#[[ Rick is being petty in the second part ]]

[countlessrealities]

@dynamoprotocol sent: 💋 How kissable is ‘Rissa, Rick? How smoochable is your muse? || Accepting !

A smirk opens on Rick's face at the question. Oh, he could say so many thing about how kissable Clarissa is, and some of them are definitely not meant for everyone's ears. He'll keep those for later, when they meet up for a few rounds of drinking...and, if he can have it his way, a few rounds in the sheets too.

"She's a fuckin' solid 10. N-No fuckin' doubt there. I-I mean, have you seen her? A-All that fire and rough charm? Ho-How the fuck can you look at her an-and not want to get a taste of that? S-She's a damn good kisser too. An-And this is the opinion of a guy w-who has slept his way through the multiverse."

And then there's the electricity, the hint of static that always linger on her skin. The little shocks that bite his lips every time they touch her flesh. It's fascinating and exciting and he can never get enough.

Damn, he's a lucky guy, isn't he?

----

Rick's brows knit together in annoyance at the question and lips curl into a scowl. The irritation, however, is just a little part of what he's feeling. He hates it, but he can't help all the emotions that cluster in his chest whenever he hears her name or sees her. There's too much history between them, too many loose ends, too much hurt.

He wishes that their reunion hadn't happened at all.

He keeps catching himself staging excuses to see her again.

"Eh, s-she's attractive, I guess. T-Ten years an-and she looks almost the same, s-so...I guess time is treating her well or shit." A shrug that comes off too stiff to be casual. "S-She still has her charm, e-even if she's more of a bitch than what I remembered."

Or maybe she isn't, not in general, but he keeps bringing out her worst sides.

"I-I'd say...7? M-Maybe 8, depending on how much s-she has busted my balls."

He brings his flask to his lips and takes a long gulp. He remembers what kissing her was like. He remembers being almost addicted to the rushes of adrenaline he got from it. And the intense look in those bright blue eyes after the most frantic kisses...

"...W-Whatever."

[goopi-e]

❤,💚,💖 (portal) for unpopular opinion ask game

❤: Which character do you think is the most egregiously mischaracterized by the fandom?

Oo, that's a tough one. This fandom is old enough and has a small enough character cast to have already flanderised everyone to a degree. Disregarding the funny bri'ish ball, who gets both woobified and villianized to the moon and back for all the wrong reason... I'd say it must be Rick - too many people buy his facade too readily. I would almost say Caroline as well, but, one, she has very little info about her, so it's a matter of fighting over headcanons anyway, and two, nowadays mostly everyone agrees she wasn't this motherly saint with unblemished morality, so.

💚: What does everyone else get wrong about your favorite character?

Speaking of the funny bri'ish ball!

His biggest problem is not that he's dumb - well, he's not the brightest, but the crappy treatment he gets is just not warranted: Apеrture simply happens to have a very ableist corporate culture. No, the root of his misery lies in his pettiness: he's mean to the Oracle turret, he's mean to Jerry, to Space core (aka the second closest thing to a friend he gets to have), he hates the humans, doesn't pass up the chance to dunk on his ex-boss from a previous jobs and takes a potshot on then-dead GLаDОS. Even Chеll, the actual closest thing he had to a friend, is not free from thinly-veiled insults. This guy is an absolute tar pit <з.

💖: What is your biggest unpopular opinion about the series?

...I might have a harder time finding a take I actually agree with, lol.

(Just kidding, just kidding, I'm not that much of a contrarian).

My hot take of the day is that, despite what I said earlier, Chеll Is Not Here To Make Friends. Her defining character trait is tenacity, not kindness; her goal is to get the hell out of this stupid place, and I wholeheartedly believe she'd go over others' heads to escape if need be. I remember reading a ChеllDОS-ish post once, IIRC an argument against The Mom Theory? Whatever, it's irrelevant atm. What actually caught my attention was OP saying something to the effect of "Chеll picking up PotаtOS instead of ditching Her is an act of kindness, their character arcs are about developing compassion uwu", and... Really? For GLаDОS - yes, but Chеll? The woman who, as per the word-of-god, voluntarily stayed silent in the face of death and humiliation for two whole games out of spite? I'd personally take it as her being pragmatic; same for not ditching Whеаtley. Hell, a part of me thinks she wouldn't be particularly friendly with Doug if they were to meet, simply by virtue of him being an Apеrture employee.

Remember, good people don't end up in Apеrture - not in a sense that her struggles are "deserved", but rather because she comes from a story with no black-and-white morals.

[z-eusie]

I saw your tags on that repost and I agree soo much. actually part of the reason I love your writing is because you write nuanced portrayals of the gods. something rick failed to do. Zeus didn’t even get a third of the depth that hades and Poseidon were given (and I don’t even like how the latter characters were written lol) like his best scene imo is the 1-1 conversation with Jason when he tells Jason that bc hes king he can’t show favoritism or praise especially not towards his kids. we get a sliver of what kind of character zeus could have been but that moment lasts for like 2 seconds and is forgotten. Which is a shame because Zeus was the most interesting god out of the big 3, he had a great setup in the first couple of books in the og series but that was tossed in favor oh his brothers. I could get into the Hera’s character but then we’d be here all day 🙃.

1 ) thank you!!! i try very hard to write the gods as something complex and multifaceted, and have thought long and hard about what makes them tick / what makes them human as much as what makes us like them. so thank you, i really appreciate that!

2 ) i wholeheartedly agree. i understand that per/cy jackson is a work of fiction designed for children, and so i acknowledge that the level of complexity and nuance the gods should have is going to be diminished, somewhat, to make it more palatable to children.

but that's actually not where my issues have ever been. i don't mind that certain parts of the gods are simplified - in some cases, i think it actually works! his representation of hestia, for example, is one of my favourites in the series because despite being a relatively simple goddess, he presents her in such an interesting way. she's nuanced and important.

the issue i have is with what he chooses to simplify and how. some of the worst examples you have mentioned: zeus and hera, namely. but i also find a lot of my grievances with ares, dionysus, and aphrodite as well (among others, but those ones always stood out to me). i think the progression of the series makes it ten times worse, because whereas zeus was mildly insufferable in pjo for being grouchy, prideful, and unintelligent, his arc leads him down a path from mediocre king to abusive tyrant in a jump that is just SO jarring.

because i agree!!! zeus' scene with jason in blood of olympus is genuinely one of my favourite moments. it makes zeus feel so much more raw and real and understandable. he has an incredibly difficult job to do, and as much as he loves jason, he can't be the father jason needs. its gut-wrenching, but it made sense.

then literally the next time zeus is mentioned in the series, its as an abuser, which frustrates me to no end. zeus is only given bad traits. anything redeemable about him is ripped away. and riordan reduces what was a mediocre representation (but one i could stomach) to something completely one-sided and hurtful.

the same can be said for hera, who is introduced trying to help the heroes who immediately start shitting on her for something they know SO little about, and then is painted as the villain for the rest of the series - even when she's the only one actively trying to solve the problems in heroes of olympus. i understand her methods are questionable, but she's right. she's petty and vindictive because it suits the plot, which is super unfair to what she could have been.

ares is shown to be quite a doting (if eccentric) father to frank, which would be cool!! if it wasn't juxtaposed by his abuse of clarisse in the series and his general unintelligence. hades has character development that's interesting, but is also juxtaposed by the knowledge that his children were n*zis apparently???

i think riordan actually writes his demigods in a way that's super nuanced and interesting, but falls short with the gods. they're archetypes - which would be fine, if the archetypes they represented were at all accurate. zeus is the father of gods and men, and you mean to tell me he's the one who tells all his family they can't even see their kids? (this is another decision that irks me, mostly because it serves as the basis for the entire plot and makes NO sense to me). i think it would make far more sense for the reason for the distance to be a) an acknowledgement of the dangers of being around their children or b) recognition that interfering in the fates of heroes can seriously upset the balance of everything. but no, we get a paranoid, jaded, unintelligent king making dumb decisions.

i also think the mentality of "_____ gods are good and _____ gods are bad!!!" exists heavily in this series, which is also part of the problem. apollo is a good guy, but dionysus is the bad guy!!! poseidon is a good guy but zeus is a bad guy!!!! it's frustrating.

overall, i still love the series for what it meant to me and i find parts of it that i really enjoy, but i have to just squint through portrayals of the gods in that context because they're poor. riordan could have made some very seriously complex relationships between demigods and their godly parents, but most of them fall flat of their potential - mostly because the gods are never around for silly reasons!

anyway, i've rambled enough, but these are my thoughts. i'd love to chat more on the subject with anyone who is interested! i'm sure i've missed important things i would normally touch on but alas... thinking about zeus in that series is upsetting enough for me lmao

[lapseinart]

Honestly Nico is so ??? His fatal flaw is holding grudges. That’s why he’s the way he is. He held a grudge because Percy wasn’t able to save his sister and shattered his reality of the demigod life being “cool” that he built up in his head because he played mythomagic.

Like internally I’m like. Did he undergo trauma?? But I’m like?? His sister died, but he didn’t see that he found out second hand. Not only that he KNEW his sister was dead from his dreams, he was just in denial about it. He ran away. He could’ve come back?? But he was being angsty about finding out about his past. He’s met Sally, he could probably go there. I bet that she offered that he could come whenever he wanted, but he’s stubborn and holds grudges so no.

I bet he saved Percy from Hades dungeon because he was more mad at his dad for tricking him than he was Percy for letting his sister die.

He wants to go help Percy fight because a part of him still sees Percy as The Hero, and Percy looks at him and says no you stay here (where it’s safe) and work on getting us help from your dad. But, Nico looks down kicking at the grass/whatever makes up the bank of the Styx, Dad is mad at me for breaking you out. And Percy’s like Get over yourself.

Also like wanting Nico to be safe is something that Percy hints at?? When he’s like well if I die then Hades will get his wish and you’ll be the child of the prophecy because BITCH you better live that long

Also I think in HOO Rick forgot he gave Nico the fatal flaw of Can’t Get Over Himself and that’s where people draw a lot of Nico’s characterization from. Like guys remember your roots. His whole thing is that he’s so fucking petty

[1960z]

this week’s episode of r&m was frustrating because the first half of it is super strong and the second half was super weak.

like I’m a huge fan of all those early on clip show episodes but morty’s mind blowers was always especially strong in my book and the first half of this episode not only had a similar premise but also, at least in my opinion, recaptured what made it so fun: getting to see these isolated scenes where the premise may not be strong enough to carry a full episode but for one scene is genius, as well as like, everyday, domestic or petty memories.

but then they made it about the observers who just… aren’t interesting? like the “this weird alien’s society is structured so similar to earth’s it’s comical” bit can work for like a scene or two but when it’s the crux of most of the comedy in the second half it starts to get very stale. and why even shift the focus to them in the first place?? the whole point of the episode was to explore where rick and morty’s relationship is now at after all the shit that went down last week right? Let it do that. let that be the focus. the observer should’ve just been a plot device that provided occasional comedy with how annoying they were to the rest of the characters I don’t need to see their justice system.

also I’d just like to point out that this is the second time this season where the episode has started out seemingly very intentionally neutrally gendering an alien being only to seemingly forget or completely abandoning it later on. it happened with unity and it happened with the observer.

lastly that part where they were going on about “already doing” the rick and morty in court bit was super weird to me and felt like they were trying to get ahead of a criticism only the most annoying people would make. like oh nooo the situation they’re currently in is vaguely similar to a situation they were in for like 2 seconds back in season one. how dare they.

[selfshippinglover]

Afterglow and ME! with Rick?

Wahh more anons attack! Yeahh let's keep this train going baybeee <3 Thank yoou :)

Afterglow:Do you and your f/o fight often? How do you and your f/o apologize to each other? Who apologizes first?

Rick is uhhh, an emotionally volatile person so fighting is inevitable unfortunately. Though it's something I accepted as a part of the Rick package deal, it's still quite rough and I end up hurt and worried most of the time. That said, I'm first to apologize 3/4ths of the time because of this. He's really petty about shit and can hold a grudge eternally so he only really steps up when drunk or very emotional.(which usually happen to be at the same time ,dsgkjbgbkjds)

I apologize in words and actions if he'll accept them while he mostly apologizes with actions. Letting me lead an adventure, picking up merchandise I've really wanted, books, a day at blitz and chips, whatever he can at three time. (so like, three days at earliest afterwards)

ME!:What do you love the most about your f/o? What do they love the most about you?

Wow, the most? And only one thing? If it's really only down to that then I gotta go with his commitment to fixing shit and/or doing the right thing when it's actually there. Like, if Rick wants something to happen it will no matter what the cost. I admire the lengths he'll go to make people like Morty and Summer happy :)

Rick would never admit to this but he's actually really happy with and even jealous of my commitment to the world and putting good into it. Like, he grew out of his "hero phase" as he calls it years ago, gets shit on for doing the right thing constantly, and struggles with finding anything to feel good about in the universe in general. But then here I am still doing as much good as I can no matter what the universe and its beings may retaliate with. He wishes he could feel that hopeful again. (second would be emotional openess which he's also jealous of lowkey)

[cometchasr]

this is from u/nugssssssssssssssss on reddit:

to start with tnp, there is nothing in it that points to or would end up as abuse or manipulation. it was all friendly banter and petty disputes over small things that would amount to nothing. aka 90% of apprentice fights. all except one thing at the beginning where squilp blackmails bramble into letting her go with him on the starclan given journey. this isn't stormfur to feathertail where they're inseparable siblings, but one bratty apprentice that follows around a young warrior that has lots of mental trauma from his bastard father being gutted right in front of him to him growing up in a clan that he had to work twice as hard to get respect in.

PoT is second and the only thing here is the end. sunrise pg 307 "Why?" "I had to! She's my sister!" "And you couldn't trust me?" The words echoed. "And you couldn't trust me, don't you think I would have helped you, if you told me the truth? But it's too late now." he was rightfully pissed off here, as a lie that big and important to a family/relationship is.

OotS just has a few parts, that are all just Brambles walking away from squilf when she tries to do anything with him, or him treating her as if the only past she had with him was the journey, as he was still recovering from being betrayed like that. The Last Hope pg 328 where he chooses her a deputy proves he has forgiven her, though he will forever be hurt by it. "Squirrelflight." "Really?" "There is no cat I trust more."

In sqh i admit he's no angel, as with squilf. but most of the parts are understandable from his pov, and the readers. She brings up kits a couple times after he said no because running a clan is hard enough, and he doesn't want kits clouding his decisions as that would heavily sway them, and he wants best for the clan. Squilf also multiple times undermines him, when a deputy is supposed to still be under their leader, and not in charge of everything. He loves squilf but sometimes even questions that, which is unnecessary as he should know he loves her very much, and vice versa. some points from this are pg 382 "Why am I here? Am I going to die?" Bramblestar's scent still lingered on her tongue. "I want to go back!"

This shows that she still loves him and (obviously) she wants to go back to him and the rest of Thunderclan. pg 383 "I don't care what happens. I need to go back and make things right with my clan, and Bramblestar. My kits are there."

pg 385 "Tell Dandelionkit and Juniperkit that I'll be back, and when Bramblestar comes we'll be a family." pg 391 "Don't be sorry. Don't be sorry for anything. I was so worried. I love you so much. We should have never let things get so bad. I'll never let it happen again." and on the final page, 416, "I'm glad we're not arguing anymore."

"So am I. I don't know what I would've done if you'd died. I don't think I could've gone on without you."

"Of course you could have. Your clan needs you. I know you would never let them down."

"I'm only strong because of you. Promise me we'll never argue like that again. That we'll always talk things out before they get too bad."

"You have to trust me, you must always know that you and Thunderclan are the most important things to me. I would never let you down." (Rick Astley fades in from the background)

"I know, and I'm sorry I ever doubted you. Ever since you were an apprentice you've challenged me. And it's always made me stronger. You've helped me see things in a different way."

they made up, all is well. presumably in the few moons separating sqh and TBC their relationship became even better to when they first were mates. don't feel like i need to mention this but there's no way in hell i'm counting impostor as brambles, primarily because… well... it isn't

You know the very thing I hate about this community is how much it chucks around the word abusive. As someone who is close to a lot of people who have been through/are going through abusive relationships. It's pretty sickening that it's now used as a buzzword/weapon against ships they don't like. Now it feels like it means "these couples disagreed at some point and argued. Therefore abusive." Which is dangerous. Squirrel and Bramble are just that. A couple who have gone through a... lot of rough patches. But to call Brambleclaw abusive is fucking insane. Brambleclaw doesn't isolate Squirrel from her friends. He doesn't hit her. He respects her boundaries Just because they argue doesn't make him abusive. And I'll be honest, after all Bramble has gone through. (Basfard father, intimacy issues, most of the cats he was close to turned on him, or died, his kits didn't turn out to be his, one of them died, the kits that WERE his half of them died.) I think he has a bit of a right to be like. "Uhh, no I'm not having more kits." And honestly if the roles were shifted, squirrelflight being asked by Brambleclaw to have kits. They still would've called Bramble abusive for trying to pressure her into it. Like holy shit this community sometimes.

Millie yelled at blossomfall one time for doing something stupid and risking her life? Why that's abuse and makes her a terrible mother of course! Squilfpaw blackmails bramble? Why that's perfectly fine! Probably Bramble’s fault!

‘People who claim “squirrelflight’s hope didn’t happen” or “it’s not abuse”, are just finding excuses.’

First off yes I’d like to believe SqH didn’t happen though I know it did. I’m not “just finding excuses” by believing that it isn’t abuse. I legitimately believe that it isn’t abuse at all.

‘It’s clear as day he uses mental abuse in this super edition. Bringing up the kits argument time and time again just to make her upset when things aren’t going his way, claiming she doesn’t love him just to make sure she follows him to show she does love him, claiming she has to follow his every step if she wants to be a good mate/deputy and basically can’t have any opinion of her own.’

He brings up the kits part when she brings it up, and once or twice more. It isn’t anything big. She brings it up twice, in the heat of arguments at that. He is genuinely thinking in these times that she may not love him, although we all know and even deep inside he knows that isn’t trie. It’s a lot of weight in his shoulders being leader, and a deputy that denies every order outright may worsen it. He never says anything about “claiming she has to follow his every step if she wants to be a good mate/deputy” although a deputy is not above a leader, so the deputy does have to follow the leader still. Sure it’s sometimes better to go against the leaders words in dire or important situations, but squilf does it at basically every right and left. He obviously allows her to have an opinion.

‘Dismissing her feelings time and time again, etc. This, this is clearly abuse. You don’t have to had this happen to you to notice that. If the victim feels like she could die and her hesband wouldn’t care, than you must know there’s something wrong right? Like how many times didn’t Squirrel think that if she died, Bramble would just forget about her and take a new mate? This is not a healthy relationship at this point.’

He never dismisses her feelings, just doesn’t fully take them into account. He has to still have at least a portion of the populations support with things, or else it would be another Rowanstar. I have been through abuse my whole life, from emotional, mental, and even sexual abuse for a short period. I have been through it all and nothing of the sort comes up here. Once again like Bramble earlier, if she died, he would care. He even stated that he wouldn’t know if he would be able to go on being leader without her. He would never forget her and never take a new mate. I don’t know where on earth you got that from. Sure it’s not a perfect relationship in SqH, anyone can see that, but it’s definitely a realistic one. It is one of if not the most relatable and realistic relationships in the series.

There are many things that people don’t take into account like actuality, logic, (brambles) emotions, stress, etc.

Sure there are abusive tendencies on both sides but tendencies don’t always mean that they’re going to be/are ~~~. Example: Not every kid that hurts animals and likes fires are going to be a serial killer. It’s a very slim chance still, and many grow through what they do and regret it later on. At the end of SqH they made up, and as much as we know have had no problems since, well, between the two of them. cough Ashfur Possession cough

[lukaherehelp]

They haven't arrived to the series yet. Nico will be soon but Will will take a while, HOWEVER, I also did for a second thought that it was more warm and cold, dark and light dynamics because... Well, obvious reasons, Nico himself in the book points it out pretty soon:

" Maybe is true that opposites attract, because Nico didn't know anyone has opposite to him as Will. And yet, it had been a year. One year together. Nico had a real boyfriend. "

Or as the author Rick Riordan describes them himself in an interview:

" Nico and Will are soulmates of equal brightness, no matter how different or far away they seem from one another. "

However, looking back at your descriptions of the colors, they both fall perfectly on the Black and Yellow descriptions (with Will falling slightly into orange, visually mostly due to him almost always wearing the Half-Blood Camp's t-shirt).

Will

William "Will" Andrew Solace, head counselor of Apollo's Cabin and prominent healer in Camp Half-Blood. Also, Nico's "Significant Annoyance" (nickname given by Nico)

He's really cheerful, always wanting to make Nico laugh and feel comfortable, and is a beacon of clarity in most situations, due to his powers as Apollo's son (he can literally glow like the sun), but also due to him being a healer. He leans into the orange with how communicative he is in general, but specially in his relationship with Nico, and visually he's almost always wearing the orange Half-Blood Camp's t-shirt.

The only "bad" trait as a potential Yellow Yal is his cautiousness, but it shows more as a side effect of his healer status, his that type of doctor that would beg or even fight you to make sure you stay in bed so you can heal properly.

The books also describes Will as a "different" type of Apollo's children due to, not only how much he looks like his godly father compared to others:

but also because most of his children thrive with music and excel in their archery skills, while Will is not bad at neither, but it isn't much more of a stronger point for him as it could be for other Non-Apollo children.

His healing and sun related powers seem to be his strongest point and also what differences him from his other paternal half-siblings.

two of his siblings, Austin Lake and Kayla Knowles.

Nico

Niccolò "Nico" di Angelo, the italian "Death Boy", "Mr Dark Lord" and "Debbie Downer" (nicknames given by Will)

Nico, on the other half, falls more into the negatives of a Black Brooder: introduced as a mysterious character at the beginning of the book series, Nico has turned out to be a highly pessimistic and sometimes arrogant boy, in a more abrasive manner than true arrogance from his part.

He is extremely protective of those whom he cares about, which feeds more into his pessimistic nature when bad things happen to them, like loosing his full sister Bianca di Angelo, one of Artemis's Huntress, which is something that by the point I'm currently at in this book, is still one of his PTSD triggers.

Bianca di Angelo, Nico's beloved older sister.

Something that you might find amusing: from her (her ghost actually), we learn that Nico's "fatal flaw" is how much he holds grudges, leading to not wanting help or not asking to be saved in deadly situations because he simply doesn't like someone.

Petty, this kid is literally the King of Petty.

Long story short:

They do seem to be a warm and cold, light and dark couple. But that's what Black and Yellow is inheritably: a ray of sunlight beaming upon a deep hole of darkness.

Credit: all art by @viria for the Rick Riordan's website.

I was thinking about the black brooder and yellow yal romance because of @respectthepetty while I was getting prepared to read the latest book I've bought and, as I was reaching for the it, I just realized: Nico di Angelo and Will Solace from Percy Jackson.

The son of Hades and the son of Apollo. Like, even the fuckin cover screams it:

[sorrelpaws]

s6e5 spoilerz!!

actual post talking about the episode YIPPEE!!! I LIKED IT!!! for the most part! i’m gonna start with the junk i didn’t like, cause there’s not much of it and i need to get it out of my system. for starters the erm. incest plotline. i’m honestly not sure why the writers have such a tendency towards this stuff. usually they seem to be pretty smart with reusing jokes or plot threads, but this just. like aside from being uncomfortable and weird to watch it just makes me think “do you not have anything better?”. why is this the safest plot line to fall back on in these recent seasons? i also hated the tiktok references at the beginning. i think i generally just hate any sort of pop culture references because they tend to become dated very easily/quickly while also doing nothing for the episode, aside from ruining any kind of immersion. AND MORTYYYYY justice for my boy. they are excluding him on purpose !! WHY!!!! i can understand he wouldn’t have worked very well with this episode, but this season seems to really favor either Rick or Literally Any Other Smith. but ummm next week’s promo had morty in it so im holding out hope guys! here’s how morty can still win!

ok anyway now that i’m no longer harboring any deep rooted hatred... THE ANIMATION!!!!! it was very cool, especially in fight scenes. something i noticed a lot was rick’s hair and suit/tie moving as he twists and turns, and i thought that was such a nice detail. it’s really simple but it added lots for me. AND THE JUMPS!!! i love his extending limbs, especially near the end of the episode where he jumps around on a bunch of boxes and moves kind of like a slinky, SOO neat. my only gripe is with the cold open, where he eats his noodles with tube arms. i dunno, felt kinda weird and unnecessary. small thing though. summer and morty in the beginning were also surprisingly endearing, and it has made me realize my desperation to see more of those two hanging out.

OH BUT JERRY AND RICK’S DYNAMIC!!!! i loved them in this episode, and i liked how it was kind of continuing s5e5′s development(kinda of neat that they’re both the 5th ep of their respective seasons). they’re both kinda warming up to each other, and it’s cool to watch this petty, sarcastic and, at times, surprisingly functional friendship. like when they talk in the vent, jerry is genuinely upset and rick offers some mild level of comfort by trying to crack a joke. and when they find the monster and jerry says he’s not sure what’s going on, rick just explains it!!!!! which okay yeah is also just to feed the audience necessary info, but i think the fact that rick doesn’t throw any insults really shows his development(also autistic infodump moment teehee). kind of off topic, but the scene w/ jerry’s second transformation made me wonder what his parents think of rick. like they see/ know he does some weird wacky shit, but like ... how much do they really know? or care? from what we’ve seen of them, they appear... pretty neutral. “oh well our son’s father in law is a scientist, no biggie,”. which is interesting to me. kinda wanna see some proper lengthy interactions between the grandparents. also rick joking(???) about fucking jerry’s mom made me laugh. okay alsooo i’m pretty sure i saw someone mention this, but in order for rick’s “you will make a friend” fortune to come true he would also have to consider jerry his friend as well B)) very cute.

[mortytheestallion]

tasting glass

Part 2   Part 3

Rating: 18+ (No minors); explicit 

Wordcount: 1.6k

Warnings: Rick Sanchez x F!Reader, angst, implied age gap, unprotected sex, daddy kink

A/N: Hello I’m back from the dead, I know I’ve been lacking on both fandoms but my hyperfixations have died. In honor of season 5 here’s a new little mini-series I’m challenging myself to this summer! This takes place in between episodes 2 and 3!

The summer heat was humid and sticky as Rick finished his latest project. The sweltering seemed to permeate the garage just the same with the door opened or closed, and with Beth and Jerry’s latest fight reaching its peak, he decided hiding away was his best bet. 

Rick and the heat did not get along well, something that translated to the rest of the family, it felt as though he was fending off Summer and Morty with a stick. Their boredom was not his problem though, he had much better things to do. The thought of slipping away had plagued his mind for the last few hours, but the fever of the summer seemed to make his mind feel like syrup. 

“What I wouldn’t fucking give for a pool right now?” Rick murmured to himself, his brow furrowing at the reminder of his own sticky misery. The sky bathed the house in a silky red with the sun slipping down under the horizon. He took another sip from his flask, turning to lean on the workbench. 

He heaved a deep sigh as his phone caught the corner of his eye, you were ignoring him, and in true Rick fashion he had taken that in stride. His eyes narrowed unconsciously as he thought about it, his empty hand tightening into a fist. He didn’t fucking need you.

 He didn’t need anybody.

Beth’s shrill voice cut through the air followed by some thuds and an “Ow!” from Jerry. That earned an eye roll from Rick and while he wouldn’t mind going in there and tearing them a new one, it was too much work. Morty was breathing down his neck about letting them be, that they were happy. He had scoffed when Morty said that, it was bullshit and he wouldn’t be surprised if someone wanted another divorce in the next 6 months. 

Nonetheless, he was stuck in this stuffy house with his family’s bullshit to avoid your bullshit and he was starting to feel suffocated. Why did he give a shit if you were mad, fuck if you wanted to play that game so would he. Maybe it was the liquor he had just downed but it really didn't take much to get Rick riled up. And you knew that. 

He could feel the anger blooming in his chest, he wasn’t some fucking teenager in a petty fight with some dumb, little girlfriend. Suddenly he was hot with anger and before he knew it, a portal was in the center of the floor and he was walking through. Damned be his new fibermesh epidermis defense, and fuck his family, always asking him for shit. 

One foot through he stopped and thought of you briefly softening, he had been pretty rough on you lately. You called, he declined. You showed up, he went out the nearest portal. He had really only been around lately to take care of his own needs.

A particularly loud curse from inside the house brought him right back to his original train of thought, he was the smartest man in the universe, he didn’t need to take crap from you. You should be thanking him for his presence in your life. 

“You have some fucking nerve.” 

You shrieked as Rick pulled back the shower curtain. A cold shower was one of the better ways to fend off the heat with the air conditioner broken, especially since Rick had moaned, groaned, and wormed his way out of fixing it. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” You hissed as he climbed in fully clothed, his brow in a prominent V-shape, lids half mast. It would have been comical in any other situation, his lanky body struggling to fit in your small shower, an almost bored expression on his face as the water drenched his clothes. 

“Me?” Rick scoffed, and narrowed his eyes at you. He began to lose his composure a bit, having your wet naked body in front of him. 

“Yes, you. You can’t just barge in here unannounced anymore Rick. I’m not some toy you can pick up when you’re bored and throw it away when you’re not.”

He feigned a hurt look, shrugged the now soaked coat from his shoulders. “I have enough toys, sweetheart, if you were one you’d know.”

That earned a huff from you, it had been a long day and the last thing you needed was Rick’s bullshit. Turning back to face the water, you rinsed the rest of the soap off of you, jumping slightly as his arms snaked their way around your waist. 

“C’mon,” he murmured, pressing kisses to your shoulder, you could feel the hard press of cold denim against your ass as he ground into you, “you know you can’t refuse my huge dynamite penis.” 

That earned a snort from you, the hard shell of anger cracking slightly. “You’re not off that easy, Rick. You’ve been a huge asshole lately, even more than usual.” 

His hands came up to massage your breasts, the feeling amplified by the cold water. You let out a low moan as he latched his mouth to the sweet spot on your neck while one hand tweaked your nipple, and the other snuck its way down to stroke your fluttering core. 

“S-shit baby you can’t still —is this all for me?” You could feel his wolfish grin against the back of your neck, and in return you arched your back more to grind against his erection. His long fingers trace through your folds as he removes his other hand to undo his belt, you feel the tight heat in your lower belly as you gush around his fingers. 

“Fuck,” Rick murmurs, stopping his motions momentarily to land a hard smack on your ass. You bite back a whine, wanting to maintain some semblance of composure, despite him being knuckle-deep in you. His fingers suddenly press against something deep and spongy within you, your knees buckle as you lurch forward, the unexpected waves of pleasure shivers down your body. Rick lets out another curse, his arm darting out to grip your waist, surely you would’ve fallen face-first into the wall had he not been holding you up.

He inhales sharply as you clench around his fingers, whispering good girl into your neck as you ride it out. He eases out of you, your juices dripping down your thighs, the feeling coupled with the uncomfortable chill of the water makes you shudder. 

“You’re a dirty little slut,” you tense again as he aligns himself to your entrance, still a little sensitive from your release, “beg me baby, I-I want to hear you.”

You mewl as he pushes into you, the stretch rides the line of pleasure and pain, Rick barely gives you enough time to get used to it before he bucks his hips and grips your jaw as a warning, “Beg.”

“Please, Rick, I want — I want you to fuck me,” your voice comes out whiny making you wince a bit, but it seems to please Rick as he sets a deep pace, biting into your neck hard enough it's sure to leave a mark.

You can’t help but arch your back even further, this seems to please him as he releases his bite on your neck, “Someone’s eager, y-you can’t seem to get enough of my dick can you?” You moan in response, snaking a hand down to rub the tender bundle of nerves. 

You clench at the contact, leading Rick to fasten his pace, his hand moving to tighten around your neck. 

“You’re my — you’re daddy’s good girl aren’t you? Can’t get enough of m-my monster cock, you wanna come don’t you? Don’t fucking dare, not until I say so.”

All you can manage is incoherent moans with the occasional Rick! thrown in, you’re too cockdumb to be embarrassed or angry anymore. Rick has his way of getting out of trouble, especially with you. 

His brutal pace coupled with your own fingers becomes too much for you as you near your second orgasm, Rick seemed to egg you on as his own fingers replaced yours, you could feel your stomach tightening as your release began to stir in the peak of your stomach. 

“Come on my dick, baby, let the neighbors hear you scream my name.”

The pleasure washes over you in waves, your pussy clenching hard around his dick, he thrusts with wild abandon chasing his own release. You can feel him rut against your sensitive walls, riding your post-orgasmic haze. He spills inside you a few moments later letting out a string of expletives in true Rick fashion. You feel yourself stir again slightly as you feel him fill you up, but Rick extracts himself from you gracelessly. 

Coming back to your senses you rinse the mixture of juices off your legs, much to Rick’s distaste, and turn off the water. You shiver from being drenched for so long, side-eyeing Rick as he avoids your gaze. 

“You’re dripping on my floor,” you murmur, he stands there uncomfortably, it's not lost on you that his portal gun has returned to his hand.

“Well, I-I should go.”

“Typical.”

Rick can feel the anger simmer low in his belly at your dig, “What do you mean typical?”

“Well let’s see Rick, you show up angry and unannounced, seduce me in my show—” “I didn’t seduce you! And —and frankly, I resent the accusation!” “And now you’re leaving with no explanation. This isn’t sustainable long term, Rick.”

“And what makes you think I want to be here long term,” He regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth, a hurt look flashes across your face before it's replaced with anger. 

“Come on, baby, I-I didn’t mean it.” 

He reaches out for you and you jerk backwards, “Your family may have taken you back, but I’m not this time Rick.” 

He opens his mouth, but you cut him off, “Just go, it’s what you’re best at.”

Rage blinds him as he shoots a portal to the floor, “Don’t — I’m not coming back this time.”

“I know you're not.” And with that he’s gone.

[thefanficmonster]

Hey, I'm the 3word anon! I guess to make this easier, you call call me 📚🌻

I just wanted to say that you did an amazing job! I loved reading what you've done! You said that you wanted more words so here it is your next words: tradition, needle and tribute

Love, 📚🌻

I'm so glad you liked it dear 📚🌻 ! I absolutely love this challenge and I don't think I'll ever get tired of it hehe. Hope you enjoy this one too!

Freedom

Pairing: Rick Flag x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of drug use, Mentions of injury Spoiler Free 😊

Genre: Romance, Humor

“Flag, I have someone coming on-board with you.“ Waller’s voice comes in through the radio of the jet colonel Rick Flag was about to take off with, taking the Suicide Squad on their newly assigned mission.

He rolls his eyes, engine of the jet roaring to signal it’s ready to lose contact with the ground and rise up into the skies - much like Rick, who’s already fed up with the Squad’s members who are explicitly annoying and pesky today, promising him a ton of headaches in the near future. With that in mind, these news Waller has given him so suddenly, he’s not particularly excited to welcome another lunatic on the jet. Another lunatic to deal with.

“Who the hell are you sending? Don’t you think my hands are already full enough?!“ He yells at the top of his lungs in order for his voice to overpower the engine’s loudness.

“I’m here to help you, you ungrateful piece of shit!“ This voice, familiar voice, doesn’t emerge from the radio, instead it’s coming from right behind him and is equally as strained as his due to the loud, ear-bleeding surroundings.

Before Rick can even comprehend the presence of another person, said person gets seated on the copilot’s seat, equipping a pair of headphones so the two can communicate without pushing their lungs to the brink of giving out.

“What the hell are you doing here, L/N?“ He asks, his eyes unable to hide even a little bit of the confusion that the girl’s presence has brought upon him.

Contrary to his seriousness and shock, the girl gives him a bright, almost teasing smile, “Oh come on, Flag. I have a soft spot for you, you know, I like helping you.“ She tilts her head ever so slightly, “And I don’t feel like giving Waller the pleasure of detonating this bomb at the back of my neck.“

“Thought so.“ He scoffs, watching Y/N’s movements out of the corner of his eye as she straps herself in. 

She rolls her eyes, cracking her knuckles before turning to him, deciding to pick up on this petty war, just to make matters worse for Rick and more amusing for herself, “Aren’t you gonna shoot me? I mean, it’s our tradition.”

Rick cringes, recalling the exact event - or rather events, plural - she’s referring to: the night he arrested her and a few others, all henchmen of the Joker. Unlike her co-workers however, Y/N put up one hell of a fight while those fuckers chose flight. Their decision didn’t get them far while hers led her to the hospital wing of the Belle Reve prison, a bullet in her side fired at her by colonel Flag. Seeing the report files on the altercation, Waller immediately knew the girl was something else and recruited her for the Suicide Squad.

Unfortunately, her first instinct when her eyes first landed upon the colonel was to pounce at him, despite her low chances of succeeding in her intentions considering there were guards and soldiers literally everywhere, all with guns ready to fire. Yet still, Flag was the one who shot her yet again, this time less dangerously close to fatal.

Yeah, she has a right to be pissed and a right to call it their tradition, but it’s also safe to say that their dynamic has improved. They went on to go on a few more missions together without any complications or unwanted altercations. Sure, there were snide remarks and petty comments here and there, but those could be considered compliments when compared to the shootings.

“When are you gonna let that go?“ Rick snaps, his eyes remaining fixated ahead while the jet slowly ascends, “I got you off the streets. I freed you from that psychopath. The last thing you should be is mad!”

There is a long pause between the two, leading Rick to sneak a glance at his co-pilot. She appears to be deep in thought, staring ahead much like he’s supposed to be doing right now. She doesn’t seem like she’s conjuring up a sarcastic response which would be totally up her alley, but oddly enough she seems to be genuinely thinking about what he said. He starts feeling a bit shitty for having snapped at her like that - she wasn’t completely wrong to keep rubbing it in his face, she did suffer two gunshot wounds from him, after all.

“I’m not mad.“ Y/N finally speaks up, not sparing him as much as a look, “I’m grateful. The Joker isn’t the only thing I was trying to escape. One half the day I was doing his dirty work, the other half I had a needle stuck in my arm or was out cold in a drug induced half-coma.“ This time she does turn to take in the expression change that’s happened on his face and she seems pleased with the shock and confusion she sees. “Bet you didn’t know that, did ya?“ Contemplating her next move for a second, she plays with the belts of her bulletproof vest and gear before seemingly deciding on what to do. Her fingers quickly undo the belts and buttons of the gear that’s covering her torso, removing the strong and dense protective material to expose the skin of her side where there’s a scar where she had to have surgery to get the bullet removed. Around the scar there’s a tattoo of a peculiar looking flower, masking the line as a part of itself, “I got that tattoo as a reminder of that night. A tribute to more than one freedom coming to me at once.” She quickly readjusts her gear, and slumps into the seat with a sigh of a deflating balloon. “No longer a slave, no longer an addict. Though, addicts are slaves too - slaves to our own brain’s dependency on a substance that’s destroying us.”

Rick is at a loss for words. He wasn’t expecting that, never did he think Y/N was an addict as well prior to being a henchwoman and then a prisoner. That’s probably due to the fact that she’s always been in a great physical shape, ready to take on the enemy whenever and wherever. “Damn, fucking hell, I’m sorry you had to go through that, Y/N...“ He really doesn’t know what’s there to say when he now feels even shittier than he did before.

He almost jumps out of his skin when he feels her hand on his bicep, “I would still be going through it if it wasn’t for you. In fact, come to think of it, I should apologize for pouncing at you like that when all you did was do me a favor.” She giggles quietly before adding, “But I won’t.”

He too allows himself a small laugh, “I wasn’t expecting you to.“

Of course he wasn’t, he’s come to know her well. And he also knows it’s nothing personal - Y/N is simply not the type of girl who apologizes. That he can stomach, but imagining his co-pilot seat unoccupied on the way back from this mission he cannot.

Damn it, Flag. God fucking damn you, you’ve done it again haven’t you, he asks himself, knowing the answer perfectly well already.

[heresathreebee]

KINKTOBER DAY 8 Seduction

Rick Flag X Reader smut

Tag(s): 18+ | 1.6k words | oral female receiving, teasing, ndercover, drinking, unedited

AN: reader has base 17 skill in slight of hand

You're his target. A cat burglar who has taken something of too high a value to risk losing. That's why Waller is sending him in with an unusual ask. 

"Seduce the target, steal the necklace, bring it back." 

This is not the colonel's skill set and Waller seems to be banking on the fact that he's handsome but this is a terrible idea. You can't hustle a hustler and you can't burgle a professional burglar. He doesn't even know if you're dangerous that is how blind he is going into his mission. 

Backup is literally just two idiots and Cleo in the same room. Peacemaker is bad at acting natural (literally staring at you at all times), but Dubois is too casual (taking drinks and chatting up the elite guests just to try take them down a peg and frankly he's just making enemies at this point). 

Rick is feeling kind of fucked on this one. 

He catches your eye in a moment of weakness (his, not yours). He's downing his third champagne flute out of nervousness when he notices you notice him with his flute basically upside down. He clears his throat in embarrassment. 

"I'm… uh… not familiar with these types of parties…" 

You smile almost kindly at him. He's been tugging at his tie all night– you saw him across the room. "Need some air?" 

You offer your arm to him and he hesitantly takes it. Rick can hear Waller in his comm sighing 'fucking finally' because he has been at this party for almost an hour unable to get close to you. You take him outside to a balcony with a wrought iron french style railing. 

"Thanks," Rick sighs. 

It's not the most dignified move of his mission, but he's with you isn't he? You offer your drink and he declines. "Nervous, dear? Whatever for?" 

Rick shifts his weight and does some quick thinking on the spot. "Babysitting gigs aren't really my thing." 

"Oh?," you chuckle, "and who might you be babysitting? Is it the little girl in the french satin or the blond Eye of Sauron?" 

Jesus of course you noticed Peacemaker. At least you didn't notice Dubois (yet). "Both. The young lady is my boss' daughter, and the um, the Watcher is a coworker." 

"Security detail?" 

"Something like that, we're not used to low profiles, you might say." 

You laugh and polish off your drink. That's when he notices your neck. The gleaming, fat jewels of the British monarchy, just dangling from your neck above a tasteful dress bodice. 

You give him your name. Like your actual name, not one of your dozens of aliases. "And you are?" 

"Charmed and unfortunately on the clock," he replies, "stop me if I'm being too forward but would you like to go out for a drink another night?" 

"What are you doing?!," Waller cursed, "she's wearing it, Flag, get it now!" 

What is she mad at him for this time– sticking to the plan?? They're supposed to get the necklace undetected and they sent the soldier to do it, not a pickpocket. The plan was to smooze it up until they could find someone with a modicum of decorum at petty theft. Stealing from the world's greatest jewel thief. 

Flag elects to ignore her. You, for your part, seem disappointed by his decision. "Are you sure you can't slip away for a minute? Sauron seems like he's pretty much got it covered." 

Just then the sound of shouting and lots and lots and lots of glass shattering rose from beyond the french balcony doors. You looked over his shoulder but he knows it's one of his idiots. 

"That man just knocked aaaalll of those crystal wine glasses down from the tower..." 

"That," Rick sighed, "would be my boss." 

Dubois is a fucking mess, that's how they finally caught him. Challenged him to a drinking game to dull his senses then arrested his drunk ass and threw him in Belle Reeve. 

Rick feels your hand slip inside his jacket– not to lift something but to feel him– a second before your very nice body pressed to the front of his suit. He looked at you with a poorly disguised anticipation for what you might do or say next. 

You gave him a pouting lip. "You're really gonna leave a girl hanging, mystery security guy?" 

Rick bit his lip in thought. He knows what Waller wants him to do but it feels wrong. At least you're attractive and maybe he can justify it because you're one of the 'bad guys.' 

"My name is Rick," he replies, "and I guess I'm not going anywhere fast." 

"Oh yes you are," you reply with excitement. "You! Are coming with me." 

"Where?" 

"Somewhere private, handsome. We're not the only ones on this balcony." You take him by the hand and drag him to the end of the balcony. He panics and grabs your other hand when you climb over the railing. "Relax baby, I need to grab a key. Keep a lookout, will you?" 

He watches you scuttle away, the long skirt of your gown whipping around your ankles as you disappear. Cool, now he's an accessory to a crime you're committing. There's no way the room will be yours. 

You come back and dangle a key marked 500. He helps you climb back onto the correct side of the railing and you both take an elevator to the penthouse floor. 500 turns out to be the porter's room adjacent to the penthouse suite to your disappointment.

"Let's not push our luck," Rick reasons. 

God, was really about to do this? Is this where his career had taken him? To a penthouse with a notorious jewel thief and his boss in his ear about to witness an intense undercover moment of intimacy? 

When did Rick Flag become fucking James Bond? 

You snatch the device from his ear and submerge it in a glass of scotch on the vanity. "No interruptions. No exceptions." 

Well… at least he can find some enjoyment now. Rick allows you to work his suit off piece by piece. You seem to savor every layer that comes off, bringing him closer and closer to being laid bare before you. The feeling of being… admired, almost worshipped so openly strikes him unexpectedly. 

When you free the last button of his shirt he cups your cheeks and kisses you tenderly. You seem to melt beneath his attention, molding your body with his and breathing him in. 

It doesn't feel wrong like before. He was worried about feeling like he was using you but… this is different. Rick slides the gown from your shoulders and works your dress off you. To say your underthings were sparse is pretty accurate and in an instant you stand before his kneeling figure in nothing but a thong and a necklace. 

Oh fuck the necklace thats why ue was here! 

"You should take that off too, I'd hate for something to happen to it while we're… you know," he winks. 

You laugh, "oh honey, this is an eagle clasp– I need a whole fucking tool to take it off and I do not have that on me right now." 

You finger one of the shiny off white jewels and say, "you are right though… need to protect it from getting damaged…" 

Rick's not sure how but you trick him into agreeing to be tied to the headboard naked as the day he was born. Once the ties are secured you sit your cute butt right over his chest. 

"Comfortable?" 

Rick nods his head. His heart's pounding and he's convinced you can feel it against your clothed core. You seem to revel in the control you have over him and there's a part of him that hopes you use it to the fullest extent. 

"I'm gonna ride that pretty face, baby." You leaned back casually and Rick jumps when your hand wraps around his cock roughly. "And then I'm going to fuck you raw. Sound good?" 

Rick nods, unable to stop himself from bucking into your hand. The first taste of your pussy is like a drug, he eagerly laps at your clit, his hips rocking into nothing as he thinks about how good you're going to feel around his cock. 

Your moans are going to be the soundtrack to every wet dream he has for years to come and the feeling of your thighs crushing his head fills him with pride. 

"Jesus, Mary, Joseph…" 

You're one step away from crossing yourself– this man eats pussy like it's his job. What would he be like if you let him use his hands…? No! No, you have other plans. 

Your pussy leaves wet streaks on his chest as you climb down his body. Rick is on the verge of begging for you to go faster, to fuck him like you own him (he has completely forgotten the mission at this point). 

And just when you're about to slide his schlong in your dripping heat– 

Peacemaker breaks the door down. 

Amanda Waller scolds the entire team in a limo ride home. Dubois and Cleo are asleep, Peacemaker fuming silently and very intent to avoid looking at his CO, and Rick– well Rick is distracted trying to keep himself covered with a blanket. No low profile, Rick didn't get to come, and they didn't have the necklace. 

He did get a kiss goodbye and the ornament from your hair as a token. He twirls it in his hand and shows it to Cleo, elbowing her awake. 

"Hm?" Cleo rubs the sleep from her eyes and examines it. "Oh! This is fermoir. You use it to fasten and unfasten the clasp of the Toussaint." 

Rick looks at it again. "She said she didn't have it…" 

"Clearly she lied," Peacemaker grumbles. 

Cleo looks around at everybody. "Umm, Mr Flag sir? Do you realize you're wearing the necklace?" 

"I'm what??" Sure enough, Rick reaches for his neck and well how did he not notice that. 

[anne-chloe]

Destined To Survive |11|

| Negan x YA!F!Reader (Ricks Niece) |

Summary: You’re forced to watch as Daryl is given your punishment.

(Part 10 Here) (Part 12 Here)

Eleven | Daryl Dixon

It was the middle of the night when he returned back from his hunting trip. He stalked into the makeshift camp with a limp deer slung over his shoulder, crossbow gripped in his hand, a certain tiredness behind his eyes.

You sat by yourself in front of the fire, being the last one awake save for Dale perched on top of the caravan. You observed the way Daryl sauntered in, avoiding eye contact as he simply slung the dead deer to one side, not a word spoken. The fire illuminated the grim expression across his face; how young he looked.

“You’re back,” you muttered softly, not wanting to disturb the lulling snores emitting from the tents behind. You hugged your knees close, a small comforting act that kept you feeling safe in these dark, unsure times. “I was worried you’d gotten hurt.”

Daryl snorted, a look of surprised flashing briefly across his face. “Worried? Save that for your family, kid.”

You furrowed your brows together. “I’m not a kid, Daryl. I’m nineteen,” you said in a matter-of-fact way, similar to how a child would be petty and correct their friend over something mundane. “And you are family now, we’ve been through so much together already.”

Daryl seemed to tense at your statement, almost like he wasn’t sure how to accept it. He pondered it for a moment or two, his expression softening ever so slightly before hardening into an upset frown. He roughly waved you off, a snarl curling at his downturned lips.

“Sayin’ ya ain’t a kid when that’s exactly what a kid would say,” he grunted, “we ain’t family.”

You didn’t get the chance to say anything more as Daryl stomped away, leaving you alone in the twisting fire and the presence of a dead deer. You stared off in the direction he left in, heart clenching in sadness. The world was too dark for hate and resentment, especially when it needed support and a tight knit community at this very moment.

You were uncomfortable.

Squished in the middle of Negan’s underlings, their eyes trained on you like murderous assassins, you felt suffocated and trapped despite the room being so large and airy. You hated every second and every minute that dragged by, wishing for nothing more than to disappear.

Negan stood in the centre of the room, grinning at the circle that had already gathered around him. You stood relatively towards the front, having no other choice but to have front row seats to whatever would happen next.

And what did happen next, it made you feel sick.

Daryl was roughly shoved into the centre, his knees giving out before tumbling to the floor. His ragged hair fell over his eyes, but you could see the way his face twisted into a scowl. He pulled himself to his feet, his chest puffing out as Negan stepped towards him, his body shaking and shuddering in defence.

Negan curled his fingers into his palm, raised his arm and struck Daryl across the face. You lurched forwards and let out a wail, but Laura held you back by the upper arm. She restrained you, not letting you move in either direction, and forced you to watch.

“What’re you doing?”

“Hm?” You looked over your shoulder, barely acknowledging the gruff man before shrugging him off, returning your attention back to the animal traps you were trying to put together. Shane had been a bit harsh with you earlier, mentioning how you didn’t fully contribute to the group, and that upset you quite a lot. So, to prove him wrong, and to make it known you were valuable to the group, you decided to bring back some food.

“Catching dinner,” you muttered. The trap suddenly snapped shut; you yelped and snatched your hand back, holding it close to your chest as a trail of blood leaked down your palm. You groaned, glancing between the failed idea and the consequence.

You sighed, using your foot to push the broken trap away. It was straight back to the drawing board—what else could you do for the group?

“Yer bleedin’.”

Looking up from the floor, your brows furrowed together in confusion. Concern crossed Daryl’s face, a frown set upon his lips, eyes looking downturned with worry. You spared a glance at your hand, a numbness spreading through your body at the acknowledgement of the blood trickling down your hand.

“Oh, yeah, it’s fine,” you half heartedly assure, “I’ll ask Aunt Lori to bandage me up or something.”

To your surprise, Daryl crouched next to you. He took your hand in his and carefully examined the wound. You stared with wide eyes, more surprised at how gentle this gruff, lone wolf man was being, especially after you’d seen him being so cold hearted alongside Merle upon first meeting them.

“C’mon,” Daryl muttered, helping you to your feet. You timidly walked beside him back to the main camp area, his hand cradling your injured one. He sat you down near his tent and started rummaging through his belongings, fishing out some bandages and other items. Once gathered, he crouched back in front of you and started to carefully clean the wound.

You winced at the alcohol entering your system, but steadied yourself so you wouldn’t flinch. You didn’t want to annoy Daryl or scare him away, especially since he was being so kind to you. So you bit your tongue and endured the fleeting pain.

And once Daryl was finished wrapping the bandage around your hand, you held your hand up and admired his handy work in awe. Daryl glanced between you and your injury, an indescribable emotion flashing in his eyes. You grinned at Daryl.

“Thank you, Daryl.”

Daryl stayed quiet for a beat of a moment. A scowl then presented itself across his face. “Whatever.” He stood from the floor and started to walk away, but he suddenly paused and glanced back at you from over his shoulder. He seemed to be pondering something, the gears turning rapidly inside his head, an internal debate happening.

“C’mere,” he gestured you over, “I’ll show ya how to make a proper trap.”

Daryl fought back as best as he could. He held his ground despite the intense kicks and punches flying his way. Anger consumed him, a frustration building inside that even if he did somehow win this fight, he’d be tackled and beaten to near death by Negan’s merry hand of Saviours.

You could only helplessly watch, a suffocating guilt aching from within. You choked back wails and sobs, not wanting to distract Daryl, but unable to control your emotions. This was your fault—if you hadn’t tried to escape, if you’d just waited for a better moment, Daryl wouldn’t be taking the brunt force of your punishment.

Laura steadied you on your feet, her weight supporting yours. You weren’t even aware of how gentle her grip was on you, or the way her fingers gently combed your hair in a soothing motion. You were too focused, too broken to even notice the smaller details of your situation. Daryl was hurting, and it was your fault.

“Claimed!”

Bowing your head in defeat, you squeeze your eyes closed and accept your inevitable fate. You didn’t know these men, and they didn’t know you, yet their cruel intentions were crystal clear. They would more than likely have their way with your body then discard you to the Walkers, and being severely outnumbered meant you couldn’t do anything about it.

After the Prison fell, you’d lost sight of your family. You had been surrounded by Walkers, with only a small knife and an empty handgun as your trusty allies. So you bolted, made your way into the forest and watched from a safe distance as the Prison became overrun with the Dead. But staying on the outskirts meant you were exposed to any type of attack, so you left the area entirely in hopes that you would bump into another person.

And now, here you were, surrounded by sleazy, evil men and their twisted intentions, waiting for your fate to be sealed.

“Don’t touch her, she’s mine, I said she’s claimed,” a familiar voice gruffly stated, emerging from the tree line behind you. You didn’t dare turn around, fear having frozen you to the spot, preventing you from acting upon your curiosity. The footsteps neared closer until a hand gripped your shoulder. You whimpered, tensing under the touch, a single tear breaking drew down your cheek.

“You heard Daryl, boys. She’s claimed. Let’s keep moving.”

Your breathing quickened, eyes opening slowly. Daryl? Did that man say Daryl?

The grip on your shoulder soon became gentle, a soothing touch that you relaxed into. You willed yourself to raise your head, chest tightening anxiously as you watched the herd of men begin to walk away. Slowly, you looked up and over your shoulder, your entire body melting in relief when you realised that you were saved.

“Oh… oh, Daryl!” You wailed loudly, throwing yourself at him. He wrapped his arms around your body, cradling you against his chest; you could feel his heart hammering, fast, aggressive pounds inside his chest. You buried your face into his neck, tears streaming down your cheeks as uncontrolled sobs broke free.

The panic, the fear that consumed you became too overwhelming to deal with, leaving you a blubbering mess as all trauma rose to the surface. You’d been alone for so long since the Prison fell, so you were starting to believe that you were the only survivor who had made it out alive. You wanted to be angry at yourself to believing that—and you knew now that if Daryl was alive, there was hope that Rick, Carl, Judith, Michonne, and everyone else had made it out too.

“It’s alright, kid, I’ve got ya,” Daryl muttered. He supported your weight and helped you to your feet, urging you to start walking. You followed his lead and clung onto his arm, too frightened to let go. “We gotta keep movin’, we’re headin’ towards Terminus, they’re huntin’ down a guy that killed one of their own.”

His eyes skimmed over your form, briefly checking for injuries. Satisfied that you weren’t wounded badly, he continued to walk with you after the group. “I won’t let ‘em hurt ya… I got you.”

The aftermath left you numb.

You stared aimlessly ahead as Daryl lay beaten on the floor. His breathing was laboured, uneven; his eyes shut, limbs resting beside him. Cuts, bruises and scratches littered his visible skin, and trickles of blood started to pool underneath him.

You desperately wanted to go to him, to hold him close and protect him from Negan. But you couldn’t. What would happen if you tried? Would that just result in a bigger punishment again? Would Negan go as far as killing Daryl to prove a point? You wanted to believe he was just trying to scare you into behaving, but you couldn’t risk Daryl’s life like that.

Not again.

Negan turned to you, his chest puffed outwards. For a moment he looked upset, but his expression quickly turned into a wicked grin. He approached you and placed a hand on your shoulder, urging you to look at him. You could only stare with a particular malice and hatred, despising what he was doing in a world already so cruel.

“Have you learned your lesson yet?” He asked coldly.

You wanted to snap at him. Yell at him. Punch him, kick him, do something to hurt him.

But you couldn’t. You fought back your disgust for Negan and stiffly nodded your head, swallowing back your pride before letting out a small, meek, “yes.”

[theolympusfiles]

rereading the PJO and HoO - part one: the lightning thief

before i start, all italicized parts are from the lightning thief by rick riordan. they're not my words and these are not my characters. my thoughts are the only thing that are mine :)

• "mom, you're coming too." her face was pale, her eyes as sad as when she looked at the ocean. "no!" i shouted, you are coming with me. help me carry grover". - the first(ish) appearance of percy's fatal flaw! i love the early establisment, especially because it helps foreshadow to the sea of monsters when fatal flaws are formally introduced.

• "that's -" "pasiphae's son," my mother said. "i wish i'd known how badly they wanted to kill you." - sally is underappreciated. she's smart as hell and clearly took the time to research demigods. yes, she was a little bit selfish with keeping percy out of the loop and not sending him to camp. but can you blame her? she lost all of her family and if she sent percy to CHB at an early age, that most nearly means she won't see him often (he'll attract monsters because he's aware of his status as a demigod and will most likely be at camp full-time). but sally ensured that she knew enough about the demigod world to protect percy because she knew that her selfishness would come with consequences. best mom.

• i was crying, calling for my mother, but i held on to grover - i wasn't going to let him go. - percy's first loss as a demigod and i am broken. honestly, so sad to think of, especially knowing all the losses he'll face in the future books. this line is also his fatal flaw showing once again (refer to first bulletpoint)

• "it (america) is the great power of the west. and so olympus is here. and we are here." - if olympus follows the west, where would the next location be? obviously, america is still a big powerhouse in terms of western civilization but that's not going to last. my bet is south korea but who knows? would love a fanfic on this tbh

• "the truth is, i can't be dead. you see, eons ago the gods granted my wish. i could continue the work i loved. i could be a teacher of heroes as long as humanity needed me. i gained so much from that wish... and i gave up so much. but i'm still here, so i can only assume i'm still needed." - how will it be decided that he's not needed? honestly, can't imagine CHB without him but chiron also deserves retirement

• i started to understand luke's bitterness and how he seemed to resent his father, hermes so okay, maybe gods had important things to do. but couldn't they call once in a while, or thunder or something? - percy has always showed some hesitance when accepting the demigod world, so i wasn't really surprised to see doubts like this pop up, especially with luke's influence. i'd think most demigods feel this way, luke and percy are just the ones who exhibit it the most in the series. i'm really interested in the parallels between the two and i'm looking forward to reading more and examining them

• "during the winter solstice, at the last council of the gods, zeus and poseidon had an argument. the usual nonsense: 'mother rhea always liked you best', 'air disasters are more spectacular than sea disasters', etc. - despite the fact that the gods are all-powerful beings, i appreciate the petty sibling spats that are mentioned briefly

• "so let me get this straight," i said. "i'm supposed to go to the underworld and confront the world of the dead." "check," chiron said. "find the most powerful weapon in the universe." "check." "and get it back to olympus before the summer solstice in ten days." "that's about right." i looked at grover, who gulped down the ace of heaers. "did i mention that maine is very nice this time of year?" he asked weakly. - this would be perfect for those 30 second trailers

• "gee," i said feigning surprise. "who else would be stupid enough to volunteer for a q uest like this?" the air shimmered behind chiron. annabeth became visible, stuffing her yankees cap into her back pocket. - the way he knows her pretty well already, i-

• the truth was, i didn't care about retrieving zeus' lightning bolt, or saving the world, or even helping my father out of trouble. - early on, we see from the get go that percy has a dislike for the gods. it's small mentions like this that really gets me thinking. he never really showed any dislike of the gods when he first arrived at camp (understandable) but he was hopeful for his father. it wasn't until luke planted the seed into his head that these thoughts came to light. i love this little detail, especially as we know that towards the end, luke does seem to think he can turn percy against the gods. his plan backfired a little bit on him in the end but like i said before, the parallels between luke and percy are so glaring. riordan definitely thought it out extensively

• do not be a pawn of the olympians, my dear. you would be better off as a statue - this is said to percy by medusa and again, feeds into his dislike of the gods. i wonder if monsters have some opinion on this. most would probably hate the gods but i wonder what their stance is on demigods. we know that they work with them (see kronos' army). the real enemy for monsters are the gods, the demigods killing them are just pawns to the gods so maybe that's how some monsters see them

• "so, what's your status?" luke asked me. "chiron will be sorry he missed you." i told him pretty much everything, including my dreams. it felt so good to see him, to feel like i was back at camp even for a few minutes, that i didn't even realize how long i had talked to him until the beeper went off on the spray machine. - there's no doubt that percy really considered luke a friend. he wasn't hesitant to tell luke about his dreams, something that he didn't share with annabeth or grover until later on the book. luke was a sort of mentor to percy and it was conveyed pretty well through their interactions, which makes his betrayal even more heartbreaking

• "you think you'll ever try living with your dad again?" she wouldn't meet my eyes. "please. i'm not into self-inflicted pain." - my heart breaks for annabeth and her relationship with her father. i've read most of the riordanverse books and the growth in annabeth's relationship with her family is definitely something i'm looking forward to watch grow as i make my way through the books again

• i looked over at the desk and saw a girl sitting there, also wearing a straitjacket - so i never paid the dreams any mind but now that i think about it, they're really good for analysis. for example, the straitjacket could mean something like the gods are keeping them restrained. maybe i'm overthinking it or have been analyzing text too much in AP english but i think that the dreams are worth some deeper thinking

• i pretended not to see annabeth wipe a tear from her cheek as she listened to the mournful keening of cerberus in the distance, longing for his new friend - i need to see annabeth play with cerberus again D:

• i turned and faced my mother. i desperately wanted to sacrifice myself and the last pearl on her, but i knew what she would say. she would never allow it. i had to get the bolt back to olympus and tell zeus the truth. i had to stop the war. - percy's growth as a character really shines through here. the lightning thief is a pretty short book and the journey they took was less than 2 weeks but despite that percy's grown immensely as a character. his goal was always to save his mother but in the end, he sacrificed her because he knew it was his duty to save olympus and i respect that

• "you have made an enemy, godling," he told me. "you have sealed your fate. every time you raise your blade in battle, everytime you hope for success, you will feel my curse. beware, perseus jackson. beware." - ares cursed percy to be unsuccesful in battle but does his curse ever take effect? i don't recall any mention of this curse later on the series. obviously, percy is the main character and a really good swordfighter but the curse might have affected some battles right? but then again riordan has a lot of plotholes so i wouldn't put too much thought in it

• i knew dionysus must've filled it out, because he stubbornly insisted on getting my name wrong. - i've always accepted the fact that dionysus called the demigods by their wrong name for humor. but what if it's deeper? what if it's a way to put some space between him and the demigods, just as an extra precaution so he won't get attached. or it could be a ploy to showcase that he's more powerful than them and that they are beneath him, which is why he doesn't need to know their name. i like the former headcanon more though :P

• i opened my eyes. i was propped up in bed in the sickroom of the big house, my right hand bandaged like a club. argus stood guard in the corner. annabeth sat next to me, holding my nectar glass and dabbing a washcloth on my forehead. "here we are again," i said. - the parallel

well, that's everything i had notes on. overall, i liked rereading it. i really do miss this series and i'm finding my love for it be rekindled by rereading. i miss the humor of the early books (i could literally make a whole post of underrated lines). the last time i read the series in its whole was when i was 7 and now that i'm 16, i have more thoughts and can analyze the story better. also loved seeing baby percabeth as they're my OTP. i'm excited to continue with the series. to the sea of monsters!

[enigma-im]

Twelfth day of Christmas...

Trope: Mutual pining Relationship: Robot x Human Word count: 6,589

The bell chimes from the door. Without missing a beat I continue welding the derby car in front of me. It doesn't take a genius to realize who is here at such a ridiculous hour. Tenna just has to wait till I'm finished fixing up Bruce's dumpster car. Sparks fly off the dented pieces of metal, splashing around in wonderous fireworks. If the sight wasn't a norm I'd almost consider its beauty. As I lower the flame to judge my work I see Tenna sitting on the couch across from me. I try not to look at him, knowing the second he has my attention I'm done for. I can kiss getting this done before tomorrow morning goodbye.

I try my damndest to ignore him, just finishing off the line before I can bother thinking about him. It's a hard task as I already feel anxious with him watching me. His stare picks at me till I'm honestly fighting the urge to look up. It's like he has some gravity to him that I'm drawn to.

"Damn it," I sigh. I turn off the torch and slam it on the hood of the Junker. I snap my helmet covered eye to him, seeing that infuriating smirk on his skull-like face. He has to know what that does to me. Tenna is an annoying little tick that has no business getting under my skin the way he does. His constant presence and never-ending teasing will be my undoing one day.

But damn if I don't love him for it.

Slamming my helmet up I glare at him," Have any idea what time it is?"

"10:34pm exactly," he spreads his arms wide on the couch headrest," is that a problem?"

Scoffing at his know-it-all look I toss the helmet on top of the car with the welding torch. I walk over to my workbench, picking up a used rag to wipe my face. Glancing over at Tenna I catch him staring, his legs spreading wide in an 'I'm powerful' pose. I roll my eyes as my heart flutters. How dare he.

"What do you need this time, Tenna," I ask, cutting to the chase.

"Haven't seen you in nearly a week and all you've got to say is 'you know what time it is' and 'what do you need this time'," he mocks my voice," can't I just come to see my favorite mechanic?"

I look deadpan to him," I've known you for nearly two years, not once have you just come to visit me. So I'll ask one more time, what do you need?"

He drops the act quickly, his shoulders sagging as he leans forward," Ricky Bower accidentally knocked me on my ass last week, and ever since I've been losing feeling to my hands." he raises his palms upwards, clenching his hand into fists. "It's strange and I'd greatly appreciate your help," he attempts to be kind as he asks. Knowing I can't ever say no to this idiot I motion him over to the bench.

Tenna hops up with a pep in his step. I watch him snatch the roller chair from beside the car, bringing it over before plopping down. Holding my hands out he sets his gently over them. I take the moment to feel his lightly warmed metal and leathery palms. His body has fascinated me for as long as I've known him. Having great knowledge in most things that deal with metal and wires I have never really understood how someone can make life like him. He is amazing.

Shaking out of my exploration I trace my fingers over his palm, looking up to him. "Feel that," I ask.

"Nope," he pops the P. I pinch at his fingers, digging my nail into the springy synthetic.

"That?"

"Why all the testing? I told you I can't feel a thing," he snaps. I grind my teeth at his tone, tempted to drop the task. I don't need him charging in here and demanding a fix. Scoffing I give into my petty ire and push his hands away.

"Alright, Mr. Know-it-all, fix your damn self," I hop out of my chair, ready to abscond to my office to pout like a lovesick teen. Before I can make it a step he snatches my wrist, tugging me back.

"Fine, fine," he sighs," I'm sorry. Will you please ignore my pitiful outbursts, I'm just a tad frustrated not being able to feel anything." his gaze drops to where he Is holding me, rubbing his thumb across my skin. He huffs.

I snatch my hand out of his," Fine, but one more and I'm kicking ya out."

"Wouldn't expect anything less," he smirks.

I grab his hand again, trailing my hands to his forearm where I open a panel. The underside of his arm pops off easily. Having replaced this very piece long before it no longer stays connected. I set it off to the side. I expertly look over his wires and parts. It all looks to be working fine, I dig my fingers in to investigate deeper.

"So what did Ricky do again," I ask, filling the silence as I work. I feel him shrug as his arm jostles in my hands.

"That dumb son of a bitch was wobbling on his way out the bar. Being the kind soul I am-" I roll my eyes,"-I walked him home. As he nearly caves his head in on the street I grab him, trading places with him as the dumb son of a bitch to cave his head in on the street." I snort at the image. The all graceful Tenna falling headfirst into the pavement like a drunkard. The scene replays in my mind as I snap my eyes up to him.

"So it's your head, not your arm," I bark as I grab the panel and click it back to place. Standing, I snatch his head and tug it towards me. He hovers close to my bosom but I'm far too distracted with tearing off the cranium plating to care.

"Very grabby today," he chuckles. I toss the panel to the bench and dig through the countless wires to reach where the small dent on the back of his head is. The protective layer that sits on the back of his head is pressing too hard on his processor. The wires are detached and loose. I scoff, pleased but annoyed at finding the issue. What an idiot for going a week without coming in.

I try to take a step away from him to grab my wire welding set but I'm held in place. Confused, I look to the hands holding my hips. Tenna looks up, quickly letting go and sliding back with the chair.

"Sorry," he coughs," you kept bumping me and I-uhh- yep." I stare for a moment, squinting at his strange behavior before I run off to my office.

I fix up his head, pleased as can be as I shut the panel back. Plopping down onto my chair I hold my palms out again. I gesture him forward. He drops his hand unceremoniously onto mine.

"Have you always been this warm," he asks, pressing his palm against mine.

"Does it feel different," I ask worried I screwed something up. I'm no genius in the ways of advanced robotics. He doesn't answer, trailing his hands over my wrist. Growing curious he abandons my hands and cups my cheeks. His fingers pet over my nose and under my eye. Smoothing down my eyebrows as I tense.

"What are you doing," I slowly recoil from his touch though it feels so welcoming. His thumbs grace the corners of my eyes as he smiles sweetly to himself.

"I can feel the crow's feet, ya fixed me again, doc," he jokes. I slap his hands away, insulted at the insinuation that I have crow's feet. He laughs, letting me walk away in a huff.

Tenna

I left her place later than I intended, leaving her asleep on the couch. Heading out of her scrap yard I make my way down the road towards my home. Passing many closing bars and dark alleys. I manage to get out of the dumpster fire that is downtown to get to my humble abode out of the city. It's not a far walk, a decent enough journey to a sweet little place in a sweet little neighborhood.

I trot up the steps, the door unlocking at my proximity. Stepping into the living room I find Ricky asleep on the couch similar to Valerie. Quietly I make my way to my room, flipping the light on to look at the large messy room. I step over the clutter of junk, passing by my vanity. Stopping for a moment I admire the dent on the back of my head, wincing at it.

"Didn't have to hit so hard," I grunt.

Quickly completing my nighttime rituals I plug myself in and power down for the night.

The next morning I sit in the kitchen, reading on my tablet as Ricky steps in. He's a half-dressed, sloppy man, sorting through the fridge.

"How did last night go," he asks. I sigh, dropping the tablet to the table.

"Pretty good actually. She fixed me up quickly, got to even hold her for that bit, and we talked afterward. You know Gilbert stiffed her the forty he owed her for fixing up his Camry," I answer. He grunts in answer, chugging milk like the slob he is. I grimace at the white trickle going down his neck. With a satisfied gasp, he wipes his face.

"Did you actually get anywhere this time or did you play annoying best friend again," he asks.

"No," I cross my arms," I didn't plan to do anything anyways."

Ricky snorts," wimp."

"Hey," I bark," I'm not a wimp. I'm just a good guy trying not to ruin a good thing going for me."

"yea," he shrugs," a wimp."

I pout, grumbling under my breath as I try to think of something clever to say. Ricky just snorts again, heading towards the cupboards for a snack.

"Just go for it, you beating around the bush just leaves time for her to find someone better. She puts up with your stupid injuries that you cause just as an excuse to see her. Nut up and make a move," he suggests. I can't help but chuckle at the pun. It trails off as I grovel in self-pity some more.

"It's not that easy, Rick," I sneer," she can barely stand me, and asking for more than what we have would be me just ruining something good. If all I can get is once a week with her then I'll take it. She doesn't need some idiot pulling her back anyway."

Ricky glares at me but shakes it off as the argument goes in circles. I adore Valerie, ever since she first fixed me up. She's so snarky and kind, I couldn't help but adore her. But, I'm nothing special and I know she finds me tolerable at best. I sigh, slacking in the chair.

Valerie

Bruce stops by sometime this week to grab his Junker car for the derby this weekend. With the bit of money he gives me I have enough to splurge on some necessities for the shop. I spend my day off cleaning up and ordering pieces online. Though I'm one for always working I enjoy getting to calm it all down every Tuesday. No customers to argue with, pieces of shit cars to try to fix up. Just alone with some loud music.

I sweep the garage floor, startled at the bot standing by the front door. Jumping nearly out of my skin I pause the music and catch my breath. Tenna laughs at me as I hold my hand to my chest.

"If I wasn't mistaken I think I scared ya," he teases.

"Yea," I shout," not shit." Tenna gives me a moment to ease my racing heart before continuing his teasing.

"You humans are just so jumpy. Scared of your own shadow," he snickers.

I scoff, setting the broom aside," cause you're any better? I remember vividly you whimpering over me replacing the pistons on your back."

"Hey," he barks, pointing to me," being in pain and getting scared are two different things and I wasn't whimpering. If I was, it was because you don't have a gentle bone in your body."

I wave him off," excuses, excuses. What do you want anyway?"

Shoving his hands in his pockets he walks further into the shop," was just passing by and figured you could be of help in fixing the dent on the back of my head. You see, the ladies don't find the battle wound charming."

I snort," battle wound? Falling onto concrete sounds extremely heroic."

"Saving poor old men from cracking their skull on the sidewalk sounds pretty damn heroic," he defends himself. I smile, waving him over to the workbench.

"I'd recommend stopping with the 'heroics' though. You're in here nearly every week with some 'battle scars'," I scold halfheartedly. He sits down at the bench as I circle him to check out the dented metal on his head. Grabbing him and tilting him forward I see what I can do.

"Not my fault I'm such a good person," he grumbles. I snort, shaking my head.

I try just removing the dent the old fashion way, pulling it back into place. With that not working I remove the piece and try to hammer it back. That just makes it look worse. As all else fails I set out to make a new piece. I sort through some scrap I have mashed together in a milk crate. Jabbing myself on different bits of loose metal I find a sheet perfect enough to mold.

All the while I'm working I can feel Tenna's gaze on me. It makes me fumble with my work as I feel pressured by his attention. I want to seem smart and capable around him but he has a tendency to leave me flustered. I bite my cheek and try to think of something else while I cut the sheet of metal.

With the piece made I head back over, ready to try and perfect it. I stand behind him, tilting his head back down.

"Anything new lately," I ask him to fill the silence. He shrugs.

"I've been trying this new drink for bots, it's supposed to keep the inners all clean and oiled," he answers.

"Yea, how's it taste," I ask, knowing how picky he can be.

"Like shit. It's like they make us taste everything but won't put the effort into making things we can eat good," he huffs," it's almost insulting." I hum in answer. I lose track of the conversation for a bit as I walk off to smooth the edges so it can click into place.

"So Christmas is next week," I shout from across the shop.

"Yea, and?"

"What do you me 'yea, and', are you not doing anything," I ask.

He shrugs," what is there to do? Ricky is heading off to his parents then and I'm left alone till he comes back."

I nod in understanding. Ricky is Tenna's only friend. Though I have no room to talk, Tenna is my only friend. I fiddle with the piece in my hand as I ponder asking him to spend his holiday here. Surely that's a stupid question, why would he want to spend his day with me?

"Besides, it's a family holiday. As you know I lack in that department," he tries to joke. I swallow a comforting comment.

Walking around him again I set the piece, admiring the handiwork. I turn to the workbench for some spray paint to keep the color scheme. Though I've replaced most of his parts with scarp I do try to keep it presentable. I shake the can as I fight back the urge to invite him. It's a waste invitation, he wouldn't want to. I sigh.

"Tenna," I start, he hums," do you want to spend Christmas here with me?"

He straightens at the question, asking defensively," Why?"

"What do you mean why," I bite back.

"What do you mean 'what do you mean'? Why are you inviting me to your human celebration," he barks. I scoff, spraying the back of his head quickly.

"You're going to be alone and I thought it would be a nice thing for me to do," I answer.

"Oh, how giving of you. Don't put yourself out just for me," he folds his arms. I toss the can onto the desk, circling to his front.

"What is your problem, I'm just being nice," I sneer.

He glares up at me," I don't want the charity. I imagine you have better people to spend this time with."

"Oh yea, cause I'm drowning in friends right now. Got a family halfway across the country and no money to get to them. I'm spending this time of year alone and you of all people should know that," I shake my head, holding up my hand before he can speak," know what, never mind. Didn't know having to spend Christmas with me would be such a hassle."

His shoulders drop as he begins to stand," I didn't mean it like that, Val-"

I stop him," No, it's my fault. Should have known better. It's my bad." I turn on my heels and make my way to my office, Tenna trailing after me.

"Valerie, I didn't mean it that way. I was-," I interrupt him again.

"Fucking aye, Tenna, I get it," I snap," I fixed your stupid head, you can leave now."

Tenna tries to get in another word before I slam the door in his face. I stomp to the desk, collapsing in my chair as Tenna tries to knock on the door. His words are muffled but constant. I ignore him either way, stewing in my hurt feelings like a petulant child. Damn robots.

Tenna

I reluctantly leave her place, feeling like utter shit as I do. I hardly meant for it to come out like that but I couldn't help but get defensive. She wanted to spend her special holiday with me? Surely that had to be pity. I never want her pity, that alone stings more than anything.

I walk home, feeling the cold air more than before. Heading into my home I go straight for my room to stew in my ignorance for a little longer. Falling onto my bed I groan as I recall the conversation. How can I be such a fool? Rolling onto my side I rub at the new plate sitting on the back of my head. She always fixes me right up. Not once has she said no. I smile to myself before the image of the door slamming in my face came back. I groan again.

A while later I come out of my room to speak with Ricky, finishing with my moping for the time being. I find the slobby man lounged on the couch watching tv. Falling into the chair across from him I let out an exaggerated sigh. Ricky pretends to not notice so I do it again. With a roll of his eyes, he mutes the tv, turning to me with a fake smile.

"Hello, how may I help you," he says with great theatrics. I rest my cheek on my palm.

"Valerie's mad at me," I answer. Ricky tosses the remote down the couch, clenching his jaw.

"Yea? What did you do," he asks. I don't bother pretending I did no wrong.

"She asked to if I wanted to spend Christmas with her and I got all in my emotions about it," I grumble. Ricky scoffs, looking at me bemused.

"Your girl asks you to spend a holiday with her and you got pissy," he sits up, throwing his feet onto the floor," are you dense? Your girl asks you to spend time with her outside this stupid arrangement you two have and you don't immediately say yes and jump for joy?"

Well, when you say it like that I feel like more of an asshole. I lean forward and groan into my hands. I'm truly a fool.

"I couldn't help it. It felt like she was doing it because she felt bad and I couldn't handle her feeling like she had to do that," I clarify. Ricky barks out a humorless laugh, reaching over for a pillow and tossing it at me.

"You fucking idiot," he barks," what does it matter if she felt bad for you? If a girl wants you to spend time with her then the answer should always be yes!"

"I'm aware of that now," I shove the pillow aside," you know I suffer from lack of filter from brain to mouth."

He snickers," as do all men."

"so what should I do?"

Ricky stands from the couch," go back and apologies then kiss her like the lovesick fool you are."

"Be serious, please," I fall back against the chair. Ricky walks past, heading to the kitchen.

"I am. You keep beating around the bush and you need to be direct. Tell her how you feel- or better yet, show her how you feel- and then you two can get down to fucking like rabbits in her garage," he answers, shouting as he rounds into the kitchen. I stumble on my retort as I think about having my way with her in her shop. Her sweaty body against mine as I listen to her sweet cries of pleasure. I nearly short circuit at the thought, drooling if I could.

Ricky comes back in, hitting me on the head," Stop that, I don't wanna see if a robot can get a boner."

I shoo his hand away," shut up. That's a stupid plan."

He falls to the couch with his bowl of mixed snacks," compare to your year-long plan of injuring yourself I'd say it's fucking genius." I chuff, looking towards to tv in thought. They aren't stupid plans, they've worked every time. Even when she's been mad at me I've managed to get back in there to apologize with a well-placed missing wire. I snap my head to Ricky.

"There's an idea," I smirk," she has never said no so far." Ricky looks from the tv back to me, gawking before sneering.

"No," he points at me," don't chase that thought. For the love of God, just talk to her. You are making this harder than it has to be."

I rest my elbow on my knees," no, no. it will work. Just need your help trying to break something easily fixable and-"

"NO," he jumps up, slamming his bowl on the table," I'm not going to keep helping you hurt yourself just so you can go see her. I'm fucking done with this childish game. You need to get your shit together and talk to her like a damn adult."

I stare at him for a moment, caving quickly," but Ricky, just be a bro one more time. I promise I'll try to make some headway but for right now I just need to get her to talk with me and sh-"

"Tenna," he shouts," I can't keep doing this! I'm fucking done." he storms out the room. I shout after him, trying to plead before he slams his door. Huffing I fall back into the chair, looking to the space in thought. Well, that didn't work.

Valerie

I stew for the week, growing angrier as Christmas nears. The one time I try to reach out to him as more than his mechanic he shuts me down. How could I even hope for a second that he would see me more than that? Under the feeling of rage I have the weak sensation of disappointment and pain.

Wanting an actual friendship wasn't asking for much, right? It's not like I confessed my feeling, laying myself bare for him to judge and reject. It was a simple invitation for us both not to spend this time of year alone. I scoff, slamming my tools round harder than needed.

"Don't fucking need him anyway," I grumble," far too busy to spend Christmas with him." it's a lie but it does make me feel better. I can use the free time sorting through that horrendous filing cabinet. Yea, that's a good way to spend my day off.

I power through the week working on odd jobs, secretly holding out for Tenna to walk through the door. He never does though, staying away the whole week while I continue to stew. I don't miss him, no, far from it. It's just quiet around here, that's all. I sigh at the lie.

Christmas eve leaves me cold and alone. I try to work, keeping with the minor distractions till I'm just left numb. Some self-pampering is needed. I make myself a hot chocolate, sitting on my couch, and playing Christmas music throughout the shop. I mumble along to the overly repeated songs as I sip my drink, chewing on some marshmallows.

"Merry Christmas to me," I groan.

Nearly asleep I jolt awake at a pounding at my door. The cold leftover bit of cocoa spills on my blanket as my muddled brain tries to sort out what's happening. The pounding sounds again from the front entrance, followed by some shouting. Scared, I grab a tall wrench off the workbench as I head to the door. The second the entrance is inches open does the person on the other side barge in.

A sloppy-looking man charges in, carrying a tarp behind him. I scowl at the guy, barely noticing the heap of metal strewn across the blue tarp.

"Excuse me, what are you doing," I snap. The man lets go of the tarp with a heavy grunt.

"Help him," he glares down at the heap on the tarp. I finally take a moment to look, gasping at the sight.

"Tenna," I drop to my knees, grabbing at him. He is laid wrecked on the ground, not moving. The lights in his eyes are dim but still there. It's a minimal relief but the black scorch marks up his arms aren't.

"What happened, who are you, why is he-," I try to ask.

"He fucking shocked himself with a socket, and I'm Ricky. Now fix him so I can kick his ass when he's alright," the man growls. I nearly recoil at his volume but I can't look away from Tenna. Focusing, I grab at his arms, tearing off the panel to see the damage done. There are plenty of popped fuses, the wires leaving black marks where they meet. I reach in to find the most damage, throwing my hand back as the metal burns my fingers. I press my hand to his chest, wincing at the heat.

"He's overheating," I say as I jump up. I run over to my office, grabbing plyers and a screwdriver.

"Yea, what does that mean," Ricky asks, panicked. I shoo him aside, falling to my knees besides Tenna. Reaching for his torso again I slide his shirt up to his chest and begin to pry the plate off. Using the screwdriver I manage it easily. Looking at his bare inners I use the plyer to dig in the tiny hole near his artificial heart. I press the button deep down in there, turning him off. The light dims from his eyes as his body shuts down. The barely-there glow of his pupils is a faint relief.

"What are you doing," Ricky shouts," why did you turn him off, is he dead?"

I scoff," he isn't dead, or he better not be. I shut off most of his main functions so he can cool off while I fix the wires that he popped. He is technically still on but it's minor functions, mostly."

"Mostly," Ricky barks," can you fix him?"

"Of course I can fix him," I answer with false confidence. I think I can fix him. I'm sure as hell going to try because if this idiot dies on me I'm going to turn his body into a coffee machine. No, he won't get out of this that easy.

"yea, ok," Ricky answers, shaking a bit. Before I can start on Tenna I turn to Ricky.

"It's going to be ok, I got this. Why don't you grab my tools off the bench while you tell me what happened," I ask calmly. He nods, stumbling over to the bench while I pry off the plating on both arms. Ricky passes me the set, sitting down at Tenna's feet. I wait for him to start.

"I found him in his room after I heard a loud pop. I didn't think it came from him but when I saw him laid out jerking around on the floor I couldn't think. Gods," he rubs his face," I could kill him for putting me through that."

I rip the worn wires out, stripping them and re-welding them to his body," what did he do?"

Ricky scoffs, turning away," fucking shocking himself with the outlet. I swear, he is like a child sometimes." I scrunch my face up confused.

"Why would he do that," I ask.

"Because of you," he answers easily. I snap my attention to him, defensive and confused.

"Because of me?"

Ricky looks at me, fighting with himself before he reluctantly answers," this idiot has been making up every excuse to see you."

"So he shocked himself to see me," I ask, not really getting it.

"Shocked, maimed, dented, sabotaged. You name it, he had done it just so he had a reason to see you," he shrugs. I finish with one arm, leaving the plates off to let it cool. I start on the other side.

"Why would he do that," I wince as I burn my finger again. I feel Ricky's heavy gaze on me. Turning to him he sighs.

"Because he is in love with you and only idiots in love do stupid shit like this," he gestures to Tenna. I bark out a laugh, startling Ricky.

"No, that's not it. Why did he really do this," I shake my head amused. This hunk of junk couldn't be in love with me. That's funny in itself to assume such.

"He's in love with you. Has been since he met you," he answers. I scoff.

"I doubt that very much. He has been nothing but an ass, only coming to visit when he needs something. I consider him a good friend but I know he only sees me as his mechanic," I try to smile through the bitterness. Ricky laughs, throwing his head back as he busts a gut.

"Are you kidding me," he snickers," you two are exactly the same! Two idiots who just don't get the other."

I sneer, finishing up the wires before grabbing my soldering kit. Surely Ricky is mistaken, Tenna isn't in love with me.

"So, Valerie, are you in love with him," he asks with a big grin on his face. I fluster at the question, making him laugh again. "I fucking knew it. To think, I never met you and could tell you were as enamored with him as he is with you. If only he took my advice then you two would be spending your Christmas humping like lovesick teens," he chortles. I fluster more, wanting to roll up into a ball.

I solder the last wire, grumbling under my breath at everything. How can he go and do something like this? And just to get my attention? If what Ricky said is true then Tenna is more of an idiot than I thought. He never gave any hint that he liked me, let alone loved me. I spent the whole year feeling like shit because I adored this idiot, thinking he couldn't even give me a second glance. When he wakes up he is going to have an earful.

As I put away my tools I grab the plyers again. Stretching over his chest I press the thin tip into the hole, pressing the button. I wait for the telltale sign of his rebooting but there is nothing. I press it again, holding it before releasing. Nothing. Before I can push it again there is a loud drawn out beep.

"What's happening," Ricky jumps to attention. I don't answer, having the same question myself. Leaning over his body I stare into his eyes, the dim light extinguishing completely. My heart plummets, a cold chill running up my spine.

I jump up, bolting across the shop for my trolley. Ricky stands, asking too many flustered questions as he watches me wheel the trolley over. I grab the jump-started off the middle shelf, slamming it a tad too hard on the floor. Reaching for the two clamps I attached them to Tenna's chest. I look at the machine, ready to turn the knob. Before I can start, I check Ricky, making sure he isn't in danger of being shocked as well.

I turn the knob, a charge running through Tenna. I hold it for a few seconds. Leaning over Tenna I look for his lights, seeing none I try again. I mumble under my breath pleas and prayers. Checking again for a light I truly panic.

"No, no, no," I readjust the clamps on his body," you do not get to do this to me, you damn idiot!" I twist the knob again, asking any higher power for this hunk of junk to start.

"What's going on, is it working," Ricky asks unhelpfully. I ignore him, sitting in my own fear. I twist the knob, antsy as I wait.

It's a harsh few seconds of nothing. My heart feels like it's squeezing, threatening to pop with such force. A litter of please escape my lips as my eyes sting. He can't do this to me, he fucking can't.

"You son of a bitch," I whimper in anger," I do not deserve to find out you love me too and then have you die on me. You damn piece of shit, reboot!"

I twist the knob again, perhaps turning it a tad too hard. His body gives a sudden jolt, convulsing for a moment before he sits upright.

"Motherfucker," he shouts, clenching at his open chest. He tears off the clamps, curling into himself as he shudders. I can't describe the utter joy I feel at hearing him speak. Without much thought I grab him, pulling him into a hug. He tilts into my hold, still shaking and clenching his chest.

I grab his face, turning to me," If you ever scare me like that again I will turn you into a metal scrap cube." before he can answer I smash my lips again his less soft ones. He grunts in surprise, nearly recoiling. I hold him firm, annoyed and overjoyed all at once. Tenna melts into the actions, the hands curled against his chest grabbing at my shirt to tug me closer.

"Aw, that’s sweet," Ricky tease, smacking Tenna on the back of the head," glad you're alright but if you do that shit again I'm turning your scrap cube into a toilet." Tenna parts from me, smiling up at his friend.

"Wouldn't expect anything less," Tenna chuckles.

Ricky nods, rubbing snot on his sleeve," see you at home."

"You're leaving," I ask, watching him head to the door.

"Yea, you two have a lot to talk about. I'll get my words in later when he isn't high off you," he waves dismissively. As Ricky shuts the door behind himself Tenna and I are left in tense silence.

I look to Tenna, happy to see the bright glow in his eyes. He was nearly lost to me, left to be just a piece of fine metal on my floor. I smile at him, he returns the gesture. I then punch him in the chest, wincing at the metal. He winces, curling into himself again.

"Ow, let's not punch the injured man," he snaps. I growl at him.

"Wouldn't be injured if you weren't such an idiot," I snap," Of all the moronic things I know you're capable of, this tops the list. What were you even thinking? You could have been wiped, gone forever at Tenna the robot. Left at factory reset as a blank slate. God, I could kill you right now for being so blasé about hurting yourself!"

"I did what I had to do, ok," he bites back," it's not my fault that it's the only way you would give me the time of day."

I scoff, pushing him away," only time? Excuse me but I don't think you even bother trying a different way. Not once did you stop by for a casual chat or asked me out for some dinner. Hell, I've never even been to your place. I'm not the one in the wrong here just because you're an idiot!"

Tenna groans, starting up a sentence before backing off with a shake of his head. He tries again, falling short once more. In the end, he grabs for me, tugging my reluctant self into a hug. He drops his forehead to my shoulder, holding me sweetly.

"I'm sorry," he says simply," I've been reckless and unrefined ever since I met you. It's not your fault, I'm just a fool who has no idea what he's doing."

I tug him closer, petting at his back," yea, but you are the fool I fell in love with."

He squeezes tighter, rubbing his face against me. Tugging me into his lap we take the silent moment to bask in the glow of just being alive. I'm livid with him, beyond belief am I angry, but I nearly lost him today. That alone is enough for me to just sit in his lap and hold him.

"Do you really love me," he mumbles near my ear. I pet the back of his head, pressing a kiss to him.

"Sadly," I tease. He chuckles, leaning back to look in my eyes. He slants his lips against mine, timid and slow as he does.

"Well, I'm happily in love with you too," he says against my mouth. I tug him in for the next kiss, leisurely licking his lips and cupping the back of his head. We part only for us to rest against the other.

"I'm really sorry though," he nuzzles my head," I feel like a great idiot now."

"Truly the king of idiots, actually," I joke. He smiles, nodding in agreement.

"Can you forgive me," he asks. I nod.

"My biggest flaw is I can never say no to you," I say," it will surely be my undoing."

Tenna smiles big and wide, hands falling down to my hips to tug me close. We kiss like lovesick fools we are, straying off any more words for the enjoyment of just being here. Somehow we make it to the couch where he corners me against himself and the cushion. I fall asleep to him playing with my hair. Before I can succumb to rest I mumble to him.

"Merry Christmas."

He presses a gentle kiss to my head," Merry Christmas, love."

[pollylynn]

Title: Ambition WC: 900 Episode: Knockdown (3 x 13)

He’s not the mystery he’s supposed to be solving. That’s for the best, it seems. He wouldn’t be good at it if the last few months are anything to go by. He has been wildly lacking in the introspection department, even for him.

He’d like to say he’s been drifting along, that the path of least resistance has simply been too attractive. But that wouldn’t stand up in the box. That wouldn’t even stand up to the tap tap tap of a patrol cop’s flashlight on a car window. He hasn’t been drifting. He has been—until very lately—clinging to his relationship with Gina, and under the least aggressive questioning by the greenest of rookies, he’d find himself required to confess that there’s an unsavory Doctor Motorcycle Boy–related motive there. She is with Josh, so he might as well . . .

But might as well is behind him. It’s step in the right direction. It’s one critical thread he’s given a firm tug, but he’s not sure how much closer he is to unraveling the mystery of what it is he’s doing.

He knows what he wants. Even with his talent for keeping secrets from himself, there’s never been much mystery there. In broad strokes, he wants magic. He wants her. But that truth, however fundamental, raises more questions than it answers. He hasn't allowed himself to think about what it means—what it really means to want her. He has drifted on that score. He has kept the simplest, most superficial meaning out of the corner of his eye and simply assumed the inevitable would happen in its own time—she’d be one of his conquests, he’d be one of hers.

He’s paid for drifting like that. He’s missed his chance once, twice, who knows how many times. He’s found himself in exile for a lack of curiosity so profound it shades into sin, apparently. And for all the pain of that, he might still be drifting even now. He wants her. His answer has not exactly evolved, and the universe seems annoyed by that. The universe seems to want to know what he intends to do about it.

So it sends a shot through the plate glass of the diner window. It takes the life of John Raglan and presents him with the horror of that instant when he thinks it’s her blood. The universe sends its messenger in the unlikely form of Martha Rodgers, who tells him it’s time to be honest with himself. It’s not in his wheelhouse. See above, re: introspection.

Is it drifting when he shows up on her shiny new doorstep with a fistful of stall-tactic flowers? He doesn’t know. He could be there to tell her it’s not about the books. He could be there to help her with the case. It could go any one of a number of ways, right up until the moment he hears himself utter the dread name of Josh. He utters the dread name not once, but twice.

It would be nice if that were pure pettiness—if he were simply being smug about who is there and who isn’t, who knows what and who doesn’t. It would almost be comforting, but he thinks it’s a kind of answer to what it means to want her. He thinks the veil is parted, if only for a moment, when he asks, not once, but twice, because he doesn’t want he by halves. He doesn’t want this to be some surrender to impulse, riddled with guilt and doomed to fail.

So invoking the name of Doctor Motorcycle Boy, twice, might be a kind of answer, and still his tongue is tied when the universe escalates and sends her—Kate herself—as a second messenger

She asks why he keeps coming back. She calls him Rick, and he sidesteps. But maybe that’s an answer, too. Maybe it’s a flash of insight that it’s not the universe who has sent her with this burning question, but instead it’s whatever’s lurking in the universe’s basement. Some dark element may know she is spiraling, and her instinct is to push the world away. The question might require an answer she’s in no way ready to hear right now. Wanting her might mean treading carefully.

But the universe seems to think that’s a cop out. The universe has other plans. It snatches up the boys they both love like family, and it’s up to him to come up with a dumb plan. She says she’s up for it. She says she’s game, and he wraps his arm around her. She wraps her arm around him, and when that doesn’t work, desperate times . . .

He kisses her. It’s such an inadequate string of syllables. He kisses her with all the sweetness and passion and longing he’s kept shut up in a part of his heart that seldom sees the light of day. He kisses her and it’s frantic and desperate and life and death. But it’s also a moment of tremendous clarity, calm, certainty..

He wants her. There’s no mystery any longer about what that might mean. He doesn’t know what he’ll do about it. He doesn’t know what he can do. She is with Josh. She is spiraling. But he can be here. He can have her back, Always. He can be careful and patient and anything else she needs. He wants her.

A/N: You know what does not lack morphousness? Castle's desire to have Beckett's Bebes. This story, however—no morphousness.

images via homeofthenutty