#and he just DIDN'T GET IT when we tried explain it to him

[loves0phelia]

hello! hope you’re okay after the ending, honestly I don’t think any of us are.

I wanted to request a rafe x pogue reader where it’s that boat storm scene and instead of Sarah falling it’s reader and she’s just drowning and Rafe jumps in after her. He doesn’t know why he did it but he just has a soft spot for her and it’s just really angsty but also cute.

thanks! I love your account btw!

In The Sea

Summery: the anon

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: grammar mistakes

A\N: thank you to everyone who has been requesting it makes me very happy xxx

You stand at the edge of the deck, clutching the railing as the boat rocks, waves rolling against the hull. The salty breeze whips your hair around your face, and the peaceful ocean sounds made you think about the current situation.

You didn't expect Rafe to save you and your friends from being arrested, much less expect him to find a boat big and resistant enough to drive you all to Morocco Africa to find the blue crown. It was truly a surprise considering you and Rafe's history.

“So what? Are we just on our way to Africa now?” Kiara asked the group as if she couldn't believe that Rafe Cameron was willingly helping them.

“Quick little weekend trip?” She added to her previous sentence.

“What about Rafe? We know what he did to the cross and now we want to go after the crown with him?” You and the rest of the pogue's lips go into a thin line at the memory.

“Sarah, you're his family, how do deal with him” John B said, finding no other options.

“I don't- I don't know, I think maybe y/n might have a chance of convincing him to behave but..” she shrugged and you felt the stares of your friends burn holes through you. Your past relationship with him was a secret to nobody.

“We- we just have to talk to him, or at least try” You proposed earning a frown from JJ.

“Talk to Rafe? When has he ever just communicated with us?” 

“Talking to him is the only option we have, but you're definitely not talking with him,” John B said and as expected everyone nodded and hummed, agreeing. JJ was in no place to talk with Rafe.

“Why not? What did I do?” He asked, getting almost frustrated.

“We all know you and him are far from being civil, the last thing we need is you triggering him and causing trouble” His girlfriend, Kiara, tried to explain the easiest way but he still got defensive. After a couple of bickering from JJ and John b You finally decide to go speak with him, who was driving the boat not too far away from the deck.

“Hey,” You knock on the metal and rusted door before entering and walking up to him. His eyes catch yours and there's a tension between the two of you. But Rafe only tilts his head to acknowledge you.

You swallow, feeling the weight of his stare. "We just want to talk," you say, steadying your voice as the rest of your friends beside JJ follow behind you.

“All right let's talk” Rafe chuckles, and it’s low, almost a whisper. 

Your mind goes almost blank as you take him in, you haven't been this close since you were forced in the same room by Sighs men last year. You had almost forgotten how much you missed him.

“You guys be cool I'll be cool” His voice snapped you out of your daydream, realizing you had missed a bit of the conversation.

“So now you want peace?” Pope leaned back and scoffed, not believing a word that came out of his mouth.

“I just saved all your asses, how about a thank you?” He glanced at all of you one by one, but he only earned silence,

“Listen I don't want any part of your little fairytale treasure hunt bullshit, I'm just looking for Groff” He’s breathing heavily, holding himself back from adding more snark,

“Hey, Rafe!” Before anyone can react, JJ’s fist flies through the air, cracking against Rafe’s jaw with a force that echoes.

Rafe’s head snaps back, his expression stunned for a split second before he crumples, hitting the hard metal floor. For a moment, everyone is frantic, staring at the lifeless form sprawled across the floor, his eyes closed, completely knocked out.

“holy shit”

“Jesus JJ what's your problem”

“Whoo that felt good” Tired of JJ's crazy actions the girls walk away shaking their heads in disbelief until you are the only one staying behind.

JJ stands over him, breathing heavily, the adrenaline still pulsing through him as he looks down at Rafe. His fist is red, already bruising, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“What is wrong with you?” You look at him, feeling a rush of shock mixed with panic. You fall to your knees next to Rafe and quickly look over his injuries, softly rubbing your thumb on his jaw.   “If he didn't do it I was going to do it” Pope added only worsening the situation. You shook your head and furrowed your eyebrows at his sentence.

After the pogues agreed it was probably not a good idea to let Rafe free in case he woke up and decided to shoot you all with his “peacemaker” you tied him up in a small cabin. His head hung low, his wrists were bound to a stainless steel pole and his legs were uncomfortably folded beneath him. Your heart clenched at the sight of him but still decided to leave him there until he woke up.

You open the door to the cabin slowly with a tray of warmed-up canned spaghetti in hand, it wasn't the best but it was all the boat had.

“I brought you food..” You whispered before bending down to place the tray in front of him.

“great” he sighed.

“I found aspirin in the medicine cabinet, I figured you'd have a headache, maybe even a concussion” 

“Right… are you gonna throw it in my mouth like a seal or something” He scoffed again clearly angered,

“They don't trust you Rafe… but if you do the right thing maybe they will open up a little bit”

“I am doing the right thing! I helped you” He tried pulling against the restraints but failed. 

“I know okay? I know but unfortunately, I don't have a choice but to let you in here until we get there, I'm sorry” you whispered and pushed the tray closer to him. “Please eat,” You said and left closing the large door behind you.

For a moment you stayed behind the door listening closely. “Y/N come back!” he grunts and kicks his feet on the ground. “Fucking untie me please!!” he screamed and you jumped when you heard the tray you had just put down on the floor fly into the wall.

Pope leaning over the side, is the first to spot the flicker of movement beneath the water. "Guys! I see one!" exclaims, his voice a mixture of excitement and focus. He scrambles for the fishing rod, almost knocking over the tackle box in his rush.

John B is right beside him, laughing. “We've got our dinner!" he laughs.

“Guys, this one’s huge!” Kie giggles with the boys knowing we were all set for dinner time tonight.

You all spent the rest of the day cooking the fish you caught and preparing side dishes with some good music in the background.

Until it was time for Rafa's second meal.

You open the door carefully and his eyes catch yours, this time you don't speak, simply set the tray of seasoned salmon down in front of him.

Has you were about to close the door you hear him.

“Wait, y/n. Can you please- can you give me the fork” his tone is much softer than before so you can't deny him. 

You get down and pick up the utensil his bound hands couldn’t reach.

“Thank you” He murmured, and you barely heard him as you closed the door behind you once again.

The sky darkens ominously as thunder rumbles in the distance, low and threatening. Waves crash harder against the hull of the boat, tossing it with a force that leaves you gripping onto anything within reach. The storm monitor flashes red to show the storm coming ahead of you.

“That's not good,” John B says.

“We're gonna have to try to blast through it,” Pope says, not finding any better options.

“Why can't we go south?” Kie asks genuinely.

“The current is gonna be against us we don't have a choice” John B agreed even after trying to find safer options, the boat's roar has Pope push the lever controlling the engine to the max. 

The waves make the boat shift side to side making it difficult to stay up and steady.

Another massive wave crashes over the side, drenching them all, and you lose your footing, sliding across the deck until Kie grabs your arm, pulling you back.

“Hold on to something” Kie yells at you pope and Sarah and you all grip onto the nearest thing.

“Hey!” a distant voice echoes through the walls.

“Cut me loose! Y/N! Somebody!” Rafe screamed and banged his fists on the wall.

“Get me out of here!” Everyone listens but doesn't move a finger.

“We have to let him out” You scramble to your feet but jerk back when Cleo grabs your wrist.

“No!” she says trying to stop you but you pulled back.

“He's gonna drown” You pull open rapidly the drawers trying to find something sharp, able to cut the thick ropes wrapped around Rafe's hands.

The storm is relentless, its fury tossing you around like a rag doll as you try to reach him.  

You cling to the railing, struggling to stay upright as the boat lurches violently, nearly sending you sprawling across the floor. Your legs buckle under you. You come crashing through the door and walk onto the water-soaked floor knife in hand.

“Cut me loose” he begs.

Crouching in front of him you began frantically cutting the rope. Your muscles burn with how much pressure you're using.

“Shit,” You say when a sudden jerk of the boat makes your face come inches apart from his, lips almost touching. You don't have time to think as you regain your balance and continue cutting the bounds.

“There! Come on” you yelled and quickly grasped his hands to pull him up from the floor.

You both run to shelter but the boat jerks side to side even more violently,

“Something is wrong I have to go see!” 

“No!” Rafe tried holding on to you but you were already rushing away onto the deck where waves came crashing, a massive wave rose out of the dark, towering over the boat like a shadow.

You barely had time to think before it crashed down, an icy, unforgiving wall of water that slammed into you with the force of a sledgehammer. The impact was too strong and you were thrown backward, landing hard on the deck. Pain explodes through your shoulder, the wind knocks from your lungs. Dazed and gasping, you try to get up, but the boat tips again, and before you can stand, another wave strikes.

This one is worse, merciless, catching you just as you struggle to rise. Your fingers graze the edge of the railing, but the slick metal slips through your grasp. In an instant, the world spins as you are thrown away from the boat, the cold, raging ocean swallowing you whole.

The water is a shock, freezing and chaotic, disorienting you as you plunge beneath the surface. You thrash, fighting to reach the surface, lungs burning, but the waves toss you back and forth, each effort to rise met with another rush of icy water.

Back on the boat, Rafe catches a glimpse of you disappearing over the side, and his heart stops. “Y/N!” he screams, panic cutting through the storm. Without a second thought, he scrambles to the railing, nearly slipping himself as he peers out into the dark, searching for any sign of you.

“Where is she!” Sarah came rushing to her brother

“She fell overboard” he yells already reaching for a rope with the floating boyee. He’s soaked, exhausted, and barely steady, but there’s no hesitation as he jumps in after you.

“Rafe no!” She screams after her brother.

A wave slams into Rafe. “Y/N!!” he yells in the water as he sees you trying to stay above the water far away.

With the last of your strength, You swim faster and harder towards Rafe and reach out when you're near, fingers brushing his arm, grasping it tight. Rafe holds you with everything he has.

“I got you” But you don't hear him in the storm.

You both hold on to each other your arms around his neck and his around your waist as the boat floats away and the night turns into a void.

“Hey, open your eyes, look at me” You feel gentle hands grasping on your face as you finally sit up coughing out the water that filled your lungs.

“That's it” The hands rub your back in a comforting way.

The sand is hot beneath you, warming up your skin, and with exhaustion, you fall onto Rafe's chest.

“Hey you okay?” panicked, he grabs onto your shoulder and pushes you a little bit to take a good look at your face.

“You jumped after me,” you whispered.

“Of course I did”  You look up at him, heart pounding, feeling a rush of gratitude, fear, and something deeper—something that’s been smouldering beneath the surface, unspoken, for far too long. Your eyes shine with tears, not sad and not happy either but grateful. 

His hand reaches up, brushing a strand of wet hair from your face, his fingers lingering against your skin. His touch is warm, and grounding, and you feel your heart racing even faster under his gaze, intense and unreadable, like he’s seeing you for the first time.

Without another thought, you lean in, closing the space between the two of you as you press your lips to his, a spark igniting into a wildfire the moment you connect. Rafe’s surprise melts away instantly, and he kisses back, fierce and unrestrained, his hands finding your waist.

The kiss is charged, fueled by adrenaline, and a longing that neither of you can deny any longer. Your hands find his shoulders, clinging to him, grounding you in his warmth, his strength, the feel of his heartbeat thundering beneath your touch. 

Rafe’s fingers trail up your back, sending shivers along your spine, and his lips move against yours with an urgency that speaks of everything left unspoken.

When you finally pull apart, breathless, Rafe’s forehead rests against yours, his eyes searching yours as he lets out a shaky laugh, almost in disbelief.

“You saved my life” you smile, brushing a thumb over his cheek, still feeling the warmth of his kiss lingering on your lips. “I love you, I've always loved you” you whisper, and before you know it, you're kissing again, the ocean waves crashing nearby, the world forgotten as you lose yourselves in each other.

“I never stopped loving you,” he whispered.

Send request xxx

[screamlet]

08x06 fix-it fic: break and be mended

not connected to that excerpt i posted before, just something completely different. 4.5k, read on the ao3

---

Another hospital room. Buck takes a deep breath and closes his eyes again, letting it out and hoping he gets back to sleep. It doesn't happen, though, because his brain catches up to his eyes:

Maddie, wearing a yellow paper hospital mask, a hand anxiously on her belly, sitting in the chair next to him with that too-familiar oh-thank-god-you're-finally-awake face… and Tommy leaning in the doorway.

He takes another deep breath and opens his eyes again.

"You're okay," Maddie says patiently, slowly, as Buck tries to slam the door shut or set the doorway on fire with his brain. "It's just the turkey flu, it hit you hard."

That breaks Buck's concentration. "Wait, is this a dream? Another coma dream? Turkey flu has to be something I made up."

Maddie raises her eyebrows and looks over her shoulder at Tommy before turning back to Buck. "Another one?"

"No, no, don't look at him," Buck interrupts. "He's not supposed to be here, not when I have turkey flu, not ever. He broke up with me, remember?"

In the doorway, Tommy shifts his weight from one foot to the other. He's wearing the dark blue LAFD t-shirt and pleated pants, a special Air Ops patch on his shirt sleeve. They always lurked under his flight suit, under his turnouts when they were on the same scene, but Buck didn't get to see them often. It was for the best, he thinks now, because the shirt fits perfectly across Tommy's chest and shoulders, the pants belted low. His shirt is tucked in better than Buck's ever is. He almost never got to see him like this so it feels like some new Tommy he's seeing, a Tommy that hangs around Harbor long enough to take off his flight suit but doesn't peel the rest of his work self off. He doesn't get off his shift, put the pilot away, shower and go home.

Buck looks away. He's looked too long.

"I'm actually here, you know." Tommy raps his knuckles on the door like that's proof of anything except a very strong poltergeist. "I can hear you."

Buck watches something that he hasn't seen in years sweep across Maddie's face (mostly her eyebrows, because of the mask).

She turns around and snaps, "I let you come within ten feet of my brother and you think bitchy fun Tommy was invited, too? He was not." Tommy looks shocked and abashed; Buck loves her so much.

"Why was he invited at all, Maddie?" Buck asks. "And you're both real, right? Like I'm not hallucinating both of you. Is that a turkey flu symptom? Can I have my phone? I need to look up turkey flu."

"It's a strain of avian flu, you just happened to get it from a turkey farm. Hen said you had a call to one of those last week," Maddie explains. "And you kept giggling when I said the words turkey flu so, you know, why not?"

"It's pretty funny," Buck admits. "Hey, why's he here?"

Maddie turns around and looks at Tommy expectantly. Buck still knows his face, still knows him, and can see the quip that wants to escape past his lips. He can see the work it takes to hold it back and look sincere, really sincere, for them.

"You collapsed at a scene and I flew you over," Tommy says. "I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Buck stares at him as he presses his lips into a fine line. "I'm okay. Thanks."

Tommy nods, then asks, "Can we talk? Alone?"

It's taken four months, almost as long as they were together, but Buck's finally hearing the words he's wanted to hear since Tommy walked out his door. I'm sorry, I was scared, I love you, yes let's take the next step together, from now on let's take every step together—that was Buck's first choice. Can we talk as a jumping off point for all those other things—that was Buck's second choice. Was.

Buck glances at Maddie and knows his face does something dumb. "I'll be outside," Maddie says. "And I'm not far, if you want me to throw him out." She looks over her shoulder at Tommy. "I'll do it."

Tommy nods. "Wouldn't doubt you for a second."

She squeezes Buck's hand and lingers for a beat, one long look at him like she's waiting for him to say actually, wait, don't, stay, but he doesn't. He hates that he doesn't. He hates that he wants to hear what Tommy has to say.

She and Tommy swap places; he takes the chair next to Buck's bed and she leaves, shutting the door behind her. Tommy doesn't see the way she passes by the window like a shark, watching, but Buck laughs. When Tommy looks back, she's gone.

"Your sister's changed a little," Tommy says casually. "Her sense of humor, I mean."

Buck licks his lips. "Yeah, well, when you were my boyfriend, you were her friend. Now you're neither."

"Yep, got it," Tommy says. He sits back in the chair, but looks so uncomfortable that someone would think he'd never sat in one before.

"Are you okay?" Buck asks. "Why are you here?"

"This chair is so weird."

"Tommy, what do you want to talk about?"

It startles Tommy, and it should. He only got soft and smitten, totally-in-love (even if he couldn't admit it out loud) Evan Buckley, cute and bratty Evan Buckley. He doesn't get that Evan anymore. No one has.

Tommy sits with his feet flat on the floor and his hands folded in his lap. He takes a minute, a long minute, of staring at the floor before he looks up and stares at Buck. "You asked me to move in with you."

Buck blinks. "I did."

"You asked me to move in with you."

"You said that. I mean, I said that, but you—"

"Evan," Tommy interrupts.

"I thought I was Buck now," Buck interrupts.

Bitchiness lurks on Tommy's tongue, but he holds it back. "You asked me to move in with you. Into the loft."

Buck tilts his head. "Yeah?"

Tommy shuts his eyes hard and shakes his head before he looks at Buck again. "Evan, I own a house."

"... okay?"

"Did you ask me to move in with you and expect me to give up my house?"

"What, no—" Buck says, then stops himself. "I don't—I didn't think—"

"Did you even think about that?" Tommy asks. "Like when you talked about moving in together, getting married, the future, all of that—did you even remember that I own a house?"

"You know," Buck interrupts. "Four months ago, you could have said, haha, wow, that's moving pretty fast, also I own a house, maybe when we're ready, we could move into MY HOUSE and make it OUR HOUSE, but you needed to run out the door so why would you say any of that?"

"Yeah! I was freaked out! Because here was this guy I—this guy I really liked, and he asked me, a 40-year-old man, to move into his loft?"

"What's wrong with it? Why do you keep saying it like that?"

"It's downtown! Downtown is loud and filthy and did I mention it's noisy? It was hell sleeping there in the summer because even with your central air, heat rises and it rises right into the bedroom. I saw your electric bill, Evan, it was unforgivable."

Buck wants to throw something at him. "And we could have been at your house, quiet and with better temperature control, but we weren't because…?"

"I'm just saying," Tommy continues. "Yeah, all that's true, but I realized you wanted me, wanted a future with me, and you didn't even remember that when I wasn't working or with you, I was at my house."

"I get that," Buck says. "Now how many times did we hang out at your house?"

Tommy sighs. "It's out of the way, your place was always closer to the 118 and to Harbor, and I kept—I was going to, okay? Like maybe after our anniversary, we'd take a week off together and we'd actually be at my house, or take a trip somewhere—"

"You got me basketball tickets," Buck snipes at him.

Tommy stops completely.

"For our six month anniversary, remember?"

"How the hell am I going to forget that?"

"You got me tickets to see the Lakers. Really good tickets."

Tommy rolls his eyes. "Alright, well, that's the last time I call that guy I know in the press office for anything."

Buck thinks he's getting closer to setting something on fire with his mind. "I hate basketball."

Tommy stares at him. "What the hell are you talking about? We met because of basketball."

Buck sits up so quickly and angrily he starts wheezing and that turns into a coughing fit. Tommy's immediately there, sitting on the edge of his bed with water, getting him to take a small sip as he rubs his back. When Buck realizes what's happening, he covers his mouth with his blanket and shoves Tommy away, coughing even more.

"Sorry, I was just—"

"I have turkey flu!" Buck yells through the blanket covering his mouth.

"The doctor said you're not contagious anymore."

Buck points at a small paper box across the room. Tommy, so put-upon, grabs a pale yellow mask and slips it on before he sits in the chair again. "Sorry."

"It's—" Buck halts because Tommy had grabbed two masks and was holding one out to him expectantly. Tommy motions to it again and Buck can see how he wants to make a bitchy comment about not having this conversation through a hospital blanket, but he doesn't. That's what makes Buck reach out and put the mask on. The icy fist around his heart thinks about melting.

"We didn't meet because of basketball, we met because of Bobby and Athena and the cruise ship," Buck corrects. "I wanted to see you again after that tour at Harbor but I couldn't think of another reason—"

"I gave you the widest of openings," Tommy interrupts. "Hello? Flight lessons? When you finally offered to buy me a beer, I almost dropped to my knees right then and there."

"But you never called me! You're the one who left to hang out with Eddie!"

Tommy throws up his hands. "Ball was in your court! Speaking of basketball."

Buck sighs, exasperated. "We weren't, like, running into each other, I didn't have a reason to call you—don't say the beer—so finally I saw Eddie was going to that pick-up game with you and I dragged Chimney along."

"Right," Tommy says. "And you played basketball with us. We kicked your ass in a way that made me think you were pretending to be bad at it to make me feel good or something? And then there was the whole thing with Eddie's ankle."

"I hate basketball!"

"You brought your own ball!"

"I same-day ordered a basketball so that when I showed up you'd be like, wow, that guy's ready for basketball, what a cool guy!"

"So you're mad that your basketball ruse worked on my dumb ass, and worked so well for six months that I got you Lakers tickets for our anniversary."

Buck's so annoyed that he put it like that. Maybe that's true, but he didn't have to say it. "I don't like basketball! It was a ruse but I didn't hide it after. You watched games with Eddie and I never came along because I don't like basketball."

"You said you wanted us to have our Eddie-Tommy friend time!"

"Why do you make me sound and feel like a five-year-old? Eddie-Tommy friend time? Seriously?"

Tommy folds his hands together like he's in prayer and shuts his eyes. "Okay, listen, I just. I wanted to get the house thing off my chest, alright? Because it's—it's bothered me so much."

Buck could argue about the basketball thing for about another 500 years, except that Tommy has said what he said. "Has it?"

Tommy puts his hands in his lap again, folded politely as he looks at Buck. "I meant what I said. You were so swept away in how new and exciting everything felt, that I felt like you forgot who you were talking to. Like… I'm not a guy who's going to move in with you. I'm a guy who has a house with a home gym and a car lift, and—and the winter was so mild that I put in this little patio space in the backyard. I bought furniture for it. I took this corner of my front lawn, too, and started to plan a pollinator's garden because they sounded really interesting after those three days of bee hell. Evan, I have a house."

"You keep saying that," Buck says. His ears are burning, but he's listening too intently to feel embarrassed about it (much).

"I freaked out, alright? Because I heard: give up your house to live in this downtown loft with a couch that has a faded but GIANT blood and placenta stain on the other side of the cushion, and then the words engaged and married got thrown in there, too? All in the same breath?"

Buck stares flatly, then nods. "Yeah. I get it. Sorry." He clears his throat and grabs his water before Tommy can offer it to him. He takes a sip, looking at Tommy before he nods at the closed door. "Are we done here?"

"And I'm not a gay rights hero," Tommy adds. "You said that, too." Tommy looks away, and looks so miserable. "I'm just a guy, Evan. I've been burned before by younger guys who thought I was everything that their first gay boyfriend should be, and then—and they didn't see who I was. It's always—" Tommy holds out his hands like he's balancing scales. "Not straight enough to fake a life with a woman, not gay enough to have a real life with a man."

Buck hasn't done this in so long that his throat almost aches with it. He sighs, pained and breathless, the word crinkling against the mask: "Tommy." He swallows again and asks, "Did you really think that was me?"

Another long pause. It ends with Tommy saying, "I thought you were too good to be true."

"I'm not, though, I'm—I'm just me," Buck says. "And I did have a lot to figure out, but not about you."

Tommy laughs suddenly. "Really? Because you forgot I was a homeowner and I didn't know you hated basketball. Did you even go to that game?"

Buck coughs. "I gave the tickets to Karen and she took one of her brothers. They're nuts about the Lakers."

"Huh," Tommy says. "Well. I'm not mad about that."

The two of them are quiet until Buck says, "Seems there's a lot of things we don't know about each other."

Tommy glances at him; Buck can see the shape of his smirk beneath the mask, and the very specific way it makes his eyes crinkle. "And just when we thought we knew everything about each other."

"Yeah, I thought that, too, and then you dropped that you were engaged to my first serious girlfriend at our six month anniversary dinner." Buck raises his eyebrows. "Do you land helicopters that smoothly, too?"

"I got you here, didn't I?" Tommy bites back, then catches himself with a laugh. "Okay. Fair point."

It's so easy, it's so easy, it's so easy, it's so easy and Buck hasn't had it easy for months. He hasn't had these quips, this back-and-forth, this person who got him until he didn't, who—Buck rubs at his eyes. Tommy made it easy. He made everything easy. Not perfect, not effortless, but easy. Easier.

"So, uh." Buck fusses with the blanket in his lap. "What have you been doing for the past four months? You, uh…"

"Am I seeing anyone?" Buck nods. "I was, yeah. Didn't last that long."

Buck can't help himself: "Neither did we."

"Ouch." Tommy looks back. "And you?"

"Yeah," Buck says. "I liked them but I broke up with them because it just—it wasn't going anywhere."

"And what's wrong with that? Staying in one place? Isn't that what you wanted for us?"

It's not, but Buck can't articulate it, so he says, "Do you think that's the same?"

A beat, and then Tommy says: "No. No, I don't."

"Tommy," Buck says quietly. "How many people do I have to be with before you decide I've figured it out?"

Tommy's eyes widen. "What? I never said that."

"Tell me what you said, then." Buck swallows painfully, that turkey flu kicking his ass harder than he thought. "Tell me what you meant when you said I didn't know what I wanted. Because I told you what I wanted. I told you I was ready for something and all the things we did together, I thought that you believed me. I guess you didn't, so tell me how many bodies it'll take before you believe me."

Tommy doesn't say anything.

"God, and you know what really sucks?" Buck asks. "That we were together long enough to talk about who we'd been with so we could get tested and be safe. We talked about all that, but I never told you how many times I'd had my heart broken and you never told me yours."

"Three," Tommy eventually says. "Shawn, who was like… all of 25. He was all-in, knowing for sure that the first time was the charm, and I was old enough and steady enough to be That Guy. I believed the hype even though I was barely out of the closet. I shouldn't throw stones at Abby's House of Himbos when I set up my own on the other side of town. And then there was Raúl, my Army buddy who came out to his family and immediately moved to LA to get away from them. Everything felt like a fresh start for him, but… not quite for me."

Buck thinks to ask, but Tommy beats him to it. "Do I need to say the third?" Buck shakes his head. "What about you?"

"Abby, and you." Buck looks at Tommy as he says, "It's not just ending things with someone because it doesn't work. It's heart break. Something's gotta break and be mended."

"I don't think I did that part. You've one-upped me there."

Buck wouldn't have believed that 20 minutes ago, but he believes it now.

"So Bobby's been there, watched me since I was Abby's himbo and helped me to grow into the person who wanted that stuff with you. Once he, kinda, told me that if I care about how people see me, then I haven't learned a damn thing," Buck says. "And that is and isn't true, here. I can't live hoping I meet people's expectations of what they think I should be. I want people—I wanted you—to see me as I am. I thought you did but you didn't, and I didn't either because I didn't see how scared you were. I've made my peace with that. We had something really special and made each other feel really good but, in the end, I guess we were saying all the right things to people we didn't know."

Tommy listens, considers, and nods. "Whole lot of past tense, there."

Buck glances at him and doesn't want to look away, but he does. He doesn't meet Tommy's eyes. He's scared, too. He's done enough today: said a lot of things he's been thinking about for four months and said them very calmly and thoughtfully, but this is gonna hurt. It hurt Buck to realize it and it's gonna hurt Tommy to hear it.

"You got what you wanted, right?" Buck asks. "You got to keep your heart, and I don't feel new and excited anymore." Buck inhales deep; it hurts. "I feel like I did before, like I'm short one piece of being whole. Now the ocean I have to search is so much wider and deeper. So thanks for that, I guess."

"Evan—"

"I let you into my family," Buck interrupts sharply. "Because I cared about you and because you fit. I fit because they're mine and that's my family I made, and you fit there right next to me. With us."

"You're absolutely right."

Buck watches him, tries to see behind the sunshine yellow and white mask on his face, but all he sees are his eyes that, like always, make Buck feel too much, like laser beams disintegrating him.

"Were you really that scared?" Buck can't help the way his voice cracks. "You were that scared of me?"

Tommy looks up again, lasers in place. "I was that in love with you." He shakes his head like he did that last night in the kitchen, and looks up like he'll tip the tears back into his eyes. "And those heartbreaks—you'd leave them light-years behind if I let you. You'd leave me light-years behind."

Buck nods, then says, "Could you leave, please." His wet breathing crinkles grossly in the mask. "Thanks for telling me all this, thanks for the closure, but I don't need to see what someone looks like after they've walked away from me."

"You collapsed at a scene three days ago and I was the closest pilot to medevac you here," Tommy says slowly. "You were delirious and told Shreya, Don't tell Tommy I'm sick, he doesn't care anymore."

Tommy clears his throat. "I do care. I never stopped."

Buck sits back in his hospital bed and pulls the blanket up to his neck, the only comfort he's got right now. "If this is a turkey flu dream, I'm gonna be so pissed at you, real you," Buck says.

Tommy laughs quietly, sadly, then hesitates for a moment. "Can I ask you something? Can I ask you the scariest thing I've ever asked anyone in my entire life?"

Buck doesn't move, doesn't breathe. "What is it?" he finally asks.

"Will you give me a second chance?"

Buck, hearing what he's quietly dreamed of hearing for four months, doesn't feel the euphoria he thought he would. He feels something else, though: a strange kind of wonder that someone wants him again. Again. He swallows hard, feeling the pain right in his turkey-flu-ridden throat. Someone knew him. Someone left him. Someone came back—came back for him.

Tommy left. Tommy came back. Tommy wanted him then. Tommy wants him now. Tommy's wanted him all along.           

Buck asks, "Will you invite me to your place more than once every six months?"

Tommy's half-smile is still wide enough for Buck to see behind the mask. It falls, though, back into something serious. "Will you forgive me when I'm not a paragon of queer virtue?"

"Will you believe me when I tell you I've fucked around and found out enough for a lifetime?"

Tommy raises his eyebrows ever so slightly. "Will you believe me when I tell you I've fucked around and found out enough for a lifetime?"

Buck thinks he smiles a little behind his mask, but it doesn't stay. "Are we gonna break up again?"

"I don't know," Tommy admits. "But maybe next time we can stop each other and hit the brakes. I love romcoms, but maybe we don't do that again: you don't propose fixing a problem with marriage and a baby, and I won't run out the door."

Buck raises his eyebrows, too. "Who said anything about a baby?"

Tommy sputters. "I mean, you were the one raising the stakes before."

Buck laughs. "Right, right."

The quiet stretches out between them. They look at each other and don't look away. The stubborn, proud, cocky side of Buck feels annoyed that this feels like—like he can't get out of this. Like all roads lead back to Tommy, like he doesn't have a choice. Like if he wants to be happy, it's with this person.

A part of him wants to run and throw himself into the hunt again. He wants to thrive in the search for someone who makes him feel that euphoria and fondness and love that he felt with Tommy. He tries to imagine someone else, some vague smoky figure that isn't Tommy's height, Tommy's build, Tommy's arms crossed over his chest and that tilt of his head. The problem is that Buck feels more looking at that furrow and arch of his eyebrows than he's felt for anyone he's met in the past four months, maybe even longer.

Not all roads lead to Tommy—only the ones he wants to take.

"Say it again?" Buck asks.

Tommy nods ever so slightly. "I'm in love with you." He pauses and a smile reaches his eyes. "I love you."

Buck can't help the way his eyes water; neither can Tommy.

"Ask me again," Buck says.

"Will you give me a second chance?"

"Yeah." Buck wonders if his own smile reaches his eyes. He hopes it does. "Yeah. Will you?"

Tommy chokes out a laugh behind his mask. "Yeah, god, of course. Of course. You sure?"

"About you?" Buck asks. "Yeah. I mean, I want to be. Don't make me regret it."

"Don't make me give up my real estate."

"Don't make me go to any sports events."

"Seriously? Not even baseball?"

"God," Buck moans. "The sleepiest one of all."

"Hockey's good."

"You hate the Kings."

Tommy scoffs. "Of course I do. You always hate your local teams—you just hate visiting teams more. Can't let management get comfortable."

Buck attempts to take a deep, exasperated breath, but he forgets that he has the fucking turkey flu. He chokes and starts to cough and wheeze, but Tommy's there again. He freely, lovingly pushes Buck further to the other side of the hospital bed so he can sit and take care of him: water, tissues, hand on his chest to steady him, eyes worried and on him.

"It's not official until you kiss me," Buck says. "I'm not contagious."

"I mean, not with turkey flu," Tommy says. "Your Buckness? That I'm not so sure."

"Don't call me that anymore," Buck says.

Tommy puts his cup of water on the table next to Buck's bed, then shifts so he and Buck are closer, face-to-face, head on looking at each other. "How'd you get even brattier in only four months?"

"How'd you forget I was this bratty?"

"At my age, well, everything's starting to go."

Buck laughs, then coughs and wheezes. "Stop making me laugh."

"How'd you forget I was this funny?"

Buck tilts his head. "I didn't. I didn't forget a thing."

Tommy searches his face, then cups his jaw with one hand. Buck doesn't lean into it, just lets Tommy hold him as he tips Buck's chin up ever so slightly.

Then Tommy kisses his forehead and his birthmark, and wraps his arms around Buck. It's the warmest Buck has felt all winter. It finally feels like spring.

---

read on the ao3

[4linos]

breaking the silence

lee know x gn!reader

synopsis: after an argument that involves several tears and hurtful words, your boyfriend gives you the silent treatment.

wc: 2060 (,,> ᴗ <,,)

You had both had a long and tiring day, but it was the silence that had you awake, not the exhaustion. Since the argument earlier in the evening, there had been an unbearable, uncomfortable silence between you and Minho. Really, it had been a dumb approach. It was a small miscommunication that might have been cleared up in a few minutes. Instead, the words had come out of your lips quickly and harshly before you had a chance to think about them, and Minho had snapped, his face tensing in anger. You tried to explain and apologize right away, but he didn't listen. He had turned away without even looking at you, which was an obvious sign that he didn't want to speak with you.

Hours had gone by now, and the tension in the room was intolerable. Your pulse is racing and the knot of anxiety in your chest is getting tighter as you lie in bed and stare at the ceiling. Half expecting him to be there, you reached to his side of the bed, but the room was cold and empty. He was still on the couch. After a moment of hesitation during which you bit your lip, you got up and walked quietly into the living room. With his back to you, Minho sat on the couch and watched the TV without paying much attention. The distance between you two felt like an entire ocean, and his shoulders were stiff.

"Minho," you said softly, your voice tentative. “Please… can we talk?” He didn't answer. The ensuing silence was suffocating. As you waited with your heart pounding faster, he stayed motionless with his back to you and refusing to acknowledge you. In an attempt to calm yourself, you swallowed. "I’m sorry Minho. I didn't mean to upset you. "Look at me, please." Nothing. He didn't appear to have heard you at all. It felt almost like a physical barrier because of how heavy the silence was between you two. You tried "Minho…" once more, your voice hardly audible above a whisper, the words suddenly desperate. "I really apologize. Talk to me, please.”

Still nothing.

A part of you wanted to turn away, to give him the space he so obviously needed, to leave him alone. The other side of you, however, couldn't take it. You felt the weight of the unsaid words weighing down on your chest as the silence tore into you. You felt as though the silence was choking you. Gently resting your trembling hand on the back of the couch, you were almost touching him, but not quite. "Please, Minho. I don’t want to lose you. When you act like this, I'm not sure what to do.” You thought he may finally say something as his shoulders stiffened. But the words that came out of his mouth were quiet, icy, and far away.

Without even looking at you, he murmured, "I don't want to talk right now." His voice was flat, with a hint of concealed rage boiling beneath. The words hurt more than you thought they would. Tears threatened to spill out of your throat, but you fought them back. "Minho, I'm at a loss for what to do. I hate this. I hate the way you're ignoring me. Tell me what's wrong, please.” When his head finally turned, you could see that his eyes were filled with a mixture of hurt, frustration, and possibly a hint of disappointment.

He repeated, "I don't want to talk about it," this time with more firmness and a clenched jaw that made it clear he wasn't going to back down. "I don't feel like doing this at the moment. Leave me alone, please. It felt like a face-slap. Your breath caught in your throat as the hurt of his words sunk deep in your chest. You felt so tiny and unimportant all of a sudden, and the pain was unbearable. You said, your voice a mixture of despair and irritation, "You've been like this all night." "Will you please just let me in? Why are you afraid to just speak to me?”

After a while, Minho straightened his posture and kept his gaze fixed on the ground. "You don't understand, do you?" The bitterness in his voice pierced you like a knife, even though it was quieter now. "You're constantly trying to fix things and restore everything, but sometimes I simply need space. I don't require fixing. I don't need to hear your apologies again. All I need is time.” The tears you were suppressing burned in your eyes. "Minho, I'm not trying to fix you. I'm just… All I want to do is put things right. When you refuse to communicate with me, I'm at a loss on what to do. When you cut me off in this way...”

When his eyes finally met yours, he ran a hand through his hair in irritation, yet there was something cold about them that made your stomach churn. "It's not always your turn to fix things. I need time to reflect sometimes. I need you to leave me alone sometimes.” Your chest tightened under the weight of everything you were suppressing, and the intensity of his remarks caused your heart to shatter. He had never been this detached, so angry, and so unwilling to compromise with you. It seemed like he was getting farther away each time you attempted to close the distance.

You said, "I'm sorry," once more, your voice cracking under the pressure of everything. "Minho, I have no idea how to go about this. All I want is to comprehend. Please don't ignore me. He stayed silent for a long time, and the emptiness between you two felt like an endless ocean that you were unsure how to cross. Then he spoke again, softer but still unpleasant, in a voice that was hardly more than a whisper. He murmured, "I'm not trying to hurt you," as his eyes briefly met yours before averting them. “But, I'm not sure how to deal with this either. Right now, I'm not sure how to deal with *us*.”

You were left whirling by his quiet, raw words. Even though you were drowning in your own pain, you could sense it seeping from him. Your heart thumping in your chest, you took a step closer. "Please, Minho... I am not planning on leaving. Just don't ignore me. Together, we might resolve this.” He remained silent for quite some time. However, you stayed put. You stayed there, both of you trapped in the limbo of suffering and annoyance, close yet still far away. His hand hesitated as though it would have reached for you, but he stopped.

He sighed at last, his breath trembling, the weight of everything between you two bearing down on him. He made a tiny move, brushing your palm with his, but it was the most subdued apology he could offer. His voice was almost heard, but he was sincere when he said, "I'm sorry." "I just want some time. I'll talk with you when I'm ready. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat as you nodded. "All right. I'll hold off. Just don't be silent for too long. Minho didn't respond, but you could tell he hadn't actually cut you off—at least not entirely—by the glint of remorse in his eyes. Not forever.

Even if it passed for the time being, the silence between you lingered, serving as a reminder that sometimes the quiet that followed a fight was just as difficult.

—

It seemed like there had been no end to the silence between you and Minho. For days, the room felt heavy, and you both cautiously avoided each other, not knowing how to heal the rift that had developed. However, time was doing its silent magic, and gradually the barriers you had put up between each other started to come down.

It started with the small things.

You noticed that Minho was beginning to leave small signs of himself where he typically didn't. His jacket was carelessly placed on the chair's back, as though he had decided it didn't need to be neatly folded. His shoes kicked off at the door in a hurry, a sign that he was starting to feel like his own home again. Nevertheless, things didn't start to change until you were in the kitchen making coffee one morning. Minho came into the room quietly, his hair a little disheveled from sleep, and he was still dressed in pajama trousers. For a long time, he watched you from the doorframe, his face unreadable.

Although you both understood that the silence between you wouldn't last forever, you kept silent at first. You just continued doing what you were doing because you had to take the initiative and didn't want to push him. He apologized in a low, reluctant voice that sounded almost like he was trying things out. His eyes were on the floor, not looking into your eyes, and his hands were in his pockets. "For everything."

Your heart skipped a beat as you froze. It was there. The first break in the silence: the words you've been waiting for. The weight of all that had been left unsaid made your chest tighten as you turned to face him. You started to say, "Minho," but your voice trailed off as your throat filled with emotion. When he finally looked into your eyes, his face softened and he took a step forward. "I should have spoken to you. "I shouldn't have pushed you away like that," he added in a remorseful tone. "I simply... I shut you out rather than letting you in because I didn't know how to deal with anything.”

You gave a small shake of your head, not because you didn't comprehend, but rather because the pain and suffering of those silent days remained present. You tried to control your emotions as you whispered, "I know you needed space, Minho." But when you refused to communicate with me, I was at a loss on how to make things better. I was really lost. He took tentative but resolute steps toward you. Almost whispering, he replied, "I don't want you to feel lost." "I apologize for making you feel that way. I just want you to understand that it wasn't about you. I was the one. I've honestly been overwhelmed.

The pain in your chest slowly begins to ease as you finally release a breath you were unaware you were holding. "I get it, Minho. Yes, I do. But if you don't let me in, I can't support. At that moment, he extended his hand and lightly touched yours. The tender touch served as a reminder that you were still there for one another despite the stillness. "I'll try," he answered in a quiet but genuine tone. "I swear. I'll let you in more. I don't want to isolate you again.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, not from sadness, but from the relief of hearing him say it. For the first time in days, you put your arms around him and pulled him into a tight hug as you moved closer, your heart overflowing with emotion. After a moment of hesitation, Minho wrapped his arms around you and held you tight, allowing you to both feel as though the burden of the last few days had been lifted. It was a subtle acknowledgment of guilt and a subconscious understanding that although things weren't flawless, they could still be fixed.

You muttered, "I'm here, Minho," against his chest. "I'm not leaving either." His voice was muffled as he talked into your hair, holding you closer. “I know. I’m sorry for making you feel like you didn’t matter. You do. You always have.”

Even though there was still some tension, hurt, and stillness, it didn't matter just now. The important thing was that you were both prepared to start over and, no matter how long it took, find your way back to one another.

Minho then said, "Let's take it slow," while planting a gentle kiss on your forehead and wearing the smallest of smiles. “But let's do it together.”

From then on, you were aware that you would deal with any challenges together; there would be no more silence, only love, understanding, and patience.

—

nini’s notes 111124

hi everyone! this is my first full length fic & it’s angst! i personally lovee reading angst so i thought i’d try it out, i hope you enjoy & don’t forget to leave any feedback that you may have 🤗🫶

asks are always open if you have a question, concern, or request!

-🎀

[dudethatsmyundeaduncle]

HERE IS WHY VIKTOR WALKED AWAY FROM JAYCE AFTER HE SAVED HIM AND WHY WE DIDN'T GET A DRAWN OUT DIVORCE!

(spoilers. Duh.)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

short answer: It's because Viktor's dead.

Long answer:

So Arcane is all about people changing right? The first season was rife with the idea that if you want to become who you're meant to be you have to kill off your old self. (I'm paraphrasing here, and poorly, just REMEBER jinx's arc throughout the first SZN ok, powder had to die for jinx to live.)

In the show so far, we know arcane takes the idea of this change and charcter "death" very seriously. Ergo in that opening scene of s2e1 when Jayce sees Viktor crushed under the rubble and barely breathing Viktor is, for all the show's intents and purposes, dead.

This is where you may be shouting, NO BUT JAYCE RESSURECTED HIM! and listen I agree with you, Jayce physically resurrected Viktor, yes, but what came out of that cocoon is not Viktor. Lemme explain.

Arcane doesn't do ressurection, period, the show is about dying and changing, nobody stays the same, and if you die you come back different, unrecognizable even. (Jinx, Silco, Vander as Warwick) Singed is the only character who tries to keep things the same, preserve them, and those thing he has preserved have either been changed spectacularly anyway (jinx, Warwick/Vander) or they are Inert (Rio).

So when Jayce lays Viktor down on the lab table and he's all rekt, he is dead, like even if he's breathing Viktor is functionally dead, with no magical or medical intervention he will die/has died. (I have a bone to pick here a bit with the fact that Jayce didn't take him to a hospital. Maybe it was because of the glowy appendages but I doubt it. Which leads me to assume that Viktor's injuries were beyond medical treatment meaning, once again, that he's basically dead. )

Ergo when Jayce explicitly goes against Viktor's wishes to destroy the hexcore and instead fuses it into Viktor. What comes out of that cocoon isn't Viktor anymore.

Viktor says it himself when he walks out of the cocoon he asks " what am I?" And he says something like " I died/I should be dead." While it's subtle I think we, the audience, are meant to take this very LITTERALLY.

Even while Jayce is exclaiming that he" is alive" Viktor is very sure that he isn't, that he's dead and changed. (Hella bummed he didn't get a pretty arc for this change but I guess theyre counting S1 as his arc? Anyway)

There is very important moment I want to draw your attention to here, when Jayce embraces Viktor, in joy, and Viktor slowly returns the embrace one armed and leans into Jayce, he doesn't close his eyes. (I know this sounds crazy bare with me) What I'm positing here is that this is the first inkling that Viktor is gone because he doesn't accept what Jayce is telling/giving him.

Essentially in that reunion scene, imma call it a reunion, Jayce is giving Viktor everything he wanted, their dream, their partnership, Jayce's love and attention. (don't argue with me on this Viktor is s1 wanted both even it was unsaid) And Viktor refuses all of it, he doesn't accept Jayce's affection, he doesn't close his eyes when they embrace! closing his eyes, sinking into that hug would have been acceptance, it would have been the moment that Viktor, actual Viktor, had been waiting for. (and boy had he been waiting).

But what walked/crawled/clawed their way out of that cocoon isn't Viktor. Instead it's Viktor's body and whatever impression of Viktor, or maybe parts of his soul, he gave up/lost to the Hexcore.

I think the hexcore has, very litterally, become Viktor, like Jayce basically sacrificed Viktor's body to give the thing life and now it's wearing Viktor's face and has these remnants of his memories. I believe this because it also has Skye's voice!

The hexcore didn't have a voice before, it was like a weird murmuring hum, and Viktor couldn't understand it. But now whatever parts are left of Viktor and Skye have amalgamated into the hexcore and their good intentions/idealism are functioning to guide this newly born hexcore/machine herald. (That would explain why it leaves Jayce, it has the memories of Viktor's love but not the actual emotion, it would explain why it returns to the undercity, because it has memories of that place as "home" from both Vik and Skye, and it would also explain why the MH will eventually wear a mask, because it's not Viktor, it just has his face.)

So it makes sense when the machine herald leaves Jayce after that confession and offer, because it's not Viktor anymore. Viktor is dead and Jayce failed to save him.

Anyway, hope that cleared it up for you, of course THIS IS JUST A THEORY! AN ARCANE THEORY (I couldn't help myself)

A/N, this explanation isnt meant to, like, invalidate any complaints that the Divorce arc was too rushed/fast/thrown aside. Because in a lot of ways I think it was!

This also isn't to say that this explanation I give above is the perferred way to tell Viktor's story! Because I don't think it was! In many ways by killing Viktor and making him like, the human conduit for the hexcore, they have taken away 99% of Viktor's autonomy as a character. His choices are no longer his own, his actions are tainted by this corrupting force, he (if he is even alive) no longer is himself. This victimizes Viktor in a way I don't love but also draws away from his very valid and real pain and anger.

In the machine herald lore in LoL we have these ideas of transhumanism, self reinvention, and at its core, a guy who, pushed to his limits, turned his back on Pilotover and let his own hubris lead him to committing atrocious acts.

In LoL, Viktor becomes a monster, he chooses to be the machine herald, he meticulously replaces/removes parts of himself so he can become closer and closer to what he views as the " perfect machine". His glorious evolution surrounds this idea, that humanity is inherently weak and that the only way to overcome that weakness is to surrender to the machine, to evolve.

Arcane Viktor is not getting this Arc, whatever way they try to twist the magic they gave him he's not going to get this level of revenge or autonomy, he just isn't. His purpose is likely not going to be anywhere near as strong because like I said up top Viktor's a dead man. And he isn't getting to make choices anymore.

I'll end this post here before it gets unbearably long but feel free to pop off in the reblogs, tags, and comments lads!

Love Arcane too bits and can't wait for Act 2! JAYVIK NATION RISE!

[littlemissadams]

Danny hated this. Really, truely, in the depths of his soul hated every single thing about this situation.

Here he was, in his pyjamas, being carted across the city by fucking Nightwing to play Emotional Support Person to the man's murderous Crime Lord-turned-Vigilante brother.

Sure, he got that emotional regulation was difficult for Revenants, especially when their death hadn't been properly avenged, but there were better alternatives than kidnapping! Danny had even suggested a few, all of which were soundly ignored in favor of dragging Danny away from whatever he happened to be doing and into some very uncomfortable situations to calm Red Hood down before he killed someone.

Again.

He expected to be dropped in a warehouse filled with unconcious goons, or an alleyway with some kind of mexican standoff happening between Red Hood and one of the other Bats. Except it seemed that they were going off script tonight when he was hauled through the window of Some Dudes apartment.

Oh.

Oh Shit.

There was a man being restrained by the big Bat himself that was 100% an unmasked Red Hood.

What the fuck were these people thinking?

Danny supposed that didn't really matter right now. He was expected to calm this guy down and he really didn't want to find out what would happen if he refused.

So Danny double checked that every emotion that wasn't calmsafesecure was buried deep down and locked away and went over.

"Hey, big guy. It's okay. You're alright." The man struggled against Batman's hold, his glowing eyes darting around, a low steady growl coming from him. "Someone want to tell me what happened?"

"Scarecrow." Mr. I-Am-Vengance ground out, narrowly dodging a headbutt. And, ok that explained a tiny bit about the situation, but not nearly enough.

"A new strain." The OG Boy Wonder spoke up. "It's having a weird reaction with his... unique biology. We've tried to get him to the Cave, but every time we do, he goes nuts."

"And what, you want me to... corrall him? Into cooperating with you?"

"Uh, yeah, please?"

Now they ask nicely.

"Ok. Let 'em go."

"Are you sure that's-"

"Yes." No, Danny's not sure. In fact It seems like a terrible idea. But he doesn't get to dwell on it anymore as he finds himself in the crushing embrace of a Revenant hopped up on whatever unholy concotion Dr Crane decided to unleash this time.

He cautiously ran a hand through Hood's black and white hair, projecting calmcalmcalm as thoroughly as he could.

Eventually the low growl stops and a gentle purr starts.

"Ok, big guy. We're gonna go on a little trip now, alright." Danny started moving to where Nightwing and Batman were waiting by the open window. Mr. Anger-Management-Issues followed with very little complaint, and mostly just clung to Danny like a baby koala.

Danny sighed and climbed out the window, resigned once again to spending the night curled up in a strange place and being used like a living teddy bear.

For some reason, Danny’s presence calms Red Hood’s Rages. Not fully curing it, but dampening the effects significantly. People have noticed this fact, and thus have taken to dragging him to over to the vigilante/crime lord whenever he has an episode.

As a result of their repeated interactions, Jason thinks he might be developing feelings for Danny. Even if the context of their meetings is… not ideal, he enjoys their time together and hopes the other man does too.

Danny does not. He hates that people keep interrupting his life, kidnapping him to act as a pacifier for a murderous vigilante.

[ivys-garden]

Life Series Session Recap and Alliance Analysis

Pearl opens her episode clarifying she and Impulse did nothing wrong. Finally I don't have to write “get over double life, tumblr” every week.

Yes, another Saturday means another instalment of the Life Series. This session was far more chill and slow paced than last weeks, ironic considering that this week's Wild Card was a perpetual speed increase! Going from a complete time freeze to full hyperspeed. Naturally, this led to about a 7.5 on the madness scale, so let's see what those teams were up to.

The Final Girls - (Scott, Cleo, Pearl, Impulse & Bigb (not anymore ;3 ))

On the topic of Pearl and Impulse, Cleo decides that they will fully enable all of they're future actions. Yes, she might sigh when they talk about all the evil stuff they're going to do, but she's fully on board.

Right about now Scott is probably regretting being team mum for three chaos gremlins as he's already had to instruct them not to give Gem any more reasons to kill them & had to break up the fight that was issued once they all went Matrix mode.

Speaking of Gem & Joel, a new development in the great drama sees Impulse explain himself and apologise to Gem. She doesn't buy it but it's the thought that counts. During this apology Pearl, the attack dog, is ordered by Gem and Impulse to slaughter grian. So while Cleo and Scott go off to make friends, Impulse and Pearl pop over to Rens for some very serious murder discussion, with an eventual “let's murder Grian” party forming consisting of Pearl, Impulse, Ren, Martyn, Bigb, Scar & Jimmy. If even a fraction of these people stick to this next session Grian is pretty firmly doomed.

In other news Scott manages to make allies with the Bamboozelers through several means, including staring at Jimmy's ass. Cleo & Impulse have a little caving adventure and Impy manages to make a working Creeper farm that they may or may not be sharing with Renwood. This leaves Pearl once again building the tower, which is good since she has arguably to much experience in that

While building the tower we get more Drama! Grian and Mumbo managed to get a quick kill on Scott early on the session by digging a big pit under the tower and spleefing him in. Mumbo and Skizz later come back to this trap only to be discovered by Pearl. The Suits try to get her to lure Scott over, but Pearl is far to loyal for that…. But not loyal enough to kick them out, reasoning that it would be really funny if it happened twice. On top of this she negotiated the ability to kill grian without them stepping in, very useful given her current plans & the second spleefing doesn't work anyways, so no harm no foul.

No one would actually agree to luring their team to their Death intentionally… right Bigb?

I'd say I'm surprised, but I'm not. He's worked again every team he's been in except Nosey Neighbours. I guess the “B” must stand for “Betrayal”

Bigb pulls the same thing Pearl did only not under the pretence of a joke, when Grian is around to actually make sure his team gets the kill, actually agreeing to lure Scott and doing it INFRONT OF CLEO. This being the second time this has helped to them, Cleo immediately goes off to find Scott to warn him about the traitor…Scott still falls into the trap anyway but that was a skill issue on his part. Bigb actually tries later to gaslight Scott into thinking that he didn't mean to betray the team, which almost worked until he started saying Cleo was the traitor, which obviously Scott would never buy. Oh he also did this in earshot of Cleo so she set her attack dog (Pearl) on him.

Bigb also later betrays the “Let's Kill Grian Gang” and warns Grian about the plan to murderficate him. I guess someone hasn't gotten over Double Life after all.

The Fast And The Furious - (Joel & Gem)

Actually, the fast and the paranoid might be more accurate as while Joel is just off having a grand old time prattling speed bridging, Gem is terrified that everyone is out to get her and doesn't seem to understand that putting your base on the main path means more people will come visit.

Aside from sending everyone they can to kill Grian and disregarding Impulses genuine apology, the team due doesn't really do much themselves

Gem was officially the last person to lose a life though, with no less than 4 people, including 2 greens, having to help kill her.

Also Joel added racing stripes to the car and… it actually made it a lot less hideous, well done Joel.

The Bamboozelers - (Jimmy, Scar & Lizzie)

Jimmy has regained the title as most confident member of this team…scarily confident in fact, just this session he was able to steal a potential kill from Skizz & kill his teammates, get another good kill on Joel using Lizzie as bait, managing to turn his relationship with Joel around to become allies and reaffirming his alliance with Renwood. Honesty 100 IQ plays from Tim all around.

He did die once this session, but that wasn't his fault and was also incredibly funny to watch Martyn bimbo his way through traps made for Bigb and accidentally kill Timmy. Great job everyone.

Speaking of failed traps… oh Scar… he started of strong, absolutely annihilating Etho in slow motion and living up to the villain he shares a name with by tossing him off a cliff, but after that every single attempt to trap someone fails miserably and he's forced into a cheap kill on Grian that results in him calling for vengeance… wouldn't be to worried about that tho considering Skizz and Mumbo's track record.

The Spanners - (Mumbo, Skizz & Grian)

How are these idiots not dead yet.

They get one (1) successful kill this session, spleefin’ Scott. A trap Mumbo tries his luck with several times after this despite knowing the Final Girls already knew about it.

Skizz gets no kills despite Grians efforts. An attempt to build a super TNT minecart launcher is made… on Scars mountain… and Grian spends several.minutes explaining to his worst enemies how the trap works… and then he and Mumbo stand directly under where they know the TNT will land. Yeah obviously Jimmy sneaks in and pulls the lever to kill them.

A second attempt to launch TNT is made, but this launcher is pathetic and ends up being turned into a party game. oh, and then Grian gets hotguyed by Scar. Grian immediately screams vengeance and blows up the reputation board, ranting about how little it meant since he was in good favour… which only proved he never read the damn thing but it's the thought that counts.

In their last hoorah for this session the team goes on a proper hunt The Bamboozelers as they hide in Joel's car. Mumbo sneaks up to pure lava on them… and burns himself to death. He then tries to hypersonic pvp Gem and you can guess how that went. He then joins in trapping Gwm in a big hole and burning her, only for the kill to go to Ren anyway.

These guys are Doomed. Especially because Final Girls & The Family are allied with Scar & The fact that Renwood actively wants to murder them.

Predictions: Grian goes Yellow next session, Mumbo goes out-out and Skizz is somehow still Red.

Renwood - (Ren & Martyn)

We actually covered everything these guys did already, The Grian Murder Crew, Martyn being a trap bimbo, Ren allying with Impulse to make up for beheading him, really the only thing we haven't discussed is Martyns strange choice to make the first 5 minutes of his episode unlistenable

The Tuff Guys - (Etho, Tango & Bdubs

Etho finally admits they're the comic relief. Like any good comic relief, these three stooges spend the entire session failing at everything. Tango fails on the same trap 3 times. Bdubs almost kills himself in said trap. There's more fights and bickerings than you could count on 15 hands and a toe

Oh also Tango also perma-died to Pearl after going invis and being pumped full of arrows.

Honestly it's not a question of if someone dies next session, it's a question of who.

[poppadom0912]

☕️🧊 with Jay and reader. She has a child from someone else who goes missing. Thank you sm!!!!

A/N: Thank you so much for ordering! This got a little bit long for a Drabble but I hope you enjoy!!

☕️🧊☕️🧊☕️

"Y/N, we gotta go." Jay stuck his head out the gate, motioning for you to get inside where everyone was getting ready for the drug bust.

Before you could reply, Jay's eyes caught the little body sitting on your hip, your arms supporting her when she squeezed you harder, not wanting you to go.

"Tell Voight two minutes." You said, nearly pleading to your partner. This bust was very important but what use were you if you couldn't even be there.

"I'll be back soon okay? Five minutes." You lied to your four-year-old. Realistically, you'd be an hour but she didn't fully understand the concept of time.

Looking around the front desk, you found no one you were familiar with. Trudy had disappeared into thin air and the other officers you felt like you couldn't leave Emma with, neither would she want to stay with them.

"Roman!" You called for the officer who you suddenly found. His body stiffened, automatically concluding he was in trouble but when he found you, he relaxed.

"We're going to do a drug bust." You mouthed the last two words. "You mind keeping an eye on Emma?"

Roman didn't turn you down because not only would he get in trouble for doing so, but he really didn't mind looking after her. "Sure, that's fine."

"Be good for Roman, okay?" You kissed her head, detaching her arms and legs from around you. "Come on baby, mommy has to go to work."

Your daughter shook her head in your neck, snuggling herself closer so that not even oxygen was separating you two causing you to sigh in defeat.

"Y/N." Jay appeared again, all geared up in his vest hiding his gun from the view of the front desk. "We have to go."

"Mommy loves you." You kissed her again, forcing her off you and into Sean's arms where she started to cry for you but no matter how much guilt you felt for leaving, you had to.

Sighing in defeat, you rushed up the stairs, mumbling apologies while you quickly got yourself ready. You thanked Jay for the loaded gun he gave you, double checking you were good before slamming the passenger door shut.

"She's been so clingy lately." You commented, pulling your hair into a ponytail. "I have no idea why."

"Maybe it’s like a teenage mood swing type of thing." Jay proposed, shrugging his shoulders, glancing over at you before looking back at the road. “Will mentioned Owen getting weird like that at her age.”

You hummed, not totally convinced with the idea.

☕️🧊☕️🧊☕️

Everyone was laughing, high fiving each other, celebrating the successful drug bust that was filled with adrenaline that was still pumping through your veins when you got back to the precinct.

Walking back into the bullpen, letting your hair out, you were ready to relax but was immediately reminded that you brought Emma with you and she was waiting for you downstairs.

Just as you got up from your chair to go downstairs, the gate was shut and Sean took his time in coming up the stairs, looking everywhere but at you.

"Roman." You called for the officer who was by himself. "Where's Emma?"

Your question caught everyone's attention, all of them stopping what they were doing to look at the two of you, wary of the distance you tried to keep.

“Roman, where’s my baby?” Your voice broke as you mentioned your little girl who was nowhere to be seen.

“Roman.” You stressed, striding towards him, such power in your stride that Kevin and Antonio had to step between you two in fear of what you were going to do. “Where. Is. My. Daughter?!”

“Detective.” His voice shook and that’s when it all properly sank in. “Please let me explain.”

You were seeing red. The light of your life, the only one who matter more than life itself, was gone.

“Roman you have five seconds to get out her sight.” Jay interjected, his hand curling around your bicep, to offer stability or hold you back you weren’t sure.

The world as you knew it, was collapsing around you.

Your baby was gone and not even Jay couldn’t put a stop to your pain.

[blu3-ja3]

What is a mother without violence? Without scorn or ire, hatred or venom? What is a mother who can't protect her young? In nature it's known to never mess with a mother bear when she has cubs, a wolf with her pups, or heifer with her calf. We do not fault a magpie for protecting her nest nor a goose for chasing away children from her nest. For what is a mother without vengeance?

Maevis O'Connor isn't a violent woman, acting first with care and kindness. Even towards the hardest of soldiers on base, always a gentle hand and soft voice. She treats these soldiers, these men who have killed hundreds with precision, with such love. She's forgiving almost to a fault, even when they do the same stupid maneuvers over and over again. Rushing head long into dangerous situations. She forgives them and helps them. So when the 141 has to interact with Graves again after Las Almas they were expecting Doc to be the one holding the peace.

Instead Ghost has to grab the second captain and pull her away. As soon as the man appeared in the intelligence tent she lunged towards him ready to murder, almost grabbing him. But Ghost was quick to react, Roach, Gaz, and Soap were stunned and Captain Price moved to hold O'Connor's shoulder.

"Why the hell is he here?" There's venom in her voice, like she plans to kill the man if she was let go of. She was asking towards Laswell but never once took her eyes from Graves. Even as Laswell explained the same stupid shit to her, because a soldier can't be tried as a war criminal if he was given an order from his superior to do so.

"I was just following my orders Captain, surely you understand?" And Soap is the one to react getting right into the man's face breathing heavily with rage in his eyes "Just give me the order Doc, I'll show him what following orders looks like," but Price puts a hand on his shoulder and pulls him away.

It takes a bit for them to get through the briefing with Laswell, even longer to get into gear and onto the boeing. O'Connor just stares daggers into Graves, even as she holds conversation with Soap about him possibly designing her next tattoo to finish her sleeve.

When the mission progresses she's distant and rude towards him but subtly, if you didn't know better it would seem O'Conner was back to her kind-hearted self, but there was subtlety to her venom. It was more so what she didn't do than what she did do, always checking in with the team by name but never checking in with Graves always forcing him give updates on his own.

The mission goes well, only minor scrapes and the worst is a bruise on Gaz from tumbling down a hill while making their way towards extraction. Doc takes care of everyone but never once moving towards Graves, only tossing him a bandage to cover the cut on his cheek.

"Thanks Doc for all the help! Doing a wonder-," Graves voice drips with sarcasm before he's cut off as O'Connor wheels on him. She's right in his face towering over the man forcing him to look up to her, she's only a few inches shorter than Ghost.

"You can make do with what I give you. You're a big boy so deal with it, unless you want me to give you a proper wound for me to tend to? No? Then handle your shit yourself Graves. And never call me Doc, it's either Doctor O'Connor or Captain O'Connor understood boy." O'Connor is quiet but it's even more quiet around them so everyone can hear O'Conner over the comms.

She sits down next to Roach and goes about checking his cuts and scrapes, cleaning and tending to them with sure care it nearly gives everyone whiplash.

They land and tell Laswell about the details of the operation and what they recovered. They're given to go ahead and are dismissed to go back to home base. As soon as everyone is out of the tent there's a loud crack as Ghost rounds on Graves throwing punch, hard and fast, to the man's face. Three more to his stomach and gut, each punch punctuated by Ghosts voice.

CRACK! "For Las Almas"

CRACK! "For Alejandro and his men"

CRACK! "For shooting Johnny"

CRACK! "For shooting me"

No one moves to stop Ghost nor to grab Graves as he drops to his knees, face already swelling and spit out some blood and possibly a tooth.

"Captain Price I'll meet you at the yard at 0600 for punishment due to insubordination" Ghost rumbles, satisfaction evident in his voice.

"No need, I'm sure cleaning the mess hall and kitchen with the staff will be plenty of punishment enough... Maevis you may want to check on Graves, he might need some assistance." Price said walking away from the tent.

"Eh the bastards fine, just ice it and don't talk for a day. You'll be doing everyone a favor," She smiles and waves her hand walking off with the rest of 141.

Once back on base O'Connor pulled Ghost and Soap into a hug, saying she's proud of them for not putting the man down like a rabid animal despite how much they probably wanted to. Ghost does end up cleaning the mess and kitchen but with Soap's help.

Roach is the one to approach Doc after dinner, she's in her office reorganizing her many pouches and her main pack.

"Captain? You okay? You seemed pretty angry today, don't think we've seen you so pissed. Not even when you were mad at the Lieutenant," he spoke fast and trailing off, like if he didn't say it all at once she'd send him out.

O'Connor turns to the boy, just holding eye contact with him for a minute before speaking, "You are all my boys and I don't like when you get hurt. I especially don't like when that hurt causes you to wake from terrors in the night. And if there's a person who can be blamed for that hurt I will make their life a living hell." She pauses before saying "I'm sorry if I scared you boys I'll do my best to not get that angry again..."

"No need for that Doc, we were just shocked is all ma'am" Gaz says from behind Roach "It's not often we get to see the Bloody part of Bloody Mother Hen," there's a smile and chuckles from the joke.

For what is a Mother without furry towards those who hurt her young?

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

Their comfort zone

Jake Lockley x afab!reader

Summary: Jake tried to re-establish connection with Steven's former steakhouse date. She was mean to them and now Jake seeks comfort in you.

Cw/triggers: Comfort, fluff, one or two curse words.

This has been requested via pm and wishes to stay anonymous. :)

"Wait, Dylan. Give Steven another chance, he didn't–"

"No. Whatever freakshow goes on in your head, I've already told you. Lose. My. Number!"

Jake took a breath. "Come on, I just told you about us."

There was a short sigh, then the call ended.

-

Jake slumped back, taking a moment to process the nerve wrecking call.

After a minute he dials another number - yours.

"Hi Jake." came your soft voice which made him smile.

"Hey there. Listen... I just had a rollercoaster of a call.. can I come over for a bit to clear my mind?" Jake's voice was soft, almost broken.

You've never experienced Jake this sad, only his tough, calm and menacing side, so this is a surprise.

"Of course, Jake. Is everything alright?"

"I'll explain everything once I'm there. Thanks by the way." He had a genuine smile on his face for your understanding.

Jake ended the call, getting dressed in his usual attire and his trusty hat.

It wasn't long until Jake knocked on your door.

When you opened it, Jake had a small smile on his face, not wanting to come off too hurt.

"Hey, thanks for letting me stop by."

You smile. "You know I'm always there for you guys." you stepped to the side, inviting him in.

While Jake made himself comfortable in your living room, you were in the kitchen, making tea.

Once you returned, you put both mugs down on the coffee table. "I know you guys prefer black coffee except Steven, but I thought tea might be better." you chuckle softly.

Jake smiled widely at you, taking his mug. "No it's completely fine. The tea is actually the right thing I need rightnow."

You sat down beside him on the couch, sipping on your tea. "So, what do you wanna talk about?"

"Well," Jake started, "you know the woman Steven was supposed to go on a date at the steakhouse?"

"Yeah. The one he accidentally forgot." you nod.

"Exactly," Jake gave a curt nod, "so, I called her, wanting to make her forgive us and give Steven another chance."

"What did she say?"

Jake sipped on his tea. "She was a total bitch about it, not letting me finish talking."

He continued. "She was so mean to us. Poor Steven was so done with her and Marc tried reasoning too, but she kept insulting us." Jake sighed.

Putting your mug down, you scoot closer to him, wrapping your arm around his shoulders. "Jake, she wasn't worth it. You all deserve better." you smile softly.

Jake put his hat down. "Really? You think that? I just want to be there for Steven and Marc."

"Yes I think that," you began running your fingers through his hair, making Jake lean into your touch, "you three deserve nothing but the best." you say gently.

Jake closed his eyes, smiling. "Holy shit, hearing you like that... I think we are falling for you."

You giggle. "Even Marc and Steven?"

"Even Marc and Steven." Jake admits softly, wrapping his arms around you.

Jake pulled back, looking at you with a soft expression. "Hey, do you mind if we stay for tonight?" his tone was sincere.

You smile. "Yes, of course!"

"Thanks, mi amor." Jake hugged you tighter, the three of them are looking forward on spending the night with someone who could understand them - you.

-------------------------

Wanna get tagged?

Tags:

@nekoyin @steven-grants-world @iolaussharpe-24 @buckyssugarchick @sugarplumz100 @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @krakenkitty @silvernight-m @lunaana-02 @ivystoryweaver @chaithetics @mooksmouse @heavydirtysoulsblog @faretheeoscar @deceasedream69 @sejanusxfan

[clairewritesandrambles]

In the Middle of the Night - Scott Miller

Summary: After a close encounter with a tornado, Scott comforts you through a nightmare.

Pairing: Scott Miller x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Near-death experience, car accident (flashbacks, briefly explained), nightmare, mention of reckless driving

A/N: This might be the nicest I've ever written Scott. Hopefully you all still like him, even if it's a bit further from what we saw in the movie! Thank you to @famfan-1034 and @seeyalaterinnovator for beta reading this story.

The world was thundering around you as you desperately tried to will the truck to drive faster. Despite your foot being pressed flat against the floor, it was as if the vehicle was stuck in an inescapable loop. No matter what you did you could hear the rumbling of the tornado gaining on you, the noise reverberating in your chest.

"Come on, you've got to go faster," Scott yelled at you from the passenger seat.

You glanced over at him, seeing him twist around in his seat to watch the black funnel barreling behind you. You noticed that he didn't have his seat belt on as your foot desperately ground the pedal into the floor, having no effect on the speed of the vehicle. You needed to tell him to put his seat belt on, but it felt as though there was a physical barrier in your throat that prevented sound when you tried to open your mouth.

As the tornado gained on you, you felt as though you were back in your childhood. Standing too close to the train tracks, the freight train overwhelmed every sense. The sound deafened you as everything in your vicinity shook violently, vibrations numbing the feeling of the steering wheel in your hands. The swirling black wedge was all that was visible in your mirrors now, appearing as though to engulf all the light left in the world.

The frame of the truck groaned as you realized that your momentum had slowed even more, beginning to be slowly pulled back towards the spiral behind you. You grabbed at your seat belt in desperation, tugging on it uselessly as it jammed in its buckle. With wide eyes, you looked up at Scott, who was strangely calm. The words in your throat clawed at their cage, seeking any sort of escape.

You tried to get the truck back under control, despite the futility of the attempt, finally giving up just before you heard the crunch of metal. The roof crumpled violently, the frame snapping as the windows imploded. Your hands flew up to protect your face, not even taking notice of the possibility of pain as you wildly looked around.

Scott held your gaze for a brief moment, time seeming to bend around you, before being forcefully pulled from his seat. You were moving in slow motion again as you leaned forward in a desperate attempt to grab him, swearing you could feel the brush of his hand as your seatbelt choked you back in your seat and Scott was ripped from view. You were finally able to gather words from your throat, screaming his name in anguish as the truck's metal continued to collapse around you.

Just before you were crushed by the ever-shrinking vehicle, you bolted up in the pitch black. You looked around in terror for a few moments, eyes taking a few moments to adjust to the dimness. Slowly, you remembered where you were. The thin sheets of the motel scratched annoyingly at your skin, giving you a slight grip on reality. Jagged, acidic breaths burned your lungs, the feeling of fear continuing to crush your chest despite waking up.

You swung your legs over the side, relishing the rough feel of the motel carpet grounding you as you held your head. You fought the tears bubbling in your chest, a mix of slow and broken breaths escaping you.

After the events of the day, you supposed you shouldn't be surprised by the dream. Your encounter with the tornado hadn't been nearly as violent, though the terror in both scenarios had gripped you just the same.

Years of working with storms and you had never feared one, instead finding the thrill of their ferocity captivating, but now you questioned your place amongst them.

Your chasing partner, Jason, and you had been leading the charge in Lion, driving into the path of the tornado to drop your radar. Part of the reason for his assignment to Lion was that his driving allowed him to get ahead of tornadoes easily, though his love of adrenaline had often led him to poor choices.

This time, you had been caught up in it and the results had left the truck mangled and you and Jason barely surviving.

You massaged the stone of anxiety sinking deep into your chest as your body could still feel the reality of hiding in that culvert as the tornado passed nearby, rumbling everything around you like a runaway freight train. You had laid there curled into a ball and struggled to breathe until you heard the rushing sounds of vehicles quickly followed by your co-workers' voices calling your names.

The ringing in your ears had prevented you from hearing most of what went on, though you remember seeing the anxiety bleed out of Javi and Scott when they saw you climbing out of the ditch. Your body evidently had the same reaction to seeing the safety of your team, collapsing into the dirt as you came down from the adrenaline high.

You barely heard the soft knock at the door over your slowly steadying breathing. You steel yourself as you open the door, though there are immediate cracks in that resolve when you see who it is.

Scott stood outside your door with dark hair standing at odd angles, bare chest contrasting with the black sweats hanging low on his hips. He was a mess, by his standards, yet you couldn't help but admire him.

"Are you okay?" He asked, thick brows knitting together in concern. His voice was scratchy, sounding as though he had been in a deep sleep.

Your cheeks heated as you realized that he must have heard your nightmare from his room next to yours, the thin walls of the motel not doing much for privacy. You looked down slightly in a small bubble of embarrassment, noticing that the heels of his shoes were bent down as though he had felt that putting them on properly would slow him too much.

"Yeah," you confirmed, "sorry for bothering you."

This was the part of Scott that was often reserved for you, the part that had drawn you to him in the first place. Yours and Scott's attraction to each other was an open secret amongst the company, resulting in endless teasing after the night a few weeks ago when you two had stumbled into his room after too many drinks at the bar.

You knew that Scott had that meaner side, and had seen just how far he could go when he had practically shoved Jason against Scarecrow after the accident. You hadn't caught his words, the combination of ringing ears and Javi's fretting capturing most of your attention before Javi helped you to your feet. Then you looked at Scott and, noticing that he looked seconds away from punching Jason, called out to him.

The other employees had wondered how you, someone who was known for avoiding conflict at all costs, had captured and returned the attention of your hardass boss. The truth was simply that Scott was different around you, especially when it would just be the two of you working late. Underneath his rough exterior, Scott cared deeply for those close to him, though he hid it from them, and the reason for his demeanor was due to a difficult past with relationships that prevented him from easily trusting. He had confessed this to you one particularly late night at the bar when you two were inebriated to the point of senseless rambling, apologizing for all of the sarcastic jokes he had thrown since you entered the business.

Truth be told, that sarcasm was one of your favourite things about him.

Unfortunately, you had a similar past and this is what led to the stalemate in your relationship, as you both hesitated at the thought of the commitment and vulnerability of a relationship.

Scott nodded sharply, taking a small step back. "Well, if you want me... I'm there."

You were shocked at your body's reaction to his words, a lump forming slightly in your throat. Turns out that near-death experiences really do change you. Your hand moved to close the door, though your body pauses mid-motion. Your gaze returned to Scott, focusing on the earnest look in those blue eyes.

Fuck it.

"Scott, wait," you called as he started turning back to his own room. "Will you stay with me?"

Scott's lips quirked up in a small smile despite himself, nodding as he stepped into your room. You wordlessly shut the door, hearing him kick his shoes off behind you. You leaned back against it when you turned around, second-guessing your decision to invite him for a split second.

But then you turn around and see him standing there looking at you, the soft look in his eyes bringing you back to that night together when you had believed, for however brief of a second, that you could find a way to bypass your hesitations for him.

Before you can hesitate further you step into him, Scott immediately wrapping his strong arms around you without a second thought. His chin rested on the top of your head as you both stood there, a thumb rubbing soothingly at your hip as you relished in his heat.

Your breath shuddered at the gesture, still unused to allowing yourself to be held in this way again. You almost change your mind about letting him in, but then he's pulling you tighter into his body and you close your eyes and let your mind go blank.

You melted further into him, feeling his grip on you tighten in response. Being this close to him, all you could smell was him. All you could feel was the softness of his skin as he held you, patiently waiting for what you decided would be the next move. For the first time since you had gotten into the truck that morning, you felt the anxiety in you begin to dissipate. Your senses were enveloped by him, slowly backing you from the ledge of panic you had been balancing on.

Scott didn't loosen his grip on you until you leaned back in his arms to look up at him. "Thank you for checking on me."

He smiled at you softly, cupping your jaw as he pressed a feather-light kiss to your forehead. Despite your glimpses of the softer parts of himself that Scott kept hidden from the world, you were surprised at the gesture. It was so unlike him, outwardly showing as gentle an emotion as this, yet the affection that soared through your body for him rivaled that of the night that he had kissed you against his motel room door.

"C'mon," he whispered into your hair, "let's get you back to bed."

The last of the residual panic from your nightmare seeped away as you curled into Scott's body, the steady beat of his heart settling yours. "You're unnaturally warm."

Scott let out a short laugh at your comment, his hand cascading down the small of your back and over your curves to hook your knee over his hip. "Maybe you're just weirdly cold."

You hummed in response, pretending to consider that possibility for a moment. You looked up at him, the soft look in his eyes taking you aback. You had refused to ask him earlier, but the look in his eyes now compelled you to bring it up.

"Did you fire him?" You asked, looking down as you began tracing swirls into the soft skin of his chest.

"Of course," he answered, beginning to move his thumb in comforting circles on your hip. "I should have fired him sooner."

"Scott," you said, "there's no way you could have known what was going to happen."

"I did know, though." He interjected, the abruptness of his answer stalling your movement. "Javi and I had considered firing him a few weeks ago, but I fought for him to stay because he's the fastest driver on the team. I knew it was a ticking time bomb for him to cause an accident."

"If we..." Scott trailed off, swallowing nervously before he continued. "If I had lost you because I chose efficiency over safety, I don't think I could live with myself. Hearing the truck flip and not being able to do anything for you... All I could think of was all the wrong choices I'd made. Especially with you, I should have never let you walk out of my room after that night."

You slowly raised your head to look back at him. His blue eyes were steady in their gaze, showing no trace of deception behind his words as he finished. "I need you to know how much you mean to me."

Tears stung your eyes at his words, the years of not receiving this type of care and attention from other men catching up with you. You cupped the back of his head as you pulled him down to your lips, losing yourself in the taste of him. Your fingers curled in his hair as you both desperately grasped at each other, trying to get impossibly closer.

You let out a shaky breath when you finally separated. "You were in my dream." You said before you could lose your nerve. "I couldn't outrun the tornado and save you. That's what woke me up."

Scott grabbed your hand, placing it on top of his heart so you could feel the beat in his chest. "I'm right here, with you... I've got you, baby," he said, a small smile on his face. "Now that I've got you, you'd have to actually sacrifice me to a tornado to get rid of me."

You let out a soft laugh at his words, finally feeling your exhaustion catching up with you again. "I'll keep that in mind if you ever start annoying me." You told him, readjusting yourself to lay against his chest.

"You're riding with me if you want to come back, by the way. At least until we find someone I know I can trust with you." You smiled at him, placing a light kiss on his chest as you finally let peaceful sleep overtake you again.

[dreamwreaver]

Vox getting frustrated over the fact Alastor is getting too close to the princess.

Zestial hearing rumours of Alastor's involvement with Charlie's flight of fancy.

Lucifer thinking that Alastor was dating his daughter, only to be blatantly relieved to find out it was Vaggie she was dating.

Mimzy getting verbally booted out of the hotel by Alastor, who used to clean up after her and been her friend since they were alive, only because she brought danger to the hotel and before she leaves, says to have fun with "his little princess".

Angel half-jokingly remarks about Alastor and Charlie running away from their responsibilities which is a line often commonly used for a couple eloping.

Rosie, upon first meeting Charlie, says she's much too young for him, clearly kidding around about him finding a new date for her to formally meet.

So many hints, so many jokes, so many references to Charlie and Alastor's relationship... What does it all mean?? This is literally what foreshadowing a couple looks like, if this were any other show, of course.

Let's also add in the fact that he breaks his own rule of rather breaking his own bones to avoid being touched by people without prior consent for her specifically, is one of the go to people to make her laugh with a pun (the lowest form of humor depending on who you ask), made himself completely comfortable on her bed when she was at her lowest and CONTINUED to stay there even after she left thereby putting his scent all over the damn thing, refused to take her soul when we all know it was something Charlie would willingly give if it meant saving her friends and people from the exterminations, and quite possibly my favorite; the deer mating noises he makes around just her.

Or one of my favorite scenes in the entire show;

Take a moment and really look at this. Alastor's gaze remains directly locked on Charlie, who reciprocates. But as he leans an arm on the back of her chair, far less in her personal space than he normally is, she grows incredibly bashful. Now, nervousness is a fine reaction, but notice the body language. She sticks her hands between her thighs and and closes her knees around them. Now I don't know about you, but consider for a moment how deliberate every action in animation is. Are there not better ways to convey the emotion she's displaying that DONT look like she's been caught having naughty thoughts about the radio demon by said demon himself?

I would love to show this scene to a non hazbin fan and ask them how they interpret this. There's a new charlastor challenge for my fellow shippers. Show someone that gif and ask them how they interpret it.

And if we delve into the meta lore there's even more. Viv has gone on record with a doodle explaining that Alastor and Charlie's shared sense of humor is the lonely island song "Mona Lisa", and that there are precisely three named characters who like pineapple on their pizza: Charlie, Alastor, and Lilith. Far be it from me to tell Viv how to run her show, but let's also look at helluva boss; a love story between a royal of hell and a creature of lower status. One who has found a way to seize some measure of power and eke out their own path. A lower class being who had a terrible father and lost his mother whom he was the closest to. Someone who hates being in chains, and is so desperate to break free of them and yet finds only emptiness when he realizes he does give a shit about this royal he tried to convince himself he didn't care about.

Am I describing Blitz, or Alastor?

All I'm saying is, it wouldn't be out of her narrative style if it was endgame. And even if it isn't in a traditional sense, all current narrative beats indicate that Charlie is going to become Alastor's person, his exception to all of his rules, and the person who as someone so successfully dodged a straight answer about, "who he'd do absolutely anything for"

[justanerddummie]

I've got a lot of things to say about s2 so I'll divide them in two posts, spoilers after the cut beware

First thing first, the intro, it's beautiful I love it, it gives us a lot of information about every character and what they're going through, about how each and everyone of them is changing and that's exactly why I think it will change before the end of the season, once everyone is focus. I don't think it will change every act, even though I'd love that but I'd surprised if it didn't change at all.

Now let's talk about the juicy stuff.

Jinx

What I really want to talk about is the figth with Vi and Cait. I really don't think Jinx went there with the intention of dying, I think she went there with the intention of killing both Vi and Powder for good, and also found herself face to face with the monster she created, Caitlyn. When Caitlyn shot her finger off was probably the first time we've seen, Jinx, not Powder, actually being terrified and what is Jinx if not a mask, a persona that Powder has learnt to wear to survive the undercity when she was alone the first time around. Right now Powder needs people more than ever, she needs Ishta and she needs Sevika because Jinx isn't working anymore she needs to find a new way to be able to survive and I think it's the perfect timing for her to become the face of the revolution, because she's ready to accept people in her life once more, because simply surviving by being the baddest bitch around isn't viable anymore, she needs an higher purpose to move her forward and finally bring her out of the metaphorical cage her past rappresents. I can really see Jinx take on the role of protector this season, to the undercity, to Ishta and maybe Vi? After watching her stand up to Cait, literally blocking her bullets with her own body, I think Jinx has realized that even though Vi has made a lot of awful decision, she is still there, she just needs a little push to remember who she is. Let's be real the nothing else to lose clip has basically told us that they were teaming up again, we're getting the sisters back together this is just something that re-enforces the theory.

Sevika and Ishta

Ok, this is rough because I'm just speculating and I have nothing to base this hunch on, but I unfortunately think that Ishta is going to die, and that Sevika is going to betray Jinx. The only thing that supports this insane theory is that Arcane is a story told in cycles the end for how awful it is will never change, it's always the characters making the same mistakes of the past and to whom do we see Jinx being compared to? Vander. And who did Sevika betray? yep Vander. I'm pretty sure I'm wrong but I can totally see Sevika become the next Vander or Silco, by the end of the season, and I guess a lot of people think it's going to be Jinx but as Jinx has said herself to Smeech, "every one that gets close to me dies". Ishta and the people of the undercity are going to be collateral damage and this will prompt Sevika to turn on Jinx.

Ekko

He's the only one who got the assignment. He's the only one who tries to break the cycle of violence, he tries to do it with Jinx even though he gets blown up by a granade as a thank you and he breaks it with Heimerdinger without pointing the finder and this time he manages to get an ally in fighting the arcane pollution. No notes here, Ekko is the bestest boy.

Mel

I think the intro is telling us that by the end of the season Mel is going to be in the position Ambessa was in the blood and tears music video. I might be wrong but I can see her understanding what the fuck is Ambessa up against and choose to take her family side here. She is ready to become both the fox and the wolf (poor Jayce, he's going to get through another divorce). Also hasn't Mel been revealed a mage by the catastrophic promotional campaign? I guess that would explain how she and Jayce are unscathed.

Viktor

Jesus Viktor is kind of hot, I would love to talk about him but he's barely even been shown and I know basically nothing about lol lore. I can't understand if he's a good guy, a bad guy or a secret third option, so far I can only say that if he's able to control the arcane pollution in order to heal people he could be of help to Ekko.

Jayce

He keeps changing his mind on everything as usual, but I personally could have not argued with what he said to Viktor during the divorce. He was right morality means nothing if you have a chance of saving your friend's life. Other than that, I loved the weird glitchy thing at the base of the hex gates and how Ekko basically told him he's to blame for the arcane pollution that is destroying his home. Really hope Jayce owns up to it and does something to actually fix his mistakes.

Ambessa

I loved how she controls the scene while basically being background. The way she regards Caitlyn when she shuts Salo up at the meeting. It's obvious she thinks she's finally found the perfect person for the job, Caitlyn has the power to make Jayce build weapon with hextech, her family name carries way more respect than Salo, and what's more she's a decorated officer, the one who managed to uncover Marcus corruption. I mean she'd be every fascist wet dream, it's pretty obvious that the big houses of Piltover will get behind her without saying a word. Salo on the other hand would have been a much thougher sale, even if safer. Let's be real Caitlyn isn't a coward or an idiot like Salo and for as much as Ambessa will be trying to manipulate her, Caitlyn will be breathing down her neck. It's obvious at least to me that if the leader of a foreign country is offering help she will want something in return and Caitlyn being the daughter of a councilor will at least have had a bit of training in politics and know at least the basics. I can see Cait bend her morality to the limit willingly, but not fall for the manipulation, not completely at least. I really hope she'll not be that stupid, but I guess we'll have to see.

Cait and Vi will get their own post, cause seriously there is just too much to talk about.

[mxtantrights]

estoy rendido del amor de una mujer

a/n: he got me y'all don't look, I'm down bad. so basically this is just a one-parter. I don't know. If you ask for a part two or if I see y'all like it maybe I can whip something up. lets just see how it goes.

and for the sake of this story: Armando didn't kill the captain, and he's out on some 'good behavior' deal and helping Mike and Marcus with cases linked to the cartel.

Armando Aretas x fem!reader

SUMMER 2023, MIAMI FLORIDA

You almost got burned tonight. A rookie cop saw you, and the heat you were packing and tried to arrest you. After hastily explaining to him that you weren't packing for no reason, he let you go. But you had missed an important meeting.

It had taken you two years to get into German's inner circle. German is a big player in the Miami scene. He's not known for being a trusting person. But he does have a thing for high ranking positions of power and women. Deadly combination, which was what you used.

Although he's putting you on the back burner after tonight.

You sigh and slot your key into the lock. The lock doesn't turn. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You take out your knife, not wanting to make too much noise for your neighbors.

Slowly you ease into your apartment. You look around quickly. The four corners of the living room are clear. Then again they would be, anyone who was lurking inside could be seen from the window.

You had your knife up as you tip toe into the kitchen. And there you find them.

Mike and Marcus. And they brought company. Three other people you don't know in your house. Your undercover house. They are all looking above something on the table, too occupied with it to notice your arrival.

"Oh what fresh hell is this." you say.

They all turn around.

Mike smiles, "I was just telling the crew about you."

You hold up you hand, "Whatever the hell this is, is gonna fuck with my shit so you need to go. Now."

"Langauge! I thought I told you that last time." Marcus shouts.

You put down your knife with a sigh.

"I've been working this guy for two years, and if he sees two cops coming out of my apartment I'm done. I'll curse if I want to curse." you explain.

The tall blonde man raises his hand, like he's in school. Your eyebrows raise in surprise as you look at Mike and Marcus.

"Dorn, you don't have to-just say what you want say man." Mike says.

The man, Dorn, nods his head and then looks at you.

"We know you're after German. And we're not here to cause any trouble but we just needed to ask for any information you have on his right hand man." Dorn says.

He picks up a tablet and shows you a picture. You look at the screen and then back at Dorn.

"Do you know him?" the woman asks you.

"That's Nico, they call him Nissan. Well, called. German found out he was skimming some off the top and lets just say he's not on vacation right now." You answer.

Mike groans, "He was our only way in."

"Into what? What have the two of you old-timers got yourself into this time?" you ask.

Mike and Marcus start arguing loudly when you call them old. You snicker as you reach into your fridge and look for the last Corona you had. When you find the bottle is not inside, you close the fridge door.

Your eyes scan the counter top, to see if you maybe left it out. But you don't find it. So you look over at the table. You find it there, opened and empty. Next to the unknown male in your kitchen.

You meet his eyes.

"You drank my beer?" you ask, though it's not a question.

He smirks and tilts his head at you. "Problem?"

You roll your eyes. Then you walk over to Marcus and Mike.

"I've told you that he's dead, so he can't help you. Neither can I. Yo've gotta go now." you say.

"No no no, hold on. If Nico is burned then the only one who can help us is you. We just need some files-" he speaks but you cut him off.

Burned. Nico is burned. He was an informant? German definitely didn't know that. Or if he did, he is keeping it close to his chest. Christ.

"Do you want me dead?! German either killed Nico knowing or not knowing that he was an informant, but either way he's dead. If I go snooping around I can just drive myself over to the morgue." you argue.

"She's got a point." Dorn says.

You turn to him, "Thank you, tall International man."

"Dorn is not international, but that's not the point. The point is, you have an in. And we need you." Marcus says.

You sigh. They need an in when you're not exactly in German's good graces. Great. Not only would you have to work your way back but you'd have to work under pressure.

"He'll smell her from a mile away." the unknown man says.

Mike looks over at him, "She's very good at what she does."

"Cops tend to have a tell." The man shrugs.

"She's not a cop. She's a freelancer." Marcus answers.

"And the best one I know." Mike tags on.

No doubt buttering you up. You groan. Yes, you liked being called the best at what you do. And it wouldn't take much to get info. You have the access. You'll be under a close eye but you can pull it off.

"Tell me what you need and when you need it by." you say.

-

2 DAYS LATER, MIAMI

You pulled the straps of your dress tighter. No wonder needed them to be 'loose' for an accidental cleavage slip.

The compute chimed and altered you that the information was done copying. You ejected the thumb drive and stuffed it into the fake juul packaging. You closed all the windows on the computer and pressed restart.

Now came the hard part. You smoothed out your dress and walked over to the door. You checked between the blinds and made sure no one was coming this way.

It's not like you couldn't be in the office. If someone a bit lower than you saw you coming out you wouldn't be questioned. But if someone higher than you in ranking saw, they might be curious.

You exit the office and turn down the hallway. Taking the way with the most witnesses as possible, more people to account for you later on.

Into the blue room, where you pass the exotic dancers. Then though the 'greenery' room, where some workers are watering the plants. Finally through the purple room where the weapons are stored.

You make it all the way outside with no one stopping you.

With a sigh of relief you quick walk to your motorbike. You take out your helmet and put your bag into the storage underneath the seat. Without another thought you get on your bike and ride out of the compound.

You ride from South Miami to your apartment near Hollywood.

When you get there, you go around the back. Better to let everyone think you weren't here than you were. Who knows who could be watching you.

You come in from the window in your bedroom. And somehow it feels like you're intruding because here he is. In your room.

Mike told you about him, a little. Armando is his son. His son with the cartel woman he was seeing way back when that he didn't know he had. He's done things, bad things. But he's making up for it.

Making up for it by sitting at your computer in your room.

"Oje, get the hell out of here!" you shout.

He turns to you slowly. You hate his cocky attitude. You hate his smirk and how he keeps eye contact with you. You step fully into your room and slide the window closed behind you.

Armando gets up from the seat with his hands up, "Lo siento,"

"You're not sorry, otherwise you wouldn't have found your way in here in the first place." you speak.

He looks you up and down. Yeah it was probably the dress. It's summer time in Miami and you weren't about to put on a sweater. You'd have to blend in and a sundress was about as normal as ablue sky here.

"You know spanish?" he asks.

You start walking away from him, "This is Miami."

You take out the thumb drive and open the door to your room. When you stop walking, you hear him laugh to himself. You watch him walk through it first and then you after him.

"Mike, I got it." you say as you walk into the living room.

The shades have been drawn and the black out curtains too.

"I ever tell you you're the best?" he jokes.

"Yeah every time you need something." you reply.

You hand the drive to Dorn. He takes it and plus it into his computer. You watch as the flies pop up on his screen. He seems to be reading them a mile per minute.

"What'd you want with all that anyways?" you ask.

You watch as Marcus and Mike share a look between themselves. It unnerves you. You know they have a way of talking without sharing words. It's what happens when you work with someone for so long.

Marcus smiles and claps his hands together, "Mike thinks I should be the one to tell you. Because he has a more salp-able face."

You squint your eyes.

"Are you about to screw me?" you ask.

"Not per say, but you might not like what we have to say." Marcus ushers you to the kitchen.

The two of you walk all about two steps in before he's unloading on you. He starts off pretty strong, that you''re more than capable of handling German. And that you put in the time for it too.

But then he's telling you a different story.

German is in connection with a guy they're looking to take down. Something about a syndicate. Something about getting both of them at once. And Mike and Marcus have the backing of the PD.

You can feel the steam coming from your ears.

"Marcus you can't be trying to poach my guy right now!" you yell.

"The yelling, keep it down, you're undercover after all." He holds his hands up in defense.

You cross your arms over your chest, "You don't even know who I'm working for."

"Well, it's not someone who's paying you that's for sure." He divulges.

All at once he realizes he probably shouldn't have said that. Because if he knows you're not getting paid for this job then he's went though your bank statements. And probably a lot more.

Your eyes widen and your turn around and run into the living room. There you find Dorn, hiding behind Mike, with his computer in hand.

"You got beanstalk here to go through my stuff?!" you yell.

Mike pushes Dorn back even further.

"Look, we needed to know if we were stepping on government agency toes. And now we know we're not." Mike answers.

You leap to pounce on him but Marcus is faster and grabs you by the waist. You fight against him a little, knowing the he's probably gonna feel it tomorrow morning.

"That's an invasion of privacy. But I guess like father like son, since this one was in my room when I got here." you shout.

Mike looks at Armando, "Now, I told you to get out of there."

Armando shrugs.

"I'm sorry. But listen you can still be part of it." Mike says.

"How nice of you Mike. I'll be sure to thank you when we're done." you spit sarcastically.

Marcus lets you go and you decide to take a seat on the couch. Dorn frees himself from the corner of the room and takes a seat in the arm char that is farthest from you.

"You never take a job for free. What gives?" Mike asks.

You roll your eyes. It's not like you were money hungry. Yes you needed money to survive but you weren't broke. You could afford to not work for the next ten years if you wanted to. But you'd miss it too much.

This isn't that though. This isn't fun.

This is revenge.

"I thought you read through my stuff. You didn't put it together?"

"It's revenge." Armando answers.

You turn around from your seat on the couch and look at him. He's looking right back at you. He probably didn't read your file, probably was too boring for him. But how'd he figure it out?

It's not like you left the reason on your computer. You wouldn't make such a rookie mistake.

"How'd you figure that out? Did you find her moodboard?" Marcus jokes.

You pass him a look. He takes a step back.

"Alright, alright, no more jokes about the mood board. Got it." Marcus says to himself.

"What other reason could she be doing this for?" Armando asks.

"It's been twelve years. I spent ten years tracking him down and two years infiltrating his circle. He has no clue who I am. None." you start to explain.

"I'm sorry, it wasn't in your file. Who are you?" Dorn asks.

"Well she was leader of the dirty dozen in New York. Highly effective tactile group, skin ranging from murder, assassinations, weapon making, and a whole lot more." Mike says.

"And when the group cut ties, she ran the underground for a bit. Nothing happened without her knowing it." Marcus adds on.

"Not a cop." Armando says.

"I'm the daughter of German's former right hand man." you answer.

Which is why it stung a lot that Mike and Marcus wanted to take this case from you. Knowing who you are and knowing what it means. You worked for this. And you're gonna see it through come hell or high water.

-

THE NEXT NIGHT, MIAMI

Mike and Marcus were all set with their crew. German would never allow them to step foot into his compound but lucky for them they don't have to.

You snuck in last night and triggered the sprinkler system. Everything got flooded. So while German is getting everything cleaned up and possibly looking for a new base of operations, he's hanging out with a buddy.

Zio. Money hungry drug mover. Only thing he loves more than money and drugs is his expensive shoe collection. Which he's putting on display tonight.

A rich man's party is the best place to re-con. You told Mike and Marcus how many men German has on him at all times, but that doesn't give them much for when the time comes to take him down.

What's their tactical response like? What weapons do they bring on the move? How many cars? Things like that. Which was smart thinking and not at all on your mind when you first started this.

Armando leans back in the van's chair, man spreading. You roll your eyes but you say nothing. You weren't really trying to talk to him. Lest he find out more about you.

He seems to be tapped in to you. Which is weird. You've never had someone checking for you before.

"I can hear you rolling your eyes from here. What's up? he asks.

He spins around in his chair and faces you. Smug look on his face as he leans back.

"Nothing. Just want to get this over with." you say.

He nods once, then he creeps closer to you with his chair. He's about a foot away from you.

"You wanted to be the one to kill him." he muses.

You look at him, "Well yes. It was my mission. I found him. I infiltrated. I lost someone to him."

"It won't make the pain go away." he says.

"Oh please don't give me the 'revenge will just turn into guilt' talk. I got it from Mike and Marcus." you sigh.

Before you can blink or think of anything else to say, you feel your chair being pulled to the left. You grab onto the only thing in view and that happens to be Armando's leg.

"If I get him in my crosshairs, I'll hand the shot to you." he says.

You look him in the eyes, "Do you want a thank you or something?"

He smiles, "No te preocopes, no quiero nada."

"It doesn't seem like you don't want anything." you reply.

The back door of the van opens and he lets go of your chair. You slide back a bit to put some space between you two. He turns back to the screen in front of him.

-

THE NEXT MORNING, MIAMI

The steam from the shower wafts out the bathroom. You wrap your towel around your body a little tighter as you walk into the kitchen. The tea you were making is beyond ready, the kettle at this point screaming at a frequency only dogs can hear.

You turn it off and set it aside.

As your reaching for your favorite mug, you hear faint noises from the front door. You run over to the dinning room table and reach underneath the wooden chair. Your fingers wrap around the gun and you pull it close.

One swift check and the safety is off. You crab walk to the other side of the kitchen counter, away from the door. The noise becomes louder until you hear the door open.

"Shit, where'd she go." a voice says.

A voice, you know it. You get up from your position on the floor and look around the wall. Armando.

"What the hell are you-" you're about to ask.

"We need to go. now. No time to pack. Put some clothes on." He directs you.

He almost gives you no say when he grabs you by the elbow and maneuvers you into your room. He closes the door behind him and takes out his gun.

"Am I just supposed to undress in front of you?" you question, with your eyebrow raised.

He lets his arms fall to his sides. Then he walks over to the window, allowing you to walk over to the closet. You pull the door open and grab the first pair of jeans and shirt you can find.

Making sure he's actually turned first, you then put on your underwear and bra. Then you pull the shirt over your body, lastly your pants.

You walk to your dresser and reach into the cabinet. The noise must alert him that you're dressed because he turns around.

"We don't have time. You got made." Armando says.

"What the fuck do you mean I got made?" you ask.

"What I said. You're not safe here." he answers.

You grab your go-bag and move over to the window. Chest to Chest with Armando you look up at him.

"Where the hell am I gonna be safe then?"

He doesn't answer you. Maybe because he didn't have an answer. Or because the bullets started raining into your apartment right on time. Then he was nudging you out of the window and down the fire escape.

-

A COUPLE OF HOURS LATER, UNAMED MOTEL, ORLANDO

You put your bag down on the floor. The bed looked horrible. But horrible would have to do for now. You can't really make requests on the run.

Armando shuts the door behind him.

"Since you paid you can take the bed." you say.

He scoffs, "I'm not that kind of man."

You look over your shoulder, "Just one that snoops through my personal stuff and ignores personal space."

He says nothing. He walks silently into the bathroom and closes that door behind him too. You sigh and plop down onto the bed. You didn't understand.

Before Mike and Marcus showed up you were on track to get revenge within the next two weeks. Everything was set. There were backup plans. They were contingencies.

Now it was all shot to hell.

You hear the shower start up and lean back into the bed. And without meaning to you end up falling asleep. Right there on your back.

Armando comes out of the shower about five minutes after that. The soap sucked and the water had no pressure but at least he didn't feel like the sweat was clinging to him anymore.

He walks out of the bathroom and finds you laying on the corner of the bed. He looks you over once and crosses the room to cut off the lamps.

When the room is dark, he takes one of the pillows from the bed and sets himself up by the door. His gun tucked to his hip. This way he can keep an eye on the door and you.

You were interesting to say the least.

Usually people don't affect him this much. He can get on with his day and do what he has to do. Nothing comes in between him and a mission.

Especially now when his only mission was his freedom.

But there was something about you. Or, that's not really true. There were multiple things about you. He could see the lust for revenge in your eyes, he recognizes it well. He could tell you weren't being forthcoming either.

And he liked how you spoke your mind.

Liked? Why is he saying liked?

He doesn't really know you. He knows a little bit. He knows you only like tea, there is no coffee in your apartment. And you live in sweatpants when you don't have to be undercover. You also seem to have an aversion to the color blue.

He doesn't really know you. He can't like you.

He looks over at your sleeping form. How your lips part just a little bit and you snore. And your head leans to the right, your dominant side. He doesn't want to make you uncomfortable and move you. But he knows you'll wake up sore from sleeping this way.

So he gets up. He gets up because he needs to stretch his legs. Not because of any other reason.

He walks to the bathroom and turns on the light and the vent. Hoping the sound will rouse you and you'll move on your own. He steps into the bathroom and closes the door with a bit more force than needed.

He looks into the mirror. He looks himself in the eyes.

This is bad. This is bad because you're the type of girl he would take a bullet for.

-

THE NEXT MORNING, ORLANDO

"Mike-"

"I fucked up. I know you wanted this, and I took it from you when I should have let you handle it."

"Mike-"

"And now you're on the run. You've never been burned before, and it's because of me."

"Mike!"

"What?"

"Shut up for a second and let me think."

You sigh.

German caught on to the eyes on him when he was at the shoe party. While anyone else would have packed up and fled to a non extradition country, he's staying here.

A sign.

Whoever it is that wanted to get him, should come see him face to face. No way in hell were you going to do that. Not only did you have the smarts to wait him out, you didn't want Mike and Marcus to put themselves on the line. They would no doubt follow you into the fire.

"I think I should make my peace with this before anyone gets hurt." you say.

There's silence on the other end of the line. With Mike not talking , you turn around to find Armando. He's standing there, two feet away from you on the hood of the stolen pick-up truck from the motel parking lot.

"That's big of you." Mike jokes.

"Very. But I mean if I see him about to get ran over, I'm not goin to save his ass." you quip.

Mike laughs, "He doesn't deserve it. Your forgiveness."

"I know," you say and Armando looks at you then. "I should probably return him to you, since he's on parole."

"Yeah well he did some things that might kick that back a few years." Mike answers.

You shake your head, "You can say it was all me. Make sure Dorn gets rid of any incriminating footage."

"I didn't tell him to go get you, you know that?"

You don't know why but hearing that makes your heart kind of thump weird. Not thump weird. Your heart is already thumping, but it feels different.

Different as you look him in the eyes.

The first time you interacted with him you hoped it would be the last. And now here he is sticking his neck out for you when you haven't been all that kind.

"I didn't know that. I'll get him back to you in one piece." you speak.

"Thanks. And keep me updated wherever you land."

"Will do. Thanks Mike."

You hang up the phone. Armando takes a step closer and you hold out the phone for him. When he does you feel the quickest static brush against your fingertips.

"You good from here?" he asks.

You nod your head, "I'm a big girl, first time for everything."

He nods once with a small smirk on his lips. He looks away, somewhere off behind your shoulder. It's not like you didn't notice he's good looking. But you just never thought about it for too long.

"Let me drop you off at the station." he says.

You don't want to smile. You shouldn't smile. "Okay."

Armando waits for you to start walking. Once your in front of him he walks over to the driver's side. You climb into the truck and shut the door.

You could've walked. The station is only ten minutes from here. You smile a bit to yourself when he puts the car in drive.

[cowbok]

We Are Monsters Now.

(Its not everyday that i write something but enjoy this One-Shoot about Catnap and Dogday!)

Theodore was a timid child. Soft spoken, introverted, and quiet most of the times. But that was in the past, three years before he was transformed into this... Monster.

This creature, this... Thing. The adults working around the daycare that were unnaware of the inhumane experiments, they thought he was nothing but some kind of animatronic for the children.

The children thought he was the real Catnap from the TV show.

But he wasn't. He was Theo. He was once a human being, until the day all that changed, when he went asleep, the most deep sleep he ever got... And woke up like this... Monster.

He was kind of lucky, tho... That he didn't undergo all this pain alone. Some of his friends had suffered the same destinies, waking up in the new bodies, as big creatures that were meant to entretain and obey.

.... That's not really lucky.

But he'll be lying if he said he wasn't at least a bit glad he wasn't all alone in this... Elio, and the rest of his friends were now the... "Smiling Critters".

Still, that didn't mean he wasn't angry. Even with the company of his friends. He tend to act out. To try numerous time to escape. To try to hurt the scientists when they came to analize him

To try to have contact with beings he shouldn't have.

And, of course, all that fighting always got him in trouble. Cruel punishments of isolation. Like right now.

One of the scientist had found out that Theo tried to break in the labs in search of his... God. For his insolence, now he was being punished by not having dinner, by being a prisoner in that little cell.

And soon, by the one and only Leith Pierre who seemed... Upset.

- You are such a pain... - He said while standing outside of the cell. Protected from the ire of Theo. Using a gas mask, of course. He wasn't and idiot. - Do you have any idea of what you have done today... It could have been the end of us all - He explained, slowly.

Theo just growled. Even if his voice box was broken, he had nothing to say to that man.

- Gather yourself, 1188. You're no longer a little kid. You should understand now that actions have consecuences. - Pierre exhaled, and snapped his fingers.

Two more men appeared from behind him, using masks as well, and rods between their hands. Blue and yellow sparks escaped from the tip of the rods. They were going to electrocute him... How... funny.

- Maybe after you get a dosage of discipline, you'll start listening to the scientists and be a good Catnap for the children, won't you?

The two men opened the door, pointing the rods at Theo at every moment in case he tried to do something risky. They closed the door behind them and got closer, and closer.

Theo hissed and growled. His tail moving rapidly.

And suddenly, there was a scream. But it wasn't from Theodore.

But from Pierre.

- GET THIS MONSTER AWAY FROM ME-EE!! - Barely could talk as Elio was holding his throat between his orange hands

- YOU DON'T GET TO HURT HIM, YOU DON'T GET TO- - Elio tried. But he couldn't bring himself to actually press hard enough to choke Pierre.

- DOGDAY! STOP IT!! - Said one of the scientists still inside Theo's cell, rushing to get the door open while the second one still pointed at Theo with the rod.

- KILL HIM, KILL HIM!!! - Theo cried out loud. This was it, this was his chance of escaping!

If Elio killed Pierre, then they could use his key to get anywhere in the factory. They could free everybody, they could run away, they could...

Elio still wouldn't press Pierre's thoart hard enough... His hands were trembling, and he seemed stuck in one place, almost like if he was shocked with the heaviness of the situation.

It was too late. The scientist manage to open the cell door and hitted Elio with their rod, sending a wave of electricity throught his body.

His yellowish, dog-like body hit the ground, now unconsious.

The scientist helped Pierre to get up.

- Goodness gracious... You're not only a burden, you also have started to corrupt the other as well? -He said, looking at Theo. - Dogday had never acted out like this before!

Theo wasn't paying to much attention. He just felt his one chance fading away like nothing all because... Because...

- Get Dogday into a cell as well, now! - That was the last thing Pierre said before walking away.

The scientist called for some help to carry Elio's limp body into a cell. Then, decided to leave Theo alone for the rest of the night. Too much chaos now to keep going with the program.

Elio started to wake up. His cell next to Theo's.

- What... Happened? - He said slowly. Talking with the broken voice box was hard. But he wasn't going to let any scientist get close to him to fix it...

- I... I don't know... - Elio answered.

- You.... Didn't... Kill him

- No... I guess i didn't...

-.... - Theo didn't say anything. He just stared at Elio for a few seconds.

-... Oh. Well!! What did you wanted me to do?!?! I saw what they were about to do to you! i-i just acted out of instincs!! I didn't know what to do, alright?!

- You... Should have... Killed him

- Oh, really?! And for what?! What use would that have been?!

- We could... Have ESCAPED!

- WHAT'S THE POINT?!

The prison stayed silent for a long while. Elio had his head down, looking at the dirty floor, while Theo keep looking at him thourgh the bars with those withish, creppy eyes... Trying to understand.

- What.... What do you... Mean?

- Oh please, Theo! You really think we can escape?!?! That there's a chance?! We're not twelve anymore!! - Elio snapped back, standing up, walking as far away from Theodore as he could. - Grow up!

-.... What? - He whispered, and the light left his eyes.

- Alright, just think for a moment... Let's say we escape... What then? Do we go to the police? Us? A big purple cat and a yellow dog?! O-or maybe we first search for some mad scientist that's good of heart and knows how to give us human bodies first? Hmm? Does that seems like a plan?!

- Elio....

- Or perhaps we just survive out of trash for a few days until they send a searching party for us and when they capture us!!.... And they'll capture us... They'll just punish us horribly... - Elio turned to see Theo this time. -

The purple cat was holding the bars, his expression unreadable.

- Theo... Even if we escape... We'll never be truly free... We'll never get into highschool, o-or get a degree, or get to live a normal life... Look at us! We're monsters now... There's nothing for us out there... All we have is this place now

- No... - Theo mumbled, a dark liquid dripping from his eyes.

- The least we can do now is... Protect the other kids so they don't end up like us. - Elio sighed, sitting on the ground. - But, lets face it... We're both 15 now... It's been 3 years trapped inside this bodies... There's no turning back. We will never turn back...

"We are monsters, Theo. Let's face it'

[skyguy8108]

The difference with Ki-Adi and Anakin though is Ki-Adi was a Knight in the story whereas Anakin is still a Padawan so they might not let him leave.

I don't know if Lucas realized how he made the Jedi look because neither AOTC (movie) or novel explains why they had no contact. I know Lucas told Terry Brooks, the writer of TPM novel, what happens to Shmi in the second movie and that's why he wrote a scene in TPM novel with Anakin saving a Tusken.

The thing is Lucas wanted Shmi to die that way and for Anakin to lose it and he didn't care about how he made the Jedi look but I think were not suppose to see because he does not see the Jedi's rules as wrong even though we may question it and feel (as I do) that is part of why Anakin fell. In the AOTC commentary Lucas says Anakin would have been fine if he had been found as a 1 year old because he wouldn't have had a strong connection to his mother (I say he wouldn't have one at all) and learned to love without attachment. But what does loving without attachment really mean because it comes off as just not caring beyond Oh, that's said.

Obi-Wan knows Anakin has been having dreams about his mother, if contact was allowed surely Obi-Wan would suggest calling her but he doesn't. Going further with reading things from the movie we have Anakin telling Padmé he's ready for the trials and feels held back and I feel a part of that is because as a Knight he would have the freedom to go save his mother from slavery. The AOTC novel adds that other Padawans his age have taken the trials.

Before getting on the transport to Naboo Anakin tells Padmé this is his first assignment on his own. So that to me says he never had a chance to run off and help his mother and Padmé offering to go with him addresses the need of him getting a ship.

On the transport to Naboo Anakin has a nightmare, the scene was cut form the movie but Padmé mentions this when she says to Anakin he's had another nightmare. The second being the one he had on Naboo. This scene is also in the novel. Now I don't know why it was cut but it again raises the question of why Anakin doesn't know about his mother being free once Anakin and us the audience learn she's been free for years.

All the other Jedi are recruited as infants and are we to assume that no parent in the history of the Jedi Order has never tried to contact their child? Sure Lucas could say that has never happened but he hasn't so all we can assume is the Jedi would not allow the children given to the Order to have contact with their families. So them preventing Shmi from talking with Anakin is in their wheelhouse.

I have wondered what would the Jedi do if Cliegg or Owen had sent a message to tell Anakin what had happened to his mother. The Jedi are all about not acting on their emotions and they would remember how he felt about her when they first interviewed him and surely they know that he'd run off to help her and thus could easily determine Anakin should not be told.

There is a quote from TPM novel which I feels highlights the issues with the Jedi and why Qui-Gon would have been the ideal master for Anakin. Also in Legends Qui-Gon did do something to help Shmi which if he had lived I'm sure he would have told Anakin what he did. Qui-Gon was going to send Shmi money that Watto would take but worried Watto would be suspicious so he sent her a valuable ship part. After falling in love with Cliegg she gave it to him and Cliegg used that to free her.

Here is the quote:

Qui-Gon lifted his gaze to a darkened window. The storm had subsided, the wind abated. It was quiet without, the night soft and welcoming in its peace. The Jedi Master thought for a moment on his own life. He knew what they said about him at Council. He was willful, even reckless in his choices. He was strong, but he dissipated his strength on causes that did not merit his attention. But rules were not created solely to govern behavior. Rules were created to provide a road map to understanding the Force. Was it so wrong for him to bend those rules when his conscience whispered to him that he must?

The Jedi folded his arms over his broad chest. The Force was a complex and difficult concept. The Force was rooted in the balance of all things, and every movement within its flow risked an upsetting of that balance. A Jedi sought to keep the balance in place, to move in concert to its pace and will. But the Force existed on more than one plane, and achieving mastery of its multiple passages was a lifetime’s work. Or more. He knew his own weakness. He was too close to the life Force when he should have been more attentive to the unifying Force. He found himself reaching out to the creatures of the present, to those living in the here and now. He had less regard for the past or the future, to the creatures that had or would occupy those times and spaces.

It was the life Force that bound him, that gave him heart and mind and spirit.

So it was he empathized with Anakin Skywalker in ways that other Jedi would discourage, finding in this boy a promise he could not ignore. Obi-Wan would see the boy and Jar Jar in the same light—useless burdens, pointless projects, unnecessary distractions. Obi-Wan was grounded in the need to focus on the larger picture, on the unifying Force. He lacked Qui-Gon’s intuitive nature. He lacked his teacher’s compassion for and interest in all living things. He did not see the same things Qui-Gon saw.

Qui-Gon sighed. This was not a criticism, only an observation. Who was to say that either of them was the better for how they interpreted the demands of the Force? But it placed them at odds sometimes, and more often than not it was Obi-Wan’s position the Council supported, not Qui-Gon’s. It would be that way again, he knew. Many times.

This also ties into another part from TPM novel and the book Clone Wars Gambit Stealth.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes in dismay. This was a disaster waiting to happen. But it was Qui-Gon’s disaster to manage. It was not his place to interfere. Qui-Gon had made the decision to bring Jar Jar Binks along, after all. Not because he was a skilled navigator or had displayed even the slightest evidence of talent in any other regard, but because he was another project that Qui-Gon, with his persistent disregard for the dictates of the Council, had determined had value and could be reclaimed.

It was a preoccupation that both mystified and frustrated Obi-Wan. His mentor was perhaps the greatest Jedi alive, a commanding presence at Council, a strong and brave warrior who refused to be intimidated by even the most daunting challenge, and a good and kind man. Maybe it was the latter that had gotten him into so much trouble. He repeatedly defied the Council in matters that Obi-Wan thought barely worthy of championing. He was possessed of his own peculiar vision of a Jedi’s purpose, of the nature of his service, and of the causes he should undertake, and he followed that vision with unwavering single-mindedness.

Obi-Wan was young and impatient, headstrong and not yet at one with the Force in the way that Qui-Gon was, but he understood better, he thought, the dangers of overreaching, of taking on too many tasks. Qui-Gon would dare anything when he found a challenge that interested him, even if he risked himself in the undertaking.

So it was here. Jar Jar Binks was a risk of the greatest magnitude, and there was no reason to think that embracing such a risk would reap even the smallest reward.”

The Gungan muttered some more, all the while casting about through the viewport as if seeking a road sign that would allow him to at least pretend he knew what he was doing. Obi-Wan gritted his teeth. Stay out of it, he told himself sternly. Stay out of it.

“Here, take over,” he snapped at Jar Jar. He moved out of his seat to kneel close to Qui-Gon. “Master,” he said, unable to help himself, “why do you keep dragging these pathetic life-forms along with us when they are of so little use?”

Qui-Gon Jinn smiled faintly. “He seems that way now perhaps, but you must look deeper, Obi-Wan.”

“I’ve looked deep enough, and there is nothing to see!” Obi-Wan flushed with irritation. “He is an un-needed distraction!”

“Maybe for the moment. But that may change with time.” Obi-Wan started to say something more, but the Jedi Master cut him short. “Listen to me, my young Padawan. There are secrets hidden in the Force that are not easily discovered. The Force is vast and pervasive, and all living things are a part of it. It is not always apparent what their purpose is, however. Sometimes that purpose must be sensed first in order that it may be revealed later.”

Obi-Wan’s young face clouded. “Some secrets are best left concealed, Master.” He shook his head. “Besides, why must you always be the one to do the uncovering? You know how the Council feels about these … detours. Perhaps, just once, the uncovering should be left to someone else.”

Qui-Gon looked suddenly sad. “No, Obi-Wan. Secrets must be exposed when found. Detours must be taken when encountered. And if you are the one who stands at the crossroads or the place of concealment, you must never leave it to another to act in your place.”

Clone Wars Gambit Stealth

“Probably,” said Anakin, grinning again. “Right, let’s get settled in. The faster we can get through to the Temple and coordinate a battle plan, the faster we get Bant’ena away from Durd. Here—” He held out his glowing lightsaber. “Hold this for me.”

Troubled, Obi-Wan watched him as he unplugged a small desk lamp. “Anakin …”

“What?” said Anakin, dropping to his knees to set the lamp up again on the floor under the front counter. He looked over his shoulder—and his expression changed. He plugged the lamp in and switched it on, then sat back on his heels. His face was wary now, and his fists rested combatively on his thighs. “Obi-Wan, what?”

Obi-Wan wasn’t going to let himself be sidetracked by the tone. Deactivating the lightsaber, he tossed it back. “Anakin, don’t do this,” he said, as his former student caught the weapon and put it aside. “Don’t—” He took a moment to rein in his own temper. Fixing broken things is all very well—but not when we’re up to our armpits in a dangerous mission. “Qui-Gon used to do this. He used to roam around the galaxy picking up strays.”

“Like me, you mean?” said Anakin tightly. “Useless hangers-on like me?”

“You were never useless. Anakin, please, you must listen,” he insisted. “On almost every mission he and I went on we came across someone in trouble. Sometimes they’d brought it on themselves. Sometimes they were like Doctor Fhernan, victims of another being’s machinations. But there was always someone. And he would try to help them.”

“So?” said Anakin. “What’s wrong with that? He helped me. He saved me. And this is my way of paying him back for that. Every person I help or save is me saying thank you to Qui-Gon. Why do you have a problem with that?”

“I don’t,” Obi-Wan protested. And then, at Anakin’s look, he grimaced. “Well—yes, all right. I do. But not because it isn’t an admirable ambition. It is, Anakin. It’s admirable, it’s laudable, it shows you have a good heart. But—” He ran a hand over his beard, searching for the right words. “For one thing, we’re Jedi, not social workers. It’s not our job to collect the galaxy’s waifs and strays.”

Anakin’s chin came up, defiant. “Then it should be. What is the point of having all this power if we don’t use it to make people’s lives better?”

“But we do make people’s lives better! You know we do!” he retorted. “Right now the Jedi are dying to make people’s lives better. I can’t believe I need to remind you of that!”

“You don’t,” said Anakin, glowering. “And I’m not saying we should drop everything and devote all our time and resources to picking up strays. I’m not saying we should go looking for them, either. What I’m saying is that if we happen to fall over one we shouldn’t just—just pick ourselves up and keep on walking.”

“Oh, Anakin.” Sighing, he dropped cross-legged to the dusty carpet. “I know it’s hard. I know it seems cruel. But—”

“That’s because it is cruel, Obi-Wan,” Anakin snapped. “Cruel and unfeeling and unworthy of the Jedi Order.”

He was so like Qui-Gon. This was like arguing with a ghost. Don’t waste your breath, Obi-Wan. I will do what I must. “It rarely ends well, you know,” he said gently, willing Anakin to hear him, to believe him. “Entangling yourself in these transitory lives? And when it doesn’t end well, when you can’t save these people, when we can’t save Doctor Fhernan or her family or her unfortunate friends—”

“You don’t know we can’t save them. You’re giving up without even trying!”

“No, Anakin. I am not giving up. I am merely facing facts.” He hesitated, because what he wanted to say next was dangerous. On the other hand—it needed to be said. “Don’t misunderstand me. Your compassion is admirable. You are a truly good man. One of the very best I know. But you’re also a Jedi, and we cannot allow ourselves to become emotionally involved.” A deep breath. A sharp sigh. “Bant’ena Fhernan is not your mother.”

Anakin leapt to his feet. “You leave my mother out of this!”

“Anakin!” he hissed. “For pity’s sake, keep your voice down.”

Hard-breathing silence as Anakin struggled for self-control. And then he shook his head. “You don’t understand, Obi-Wan. You’ll never understand. You’ve never been a slave. You have no idea what it’s like to be completely helpless. To know your life could end at any moment on someone else’s whim.”

“That’s true,” he admitted. “But—”

“No. There is no but,” Anakin said flatly. “You’re wrong. Okay? You’re wrong. So just sit there and be wrong. Or get the other lamp set up. Or start looking for a comm hub so I can hopefully punch a signal through to the Temple. Do something, Obi-Wan. Do anything. Anything except try to tell me that I’m wrong. Because I’m not.”

Obi-Wan looked at Anakin, astonished. Ignoring him, Anakin turned away and began to rummage through an overstocked cupboard. So he did as he was told, and started setting up the second lamp.

My read of the situation is simply Shmi is not important enough for the Jedi to bother with and that lead to some of the problems.

In the epilogue of the Darth Plagueis novel Obi-Wan and Anakin visit Palpatine shortly after the victory celebration on Naboo on Coruscant and he realizes that Anakin will grow embittered as his mother ages in slavery. The freaking Sith Lord figures it would while the Jedi are just OMFG.

[Attack of the Clones reveals that sometime after Anakin left to become a Jedi, Shmi found herself freed from her enslavement to Watto, but tragically died later on due to the actions of some Tusken Raiders. Anakin came to her aid in her last moments, but was unable to save her, and his main hangup over what happened is indicated to be a belief that he could've saved her if only he'd been stronger.]

Jedi critical folks: The Jedi should've gone back and freed Shmi; that would've TOTALLY prevented her from randomly dying! Also, Anakin and Shmi not speaking for ten years was OBVIOUSLY because the Jedi forbade them from contacting each other, and he DEFINITELY came to resent the Jedi over that, nevermind that there's absolutely no evidence to support this in Lucas's works!

[dragonpyre]

Love being proven right about someone with rancid vibes. Feels like winning the karma lottery