#anyways *holds up a knife* lorelei come here

[maleficare]

unfortunately i’ve experienced multiple medias where the protag’s have their memories taken from them by some external force, so i must now inflict this on one of my oc’s

[glassbxttless]

okay soft smut prompts #36 with Randy but make it NOT SOFT

Okay you know I don’t remember the prompt but I hope you like what I wrote anyway, sweet pea 🥺

Randy (the intern) Solo x Reader

Word Count: 1,752

Warnings: female reader, nsfw, PIV sex, oral f receiving, knife play, blood kink, cutting (not self inflicted), Randy’s a lil insecure

Randy’s used to his family forgetting his birthday. Especially with everything else going on this time of the year. He’s used to Christmas being the big shadow hanging over his head and then being slapped with New Years. And two days after the Solo’s spent Christmas Day at Han and Leia’s, on December 27th, Randy’s turning a whopping forty.

He’s on the annual holiday shutdown at Starkiller and sleeps in on each day of the shutdown. Especially on his birthday. Randy doesn’t make a big deal when he wakes up and rolls out of bed. It’s an uneventful start to the morning— as it always is. He pulls his beanie on and ties his sweatpants up as he moves around the room to gather his things for the morning. He notices you’re not in the room at this point and he’s yawning as he steps into the living room. “Babe?” He calls out, voice laced with sleep.

But you don’t reply. Randy sees the aftermath of Christmas as he looks around the room and he walks to the kitchen to fill Lorelei’s food bowl. He rubs his eyes as he opens the refrigerator door, thinking about grabbing one of the beers Ben had left the evening before but bypasses for a bottle of water. And he settles down onto the couch and flips the tv on, watching whatever hockey game he could get to play. And he sits, sipping his water on his empty stomach and hums as he watches the snow fall out of the window. He thinks about texting you, seeing where you’re at. But he’s really just not feeling it. Sure his family forgets the day every year, but you never had before.

And Randy smiles as he watches you walk into the apartment, your coat covered in snow and little flakes sticking to your hair. You smile at him, holding your paper grocery bags. “Hi, my love.” You say softly, kicking your shoes off and you stop by the couch for a quick kiss before setting the groceries onto the counter. “How’s your day been?”

“It’s been okay.” Randy smiles as he turns on the couch, arm on the back as he twists. He’s a little sore in the shoulder— it always gets this way when the weather gets colder. “Where’d you go that early?”

“The grocery store.” You shrug as you tug off your coat and hang it onto the hook. “Just had a few things to pick up.” You say softly, “shoulder hurt?”

“I’m fine.” He says softly, finishing off the bottle of water as he watches you pull things from the grocery bag. He’s counting the ingredients in his head and his eyebrows knit together in confusion. “What are you making?”

“Oh it’s nothing.” You smile softly as Randy watches you flit around the kitchen baking quietly. When you place the pan into the stove and set the timer, you grin. “Let’s go fix up your shoulder. Yes?” You ask as you help him up. The skin is dark red as you help him up— each skim over of his chest is better than the next as you lead him to your bedroom. He lies on his stomach on the bed and then shakes his head.

“I’m fine, princess. I swear.” He says softly.

“I can tell when it’s bothering you.” You counter as you rub numbing cream deep into his skin, tracing his surgery scars for a few moments. “Happy birthday, my sweet man.” You whisper and kiss his temple gently. His eyes open when he feels the cream working deep into his muscles and he smiles at you lovingly. “Thought I forgot, huh?” You're tugging that beanie off his head and running your fingers through his hair. Randy’s cheeks just heat up. “We can decorate your cake together and do whatever you’d like afterwards.”

And you and Randy laugh and smile and share little kisses as you decorate a shitty vegan homemade cake. You both love it more than anything and Randy is so fucking happy to be turning forty. You cut each of you a slice and you settle into the couch to watch another Christmas movie, humming as Randy rubs your hip a bit. He’s got a bit of dried frosting on his chest and you’re smiling as you sit up about halfway through the film. “I have something for you.” You say as you start digging underneath the Christmas tree for a long slim box.

Randy’s chuckling quietly. “You didn’t have to get me anything, princess. I’m forty, not twelve.” He teases as he sits up as well. You’re sitting in front of him. The box is wrapped in a matte red wrapping paper with a black ribbon tied around it in a bow. The card says, to my love. Randy shakes his head, the prettiest smile on his face as he unties the ribbon. “You didn’t need to get me anything, sweetheart… really.” he says to you as he tears the wrapping paper and opens the box. And there sits on some tissue paper is a dagger cast in a faux leather with metal point sheath, the same faux leather wrapped around the hilt. He’s got a lump stuck in his throat.

You’re biting your lip as he pulls it out of the box, no doubt thinking of all of the things he can do with it, and he unsheathes off quietly— looking at the Randall, My Love engraving down the blade. “Do you like it?” You ask him quietly. He looks up to meet your eyes and smiles softly.

“I do.” He says softly as he holds the hilt in his hand. It’s a new feeling. One he hasn’t gotten to do in a while, almost two years, in line with his therapy. This is a treat he only gets every once in a while.

“Do you wanna use it?” You ask softly, your hand settling onto his thigh. “I trust you.”

And that makes him hot inside, swallowing everything he can. His mouth feels dry as he nods. You start to unbutton the flannel you were wearing— it was Randy’s Christmas flannel— as you stand up, holding your hands out for Randy’s. “Princess…”

“I trust you, Randy. I’m okay with this.” His hands are sweating as you take them, leading him into your bedroom. And you’re pulling him in for a gentle kiss as you untie the sweatpants tied around his waist. “I want you to be okay with this.”

“I am okay with this.” He says quietly, hand still clutching the dagger you’d so gracefully selected for him. He’s smiling down at you as you slide those pants down his legs, humming as each inch of his body is revealed to you. His cock is filling, long and hard and bobbing up between his legs. Your mouth is watering as he’s holding the dagger awkwardly. He hasn’t done this in so long. “Lay down?” He asks softly as you tug the shirt off of your shoulders and toss it to the ground. Your leggings are quickly shed and he’s settling between your legs, rolling the dagger in his hand for a moment.

You’re watching as his eyes rake over your chest and stomach. His gaze settles on the scar at the bottom of your tummy and he sucks in a breath. He doesn’t want to ever do that again. And he’s hesitant to press the tip of the blade against your hip. “It’s okay.” He hears you whisper and that brings a smile to his face as he presses down, cutting into your skin just as gentle as he was the first time.

And you make sure you give him a happy little sigh, make sure he knows you’re enjoying this. To help him get his confidence back. And he smiles as he moves the dagger down from the top of your hip to where it dips below your waistline— careful not to be too rough with you. He grazes over your scar but it doesn’t hurt. You’re smiling, reaching down to rub his thighs as he watches each red pearl bubble up to the surface. And he’s pushing your legs up a bit, setting the dagger next to your body as he dips down to attach his mouth to your clit. You’re biting down on your lip as Randy closes his eyes, his fingers are sliding through the blood on your hip and it’s getting on his face. He’s intent at licking every one of your folds and pressing a finger on the opposite hand onto you.

And you gather just enough of your wits to grab that dagger yourself, pressing the tip of the blade against his cheek. And he’s opening his eyes to look up at you. And you can tell just how into it he is when you winks at you. And you’re dragging that blade across his cheek just enough to cut the surface of his own skin. And that’s enough for him to move over you, hooking your legs above his hips. “Hold it up here.” He says softly and taps on his chest gently, as you place the blade just where he shows you. And he’s gently guiding his cock into you. Each thrust of his hips is causing the blade to cut into his chest little by little. And his blood is dripping onto your hand and chest. And you can hardly keep your grip on the handle with how deep Randy’s cock is in you. “I love you.” He’s mumbling as his hips move faster. “Make me so fucking happy.” He’s gripping your hips and you can feel his rhythm stuttering. He’s not going to last much longer.

And one of his hands comes down to rub harsh circles against your clit and you’re jerking that knife away as your back arches and you’re clenching around his cock. And he’s cumming deep inside of you with a huff. He’s breathing into your shoulder, the blood on his cheek smearing against your skin. “Randy, baby.” You’re breathing heavy as you brush his hair back. “How’s it feel to be forty?” You tease.

“Fucking great.” He mumbles, rolling over and wipes his cheek on the back of his arm. “You got me pretty good.” He chuckles and heads into the bathroom to dampen a washcloth and grab the neosporin and band aids. And when he comes back, he settles between your legs and wipes you down with a smile.

*

*

@loganluckylover @themuseic @clydesfavoritegirl @caillea @maybe-your-left @historyandfandoms50 @driversmutbucket @tashastrange89 @mrs-zimmerman @cornmousequeen @mrs-kylo-ren

[snippychicke]

Aftermath--One

Aftermath

So, here I am, starting yet another F**** project. Because I have no self control and I am in love with both the Swedes as well as positive encouragement. 

Aftermath is obviously a slight AU to end of Season 2. No major changes except...did no one tell the creators that just because someone fell unconscious when being strangled doesn’t mean their dead? 

Title: Aftermath

Rating: Teen

Triggers: obviously references to violence, blood, racism including one racial slur. I’m going to go light on that hopefully, however. Slight gore warning? 

Eventual OCxOtto

Herb did not, in fact, take away the dead body. 

It was still sitting in Raymond's living room after everyone else had disappeared in flashes of blue lights. Wrapped up in the rug his sister had gifted him and Allison on their wedding day. Silent. Foreboding. 

Raymond watched it as he sipped at his scotch. There was no way in hell he could move it by himself. And who could he trust to move it? 

To move him.

That wasn't an it, that was a ‘him’. That was a human body resting in his living room. Who, admittedly, tried to kill him and Allison. But still, he could at least acknowledge him as a fellow human. After all, Raymond had tried so hard to be the respectful and peaceful man his grandmother raised him to be. Even when faced with the violence because of the protests, being unfairly treated time after time, he never raised so much as a hand to another human being. 

But here he was: stuck with a dead white man in his living room. It didn't matter that the man and his brother had forced their way into their home (his home, now that Allison was gone) with intent to kill both of them. The white man was dead in his house, and he was alive and relatively unharmed. 

He would go to prison. He was going to be <i>hung</i> for this. Raymond tipped the rest of the scotch back and poured another full glass. All of his work, gone. 

It was probably a good thing Allison had...left to be with her family. It was comforting to know she was safe and alive. A small cold comfort, but a comfort nonetheless. 

His lips touched the cool glass when he heard it. A noise so soft he was sure he had imagined it. Still, it made him freeze, his body tense as he held his breath, eyes darting to the rug. 

No. The man was dead. It had been hours since the attack. There was no way. 

Raymond shook his head, deciding it was probably just the house settling, and shot back the drink, feeling the burn in his throat match the burn of his eyes. His whole life had just ended. It wouldn't be long and he would join…

His somber thoughts were cut off by another sound, this one unmistakable. Raymond jumped to his feet, throwing his glass out of reflex towards the body, which made a grunt when the glass bounced off the rug and shattered on the floor, she shards miking with the alcohol. 

Raymond grabbed a knife off the table, careless that it was nothing more than a butter knife as he held it out waveringly. 

Silence. No further sounds. No movement. Raymond stood frozen, eyes trained on the body, and mentally dared it to do something. Anything. 

If it did, he would...he would…

The rug moved and a groan cut through the heavy silence. There was no doubting the haggard breathing and muffled moan of pain. Raymond cursed every foul word his grandma would wash his mouth out for and ran back to the kitchen to grab an actual knife. The long thick butcher’s knife his wife had used so skillfully once upon a time. 

He pushed that sober realization away and stalked back to the living room, gripping the wooden handle tightly in his shaking hand. Raymond towered over the rug, knife poised to strike. He had to do something swift. Otherwise…

He was a dead man anyway. The thought silenced the instinct to strike, and the knife clattered harmlessly to the floor. He was going to die either way, but wouldn't it be better to die innocent than guilty? Not just for his soul, but for the movement. His brother and sisters?

He dropped to his knees and desperately undid the knots he and Allison had tied, allowing the rug to fall open. The man's face was no longer placid with death, but grimacing in pain, lips pursed as he sucked in haggard breaths. The blood was caked around the remains of his right eye, bruises coloring his neck, but otherwise, he was almost as pale as his white hair. 

"Hey, uh buddy," Raymond said as he placed a hand on his shoulder, earning a painful grunt and he quickly removed it. "Right. Sorry. Let's… let's get you a hospital." Except questions would be asked, and he would be arrested. 

But…

"Actually, I think I know someone." 

                                                         --+--

Lorelei groaned as she fell into the old couch, slipping off her shoes and rubbing the knots in her feet. The third shift in a row at Parkland Memorial Hospital left her sore and exhausted. This week had been nuts, between the street shooting and the asylum patients escaping.

Then there was the man found in the woods. She grimaced at the memory of being called down to the OR because they had been short-staffed. Dr. Wilson had done his best, but they all had their doubts.

Her eyes were starting to drift shut when there was a bang on the door, hard and frantic enough to rattle the windows. Her eyes shot back open and she jumped up out of instinct, her heart thundering in her chest as she stumbled around the coffee table to open the door. 

Raymond Chestnut stood on her aged porch, a pale man nearly twice his size in a bloodied suit draped partially over his shoulder.  

"What the hell?" she started. Usually, it was some neighborhood kids coming to her for help this late, or someone else in their community. A car engine broke the otherwise quiet night further down the street. Raymond shot her a look, panicked and trembling under the other man's weight, and she didn't need any further encouragement to slip underneath the man's other arm and help Raymond drag him into her home and ease him onto the old couch that was far too small for the man.

Her stomach curdled at the wounds she saw, though the bloody mess of an eye was probably the worst. "Shit. We need him in a hospital, Raymond."

"I know!" He hissed back, keeping his voice low despite the privacy. "But can you imagine me pulling in the ER with him like this? I'd be swarmed with police, Lei, and be lynched by dawn!" 

"What even happened?" She asked, undoing the silk tie to study the bruising around his neck. Obviously not an accident, but if Raymond got in a fight, why would he bring the man here?

Nevermind that Raymond was as pacifist as it got, and she couldn't see him doing ...this.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he stated with a dry tone, wiping the sweat from his brow. 

She shot him a look, "I worked in the ER on a full moon on Halloween this year. <i>Try me</i>."

Before he could even start, she disappeared into her kitchen, and he could hear the faucet running as she rummaged through drawers. Within a minute she was back with a basin of water and more than a few washcloths. "Well?" She snipped as she damped a washcloth and worked on the caked blood around his eye, making the man hiss and flinch, his other eye fluttering slightly. 

"Him and his brother came to my house, attacked me and my wife. Allison did that," he gestured to the eye covered by a washcloth, "before telling his brother to kill him. Which I certainly thought he did when he strangled him, but nope, here we are."

Lorelei paused and looked at him, trying to see a hint of a lie. Raymond was a poor liar, and Allison, while always a bit different and headstrong for sure, was still a lady. She had a hard time seeing the hairdresser stabbing someone. 

Granted, being attacked in her own home… 

"Come on. Let's get him back in your car. He needs a doctor, We can say we found him on my doorstep like this. Dr. Cahoy is working tonight, and..."

The man's hand shot up and gripped Lorelei's wrist tightly, making her freeze and Raymond jump. The man's other eye was open and staring hard at her. "No."

"No?" She repeated, falling into her working persona. "I can't treat the trauma to that eye. We need to take you to the hospital."

"No," he repeated, his hand tightening slightly, his fingers easily encompassing her wrist. 

Yet it wasn't quite strong enough to hurt. She ground her teeth at the stubbornness on his face, studying the dark grey-blue eye staring back at her. "Fine. But in return for my services you have to promise not to go after Ray and Allie, okay? Or any negro for that matter."

His eye glanced briefly at Raymond before fluttering close, and he let go of her. Lorelei stood, rubbing her wrist as she thought. This was a bad idea. A very bad idea. White men could get the care they need at the drop of a hat. She saved her stores for others truly in trouble. 

Yet something in her gut was leading her towards an idea that there was something was not quite right. He only said one word, but there was a definite accent to it, and not one she was familiar with either. 

"Ray, start boiling some water.  There's a pack of gauze and gloves under the sink."

Raymond didn't ask any questions but nodded his head and followed her directions. Lorelei sighed as she touched the man's shoulder, making him crack open his good eye once more. "I'm serious here. I am not a doctor. I can do my best, but I doubt I can save your eye. You need a hospital."

"No," he repeated, though this time softer. Almost apologetic. 

She pushed the thought away. "Do you have any plans to hurt Ray or Allie?"

"...no." he closed his eye, becoming stoic but not before she saw a flash of something. Anguish? Regret? Or just pain? 

"I'm holding you to that. Now, give me a name I can call you. Don't need to be your real one," she continued as he looked at her strangely. "I just need a name you'll answer to."

"...Otto." That time she caught the accent but still didn't have an idea from where. 

"Well Otto, I'm Lorelei, but you can call me Lei. And this is probably going to hurt like a son of a bitch."

Part two

[team-adults-blog]

4.07 Gimme Shelter

They didn’t even get the rights to play the Stone’s song. 

Let’s talk about chicken nuggets, Grey’s Anatomy, and Ethics.

HERE WE GOOOOO THAT BLACK RAIN IS REAL

Damn everyone just stripped. Hero boys out to save that kid Harper left for dead.

FUUUUCKKKKKKKKKK. I literally had to pause the show and take a moment to calm down. Everyone’s half nakey. I can handle this. It’s just that it’s EVERYONE. ALL AT ONCE. 

“Why don’t you make a fire, you’re good at that” OOOHHHH Octaviaaaaa burn him. Puns.

Big bro Jackson showing Clarke around like a cool bro should. Abby’s smile is radiating (hah) sunshine and can provide all the solar energy that rocket needs. Jackson is so happy for her. Sachin is the best because he only gets these little moments and kills every single one. 

AWWW she needed to see her mom and get a hug. This is so nice. They used to be pretty mad at each other over dumb misunderstandings and now look at them. I’ve missed you so much. It’s important to remember Clarke is what, like 16-17? Listen. She may have been forced to grow up but you’re allowed to turn into a kid again when you go home. I made my mom buy me chicken nuggets over break and I’m older than Clarke so get wrecked. Here I am, going to brewerys with friends and coming home for the nuggets. But I’m like. An adult. So I make them in the oven and not the microwave. Plus you don’t have to count how many nuggets per 11 minutes. You can have as many as you want. This is important to me because I have no self-control. I also talked my friend into buying the dino chicken nuggets so I’ve basically been living off of beer, nuggets, and smoothies. I’m the picture of health.

Raven’s sedated? AKA you couldn’t get her to take it easy. When was the last time you slept? Um. Try the last episode? Murphy wasn’t only asking do I need to go get the doc, but also do I need to go wake the doc. “I’ll sleep soon enough, one way or another” to quote my cutie patootie B, “dark” aaannnndddd Jackson told on you to Clarke anyways because he knew you’d try this crap. 

Bone marrow? Literally Mt. Weather. Ethicssss. Clarke, why are you not alarmed? DOCTOR LORELEI TSING WAS DOING SOMETHING VERY SIMILAR TO YOU MOTHER (who should also remember this) AND NEITHER OF YOU ARE TALKING ETHICS EXPLICITLY TO EACH OTHER? It’s different because Luna is “ok” with giving you her bone marrow, but creating a human test subject against their will? Whoaaa, Nelly. Glad we’re not rushing into this yet. And Emori is going to misinterpret things. Abs is going to make it voluntary like the culling, right? You don’t need to freak out.

Clarke gets laid, 2 hugs, a SHOWER, and a NAP. All in 2 episodes. She is living the dream. That nap is what she needed to be calm and collected later.

Jump scare! Oh shit someone’s here. I hate this. It’s scary. I fucking screamed so loud. I’m hella tired and saw it coming and still. Apparently I use real swear words and more of them when I’m tired.

Yeah, Murphy! Kill ‘em with a cutting board! My weapon of choice in that kitchen. It’s sturdy and will knock a dude out. 2nd choice in that kitchen is a frying pan because it has a handle. #tangled You’d think knives right? You have to be able to get close to use a knife, and that grounder could kick my ass. My strategy: hit him with something sturdy and solid- not heavy because then he’ll see it coming- and then if he’s not k.o.’d  get him in a headlock. we’re not about stab wounds. we’re about concussions. #5andcounting

Guys Forever is coming back! What a good ad too. “It’s a long story.” I screamed. CW cancels a show for low viewership even though it has an interesting plot, only to bring it back 2 years later. “It’s a long story” covers both the behind the scenes process of bringing it back and how he came back to life this time. The water coming out of the body locker? Fantastic. I knew instantly. But I didn’t believe it until I saw his face. I am excited. Amanda in France is excited.

Bellamy distracted driving in the rain and gets stuck in the mud. Kane has zero ability to help. Awful. All he can do is say sit tight, babe. You’re self-sacrificial, but come one. This sucks so much.

Octavia and Ilian stuck in an elevator I mean cave (thanks B for identifying the actual name of the trope because I was just calling it cave but you’re smarter than me). What a classic way to make two people talk or hook up. Have y’all seen Greys Anatomy? People would just halt the elevator to have an important conversation and/or sex. I should have maybe realized this is what it’s called earlier...They’re not using it as much currently (S13 baby), but it got so bad in the early years it became a bit of a running joke that gets carried onto the spin-off, Private Practice:

This screen grab (from the google.com) may actually be from Grey’s while they were still trying to sell the spin-off. Like when Psych had that The Finder episode? I don’t remember, it’s been years. Anyways, on The 100 they’ve used the trope a little more tactfully: S1 Finn/Clarke hook up and acid fog, S2 Kabby talk about deserving/not deserving salvation in Ton DC. Uh there are most def more but I give up.

The trope for the cave scene felt very in your face, glaringly obvious. Ilian tells Octavia his sad story, then he says it’s her turn. O’s gonna pass. Feeling numb hard. But everytime I find myself saying “fuck it, I’m tired of being this way” a little voice (my conscious, not the scary ones) tells me that the “I’d rather feel pain than nothing at all” mindset is actually incredibly unhealthy and dangerous. The show could have played the entire song “Pain” by Three Day’s Grace and it would have been spot on for what’s happening in this scene (except for who’s actually initiating the sex). “Just make me feel something else,” that’s using someone. That’s how you get in trouble with people because you’re not taking their emotions into consideration. So maybe Ilian does want this, but it’s clearly not the way he would want it. He pushes Octavia away more than once before he gives in. It’s so clear from an outside perspective that it’s wrong, and yet it makes sense emotionally. To me at least. I have a lot of repressed memories that are surfacing and I would like to shove them back down where they belong so we’re just going to leave this and go somewhere less personal.

“It’s good to hear your voice.” Damn right I would rather talk about Kabby. SOOOOO sorry to be the bearer of bad news but we’re running out of water Abs. We’re getting pretty desperate. I trust you 100% to make the right choice on your medical ethics question. This whole conversation is great because Paige and Ian are acting alone in radio scenes; they’re not feeding off each other. Being able to bring up that emotion by yourself is commendable (for Bob too) and they’re all so lovely. Back to the plot- Kane has made poor decisions before, most notably the culling, and Abby has pretty much always been on the right side of the moral issue, trusting the people to volunteer. Abby will do the right thing, she always does is Kane’s angle from being wrong as well as building this trusting and loving little thing. Speaking of which, Clarke you didn’t send his love? Sure they radioed later but. This isn’t a “tell them I say hi!” from my mom whenever I go to my brother’s house. This is important! (sorry mom) Now, the questions:

Take a life to save everyone? Is it murder? Even if we don’t call it murder, could I live with myself if I did this? Whenever philosophical questions come up, I want more details before I commit to a side. Specific circumstances will drive the answers. Unfortunately, they’re operating under a lie Emori is telling everyone, a lie that says, he’s a bad guy. A really bad guy. Even if we’re not 100% ok that this is a forcible injection of nightblood and then we’ll see if he dies or can run out into the world, it’s not like we’re doing this to a sweet child. Clarke reassures Abby that it’s a good decision, but Abby was about to do it anyway, so are they framing it as Clarke holding more responsibility? Or did they just want to give her some? Everyone there shares the responsibility- I won’t call it blame just yet because they don’t know- but doing this gives Clarke a bigger piece? Will finding out the circumstances they think are driving the situation are lies change how they feel about their decision?  Of course! Will Abby feel incredibly guilty? Of course! Does it matter to anything other than your conscious that he’s not the bad person Emori lead you to believe he was? You still made the decision to do this against his will. What a #fun plot to explore, especially with Murphy knowing it’s a lie as well. It’s not if the others find out, but when.

The Blakes and dad!Kane are ripping my heart apart. Kane’s just trying to keep Bellamy safe and reassure him. He missteps. Big. “your mother would be proud of the man you’ve become. I know I am.” He reads that Bellamy need to know he’s doing a good job despite things being out of his control. If he had said “I’m proud of you” he would have been fine. But. Ya didn’t. “You floated my mother.” Damn. He sure did. For having Octavia, the other kid you’re highkey trying to parent. Nothing like a good reminder that all of the delinquents have good reasons to hate/ fear Kane because he put them all there. Jaha gave the order to drop them on the Earth, but S1 Kane arrested them and floated a lot of their families (which makes the dad!Kane bits a little sad). It’s a nice slap in the face to wake up and remember ALL of the character development he’s gone through since the pilot. He’s incredible now, but he still has a lot of baggage he hasn’t had to really deal with aside from Octavia and Abby. He and Clarke never even talked about it back S2 when they started teaming up bit by bit.

He blunders the Harper situation because he’s too worried about Bellamy, Peter and Mark/Matthew (I’ve already forgotten which) and Abby. “Who you want to be doesn’t always win.” Ok. True. But that’s a shitty thing to say to Harper who’s already feeling like shit and has told you she’s wrecked with guilt. You dropped the ball there. ESPECIALLY when you’re trying to comfort Octavia after she ALMOST murders Ilian TWO HOURS AGO. ??????. Harper not off killing people, she just freaked out in a crowd/mob/crazed herd environment and this guy grabbed her. She shook him off and instead of fighting to help him, she lets herself be pushed along by the crowd. She’s not a terrible person, her guilt is evident of that.

Bellamy gets back- how did he dig that rover out of the mud all by himself? Kane tries to apologize, Bellamy flips his line from earlier back in his face. “You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.” I can’t save Octavia. You can’t save me. Savage. Gut punch. Which must be even worse when you think about how those arms pushed a 2,000 lb rover out of the mud. Boy packs a punch. Poor Kane. He deserved it after bringing up Aurora Blake, that doesn’t make it hurt less.

Octavia throws her weapons away and is taking Ilian home. She doesn’t want to fight anymore. I’m glad, but I’m not sure how sleeping with Ilian brought her to this conclusion. If I missed a line help me out.

My exact thought process on the last scene: OH MY GOD IT ISN’T HIM. EMORI. MURPHY WHY DO YOU GO FROM ALARM TO SMIRKING AND THINKING “THAT’S MY GIRL.” THIS IS NOT HOT.

Shirtless everyone and cool questions give this episode a 9/10. I’m fine with being unclear as to where Octavia is going, I’m not cool with not understanding the morning after and how that decision was made because its 1) really important and 2)the show acknowledges it’s important enough to show is (unlike Abby’s rings). -1 for that.