#if this snippet inspires you

[seoulmatez]

“these are for you, lesser lord kusanali!” you kneel down to gift the archon the flower arrangement you made for her the night before. “thank you so much for coming to see the performance.”

the imposing presence beside her doesn’t go unnoticed.

“i brought you some, too.” your smile doesn’t falter when you turn to face the wanderer, slowly standing up and holding out the second bouquet you had put together in anticipation of today.

his fingers twitch at his side. you brought something… just for him? his lips curl downward as he tries to imagine just why you’d go and do something like that. perhaps it’s a mocking gesture, a show of pity, something of the sort. but the smile you’re wearing makes the answer clear—it’s the same reason you gifted them to nahida, because you’re simply happy to have seen him.

he takes the flowers from your hold, rotating the collection bound by a pink ribbon in his hand. soon, violet eyes like the night sky are staring deeply into yours. “i have no use for these.”

the words scratch at your heart like a cat’s claw—quick and painful, but you try to ignore the way it stings.

“oh, well, you don’t have to keep them.”

you reach out to take the flowers back but the gloved hand tightens around the bunch of stems, and you’re almost certain that the wanderer pulls the bouquet closer to his chest. “it’s rude to ask for gifts back, is it not?”

“i suppose you’re right.” the scratch he left behind on your heart is quickly bandaged, the lingering sting disappearing like it was never there to begin with. you can’t help but smile, let hope sprout in your heart at the thought that maybe you’re making your way into his. “in that case, i hope you find some use for them.”

[unproduciblesmackdown]

Lackadaisy Enrichment

[hisui-dreamer]

jamil, who loves showing affection by cooking food for his loved ones, making sure the curry is seasoned to perfection and your favourite dessert to go along with the meal.

and you, with zero spice tolerance but so incredibly overwhelmed with gratitude and affection for how hard jamil's worked. and with your favourite dessert right there enticing you, you're determined to finish every drop of curry on your plate.

...

it doesn't go too well.

indeed, you have finished every drop of curry. but you've also downed around 12 cups of water, and the burning in your mouth is still unrelenting. jamil visibly looks concerned with how much water you're drinking and it's unavoidable you address your non-existent spice tolerance.

jamil sighs, and his eyes show a hint of exasperation you often see when he's following kailm's whims. you avert your gaze to the floor, upset at yourself that you've disappointed him and maybe he hates you now how could you not like his fo-

flick!

ouch! your hands reach up to shield your forehead, and your eyes meet his. not exasperated, maybe slightly, but amused and... loving??

"dummy, don't go forcing yourself to eat what you don't like," he sighs

you timidly explain you could never do that with how much time and effort he puts into his cooking

his smile widens slightly.

"for now, i guess i'll be making more desserts for you then,"

he chuckles at the way your eyes light up.

"here," he feeds you a spoonful of the chilled dessert. "is your mouth still burning?"

oh. you don't think it is anymore.

but your heart sure is.

[questionable-idea]

hey past me who wrote this late at night, what the fuck

[wikiangela]

wip wednesday

thanks for all the tags for sunday and tuesday! <3

started yet another wip 🙈 I was watching oth and heard one line and got inspired lol so here's some bucktommy morning cuddles, and istg this one will be short and fluffy and hopefully done soon 🤞 haha

___

“Where are you going?” Tommy mumbles sleepily, eyes still closed, a small frown creasing his forehead. Buck chuckles quietly and can’t resist leaving another kiss on Tommy’s lips. It’s honestly adorable how his big, strong, hot firefighter boyfriend, who’s always so cool and collected, can get so grumpy in the morning without cuddles. He’s sure no one would believe him if he told them, but he likes that – he’s the only person who gets Tommy like this, who knows him like this. The thought makes his heart race and stomach flip, feeling as excited as at the very beginning of their relationship.

“Well, I was gonna go make you breakfast and then wake you up.” Buck says, fingers running through Tommy’s tangled curls. “You can go back to sleep, baby, and I’ll be right back.” he whispers, one of his hands starts drawing mindless shapes on Tommy’s back.

“Mm, no.” Tommy just responds, burying his face in Buck’s neck.

“You don’t want breakfast in bed?”

“I want you in bed.” Tommy says stubbornly, punctuated by a soft kiss to Buck’s neck and his arm around Buck’s waist tightening.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @weewootruck @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg @rogerzsteven @bidisasterevankinard @giddyupbuck @sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @buddieswhvre @fortheloveofbuddie @daffi-990 @hoodie-buck @aroeddiediaz @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @tizniz @exhuastedpigeon @underwaterninja13 @spotsandsocks @hippolotamus @your-catfish-friend @diazsdimples @dangerpronebuddie @loveyouanyway @neverevan

[elvensorceress]

sunday snippet

I meant to have this fic done ages ago but it's now somehow three times as long as it was, I've rewritten it five times, and I'm still working on it 🫠 oh well. have a snippet from snickerdoodles.

@tizniz @hippolotamus @eddiebabygirldiaz @daffi-990 @exhuastedpigeon @spotsandsocks @kejfeblintz @smilingbuckley @sofa-king-lame @chaosandwolves @smilingbuckley @belasmalhotra @bekkachaos @blutterlie @sazanahashi @livinginsunnyhell @epicbuddieficrecs @sparklespiff @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @dangerpronebuddie continued from Wednesday

Eddie tries again, but still sounds rough and hollowed out. “I don’t want to drag you down. Okay? You should move on and forget me and— and it’ll be better.”

Not so much for Eddie. He’s never let go of anything in his life. It’s all there hiding under the surface, stuffed in cages. But Buck should move on. Buck should survive him. 

Is this their only future? It feels like losing everything. Eddie is losing everything. He’s kidding himself if he thinks he hasn’t already lost Chris. What if Eddie doesn’t survive this time? What will happen to everyone he loves? Everyone who loves him?

Does anyone love him? Does he mean anything to anyone? Has he ever meant anything?

“Forget— I should forget you?” Buck snaps, his anger un-contained fire now, not just a hint of smoldering kindling. Vicious, spitting, sparking, living flames that will turn everything to ashes. 

Maybe they should actually fight and say awful things and then it would be easier to walk away. 

Eddie’s not sure he could even manage that right now. There’s nothing left in him. No fight, no fire. It’s all shattered, scattered pieces. But he would try. If Buck needs that. 

He might need that. He snaps again, “Like you’re a pair of socks that disappeared in the laundry? Or something I meant to pick up at the store and spaced? Like it’s easy? Like you’re nothing? Like this? Us? You and me? Means nothing?”

Okay, when he puts it that way… it sounds dumb. But how else can Eddie stop hurting him? “No,” Eddie says. Not fiery, not loud, not anything. “No. Just. Something that doesn’t—”

“You're my best friend. You— you’re— I’ll let you go. Okay. Whatever. I’ll do that because I know you and I know you need Chris and I get it. I wouldn’t want you to do anything but love him exactly the way you do. But I won’t, will not and can not pretend that you aren’t my best friend and my partner and the person I love more than anything. All right? I’m not going to do that. I’ve spend years—literal— almost a whole decade of years loving you more than anything. I’m not going to just forget that or forget you. I’m not throwing that way. I’m not ever going to lie and say otherwise. This is not a ‘move on and grow out of it’ scenario. I love you more than anything in the world. Okay? You told me I wasn’t expendable and I had to deal with that so you have to deal with this. You mean everything to me and I love you, and that isn’t going to change even when you leave.”

“—hurt you,” Eddie finishes. It doesn’t really sound finished now. He says it because he was already saying it. 

But that the fuck does he say now? 

Eddie doesn’t usually think of himself as small, quiet, or fragile. But he feels like that now. His feeble words sound like it even in his own ears. Small. Inconsequential. Torn apart.

Buck steps back toward him. Not enough that they’re touching, but enough that they’re closer. “Hurt me. Drag me down. I don’t care.”

Eddie recoils. No. No, he hates that idea. He is not doing that. Not intentionally. Not. What the fuck. 

He knows he said the words. He said them because his mother said them and they stuck and haven’t left his head or his heart and it’s all he does. Ruin people he loves. 

Buck shakes his head. “Be in the way. Burden me. Share whatever weight you’re carrying. Be something that stays even if you’re not here. Be part of my life even if it hurts. I don’t care if it hurts, I need you to be something to me. Having nothing of you would be a hundred, thousand, million times worse. I am in this with you. I always have been. Don’t shut me out just to spare me. If you’re facing the fire, I want to be right there with you. Please don’t make me lose everything of you. Please don’t— please. Don’t pretend this is nothing. I can take you leaving, I can’t take this,” he motions between them, “meaning nothing.”

Eddie stares and doesn’t move. And stares harder like it will help him understand. 

He knows he’s breathing still because there’s air. 

Maybe he’s not breathing. But something is making air flow in and out of his body. Like rescue breaths? Supplemental oxygen? It’s not Eddie doing it, he’s not taking in air, but it happens anyway. 

He doesn’t understand. Maybe he never has. Maybe his brain stopped processing information when he stopped breathing because the brain can’t function without oxygen. Something like that. He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t. 

Buck wants something of him even after everything? After all the people who have walked out on him and treated him like he doesn’t matter? Even with how Eddie fails and hurts people who care about him? He means something to Buck? Even though he’s hurting him and abandoning him and losing him? Eddie’s just another person who leaves him. He can’t hurt Buck. He can’t keep doing it. Buck doesn’t deserve this. And Eddie deserves no loyalty, no forgiveness. 

He doesn’t deserve anyone’s love. Not in any form. He shouldn’t have it. He’s never had it. 

“I don’t—” Eddie tries to say. He has to say. He has to make the words come out. “I don’t want to hurt you the way Abby hurt you. I don’t want to do that.” 

Buck shakes his head again and starts to say something.

Eddie beats him to it. “I know it’s not the same. I know I’m not— I know you don’t— It’s different. Still. I know how she hurt you, and I don’t want to do that. I don’t know how to not do that. I’m leaving you here. In my house. Just like she did when she left you. And I have to—” Do the same fucking thing? Give him up? Walk away? Destroy everything they made together? And maybe the only way to survive is to do what Eddie does best and ruin everything? 

He looks back at Buck and doesn’t mean to say it. He wasn’t going to say anything. It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t matter. He should be mean and nasty and he should tell Buck he means nothing, this means nothing, and then Buck can just be justifiably angry and hate Eddie properly. 

And it would spare him. Whatever pain and tragedy that is associated with being near Eddie. It would spare Buck. 

That’s what he should do. 

That would be mercy and kindness. Pick up the weapon and blow this all to hell. 

Eddie can’t breathe. He can’t do this. Any of it. 

He can’t let go. He can’t lose Buck. 

And then he’s suddenly confessing, “I don’t want to do this."

It’s too late. It’s always too late. And what he actually wants has never mattered. He doesn’t matter. He never has. He twists his hands together and has nothing else to hold onto. It’s too late, so none of this matters. Eddie doesn’t matter. But he meets Buck’s lost gaze, stares into his eyes for three seconds, and he can’t keep it in.

“I want to be with Chris. I miss him so much. Every minute of every day. But I don't want to leave here. I don't want this. But it doesn't matter what I want. It never has. The one time I said, 'What about me? Why didn't you think of me?' Chris left. He left because I hurt him. And my dad says, ‘don’t wait thirty years to listen to your son.’ So I listen. I don’t know what the hell else to do. I listen, and I do what all of them ask. Even when it’s the last thing I want and I’ve already said, no, please stop, I need more time, please hear me. They don’t listen to me. I’m still nothing to every single one of them. And I just keep thinking why don’t I ever count? Why don’t I matter even a little bit?

"You think you aren't everything to me, too? Do you think that I don't love you just as much as you love me? But I don’t get to pick you. I don’t get to have anything of you. I hurt everyone I try to love including you and Chris. I’m not enough for anyone, in any way. I can’t love anyone the way they need or the way I’m supposed to. You say you’re defective parts, well I’m fucking broken.

"That’s why you should forget me. I don’t matter. You shouldn’t care. I should mean nothing because I am nothing. I’m not worth this. If I were a better, stronger person, I’d make you hate me. But I can’t even do that. I don’t want to hurt you more. I have to lose you and I don’t know how to lose you. I love you more than anything and it’s not enough. I don’t know what else to do but say, you should move on and forget me.”

Eddie turns away and covers his face, tries to hold his head because it’s aching. It’s too much. That was too much. He’s not supposed to be falling apart. Everything is supposed to be getting better. 

Shards of ice crack and fracture and break underneath him. Everything in the cage around his ribs snaps and he’s crying into his hands, trying to keep it together. Trying and failing. Always failing. His face is already wet. He was already broken. A long time ago. So many times. 

Buck is suddenly behind him. Not distant. Close behind him. He touches Eddie’s back gently and then steps around until he’s standing in front of him. He reaches between them and rests his hand on Eddie’s chest. As if he can stop the never-ending bleeding that’s somehow always pouring from Eddie’s heart. “You are enough, Eddie. You’re more than enough."

[a-whisper-in-the-forest]

In more ways than one

Villain pulled their towel out of their bag. They padded their forehead dry as they sat down on the bench in the backroom of the fighters pit. Good thing they won this one, money was getting tight again, they thought as they downed their water in one big gulp. When they placed the bottle back down again, they noticed a figure standing in the doorway. 

“Good evening, Villain,” the tall person in front of them spoke with elegance. “Supervillain,” Villain huffed in response. “Not even a good evening? I’m used to a bit more hospitality from you. On the other hand, you are known for being rather blunt, so I guess I can’t take too much offense,” the criminal leader said as she slowly walked forward. The other looks up at the smiling Supervillain. “What do you want?” 

The criminal mastermind curls their lips into a smirk. “You. In more ways than one,” they tease, leaning forward. Villain doesn’t budge. “I already turned you down. In more ways than one, as you put it.”

“Oh, come on, Vil,” Supervillain smiles. “I could do so much for you.” Now it was Villain’s turn to smile. “I’m sure you could, but I’m more than content where I am now,” they said, leaning back. “Doing what? Fighting in a literal pit for people to watch? We both know you can do so much more than that,” Supervillain says, sounding like a disappointed parent. Villain shakes their head. “So what I can do more? I like this.” The criminal leader huffs. “I suppose I can just keep coming to your fights then. They're quite nice to watch.” 

Villain stands up from the bench, starting to undo their wraps. “Well thank you, I put quite some energy into perfecting my fighting style.” Supervillain takes a step closer, backing Villain against the bench. “I wasn’t talking about your fighting style, love,” 

Villain glances away. As much as they rejected Supervillain’s ‘confessions’, they couldn’t help but think about the possibility…

No, they couldn’t allow themselves to.

“Vil…” the criminal whispered, placing their hand on the fighter’s cheek. “I really do like you. More than what is considered safe, I’m afraid,” Villain sighed. They really wanted to, but it’s such a risk. Not only is it a big step up from their current antics: petty crime and just annoying the shit out of Hero to step into literal organised crime. They would become an emotional risk for Supervillain and a target for the Heroes. But still…

“It’s not safe…” Villain whispers, looking in the other’s pleading eyes. “I’ll protect you, with everything in my power. Not that you need it…” Supervillain added smiling. They stared at each other for a few seconds before Villain made a decision.

They grabbed Supervillain’s jaw and pulled them in. Immediately their lips met. Supervillain didn’t hesitate for a second the moment they realised what was happening. They pulled the other closer, pressing their bodies against each other. It’s in that moment, while Villain felt a warmth spread in their chest, that they knew they made the right decision.

Hi, another short one. It's starting to become a theme. Hope you enjoy :)

Btw, ignore how badly the kiss is written, i have no idea what I am doing

[lucabyte]

i am looking at nohats au 👀 please share more

So! NoHats! I'm going to grab you and use this to ramble. A Lot.

The NoHats AU is @samhainian's it's just that I'm the strange little freak who takes the words said unto me and executes on them. But I can still do a little explainer on what our overall thoughts and vibes are. (And, that we are in fact propping up a little box with some cheese under it here. 🪤 Please (PLEASE) feel free to pick up what we're putting down.)

We're far from the only ones exploring a "what if siffrin fucking died" AU, though the main difference with NoHats is the placement of the death in the timeline. Instead of being 'Mal Du Pays Wins' or 'Act 6 encounter goes horribly wrong', the death is… Just after the (literal) falling action.

(This placement is because Sam is a comic book fan who thus has become used to characters being ripped away at the cruelest times by shitty writers. THANK FUCKING GOD adrienne is not that and isat is delightful yippieee, but, back on topic.)

Giving the party the full understanding of What Happened that you get by putting the death after black hole siffrin, but before the A6 encounter leaves an interesting gap to be filled. See, making Siffrin's death very much not Loop's fault means that… this once again reads (when not read as simply a tragedy...) as the universe doing what it sees fit to fulfull Loop's wish… Thus making Siffrin's death Loop's fault again, but only in their eyes. And only in a way they could express if they were honest about who they were…

And this is where having had excuse to waffle about my general Postcanon Loop thoughts the other day comes in handy, because Sam and I have that as our canon-compliant reading to begin with, NoHats plays off of a lot of the same readings of Loop's character. Namely: Uh Oh Somebody's Lying By Fucking Omission Again. (BECAUSE TO BE FAIR THIS TIME… HOW THE FUCK WOULD YOU HANDLE THAT?)

Now, neither Sam nor I are fanfic writers, so this has been a little bit trapped in our heads and DMs (and my unfinished art but,)

But our thoughts on how NoHats like… Goes.

Siffrin's death is peaceful, but that does not mean the aftermath of it is. I can't imagine the party takes it well, especially after understanding the circumstances of the Loops. (And, of note, in A5 where nobody had the discussion on what to do with each other's bodies should something happen…) But I'd imagine it traumabonds them somewhat (understatement of the century) and now knowing how the rest of the party feels, they resolve to travel together for the forseeable future.

The party track down Loop to deliver the terrible news, since they were clearly Siffrin's friend too, and invite Loop along to travel at least long enough to (let them grieve) get the burial over with. Loop, here, can be helpful in knowing what Siffrin would've wanted where the party would be at a loss. Loop, I think, takes a bit of a lead on the funerary aspects of it all, because, um. (Performing rites on your own body, huh?)

Then, as things are after a death, life just… Kind of has to continue on as normal. The party travel, pick up Nille, and get to know Loop as this mysterious new person. Maybe in this situation they might stay in Bambouche for a while to give Bonnie more stability since. They are probably taking it the worst. It would've come out of absolutely nowhere for everyone in the party obviously but god, for a kid? For A Kid?

It should be stated NoHats is not intended to be grimdark, just y'know. An exploration of grief. This is also why it's got a bit of a lopsided focus on Bonnie vs the rest of the party because hhrrhghghhghghhhghhghhh <- incoherent

Now, a crossroads.

How does the party discover Loop to be Siffrin? How long does it take. How much have the party embraced them as part of the family (especially with something as intense to bond over as this)?

There's the Odile option. Have her put it together and have to bring it up somehow. This could also be done by Isabeau, perhaps. He's smart. (which. God. If anything's the real Isabeau Torment Nexus it's this)

Then there's the other option batted around by Sam and I. The: The Universe Dislikes Duplicates option.

The items in the house that fzzt away when inspected. The Universe doesn't like there to be two of something, at least not when they're acknowledged. But one of something is just fine…?

Which is to say. I'm not a personal proponent of 'Loop getting their body back'. EXCEPT …… except this one time.

There's only one Siffrin now, so they don't need to be obfuscated to exist.

Consider, if you will. Loop swallowing their guilt for long enough to be comfortable. Falling back into old habits. Without another Siffrin around to compete for the niche of, they actually begin to act like Siffrin again. Not intentionally, it's just… The party is as welcoming as they've always been. And the party swears they keep catching glimpses of a face under all the light.

Then, one day, while still not fully human again, the resemblence becomes undeniable. Loop having not even noticed until everyone looks at them like they've seen a ghost.

Has it been months? How long have they kept up this lie? Is it even a lie, to them? They're Loop. But they were, once, Siffrin.

Even after explaining it, does that make it better or worse?

Bonnie cuts through the betrayed, struck-nerve reactions with a sobering "I missed you."

… Anyway !

Yeah so that's the vibe for NoHats. As for LoopLoops? That's more nebulous. I think it can go anywhere really in the NoHats timeline. I err personally toward the "Loop continuously replays the last 10 minutes before Siffrin's death almost immediately after they find out and have to parkour their ass up the House in the most distressing situation possible to try and get them to hold on, just please hold on." (Remember! Siffrin can remember the contents of Loop's loop backs in the A6 fight!)

But there is the possibility that this happens months, or worse years down the road. One last Loop back. Throw it all away for the chance to just get that one thing you didn't know you even wanted but now know you NEED.

Misc:

Okay miscellaneous time.

This is where I admit that I have a bunch of unfinished NoHats art that I haven't gotten around to yet because I feel like a right tool being so obviously Loop-Centric with my fancontent (I AM . . I REALISE I AM NOT DOING MUCH TO BEAT THE ALLEGATIONS.) So like if people want to see that please say because euaghghghhfh <- the nervous.

this is like the most fucked up place to do isaloop fr. anyway.

one of Sam's mid-game observations that I'm just going to share for no particular reason is that Bonnie's hair shares a bunch of shapes with Siffrin's. The flick up at the top, the 3 pronged shape of the fringe… just something to think about.

Without 2 Siffrins around to compare each other to it'd likely be a lot harder to notice Loop's similarities. Doesn't mean that those similarities don't sting more in this context though.

If you do NoHats without LoopLoops. The concept of this all fading into memory years down the line while they just have slightly-glowy but otherwise regular Siffrin hanging out is fucked up to think about. Just like real grief. Augh

6. a peek into the original dms as a treat from us

[massivementalitynut]

My Broadway Comm of Nanami Kento from @iwanttobeaseme

[the-broken-pen]

“I don’t need you.”

It sounded less grounded than the villain had wanted it to. It sounded like something someone had told them to say, and they were just repeating it with half hearted determination. They said it again, “I don’t need you.”

“No,” the hero agreed. They were grinning. “You don’t.”

The villain floundered. They, in all honesty, wanted a fight. To prove something, they supposed. That they really didn’t need the hero. That they weren’t in the wrong, here. “What?”

“I said,” the hero said slowly, and the beginnings of a grin curled at the edges of their mouth. “You don’t need me.”

“I don’t need you,” the villain repeated, and the hero nodded encouragingly. It just made the villain want to hit them.

The hero lounged against the doorframe, halfway in and halfway out of their apartment. And truly, that was the worst bit of it all—the hero wasn’t showing up outside the villain’s house, or driving by the villain’s work to see if they truly looked happier without them. But the villain was.

They wanted to scream, and kick, and throw plates onto the ground.

‘Leave me alone.’

But they couldn’t say that, because the hero had. They had cut contact and blocked numbers and ignored the villain’s car as it went by. Still, the villain felt haunted. As if they would never be clean of the hero, parts of their soul forever dirtied by it all.

The hero’s smile, and the way their voice sounded when they knew the villain would cave to their wishes.

They just wanted the hero to—

“Leave me alone.” It slipped out against their better judgement. From the way the hero’s grin widened, they knew it had been the worst thing they could have said.

“Darling, I have,” the hero said, their tone saccharine. Pitying. “You’re the one outside of my apartment.”

It felt like being burned alive, the frustration of it. The way it rose in their chest but had nowhere to go, leaving them shaking with nothing and everything trapped under their tongue.

“That’s not what I meant and you know that—“

“What, you miss me that bad? I thought you—“

“Shut up,” the villain snapped. The hero raised an eyebrow.

“It’s eating you alive, isn’t it?” They sounded pleased.

“It’s not,” the villain protested.

“I told you, you don’t need me.”

“I know,” the villain grit out.

“But you want me.”

Something in the villain’s brain stalled.

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t need me. You never have,” the hero said it like it was a fact. “You want me, though. Even as the sound of my name burns you, and the memory of me rots in your mouth, you’re going to want me.”

“You’re wrong.”

“Am I?” The hero’s voice dropped to a whisper. “You can go out to every bar in this city, kiss a hundred people who look like me and get just drunk enough to forget you’re not mine anymore—but you’re never going to stop missing me.”

The hero knew, of course they did, how hard the villain had tried to forget it entirely. The disaster they had become trying to be clean again.

“No matter how many shots you take to block out the memory of me, you’ll always be mine.”

“You’re insane,” the villain finally managed. The hero simply tipped their head to the side in acknowledgement. “That’s not-what’s wrong with you—“

“You’re the one who misses me.”

It stung, deep in the villain’s stomach. It took them too long to remember how to breathe—too long after that to think of what to say.

“If I’m lucky, I won’t ever have to see you again,” their voice quivered, slightly. “But knowing us, the next time we meet it will be in hell.”

The hero laughed and closed the door in their face.

The villain blocked them. Avoided the side of town the worked in. Moved three cities over.

It didn’t matter.

The villain could still feel the hero under their skin.

Later, whenever someone would ask, “Have you ever been haunted?”

The villain would think back to the hero.

And say, “Yes.”

[1singulargrape]

yuuji cannot use a chair to save his life

Sukuna was sitting on the floor, his upper arms resting on the couch behind him. His head was tilted to the side as it rested on his fist, and he lazily looked at the screen in front of him.

Yuuji was playing a video game, a "shooter game" with many colors and sounds that looked more like the mess the brat watched on his phone rather than anything coherent. Trying to follow along made Sukuna's head spin but there were a few things that were easy to catch on.

Yuuji's character exploded into a colored puddle, and without missing a beat Sukuna laughed at him. "You suck at this," he added.

Yuuji turned to glare at him, straining his neck while doing so, "I haven't played in months and the other team has a sniper, so if I don't try to move up we're never getting back mid."

He turned back at the sound of his character respawning, "And my team only has short to mid-range weapons so we're at a disadvantage here."

Sukuna couldn't be bothered to understand what any of that meant. "I'm only hearing excuses. If you were actually good at this game of yours you wouldn't need teammates to win."

"It's a multiplier game, having teammates is the whole POINT!" He screamed the last word as he narrowly evaded an attack that would have surely got him killed again, exploding his opponent in the process. His momentary glee was quickly crushed as his character also exploded for seemingly no reason.

Sukuna didn't try to hide his chuckles while the young man anxiously looked at the map while respawning. The match ended before he could get onto the field again.

Despite the general chaos of the game Sukuna only needed one look to know the results. He smiled with all his teeth, poking at Yuuji's temple with his free hand, "Maybe you should give up for now. What is it? The fifth loss in a row?"

"Oh, shut up," he fell back, landing on Sukuna's chest, "I just need to shake the rust off," he closed his eyes for a moment, knowing how to queue for another match without looking.

Sukuna huffed fondly, "You've been saying that for the past 30 minutes, brat."

Yuuji didn't add anything, only pouting a little. He made his character jump up and down with the hand he still had on the controller. Sukuna tightened the arms he had warped around Yuuji's waist, filling the gap until the younger man sat back up for the next match.

.

.

Yuuji was on his phone, checking over his social medias, laughing at memes and catching up with the tea of strangers online while sending out anything interesting to his friends

What had started out as him sitting beside Sukuna was now him halfway over the other man's laps, his upper back and neck held on a massive arm and hand.

Sukuna was reading old history books, saying he wanted to "catch up" to what happened while he was sealed. One time he mentioned to Yuuji how lacking historical records felt compared to the reality of life during his time, but that didn't stop him from reading them; in fact having a basis to compare how things were when he was still alive compared to what was recorded granted him a far better understanding of other recordings, according to him.

Yuuji didn't really get why he'd spend so much time reading from the source when there were so many videos online detailing their country's history. He had provided Sukuna with a phone for that reason but he only used it for 2 weeks before permanently retiring it to a drawer saying that "it was no wonder the brat was so stupid with the amount of trash accessible through that thing”.

Not what Yuuji had expected when Sukuna had spent those 2 weeks with an average of 12 hours of daily screentime, but hey.

While he was scrolling, Yuuji came across something that made him grin. "Hey, old man!"

Sukuna turned one eye to look at him which was enough acknowledgement for Yuuji, "Look at this," he turned his phone to him.

A picture of an adult tiger lying on its side with a cub pawing at its face was shoved into Sukuna's vision. "It's us."

Yuuji was grinning from ear to ear, giggling to himself. He took back his phone after receiving a hum of acknowledgement and they both resumed their respective activity.

Once Yuuji was fully focused on his screen again, Sukuna allowed himself to smile.

.

.

"Are you done showing off?" Yuuji asked annoyed. As his answer, Sukuna pushed back, going from doing push-ups on one hand to one finger and it only pissed off Yuuji even more.

Originally Yuuji was simply working out a little and was joined by Sukuna who not only matched Yuuji's moves but also made a point of one-upping him at every turn.

Yuuji watched from the side as Sukuna finished his set of 1 finger push-ups, wholly unimpressed as he was pretty sure he could do the same.

He simply knew that Sukuna would one-up him again somehow and he didn't want his light work-out session to turn into their usual competitions.

"Is that all you got brat?" Sukuna was smiling with all his teeth, still holding a perfect plank position, "Was such a simple move enough to scar you into surrendering?"

Well, Yuuji couldn't let that slide. "I just think that this was way too easy for you."

Yuuji walked closer and got on Sukuna's back, sitting in the middle of it. He knew that a man who could carry entire buildings wouldn't be bothered by his weight, but he was still annoyed by the fact that the other did not budge. Not even breaking a sweat.

"Is that it?" Sukuna changed the arm holding him and started another set. "This is still a lightwork brat. Unless you also want me to sit on your back as well to see if you can match the strength of a single one of my arms?"

"I can carry you pretty easily you know that?" Yuuji added with a frown.

"I'd love to see this," he added mockingly which only made Yuuji angrier.

The older man finished his set. A bit passed and he eventually laid down on floor, Yuuji still on his back.

"Hey what are you doing now?"

"Given how comfortable you seem up there I have decided to claim victory this time and let you enjoy yourself. How benevolent of me, I know."

Determined not to leave this as a loss, Yuuji got up and immediately deadlifted Sukuna off the ground.

.

.

Most beds weren't comfortable to Sukuna, made in sizes too small for his bulk and extra limbs, yet sometimes he'd ditch the massive one in his room to sleep in Yuuji's.

And what could Yuuji do if he was tired as well? With Sukuna lying on his back, arms splayed open and legs dangling off the edge, there wasn't that much place left for him to sleep on.

Yuuji crawled up the bed and laid directly on Sukuna's chest, hair tickling the bigger man's chin. He wrapped his arms around the other's neck while 2 hands placed themselves on the small of his back. 'For stability' they both thought.

Like this they both drifted to sleep, hearts close to one another and beating in sync to a slow and steady rhythm.

.

.

.

.

On some day they'll go picnicking together, as if they weren't spending enough time with one another.

They ate, they talked, then they both fell silent, a comfortable sensation covering them both as they simply enjoyed each other's presence as well as the nature around them.

Sukuna's head was laid on Yuuji's laps. Gentle fingers ran through his hair and massaged his scalp; the sun kept them warm and a soft breeze rustled the leaves of the trees around them.

Yuuji had already zoned out, moving his hands automatically in a way that felt right to him, whereas Sukuna had started to drift off to sleep.

Small moments of peace they wish could last forever

[daffi-990]

Fuck it Friday

Tagged by @diazsdimples who posted a whole ass fic! Go and give it a read, it’s a fun one 😁

Have some more from when your heart releases, you won’t fall to pieces aka the Eddie breakdown fic. The writing beans aren’t beaning for this wip, even though I’d really like them to be. Still .. thought I’d share something I wrote for it a little ways back (this is just after the scene from canon where Eddie says he’s scared he’ll never feel normal again.)

“What if I can’t find normal again? What if this is my new normal, Buck?”

“I’ll still be here. I promised to have your back and I meant it. Nothing is going to scare me away from you.”

Away from loving you.

Eddie’s eyes widen slightly, his mouth going a bit slack as he stares at Buck in a way that looks an awful lot like awe. Buck’s starting to think maybe he said that last part out loud. It doesn’t matter though, because it’s true. Nothing he learns about Eddie will scare him away. Every bruised and scarred piece of Eddie that he’s ever been shown has been carefully gathered up and placed with the others, all held within the safety of Buck’s heart, their edges slotting in perfectly beside his own.

Buck clears his throat to break the moment, now is not the time for Buck to cut himself open and pour his love and devotion for Eddie out at his feet. Not when Eddie is so fragile and Buck has a girlfriend.

Girlfriend.

He has to keep reminding himself of that, which is probably not a good sign about the vitality of their relationship. But now is not the time to think about that either. Right now he needs to focus on Eddie and making sure he’s okay. Hopefully convince him to get some sleep, because he looks like shit. Buck thinks there may be bags under the bags under his eyes.

“Right. You’re going to shower and then you’re going to sleep. Everything else can wait until the morning, okay?”

“And you’ll be here? In the morning?” Eddie’s voice sounds so small. Buck’s heart cracks at the sound of it.

“I told you,” Buck reaches across the table and squeeze his hands, “m’not going anywhere.”

No pressure tagging: @steadfastsaturnsrings @hippolotamus @wildlife4life @nmcggg @puppyboybuckley @wikiangela @watchyourbuck @rainbow-nerdss @exhuastedpigeon @elvensorceress @eddiebabygirldiaz @evanbegins @spotsandsocks @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @try-set-me-on-fire @tizniz @rewritetheending @athenagranted @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @monsterrae1 @malewifediaz @spagheddiediaz @devirnis @disasterbuckdiaz @fiona-fififi @giddyupbuck @fortheloveofbuddie @hoodie-buck @homerforsure @honestlydarkprincess @jeeyuns @jesuisici33 @bekkachaos @lover-of-mine @loserdiaz @ladydorian05 @captain-hen and anyone else I may have missed or who wants to share something!

[priincebutt]

🖤 for firstprince please and thank you 🤭🤭🤭🤭

🖤 kissing while crying / goodbye kiss / desperation -- send a heart get a snip

“They’re sending me to Earth.”

The words sit between Alex and Henry, heavy and present, like there’s another person at the table with them. Alex’s mind tries to catch up with what Henry’s just said, but his expression is one of pure bewilderment. He reaches for Henry before remembering the guard monitoring their meeting, and thinks better of it. Last time he’d tried to touch his boyfriend he’d been physically escorted out and given a warning: if he did it again, he wouldn’t be able to continue visiting.

“I’m sorry, what?” Alex asks, his voice thick with the confusion that forms his brow into a little v of worry. He leans forward and clasps his hands in his lap, determined to keep his cool. “Earth is uninhabitable. That’s what they’ve always told us. They can’t just… Just because you’re a prisoner doesn’t mean you deserve to be sent to die!”

His last word rings out and Henry flinches away from it. The guard shoots Alex a furtive look but goes back to reading on his tablet, probably the latest news ping that held the report on the oxygen levels lowering, on how they’re running out of time and if the station can’t figure something out soon, there won’t be any hope. A whole civilization, snuffed out in space, another dying star in their own right.

“Research shows that after 100 years the Earth’s atmosphere should have corrected itself. They’re hoping this is the answer to the… the crisis.” Henry swallows thickly and looks away, then finally meets Alex’s gaze again. “My dad discovered the oxygen crisis. He wanted to tell the whole ship and that’s why they floated him. Now everyone knows anyway, and they’re trying to remediate it by sending us down as the test dummies. See if we can survive, if all of the radioactivity and poison is gone from the air.” Henry’s words are brittle with anger. He’d been arrested for being in alliance with his father, helping him crunch the numbers and uncover the ugly underbelly of secrets the Chancellor had been keeping from everyone. Henry’s father, an adult, was immediately killed, sent into space with no gear or oxygen to become a part of the universe again. Henry, being under 18 and still a child in the law’s eyes, became a prisoner to be re-evaluated on his 18th birthday.

It’s only days away, and he won’t even be on this ship to see it. He’ll spend his eighteenth birthday on Earth. And while he’s terrified to leave Alex and his mother and family behind, the thought of this new adventure… well. It kind of thrills him.

“Henry, you can’t go. What am I going to do? You’re going to die down there and I’m just going to have to sit here and live with that? You can’t go.”

“I don’t really have a choice, Alex,” Henry points out calmly. He understands why Alex is upset, but there’s nothing they can do now. The deed has been done. He’s going to Earth.

The guard stands from his chair and looks down at his watch. “Time’s up, you two. Out you go, Claremont-Diaz.” “Just like, five more minutes? Please?” Alex asks hopefully, and finally his hand reaches for Henry’s. When their fingers interlock he squeezes, and Henry feels tears prick at his eyes. He feels guilt for excitement for the upcoming journey to Earth, and a deep sadness over what he’s leaving behind. This has all happened so suddenly, they’d only told him he was going this morning.

“Sorry, no can do. You’re lucky your Ma is who she is and you even get to be here,” he points out. Most prisoners aren’t given any kind of visitation rights, but since Henry’s dad was one of the top scientists who kept this whole space ship up and running, and Alex’s mom’s position as a higher up in their shoddy government system, they’d gotten around it.

Henry can see the panic flickering across Alex’s face, and he squeezes his hand again, pulling Alex’s attention back to him. “Hey. Hey, Alex? It’s going to be ok. Look at me.” Alex’s dark eyes meet Henry’s, and Henry’s free hand comes to rest on his stubbled cheek. Alex’s chest rises and falls on his heavy breathing, and Henry knows he’s on the verge of a panic attack by how far off his gaze is. “It’s all going to be ok,” Henry says with a weak smile.

“Stay alive. Wait for me. I’ll be on the first ship out of this hell hole,” Alex mumbles softly. He lets out a sigh and presses their foreheads together, and the guard starts to say something, but Alex ignores him. If this is the last time he’s going to see Henry, he’s going to make it worth it.

The tears that welled in Henry’s eyes fall as Alex presses their lips together. It’s been months since he’s been kissed, and Henry melts into Alex, lets himself forget that this is maybe (probably) the last time they’ll touch like this. His fingers tangle in Alex’s hair as Alex’s hand rests on his waist, and for a moment they just exist, just the two of them, with nothing to split them apart.

But then Henry’s being wrenched back by his shoulder, and he curses as the guard fastens restraints around his wrists and forcefully pushes him back towards his cell.

“Wait for me!” Alex calls as another guard escorts him out. Henry loathes the desperation, the wetness on his face, this whole situation. It’s all shit. And now he’s got to go to Earth and fucking survive for Alex. He just has to make it long enough for them to be together again.

[defectivehero]

unrelenting

warnings: self-harm, attempted amputation, gore, kidnapping/captivity

Please heed the warnings!!!

The hero has been trapped in this bleak cell for months. They haven't been able to keep a true sense of time, but they've placed weak scratches into the wall each time they've woken. The scratches now cover the corner of the room. Perhaps it's even been years. They can't be sure.

All the hero knows is that they have a weapon, a means of escape. They found it while in a fit of frustration. They had angrily ripped at the thin, rigid mattress on the wire bed frame. And under the mattress, in the very center of the frame, was a dull knife.

The hero spends what they can only assume to be days sharpening it to a fine point. As they devote more attention to restoring the weapon, they realize it isn't just a regular knife—it's a Liston knife. The same kind of knife used by Robert Liston in his surgical amputations in the 18th century.

They've tried fruitlessly to cut through the chain around their ankle—the one keeping them tethered to this room. They've had no luck in that regard. As the hero stares down at the knife, they begin to realize that there's perhaps something... else... they can cut through.

After all, the Liston knife was designed for amputations. If the hero cut their foot off at the ankle, they would be free from their bonds and could escape. It's not a pleasant idea. But the hero feels as if they have no other choice. They've been trapped here for an immeasurable amount of time. No one has bothered to rescue them. They could very well be confined here for the rest of their life. If this sacrifice is what it takes for them to acquire freedom, well...

The hero takes a shuddering breath in, before sitting down on the ground with their back to the cell's iron bars. They take their shoe and sock off, before tugging experimentally at the chain. Indeed, it is expertly tightened to prevent them from escaping. There's no tangible keyhole on the cuff, and the knife hadn't managed to even dent the steel.

Their heart is racing as they trace the knife along the skin of their upper ankle, just barely grazing the top of the cuff. The hero pulls at the collar of their shirt and places it in their mouth. For a long moment, their hand shakes as the knife rests against their skin. It's horribly cold, sending goosebumps prickling along their arms.

Somehow, they manage to begin the incision. It hurts—more than the hero could have possibly fathomed. At some point, they begin to scream. Yet they can't stop themselves from pushing the knife in further, deeper. They need to escape. They can't stay here forever. They need to escape. They need to-

There's a harsh grip on their wrist, forcing the knife out of their grasp. The weapon clatters to the floor. The hero's blood-slicked hands are trembling as they look up into the eyes of their captor, the villain. The villain looks enraged—a stark contrast to the unfeeling mask they always seem to wear. There is no trace of that cruelty in the expression the villain has on their face.

"What the fuck are you doing?" They spit.

The hero can't find the words to answer. They can't seem to focus on anything except for the strangely warm, slippery feeling of their own blood coating their hands. The villain is still lurking, looming, towering over them. The hero waits to be shoved to the ground, waits for the villain to punch them into unconsciousness.

The blows never come. Instead, the villain shakes their head and walks away with the knife in hand. When they return moments later—in what feels like the blink of an eye to the hero—they have medical supplies in hand. The villain then crouches down until they're sitting on the floor with the hero.

"I knew you had it," they remark, tearing the hero from their frantic thoughts. The hero stares at them. "The knife." They nod at the corner of the ceiling, to a strange glint that must be the lens of a security camera. The hero's stomach turns. They hadn't realized. All this time... the villain was watching. They feel sick, all of a sudden. "I thought, 'Why the hell not?' I figured you'd try to stab me with it. I wouldn't let you, of course." The villain continues. The hero tries to bend their knee, move away from their enemy, but the villain quickly stops them with a hand on their knee.

"But this," they break off, seemingly entirely lost for words. "What the hell were you thinking? You've been acting weirdly lately, I should've fucking known you'd pull something like this." The villain shakes their head and then, to the hero's complete surprise, grabs the cloth and begins exerting pressure. For a while, there is nothing but quiet as their leg continues to bleed.

"Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?" The villain hisses, beginning to bandage their ankle once the bleeding is more manageable. Their hands are surprisingly warm, a welcome change from the chill of the cement floor. "You could've easily contracted an infection and died... You're damn lucky you didn't lose your leg." The villain punctuates their last statement by finishing their bandaging. For a moment, the hero swears their touch lingers, but they put it down to their pain-addled mind.

"I'll be back soon enough," the villain declares as they get to their feet. They look over at the security camera, before staring at the hero once more. "Don't take those off." They order, their gaze briefly flitting to the bandages around the hero's ankle.

With that closing remark, the villain is gone. The hero is left to their own confusion and dismay, as they come to terms with the unshakeable fact that their enemy just patched them up. They're beginning to realize something: the longer they spend with the villain, the less the hero understands them. Their enemy is like a mirage—get close enough and they simply... fade. The villain is entirely contradictory at worst and utterly perplexing at best. The hero brings a hand down to the edge of their carefully-placed bandages, feeling a shiver roll down their spine.

They're not sure what they're supposed to do anymore. Should they try to escape? Should they accept their fate? And what of their enemy? Does the villain truly care about their wellbeing? Surely not. But what can explain the bandages, the furrow to their brows as they took in the scene before them? Is there a reasonable explanation for the minute flicker of their emotionless mask, the brief slip where the hero could see concern drawing their lips tight into a frown?

The hero inhales slowly. Their weapon was confiscated by the villain. Their enemy's previous admission is sticking in their mind. I knew you had it. The hero underestimated the villain's desire for entertainment. Then again, if they sought entertainment... what could be more entertaining than the hero bleeding out in their cell, from a wound of their own infliction?

The hero feels painfully aware of every minute movement they make, knowing that the villain is watching from somewhere. Yet they find their gaze drifting to the security camera anyway, almost daring for the villain to explain themselves. Unsurprisingly, the hero receives no elaboration. Taking a deep breath, they let their head fall back to the wall behind them as they close their eyes.

©2024, @defectivehero | @defectivevillain All Rights Reserved.

here's the inspo for this. it was first just a quick thing I was gonna post:

just thinking about the hero, kidnapped by the villain, chained up and left to rot in a cell. thinking about the hero somehow acquiring a weapon—maybe they filched it from the villain when they weren't looking, maybe they came in with it, maybe it was hidden in the wall—and attempting to cut their chains. they can hardly make a scratch on the chains, so they pivot to something else: their own limbs. thinking about the villain bursting in, seeing them hurt themselves to escape... thinking about the aftermath, the tense silence in the air as the villain carefully bandages the hero's wounds... thinking about the confusion, frustration, shame, guilt, rage, and vengeance all fighting for prominence in the hero's mind...

I love the idea of the villain just being so utterly contradictory and confusing to the hero. one moment, they're playful, flirty, almost caring... the next, they're cruel, vindictive, and spiteful. I equally love the idea of the villain just leaving the hero to their confusion. Sometimes, this would be an avenue for a writer to have the villain say something like "only I can kill you," but that feels both overplayed and also not as significant? I ended up keeping the villain's mystery, because it's fun to try to puzzle out their motivations.

not tagging the taglist for this one, just because it has some topics that can be pretty triggering.

[wikiangela]

wip wednesday

tagged by @steadfastsaturnsrings @theotherbuckley @tizniz @diazsdimples @buddieswhvre @disasterbuckdiaz @dangerpronebuddie 💖💖💖

more of the cheating fic bc I said this is my main focus rn and it is haha (I might have something different for friday tho 🙈) I hope I'll finish this scene before I post all of it in snippets lol the convo just keeps going and going istg haha

prev snippet

___

 “What are you doing here so early? After last night, I thought you two would be dead to the world the whole day.” she teases, then goes to get a cup of coffee.

“Hey, Karen.” Buck responds quietly, not answering the question. Hen does it for him.

“Buck’s having a crisis. He slept with Eddie.” Hen says, and Karen turns towards them, eyes wide, but then the surprise turns into a smile.

“Well, finally.” she chuckles, reaching into the cupboard for a mug. “I thought it’d take them decades to figure it out.” she pauses, then frowns, turning towards Buck again. And he chooses to ignore that comment, because what the hell did she even mean? “Wait, what happened with you and Taylor? When did you guys break up? Did I miss some 118 gossip?” she asks, shooting her wife a questioning look.

“No, you didn’t, they’re still together..” Hen responds, scrutinizing gaze not leaving Buck. “He cheated on her.”

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @housewifebuck @watchyourbuck @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @puppyboybuckley @weewootruck @loveyouanyway @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @hoodie-buck @nmcggg @rogerzsteven @hippolotamus @giddyupbuck @sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @underwater-ninja-13 @exhuastedpigeon @fortheloveofbuddie @911-on-abc @daffi-990 @jesuisici33

[gothsuguru]

first draft of “premonition of love” has officially begun <3