#s7 fic

[redwinterroses]

I know a lot of times we work out the "everyone has to start from scratch at the beginning of the season" in fic with like, "you can't take anything from the old world with you/only a few special things in your ender chest" etc... But I also love the idea of hermits with just... old stuff. Grian wearing an old Mumbo For Mayor shirt that's a little sweatstained and faded while he's doing the grunt work of sorting all his stuff into the new storage building. Cub flipping through albums of polaroids of all his old bases. Beef hanging framed album covers on the walls of his base. Pearl sifting through a little trinket box that hold things like "a rock from that hole where Gem and I first spawned in" and a miniature jackolantern that still glimmers a little bit, even if the enchantment is flaking off in places. Tango's bunny slippers getting worn out holes in the heels and he just patches them because they're too cozy to get rid of. Impulse still probably has a box of test candy bars laying around somewhere and every time he finds them again he makes note to get rid of them because there's no way they're still any good but he always forgets.

Just. Old stuff.

[thatbuddie]

*apollo red ball gift of prophecy christmas elf etc etc*

[killjoy-prince]

House M.D. but it's when Wilson says House's name

[watchyourbuck]

The thing about Tommy is that he’s very pretty. Everything about him is intoxicatingly attractive, and no matter where they go, people follow. Men, particularly.

Buck isn’t necessarily the jealous type. He’s had his fair share of protecting ex girlfriends from creeps and dudes who won’t back off, but this is different. This feels like a constant, extremely symptomatic migraine.

Of course girls throw themselves at him, but the mere fact that they have no chance makes it less angering. It’s the studs, and the twinks, and the huge men who put their hands on his man. That cup his ass almost as a greeting gesture. That play with his hair, and whisper in his ear.

And Tommy isn’t stupid. He knows he’s being flirted with, but since he could never have eyes for anyone who isn’t Buck, he doesn’t see the need to be rude. So he keeps it at ‘No, thank you’’s, and polite, refusing smiles. And yes, that’s yet another one of the qualities Buck loves about him. Because he doesn’t like violence. But then again, it fires up the unwavering possessiveness brewing in the pit of his stomach.

So Buck’s gotten creative. Now that they’re officially a couple, and go out on dates every weekend — to different places, if he might add —, he’s had to get handy with the way he lets people know Tommy’s his.

He orders with him at the bar, makes sure to say ‘my boyfriend’ and strategically places his hands on parts of Tommy’s body that would get him punched if they weren’t together. It works, for the most part.

But there’s always that one guy who can’t take a hint.

“You’re like a Greek god,” he whispers and Buck rolls his eyes. “Greek gods shouldn’t be alone.”

It’s a twenty-something year old dude that looks like he’s missing a college class. He’s wearing a tank top and eyeliner and he’s about a second away from earning himself all of Buck’s un-contained rage.

“I’m not alone,” Tommy says, pointing at him, and god bless his heart. “This is my partner.”

Buck bends forward a bit to wave enthusiastically, but it comes out bitchy. He’s almost sorry but then the guy barely acknowledges him, putting his hand on Tommy’s shoulder and rubbing circles on the exposed skin. Tommy’s hand tightens on his hip, keeping him still.

“You know, I’m very flexible,” the guy says and Buck is currently making a deal with god to grant him patience. “I could show you just how much.”

“Oh, you’re not showing him anything,” Buck barks, right from over Tommy’s head. If he has to get on his tippy toes to do that, well, the other guy doesn’t have to know.

“Evan,” Tommy warns, but it’s endearing, it carries no threat. He turns his head to the kid and tilts it. “You should find a guy who’s interested. I’m not.”

Buck absolutely preens, a cocky smirk settling on his face. He’s about to claim victory when he notices the guy’s demeanor doesn’t change, and he actually steps closer. “That’s because you don’t know what you’re missing, daddy.”

Nope. A surge of something primal and almost maniac courses through his body, and before Tommy can do anything about it, Buck’s rounding him and taking the guy’s wrist and squeezing it. He’s shorter than Tommy but significantly bigger than this kid, so he towers over him easily. “Take your hands off him if you want to keep them.”

The kid’s face contorts in fear. “What’s your problem, dude!”

Buck laughs, his only point of connection to reality being Tommy’s hand on his belt loops, holding him in place. “My problem,” he says, his voice deeper, “is that you can’t seem to take no for an answer. He’s told you he’s not alone. So, back off before I make you.”

His eyes shift from Buck’s to Tommy’s, who Buck can only guess has a soft but unreadable expression on his face. When the kid isn’t defended by Tommy, he snags his hand back, scoffs and takes off.

Buck watches him until he loses him to the crowd, then lets out a big breath, closing his eyes momentarily. He turns to Tommy, expecting to find judgy or at least annoyed eyes. He doesn’t.

“Not that I wanna encourage you,” Tommy says, sitting on a stool to pull Buck closer, right between his legs. “But that was really hot.”

Buck huffs out a laugh but it’s vaguely one. “I’m just— he wouldn’t stop touching you. You’re, ugh, you’re—!”

Tommy tilts his head, chasing after Buck’s gaze when he looks to the side. “You can say it.”

Buck bites his lip and stares. How could he not, after all. “You’re mine,” de declares, definitive and on the verge of angry. “And I don’t like men touching what’s mine.”

And he knows. There’s a fine line between sexy possessive and psychopathically controlling, and he’s walking it like a rope between two buildings, but the look on Tommy’s face and the unmistakable sight of the front of his pants growing tighter doesn’t help him get off the high horse. “We can always make a scene,” Tommy shrugs, getting up again and cornering Buck against the bar.

Buck’s eyes darken, even through the pain on his tailbone. His arms surge forward to wrap around Tommy’s neck and bring him down. And if they do make a scene, if they do make out messily and desperately for everyone to see, then it’s truly not his problem what they think. As long as they know who Tommy belongs to.

[russell-crowe]

house and wilson seeing each other for the first time in months in s08e02

[eddiebabygirldiaz]

i'm here with the door wide open | buddie | rated teen and up | 24k | read on ao3

Eddie eats and showers and puts on clothes. He goes to work, does his job, acts as fine as he can around his friends, attends therapy twice a week, and goes back home.

Day after day after day.

And it’s so fucking quiet.

or, eddie copes with the absence of chris but also the presence of buck

read on ao3

[lonelychicago]

hi so i watched this sneak peek and then i blinked and next thing i know ive written this thing.... i might use it for a s7 fic or i might not. so.... yeah, enjoy ig.

"You've been acting weird all week, Buck. What is it? Talk to me."

"It's like that thing when you meet somebody and you just click." Buck repeats the words that have been haunting him for weeks. He lets the bitterness and fear that have been choking him, suffocating him, slip off his lips.

He is not fine. It's the thing.

He could usually go over to Eddie’s house and let himself in whenever he wanted. He could— spend all of his free time with the guy and with Chris and feel like he's at home.

And sometimes they still do that.

Except Tommy is there most of the time, too. If it's not a night at the bar after a long shift where they want to unwind and Tommy just enters, confident and smiley and so unbothered by anything, it's Tommy inviting them to a fight or a game or whatever.

And Buck likes the guy. Hell, he has fucked the guy himself.

It's just—

He misses Eddie. He misses Eddie when he is right there in front of him, and it hurts. It hurts in a way Buck hasn't felt in a long time.

"Buck, what the hell are you talking about?" A slight crease forms in between Eddie's brows. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"It's what you told me, when we were talking about Tommy."

"So? Now I can't have any more friends?" Eddie raises his eyebrows, and Buck knows he's sounding... insane, needy, clingy. All of the above whatever.

"You can. I just—" Buck lets out a slow breath. "I hate change, okay? And I hate—"

"Nothing has changed."

"Eddie, everything has changed." Buck lets out a startled, sharp and bitter laugh. It sounds hollow and wrong, even to his own ears.

It stings. Like taking a sip of tea so hot it burns the roof of your mouth or like digging your finger against a tender bruise that hasn't quite healed yet.

"Everything has changed," Buck whispers, looking helplessly into Eddie’s eyes. Because unlike before, now he knows that the jealousy he feels, the unreasonable possessiveness he feels... it's because he is in love.

He is in love with Eddie Diaz.

[makorragal-312]

I can see it now...

Now that Chris is gone and his relationships with Marisol and Kim are over, Eddie is struggling to keep himself together and decides to stop dating while also trying to figure himself out after everything that happened.

All the while, Buck constantly checks in on him to make sure he's alright and even goes as far as to stay over at his place so that he doesn't wake up by himself. And now that Gerrard is captain and is making their shifts miserable, that becomes a common occurrence. And around the same time, Buck and Tommy are going through a rough patch because of him cancelling plans to check on Eddie and how Tommy wants Buck to act around Gerrard, which ultimately leads to them breaking up.

Then down the line, Eddie and Buck start to become closer than ever and Eddie comes to the conclusion that his relationships never worked out because he was trying to make a family with the wrong person when the whole time, he already had a family with the right person, which was Buck. At the same time, Buck starts to catch feelings for Eddie but is afraid to act on them partly out of fear and mainly because he doesn't want to take advantage of him when he's still missing Chris.

But eventually, Eddie just goes "fuck it" and finally kisses Buck, who has no qualms about kissing him back...

...and then, Chris walks through the door.

[honestlydarkprincess]

whenever you're ready

buck & bobby || rated: g || wc: 792 || read on ao3

Buck had been kind of expecting it when Bobby pulled him aside one day after shift and gently asked to speak with him.

He knew he was acting weird around the station, that he was jittery and flighty but he couldn’t help it. So far he had only told Maddie that he was bisexual and it was sitting on the tip of his tongue anytime he was around the others. He desperately wanted to tell them but he didn’t want to just blurt it out over breakfast, he wanted to tell them all individually. Buck wasn’t exactly sure why he wanted to do it like that, surely ripping off the bandaid and telling everyone at once would be easier but he felt vulnerable sharing this part of him and he wanted to do it how it felt right to him.

He felt anxious as Bobby closed the door behind them, leaving them alone in the captain’s office.

“Talk to me, Buck,” Bobby said gently, gesturing for him to have a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk. “You’ve been jumpy for a couple days now. Is something going on, kid?”

“I— I haven’t been jumpy,” He tried, swallowing roughly when Bobby just gave him a look.

Bobby surprised him by sitting down on the chair next to him, Buck had been expecting him to sit at his desk. “I know something is going on, Buck. You don’t have to talk about it, I can’t make you, but I just want you to know that I’m here for you, no matter what it is, okay?”

Buck felt his throat go tight as tears burned at his eyes, taking him by surprise. The earnest support in Bobby’s expression made him crumble. “I— I realized something about myself the other day.”

“Okay,” Bobby said, encouraging him to continue with a nod of his head.

“I’m bisexual,” Buck said quickly, getting the words out as fast as possible.

Bobby was quiet for a moment, digesting Buck’s words and making Buck sweat. But then he was cracking a wide smile and saying, “Thank you for telling me, kid. I’m so proud of you.”

Buck felt all the tension melt away. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Bobby nodded. He stood up and held out his arms, unsurprised when Buck shot up and collapsed against him. Bobby tucked Buck against his chest and hugged him tightly.

“You’re sure you’re okay with it?” Buck asked. He knew that Bobby had never been anything but accepting with Hen but there was still that kernel of anxiety that sat in his chest, weighing him down.

“Of course, Buck,” Bobby reassured him. “You love who you love and that’s that. I’m glad that you’ve figured this out.”

“Me too,” Buck said, pulling away from the hug. “I feel…free in a way that I’ve never felt before,” He admitted shyly.

“Well, it’s a pretty big thing to discover so that makes sense,” Bobby said, putting his hand on Buck’s shoulder and squeezing. “So that’s why you’ve been so jumpy?”

“Yeah,” Buck looked down at his hands. “I want to tell everyone I’m just…nervous.”

“You know they’ll give you nothing but support, right?”

“I know,” Buck nodded. “I just…it’s hard to find the words, I guess. I’ve told Maddie and now you, I guess I should tell the rest of them, huh?”

“Who you tell, and when, is up to you, son. We’re your family, we’ll be here when you’re ready,” Bobby said quietly.

“Yeah, that’s what Maddie said,” Buck gave him a small smile. “I think I’m almost ready.”

“You don’t have to rush, you can let it happen when it happens,” Bobby advised. “Whatever it is you choose, just make sure it’s what’s best for you.”

Buck swallowed roughly, his throat going tight again as emotion rushed through him. He’d known Bobby would be supportive but he hadn’t expected how it would affect him, to have the man he saw as a father figure accept him with total ease, not even an ounce of hesitation. “Thank you, Bobby,” Buck said sincerely. “You have no idea what this means to me.”

Bobby just hugged him again and Buck let a breath, hugging back just as tightly. When they separated Bobby cleared his throat. “Now, go on. You must have somewhere to be on a Friday night.”

“Actually,” Buck ducked his head. “Our date is tomorrow.”

“Good for you, kid,” Bobby smiled. “You have fun and stay safe.”

“You got it, Cap,” Buck saluted, grinning as he walked to the door and let himself out of the office. He walked out of the station smiling and whistling to himself, feeling so light and carefree.

Two down, a few more to go.

[iinryer]

—still the only thing, everything—

[buck/eddie || 10.6k || post-lightning]

It should scare him, Buck thinks. Probably.

With the infrequency of it here, less opportunities to get used to it again. It should.

But another flash of bright cold light demands attention outside his windowed wall, the bass-y roll of thunder rumbling and echoing through the loft, skittering over him like waves…

And all Buck can think about is how much it doesn’t.

It doesn’t scare him.

—

the next time it storms in la, buck thinks about fear, grief, and lightning. eddie drops by.

[read it on ao3]

[ao3feed-scissorseven]

by Bluflumio

Words: 11118, Chapters: 8/8, Language: 中文-普通话 國語

Fandoms: 刺客伍六七 | Killer Seven | Scissor Seven (Cartoon)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: Gen

Characters: 柒, 青凤, 首领, 刺客组织

Relationships: 无cp - Relationship

Additional Tags: 搞笑, 同人

[gibuckaroo]

Buck has never been picked last in any group games he was ever part of.

Of course, he hasn’t. Buck goes above and beyond to please his peers, he makes himself big enough he doesn’t go unnoticed, he tries hard to make his name known, and he picks up every little thing to make people know he’s there and he listens and he’d be good to have on their team.

He may not always be the first choice, and that’s a cross that he has to bear—no one likes anybody who tries too hard, anyway. But it also means at some point, somebody will choose him because it’s better to be the one doing something, than nothing at all.

So, he had surface level relationships with the people at school. At home he’s always been invisible and he has learned to accept that—it’ll always be his reality with his parents no matter how hard he tries, doesn’t matter if he empties himself, doesn’t matter if he scrubs his skin dry, doesn’t matter if he tries.

When he met the 118, somehow, he kept being chosen. Even if it was in the more idiotic situations—he was being chosen. First, even, at times. They even made him feel that he didn’t need to try that hard anymore.

Then came Eddie.

And Christopher.

And for them, Buck didn’t even need to try at all.

Doesn’t mean he stopped, but he felt like he didn’t need to anymore. For the first time, he felt how warmth spread around his chest at the conscious decision of being chosen time and time again. It can be a hang out with Eddie, or being at the zoo with Chris, or asking to bake a dozen cupcakes, or just being there to taste whatever Eddie was trying in the kitchen.

He was the first.

He was the only one.

He was their emergency contact, their one call away friend, their runner, their best friend. Both of them. Especially Eddie.

Eddie who keeps his heart on his sleeve, who has walls around him that Buck has moved and pushed to the side with him, who took his time to show Buck every skeleton he has kept in his closet, who has peeled away layers of himself to show Buck.

It took years, and he has tried, and it is worth it.

Eddie chose him. Eddie chooses him. Buck feels chosen. Eddie finds him irreplaceable. Eddie finds him important. Buck rejoices.

This is how it feels like, he thinks, to be the first pick.

But then Eddie is leaning on another person, laugh ringing throughout the fire house, smile crinkling at his eyes and hasn’t it taken him a while to get that out of him?

And suddenly Eddie is saying no, and Eddie is saying wait, and Eddie is saying maybe.

Eddie has never been reluctant with him. Not for a long while.

And he remembers the first steps Eddie took here, in his house, in his home, how sure he was, how comfortable to cement his place in the heart of who Buck was? How he abhorred it, how he welcomed it just as fast.

He looks at Tommy now beside Eddie and how he abhors it. How he took his first steps—sure and comfortable and confident in Buck’s house, Buck’s home, in the heart of who he has in Eddie?

He takes notes of the similarities, of the easy banter that flows, of the stories they exchange, of how they fit so seamlessly without trying.

Buck tried for Eddie, and it worked. But he tried and worked, and it seems like Tommy doesn’t need to, seems like Eddie has welcomed him in spaces Buck tried so long to see without even asking.

And for a very long time; Buck feels like that elementary kid again waiting to be picked at dodgeball, knowing how hard he worked at PE so the other kids noticed how good he was, and only being chosen on the fifth call.

And he feels something wedge itself in the crevices of his chest, sharp and wicked and painful. He can feel it drip its slimy thorns in his flesh, poking and pushing him to snap, to explode.

If Eddie was to open him, he’d find his lungs green and beating his name. If Eddie was to open him, his ribcage would cradle him in, would house his body under Buck’s skin—he’s afraid he won’t let him out again. He’s afraid Eddie might let him go.

He’s afraid Eddie might not be choosing him this time.

People flee Buck.

People see how much he tries, and they don’t like anybody who tries that hard, anyway. It was only a matter of time. He should have known it was inevitable.

But he had hoped Eddie was different.

He hoped he was different to Eddie.

He thought that Eddie has carved a space for him right beside him, only meant for the shape of his head and the curve of his arms and the weight of his back. He thought Eddie has made him a room in his home, in his mind, in his heart.

He thought that was his space alone.

But there seems to be a new occupant, and it’s eating Buck alive.

[jelzorz]

191.

Opeli has never been to the Banther Lodge.

She has never had a reason to. Typically, it's used as a retreat for the royal family during the winter festivities, although once, one of Ezran's distant relatives had lent it to the city orphanage to use while their own building was being rebuilt after a fire. It's large for a cabin, obviously supposed to be rustic without losing its air of luxury, and without the castle...

Well. It's better than camping in the temples, that's for sure. It's too far away from the city to use as a permanent base, but it will have to do until other arrangements can be made. Tents have sprung up on the grounds to house both soldiers and refugees, and although it's crowded and busy, Opeli likes it.

It's a quiet place, nestled in the heart of the woods, away from the hustle and bustle of the city with enough space to breathe, to think, to simply be without all the trappings of court life. All things considered, it's a lovely reprieve, and she wonders if, one day, she might be able to come out here and enjoy it for what it is. There's just... one thing about this current arrangement that sets her on edge.

The kingslayer sharpens his blades.

Opeli's fingers twitch.

It has not been an easy few weeks. The attack on the castle was grave indeed, and although Ezran and Corvus had returned with Queen Aanya's troops and Queen Janai's to provide aid and assistance, the loss of their home still rings painfully through camp. Prince Callum and Rayla had returned shortly afterwards as well, and Opeli had been pleased to see them, her unofficial wards home and safe, until Rayla had ushered forward someone new—or someone not so new, and all hell had broken loose among their friends.

For what little it's worth, Ezran had managed it well. His pain was most obvious in his eyes and in the crack of his voice, and he'd been composed as he dealt with it but hasn't spoken to Callum in days. He holds his anger tight, keeps it all buried under the mountains of things they have to do, blue eyes filled with cold that he doesn't let leech into his words, but he avoids the issue entirely and spends almost all his free time with Queen Aanya or Corvus, people he can't be angry with, people to distract him from kinglsaying banther in the room.

Opeli has been less mature about it, if that can be believed. She had Rayla arrested once for breaking into the chambers beneath the castle to steal the kingslayer's bow, but Callum has made it clear that he will not stand for that, so instead Opeli funnels her frustration into sharp words and biting remarks, which she does not temper, even for Callum.

The air is tense. Their council is fractured. But if Ezran won't let himself be angry, the Justice help her, Opeli will be angry in his place.

It's dinnertime. Everyone is pulling double duty because the circumstances demand it, and Opeli is helping Barius dole out the food tonight to give the other staff a bit of a break. She passes bowls of stew to Ezran, to Corvus, to Soren, to Queen Aanya, her lips tilted in an appreciative smile as they thank her, and then slams bowls wordlessly down before Callum and Rayla and the other elf who only shifts uncomfortably in his seat as the stew sloshes over the rim.

"Enjoy your dinner," she snaps, and Callum, because he's Callum, snarls and snaps back.

"What the hell is your problem, Opeli?" he demands. "You've been passive aggressive about everything for days. This isn't okay anymore."

Opeli bristles at him. "And I suppose it's okay to have a murderer at the table instead."

"He was imprisoned in a magical coin for years, he's been punished enough—"

"Has he?" Opeli sneers. "Historically, kingslayers are hanged."

"You need to back the hell off—"

"That's enough!"

Silence falls over them, and things are dire indeed because it comes from Soren. He glared at Callum and Rayla, the elf with them shrinking beneath it, but it's Opeli that he turns to, that he offers his hand to, that he ushers away from the table leaving Callum, Rayla, and the elf alone and in silence in the dining hall.

Opeli waits until they are out of earshot before she rounds on Soren too. "You're not defending that murderer now, surely."

"No," mutters Soren darkly, "but Callum's right. You need to back off."

She scowls, affronted. "That elf shouldn't even be here," she snaps. "He murdered King Harrow, and would have murdered King Ezran too, if Rayla hadn't stood in his way. And they have the nerve to bring him here, our last stronghold, at a time like this?"

"I know," says Soren, grimacing. "I agree with you. But haven't we lost enough?"

"All the more reason he shouldn't be here."

Soren sighs. "He's Rayla's dad, Opeli. You have to let her have this."

"I certainly don't," says Opeli loftily. "Why on earth should he be allowed to walk free after the things he's done?"

"Because Rayla needs him," says Soren, "and not all of us are lucky enough to have a dad we can forgive."

A pause. A breath. A beat so heavy that Opeli feels it slam the air out of her chest. Soren looks away and swallows, his own conflict painfully clear in the way that he blinks and breathes and clenches his jaw.

She relents.

"I'll leave them be," she mutters at last. "But he can't be here long."

"He won't be," agrees Soren. "But just for now. Okay?"

"Yes." Opeli takes a breath and touches his arm, a promise to make an effort, for him more than for anyone else. "Just for now."

[killjoy-prince]

House M.D. but it's when House says Wilson's name

[watchyourbuck]

Went on a date on friday and dissected the whole bucktommy kiss and this man listened, gave commentary and congratulated the community so now im going on a second date