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naffeclipse · 10 months

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I don't know when I'll ever write this, but I've had this AU in the back of my mind ever since Bendy and the Dark Revival came out, and it's best to get it out of my head before it festers and rots.

More or less, it's BatDR and the DCA smashed into one. The premise is that you are an animator at Fazbear Studios and Sun and Moon are humans who go by Cyrus and Mani respectively, employed as voice actors. (First AU with human Sun and Moon whoo! don't get attached though) Vanessa is a janitor who is a bit odd, mostly keeping to herself though sometimes you feel like she's starting at your back when you're alone.

Cyrus and Mani perform as extras in the Fazbear cartoon, adding supporting voices for side characters and miscellaneous lines. Cyrus often supplies humorous, wacky, and surreal voices to his performances. Mani tends to get villainous or spooky characters with his deeper, raspier voice. They both enjoy what they do and love that they can work together as brothers.

You can't help but notice Cyrus and Mani. You admire their skill, their passion, and their smiles, and you sometimes even work up the courage to wave at Cyrus or Mani whenever one of the brothers happens to pass by your work desk.

They inspire you—not just with their work, but with their small acts of care. You find coffee on your desk when you return from a meeting with the other animators with a little smiling sun doodled on the cup. Sometimes, Cyrus asks you to join him on a walk since it's your lunch break and you could really use some sunshine and a chance to stretch your legs. When it gets far too late and you're burning the midnight oil, Mani is somehow always there, doing a funny voice to surprise you with a little reminder that it's past your bedtime. He leaves you little treats in blue wrappers, hidden in places on your desk, among your ink and papers.

It's not a surprise that you start drawing a character for them in your rare off hours when you still have the energy to hold a pencil. The Fazbear cartoon could add a new, permanent character. A robotic jester, lanky and tall, but with two forms for the day and night, funny and sweet and mischievous. Cyrus and Mani could both voice him!

That's silly, however. Fazbear Studios does not want your chaotic and half-brained scribbles nor do you dare show the brothers what they inspired—they might hate it. You keep your little jester character tucked away, along with a small doodle of a minor, nobody, gray character who may or may not be a tag along to the main act that is the jester. Your sketches and concept art are hidden away, far from where the light of day or the shine of night will ever see.

It goes missing one day. You're upset and asking everyone who went through your desk. No one confesses. Cyrus tells you that it'll be okay, he'll help you find it. Mani suggests that you keep locks on your drawers from now on.

It's never found, not that you wanted either of them to stumble upon it. Yet, they stay late with you after everyone has gone home, looking for your precious and secretive sketchbook through the many departments of the studio.

Somewhere along the way, Cyrus disappears, promising to return with your sketchbook. You lose Mani in the audio department before, oh, there's Vanessa. She tells you to come to the basement with her—she found your notebook. You're relieved but a little put off by Vanessa and reluctantly follow her down into the dark.

You don't find your sketchbook, but you do find Cyrus slumped against the wall, blood trickling down his temple, and a strange collection of shrines to one of the studio's cartoon characters.

Before you can rush to his side, pain explodes in your skull, cracking white across your vision. You fall to the ground, dazed, as Vanessa gives a cryptic promise to return with the last sacrifice. You manage to crawl across the floor in your pitiful state to reach Cyrus and attempt to revive him, but by then, Mani is walking in. His shock overtakes him but he dodges a swipe of Vanessa's wrench and starts struggling against her. You try desperately to drag Cyrus somewhere safe as he murmurs for you to get out of here, but in the middle of Vanessa's and Mani's fight, she flips a switch and ink begins filling the room.

The black flood sweeps Cyrus away from you. Pages spill out from the inside of Vanessa's vest, dozens of sketches of your jester character. You cry out. Mani looks to you. Vanessa at last shoves Mani into the surge of onyx liquid beside Cyrus, and you watch both of them go under together. You scream their names. She turns to you, grinning.

The last thing you remember is Vanessa shoving your head into the ink.

Then it's the only thing you remember. You're vaguely aware that your jet-black hands are strange and shiny, and that you don't know where you are in this sepia-colored studio, but you know something's not right. You're missing someone, and someone else. You're scared.

You wander around for a bit until you're attacked by monsters emerging from the ink, shrieking and wailing in gluey dark forms until a wonderful and terrifying automaton arrives. He destroys such a creature about to tear you apart. He stands so tall, detailed with sharp teeth and even sharper sun rays around his large, flat face, but you think you recognize those yellow eyes—a living cartoon.

He helps you calm down and asks for your name in a loud and funny voice that rings like a bell in your mind but you can't name the tune. You don't remember your name. He doesn't remember his either. He leads you away from the harsher spaces of the studio, somewhere 'safer'. You don't know if there is anything as safe, but you feel better with him.

You're startled when after a time, in the middle of talking to this sunshine character, he melts and morphs and bubbles until a crescent moon face emerges and a new grin. You panic before a darker, raspier voice, like a cartoon villain, tells you it's alright. He's here, too. He's not sure what's going on but he, and the other 'him', and you are gonna make it out of here, somehow.

You don't have hope anywhere else but in this unique robot jester, and he seems to want you to stay close to him. So it's you two, the last sane partnership in the crazed and dripping studios, fighting off ink creatures and surviving other bizarre characters. You learn how to wield a gent pipe and the jester is strong on his own, often able to tear things apart or toss monsters off of you before they can do worse. He has claws and teeth and he uses them well.

Vanny is a lady rabbit and a constant threat. She's smart and cunning, unlike the other mostly senseless attackers. She keeps tracking the two of you down and spouting off the religious rhetoric of Inktrap, promising that your sacrifices will be well worth the pain. You had to be introduced to the cycle. The ink has corrupted you perfectly. You are part of this place. You are never leaving and will give in to Inktrap.

You and he avoid Inktrap at all costs. You've only caught glimpses of the shadowy, pitch-black beast, but that's all you need to see as you both hide and hold your breaths until the danger just barely passes by.

You start to call the daytime jester Sun, and he seems to respond to it. The nighttime joker is Moon, and he neither hates nor loves it, but he answers when you call. He has a name for you, too, or rather names. Peach, bird, thrill, calico, and sweetheart. He gets creative and goofy. You think he's being mean sometimes but he tells you he's not, he means it, and you don't know how to take that before you two have to focus on escaping this part of the studio and getting into safer areas. You protect his back and he protects yours, and together, you make this living, unending nightmare bearable. Sharing bacon soup, falling asleep in Moon's lap, and patching up any drips in Sun's inky form becomes something like a life.

It just never stops, repeating over and over. The jester deserves better than this, whatever happened to him. You know you both do.

You become determined to learn how the cycle works and how to prevent it from going on. There's a funny feeling you have that, somehow, you're going to have to go through Vanny and the Inkdemon. One day, you will get the jester and yourself free.

You need to see his and your happy ending.

#sidenote: cyrus is pronounced cy-rus and mani is pronounced mah-ni not manny #also their last name is Sterle but i don't know if that would ever come up #sorry that's all i'm gonna put here as a sort of summary #there's a dramatic ending with the jester saving your life but it comes at a price of merging with inktrap #and that's when eclipse comes out to play #but despite looking as terrifying as he is now and fighting for control #he still loves you! (whoops he wasn't supposed to say that last part out loud)#The Jester and the Tagalong #bendy and the dark revival FNAF AU #this goes out to wynnibee for reminding me this was buried in my drafts!

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doodlingbot · 2 months

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What if your MK V model was designed by a bunch of highschoolers?

[AU]

#nsr #no straight roads #nsr au #party all night #doodles #my art #I know it's supposed to be deep web(?) but I can't not think of it as a website/app's dark mode. They even turn the brightness down !#I'll do an au summary master post. one of these days. when I collect my thoughts enough to not have it sound so hectic.#nsr doods #1010 doods

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mishapen-dear · 8 months

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oh im gonna be SO annoying about bbh in a minute. i keep saying the same thing over and over again but his character is too fucking complex motherfucker is like:

"i'm a demon who is 11,000 years old and i refuse to acknowledge that im a demon nor that i do bad things (like steal furniture) but i will help people every chance i get despite saying im going to stop doing that and i am going to devote my life to protecting these fragile little eggs even though i know im going to lose them one day because i love them too much (and i know i can do that and it will one day be okay, because i have an immortal diamond to keep me company even if he isn't here now). when my friend throws himself beneath the spokewheel of the federation i will be there, bitter about my loss, but i will not start a revolution until he proves he deserves one. i will do what i can to safeguard his system against corruption because i am afraid the federation will use him to hurt us. i know he doesn't want to hurt us. he keeps hurting me. he is isolated by our distrust in him and he is still working hard to try to be a good person in an inherently corrupt system that cannot be fixed so i will build him a statue. i will not kill him when he takes a picture of me in the presidential chair (that was almost mine) and puts it on his wall and calls me 'employee of the month.' i didn't do all of that work for the federation i did it for him like i do it for others because they are my friends. i will exhaust every option i have to build a reason to NOT start a revolution. to not kill him. because i have to say that i tried. i feel like i have made so many compromises. i have held myself back to try to find reason. i will still remove his access to my base. when the island turns against me and he locks me in a cage for a crime i did not commit, i will remove everyone's access (except for my family the french and my family the eggs). i am having fun. when the eggs appear the next day with cracks and dirty shells i will worry, but i know they're strong. they'll be okay. (when i find my son's secret lab and his unethical experiments that cause him harm i will be proud because he has done what i do. he has helped. i want him to be safe but we are never safe and i trust him more than anyone else. i know now, and i can help him be safe.) when the eggs go missing i will be silent. i will look for them, and i will destroy for them, and i will bargain for them, and i will cry for them, and i will not accept their loss. when my friend who is president who once built a safehouse that saved my eggs' lives is finally damaged by the federation (like i knew he would be when he became president) and he starts to hurt people by pushing the same treatment onto them i will not be surprised. i will be surprised when he tries to marry me. i will not blame him (much) when he tries to kill me. our children are missing. he is forced to pretend that his is not. i wish i could too. i will not tell him yes or no because i need an open avenue to manipulate him (because to save him i will have to manipulate him). i will not marry him because he is out of his mind. i have said marriage is overrated. i have also said that i want to live with him in a house with our kids and my skeppy. when he tells me that he wants to be happy with me i will still say 'aw' because it is the most genuine thing he has said to me and i miss my friend. i will still try to kill him. i fail to kill him with someone else's plan. i don't place a block to lock him in place. i hesitate. it doesn't matter if it's on purpose because the next plan works. i will reveal an item that could destroy me to my closest allies (and tubbo) because it will let us save him. we save him. when he kills himself 18 times over i back away from the explosion in surprise and then step close again. while i have grieved i have thrown myself into mines. it doesn't matter. i am numb and want to feel something. everything has lost colour. we save him.

i visit federation workers and ask them about my eggs and they do not tell me anything. i know they are lying. i visit the graveyard to talk to my lost eggs. i have lost all of the eggs. i do not know how to save them. i lay in the mud. it rains and rain signifies the monster has returned to kill my children but my children are not here and so i do not care. when i go home i will become so angry and i will go down to my basement (which i have locked like my friend locked the entrance to his greatest fantasy. we are so alike and our delusions are different. he child was real; here is the secret to finding my children) where i have locked a federation worker away. i will not wash away the blood stains.

i am also part-time grim reaper and i only ever dress up in robes to make people drink more water."

#this was supposed to be a quick summary of his character. help.#this is a quick warning about the other bigger post i am writing about him and how his Whole Deal and World View is and why he's being so #soft with forever despite the Nightmare Horrors #to put it more simply: he's built different #qsmp #bbh #q badboyhalo #qsmp character analysis #<- more like qsmp character 'here is everything about this character but hang on there's even More'#HELLPPPPP IM IN THE TRENCHESSSS #did you know there's a 4096 character limit on a block of text. guess how i found that out #but everything is SO IMPORTANT to how he reacts to everything else #he holds grudges like nobody's business but he's also a hypocrite and plays favourites #he's stubborn and Chooses enemies and friends and there are always lines to cross but he understands context #and the forever thing has the context of bad looking at him and going 'i know what you're feeling. i know why you're doing this.'#'i know i would be worse'

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thetarttfuldickhead · 7 months

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Fic: Roy & Jamie & and that time when Jamie was NOT in a car crash

With ten minutes left until training officially began and still no sign of Jamie, there were a few raised eyebrows and murmurs and Isaac telling Will to put the player down for a 100 quid fine, but no one thought to be worried. People ran late, sometimes. Not usually Jamie, no, but Colin figured there was a first time for everything. Besides, he was busy listening to Bumbercatch explain the intricacies of post-Brexit labour shortages and the way it served to reproduce notions of capitalist realism, none of which Colin understood, but Bumbercatch was at his fittest when he was passionate and mysterious so Colin hung on to his every word all the same.

When Roy stepped into the dressing room a little while later and noticed the distinct lack of number 9 and rang Jamie to demand where the hell he was only to receive no answer, a slight sense of unease settled over the room, though Colin suspected that had more to to with the sinister look on Coach’s face rather than any real fear that Jamie might be in danger (at least not until he showed up and had to deal with Coach anyway).

And then they heard about the car crash.

---

It was Sam who – always eager to play peacemaker, bless him – checked his phone to see if Jamie had left any messages in the group chat to explain his absence, and Sam who went very quiet and stared at his screen in silence for so long that everyone else fell silent too and turned to stare at him. Never a good sign, that sort of silence in the dressing room.

“Yo, bruv, he write something?” Isaac asked when it became apparent that Sam was not going to volunteer whatever information he had found.

“No, nothing,” Sam said. “But… “

“But fucking what?” Roy demanded, words sharp and jagged like broken glass.

“There’s been a car crash,” Sam’s voice was quiet and slow and reluctant. “A big one, not far from Jamie’s house. At least two people are dead, and several injured. It doesn’t say anything about Jamie,” he quickly added into the collective intake of horrified breath. “I’m sure he’s perfectly fine.”

“Yeah,” Thierry agreed quickly. “He probably just got delayed because it caused a traffic jam or something.”

Eager nods around room, and Colin found himself nodding along because of course that was the most reasonable explanation, of course Jamie hadn’t— he wasn’t—

“But then why didn’t he pick up his phone?” Bumbercatch asked. “Or call to say he’d be late?”

A relevant question, and as with most of Moe’s questions, without a ready answer.

“We would have heard, wouldn’t we?” Nate suggested uneasily. “I mean, they would have called, if— “

He didn’t finish the sentence. No one else spoke.

Trying to distract himself from the quickly growing pit in his stomach, Colin turned his gaze on Roy, who had gone so still that he didn’t even seem to be breathing. His face was a blank mask, utterly devoid of any emotion, but his fists were clenched so tight that Colin’s own hands twinged in sympathy.

“I’ll go talk to Higgins,” Beard said abruptly, breaking the fraught silence.

“Yeah, no, that’s a great idea,” Nate quickly chimed in. Like Colin, he’d been eyeing Roy nervously. “He’ll know what—“

The door slammed open. Jamie rushed inside. “Sorry, sorry I’m late,” he called as he dumped his bag on the bench by his cubby and started pulling his vest off, “been this massive car accident, was stuck for ages and then the road was closed off so I had to go round and— Eh?“

Cockburn, by virtue of being closest, had pulled Jamie into a tight hug, and the rest of the players immediately closed in to follow suit, Colin among them. In his relief he wasn’t sure whether to kiss Jamie or smack him on the head for worrying them, and in the end he settled for briefly squeezing his neck. Jamie grinned at him, at all of them, looking a little bemused but very much delighted by the attention.

“Fucking hell, lads,” he laughed. “Thought I’d be getting a fine, not a fucking group hug. Realized how dull training would be without me, huh?”

“You are getting a fine,” Isaac told him, even as he put his arm around Jamie’s shoulder and shook him gently. “But we’re fucking happy you’re here, yeah?”

“We thought you had died in the car crash,” Jan explained.

“Sí, amigo, we were so worried for you!”

“Oh! Yeah, no, I’m fine, I’m fine. Not fucking Colin, am I? I don’t get into any car crashes.” He caught Colin’s eye and winked, sticking his tongue out like the utter tosser he was and Colin rolled his eyes and was so, so stupidly happy the idiot was there to be annoying.

Eventually, after everyone had gotten to hug Jamie or pat him on the back or ruffle his hair (to his loud but clearly half-hearted protests), the team drifted back to their own cubbies, happily chatting amongst themselves—

— leaving Roy standing on the middle of the floor, staring at Jamie with a look on his face that had Colin take an involuntary step backwards. Their gaffer did not look relieved. In fact, he looked absolutely murderous.

“Why the fuck,” he intoned, emphasizing each word, “did you not fucking call to say you were fucking late? And why the fuck did you not answer your fucking phone?”

The tone of voice would have had anyone with even an ounce of self-preservation running for cover if directed at them, but Jamie just blinked. “Oh, er, left it at home, didn’t I? Already had it in me black bag, right, only I realized the tan one went better with this outfit so I grabbed that instead, but I forgot about the phone ‘cause I was in a bit of a rush, yeah?” He shrugged a little sheepishly. “It was stupid. Sorry about that.”

“Oh, you’re sorry about that, are you? Do you have any fucking idea—“ Taking a step closer, getting right up into Jamie’s face, Roy launched into a dressing-down of such volume and viciousness Colin was convinced it had the walls vibrating. Even by Roy Kent’s considerable standards, it was a lot and it lasted for well over a minute until Roy growled, “If you’re not out on the pitch running laps in two minutes you won’t have to worry about getting into any car crashes going home ‘cause you’ll be here all night, running ‘til you fucking drop in your own puke, got it?”

Initially, Jamie had seemed slightly taken aback by Roy’s furious remonstration, but then something that looked strangely like understanding passed over his face and he settled into a determined stoicism, neither talking back nor looking cowed. By the end of it, though, there was definitively barely suppressed anger glinting in his gray eyes, leaving Colin worried he might snap and then they’d have a full-on brawl on their hands, just like back in the bad old days when Roy and Jamie well and truly hated each others’ guts and wouldn’t that be exactly the sort of fun they all wanted on a Tuesday?

He gave a sigh of relief (and could hear Richard do the same just next to him) when Jamie just offered a curt, “yes, Coach,” and set to getting changed at an appropriately hurried speed.

“And fucking apologize to your teammates for delaying training!” Roy barked.

“We’d be out there already if you hadn’t spent the last hour shouting at me,” Jamie muttered to the boot he was tying.

“The fuck did you say?”

“Nothing, Coach. Sorry, everyone.” He looked up. “Really am,” he added, sounding quite sincere about it. “Didn’t mean to hold you up or, you know, worry you or nothing.”

---

Training was an awkward and quietly tense affair. Once Jamie had finished his laps and was allowed to join the rest of them, Roy pointedly and resolutely ignored him, refusing to so much as spare him a glance while the team muddled through the day’s exercises and scrimmage.

Jamie, for his part, seemed utterly determined not to give a shit. He went through the drills as diligently as ever, dribbled and passed and shot with his usual flair, shouting encouragements and slapping Colin’s butt after a particularly good free kick. For all intents and purposes, it was just another day at the job for Jamie Tartt – but Colin saw the looks he kept shooting Roy when he thought no one was watching, and he noticed how Jamie didn’t just play well but played brilliantly, stubbornly lining up one little footie miracle after another on the pitch. He wasn’t being a prick about it either, prompting Colin to mutter to Isaac: “Looks like Jamie’s trying to get back on Roy’s good side by going for player of the year.”

Isaac glanced over at Jamie, then shook his head in dismissal. “Nah, bruv,” he said. “He ain’t trying to appease the gaffer. Sticking it to him, innit.”

“Oh. Okay.” Colin frowned. That… didn’t make a lot of sense, really, but Isaac usually knew what he was talking about, and it wasn’t like Colin begrudged Jamie a little bit of pushback, not after the way Roy had chewed him out in front of everyone. It was just that, if this escalated and the two of them got into it properly, the way they used to back when Roy was still the captain rather than the coach… Well. It’d be a shit time for everyone. Colin could do without it. They could all do without it.

Not that that sort of consideration had ever stopped either Roy or Jamie before.

On the other side of the pitch, Jamie threw himself down in a bicycle kick that saw the ball soar right past two defender’s and Thierry’s outstretched hands.

“Whistle,” Roy snapped. “Training’s fucking over.”

---

“Oi! Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

Colin, with Dani, Jeff and Jamie in tow, had almost made it out of the dressing room, freshly showered and changed and very ready to put the training session behind them, when Roy’s bark brought them to abrupt heel. Dani stopped so suddenly that Jeff almost walked straight into him, and Colin himself accidentally elbowed Jamie when he startled at the sudden roar.

You’d think they’d be more than used to Roy’s yelling by now, Colin thought. Then again, he supposed it’d been a strange day and they were all a little on edge. Jumpy.

“We’re going to my place, Coach,” he quickly offered, hoping to stave off another round of shouting. “To play some FIFA.” He briefly considered inviting Roy to join them, it would only be polite, right, and could be good for morale maybe, but he was held back by the notion that the gaffer might say yes.

“Tartt isn’t,” Roy informed him curtly.

Jamie cocked his head to the side. “I’m not?” Definitively a hint of challenge in his tone, and Jesus, this was all going to go straight to hell, wasn’t it? And after they’d almost made it out of here, too.

Roy was unmoved; unyielding as stone. “No, you’re coming with me so I can keep an eye on you since you’re too much of a fucking child to be trusted on your own.”

For a moment, the two men simply stared at each other, both faces shadowed by stubborn scowls. Colin realized he was holding his breath, and glanced over at Isaac getting ready for dinner with his parents in front of the mirror to check if he, as captain, was maybe planning to step in and deescalate the situation. How he was going to do that Colin had no idea; he wasn’t the captain.

Isaac said nothing, though, just watched the exchange with an unreadable expression. Figures, Colin thought a little sourly; his friend was utter shit at keeping secrets but could pull inscrutable like nobody’s business when it suited him.

“Fine.” In the end, Jamie relented with an exaggerated sigh. “But I’m taking me own car, which I have, what with me not actually being in a car crash today and all.”

Roy looked furious at that, as if Jamie’s lack of fiery death in a burning inferno was somehow a personal insult to him, but then he pressed his lips together and jerked his head in a sharp t nod. “Fine.”

He spun around and stalked away, leaving Jamie rolling his eyes and muttering Jesus fucking Christ you overdramatic grumpy fuck under his breath. Then he turned to the rest of them and shrugged. “Sorry, lads. Another time, yeah?”

Dani made a small, unhappy sound. Colin exchanged a look with Jeff, who looked about as unsure and uncomfortable as Colin felt. Over on the other side of the room, Isaac was still quiet, potentially a sign to the others to keep out of it as well, but in spite of that Colin found himself compelled to ask: “Boyo, do you want us to… talk to Coach?”

It was a mildly terrifying idea, and it very much went against the unspoken agreement that nobody interfere with the continued absurdity that was Roy and Jamie’s relationship these days. But, today had been weird in a way that seemed to have little enough to do with training, extracurricular or otherwise. A particular kind of weird, even for these two. Besides, his whole idea of an impromptu game night had been, at least in part, a bid to cheer Jamie up after all that, and it seemed a shame that he’d miss it for more of the same.

Jamie, however, waved his hand dismissively. “Nah, mate, it’s fine.”

He looked like he meant it, too. There was a frown on his face, sure, but as far as Colin could tell it spoke more of mild annoyance than actual upset or worry.

“But forgetting your phone was a simple mistake, and it is not your fault you were late. It’s not right that Coach should keep punishing you for it.” Sam, who had declined FIFA in favour of being a responsible restaurant owner (“and bad fucking flirt, it’s been almost a year mate, why haven’t you asked her out yet?”), had walked over from his locker and was eyeing Jamie with customarily earnest concern.

Jamie just shrugged.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, and off their worried stares added, “He’s not going to do anything bad or anything. It’s just, I fucking scared him, right, and he’s being a twat about it ‘cause he’s an idiot who doesn’t know how to have feelings properly and he’s only been in therapy for like three months and it’ll probably take a year for anything Dr. Sharon says to go through his big stupid head, yeah? That’s all.”

Which. Okay. Colin could see how the prospect of Jamie actually dying might scare even Roy, but on the other hand… it was Roy. Roy Kent. And besides—

“I don’t know, man, he didn’t seem scared,” Jeff ventured.

“No, amigo, he seemed like he wanted to rip your head off,” Dani helpfully filled in. “And maybe use it as a football.”

“Yeah, because he’s a twat,” Jamie said. “But it’ll be fine, I promise. Probably just wants to make me dinner or something.”

Colin blinked. That… was a leap. Even by Jamie’s particular kind of logic, that was definitively a leap.

“He’s right.” Oh, so now Isaac decided to speak up. “Roy’s not mad at Jamie, he’s mad because he was frightened.”

Jamie raised his eyebrows meaningfully and pointed at their captain. “Yeah, that. So don’t worry.” Adjusting his cap he shot Colin a cheeky wink. “Whoever plays me better score a fuckton of goals tonight, yeah? See you tomorrow, lads.”

And he was out the door, fucking humming as he went. Doing that Jamie Tartt thing of untouchable and unshakeable confidence and you think you can get to me? Nothing ever gets to me and even now that Colin knew Jamie wasn’t quite as invulnerable as all that, some of the old awe and jealousy stirred, mixed with concerned incredulity.

“Is it just me,” he asked after a protracted moment, “or are those two getting even weirder?”

“It’s not just you,” Jeff muttered.

“Don’t worry, my friend,” Dani promised brightly, “I will play Richmond tonight and score a fuckton of goals and I will crush you for the sake of our amigo Jamie.”

Colin sighed. “Fantastic.”

At least he’d have the comfort of knowing that getting trashed by Dani Rojas was still far, far better than whatever cruel and unusual punishment Roy had planned for Jamie.

---

Jamie leaned back against Roy’s surprisingly comfortable couch and let out a small sigh of contentment. He wondered whether he ought to be still annoyed with Roy for being a massive wanker or pleased with himself for how utterly he’d called this. He settled for alternating between the two; he was complex like that. People didn’t know it, but he had depths.

Roy hadn’t tried to make him run a marathon or do a million burpees or whatever Colin and the rest had imagined. He hadn’t yelled. Hadn’t said much at all, really, since Jamie stepped through the front door without knocking; mostly he’d glared and grunted and used those funny little head jerks to communicate that Jamie should sit down and be quiet and drink the water Roy put in front of him.

Jamie had sat down and drunk the water. He had not been quiet. He’d watched the Spurs game on the telly last night and he had opinions relevant to their upcoming match against them, which by rights should interest the gaffer and if it didn’t, too fucking bad.

Roy hadn’t told him to shut up.

Instead, he’d made them dinner (fucking called it), a nutritionist approved salmon pasta with saffron and fennel that Jamie was particularly fond of, and then sent Jamie off to the couch while he did the washing up. He hadn’t said a word about Jamie’s choice of entertainment either, when he appeared a little while later with two steaming cups of tea and found the telly turned on to an old episode of Doctor Who. The show had been a staple of Jamie’s early teens and remained a nostalgic comfort; just a bit of silly fun, really, and so naturally something Roy fucking loathed, sad old fuck that he was.

Normally even the suggestion of watching it (or anything else even halfway interesting) would have been met with foul-mouthed refusal and something about Roy’s house, Roy’s rules, but tonight Roy just put the tea down wordlessly and sat down next to Jamie, as on the screen Martha, Jack and the Tenth Doctor (fittest of them all, although Jamie had a soft spot for Eleven) narrowly escaped an exploding flat.

Jamie smiled to himself. For all Roy was utter shit at saying stuff, he could be fucking transparent at times.

It had been dead obvious when Roy’s anger finally and fully faded, and guilt started trickling in to fill the void. It was right there in the way Roy went all the way quiet and started shooting him little looks out of the corner of his eye when he thought Jamie wouldn’t notice throughout dinner; there in the way he sat down far closer to Jamie than he normally would on the couch now, their legs all but touching.

It was as blatant an invitation as you could ever expect from Roy Kent, and tempting, but Jamie stubbornly held himself to himself, upright and with his arms crossed over his chest. Roy had been a right proper arsehole today and he hadn’t even said sorry so if he wanted a cuddle he could fucking ask for one, or he could wait until Jamie felt inclined to indulge him.

Eventually, though, after what Jamie deemed an appropriate amount of time (which may or may not have amounted to two whole minutes), he relented and allowed himself to lean against Roy, casual like, and tipping his head to rest Roy’s shoulder.

He smirked at how Roy not only failed to ask what the fuck he thought he was doing but also was very quick to put a tentative arm around his shoulders, the grip growing firmer when Jamie didn’t shrug him off or ask him what the fuck he thought he was doing.

For a while there was only that; the warmth of Roy’s body pressed into his; the sounds of the television. I love it when you say my name, the Master declared.

“I’m sorry about today,” Roy said suddenly. The words came haltingly, reluctantly. Still, he pressed on. “I … fucking overreacted.”

Jamie snorted. “Little bit, yeah.” Then he added, not bothering to conceal his smugness, “All the lads think you were dead mean to me.”

He glanced up at Roy who was determinedly staring at the telly while his eyebrows were doing something complicated and seemingly painful. “I think that… maybe… I got a bit… fucking worried, when we thought you’d been in that car crash.”

He offered like it was some great admission, a grand fucking reveal, and Jamie rolled his eyes. “Uh, yeah, mate, I know.”

Roy’s eyes snapped to his face at that, all disbelieving like, so Jamie rolled his eyes again, even harder. “Come on, man. Pretty obvious, that.”

For a long moment, Roy didn’t respond. He looked away from Jamie again. Then finally, “It wasn’t obvious to me.”

And the thing was, Roy sounded so fucking unhappy about it that Jamie clamped his mouth shut around a reflexive no, but you’re an idiot.

“Maybe something for Dr. Sharon, yeah,” he suggested instead, noting with some satisfaction that he was being really mature about all of this.

He’d have liked pointing that out to Roy, too, but had a feeling that maybe that would take away from the maturity a little. He’d mention it to Keeley later instead.

“Yeah,” Roy said after a moment of looking like he’d rather let Isaac kick a football straight at his head. “I’ll talk to her.”

“And maybe fucking apologize to my teammates for delaying training,” Jamie added innocently, feeling a smirk tug at his lips and then blossom into a full-fledged grin when Roy pulled back a little to stare at him, seemingly trying to gauge whether he was serious or not.

“You’re a prick,” Roy said eventually, relaxing again and sounding right fond about it.

“Mmmhm,” Jamie agreed happily, pulling his feet up on the couch and curling up closer to Roy. It was nice, this. Worth all that, maybe. “And here you are, fucking glad I’m not dead and all.”

Roy sighed. His arm around Jamie’s shoulder was warm and solid.

“Yeah,” he said, quietly enough that they might both pretend it wasn’t meant for Jamie’s ears at all. “I am.”

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batbabydamian · 3 months

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DC May 2024 Solicitations - Comics Featuring Damian! 🦇

BATMAN #147

5/7/2024

Written by Chip Zdarsky

Art and Cover by Jorge Jimenez

Variant Covers: Kendra “Kukka” Lim (1:25), Stevan Subic (1:50), Jorge Jimenez, Yasmine Putri

With no allies, no weapons, and almost no hope...can Batman fight back before Zur makes a true devil's bargain? The world is about to know Zur's true power! Him and.. his new sidekick? "Dark Prisons" continues!

BATMAN AND ROBIN #9

5/14/2024

Written by Joshua Williamson

Art and Cover by Simone Di Meo

Variant Covers: Gleb Melnikov, Howard Porter, Simone Di Meo (1:25), Ivan Tao(?)

Who will be Gotham's true protector? The people of Gotham will decide! While his father fights for his life, Damian now knows Shush's secrets, and it's only created more problems for him as a high school student and as Robin! Can the Dynamic Duo find each other before it's too late?

THE BOY WONDER #1 of 5

5/7/2024

Written by Juni Ba

Art and Cover by Juni Ba

Variant Cover: Cliff Chiang, Juni Ba (1:25)

The young prince Damian Wayne was raised to be the heir to the fearsome League of Assassins -to follow in the footsteps of his deadly mother, Talia, and the Demon's Head himself, his grandfather Ra's al Ghul. But everything changed when his father, the Batman, reclaimed him and brought him back to Gotham City. As Robin, young Damian suddenly discovered he was merely one of a number of princes, preceded in the role by his "brothers" Nightwing, Red Hood, and Red Robin...and Damian doesn't care to be merely anything. But when his father is forced to leave the city on urgent business, and a rash of abductions is accompanied by whispers of a demon stalking Gotham's dark alleys, Damian will find himself battling alongside his adoptive brothers- and in the process, learning what the mantle of Robin really means! Visionary writer/artist Juni Ba makes his mark on the timeless story of Batman and Robin, synthesizing the characters' complex history into an accessible and heartrending fairy tale!

WONDER WOMAN #9

5/21/2024

Written by Tom King

Art and Cover by Daniel Sampere

Variant Covers: Julian Totino Tedesco, Stjepan Seijic, Irvin Rodriguez (1:25)

The ultimate test! As Sovereign's grip on Wonder Woman's psyche tightens, she retreats into the arms of Steve Trevor. Will their love for the ages prove victorious over the web of Amazon lies weaved in Man's World? Plus, Trinity lets the dogs out!

#baby bat sighting #damian wayne #fearing Damian under Zdarsky again but at least we get more Jorge Jimenez Damian 😭#Ivan Tao’s listed as the 1:25 variant for B&R but i only see Di Meo’s Nika design cover for it? i’ll edit later if nothing changes #the WW summaries are including Trinity so i’m still under the assumption super sons are part of that #they’re not mentioned so Trinity MIGHT finally be having these backups with Wonder girls instead!#still floored about Juni Ba Damian comic art...a month ago i was on his old portfolio site trying to see if he did cons or commissions #the answer is no lol but we're getting a whole comic instead!! 😭#my biggest hangup is going to be his Al Ghul intro for what's supposed to be an 'accessible' comic so this could be a problem...

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cant-think-of-anything · 4 months

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i keep thinking about what the orginal “tragic” ending of the last hours was supposed to be

#like hear me out this ending is fine and happy ish #but i really do feel like whatever the original was would’ve just felt more satisfactory?#like a genuine conclusion #everyday i wake up and wonder what alastairs ending wouldve been #was he supposed to die? was he supposed to die in the levithan attack?#what about cordelia and her whole paladin thing what was that supposed to conclude with #like I want a summary of what the original plan was I really do #the last hours #alastair carstairs #cordelia carstairs #tlh #chain of thorns

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maraleestuff · 1 year

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The Moment of Truth - My Rewrite

(A fic idea that won’t leave me alone. Features Merthur endgame but divorce first ://)

So there was Big Set Up for a Magic Reveal in 01x10, that never really amounted to anything. Will knew that Merlin could probably end the issue with Kanen before anyone could be hurt, and Hunith saw that Merlin was preparing to do what it would take to protect Ealdor, even at the cost of himself. Pre-battle, he even alluded to the potential moment. As we recall, Will took the fall as sorcerer after taking a crossbow bolt/ arrow for Arthur.

But what if things had gone differently?

At the end of one of Arthur’s speeches, and Will had been outspoken, he paced up to Merlin. He wouldn’t reveal Merlin’s magic in front of everyone, never that, but he’s still mad. “There isn’t hope, Merlin,” Will says, unaware or uncaring that Arthur is still in earshot. “Your Prince will lead all of us to our deaths.”

“He’s trying to help—“

“But it won’t be enough,” Will retorts. “You know there’s only one way to win this battle. But first, you need to stop living a lie.” It’s not fair—even Will knows this—but he’s angry that his friend had to leave, that his friend plays servant to a spoilt prince.

And he can see it in Merlin’s eyes, the way he looks at Arthur—like the man is everything, destiny and honor personified. (He can see how this love hurts his friend, too.)

He’s angry that Merlin—his Merlin—isn’t quite the same anymore, that his best friend isn’t the one who returned to Ealdor. Because Camelot changed him. Arthur fucking Pendragon changed him.

Will storms away, ignoring Merlin’s call after him, and only stops when he rounds a nearby house. When he glances back, guilt fills him at Merlin’s sad, troubled look. Will tries to ignore the way Arthur is looking at Merlin; if Will didn’t know any better, he’d say the Prince is worried.

- - -

Later, before the coming battle, Merlin’s fingers tremble as he puts on a vambrace.

By now, he’s had about half a year of experience putting armor on Arthur—but it’s awkward and almost ill-fitting on himself. Arthur stands nearby, putting on his own armor with expert ease; a soldier and a knight, prepared for battle.

But Merlin feels nothing but a certain numbness, Will’s voice echoing in his mind. There’s only one way they can prevail against Kanen—at least, without anymore death.

He knows he needs to act. But can he risk it? Can he bear to have Arthur look at him like a monster? To be executed, or exiled? Can he bear to hope?

“Here,” Arthur says, drawing Merlin from his thoughts, as he helps Merlin with his vambrace. Merlin’s fumbling fingers hadn’t been getting anywhere.

“Thanks.” Merlin’s mouth is too dry, and he feels moments from being unable to simply breathe. He’s too nervous to make a comment about Arthur helping him for a change.

“Look,” Merlin starts, when he’s able to find his voice, “whatever happens out there, I don’t want you to think any less of me.”

“It’s alright to be scared,” Arthur says, surprisingly soft. “Even the most seasoned of warriors dread battle. And you’re not a knight, you’re a—“

“A servant?” Merlin asks. With Will’s distrust of Arthur on his mind, the reminder of his station, compared to Arthur, burns all the more.

“A civilian,” Arthur states. “You aren’t a soldier.”

“I know.” Merlin was supposed to protect Arthur, but he had no training, but for being Arthur’s training dummy and a smuggled book of spells.

Merlin takes a deep breath, securing his sheath on his waist. Gwen had gifted him a sword, but it’s weight was unfamiliar. He’d need to use it, until—

“Merlin,” Arthur says, shuffling with his own sword belt, expression pensive—Merlin knows him well enough by now to know that he was unsure about what he was going to say. It’s so unlike him that Merlin pauses, frowning. “What your friend said, what did he mean by that?”

Merlin’s stomach drops. But he feigns ignorance. “By what?”

“About living a lie?”

Merlin opens his mouth, but Morgana is suddenly shoving open the front door. “They’re coming, across the river.”

“We’ll head out, at once,” Arthur says. When the door closes, Arthur looks back at Merlin expectantly, a furrow in his brow.

“Whatever I have to do, remember that we’re in Essetir, not Camelot.”

Merlin leaves before Arthur can respond.

- - -

The plan goes perfectly—until everything goes wrong.

Will stands at Merlin’s side, as he conjures a storm and friend and foe alike are thrown in chaos. The battle is over quickly, then, and Arthur storms up to them, a thunderous expression.

“I’m the sorcerer,” Merlin says, heart pounding. Simple words for such a pivotal moment.

Arthur opens his mouth, fury and hurt in his face, but Will steps forward, too. “This isn’t Camelot,” Will says, at Merlin’s side. “Merlin can’t be punished by it’s laws.”

And then, before Arthur can respond, magic rings around Merlin like alarm bells, as the last vestiges of Kanen’s men attack. Kanen, stirring on the battlefield, raises a crossbow at Arthur’s back.

“No!” Merlin surges forward, around Arthur, flicking the arrow aside like a fly. Time is slowed, like molasses, or maybe it’s Merlin who’s moving faster—he’s never learned the difference.

When time rights itself, he’s in the thick of it, parrying the sword of a bandit. Behind him, somewhere, is the clink of Arthur’s armor and Will shouting.

Someone pushes Merlin aside; a whistle of an arrow, a sickening thwack as it hits someone.

Merlin looks around frantically and pales. Will, his best friend, a brother, staggers back, an arrow protruding from his chest.

“No. No!” Merlin’s ears ring. Suddenly, Merlin is on his feet, fury in his veins—he shoves Kanen and his men back, a yell burning his throat.

He doesn’t stop to watch them fall.

“Will!” Merlin kneels at Will’s side, hands hovering. There’s so much blood. Will’s breath a wheeze. Merlin’s studied a couple of healing spells, but nothing for this. Gaius is the Physician.

He doesn’t know what to do.

“Just hang on, just try to breathe,” Merlin tries to soothe, and he rambles more, but he isn’t totally sure what he’s saying.

Someone helps him get Will inside his house, on a table, but Merlin isn’t sure who. He doesn’t stop to glance. Arthur says something, but Merlin doesn’t hear it. Footsteps fade, and he’s alone with Will, his hand oddly cold, as Will wheezes for breath, tears in his eyes.

Merlin’s own eyes blur, but he ignores them.

“You’re a good man, Merlin,” Will gasps. Merlin grips his hand, unable to breathe—not because he dreads his secret being revealed, because, suddenly, he’s faced with a world where Will is gone. Not an old friend, in a distant village, just—gone.

“I’m sorry,” Merlin murmurs. “I don’t know how to heal you. I don’t—I can’t—“

“It’s okay,” Will says, weakly grasping Merlin back. “It’s okay. You’ll be okay. I was wrong about Arthur, you know. I don’t think I’ll ever really like him, but I see the way you two look at each other.”

“What?”

Will laughs, winces. “You’ve always been a decent judge of character, I think. If you see the King in him, then it must be in there…deep, deep down. And if he hurts you, I will haunt him till the end of his days.”

Merlin laughs wetly. His tears mix with the growing red stain. His hand is on Will’s chest, trying in vain to stem the flow, but Merlin can feel the life draining from Will. Not the blood, metaphorically, but with his magic; he can feel it drain, but he doesn’t know how to mend it.

“It’s been boring here, without you,” Will says.

“I’m sorry I had to go.” A part of Merlin will always feel that way, no matter of pratly princes and talking dragons. He’ll always miss goofing around with his magic or spear fishing or playing pranks with Will. The way you miss your childhood home that you can never truly return to.

Will starts gasping harshly. It isn’t far now.

“Merlin, Merlin, I’m scared—“

“I know. I’m here. I’m here.”

“I don’t want to die—I don’t want to be alone—“

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Merlin grasps Will’s hand, tightly.

The world stops when Will stops breathing. And though sobs catch in Merlin’s chest, though he can feel grief like a dark winter storm, for a brief instant, he is grateful.

Will isn’t in pain anymore.

- - -

Merlin doesn’t remember much of the preparations for the funerals—for Will, for Matthew, for all those who fell in battle.

He knows he’s the one who helps carry Will to the pyre. Merlin arranges Will’s grip around his father’s sword, leaves his woven leather bracelet in Will’s fingers. Gwen, Morgana, and his mother squeeze his shoulder, or murmur condolences—someone strokes his hair. He thinks Arthur is somewhere there, on the periphery, but Merlin can’t face that right now.

When the flames burn, all Merlin can hear is Will’s panicked voice. He stays, stays, stays, until the embers are cold, tears dried on his cheeks, dried blood and grime on his hands.

At some point, he kneels, fiddling with the grass at his knees.

A shadow eventually falls over him, or, maybe, it’s been there for awhile.

“Merlin,” Arthur says, armor clanking as he sits down. In the edge of Merlin’s vision, he reaches out a hand, hesitates, and drops it on his thigh. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” Merlin says. It’s one thing to know it’s not his fault—not everything is under his control, even with magic—but there is still this insidious voice.

If he had acted sooner, no one would’ve had to die. Will would still be alive.

“He—“ Arthur pauses, wets his lips. “He knew about…it, didn’t he?”

Merlin blinks, head feeling a little foggy. “It?”

“Your magic,” Arthur says, the moment Merlin had been dreading. Merlin feels very little now that it’s upon him.

“Yes.”

“He was trying to get you to stop the battle.”

“Something like that,” Merlin sighs. “Even I don’t know fully what I’m capable of.”

Supposedly the most powerful sorcerer to walk the Earth—but he couldn’t heal his friend.

“You seemed capable enough,” Arthur says. “That storm you conjured. I think some of Kanen’s men almost shat themselves.” Arthur pauses, glancing at Merlin, and Merlin realizes he’s trying to make a joke. Not to make light of his grief, but to help.

Merlin blinks, and a warm tear falls down his cheek without thought. “But not powerful enough. I felt Will’s life but I didn’t even know the first thing about healing him.”

Arthur’s hand warms Merlin’s shoulder, steadying him. “I…I can’t pretend to know the first thing about magic. But I know you. You did everything you could. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I know.”

“It’s almost dark, Merlin. We should head inside. You can finish up my dinner.”

“How generous,” Merlin says wryly, but he doesn’t want to move just yet. “I can’t yet. I promised…” Merlin swallows. More tears fall. “I promised I wouldn’t leave him alone.”

“We won’t leave you alone either,” Arthur says, squeezing Merlin’s shoulder.

“We?”

“We,” Morgana says behind Merlin. When he turns around, she has two blankets: one she lays on the grass, the other she drapes around Merlin and Arthur’s shoulders. Gwen and Hunith trail behind her with steaming bowls of stew and a couple of candles.

“We,” Gwen confirms, handing out the bowls.

The four of them huddle together under the single blanket, while Hunith smiles solemnly.

“Try not to stay out too long,” Hunith says. She strokes Merlin’s hair, and smiles gratefully at Gwen, Morgana, and Arthur. “It gets cold after dark.”

Hunith plants an indulgent kiss on Merlin’s brow before heading back inside.

“You guys really don’t have to do this,” Merlin tells them.

“We do,” Morgana says. “You’ve been there for all of us. Even if one of us”—she sends a stink eye to Arthur—“doesn’t always acknowledge it.”

“We aren’t going anywhere,” Gwen adds.

“I promise, Merlin,” Arthur says. “Now, one of the best ways to keep someone alive is to tell their stories. So, tell us about Will. If you’d like.”

So Merlin does.

#merthur #bbc merlin #ficlet #this was supposed to be a summary #but it turned into a Drabble #character death cw #sorry for the angst but we get some Core Four action at the end

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couch-house · 5 months

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2023 baybeeeee. havent done an art summary in a while since i basically stopped drawing early 2020 and didn't get back on the horse until mid-2022 (i wonder... what could have caused that!) i dont feel like my art has really changed this year, only in the ways that I draw specific sonic characters (looking through my archive is fun bc i can see the progression of the diseases known as Giving Them Big Eyebrows and Drawing The Monoeye) and--more exciting 4 me--my practice with paneling comics! :)

i think the progression is much more noticeably when you line it up with last year's sonic art... i can see all the Milestones.. more talking abt that under the cut

May: couch gets into sonic. June: Yucky Sonic 1.0. this was also the month when i Heard Of fleetway super. July: couch comes back from brazil, having read stc. this is also when i start dong actual short comics. compare may -> june -> july. (also please forgive whatever tf i was doing with skintones. i needed some practice)

august: merger au takes shape. dog invented. also i just really like that speed racer sonic mspaint picture. its fun :) september: deep in the fleet mines. october: i lose a lot of steam and mostly just doodle. another comic comparison for those three months:

november: frontiers comes out. i go crazy mode and make that sonic + knuckles comic with the pretty backgrounds and LOTS OF TINY TEXT. december: winter break AND im tired. january 2023 i come back insane crazy mode and write some fanfiction?? still havent finished that LOL. made some nice cover art :) february: i shift into knuckles mode fora month. make another comic. this one is much better i think :) november -> february

march: i shift into transfem metal sonic mode. also just stick to a lot of doodling. also write more fanfiction. crazy. april: transitory period as i shift back into stc/exit: sonic mode. may: more fanfiction. more comics. i really like how both of these turned out :) while the last two were definitely taking a lot more notes from stc, i think around here i start paying attention to and trying to learn from more creative panelling from artists i admire. like @/superemeralds THOAM and @/starrjoy's pandora au.

june: i play sa2 and it's good. july: i play unleashed and it is both miserable and good. i get in kind of an artistic frustration zone and wiggle my way out. august: idk i think im just chillin. super react dot jpeg happens. it's not even named that, it's named after the other image on the canvas, which was maria holding baby shadow. more comics.

september: i burn out for a bit. get real tired. eventually get back up and make more comics. the goal here and last month has become "try to make more interesting panel shapes. I've noticed other artists don't just use rectangles--try playing with irregular polygons and see where it gets you." well it gets you mixed results as you learn :) also i think after that pause i accept the monoeye into my life. sigh...

october: oc showdown starts and @/neurotypical-sonic asks me to make some halloweeny art :) feels like i dont do much this month bc i focus on those. november: A LOT OF ART?? INSANE. more oc showdown stuff. i play shadow the hedgehog (2005). it's good and i love it. i draw a ton of shit on one canvas for it. Fucking Dember: i have shifted back into stc/EXIT mode. motivation's a little weird bc work's a little weird. doing commissions also makes it weird. well im having fun and being myself :) a final handful of comics from this month:

idk maybe ill do something sicko crazy b4 the end of the year. mayb i'll follow exit sonic's example and #GetWorse. who knows :) well this is fun i love looking at my art and seeing and noticing things. thank u all for your support and I hope we all have a great 2024!

#id in alt text #partially descriptive... i put the details i figured were relevant #art summary #i have WPRDS to SAY. i like thinking abt my art #okayvwell this was supposed to stay a draft but WHATEVER

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introspectivememories · 1 month

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walki with me... tommy kinard calling buck "baby"..... tommy kinard kissing buck..... tommy kinard gently holding buck's waist.... tommy kinard making buck laugh.... tommy kinard listening to buck ramble with stars in his eyes.... tommy kinard peppering kisses all over buck's face as buck blushes..... tommy kinard letting buck set the pace for their relationship..... tommy kinard calling buck "evan".... buck learning to love his own name because how can he not when tommy says it so gently..... buck sitting in tommy kinard's lap..... buck getting hurt on a call and tommy is there right away taking care of him.... buck waking up in the morning with his head pillowed on tommy kinard's chest as the sunlight streams in through the window and casts tommy in a sort of halo and his breath catches and buck is so happy he made it through his twenties and the tsunami and truck falling on him and the embolism and the lightning strike and any of other myriad of ways the universe has had it out for him because he gets to wake up to tommy motherfucking kinard in his bed as the sunlight gently cradles them in her embrace

("baby," tommy says, eyes still closed, less than two seconds later, hand brushing along buck's spine to card his fingers through buck's hair, "you're thinking too loud. go back to sleep."

buck honest to god flushes at the endearment. because that's what he is, tommy's baby. he's tommy's baby. jesus fucking christ, he feels like combusting. burying his head in his boyfriend's (boyfriend!!!) chest, buck tries not to whine.

"don't wanna," he whispers, peeking up at tommy, "wanna look at you."

tommy's other arm comes up to settle along his waist and buck wants to, fuckin', purr or whatever with how right it feels. tommy cracks open his eyelids to peer down at him.

"evan," his boyfriend (boyfriend!!!) says fondly.

and that's another thing he never knew about himself until he started dating tommy. he loves his name. not his nickname or his last name or buckaroo or any variant of that but his first name. he fuckin' loves the name "evan" or maybe he just likes the way tommy says it. and tommy has so many ways he says buck's name.

there's a soft, whispered "evan" in the mornings, and fond "evan" in the afternoons. there's an "evan" that tommy says like he's holding 3 tons of solid gold in his hands. there's an "evan" that he can barely get out through his laughs when buck bursts out with a fun fact at a wrong time. there's a choked-off, bitten, "ev-" when they're in bed at night and tommy can't believe buck is under him, gorgeous and panting. and there's the panicked "EVAN!" on a call gone wrong and there's an angry "evan" when buck doesn't take care of himself and there's a worried, two-syllable "ev-an" when he comes home with more bruises than he left with and there's-,

well the point is that there's a lot of different "evan"s that tommy says these day. he's going to catalogue them all one day. like his very own personal auditory archive. something to pull out on his off days.

"evan," tommy says fondly, "i'm not goin' anywhere sweetheart. i'll be here when you wake up. so go back to sleep, i'll be right where you left me."

and well-, buck forgets sometimes that this is a two-way street. that he may be tommy's baby but tommy's his boyfriend too. that tommy's practically required by law to be here when he wakes up. (oh by law?, he can almost hear his boyfriend snark. buck's bites the inside if his cheek to stop himself from giggling.) and more than some vague, ephemeral, Boyfriend Laws™️, tommy wants to be here when he wakes up. this is something tommy is actively choosing to do.

so when tommy says, "go back to sleep sweetheart" and "i'm not going anywhere, evan", well, who is buck to question that? he burrows deeper into the warm cocoon tommy has made, and let's his boyfriend's heartbeat lull him back to sleep.)

#are you still walking with me?#sorry about the word vomit at the end. this was supposed to be a joke post and then the bucktommy brainrot hit #nearly collapsed at work yesterday thinking about tommy calling buck 'baby'#and buck learning to love his name because of the multitude of ways tommy says it.... that's the good shit #they're endgame to me. like i still love buddie but like even if we never get buddie..... bucktommy is good for me #buck and tommy trying to hide their relationship except buck gets hurt on call one day and tommy comes running over and is so worried #he outs them. just gently calling buck 'baby' by accident in front of 118 and buck who is hurt and just wants comfort leaning into the #warmth tommy provides. well now i am just giving you a summary of 'all i know since yesterday everything has changed' by perfectlysunny #great fic btw. adore it. i rotate it in my head all the time.#911 abc #bucktommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard

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