#i only cried like twice so far so doing good doing fine

[freakystrashdump]

The FRP is going great by the way, I only threatened our GM like, five times, for killing off my fav NPC and then drinking my tears of anguish

[cjlouwho]

You're a Piece of My Soul I Can't Let Go

10.5k; read below or on ao3; tags: presumed dead (no actual major character death), angst, hurt/comfort, anxiety, panic, flashbacks, smut, witness protection, secret service

Buck didn't cry at the funeral.

It's not that he wasn't sad. He was heartbroken beyond repair.

The tears simply wouldn't fall.

He didn't show much emotional at all. Didn't listen to the speeches people gave. Didn't react when someone would give him a hug or a pat on the back. Didn't care about the words of encouragement by people who had no clue what it felt like to lose someone.

“Time will heal.”

“He's an angel now.”

“God needed him more.”

“Life goes on.”

“Hold yourself together for him.”

It was all bullshit.

The burial wasn't much different. He sat, unmoving, from his chair in the front row. Held out his hands when he presented with the folded flag. Heard the sniffs and cries from the people around him, but he remained stoic.

Nothing about this felt right.

There was a reception afterward at Bobby and Athena's place. Buck, wanting nothing to do with the limo that was reserved for family, had driven his Jeep to the cemetery.

He told Bobby he'd meet them at their place. Let Bobby wrap him in another hug before he left.

He didn't go to Bobby's.

Didn't want to talk to all those people. He had no desire to hear them laugh as they told stories about Tommy. They'd never know him like he did.

He went home instead. Back to the place he and Tommy shared.

It was Tommy's house, originally. Then Buck had moved in only five months into them dating. It seemed crazy at the time, but it worked. They were engaged two months later, married six months after that.

Four months of marriage. That's all they'd gotten. The ring around Buck's finger still felt new, and it was already over.

Seventeen months total. The best seventeen months of Buck's life.

And it was all gone.

Buck walked into the house that screamed Tommy, Tommy, Tommy everywhere he looked. There was the couch they had picked out together. The lamp that Tommy had knocked off the table twice, yet somehow never broke. The kitchen where they realized they were far too old to be having sex on a countertop. The clock on the wall that played obnoxious music every hour that Buck hated but Tommy loved, so it was only ever on if Buck had to work and Tommy was at home.

His houseplants he killed regularly.

The TV they splurged on because Tommy both loved watching movies and loved watching Buck watch movies.

The bedroom, two nightstands. One side almost empty because all Buck needed was a lamp and a spot for his phone at night. The other side with a lamp, charger, reading glasses, chapstick, and a glass of water that now had a thin film of dust covering the top.

Buck toed off his shoes and walked to the bed, lying down. He pulled his phone from his pocket and silenced it before setting it on his nightstand. He didn't want to be bothered. Maddie could see his location, would know he was fine. That was enough.

He curled onto his side, facing Tommy's side of the bed. He tugged at Tommy's pillow, moving it so it rested lengthwise against his body. He snuggled it tightly. Closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of Tommy's shampoo and cologne, still fresh on the pillowcase.

He fell into a dreamless sleep.

Nothing about this felt right.

“What's the matter?” Tommy asked immediately upon entering the kitchen. Buck had his eyebrows drawn tightly together as he stared at a can of coconut milk. That was never a good sign.

“I got the wrong thing,” Buck pouted. “I was supposed to get coconut cream and I picked up the milk.”

“I'm guessing they're not interchangeable?”

Buck gave him a look that asked the question, “Are you crazy?” without saying a word.

“Right.” Tommy began searching the room for his keys, “I will go get you your coconut cream.”

“No, I can get it,” Buck put the can down and headed for the stove. “I'll let Bobby know dinner will be a little late,” he said, switching off a couple of the burners, “and then-”

Buck was cut off by Tommy wrapping his arms around his waist, pressing a kiss to his temple. “You keep cooking,” he insisted, “I'll get the cream.”

Buck smiled softly, leaning further into Tommy's touch. “You sure?”

“I'm sure.”

Buck turned his head for a kiss on the lips before Tommy unraveled himself from him.

“Keys?” Tommy asked.

“Coffee table.”

“Right! Thank you. Love you, Babe. Be right back.”

“Love you too.”

Three days was all the bereavement pay a city employee was allotted after the death of a family member. Bobby had managed to space out Buck's shifts enough to give him seven days before he had to dip into his vacation time.

It didn't matter anyway. He hadn't used his vacation days in a long time. Had been saving them for a long roadtrip with...

It didn't matter. He didn't need those vacation days anymore.

A part of him had thought about going back to work. He had gotten dressed and everything. Had his keys and was headed out the door. He couldn't seem to make it past the doorframe.

He typed a simple text to Bobby, taking vacation day, silenced his phone and got back into bed. Bed, bathroom, kitchen, bed, bathroom, kitchen, the same path for the next week.

People would come to the door, knock and knock and knock, but he made no effort to let them in.

When they'd text, he'd respond so they knew he was alive, but also knew to leave him alone.

I need some time, he'd text them, please let me have time to myself.

That worked for a while, until Eddie decided to screw it all and use the spare key he had to let himself in.

“Buck?” he called out as he gently opened the front door. “Buck, you here?”

He walked into the dark house, all the curtains drawn and not a single light on. After peeking into the kitchen and living room, he made his way to the bedroom. The door was cracked, so he nudged it open until he could see Buck lying on the bed, facing away from the door.

He was under the covers, cuddling a pillow close to him.

“Buck?” Eddie whispered.

He waited a few seconds and was just about to head out to the living room until Buck woke up, when he heard a, “Hm?”

“You awake?”

“I'm not a sleep talker,” Buck muttered grumpily. He turned just enough to look at Eddie. “Why're you here?”

“To check on you.”

Buck folded himself back over the pillow, closing his eyes. “Told you I'm fine.”

“Yeah... don't really believe you, bud.” Eddie walked over to the other side of the bed so he could face Buck. Sunlight peeked through the curtains enough for Eddie to see that, surprisingly, Buck didn't look like he'd been crying.

He just looked tired. Staying in bed for two weeks could do that to a person.

“Come on, Buck,” Eddie said, “let's go out to the living room. Get you something to eat.”

“Already ate,” Buck mumbled into the pillow.

“When?”

Buck sighed. “What time is it?”

“Three o'clock in the afternoon.”

“What day is it?”

“Thursday.”

Reluctantly, Buck sat up in bed, sending a glare to Eddie. “I ate at one.”

Eddie crossed his arms. “On what day?”

God, Buck hated when he got all parental with him. Made him feel like a child. “Wednesday.”

“Up,” Eddie demanded, snapping his fingers. “Now.”

Buck was too tired to fight him. He knew the quicker he went along, ate whatever Eddie wanted him to eat, talked about whatever Eddie wanted him to talk about, he could get him out of his house.

He pulled the covers off of him and got out of bed, scooting his feet as he walked into the living room and plopped down on the couch.

Eddie couldn't help but noticed how much weight Buck had lost over the last couple of weeks. It made him feel awful for waiting so long to force himself into Buck's home. He was trying to be respectful. Trying to give Buck the space he kept requesting. He'd get those texts from Buck every time he knocked on the door, and he'd leave because he was asked to. That's what they'd all been doing. He knew now that was a mistake.

“I don't wanna eat much,” Buck said, staring straight ahead at the TV.

“I already ordered some wonton soup from China Wok. It'll be here in a minute.” Eddie sat on the other end of the couch. “Talk to me, Buck. Please.”

“About?”

“Anything.”

Buck's eyes scanned the living room. Dead flowers were scattered around, all sent somewhere between the day after Tommy's body was found up until a few days ago. Buck had managed to bring them into the house, just so no one called in a wellness check on him, but he didn't bother with keeping them alive.

What was the point? They'd die eventually anyway.

“I haven't dreamt since he... since they... you know.”

Eddie was thrown off guard by the admission, expecting it to be harder for Buck to confide in him. “None at all?”

He shook his head. “Nope. Used to. Used to have a lot of dreams. Not anymore.”

“Buck, I know what it's like to-”

“Don't,” Buck interrupted, looking at Eddie for the first time since they sat down. “Please, I- I've gotten so many 'I know what you're going through' texts from people and it doesn't help.”

Eddie nodded. “I understand.”

Buck turned his attention down to his hands, thumbs twiddling together nervously. “Can I- Can I tell you something really dumb?”

“Sure!” Eddie exclaimed, trying to lighten the mood a bit. “I love hearing dumb things.”

Buck managed a small smile. It faded faster than it had appeared. “I- Sometimes it doesn't feel, um, feel real to me. Like, I don't believe he's gone. That, um, that feeling that you get when someone has- when they've died. I- I don't have that.”

“Accepting it's happened is one of the hardest things to do, Buck. That's normal.”

“I haven't even cried,” Buck admitted. “Not since the day I was told he... he was gone.”

“That's normal too.”

Eddie didn't understand. Buck knew he wouldn't. “I don't know,” he breathed out, more to himself than to Eddie.

“Don't know what?”

The doorbell rang, pulling them out of their discussion. Buck was grateful. He didn't feel like talking anymore.

“Ready to eat?” Eddie asked, clapping his hands together as he got up and headed for the door.

“Mhm,” Buck lied. He leaned his head back on the couch and closed his eyes. He just needed to get through this meal, then Eddie would leave, and he could go back to bed.

He needed to get back to bed.

“It doesn't make any sense to me. At all.”

“You're not letting this go anytime soon, are you?”

“They didn't end up together in the end, Evan! Why'd they even say the movie was a romantic comedy? What's the point?”

Buck reached over and took Tommy's hand from where it rested on the center console. “I think they did it on purpose,” he surmised, “to spite you.”

“I agree, those bastards.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Buck gave Tommy's hand a squeeze, “they are fictional, so you know, they didn't really mind that they weren't together in the end.”

“Hm.” Tommy thought for a moment before shaking his head. “No, that doesn't make me feel any better at all.”

Buck shrugged. “I tried.”

“They had everything planned, Evan,” Tommy said, continuing his rant. “They had their whole future planned and they threw it all away in the end? Ugh, I can't.”

“Maybe it was to show that she found herself, you know, without him. That's not a bad thing.”

“It's not a bad thing at all, if I'm properly warned that that's what the movie is going to be about. It is a bad thing when you call the movie a romantic comedy.”

“Is there someone we should be writing a strongly worded letter to?” Buck asked, a cheeky grin on his face.

Tommy shot a meaningless glare in his direction. “You joke now, but I wasn't the only one crying in the theater.”

“Who said I was joking?” Buck asked. “I- I love a strongly worded letter. We can whip out some paper and a pen the second we get home.”

Buck could feel Tommy's body start to relax. His face softened as he stole another glance at Buck before turning back to the road. “I love that you're my husband.”

Buck brought Tommy's hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “I love that you're mine.”

Buck stared down at his wedding band. It had been a month now. A month since he'd last seen Tommy. A month and five days since their last date.

“Buck... Buck?”

Buck looked up to Hen watching him from across the truck. They were on their way to a call. Some small fire in the middle of nowhere with no people around. It'd be an easy call. Buck was grateful for that. This would be his fourth shift back at work, although it was his first full 24-hour one.

“Yeah?” he asked, ignoring the fact that Chimney and Eddie were giving him side glances as well.

“You good?”

He'd be angry at the question if anyone else had asked. He knew his temper was shorter than it ever used to be. Knew even the smallest things could set him off. He often had to force himself to stay calm. Take some deep breaths and count to ten before responding to someone.

He didn't have to do that with Hen though. Her voice was soothing to him. A calm against the stormy sea that was his mind.

Buck nodded. “I'm good.”

“You want in?”

He paused, dumbfounded. He had no idea what she was talking about. “In on what?”

“We're placing bets on what caused the fire,” Chimney explained. “I said kids smoking in the woods.”

“I'm going with the sun beating down on a glass bottle.” Eddie looked proud of his choice.

“Old fashioned illegal campfire for me.” Hen smiled softly at Buck. “You?”

“Oh, um, nah. I- I'm good.”

“Oh come on,” Eddie reached over and nudged Buck's knee. “Take a guess.”

Buck took a deep breath. Thought for a moment. “Fireworks, I- yeah. Fireworks.”

“In the middle of the day?” Chimney questioned.

Hen shrugged. “Wouldn't be the first time. Okay, Cap,” she said, fiddling with her headset, “what about you?”

Buck phased back out as Bobby made his guess. He tugged at his ring, twirling it around and around on his finger. He thought about the inscription on the inside. One Four Three. Had to force himself out of that memory before he could even start to get into it.

It all felt like too much. Too overwhelming. He needed to get himself together.

He sat up straight and cleared his throat.

He could do this. He could get through this shift. Get home. Get into bed. Stay there for forty-eight hours before he'd have to pretend again.

...He didn't even care that he won the bet.

“I've tried calling him like five times,” Buck said. He was sitting on the couch, his leg bouncing nervously up and down, Bobby and Athena sitting across from him. “I- I'm sorry about dinner, guys-”

“Don't even think about it,” Athena interrupted. “Bobby, you having any luck?”

Bobby shook his head. “I've texted him a few times but they're not going through.”

“Something's wrong. He wouldn't... Something's wrong. His location isn't on anymore either.”

“Okay.” Athena pulled out her phone. “Where did you say he was going?”

“Ralph's. He was just getting me some coconut cream for my recipe. I- I said I'd go but he insisted. That was over two hours ago. I, um, I should drive there and check.” He went to get up but Athena held out a hand to stop him.

“I'll go,” she said. “You and Bobby stay. Let me know if he shows up. I've got my badge and everything out in the car, so I can ask around at the store if I can't find him. His phone probably died and they were out of the right stuff at Ralph's, so he went somewhere else.”

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe,” Buck replied, but he could see the look Athena gave Bobby out of the corner of his eye.

He knew nothing in his life was ever that simple.

He stumbled upon the video by accident. He was looking for a picture of a recipe that Maddie had asked for when his finger hit the wrong thumbnail and the video began to play.

It was one he took without Tommy knowing. A rare rainy day in Los Angeles gave them the opportunity to relax at home instead of run errands or make plans.

Buck was splayed out on the couch, head on the armrest and his legs on Tommy's lap. Tommy had a crossword over Buck's legs, staring at it with an intensity usually reserved for flying into dangerous situations.

“If twenty-one across is evergreen, then eighteen down can't be carpet.”

“I thought you said eighteen down had to be carpet?” Buck asked off camera.

“It does, Evan,” Tommy placed the pen between his teeth. “It really does.”

“Then evergreen is wrong.”

Tommy shook his head. “Nope. It's gotta be evergreen.”

“We've been going over this for almost an hour now, Tommy,” Buck said, huffing out a laugh. “Give it up.”

“I've never been this close to finishing a Sunday crossword!” Tommy whined, the smile on his face betraying the seriousness of his voice. “If I give up now, I'll never forgive myself.”

“If you give up now I'll let you blow me as a consolation prize,” Buck offered cheekily.

Tommy gasped, glancing at Buck with a look of betrayal. “Sabotage!” he exclaimed. “I have to finish this, babe, or my name isn't Thomas Andrew Kinard!”

“Your name isn't Thomas Andrew Kinard,” Buck replied, the video shaking with his laughter. “It's Buckley-Kinard.”

Tommy froze. He clicked his pen closed and tossed it, along with the paper, on the coffee table. He turned to Evan, his eyes darkening, “About that consolation prize?”

Buck found himself smiling as the video ended. He'd taken it only three weeks after their wedding. The video wasn't even old, but it felt like a lifetime ago.

Suddenly, the living room felt cold. Buck's spot on the couch now uncomfortable. The silence a stark contrast to all the life in that memory. For two months now he'd had nothing but silence in his home, besides the far too occasional visits from his friends and family. It wasn't the same though. It wasn't the same as having Tommy.

The smile on Buck's face faded. He got up and headed to the bedroom to lie down.

Maddie would have to get that recipe another day.

“We're all set to clear out here,” Bobby said over the radio. “Great work everyone.”

The call had been a big one. A four alarm fire that required the assistance of multiple stations.

“This is Firefighter Pilot Kinard of Harbor Station for Firefighter Buckley of 118, over,” Tommy's voice came over the radio. He had been providing assistance from the chopper, now hovering above them as he set to head back.

Buck glanced around at the rest of the 118, all stopping what they were doing to watch him and listen in. “Go for Buckley.”

“Looking for confirmation on a code one-four-three.”

“One-four-three confirmed and returned.”

“Excellent. Returning to Harbor Station.”

“What the hell is a one-four-three?” Chimney asked once the sounds from the chopper were off in the distance.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “It's their way of saying 'I love you' after a big call.”

Buck smiled. “We usually text it to each other,” he explained, a blush rising on his cheeks, “just to let the other know we're alright. Guess he couldn't get to his phone.”

Hen put a hand to her stomach. “That's so preciously sickening I might throw up.”

“Okay, okay, come on guys,” Bobby said, waving the group toward the truck, “give Buck a break-”

“Thank you, Cap.”

“-for now. We can make fun of him on the way back to the station.”

“Hey!”

It was the longest, most grueling shift Buck had had since he could remember. He had only managed a couple hours of sleep, and that was often in fifteen minute increments. The worst part was the majority of calls were from people being stupid. Accidents that could have been prevented had a single person with half a brain been anywhere around.

All Buck wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep.

Which is why he was not so pleasantly surprised when he pulled up to Maddie's car in his driveway.

She greeted him at the door with a hug, and he faked a smile as he hugged back. “Why're you here?” he asked, trying to sound polite.

“Well, you've been working so hard lately, I figured I'd come over and help with the housecleaning.”

“Oh, uh, um, thanks.” The overwhelming smell of cleaning supplies made him feel a bit lightheaded as he walked further into the house, dropping his duffel on the dining room table. “It looks great in here.”

That wasn't a lie. She had made the place spotless. He wasn't a messy person himself but he couldn't deny he'd let certain things, like mopping and dusting, go over the past few months.

“It's the least I could do,” she replied. “I won't stay long, Howie texted me about how busy you guys were. Needed an excuse to see you though. It's... It's been a while.”

Two and a half weeks, to be exact. No fault of Maddie's either. She'd make plans with him, and he'd cancel last minute.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. “I've been, uh, trying to get things back in order. I'm just- I'm still kind of...”

“It's okay,” she assured him. “Really. I understand.”

“Let me, um, let me go put my jacket up,” he said, tugging at it, “and we'll talk for a little bit before you go.” He didn't want to. No desire for small talk, or talk of any kind, but he couldn't kick her out of the house after all she'd done for him.

She smiled. “Okay. That sounds good.”

He headed to his bedroom, but stopped dead in his tracks when he reached the doorway.

“Did you... Did you wash my sheets?”

“I did,” Maddie replied, coming up behind him. Her voice was far too nonchalant for the blinding rage that was slowly seeping up inside him.

“All of them? Like, the pillowcases too?”

“Uh, yeah? Why would I only wash some of your sheets, Buck?”

Buck hurried over to the far side of the bed, throwing the comforter and sheets back to get to Tommy's pillow.

He didn't care if he looked like a crazy person. He brought the pillow up to his face and took a deep breath in.

It smelled like Gain.

It made him want to throw up.

“Buck, what's wrong?” She was clearly worried, standing uncomfortably in the doorway.

“I didn't ask you to do this, Maddie,” he said angrily, tossing the pillow back on the bed. “I- I didn't ask you to do any of this.”

“I know. I just wanted to help. Buck, I'm sorry if I-”

“I need you to leave.”

“Buck-”

“Leave!”

She stood firmly in place. “I'm not leaving until you tell me what I did wrong.”

“I- I, everyone keeps trying to help me,” he huffed, “and I don't want it! I don't want Eddie coming over for dinner! I don't want Hen taking me out for drinks! I don't want Chimney taking me to a movie! I don't want Bobby texting me every damn day! And I don't want you to be my maid!”

“We're just trying to help you, Evan-”

“Don't call me that!” He spewed.

He was breathing heavily. The stinging in his eyes surprised him. It'd been so long since he had last cried. He didn't particularly feel like crying right now, but apparently his body did. He groaned, sitting down on Tommy's side of the bed and staring out the window. He brought Tommy's pillow to his chest, and began to sob.

Maddie was by his side in seconds, wrapping her arms around him and enveloping him in a hug. 'I'm so sorry, Buck. I'm so sorry.” She was crying too. Buck could feel her tears wetting his shirt. He wasn't even sure why she was apologizing. She didn't have anything to be sorry for. If anything, he should be apologizing for snapping at her so harshly.

If he could speak, he would have told her as much. Would have told her that his head was a jumbled mess that he couldn't seem to clear. That nothing about this felt real. That he felt like Tommy was still there, somewhere, with them.

That it'd been four months since he'd had a dream. How he missed dreaming. They were always so vivid, him and Tommy, living their lives together.

Now, there was just darkness. An endless abyss of black every time he closed his eyes.

He'd tell her how his memories haunted him. The dreams may not exist, but the memories would appear out of nowhere at the worst times. They'd plague him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't escape them.

He wasn't sure how much time passed before he was able to find his voice. Before he was able to bring himself out of Maddie's embrace. He kept a tight hold on the pillow, fingers messing with a pulled thread at the edge. “It s- smelled like him,” he said, his lip still trembling. “I'd... I'd wash everything else but, um, I- I couldn't wash this.”

“Oh, Buck, I'm so sorry. I didn't-”

“I know. It's okay. I- I know you were trying to help. It's okay.”

“Do you still have some of his cologne?”

Buck nodded and Maddie got up to go into the bathroom.

“Where?” she asked.

“Far sink, open the cabinet, black bottle.”

She returned a few seconds later with a bottle in hand, held out for Buck to see. “This one?”

“Mhm.”

“Want me to spray it?”

He laid the pillow out flat and Maddie sprayed it a couple of times.

“I really miss him, Maddie,” Buck admitted quietly, inhaling the scent of his cologne as it passed through the air.

“I know, Buck. I know.”

“Bobby, it's been twenty-four hours of nothing. I'm freaking out.”

Bobby hadn't left Buck since he'd arrived the day before. Athena had worked all night putting out alerts for Tommy and his vehicle, but hadn't gotten anywhere.

He and Buck had left two different times to go driving around. The rest of the 118 had gone searching as well, going to places he frequented, driving down any and every back road they could find.

Nothing.

Now, back at the house to rest for a minute, and make sure Tommy hadn't come back home, Buck was in a full blown panic.

“I know, Buck, but we're all doing everything we can,” Bobby replied, leading Buck to the couch. “Athena's got officers searching the whole city for his car. He'll be found.”

“But what if-”

“No,” Bobby sat on the edge of the coffee table so he could face Buck, “you're not gonna think like that, Buck.”

“Bobby,” his voice was pleading and his eyes red. “You know s- something's wrong. H- He wouldn't do this. You know that.”

Bobby sighed. He opened his mouth to speak, unsure of what he could even say, when the doorbell rang.

Buck's heart started pounding right away. Athena wouldn't ring the doorbell. She'd knock. So would anyone from the 118, except Eddie. Eddie would come right on in.

He was shaking as he got up and walked to the door, Bobby close behind him.

“Detective John Farrow,” a man introduced the second Buck opened the door. “Are you Evan Buckley-Kinard?”

Buck nodded. “I- Yes. I- I am.”

“Mr. Buckley-Kinard, I'm sorry to inform you...”

The sound of the detective's voice was replaced by a ringing in Buck's ears. He felt dizzy. His vision blurred. The last thing he remembered was Bobby catching him as he fell.

Agreeing to lunch at Maddie's with his parents was a mistake. He knew that from the moment he said yes. He'd been working on controlling his temper. Not overreacting at the small things.

There was still more work to be done.

“So,” Margaret began, everyone settled at the table. Maddie looked up to see her eyes on Buck. The look Margaret was giving him already made her want to scream. “There's really no easy way to say this, Evan-”

“Then maybe you shouldn't say it,” Maddie suggested. Chimney placed a hand on her back, rubbing gently to try and ease the tension.

Buck remained quiet, eyes directed toward his mother with an unreadable expression on his face.

“I'm simply asking,” Margaret continued, “if you've, you know, gotten back out there any?”

“Margaret,” Phillip warned under his breath. Maddie knew that if their dad wasn't even on their mom's side, this was never going to end civilly.

Maddie swore Buck's eyes went dark. “Buck-” Maddie started, but he cut her off.

“You're not seriously asking me if I'm dating six months after my husband died, are you, Mom?”

“Not dating, but getting back out into the world. I- I've heard so much about you staying holed up in your house, only leaving to go to work, and that worries me, Evan.”

“Stop calling me, Evan,” Buck demanded.

Margaret raised her hands in surrender. “I'm sorry,” she said, and she meant it. The name sometimes slipped out without her realizing it. She had been warned that the name triggered Buck in a way it never had before. Even though others had used it on occasion before, Evan had become Tommy's name for him. And with him gone, Buck didn't want to hear it from anyone. “I'm sorry, Buck. I just don't want to see you wasting away. It's hard for a mother to see her child suffer like this.”

“Were you over Daniel's death in six months?” Buck asked bitterly. “Were you back out there? Cause I seem to remember it being about thirty years before you even mentioned his name. And you only did that once Maddie told me about him.”

Tears filled Maddie's eyes. “Buck,” she spoke softly. She desperately wanted this conversation to end.

“That's not fair, Buck,” Margaret answered, her voice shaking. “Daniel was my child.”

“And Tommy was my husband!” Buck slammed his napkin on the table, rising to his feet. “We had planned a future together! We were saving up for a house, we were planning on having kids, we talked about what we'd do when we retired! Hell, we planned weekly grocery shopping trips together! All these things got ripped out from under me, and I'm supposed to just get back out there? Are you crazy?”

“Hey,” Phillip stood across from him, “that's too far. Your mother wasn't trying to be malicious.”

Buck shook his head, then began to head for the door. “This was a mistake. I- I'm gonna go.”

“Buck, wait-” Maddie went to get up, but Chimney placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Let me,” he said, walking out after Buck.

“Wait a minute, Buck!” Chimney jogged a few steps to catch up to him.

Buck stopped at his Jeep, hand on the door handle. “I'm not going back in.”

“Wasn't gonna ask you to. Just want to make sure you're okay.”

Buck let out a humorless laugh, turning back to Chimney. “Well, apparently I only stay holed up in my house except to go to work, so you tell me if I'm okay.”

“Maddie didn't say it like that to them, Buck, please don't be mad at her. She's worried about you. We all are.”

Buck scoffed. “Just leave me alone for tonight,” he said, getting into his Jeep. “I'll see you at work on Friday.”

“He flashed the ring three times today,” Eddie said, scooting back into the bench. After work they'd all met Tommy at the bar for a few drinks before heading home.

“Four,” Hen corrected.

“Nope.” Chimney took a sip of his beer. “Five.”

Tommy grinned at Buck. “Really? Five times? Can't say I blame them, I do have a hot fiancé.”

“Oh, my guy was not flirting,” Chimney stated. “Buck asked him if he liked the way the ring shimmered in the sunlight.”

“Mhm,” Hen agreed. “My girl wasn't flirting either. Buck noticed she had an ultrasonic ring cleaner in her bathroom and asked if she was happy with her purchase because, and I quote, 'I just got engaged and I want to make sure my ring stays perfect forever.'”

“Okay, guys,” Buck said with a groan, “we get it. I'm lame.”

“I don't think it's lame.” Tommy rested his hand on Buck's knee. “I think it's adorable. I love that you're excited to get married.”

A blush rose on Buck's cheeks. “I am excited,” he agreed, leaning in for a kiss. “Very excited.”

“Before this gets pg-13,” Eddie interrupted, “the two men I had were definitely flirting, but they both got the hint after the first 'fiancé' was thrown out there. Buck threw in two more for good measure. The other person- not flirting.”

“What about you?” Hen asked Tommy. “Did you get any offers you had to turn down today?”

“Well, I was thousands of feet in the air for both of the calls I went on, so any prospects would have had to look at me through some really good binoculars and then steal a radio to tell me they were into me, so no. No offers.”

“The guy in the bathroom definitely flirted with you like ten minutes ago, Dude,” Eddie said with a laugh.

“What?” Tommy asked incredulously. “No he didn't.”

“He for sure did. Man was jacked and he was asking for your workout routine.”

“He said he wanted to switch things up!” Tommy exclaimed.

Eddie snorted. “Oh, he definitely wanted to switch things up.”

“What? Who is this man?” Buck eyes darted around the bar. “Where is he?”

“Don't worry about it Buck,” Eddie reassured him. “Tommy didn't even realize it. Gave the guy a five minute rundown of how he gets the perfect squat. Your man only has eyes for you.”

Buck settled back into his seat, leaning into Tommy's side as Tommy pulled him closer and pressed a kiss to his temple. “That's true,” he whispered into Buck's ear.

Buck rested his head on Tommy's shoulder, ignoring the teasing gag sounds that came from the others around them.

If it were possible, he'd stay like this forever.

He should have expected this.

It should have happened sooner, if he were being honest.

He was lucky to go seven months without a call that hit too close to home.

There had been a hit and run. The car that was hit had flipped twice, landed right side up, and immediately burst into flames.

The man in the driver's seat never stood a chance.

Buck was okay while they hurried to get out the flames. He'd ignored the glances from the rest of the team, ignored Bobby's suggestion to stay by the engine, ignored the thoughts in the back of his head telling him to sit this one out.

It wasn't until the fire was out and he saw the man's body, burnt so severely he looked more like a halloween decoration than a human, that Buck lost it.

No matter how much he wanted to look away, his eyes were fixed on the body. His heart rate was speeding up quickly, each breath short and sharp and painful.

He hadn't even realized that tears were falling down his face. Or that he was letting out little noises similar to a dog's whine. He had his helmet in his hand, shaking so much it was vibrating against his leg.

Buck didn't even notice the bystanders watching him, some of them whispering, others pulling out their phones.

It felt like hours, but Bobby was in front of him within seconds. “We're gonna walk away, Buck,” he said calmly but firmly, planting a hand on his shoulder. “We're gonna walk away and go sit behind the engine. Come on.”

Buck let Bobby guide him to a quite spot behind the fire truck, sitting on the curb. Bobby took his helmet from him and tossed it somewhere, then sat down beside him.

“I'm sorry,” Buck breathed out, wiping over his face with his hand.

“You don't ever have to apologize for being human, Buck.”

“I don't know how to do this,” he confessed through sobs. “I don't- I don't know how to keep g- going.”

“The path through grief isn't linear,” Bobby explained. “Hell, it's not really much of a path you get through at all. More like a loop.”

“So this is... This is m- my forever?” He asked, voice rising in despair.

“No. Not exactly. You do learn how to manage it better over time, but it takes time, Buck. And it takes letting the people around you help you, instead of pushing them away.”

“I don't mean to,” Buck said as he began to calm down. “It just takes so much energy. Everything is exhausting. Talking to people is- is so exhausting.”

“I know. Buck, you've seen grief. It's been around you since you were a baby. I'm not saying there's any right or wrong way to grieve, but I think you know how dangerous it is to lose yourself in it.” Bobby put his arm around him, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “No one expects you to be exactly who you were before you lost Tommy. I'll never be the same person I was, Eddie won't be the same person he was, Chimney won't be who he was before losing his brother, I could go on and on. But we- I need you to realize you're still here, you're still breathing, and Tommy wouldn't want you to disappear.”

Buck nodded, a new wave of tears taking over him.

Bobby pulled him close and let him cry.

“How many kids do you want?”

Buck and Tommy were sat on the front porch steps watching the sunset behind the trees across the street.

“Uh,” Tommy paused, caught off guard. “I don't know. Haven't really thought about it.”

Buck shrugged. “We've talked about wanting kids, but we've never talked about how many we want.”

“Hm. Two sounds nice. Kinda close together so they can grow up with each other. You?”

“Two's good,” he agreed. “But we'd need a bigger house.”

“Oh, for sure. This one barely fits the two of us.”

“And I'd like for us to be married a while first. Settled, you know?”

Tommy raised his eyebrows. “You proposing?”

“Ha! Like this? No.” Buck took Tommy's hand in his and they settled into a comfortable silence. After a couple minutes, Buck squeezed Tommy's hand to get his attention. “I have, um, I've been thinking about it though. Um, about proposing,” he said, staring deep into Tommy's eyes to see what kind of response he'd get. When Tommy appeared surprised, Buck panicked a bit. “Is that, um, is- is that weird? To be thinking about it so soon?”

“What? Oh, God, no, Evan. I,” he laughed, “I've actually been thinking about it too. For a while now.”

Buck looked as shocked as the night Tommy first kissed him. “Really?”

“Really. I've been googling rings, looking for the perfect one. Kept trying to talk myself out of it because I wasn't sure if you'd think it was too fast but-”

Tommy's words were cut off by Buck's mouth on his, so forceful it nearly toppled them both over.

“Oh! Mmm,” Tommy moaned into the kiss, resting his hand at the base of Buck's neck.

“Yes,” Buck said, dazed as he pulled back far enough to speak.

“What?”

“Yes.”

“Bu- Evan, I didn't ask yet. Not the- I don't have a ring.”

“I don't care, Tommy. Yes. I'm saying yes. Yes?”

It took Tommy's mouth a second to catch up with his brain, but once it did he was nodding, his eyes filling with tears. “Yes. Of course, yes,” he replied, both of them laughing giddily before crashing their lips back together.

Everyone except for Hen was upstairs relaxing between calls. Bobby and Buck were at the table, planning out next week's meals. Eddie was fixing himself a cup of coffee. Chimney was on the couch, reading a book.

“We're all going out for beers after our shift,” Eddie said, glancing at Buck. “You in?”

Buck nodded. “Yeah, I'm in.”

He'd been trying lately. Trying to do things other than work and sleep. He'd gone to the zoo with Jee a couple times over the past month. He'd gone to Bobby's for dinner. Watched a game at Eddie's place. Met Maddie and Chimney for brunch. He'd even gone over to Hen's one night when she was home alone and they'd gotten hammered while discussing their various traumas.

Every one of these occasions had ended with him in his car, or a cab, sobbing uncontrollably.

But he was trying.

Hen walked up the stairs, a worried expression on her face. “What's up with you?” Chimney asked, first to notice.

“Uh... Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“There's a... a secret service agent here for you.”

All eyes were on her now.

A... a what?”

Before Hen could get in another word, a man in a suit walked up behind her.

Buck stood, recognizing the man right away. It was the same man who had come to his door to let him know about Tommy. His heart sunk. How could this possibly get worse?

“Detective Farrow?”

“Mr. Buckley-Kinard,” he greeted. “It's actually Special Agent Farrow, but you can all me John.”

“I- I don't-”

“I know this is a bit odd,” he continued, “and was not something I actually wanted to do. I was going to hold off until you were home, but he refused to wait another minute.”

“I- what are you talking about? Who?”

The sound of footsteps coming up the stairs interrupted whatever John was about to reply.

Suddenly there was a very familiar, very alive Tommy standing in front of them, smiling brightly at the sight of Buck. “Hi, Evan.”

“Holy shit.” The words escaped Chimney's mouth without him realizing.

Hen followed right after with an, “Oh my God.”

Eddie felt his coffee cup slip from his hand and shatter against the countertop. No one even noticed.

Bobby was standing right beside Buck, thankfully, because he had to quickly reach out and grab onto him before he fell to the ground. He managed to whip a chair around and get Buck seated as he stared, mouth agape, at his husband.

His alive husband.

His breathing husband.

His not-buried-in-the-cemetery husband.

“Evan,” Tommy stepped forward, but Buck held his arm out to stop him.

“What the hell is going on?”

Tommy was confused. Buck sounded angry, and scared. He looked around at all the other faces staring back at him. “Why... Why do you all look like you've seen a ghost?” he asked.

Chimney walked up to Tommy, poking him on the shoulder. “Because you're dead. At least, you're supposed to be.”

Tommy raised his eyebrows. “I'm what?” He turned to John. “Why would they think that?”

John cleared his throat, eyes gazing downward. “There's a lot we need to discuss, Mr. Buckley-Kinard.”

“Why would they think I was dead?” Tommy repeated, angry now.

“Because that's what we were told,” Hen answered.

Tommy stepped closer to John. “You told them I was dead?”

“We couldn't risk anyone knowing-”

“You told my husband I was dead?!”

“-that you were alive. It would have put everyone-”

“And you lied to me to keep me there?!”

“-in danger. It was easier this way.”

“That was not the deal!”

“Everyone shut up!” Buck's voice rang out over the station. He got out of his seat, Bobby keeping a hand near his back until he was sure Buck was steady.

Buck cautiously moved toward Tommy, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “You- You're really here?”

All of the anger Tommy had for John fell away as he looked into Buck's eyes. He nodded. “I'm here. I'm so sorry, Buck, I didn't-”

Buck shook his head, “I- I don't care right now.” He brought a hand up to Tommy's chest. Felt the thump-thump-thump of his heart. The firmness of his chest. He felt up until he reached Tommy's collarbone, poking ever so slightly out from his shirt. Felt the warmth of his skin. The slight dip that led up to his neck that Buck always loved to linger on when they were alone in bed. He felt the roughness of a two day old beard as he felt up his neck and toward his jawbone. “My God.” The words were hushed, breathed out through trembling lips and red-rimmed eyes. He pressed their lips together so quickly, so urgently, that Tommy didn't even have time to register it. He moaned into the kiss, finally reaching out and wrapping his arms around Buck's waist, finding their home at the base of his back.

“Let's give them a minute,” Bobby said, gesturing for everyone to head downstairs.

“I need to brief them,” John replied, earning him a glare from everyone else in the room.

“We're giving them a minute,” Bobby demanded.

John didn't try to protest any further. He simply followed the others downstairs, allowing Buck and Tommy time to reconnect.

“I didn't know,” Tommy began, he and Buck seated on the couch. “I was never told that you thought I was dead.”

“I am so confused, Tommy, I don't... I'm not even sure if this is real, to be honest. Am I dreaming? I haven't... I haven't had a dream since you died. Is that what this is?”

Tommy shook his head. “It's not a dream, Evan.”

“Then what the hell happened?” Buck asked, going from anxious to frustrated, “Cause I'm kinda pissed.”

Tommy scooted closer to Buck, cautiously holding out his hands for Buck to take. There was hesitation, but Buck gave in.

“The night I went to the grocery store, I saw something. I, it was a murder.”

Buck's eyes widened. “A what?”

“Yeah, I know. When I was leaving the store, I went out the back way to avoid all the traffic at the main entrance. It was getting dark, and when I passed by the dumpsters out back I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I- this guy had shot another man. I got a good look at him, and he got a good look at me too, but he ran. I got out of the car, called 911, and tried to help the other guy, but he was dead.”

“I... My brain feels like it's about to explode, Tommy. I don't understand how this leads to me planning your funeral.”

Tears came to Tommy's eyes at the thought. He continued, “The police came first, and they were asking for descriptions and any information I had. Then, the FBI shows up, and the CIA, and suddenly I'm surrounded by agents from every agency that goes by initials. This guy, whoever I saw, was apparently a hitman. A good one. Like, ties to Russia and shit. Anyway, I'm being tossed into a van and told my life's in danger because this guy saw me.”

“This sounds like a really bad cop thriller, Tommy.”

Tommy let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, I know, believe me. But these agents are telling me that I need protection, this man has killed for less before, blah blah blah. They said he'd killed an entire family because the mom had witnessed one of his hits.”

Buck scoffed. “Apparently he's not that good if he keeps getting caught.”

“Evan,” Tommy said, eyes pleading, “they showed me crime scene pictures of what this man had done. Told me he'd do the same to you if I went home. It was... It was horrific.”

“They wouldn't even let you call me? Tell me you were okay? I was- I went through hell these past eight months.”

“They took my phone, said anything electronic was a risk. Said if I declined protection, if I went home to you, I was basically signing your death certificate. But I told them- I told them that I had to let you know something and they said to write you a letter. I wrote one every week. They said they'd deliver it to you.”

“They did not deliver any letters.”

“Yeah, I'm getting that now. Evan, I swear I had no idea they were going to tell you I was dead. No idea.” Tommy clung onto Buck's hands tighter, and Buck couldn't ignore the pang in his chest at having Tommy in front of him. Alive. With him. Beside him. Holding him.

“I believe you.” He was being honest. He did believe Tommy. He knew Tommy would do anything to keep him safe. He also knew Tommy would never agree to making Buck feel the way he had felt for the last eight months. “I am just... I am so confused right now. This all sounds so crazy and over- overwhelming, Tommy. And I really wanna punch that John guy, whoever the fuck he is. And I want-” he cleared his throat, eyes red with unshed tears. “I wanna go home, Tommy.”

Unable to hold himself back any longer, he leaned into Tommy. They met each other halfway, their foreheads pressed together. Buck reached up and cupped Tommy's cheeks, brushing his thumbs against the rough stubble. They closed their eyes and breathed each other in. Buck whispered, “Can we go home?”

John wanted to sit with them and go over everything before they left, but the boiling over rage from the both of them was evident, so he made a plan to speak with them the next day.

After brief hugs and hello's, along with endless apologies to everyone at the 118, Tommy and Buck left.

The ride home was oddly, but comfortably, quiet. Neither were totally sure what to say. Tommy had basically been a prisoner in a safe house for eight months until the FBI found this hitman. Buck had been living in a prison of his own, thinking the love of his life had been burned and buried.

“Home sweet home,” Buck said as they pulled into the driveway. He let go of Tommy's hand long enough for them to get out of the car.

They were interlaced once again as soon as Tommy walked around the Jeep.

Buck needed the touch. Needed to stay connected to Tommy somehow, so he didn't wake up from whatever dream he was in. If this wasn't reality, he wanted to stay wherever it was for the rest of his life.

They walked into the house slowly, Buck a step ahead of Tommy, leading the way.

Once the door was shut behind them, Tommy began looking around.

Everything was... the same. Besides a few of his houseplants being gone, but they never stood a chance in the first place.

Tommy stepped in front of Buck, gave his hand a squeeze before letting go, and continued further into the house.

Buck's body ached at the loss of Tommy's touch, but he let him go. Knew this was overwhelming for him too.

“You kept all my stuff,” Tommy noted, moving into the living room.

“Of course I did.”

“Even though you thought I was-”

“A part of me didn't believe it. I kept telling people that something felt wrong. Everyone said I was in denial; that I'd move on when I was ready.”

“God, this is so fucked up.” Tommy turned to face Buck. The space between them felt as though they might as well be a thousand miles apart. “It's okay if you're mad,” he said. “I understand.”

“I- I am mad,” Buck admitted. He moved closer to Tommy. Everything still felt so surreal. He wasn't even sure if this was actually happening right now. “I don't think I'm mad at you though. I- I'm mad at them.”

“Who?”

There were so many to choose from. “Everyone who took you away from me.”

Tommy nodded. “I'm mad at them too. They wasted eight damn months of my life. Our life.”

Buck cleared any remaining distance between them. He brought his hands to Tommy's waist slowly, dragging his hands up and down his sides, feeling the defined muscles that rested just beneath his shirt.

Tommy sunk into the touch. He watched Buck as he stared at his body. Looked over every inch of him to make sure Tommy wasn't a figment of his imagination.

Tommy brought a hand to Buck's chin, gently tilting his head up until their eyes met. “Can I kiss you?” he asked softly.

Buck sucked in a breath. “Please.”

Tommy brought their lips together gently, both of their bodies shaking with the need to be closer. Feel more.

Buck fisted Tommy's shirt in his hands, pushed their bodies as close as they could go with how they were standing.

Tommy brought his hands to the nape of Buck's neck as the kiss deepened. Their tongues met with a moan, teeth clashing together before Buck pulled back just far enough speak against Tommy's lips. “I don't want to be mad right now,” he whispered like a secret.

Tommy kissed him again. “What do you want?” he asked.

Buck slowly raised Tommy's shirt, just enough to get his hands underneath. He scratched his fingernails down Tommy's abs, causing Tommy to suck in a sharp breath. Chills covered his body.

Buck kissed Tommy's lips, then his cheek, this nipped at his jawline until he reached his ear. “I wanna to fuck you,” he answered.

They clumsily stumbled into the bedroom, stripping themselves of their clothes before falling onto the bed. “You've been working out a lot,” Buck noted between kisses, hands roaming over Tommy's body.

Tommy pressed himself against Buck, their cocks rubbing together, eliciting a groan from them both.

“There was quite literally nothing else to do,” Tommy replied.

Their bodies moved together so perfectly. Just like always. Like they had never been apart at all.

Tommy sucked on Buck's bottom lip, listening to the stunted gasps that escaped him with every thrust.

“You're so fucking beautiful,” Tommy said breathlessly. He bit at a spot on Buck's neck, Buck's hands tangling in Tommy's hair and tugging firmly.

“Tom- Tommy,” he whimpered out. “You gotta. I wanna- You gotta stop,” he managed to get out.

Tommy whined, but stopped his movements. The sound earned him a laugh from Buck. He caressed Tommy's cheek until he looked at him. “Wanna fuck you, remember? Not gonna last long if- if you keep going.”

Tommy nodded. He was seconds away from coming himself. It was easy to get lost in the feeling with Buck. Easy to lose control.

With one swift movement, Buck flipped them so he was on top. He may not have been working out as much as Tommy over the last few months, but he did have a lot of sessions with a punching bag recently, and right now he felt ready to take on the world.

Buck ran his hand over Tommy's chest, let his fingernails drag over his nipple, Tommy arching into the touch. He felt over every ab, traced Tommy's scar, moved down to his stomach. It was all so torturously slow, but so fucking wonderful.

He kissed his way down Tommy's body, stopping at his cock. He stared up at Tommy with heavy lidded eyes as he spit, letting the drool drip down from his mouth onto the head of Tommy's dick. “The first time I touched myself,” Buck said, finally taking Tommy's cock in his hand, dragging his hand up and down leisurely as Tommy's eyes fluttered shut, “after... you know.”

“Mhm.” Tommy managed to open his eyes again, trying to focus on Buck and his words instead of the warm, wet hand gliding over him.

“I had to stop. I tried to- to touch myself the way you always touched me, but I- I couldn't do it.”

“Oh God, Evan.” Tommy fucked himself into Buck's tight fist. He brought their lips together sloppily. “Wanna touch you like that again.”

Buck nodded. “You will,” he promised. “But not right now. Right now I need to be in you.”

“Please.”

Buck let go of Tommy long enough to reach into the bedside table and grab the lube. He put some on, Tommy spreading his legs as Buck reached down and slowly began inserting his finger.

“Ah,” Tommy gasped. He reached up and pulled Buck down for another kiss as Buck slowly pumped his finger in and out.

“You're so tight,” Buck panted into Tommy's mouth.

“Been a while.” Tommy began to grind down against Buck's finger, moaning loudly when it hit the perfect spot.

“Shit,” Buck whined. “You haven't... You didn't?”

“A finger or two.” Tommy planted his feet on the bed, getting better leverage to work himself up and down on Buck. “A- Another, Evan, please.”

Buck obliged, adding another finger along the first, eliciting a string of curses from Tommy.

“Fuck, fuck, fucking shit! It was never the same,” he added quickly, going back to the conversation. “Didn't- God, didn't feel like this. Evan, more!”

Buck silenced a moan with his mouth as he added a third finger, grinding his cock against Tommy's thigh. He knew he wasn't gonna last long. Knew Tommy wouldn't either. It didn't matter though. They had plenty of time to make up for what was lost.

“I- I'm ready. Just... I need-”

“I know.” Another kiss and Buck slipped his fingers out of Tommy. Tommy grabbed the lube from the side of the bed and tossed it in Buck's direction, getting a laugh out of him.

Soon enough, Buck had Tommy's legs on his shoulders and his cock was slowly, slowly, so fucking slowly, entering Tommy.

They stared into each others eyes, Tommy slack-jawed with tiny, breathy grunts escaping him every time Buck inched closer.

After what felt like an eternity, Buck bottomed out. He stilled, breathing heavily. “I gotta. Just. I need a second.”

“S'okay.” Tommy reached out and grabbed for Buck's hands, which were currently gripping Tommy's thighs. “S'okay,” he repeated.

A few seconds later, Buck began to move.

Slowly at first, letting Tommy get used to the feeling again. Hell, letting him get used to the feeling again.

“Ev- ah- Evan?”

“Yeah?”

“I- ah- I. I need-”

“What? What do- do you need?”

“Oh shit!" Tommy yelled as Buck snapped his hips forward. "Fuck me, Evan!”

That was all Buck needed to hear. He pushed himself up slightly, to get a better position, and began moving faster, faster, faster, harder, harder, harder. Each thrust pulled a new sound out of Tommy. Low, guttural groans.

The sound of their skin slapping together, the feeling of the sweat covering their bodies, the heat between them, the desperation over all they thought they'd lost.

It was too much.

“Evan, I- I'm gonna come.” He'd never been able to come untouched before. Always needed a hand on his cock to get there. Not this time though. He came with a sound so loud, Buck was sure the neighbors at the other end of the street could hear.

Tommy's legs dropped off of Buck's shoulders, but he quickly wrapped them around his back to make sure he didn't go anywhere.

“Tommy,” Buck gasped, each movement now with far less rhythm. “Tommy, i- is this real?”

Tommy pulled Buck closer, his fingernails digging into Buck's back. He moaned as Buck drove in deeper. “It's- I'm real,” he managed to breathe out. “I'm here, Evan.”

Buck groaned loudly, mouth pressed close to Tommy's ear, coming deep inside him. After a couple lighter, gentler thrusts, Buck stopped. He practically dropped all his body weight on top of Tommy. Tommy kept his legs wrapped tightly around him. Neither could seem to let the other go just yet.

Buck hid his head into Tommy's neck. “I missed you so much,” he whimpered out, both men trying to catch their breath. Tommy could feel the wetness of Buck's tears on his neck. “God, I- I missed you.”

Tommy brought his hands to Buck's head, carding his fingers through his hair. “I missed you every damn second of every damn day,” he replied.

After they cleaned up, Buck curled back into Tommy, intertwining their bodies at every point he could manage. Tommy wrapped Buck into his arms, and Buck laid his head on Tommy's chest. They laid in silence for a while, allowing themselves to feel and be felt for the first time in so long.

Buck was the first to break the silence, letting the words fall out like a secret admission. “John came to the house the day after you went missing. They... They said your car had been in an accident. That you, um, that it had caught on fire w- with you inside.”

Tommy's body stiffened underneath him. “Baby, if... if I'd known-”

“I know,” Buck assured him. He ran his hand up and down over Tommy's chest until he relaxed again. “I know it wasn't you.”

“I'm gonna ask John if he still has my letters,” Tommy said.

“You really wrote me letters?” Buck asked, stealing a glance up at Tommy.

“Mhm. I'm sure they all thought I was an absolute idiot, especially seeing as it was all a lie, but yeah, every week.”

Buck pressed a kiss to Tommy's pec before lying back down. “I hope they exist somewhere. I'd love to read them.”

“They were really fucking depressing. Turns out I don't handle being without you very well.”

“Oh, you should've seen me.” Buck traced circle patterns along Tommy's chest. “This was the first month I started trying. Trying to get back out and do things with people... I'm glad I don't have to try anymore.”

“That's probably something we should talk about, especially with our jobs.” He snuggled further under the covers, wrapping Buck even tighter in his arms. “Not tonight though.”

“No, not tonight,” Buck agreed.

They still had a lot to talk about. A lot of things that had to be sorted. Questions that needed answers. Issues that would need to be resolved.

But, for tonight, the only thing they needed was each other.

Each other, and the first good night's sleep for them both since the day Tommy disappeared.

That night, once sleep took over, Buck dreamt.

[midnight-mourning]

Not Even a Mouse

❄️❄️Midnight's DCA December Day 21❄️❄️

alright, y'all have had it too good for too long, have some angst (with a bit of fluff, of course) to balance it all out, hope you enjoy!

Prompt: If you don't fill all the spots,,, I'm gonna make a second request! Idk if you're doing any angst for this one, but if you are,,, something about Sun being alone for Christmas. Maybe he finds out the employees and Glams are having a party without him. Idk i just wanna make him sad. xD Don't feel obligated to do this one! This is just an extra if you want :P

Word Count: 1700

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

The Daycare has a cold atmosphere to it, being so empty as it is. The music plays as always, tune just as cheery as ever, without a single listener. Save for one. 

Every toy is in its place, all the crafts supplies are put away. There's not a thing that isn't perfectly organized within the entire space. It's already been cleaned, one, twice, and now thrice, so there's not even a singular speck of dust. 

It's spotless. And desolate. 

The children are gone, it is the holidays after all. They wouldn't be back for another day or so. In the meantime, the attendant can only twiddle his thumbs and try not to go stir crazy in the meantime. 

There's others in the Plex of course, the other bots and some employees. But they, well. They aren't exactly friendly, when it came to either side of the Daycare Attendant. 

They were never exactly sure as to why. 

Both had tried to reach out, interact, engage, on multiple occasions. Each attempt being met with either unease, wobbly kindness, or downright hostility in some cases. It got to the point where both simply just, gave up. 

It was better to not try, they realized, it made things easier to keep to themselves and not bother anyone else. At least, Moon had learned this. It was arguably easier for him, given his status as naptime attendant. Isolation wasn't an unfamiliar feeling. 

But it was for Sun. 

While Moon was fine with the quiet, Sun was borderline inconsolable. 

And that was before he had found out about the holiday party. 

It had been a complete accident. Just so happening to be walking by on his way to gather clean stuffed animals from the laundry room. Two random employees chatting without a care in the world.

"Yeah, there's even a white elephant, come on, you gotta come!"

"I wasn't gonna miss it. Are the Glamrocks participating? I feel like it'd be funny to see what they come up with as gifts."

"I think so, yeah. It's gonna be..." They notice the Daycare Attendant, voice lowering. "—Great."

The other employee gives a confused look, then turns slightly to see the bot, eyes wide.

Not wanting to make things worse Sun simply nods in greeting, and goes on his way. 

Now, sitting alone in their room, scattered papers and old crayons surrounding him, he wishes he had said something. Wishes he had spoken up, argued, criticized, cried. Anything. 

Instead, he didn't. He just stood there and took it. 

The playtime attendant can picture it, dozens of employees and the other bots crowded together somewhere, probably the dance floor. Laughing, chatting, just enjoying the company of friends and coworkers. There's probably decorations everyone, to the nines even, based on how many boxes Moon saw people carrying around earlier that week. 

Holiday music and snacks, and of course, the gift exchange. Competing for the best gift, and having a wonderful time doing it.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that they were so hated. That he was so disliked. What had he done to deserve this kind of treatment? This kind of hurt?

The Glamrocks were good enough, so why wasn't he—

There's a muted snap, causing the bot to jump and glance down to his hand. 

Another broken crayon to add to the collection. 

With a scoff he tosses it away, towards the wall not too far in front of him. It wasn't a hard throw, but apparently it was enough. 

The sound of fluttering paper can be heard as a single page falls to the ground. It piques Sun's interest, and he shifts to take a closer look. 

It's a drawing of him, one done in pencil, maybe charcoal—he'd never thought to ask—as opposed to the usual paint and crayons the kids utilized. 

Though that would be because a child didn't make it for him. You did. 

At least, he's 99% sure. You'd scurried off before he could ask. 

You worked in the gift shop, passing by the Daycare every day for work. And every day, either one of the attendants would catch you staring as you walked by the large windows. Ducking your head and rushing off whenever you got caught. 

You'd only spoken to them a handful of times, when you happened to come in to speak to the security guard about something. Sun was never quite sure why you needed the guard so much, but he didn't think to question it either. 

Your voice was always very soft, mumbling. If he didn't have such well-adjusted noise sensors he'd probably not be able to hear you. He didn't know why you were so quiet, you had a lovely voice. 

He wished you say more, on your visits. Your words always stuttered and brief. But he cherished those moments. Every little interaction was saved in several locations in his hard drive just to make sure he didn't lose them. You were probably the only person who would bother talking to him or Moon. That was precious. 

He picks up the drawing, admiring the detail you'd put into it. For something of this quality, he didn't know why you were working in the gift shop. Maybe you were doing something else, like college, and this was a temporary situation for you in the long run. 

He remembers when you gave it to him, he'd at least gotten a direct interaction, you'd slipped Moon's under the door one night before going home. 

He believes it's because of your encounter that you just ran away the second time, and he can't say he blames you. 

You'd been nice enough to knock, having been the very end of the day, the last child having been picked up just a few minutes prior. 

When he opens the door, you're looking to the ground, clutching the paper in your hands tightly. 

Surprised, but happy to see you, he speaks first. "Hello there, friend! It's good to see you!" 

"U-um, hi...." You say, still looking down. "Good, good to see you too."

You're nervous for some reason, though you're always nervous he realizes. 

He wants to fix it. He tries with a joke. "Well, you can't see me very well from there can you?"

It doesn't land. You flinch, but look up. "S-Sorry."

Stupid. Stupid. Fix it.

"Oh! Not a worry at all, Sunbeam. I just wanted to see you're smiling face." His rays spin. 

Your eyes widen. "Really?"

"Of course! A lovely smile on a face like yours just makes my day!" Surely that'll do it, let you know he's being sincere.

Your internal temperature rises, fluctuating around your cheeks and ears. Now he's gone and made you mad. Great, this is going so great, he's blowing it—

You shove the paper into his hands. "This is for you. I-I, I have to go now. Buh-bye!"

Before he can say another word you're gone, running back towards the main entrance, leaving him with an amazing drawing, and not so amazing thoughts. 

You hadn't come back into the daycare since then, which could only mean that you hated him now too. Sun rubs his thumb over your signature on the page, at least he still had this. 

The sound of laughter growing closer interrupts his thoughts. And, curiosity getting the better of him, he goes to take a look. 

Peeking out the curtains, he can see a group of employees walking by. You're among them, smiling and chatting all the while. 

Just outside the Daycare you stop, waving to the group. 

"I think I forgot my jacket in the gift shop, I'll see you guys later! Happy holidays!" 

They bid you farewell, and Sun's planning to shut the curtain again, not wanting to be weird and watch you go about your business, when he picks up on your odd behavior. 

You watch your friends leave and then glance around a few times. Then, you pull out two small, wrapped gifts and walk over to the Daycare doors. After a moment he hears a knock. 

His rays spin, and he acts before he thinks. He dives into the ball pit and as soon as he makes contact is immediately scrambling out of it and heading for the door. He takes a moment to collect himself, then opens it. 

To his shock, you speak first. "Hi Sunny! It's good to see you. I, I wasn't sure you'd be around. I um, having something for you! And, and Moon." You hold up the gifts. 

Sun short circuits. 

You got him a gift. 

You.

The person he thought hated him like all the rest. 

You thought of him, were actively thinking of him. 

And you called him Sunny.

"If, if that's okay. Sorry if I'm bothering you. I just, I really wanted to get these to you tonight. I, I thought you were going to be at the party, I was um, kinda sad you weren't. But I totally get it if parties aren't your thing! They're... not really mine either but um, god I'm rambling here I'm sorry." You look up to him then, concern in your gaze. "Are, are you okay?"

It occurs to the playtime attendant that his fans are roaring now. He has to get you to stop before he overheats. Time to play his role. 

"Ah! I'm alright friend! I'm happy to see you too! And I appreciate the thought, truly." He takes your hand, and without thinking, raises it to his smile for a kiss. "It means a lot. Would, would you like to come inside for a moment?"

Now you're frozen, temperature climbing in a matter of seconds. 

"I would really like that."

His rays spin out of his control. "Great. Great! Please,"—he stands straight, waving his other hand behind him—"Come on in."

You keep your hand in his, squeezing gently. "O-okay."

As the door closes behind the two of you, Sun decides that he doesn't really care if missed the holiday party or not. He doesn't really care if everyone hates him and Moon either. 

If he can have just this moment to share with you, and maybe more. Maybe even becoming friends?

That's enough.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Thank you @zenkaiankoku for the request! Enjoyed having a bit of angst to write hehe, still made it a little fluffy in spots but I think it still works ^-^

Masterpost link

Tag list (if you would like added, see this post for more info):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8

@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @amarynthian-chronicles

@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva

@juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a

[gendercomsumer]

if you can can you write s comfort headcannon with fem or nb reader who hates themselves to the point they refuse to look at themselves in the mirror?? (Thinking about vil and/or malleus tbh but any characters are fine) feel free to refuse!

Vil and Malleus with an S/O who can't look at themselves in a mirror because of how they hate themselves

a/n: Thank you for sending in the request! I do love some good comfort with a side of angst so this was nice for me to write! If you're similar to the S/O in this story I do hope this could provide some form of comfort to you!

Warnings: Self deprecating speak(from S/O's end),

Gn!Reader

Characters: Vil Schoenheit (710 words), Malleus Draconia (

Vil Schoenheit

Ever since the two of you started dating, Vil has made sure he compliments you at least once a day. 

Doesn’t matter the time he will once a day without fail give you at least one compliment.

From telling you your hair looks nice to you did good on a test.

It’s rare he repeats the same compliment once so you’re surprised with something new everyday.

In the Pomefiore dorm, not only are there mirrors in almost every room.

The floors and walls are polished so well that you could see yourself in it

And you hated it.

It was hard to find a room where you didn't have to feel your own reflection in the room with you.

 Vil wouldn’t pick up on it immediately, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t pick up on it soon

After the first or second time though he’d notice how you would avoid the rooms with mirrors

Even the ones without you wouldn’t look at the shining tile floor.

When you would be in his room you wouldn’t even towards his vanity, and none of this sat right with him

Once or twice when he would re-enter a washroom you were just in he would see a towel draped over the mirror

After that he knew he couldn’t let this just dwindle forever, he’d have to bring it up to you.

What was going on in his darling sweet potatoes head to make them cover every reflective surface they see?

So Vil one day while he was helping you on a skin care routine, and you had insisted on keeping your back to the vanity across the room

Vil saw this as a good time as any to bring it up. He furrowed his brows with a small frown and looked at you,

“Sweet Potato.. Is there a reason you are so adamant on never looking in a mirror..?”

 You could feel your breath hitch as his question left his lips. 

you did tell him about your true thoughts the fact you couldn’t look at yourself because of the hate you felt towards yourself

About how you couldn’t bear the thought even.

Vil would listen and let you spill your heart out even if you cry.

He’d gladly hold you or touch you as you cried if you needed the comfort but won’t force you if not. 

He knows this is a vulnerable moment for you and he doesn’t want to make it worse

Once you have spilled your feelings to him he’d look almost saddened by your confession. 

“Oh darling… You’re beautiful… in every faction…” 

He partly feels as if he hadn’t been telling you how he sees you as the most beautiful person in all of the Twisted Wonderland

He’d let you cry but he silently promises to himself that he would make sure you’d be able to look yourself in a mirror, and he’d help in anyway he could

How could his dear sweet potato see themselves as anything less than perfect?

After the confession from your end on how you felt about yourself Vil made sure that you knew he meant every words of his affirmations and complements 

Vil would also work with you on looking in the mirror

He wouldn't push you to far as he understands that this whole process will take time

 Every time you would enter his room if it was a bad day as much as he’d like to leave it uncovered, he would cover his vanity 

He wouldn’t want to worsen your mood that's the last thing he’d want to do

If you’re able to look into the mirror at least once and be able to smile at yourself, even if it’s teary eyed and for only a moment

He will be so proud of you and he will make sure you know.

 Wrapping his arms loosely around your neck and resting his forehead on your shoulder as he stood behind you, and you sat in the vanity chair.

That one look you were able to do and not have a look of disgust or disappointment was more than enough for him

“You’ve done so well sweet potato… I love you so much… so please love yourself as much as I do…” 

Malleus Draconia

Luckily (or more like sadly given the situation) Malleus dorm doesn't have that many mirrors.

They mostly just have very large and tall windows that can be reflective once freshly cleaned

but for the most part it was easy to avoid your reflection when it came to that dorm at least

In Ramshackle though the mirror, even if dusty, still reflects your features well

So with the extra cloth you covered every mirror in the dorm.

Malleus I believe that Malleus prefers the atmosphere of the Ramshackle dorm

Not to mention his beloved child of man was there so what was not to love about the place you called home?

He never really noticed the lack of mirrors until one day he saw you hiding one that had been uncovered

Then he started to become curious

It had gotten so bad that the mirror in your room that according to Grim "They have really weird dreams about" was moved out of the room and into a spare.

Malleus tried to talk to you about it "Child of man? Why is it your dorm has such a lack of mirrors?"

You'd brush it off saying that a majority of the mirrors were far beyond broken

But if you thought he wouldn't see the way you became anxious at the question and answered as if you had rehearsed it

you'd be gravely mistaken

He'd then be acutely aware of how you acted around mirrors, how you'd do everything in your power not to face them

Every time he'd look back on the times he'd frown. Why couldn't his child of man face themselves?

He even did a bit of an investigation and found all mirrors intact and fine

so he brought it up to you one day during one of your late night walks you took

You had stumbled across a small lake but you didn't look at it's beautiful reflective surface

"My dear..? Why do you never look at yourself?"

The question was sudden and took you back with a twinge of fear making its way through you.

You looked aside ashamed and pressed your lips in a thin line as you mumbled a response the feeling of tears pricking at your eyes

Malleus was taken aback, how... how could you see yourself in such a light..?

The silence was deafening and Malleus slowly reached out to you grazing your arm with his fingers

You pulled away looking anywhere to avoid his sympathetic gaze

"My dear, you have helped so many, done feats no other could dream of, and all the while captured my heart... how can you see yourself as any less than brilliant..?"

His voice was laced with pain, how could he let this go on for so long and not do something?

Malleus then made a personal vow to himself, 'even if it takes an eternity, he will have you see yourself the same way he sees you'

He would stay by your side, if you show even the slightest bit of insecurity

"My dear have I told you how wonderful you look today?"

"You are doing so well, you should take a break!"

Similar like Vil his sayings and compliments he'd barely repeats and if he does another on is coming up right after to assure you there's plenty more he loves about you

He's now acutely aware of every little thing you say about yourself and if something is even slightly self deprecating, even if it's a joke..

"Don't say that, it was one test child of man, there are plenty more to come. All things considered you didn't do as bad as you may think, some people (he's talking about Ace and Deuce/hj) barely got anything right."

He's now your personal coach helping you in some subjects, slowly building your confidence

The one day on your walk you come across the same lake and you looked at the lake, at your own reflection.

Granted you were only pointing out some flowers floating on the water, but when you looked over at Malleus it was as if you had done a heroic act

even if you didn't bring attention to yourself, or it still hurt to do, in his eyes it was progress.

The last time you were here you couldn't look at the lake in fear of seeing yourself staring back at you

This was progress, progress the two of you had worked so hard to come to

He smiled and pulled you gently and mumbled a small string of words

"I'm so proud of you my dear..."

[yourheart-inmyhands]

Hi the anon who requested the primordial sea one- that’s alright if you didn’t manage to do for the time being- in that case could I instead make a request for the archons (including Furina) with a reader who has a hydro vision instead but tries to keep their abilities eg Hydro resonance a secret so they’ll appear weaker than they actually are and the archons reactions’ to finding out (i have bias towards a particular archon already if you couldn’t tell)- it’s totally fine if you can’t but just know that everything is all good so dw too much

Also if I don’t mind could I take the 💧anon label if I can? Thanks a lot

ah ofc you can! if you still want to that is, it's been a bit since i've been able to get to this ;v; also i only did Zhongli and Furina because i'm trying to cut back a bit on how many characters there are per post so i hope you don't mind! :]

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including being held against will, delusional behaviors, abuse of power, violence towards furniture, talk of furniture being destroyed and thrown around, mentions of distrust between partners, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Yandere!Zhongli would be immediately skeptical when he finds out. What reason would you have to hide your hydro abilities from him? Why would you need to appear weaker than him? Zhongli would assume there’s more you’re hiding from him, locking you in a room until he feels you’ve confessed everything there is. You could be in there for anywhere from hours to days, so long as Zhongli feels there’s something you aren’t telling him, he’ll keep you there. The creak of a door slowly swinging open had a sense of dread washing over you, the dimly lit room that already seemed to feel small felt like it had shrunk another 10 feet. Zhongli had come to feed you, something he did a few times a day, depending on how well he felt you behaving. Ever since he stumbled upon your hydro vision, which you thought you had hidden pretty well, he had been particularly upset with you. He was determined to find out what you were hiding from him, despite your constant cries that there was nothing you were hiding from him. He just couldn’t seem to understand that you wanted a simple, peaceful life with him and that you hid your vision because you didn’t want him to think differently of you.

Yandere!Furina with a beloved who hides their hydro vision would be hurt. Were you not proud of it? Was it not good enough for you? She’s hurt, upset, angry, and just a whole slew of emotions that she can’t even list ‘em all off. Her tantrum lasts for hours as she simply passes through every emotion, taking out her feelings on the battered furniture over and over until she can make heads or tails of what she thinks. The next you see her, she’s eerily calm, speaking to you gently and asking that you sit down and have a talk with her about it. You can expect the talk to be anything other than civil though, because as soon as she hears something she doesn’t like, all the chaos from before will rain down twice as fervently.

It had been an hour already, the sofa had been nearly split in half, the coffee table had a large crack running up the center, and everything else in reach had been beaten to bits. Furina didn’t take the news of you not only receiving a hydro vision, but receiving one and not telling her very kindly. Technically as the Archon of Hydro, she was supposed to be aware of all Hydro Visions that were received, but like the other Archons, it was simply an overtold myth. At one point in time, when visions were few and far between it might’ve been true, but nowadays the glittering representatives were handed out by the dozens. Still though, Furina was fuming about how she could’ve missed it. You of all people should’ve told her as well. What was Hydro not your favorite element? Well it should be. Perhaps she just needs to show you why it’s so great? No, that’s not a good idea, maybe that’s why you didn’t like it in the first place? Cause she’s so mean! No that couldn’t be it either! A loud scream and the cracking, wall-shaking sound of the table being thrown against the wall were heard throughout the manor as Furina tried to make sense of any of the thoughts in her head. She had no idea what could’ve compelled you to hide your vision from her, but regardless of the answer, she’ll never be happy with it.

[ninjaneonleon]

A Clash of Feathers and Steel

Start

Prev

There was no helping him. Leo was lost to whatever curse the Crow had placed on him and he seemed to be not only willing but actively embracing the situation. Donnie couldn’t tell how much was Leo and how much was the curse at this point.

“What’s wrong, Othello? Can’t find the beat?” Leo snickered, flapping his wings and sending a small wave of water at Donnie. He had to jump to avoid being knocked over.

“You were never this much of a jerk before,” Donnie grumbled, pirouetting and sending the same back at Leo. He spotted on Leo, watching as his twin gracefully landed in an arabesque after the leap.

“That’s because I never had a reason to be!”

As much as Donnie wanted to talk Leo out of this, he knew it wouldn’t do a thing. Leo was too far gone and if Donnie’s family talking to him on his bad days did nothing, there was no way Donnie talking to Leo now would help.

So he did the one thing he was hoping to avoid. Donnie held out his hand and summoned his staff. It was different from what he could recall his old tech bō looked like, it was slimmer, longer and more elegant. Like it was made from starlight, delicate but enduring and unchanging.

Upon seeing the weapon, Leo let out a gurgling hiss. It sounded closer to a crow’s caw than a turtle’s hiss and it made Donnie’s feathers stand on end.

“So we’re getting dangerous, are we?” Leo spat. “Fine. I had hoped that this interaction would be different, but you’re leaving me no choice!” He flapped his wings once, twice, and two long feathers fluttered down from the tips. Leo grabbed them as they lengthened into midnight rapiers that shimmered with frozen moonlight. No doubt they’d be just as sharp a steel.

“I don’t want to do this, Leo! I want to help you and get you home!” Donnie cried, getting into a defensive position.

“That’s all I want to do for you!” Leo shot back, readying his swords. Even when on the brink of battle, Leo was just as graceful as Donnie.

The two collided with an echoing scream, the cacophony of metal on metal. This fight was as much a dance as it was a fight for their lives and honestly, as scary as it was, Donnie had never felt so alive.

This is why he was here.

This is what he was meant for.

Leo’s snarl was poisonous, his glare deadly from his shimmering blue eyes. Donnie gave as good as he got. He would defend himself and his Lake with his life.

Then Donnie got a good hit on Leo, sending him flying from the water and to the bank. His twin didn’t get up, his wings shrinking back down to be the little feathered tufts behind his shell.

“Leo?” Oh god no, had Donnie actually gone too far?! “Leo?!”

Donnie was by Leo’s side in an instant, shaking his shoulder gently to wake up, please wake up. He felt two forms approaching. Donnie didn’t care who they were, they would stay back. He hissed in their direction, his wings spreading wide. Donnie would protect Leo until he woke up, until his twin was okay again. The two figures backed up and Donnie relaxed minutely.

Then Leo groaned.

“Donnie?” His eyes were hazy as they opened, no pain present but also none of that shimmering blue energy. “Donnie, is that you?”

“Oh thank god. Yes, hi, it’s me.” Donnie scooped Leo up and hugged him close, fated enemies or whatever they were be damned.

“I feel weird. What happened?” Wait, Did Leo not remember anything at all?

“You made a bargain with someone bad,” Donnie explained gently, refusing to let Leo go. “They made you into a crow, Leo. Like how I’m a swan.”

“Couldn’t have been a black swan, could it?” Leo weakly joked with a snort. “We’re twins, and it would have been better to be opposites.” That’s how Donnie knew Leo was back to himself. He was making terrible jokes again.

“Yeah, well, apparently the crow has no taste.”

They’d figure this out, they’d figure out how to free Leo and get him home. Donnie finally understood what his family was going through. If what he was feeling was even close to what they’d been going through for how every long he’d been the Lake Guardian… well maybe it was time for Donnie to find his way home too.

So part 4 is a thing now! I have maybe a couple more parts to add but not many, this was just a little idea that came to me while I was bored at work, lol

Still, thank you so much guys for your support! I’m glad you’re enjoying my ramblings.

@tangledinink @dryad-druid

Part 5

[leegemma]

Heyyy (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)

Hope you had a good week so far ♡

Could I maybe request a Ler!Ricky (Zb1) fiction? You can choose the scenario and the Lee ♡

Have a Happy start in the new year love ♡

(pls don't stress and tc of yourself)

-🐝

Took me so so long to get to this one, I am so sorry

I did have a great start of the year though and I hope you did too, love 🥹🫶

I hope you like this fic even though it feels a little lazy, I wrote it at work 🤫

Enjoy:)

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

"Ricky is stupid~" Gyuvin teased as he watched Ricky try and solve a riddle given by the staff.

The two always bickered and played around, but for some reason this specific comment hurt Ricky as he tried to focus on the riddle instead of Gyuvin.

"There's no way Ricky can solve this~" Gyuvin continued with a laugh, still not noticing the fact Ricky wasn't laughing with him.

Ricky shook his head quickly, trying to get rid of Gyuvin's voice.

The puppy giggled with the rest of the members as they all observed Ricky squinting his eyes at the riddle, hoping it's not his brain that's the problem, but his eyes.

"We're gonna be here all day..." Gyuvin whined playfully. Throwing his head back, finally nothing Ricky's sour face when Hanbin tapped his shoulder slightly to get him to stop the teasing.

Gyuvin was confused. He didn't know why Ricky was so upset, but he did know that it made him feel bad.

The filming finished and the members walked out happily together, getting into the car that will drive them back to the dorms. Gyuvin turned around while walking only to notice Ricky walking by himself, looking down at the ground.

Gyuvin decided to give the blond some time before approaching feeling worse and worse with every second that passed.

As the members made it to the dorm, they decided to all go out for dinner, Ricky saying he'll stay in and Gyuvin being quick to reply that he will too.

The boys all left, and Ricky went and closed himself in his room. Gyuvin quickly walked after the boy and knocked on the door twice before opening it slowly. "Ricky?"

Ricky sat on his bed, looking up at Gyuvin with a blank expression. Immediately prompting Gyuvin to burst into tears.

"I'm so sorry! I was trying to joke and I didn't know how much it'll hurt you! I'm so so sorry!" The younger ran up to the bed and lached onto Ricky while sobbing.

Ricky couldn't help but smile. Biting the inside of his cheeks to try to get himself to stop. "It's fihine"

"No it's not!" Gyuvin kept sobbing. "I was being arrogant! I'm sorry!"

Ricky couldn't contain his laughter anymore. "It's okay! I forgive you. I was just annoyed but it's fine. We always tease each other."

Gyuvin raised his head to look at Ricky. "I'm really sorry"

Ricky rolled his eyes and poked at Gyuvin's side.

"Hehey! That's my thing..." Gyuvin replied, slightly rosey cheeks appearing.

Ricky smirked. "If you're really sorry then you'd let me tickle you."

"W-what?" Gyuvin asked, dumbfounded.

Ricky shrugged. "You heard me."

"You- you can't do that!"

Ricky raised his hands in defence. "I'm not doing anything! I'm just saying, if you're sorry, you'll keep your arms up and let me tickle you."

"That was not the deal!" The younger cried out and shoved at Ricky.

"We didn't close on any deal yet." Ricky's smirk only got bigger.

"Please, Ricky!!" Gyuvin begged. "I'll do anything."

"Well then you'll do what I asked you to!" Ricky giggled.

Gyuvin leaned back. "... how long?"

"20 minutes." Ricky let out after thinking for a second.

"RICKY!"

The cat giggled. "Okay fine. Five minutes. Arms up. No interrupting. You'll do it if you're really sorry."

"That's manipulation..." Gyuvin hissed out as he layed down, his arms folded and resting under his head.

"Call it whatever you want." Ricky said, sitting on the boy's hips.

Gyuvin Immediately started giggling. "Wahahait, I don't think I can."

"You can do anything you put your mind to, Kim Gyuvin!" Ricky said as he reached to claw at his friend's tummy, giggling when Gyuvin screamed and almost brought his hands down. "Hands have to stay up!"

"Shut uhuhup!!" Gyuvin trashed and squealed in suprise when Ricky pushed a single finger in his belly button.

"Did you just squeal?" Ricky teased with a laugh of his own.

"I SWEAHAR RIHIHICKY!!!!"

Ricky dug into Gyuvin's armpits with all his ticklish might. "Alright, all you have to say is that I'm smarter than you."

"MY MOHOHOM TOLD ME TO NEVEHEHER LIE" Gyuvin somehow managed to spit out.

"Careful there~" Ricky threatened as he moved to squeeze at Gyuvin's thighs and knees, getting some very good reactions.

"OKAHAHAHY!!!!" Gyuvin trashed and flopped.

"Say it!" Ricky started getting impatient.

"YOU'RE- OH MY GOHOD GIVE ME A BREAK! YOU'RE- SMARTER!" Gyuvin screamed, ensuring the whole neighbourhood could hear him.

"See that wasn't so hard was it?" Ricky patted the boy's back as he stopped the torture.

"Not hard? I thought I wahas gonna die..." Gyuvin shook his head.

Ricky rolled his eyes and stood up from the bed, offering Gyuvin a helping hand. "Wanna go join the others? They're probably not done just yet."

The younger boy stared at the hand, taking it and quickly pulling the blond back onto the bed, straddling him with a huge smirk. "I actually have a better idea..."

[toast-tales]

Cursed Cravings, Chapter 14: Assurance

In which Christopher grapples with his desire to be free, and his desire to do the right thing. Contains: 2.9k words | Chapter 1 | Read this story on A03!

Christopher slowly regained his composure as he sat there in silence for a while longer. Danny didn’t interject—the two of them simply stayed that way until Christopher’s heartbeat had finally slowed down, and he felt that he could speak without tears coming to his eyes.

“Danny…are you sure you’re okay?” he asked softly. 

He heard her sigh next to him, quieter than a whisper. “I’m fine, I told you. I mean, I could use a bath. But I’m fine.” 

She paused before she continued, a little more hesitant than before. 

“I mean…I won’t lie to you, Christopher, it was terrifying,” she breathed. “I-I thought I was going to die. I didn’t know what happened to you, either. I thought, when you started hiding away up here, when no one would tell me what was going on…I thought you were dying. And when I saw you like…that,” she muttered, swallowing nervously, “I don’t know. I was worried you weren’t in there anymore.” 

She looked up at him with a softer expression than he’d seen on her before. “But you were. You told me it would be safe. And—god, it was still terrifying, and I felt so claustrophobic and—I’m sorry, it was pretty gross—but I believed you. I trusted you.” A slight grin came to her face. “I’m just glad I’m out.” She laughed. “Hopefully, I won’t have to do that ever again, though.” 

His face fell slightly at that—the grin he’d been thinly holding up wearing away to nothing. 

After she hadn’t run away screaming, he’d dared to consider the possibility of asking Danny for permission, before the week was over. It was something he hadn’t asked of anyone in such a long time, and for the first time, he’d thought that there could be a different answer. That maybe the curse being lifted wasn’t such a far-fetched idea after all. 

That Sam had been right—Danny could be the one to break it. 

She still didn’t know about the spell that held his human form prisoner, and she couldn’t know about it—even if she now knew about his need to consume people, he still couldn’t divulge the details of the curse itself. For him to ask her to endure something so horrific again, so soon after he’d lost control of himself and violated her trust, would be hard to stomach for both of them.

She’d been terrified. He wouldn’t soon forget the way that she’d trembled in his hands, the way she’d cried out as she thought he would kill her.

Please…don’t hurt me, Christopher.

He could lie—he could say that he needed to eat her, so he wouldn’t become a monster again. She wouldn’t know that it would have no effect, to eat the same person after he’d already consumed them, borrowing their humanity to restore his own. She would be more likely to agree to that, if she thought it would help him. He could make it believable. 

His hand eased itself off of her tiny body, and he slumped back to lie on the bed, barely registering how grateful he was that he didn’t have horns to prevent him from lying back fully. 

He swallowed the lump in his throat.

“You won’t have to,” he began, nearly cursing himself as he did so. “I can’t eat the same person twice. I mean—” he hastily corrected himself, salvaging what little of a chance he had left, “I can, but…it won’t stop the transformation.” 

It was, objectively, a very stupid decision to say that to her. He didn’t know why he did. He’d effectively closed off his only option to potentially persuade her to be eaten again, hadn’t he? What was he supposed to say now—that he enjoyed it? That he just liked the way she tasted, and could she please be a doll and let him eat her, as a favor between friends? 

He’d just wanted to put her fears to rest. He didn’t want her to be scared of him. 

She sighed, and he could hear the relief in her tone. “That’s…good to know, I guess.” He could feel her get up and hobble unsteadily across the bed. “Though, that means you have to keep finding new people, doesn’t it? That…” He turned to look at her, and she gave him a strange, sympathetic expression. “That kind of sucks.” 

His smile was paper-thin in response, though he found her sympathy somewhat touching. “It does,” he agreed. 

“How…” she bit her lip as the word left it. “How do you…usually find people?” 

He broke his gaze from her and instead stared up at the ceiling. “I used to write letters to anyone I knew, inviting them to my residence. Eventually I ran out of people. Nowadays, I usually have to wait until someone happens to walk by. Sam helps bring them inside.” He glanced back, giving Danny a sorrowful look. “I…hope you don’t hold it against them, that they did that with you. They’re just trying to help me.”

Danny shook her head. “I don’t. Sam’s nice, and I guess you…don’t really have much of a choice.” She gave him an encouraging, if somewhat uncertain smile. “Maybe if I was in your shoes, I’d do the same thing.” 

He just stared back at her for a moment, somewhat in disbelief. He’d never received a comment like that from anyone but Sam—certainly never from someone he’d eaten before, who had seen just how awful he could get. No one had ever stuck around to sympathize with him before.

“Maybe,” he said simply, though he managed a grin.

She sat down a little closer to his face, mirroring his position as she laid back on the giant mattress. A bit of sadness hit him as he realized he could no longer smell her like before. It was more than his stomach being sated for now—he’d eaten her, and therefore his body no longer craved her. That tantalizing, powerful scent was absent—and though it had always been something he hated, something that made him feel undeniably like a monster, he didn’t realize until now how much of a comfort Danny’s scent had become to him. 

It felt like he’d lost something precious.

“So,” Danny began after a while, “what now?”

Now you leave, he thought morosely. What else?

He couldn’t keep her another week—there was no more pretense. She knew why he’d made her stay, and that purpose had just played out. She would want to return to her friend. He’d kept her from him long enough.

“I suppose you’d like to be with your friend again, wouldn’t you?” he suggested, trying to keep the sadness from his voice.

“I mean…yeah, I would. I just…I need to know he’s okay. I haven’t even spoken to him in a month. We’ve…we’ve never been apart for so long,” she admitted quietly. 

Christopher slowly sat up, and as he did, his eyes caught on something sitting on his nightstand, catching the light of the full moon outside his window. 

He turned to face Danny, who’d sat up as well. “Would you…like to see him?”

She gave him a quizzical look. “...yeah?”

He reached out to grab the hand mirror, its intricately carved metal cool against his skin. Another “gift” from the enchantress, though he was sure it was just another way to mock him. A one-way window to the outside world. He never could figure out why Sybil would give him a magic artifact like this, if not to exacerbate his isolation by showing him a world he could no longer be a part of.

“This mirror allows me to view anyone in the outside world—it’s magic. Anyone I want to see, I can see by looking into it.”

Danny’s eyes widened, though she gave the object a somewhat scornful gaze. “That’s fucking creepy.” 

He shrugged. “I don’t use it much at all anymore. I used to try to keep up with what went on in the world, but without being able to leave, it started to get…depressing.” 

“Wait…and you didn’t tell me about this sooner?” She huffed, crossing her arms with a slight pout. “I could have checked up on Nathan this whole time!” 

“I told you he was fine,” Christopher insisted gently. “I…I didn’t think I’d be able to explain why he didn’t have any memories of this place, or why he wasn’t looking for you. I thought it might…complicate things,” he admitted. “But this is how I made sure he was alright, and got home safely. I didn’t lie to you about that.” 

She sighed, though she couldn’t seem to argue with him. “Alright, fine. Just let me see him now.” 

He’d been about to ask for Nathan himself—but he got the sudden, inexplicable sensation that Danny should be the one to ask. He felt compelled to lower the mirror to her, and so he did. “I think you should be the one to hold this, dollface.” 

She looked at him like he’d grown another head. “What, are you crazy? That fucking thing is bigger than me.”

He could almost feel his fingers burning beneath the cool metal, guided along by the ties of magic he didn’t fully understand himself. “Just try to put your hands on it.”

She scrunched up her nose at him, but she complied—and the moment her fingers touched the handle, it suddenly shrunk to fit her grip. She almost dropped it onto the mattress in surprise. 

Christopher grinned, though it baffled him just as much to see. “I did say it was a magic mirror, doll.” He nodded on encouragingly. “Now, just ask to see him.”

Danny stared at the mirror’s surface for a moment before she took a deep breath. “Show me Nathan Hayes.” 

The tiny surface of the mirror swirled before it revealed a familiar face. Christopher had to squint somewhat to make out the details at that size, but it was clearly the man who’d found his way to the mansion before Danny.

Nathan was lying in bed, though what should have been peaceful sleep was punctuated by the sound of raspy coughing. Even from Christopher’s point of view, he could see how deathly pale Nathan was, and how weak he looked. The blankets covering him looked worn and thin, barely holding together. Have Danny and her friend really been living like this? 

Danny gasped. “Nate…” She put a hand over her mouth, struggling to hold back tears. “He’s…he’s sick. He needs me. He can’t do everything alone.” 

Christopher’s face fell, his expression stony and distant. It had been a mistake to let Danny see Nathan. He couldn’t ask her to stay longer now, not in good conscience. The fact that she was still here was a miracle—she hadn’t run away screaming. She was the first in a very, very long time. If he could just figure out a way to ask her, if he just had more time, maybe she could be the one to break his curse. Maybe he could be human again.

“You should go to him,” he murmured softly, his voice weighed down heavily with regret as he did so.

Danny turned to look up at Christopher, completely flabbergasted at the suggestion. “You’re…you’re letting me go?”

He paused, daring to meet her eyes. It felt like something inside of him shattered. “If I did, you would leave, wouldn’t you?”

“I…” Danny tilted her head for a moment in confusion. “Well…yeah. There’s people who depend on me. Nathan needs me.” She laughed slightly, as if in an attempt to ease the tension. “I can’t just stay here forever.” 

Christopher nodded absently, unsure of what he could possibly say anymore. Every selfish word felt like it caught on his tongue, and he was forced to swallow it back down. Stay. Please. Even if you don’t break the curse. Even if I’m stuck like this. I don’t want to be alone any more. I need you too, Danny. I need you. 

She placed her little hand against him again, placing the still-tiny mirror down on the bed, its surface returned to normal. 

“I can’t stay, not if Nathan is sick like that. I have…I have responsibilities back home. But I can visit.” 

His eyes slowly widened, and he sat up a little straighter. Hope pierced through the glumness that had overtaken him, like a single ray of light filtering through the drawn curtains of a window. “...you would…come back?” 

Danny nodded slowly. “It has to be lonely as fuck here, if you can’t even leave. Of course I’ll visit. Listen, just give me a week or two to get Nathan back on his feet again, and I’ll come back to see you. How’s that?” 

He smiled, though the hope that had fluttered in his chest died again as quick as it had come. He didn’t have a week. The deadline for his curse would have passed by then—he would be a giant monster for the rest of his life. He’d never be free from that terrible hunger. He’d never get to taste real food again, or dance with a partner his size, or see the outside world for himself. 

But…if he had someone to keep him company, who didn’t care that he was a giant, or that he had a set of grotesque horns atop his head, or even that he had to consume living beings just to maintain what little humanity he had left, then perhaps the curse wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe he could accept this neverending penance if he had a friend to bear it with. 

A friend. He could hardly believe it, after what he’d done, that he still felt worthy enough to call her that.

“I…I haven’t had a visitor in a long time,” he admitted.

Danny returned his weak smile with a sprightly grin of her own. “Well then, you’d better get your guest room ready for next time. Maybe help Sam dust off some stuff, they can’t be doing everything around here.” 

He laughed slightly. “That’s kind of their job, you know.” 

Danny rolled her eyes and chuckled. “Yeah, well, you could probably stand to do some work yourself. I know you’ve got plenty of time on your hands.” 

She looked up at him, with only the slightest hint of uncertainty in her features. “Can I…can I leave in the morning, then?”

Christopher closed his eyes as he nodded solemnly. “Yes. I’ll make sure Sam prepares some supplies for your trip before you go. And…” he glanced down at the mirror, questioning something in his head. “You should take that with you,” he said, gesturing towards it with a slight incline of his head.

Danny’s eyebrows scrunched together as she realized what he was talking about. “The mirror? Are you…sure?”

He nodded. “That way, you can find your way back. This place, it…it can be hard to find, because of the magic surrounding it. The mirror will help you.” 

Anyone who had previously known about him or his residence and bothered to make their way here had met the same fate—consumed, memories erased, and sent on their way. People who didn’t remember him or his manor never found it again, always getting turned around or passing right by it without a second glance. Danny would retain her memories, but with the unpredictable nature of Sybil’s magic, he didn’t want to take any chances.

He knew from his brief glimpses into the lives of the people he once entertained—Christopher Penn, the human noble, was missing, likely dead. But it hadn’t taken long for people to stop talking about him, to disregard the anomaly that was his sudden departure from society and focus on any other passing topic of interest—helped along by the fact that most of them magically couldn’t recall him at all. He was no more interesting than the state of this year’s crops, or the next lover’s scandal. All that time and effort he’d spent to remain relevant and maintain his reputation had been for nothing. 

It was part of why he’d stopped using the mirror. It had been hard to watch as his entire life flickered out of existence slowly, like the dying embers of a fire fading to nothing and blown away as ash in the wind. 

Danny took the mirror gingerly in her hands again, staring at it in confusion. “And...how is this thing supposed to help me find—”

“You’re going to VISIT?” 

Danny nearly dropped the mirror as Sam’s voice floated out from it, brimming with excitement. She laughed. “You fucking scared me. Yes, I want to come back, eventually.” 

“Um…you’re not going to come back this week, are you?” Sam was trying hard to mask their dejected tone. They couldn’t tell Danny about the curse’s deadline either, but they were skirting quite close to it. “Because that would be, uh, pretty cool.” 

Danny shook her head—oblivious to the reason Christopher and Sam were both hoping she would be back sooner. “No, I need to take care of Nathan, and everything around the house. I’ve been gone for too long. But I’ll be back. I promise.” She smiled warmly first at the mirror, and then up at Christopher. 

He could feel that warmth in each slow beat of his heart.

“Oh,” Sam said quietly. It was clear they wanted to try and convince Danny to stay somehow, but they weren’t going to go against Christopher—not this time. “Well, it’ll be real nice to see you again, Danny. I’m…I’m happy you want to come back.” Sam’s voice, though tinged with sadness, was genuine. “Anyways, I guess this mirror counts as an extension of the house or something, because I can possess it even when it’s outside the house. Which means I can come with you outside! In spirit or whatever, anyways. You just gotta ask, and I’ll be there.” 

Danny tilted her head before she grinned. “Well that’s…handy.” She looked up to Christopher again, bowing her head slightly. “I appreciate it.” 

Christopher smiled, having effectively buried all of his disappointment far beneath the surface. “Of course, doll. I’m looking forward to seeing you again.”

For once, he felt assured that the person who would be leaving his house would return—not as some unwilling captive, or a means to an end, but as a friend. And with that knowledge, for the first time in as long as he could remember, he thought he knew what it was to feel truly, fully satisfied, even as the beginnings of hunger began to slither back into the deepest part of him.

* * * * * * * * * *

Next chapter ->

I'm going to be taking a mid-story break here, but hopefully it won't be too long! Just gotta hammer out the next few chapters, because we're approaching the climax, baby! Don't worry, this isn't the end...

Let's just say not EVERYONE has forgotten about Christopher.

But thank you for reading, and I'll see you again in another week or two!

[icantgobacktoprison-blog]

Had an idea for a Franco/OC Fic, I wrote a little prologue to test the waters,it's not ready for ao3 yet but I figured I'd throw it here for now it's just a short intro nothing big or exciting yet. The idea is that a face from his past comes back to haunt him, and the fic would switch between flashbacks and the present in the trials.

------------–----------------------

The DA was supposed to be having a great time; Franco took good care of his friends, put on a nice show for him made sure he had girls all around him; they were mannequins, but at the end of the day, what did he need apart from a rack of tits and hole to fuck? The stage was set. Everything was going perfectly until those fuck wads showed up and ruined his sex show; he'd give those assholes what was coming to them, above his Lupara so far up their asses they'd be begging and screaming for death. Franco was angry, and he was on the hunt, prowling around his theatre and streets, gun at the ready the first little rat had gone down easy; he'd snagged the motherfucker running down the street out in the open, the top half of a sex doll clutched in his hands, he'd been too stupid to put the damn thing down when he saw Franco coming which had slowed him down just enough to take a blast or two from the Lupara, teeth wedged deep in his abdomen he'd fallen to the ground bleeding out in the middle of the streets the rest of of the rotten little rats had presumably left him for dead which was fine by Franco who pounced on him and pounded into his face with the butt of his gun, knocking out a few teeth adding more to his collection of ammo for his precious weapon. The other two had gone done with similar ease. It was like they wanted to die, which was fine by Franco, who took great pleasure in taking them out one by one; it was like a game to him. It was the fourth one who was giving him a real challenge, and he'd spotted her once or twice, even knicked her a few times with a shot from his Lupara, yet she slipped away each time.

"Come on out, Mommy, baby wants to play. " Franco goaded as he searched for the missing rat. He had found himself back in the theatre; he could see on the main stage that she had somehow managed to sneak in and replace three of the sex dolls, where there had only been two replaced moments ago. The DA was still alive, moaning and groaning to be released from the chair he was restrained to on the center stage; Franco knew the little rat had to be close. He kept searching, creeping into the dressing room behind the stage. That's when he heard soft whimpering and crying coming from a locker in the corner. Poor little roach was scared, like sweet music to his ears. He figured he might as well play dumb, at least for a few minutes longer; he made a show of looking under dressing tables before he turned and faced the locker. He imagined she could see him through the slats in the metal, trembling, all scared. All it did was make him excited.

"Room for one more?" he asked mockingly as he took the door in his hand; there was nothing she could do to stop him now; the little roach was his. He ripped the door open, grabbed her by the contraption on her chest, and yanked her out of the locker. She cried out alarmingly, but her screams were just sweet music to his ears.

"I need you to scream for me!" He shouted at her as he walloped her with the butt on his gun, tossing her to the ground where she landed with a pained shout, ho dove on top of her, perched on her chest so she was poised between his legs, he was grinning wildly prepared to beat her to death with the butt of his gun when something stopped him, recognition. She was barely on the edge of consciousness, face bruised and battered, but he'd recognize those dark eyes anywhere, that mess of curly strawberry blonde hair stained red with her own blood and grime; he hadn't noticed it before from the pair of goggles drilled inter her head pushing it away from her face.

"Fran.. co?" She'd barely choked out his name; it hurt to speak and breathe. Her vision was fading quickly as she slipped away into unconsciousness.

"Fuck, Fuck! " Franco couldn't believe it; why was she here? He climbed off of her and started trying to pry that damn rig off her chest. Rebecca wasn't supposed to be here; she was supposed to be back in Louisiana singing in her father's club. Hell, maybe she'd even make it to Hollywood with her pipes. She wasn't supposed to be here; the last time he had seen her was right before his father sent him away to Cuba; he remembered how fucking mad at him she was but that she had still hugged him with tears in her eyes before he left.

"Hey!" He was screaming now at those motherfuckers that he knew were watching. "You ass fucks! Get in here and get this fucking shit off of her! "

He began to fire his Lupara in any direction, trying to generate noise. He knew it wasn't manly, but he could fear tears begin to prick at the corners of his eyes. Franco Hadn't had many friends in his life; she was his friend. Hell, maybe she was his only real friend; he'd promised her once he'd take care of her and never hurt her. Yet here she was, hurt and practically bleeding out on the floor, and it was his fault, no, not his fault; it was the motherfuckers who kept him here's fault, the fucks who'd put her in this place like she was just another rat in a trap he wasn't about to them have her she was his friend he'd take care of her from now on.

From her spot on the ground, she mumbled something incoherent, her consciousness flickering like a dying lightbulb. Franco redirected his attention to her broken form, the rage in his chest twisting into a feeling he wasn't quite sure he could explain: regret? Maybe.

"shh.. " he shushed her, soothing as best he could; he didn't know how to soothe or calm. "It's alright, Becks, you just let me take care of you. I ain't gonna let nobody else hurt you, you'll see. "

[dark-twist-fairytales]

(Go on as many tangents as you want, thats what makes au talk so fun!)

The second they say he only sent a letter to them Clara is calling absolute bullshit, she knows her husband and she also knows he would never say no to extra people due to one specific expedition.

The letter is scarily similar to Claytons writing, but its those small differences, those that only the closest of people would notice that makes her so certain that its fake, she knows it is.

This causes her to do one thing she hasn't done since marrying Clayton, willingly sending a letter to his family, specifically his brother, Oscar. (Name might change)

Oscar doesnt hate his brother, no matter all the mean comments they throw each other his words hold no bite compared to their mothers hatred.

They won't take Clara seriously, so might as well get a "True" Azran involved.

At first Oscar doesnt believe her until she shows the letter.

"Thats not his handwriting..."

"Thats what i just told you!-"

The two end up begrudgingly working togheter, slowly piecing things togheter about what happened and even finding out secrets that Clayton held from them both.

They find out that his time under his mentor, the headmaster, was far less pleasent then he let on.

Oscar: "It's just an expedition, I'm certain he's fine."

Clara: "If I shoot a crossbow arrow through your heart and offered no help, would you be fine then?"

Oscar: "..... Lead the way."

Clara: "That's what I thought-"

Her leading him to where Clayton stores his used notebooks (she promised not to go through them, but time calls), and they start going through them. During points of time where Clara remembers his interest beginning, Oscar recalling only once or twice where Clayton wouldn't ask for someone to join him.

But, since Oscar is a "True" Azran, he doesn't send for a grant or search party, he is the search party leader. Whoever offers to come along can join them. Clara is immediately with it, because her with a crossbow is deadly, and Oscar would like his limbs (and brother, and niece) intact.

Desperate times calls for desperate measures. And if those measures are desperate cries, then... Let it be.

Also, I feel like, at that point, Oscar just scoffs at something really petty that Clayton did like "Dumbass, what? .... I mean, yeah, I would've been mad at that age, actually-"

And on that, Oscar would be a little hurt by not being able to see Emmy, but he also way understands it (I feel like he would still be living with their parents/in the Azran home). Clara and Oscar not mixing well, but ultimately coming together because of Clayton is such a good trope, I love it.

[novankenn]

2am (Chp 4)

--== Table of Contents ==--

It had been nearly three years since that day. The day Jaune Arc walked out of her life. Her legal team had reviewed the documents, and quickly advised her to agree to the terms. They were fair, and had clauses that allowed for amendment of the agreements at later dates, if a need to do so arose. So she signed them as she cried. Memories of times that shouldn't have happened feeding her depression. It had signalled a very dark time in her life, and she spiralled out of control. Loosing herself to drink, risky missions, and other activities.

“What are you doing to yourself!” screamed her mother as Pyrrha nursed a bad hangover on the couch of her mother's house. “Pyrrha, what is going on?”

“I'm fine.”

“No, you're not fine! You are far from fine!” Athena Nikos was livid, embarrassed, and frustrated. “So you are going to tell me what is going on with you, and I mean now!”

“Nothing is going on!” Pyrrha shouted back.

“Really? REALLY?” Athena grabbed a bunch of printed off tabloid articles, and threw them down on the coffee table before her daughter, “He IS a married man, Pyrrha! A married man!”

“His wife's a bitch.”

“And what about that video of you and that girl?” Athena was about to totally lose it. “Are you intentionally trying to destroy yourself? You are better than this! You have a daughter to look out for!”

“I don't have a daughter! She's gone! He took her away!”

“And I wonder why he felt the need to do that? I wonder?”

“Fuck you!”

“No, this is done. Get out of my house! You want to make yourself into a laughingstock then go, go whore yourself out like you have been. Go live in the bottom of a bottle, but you sure as fuck won't be getting any more support from me!” Athena moved to the table, and grabbed another handful of papers, throwing them into her daughter's face, “And here, these are all the contract cancellation notices.”

“What the fuck. They can't...” Pyrrha grabbed a couple of the papers and tried to focus on the fine print of the scattered documents.

“They can and did!” Athena was past livid now. She loved her daughter, and it tore her apart seeing her crumble from stress into addiction. But she was at her wits end at what to do. So finally, much like the father of her granddaughter did, she had to just distance herself. “Out!”

/=/

Jaune and Azalea had moved to Argus not long after Pyrrha had signed the custody and support agreements. He did it for a few reasons. To get away from the memories of his failed attempt at a life with Pyrrha in Vale. To be closer to his eldest sister, her wife and Az's only current cousin; and to be able to at least give Az a chance to know her mother's side of the family with twice weekly over night stays with her grandmother.

He knew Pyr was floundering. Years of constantly being in the public eye finally cracking all her will, and forcing to succumb to the stress, in less than healthy ways. Yet, he had to focus his concerns on Azalea. It was underhanded, he knew, but with tips offs from Az's grandmother, he avoided ever being around the house when Pyrrha was crashing there. He isolated his daughter from the train wreck her mother had become. Jaune didn't want to keep the two most important people in his life apart, but Azalea didn't deserve to see what her mother was becoming. She deserved to only have happy memories of her mother.

On good days, he was more than happy to drop Azalea off at her grandmother's, to spend much needed time with her mother, but those times quickly became less and less. Pyrrha was spiralling, and Jaune instinctively knew he had to protect Az from the disaster that was approaching. He wanted to reach out to Pyrrha, to wrap his arms around her, and make her struggles go away... but right now with what she was doing, it wasn't possible.

The support payments had made his life taking care of his growing girl easier, and allowed him a bit more freedom to pursue his new passion. He had long given up on the huntsman myth. He saw what that life was doing to his friends, and even though he started out wanting to be a hero, after Azalea's birth he understood something more. Heroes didn't have to be warriors fighting darkness, they could be someone offering warm hugs, and soft cheek kisses. He was Azalea's hero, and that was to him the greatest achievement he could have ever accomplished.

It was in the second year after his move to Argus, that Athena made a request of him. He had always been taught to give the courtesy of listening when someone wanted to speak with you, so he did. Without hesitation, agreed, to her request.

[lyranova]

600 and 700 Follower Event!

Hello everyone, I hope you’re all doing well! Since I’ve gotten a lot of my regular requests done I decided to go ahead and open my event requests 🥰, now since this is a double event you all will have a few options. You can either ask for a Oneshot or you can ask for my opinion on Black Clover Characters/Ships/Story/etc; or you can ask for both 🥰! I do have a few rules as far as my writing prompts go and they will be listed below but first I’ll put the “Character Opinions”!

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You can ask for my Black Clover opinion on any character/ship/story/etc;! This will be closed when I close my writing requests (which will be when I hit 15 for each prompt list), but until then you guys can ask me anything and everything about BC and I’ll give you my opinion, you may also ask as many times as you’d like for this, even if you have follow up questions or just want to discuss things more 🥰!

Now onto the prompts~!:

1. There will be 2 prompt options, the first prompt option is “Love Me Like You Do” which is a SFW prompt list. Then there is “Touch Me Like You Do” which is more NSFW/Suggestive.

2. I will only be accepting 15 requests for both prompt lists!

3. If you decide to request from “Touch Me Like You Do” then you MUST be off anon. Period. But I will keep you anonymous unless otherwise stated (in other words you need to request off anon, but when I post it you’ll stay anonymous!).

4. Most of the prompts are romantic in nature but I can try my best to do platonic ones if the prompt is right!

5. I do not have an end date for these, I’ll close the event when I reach 15 requests for each prompt list!

These are all the rules I can think of so far, but please read my regular rules as well because those will also apply to this! Now onto the prompt lists~!

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Playlist Here

ALL SLOTS HAVE BEEN TAKEN FOR THIS PROMPT LIST!

1 “Just let me love you (let me love, let me love you)”

2 “All I know is I know that I'm giving you my life”

3 “Hold my hand and keep me close, I'll never let you go. No, not tonight. Keep me by your side”

4 “Isn’t it lovely the way that you love me? The way that you, way that you do.”

5 “And I'd give up forever to touch you. 'Cause I know that you feel me somehow. You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be. And I don't want to go home right now.”

6 “All that I ever was, Is here in your perfect еyes, they're all I can see.”

7 “Put your hand in mine. You know that I want to be with you all the time. Oh darlin', darlin', baby, you're so very fine.”

8 “I'm breaking down living in the memories. Inside my memory,”

9 “Please don’t be in love with somebody else, please don’t have somebody waiting on you.”

10 “It's a promise I'm making to you. Whatever may come, your heart, I will choose.”

11 “The shadows of your heart are hanging in the sweet, sweet air, (I know you, baby).”

12 “What if I cried my eyes out and begged you not to depart. But now I'm not afraid to say what's in my heart.”

13 “If I was your hero, would you be mine? I know this ain't a fairytale, this is real life.”

14 “So I wrote it down on our kitchen table. If you ever forget that you love me.”

15 “Kiss me once (If you wanna take it to an even higher level). Kiss me twice (All you gotta do is say the word, you know I'll follow). Kiss me three times (If you wanna take it to an even higher level).”

16 “I’ll wipe your cheeks that are wet with tears and ask you Tell Me What to Do.”

17 “Just close your eyes. You'll be alright. Come morning light. You and I'll be safe and sound.”

18 “(All I need is you in my life). (I just wanna love you). I need you.”

19 “The shadows of this world. Will try to steal you away into their arms. But you belong in mine.”

20 “Our broken halves, they intertwine. From once was yours and once was mine.”

————

1 “I’m really in the mood to tease you today.”

2 “I’m starving, but I want to eat all of you”

3 “I want you. I want you with me, on me, and in me.”

4 “I just want to make you feel good”

5 “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle”

6 “You’re mine to touch. And no one else’s”

7 “Should I help you wash up?”

8 “I’m already dying to take you right now. So don’t tempt me”

9 “Forgive my lips, they find pleasure in the most unusual places.”

10 “You should be kissed often, and by someone who knows how.”

11 “Your pants, they bother me. Take them off.”

12 “I like it when you say my name like that”

13 “I’m not wearing any panties”

14 “You’re mine, and I don’t share”

15 “You’re So Good/You’re Such a Good Girl/Boy”

16 “Tell Me What You Want”

17 “Don’t/Can’t Hold Back”

18 “Shh We’ll Get Caught”

19 “Another Round?”

20 “Are You Sure About This?”

[xcziel]

The Walrus and the Carpenter

Lewis Carroll

"The sun was shining on the sea,

Shining with all his might:

He did his very best to make

The billows smooth and bright —

And this was odd, because it was

The middle of the night.

The moon was shining sulkily,

Because she thought the sun

Had got no business to be there

After the day was done —

"It's very rude of him," she said,

"To come and spoil the fun."

The sea was wet as wet could be,

The sands were dry as dry.

You could not see a cloud, because

No cloud was in the sky:

No birds were flying overhead —

There were no birds to fly.

The Walrus and the Carpenter

Were walking close at hand;

They wept like anything to see

Such quantities of sand:

If this were only cleared away,'

They said, it would be grand!'

If seven maids with seven mops

Swept it for half a year,

Do you suppose,' the Walrus said,

That they could get it clear?'

I doubt it,' said the Carpenter,

And shed a bitter tear.

O Oysters, come and walk with us!'

The Walrus did beseech.

A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,

Along the briny beach:

We cannot do with more than four,

To give a hand to each.'

The eldest Oyster looked at him,

But never a word he said:

The eldest Oyster winked his eye,

And shook his heavy head —

Meaning to say he did not choose

To leave the oyster-bed.

But four young Oysters hurried up,

All eager for the treat:

Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,

Their shoes were clean and neat —

And this was odd, because, you know,

They hadn't any feet.

Four other Oysters followed them,

And yet another four;

And thick and fast they came at last,

And more, and more, and more —

All hopping through the frothy waves,

And scrambling to the shore.

The Walrus and the Carpenter

Walked on a mile or so,

And then they rested on a rock

Conveniently low:

And all the little Oysters stood

And waited in a row.

The time has come,' the Walrus said,

To talk of many things:

Of shoes — and ships — and sealing-wax —

Of cabbages — and kings —

And why the sea is boiling hot —

And whether pigs have wings.'

But wait a bit,' the Oysters cried,

Before we have our chat;

For some of us are out of breath,

And all of us are fat!'

No hurry!' said the Carpenter.

They thanked him much for that.

A loaf of bread,' the Walrus said,

Is what we chiefly need:

Pepper and vinegar besides

Are very good indeed —

Now if you're ready, Oysters dear,

We can begin to feed.'

But not on us!' the Oysters cried,

Turning a little blue.

After such kindness, that would be

A dismal thing to do!'

The night is fine,' the Walrus said.

Do you admire the view?

It was so kind of you to come!

And you are very nice!'

The Carpenter said nothing but

Cut us another slice:

I wish you were not quite so deaf —

I've had to ask you twice!'

It seems a shame,' the Walrus said,

To play them such a trick,

After we've brought them out so far,

And made them trot so quick!'

The Carpenter said nothing but

The butter's spread too thick!'

I weep for you,' the Walrus said:

I deeply sympathize.'

With sobs and tears he sorted out

Those of the largest size,

Holding his pocket-handkerchief

Before his streaming eyes.

O Oysters,' said the Carpenter,

You've had a pleasant run!

Shall we be trotting home again?'

But answer came there none —

And this was scarcely odd, because

They'd eaten every one."

[pichuan]

The Walrus and the Carpenter lewis carol

"The sun was shining on the sea,

      Shining with all his might:

He did his very best to make

      The billows smooth and bright —

And this was odd, because it was

      The middle of the night.

The moon was shining sulkily,

      Because she thought the sun

Had got no business to be there

      After the day was done —

"It's very rude of him," she said,

      "To come and spoil the fun."

The sea was wet as wet could be,

      The sands were dry as dry.

You could not see a cloud, because

      No cloud was in the sky:

No birds were flying overhead —

      There were no birds to fly.

The Walrus and the Carpenter

      Were walking close at hand;

They wept like anything to see

      Such quantities of sand:

If this were only cleared away,'

      They said, it would be grand!'

If seven maids with seven mops

      Swept it for half a year,

Do you suppose,' the Walrus said,

      That they could get it clear?'

I doubt it,' said the Carpenter,

      And shed a bitter tear.

O Oysters, come and walk with us!'

      The Walrus did beseech.

A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,

      Along the briny beach:

We cannot do with more than four,

      To give a hand to each.'

The eldest Oyster looked at him,

      But never a word he said:

The eldest Oyster winked his eye,

      And shook his heavy head —

Meaning to say he did not choose

      To leave the oyster-bed.

But four young Oysters hurried up,

      All eager for the treat:

Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,

      Their shoes were clean and neat —

And this was odd, because, you know,

      They hadn't any feet.

Four other Oysters followed them,

      And yet another four;

And thick and fast they came at last,

      And more, and more, and more —

All hopping through the frothy waves,

      And scrambling to the shore.

The Walrus and the Carpenter

      Walked on a mile or so,

And then they rested on a rock

      Conveniently low:

And all the little Oysters stood

      And waited in a row.

The time has come,' the Walrus said,

      To talk of many things:

Of shoes — and ships — and sealing-wax —

      Of cabbages — and kings —

And why the sea is boiling hot —

      And whether pigs have wings.'

But wait a bit,' the Oysters cried,

      Before we have our chat;

For some of us are out of breath,

      And all of us are fat!'

No hurry!' said the Carpenter.

      They thanked him much for that.

A loaf of bread,' the Walrus said,

      Is what we chiefly need:

Pepper and vinegar besides

      Are very good indeed —

Now if you're ready, Oysters dear,

      We can begin to feed.'

But not on us!' the Oysters cried,

      Turning a little blue.

After such kindness, that would be

      A dismal thing to do!'

The night is fine,' the Walrus said.

      Do you admire the view?

It was so kind of you to come!

      And you are very nice!'

The Carpenter said nothing but

      Cut us another slice:

I wish you were not quite so deaf —

      I've had to ask you twice!'

It seems a shame,' the Walrus said,

      To play them such a trick,

After we've brought them out so far,

      And made them trot so quick!'

The Carpenter said nothing but

      The butter's spread too thick!'

I weep for you,' the Walrus said:

      I deeply sympathize.'

With sobs and tears he sorted out

      Those of the largest size,

Holding his pocket-handkerchief

      Before his streaming eyes.

O Oysters,' said the Carpenter,

      You've had a pleasant run!

Shall we be trotting home again?'

      But answer came there none —

And this was scarcely odd, because

      They'd eaten every one."

[alliwanttodoiscollectpoetry]

"The sun was shining on the sea,

Shining with all his might:

He did his very best to make

The billows smooth and bright —

And this was odd, because it was

The middle of the night.

The moon was shining sulkily,

Because she thought the sun

Had got no business to be there

After the day was done —

"It's very rude of him," she said,

"To come and spoil the fun."

The sea was wet as wet could be,

The sands were dry as dry.

You could not see a cloud, because

No cloud was in the sky:

No birds were flying overhead —

There were no birds to fly.

The Walrus and the Carpenter

Were walking close at hand;

They wept like anything to see

Such quantities of sand:

If this were only cleared away,'

They said, it would be grand!'

If seven maids with seven mops

Swept it for half a year,

Do you suppose,' the Walrus said,

That they could get it clear?'

I doubt it,' said the Carpenter,

And shed a bitter tear.

O Oysters, come and walk with us!'

The Walrus did beseech.

A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,

Along the briny beach:

We cannot do with more than four,

To give a hand to each.'

The eldest Oyster looked at him,

But never a word he said:

The eldest Oyster winked his eye,

And shook his heavy head —

Meaning to say he did not choose

To leave the oyster-bed.

But four young Oysters hurried up,

All eager for the treat:

Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,

Their shoes were clean and neat —

And this was odd, because, you know,

They hadn't any feet.

Four other Oysters followed them,

And yet another four;

And thick and fast they came at last,

And more, and more, and more —

All hopping through the frothy waves,

And scrambling to the shore.

The Walrus and the Carpenter

Walked on a mile or so,

And then they rested on a rock

Conveniently low:

And all the little Oysters stood

And waited in a row.

The time has come,' the Walrus said,

To talk of many things:

Of shoes — and ships — and sealing-wax —

Of cabbages — and kings —

And why the sea is boiling hot —

And whether pigs have wings.'

But wait a bit,' the Oysters cried,

Before we have our chat;

For some of us are out of breath,

And all of us are fat!'

No hurry!' said the Carpenter.

They thanked him much for that.

A loaf of bread,' the Walrus said,

Is what we chiefly need:

Pepper and vinegar besides

Are very good indeed —

Now if you're ready, Oysters dear,

We can begin to feed.'

But not on us!' the Oysters cried,

Turning a little blue.

After such kindness, that would be

A dismal thing to do!'

The night is fine,' the Walrus said.

Do you admire the view?

It was so kind of you to come!

And you are very nice!'

The Carpenter said nothing but

Cut us another slice:

I wish you were not quite so deaf —

I've had to ask you twice!'

It seems a shame,' the Walrus said,

To play them such a trick,

After we've brought them out so far,

And made them trot so quick!'

The Carpenter said nothing but

The butter's spread too thick!'

I weep for you,' the Walrus said:

I deeply sympathize.'

With sobs and tears he sorted out

Those of the largest size,

Holding his pocket-handkerchief

Before his streaming eyes.

O Oysters,' said the Carpenter,

You've had a pleasant run!

Shall we be trotting home again?'

But answer came there none —

And this was scarcely odd, because

They'd eaten every one."

The Walrus and the Carpenter

BY LEWIS CARROLL