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wrecking-man · 5 months

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Starks;Gate Chapter 1 - Fullmetal & Alchemist

Click here to read on AO3.

One September day, on the second floor of the Brawn Workshop.

The Brawn Workshop was a traditional blacksmith shop in the Kingdom of Marvel, on the continent of Omorika... It specialized in, of all things, extremely heavy weapons and armor.

Armor several centimeters thick... Swords too big, too thick, too heavy, and too rough—you get the idea...

In contrast, the second floor was catered to anything but...

It was a sanctuary for intellectuals! The world’s greatest minds were gathered together there!

...Or so the man renting the place would like to believe.

It was known as the Future Artifact Laboratorium.

The air was hot and heavy in this makeshift lab in an apartment room, though the forge on the floor below had long been extinguished in anticipation of this meeting of the minds.

The atmosphere was tense as two young men sat hunched over a small, rectangular wooden table...

One was sitting on a cheap green sofa, clad in form-fitting red and gold armor... On the seat next to him was a plushie that vaguely resembled a panda with short, stubby legs.

The other was sitting on a metal folding chair on the opposing side, wearing a much more casual outfit... and on top of that, a white lab coat.

There were two clear glass bottles on the floor nearby, corked shut. One of them was empty, while the other was nearly so. Inside was once a carbonated beverage by the name of Doktor Pepper—or Dk Pepper for short.

The man in iron* delicately slid a card forward on the table with the tip of his forefinger, then overturned a small hourglass that had been sitting on the edge of the table.

“You seem nervous.”

It was a plain statement of fact. The gentleman before him was sweating bullets—uncontrollably so.

The younger man forced out a stifled laugh.

He had short black hair that he kept swept back. In a word, he was lanky... For the uninitiated, this man’s name was Okabe Rintaro.

That was his legal name... his birth name... but he would always insist upon Hououin Kyouma as his true name... In full disclosure, in his past life, it was.

“I must admit, Your Majesty, that your visit has me a touch perplexed,” Okabe responded. “It can’t be that you chose me at random to play a game of RaiNet against...”

He had wondered why Makise Kurisu, his girlfriend (provisional basis), returned earlier that day with so many snacks and drinks as if they were having a party today... Now he understood.

Questions still remained, however.

Had somebody sent a d-mail...?

Though the PhoneWave (name subject to change) had been disassembled for scrap, he could not at all discount that possibility... A message from the future would easily cause the sort of confusing circumstances he had been thrust headlong into.

D-mail... It was short for ‘Dorian mail’, which in turn was short for ‘the mail of Dorian Gray’.

Its name was a reference to the famous novel ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’, since no one could perceive the changes resulting from a d-mail—save for Okabe, of course, due to an ability of his he dubbed ‘Reading Steiner’.

...There was a catch, however.

That ability of his only triggered at the time d-mails were originally sent... and even then, given the overwhelming nature of Attractor Fields, sometimes the changes were too subtle for even him to notice.

Attractor Fields, in simple terms, are like bundles of timelines... Or world lines, rather.

Think of them as cables that have been zip-tied together for convenience, or like individual threads of a rope tightly wound together.

Though only one world line is active at any given time, and there are an infinite number of variations between them, all world lines within the same Attractor Field heavily influence one another and drive the active world line towards an event they all share in common—that is known as Convergence.

It was easy for Okabe to lose track of his life whenever world lines happened to shift... whether by his doing or otherwise.

His ability had gaps... Literally...

While he retained memories from previously-active world lines he had personally experienced, he gained none at all from the new ones on his arrival... As a result, it was possible he would forget this meeting ever took place.

‘When’ was anyone’s guess. It depended on when the d-mail was sent.

If one was even sent.

It was a useful, but often frustrating ability. In some sense, you could also call it a disability... It was like being gaslit by the universe itself, except the universe does not lie.

...He tried not to think about it.

Getting back to the game, Okabe moved one of his own cards on the table two squares over, sideways, leaving it two squares shy of the one Tony Stark had just moved... Two line-boosted cards facing off—a sacrificial play if ever there was one.

With haste, he flipped the hourglass back over, because time was not on his side in this battle of wits.

“You know, this game is remarkably similar to one back in my old world,” Tony said, dodging Okabe’s comment. “It was called Ghosts.”

Taking the mention of ‘ghosts’ as an indirect and subtle threat somehow, Okabe’s anxiety flared up even more... Unknowingly, he began clenching his teeth. It took everything in him to not have a panic attack right on the spot.

His mind could not help but conjure up scenarios wherein the king had become his mortal enemy, through no fault of his own.

“Do you believe in ghosts?” Tony asked as he calmly made his next move, then flipped the hourglass over again.

Okabe stared at the grains of sand as they slowly fell. Was he being toyed with here? That surely had to be the case... He could feel a righteous anger swelling within his gut... Had he not already been put through enough?!

In his mind, Okabe had already shot up from his seat and thrown his metal folding chair back towards the wall in indignation.

He then flung Tony’s Super Limited Edition RaiNet AccessBattlers board off the table, off to their sides—cards and all—and demanded to know what the great King of Marvel, Iron Man, wanted from him... all while slamming his hands on the table—again, this was only in his mind...

In reality, he was far too timid of a man to do something like that. At least to someone of such high and noble status... Further dampening his hostilities was the fact that his opponent seemed all too prepared for physical conflict, casually sitting there on his sofa in fullmetal...

Alchemist and arcanist by trade, Okabe scarcely stood a chance against him if a fight were to break out between them... So if there was any possibility of appeasement, then that would no doubt be Okabe’s first choice. And if not, then running away was also an enticing option.

Okabe anxiously tapped his feet on the floor, trying to somehow ground himself back to reality. If only he were not alone in this time of tribulation, he could somehow puzzle out the answer to his quandary.

But he was alone—his adversary notwithstanding.

“How about time travel...?” Tony changed the question after receiving no answer, carefully gauging all of Okabe’s reactions. “With that, I think you must have some idea why I’m here...”

As its CEO, Tony was coming off the heels of a thorough purge of the research organization known as SORN (Society for Omorikans Researching Nature) after it had gone rogue, and had yet to discern whether the young man in front of him was friend or foe.

The leader of the Rounders, a man by the name of Tennouji Yugo—the man who happened to own this very building, as a matter of fact—had already vouched for Okabe during questioning, stating that he was ‘too damned honest for his own good.’

Tony had received similar testimony from another Rounder, one Kiryu Moeka, whom said that Okabe ‘is a little rude, and acts delusional sometimes, but he is a good person.’

The Rounders were an elite team of ruthless mercenaries under the employ of SORN, however. As such, they carried out all manner of tasks for them... up to and including assassinations, as Tony had found out first hand.

To his great fortune, Tony had been blessed by one of this world’s many gods to never forget anything. So on that ‘promised day where time intersected’, well...

Tony took SORN’s betrayal personally, as one might imagine. Dragons would be jealous of the fury wrought upon them on his revival in this new, Iota Attractor Field...

Considering the Rounders had already killed him once, Tony would be forgiven for having a suspicious mind regarding anything they had to say now.

In this moment, however, he could only see himself as the villain. Or, perhaps more accurately, he was a schoolyard bully... Okabe was seemingly on the verge of tears—his eyes were red, anyways...

Playing dumb here was never truly an option for Okabe. That had become painfully obvious.

He made his next move without really thinking it over. He was going to lose this game of RaiNet anyway... At this point, he simply did not want to see the sand in his half of the hourglass run out.

“Time travel is possible,” Okabe said gravely, “...but time must never be manipulated. Never.” He summoned up what little foolhardy courage he could and stared Tony down as he overturned the hourglass again.

His skin felt like it was on fire. He was no doubt the world’s greatest hypocrite for saying that... He knew full well he had no right to make such a declaration. Not after having desperately jumped from world line to world line countless times trying to find one in which both his girlfriend (provisional basis) and his hostage (childhood friend), Shiina Mayuri, remained alive...

But it was precisely because he knew the consequences of messing with the flow of time that he could say it.

Tony leaned into the sofa and rested his arms on its back, ignoring the fact that it was now his turn. He then crossed one leg flat over the other.

Okabe’s answer was not bad, in Tony’s view. It at least let Tony know that Okabe had little to no intention of abusing the power he so clearly held.

“Spoken like a man cursed with knowledge... and experience,” Tony said after some thought, “But are you sure about that? Only the Smiths deal in absolutes...”

Tony decided to defuse the situation. It had come to a low boil, which admittedly was his intention until now, but Okabe was not among the ranks of his enemies. That was the conclusion he’d just arrived at.

Okabe was speechless. Just what was this guy’s objective here? One minute he’s putting the screws to his head, and the next he’s offering an olive branch?

Not that he was complaining about the latter, mind you... but Okabe was so taken aback by the mood whiplash that he couldn’t hide the growing confusion on his face.

“A Spark Wars quote...? Really?” Okabe couldn’t help but point out the glaringly obvious.

“You a fan?” Tony asked while making his next RaiNet move. He did so without moving, and instead ‘used the force’... That is to say, he used telekinesis.

If there was one thing he loved about this world he was reincarnated into, it was that magic was far more accessible. He somewhat regretted never trying his hand at it back on Earth, because he probably could have given his ‘old friend’ Stephen a run for his money.

And what about Okabe?

Was he a fan?

As if Tony even needed to ask!

Okabe wanted to let out one of his unhinged, top-of-his-lungs laughs at the absurdity of it... If only he didn’t feel that his neck was still on the line, he might well have done.

...Because he fucking loved Spark Wars!

He closed his eyes and extended his arm out to the side, then flexed open his hand.

Something mounted up on the far wall by the window lightly vibrated until it finally came loose from its display rack. It then promptly shot into Okabe’s waiting hand in a fraction of a second, reminding Tony of another old friend of his.

Okabe snapped open his eyes, and with dramatic flare, he held the item aloft in front of him to reveal it to his waiting audience.

It was one of Okabe’s most prized possessions, as it had been integral in paving the way to Steins Gate.

Future Artifact No.6: Cyalume Saber!

It had five major components:

A standard reinforced glass tube, about 30cm long.

A solution of cyalume—in other words, a ‘potion of illumination’. (Do not drink!)

A sturdy-enough cylindrical hilt, fashioned from aluminum.

An interspatial storage ring at the tip.

Fake blood concealed within said storage ring to make mock battles more realistic!

It was the perfect prop to reenact all your favorite scenes from Spark Wars!

“Does this answer your question?” Okabe asked seriously, without breaking eye contact—and without so much as a hint of shame.

Under pressure, but adapting to this new development, Okabe quickly concocted a new plan.

It was a simple plan, really.

Simply put, he would humbly seize upon the lifeline Tony had graciously offered him... He would call this ‘Operation A New Hope’!

“...Oh, it’s my turn,” Okabe quickly mumbled to himself before hunching over and taking his turn.

Tony couldn’t help but smirk to himself behind his helmet, and exhale through his nose in amusement. He could see now what the two Rounders had meant.

“You got two...?”

...

Somewhat startled by the question, Okabe’s heart fluttered and chills shot down his spine. His eyes went wide as he slowly sat back upright, and he took a moment to fully process the question.

...He was touched by its implications.

If he had two... If only he had two... The two of them could, in theory, have had a Spark Wars duel... right then and there!

Argh...! That genuinely sounded like so much fun! Okabe found himself gritting his teeth again, just for a different reason this time...

Of course, the singular nature of the relic in his hand was not the only obstacle preventing such merriment from taking place.

There was one other crucial detail that could not be overlooked... The one he did have had immense sentimental value, and thus he could never risk breaking it...

He mentally kicked himself for never producing more. Doubly so given it could have appeased his overlord.

Okabe looked down in disappointment, and shook his head. “Alas, I have but one...”

“Shame,” Tony responded. It was a fun thought. “...So. Favorite character?”

“...Duke Skywalker,” Okabe answered. Unequivocally. He crossed his arms, because apparently the RaiNet game was over.

Tony nodded. He hunched forward slightly, and clasped his hands over his leg. “I’m more of a Hanz Ollo guy, but I respect it.”

“...Who shot first?” (With a crossbow.)

“Hanz,” Tony answered as if by reflex, like he knew the question was coming, “...You know, we had Spark Wars back on Earth as well. Except a number of key details are different.”

Okabe sat more at attention, though ironically enough, he also found himself more relaxed. “Such as?” he asked while stroking his chin.

“We called it Star Wars... And it took place in space. With aliens.”

“You’re kidding...”

“I’m serious,” Tony assured him, “And Darth Spider was called Darth Vader.” The bottom half of Darth Spider’s helmet had an eerie resemblance to Spider-Man’s mask... It hit him rather close to home when that particular character died...

Tony finally decided to finish his drink, so he reached down and grabbed it. “Oh, and see this...?” he held up his bottle to show Okabe the label. “It’s still Doktor Pepper where I’m from, but with a ‘c’ instead of a ‘k’, and it’s shortened to ‘Dr’, not ‘Dk’.”

As an exercise in futility, he tried to ignore that the beverage had his ex-wife’s nickname in its name by pure coincidence... Predictably, he failed.

He sighed through his nose, and drank it down.

“Intriguing,” Okabe responded, as if he had learned some closely-guarded secret of the multiverse.

“Oh, yeah. I mean, I could do this all day,” Tony said. After all, there were seemingly infinite subtle differences between their universes that he could list off... And some that were not-so-subtle. “...but getting back to the topic at hand—”

Okabe’s stomach tightened, and he fought the urge to curse, even under his breath... For a brief moment he had thought he was in the clear after their conversation strayed into safer territory... but he quickly realized just how premature of a judgment that was after Tony went right back to it.

A fresh bead of sweat dripped from his forehead down the left side of his face. It held steady at the bottom of his chin for a few seconds, and then finally landed on one of the folds of his lab coat.

Of course he wouldn’t be let off so easily... Not when the secrets of time travel were at stake!

He tried to keep his breathing steady. He had to remain calm...

Was it getting even hotter? Was it just his imagination? How was his adversary not sweating his ass off in that thick suit of armor...?

Were it not for their chronic lack of funds, Okabe would have offered from the start to activate another of his lab’s ‘Future Artifacts’ to cool the room... but now was hardly the time to think about that... Besides, he would have to go digging for another mana crystal to replace the last one that had been fully drained, and he didn’t know how many they had left in the appropriate size—if they still had any left at all.

Tony nearly broke into a laugh.

Okabe really was too honest for his own good. He truly wore his heart on his sleeve.

Aside from the very noticeable souring of his expression, Okabe had also tightened his hands into fists. If he were to squeeze any tighter, the hilt of his mana saber toy would buckle and break.

“You’re too tense,” Tony said, “It’s bad for your health.”

“...How bad?” Okabe asked... tensely... As if he didn’t already know that. He figured he must have forgotten to take his anxiety medication again, though even if he had taken it, that would have only improved this situation so much.

“Look. Rintaro...” Tony started off, which made Okabe cringe, “We all want our happy ending... It may not always work out that way—prime example being me—but despite what you might be thinking right now, I’m not out here to ruin your life... I thought you would have realized that by now.”

Tony sat back and folded his arms. If he wanted to, he could have killed Okabe in over seven hundred ways—and that's just with his bare hands... But that wasn’t why he was there. That much should have been obvious, he thought.

Okabe groaned under his breath in a mixture of annoyance and relief as he thought about how to respond to that... After the fact, he prayed that his liege did not notice—or at least that he did not care. He didn’t mean to do it! It was purely a knee-jerk reaction!

“...What?” Tony asked in defense of himself, because from his perspective he had done nothing wrong... At least not within the last couple of minutes.

It was common practice in most places in Omorika for people to refer to one another by their given names... but to be frank, Okabe loathed the name Rintaro, and so he could never get used to that custom...

No... In truth, he refused to get used to it.

The name was too ‘old-fashioned’... To him, the name even sounded downright stupid—though his vague memories of Ancient Chuunibya may have been more responsible for that... Hououin Kyouma was much more fitting a name for someone of his high stature any day of the week.

Okabe was vexed. Even if he were to tell Tony about his past life, Tony would most likely not believe him. He might even think it was a joke...

Neither of those outcomes appealed to him. As such, asking to be called Hououin Kyouma was simply out of the question.

And as for why he didn’t want to be called Rintaro... He would prefer not to get into it. It would be too tedious to explain, not to mention humiliating for him.

“It’s... It’s nothing...” Okabe said, defeated. He buried his frustration to the best of his ability. In the first place, this wasn’t the first time he had tolerated an authority figure calling him Rintaro.

He told himself to just suck it up, because in the end, it didn’t even matter. Not as long as he could get out of this in one piece.

...It had never even occurred to him to simply suggest his family name.

“No, I get you. Tell me. What is it you prefer?” Tony asked in a moment of clarity.

It didn’t take him very long to figure out Okabe’s most likely grievance when calling Okabe by his name. What else would it be?

While this world had no Japan, there was a large segment of the population that shared a striking number of similarities with its culture. Mainly in the Kingdom of Itan, as well as its surrounding regions—there were even some within his own kingdom that followed such customs... In this very city, as a matter of fact.

Tony really should have known... Even setting aside Okabe’s clearly Japanese features, with a name like Okabe Rintaro there was never any room for doubt anyways—he was Itanese, without question.

“Okabe-san? Okabe-kun?” Tony spoke again, without really giving Okabe much of a chance to speak for himself.

As a prolific businessman (and king), between his previous life and his current one, he had a lot of experience in this field. Using honorifics always felt a bit out of place for him, but appeasing his potential business partners always took priority... Well, second priority—after profit.

...

Okay, so it was his third priority... But you get the point!

“J-just Okabe is fine...”

Somehow, things had become even more awkward for Okabe after hearing Tony use Itanese honorifics. It was unexpected, to say the least...

“Noted.”

Okabe sighed... After getting a better idea of Tony’s character, he wanted to help him. Really. He did... but... “I’m sorry, Your Majesty-”

“Tony.”

“I’m sorry, Tony...” Okabe mended, “I wish I could help you change your past... but I refuse. I will not go down that road again...”

Tony snapped his fingers and pointed at Okabe in a back and forth motion. “So that’s it,” he said as the main cause of their disconnect dawned on him, “We’re not even on the same page here.”

“...Huh?”

“Dude, I solved time travel years ago,” Tony revealed casually, “The second time was an accident... So relax. That’s not even what I’m here for.”

“It’s... It’s not...?” Okabe asked, half-croaking the words out.

“Yeah. If anything, you’d better not go changing the past,” Tony said, “You’ll make me relive it... You do that, and we’re gonna have a real big problem...”

“O-oh...” Okabe said, “Sorry. I-I just assumed...” His confusion was palpable.

“I’ve got an idea though,” Tony said while slowly getting up from his seat. He started walking around the somewhat cluttered lounge area of the apartment to get a good look at the state of Okabe’s ‘lab’... “Tell me what you think about this.”

“...Go on?” Okabe said while worriedly following Tony around with his eyes.

He felt incredibly exposed as Tony strutted about like he owned the place... especially since Tony was now pushing into his friend Daru’s domain...

Although it greatly concerned him what sort of... things... Tony might find in Daru’s habitat, at least with his life seemingly no longer under threat he could feel himself starting to relax again... In fact, his body was beginning to go limp in his chair as most of his tension evaporated away.

While he was now more at ease, this exchange was still giving Okabe a headache... His concept of reality had just been shattered around him with that last revelation, and he was struggling to put the pieces back together... Very much like Tony to drop a bomb and then walk away like it was nothing...

Okabe’s confusion was more than justified. Until now, almost all knowledge of time travel had been tied in some way to the genius that was his girlfriend (provisional basis).

On top of that, the other thing Tony just said also caught his attention... He said it so casually that Okabe almost glossed over it.

He would make Tony ‘relive the past’ if he changed it...? Did Tony also have a high degree of Reading Steiner?

But that couldn’t be it... The way Tony described it was way off... It sounded more like the result of a time leap, if anything.

“I see you’re a bit of an arcanist,” Tony said as he picked up a pink ceramic band that was sitting on Daru’s small metal desk. It vaguely resembled a wrist watch...

As his suit scanned and analyzed it, Tony started to smile again.

On the same desk, there was also something called a ‘communer’, among other... things...

Tony almost pointed out they had a far more advanced, technological equivalent on Earth called a ‘computer’, but they were already past that topic so he didn’t bother... because now... Now they were going to talk business.

“Y-yes...?” Okabe answered.

“Looks to me like all you need is funding,” Tony said as he placed the artifact back down on the desk, and turned around to face Okabe again.

He saw potential in Okabe...

Who’s to say how far he could take this little operation of his if he just had an extra push?

“Funding...” Okabe said in an uncertain tone.

“Yeah,” Tony said, “Let’s talk shop... I'm guessing this is where the magic happens?"

He sauntered over to a set of closed, off-white curtains as wide as the room and stepped through where they connected in the middle.

Okabe nervously got up from his seat and followed him, making sure to maintain a respectful one meter of space between them after catching up to him.

"Ah, y-yes... That is correct," he said, then cleared his throat. "However, as you duly noted, we are not very liquid right now."

"...I'm sorry. Is that a mahowave?" Tony asked while pointing to the magical artifact that looked very much like... you guessed it... a microwave. It was sitting atop a wide metal desk, right next to another communer of a different make.

"A man's gotta eat," Okabe dared to joke. "It is perhaps the world's greatest cooking-related artifact."

"Right..." Tony said with a smirk, "Clearly you don't own an air fryer."

“Sir,” called a voice from within his suit, “Look out the window...” The voice was feminine, but sounded somewhat artificial.

“Hold that thought,” Tony said to Okabe as he made his way over to the set of large windows back in the main room. They were the type that slid open sideways... “Got something for me, Sage?”

“You should see them now,” Sage responded as 'she' highlighted, on his heads-up display, a horse-drawn carriage that had just rounded a corner. She had been tasked with keeping an eye out for any potential threats in the area. “My scans indicate five individuals... Four men, one woman.”

Okabe also made for the window to see what the commotion was, but unlike Tony who was standing at the far right side and only peeking out, Okabe stood right in front of it in full view.

Tony briefly glanced at him and considered criticizing him for doing so, but it was too late to cry about it so he didn’t bother... “These guys yours?” he asked as three men got out of the carriage. They, as well as the coachman, started running towards the Brawn Workshop.

The men were all dressed head to toe in 'black olive'-green armor made out of the highly durable silk of the makumo—a powerful species of demonic spider native to the Demon Continent of Mellon. They were also wearing helmets of the same color to conceal their identities as if they were nothing more than second rate villains in some kind of movie or manavision series.

“I can hardly pay rent. Do you think I can afford guys?!” Okabe asked pointedly as his attention shifted to the door.

This was supposed to be over, he thought, but the more things change, the more they seemed to stay the same...

His eyes darted around the room as he searched for ideas. He was not content to be raided helplessly yet again. Especially since this time he did not have the benefit of the PhoneWave (name subject to change)—let alone its extension, the Time Leap Circlet...

There would be no redo. No time reset... He either had to take a stand here, or possibly die like a dog while on the run.

He couldn’t even couch his bets on Convergence to save his hide anymore. That was only in the Alpha and Beta Attractor Fields...

With Tony there, he at least stood a fighting chance, however... Or so he hoped.

He looked at the relic still in his hand, and shook his head in frustration before clumsily placing the Cyalume Saber back on its display rack.

“You good with steam blocking your view?” Okabe asked quickly and quietly as he ran back towards the development room.

“Go. Show me what you got,” Tony said as he prepared for the door to fly open any second.

Okabe cursed under his breath as he urgently dug through a pile of Future Artifacts until— “Aha...!” Found it! Future Artifact No.4: Moad Snake!

It resembled a claymore mine from Earth, though strangely enough there was no such equivalent in Taazokaan... Its design had been carefully devised by Okabe after receiving inspiration from a popular in-universe novel called Metal Moa Solid: Rising—the author of which was from Earth... just a different one than Tony’s.

With haste, Okabe pulled its pin and slid it face up into the main room just as the entrance was kicked in.

Not even a full two seconds after removing the magical device’s seal, there was an explosion of catastrophe...! Extra thick steam sprayed forth in every direction in an instant, blocking the intruders’ visions in full!

“Huh,” Tony said to himself as his suit also received a free rinse.

His vision was somewhat dampened by the steam as well, but his suit had automatically switched to its thermal imaging mode.

He found it to be a bit jarring, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. He was in a far better state than the men complaining about it in front of him, in any case. He could at least see them to varying degrees... Literally... You know, because of their body heat...

Rather than risk blowing the steam away with some of his fancier parlor tricks, he ran into the thick of them to engage in hand to hand combat.

To their credit, these intruders were of an especially sturdy sort, and hardly took any damage at all from Tony’s assorted magic-augmented melee attacks.

That was, of course, mainly due to the fact that he was holding back... a lot... He had no intention of making donuts today. Just think of the mess...!

He needed only to subdue them, anyways, not kill them... Dead men tell no tales and all that.

...

Okabe, meanwhile... understood his limitations...

As he concealed himself in the development room behind the wide metal desk, and amongst shelves of miscellaneous books and other items, he deeply inhaled as large and deep of a breath as he could under the circumstances to prepare a spell he referred to as his ‘Stealth Field’.

It was a spell of his own creation that required crouching low to the ground... It helped to remain as still as possible, though movement was permitted to a degree.

It made him nigh impossible to notice, though it did not operate via the reflection of light a la some kind of invisibility barrier. Nor did it induce some other method of optical camouflage... It was merely a spell that made him... ‘somebody else’s problem’.

The intruders would simply overlook him... because he was no longer their problem, but rather somebody else’s...

The idea came to him after having read The Hitchhiker’s Guide to Gal City.

He was 'safe' like this... He felt guilty, though. Not to mention cowardly.

Squatting on the floor in relative safety while Tony was left to fend for himself left a bitter taste in his mouth... But he was a lover, not a fighter, damn it... Surely, Tony understood...

He had every confidence in Tony’s combat prowess... If anything, he would be in Tony’s way... right?

He shut his eyes tight to maintain his Stealth Field, and felt his entire body growing tense again. Proper visualization was the key.

...

The stream of steam lasted for half a minute at best. It was far more short-lived than Tony had anticipated... Not that he was really banking on it in the first place.

He had only knocked out two of the large men at this point. Their strength and endurance-based builds made them even more durable than they appeared at a glance.

The third man was a bit different...

He seemed to anticipate each of Tony’s swings, and even a surprise kick after feinting with a right hook. It was some sort of sixth sense, Tony figured... The man kept shifting his body out of harm’s way with minimal wasted movement.

The fourth intruder, meanwhile, had been waiting out the steam in the narrow stairway leading up to the room.

“Sir...!” Sage called out urgently, just as a giant hole was torn out of the development room’s front wall.

Tony couldn’t tell what happened, exactly. But whatever it was, it shook the entire building.

He immediately turned to the development room in worry... Had he known something like this was going to happen, he wouldn’t have gone so easy on the mooks that came through the door like civilized criminals, and would have instead prioritized Okabe's safety, one way or another...

No longer having the privilege of taking his time, Tony shot ice magic out through the palms of his armored hands. He started at the third guy’s feet, then quickly worked his way up until the man’s entire body was encased in several centimeters of ice.

He exhaled sharply and watched as the fourth man shook his head no and ran back down the stairs.

Tony then ran towards the development room without wasting another second, and as soon as he saw her, he shot a linear blast of concentrated light magic (a laser beam) at the woman whom he hadn’t even considered an active threat until now.

She was dressed head to toe in a black leather outfit, and wore a thick black metal helmet to top it off. Not a single millimeter of her skin nor hair was exposed.

She blocked the light magic attack (laser beam) as easily as she breathed by waving her hand in front of her to erect a powerful barrier.

It would normally be invisible to the naked eye, though Tony could still see it thanks to one of the numerous enchantments inscribed on the inside of his helmet.

The barrier took the shape of a stone brick wall, though it was still largely transparent. Only the outlines of the edges and cracks could be seen.

Seeing it meant nothing, however, since Tony couldn’t exactly penetrate it.

Tony looked around the room for Okabe, and quickly noticed that he was unconscious at the woman’s feet, behind the desk.

He breathed, somewhat relieved... At the very least, he could tell that Okabe was still alive.

“Come with me if you want to live,” the woman demanded.

“Uhhh. Not today, Terminator,” Tony declared sarcastically. “Sage. Give me an hour, would you?”

Click here to read on AO3.

#tony stark #steins;gate #steins gate #okabe rintarou #fanfiction #starks;gate #sg 1 #crossover #fantasy au #buddy fic #plus romance eventually #eventually connects with kca

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gascreates · 5 months

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when aang doesn't explain everything

#part of my new effort to gaslight people into thinking im wriitng fics that im not #i mean my effort to provide visual creative prompts #go nuts if you get inspired #i have no intentions of adding more context :)#atla #sokka #zuko #@spidey-thwiped for the idea among many others #brainstorm buddies <3 <3 <3

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panevanbuckley · 5 months

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soulmate au where your soulmate's thoughts appear on your skin except your soulmate has adhd and your body becomes a living canvas of nonsensical, never-ending, constantly entertaining trails of thought

#like out of all the soulmate aus i always found the 'thoughts on skin' one most unrealistic #because my damn brain never shuts up! there's no way my soulmate would just be getting one random thought appear on them 😭#imagine your otp #soulmate au #writing prompt #drarry #wolfstar #jegulus #buddie #lestappen #maxiel #landoscar #sebchal #martian #sambucky #sterek #IF ANYBODY WRITES OR FINDS A FIC LIKE THIS FOR ANY OF <<THESE SHIPS PLS PLS SEND MY WAY 🙏

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oldfangirl81 · 8 months

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A few hours later they return.

"You are the chosen one. We found our notes."

"I would have brought them the first time Kevin if you had just said something."

"Shut up, Chad. We are talking to the Chosen One now."

#fic prompt #buddie #tarlos #mcshep #mcdanno #teen wolf

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voiider · 2 months

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I need codependent Danny/Jason as a little treat (for me) and I love the idea of them having some sort of instant connection the moment they meet (bc ghost stuff idk)

Danny who's been dropped in Gotham with no way home (alt universe??) and he's been here for 36 hours and having a Very bad time senses a liminal being and immediately latches onto them heedless of the fact that his new best friend is shooting at some seedy guys in an alley and goes off about how stressed he is and how he can't make it back to the ghost zone and what a bad day he's been having (and it's important to note Danny is a littol ghost boy literally hanging off of Jason's neck as he floats aimlessly) and Jason is like "who are you??" And Danny is like "oh sorry I'm Danny lol" and then just continues lamenting his woes

And honestly ? This might as well happen. Nothing about this Danny guy(is he human?) gives Jason a bad vibe and tbh he's never felt more calm and level headed before so he just keeps up his usual Red Hood patrol and doesn't even think about it when he heads back to a safehouse and feeds Danny dinner (breakfast) before crashing for half the day

The only thing I actually need is Jason meeting up with the bats for some sort of Intel meeting and they're like "uhhh who's that" and Jason is like "that's Danny." And does not elaborate (very ".... What do you have there?" "A smoothie" vibes)

And it takes them a while to realize that these two have known each other for less than 12 hours and are literally attached at the hip

#very remora fish with a shark #jason todd #danny fenton #danny phantom #dpxdc #dp x dc #this isnt super important but i imagine Danny's ghost form as young and unaged from his death so jason is used to this small whispy kid #who just hangs off him and talks literally all the time #so when something comes up and someone is like 'idk if we can bring danny looking like... that' (glowing and a literal ghost)#danny is like 'oh ok u need a human? ok :)' and transforms #its been WEEKS #jason didn't know he could do that #nobody did #and now theres this 20ish dude standing there #human form danny doesn't talk a lot (anxiety) ghost form danny can't stop talking (anxiety)#could be a ship fic and at this point jason goes from 'where is my little buddy :(' to 👀😳#i imagine theres a sort of feedback loop with them both feeding off of each other's ecto energies and vibes idk #so when danny is human its not as strong #batman is convince this strange entity is like hypnoyizing his son and like hes not WRONG #but it goes both ways #idk #i just need more codependency fics :(#i should go on a bender #ignore my 500 open tabs and go to town

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the-likesofus · 4 months

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Buddie fanfic authors be like:

#buddie #christopher diaz #buddie fic #911 meme #and every time im like yes. yes of course he is. makes sense #911 #meegs says stuff

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loserdiaz · 1 month

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r/relationship_advice

u/hot_pilot84 • 2d ago

MY (40M) BOYFRIEND? (33M) IS IN LOVE WITH HIS BEST FRIEND (36M) AND IM THE THIRD WHEEL

I'm new to this reddit stuff, but a coworker suggested it, and I thought I'd give it a try. I probably should start saying he's not really my boyfriend??? We just started dating a few weeks ago, and it's been... interesting. But I really like him and he is a nice, sweet guy.

He recently came out, so I've been trying to be patient and understanding. But recently it's been hard to spend any time alone because his best friend is always there.

Now, I also like the guy, so I don't really mind, and to be honest, I kinda suspected from the first moment they were in love with each other. They both talk about each other all the time, and when we hang out together, I can't help but feel like intruding on an intimate moment I shouldn't be part of.

Like, our second date was at his sister's wedding and the best friend spent most of the time glued to our side. He has a son who my date adores, so they danced together for most of the party as well. It was cute, but again: it felt like intruding on a private moment.

Then we had a relaxing night at his place, eating take out on his couch and watching a movie.... when the best friend just, came in. No notice, no knocking. He has a key to the place and he just walked in. It was awkward at first but we insisted it wasn't a big deal so he stayed for tge rest of the night.

By the time I was leaving, my date was telling him to just get comfortable on the couch.

Another thing is. My date? Situationship? I don't know how to call it anymore. Well, I recently found out that he is the legal guardian of his best friend 's kid? In case anything happens? I wouldn’t find this weird at all if it wasn't for the fact this man has parents and sisters and other close family members that also have a less chance of dying along with him on the job. (They work together.)

Also. Recently, the best friend broke up with his girlfiend and called this guy in the middle of our date. So, he crashed again.

All of this to say, I'm not really hurt? This was new and sure, I like the guy. But to be honest my expectations were low. This is fairly recent, so it's not like my heart is broken and I just lost the love of my life. No, that's not the problem.

I just don't think these two know they're in love with each other, and it’s starting to get really uncomfortable for me. Should I say something? Should I talk with my date about it or just break things off and keep it vague, but that we should still be friends? Should I talk with both of them at the same time and confront the situation?

This is a situation I don't even know how to begin to get a handle on. Does anyone know where I should start?

rctherpcliarredditor • commented 1d ago

to be honest, i don't really have any advice for you. i just find this gay drama really hilarious. thoughts and prayers for you, my man 🙏🏼🙏🏼

twohottakes • commented 6hrs ago

definitely have a conversation alone with your date. point all of this out to him and tell him you don't wanna get in the middle if there's deeper feelings involved for someone else. all the luck to you, man!

storyreddit23 • commented 2hrs ago

talk to ur date!! and pls, post an update if u do. i wanna know how this ends.

#this is so silly #but im sick and this is the best i can do rn ig #eventually i will go back to my wips #reddit au #ig #tommy kinard #evan buckley #eddie diaz #bucktommy #??? kinda #buddie #buck x eddie #911 abc #911 on abc #my writing #april writes #buddie fic

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girls-online · 14 days

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kind of obsessed with how the increasing bucktommy fandom divide—exacerbated by the influx of new, post-buck-coming-out, overwhelmingly team tommy, fans—has introduced eddie haters into the fandom in ways we have never seen before. there are headcanons and fics wishing on his downfall, and in some cases his death, plotting to reinscribe christopher as bucktommy’s child. this is delicious to me. eddie diaz, you are now a villain. you are a hot girl. you are the template. they are tuning in to watch you suffer and fumble when real ones know that you will rise from the ashes of this cheating storyline like your dead wife did and remind everyone who you are. you are that bitch. you are my baby. you are now one of my elite employees. eddie girls rise 🆙 we are so back…

#this is obviously satire before any weirdos get ahold of this #i’m like 80% unserious and 20% deadly serious #there was a fic in the ao3 buddie that fantasized about my man’s DEATHHH i am only a girl #buddie #911 buddie #eddie diaz #911 speculation #911 on abc

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burnthatbridge · 1 month

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if you love him let him go (if you love him let him know)

pre-buddie, bucktommy | T | 3k | angst, pining tommy needs to tell eddie something not on ao3 atm because i can't figure out if this is done or if i'm continuing it - please let me know your thoughts! now on ao3 because i hate not having all my fic in one place

“Can I get you another beer, man?”

Eddie checks his watch. It’s only a little after nine thirty. He’s kind of hoping to get home before Chris goes to sleep, but he’ll not be heading to bed any time soon, will likely stay up later than Eddie. Friday night means he disregards his supposed bedtime — not that he sticks to it that well on school nights, now he’s sixteen. “Sure, thanks.”

Tommy nods, disappears into the kitchen, returns a moment later with a can of IPA in one hand, a bottle of lager in the other. They’ve already finished the six-pack Eddie brought over, but trust Buck — well, Buck and Tommy — to have Eddie’s favorite beer in their fridge. Tommy hands over the can, already cracked open, and Eddie takes a sip as Tommy settles down at the opposite end of the couch. He doesn’t turn to face the TV, sits twisted towards Eddie instead, but he does pick up the remote and turn down the volume, the post-fight commentary rendered nearly unintelligible.

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Eddie twists towards Tommy himself, something not-quite-anxious-but-almost flaring in his chest. Over the years they have been friends, he and Tommy have spoken about lots of things, including those not so easy to discuss: their respective experiences in the army, Tommy’s tough childhood, Eddie’s difficult parents, the hard aspects of the job. But they’ve all been topics that have come up naturally, raised organically. Tommy has never led into anything with such a pointed opener before.

Eddie studies him. He has one knee pulled up on the couch cushion, foot poking out off the end, the other foot planted on the floor, nearly parallel to the base of the couch. One arm is up on the backrest, the other relaxed, beer bottle in that hand, resting on his thigh, dripping condensation painting a charcoal ring on his — probably Buck’s, in fact, given how tight the fabric is stretched over the muscle of his leg — grey sweats. He’s not tense, but he’s not smiling, and there’s something about his expression that Eddie can’t place. It’s not that he hasn’t seen this look before, because he’s pretty sure he has, witnessed it in flickers across numerous occasions over the years, there and then gone, present for but a heartbeat. But he’d never known what it meant any of those times and he certainly doesn’t now.

“'Course,” Eddie says, when Tommy doesn’t go on, seems to be waiting for some kind of sign. Then adds, feeling like it’s necessary given the gravity he can feel pulling this lightsome evening down to something more serious. “Anything.”

Tommy sighs, bites his lip like he doesn’t want to speak, even though he’s the one who said he wanted to talk, then shakes his head and takes a pull of his beer.

“Is everything okay?” Eddie’s starting to feel worried now. He mentally scans back over the past few weeks, trying to remember if Tommy has mentioned anything about work that could be a problem. He saw him at basketball last week, and nothing had seemed off. Plus, Buck hasn’t said anything. Not that he’d necessarily tell Eddie about an issue Tommy was having, not if Tommy wanted it kept private, but Eddie can usually tell when Buck’s concerned about someone, and he hasn’t picked up on anything, not at all.

But maybe this isn’t about a problem Tommy is having. Maybe this is a Buck problem, something Buck has kept from Eddie. It would make sense why Tommy would bring it up with him; sometimes a concerted, multi-person effort is the only way to get through to Buck. And Tommy’s more likely to bring in Eddie first, and then expand the team to include Maddie, Chim, more, as needed.

“Is Buck okay?” Eddie asks, something like panic constricting his throat, making the words come out a little strangled.

Tommy actually laughs at that, a small, choked thing, an exhale of sound and air. He shakes his head again, but not a no. More like an extension of the laugh, a motion to accompany it, to better convey the disbelief — not humor — contained in it. “He’s fine.”

It’s a relief to hear. Buck had seemed physically okay, when Eddie had seen him briefly before he left the house, since he’d maybe purposefully waited to order his Uber until Buck pulled up in his jeep outside, despite Christopher’s insistence he didn’t need to wait for Buck to arrive, despite the fact that his kid is more than old enough to be left in the house alone for the twenty minutes it would have taken Buck to drive over, while Eddie was ferried the opposite way. But there could still have been something, Buck could have been fighting through pain, much better at hiding any hurt of his body than he is at masking his emotional distress.

“But,” Tommy says, and that one word is enough to have Eddie’s muscles tightening once more, “It is Evan I wanted to talk about.”

Again, Tommy doesn’t follow it up with anything. Eddie has found, in their time as friends, that Tommy is not often a man lost for words. Quite the opposite, in fact. He usually says what he means, means what he says, and is an expert at listening and delivering sage advice. This reticence– it doesn’t feel like it bodes well, has the hair on the back of Eddie’s neck prickling.

“Alright,” Eddie says, a feeble prompt. “So, Buck?”

Tommy nods, like he’s gearing himself up for something, to face a challenge, to take a punch. Eddie is expecting something bad, so the words he says catch him even more off guard than they would have. “I want to ask Evan to marry me.”

Maybe if Tommy had seemed eager, excited, when he turned to him, Eddie could have anticipated the blow, could have felt a creeping suspicion this is where Tommy was headed, could have been provided with enough of a heads-up to brace himself. As it is, he doesn’t see the hit coming, takes it full force to the chest, so hard it steals his breath, knocks the wind from him. His mouth goes slack, and he feels his fingers slide against the slippery sides of his beer can, almost spills it over Tommy and Buck’s lounge carpet before he gets a hold on it, on himself. He forces himself to smile. “That’s– that’s great,” he makes himself say, only faintly aware that Tommy isn’t smiling back, like this moment should call for. “Did you–” he swallows around the bile climbing his esophagus, “Do you want help planning the proposal?” He wishes he could take the words back the second they’re out. Because this — just hearing that Tommy wants to ask Buck — is torture enough. To be involved with it, to help enable it, Eddie will be lucky if it doesn’t kill him. Maybe not his body, but certainly his soul.

“No.” Tommy shakes his head. “No, I want to ask him to marry me. But I’m not going to. At least, not now.”

Eddie squints at him. The news that Tommy wants to marry Buck might hurt Eddie, but it’s not exactly surprising. Eddie’s seen how much Tommy cares for him in the years they’ve been together, has seen the way he looks at him, the way they look at each other. Has felt the way it burns him, the scorching heat of flame, the searing cold of ice. He doesn’t understand what Tommy is saying, doesn’t understand why this proclamation seems not to be a happy one. “Why not?” Eddie asks, almost grateful for the opportunity to present confusion, curiosity, rather than forced pleasure at the thought of one of his closest friends and his– best friend marrying each other. “You guys are serious. I mean, you live together.”

Tommy huffs another laugh, still more disbelief than humor, really the opposite of humor. “His lease was up.”

“Right. But he chose not to renew it. He chose to move in with you,” Eddie says, slow, struggling to understand, the pounding of his pulse not helping him think clearly, see through the puzzle that is everything Tommy has said so far and the way he has said it.

“He was never going to renew it,” Tommy tells him.

And that’s– that’s something Eddie didn’t know. He hates it when he learns information about Buck from Tommy, always has, even though he fights with everything in him not to feel like that. Tommy is Buck’s boyfriend, of course he’s going to know things about him that Eddie doesn’t, know him in a way that Eddie doesn’t.

“We hadn’t spoken about living together,” Tommy says, eyes on Eddie. “But he’d said he thought the loft was too expensive and he was spending nearly every night at mine by that point. When he wasn’t on shift. Or at yours.” Eddie pulls his eyes away, takes a sip from his beer for something to do, even though the bitter taste is turning his stomach. “He said he wasn’t going to renew it, that he’d look for somewhere new, cheaper. But this was too close to the end of his lease to find a place before he had to move out. I asked where he was going to stay in the meantime.”

“And he said with you,” Eddie guesses, more a statement than a question.

But Tommy shakes his head. A smile curls his lips but his eyes– his eyes don’t match. “He said he’d crash on your couch, actually.”

Eddie takes another mouthful of beer, holds it there, on the back of his tongue. He didn’t know any of this. Buck would, of course, have been more than welcome. Likely why he hadn’t asked in advance, why he planned for it without seeking permission.

“I said he could stay with me, instead. That he’d be able to sleep in a bed here.” Eddie swallows, the beer somehow thick and cloying in a way that it shouldn’t be. “And then when he started making noises about looking for a new place, I told him he should stay.”

While it’s not how Eddie had, unwillingly, pictured it in his head — Tommy and Buck mutually agreeing that Buck shouldn’t renew his lease, deciding they wanted to live together — it still doesn’t explain what Tommy has said. “And he did stay,” Eddie says. “So, why aren’t– Does Buck not want to get married?” But that can’t be it, that can’t be right. Eddie is certain Buck does want to be married, only he’d tried hard not to think of Buck wanting that with Tommy, with anyone. Anyone else.

“No, he does,” Tommy confirms it. He leans over and deposits his beer on the coffee table. Then sits back, still turned to Eddie, but arms crossed over his chest, like a protection of himself. “We’ve spoken about it, discussed it. And he’s told me he’s always wanted that, to get married, to be part of a family.” Tommy pops one hand out of the fold of his arms to hold it up, out, quelling, like Eddie has protested. He hasn’t, but his heart is doing something approximating a riot at the idea of Tommy being Buck’s family. “And I know he has a family. He knows he does. In you and Chris, in Maddie and Jee, in the 118. But–” Tommy breaks off, tips his head to the side, gaze boring into Eddie’s face so strong that Eddie wishes he could turn away, duck and run. “You know how much he’s always wanted to belong somewhere.”

He does, Eddie thinks, the thought almost violent in its intensity. He belongs with me. Except, he doesn’t. Not really, not how Eddie wants, not the way he does with Tommy.

“And I want that for him,” Tommy goes on, tucking his hand back in, squeezing his arms tighter about himself. Eddie’s never seen him like this, hunched in on himself, curled small. Tommy is usually so open, larger than life. “I want to be the one to give that to him.”

Eddie wants to be the one to give that to him. Desires it desperately, a secret need he’s tucked as far inside himself as he can. He can feel it now, raging to be let out, to be set free. But he can’t, he won’t. Buck is with Tommy, he’s happy with Tommy. Tommy who is so warm and kind and good, Tommy who is better than Eddie in every conceivable way, who brings so much to Buck’s life, who gives all of himself to Buck. Who wants to give him even more. Wants to, but apparently won’t.

Eddie doesn’t understand. “Then, if you want to, why won’t you ask him?” he questions, trying to.

“If I ask him now, he’ll say no.” Tommy states it like indisputable fact, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world that Buck would refuse him.

Eddie shakes his head, understanding even less. “But he loves you.”

Tommy smiles again, then, larger than he had before, but as devoid of happiness, as empty of cheer. This smile hurts to see, reflects the way Eddie felt inside when Tommy had said I want to ask Evan to marry me. “I know he does.” Tommy’s tone is sure, but wistful. “But he loves you more.”

It’s like– It’s like nothing Eddie has ever felt. Or maybe it’s like everything he’s ever felt. The shock of a residual lightning bolt, the joy of being a part of the 118, the pain of a bullet ripping through his shoulder, the awe of holding his son for the first time. Eddie wants Tommy’s words to be true maybe more than he’s ever wanted anything. But he also cannot believe them, has no trust that they are true. Because they can’t be. Buck loves Tommy. Not Eddie.

“We’re friends. Best friends,” Eddie points out. “Of course, he– he loves me. But not more. Not like he loves you. He’s in love with you.”

Tommy sighs, arms uncrossing, palms coming to rest on his thighs, body taking on a posture Eddie is familiar with, the one he falls into when he’s talking someone through something, the one he adopted when Eddie came out to him some six months ago. “Eddie, he’s in love with you.”

Eddie shakes his head. It’s everything he’s ever wanted to hear, but coming from the wrong lips. Spoken by not by Buck himself but by Buck’s boyfriend, oh god. “He isn’t. Tommy, he can’t be.”

But Tommy is nodding, nodding like what he’s said is true, like he wants Eddie to believe it.

“He’s not,” Eddie says, hears the denial, the disbelief spill from him. Buck doesn’t love him. He doesn’t. But Eddie– Eddie loves– “I’m sorry,” Eddie says, almost a gasp. “Tommy, I’m sorry, I–”

“It’s not your fault,” Tommy cuts him off. “I knew what I was getting into. When I started seeing Evan, I knew there were going to be three people in this relationship. I just–” Tommy sighs again, scrubs his palms along his thighs. “I didn’t expect it to get this far. I thought we’d just be a fun, easy thing. Something to ease Evan into his sexuality, that new part of himself. I didn’t expect it to go like this. I didn’t expect to feel like this.” Tommy closes his eyes, lashes falling to his cheeks. He breaths in and out, while Eddie’s own breath is caught in his chest. When Tommy opens his eyes, he says, “But I don’t have to tell you how easy it is to love him.”

Fuck. Tommy knows. Because Eddie does. He loves Buck, loves him so endlessly he doesn’t know where the feeling starts and where it ends. Doesn’t know when it started; doesn’t think it will ever end. “I’m sorry,” Eddie whispers, needing to say the words again, needing Tommy — his friend — to hear them.

Tommy lifts one palm from his thigh, his wrist pressing into the muscle as he cuts his fingers to the side in a dismissal. “Don’t apologize for it. I’m certainly not going to. I’m never going to be sorry for loving him.” He drops his hand back down, pats his leg, emphasis of the point. “But it is a problem.” He smiles, rueful. “I thought I’d be able to break up with him, if he didn’t break up with me. I should have, ages ago. I certainly should have when you came out.”

Eddie, selfishly, had hoped Buck would break up with Tommy then. But it had seemed like a farfetched fantasy. He had told Buck he was queer after Buck had already moved in with Tommy. He’d admitted it to himself, to Frank, before that, but hadn’t told anyone else for weeks. In hindsight, sometimes he figures he’d left it too late, but most of the time he didn’t think it would have made a difference at all. But now, with what Tommy has told him, maybe it would have. It’s a knife sliding between Eddie’s ribs to think maybe. Maybe.

“But I didn’t.” Tommy looks resigned, shoulders drooping.

“Why are you telling me this?” Eddie needs to know. It seems like Tommy has known for years that Eddie has loved Buck. Loves Buck. I knew there were going to be three people in this relationship. So why is he only bringing it up now?

“Because I didn’t. Because I can’t. I can’t break up with him. But I want to move forward. And I want to do so with him, for us to further our life together. But if I ask him to marry me when he doesn’t know for sure that you’re not an option, he’ll say no.”

Fear freezes Eddie’s insides. “So, what– what are you asking me to do?” Because Tommy is asking something of Eddie, wants something. Something Eddie fears he will have to make himself give.

Tommy straightens up, shoulders rolling back. He’s serious, solemn but not demanding or pleading when he says it. A devastating request. “I’m asking you, as my friend, to let him go.”

Eddie could be sick, he thinks, could vomit up the three and a quarter beers and the half a dozen chicken wings he’s consumed since he got to Tommy and Buck’s place. Could spill the mess of his insides up all over himself, all over Tommy, all over their lives. Tommy is his friend, was his friend before he was ever Buck’s boyfriend. Eddie should do this thing for him. Should give Buck his blessing to marry Tommy, give Buck up, give him over, completely, to this man who has loved him so well for the past three years. Eddie should; in his gut he knows it would be the right thing to do. But his heart– his heart is in revolt. It’s Buck. He loves him. How can he ever let him go?

Tommy leans forward, places a hand on Eddie’s leg, squeezes his fingers around the ball of his kneecap, until Eddie lifts his gaze and meets his eyes. “Or,” he says, somehow even more serious, “I am telling you, as your friend, to go and get him.”

#do we need to see where this goes next?#or is it good as is?#these are the questions that haunt me #(also i am totally avoiding writing chapter 5 of my wip please don't kill me)#buddie #bucktommy #buddie fic #bucktommy fic #911 fic #911 #911 abc #myfic

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usereddie · 26 days

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hello i humbly offer another installment of my "this was supposed to be a text post but it spiraled into a short coda oneshot" series.

hen and eddie talk about buck's coming out. also today's wordle is not lover i wouldn't spoil it and lover has already been used as a wordle. it was for the themes.

“Did you know? About Buck, I mean? Did you suspect at all?”

Hen looks up at him and puts her phone down, he gets a wordle spoiler when he looks at her screen. Lover. Got it.

“Him being queer?”

“I think he identifies as bisexual.”

“Okay,” Hen says, and Eddie watches her face flit through a complicated series of emotions before landing on something fond and knowing that makes heat crawl up his spine. “You wanna sit down?”

“This doesn’t feel like a sit down conversation, it’s not a big deal, I’m just asking if you knew—”

“Eddie,” she cuts him off. Her smile is kind and gentle and Eddie gets the quick building feeling he should’ve stayed in the bunk room. “Sit down.”

He sits.

Hen pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose and tilts her head a little as she smiles at him. The head tilt reminds him of Buck because he finds little pieces of Buck everywhere. He’s in the song on the radio in Eddie’s truck on the way to work and he’s in Christopher’s English homework because the stories Buck used to tell him when he was little enough to ask for them influenced his creative writing. He’s in Eddie’s kitchen even when he isn’t because Buck got him a set of rainbow silicon spatulas because they were a buy one get one free deal.

A copy of Buck’s loft keys on Eddie’s keychain, his name in the calendar that he wrote himself take out w/ buck ! no skipping in his messy, nearly illegible scrawl.

But Eddie can read it because he doesn’t think there’s a universe out there where he doesn’t understand Buck down to the chicken scratch.

“I didn’t know, not for sure. It wasn’t ever something I thought about at length, either. I’ve mentioned it to Karen once or twice and there have been times where she’d shoot me a smirk from across Bobby and Athena’s backyard at something Buck said, but it’s not something I’ve ever discussed. That doesn’t feel right.”

“But you knew?”

“I wasn’t surprised.”

He fidgets with a rubber band someone left on the table. He wants to ask more. Needs to know what made her realize it in Buck. If she sees the same in him.

Eddie’s never really thought about it. Or, that’s not quite true. He knows, in a way. That something’s never been quite right. That he’s never felt for women what he’s been told he’s supposed to feel.

Dating isn’t supposed to feel like a performance, he doesn’t think. Nobody else seems to think it is.

He likes the sex for the most part. Figured that was enough to carry it. Sex feels good but then again he’s pretty sure sex always feels good when both people want it. It’s not like it’s some sort of burden to eat his girlfriends out but there’s something missing. He likes making them feel good but he doesn’t like how high pitched their moans are of the soft sighs that spill out of their mouths. There are soft tits where hard chests should be and it doesn’t.

It doesn’t feel right. The sex is good, it's fine, he'll take it, but—

Love shouldn’t be just about sex. Eddie doesn’t want it to be.

“Did you ever assume something about—” he cuts himself off but Hen sees right through him anyway. Maybe lesbians have some sort of psychic third eye that lets them see beyond the performative exterior he puts on. He tries not to squirm as she looks at him.

“About you?” she asks, and the world doesn’t stop spinning or start spinning backwards or tilt on its axis. Eddie thinks it should. It’s the least the earth could do, honestly.

He swallows.

“Yeah.”

Hen hums and Eddie can tell she’s trying to gather her thoughts and form them into sentences that won’t send him running for the hills. Being—this doesn’t feel like something to run from, though. Not so much anymore. Maybe a few years ago, maybe when he first got to LA and his parents' words and their bitterness were still stuck to his skin. When he still felt like he wasn’t good enough. Not for his son, not for Shannon, not for himself.

He feels good enough now. And he thinks he’d like to fall for someone the way Buck seems to be falling for Tommy. Except he’s really fucking scared the person he’s falling for is—

Well.

Buck.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise, and it doesn’t, not really, it’s the kind of thought that sits quietly in the back of your mind and waits for you to uncover it.

Buck came out and it uncovered itself.

Buck is bi. Buck dates men.

Buck could date him. And he isn’t.

That’s the crux of it all. Eddie was drunk and Buck’s arm was around his shoulder and he felt lightheaded, couldn't stop smiling so hard his cheeks hurt the next day. Bubblier than the champagne. Floaty. It wasn’t even a new feeling, not with Buck.

He makes him so fucking happy.

Even through hell, Buck makes him happy. That’s love, probably. Definitely. Eddie tries not to think about it too hard otherwise he might have to go see Dr. Salazar again, and he really doesn’t feel like explaining this to the woman who diagnosed him with repression.

Getting an I told you so from his sisters would be one thing.

“Do you want me to be honest?”

“Yes,” he says, far too quick and clipped and awkward. He smiles tightly.

“Yeah. I thought you were, actually. When you got to the station, you wouldn’t talk about Christopher’s other parent. Even in the beginning, you barely talking about him. I figured an army guy from Texas probably wasn’t used to being out. And then you weren’t gay, so I assumed you were just being a scorpio and not letting anyone in. But you let Buck in.”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t—there’s no bet about it. About the two of you. I don't think anyone would be surprised, but no one talks about it. That’s not the kind of thing you gossip about. But, yeah. People were surprised when the mysterious partner you wouldn’t talk about was your wife, and not a husband.”

“Do you think I’m in love with Buck?”

“That’s not my place to tell you.”

“Hen. You’re my friend, and the only other queer person I know and trust enough to ask this to. I can’t exactly go ask him that question, and I don’t know who else to talk to. Do you think I’m in love with Buck?”

“Yes.”

Eddie’s exhale is shaky.

“Yeah. Me, too.”

#bia.fic #buddie fic #eddie diaz #911 abc #911 spoilers

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hmslusitania · 2 months

Text

Eddie stares at the screen. It’s not — the title is…

Well.

Fuck.

He’s read enough of the Reddit thread in question to know that he’s phrasing it right but he doesn’t—

It feels bad to post something that starts with “AITA my [32M] best friend [32M] just started dating someone new and for the first time since I’ve known him its a guy [39M]. Every time I think about them together it makes me want to puke and/or die and/or punch somebody. I’ve never thought I was homophobic before. One of my closest friends at work (and our workplace is like a family in the most literal aside from blood sense) is a lesbian and I have a regular wine night with her wife and we’ve never had an issue!”

But like. He doesn’t know what else to do. He can’t exactly ask Buck about it. And he’s not going to text Hen or Karen to ask them to delve into their deeper analyses of his psyche and whether or not they’ve secretly picked up “”””signs”””” that he’s homophobic. If they have? He doesn’t want to know. Because he’s not a homophobe! He isn’t! Really truly!!

At least he’s never been before when it was Hen and Karen and Michael and David and people he'd met on calls and even Josh (his issues with Josh had been 1,000% unrelated to Josh’s sexuality). But for whatever reason, Buck and Tommy dating — Buck and Tommy kissing — Buck and Tommy having sex and—

He loses the plot in favour of unidentifiable rage.

He makes the Reddit post.

He is primarily asked for additional context.

“Well. Uh. Let’s call him Stag. Has been my best friend since we defused a bomb together I don’t even know like five years ago? And he’s like the best friend I’ve ever had to the point where I’ve changed my will so that he’s the person who gets my son in the event of my untimely demise. And like! I like his boyfriend! I really do, it’s not that I’m worried that if something happens to me and Stag has to take custody of our son I’m worried about how [let’s call him Gatling] would do with our kid. He’s a cool guy and tbh we were friends first and he’d probably make a wicked stepdad to anyone’s kid, but also… okay it got late and I don’t think this is an accurate representation of the situation but! Anyway! Additional information of note being that I like both of them as people a whole bunch so the idea that I might be activating latent homophobic responses just because of either of them as people is nonsense haha.”

And he isn’t! Eddie isn’t worried about how Tommy would be as a stepdad. Really! It doesn’t even give him hives to think about dying anymore.

It takes until he wakes up in a cold sweat at three in the morning for him to realise that he doesn’t think of Buck as Chris’s stepdad. He thinks of him as Chris’s other dad, who is — who is dating someone a whole lot like Eddie — who is dating another man who isn’t Eddie — and…

And, well.

Well, fuck.

“Edit: false alarm I am not homophobic. But I AM in love with, uh, Stag even though he’s dating Gatling. How do I tell him?”

Because sometimes, asking relationship advice from complete strangers online is the only reasonable way to proceed. And Eddie can only hope, desperately, that they have the answers.

#its late I’m exhausted I haven’t written 9-1-1 fic in 2.5 years #9-1-1 #buddie #the ghost ship scribbles

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mastercherry · 1 year

Text

Reading the raunchiest, dirtiest, smuttiest, smut on the planet in public, me: 😐

Reading a single, small, tiny, miniscule, itty-bitty hint of fluff in public, me: ☺️🥰😆😝🤩🫡🥰🥹🥺😭😱🤓💖🙈🙉🙊💥💯🤌👌🙌🫶🤲☠️🤡😆😆😆🤩🤩😘😍🥰

#fanfiction #archiveofourown #archive of our own #sterek #reed900 #spideypool #harringrove #destiel #ao3 #fic #fan fic #reading #read it #read in 2023 #911 buddie #buddie

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chronicowboy · 2 months

Text

His breakup with Marisol is about as unremarkable as the rest of their relationship. There's no catastrophic muffin mess in his kitchen or divorce papers. Just a quiet I don't think this is working out, I'm sorry. Marisol hadn't even cried. She'd just nodded like she'd been waiting for it and left, didn't even need to grab anything from the house before she went and really that just reassured Eddie that this was the right choice.

So, his breakup with Marisol is unremarkable, except that it's not. It's pretty fucking remarkable when he thinks about it because it's not just that they weren't working out, not just that he really didn't care about spending time with her, not just the clench in his gut every time she touched him. No. It's pretty fucking remarkable because he realises he's in love with his best friend.

That's what pushes him over the edge, gives him the last kick he needs to actually break things off with her. Because Eddie may have sworn himself to secrecy about it the moment he realised, but he could never string someone along just because he couldn't have the real someone he wanted.

It's a fucking revelation once he has it. Not a ton of bricks, but the sun peeking out from behind the clouds on the greyest of days, bright and blinding. And the way Eddie has always thought of Buck in terms of sunshine maybe should have tipped him off sooner, but with the way Buck has been beaming over the past few weeks. Well. Eddie doesn't really think he can be blamed for only just taking his sunglasses off and daring to look directly at the light.

And, okay, so Eddie maybe makes it a full week before he decides his self-sworn secrecy absolutely is not a viable option when Buck walks through life now like a drop of sunshine in human form. It's after Buck leaves the Diaz house, walking out from a day of giggles and joy at the go-kart track they'd finally managed to convince Chris to be seen with them at, leaving behind a cosy heat like sun-warmed skin, that Eddie realises he cannot go another day without telling Buck that he's desperately, deeply in love with him.

And so, that's how Eddie finds himself at Buck's door on a random Sunday morning, knocking for the first time since Natalia waltzed out of the picture. Buck opens it a few moments later looking perfectly sleep-rumpled and soft and downright golden where he's backlit by the early morning sunlight pooling in the loft.

"Eddie," Buck breathes out, eyes darting up the stairs before refocusing on Eddie and what must be the most hopelessly lovesick expression painted across his face. "H-hey, what are you doing here?"

"I, um." Eddie takes a deep breath, suddenly nervous, and wipes his clammy palms on his jeans. "I wanted to talk to you about something. Now a good time?" And Buck must hear the slightly shaky steel in his voice because the surprise on his face morphs into a concern so quintessentially Buck that Eddie just wants to kiss it away.

"Y-yeah, of course, come on in." Buck holds the door open for him, and Eddie migrates to the fridge as Buck closes the door with the gentlest touch. "So, um, what's up?"

"I..." Eddie swallows against the heart in his throat, loses himself in the shining blue of Buck's eyes like an ocean he'd be more than happy to drown in. "I broke up with Marisol last week."

"Oh, Eddie." Buck slumps, and Eddie tries not to think that it looks a little like relief. "I'm so sorry, man. That sucks."

"No, no." Eddie waves him off with a laugh. "It's good. Was a long time coming actually." He shakes his head at himself. "I think I was dating her just to tick a box, you know? Realised you probably shouldn't be more excited about a phone call from your new buddy than one from your kinda long-term girlfriend. You definitely shouldn't be relieved when you see your best friend in the restaurant you're taking her to and disappointed when you realise he's just leaving."

And then, Buck blushes, ducks his head, does that little smile that could light up every house on South Bedford Street just like Eddie had been hoping for.

"Yeah." Buck looks up at him from under his lashes. "Probably not."

It bolsters Eddie. Buck's sunshine giving him that one last push he needs.

"There was something else I wanted to say," Eddie starts. And there isn't really any fear in him, knows they'll make it through this no matter what, just an overwhelming sense of peace to come. "I..." A deep breath, gathering all his love and devotion in his lungs so it's ready to pour out on his next inhale and—

A groan from upstairs has the words dying in his throat. A masculine groan. And then:

"Evan?"

"D-down here," Buck calls back.

Eddie can't take his eyes off the loft, stuck there like a car crash he can't look away from as a very shirtless Tommy Kinard appears at the top of the stairs and quickly blanches.

"Shit. Um..." He looks down at Buck in a panic.

Eddie finally manages to drag his eyes away from the very chiselled curveball that just hit him at a hundred miles per hour and finds Buck's face. Small, scared, shaken. He knows the feeling. And because he loves Buck, because of just how deeply he loves Buck, it's the easiest thing in the world to lock that love away and let his face crack into the most genuine of grins. Because if Tommy's been the thing making Buck shine like every fucking star in the sky, well Eddie will absolutely not be getting between them.

"You've been so happy," Eddie chokes out, still smiling.

"I have," Buck whispers.

"And I'm so happy for you." Eddie covers the distance between them in three long strides and pulls Buck into a hug so tight and clinging he's sure it's a confession in and of itself, but Buck only buries in deeper, taking shaky little breaths in the crook of Eddie's neck.

"Thank you," Buck murmurs into his skin. Eddie squeezes his eyes shut against the sudden rush of tears.

"Sorry you didn't get to tell me on your own terms," he murmurs back, letting Buck pull away, but lingering with a hand on his hip, on his shoulder. He should maybe be worried about what this could look like to Tommy who had basically never heard anything apart from rambles about Buck, except when he glances up the stairs, Tommy is nowhere to be seen.

"I was going to tell you," Buck rushes out. "I-I just wasn't sure how."

"That's okay," Eddie says. It's okay. It's okay. "Well, I'll stop gate-crashing for the... Second time?" He raises an eyebrow, and Buck flushes a pink Eddie will never ever get to taste. "Yeah, okay. That makes sense." He remembers the pure fear on Buck's face, the indecision on Tommy's and the sudden tightening of his own chest despite his smile. "I'll leave you guys to it." He clears his throat. "Kinard, if you hurt him, they'll never find your body," he shouts up the stairs.

"Copy that, Diaz," Tommy shouts back.

"I'm really proud of you, Buck." Eddie wraps him in another hug then, a quick thing, just one last touch before Eddie seals every desire away for good.

"Thanks, Eddie." Buck walks him to the door, eyes glistening with unshed tears, and Eddie wants to hug him again. Wants so badly it hurts. But if he hugs Buck again, he doesn't think he'll ever let go. "See you at work tomorrow."

"See you at work." Eddie prays Buck is too distracted to hear the wobble in his voice.

"Wait, sorry, what did you want to talk about?"

Eddie freezes on the threshold, the stutter of his heart painful like he's back in a suit store, and he catches himself on the doorframe with a shaking hand.

"It can wait."

#sami rambles #sami? writing? who is she?#anyway i wrote this in the 15 minutes i had before i had to leave this morning so it's bad #but i couldn't get the idea out of my head so.#eddie diaz #evan buckley #buck x eddie #buddie #911 spec #tommy kinard #911 fic #911 ficlet #buck x tommy #bucktommy #buddie ficlet #911 spec fic #<- not really but technically i guess. idk just to be safe and sure.

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