#i honestly probably have more to say lol

[bikananjarrus]

i am processing my feelings about the fallen star. some very spoilery thoughts under the cut!

first things first, the obvious: stellan. beautiful, beloved stellan 😭 

full disclosure, despite doing my best to avoid spoilers, i did see a spoiler that he died in this book. so i spent most of the rising storm and all of this book knowing that (though i was hard core in denial and it didn't really sink in until halfway through this book lol). so even though i knew it was coming, it was still so hard to read. 

him sensing that elzar was in trouble and going to back him up ("he would not leave his friend to suffer as Stellan himself had suffered, alone...'i intend to be with him'") and knowing that he would go down there and probably wouldn't make it off the station, and to boot, promising elzar "we'll be right behind you"..... i'm in pain. 

but stellan making a big heroic sacrifice is along the lines of how i thought he would die; it makes sense for him. and him finally coming to understand what the force means to him, how he fits into it, not just thinking how he's "supposed" to think as part of the Order, the book was building to that and it was really wonderful to see him feel strong and confident in himself and the force again. 

also the "the last thing he'd ever do, he'd done right." i'm so distraught. and going from him spending so much of the book afraid and weighed down to "Stellan felt no fear. The firmament of the night sky shone no less brightly when one small star went dark" weeping and wailing and breaking down about it tbh. 

(i also have SO much to say about stellan elzar and avar as a constellation, and all of that, so that will be a separate post probably. like i won't be shutting up about the firebrands any time soon, i can promise that)

"My polestar, Elzar thought, and my song. They're with me now, whether they know it or not" yeah i need like 5-10 business days or months to recover from this....

when the bottom half of starlight crashed into the sea and elzar sensed the last few people on board dying along with it, but not realizing that stellan was one of those people bc he thought stellan had gotten off the station. he thought stellan was SAFE. i'm so fucking upset, i will simply NEVER RECOVER

and compare that to elzar and avar's reunion and their hug and elzar knowing that she was alive, because she had to be.... and in his heart, of course stellan made it off starlight, because he had to, right? 

but then, THEN, Forfive finding them and saying that stellan gifted him back to elzar and then PULLED OUT STELLAN'S LIGHTSABER. that broke me. that broke me SO BAD. (something something "this weapon is your life" or whatever).

elzar using the dark side (or at the very least, letting dark side emotions fuel his actions for a brief moment) when he killed chancey, did NOT anticipate that. that was....oof. also putting it out there that while i know elzar blames himself for stellan's death (bc maybe if he hadn't killed chancey, stellan could've survived, etc.) but i don't blame elzar for stellan's death. something else could've gone wrong down there, even if chancey had lived! like was it wrong for elzar to pull his lightsaber first, ask questions later - yes. but he saw what he perceived as a threat (and the nihil have been a long-standing threat, that haven't proved themselves to be anything but) and took action. he had no idea what kind of consequences those actions would bring - he didn't know. it's not elzar's fault, and stellan knew (and likely sensed that his end was coming) what kind of danger he was putting himself in by going down there, and decided to go be by elzar's side anyway. 

one thing i also loved about the relationship between the firebrands this book (which also makes stellan's death more sad) is the unresolved tension. (now, some of what elzar and stellan were feeling could've been side effects from the creatures on the station, but it's not entirely bc of that i don't think). elzar, though he won't say it, is upset that stellan didn't go with him to ledalau to help him after using the dark side on valo. he trusts and relies on stellan and wants stellan's support, so of course it would be upsetting that his friend wasn't there with him in that time of need. and stellan and avar being at odds with each other over the marshal position at starlight. stellan feeling prideful about taking the position away from avar, and avar being mad at losing her position. her thinking about how after only a month under stellan's control, starlight beacon was lost. the two of them being blinded by their own jealousies and pride. stellan recognizing (when it's essentially too late already) that the weight of their responsibilities, the tension and exhaustion from dealing with the nihil for so long, pitted them against each other. and they'll never get to apologize to each other for that, never get to make up for that time spent being angry with one another.

now onto my non-stellan and firebrands thoughts:

i would very kindly like to ask the authors to participate in the Leave Bell Zettifar Alone 2k24 Challenge. he's been through SO MUCH already, STOP hurting his feelings!!!!! i mean, it sounds like indeera will pull through, thank goodness. and there was a lot of emphasis on burryaga's body not being found and bell going to look for him, so i have a feeling burry might still be alive. but bell.....beautiful bell, please leave him alone. 

i am so happy with his development in this book though! i love a story about grief, so seeing bell still grieving loden (even though jedi are supposed to try and move past their grief) and working through that means a lot to me. when he saw burry grieving for nib, and was able to see his grief reflected outside himself in his friend, he was then able to take the next steps towards processing his own grief. and he was able to help burry, and also start believing in himself again, and that was just so special. i can't wait to see what bell does next (next to the firebrands he is absolutely my fave character)

claudia gray did an excellent job with the atmosphere of fear in this book. i was genuinely anxious half this book, worrying about what would happen next. and like, i knew stellan was going to die. but then for regald, nib, AND orla to die as well???? (possibly burry, but i think he might still be alive). i think part of what worked so well is that we didn't see the fear-creatures AT ALL. we only saw how the jedi reacted to them, and leaving it up to the readers' imagination, and only knowing that the jedi are afraid and that the force feels wrong, it was so so effective. 

also shout-out to star wars authors for making me care about random side characters in the span of like a paragraph, and then killing them. that scene with the temple on chespea that got completely destroyed by the nihil, and the jedi master told her padawan to call coruscant, "and tell them we're under attack?" "Tell them we are gone." like WTF???????? made me tear up ngl. even just the description of the top half of starlight crashing and burning was so intense, and those kind of hopeless moments, all the authors have done a really incredible job with so far. you can feel the devastation. 

overall, even though this book hurt me deeply, i really loved it! i have so many more thoughts on the firebrands that will come later. (tbh, i haven't even processed my feelings about the elzar and avar content we got, bc i can ONLY think about stellan and his and elzar's relationship rn. but trust that i will have plenty to say about elzar and avar later on too).  

(p.s. i'm always open for asks/messages if anyone wants to talk about these books <3)

[sysig]

Ah, childhood memories (Patreon)

[yuwuta]

gojo would kill your work husband. but if he were the work husband, that's a different story

REAL!! he’s such a hypocrite because if someone mentioned you had a work husband, his entire world would stop and he wold devise the absolute worst plans to make sure that your co-worker, everyone at your job, and everyone in the next building over knew that he was happily committed to you 

but if he is the work husband, he’s very........ dutiful in his role. there’s a loose office/lawyer au in my head where satoru is your secretary, and for all intents and purposes, your personal assistant, and he’s good at his job, but mostly because he considers his job to be pleasing you. he has coffee for you when you arrive, he moves your schedule around without you asking, he has answers to questions before you can even ask them, he has fresh flowers on your desk weekly, pokes into your meetings to pretend to hand you a file that’s really just maybe a single document in a manilla folder with candy on top of it—he’s made himself your business, your partner; he’s made himself irreplaceable, and he loves to remind everybody of that fact. 

he’s also extremely loyal. sure, he could day a week’s worth of work done in about a day, but that doesn’t mean he’ll just use his talents for anybody. he’s your secretary, so he’s at your beck and call, and everyone knows it. they know he’s the best, but also that he’s off limits—not because you won’t share him, but because satoru won’t let himself be shared. 

he also extends his duties beyond work, of course. when he hands you a print out of your schedule for the day and you’re confused by the three-hour block of time you have in the middle of the day, satoru just helps you shrug your coat of your shoulders and smiles, “that’s for the lunch date you have with me, of course!” hanging up your coat in your closet for you, “i’m paying, see you soon, sweets.” and because you’re great at your job, and satoru helps you be great, nobody really questions when the two of you have time for a 13-course tasting menu at 1pm on a tuesday afternoon. and if they did, all satoru would say that you two had a lovely date 

[szaryherbatnik]

Uhhh bling bling bitch

More purple version if u care because i truly cant decide which one i like more idk szare nation this was the main version earlier but i decided i prefer the less purple one

[mitskikissme]

My very rushed love letter to @rowdyknives fanfic what it means to love her. hes such a talented writer no jokeee

[romatito]

mmmm the pirate au is slowly turning into a multi-chaptered plotbunny that wont leave my head. so in the meantime pls take these designs while i work out whether im capable of focusing long enough to actually write it or not 🫡

[bacchuschucklefuck]

love thinking kipperlilly spends her afterlife looking for lucy in a familiar forest

[kiwisandpearls]

yeah sorry, your fandom got a hold of your canonically bisexual character and are now acting as if they are only straight or gay. So sorry :(

[puppetmaster13u]

I’ve been thinking about this a lot and basically Danny is Beelzebub from Hellva boss with his own casino performs and the entrance defies reality and all his ghost rouges come in and go as they please and some humans and or mortals stumble in and think it’s just some place where metas party their fucking asses off which wouldn’t be that bad if this wasn’t FUCKING GOTHAM. Danny doesn’t know how they got in Gotham but they just want to party but unfortunately for him the bats hear a rumor some meta trafficking ring has been planning a big raid on a certain casino that’s new ish and they have to stop it so they go in disguise and they get to witness Danny and his rouges beat the every loving snot out of some traffickers

maybe Danny is a clone, maybes he’s reincarnated, maybe he lost a bet, maybe he moved to Gotham for fun, maybe he got tossed across the universe into Gotham

who knows certainly not Danny

but to add even more maybe he travels around the casino on trapezes and circus rings that he just flips around it and has a pole it the middle that reaches the ceiling and at the top there’s this disco ball thing that he can activate to make a small nebula or stars surround the casino and make it pretty

oh oh and maybe with him having the title of beelzebub is like gotten after he beat them as in right of conquest, or maybe beelzebub is kinda like a shared name so Danny fuels them and they go around getting mortal action without having to do work, or maybe it was given to him as a present with a bow on top idk

I have no words for this and just had to draw because the idea of a casino or whatever with like, everywhere looking like galaxies and auroras that shift to the music was such an amazing visualization lol

[lavander-galaxy]

they are so cute I may die

@sonderfairy

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

Those Beyond The Wall

sequel/companion to The Space Between Worlds, set a decade later

character-focused sci-fi set in an area divided in two, the rich protected city on one side and everyone else in the post-apocalyptic desert

follows a woman who works under the Emperor in Ashtown, keeping the peace

when mangled bodies start showing up with seemingly no murderer, she’s tasked with finding the cause, and finds out that it’s the result of corruption spanning both cities and multiple worlds

explores oppression and messy revolution, police violence and apartheid

bi & polyamorous MC

[conanssummerchild]

writing a fic abt rick having an ed bcs why would i recover when i can just project all my issues onto fictional old men in cartoons and pretend everythings better now ‼️

tw eating disorder, minor self harm and vomit near the end

Morty stopped in the open doorway of the garage, watching Rick who was sat scribbling down some kind of invention idea, or equation, or whatever it was he did when Morty wasn't around, for all Morty knew he might well be writing fanfiction.

An involuntary smile pulled at his lips at the idea of his almost 70 year old genius grandfather spending his free time writing silly little stories at his work bench. What would he even write? Ball Fondlers fanfic? Maybe he wrote about his stoic bird friend, Rick had always been touchy with him and Rick wasn't touchy with anyone.

When Morty focused back on Rick he wasn't writing anymore, the slightly crumpled piece of paper shoved to the side as he fiddled with what looked like a small metal box with a bunch of brightly coloured wires poking out of the sides. A small spark shot out of one of the wires Rick was holding and he cursed loudly, shaking his hand.

"Fuck, Morty, are you just gonna– gonna stand there, or are you gonna pass me the fucking, uh– the thing."

Rick waved his hand in the general direction of the shelf nearest to Morty, but there were so many assorted trinkets on the shelves, Morty had no idea if Rick wanted a wrench, or a hammer, or one of his laser guns, maybe the box was like a new battery for them?

"W-what thing, Rick?"

"The thing, Morty! The fucking– the uh, destornillador."

"What? Rick, I don't know what that means. W-w-what is that?"

"Jeez, Morty, what are they teaching you at that crap school you love so much?" Rick scowled, tossing the box to the side and getting up to grab the screwdriver himself.

"I havent been to school in like a month, Rick!" Morty exclaimed. "And even then I only got to stay for like an hour before you were dragging me out again!"

"Whatever." Rick said with a burp, "School's dumb, Morty. I'll teach you Spanish myself. B-but, uh, not now."

He turned back to his box, done with the conversation, but Morty stayed hovering in the room, remembering what he had come for in the first place.

"Okay, um, w-w-well lunch is ready."

"I'm busy."

Morty sighed, having expected that answer already. "When's the last time you ate, Rick? Or slept? Or... showered?" Morty said, wrinkling his nose a little.

Rick ignored him, pulling at a blue wire.

"Rick!" Morty frowned.

"What, Morty? J-jesus christ, what the fuck do you want?"

"I want you to have lunch with the family."

"And I said no, so screw off."

"Rick, come on, it would make mom so happy."

Rick glared at him, not bothering with an answer.

"...Wouldn't y-you do it for your original Beth if you could?" Morty tried.

Rick slammed the box on the table, causing the thin metallic shell to crack, sparks flying from it, the sudden noise making Morty jump.

"The fuck did you just say?" Rick snarled.

"S-s-sorry!" Morty squeaked. "I didn't m-mean– mean it in a bad way!"

"Get the fuck out." Rick said icily, eyes blazing.

Morty stumbled out of the room, shutting the door behind him to the sound of something crashing. Probably Rick throwing the damaged box across the room.

Morty winced. In his defense he was worried about Rick, and sometimes, depending on his mood, something like that would've gotten Rick to cave, clearly he wasn't feeling so sentimental today, more annoyed and angry.

"What was that about?"

Morty startled a little and turned to see Summer looking at her phone behind him.

"Just, y'know, Rick being... Rick."

"Mhm, pro tip, don't bring up his dead daughter to try and blackmail him into something he hates." Summer drawled. "You can only do that if he's already half convinced, or if he's feeling especially depressed sometimes.

"Summer! That's– that's messed up!"

She quirked an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah, so only you can manipulate grandpa Rick?" Summer scoffed. "God forbid women do anything." She said sarcastically and turned to walk away.

"Wait!" Morty fidgeted with his hands. "Can you... help me? To get him to have lunch w-with us? Please?"

"Yes, but not now. He's already upset so if we double down on trying to get him to eat he's only gonna clam up."

Morty nodded. "I know that– but how do you? You don't spend as much time with Rick as I do."

"Because he's like mom. Who do you think got her to stop drinking before parent-teacher conferences at school?"

"Wow. That's pretty fucked up that you had to do that, though, y'know, Summer."

"Yeah, well, we're the Smiths, Morty. Is anyone in this house not disordered?"

Morty winced at the blunt statement, Rick really was rubbing off on her. But it was kind of true.

"Guess it runs in the family." He muttered

"Guess it does."

---

Morty hadn't been planning on seeing Rick again until the next day. He knew that when Rick got upset he needed his space. Morty didn't quite get it because when he was upset all he wanted was for someone to hug him and tell him everything was going to be okay, but Rick wasn't like him he supposed.

If he was being honest it made him nervous to leave Rick alone in those bad headspaces he got into. Rick was volatile and unpredictable and a borderline danger to himself and often others. He'd walked in on a couple... compromising situations where Rick had had to explain away why he was passed out in his chair or why there was blood on his hands and his lab coat despite being the only person in the room.

Morty pretended to believe him when he said he had been doing a messy dissection experiment or that "This isn't blood, this is Balorkian dust I mixed with red Squanchenite fluid from Planet Squanch, Morty." But truthfully those moments haunted him.

However, he didn't want to invade Rick's space, so he let him be and tried to eat and sleep until Rick emerged like nothing had happened, even though Morty knew what habits of his went on behind those closed doors.

Of course Morty's patience had it's limits, like when two hours after he had left Rick in the garage, angry, there was the sound of something smashing, closely followed by an unmistakable sound that Morty had grown too familiar with since Rick had moved in. The sound of a body thudding to the ground.

He was up from the sofa in a flash, at the garage door before Summer could even put down her phone, flinging it open.

He felt like he couldn't breathe, but the only sight that greeted him was a smashed bottle and rick lying on the floor next to it, not looking any more dead than usual, looking up at Morty blearily, cracking a smile.

"Oh, hi Morty. H-hey buddy." He slurred, clearly drunk out of his mind.

"Jesus fucking christ, Rick." Morty said weakly.

"What happened?" Summer breathed, now standing at his side.

"He's just drunk." Morty muttered, wrinkling his nose at the overpowering smell that he hadn't registered before between his state of panic and shallow breathing.

Summer ventured into the garage, picking up an empty bottle and sniffing it. "God, grandpa Rick, what the hell are you drinking in here, fucking rubbing alcohol?"

"Sum-Sum! 'M just having some– some fun drinks. Fun drinks just a lil' bit. Besides I only ever drank rub-rubbin' alcohol once, n' it was– tasted like shit."

"What? I was being sarcastic, why would you drink that?"

"Because I was sad... was sad 'nd lonely after B-b-blood Ridge, couldn't find anythin' else. But 'm not s-sad now."

"What's Blood Ridge?" Summer frowned, "Actually it doesn't matter right now, you need to sober up."

"Get him some water," Morty interjected. "I'll clean up the glass. I also know where he keeps all his hangover serums and stuff, but he told me not to let you into any of his drug stashes."

"Fair enough." Summer shrugged, leaving to get Rick some much needed water.

While she was gone, Morty felt along the wall until he found the small hidden panel under Rick's desk. He fished out the light blue vial of fluid for hangovers, the red one he'd forced Rick to make that would sober him up and a green one that basically equivalated to getting your stomach pumped if you took it, just in case he'd taken more than just alcohol.

He shut the panel securely and placed the three coloured vials on Rick's work bench, grabbing a purple tube-like gadget from a shelf. He pressed a button on the back of it and typed in "Broken Glass" on a small hologram keyboard that emerged, then pressed that first button again. A blue ray shot out, scanning the garage, and the pieces of smashed bottle disappeared in a matter of seconds.

Morty looked over at Rick, who was still lying on the floor, but now he was tracing his fingers along a crack in the cold ground, his expression so solemn he almost looked sober.

"Rick?" Morty asked hesitantly.

"I miss her." He said flatly. "I miss her s-so much."

His words were still a little slurred but his tone had lost all the previous levity.

"I tried to save her, Morty, I t-t-tried, but I couldn't bring her back. And no one could ever replace her." A rough sob escaped his throat. Morty felt frozen. "I'm a crappy fuckin'– piece of shit father but I didn't want to be. I was gonna fuckin' give– give up everything for them, and I would've been happy. I would've been so happy as long as I had them, but he fuckin' took that from me! I nnever even got a chance."

Rick was crying, he was crying so hard that his tears stained the concrete dark grey and snot ran down his face sideways. He was shaking like a leaf and gasping for air.

Morty crouched down next to him, fists clenching and unclenching, unsure if he should hug Rick, or if that would make it worse. What else could he do?

"Oh– oh shit, Rick, I–"

"My little girl, my baby." Rick continued between sobs. "She meant everything to me. S-so yeah, I would be better f-for her if I could, but she's gone. There's no point."

Rick's sudden fit of violent sobs was calming down, replaced by a look that Morty could only describe as pure hoplessness and defeat washing over his features.

"'S no point in anything."

Shit, this was bad. Rick didn't admit defeat, and he certainly didn't talk so openly about his feelings like this.

"Aw jeez, Rick, come on don't– don't– don't say that. we killed Rick Prime, remember?" Morty said, wringing his hands anxiously.

"Yeah, I remember." Rick said, tone now devoid of emotion. "I remember killin' him with my bare hands, watchin' the life drain out of his eyes as his blood dripped down my fists. And I remember nothing changing. W-w-what d'ya do when you achieve your life long goal and nothin's better? It didn't bring them back, it didn't– didn't give me closure or give me a reason to live. I still can't sleep, petrified he's in the fucking house, comin' for my new family, that he'll kill all of you to teach me that t-that's what happens when I-I care about people."

Rick wiped his face with his lab coat sleeve, rubbing away the snot, drool and dried tears while Morty just kneeled next to him, frozen and unsure what to say.

"Rick..." he started but then Summer stepped through the doorway and Rick's demeanour instantly changed.

"Summerfest!" he called out and Morty watched, a little shocked, as Rick's whole face changed in the blink of an eye, going back to the cheerful, goofy expression he'd been wearing when he and Summer first came in. It didn't look artificial to Morty at all, even now that he knew it was. How could Rick just switch it on and off just like that?

"I brought water and coffee." Was all Summer said, placing two mugs on the workbench. "And a cereal bar."

The second statement sounded a little more unsure and Morty could've sworn he saw Rick's jaw clench for a second.

"Gimmie coffee." Rick said, making grabby hands, still lying on the floor.

"Water first." Summer replied, handing him the larger of the two mugs.

Rick pouted a little but as soon as the mug was in his hands he drank thirstily, finishing the whole thing in one go.

"You want more?" Summer asked, taking the mug, but he just shook his head quietly.

"Okay," Morty cleared his throat when his voice came out a little shaky. "drink this."

He handed Rick the red 'get sober' vial and Rick chugged it obediently, making a face. "Tastes like– like shit." He offered.

While he seemed a little calmer after the water and serum, his eyes were still unfocused and his voice sounded thick, like his tongue didn't fit in his mouth properly, hints of his accent were slipping through too.

"Did you- are you on drugs r-right now?" Morty asked, reaching for the green vial of serum.

"Maybe." Rick mumbled. His eyelids were starting to droop a little and he curled up more comfortably on the floor.

"Hey, Rick, don't go to sleep okay? What did you take?" Summer asked, crouching down next to him, shaking him a little. He groaned. "Come on, we just have to make sure you're not overdosing and then you can sleep. Maybe not on the floor."

"'M not overdosing." Rick grumbled.

"What did you take?"

"I dunno. Just some random alien drugs I found i-in my pocket." He said dismissively with a burp. "Actually one of 'em was probably adderall. Look at me bein' all responsible an-and takin' my meds n' shit."

He of course immediately showed his 'responsibilty' by gagging and then throwing up on the floor.

Morty winced, reaching for the purple device again while Summer tried to coax him into drinking the green liquid, frowning deeply.

Finally Rick gave in, sipping from the small vial, and almost instantly his eyes began to clear up a little bit.

"Why'd I make these work so well?" He groaned. Then, "My head is killing me, I want coffee."

Summer passed him the second mug and he gestured toward the hangover serum, which Morty promptly passed to him and Rick poured it in his coffee.

He gulped down half the coffee and sighed, wiping his mouth with his already rather dirty sleeve. "Fuck, that's better."

He downed the rest of it and placed the mug on the ground, getting to his feet shakily. He swayed and nearly fell, leaning onto the wall to steady himself as the dizzy spell passed, and then stretched, his back cracking loudly.

He took a few wobbly steps towards the door but Summer blocked the way.

"Fuck– fuck off Summer I gotta– I'm gonna go take a nap."

"Could you maybe eat something first?" She asked firmly, holding up the cereal bar.

"No."

Rick tried to sidestep her but she blocked the way again.

"Summer, don't fucking piss me off right now, I'm serious."

She stood her ground. "Just eat the cereal bar, grandpa Rick. Please."

"Summer, for fuck's sake, I said no!"

"Grandpa," She sighed, the arm holding the bar dropping defeatedly back down to her side. "Do you have an eating disorder?"

The garage was deathly quiet for a second.

"Wha-What?! I'm not a teenage girl in a f-f-f– goddamn netflix drama, Summer." Rick snarled. "What the fuck kinda question is that?"

He gestured wildly, taking another step forwards, which quickly seemed to be the wrong option as a sudden wave of dizziness hit him hard, making him almost loose his balance. He blindly tried to grab onto the back of his chair somewhere behind him, but missed and fell on his ass.

"Rick!" Morty and Summer both rushed to his side, Morty's eyes beginning to well up a little from all the stress of the day.

"I'm fine, don't– don't fucking touch me." He said, shaking Summer's hand off his shoulder, which caused another wave of nausea to hit.

"Please eat this." Summer said nervously, voice shaking as she pushed the cereal bar into his left hand, his right one gripping at his hair.

"Summer, I promise you if I eat that shit right now I'm gonna throw the fuck up."

"Please?" Morty pouted, eyes big and teary.

All it took was one look at him, and with only a brief moment of hesitation Rick snatched the cereal bar from Summer, muttering angrily under his breath.

Morty only caught "Me cago en la puta." and "Maldito cabrón." which he more or less understood, more familiar with swear words than any other words in the Spanish language.

Rick peeled away the wrapper slowly with unsteady hands and took a small bite.

Morty and Summer watched in silence, not wanting to discourage him by saying the wrong thing—which with Rick could be anything—as Rick uncomfortably ate the cereal bar.

"There you fucking go." He said weakly, Throwing the now empty wrapper at Summer, but missing as it was too light to travel more than a couple centimetres, landing somewhere by his feet.

"Thank you." Summer almost whispered.

They sat in silence for a while, Morty sniffling and rubbing at his eyes and Summer shuffling a bit closer to him for both of their comfort.

Rick was sitting with his knees losely bent and his head braced in his hands, trying to overcome another hit of nausea.

He wouldn't exactly say he tried super hard to keep the cereal bar down, but it wasn't deliberate when he vomited it down the front of his shirt.

"Oh! Aw jeez..." Morty winced.

"I did warn you."

"In our defense, you had every reason to be lying to us."

"Fuck you, Summer." It sounded weak even to his own ears.

She sighed softly.

"Morty, get his shirt off. Do you have pijamas or do you sleep in jeans and a lab coat?"

"Jeans an-and a lab coat."

"...I was joking, but okay." Summer said, flipping the switch that opened Rick's garage closet and grabbing one of his sets of identical outfits.

Rick squirmed, making noises of complaint as Morty tried to take off his current shirt.

"Rick– stay still, you have vomit on your clothes."

"I'm not fucking two years old, Morty." He scowled. "I can change by myself."

Rick tried to sit up but wobbled and then slumped back against the wall, needing more time to recover. Morty reached for his shirt again and this time Rick let him pull it carefully up over his head without resisting. Morty took the new set of clothes from where Summer had left them on the floor next to him.

Summer wasn't looking but Morty still shielded Rick's body from sight with his own, pointedly not mentioning the raised scars and jagged, angry, red cuts littering his arms which he had already suspected would be there.

Rick shifted uncomfortably, seeming relieved when Morty didn't want to talk about it.

"Okay." Morty said, helping Rick pull on his clean lab coat too.

"I'm going to bed." Rick grumbled, not waiting for him to continue, just getting up slowly.

He felt weak and shaky and his brittle old bones weren't exactly helping out. Despite his thousands of cybernetic implants he was still human, much to his dismay, and he couldn't treat his body as badly as he did when he was 30. Not that that ever seemed to stop him, managing to still maintain the same shitty habits he'd had for years at the ripe age of 67.

He stumbled through the dining room, Morty and Summer trailing after him, not discouraged by the glare he sent their way.

As soon as he reached his room, he slumped onto his bed with a groan.

"R-rick?"

"Fuck off, Morty." He snapped into his pillow, a little muffled by it.

Morty hesitated, exchanging a glance with Summer, who shrugged.

"...Ookay, Rick. Uh, see– see you at dinner, today? maybe?'

"Don't count on it."

Summer frowned, Starting to say something, but Rick interrupted, "I'm gonna apply my room's Lock Protocols in ten seconds, so i-if you're still in here, I'm not letting you out until I'm done sleeping. A-a-and if you're standing in the doorway, you're gonna get fucking squashed in the doors."

"Whatever, Rick, fuck you too." Summer huffed, pulling Morty out of the doorway with her.

"Room, activate Sensory Protocol 2. And t-tell Summer to go fuck herself."

"Sensory Protocol 2 activated." Came the mechanical voice and a heavy metal door snapped shut. "Go fuck yourself, Summer."

Summer scoffed. "Dick." Followed by a sigh. "What are we gonna do?"

"I-I don't know." Morty admitted. "There's not much we can do if Rick won't accept help. And he won't."

"So what? We just give up on him?" Summer asked accusingly, putting her hands on her hips.

"No, Summer, J-jeez. I just– We're gonna have to get creative."

"Fuck."

---

thats it thats the end i didnt know how tf to end this but my goal wasnt to rewrite like the bible idfk it was just to put rick through shit and put completely unfair expectations on summer and mortys shoulders so that they could ALL suffer in this fic !! :3 also this is so mf long i sincerely apologise if u read all that

[justalittlebluetiefling]

Something I've seen a couple people saying is that they want to make sure that Laudna understands that she's not the only one who has been through trauma. But like. Laudna is not the only one who needs to learn that lesson. Actually, it's not even that Laudna needs to learn that she's not the only one that's been through trauma at all, because they're all very aware of what they've all been through. This became an inevitable confrontation when Laudna decided to let Delilah back in, though, and after rewatching the scene, I actually think the only people who managed this situation correctly were Imogen* and Ashton.

Orym and Laudna are both more focused on their own pasts with the sword and not thinking about each other. Orym should have talked to the group and come to a decision with them about using the sword and Laudna should have talked to him about it instead of trying to steal it.

*my feelings about this are still up in the air don't read into this too much

[n0heart]

.

[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.

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

"yes im so fine"

*researches whether i can get my hands on ipecac*