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luminitewrites · 1 year

Text

Nova

Rating: T Word Count: ~5,700 Warnings: Brief memories of/current trauma from being swallowed alive, brief contemplation of death and what lies beyond

So after seeing the absolutely stunning art that @themeeplord posted of Naff's leviathan!Eclipse and fisher!Y/N, there's no way I could pass up writing a small something for it. I might have made Eclipse a tad bigger in this drabble purely for size difference purposes, but Meep's depiction of them is the inspiration for this piece. (I hope you don't mind the tag, Meep! ;w;) This drabble is based off of @naffeclipse's In Deep Dreams Between the Waves (so very highly recommend!!) and set sometime after it, so there will be allusions to spoilers herein.

Enjoy!

~~~

The siren call of the ocean lulls your boat as much as it does you. Out here in the vast expanse of endless water where sea merges with ocean, the gentle stirring of the morning sun has yet to reach full wakefulness, casting the sky in a beautiful watercolor of lush indigos and mellow purples. The breeze caressing your face tells you it will be a hot day, but for now, it’s a welcomed brush against your skin.

You’ve opted for a less-bundled-up attire since you know what and who awaits you shortly. The loose t-shirt flutters at your back, and your light shorts and bare feet bask in the open, salty air. Curling your toes in excitement, you cannot help the enchanted smile that has yet to leave your face. You’ve been looking forward to today as the rough weather in recent weeks has kept you from seeing your friend. Well, it probably wouldn’t have completely kept you at bay were it not for said friend being very insistent about you staying home to wait out the hurricane. Something about being safe and warm and taking care of your health. Complete bogus, if anyone were to ask you.

But, of course, Eclipse always has other ideas about what’s best for you, and after much bartering in your dreams and getting nowhere, you’d caved to his utterly ridiculous demands. The oversized mer has a habit of being just as obstinate as you. You’d once thought you could outmatch his stubbornness, but turns out, it’s hard to say no when his big eyes turn soft and pleading, like you’re breaking his heart by even considering stepping foot outside during a nasty storm. Never mind that it’d been because you’d wanted to see him. He’d been adamant that the visits in your dreams could sate your loneliness in the meantime.

Needless to say, you’ve been chomping at the bit to get out. The hurricane had been circling your little island like a harrowing shadow for over a week, but it finally began tapering off yesterday, and by nightfall, Eclipse gave you his reluctant approval to come out the following day.

He probably didn’t mean that as an excuse for you to sacrifice sleep and slip out before the break of dawn, but he almost certainly knew that without you needing to say anything suggestive of it last night. The memory of his narrowed gaze and disapproving pout still makes you chuckle even now, and you can only imagine that same expression on his face when he sees you out here.

You’ve already dropped anchor and settled at the edge of your boat with your legs dangling over it and your arms propped atop the railing. The breeze ruffles your hair as it pleases, and it tickles your ears while you hum to yourself a gentle tune. It’s a unique one that transcends time and the waves themselves, flowing from within your chest and playing a soothing chord that first tugs softly and then a little firmer.

When your voice starts to rouse and the first few notes whisper past your lips, an answering echo from far, far below sounds beneath your feet and travels across the ocean floor.

Instantaneous is the grin tugging at your cheeks, and you beam at the way the wind suddenly billows in a different direction and sends your trusty flag flapping like a resounding applause. Your Rustbucket II bobs up and down as the water begins to turn choppy, creating a thrill of a ride as you eagerly peer down into the inky blue.

As bubbles form below, you dismiss what most sailors would consider an omen and instead lean over the railing as much as you can while sitting. Your legs swish happily, your skin prickling when a shiver courses through you. To your surprise, however, the bubbles stop after a few suspenseful seconds. A flash of a large shadow is all you catch sight of, but your friend doesn’t surface as you’d expected. Confused, you wait a moment more and then pull your legs under you and stand up so that you can lean over the railing as far as you can without falling in.

“Eclipse?” you call out. Your head tilts to the side while you listen.

Nothing but ocean responds.

A frown replaces your smile, and you wonder if something has temporarily distracted the mer, and he’s swimming off to go chase a giant squid or something similar. Before you can settle back down and wait for him to return, a colossal burst thunders behind you without warning and rocks your boat. Gasping, you have all but a moment to spin on your heel as Eclipse breaches in a swift motion that sends a terrific cascade of water directly down onto your boat and consequently you.

In mere seconds, you are entirely drenched in seawater and sputtering.

Soaked hair draped over and blinding you, you sigh loudly and brush it out of your face. Far, far above, your friend gazes down with a textbook version of glee. As soon as he sees your expression, a harmonious warble not unlike a laugh rumbles from his chest.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” you say in faux exasperation while wringing the water out of your hair. “Not like you haven’t done this before.”

The mer lowers in the water until his head is level with you, ray-like frills flicking, and your bond tells you exactly what he’s thinking, as if he were saying the words aloud.

And yet, you still fall for it every time.

You roll your eyes, and Eclipse chitters his delight.

“I guess it’s not like I wasn’t going to get wet anyways,” you huff in defeat.

Deciding it’s a lost cause to drain the water from your dripping clothes, you trudge over to him instead, making sure to step carefully through the large puddles. Yellow overlaid by impenetrable black oversees your maneuvering to be certain you reach the other side safely. Once you’re within reach, Eclipse leans in a little more, allowing you to rest your small hand against his large head and press a kiss between his eyes despite the little trick he pulled on you.

You watch the sharp yellow disappear as he basks in your affection and croons an unmistakably happy song. It’s enough to warrant the return of your smile.

“Good morning, big guy,” you say against his wet scales. “Missed you.”

The sentiment is returned tenfold through your bond, staggering in its sincerity, and Eclipse’s love threatens to reduce you to a puddle. The companionship with the leviathan has altered you in ways you could have never dreamed of, making you forever grateful for the day you discovered and helped him when he was but a little fish. You wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world because a life without Eclipse is one you can’t fathom. He means everything to you.

As your thoughts shift, Eclipse hears them just as if you’d spoken, and a low sound purrs from his throat. He nuzzles you with utmost gentleness, and you press as close to him as you can.

Yeah, you missed this. Shared dreams are one thing, but having him here with you in the flesh is incomparable. It’s your lifeblood.

When you pull back, the leviathan peers at you again. His expression is so compassionate that it sets your heart soaring like you are a fish in the sea swimming alongside him. The excursions you’ve had with him in the deep blue aren’t too far from that feeling, and it’s set in the very plans you have for later today. You intend to spend as much time as you can with the mer, and that means taking a hearty swim with his current guiding you along.

However, whatever soft moment you’re sharing now is wholly ruined when Eclipse chooses then to open his mouth and drag his serpentine tongue all the way up your front.

You yelp at the unexpected lick, and very swiftly, you are drenched in more than just water.

“Eclipse!” you cry in dismay.

Orange and red frills flutter in contentment. There is no remorse on the other’s face.

“Now I’m covered in gross saliva!” you further protest to express just how disgruntled you are. You shake your hands, and two wet globs fling off.

Eclipse churrs and clicks unhelpfully. It’s a bit similar to the squeaks of a dolphin, and after a fruitless attempt to wipe your face as best as you can, you glower up at your talkative friend.

He seems to be cycling through a whole host of expressions today because the one staring you down is now unquestionably smug.

You snort at the little—large—devil.

“Just what was that for anyways?”

The mer considers for a moment and then tilts his head to the side a little, eyelids falling low like he’s miming sleep. Then, a massive hand lifts out of the water to gently poke a long claw at you, followed by a throaty grumble that shakes your boat.

Ah. So that’s what this is about, huh. Should’ve known skipping out on sleep would come back to bite, or rather, lick you. You can’t say you didn’t see this coming.

“I promise I got enough sleep all through that nasty hurricane,” you counter adamantly. Eclipse looks far from convinced, so you continue on. “Even still, I have a cabin I can always dip inside for a quick nap if need be. Or you can float on your back and snooze with me on top like we usually do. We have the whole day to ourselves, big guy. And besides, I thought you missed me.”

Eclipse releases another series of noises at that, which are just plain mournful, and the flood of insistent reassurance and concern makes you huff and smile.

“I know, I know. I’m just teasing. I think I’m allowed to since I’m currently covered in…” You sniff and then grimace. “Overwhelming fish breath and questionable fluids.”

More snaps and clicks, but none of them are truly offended. Eclipse matches your fake glare easily, and when you playfully stick out your tongue, his mouth curls with a croon, and he slithers his own tongue back out again.

You hastily retreat, hands lifting.

“Woah, there! Okay, message received. Put that thing back where it came from, or so help me, I’ll turn this boat around.”

Your friend blows out a warm gust of air that just heightens the sticky feeling all over your body, and your arms drop as the mer retracts his appendage with rampant amusement. Clearly, your threat was too transparent to be taken with any modicum of seriousness. Not that you expected Eclipse to believe it for a second anyways. He knows just how much you’ve been aching to see him, and even without the words to verbalize it, he’s showing how much he’s missed you too. You haven’t missed the little display of the fins and frills around his head upon his arrival. They’ve been fluttering since you first spoke, a subtle indicator of your friend’s elated state.

Maybe it’s in a sign of good faith or repentance, but Eclipse gingerly rests a large hand palm-up on your boat right next to you. An offer. You consider the translucent webbing between the smooth surface of his digits like it houses a tremendously difficult question you don’t already know the answer to. A few moments you spend hemming and hawing in exaggeration, and to his credit, Eclipse waits patiently—hopefully—for you to hop on, the ocean churning noticeably from the swishing of his powerful tail.

You give a plaintive sigh.

“I suppose I can acquiesce this one request,” you say, snickering at the uncontrollable, excited thumping against the side of your boat from Eclipse’s fins.

He eagerly curls and uncurls his fingers as you step around the sprawled drape of the scarlet frills that adorn his wrist, planting your hands first on his palm and then crawling across until you’re seated in the middle. You’ve learned from experience that it’s best to remain off your feet when being lifted if you want to retain your balance. Eclipse will never let you fall and would almost certainly help you to remain standing if you wobbled, but sitting down for the little ride grants you a bit more stability.

With the utmost care, the mer hoists you out of your boat and over to him. He nuzzles you once more with a soft coo, and then he lowers into the water until only his head and the hand you rest upon aren’t submerged.

You smile up at him.

“Thanks, big guy, but I’m already wet, so I might as well wash this off.”

Eclipse churrs and sinks a little deeper so that the water just laps over his palm. You pat him in appreciation, and he curiously watches as you begin to cup the ocean in your hands and rinse your face and then scrub at your body.

It doesn’t take long to get to a somewhat reasonably clean state again, though you doubt anything in Eclipse’s saliva would be truly harmful to you. The pungent smell, however, might be downright criminal, and that’s saying something because you’ve been around fish for years. But at the end of the day, it’s worth it because it’s still part of your friend, and you wouldn’t change anything about him.

Once the sticky substance has washed away, you lean back on your hands, and Eclipse’s large fingers press protectively at your back. His contentment is visible in the shine of glowing yellow and the peaceful glaze of his languid movements. He floats in place next to your boat with the waves barely disturbing him. The magnitude of his size strikes you yet again despite how much time you’ve spent at his side all these years. Maybe the separation brought on by the storm afflicted your memory of his stature, but you don’t mind the awe that fills you at the leviathan or how small you suddenly feel in his grasp.

You’ve never been safer in the claws of a mer, and that will never fail to warm your heart.

Eclipse trills at the emotions shared through your bond, and with a melted expression, he draws you closer. You are gently deposited atop his chest, and once you’re sure of your footing, you approach his beaming maw. The mer meets you halfway, and when your arms embrace him as much as they can, he releases a slow breath that chases away any chill from the water.

Together, you stay like that in the quiet stillness of dawn, the first cracks of light just kissing the horizon. The world is waking up once more, and you have been given the best greeting of all. After days of restlessness and anxiety and longing, your mind is finally at ease. It’s a serenity that touches your soul, mirroring the same peace from your friend.

Sometimes, a shadow of a terrible memory graces your consciousness, and phantoms of ghastly yellow and purple snap at you. Those awful, living nightmares have grown less obtrusive as the months have passed, fading ever steadily with the more time you spend on the waves with Eclipse. You know you are safe now. There are some things that take more than reassurance to overcome, however, set off by triggers that you’re still learning to pinpoint, but with time and exposure to the sea that is a second home to you, the initial flinching and brief bursts of fright will diminish.

Eclipse’s presence has been grounding all the while. He’s stuck with you through every crest and trough, understanding your inner turmoil better than any explanation you could try to come up with. He’s felt your fear and pain and determined that it’s now his to bear as well if it means it will bring you comfort and recovery sooner. The memories are no less horrible for him too, and you occasionally catch a glimpse of his remembrance of prying apart serrated jaws and reaching for your frantic form.

It’s a shared burden between the two of you. You will see it through together.

A shiver that can’t be blamed on the breeze travels through your body.

Sensing the direction of your thoughts, Eclipse curls his webbed hand even more so around your comparatively smaller frame, like he’s letting you know that he won’t ever let anything take you away from him again. A quiet purr vibrates from his chest, and he nudges you with his cheek until you look up at him again. His scales are creased with worry, but you pet one of his claws to reassure him.

“I’m alright, big guy. I’ve got you here, don’t I?”

Better words couldn’t have been chosen as your leviathan chitters in agreement. The sound soothes the worries of your mind, chased by the fearsome predator who has become your protector. You enjoy the intimate moment with him and the heart-skipping way he stares at you leaning into his grasp.

But that’s all abruptly broken by a thunderous growl that shakes through your feet.

In an instant, Eclipse looks mightily embarrassed, and you flash a grin.

“Someone’s hungry,” you tease, tapping your foot to indicate the petulant thrum that had come from his stomach further down.

The mer shakes water off his frills like a dog, sniffing the air and frowning before his pupils constrict, and his head snaps downward and off to the side at the water. It would seem he’s already locked on to a potential prey. You wonder if he’s about to tear off in the direction of said prey, but Eclipse tips his head back over at you, frills twitching with anticipation. He then taps the tip of a finger at your stomach in question.

You do your best to keep your smile from twisting.

“Not quite a fan of eating raw fish, thanks. This one’s all you, buddy.”

Eclipse emits a distinct whine at your refusal, rays drooping.

“I’ll eat later, promise. It’s still early for breakfast anyways. But I guess I could always just take a chomp out of you if you want me to eat fish so bad, huh?”

Three rapid clacks of sharp teeth are your answer, Eclipse pretending to snap them at you instead like maybe he’ll take a nibble out of you, and you giggle at the fake threat. He squints at you, supposedly very intimidating, you’re sure. His fins flap against the surface of his water much like his tail, and the loud whoosh of air from his gills sounds like a heavy sigh.

“Adorable,” you remark, and Eclipse puffs, his ray-like frills expanding like an orange peacock. “Yes, yes, you’re very big and scary. Now go catch your breakfast, you oversized guppy.”

An aggrieved grumble from the mer shakes through your body, and Eclipse sinks into the deep, pausing long enough to make sure you’re treading water easily enough on your own once you’re submerged.

You give him a little wave, legs swishing beneath you, and a flash of warmth stirs in your chest in response from him.

The giant mer disappears from sight rather quickly, likely sensing the direction his prey has swam off to. He won’t be gone long. You’re confident in his hunting abilities, and the only times it takes awhile are when he’s feeling playful and turning it into a game.

Without the support of your friend to keep you afloat, you paddle over to your boat to conserve your energy. A quick climb up your ladder, and you’re aboard once more and perusing the still water-logged floor with a shake of your head. Your mild disapproval is countered by a sense of indignation within your core from the mer far below.

Not my fault.

Even when he’s focused on hunting, he’s always got to get his two cents in. You snort and step across the slick surface into your cabin.

While food isn’t exactly on your mind right now, you do find something special in sharing a meal together, so you decide to rummage through your kitchenette for a small snack. There are some granola bars you’ve stashed in a cabinet exactly for this reason, so after snagging one, tearing off the wrapper, and disposing the trash in the bin so you won’t have to worry about it later, you shuffle back outside.

The sun is still in its infancy, but the thin streams of light are already casting a new layer of warmth. The streaks of burnt orange remind you of your beloved mer, rippling across the darkly painted sky. Minutes trickle by with nothing but nature for miles, allowing your thoughts to meander. As you take in its beauty, you’re reminded of its resilience and how it will continue to exist long after you’ve passed. The sun will continue to rise and set; the waves will continue to crash and roll and traverse the world. It makes you wonder, head tipping up to admire the stars, what it will be like one day when your and Eclipse’s time comes to an end. There is assurance in that you will go together, bound so intrinsically as mer and human. Such an occurrence is far down in the future, barely conceivable when you have so much life left to live with Eclipse, but as you stand under the starlight’s ever watchful gaze, you muse quietly.

Will you trade a life on the water for an eternity in the stars? Will the galaxies become your new waves, the constellations your new islands? What will it be like to explore the great expanse that rivals even your tremendous ocean?

Your vision shuts to the ethereal light, and you feel the answer in your soul that returns from the leviathan himself.

Harmony. It will be harmony, entwined with you and him forever singing that sweet song that ties you in scarlet thread.

Smile warmer than the sleepy sun, you’re not at all surprised when you hear a splash and open your eyes to see your close friend next to your boat again, waiting patiently for you to emerge from being lost in thought. His tender love is palpable, resonating from deep within your chest and guiding you over to him. As you near, you notice the edge of a tail fin poking out of his maw, and a snicker escapes you.

“Breakfast was successful, I take it?”

Eclipse hums and then in a perfectly unnecessary act opens his mouth to show you just how big of a catch he got. His rows of teeth have expertly speared the swordfish, and while impressive, you know why he’s showing off.

You hold up a hand dismissively.

“Yeah, still not happening.” You wave your granola bar under Eclipse’s dissatisfied scrutiny when he seals his maw shut in suspicion. “I found something else to munch on instead. Extra nutritious. You want some?”

Eclipse hisses like you personally offended him, and you bite back a laugh as you break off a piece of your snack and toss it in your mouth. Last time you tried to feed him some of your “nasty human food,” he wheezed and spat out the microscopic morsel and then proceeded to drag his claws against his tongue like you’d terrorized his tastebuds. He’s so goofily dramatic when it comes to most of your meals and snacks that don’t involve seafood, and he plays it up extra just for you because you adore his theatrics. You know as much because you’d asked him once why he’d reacted that way, and he’d answered with a photographic memory of your face flushed from laughter and your arms clutching your stomach from a time not too long prior.

Needless to say, your cheeks had immediately turned hot yet again, that time for a different reason, and you’d tried and failed to brush off Eclipse’s endeared cooing at your fluster.

He’s such a rascal. Wily prankster of a mer. You more than cherish him.

Taking another bite of your snack, you lean against the railing while Eclipse begins to chew on his meal. You know that one fish won’t be enough to feed a mer his size, but it’ll at least be enough to stave off his hunger for a little bit. The warmth in your core tells you Eclipse isn’t eager to leave your side for longer than necessary. He’s just as intent on companionship as you are.

Swallowing the mouthful of granola, you say, “I brought my pan flute with me again. Maybe we can give your song another shot later today?”

A tremendous purr rumbles across the waves. At the same time, the contentment behind your sternum spikes, and you sigh happily.

“I think I’ve got the first part down,” you add. “It’s what follows after that I’m struggling with, so it’s a good thing I’ve got such a talented conductor to help me.”

Eclipse’s delight transforms to a small grumble with an undertone of disapproval. His tail whacks the water behind him, and the giant mer gives you a disbelieving, reprimanding look.

Talented yourself.

Not expecting that, you smile sheepishly and chuckle a little.

“Thanks. I don’t mean to make it sound like I’m downplaying my abilities. Although your song isn’t exactly made for human lungs, you know.”

Dark pupils roll.

Siren song, comes the dry rebuttal. Natural. Weak human lungs.

You blow a raspberry.

“I’ll have you know I’ve got rather strong lungs for a human! And I can hold air for a long while too, which is why I’m even able to keep up with those drawn-out notes of yours.”

By this point, Eclipse has finished swallowing the fish he caught, and the bumpy texture of his burgundy tongue flicks dangerously across his teeth. The air charges with his intrigued hum, and you can sense your mistake the second you catch the mischief in his stare. Orange and crimson fins flutter, and a colossal maw nears until it hovers inches in front of you.

You’re already taking a cautious step back when the thought flashes in your head, one that is not your own.

Let’s test it then, the susurrous taunt curls around your mind, snaking like a low voice against the shell of your ear, and the blur of an arm is too fast for you to dodge.

“Eclipse!” you shriek with a laugh as the leviathan gently but gleefully snatches you up from your boat and brings you back into the water.

Your meager granola bar is lost to the waves and fish, but it barely catches your notice as the smug mer yet again deposits you on his chest, sinking onto his back with almost-feline elegance. The frills surrounding his face fan out like a blood-orange sunflower as they float in the water. Eclipse’s lower arms begin to lightly pedal across the waves, circling but not straying you and him too far from your boat. With his other hands, he keeps them cupped around you, preventing you from slipping off or getting away.

You know what he wants, can read his intent in the quiver of anticipation rebounding from your core that sings with the desire to dive. But the large mer is waiting for your approval first, not wanting to take you under without checking in regardless of his former tease. The considerate patience chases away the tepid air and flushes your heart with something even hotter.

Your smile is small and appreciative.

“Of course, I don’t mind taking a swim with you. I’ve gotta prove my little human lungs can outlast yours, right?” You pat against his chest. “Show me what you’ve got, big guy.”

Sharp teeth glisten wetly, Eclipse giving a hearty chortle at your challenge. His translucent fins catch the sunlight just as it skips across the indigo waves and reaches you, creating speckles of white gold atop every crest. Eclipse waits for you to take a few deep breaths in preparation, your lungs filling with air until you give him a nod. With a sweet smile, the mer begins to tip backward, sinking headfirst underwater with his hand cupping you all the while as you take the plunge together.

The water is bitterly cold the moment it touches your skin, and you instinctively squeeze your eyes shut at first as the ocean swallows you whole. But you’ve nothing to worry about in the grasp of your friend who keeps you clutched to a warm chest, the beating of his heart strong under your form even with layers of muscle between you and it. The steady thrum is like a lullaby setting your mind at ease, and soon, the flash of nervousness at diving dissipates like it was never there to begin with.

A soft whisper of your name, wrapped in endless patience, coaxes you with a singular want. You feel a second arm slipping behind you, the first slipping lower, which is followed by a large palm spreading at your back and prickling at the strands of your floating hair, covering your entire frame with its size. In careful slowness, you dare to peek through just a crack despite the salty sting of the ocean. You want to see, just for a moment, and the second you do, you are so delighted you took the risk.

The brightness of the sun does not yet penetrate the surface of the deep, but it casts enough light to turn the ocean into an underwater paradise basked in violet hues.

Upside down, you and Eclipse float in the beautiful display of color that transitions from light to dark, the expanse above your head an incredibly rich sapphire. With every swish of his tail and flap of his frills, Eclipse creates a plume of bubbles that catch the thin light in this flipped world. Your legs curl tightly around his slick frame as much as possible, and a bountiful rumble erupts from your friend. He embraces you until there is no room left to spare, and your arms do their best to wrap around him as much as possible.

Golden eyes shine like pure light in the dim purple glow that is incrementally turning lavender while the sun climbs. Eclipse purrs greatly so that you can hear it even underwater. His heart pounds next to yours, a duet not unlike the song that the mer has sung for you since life was still so new to you and him. Age has not withered the exceptionality of it, but it has made you yearn for it all the more. You doubt you will ever stop longing to be close to Eclipse, and you can feel in your chest that he is much the same for you.

Suspended in place in the arms of your closest friend, you find breathing becomes meaningless. The separation that had kept you trapped on your small island and away from him is no more. Finally, you are together again, reunited under a fading starlit sky and within the pleasant rocking of a calm ocean. Home, at last.

Once your lungs begin to ache, your eyes slip shut, and your smile grows when Eclipse presses his to yours. You happily nuzzle him right back, content to just hold each other like this in the morning quiet where nothing and no one disturbs you. The graze of his frills tickles your cheeks while he keeps you close. You stroke the ones you can reach at the sides of his head, and your movement is mirrored by the light carding of a claw through your hair and along the base of your scalp. The intimacy of it threatens to bring tears behind your eyelids, but any and all drops are carried away by the ocean when your eyelashes flutter with your cautious squint.

Eclipse rubs his scaly cheek against yours for a quick, last nuzzle. Though you’d prefer to remain suspended upside-down like this beneath the waves with him, your friend has your preservation on the front of his mind, and he sweeps his tail in a powerful stroke that rights you and him and brings you back to the suncatcher waves.

A prism of droplets sprays across the surface when you’re brought back up to blessed air that your lungs greedily take back in. After a hasty brush of your hand, you blink away the remnants of saltwater. Your lips twitch.

“I think I definitely outlasted you this time, big guy,” you playfully boast.

Scarlet fins flutter in amusement. Eclipse snorts.

If you say so, sea star.

You hum and tap a finger indecisively, rubbing one of his sharper points against your thumb.

“Well, I might be persuaded otherwise. I guess we won’t know unless we try again, will we?” Your smile flirts on the edge of a grin, but what Eclipse returns with next is enough to stun you.

If that is what you wish. Wherever you want to go, the ghost of an answer dances along your consciousness, I will follow.

His amber gaze is flooded with a softness that makes your heart quicken while you’re choked by nothing related to the air you breathe.

It’s funny, you think, how the universe works. To think that you would find your lifelong partner, someone who fits with you like a puzzle piece, out among the waves. Like you were made for each other, regardless of species or place or form.

Here in the embrace of your soulmate, you’ve found everything you need.

Eclipse warbles in surprise when you lean up and press a kiss to his forehead. There, you linger, shutting your gaze to the caress of his silky frills and the salty tang of his home filling your nose. The arms holding you wrap tighter, a third and fourth finding purchase around any part of you that isn’t covered like he can’t touch enough of you.

Your drenched hair runs rivulets down your cheeks, hiding the evidence of your pure happiness that wells inside you and sneaks past wet eyelashes. A faint sound stirs from the leviathan, dipping into a low tune that makes you bury your face in his precious rays and quietly sing along with him his siren call.

You don’t end up ever really responding to his avowal, but you think Eclipse understands you all too well. Locked together like this, you greet the morning as a reunited pair while the memories of a troubled past float away on the seafoam to break on a distant shore.

#*waves* hi Naff! hi Meep!#eclipse x reader #in deep dreams between the waves au #in deep dreams between the waves fanfic #fnaf sb #writing tag #mermay au #mer!eclipse #so I wrote 90% of this on the day Meep posted that breathtakingly gorgeous art #and then life got absolutely nuts for me for like 3 weeks straight #so I didn't have time to write at all until today asklkgjld #also here's a very random fun fact:#the whole time I was writing this #the Land Before Time II soundtrack kept playing in my head #anyone know that one scene from when the two T. rexes reunite with their baby and press their heads together like a happy family?#that scene and the music that plays during it is all I could think of while writing this because Meep's art just reminded me of it so much #I hadn't even heard it since I was a child but writing this just reawakened a core memory of mine #and that was my favorite movie as a kid so of course I had to write this drabble while listening to the music <3 #sorry for rambling in the tags about something completely unrelated lol #hope everyone is having a good day/night!

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eliotquillon · 9 months

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just finished the rwrb movie and although i really enjoyed it (and was kicking my feet giggling the whole time) i do have a couple of major criticisms, some of which i think aren’t really the movie’s fault because they had to fit a whole book into 2 hours, but some of which left me kind of disappointed:

-i feel slightly icky that bea and nora got their screentime SIGNIFICANTLY reduced even after june got cut entirely (which i was upset about, but did understand). i loved zahra and adored her on screen but i do think it’s very odd that she is pretty much the only major female character in this movie since bea was nonexistent and nora got permanently spirited away to pez’s bed or something sometime during the second act

-it felt like a lot of the internal conflict in alex and henry’s relationship was very unbalanced and henry heavy - alex’s neurodivergence was erased, his bi epiphany was barely even an epiphany, and him not being explicitly kicked off the campaign after ellen finds out about him and henry essentially killed his whole subplot about realising he doesn’t need to have everything achieved at thirty and deciding he wants to apply to law school instead. which wouldn’t have been terrible but on the flipside it felt weird that we didn’t see very much of henry’s family considering how much they affect and shape his fear of being outed and his feeling of being in a glass cage - e.g bea’s treatment by the media during her active addiction (which was entirely erased), the extent of the tension between him and philip. felt like henry’s pov scenes were a super wasted opportunity for that and we were mostly just being Told about all of these things

-i am not actually that mad about oscar and ellen still being together lol but i felt like in the scene with oscar smoking the cigar on the balcony they were kinda building up to there being significant strain in his and ellen’s relationship that just wasn’t explored. especially since it’s clear oscar would never be able to be president because he’s not a natural born citizen + the sacrifice of his career for ellen’s is so much bigger now that he’s first gentleman in this version

-pacing in general was a bit off but the worst offender was the fact that there was a complete time skip between the alex henry confrontation/reconciliation and the outing. so much of the tension and desperation from that outing scene comes from the fact that the risk of it happening was slowly increasing throughout the book and it felt almost inevitable (the elevator cctv being leaked, henry having to fake date june) and honestly making it so abrupt weirdly reduced a lot of its impact for me

-similarly i actually completely understand why the richards plot / rafael luna plot was cut (i suspect republican election interference hits a bit too close to home after 2020) but my god was miguel a lame fucking villain and him being queer and hispanic erased a lot of the original commentary about racism and homophobia that the richards plot lent itself to. like in general this movie was a lot lighter than the book which is fine! but for a movie where the main subplot is a presidential election So Much of the political themes were heavily neutered or cut to the point that it seemed like the pressure on henry and alex’s relationship was disproportionately coming from henry’s side when in the book it was more balanced

again on the whole i really really loved this movie and i knew going in that certain changed were going to be made. and i hope more movies get made like it! these r just my Thots and i may change my mind when i rewatch it with my friend tomorrow

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #putting this in the tags but the movie actually kind of emphasised a lot of the problems i have with the book #re: gender at least #i remember first reading the book in 2019 and being upset that june giving up so many of her dreams #to support her family wasnt explored more #like with her ex boyfriend who it was implied she still kind of had feelings for but had moced to california #it also feels slightly disingenuous that casey hyped up bea/nora so much after the teaser scene of them talking was revealed #except that was the only scene they ever interacted in. ever #and i know it’s not that deep I KNOWWWW #but i’ve been thinking a lot about fandom treatment of women lately #and weirdly this movie kind of exemplifies a lot of the issues i have witb fandom as a whole and not just rwrb #anyway.

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nerosdayinanime · 11 months

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feral giyuu beloved

hes gonna fucking kill Shinazugawa

so Sanemi pulls his stab-the-baby bullshit which terrifies Tanjiro, thinking he'd try to open the box next to burn her in the sun. as soon as Giyuu registers his distress all the tension he'd be holding in snaps violently- he lurches forward out of the lineup and lunges at Sanemi with the ferocity of an actual demon. Sabito and everyone else are stunned in place as Giyuu punches him hard enough to send him to the gravel, snatches Nezuko's box from him and leaps back pulling Tanjiro behind him. He stands there posed protectively in front of them, every muscle tensed ready to move as he stares Sanemi down snarling as loud as thunder. Obanai Mitsuri and Tengen are cringing back- Obanai because hes closest aside from Sanemi and can smell the intense sea-salt & pine through his mask, Mitsuri because shes an Omega Prime and the warning growl/threat scent affects her more, and Tengen because the sharp ring of loathing in the growl hurts his head. Sabito's still in the lineup baring his fangs, struggling to keep calm and not make the situation any worse for his partner despite the anxiety of the situation.

"Don't fucking touch them." "I didn't even touch your stupid brat!" "YOU STABBED HER!"

Everyone startles at the implication of that- Sanemi growls and starts berating him for imprinting on a demon, stomping closer, calling him a traitor for attacking him. Giyuu leans forward ready to rip out his throat at a moments notice, not lunging solely because Tanjiro's holding onto the back of his haori pleading for them not to fight. Sabito finally snarls and stands up- Kyojuro Mitsuri & Tengen follow, fully expecting to have to intervene when the three of them start tearing each other to shreds, "SIT!. ALL OF YOU!." He snaps, harshly grabbing Sanemi by the shoulder and shoving him down. Sanemi starts to protest but Sabito leans over him threateningly and grabs his throat, "You stay fucking put. You're already 5 feet down and i suggest you stop digging any further." Sanemi stares back at him, gripping the arm holding his neck, but doesn't do or say anything else, the others hesitantly settle back down. He lets go and straightens up, looking back at the other hashira, "We're going to sit here and wait for Oyakata-sama like civilized people," a pointed look at Sanemi, "Are we agreed upon?." When everyone murmurs in agreement he nods to Giyuu and kneels next to Sanemi, barricading him and the other hashira from Giyuu Tanjiro and Nezuko.

Giyuu finally stops growling and posturing, hesitating for a moment before turning and fretting over the two of them for a bit- they finally sit down when he calms. When Kagaya arrives hes immediately hit with the tension and thick fear-anger-stress scent filling the courtyard and asks what happened. Sanemi opens his mouth- Sabito slaps a hand under his chin and closes it again. Shinobu and Kyojuro pipe up, explaining that they were questioning the boy when Shinazugawa went ahead and stabbed the demon in the box, how Urokodaki stepped up and ...convinced everyone to sit back down. He finally brings out Sakonji's letter and asks everyone else to allow it like he did. Sanemi of course objects and asks to prove the demon's real nature. Giyuu immediately snaps at him to shut the fuck up- he's already done enough stabbing his fucking cub. Kagaya recognizes the gravity of the situation and offers Giyuu to come inside so he can check on her (and maybe possibly also show everyone else shes not so bad-). Giyuu quickly takes up the offer and pulls Tanjiro over with him in the far corner- Sabito follows them to the edge of the engawa and stands guard there between them and the other hashira.

Giyuu sits down in front of her box and gently opens it, little Nezuko crawling out and looking around for a moment. She sees the blood on Tanjiro's face and tries to wipe it off with her sleeve, Giyuu makes pointed eye contact with Sanemi and carefully cleans Tanjiro's face off. Nezuko patiently sits in his lap until he pats her head and inspects the damage to her clothes. The other hashira are talking, arguing maybe- he doesn't care enough to tell. "Shinazugawa, you owe me 5 yen." "The fuck do i owe you for jackass!?" "Thread, for the fucking HOLE you put through her-" "Ah!- Giyuu-san its fine!-"

Eventually its decided they'll let her live for now, "I also offer to take them in to the Butterfly Mansion, if that's okay with Tomioka-san." Giyuu notices the peace-offering look she gives him when she says that. "...I'll allow it.." Tanjiro herds Nezuko back into her box and Giyuu growls at the kakushi who try to pick up Nezuko's box. He puts the box on himself, Tanjiro tries to assure them he can walk on his own and immediately buckles when he puts pressure on his injured leg. Giyuu picks him up and carries the both of them out and to the butterfly mansion while Sabito stays for the rest of the meeting

#loserboy giyuu posting #neros art tag #abo sabigiyu surprise adoption au #giyuu dipped as soon as he could he did NOT want to stay around that mess any longer than he had to lmao #hes never been so junked up on adrenaline before- he dropped the two of them off in Aoi's care and went to run off the rest of it with a #few laps between the estate and the nearby village. grabbed some more thread while he was there #oh yeah i didnt talk about the mt natagumo scene w rui & shinobu #he was super panicky about possibly losing them to a lower moon so soon- he got there in time though and had that whole convo w tanjiro #abt not hesitating to slay demons- he was swayed by tanjiro and grabbed rui's clothes after he ran from shinobu. had em stuffed in his #sleeve the whole time- probably asked the btfy trio to wash it for him and gave it to tanjiro #tanjiro told him about the little family lower 5 was trying to make with the other demons- how he must've been trying to replace the family #he lost and going about it the wrong way given how happy the spider mother was to die. he smelled so profoundly *sad* when he was dying #giyuu gets why hes so sympathetic to demons like that. he doesnt really feel the same but he understands. hes just happy tanjiro found a #balance between his kind nature and his job as a slayer- he doesnt have to sacrifice his kindness and he doesnt have to sacrifice his *life #sabito eventually arrives w shinobu & fills giyuu in on the meeting stuff- they also talk about that little bit about 'his cub'#'what about it? they're ours now.' 'giyuu you cant just adopt-' 'i dont wanna hear that from you *urokodaki*' 'touche. they're ours now'#giyuu #tomioka giyuu #giyuu tomioka #sabito #kny sabito #sabito lives au #sabigiyuu #kamado tanjiro #kamado nezuko #originally it was supposed to just be a redraw but my obsession w sharp teeth won out #giyuu beloved #next im gonna try to draw somethin w giyuu original design #that fuckboy w the slutty gloves

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identityquest · 1 month

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lizzie get two wolves 👍

#strato.txt #oil painting #wip #im worried ive unbalanced the composition w the second one on the right tho... its so much closer to the edge #ugh whatever. aunt lizzie is the focus here #i wish i knew what she actually looked like this is just cobbled together from general features of my family #solid build... dark curly hair... bigass ears. she could be one of my cousins. she could be me #ok rq im gonna lay out the story in the tags for anyone who hasnt seen the previous lizzie art #my great-something aunt lizzie was disabled and couldnt walk very well and she died young #she wanted to see the second floor of the farm house real bad but no one ever carried her up there and she died before seeing it #they buried her in a long white dress somewhere down at the creek. we dont know where her graves lost unfortunately #the night she was buried something wearing a white dress walked into the house and up the stairs and disappeared #and sometimes you can hear her down around the creek screaming #somewhere along the line wolves got mixed into the imagery for me #my uncle told me a story about another 'white thing' that was wolfish and would jump on cars #so i just assumed lizzie was a werewolf my whole life #anyways. i think her staying after she died was a manifestation of her desire for autonomy. maybe #maybe if shed had modern accommodations she wouldnt have felt the need to stick around. or maybe she would have idk #either way i think death afforded her control over her own desires in a way she hadnt experienced before #and i think thats why she still hangs around the creek #i hope she would like this. maybe ill take it down there and leave it out for a night when its finished so she can see

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spicyicymeloncat · 11 months

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Crying about mao mao and how I’m never going to see that incredibly traumatised cat again

#WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO THE TAGS BUTTON #WHY DO THEY KEEP CHANGING EVERYTHING #BUT I STILL CANT USE DOUBLE QUOTATIONS MARKS IN MY TAGS #Sorry that was quite unrelated #mao mao was such a good show #the mc literally lived through life having the goofiest time and it was bc he had extreme daddy issues #actually the whole show was so freaking goofy but at the same time the main characters had like the darkest backstories and were mega coping #as a found family #and I loved them so much #why did the capitalists take this from us #not allowed nice things istg #i’m gonna start crying #mao mao heroes of pure heart #mmhoph #mao mao

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fudgecake-charlie · 4 months

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sorry i havent been online i listened to one of my narrative playlists and ended up stuck down a fl Seeking plotline rabbit hole on the wiki. walked out there no longer normal, covered in wounds and wax and betrayal etc. don't talk to me about it. tag ramble

#the words of a fudgecake #this ramble will only make sense if you know what SMrEN is lol #ik the mcyt flau exists and i love it to pieces however. what if i was batshit insane and put my blorbos through the seeking road storylet.#not a fan of a lot of the storyline writing dont get me wrong but the concept of seeking is brilliantly fucked up #AGAIN DONT TALK TO ME ABOUT IT (/lh) i already had way too many thoughts reading through the whole thing properly #can you imagine renchanting seeking the name though. desert duo. boat boys. how fucked up that would be. and then turning back #like i dont care about mr well-guy actually i just care about the concept of destroying everything you were #to ask a question you wont like the answer of but HAVE to because its a sunk cost fallacy #and also some of the candles. the no candle my beloved <3<3 #(not giving direct names because i dont want this to get main tagged on accident)#yes its 5am yes ive been on about this for the past 6 hours. my other excuses are i was reading a fic and cooked for the family

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rakkuntoast · 5 months

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i swear if qforever doesnt get a nice and healing reunion with richas and tallulah i am exploding that server myself

#txt post #cw caps #a shit ton of caps in the tags #HOW HARD IS IT TO WISH THIS CUBITO SOME FUCKING HAPPINESS #EVERY TIME I REMEMBER ABT FOREVER CUBITO I FEEL AWFUL MY LITTLE GUY HASNT HAD A BREAK IN SO LONG #MOSTLY CUZ PEOPLE CONSTANTLY GIVE HIM SHIT AND ISOLATE HIM SINCE HE'S THE FUCKING PRESIDENT NOW AND DONT EVEN TREAT HIM AS MUCH OF A FRIEND #ANYMORE AND JUST HOLD HIM AT ARMS REACH. HE FEELS ALONE AND HOPELESS #LITERALLY THE ONLY PEOPLE THAT STILL TREAT HIM LIKE THEY TREATED HIM BEFORE THE WHOLE PRESIDENT THING BULLSHIT IS HIS DAMN FAMILY AND PHIL #AND MAYBE BAGHS TOO I CANT REMEMBER #man feels like no one trusts him anymore cuz hes “part of the feds” when he's not actually as involved as people make it seem #literally the only official mission he has ever done for the feds was the whole go to the nether get lost lmao L bozo #his position in the federation can literally just be reduced to the one who represents the islanders as a whole in the eyes of the feds #like god every time someone refers to him by his actually name instead of “the president” an angel regains its wings #cuz yeah he has to carry the burden of his position but that doesnt mean im not allowed to complain that everyone is pushing him away for i #like fuck. phil telling him that he trusts him and cares about him before forever went to the nether meant the fucking world to him #“phil nailed it down in the minute what was happening. im glad i can rely on him” <- not verbatim but like. cmon

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bummie4dummies · 7 days

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as long as there is an ocean ✧ read on ao3

the abyssal plains of tommy's subconscious are littered with the carcasses of his father's favorite adages.

no matter how valiant his attempts have been to pry them free — and despite the meticulous, delicate nature of his methods — it seems that many of the sea-skeletons have been left sitting beyond salvation, now inextricable from waterlogged sediment. they're too far-sunk to extract safely; if lucky enough not to crumple like a sheet of discarded tissue paper on the journey down, he'd explode his lungs to red mist on the way back up to the surface. it's almost easier if he imagines them this way, as broken fragments of corpses too fragile to exhume:

the fleshy tissue of a half-eaten squid — actions speak louder than words. the crushed shell of an unfortunate lobster — beggars can't be choosers. the rotting remains of a clever eel — boys who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones. the ribcage and spine of a starved shark — do as i say, not as i do.

one saying in particular has been mummifying for longer than the others, a giant humpback frozen in a state of watery decay, embalmed in the sandy gunk of his darkest trenches — keep your shoulders straight and your head on straighter. oft punctuated with a caustic, kid.

it's pretty ironic, considering the fact that tommy kinard has nary a straight bone in his body. maybe that's why the line burrowed itself so thoroughly into the deepest, slimiest crooks of the substrate of his mind, slow-growing algae coating the slippery crevices of his hippocampus to rankle him perpetually. tommy hasn't spoken directly with his old man in years; these days he couldn't if he wanted to, or at least not without a ouija board and an uncharacteristic flair for masochism, neither of which he cares to equip himself with.

nevertheless, the phantom whale fall of his father's most-reliable phrase continues to nourish the last hungry, lonely fish left scouring the ocean floor of tommy's mind. nearly every move he makes is centered around practicality, every decision sewn together by threads of vigilance and observation.

with nearly four decades of practice and application under his belt, he's gotten good at keeping his shoulders straight, and gay as he may be, he thinks his head's on just fine, although such would be a contradictory and controversial statement upon the ears of one thomas kinard, senior. thankfully he'll never have to hear it.

tommy can live with his own amendment to the man's words because tommy knows himself and therefore knows the truth. his posture is excellent and he's a considerably level-headed guy. he can't be straight; he doesn't want to be. what he can be is pragmatic. he can be logical, he can be useful, he can be rational. he can be quite capable and, as it turns out, even likable. he can be funny, and charming, and vulnerable with the right people. he can be queer, he can be gay, he can be loved, he can love. he can become without becoming unmoored.

for thirty-some good years, tommy kinard does a bang-up job at keeps his shoulders straight and his head on just fine. he's pushing forty when he meets evan buckley and eddie diaz.

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evan buckley and eddie diaz exist as a singular entity within the confines of tommy's skull. two sides of the same coin, grumbles the detached jaw of an imaginary anglerfish.

it takes some effort to extract one from the other, but tommy finds ways. over mutual interests in muay thai, basketball, and helicopters, he and eddie become fast friends. over mutual interests in each other's inquisitive minds, curious hands, and wanting mouths, he and evan become even faster lovers.

he makes out with one of them, roughhouses with the other; it all feels the same, gets identical synapses firing. he knocks eddie to the mat, steals spit-flecked exhales off of the inches of air near his wild-grinning lips and brings them home for buck to drink down, licking them into his ravenous mouth, delivering him secrets to unwittingly swallow. he smelts himself down to the base and seeps in between them, liquid copper in the nickel sandwich of their clad coin.

it isn't until tommy's got both of them sprawled out on his couch one night, months into his increasingly complex relationships with each of them, that he truly starts to grasp how evan and eddie might exist as a singular entity outside of his skull, too.

top gun's ending credits march, sans serif ants, to the glowing edge of tommy's television screen. fuzzy, synthetic white-blue haze pours into the room and across the skin of buck and eddie's limbs and faces in a manner that makes tommy think of marble hewn painstakingly into handsome statue, of rock tumbled smooth by a patient, perpetual stream, ever-flowing towards the sea.

tommy thinks, i could be a sculptor. i could be a river.

copper in the nickel.

the two men are draped across his sectional like lions in the sun, impenitent and unabashed in the way they take up space, in the way they take up each other. buck's legs are long, stretched out along multiple cushions, his head heavy on tommy's lap. eddie, on the opposite end of the couch from tommy, started out the evening upright, but the drone of the movie — combined with tommy's easy laughter and the literal and figurative warmth pouring off of buck — had helped to coax a more relaxed posture out of him. now he slouches deep into the pillows, legs spread wide to knock up against buck's bare feet where his sweatshorts ride up his quads. tommy almost expects the point of contact between the pair of them to spark, start a blaze that would surely incinerate the three of them in spite of their résumés.

his heart's been a tinderbox for long enough that he can usually recognize flint even when it's disguised as water; the thirst that parches him convinces him it's worth attempting a sip without regard of probable risk.

he lets out a long exhale and drops a hand to card through evan's hair, half-listens to eddie babble on about how the shots of the F14 fighter jets are still so cool all these years later. he's beaming like a kid the whole time, sunshine-ray of a smile gleaming straight at buck.

tommy watches as buck can't help but smile right back, and god, if the energy radiating off of them could be harnessed for physical usage, tommy would never have a utility bill again in his life. he watches, enraptured, as buck flexes and curls his toes against the soft dark hairs of eddie's thigh, pressing dents into his skin. watches as eddie presses back.

eddie falters in his warplane musings when buck's foot skids over and catches in the edge of his shorts.

buck says, "sorry," not convincingly.

eddie clears his throat and drags his gaze from the arch of buck's foot resting against his leg up buck's calf, to his knee, to where the exposed pale of his thigh disappears behind them hem of his shorts. he takes his time wandering up the rest of buck's body, lingering especially at the relaxed curve of his dick under loose cotton fabric, the relaxed curve of his gently parted lips. finally he meets buck's answering stare and blinks, languid, like he's searing something into his memory, buck-shaped sunspots in his retinas. he says, "no big deal," not convincingly.

before tommy's eyes, water transmutes into flint and back into water and over again, metamorphosing in a churning lazy whirl. it dizzies him, blurring his vision until there is no difference between the two; there's just a murky charcoal pool, molten obsidian shimmering like glass, rippling like the surface of an ocean less haunted than the one sloshing in his cerebrum.

an ocean glinting with the reflection of two incandescent stars careening towards each other at a devastating rate, a spectacle to behold.

relaxing his shoulders, tommy orders them to, "kiss," more certain than ever. when they hesitate, he adds, "each other," bracing himself for the likelihood of a stellar collision.

when eddie clambers on top of buck and leans down to crush their lips together, pushing his head down against tommy's thighs, pushing tommy out of his own, it feels more like the calm soar and twinkling glitter of a shooting star against the navy velvet sky, the soft crash of a wave against the edge of a silky coast.

there's no threat of unkind flame, no exploding celestial dust.

it feels like water.

tommy kneels at the sacred place where the luminous sea laps at the heavenly shoreline and drinks, and drinks, and drinks.

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drinks become shots become wandering hands in the generous backseat of a stranger's car, an obvious cocktail to use as a scapegoat for the hammering beneath tommy's breastbone. the depths of his mind bubble up with, trust your gut, not your heart.

he has mixed feelings about that one, but at present he's not sure he can trust any singular part of his corporeal form, so at least it half-applies.

hearts and guts aside, tommy is starkly aware that things between buck and eddie may be escalating a bit beyond his feasible reach. he'd come into the evening equipped with the knowledge that he's successfully constructed his own internal witch's cottage of cake shingles and sugared windowpanes in this questionable "date" night between the three of them, however mutually agreed upon the night may be. he's self-aware enough to understand that he's destined to walk himself straight back into it, naïve as hansel and gretel without the excuse of not knowing better.

he just hadn't realized how famished he's become, and how tempting his own makings would look.

with buck seated comfortably between himself and eddie, tommy has no real access to eddie outside of the smush of knuckles-on-upper-arm from the hand he's got slung around buck's shoulder. as per usual the concept of space does not seem to exist between the other men, and tommy's fingertips get wedged so tightly between their limbs that it feels like with just a little more effort, maybe they could do some damage. the sick, private, bourbon-drenched gutters of his mind surmise that maybe he'd let them.

he watches as they exchange a heated look and a hotter liplock, uncertain as to whether he'll ever get used to witnessing them like this. in the weeks following the fated night of their little home movie screening, tommy's been lucky enough to encourage and initiate several more exchanges of both kisses and conversation among the three of them.

"i... still want to be with you," evan had mumbled against his chest, as they laid in bed together the morning after their tag-team makeouts with eddie to the soundtrack of top gun's menu screen music on a muffled loop.

"i had hoped," was tommy's response. after a beat, "and eddie?"

buck had peered up at tommy, eyes so earnest and open and stupidly fucking blue. "yeah, yes, eddie," he'd said, almost apologetic. "i— i do want to be with eddie," like he had to.

"i know," tommy had told him, the organs in his abdomen heaving tumultuously. "it's okay, evan," he'd said, his heart a hummingbird fluttering frantic. like the idea wasn't sending his ribcage collapsing in on itself, he'd even managed, "i can leave whenever you're ready for me to go." he'd assumed all along that he was on borrowed time; couldn't be a beggar and a chooser.

buck, with love bursting forth from every single inch of his being, with more than enough to go around, had admitted to wanting tommy to stay, if tommy would be okay with it. he pitched the idea that they could talk to eddie, try this together, give it an honest shot.

tommy had flashed back to a childhood history lesson on the u.s. mint where he learned that certain coins aren't made in layers, but instead by melting all of the metals together to become a solitary slab. his copper edges fuse further into mirroring ponds of nickel.

three sides of the same coin, he'd thought to himself. imagine that.

"god, eddie," buck rasps now, voice low, clandestine enough to stay in the backseat. "want you so fuckin' bad."

eddie's answering, "jesus, buck, i— want you, too," honest and shameless, snaps tommy fully back into the present moment in perfect timing.

their rideshare driver whips into the driveway of tommy's house, personified stress wearing a thin windbreaker of customer service as he vocally ushers them out of the car — ahem, looks like we're here, have a pleasant rest of your evening, goodbye. as eddie and buck tumble out of the passenger's side rear door in a picture of resolute gracelessness, tommy, clutching stubbornly onto an ounce of awareness, pauses to give a rearview-mirror nod of thanks to the weary-eyed dude white-knuckling the steering wheel. he promises a significant gratuity for bearing with their shenanigans and lets himself out on the driver's side of the car.

while he steadies himself on his feet, gravel crackles under the wheels of the gratefully retreating sedan, headlight beams fading to shadow. tommy observes the silhouette of the inelegant, eight-limbed, two-headed harbinger-creature making its way to his home's front entrance in a clumsy tangle and waits for his innards to spike with fear, with reluctance. he meanders up the drive and overturns every stone lining the path to his warranted doom, expecting to find the tattered shreds of his decomposing clarity, or maybe a colony of vicious fire ants. all he finds is fertile, loamy earth, rife with potential.

he stumbles up his porch stairs and unlocks the door when he gets there, opening it for the lot of them to fall through together.

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together on tommy's mattress, buck and eddie writhe and moan and curse. they haven't been able to break apart since toppling out of the backseat. they kiss like it's the very thing keeping them alive.

from where he's snuggled up to buck's back, tommy's got a front row seat for the premiere screening of his most-likely demise. he can see the saliva bubblling on the edges of eddie's tongue as he smears it from buck's throat all the way to the cap of his shoulder, a glistening snail trail scattered through with blooming bruises he'd sucked into buck's skin minutes before. he can hear every wet catch of buck's breath in his throat, every soft grunt eddie lets out into against it, every exhale shared between them.

tommy's head spins, so god damn far from being on straight. he feels like a balloon released into the wind, miles above the cold and familiar waters of his deep-ocean, stranded somewhere in the high desert of his psyche. loose dry earth kicks up in a vortex around him, carried by the tempest of his culminating untended emotions. when the dust cloud settles enough for him to think, he recalls the term raison d'être.

it's french, that's why it sounds fancy, is what his father had said to teenage tommy, long before he'd cared to even attempt a grasp on the concept. he'd been moody, hormonal, and wildly, spitefully uninterested in all of the things the man he shared a name with held so dear. rolled his eyes at the gruff, translates to 'reason for being.'

"buck, buck, c'mon," is what eddie says as he scrabbles for a good grip on buck's shirt, taking fistfuls of fabric and wrenching it over buck's head in a frenzy. says, "come here," like buck isn't already melded into him, bare torsos flush, thighs slotted close. says, "come here," again, and it registers that eddie is calling for tommy, too.

tommy eyes snap onto eddie's across the naked curve of buck's shoulder to find them scalding. "fuck," he breathes out, "okay," like it's permission enough for all of them.

for now, it will suffice.

the skin stretched over buck's bulky trap muscle is tacky with eddie's spit when tommy sets his mouth against it, bursting salty-bitter on his tastebuds. buck whimpers into eddie's mouth and grinds his ass back against tommy's crotch; eddie's hips follow after them in a sinuous roll. into the blushing hollow of his ear tommy asks buck if he'd like to feel eddie inside of him, makes sure it's just loud enough for eddie to hear, too. he feels eddie's ankle hook around his own, overlapped with buck's.

"please, yes," urges buck, fervent and wanton, lust and liquor fraying the last threads of his hesitancy. "i've been wanting that."

"you have?" eddie asks, as tommy says, "he has."

"god." context aside, eddie's tone is reverent. he says it again, as though the word is synonymous with buck's name. then, like it's still a secret to himself, admits, "i've been wanting you, too."

buck groans and shifts, or maybe it's eddie — as tommy's faculties render off in the burn of both the top-shelf whiskey in his bloodstream and buck and eddie's immediate intimacy, it becomes progressively more challenging for him to distinguish the fine details. it all feels the same, gets identical synapses firing.

he tracks eddie's movements as he smooths a hand down buck's side, sure and attentive, as natural as breathing. when he keeps moving south to bump his fingertips up against the waistband of buck's jeans and the boxers beneath, buck's breath hitches, hips jerking. tommy tilts against them in pursuit.

eddie asks, "can i?" and it's double the approval he's seeking.

"yeah, eddie, please," buck begs again while tommy nods, delirious with overwhelm.

in an uncoordinated jumble, eddie gets buck flat on his back and makes himself a home between his open-lolling legs. right away his palms return to the broad planes of buck's chest, the curves of his strong stomach, the slight slants of his hips. he makes constellations out of kisses on buck's collarbone, his nipples, in the divot of his sternum.

it looks as close to worship as anything tommy's seen.

tommy wonders if it's worth telling eddie how he'd taken his time working evan open that morning, fucking him deep and thorough so he'd be easier for eddie to push inside of now. if it's worth telling eddie how he'd come, sudden and hard and so fucking good, from thinking about buck taking him so readily.

when eddie's devout, trembling fingers struggle to unclasp the button of buck's jeans, tommy decides to backburner the dirty talk. instead, he rests a hand on top of eddie's, gentle yet authoritative, and says, "let me help."

buck's hips lift for tommy's hands without second thought, making it simple to shuck the pants off of him as eddie shimmies out of his own. before he can even process the sight of evan buckley and eddie diaz naked, together, on his own mattress, tommy's met with twinning expectant gazes and understands that he's meant to strip, too.

"i—" thought i would stay on the sidelines, he tries to say. but as seconds pass under the scrutiny of the other men, the reluctance dies in his larynx, and he jostles around a bit until the denim of his pants is bunched down low enough to free his dick.

he's too preoccupied by the fact that he's got both objects of his affection directly in front of him, touching and loving on each other and spilling all of it onto him, to truly comprehend the magnitude of the moment. his head is so far into the atmosphere that he almost misses eddie say, "tell me what to do, tommy."

re-tethered to the earth by the string of eddie's voice, tommy doesn't miss buck's impatient, "aw, c'mon, eddie, just get in me." his desperate, "need you," is clear as day, clear as his afternoon sky irises, brighter against the rosy blush ruddying his cheekbones. he's always so damn pretty when he pleads.

tommy glimpses down at buck's dick, finds it stiff and pink and already leaking a mess onto his belly; he flicks across to the heft of eddie's where it rests heavy in the lax grip of his own hand. it's a beautiful cock, flushed dark and filled out, not quite as thick as tommy's but a nice, proportionate size. tommy knows buck will unfurl for him at once, a blossom to the morning sun.

meeting the bonfire of eddie's anticipative stare, tommy decides to say, "it won't take much, i got him ready for you this morning. right, baby?"

if buck could nod any more vigorously, he might snap his vertebrae. he adjusts the angle of his hips a little to make more of his ass visible, scoots onto a pillow so that he can prop himself up enough to get a better hold on eddie's waist.

"jeeesus," drawls eddie — a rare slip of his honeyed-rye texas lilt — and then, like he can't help it, "christ." his eyes rake down buck's body, idling on his twitching dick before trailing further, like he'll be able to find evidence: tommy was here.

that makes tommy smirk. he wishes he could keep his instructions ambiguous, left up for eddie's interpretation, something like he can handle whatever you're willing to give him. instead, mindful of the fact that this is largely uncharted territory for eddie, he suggests, "start with your fingers, you won't hurt him."

tommy's trusty bottle of nightstand lube is within convenient reach, making it no trouble to squeeze and slather some across eddie's fingers with a lewd jerk. a bit of extra coats the side of tommy's hand and he uses it to rub along the cleft of buck's ass, prompting a shiver out of him.

"there you go," tommy rumbles, "nice and wet."

the synchronous broken moan that the two let out when eddie finally finds the courage to nudge his fingers into buck is one that will most likely play like a broken-record loop within the walls of tommy's skull forever from this moment forward, for better or for worse.

buck promises, "i can take more," with the bleeding edge of a prayer still present in his tone. "i want more, want you, eddie, come on. it's alright, you can fuck me, you're not gonna break me."

eddie asks, "are you sure?" dually directed.

"never been more sure," buck affirms, as tommy says, "trust him, he knows his own limits," all the while knowing he can't make the same claim about himself.

regardless, he casts himself into the riptide, plummets into the undertow and captures buck's lips in a greedy kiss. he licks behind buck's teeth and drinks up his whines as eddie rides his dick along the slick valley of buck's asscheeks. before he even pushes inside, buck's making these fucking tiny wounded noises that make tommy's heart swell and cock throb.

when eddie lines up and sinks, at last, into the place inside of buck that tommy has come to learn and know and adore, buck breaks away from tommy's kiss with something close to a genuine sob. one of his hands finds one of tommy's, the other still firm on eddie's waist, keeping both of them close. he's got a leg hitched up over one of eddie's hips for better leverage, and his toes curl when eddie starts to move, shallow and slow.

eddie's name has never sounded better to tommy's ears than it does falling out of buck's lips now.

"buck." eddie's tone is reverent. he says it again, as though buck's name is synonymous with god, the two a singular entity within the confines of his skull.

tommy nearly has to look away from them, they blaze so brightly. evan buckley and eddie diaz, starfire contained in terrestrial form, crashing and combining and dazzlingly white-hot.

───────────────

white-hot aftershocks zap through tommy's nervous system as he sits at the edge of the mattress, back turned to the two other men. his fingers are gooey with spatters of buck's come mixed with his own, his softening dick sensitive and sticky as his entire body pulses from the dopamine spike of his orgasm. being a spectator to eddie and buck's otherworldly connection — and a helping hand in their ridiculously hot, intimate sex — has him feeling triply unmoored.

he's supposed to be getting them something hydrating to drink; he'd been the one to offer after eventually peeling himself free from the gordian knot of their bodies. evan always gets thirsty after, in particular when he gets a little teary from the pleasure overload, so tommy figures he could use a glass of cold water. they all could.

he tries to will his legs to stand; he finds his knees locked. impulse turns him inward and sweeps him cliffside on the tallest peak of his high desert mountain range. there, he can stand with his shoulders in repose and head in the clouds, squinting far into the distance where he can decipher the unmistakable expanse of an ocean that glints with the reflection of two incandescent stars careening towards each other at a devastating rate. a ghostly whale breaches the surface for a flash, a mere speck on the horizon from here, vanished before its presence totally registers.

his heavy eyelids flutter shut and he mulls, achingly, over the term raison d'être.

he can hear buck and eddie behind him exchanging lazy, smacking kisses and sweet murmured praises.

"you made that so good for me, thank you."

"mm, you were pretty fuckin' good yourself. now come kiss me some more."

the sounds and sentiments soak into tommy's soul like they're meant for him. his lips tingle as though the press of another mouth is against them; his ears warm as eddie waxes on about how fucking glorious that all felt. his heart swoops at evan's quiet, bashful laugh.

upon opening his eyes the fog in his line of sight clears, and even through a blur of unwanted tears he can clearly recognize that he is no longer in the desert but in the sacred place where the luminous sea laps at the heavenly shoreline. the call of the waves isn't far off at all — the surf is actually rippling at his toes, splashing at his knees and calves. he's been here since the night that eddie diaz kissed evan buckley in his lap, feet sunken into silt, warm tides rising and falling around him.

translates to 'reason for being.'

"come back to us, tommy," summons eddie, as evan's hands reach out and welcome him back down to their mess of rumpled sheets and sweaty limbs.

tommy thinks, i could be a river, and lets himself melt into the embrace of their current, stream into ocean, copper into nickel.

#bucktommy #buddie #bummie #this is so fucking extra. lmao #i was in my emo poetry feelings while writing okay #healing something in my teenage soul #i don't actually imagine them being quite *this* dramatic and complicated in actuality but god. is it a joy to write lmao #but i think it still has a happy(?) ending?? lmfao #idk. i just love writing messy + melodramatic + emotionally claustrophobic things #threw a whole kitchen sink of comparisons at the walls of this one and for better or worse many of them stuck ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#also this does feature some of my more unkind headcanons about tommy's father and related issues lmao #the gc is the originator/authority of the fact that our beloved tommy is not the first in a line of tommy kinards #and i personally believe that tommy had/has a contentious and complicated relationship with his family - namely his dad #and that he may or may not have a relationship with him at all anymore (obviously not in this fic because i decided to be over-the-top af)#but yeah #anyway #mine #oh and just a heads up - ao3 has proper capitalization and tags

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