#specs writes stuff

[spectraspecs-writes]

Manaan - Chapter 127

Link to the masterpost. Chapter 126. Chapter 128.

@averruncusho @ceruleanrainblues @chubbsmomma @darthvendar-blog @80strashbag thank you for reading, you get a tag. @skelelexiunderlord thank you for support, you get a tag.

——–

A thin layer of dust rests on the bench in my holding cell. It probably hasn’t been used in some time. I dust it off with my sleeve before sitting down and watching court officers catalog the contents of my pack and pockets. “One wrap of tools,” one says, picking  up my droid toolkit and holding it for a camera to see.

“Please take good care of that,” I say, “It means a lot to me.”

“All cataloged evidence will be held in stasis until trial, and if it is deemed non-relevant it will be released to next of kin upon verdict.”

“Or… to the accused upon acquittal,” I say, “Right?” They both look at me, not answering, before turning back to their work. How reassuring.

“Two long swords,” the other says, unsheathing my swords gently, “With blood.”

“Hold for analysis,” says the first, before reaching to the next item, “Ten medpacs.”

“One length of rope, approximately three meters.”

“One datapad, mild damage, retrieved from the back pocket.”

“Assorted droid parts.”

“Encoded access pass, keyed for the Sith Embassy.”

“Hold or analysis. Two Jedi-type lightsabers.”

“Be careful with those,” I interrupt, but I’m not acknowledged.

One of them reaches for the final item. “One metal…” He stops. Scrutinizes it. “…something.”

“It’s an encrypted data core,” I say.

They turn back to me. “What’s on it?”

“I don’t know,” I say honestly, “I don’t know the encryption sequence. I could probably figure it out, if I had a week. But for all I know, it could be just environmental data. Or nothing at all.”

“Not relevant to this case,” the other says, and it gets placed in the bin with the other, I assume, non-relevant items. At least if the worth happens, Carth can return it to the Republic. Even though it for sure is relevant, but even if I did tell them that, experience tells me they wouldn’t listen.

“I suppose it would be a waste of my time to ask what my rights are?” I ask.

“As an off-worlder, your rights are the same as those of any native,” one of them says, “You are entitled to a fair trial, carried out in a timely manner. You are entitled to visitors. You are entitled to a competent defense. An arbiter has been summoned for you.”

I nod. “Cool.”

A haggard-looking Selkath, juggling datapads, comes into the holding area and walks to the desk. “I have been summoned as arbiter for a human?” The desk attendant points at me. I wave. “Ah, Min Rena. Or Min Visz? I have little experience with off-worlders, I am uncertain which is correct.”

“Uh, either is- is fine,” I say, “But what is ‘Min?’”

“I - forgive me, I am unfamiliar with human genders as well, so I opted for a neutral title. If you would prefer a different —“

“No,” I interrupt, “no, ‘min’ is fine.”

He looks relieved. “Good. Good. I am called Bwa’lass, and I have been selected as your Arbiter for the duration of your trial. I will endeavor to prove to them that you are not guilty of the heinous crimes that you are accused of, namely…” He searches through his collection of datapads, and drops several before he finds the one he’s looking for. “Ah, here it is. Namely, initiating violence within the Sith Embassy, murdering members of the Ambassadorial  Commission of the Sith Empire, and disregarding our own laws regarding violence in Ahto City, as well as numerous counts of property damage.”

This does not bode well. “Cool,” I say nervously, “Cool. Uh, Bwa’lass, I don’t mean to be rude, but, uh… I understood I had the right to a competent defense… and you seem…”

He sighs. “I know.” That definitely doesn’t bode well! “but I assure you, my lack of understanding of off-worlders does not impact my understanding of Selkath law!”

“I’m not doubting you there,” I say, “You know definitely more about Selkath law than I do. but sitting here, watching you juggle datapads… I won’t lie, I feel doomed.” He doesn’t say anything. “I have to wonder if I wouldn’t be better off defending myself.”

“While it is true that you do have that right,” Bwa’lass says, “I would recommend against it. Due to your confinement, you will not have much of a chance to build up evidence to pursue your case. Also, I do not believe you off-worlders truly understand the minds of us Selkath. It would be best if you left your defense up to me.”

The door opens again, and Carth walks in, flanked by a Selkath officer on either side. “Rena, this is unbelievable,” he says animatedly, “You haven’t done anything wrong. I can’t believe the Republic embassy hasn’t sent someone to defend you.”

“And admit they know me?” I say with a scoff, “Open themselves up to scrutiny, questions they don’t want asked?” He opens his mouth to say something else, but I stop him by speaking again. “Carth, this is my arbiter, Bwa’lass.” The haggard Selkath gives a small wave, dropping two more datapads in the process.

Carth looks from Bwa’lass, to me, back to Bwa’lass, and to me again. “You’re not serious.”

“Court appointed,” I confirm.

He shakes his head, looking petrified. “I’m going to the embassy -- Roland Wann has to assign someone to your defense.”

“Carth, don’t,” I say, “Don’t involve yourself in this any more than you have to be. The Star Map is more important than me.”

I can see the words on the edge of his tongue - “No, it’s not” - but he doesn’t say it. “We can’t get that without the data core. Which you had.”

“Non-relevant evidence will be released to next of kin upon verdict,” I say, repeating the Selkath officer.

He nods a bit, thinking. Then stops. “Or…released to you when they find you not guilty, right?”

“They wouldn’t tell me.”

The door opens again, and Jolee comes in. By himself. “What are you doing here?” Carth asks, “And how did you get here without any guards?”

“Well, I certainly didn’t use a Jedi mind trick,” Jolee says sarcastically, “That would be unethical.”

One of the guards with Carth scoffs. “A Jedi mind trick would not work on one of my officers,” he says confidently.

“Of course it wouldn’t,” Jolee says, then he raises his hand, “But the old man doesn’t need guards, does he?”

The officer’s eyes glaze over for a moment. “Uh…” he says, “no… the old man doesn’t need guards.” Unbelievable.

“I think you’ll both agree Rena’s defense is the more important matter at hand than my being here,” Jolee says.

“That’s an even better idea,” Carth says, “Contact the Jedi, they’ll send someone to defend Rena.”

“No, they won’t,” Jolee and I say at the same time. “This us all Master Vrook needs to have to be convinced of my ‘evil core,’” I say, “Not to mention the fact that they don’t have enough Jedi to spare. You know, the war? The destruction of Dantooine?”

“The Council also wouldn’t interfere in the legal system of a non-Republic world,” Jolee says, “Sending anyone here to Rena’s defense would draw unnecessary attention to the matter.”

“Malak already knows more about this mission than they’d like,” I say.

“We can’t just stand around and do nothing,” Carth says, “We have to do something!”

“No, you don’t,” I say firmly, “Neither of you have to do anything except testify if you’re asked. And in fact it’s better if you don’t do anything. If anything happens to me, it’s up to all of you to find the last Star Map and stop Malak.”

“Indeed,” Bwa’lass says, finally saying something, “It would be in all of your best interests to let me do my job as arbiter. To that end, I would like to interview my client alone so that we may adequately prepare for the trial tomorrow.”

“We have to do this right, guys,” I say, “Please trust me, I don’t want to spend time in a Selkath jail anymore than you do.”

“In fact,” Bwa’lass chimes again, “the punishment for the crime is death, by immediate execution.”

“DEATH?” Carth exclaims, causing his escorts to tense up. Bad time to say that, Bwa’lass.

Jolee holds Carth back. “Calm down, lad, before you get yourself arrested,” he says, “If Rena says to trust her, that’s exactly what we must do.”

“Jolee, I can’t just --” he shouts. But as he looks Jolee in the eyes… I don’t know what level they’re communicating on, what they say, but Carth relaxes. He looks back at me, like he’s trying to take me in. “Okay,” he says finally, “... Okay.” And nothing more.

“Please escort them back to their vessel,” Bwa’lass says to the officers, who nod and turn to leave with Jolee and Carth. But Carth doesn’t stop looking at me. His eyes are set on mine until they round the corner, out of sight. “Now,” Bwa’lass says, taking a deep breath, “I would first like to ask you a few questions regarding the events that led up to your arrest. I have already been given all relevant data on you and your companions, so that can be disregarded. For what reason did you enter the Sith Embassy?”

“I had been hired as a mercenary,” I say, “The court officers found a pass card with my belongings, I heard them catalog it.”

“Yes, I have record of that,” he says, “I find it unlikely that you are a mercenary, but perhaps the judges will be more sympathetic to your view.” Good to know my lawyer has no faith in me. “What is your prior association with the Sith?”

I scoff. “How much time do you have?”

“I beg your pardon?”

Actually… best not. At best, I’ll be told I’m making a mockery of the court if I say I was Revan. At worst I’ll be believed and executed for war crimes. “Forget it,” I say, “Before I joined the Jedi Order, I was a scout. I’d encounter other scout patrols who were hired by the Sith, and I was amicable with them, but beyond that my interactions have been nearly non-existent.”

“I am skeptical of that,” Bwa’lass says, “as will be the judges. You off-worlders tend to congregate much amongst yourself. I see no inherent differences between your two groups.”

“They’re philosophical differences, for the most part,” I say, “Political views, moral stances.”

“I see,” Bwa’lass says neutrally, “There is no need to elaborate further. That should be all the information I require of you, for now.”

Wait, that’s it? “Um… don’t you need to ask more questions?”

“I have all the information I need.”

“How can you expect to defend me without getting more information?”

“I think this trial is relatively straightforward,” he says with a shrug, “It should be obvious to the judges what has transpired.”

Obvious? “Uh��� why don’t you tell me what you plan on telling them? Just… so we’re both on the same page.”

He looks a tad insulted, but with a small sigh, he says, “Very well. You were there by circumstance, not involved in the disturbance. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time on legitimate business, the business of the Jedi Order. The Jedi are above reproach, and none of their Order would have murdered so many out of spite.” 

Oh, boy. “You don’t know much about the Jedi, do you?”

“I have no first-hand knowledge, but the reputation of the Order is well-known. Jedi are peacekeepers, not killers.” Yeah, this little war thing is just an effort to keep the peace, not a major struggle between good and evil.

Evil. That’s… oh, that’s good. “I tell you what, Bwa’lass. There was a Selkath present when I was arrested, her name is Shasa.”

“Yes, I know the name. Her father, Shaelas, has been before the judges numerous times, demanding action against the Sith for kidnapping Selkath youth. However, he has never been able to produce evidence to his claims, and has been summarily dismissed each time.”

“Could it be managed for Shasa to give testimony? She’s a part of the story the judges will want to hear,” I say.

“As a youth, her father must be consulted on the matter. I will make the necessary inquiries prior to the start of the trial tomorrow.” I get the feeling he’s just humoring me, but he doesn’t have to believe me. He just has to do it.

“Thank you. After that your services are no longer needed. I think it’s best if I defend myself.”

He sighs again. ‘While that is your right, I strongly recommend against that,” he says again, “I am versed in all the necessary particulars of this case and Selkath law, off-worlder. You would do well to heed my advice.”

“Bwa’lass, I respect you and your knowledge,” I say, “But to put it bluntly, I think that if I rely on you for my entire defense, I’m not going to survive the trial. You’ve been a huge help, but once you’ve arranged for Shasa to testify, I can take it from there.”

“And if her father refuses?”

“I will cross that bridge when I get there.” The Sith master’s datapad should still be with my belongings. I know I heard the court officers record mine, but they were going through stuff before I got brought to this cell.

“Very well,” Bwa’lass says reluctantly, “You off-worlders are not known for your mental prowess. I shall leave your demise up to you.” He bows his head slightly and leaves.

Well. Nothing more to do now but wait.

#kotor #knights of the old republic #star wars #star wars knights of the old republic #autistic artist #fiction #specs writes stuff #rena visz #oc #fem!revan #ls!revan #kotor fic #carth onasi #bwa'lass #jolee bindo #manaan #death mention tw #sith #chapter 127

[the-great-kraken]

if you see a male character kiss a male character, you assume they are gay.

if you see a female character kiss a female character, you assume they are a lesbian.

if you hear a character say they don't feel like their gender, you assume they are trans.

so why do a-spec characters have to jump through so many loops?

a character saying they've never had a crush or don't want a relationship or that they don't understand romantic love is so often ignored or used as fodder for other queer or autistic headcanons (reinforcing stereotypes that aroace people are secretly gay or always autistic)

why is it that our stories are always "up to interpretation"? why do we have to wait for the words aromantic or asexual to be said to be taken seriously? why is it that even when characters say they don't want relationships, fans will scream and cry about sex/romance favourable aspecs and qprs?

when it comes to gay and trans characters, even the likes of bisexual lighting is often treated as though it canonises their sexuality. for aroace characters, even the most explicit coding possible is swept under the rug in favour of other "interpretations"

i'm so tired of fighting for representation just to have it ignored and minimised by fans. let characters be aroace. please.

#obviously there are a ton of circumstances where the qpr and sex/romance favourable is completely fine #but when characters explicity say they dont have sex or dont want relationships it feels so hollow #fandom is fandom and there is nothing i can do to stop you shipping or writing smut or headcanoning or whatever #but please just think it through. the characters aren't real but there are so many geniunely harmful ideas doing stuff like this reinforces #rhi rambles #aroace #aromantic #asexual #a-spec #a spec #aspec #aro #ace #aspec representation #asexual representation #aromantic representation #lgbtq+ #queer

[icewindandboringhorror]

I know this is just a silly bad quality random screencap of a screencap that I found on facebook lol, BUT it's a succinct enough image to easily describe the concept in a quick/accessible way hopefully :

-

(and of course, feel free to elaborate in tags, etc.! (especially elaborating about other senses as well.. can you "hear" in your mind just as well as you can "see"? taste? etc.) It's an interesting topic to me, as someone who's like a 4.5 at MOST lol. I'm curious what option will be the most common :0c )

#tumblr polls #hrmm... a little poll perhaps.. about a subject I find interesting.. since this image came across my facebook today #still really not feeling that well. no longer shaking violently and such but I still feel weird and weak much more than usual #They did say my markers for like infection or inflammation were elevated but that they werent sure of the cause so hopefully #it's nothing too serious. they did also say a lot of different things can cause that thing to be higher than normal but didn't go into spec #fics of what. maybe some of them are relatively benign or something. I still havent felt much back to normal since #I got really sick that one time though. I feel fine on and off but then little bouts of feeling weird and sick happen. hrmmm #ANYWAY.. looking for small ways to be productive. such as little doodles on evil ipad or editing game videos #or posting polls or cat pictures or some other like not very labor intensive things #I WISH I COULD FOCUS on writing HHRGGhh... I need to finish my game.. it would be so freeing.. a project that's been looming #over my head for like 5 years even though througouht that 5yrs I've probably spent a total of 3 months working on it lo.. ANYWAY #I still partially really cannot beleive that people CAN see stuff in their heads. There's always part of me that's thinking like. well mayb #e everyone DOES see the same exact thing but we just describe/conceptualize it so differently that we think we're talking about #different things when we're really not. But I have been assured by people I've talked to about it that they can GENUINELY really see #stuff in their heads like as vivid as an actual picture in real life or something. And the other senses are neat too. Like for exmaple I #can hear in my head much better than I can see imagery. I still CANNOT hear vividly like as if I were listening to actual music out loud.. #but I think it's developed more than my sight. AND interesting how this varies the creative process. a friend I was talking to on the phone #said they write by literally just watching stuff play before them like a movie. where my process is COMPLETELY different. AND that affects #the content/what details we focus on as well as our individual styles of writing have differences that can be traced back to that.. hrmm

[civetfish]

Nerd-to-nerd communication

Something super pointless and self-indulgent I've had on the backburner for a while. I love trying to make the pieces they gave us fit together!

Al-AN and Robin would absolutely bond over learning about each other's biology. I could talk about this forever but I'll get into all of the headcanons I have for these two in another post eventually

Below the cut is another version with some extra bits and pieces and the transcription

Transcript :

Architect Anatomy A. Architect "Brain" - Doesn't "store" information so much as allow for easy communication with the network B. Brainstem - connects the information received to the central nervous/circulatory system C. "Heart" - Circulatory system pumps the bioluminescent fluid to other organ systems and surface veins. Each node connects to a vast vasculature network D. "Kidneys" - Organs that filter the bioluminescent "blood" and other bodily fluids, absorbing and distributing collected material E. Nerve Center - Receives raw sensory data and filters it. Filtering can be unconscious or intentional

F. "Respiratory" Tract - Intakes gases or liquids and filters out material for use. Disposes of waste on exhale. Provides cooling to internal systems

The respiratory tract functions less like a set of lungs and more akin to a computer's cooling system, with the ability to absorb material from the environment to use in other parts of the body. It also would likely help the architect's body analyze the environment it is currently exposed to on a molecular level. It is also truly unidirectional, with the intake vents near the "collarbone" and the exhaust vents on both sides of the abdomen

The architect organ cache in-game felt like it was definitely not a complete model of the internal organs, so I wanted to come up with something to fill some more space. I also just really liked the idea of Al-An being capable of something similar to breathing, without having a respiratory system in the traditional sense. Feel free to use any of this in your own headcanons if you would like :)

BONUS - a gif of all the layers!

#EDIT - UPDATE IN THE REBLOGS #The skeletal structure of the architects cause me so much anguish #Ily al-an but your HIPS don't have JOINTS #This was so fun #I mention this in the keep reading but feel free to use this anatomy speculation stuff in your own work! #I want to get into more of my headcanons for how his body works but I might do that through writing. Ill link my ao3 if I do lol #subnautica below zero #subnautica #sbz #al an subnautica #al an #robin ayou #subnautica below 0 #al-an #spec bio #<< technically I guess #Do you think he sounds like an overheating pc when he's embarrassed #SMALL EDIT : HELLO?? I didnt realise Aci had made a video analyzing al-an's body and AUGH I WISH I HAD SEEN IT!! #He brings up some really good points and ideas abt his physiologyyyyy

[destroyusall]

I headcanon that slugcats aren’t m/f but are hermaphroditic (like real slugs!) and it’s just a matter of presentation they prefer. Intersex slonks my beloved

#rain world #this came abt in a little fic I was writing.. #I miss spec bio stuff really badly and this was my out #jacquet.txt

[bisayawa]

hand. cramp.

𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ pairing: bruce wayne (pattinson) × afab!fem!eader

𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ warnings: smut. fluff. female masturbation.

𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ a/n: smut drabble; sometimes sex can be awkward. she/her pronouns used. w. count: 592. not proofread. mdni banner by @/cafekitsune. art by bernini.

"give me a show, honey. please?"

that's what bruce had asked you thirty minutes ago, bright blue eyes twinkling, brows downturned in askance. he said those words into the hollow of your throat, nipping & pecking & kneading your thighs all the while.

he whispered & begged & pleaded, pressing kisses as you made your way to the bed, eager to watch how you do it, how you touch yourself with your own hands.

his eyes were wide at attention, ears piquing at the soft sounds breathing out from your lips. he watches, hungry, aching, pawing at the bedspread & biting his lip at the shine of your slick. from the tips of your fingers down to the knuckle, disappearing into the wet heat of you. you cant your hips, back & forth, blinking your eyes closed at the crest of each pass.

"faster," he said, staring. "could you do it faster for me, honey? please?"

he brings a kiss to your cheek, then another, and two more, grasping across your torso to hold you close, biting at your skin as if to coax you.

you obliged, of course, sweet words flowing into you like molasses. pure sugar lit afire in your chest as you feel the start of the tingle at the base of your spine, feel the warmth in your blood from your chest start to crawl down to the tips of your toes. your eyes go cross before you pinch them closed.

he's right beside you, biting & groping & sucking bruises into your neck as you pace faster...

― breaths heaving & flush brightening from your forehead down to your chest ―

and faster...

― small noises & airy sighs curling out from parted lips ―

and... stop.

you're stock still, panting as your legs are tense. your hand is unmoving, taut like a bowstring at rest. the climbing heat ebbs away. your toes twitch & jerk.

"honey?" he says, kissing your cheek. "you okay? what's wrong?"

he rubs your side soothingly, waiting.

your eyes open & you give a sleepy smile, huffing a laugh as you stare up into his eyes. your hand retreats. more breaths run out from your mouth.

"hand cramp, bruce..." you clear your throat. "sorry."

he softens at the sighed out apology, couldn't be more endeared. he moves to sit up beside you, kneeling almost.

"don't be." he reaches for your wrist & massages at your knuckles, kissing the back of your hand.

"bruce... ah-"

he takes your fingers to mouth, a haphazard clean up. drool from his tongue winds down in rivulets, from fingertip to palm. he eyes you as if to challenge. all he sees is your mouth parting in a small whimper.

he sets it down when it's clean of you, humming as the digits leaves his mouth. he savors it, of course, drawing it out slowly from where they're flush to his mouth. first your knuckles, then the middle, then out comes your fingertips, shining with his spit. he licks his lips, leaning down to give you a kiss sweeter & softer than spun sugar.

"my little love," he murmurs against your mouth. "got a cramp, did she? tsk, tsk..."

he breaks from the kiss then, grinning down as he kneels, moves over & sets a hand on your inner thigh. his fingers drum against the skin, impatient, crawling closer & closer to where you want him. the bed dips to receive the weight of him on his knees.

"i think i know what can make her feel better."

#my fic. #battinson x reader #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne x y/n #batman smut #battinson smut #bruce wayne x you #pattinson!batman #bruce wayne fluff #battinson #trying to get back into writing stuff #carnal urges (aroace-spec)

[therottenkingsreckoning]

Contrary to popular belief, demons and angels are usually neutral towards one another, rather than in direct opposition. It isn't like the stereotypical "cats & dogs", but much closer to what happened with the evolutionary line of wolves & dogs (the angels herein being wolves). That's not a direct comparison, but imagine if you were to amputate your arm, fling it into a subspace void, and watch as it somehow mutated into an entire race of beings over the course of a couple millenia. Also in this analogy, both you and the arm-race are made out of magical fire and something like "the concept of entropy" taking vaguely humanoid forms.

It's worth noting as well that angel society and behavior are not unlike that of a beehive or ant colony, being fiercely loyal to their host God and rarely if ever seen outside of the Heaven unless on direct orders from said host. They carry a strong sense of order and justice as all Cosmics do, but in angels this will typically be expressed out of obligation, while a demon acting similarly is more likely to be driven by subemotional instinct.

I can talk more on the subclasses of sentient beings and the magical system here if anyone's interested! A lot of things are quite finicky or unstable, so it won't be a comprehensive breakdown of what is definitely true in every case. But I can still give you a basic idea of what is probably happening, like, most of the time.

#stuff i said #worldbuilding #unreality #angel #demon #writing #spec bio #speculative biology

[ghostofcarcosa]

I don’t believe that Ghostwritier’s library is like, filled with every book ever written.

I think it’s filled with every book that’s ever been destroyed.

Think about it. It’s the Ghost Zone, it’s full of dead things.

I think that Ghostwriter’s library is full of lost manuscripts. Half-finished novels never read by a living soul. A popular ancient play, only for all copies destroyed and all audiences gone and buried. The library of Alexandria.

He is a ghost librarian after all. Only makes sense that he takes care of ghost books.

#danny phantom #ghostwriter #danny phantom headcanon #dp #idk #someday I want to write some stuff set in the universe but make it… idk thematically cohesive #I have ideas #it would be kinda fun to write a spec script based on it lol

[emmelynart]

What if (probably not, but entertain my brain going brrrrrr for a minute) in 6x18, the three of them (Buck, Christopher, and Eddie) are on the Diaz couch while Chris puts the finishing touches on his project. Buck starts talking to Eddie about how he wishes he could have something like this (gesturing towards Eddie and Christopher). He says that he knows he was just the donor, and he's glad that Kameron and Connor worked it out and could have a kid, but a part of him will always wonder what it'd be like to be a dad and have a family.

Eddie looks at him with a serious, loving look - almost like he's realizing something for himself, not just Buck - and after a brief pause says, "You don't have to wonder, Evan. You already are one. You already have it." Then after Buck looks back over to him, Eddie looks toward Christopher and smiles. Then Buck has this look on his face of like, 'Huh... I guess I do.' Then we get the classic happy Buck smirk and it fades to black.

#buddie #911 spec #911 buddie #eddie x buck #oliver stark #ryan guzman #eddie diaz #evan buck buckley #evan buckley #911 fox #911 on fox #911 on abc #911 tv #please don't be rude in my inbox #i just draw stuff okay i don't write things #but i can still let my brain think happy thoughts

[the-likesofus]

lightning crashes

AKA the coma!buck brain rot has taken hold and is now steering the ship

the insanity that is this fic started because of this post by @deluweil

6x10 spec fic // Coma!Buck

9-1-1 on Fox | 9783 words | eddie diaz needs a hug...badly, buck is asleep for most of this, medical inaccuracies cos science is only here for the drama, major injury but he lives, angst with a happy ending, getting together

Read on AO3

The sky is illuminated as he falls, and Eddie can clearly see the outline of the engine as he's thrown backward through the air. The crack of his helmet hitting the ground echoes through his skull and reverberates down the length of his spine. The nerves in the ends of his fingers tingle with the impact and the wind is knocked out of his lungs. 

He heaves a breath and groans as he tries to roll onto his side. His head is spinning and he feels a little bit nauseous. Bobby is next to him in an instant with a hand on his shoulder and around his back, carefully leveraging Eddie to sit up straight and then pulling him to his feet. 

“Are you okay?” Bobby shouts over the thunder and the rain. Water pours over the shoulders of his turnout and Eddie can feel it sliding beneath the collar of his own coat. “Eddie? Are you hurt?”

In his daze, Eddie struggles to meet Bobby’s eyes, looking around and taking in flashes of the parking lot as lightning continues to create a strobing effect. The engine is to his right. The platform at the base of the ladder is singed and blackened not a foot from where he was standing as the arm bounces and swings precariously. 

Eddie swings his head around again, wrenching himself out of Bobby’s grasp.

“Buck? Buck!” He can’t see him. Through the rain and the wind, his eyes track the length of the aerial but Buck is nowhere to be seen. “No, no no. Buck!”

Eddie takes one stumbling step after another, every bone in his body aches and screams in tandem with the shouts climbing up his throat in desperate chorus. “Buck!” 

Absently Eddie knows that Bobby is following him as he rounds the engine, still scanning the arm of the ladder and the ground beneath it. 

There.  

Eddie scrambles across the tarmac, his chest heaving and his heart aching as he races toward the heap of limbs and kevlar. The reflective strips on Buck’s turnout catch in the next flash of lightning and the BUCKLEY printed across his back is illuminated like a beacon. He’s laying on his front with one side of his face pressed into the tarmac, his arms, and legs folded beneath him on uncomfortable angles. 

“Buck! Buck! Can you hear me?” Eddie gets to his side and sinks to his knees, choking on a sob. Buck’s eyes are open but vacant, his helmet is resting on the ground a mere five feet from his body, slowly rocking back and forth on its rounded edge. 

“Buck. Please.” He gasps and his hands shake as he reaches out for his best friend. Eddie’s hands never shake. He doesn’t panic, he does not panic. “Buck!” 

Bobby’s hands land on Eddie’s shoulders and when that isn’t enough he grips under his armpits and bodily drags Eddie backward as Hen and Chimney materialize on either side of Buck’s prone body. “Eddie, Eddie. Come on.”

“No! No, please. Buck!” He’s hysterical, he knows he’s being ridiculous. Screeching and crying are doing nothing to help Buck but something horrible has taken him over at the site. 

Bobby trips over his own feet under Eddie's dead weight and they both fall to the ground. Bobby’s arms wrap around Eddie’s shoulders like a vice and he sinks into him with a heavy, shaking sigh, exhaling out his nose as his own tears mix with the rain streaming down his cheeks. 

He whispers as if there is anyone who can hear him over the wind and the rain. Anyone. “Please.”

continue on AO3

#buddie #buddie fic #the coma!buck brain rot is real #got emotional over a tumblr post #this happened #meegs writes stuff #evan ‘buck’ buckley #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #911 fox #911 fox fic #eddie x buck #buck x eddie #THIS HAS A HAPPY ENDING I PROMISE YOU #6x10 spec fic #major character injury #coma buck #please 6b i beg of you #knock this man's ass out

[noose-lion]

*Chuuya and Dazai chilling on a karaoke room couch severely drunk*

*waving his hand and sloshing his drink*"Obviously I'm gayer~"

*drunkenly stumbling over his words*"What!? No you're not- you like women too!*

*grinning smugly into his drink* "Yeah, and? I've still fucked more men than you! Ergo, I'm gayer. "

"That is NOT how that works!"

*eyebrow raised* "Yeah? How DOES it work?:

"..."

"That's what I thought~"

*petulantly crosses arms* "Still don't think your gayer."

"Oh yeah? How many men have you fucked?"

"..."

"Enough."

*grins, tilting head* "But not enough to be gayer them me?"

"..."

*mutters* "Whore."

*throwing his arms wide across the back of couch* "What was that? I can't hear you over my glorious magnificent victory!"

#bsd crack #bisexual arospec chuuya agenda #aroace spec dazai agenda #bsd drabble #bsd writing snippet #bsd dialoge snippets #my stuff #bsd #screaming into the void #and the void screams back #bungou stray dogs #bungou gay dogs #soukoku #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #bsd chuuya #nakahara chuuya #chuuya x dazai #bsd headcanon #bsd headcanons #jester thinks

[spectraspecs-writes]

Manaan - Chapter 126

Link to the masterpost. Chapter 125. Chapter 127.

@averruncusho @ceruleanrainblues @chubbsmomma @darthvendar-blog @80strashbag thank you for reading, you get a tag. @skelelexiunderlord thank you for support, you get a tag.

a/n - thanks Darth Vendar for unintentionally telling me to update my tag list!

——–

The two assault droids are still emitting a faint hiss as we pass through the large chamber. But more than the slight burn of the machinery, I smell something vaguely… fishy. God, that’s probably super racist. I will just… keep that thought to myself. 

Not “fishy” like “suspicious”, I mean I smell fish. Wow, look at me not keeping my thoughts to myself.

I open the far door and hear something slapping against the floor. A bare foot. I can’t say for certain whether that bare foot is a foot or a flipper, but it’s definitely a bare foot, and it was running away from us. Well, there’s only one direction to go, so that must be where they went. Through another door, followed by more barefoot running away. Now it’s less certain where they went, but that’s not important since we’re where we wanted to be anyway. This is definitely a barracks and a training area. It looks a lot like the door layout of the Endar Spire. A place where soldiers would be. But it also resembles some of the training spaces on Korriban. For Jedi training. “They’re training the Selkath to be Jedi,” I say, “Dark Jedi, this could give them a massive political leg up.”

“Only if it works,” Carth says, “I imagine you have something to say on the subject.”

I chuckle shortly - yeah, no shit - and head for the dormitory in front of me. Four Selkath turn their heads towards the opening door, and their hands go to blasters when they realize we’re not Sith. 

“Intruders!” one exclaims, “Should we sound the alarm, Shasa?”

Shasa - that was the name Shaelas said, wasn’t it? His daughter. She also seems to be the de facto leader in the room. “No,” she says, “wait. We cannot always be running to the Masters for help. We should handle this on our own.” They relax, hands falling away from their blasters. 

“Perhaps this is a test the Sith have prepared for us?” one asks in a timid voice.

Shasa gives a small nod, and turns back to us. “What are you doing here? Only masters and apprentices are allowed in here.”

“My name is Rena,” I say, “Shaelas has me looking into the disappearance of young Selkath. I guess he meant you guys.”

 “I told you your father would get suspicious, Shasa!” one of them says, “He always hated the Sith!”

“My father doesn't understand,” Shasa says to both of us, “He is blinded by his own prejudice!” She turns fully to us. “The Sith are teaching us mastery of the Force. Our alliance with the Sith will bring strength to Manaan and the Selkath people!”

I scoff. “If I had a nickel for every time I heard that,” I say, “I’m sure that’s what they told you, but they were lying to you. They’re manipulating you for their own gain.”

“Republic propaganda,” Shasa scoffs, “The Sith are the victims of lies and half truths! They are not monsters - no more so than the Republic. The Sith have promised to guide us in the use of the Force, as a sign of their good faith.” And they make you use blasters instead of swords or lightsabers? “And once the Republic is defeated, the Sith have promised to withdraw from Manaan and respect our independence.”

Okay. Okay. Uh… no. “You do realize you’re basically forfeiting that independence by working with them, right?” Guys, seriously. You seem smarter than this. “You guys being here gives the Sith political leverage to bring Manaan into their empire. The opposite of independence - they’ll just take Manaan for their own.”

“Spare us your lies!” she exclaims, “The Sith have treated us with nothing but respect and honor! You speak as if we are prisoners here, but we can leave whenever we wish! Our friend Galas chose to leave, and he was returned safely to his home in Ahto City.”

But the others seem a bit less certain. “Shasa,” one says, “what if they speak the truth? Remember what happened at Taris…”  

“Taris is nothing but a Republic lie!” she says.

“I was there!” Canderous says, “It’s not a lie, the planet is decimated. Your ‘honorable’ Sith and their fleet bombed the planet into rubble.”

“Then you are nothing but a Republic puppet, echoing their lies!” Canderous growls and starts to step forward, but Carth stops him. “If the Sith are such monsters,” Shasa continues, “then prove it to us. Surely there must be some evidence of the ‘horrors’ they commit!”

“The Sith are evil, Shasa,” Carth says, “They will use you to conquer Manaan for the kolto.”

“So you say,” she says skeptically, “But why should we believe you? We need physical proof, not the words of some Republic sympathizers.”

“Give us some time, then,” I say, “We will find proof that the Sith are evil.”

Shasa seems unwilling to budge at just my word, but the others seem a bit more open-minded. “Shasa,” one says, “I think we should give them a chance to prove themselves.” The other two murmur in agreement.

Shasa hums slightly. “We will not report your presence to our Sith Masters yet,” she says, “If you bring us proof of Sith lies and torture we will return to our families and report this to the Ahto City authorities. Until then we shall stay here and continue our training in the ways of the Force.”

I nod. I doubt the same story that convinced Dustil will convince them, for any number of reasons. “Surely things are different here on Manaan than they were on Korriban,” I can hear them say, “Our Sith Masters are kind and would never outright slaughter one of us.” Which, of course they would. I have to wonder if Galas really did return home or was just killed and dumped in the ocean. Any suitable proof will be found in the hands of their Master. And somehow I know that that wasn’t the guy Canderous killed. That would be too easy. 

But I also suspect that their Master will be close by. Regular close contact with these kids would be essential for the plan I’m 99% certain they have. Being absent or uncommunicative for long stretches would lead to distrust and suspicion, and they’d be far less useful and effective at the task of taking over. There are two remaining rooms here. The one on the right has nothing but medical supplies and an old bloodied coin. Selkath blood, I suspect. I wrap the coin tightly in a plain bandage. While I suspect it would mean something to Shasa, it wouldn’t mean much alone. There would almost certainly be an accusation that I killed its owner, not the Sith. And what about the body? No, the coin alone does little for me. And so, to check the room on the left. This is a training room, with a droid that I quickly zap, and a door at the back which leads to a short hallway. There’s a sign on the door at the end of the hallway: “do not disturb.” Yeah, like that was ever going to work on me. Of course I open the door.

A Selkath is collapsed on the floor. Not quite dead but almost. And the Sith master standing over him, flanked by two Selkath apprentices. The dying one looks at me. “Please, tell Shasa… the Sith…” One of the apprentices shoots the dying Selkath, killing him.

“Does ‘do not disturb’ mean nothing to you people?” the master shouts, turning around. His anger shifts to confusion upon seeing us. “How did you get in here?” he asks, “Who are— Wait.” His eyes narrow. ‘I recognize you!” Yes, yes, Revan, we know. “Lord Malak was most displeased when he learned you had escaped Taris alive.” Taris? A bit behind on the news, there, aren’t you, bud? “He has promised a great reward to whoever destroys you.”

“You guys don’t get a lot of updates here, do you?” Canderous says. Evidently thinking the same thing I was. “I would have thought Malak would have sent word to his entire army once he told you your identity.” I shrug. The master says nothing.

“Master,” one of the Selkath apprentices says, “give us the honor of aiding you in destroying this enemy of the Sith.”

“As you wish, my eager apprentices,” the Master says. but he has to know they have no chances, not with those blasters. I think the master intends to have us do his dirty work for him and get rid of the witnesses to his murder. “We shall remove these thorns from Malak’s side once and for all!”

Before they can even ready their blasters, Canderous blasts them with his, one shot each. I feel bad for them, really, they were practically dead the minute they decided they wanted in on this fight. That just leaves the master and his double-bladed lightsaber. Carth tries to split the master’s focus but it is razor sharp on me. Without even looking at him, he pushes Carth away with the Force. I try to break Carth’s fall with my own Force - no idea how well I do but I try. but after that Carth stays back. The master wants me to himself.

“So,” the master says, “this is how the great Revan fights.”

“Oh you were just pretending not to know me, then?” I grunt, pushing hard, “Did you do that so the apprentices would want to jump in or were you just playing mind games for fun?”

He swings at my head and I duck. “I must admit, your entry was well-timed. I was going to have to kill them myself before they let slip the truth about Galas. But your timely arrival took that burden out of my hands.” Galas? Wasn’t that the Selkath Shasa mentioned that went back to his family? Which obviously didn’t happen. But she doesn’t need to see the body. I can give her that.

The master brings his lightsaber down over my head and I block it. “You know,” he says. “I expected a Sith lord to be more of a challenge than this.” Shut up. “Although in hindsight I’m not surprised - Malak was able to stop you so easily after all. But I have to wonder…” He pushes hard, and while I’m able to keep his lightsaber from touching me, my knees bend under the pressure. He brings his face close, the glow of his lightsaber illuminating every pore.” …why did he let you live?”

Great question. And if Bastila hadn’t been there I wonder what would have happened. But he doesn’t want discussion. He doesn’t want the truth. He wants to get under my skin. To either weaken my resolve or get me to strike in anger, securing a kind of win in either case. And I won’t give it to him. With as much power as I can muster, I push up against his lightsaber, buying myself enough time to roll out of the way. I make eye contact with Carth. I don’t know, I just… needed to know he was still there. ‘No snappy comeback, Revan?” the master quips, “Have you nothing to say? Could it be that you doubt yourself?”

No. No I don’t. Carth smiles at me. I’m the same person I was last week. The master swings his lightsaber. I think fast. Jump as high as I can manage. And aim my landing for right on top of the master. He can’t prepare. I fall right on top of him and run my lightsaber though the back of his throat.

I take a moment to catch my breath. Carth beams at me. He doesn't say anything, but that’s okay. His eyes say enough.

Canderous scans the room, looking for evidence to show the Selkath. “Think there’d be anything on his computer?”

“Nothing useful - you never keep your secrets in plain view,” I say, “More likely he’ll have a datapad - start checking desk drawers.” I quickly frisk the corpse, which feels as weird as it sounds, to no avail. No datapad on his person.

I hear a small blaster shot as Canderous shoots the lock off a drawer. Yeah, what’s a little property damage when you’ve committed murder? “Good call,” he says, “it’s not even locked.”

“The Selkath trust him,” Carth says, “he probably didn’t see the need for two locks.”

“My thoughts exactly,” I say, taking the datapad from Canderous. I’m not about to read the whole thing, I don’t have the patience. There’s a lot of discussion about politics, the workings of Selkath government. My eyes catch the word “infiltrate”, which becomes “infiltrate the government,” and I don’t read anymore. Exactly as I figured.

I take the datapad and the coin back to Shasa and the others. They gather around me as I carefully unwrap the coin. “It doesn’t mean anything to me, but I figured it would mean something to one of you. Or at least, I should return it.”

One tenderly reaches for it, takes the wrapping. “Shasa,” xe says slowly, “…this is the pin I gave Galas when we were children. There is blood on it.”

But Shasa remains unconvinced. “You could have found this anywhere!” she says loudly, “For all we know, you killed Galas!”

“Shasa,” the first says, xer voice trembling, “I believe them. How else would they have found this pin?”

“Well, I need more proof!”

I don’t want to tell them that Galas’ body is still here. In the master’s office. “If you need more proof,” I say, holding out the datapad, “I took this from your master’s office. It details plans to infiltrate and control the Selkath government.”

Shasa swipes it from my hand, silently reading the lines I skimmed over, her face dropping with every line until she reads the phrase I stopped at - “infiltrate the government.” “I…” she says softly, betrayal dripping from her open mouth, “I cannot believe it. And yet, the evidence is right before me. The Sith wanted to use us to betray Manaan!” She shakes her head and gives the datapad back to me. “I must apologize for doubting you. The Sith are truly as evil as you have claimed.”

The other three nod, utter an agreement. Galas’ friend speaks up again - “We must report this to the Ahto City authorities!” xe says.

“Yes,” Shasa agrees, “we must report this at once. We thank you, human, for showing us the truth. You have saved us from a terrible mistake.” She gestures to the others. “Quickly, my friends - we can stay here no longer. We must flee this foul embassy and warn our people against the plot to corrupt the Manaan youth.” The other apprentices leave before her. “Rena,” she says to me, “you have shown us the way. The least I can do is guide your way. Please, come with us.”

“I’ll find my own way out,” I assure her, “Don’t worry.”

“I am not worried that you will find your way to the entrance,” she clarifies, “The laws of Manaan forbid unauthorized use of weapons, and even though this enclave is sovereign, I fear you will be taken into custody when you leave. Please, come with us. If we vouch for you, we may be able to impact the authorities, the courts.”

I smile. “Thank you, Shasa,” I say, “You are very wise and very kind. I will gladly follow your lead.”

The walk back to the elevator is silent, as Shasa leads us back the way we came. Though she is able to effectively block me from reading her, I can tell she has a lot of missed wheeling about the carnage we wrought on our way here. She may have trained with some of these Sith personally, met them, knew their names. Even knowing their plans, that doesn’t take away their personhood. She tries not to think about it.

As the elevator rises back towards the surface, I can feel the large number of Selkath gathered there, waiting to apprehend us. When it opens, a tall gray Selkath steps forward. “You there, human!” he shouts, “You are placed under the arrest of the Ahto City Civil Authority!”

Shasa steps in front of us. “Please, Captain!” she says, confident, “Allow me to explain! I will vouch for them!”

“Your companions have already explained, child,” he says, “And your testimony will be considered in court. In the meantime I must take them into custody.” He looks back at me. “You have the right to know the charges,” he says, and proceeds to explain, “Though the Sith Embassy here is considered sovereign territory of the Sith Empire,” - as Shasa said - “we have been monitoring an alarming number of weapons discharges and detonations from within the base. Inquiries to the staff of the Embassy yielded no response. It would seem that our contact had been cut. Our cameras recorded you and your accomplices entering the base shortly before contact was lost and fighting apparently began. It is the conclusion of the Ahto City Civil Authority that you are responsible for the disturbance here, and you are hereby placed under arrest. You will come with us to await your trial.”

“I will come with you,” I say, “but let my friends return to our ship. They were only following my instructions and should not be punished for my crimes.”

“Rena, don’t—!” Carth starts to say, but I hold my arm out to stop him. Turn to look at him. I’ll be okay. And if I’m not, they need to find the Star Map without me. To finish the mission.

”As material witnesses,” the officer says, “the individuals who accompany you will be detained at your vessel, and the vessel itself prohibited from leaving Manaan. My lieutenants will escort them there.” He nods at two other officers, who stand near Carth and Canderous. “We will leave. Now. Do not attempt to resist, or we shall resort to overwhelming force.” I nod, and surrender myself.

#kotor fic #star wars #knights of the old republic #star wars knights of the old republic #autistic artist #fiction #specs writes stuff #oc #rena visz #fem!revan #ls!revan #death mention tw #blood mention tw #murder mention tw #carth onasi #canderous ordo #sith #manaan #chapter 126 #sith base #kotor

[eepy-samzie]

S2 LESSON 24 SPOILERS

~

"When I look at you, I can see what's going through your head, even if you don't actually say it. That's right."

(I enjoyed this interaction more than I'd like to admit uhhmm 👉👈)

just imagining asmo and mc in a relationship. they exchange notes like this all the time.

i might've become a bit unhinged myself uh. nsfw warning.

one time MC was particularly focused on a lesson, until a balled-up piece of paper lands at the edge of their desk. not wanting to get scolded by the professor, they snatch it up and hide it under their desk. with a fluttering excitement in their stomach, MC unfolds the note and senses that faint, familiar scent of asmodeus' perfume. looking through it, the fluttery feeling subsides, gradually replaced by a feverish warmth.

in-depth descriptions of debauchery within, somehow, go perfectly with cutely drawn hearts in pink glitter ink. at some point they realise— what they're reading were exact retellings of scenarios that kept them up and bothered the night before, told from a perspective that definitely wasn't theirs. only their asmo would provide, in such detail, the way MC's things quivered, being held down, as his head hit against that sweet, sweet spot inside, the way their mouth hung open in a silent scream as they came for him again. teasing them over wanting asmodeus to use their mouth as his personal fuck-hole. calling his MC soooo naughty for ignoring him over his brothers all day, then pleasuring themselves to the thoughts of him fucking their brains out back at cocytus hall. tsk-tsk 🩷

asmodeus felt every single thought that went through his sweetheart's cute little head, and next time, instead of trying to hide it... why won't they visit him if they wish make it all a reality?

with ears burning hot, MC sneaks glances behind them to watch asmodeus diligently write away in his notebook, humming faintly to himself. yet, they could swear, every time they tried focusing on the lesson once more, MC felt a pair of golden eyes burning through the back of their neck.

#SO UM UM SO UM #now i can definitely say asmo changed something within me cause uh. #this is my first piece of writing and i know its bad and i cant write sexy stuff please #give the ace spec scrunkly some leeway #im kinda embarrassed to post this ngl sjcahshshag #anyway #asmo creeper behaviour 💕💖🩷😍 #and i just KNOW there's a kiss mark(s) somewhere on that note #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo

[queerbuckleys]

NOTHING BUT WELL WISHES for all my Ali girlies <3 title from dorothea by taylor swift. idk i got bored and wrote this. small tw for mentions of cancer.

If you have a moment and are so inclined, spare a thought for past loves you've long left behind. For if you read their thoughts it might surprise you to find, just how often you've been on their mind. ~Renata Suzuki

Buck sees her in a Starbucks a month after he died. 

Her hair is longer now, back to blonde. But other than that, the same as the day she left him on that couch. 

It’s the twenty four hour Starbucks by the hospital, he had a check in appointment, they like to do that when you die. 

His name is called and she turns to find him and her smile is the same as it was four years ago. 

“I had a feeling it was you,” she says as he leans forward to grab the to-go cup from the counter. She takes him in, assessing his state.

“Hi,” he smiles brightly, of all his exes, she was the one he could still smile about. Her leaving hurt, but he understood. But something tugged in his chest, telling him to talk to her. It wasn't the ache of a past love awakening– it was just good to see her face, know that she ended up okay, “Actually, do you have a minute– I would love to catch up. Just, you know as friends.” There was something about the way her hair was piled on the top of her head, and now that he was closer he could see her eyes were weary and tired. 

Her shoulders sagged and she let out a breath, “Yeah, I think that would be nice actually.” 

They sit in the quiet corner, and it’s awkward for a moment,

“Are you still a–” 

“Where have you–” 

And they both laugh and its freeing and they both settle into their chairs a little more. 

Buck ducks his head and smiles, “Yeah, I’m still a firefighter. And an uncle!” He pulls out his phone and brings up his favorite picture of him and Jee, it’s a selfie, both of them with ice cream smeared across their faces.

“Oh she’s adorable, Maddie and Chimney must be so happy.”

He smiles and nods as he puts away his phone. 

“I had a project in New York recently which was really exciting– stressful but so rewarding. And I’ll be in Chicago next, then I think San Francisco called,” she laughs.

“Busy as ever. What brings you back?” 

Her body softens, “My sister, she– she’s not doing well. We thought that she was off the hook you know– beating cancer at 15? But guess not. It came back. So I kind of live over there right now,” she gestures across the street with her head. 

“Ali, I--”

“I swear to God if the next sentence is pity, I can’t take any more of it.” 

He just takes her hand and squeezes it tight. 

“If you ever need a real bed and a home cooked meal, you know where I live. I mean it. 

“You haven’t moved?” She asked, wiping a stray tear away. 

“It’s kind of complicated right now. I do technically live there. But, uh I have spent the better majority of the last month at Eddie’s.” 

“Is he okay? Didn’t almost die right?” 

“I mean, he did but that was two years ago.” 

A quizzical expression crosses her face.

“Do you remember how there was that sniper?”

And he watches as the dots connect. 

“He’s okay now, and I helped him recover from that."

She tilts her head with the questions, “You haven’t almost died again have you?” 

And he stills. There was no almost about it.  He’s never had to tell anyone that he died. Everyone important to him had known before he did. He supposes that is a very exclusive club to be a part of, being able to tell people that you died. 

He clears his throat, “Well, um, I–kinda died a month ago?” He lets out a breath because he can. And she looks at him with wide eyes, “I’ve had close calls too, but–”

“Buck, that–”

“I know.”

Something shifts and he looks behind him and looks up to find Eddie looking around the store, eyes finally landing on Buck, an ounce of tension leaving his shoulders as he walks over. 

He tilts his head, “Ali?” 

She smiles up at him, “Hi, Eddie. It’s good to see you.” She gets up from the table. “I should head back. It was really good to talk, Buck.”

“I meant it. My number hasn’t changed either so just let me know and we will figure something out okay?” 

She nods and squeezes his hand one more time.

He watches her leave, his lip stuck between his teeth. 

#evan buckley #ali martin #911 #aj writes stuff #not really spec i just think it would be n8ice for them to talk

[athousandboxjumps]

“Start out sweating, end up sneezing”

aka: one giant newsies sick!fic cuz I’m once again planning out angst

Albert catches it first. Of course he does, the stubborn bastard refuses to wear sleeves. It starts with a chill that leaves him constantly shivering, then his face turns flushed and warm to the touch, until eventually he has a fever that leaves his bedridden and struggling to get warm.

The next day Specs feels a tightness in his chest. He insists that it’s nothing new, just allergies, but everyone knows better. His skin is clammy and he can’t stop sweating and then his entire body is aching so bad he barely moves.

It only spreads from there. Specs gives it to Romeo, who stayed by him all night. Romeo unwittingly passes it to Buttons, who passes it to Tommy Boy, who passes it to Splasher. Splasher, his tiny frame wracked with tremors, can’t stop coughing and wheezing. There are terrified glances amongst the still healthy boys who all fear their littlest brother may not survive.

All those still healthy who have accommodations outside of the lodging house are instructed by Kloppman to stay there for the next few days. Elmer goes back to his many siblings, saying a prayer that he doesn’t get any of them sick. Albert tells Race to stay either Spot in Brooklyn, but Race refuses. He was a surprisingly good immune system, and he’s not abandoning his family now. Besides Jack, who caught it from Henry, is out of commission which means he’s in charge. It reminds him of the strike, being woefully unprepared to help the boys who so desperately need him.

Davey, having sent Les home, keeps a cool washcloth on Jack’s forehead to try and lower his temperature. Mostly Jack mumbles in his I’ll delirium, but he has a moment of lucidity where Jack asks Davey if Crutchie can stay with the Jacobses for his safety. Crutchie vehemently refuses, especially after Finch gets so sick his skin turns a pale green. He has to practically he dragged out of the lodging house by Davey and Les. Crutchie knows it’s bad if he stays, he already has a weak constitution, but dammit he doesn’t want to leave Finch alone.

Davey, Les, Crutchie, and Race (who by some miracle is still healthy) pool together whatever they can to get a doctor. Kloppman pitches in, as does Miss Medda and Sister MacClare from the church thanks to some help from Elmer. Spot shows up to the Jacobs apartment unannounced early in the morning to drop off some addition change courtesy of Brooklyn. It takes what feels like a long while, but eventually they have enough.

The doctor comes and checks everyone over. He’s most concerned about Jack, Finch, Albert, and Splasher, but says that all things considered the boys are very lucky. Over the course of the next week, people improve. Crutchie is allowed to stay by Finch’s side again (which Finch is very embarrassed about but also very grateful). They know Albert is okay when one of Race’s cigars mysteriously disappears. Jack is up and moving the day after with Splasher on his shoulders.

After the scariest couple of weeks, they’re okay. Crutchie and Davey each with their boy by their side, thank their gods. They’re okay.

#stars is once again writing sad stuff oopsie daisy #hey luke I wrote another thing have fun #will this take me months to write like my other fic we’ll see #newsies #uksies #newsies uk #albert dasilva #specs newsies #splasher newsies #racetrack higgins #elmer kasprzak #jack kelly #david jacobs #crutchie morris #finch cortes #finch cortez #les jacobs #spot conlon #javid #javey #ralbert #crutchie x finch #birdcrutch #back on the birdcrutch grind #stars speaks #stars writes stuff

[maygrantgf]

hypotheticals can be poison

Teen • 3.7k • Buck/Eddie

“I’ve watched you and I’ve listened to you and I’ve forgiven you. So it just—” He cuts himself off as his voice hitches. To his horror he notices that he’s tearing up. He didn’t realize how deep the cut went until he started bleeding. He looks up at Buck and sees the tears in his eyes too and he falters, exhausted.

“When you said that, it just hurt a little.” He says numbly, his face blank.

or

sometimes words cut deeper than one might realize

read on ao3

#evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie fic #911 #911fic #911 fox #911 fanfic #spec fic #but not really!!! #i don't think this would actually happen but i wanted to write it ok #relly writes stuff #fic