#and then they either hate it later or already hate it

[lukedanger]

As you wish, @adorascake

WARNING: Spoilers for Arcane Season 2 Act III below and in the link.

Healing was never easy, nor was it always possible. And certain careers carried with it the risk of permanent harm.

Caitlyn had thought she had known that when she had enlisted as an Enforcer, even after having seem some of the injuries that had been picked up in the line of duty. A missing finger with a clockwork replacement here, scarred bodies and faces there, the occasional eyepatch. In hindsight it was clear how little she had actually understood, believing herself to either be untouchable or that she would just cope if it came.

In the grand scheme of things, Caitlyn had settled to simply mourn her lost eye and try to move on. Try to let it be a reminder to not allow herself to be blinded by vengeance. To take on the new challenge and rise to the occasion. And she had tried to put it into effect in the following years, striving to fix what had been broken - by herself, by her ancestors, or by her city.

A knock came at the door and Catilyn sighed, pulling the patch over her face. "Come in," she said as she turned to the door.

"Just me," Vi said as she opened the door and came into the study, a box in hand with a bow around it. "Got something to show you."

Caitlyn was intrigued, but had to stop herself from pulling up the relevant information in her mind. It was her obsession, one that had served them all so well but also meant that she always tried to figure out a surprise. She didn't want to ruin this for Vi, not with how proud of herself she looked.

Yet despite herself, the information creeping to the surface. Vi learning artifice and engineering at the Academy, to be more than the welcome pair of fists when someone threatened the fragile peace. Recent grants that Vi had ardently argued in favor of. Time she had insisted on being alone in her workshop, even giving up time together for it.

"Whatever you're working on, it's an obsession," Caitlyn had told her over dinner at Jericho's one night.

"Learned from the best," Vi had cheekily answered, and just in time Ekko had come by before the conversation could continue.

"So," Vi said in the present, setting down the box, "I know you keep telling me to think about myself, to stop hurting myself for others."

Caitlyn just nodded.

"And I know you don't like it when people fuss over you, and hate it when people suggest you use all this wealth for yourself."

That warranted a quirked eyebrow from her good eye.

"So, the reason I pushed for that eyetech grant was because..." Vi almost trailed off there, whatever she had rehearsed faltering as her knee started bouncing. "Ah, screw it. Open it, Cait."

Caitlyn obeyed as she undid the bow and lifted the cover, but she already had a strong feeling of what was in there that was confirmed a moment later.

A mechanical eye, master crafted by a skilled artificer. A blue crystalline lenses with a natural white sclera made up the visible front, while the back had a single chemtech adapter with a faint tint of electric green barely visible to the naked eye. It would require a surgeon to insert and connect, but if successful?

"You made this?" Caitlyn asked.

"I-" Vi hesitated. "Yes. Kinda. I did a lot of the drafting, helped make the body and designed the clockwork, but a lot of the tech..."

"Vi, was this why you've been running around Piltover and Zaun these past few months?"

"Past year, really. Cait, you've got all this wealth, and you've been trying to spend it to help everyone. I couldn't let you not spend at least a bit on yourself."

"Violet..."

"Shh," Vi's knee stopped shaking. "I know you don't want people to pity you for the eye. That you keep offering cogs to make sure everyone has a reason to beat you in shooting competitions. You keep telling me that I need to take care of myself too. Well, the same goes for you, doesn't it?"

It was all coming together now. "That was why you pushed so hard for Doctor Zeigler's ocular project. You wanted me to benefit from it."

"Yep. And it isn't just for you, Cait. We've made less fancy ones that can help people blinded by accidents in the fissures."

"So why not give me one of those, then?"

Vi grinned. "Two reasons: first, we've got those fancy galas to attend. Second? Well, let's just say this one may have a few special features that I think you'd like to have."

Caitlyn was about to ask, but decided against it. Vi knew she enjoyed a good mystery, and Caitlyn spent a good portion of the night thinking about it even as Vi was fast asleep knowing that soon her wife would be able to see her with both eyes again.

"It's a zoom function, isn't it?" Caitlyn had asked the next morning.

Violet simply grinned and put her hands in the air in mock surrender, even as she flexed her muscles. "You got me, Sherrif."

[extremely-judgemental]

This is the last time I talk about Elain (hopefully!). I honestly don’t understand where you’re getting the idea that she is sweet. Elain is polite, like ‘my neighbour is nice to me’ sort of way. That doesn’t warrant how everyone puts her on a pedestal.

Her actions are mostly glossed over as self-preservation, but that doesn’t seem right to describe her behaviour either. At least, not in a sympathetic way. I'm sure there’s going to be an overload of trauma to justify this, because how can SJM’s heroines have mere mediocre problems when they can be abused or have lost a loved one?

I digress. Ever since Nesta’s grooming came to light, the same is assumed about Elain—that she’s groomed to be ‘nice’. That’s not entirely true. Their mother and grandmother focus on Nesta because getting the eldest married well will bring more prospects for the other two. In their mother’s words, Elain needn’t worry because she is a born beauty, and so she is not trained in courtliness or politics. And, Feyre has enough liberty to lock herself in their father’s office. As a middle child, Elain chooses the ‘nice’ mask because it’s what gets her attention in a family full of stubborn heads—her mother, her grandmother, her sisters.

During their poverty years, even if she could do chores, it’s hard to believe Nesta let her given how much she coddles Elain. And, Feyre treats her like a fragile doll. Elain essentially enjoys the best of both worlds like her father without contributing much to the family. She benefits heavily from her sisters’ animosity against each other—she’s the kind one while the other is the bitch. She’s also quick to secure a marriage alliance right after they regain their wealth. This isn’t to say it wasn’t out of love, but the plot is set in somewhat medieval times, where the order in which the sisters marry is crucial—Elain already wed before the eldest leaves a mark on Nesta’s reputation, making it difficult for her to find suitors.

Elain goes her entire life without being blamed or hated by her family, or even the IC. To have gone through all those struggles, having done literally nothing, and still cherished by everyone? Kindness doesn’t buy you that kind of a pass. It’s not her fault that everyone puts her first, but it’s the result of the image she actively cultivates to achieve her means.

This is why the paintbrushes don’t hold much value either. She doesn’t make Feyre’s life easier or take away some of the burdens, but gives her presents and everything is okay between them? This comes off like love-bombing to me—making Feyre feel special so that Elain isn’t the villain. Which worked, as Nesta is the one called ungrateful. When you’re struggling and someone offers you a bit of joy and relief, it is impactful, and Elain’s gesture could have been that if she had contributed to the family. But now, it comes off as manipulation.

And here’s my issue with her betrayal in Silver Flames. No one gives two fucks about what she thinks is best for Nesta. The IC won’t sit around and wait till she’s convinced. If she decides to lock herself in her room and cry again, only Feyre might care a little. Until then, she’s never included in any major decisions and she’s too perceptive to not notice this. She doesn’t even have to side with Nesta, but to pack her things to send her away?

She even goes on to throw in a ‘you don’t have to be miserable’ when Nesta is being imprisoned with a man. Imagine Elain trapped with Lucien to get her out of her funk. Feyre violated Lucien’s mind when he asked for a few minutes alone with her. They were chaperoned by the entire family for one simple tea. Clearly, Elain is not so stupid as to not know what she’s implying. She lets Nesta suffer not out of self-preservation but because she, like Feyre, believes Nesta is hopeless.

Later, she manipulates Nesta into scrying and insults her in front of everyone who hates her. She blames her ‘invisibility’—she crafted for herself—on others. It isn’t about her owning her life, because she could have done the scrying right away without that conversation with Nesta. And it’s not about protecting herself from the IC. Her outburst felt more like her resentment, that she couldn’t handle losing her shield.

There are many who want Elain to stand up to the IC, but the thing is, she has no reason to. When none of her actions are held against her, what would she fight for? The IC’s behaviour is borderline psychotic with Nesta to prove she wouldn’t be welcomed into the family unless she becomes reputable enough to be Feyre’s sister and Cassian’s mate. In Elain’s case, she is already forgiven and accepted.

Though it still falls under the broad term, her self-preservation carries heavy undertones of selfishness and manipulation. It is not even a survival response triggered under pressure. Most of her life, Elain never has to make big choices. She always gets what she wants without lifting a finger. No responsibility at home, more attention from family, the only one to receive her father’s love, her engagement to Graysen, going to Graysen for help, being left alone during the battles, having her own gardens in Velaris, learning to cook, leading a simple life, to be away from Lucien, pursuing Azriel. When exactly is she ever denied in the first place to preserve her happiness?

Also, Elain is definitely not a helpless doe. She is an opportunist. Her ‘kindness’ is a mask to escape scrutiny from others when she neglects her responsibilities. It serves her too since ‘Elain is Elain’.

And that’s fine because these flaws add layers to her character and there’s room for growth. But when the narrative ignores them and paints her as an angel because it supports the glorified hero, that is wrong. We see it happen with Feyre, Rhysand, and the Inner Circle. Elain is underdeveloped, yet she shows prominent traits at major plot points and still is considered ‘sweet’. At this rate, she’s just going to be another bland cutout who can never do anything wrong and is universally loved (like Feyre).

On the other hand, all this masking, the cunning, and the pettiness are great agents for her obvious future bonding with Rhysand who is quite similar. But her true nature has to be acknowledged first, which is clearly not happening in the narrative or the fandom.

There are obvious issues to be resolved in Elain’s character—shedding these traits and loving others without exploitation—but the focus will be on what SJM deems worthy for her plot. Elain went from being content to staying in the background, tending to her gardens, and creating beauty to wanting to step out of her sisters’ shadows. Though she never gave that vibe, it will be shoved down our throats because these leads need to be badasses. At this point, she has more chances of turning into another Feyre with her ‘coming out of the shell’ journey because that’s the only way women can grow in this series. I don’t like Elain the way I don’t like Feyre, Rhysand, or Cassian. She is, and will likely never be, held accountable for anything she does. Nesta has self-awareness, her flaws are portrayed as such, and she makes amends for her mistakes because that allows Feyre to be right again. But what reason does Elain have to be better when she hasn’t done anything wrong until now?

[ifyesterdayistooheavy]

Here are my thoughts from a person who watched arcane 1 when it came out, but never entered fandom spaces:

1. Agree

2. Depends on what you mean (pretty gold lady: forgive I forgot most of their names lol) really felt unfinished. So much so I was shocked when I heard there wouldn’t be a series 3

3. I did notice that. I thought it was intentional. Most of the characters didn’t really know here besides jinx, who wasn’t gonna talk about her. But still. Not cool

4. I agree kinda, it felt natural for the conflict to abate but them coming in later to help didn’t feel earned/wasnt impactful

5. I didn’t really care about the j/c/v hate triangle, and I never really got jinx’s hatred of her. The jealousy was flat and uninteresting. Didn’t mind when they kinda dropped it. Yes I agree their ending was not satisfying, but I can’t even imagine what a satisfying resolution could look like

6. Completely agree

7. Sevika is silcos guard right? Ah she was always the broody top henchman character. Her boss was gone and her main rival didn’t want to play ball. No other characters she interacts with are interesting. So I don’t know what she would be doing

8. Maddie was a filler character to enhance the background in different. The only reason you care about her is because she dated a main character and had a betrayal scene. If you’re saying the betrayal scene wasn’t impactful enough to exist then ya know true.

9. All of the silco introductions were��� a bit jarring. But I like his voice sooooo I’m cool with it. Catvi sexy times were unnecessary, but so was the Herero version back in season 1 so I don’t think it’s a valid complaint. I don’t know what you’re talking about with their ending scenes being fanfiction. Every time vi calls her cupcake I cringe. This also started in season 1

10 I think they just wanted cait to have a permanent viewable injury after a war. To show lasting damages. Limbs ripped off is a bit gorey and eyepatches are sexy.i think you’re looking too much into the significance. If Alfred loses an eye in the telltale Batman game, they’re not trying to tell you Alfred is less observant now, except literally. It’d be cool if the injury did do this tho, I see why you would want that.

11. For someone to sneak past vis guard to get her to join up with them? I don’t get it either. Maybe there was a dropped plot or something

12. I think Maddie was supposed to show ambessa as being a fox. Along with those magical spell tags. She could have been a better fox tho

13. Mel! That’s the pretty gold lady right? I was glad there was a mage character buttttt like I said earlier it feels unfinished

14…… I did like this season less than season one.. that’s probably a main reason why. The show talks like it’s political but this season definitely didn’t feel like it

15. I have never played lol so I don’t agree.

1. Nope. Not a fan. Cupcake cringe. The Rachel and Ross of the series. Really not my thing.

2. See it should’ve been but all I could think was I’ve already seen this with madoka Magica. And just like in madoka, it didn’t hit hard. The Astro stuff is just… too magical girl? I can’t take it seriously

3. Yes

4. Did they? It didn’t feel like they did. Isn’t Warwick victors scientist teacher?

5. What was occ? The suicide? The team up with echo? The second suicide or her rachenbach falls moment?

6. I have no idea what you’re talking about lol the prison scene? The end scene? Again not my fav so ehh

my head's a bit clearer, some thoughts about act 3

-my biggest gripe is episode 7- cool idea, love the concept of peaking into a different universe and seeing what our characters couldve been under different circumstances, but a WHOLE episode. when you only had 9 episode in this season, that already feel like theyre moving at a neck's pace. for a universe that ultimately doesn't matter to the main universe where the story takes place. the fact it had timebomb made it feel extremely fan service-y.

-no emotional resolution to a lot of characters. viktor and jayce are the only ones i can think of that felt like they got the screen time and care for an actual emotional closure.

-isha wasn't even mentioned in this act. in general she was already a martyr for jinx's character development but guys can you make it less obvious.

-it started in act 2, hence why i was so jaded on it, but it continues here: just where the fuck the political drama between 2 cities go? the conflict between zaun and piltover took a back seat since episode 4 and never came back. the resolution to it isn't bad per say, but when u got so little focus on it in the finale it just feels rushed.

-i loved the cait and jinx scene. but like, that was the resolution to it??? after act 1 thinking about it disappoints me. im not against a conversation being the climax to a story, but that is, and im not joking, the ONLY conversation these 2 have in the show one on one. in general the jinx\cait\vi arc ends with 1 conversation per duo (well caitvi got one fight and one very steamy sex scene but u won't catch me complaining). and after act 1, idk i think i wanted just a little bit more. im biased though- the jinx\vi\caitlyn dynamic is my favorite part about arcane. the teasers for s2 always had them front and center so i assumed it'll play a bigger part in the story???

-i felt like what the show was at its core, which is the conflict between the sisters and the cities, was completely sidelined this season. in general i can't really tell what the main theme of the show is anymore. but yeah look at the resolution to the jinx and vi story.did it feel like it had the emotional impact u expected? cause i felt like it was underwhelming.

-sevika?? didnt speak since episode 4???? huhh???

-maddie was pointless. why was she there?? i don't understand the point of that character. i dont understand her motives. she ended up not mattering at all to caitvi's story. the only thing i got from her inclusion is "caitlyn fucks" but is it that THAT important??? of a character trait??? to add to caitlyn of all people?? in THIS season??? this belongs in the realm of fanfiction.

-a lot here felt like fanfiction actually. every silco inclusion (except of him in the cell with jinx), the whole "nobody dies au" they threw in the middle, even the caitvi sex scene (IM NOT COMPLAINING THO). the caitvi scene at the end was dialog out of fanfiction, wtf was that.

-why did caitlyn lose her eye? im not like against the idea on a base level but losing an eye is very symbolic, and im not sure what its supposed to represent here. caitlyn is an observant person, its a big character trait for her. so youre basically saying she sees less now? that she's more laser focused? i sure hope not. wasnt her whole arc with giving up of revenge about seeing the "bigger picture"? her sacrifice didn't feel in character, because caitlyn is not really a "fight to the death" type of character like ambessa is. if she made that sacrifice for something like love, or for the betterment of other people, that would be more in line. idk, you couldve made me on board with it but im just very meh on it. also caitlyn only really emotes through her eyes, it sucks that we get even less of it now?? though i guess it doesnt matter at this point.

-what was the point of the enforcer that looked like vander?

-ambessa was so wasted in these last 2 acts its crazy. where's the "you have to be the fox and the wolf" mindset from her? she felt like she was wolfing only with no wit anymore by the 3rd act.

-mel????????????? it was. uhhh. maybe you shouldve saved it for another series, riot. but in this show, waste of time. the fight she had with caitlyn against ambessa was cool tho.

-i sound like im a hater but u have to understand. s1 of arcane was a political drama and a character study show. seeing all this discarded for magic and time travel shenanigans on like 4 different fronts was so jarring it took me out of the show multiple times.

-cant believe im saying that, but i wish they'd try to stick closer to the characters' current state in the source material (the cursed game). someof it felt out of left field and done for shock value, which isn't why we love the story or these characters to begin with.

good stuff:

-caitvi sex lmao ill take it babyyyyy

-jayce and viktor's scenes at the end were powerful.

-as usual, the visuals were phenomenal. the animation is gorgeous. fortiche u made this show what it is and youre still its saving grace.

-thank god they dropped the warwick\vander plot

-i liked the implication of the conclusion to jinx's story, even if it felt a little inconsistent with the character.

-the ending to jinx\vi\caitlyn was poetic and i did love it, even if it was rushed and didn't really hit the emotional highs i wanted it to.

[lunarflux]

x: Thomas Shelby found his match in an information bookie who has eluded the grasp of the Peaky Blinders long enough to crumble their power over Birmingham. But at last, he found you. The ghost he'd been chasing was finally in front of him, but you were trickier than he expected. Dangerous, cunning - and a bit too much like himself. To buy your loyalty, he would have to sell his in equal measure. Loyalty for loyalty - blood for blood - how much were either of you willing to spill before the game changed entirely?

part 13: a red aftermath

word count: 2,363

tag: @bruhidkjustwannaread

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John carried you into the Garrison, and immediately, Tommy and Finn met you halfway, their eyes landing on the bloodied mess of your figure.

They laid you out on a table in the back room, away from the windows and the smoke-streaked walls. Arthur and John moved with a surprising mixture of urgency and care, stripping your bloodstained coat off and revealing the ugly red wounds just above your hip and below your collar.

Arthur swore under his breath, examining the injury closely. “They shot you good, didn’t they?”

Your managed a weak nod, the effort draining more of what little energy you had left.

John met Tommy’s eyes over your body. “We need to get the bullets out.”

“Christ,” Arthur muttered, moving to fetch whiskey and bandages from behind the bar. “This is a fucking mess. Finn, you need to get home now. You shouldn't be watching this.”

Tommy didn’t look at you, focusing instead on his fingers working the gunshot wound with careful precision. He could feel the heat of your skin under his fingers, the slick, sticky blood, the sharp pain of the bullet pressing against bone. It was a reminder of just how close you’d come to dying tonight. And he hated that it made something twist tight in his chest, a sensation he didn’t want to name.

You hissed through clenched teeth, your eyes darting toward the ceiling. “Tommy—”

His jaw tightened as you grabbed his wrist, your grip teeming with desperation and fear—fear of the pain and of the aftermath. He wanted to ignore you, just enough to focus on the task at hand, but when he looked up, your eyes met his with a silent plea. You weren't ready. No one would ever be ready for death, but right now, you weren't ready for any of it.

"Arthur, get Jimmy over here now," Tommy commanded firmly, and minutes later Arthur returned with the priest at his side.

Tommy helped you sit upright, taking your face into his hands. He spoke to you gently, "He's going to get the bullets out. It's going to hurt. I'm not going to lie to you, y/n, you're going to feel all of it. You've gotta stay still, and let him work."

You hastily nodded, and while you didn't respond, Tommy still felt the desperation in your grip.

Tommy steadied you. He held the back of your neck, bracing his forehead against yours. His eyes locked on you as if silently saying, Look at me. Just me. No one else is here.

Your screams erupted throughout the Garrison as Jimmy pinched at the open wound in your shoulder, but Tommy wouldn't allow you to break free. He watched helplessly as tears streamed down your face, and he prayed that someway he could take the pain and feel it for you. His hand slowly grew numb.

Jimmy dug into the wound until the bullet hit the table.

Arthur shot him a sideways look, muttering, “There's one more.”

The room fell silent. Jimmy reached for the edge of your shirt and whispered just loudly enough for you and Tommy to hear. "We need to take this off."

You shut your eyes tight. Despite the obviously terrible condition you were already in, the last of your defenses were about to be ripped away. You'd be exposed in a way that would never be comfortable or welcome.

As if he heard the discourse in your mind, Tommy tore away from you, looking sharply at John and Arthur.

"We need privacy."

John shot a sharp glance at Arthur. ��We'll go back to the shop. See what we can salvage. The boys should have managed the fire by now.”

When Tommy turned back to you, you were struggling to unbutton your shirt with one hand. With tear-stained cheeks, you cried silently. Tommy put his hand on yours, easing it away as he carried out the burden for you. He slipped the garment off your arms and carefully folded it. Once you were exposed, he nodded to Jimmy.

Jimmy took a deep breath. "Sit behind her, and hold her still. You need to keep pressure on the other wound."

Tommy moved, positioning so you could brace yourself against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and pressed his palm firmly on your shoulder. You winced but soon felt the relief in the warmth of his hand.

He held his lips to your temple with his eyes closed as Jimmy worked on you. Every shiver, every whimper and gasp—it molded into his chest. The trembles and the aches—like he was feeling the pain with you.

When it was finally over, you were limp in Tommy's arms. Whether it was from pain or exhaustion, he didn't know, but still, he held you as you drifted off until you were breathing softly against his chest.

The hardest part was cleaning the wound, and he knew better than anyone how that burn lingered long after the bullets were gone.

Jimmy sighed as he leaned forward, elbows propped up against his knees. He held the two bullets in his hands tightly. "She was lucky, Tom. She came really close. The second one nearly missed the lung."

Tommy didn't respond. He just held you while you slept, unwilling to disturb the moment of peace even if it was for relieving news.

He cleared his throat. "I need to take her to Arrow House. Safer there."

"She will need to rest. She needs to heal."

Tommy nodded softly. He stood, carrying you with him with your bloodied jacket draped over your shoulders.

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

The room was dark, save for the faint glow of moonlight seeping through the heavy curtains. You shifted under the covers, a sharp jolt of pain radiating from your side. The breath hitched in you throat, and you bit back a groan.

Your eyes blinked open, adjusting to the dim light. The rich wooden beams overhead and the faint scent of cigars reminded you that this wasn't the Garrison. You didn't remember the drive to Arrow House. The brothers had insisted you stay here to recover—ordered it, more like.

Another stab of pain wracked your side quickly followed by your shoulder, and you let out a low curse. Moving carefully, you forced herself upright, fingers brushing against the bandages beneath the large shirt that John haphazardly left for you. The room spun slightly, and you steadied yourself against the headboard.

The sound of footsteps outside the door startled you. A faint knock followed before it creaked open, revealing Arthur’s disheveled form. His brow furrowed when he saw you sitting up, clearly in discomfort.

“Could hear you movin’ about from down the hall,” he muttered, stepping inside. “You alright?”

You tried to muster your usual sharpness but found it dulled by exhaustion. “I’m fine, Arthur. Go back to bed.”

“Don’t look like you’re fine,” John chimed in, appearing in the doorway behind his brother. His hair was ruffled, and he wore a skeptical expression.

“I don’t need an audience,” you said, though your voice lacked its usual bite.

Arthur crossed his arms. “You took a bullet, y/n. Actually, you took two. Don’t think you’re walkin’ this one off without us keepin’ an eye on you.”

Before you could protest further, Tommy’s voice cut through the quiet. “That’s enough.”

Both brothers turned as Tommy stepped into the room, his gaze flicking between you. His face was unreadable, but his tone left no room for argument. “Go back to your rooms. I’ll handle it.”

Arthur hesitated, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You sure? She’s lookin’ worse than she did yesterday.”

Tommy shot him a pointed look. “I said I’ll handle it.”

John exchanged a glance with Arthur, then shrugged. “Alright, Tom. We'll be nearby. Doubt we'll be able to go back to sleep anyway.”

With that, the two brothers disappeared down the hall, their footsteps fading into the distance.

You glared at Tommy, though the effect was weakened by the pale sheen of sweat on your forehead. “Come to chide me for my foolishness?”

Tommy ignored your attempt to rile him up, crossing the room to pour a glass of water from the decanter on the nightstand. He held it out to you. “Drink.”

You wanted to argue, but the dryness in your throat answered first. When you took the glass, your fingers brushed his briefly. The cool water was a relief, but it did little to ease the knot of tension building in the room.

“You should be resting,” he said softly, though no less firm.

“I was,” you shot back, setting the empty glass down. “I do not control how a body heals, even less so, my own.”

Tommy sat down in the chair near the window, his movements deliberate. “At least, you're healing. Could be worse.”

“How comforting,” you muttered, leaning back against the pillows. "Good to see your conversation skills don't falter even in the face of a woman freshly debilitated."

You glanced at Tommy, noticing how the dim light softened his sharp features. He looked tired, though you doubted he’d admit it.

“Why are you still here?” you asked finally.

“To make sure you don’t do anything stupid. I'm sure, even in your current state, you'd try to crawl out the window at the first opportunity.”

You huffed a quiet laugh, though it sent a ripple of pain through your nerves. “Am I that predictable?”

“To me, you are.”

His words hung in the air, neither biting nor soft. You didn’t have a retort for once. You let your head fall back and stared up at the ceiling.

“You shouldn’t care,” you said after a moment, her voice low. “About me, I mean. This whole ordeal wasn't about you.”

Tommy leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I could say the same to you. Then again, I could remind you, it's just business.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line. Of course, he would throw your words back at you, but he was only able to do so because it was no longer true. Not that it really ever was.

He stood abruptly, smoothing his hands over his vest. “Get some rest. You’ll need it.”

As he turned to leave, you spoke quietly. “Thank you.”

Tommy paused in the doorway, his hand on the frame. He didn’t look back. The door closed behind him, and you were left alone with the shadows, the aches, and the undeniable realization that you were both too far in to turn back now.

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The ache in your side dulled to a persistent throb, but it was enough to pull you from sleep once again. You groaned softly, shifting against the pillows as you tried to find a more comfortable position. The clock on the nightstand read just past two in the morning, and the house was silent except for the faint creaking of wood beneath the wind.

This time, you didn’t bother trying to move. The thought of waking anyone—especially Tommy—seemed far less troublesome than an ache. Your breath hitched as the pain struck again. You pushed your face into one of the pillows, hoping the cushion would muffle your swears.

A moment later, the door creaked open.

Tommy watched you for a moment. His face was shadowed in the dim light, but his presence was unmistakable.

“You're still uncomfortable,” he said simply, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

“You’re making a habit of keeping an eye on me when its least wanted,” you mumbled, sinking back into the pillows.

Tommy didn’t reply, instead crossing the room to sit in the chair by the window. His movements were calm, deliberate, as if he’d planned this. You wondered how long he'd been awake or if he'd slept at all. For all you knew, he could have been sitting just outside your door, waiting until he heard you stir.

“You should be resting,” he said, echoing his words from the night before.

“Déjà vu,” you groaned, but there was no real bite in your tone.

Tommy’s gaze flicked to your bandaged side, his expression unreadable. “How bad is it?”

“I'm sure you've been shot at before, so you've heard it all. It’s manageable.”

“That why you’re awake?”

“Why are you awake?”

Tommy leaned back in the chair. “I don’t sleep much. And I wasn't going to let you pretend like you didn't need someone's help. Even if the only help I could offer was my own.”

“You didn’t need to come.”

“I know,” he said quietly.

You didn’t like this, this quiet attention he gave you. It made you feel seen in a way you weren't ready to accept or acknowledge as genuine.

“I don’t like being looked after,” you said finally, voice softer than intended.

“I’ve noticed.”

You couldn’t help the faint smirk that tugged at your lips. “Tommy Shelby, you see right through me.”

He didn’t respond right away, his gaze drifting to the floor for a moment. “You’ve been on your own for a long time. It shows.”

“I manage.”

“Barely."

Your eyes narrowed, but the fight drained from you quickly. You were too tired, too raw to argue. “I was fine before you. I'll be fine after you're long gone. Such is life.”

The words were cold, but the way he stayed, the way he watched you so closely, told you he wouldn't leave even if logic told her there was no reason for him to. The silence fell again, but this time it felt different. Less tense, more fragile. You leaned back against the pillows, you eyelids growing heavier despite the pain.

“You don’t have to stay,” you said softly, voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” Tommy replied, his voice steady.

But he didn’t leave.

Instead, he stayed in the chair by the window, his presence a quiet reassurance in the darkness. You let your eyes close, the sound of his even breathing lulling you into a restless sleep. And though you wouldn’t admit it, the knowledge that he was there, that he cared enough to stay, brought you a comfort you hadn’t felt in years.

[wiltyard]

fall once more | tf: earthspark

masterlist ch: 01 [you are here] started on: 12/2022 chapter posted on: 11/25/2024 REMINDER: This is a reader-insert/oc-insert. Ero is YOU.

"Alright, until GHOST figures out what to do with our new...friend here..." Ero had already tuned out their conversation by then, zoning out as their gaze wandered to the trees across the clearing. They’ve heard of this conversation before. How nice of them to treat them so well after everything they’ve done.

Ero didn’t have a concrete vision of their future, not that they didn’t want one, just that they couldn’t. Every waking moment was either filled with pain, tests, check-ups, or whatever task Dr. Meridian had thrown them. They never had the privilege to hope, and dream.

Even if things were different if they did have the time—hard emphasis on if—whatever future they would have envisioned then would still be nothing compared to the life they have now.

Dr. Meridian is gone. That is something they haven’t processed properly yet, and it was something they wouldn’t even dare think of back then. He was a constant in their life, for the longest time, and for him to just disappear like that, it's hard to make peace with, even if he wasn’t exactly a source of comfort or happiness.

Maybe he abandoned them, who knows? They don’t want to think about it. Because then they’d have to acknowledge that the thought bothers them. Being abandoned, thrown away.

Could they call this place a home? Maybe not, they’ll get kicked out in a week or two, they’re not exactly hopeful about sticking around, nor do they want to stay here. Where they’d go afterward, they don’t know but they’ll make do.

One thing they missed from their past routine was having so much to do and little time to think. The more they think, the more they spiral, the more they doubt, and the more they feel confused. Maybe they'll ask later if they could have something to do. But again, not hopeful.

Dorothy eyed them from a distance, watching them closely. It didn’t go unnoticed, it’s hard not to when the feeling of holes being burned on the back of your head is difficult to ignore. They had to get used to the staring at some point, that too was difficult. If it’s not Dorothy, it’s the children, if it’s not the children, Alex, if not any of the humans or the Terrans, it’s one of the Autobots.

It's not that they don't understand why they're acting like this. Ero would do the same thing, at least they think so. But…they still hate the staring. 

Ero of course has to pretend they don’t notice it. It’d be more uncomfortable for them than they already are to turn and stare back at whoever was watching them. Think about it, to hold the gaze of someone who clearly isn’t fond of your company, and maybe they don’t all feel that way, but still.

Just imagining it was enough to discomfort them as they shifted their posture a little, crossing and uncrossing their arms, fiddling with the fabric of their clothes that were so generously donated to them, they can't help but feel bothered by the weight of it, whether it's the weight of the clothes or….the guilt of everything. That, they’re not sure of. And they’d rather not let it consume them.

Eventually, Dorothy turned her attention to the leader of the Autobots, asking a question in a voice too low for Ero to hear, but loud enough to catch snippets of whatever she said to Optimus. “....Optimus...sure...safe?...the kids.”

Ero tilted their head a little, not too much to make it obvious that they were looking, but enough to catch a glimpse of Dorothy nodding to the children. The human children and the Terrans that Ero should’ve been paying attention to in the first place. They realized a bit too late that the kids in question were approaching them, a group of four, four too many. And before Ero could even think of fleeing, the Malto children had already closed in much to their dismay, now throwing out more questions at Ero than they could answer.

One thing Ero had to learn the hard way was they were quite terrible at socializing with other humans, especially with kids. They even told Optimus this when he asked them what they were looking forward to experiencing on their way to the Malto family’s residence, completely ignoring the question at all because what is there to look forward to?

“I don’t know. Is there anything to look forward to?” They added after, asking in a monotone manner with their gaze unfocused. Optimus could remember that moment clearly because of the almost melancholic tone to their voice.

Back to the present, Optimus watched the entire scene unfold before him, and despite the looks and glances Ero shot at him, almost asking him to help them. He only gave them a look back, silently telling them that he had no intentions of interfering. This crushed whatever hope they had to be taken out of the situation, given the way their shoulders slumped in defeat.

No doubt he believed they needed this as “exposure therapy”, or something along those lines, they really don’t need it. But whatever makes him feel satisfied. They’ll just think of this as an order, a task given to complete, yes, that’s right. They’ll get through this, this is easy.

“I heard from Optimus you’re technically not human anymore! How does it feel? Do you eat human food? If you eat, does it still come out the other way一?”

They suppressed the urge to hit themselves. Knowing if they did, they might have to deal with another lecture about proper social etiquette. Whatever that means.

Optimus on the other hand, Optimus was sure they weren't a danger to the children. What he had observed while Ero was under his care was enough confirmation and reassurance for his thoughts about them. However, what he thought of Ero and what they were capable of was different from what the others thought of them. To the others, they were someone who had put their friends and family at risk, Dr. Meridian’s child.

Megatron had openly detested Ero, the potential danger they posed to the Malto family, and Dorothy's family, and endangering them was more than enough reason for him to dislike them even if that made him a hypocrite due to his history.

The Terrans? After risking their human siblings' lives? Let's say it'll take much longer for them to warm up, much less even trust Ero. This shows in the way they hovered closely next to Mo and Robby while throwing in their questions. Twitch and Thrash weren't exactly...fond of them either. Curious, sure, but trust Ero? Ha. No.

The blue and red mech sighs, taking a while before he finally nods to answer Dot’s question. The look on her face though was enough for him to understand she wasn't happy with just a nod. She wanted a verbal, direct, answer. An answer that for once the leader of the Autobots couldn't give.

Optimus wished their new friend at least tried to seem more…friendly, and easy to get along with, but he knew better than to hope. With their short time under his watch, he knew they’d have trouble integrating themselves back into society, while also giving the others a hard time, albeit unintentionally.

Still, he was already bracing himself for the numerous headaches he'll have to deal with in the near future, no doubt brought by Ero, maybe not directly because of them, but because of what the others had to say. Just the thought of what's to come was enough to tire him.

His eyes were now on the ground, then turned to look at Dorothy again. "Yes. It is safe, for now, you and your family are not alone nor will we let anything happen to you alone. I swear to you, Dorothy."

She still wasn't convinced, but... she decided to trust him on this. He has never intentionally put them in danger after all. Trouble just...finds them.

In truth, Optimus is still unsure of what compelled him to decide taking Ero under the Autobots', and of course the Maltoses' wings. Even if the rest of them believed Ero was far more trouble than they were worth. But, to leave them at the mercy of Earth's governments, someone who no doubt would catch many people's attention, the wrong people’s attention, he thought of it as too cruel.

Maybe it's because of how far the cruelty of human beings could go for the sake of progress, innovation, or even just at a shot of power or immortality, that they could be subjected to even more experiments. Knowing what they know about Ero, what they had endured while affiliated and being in Dr. Meridian's company, wasn't that enough punishment? Their mere existence, what they’ve been turned into, what they became, isn't it enough?

And if he were to even bring his thoughts up to them, he knew they wouldn't share the sentiment. Ero would try to appreciate it with what little understanding they have of these types of emotions, with emphasis on "try", but then immediately, almost comically, try to prove him wrong with their thoughts.

Maybe if they weren't so unused to human emotions, they would have initially scoffed at him, waving it off as they barked out an almost condescending laugh, perhaps garnering some narrowed and questionable stares from whoever was in earshot, hearing the conversation. While holding much respect for Optimus, they would have believed his opinions regarding them as stupid, or his sympathy misplaced.

He’s seen the way Ero reacted to pity, sympathy, and anything that involved consideration and concern for them, of the many things Ero could control, it’s their body language and expressions when faced with emotions foreign to them that they could not. It seemed that they did not like pity, at least directed at them.

When asked, all they could answer with was; “It’s unpleasant.”

Or...the way their eyes would look. So, downcast, full of...something. He knew it was strange somewhat, knowing Ero’s history, some of it at least, one could say it was alien to them.

He turns once he feels Megatron’s presence next to him, the bot in question crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes at the kids and Ero. Without turning, he starts; “If you're wrong about this Prime—”

“Yes, I know.” He doesn't let him finish, he doesn't need to. He knows Megatron���s uncertainty and distrust was from a place of concern. He was quiet, a beat passed, then two before he turned to Megatron. “...you should spend some time with Ero. Perhaps it could prove useful in your assessment of them.”

Megatron huffs at that idea, he wasn't happy with it. Ero is no little birdy. But he’s not turning him down immediately so there's a chance. “You’ll find you share more things in common with them than you think.”

Maybe it's the way Optimus’ voice lost its initial edge, the way it grew soft because Megatron found himself considering it. The things this bot could convince him to do, and he’d find a way to justify it just for Optimus. And it’s not like it’dhurt to try. “Fine.”

Optimus didn't say anything back, he didn't need to. The smile on his face was enough for Megatron to know he was pleased with that answer. He only rolled his optics at him as he walked off. He’ll monitor their little prisoner another day, not today. “I have a recon mission to get to, I’ll see you around Optimus.”

He transformed into his alt-mode, and with that, he was off as Optimus watched behind until he was out of sight. He sighs, then turns to check on Ero, finding them alone and giving him an apologetic look as they wave at him. Only then does he realize he has the children’s attention, seeing them make their way toward him.

“You had a tinier version of you in your trailer?!” Twitch exclaimed, exasperated, before pointing an accusatory finger at him. “AND YOU USED IT AS A SCOUT??? WHY DOES ERO KNOW ABOUT THIS BUT NOT US?”

Watching them throw so many questions at him, not even letting him have a word in, Ero almost felt bad. Still, they figured it was better to just get their attention elsewhere, to anyone, just not them. What better way than to bring up something Optimus told them?

It wasn’t anything sensitive, something interesting, and something most had no clue about the big guy. Something Optimus thought would help distract Ero when he somehow figured out that they were nervous. And to this day Ero has no clue how he found that out, they’re not gonna ask. The thought that someone just sees through them, “understood” them in a way… didn’t feel as nice as it should.

With that, they took this as their chance to slip away from the group, from the kids, and hid behind the other side of the barn. Once out of the others’ sight, they sat down and allowed themselves to finally relax.

Throwing their head back, they closed their eyes and audibly sighed. Taking in the sounds of nature—the rustling leaves, the cows, the birds—and, along with the distant voices, the kids’ numerous questions. Optimus was doing his best to answer all of them while attempting to calm Twitch’s momentary anger.

While confusing for Ero to witness, these people’s dynamics felt comfortable and warm, a stark contrast to the bitter cold they were used to. From heated glares to concerned gazes. Threats to soft-spoken encouragement. From dark, bleak, and cold rooms to the open and sunny outdoors.

Ero opens their eyes, staring at the sky that’s now tinted with pink as the sun sets in the distance. It was peaceful. They’re not used to it, admittedly.

“You’re as slippery as a quantum drift.” A voice suddenly spoke up behind them.

Ero immediately tensed once they heard his voice. Of course, it was Bumblebee. The ever-friendly yellow Autobot.They’ve met long before, but not in the best circumstances—the whole working for Dr. Meridian thing and everything else in between.

Once they saw that familiar yellow, they unconsciously relaxed just a tiny bit. They don’t know how to personally feel about him. Their past interactions with him weren’t all…that bad. Sure he was talkative, and said too much, but he tried to be friendly with them. Tried to talk instead of resorting to violence or trying to hurt them as most did.

Bumblebee tried reasoning with them. And, well, he was right to make that call.

They still have no clue how to feel about Bumblebee, or any of them to be honest. He was friendly, but too friendly that they wanted to lump him with every other well-meaning but ultimately shallow individual they’ve ever met in this lifetime. 

Still, something in Bumblebee’s tone made them pause. Something that reminded them of the strange, uncomfortable warmth they sometimes felt in their chest, when the sunlight hit the surface of their crystalline body just right. It felt too much like hope.

Despite the not-so-unpleasant experiences they had with him, it didn’t erase the unease Ero had about him (or anyone to be honest). They know better than most, the friendliest faces are often the most dangerous. Or maybe they’re just jumping to conclusions and he is just a friendly face. Still, they’d rather take their chances with assuming wrong about him than putting their already fragile sense of safety at risk. But what risk?

These people have been nothing but kind to them. Even when they don’t ever need to be. They had every right to treat them like they were nothing but the dirt beneath their feet, and yet, despite the cautiousness each of them had whenever interacting with Ero, they could sense even just the slightest concern in their voices.

“...I could say the same to you.” Ero’s tone was steady, they straightened their back, feeling the weight of their crystalline form shift ever so slightly. It wasn’t comfortable, this body they were forced to inhabit, but it was theirs. And as of now, no possible way of changing back.

They clearly weren’t happy with his intrusion. It was obvious he was there to check on them to see what they were doing, but he could’ve done it from a distance, no need to actually talk to them. What do they even have to say to him anyway? Nothing.

Bumblebee’s expression shifted a little, sensing they wouldn’t just let down their walls around him that easily, and he'd tried a bunch of times. If what he’s heard of them was correct, then, maybe they weren’t that bad. Just need to get through that tough exterior they built up.

“Well, what can I say, can’t be the best scout of the Autobots if I can’t slip in and out of places like that.” He grinned, leaning against the barn wall, and this time, Ero only gave him a side glance, before turning away again. His grin faltered a little. Tough crowd?

“You distracting the kids like that, getting their attention on Optimus instead so you’d be able to leave—pretty clever. You could be a pretty good scout, too, you know.” He tried again, his voice was a bit softer now, none of that banter he usually carried. The banter never worked anyway, Ero only ever reacted to the words, never the tone, never the nuances. They were always so careful.

And Ero, once again, barely reacted, their gaze hardened as they turned away again. That compliment landed somewhere between confusion and just plain discomfort. It’s not that Bumblebee was wrong, it’s just that his words didn’t reach them. Nothing could. At least for now. They’ve only been here a couple of days after all, and only today were they allowed to interact with the rest of the Malto family. He can’t blame them for being distant. But he’d hoped they’d at least…open up a little.

Before his run-ins with Ero, he’s heard rumors here and there about them, apparently from Decepticons who escaped Mandroid’s grasp. How they did it with a little help from someone inside, Dr. Estes Meridian heard of these rumors himself, but never once thought it would be his own child.

“...thanks.” They finally spoke up before going silent again. It’s a bit difficult to read Ero now that he thought about it. Outside of what they’re willing to talk about, their actions, they’re relatively…blank. If that makes any sense. As in, if there’s nothing that pushes them to do something, they don’t do anything, they don’t say anything. Speaks-when-spoken-to kinda deal but also in terms of actions, situations.

Bumblebee sighed internally, while he may not have achieved his goal of getting Ero to open up, them responding back was enough progress, right? Maybe tomorrow will be different. If not, then maybe the next day after that.

“Slippery as a quantum drift.” → “Slippery as a fox.”

Delivered as promised before the end of November. My phone got confiscated at my big age of 21 while I was in the middle of writing this the past few weeks. 🙂

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy it. I literally have an unfinished published fanfic I haven’t touched since 2021 and let’s cross our fingers I don’t do the same with this one ong.

Also please point out any inconsistencies or typos!

[hiddensneker]

Sorry this whole movie situation reminds me of pre crystallized where ppl were like “you guys are being to negative for a season we haven’t even seen yet! 🙄” and then it dropped like a couple months later and it was ass and everyone hated it

[qiu-yan]

(wei wuxian does not leave it)

[some time later]

wei wuxian: so.....jiang cheng.....what's lan-zongzhu's favorite flavor of tea? jiang cheng: i don't know. wei wuxian: aaaaaand what's lan-xiansheng's favorite flavor of tea? jiang cheng: don't know either. the same bitter leaf water everyone on their mountain calls tea, i'll bet. wei wuxian: what about jin gua - meng yao? what kind of tea did he like? jiang cheng: don't know, don't give a fuck. probably whatever tea makes you hold a garrote to your nephew's throat. wei wuxian: nie-zongzhu? favorite tea? favorite books? favorite kind of fan? jiang cheng: don't know either. probably whatever shit taste he had back in our student days, if that hasn't also changed. look - why are you asking about this? wei wuxian: and lan zhan? what kind of tea does he like again? jiang cheng: i thought i told you already - he likes herbal teas and dislikes fruit teas. i don't know what he has against fruit teas when he seems to like other sweet foods, but it could be the heat. he especially hates peach tea. wei wuxian: .....i see. jiang cheng: see what. wei wuxian: oh, nothing :) jiang cheng: wei wuxian. what are you talking about. wei wuxian: nothing! nothing at all. don't worry about it. jiang cheng: wei wuxian--

[later, in the cloud recesses]

wei wuxian: lan zhan, lan zhan. i think jiang cheng's in love with you. lan wangji:

zhancheng to me is like this:

imagine a scenario in which jiang cheng actually does know quite a lot about lan wangji's tastes: his favorite and least favorite tea flavors, snacks, food, books, music, authors and artists, and so on.....except jiang cheng specifically sought out this information during the 13 year timeskip to make lan wangji miserable.

maybe lan wangji is just publicly A Bitch to him one too many times and jiang cheng finally decides he's had enough. so, for the next few months, jiang cheng spends an inordinate amount of time gradually sussing out everything he can learn about lan wangji's tastes. what kind of tea does he like? what kind of tea does he despise? which authors does he always read? what temperature does he prefer his room to be? what new trends in music does he find completely unbearable? when he passes through a region whose cuisine he hates, which restaurants does he find slightly less intolerable?

and then, the next time there's a discussion conference at lotus pier, jiang cheng weaponizes this knowledge. actually, the next time there's a public event anywhere wherein both jiang cheng and lan wangji are in attendance, jiang cheng weaponizes the fuck out of this knowledge. he makes sure that the tea lan wangji hates the most is served to everyone. he has his disciples buy all the local snacks he knows lan wangji has a preference for, just so lan wangji can't have any. he makes sure lan wangji's room and bed are heated to the exact temperature lan wangji finds just too hot to be comfortable. whenever lan wangji's favorite obscure author releases a new work that gusu lan doesn't think is cultivation-related enough to include in their library, jiang cheng has a bunch of his disciples swoop in and buy as many copies as possible, just so that it takes lan wangji a bit longer to get his hands on a volume. jiang cheng "leaks" to a few minor sect leaders the idea that lan wangji actually does like spicy food, and said minor sect leaders actually believe that information for a full year of hosted visits and public events.

this continues for all 13 years of the timeskip. of course, jiang cheng isn't outstandingly successful in actually making lan wangji miserable, because there are limits to what jiang cheng can actually achieve and what he's actually willing to spend enough time on; realistically, all he's accomplishing is causing lan wangji some minor irritations once in a while. but it's enough for jiang cheng to know that, every time lan wangji has to pass through yunmeng, he's absolutely miserable because jiang cheng has persuaded/paid every musician in the area to play the one song lan wangji hates the most.

jin guangyao, of course, figures out what's going on immediately. but even loyalty to lan xichen isn't going to make him sacrifice potentially useful dirt by putting a stop to jiang cheng's asshole behavior himself, so instead he just decides to watch and wait. he also just finds it really funny. meanwhile, lan wangji, for all 13 of these years, never figures out what's going on. he never figures out why he can't ever find the lanling-style osmanthus cakes he hates slightly less than the rest of lanling cuisine whenever he passes through the area and runs into disciples from yunmeng jiang. when his favorite obscure author releases a new book, he gets in line at the indie bookstore in qinghe he went out of his way to visit, and just doesn't question why everyone in front of him is wearing purple.

postcanon, though....now lan wangji has one hell of a source of insider information (wei wuxian), so the turns are about to get fucking tabled.

[freakinator]

thinking about kab and the thing about her i think is she knows just enough to keep herself safe Generally but not enough to really predict what would happen should something more... complicated??? unforeseen??? idk whats the right word to use but something not covered by someones reputation and/or vids happen, believe it or not this also affects her view of clownpierce (we'll get to that)

for example, mapicc has a reputation for being an violent, angry, & impulsive guy and nothing else which makes sense but is incredibly surface level and something that only really works if you dont have a lot of experience working with him

another is reddoons, his betrayal after the base incident while shocking is not unforeseen but his reputation as being a guy whos seen as being a reasonable person whos fairly loyal to his team made it seem like something he wouldnt do even tho it absolutely is

regarding how it affects her view of clown, since he isnt perfectly aligned with his reputation she instead pivots in the complete opposite direction and forgiving basically every crime he does even tho hes something much more mild and complicated than either his reputation or her view of him will ever be (think madonna-whore complex which is especially obvious when it comes to kabs vs woogies view of him)

another side effect of this Just Enough amount of knowledge aside from being blinded by her own expectations is that it frustrates ppl who think shes oversimplificating things (like me and seemingly several other tumblr users as well) especially when she claims that shes objectively correct and the smartest in the room at any given moment

how this roughness in her analysis affects her in the server still has yet to be fully seen but we do still have at least a couple months until the end but 'til then shes just gonna keep stumbling as more and more complicated situations pop up as is typical in lifesteal to happen and eventually shes gonna have to learn to adapt or else she'll be suffering the consequences one way or another

[woodsborostabathon]

have been fighting for my life trying to find this one richie/ethan x reader fic (it was like. an ethan fic but there was a pretty significant sort of kind of fake dating richie subplot) on here that i rbed onto a sideblog on my old acc and saved NOWHERE ELSE apparently bc it was so good but im getting NOTHING 😭

[heavenslie]

i like Stoliz as a concept, but if i wanted to watch a melodramatic romance with a huge breakup that the main character obsesses over as the main driving force of the show where all the side characters (especially the female ones) only exist to boost up the main character, i would just watch Naruto

[telesodalite]

Another rambling thought, sort of stemming from the last thing, but what if Misfire gets so upset about Krok believing he's contacting his old squad, and pretending or implying that they're still alive, because he's harboring some sort of repressed grief over Thundersaur?

Thundersaur's dying request being to free Flyhigh before he ends up in jail for a dozen counts of "accidental" murder implies a certain kind of closeness or something felt towards Misfire. Yet, we don't really see anything returned from Misfire's side? Outside of the "-You're just jealous because you've never had someone look out for you." comment he makes in response to Spinister's disbelief towards him being the type to end up on someone's "dying wish list".

So, there's that. What can be gleaned from just that? Not much ig, at least nothing concrete. But taking into account Misfire's relationship with Grimlock, and Grimlock's later view of Connie, perhaps something can be assumed about his relationship with Thundersaur.

Whether I'm reading into it too much or not, there is a theme of a sometimes rough but well intended trickle down kindness when it comes to the Scavengers and their story.

A favor or act of kindness is shown to one, and they return it back or onto another, sometimes unintentionally. There's emphasized acts of selflessness with them, even though we know them to be quite selfish, which, really only emphasizes those moments more. If they were written as less of a joking break between the drama of the Lost Light cast, perhaps this theme would've played a deeper more defined role. But anyways, my subjective character favoritism aside.

The point here is Misfire cared for Grimlock, and in turn, Grimlock chooses to care for Connie because it's "his turn" to look after someone. One act of empathy leads to another. There's a time to decide when it's your turn.

So it's possible it goes further back because of that. Thundersaur cared for Misfire, then it was Misfire's "turn" and he cared for Grimlock, and Grimlock cared for Connie.

So why doesn't Misfire say or mention anything about Thundersaur? Grimlock cares a lot for Misfire, wouldn't Misfire have cared a lot for Thundersaur?

Well, in a way, there's a possible answer for that. Misfire is shown to be uncomfortable when faced with admitting he cares for people, or needs people. He's uncomfortable with vulnerability. He gets defensive and snappy when pressed about it, or he deflects it away from himself, which is somewhat of a stark change to his more casual dramatics and honest friendliness. So he doesn't like talking about how he feels, how he really feels.

But he also admits to Grimlock he understands missing the people you cared about. He admits this in connection to Grimlock recalling the last time he was with his "Dino-Buddies", just before Grimlock was taken to Garrus 9. Misfire "gets it", even though it's hard, he gets it.

With all that possibly pointless evidence, we can guess that yeah, Misfire did care for Thundersaur. It's just that he, like the rest of the Scavengers, has his own repressed and poorly managed issues relating to his past and his own negative emotions.

Also, the death thing. He's real casual about dead stuff. He exsanguinates and cannibalizes corpses as a job/hobby, and enjoys it. There's an implied acceptance that he's okay with the fact that the Scavs will eat each other as soon as someone happens to keel over, which includes him also being dead and eaten. He's cool with that, ig. Or at least, he's cool with eating the others if the situation presents itself.

So he's got a weird relationship with life and death. When you're alive, you're a friend. When you're dead? Well, it's not really you anymore, is it? It's not someone you care about anymore, it's just a corpse, not a person, it's just resources in an empty vessel, not a friend. Nothing worth getting emotional or upset about. Perfect for being comfortably detached.

Because this is getting way too long tho, here's the point I'm trying to get to.

Why does Misfire lose his shit a little when Krok starts panicking and trying to call for his squad? Here's my theory, I guess.

Thundersaur is dead. He died, and he's gone, and Misfire knows this. He wasn't there. He didn't get to say goodbye. He didn't get to return the favor or repay the debt. He didn't get to show Thundersaur that he cared for others too, that he passed that on.

But while he accepts it, he doesn't want to think about it. Doesn't want to dwell on it, doesn't want to acknowledge that he misses Thundersaur. He's dead, he's gone. So it doesn't matter. Misfire can't need him anymore, and he doesn't want to admit he needs anyone anymore, because someone he relied on is dead, and he wasn't there for them to rely on in turn.

So he doesn't think about it. But Krok does. Krok thinks about it, and talks about it, and still admits to needing his dead. Even if he won't acknowledge the fact that they're dead, and gone, and never coming back, no matter how much he wants or needs them anymore.

And it feels unfair, and Krok keeps unintentionally poking at that repressed grief Misfire won't touch. A reminder with every click of that dismembered finger, that you can't always just will away the grief of loss, of death. There's going to be reminders everywhere. Even close to you. And so, faced with reminder after reminder, the repression breaks, and Misfire snaps because-

They're all dead.

Krok's squad is dead. Thundersaur is dead. Why can't they accept that and just move on to never talking about it, never mentioning it, never thinking about it again?

Because, in their own ways, neither of them have ever truly moved on.

[rapidhighway]

Hnngg

[coridallasmultipass]

Just wanna remind everyone that it's NEVER okay to tell someone to die.

You don't know how hard they're fighting to stay alive every day. Or if they don't even want to fight for that any more.

[starlooove]

Duke should have a chain with a lil bat on it and that’s all I can really say about fashion

[nexus-nebulae]

ppl always say that autistics don't get jokes but honestly when has a neurotypical person ever clocked the fact that I've told a clearly telegraphed joke like. I'm the one who takes everything too seriously?

[steviescrystals]

i seriously need to get a new job and start making money again asap bc i cannot keep living at home much longer it’s driving me insane

(wrote an entire essay in the tags without meaning to oops)