#so when knock out is there he relies on him to call the shots

[kazuchuu]

It’s really funny to me how, in “Operation: Breakdown”, Breakdown says, “Never run when you can fight”, but a few episodes before that in “Deus Ex Machina” we see him ask Knock Out whether they should fight or not. As in, “Never run when you can fight (but only if your husband says you can)” LMAOOO

[charnelhouse]

teacups

pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader rating: mature word count: 2.5k+ summary: Joel and you take a shower after a traumatic event. warnings: srs hurt/comfort. violence/gore. implied attempted sexual assault. trauma. panic attack. joel being too nice. A/N: same reader as the one in bad people and moments, but no need to read. Joel Miller Masterlist

Joel wondered if his luck had finally run out. His hand slid along the slippery kitchen floor as the man on top of him snarled. Joel was pinned in a way where he couldn't get a full breath in. He'd been an idiot, relying on threadbare information passed between smugglers. 

"You know that real nice house outside the wall? Only bout half a mile South? Apparently, it's empty. The guys livin' there got taken care of during a raid. A lot of shit probably left inside. Well hidden. I'll pay you to see what you can find."

Joel hadn't thought it'd be that dangerous. He needed a second pair of hands, and everything had been fine until three of the supposedly dead men had walked in on them, rifling through their shit.

"Fuck. Fuck," Joel hissed between clenched teeth as he attempted to reach for the knife that had been kicked out of his grasp. The man's arm around his throat tightened. 

Joel felt his vision tilt, his body shuddering forward. Everything was fluctuating between spots of bright yellow to deep gray. He wasn't scared for himself, but he was for her. She'd been taken into the next room. He could hear her screaming-

No-she was shrieking. Painful, warbling, animalistic noises that only rang out from people cornered without options. Joel knew them well. He'd caused them. 

His jaw clenched as she wailed, a tempest of sound that destabilized him. It cut him straight to the bone, and his head was galloping a mile a minute: no, no, no, no.

Beneath that mantra was something more explicit. Not her. Not her. Christ-not her. 

He swore he heard her shout his name. Beg: Joel. Joel. Please. 

Okay. Okay, honey. 

He went blind-white with a rage he hadn't felt in a long damn time. Despite his lack of oxygen, he braced his hands and knocked his head back. The guy yelled, loosened just enough that Joel shot forward and snatched the knife. He lifted his arm and flung the blade back, making contact with something squishy that gave under the sharp tip. Eye, he guessed, especially by how loudly the bastard was hollering. Joel whirled around to find him holding his face, blood squeezing through the creases in his knuckles. The handle trembling between fingers.

Joel jumped to his feet, jerking the knife out before driving it forward once, twice, and then a third time. He couldn't waste a second, so he jabbed the vulnerable areas. The man gurgled, frantically attempting to stem the injuries before abruptly collapsing. He’d bleed out.

Joel!

His name rocked through his head, and how much time had he just wasted? What if they'd hurt her past the point he couldn't help her? 

He ran.

***

Joel's hands were pulsing with his own heartbeat, dribbling blood from the violence of using a knife. Stabbing was a tricky business.

Joel.

As he tore through the house, he shouted her name, hoping it would comfort her to know he was coming. He'd been a fool to take her outside the walls of the QZ with only two guns and not sufficient information.

But-fuck-she'd handled herself before. 

He hadn't forgotten the night she'd taken out the three people who had killed her boyfriend. Luke had been a good man. A benevolent leader. When he’d been murdered, Joel hadn't exactly cared since he was focused on his own shit. Death had been normal. Loss was easy. Luke had been another name whispered through the channels of QZ communication.

But he did remember her.

Dolly.

It's what most of the community called her because she had a lovely, rich voice and sang a lot of Dolly Parton to help the kids sleep. 

Then, she went briefly insane. A switch flipped when she found Luke ripped and shredded with his guts out. She'd taken it in stride, seemingly calm and collected, as she wrapped his body and brought him to be burned. She'd then asked around, discovered where the three who'd done it were sleeping, and slaughtered them with a Ka-Bar.

Yes-the QZ's homecoming queen walked out of the woods covered in blood, and no one said a word. It was swept under the rug just like everything else, and who was going to complain about losing three assholes who'd murdered a decent guy for a couple ration cards and supplies?

The community had liked Luke. Respected him. 

Joel, admittedly, found the man foolish. Back then, he hadn't given Luke his attention, but once he started fucking his girlfriend, he mulled over his encounters with the blonde jock like he was studying a map. Who was he to her? How much had she liked him? How had he fucked her, pleasured her, made her smile? 

There was the tiniest piece of Joel that felt jealous. Luke was dead, but he still haunted her just like Joel's ghosts plagued him. 

Selfishly, he wanted her rage-her stunning wrath. The idea of that girl carving three people up to avenge his death was a strange, exhilarating image for him. 

In truth, Joel was deeply fucking attracted to her. Dolly. 

What had she said that night as they sheltered from the rain? The first time they'd had sex, and they both had been blind drunk. 

"He was an idiot.

"He still operated as if the rules hadn't changed. He didn't understand that you have to be a bad person to survive here. He trusted too easily. Far too empathetic for his own good." 

Joel never told her, but those words had lit a fire in him. That had been the moment he’d realized she wasn't just some sweet, pleasant angel who sang to kids. She was all teeth. She was smart-

She was still screaming. 

Joel sprinted, barreling through the final door into the dining room before he abruptly slid to a stop. He was puzzled at the scene before him. He couldn’t figure out what he was seeing.

Blood. Dark, viscous as syrup. It was all over the floors. There was arterial spray covering the pale, peeling wallpaper. Dolly was straddling one of the men, bringing her arms up and down in brutal strikes. Joel could hear the squelch of tissue. The creak of the wooden floor under her knees. She had stopped yelling at some point and now was breathing heavily-grunting low and rough. Across the room was the third guy, very obviously dead. 

Joel moved steadily toward her, calling her name softly. She wasn't hearing him, and he realized her sleeves were drenched in blood up to the shoulder. The silver of the knife continued to disappear into the purple-pink mess of the man's belly. His eyes were open and unseeing, mouth parted in shock.

"Dolly," he tried. Nothing. 

"Sweetheart." Nothing.

Finally, he lunged and seized her wrist. She yelped as the knife flew from her hand and skated across the floor. She struggled in his grip, making wet, hiccuping noises when she attempted to wrench herself from him.

"No," she spat. “No-no-no-”

Carefully, he pulled her off the man and wrapped his arms around her from behind. He shoved the side of his face against hers. She was twitching in his hold, shaking furiously. Her teeth clicked, her body taut with adrenaline. "Focus," he coaxed. "You focus for me, now."

She choked and sputtered. She attempted to crawl away, but Joel had her locked against him. Her heart was vibrating in her chest, thumping with the same fury as a battering ram. Joel scanned the room, fully digesting the utter devastation she had caused. Wordlessly, he turned her toward the paintings hanging on the walls. Gold-framed watercolors. It was something nicer, at least. 

"Look at that," he murmured.

She moaned, pushing against him. 

He waited.

***

"Joel," she gasped as if finally coming up for air. She was bending forward, nearly falling, and he latched to her back possessively.

Protectively. 

"Yeah?" His cheek was still glued to hers, his beard scraping her jaw. Both of them were slick with sweat. If he moved his head just right, he'd be able to kiss her, but it wasn't the time. Initiating something sexual seemed like bad form after whatever had gone down.

"Joel," she repeated, and he cleared his throat. Her thin, weary voice worried him.

"You're alright," he assured her. "They're all dead."

She said nothing, so he let her go lax in his arms. He studied the walls and the chandelier. He tried to count her heartbeats but found it challenging when the room stank of copper and viscera. The real stench of death.

Suddenly, she lurched in his arms.

"Teacups." She pointed to the white cabinet-so dusty it could be gray.

"Yes," he agreed slowly, puzzled. 

"Teacups," she muttered before it bloomed into a laugh that was verging on hysterical. "We should take them home." She turned, fingers caught in the opening of his shirt, tugging down like she was attempting to climb him. "Would be nice, you know? Have something pretty."

He grimaced, readjusting his stance, crouching lower to the point that his knees creaked and pain shot through his thighs. He ignored it and grasped her face, tilting it toward the delicate stream of moonlight. "Look at me," he ordered firmly. "Look at me, honey."

She did, her eyes flickering from the floral-stamped teacups to his face. She appeared gone-blood, tears and tears smeared across her nose and cheeks. Her hair was even wet with it. A disturbing memory infiltrated his head: Sarah's artwork that used to hang on their fridge. Finger-paints. Lots of red and pink. He swallowed before licking his lips. 

"Is this blood all theirs?" He asked, gesturing to her clothes. He was pissed at himself for not checking her sooner, but he figured calming her down had been the most necessary action. 

She lifted her shoulders before dropping them. She had gone somewhere else. Shit.

Gingerly, he maneuvered her into his arms to carry her up the stairs. He needed to clean her and wipe away the remnants of tonight’s mistakes. His mistakes.

***

"Get in the shower," he instructed, but she wasn't moving. He sighed, tenser now. He figured a hot shower would have excited her. A luxury neither of them had had in months, maybe longer. Joel frowned and scraped a hand over his face. 

She'd killed before, so he wasn't sure what this was? She seemed broken. Carefully, he reached for the hem of her jeans only to find her belt gone. He inhaled sharply as he began to scrutinize the rest of her outfit. He'd assumed things had gotten messy in the fray. Her sleeve was torn, and there was swelling along her throat. He took her face into his hands and moved it left to right, right to left. Looking closer, he realized her bra straps had been wrenched loose. Buttons missing on her shirt. When he pulled the collar to the side, he found a distinct bite mark. 

Joel cursed, jerking away instantly. She didn't flinch, only stared up at him sadly. 

He hadn’t meant to. It had been a reflex. A very poor one. He needed to try a softer approach and show her he wasn't fearful of her. He'd just been surprised. 

He reached for her again and began rubbing her shoulders. He found them cold and damp. Clammy. 

"They weren't infected." He was stating it as fact. Hoping.

She bit her lip. 

"Work with me here, baby. They weren't infected, right?"

She swallowed and shook her head. "It wasn't that." She blinked dazedly before continuing. "They tried…" she trailed off, and her eyes began to fill with tears. She pulled her lower lip between her teeth, chewing hard as if she couldn't say the rest. She averted her gaze, and Joel felt sick.

"They didn't, Joel," she whispered. "They-they-"

He reacted immediately. 

Wrapping his arms around her, he hauled her body to his chest. "They tried," he confirmed. "They tried, and they didn't get close. You took care of 'em."

She broke.

She began sobbing into his shirt, muffling her mouth against the denim fabric. She was shaking, and Joel felt inadequate-completely lost. Inexplicably, he decided that this would be something Luke would most likely excel at. Kindness. Empathy. Understanding. Joel only felt nauseous. He felt ill with guilt and then had to banish the thought away, disappointed at his pettiness. She needed him, so he cupped the back of her head, using his thumb to draw tiny circles above her ear. 

After a few minutes, he spoke gently. "Do you want to shower?"

She fisted his collar, her back hitching under his hand. She was working herself up again, straying very close to a panic attack. He had to calm her down.

"I'll go in there with you," he offered. "I won't leave."

She stilled, though her shoulders continued to tremble in spurts of aftershocks. He could smell the blood on her. Rusty and metallic. 

"Okay," she agreed.

***

The shower felt good. Better than good. It was narrow and cramped, but she didn't seem to mind. In fact, she burrowed into Joel's naked chest, desperate to feel his skin. He had even been willing to get in fully clothed.

"You've been through a lot. I don't want to make you uncomfortable-"

"Shut up, Joel. It's fine."

The room was humid with steam, the air tinged with old blood. The shower floor had turned pink, and Joel had to detangle himself from her to search for wounds. He'd found a slit in her side, just beneath her ribs. Hardly serious, but it had to have stung. With a bar of valuable ivory soap that had been just lying on the shower step, he carefully dragged it over the injury. He crouched low, one hand holding her hip as he cleaned her. 

She said nothing as she watched him, her fingers running through his hair. Somewhere between washing her toes and beneath her breasts, he felt a strange affection for her. This was the most intimate thing they had ever done. The gentleness. The womb-like shower. The dim lights. 

 When he was done, he kissed the wound under her ribs, lips firm against velvety skin. He stood, and she regarded him with tender curiosity, her eyes far more present than they'd been ten minutes ago. He pulled her to him, his cock slightly stiffening simply because she was beautiful and molded into his frame, and his body reacted to her regardless of his intentions.

"I was scared," she confessed as the water sluiced down them, drumming the tile floor. "I was so scared they'd killed you already, and I couldn't do anything."

"I think," he said, lightly teasing. "You managed to do quite a bit."

She huffed, shoving her face into his throat, nose rooting along his jaw. She used enough force that his back hit the wall and his arms automatically rose to cradle her. He said nothing, just let her find him, use him as she needed. She'd been terrified for him even when they'd attempted to harm her. He swallowed thickly as a new wave of anger pulsed in the trenches of his marrow. He hoped one was still breathing downstairs, unable to move. Joel would make it hurt.

He felt her shift in his arms, and as she relaxed, it cooled his temper. She stood on tiptoes, her mouth running along his ear. He shivered and attempted to calm himself down-think of anything else. 

"I did it for me," she whispered. "But-but I also did it for you. I'd kill for you if I had to."

Stunned, he gripped the nape of her neck and forced her face from his throat. He pulled her eyes to his. He wanted to tell her that she'd certainly already done that. He didn't want her to have to, even if it shot heat through his bones.

"You did a hell of a job," he managed to say instead. He was drunk off the shower steam and hot water, and her breath was cool against his mouth. "You did so fuckin' well, sweetheart."

***

Afterward, Joel tucked her into one of the beds. She reached for him, her lids heavy and movements sluggish. He promised her he'd come back after he checked the house. He didn't kiss her, but he thought about it. Things were changing. He shook his head, interning those worries for another day. He swapped his tenderness with something easy. 

Anger.

He found outrage and clawed his fingers into its familiar texture. 

There it was. Fury and revenge were his old, perfect lovers, and he felt them as he stood outside her door. They touched him, caressed him, begging to be used.

For her. 

Joel would do this for her even if it meant nothing. Even if the damage was already done. He needed somewhere to put it. He needed somewhere to place those emotions because he certainly wouldn't take it out on her, fuck her simply for stress relief after what had happened tonight. 

"Joel?" From inside the room, her voice rang small. It distressed him. Bury that, too. 

He rested his forehead against the closed door, sighing. "Yeah?"

"Will you check if they're gone, please?"

"Of course."

***

Silently, he went downstairs, found a hammer from one of the men's belt loops, and then ruined whatever she had left still whole in the dining room. Skulls. Ribs. Bones. He crushed them all, fractured them to bits and pieces for what they had done to him and his. 

[mazikeenhyde]

Less than a minute...

(Ive decided to be brave, I always wanted to try my hand at writing fan fiction so here we go! If i got anything wrong, like warnings for example please let me know so i can fix it! )

WARNING – 

A Poly!Judgment-Day fanfiction containing themes and mentions of DEPRESSION, LONLINESS, SOME SMUT, ANGST, SADNESS, ALCOHOL etc 

Overall, I’m just trying to make you all cry… 

READER X JUDGMENT DAY/POLY! – Rhea, Damien, Finn, Dominik x READER- Written in first person with Y/N (Reader Female)  

Italic font – flashback, speech or memories

Less than a minute 

The hotel room was quiet, the cheap TV fixed to the wall showing Monday night Raw on a low volume mixed in with the sounds of footsteps in the corridor, each sound filling the hot humid air. Outside the rain lashed down, heavy rainclouds hung low in the night sky blocking out the starlight, yet the full moon powered through, illuminating the streets, reflecting in the puddles that ran along the gutter line. 

 It was late, most of these anonymous guests rushing around just outside our door would be returning from busy work days to catch up on sleep or be heading out for a fun night on the town.  A blissful life for most, a chance to escape their homes and stay in a bed with room service, maids to clean up after you and a reception for any assistance required! I hated it though; it wasn’t my choice but when you are on the road traveling for what felt like 300 days of the year with your partners there isn’t much of an option. A different country every month, a different state every week, Christ a different town every night. I longed for those one-off days where we were all free to do nothing. Something many people take for granted is the ability to do nothing, and I missed it. 

Life felt far too chaotic, and despite being in a 5-way Polyamory relationship, I’d never felt so alone. I longed to go home, back to our own little house, we had been away for so long now. I could picture it, the front room shelves filled up high with my collection of books. My own little library I had spent a lifetime building now just collecting dust. The cabinets filled with Dominik’s board games that had bought about so many nights of endless laughter and equally some rather extreme arguments over winners, losers, cheaters and a half empty liquor cabinet that had been drained dry after a game of Scrabble. I still laugh now thinking back to when Rhea would demand the Alexa to define a word, we were sure Dominik had made up. Still, you could always rely on Finn to settle the score with a round of tequila shots and an accidental knock of the board. 

“Oh no!” Finn would laugh as he ‘accidently’ kicked the board off and onto the floor. 

“The board fell… guess we will have to play something else aye lass” he stated sarcastically, winking at me as he passed over one of the shot glasses. 

“I wouldn’t say No to a game of Twister” Damien suggested, raising his eyebrows as he took his shot and ran his fingers down my back. I swear that man would give me goosebumps from the top of my head to the center of my core with just a passing look and that fiendish glint in his eye! 

Rhea was quick to move herself over towards us resting her head in my lap, turning her view point to a more favored position. “I’ll second that” she smiled gently kissing the inner of my thigh, my breath was hitched, excited and on edge all at once. 

“Well I’m calling it!  I won..” Dominik stated with a huff as he began to pick the letter tiles up off the floor. Smirking over at him we each adorned a loveable gleam towards the boy. A little brat at the best and worst of times, but we wouldn’t have changed him for the world. 

Moving Rheas head onto Damien’s lap where the two of them began their own little make out session I crawled my way round to Dom, helping collect the remaining tiles off the floor and boxing his board game up. 

Smiling into his eye line I whispered ‘Never change who you are Dom Dom, We will always be here and we will always love you”

“What about when they break us up though?” he asked, I could hear the anxiety in his voice, his eyes. “I have to turn on Rhea and…and..” 

I held him close, his hands holding tightly to my back and I could hear his gentle muffled cries. 

“You’ll never be alone Dom, I love you so much. Even if I’m not always there to hold your hand, ill never be far away” I whispered in his ear. 

“Less than a minuite?” he smiled. 

-----

I couldn’t deny how much love I felt for each of them, work life had been tough for the four of them after the WWE had stated they would be splitting the group up to start a new storyline involving the likes of Liv Morgan, JD & Carlito. It didn’t stop the love we had for each other, but it certainly made traveling together difficult! I often reminded them that unlike myself none of them exactly blended into a crowd. 

Sitting in the middle of this king size bed I pulled my knees up to my chest, I had stolen Damien’s hoodie and a pair of rhea’s gym shorts in the hopes of being comfortable enough to focus while I studied my textbooks, but alas tonight my mind was elsewhere. I had been studying Law for some time, it had always been such a passion of mine and thankfully no matter where we slept I could bring my books and get my head down while my partners entertained the world. It also came in quite handy when certain members of the group had one too many drinks on a night out and needed some help in escaping the police without legal prosecution. Dominik can tell the world he did hard time in jail all he likes, but it was me that got the little brat released early after a dramatic night with Rhea at his parents’ house on thanksgiving. 

The WWE had offered me a position on their legal team once I had passed all my exams, yet that was over a year ago. I had deferred my exam date twice already, I wasn’t sure what was wrong with me but I didn’t feel the love, the passion or the joy I had done surrounding myself in plans for my future dream career, I was starting to worry I had wasted all these years for nothing.

Finn was always the voice of reason; he would often sit and help me revise while Rhea and Dom would shower together after the gym and Damien would take a nap. He was the voice of reason in the group, the glue that held us all together when things got tough. It was Finn that supported us all the most when our relationship went public, none of us had wanted to hide how we felt and the WWE were supportive, but that didn’t stop the online hate. The four of them were use to random strangers throwing insults due to the nature of their job, and thankfully I wasn’t of much interest to the fans. We had done our best to keep me away from the public eye, almost everyone just assumed I was part of the WWE teams supporting the group. There were a few fan speculation pages online who loved to play the guessing game but the majority saw me as nothing, as no one. 

Finn always knew when something was wrong, he hadn’t wanted to leave me this evening but I had persuaded them all to go on the promise when they returned we could order in and cuddle up to watch a new release on tv if we connected Damien’s laptop. 

“Chicken tenders! Ooh and nuggies?” Dom said, looking around the room in minor disbelief as we all looked at him with smiles. “What?” he asked. 

“Really Dom? Chicken tenders, I’d never have guessed that bro. There’s me thinking you’d want Sushi!” Damien stated sarcastically with a smirk as he zipped up his duffel bag. 

“Ew, raw fish? Bleugh! That’s gross!” Dom was genuinely disgusted at the idea. 

“Hey! Don’t knock Sushi you little squinnie! Just because the rest of us have some foodie culture, your mother should have had you expand your pallet better!” I replied as I walked over and flicked Dom on the head. He was quick to wrestle me up and onto his shoulder, spinning me round onto the bed where he climbed on to pin me down. 

“Uh Excuse me! I think you’ll find…Mami! has expanded my pallet just fine hermosa!” He stated, daring his lips closer to mine. 

“Oh I bet..” I whispered to him closing the gap between us, our lips aching to touch. “Your pallet has had its fair share of tasting sessions aye Dom Dom” 

Before he could respond Damien wrapped his arms around Dominik’s waste pulling him off me and planting him back down to earth, ruffling his hair upon release. 

“Alright you two, break it off!” Damien patted Dom on the chest as he tossed over his rucksack from the chair. I bought my chest up leaning back on my hands winking at Dom as he scowled at me with a mix of frustration and cheek. 

Rhea walked out from the bathroom with Finn following in tow, slapping Dom on the ass and wrapping her arm around his neck. 

“Behave yourself Dom Dom” Rhea said before looking over at me on the bed, “You too Bunny, Brats be warned there will always be consequences.” She laughed and pulled Dom towards the hotel door blowing me a kiss as the two of them headed out to work. Damien followed suit leaning down on the bed to kiss my forehead. 

“Te amo, Hermosa” he held the back of my neck touching foreheads before following Rhea and Dom. 

“Ill catch up with you three downstairs” Finn said and Damien gave him a thumbs up as he headed out the hotel room door and closed it behind them. 

Finn took a seat next to me on the bed as I sat up properly and moved to the edge, adorning one of those fake convincing smiles that had worked so many times before. 

“A night of studying then? We won’t be back too late I promise, you can pick the film tonight. I dread another of Rheas slasher films aye. We will be up all night watching the door” Finn said with a gentle nudge to my shoulder. I just nodded, unsure of how to respond. It was strange, I could hide myself in the love and laughter I felt for them all, the never ending flirting and sexual frustration that would build when we were in a room. But a reminder of the real world, of the real life we were living was enough to shatter my dreams back to reality. Every day was blending into one, the repetitive endeavors were tearing my soul apart. Tears began to fill the corners of my eyes as I was quick to stand and rub them away taking a sharp breath. I knew inside I was breaking, I was like a ticking time bomb and I needed to protect them all. Finn leapt up to his feet spin me around and face him.

“Y/N, listen to me lass, you know we all love you. No matter what, no matter how hard it all gets, whether you sit the exams and pass or fail.” Finn held his hands to my face cupping my cheeks. 

Finn had suspected something was wrong for a while, he and Rhea had sat down with me before to talk. They knew about my past, the scars I had whilst silver and faded now were a window into a past life I had battled for so long to break free from, always terrified it would find me again. I was like a rabbit in headlights when it all got to much, I would freeze in fear of my mind running away with my sanity. Hence the nickname Bunny. 

“I don’t know what is wrong with me..” My voice was fragile, broken. 

Finn held me in a close hug, his warm embrace relighting the fire inside my chest, a willing to keep going forward. The serenity was quickly broken by a car horn beeping outside followed by a text alert on Finns phone. 

BRAT NO.2  -

“Oi! Save some of her for the rest of us Finn >_< get your ass down here! We’re gonna be late!”  

Finn shook his head, “That boy tests my patience to its limit at the best of times, ive a good mind to put him over my knee’ 

I laughed wiping my eyes with my sleeves “Only if you let me watch” 

He smiled and held me close, “I can stay, if that’s what you need?” 

I shook my head and released him from the hug, “No. its okay, you go kick ass! I’m gonna jump in the shower and try to get in a quick nap before I crack on with those books, can’t defer the exam forever!” 

“We will be back before you know it” Finn said softly 

“Less than a minute?” I half smiled

“Less than a minute” He returned the all too familiar phrase. Finn kissed my forehead before getting his bag of the chair and reaching into his pocket to get his phone that had started to ring. He answered the call whilst slumping his bag over his shoulder and nodding his head goodbye to me before heading out the door. 

“Dominik, I am telling you now! I swear to god if you don’t…” Finns voice faded out as he continued down the hotel hallway, the door closing behind him. 

Taking a deep breath I shook off the heavy emotional cloak weighing me down and headed for the shower. 

4 HOURS LATER   - 

Looking around the rather large hotel room we had booked for the night I came to wonder; anyone would have thought we would have been used to this horrendous decor by now. No matter where we stayed every room felt much the same, whether it was the dismal wall art, low pressure shower heads or dull painted walls that felt like they were closing in. Though I knew the others were not fazed by it, they very rarely spent a lot of time in these rooms, aside from catching up on missed sleep or dancing the devils tango with any sparing energy the four of them would be in the gym or at the WWE training centers for live shows or TV. 

Sitting here I couldn’t steady my mind, I felt lost, lonely, empty even. It wasn’t their fault, they showered me in affection, I could want for nothing but more time with them. Yet it wasn’t that either, no amount of time in the arms of Rhea could fix the damage, she was the only woman I could love with the entirety of my heart, but as incredible as she was, even Rhea Bloody Ripley couldn’t fight off the demons inside me. 

The deeper I looked the more the world felt wrong. It all felt alien, uneasy, I wondered if it was just me, was I the problem? I checked the time, just after 10pm, they would be back soon enough, why did that bring about such panic, an anxiety drowning my heart, my breathe hitched and I felt it. You just know don’t you, it could have been years, weeks, days, hours or minutes that you had been fighting the voices in your head, the devil on your shoulder, but I was so lost in it all I just wanted to be alone. 

Slipping  off the bed I pulled on my socks and trainers and headed for the door. Pausing in the doorway I felt my heart sink a little, maybe this was it, maybe I wasn’t what I had promised I would be. 

A single tear fell down my cheek as I closed the hotel room door behind me, leaving my phone and keys on the nightstand. I needed to break free, only time would tell how long for, but I needed to feel. I needed to escape the War inside my head and the only way I knew how to do that, was to run. 

1 HOUR LATER   - 

Rhea and Dom walked through the carpark with his arm wrapped around her waist as they headed towards the rental car. It had been a hard night for them and all they wanted was to climb into bed with their girl and sleep. Damien followed just behind the both of them carrying the groups bags. Finn bringing up the rear of the group was locked into his phone, his face filled with concern for their girl who hadn’t responded to a single text all evening. They had received a message from the WWE management team that they could leave early to limit fan interaction ahead of SummerSlam. 

Climbing into the rental car Dom, Rhea and Damien waited for Finn. 

“Maybe she fell asleep studying?” Dom asked as Finn sat in the back passenger seat. 

Rhea had her phone up to her ear listening to a never ending ringing on the other end, Voicemail again. “Bunny? please call me back.” She ended the call and looked up to Damien in the drives seat. 

“Priest, Floor it!” 

--------

Reaching the hotel all four of them raced from the car inside, adrenaline fed through them as they reached the hotel room. 

Hands shaking Rhea swiped the card multiple times before holding it still long enough to enter. The realization. The Silence. It was deafening.

Damien rushed in to check the bathroom as Finn scrambled around the room with Dom, looking for something, for someone they knew wasn’t there. Rhea stood frozen in the doorway, in silence, her eyes locked in. 

“Rhea?” Dom hastily rushed over, hand on her shoulder as he turned to her eye line. There it was, on the bedside table. 

Finn edged his way over to the bedside as Damien came back into the room. Hands shaking nervously Finn reached down and picked up Y/N phone and hotel keycard. 

They all shared a look between each other, a look of fear and confusion. What were they meant to do now? Where did Y/N go? 

“I shouldn’t of left her…” Finn held the phone tightly pacing the same two steps over. “I could see it, I saw it, I shouldn’t of left her…” Finn repeated again. 

“Finn?” Dom hesitantly questioned his actions. 

Rheas demeanor quickly turned and she slammed her hand against the doorframe and rushed out followed by Finn and Damien desperate to find their girl. 

“Dom stay here! In case she comes back!” Damien yelled, he paused in the hall before rushing back to the room and holding Dominick’s face in his hands. “We will find her, I promise, we will all be back before you know it” Damien kissed his forehead before turning and running back out the door. 

Dom was frozen on the spot, he couldn’t move, he looked around the room at abandoned study books, half unpacked suitcases and clothing discarded on the floor. He felt smaller than ever before, his heartbeat felt cold, his chest filled with butterflies and his hands cold to touch. 

Walking over to the window that stood from floor to ceiling he held his hand to his chest tearing up at the rain lashing down outside . “Less than a minute?” 

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Familiar Faces

Tech x Reader

Summary- Techs death was not a reality you were ready for, you relied so much on his love. After months of grief, you find he might not actually be dead.

A/N- SPOILERS FOR TBB SEASON 3 EP 7. I know nothing is confirmed about Tech, but watching this newest episode has got my brain working overtime with fic ideas!

Word Count- 2,708

The cart creaked across the rail line, sending shivers down your spine. There wasn't much keeping all of you up. Inches from falling thousands of feet to your death. The clouds didn't help either, you couldn't see anything.

You fired away, missing most of the time. Everything was happening so fast. A mission gone wrong. Your thoughts were stopped by Hunter's yelling.

"Three ships inbound!" He informs, even when you saw nothing in the sky- you trusted him. He knew better than any of you.

Shortly you heard them coming, the roar of the engines were loud. Soon followed by it's blaster's shaking the cart.

"Tech we need power!" Hunter commands. You work on pure adrenaline and fire at the ships closing in.

One of them is shot down, but not before it knocks out one of the support hooks. You feel the ground shift down, leaning.

Like a breath of fresh air, you hear Tech's voice. Him yelling back "Echo, Now!" was enough to calm you.

"We're online!" Echo retorts. You can't help your grin rising. Finally, things were looking up.

Though, you didn't need Hunter to tell you three more ships were headed your way.

"Tech, hurry." You called out.

You and Omega blasted at one of the new ships, effectively destroying its wing. It crashed down in a black smoke.

From this black smoke a fourth ship came. It was too quick- it shot at Tech, who was still running towards you. He gave a yelp as he fell off the support beam.

Your eyes widened as you gasped, body craning to try and see him. He had a hard landing, but was standing to his feet on the falling compartment of the cart.

It rumbled and shook, about to crash down.

You ran to the back of the cart, trying to get closer. "Tech!" You watched in horror as he tripped back with the rest of the detached pieces.

His grappling hook barely caught onto a stray metal piece. His body bounced back at the tension. "Don't move! I'll pull you up." You tried to reach his line, but it seemed impossible without everyone toppling over into the abyss.

"I-I can't reach!" You called over comms.

"I will climb up, do not risk falling over." You nodded at this, forgetting he couldn't see you. He was more worried for you than himself.

"Come on Tech, hurry!" Wrecker booms, coming over to see what the status was.

You could feel Tech roll his eyes, "I am climbing as fast as I can!"

His grunts break your heart, he panted as he tried to pull himself up. Storm troopers still fired all around you. One of the blast forcing Tech to fall even further.

"Tech!" This time it came from Omega. Your heart was beating too fast to think and speak. You were so worried.

"Why aren't we moving?" Hunter asks Echo. "The cart is being ripped from the back."

The very cart Tech was holding on to for dear life.

You frantically looked to Hunter. "Wrecker, get him on board!" He instructs.

"No, you're too big." You push past Wrecker to take a step on the falling cart.

It creaked loudly, almost giving out. "NO! Don't!" Tech yells up at you. Your eyes connect through the ripped metal. "Any shift in weight could send both of these carts over."

Incoming ships shoot at Techs line, he dropped down again.

"You must sever the connection hinge. Now!" Tech says.

Your face falls. "Are you crazy! No, you'll go over!" Tears welled up in your eyes. There had to be another way.

Another creak and shift. You were almost thrown over by the rocking.

Tech gave out a heavy sigh. This time he spoke gentle, saying your name. "There is no time..."

"Tech, please no!" You begged. He pulled out his blaster, not looking away from you. He was going to sever the connection himself.

"No!" You screamed, desperate. Your tears were falling faster than ever.

"Plan 99... I love you" He started. With a deep breath you yelled, "Don't you dare!"

"You can't! Please!" You sobbed, still trying to get closer. You heard Wrecker straining behind you, he was trying to hold the falling cart up.

"When have we ever followed orders?"

A shot rang out, he fell.

A piercing scream erupted. You almost didn't recognize that it was your own.

Your instincts kicked in and you tried to leap down, like you could still save him somehow. Wrecker was too fast and caught you, his arm throwing you back into the safe cart.

"No, NO let me go!" You tried to fight off Wrecker, but he was far too strong. He pinned you down easily.

You were hysterical, arms wailing at anyone who kept you from jumping after him. Later, when you were thinking straight- you'd thank them.

"He's gone, he's gone!" You sobbed out, devastated. Your screams filled the air, shocking a few storm troopers close by.

Echo wired the cart to start moving and get everybody to safety.

That was months ago. Just the thought could bring you to tears. You had lost everything you felt the reason to live for. He was your everything. His incompetence for social queues, his punctual speech, his stupidly intelligent brain. All of it was yours, and now it was all gone.

A deep depression fell over you, the only thing driving you was Hunter and Wrecker. They inspired you how hard they fought for Omega. It warmed your heart in your worst times.

It hurt immensely when you heard his name, but it got easier to get out of bed. It got easier to smile again.

Eventually, you reconnected with Omega and started defending Crosshair. Something that was typically Tech's job... You knew you had to take on more responsibilities and make up for the time you were down.

You constantly wondered if Tech would be proud of you.

You and the rest of The Batch found yourselves helping Rex, then... escaping with Rex. An enemy assassin leading the Empire to us.

The nine of you hurried down a secret passage way, to a leach vessel.

The soft clicks of the steps soothed you in some wicked way, even when everyone was running for their lives.

"Stop!" Crosshair yelled out. You turned to look at him, he took a few steps back to look out a carved hole in the stone. "They are coming..."

Just then, a shot rang out. Another assassin hung from the inner walls.

Crosshair ducked behind the wall, "Go, I'll handle it."

The rest of the squad moved down, but you stayed. "I'll help."

That was until you peaked around the hole, getting a glimpse of the man. A rush a deja vu consumed you. Your breath quickened. Why was this man so familiar?

You pushed it down, you had already let your feelings get the best of you too many times. It can't happen again. You fired at him, Crosshair backing you up.

Crosshair put an explosive at the end of his shotgun, catching the man off guard. It threw him off the wall. The two of you headed to the ship.

A blast to the ship sent all of you crashing down. You briefly heard Rex sending Echo a message about an extraction.

Commotion ensued, but it all ended with you falling and getting a bad headache. Your helmet did not do much to cushion the hit.

The rest of the team was briefly recovering from the crash as well, but you had to get a move on.

"We've got attack shuttles inbound." Hunter noted.

"This way." Rex lead.

You traveled on foot in the woods, trying to lose the storm troopers. Fighting them off was light work. One however, stood out from the rest.

Crosshair proved your suspicions when he frantically turned around, gun raised.

"What is it?" Hunter questioned. He got his answer when the assassin shot at us.

With our numbers down and the assassin having the upper hand, Crosshair suggested "I'll draw his fire out. Get to the rendezvous."

You heard Omegas small voice through comms, "I don't like that idea..."

"Too bad." He responds, already crouched behind a rock to fire.

Looking at Omegas worried gaze, "Go, I'll make sure he doesn't get himself killed."

Omega nods at you, then joins Hunter's side. Crosshair just grunts in acknowledgement.

In truth, Crosshair didn't need you. Though, you both knew that Omega needed the peace of you fighting with him. Two verses one had much better odds.

You heard Rex commanding the rest of the squad to move out. You and Crosshair pursued the assassin.

He gave out hand signals, letting you know he was above you. You nodded, sneaking around.

The assassin saw you easily, perfect. He was distracted just enough for Crosshair to get a hit on him, knocking his balance off.

Your face dropped when the assassin recovered in record time, it was like he hadn't even been hit. He now caught you by surprise when he shot at your hand, you lost your weapon. Damn. All you had left was a blade, which you now grasped.

To your dismay, Crosshair had already taunted the assassin away from you. No doubt on purpose.

It took you a minute to find them, Crosshair had followed him to a waterfall. One with rapids at the bottom. The booming of the current was distracting.

You crouched down, keeping a low profile. Crosshair and the assassin fought vigorously. When you saw an opportunity, you jumped.

You tried to get your blade around his neck or at least cut his suit. The assassin was stunned for a second, giving Crosshair time to recover.

The man disarmed you, overpowering you in strength. You fell back with a thud, your helmet flying off. You scrambled to stand, but was forced to stay down because of a stray blast. It just missed your head.

The assassin seemed to know every single move Crosshair made. Like, he had studied Crosshair's fighting technique multiple ways, There was only one man who you knew did that, and he was dead.

The stranger knocked Crosshair to his knees, a gun to his head.

The man now looked to you, ready to dispose of you as well.

You sat up, but did nothing to fight back- fear of him shooting Crosshair.

He however, stopped in his tracks. You just stared, confused. He looked to you, maybe in disbelief?

He, not moving his gaze, stunned Crosshair. You were in shock that he didn't kill him... The thud of Crosshairs body made you jump.

You slowly rose to your feet, you somehow didn't feel threatened by the man anymore.

Now that you stepped closer to him, he stepped back. He seemed to be fighting with himself... Throwing his blaster as far as he could away.

His hands moved to grip the sides of his head, in pain. He stumbled back, head barred down. With a loud 'thud' he fell on his rear.

He scratched at his helmet, trying to take it off. Something inside of him wouldn't let him. He was in turmoil with himself.

Did you feel pity for the man? You slightly shook your head, baffled at what you saw. He was so vulnerable now, you should have killed him for what he did to Crosshair. At least Stun him.

You couldn't find it in yourself. He looked so confused with himself, so conflicted. Your heart wrenched, but why?

Your own actions shocked you, stepping closer to him. You lowered yourself to your knees, inches away. You were skeptical but determined.

He stopped his frantic movements when your hands moved to his head. He let you do as you pleased, frozen in place.

You kept your eyes on him as you gently lifted his helmet. You only got it up enough to see the mans eyes, a deep brown. That and his face structure was enough to tell you who it was.

The face you spent hours drooling over, embarrassing stares caught at, nights laying with. The very face you saw fall thousands of feet down to a cloudy abyss.

You gasped loudly, scrambling back. No, NO. It wasn't him. It couldn't be him...

Your reaction seemed to have broken him out of his haze. His helmet fell back down, covering his face. He, almost instinctively, moved to you. You were too shocked to fight back. He swiftly grabbed your wrist, pulling you up.

The grip was tight, you winced. The man realized his mistake immediately and loosened the grip. if he wanted to kill you, why was he worried about your wrist?

When you were sitting back up, the man reclined on his knees. He slowly moved his hands up to the helmet again, this time with more control.

He raised it completely off. It was him.

Both hands moved to cover your gaping mouth. How? HOW?

"T-Tech?" You called out, voice cracking.

He squinted his eyes and had one hand holding the side of his head in pain.

"You must take Crosshair and run, now." He ended by saying you name desperately.

"W-what? No, I am not leaving you. Tech, what happened? How are you alive!" You leaned to him, wanting nothing more than to hold and kiss him.

He moved back, your touch like fire.

"You have to go. I do not know how much longer I can hold off the chip. I do not want to hurt you." He looked at the ground, ashamed.

"You won't. I know you won't..." You moved closer again, resting a hand over his. You slowly moved it off of his head, holding it. He breathed hard.

"Any better?" You ask. "Yes, I would suspect my will to keep you safe overrided the new chip the Empire has put in my head." You smiled, finally leaning forward to hold him.

The second your arms wrapped around him, you sobbed. It all felt like a dream- well, nightmare.

"I thought you were dead... Tech, oh my Tech." He hugged back, petting your hair. You both frantically proclaimed 'I love you's.' But, he soon pulled away.

"I will not put you at risk any longer." He moved to stand up,

"I just got you back, why are you leaving me?" You couldn't understand.

He stood up, saying your name in a whisper. "I thought I made it clear. My new inhibitor chip is stronger. I am assigned to kill you. I do not want to do such a thing, ever."

"Tech, just please come with me. Rex is with us, he can help remove this one. Just like the others..." You grabbed onto his arm, pleading. How did he expect you to walk away, leave him behind. Especially when you just figured out he was alive.

"I suppose that might work..." He rested a hand to his chin, thinking. More tears flowed from your eyes, he was exactly how he was before. Always calm, always thinking everything through with a steady heart beat.

You looked up at him. "Please, I need you. I-"

"I know. I need you too. I uh- I apologize for shooting you." He said as-a-matter-of-factly.

Your eyebrows furrowed, "You didn't mean to.." You leaned up to kiss him, but something switched in him.

His face twisted and turned, he stepped back. He was fighting himself again, now a hand reached for his blaster. He looked up, face cold and blank. He pointed the gun at your face.

"Tech, Tech, it's just me!" He didn't care, he had a mission to fulfill. The chip was regaining control.

Suddenly, his body quivered and shook. He fell to the ground. Crosshair stood behind.

"Please don't kill him!" You ran to him, making sure he was aware of the situation.

"I know, his chip... I'll carry him back. Rex can look at him." You were hopeful, he was coming home.

It would be a rocky start, but he was alive. He was alive and half-conscious. That was a problem for when you got back on the ship.

For just a second, watching Crosshair hoist Tech up, you relaxed. The pounding of the water on rocks soothed you.

He was alive...

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I hated the ending, sorry ya'll had to go through that. I didn't know how to end it! I was so motivated with this plot, then kind of lost it. Expect a Crosshair fic this weekend!!!

Tags- (LMK if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss

[chaifootsteps]

Do you mind giving a recap for those of us who dropped the show ages ago?

Episode begins with Millie happily coming in to work.

Blitzo is spiraling hard over the fact that his rapist wrote him off, blowing all the company's money/M&M's pensions on taxidermy owls (that he makes Loona burn) and horse plates while gorging on cheese whiz and TV in his office. This has been going on for a month.

Millie hasn't been paid in a month. Moxxie's melting down trying to make the numbers add up.

Client who was killed by a ghost comes in, Millie says humans only go to one of two places when they die and ghosts don't exist. Blitz is super jazzed for it though, so Blitz and Millie take the job.

Blitz dresses and larps as the sexy ghosthunter from the show he likes. About a million unfunny sex jokes ensue.

Blitzo uses a vibrator as a ghost tracking device. I wish I was kidding.

Rolando, the guy from the leaks, works at the hotel. He's voiced by John Waters.

Blitz runs around the hotel in ghosthunter drag with a "ghost sucker" machine, disturbs a naked elderly couple who swear at him, a poorly done Scooby Doo chase scene ensues.

I can't stress enough how unfunny the first half of this episode is.

Millie just kind of takes all of this because "he needs this", eventually snaps and she and Blitz split up.

John Waters attacks Blitz with black goo and visions of people from his life telling him he sucks, including his mother.

Blah blah blah nothing happens, Millie finds Blitz curled up sobbing and a flashback ensues.

Millie used to be a total fucking badass assassin from Wrath until Blitz walked in, grappled with her, and in a scene that feels vaguely ripped off from Firefly, hires her. This is how she met Moxxie.

The fact that Blitz worked for himself is unprecedented, shame how little it's come up over the course of the show.

We see Blitz moving them all into their current headquarters, Millie says they don't deserve it, Blitz tells her to knock it off because he's poured blood, sweat, and sex into this and yes they do.

Millie's got some hangups over only being the hired muscle but fortunately doesn't try to hang herself on screen over it like in the leaks.

Millie relies on Blitz, looks up to him, was surprised to see him brought so low by the fact that the guy who coerced him into a sexual deal while listening to him be shot at doesn't want to date him anymore.

No, they don't address that last part. Of course not.

They realize their guy is a "fester demon."

Something something whatever.

Ronald McDonald possesses Blitz, makes him watch more footage of himself "ruining peoples' lives" ala A Clockwork Orange. This mostly consists of Stolas having his feelings hurt by being rightfully called out for his sexual abuse of Blitz.

I guess Cash was the one to tell Blitz Fizz didn't want to see him in the hospital but it's a blink and you miss it scene.

Millie pounds the shit out of Rolaids because she knows Blitz can take it, Blitz horks him up into the pool, then electrocutes him.

They get out of there because "hotels suck." It's not funny.

Millie calls Blitz her best friend. No indication of this has ever appeared in the show before.

Blitz has never had a friend he didn't want to fuck before. The show's words, not mine.

Blitz is done trying to muscle in on M&M's relationship.

Blitz is still sad over his rapist.

Moxxie thought he balanced their books but didn't.

The end.

Viv is still transphobic.

[beatleskinkmeme]

Summer of Love Fanworks-a-thon Master Post

Please check out these fanworks and leave a comment!

Grateful for him by @johangeorghohman

5 + 1 things, 5 times George wished that Paul never met John (because George has a big fat schoolboy crush on Paul) + 1 time he was grateful that they did met

everything to be discovered by @backbenttulips

John and Paul exploring a romantic relationship with each other during the 2000s-2010s, and navigating life as famous old people and grandparents.

the size of a loneliness by @backbenttulips

Brian survives his overdose in 1967. John and Paul come stay to make sure he gets better, taking care of him in their own emotionally inept way.

Knocking at Your Door by @eveepe

5+1 fic. When they’re kids George learns that an easy way to calm Paul down when he’s getting the horrors is to give him a quick little kiss on the mouth. It becomes his go to method to soothe Paul when he needs to.

I Fancy Me Chances With You by @hootiepgh

Paul participates in a charity auction during the 70s. “Bid on a date with Paul McCartney” John pays an absurd amount of money to win. Paul is shocked. They go on the date and they’re both very awkward, neither are sure why John paid so much and what it entails.

I'll Never Do You No Harm by @hootiepgh

Aftermath of the "I want a divorce meeting," when Mal drives Paul home. Paul is broken and crying. Mal calls John and tells him how upset Paul is. John comes over. All the angst please!

But as the words are leaving his lips, a noise comes from behind by @hootiepgh

Mid-1969, Allen Klein and the Beatles are having a private meeting with Allen still trying to convince them to have him be their manager. He gets really frustrated and lashes out at one or all of them, and in an act of self defense Paul, Ringo, George, and John end up accidentally killing him. Afraid of what might happen if anyone finds out, they all agree to cover up their involvement in the crime. Their personal lives/ marriages start to crumble as they're forced to rely on each other as the only people they trust. Would like the inclusion of McLennon and George X Ringo

If I Needed Someone by @hootiepgh

Paul gets shot during the 1966 Memphis concert. John (doesn't) deals with the angst and the guilt.

Taking Trophies by @m1ssunderstanding

AU where John and Paul see each other sooner, forced into confrontation around 1971 when things were at their worst with John spewing his anger to the public and Paul taken aback by it. Of course this leads to some post-breakup, angsty, possessive sex.

Everybody Loves Somebody by @bewareofdarkness

Soulmark AU, the four of them are soulmates

invisible string by @scurator

McHarrison boat vibes on the Queen Mary for the Venus and Mars release party. Um, bonus points for George showing off that he won Bob Dylan in the divorce

deeper than oceans you run by @timrothencrantz

AU where they went through with doing Beatle island and establish their commune (?) or whatever the plan was. Polyamory ensues. This either fixes everything or makes everything worse (or somehow both)

yellow, orange, and blue, i love you by @menlove

Soulmates au where one sees colour for the first time when you touch your soulmate. I believe it would be fun to see how this would play out. This one could be a fic, a comic page or even an illustration where the boys realise what happened when they introduce themselves, whatever the artist prefers!

take it away by @monkberryfields

Younger John meets an older Paul at a record shop. Paul offers to teach John how to tune his guitar and play a few chords but at a price...

Posy by @ohjohnnysblog

Mclennon does a roleplay where they pretend John is a shy virgin groupie. Bottom! John

Banana Milkshakes and Armpit Hair by @crepesuzette2023

Will someone finally come on Paul's eyelashes?

I ain't no fool, and I don't take what I don't want by @crepesuzette2023

Mal and Paul make love al fresco during one of their trips. Paul wears nothing but the flimsy scarf he's seen wearing here.

all by design by @forthlin

the classic “john and paul do increasingly sexual things with each other while coming up with increasingly elaborate justifications for why it’s not gay” scenario, except they both DO know that it’s gay, they just each think they’re pulling a fast one by convincing the other one that this is normal guys-being-dudes behavior.

I've Just Seen a Face by @javelinbk

when John met Paul

Meeting on the Turret Stairs by @sleeper9

a John/Paul moment backstage (Hamburg/touring years/rooftop/artist's choice) based on the piece, Hellelil and Hildebrand, the Meeting on the Turret Stairs by Frederic William Burton.

Oh no, he's beautiful by @sleeper9

The first time John wears his glasses around Paul he finally gets to actually see Paul's face and oh no, he's beautiful

Run For Your Life by @pie-of-flames

A recut of any footage into some kind of Beatles horror movie trailer (maybe Paul is dead?)

**This will be updated as we get more fanworks!!

[unreliablesnake]

Tough love (Simon Riley x reader)

Note: A sad story for Valentine’s Day? Yeah, I’m sorry for ruining the mood. Tough choice is the first part but you don’t need it.

Ghost kept his distance. All you knew was his last name and his sleeping preference—sleeping for two or three hours at a time, usually in the most uncomfortable positions—nothing more, nothing less. He was strict; he was barking orders all the time, yelling your head off without even raising his voice, and giving you long lectures after the smallest mistakes.

Sometimes you thought the decision to join the 141 had been a mistake. If you were working with Price, there would be no problem. But Ghost? It felt like a nightmare most of the time. Nothing you did was right, there were approximately two times when he complimented you in the past year and that was it.

But one day while you were looking for cover on the field, a bullet grazed the microphone on your neck, successfully destroying the only equipment that kept you in touch with your superior. Despite the damage, you could still hear him. You could hear the panic in his voice, the desperate trying to get in touch with you.

“Come on, tell me you’re okay. You got out of my sight, but I saw you were shot,” he said. You wanted to answer, you wanted to tell him you were okay, but there was no way to do that. “Please, say something. I’m begging you, love.”

Love.

This was a first. He had never shown any sign of having a soft spot for you; quite the opposite, actually. You always had a feeling that you were bothering him, that maybe he would prefer to work alone rather than having to rely on your help.

But now here you were, listening to the lieutenant silently cursing to himself as he clearly tried to figure out where you were hiding. He told you he was coming for you. He told you to stay put if you could hear him. So you stayed where he said you should be waiting for him, locking the door and waiting for the three knocks that would give away it was him.

And then came the gunfire, followed by the knocks two minutes later. You opened the door without hesitation and were greeted by the familiar skull mask, but you didn’t have the chance to say anything because he pulled you into a tight hug. Hesitantly, but you wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your head against his chest.

“You’re bleeding,” he noted when he let you go and cleared his throat.

You raised your hand to your neck and saw the red liquid that tainted your skin. “Oh,” was all you said. You didn’t even notice. Must have been the adrenaline.

Ghost put a hand on the healthy side of your neck and pushed your head to the side by putting his thumb on your chin. “It’s not that deep. You’ll live.”

You gulped and tried to nod, which wasn’t an easy task given he still kept your head tilted. The silence that fell between you was something new, something you had never experienced. It felt like you were in the company of a good friend, even though you knew he barely tolerated you. Yet a small part of you that lurked somewhere in the background was trying to point out the elephant in the room.

Love.

He had called you that. Why? You desperately needed an answer to this question, but you didn’t know how to bring it up. So you remained silent and followed his instructions like a good girl. The two of you stayed together for the rest of the mission, and by four in the morning you were in the CIA safe house that Laswell offered you two.

“Why did you call me love?” you brought this up when you were both getting ready to sleep for a few hours.

He gave you a surprised look. “I didn’t.”

“You did,” you informed him, “when you tried to reach me after I was shot. Maybe you didn’t notice, but I did.”

Ghost cursed under his breath as he turned away and ran a hand over his masked face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.” Hesitantly, but you put a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. When he turned around, you noticed that there was a troubled look in his eyes now. “I know you’re probably expecting some big confession from me, but I can’t give you that. Go to sleep, we’ll leave in the morning,” he said.

Things went on as if nothing had happened that night. One mission followed another, you didn’t even have time to go home and sleep in your own bed, but at the moment you knew it was for the better. You didn’t think about that conversation, or about that cold shoulder he had been giving you for weeks now. Gaz noticed that something was off, and he clearly told the captain about his suspicion since he one day asked Ghost to talk to him in his office about something.

You only knew it was related to the tension between you because Ghost avoided you after that conversation. Maybe this was for the better. Maybe it was a sign that you should take an offer you got from Phillip Graves. Again. That guy didn’t give up, he offered you more money, better conditions, and the position as his right hand.

So you knocked on the door of Price’s office one day, taking deep breaths to calm yourself before the conversation. When you stepped inside, you found Ghost there, sitting in the chair across from the captain. You nodded with your hands folded behind your back, waiting for the lieutenant to leave or your superior to say it was okay to talk in his presence.

“What can I do for you?” Price asked with a smile, his blue eyes shining as he watched you.

Oh, how fast this happy shine will disappear once you tell him about your plan. You felt kind of bad for him. And Ghost? His eyes were darkened and emotionless. Letting out a long sigh, you took a step forward and gave Price the piece of paper you had in your hand.

“I’m leaving the 141,” you announced.

The captain groaned as he took a look at the letter. It was official, you were allowed to leave not just the task force, but the CIA as well. Laswell knew, but you had asked her not to warn her friend. Not until you had everything settled.

“Excuse me,” you suddenly heard Ghost say, then he was out the door before you could stop him.

Not like you wanted him to stay. There was nothing left to say. You didn’t feel comfortable or appreciated, so the best option for now was leaving. You weren’t running away like a coward. No. You just knew your worth.

[puckpocketed]

So do you actually believe PLD is a good player or is that part of the bit?

The PLD Post

i spent a good 2 days giggling about this to friends. i cant tell if ur a curious caps fan, a person who knows me from my other teams, a disgruntled kings fan (i’ve mostly ruled this out because im pretty sure i know all of the active ones on here) or WHAT. but i’m laughing. the tone of this ask is hilarious and vaguely accusatory but i will take it in good faith and answer <3 tl;dr yes and no. he’s better than people think he is rn, but he’s likely never going to live up to the potential of his tools unless something . idk. recalibrates his entire being. who knows!

i was working on something longer and more complex but i thought about it for more than 5 seconds and i REFUSE to go hockey-bro mode and pull out the microstats and i don’t wanna make this into a full on PLD manifesto. so. caps girlies (gn) HERE are your adoption papers under the cut!

if you are looking at pierre luc dubois who is 6’4 + 220lb and thinking “Oh he’s a power forward” i have to inform you he is in fact THEEE smallest mouse to ever play hockey in the whole world and in all of history. he sips nectar out of a thimble and sleeps curled up in a match box and goes fishing in a boat made from nutshells and twigs . he’s big, but he sort of plays small.

this is not necessarily a bad thing — he relies on foot speed and skill over hitting.

he can throw hits but prefers to stick check. he leverages his big frame to guard the puck and to defend, and it makes him simultaneously VERY effective and very much what i like to call a Nexus Of Crime. he is either drawing ten thousand penalties because people have to do something to stop him from driving the net with speed OR he is taking ten thousand penalties because he gets eager in the corners.

PLUS he’s huge and refs do just assume he’s committing a crime when they can’t see what’s going on <3 hence, Nexus Of Crime! if there’s a penalty he’s probably involved LMAO

not a “dirty” player by any means. not physical unless he decides he wants to. and there is no violence inside of him unless he’s deeply horsebonded to his team <- IMPORTANT re; playoffs aspirations. you won’t see him put himself on the line simply for the love of the game, he HAS to be committed to the team.

to be committed to his team… i’m honestly not sure what that takes. i’d guess a combination of knowing his role on the ice and in the locker room (this was very unclear on lak) consistency of messaging from coaches (also seemed to be an issue on lak)

i know nothing about caps coaching or management or the team vibes but i’m sure you can fix him <3 i’m ready to fall in love and ride this team to the sunset

this failhorse will NOT shoot the puck and if he does it will be the saddest soggiest most pathetic shot you’ve ever seen. you will tear your hair out in chunks if you watch him expecting an elite goalscorer.

he’s a pass-first guy. likes to drop pass! likes to drive play from the middle but is also capable of getting pucks off the boards. he needs a finisher on his wing. i could pull up stats here, there are stats to be pulled up, but i know this in my HEART from watching dozens of kings games: he would have had 10-15 more points easily if he wasn’t stapled to the 3rd line and had better finishers. many times i watched him tee up a very good opportunity only for his guy to miss the net or fan or just get knocked off the puck

individually, he thrives in front of the net. his ass is fat and he’s about to use it to screen the goalie. hes good at catching loose pucks in the crease to send them home <3 see his performance at worlds. he scored basically all of his goals right up there!!

most media coverage/narratives will tell you his point production dropped off bc of effort (which is true) but even the MOST resentful kings watchers will say pld wasn’t given his best shot playing with inexperienced+fringe nhlers, being line shuffled the moment he got a bit comfortable, and also not getting ANY net front time on the lak pp. i factor this into all my judgements of his performance.

He’s def earned his diva rep LMAO!! this is personal opinion here but he seems like a sensitive and easily rattled little clam… like he will have a couple of bad shifts and if there’s nobody there to shake him out of it he’ll lose his grasp on the game and play like shit <3 a rolling joke on kingstwt was figuring out which PLD we were getting that game, and you could tell by his 5th if he was switched on or off!!

they hate him for this but EYE think this is nothing new for athletes and if he can consistently stay in the zone he’ll probably be pretty good. mental fortitude of a wet tissue my beloved….

moving onto the Vibes section!! he was always good humoured in media availability and didn’t shy away from scrums even when public opinion soured against him and critiques of both his hockey and his character had reached a fever pitch. i like this about him. he always gave authentic answers and tried his best to accomodate them, and never hid behind his captains.

he gets along quite well with teammates despite the narratives. no seriously!! some of the the kings had a hang out during off-season right before they went to worlds!! there’s bisexual lighting!!!!

there’s interviews from old jets teammates that are just like. “he used to turn up at my house with his dog and text IM HERE with no warning and that’s how we became friends” or “his obsession with euro soccer teams bewitched me”. he had control of the aux cord. he was a den mother and planned group gatherings. a genuine sweetheart to every teammate he’s ever had!!

I don’t think he’s some. idk. secret 100 point producing star 1C. but i truly believe with the right environment he’ll probably hit 60 points again.

thank you for your time if you made it this far and i hope to see you all in the trenches (caps lb) next season 👍

[darkeralmond]

Luca smut… that’s the request, you pick the plot lmao

TYSM FOR THE REQUEST!! i am so obsessed with never have i ever so i just had to do this scene

Study Session

Luca Fantilli x fem! Reader

song: company - justin bieber

synopsis: y/n is luca’s tutor, and you’ve not been showing up to the past couple tutoring sessions. you and luca get in a huge argument and now you guys aren’t talking. he then crawls into your window and things get crazy

warnings: 18+, smut, p in v, she/her pronouns, luca calling u “good girl”, high school au!

word count: 1.6k

a/n: this is based off that one scene with paxton and devi from never have i ever when he crawls into her window and kisses her. literally my favorite scene ever. i’m in love with him and luca. ALSO THE EDITS TO COMPANY WITH LUCA LIVE IN MY HEAD RENT FREE

masterlist | request info

For the past couple days, Luca has been mad at you. The thing about Luca is that he was all beauty, no brains. He relied on his hockey abilities to score himself into college. He broke his arm while playing in a game which left him with a season ending injury.

Now he relied on your tutoring to help him get the grades for college. Even then, he couldn’t seem to pay attention when it came to that kind of stuff.

When Luca came up to confront you about you flaking on your guys’ tutoring sessions, it broke out into a huge public argument in the hall. In the heat of the moment, you screamed at him which you regretted deeply.

“Maybe, you should start studying on your own,” you yelled. “If you wanna be a good student, then be a good student! I can't hold your hand forever!” Like that, you stormed away. That single statement ruined that entire relationship you built up with him.

It looked like he took your advice however. He started getting A’s on his projects all without your help. You felt happy to watch him succeed independently, but it made you feel uncomfortable to know that maybe he never needed you after all.

You were laying on your bed while listening to music. You felt your phone buzz against your stomach which startled you. You had your phone on ‘do not disturb’ mode since you wanted some alone time without any distractions. You checked the notification and saw it was Luca texting you. You furrowed your eyebrows and read the text.

Luca

Wyd

Me

Nothing

Luca

Can u let me in?

There was then a knock at your window. Your breath got caught in your throat as you shot your head up. You saw Luca outside your window while the rain poured down on him. You quickly threw your phone to the side along with your headphones and got out of your bed.

You rushed over to the window and unlocked it. “Luca?” you whispered. “You’re in my house?”

“Yeah,” Luca said as he looked around your bedroom. “I guess so.” He looked back at you with a smile on his face. His hair was soaking wet, his clothes were drenched, and he was in your bedroom. You blinked a couple times as silence filled the air around you two. “Look, I just wanted to thank you for pushing me to be a better student. It felt good to finally do something well in school.”

He had never been hotter. He shot you a look with his bedroom eyes, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to wrap your head around everything currently happening. “So…” you started, “Are you here to study or…?”

That was a great question, why was he here to begin with? Was he here to study for an exam? Was he here to apologize for the argument? Was he here… for you?

He simply shook his head and muttered, “No.” You continued staring at him as he stepped closer to you. He brought his hand up to the side of your face and tucked some strands of hair behind your ear.

His touch made your body tense due to the shock. He glanced down at your lips before meeting your eyes once again. He closed the space between the two of you and kissed you.

You kissed back, your eyes fluttering close as you placed your hands on his chest. Your heart pounded faster than usual as his tongue brushed against yours. Your body was humming. You melted in his embrace and let your fingers trace patterns into his wet shirt.

This was the best feeling you ever experienced in your life. Every fiber of your body was telling you to stay right there, kissing him. You figured he was here to just study or anything else, just not this.

You pulled away and looked into his eyes. “Y/N,” he husked. Your eyebrows raised as you anticipated what he would say next. “I need you.” He needed you? This stunned you even more. “Can I please treat you like you’re mine tonight?”

The way he said those words sent a thrill through you and ignited a fire inside of you. Without saying a word, you nodded your head as you stepped back toward your bed. You sat down on the mattress and looked up at him. The dim lighting created shadows across his face which made him look angelic.

With a smirk on his face, he sat next to you on the bed and pulled you close. He wrapped his arms tightly around your waist and peppered kisses on your neck.

His hands trailed from your hips to up underneath your shirt. A small gasp escaped your lips as his cold hands came into contact with your warm skin. His mouth returned to yours, his hands cupping your breasts that were still covered by your bra.

You let a small moan slip as the kiss went on and on, deepening. It almost hurt how much you craved his touch and how badly you wanted him. The only reason he didn’t get a reaction out of you is because you were trying to keep calm, but it seemed he could sense your desire and knew what he was doing to you.

You tugged off your shirt and tossed it to the floor. Luca leaned back a bit and gazed at your body. The moonlight hits your skin perfectly making it shine and glisten. He ran his thumb along the curve of your waist, his fingertips grazing across your hip bone.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he whispered as he threw off his own shirt. All of this was happening while your parents were downstairs. You felt nervous that they could hear you right now, or that they would hear you soon.

You turned your body to face him. He stared back with hooded eyes. The moonlight illuminated his handsome features in an ethereal light. Your breathing quickened with every passing second.

He teased at the strap of your shorts which was his signal for you to take them off. You did exactly that and revealed your matching pair of panties.

Luca groaned as his colored eyes examined your exposed body. You both stopped moving as he stared up at you. “Are you on the pill?” he asked softly.

Holy shit. He wanted to actually have sex with you. It was such an abrupt realization. It took you a minute to process. “Of course, I am,” you replied with a sigh.

He nodded his head, his eyes trailing down your body. “Okay, good.” He looked back into your eyes before messing with the buckle of his belt. “Take them off,” he said as he shot a glance down at your panties.

You slowly slid them off just like he said to. He nodded his head with a smirk spread on his face. “Good girl,” he rasped. “Now lay down.”

He got up from his spot on the bed which left you more room to lay. Once you settled down, he stood in front of you with a mischievous grin. He took off his boxers revealing his large erection. “Fuck,” you muttered as your eyes widened.

He ignored your comment and grabbed your waist. He pulled you closer to him before aligning himself with your entrance. You looked up at the ceiling, your breaths shallow and quick.

You felt nervous. What if you ended up getting pregnant? What if you sounded weird when you moaned? What if you got caught? Your thoughts were interrupted by him inserting himself inside of you.

Your breath hitched as your back slightly arched. His movements were gentle. He pulled out of you a little before thrusting back in with one powerful motion. Your back arched again, but you relaxed as you realized what it was like. He began to move in and out of you at a steady pace, filling you completely. You felt so full and comfortable, it felt amazing.

You closed your eyes and breathed deeply as you allowed him to take care of you, to take care of you for once. Quiet moans slipped from your parted lips as he thrusted into you.

He was slow and gentle, obviously treating you like you were delicate. You could even hear him groan out of pleasure. You bit your bottom lip as you looked up at him. His eyes met yours, both of you were panting. It felt good. You weren’t complaining, in fact, you loved it.

Luca began to speed up his movement as you both came together. He moaned as he held you tighter. “Fuck, Y/N. I’m gonna cum,” he groaned as he kept a steady pace.

He pumped in time with his thrusts. As he climaxed, you moaned as you came too. Once you finished, you laid there as he pulled out. You heard a loud noise coming from downstairs as you both tried to catch your breath after that unraveled in under one hour.

“Uh,” you said as you sprung up. “You need to leave, now!” You then heard your mom yelled out your name from downstairs. “Uh, coming!” you shouted back as you got up. You threw on your pajamas as Luca threw on his clothes.

“That was fun,” he smirked. “I should come over for more than just study sessions.”

You would’ve been flustered by that comment, but you were too worried about not getting caught. “Yeah, yeah! Go!” You threw your shirt on and watched as he threw on his own.

He winked as he hopped out of your window and looked back. “One more kiss?” he asked.

You sighed, “Yeah.” You placed a long, lingering kiss on his lips before pulling away. “Now leave!”

He chuckled, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You smiled softly as you shut the window and quickly rushed out of your room. You just had sex with Luca Fantilli. Holy, shit. He did need you!

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

I know you've touched on it in your Gamzee Essay/general alternative timeline post but may I hear some more about your ideas regarding GamTav (or only Tavros)? You get these two in a way the broader fandom doesn't (which is fine, I'll still reblog even the most vanilla ooc art of them) so I'd really love hearing more of your thoughts:3

Ok, I think this is going to be someeewhat controversial, but I think they're destined for pale together, despite Gamzee's initial flushed flirting. I did in fact reread ALL of Tavros's logs for this.

I think the first thing we need to establish is that Tavros actually feels really shitty about himself. It's obvious that his problem is "self-esteem," since he's constantly prattling on about it, but there's a bit he says as Tavrossprite that's pretty enlightening as to where his actions stem from:

TAVROSPRITE: i SYMPATHIZE ENTIRELY WITH YOUR SOCIAL IMPASSE, cAUSING NOT GOOD REFLECTIONS ABOUT YOURSELF, tHAT MAYBE ALSO DOUBLE AS LIBERATING STUFF ABOUT YOU THAT YOU RANDOMLY DECIDE IS FINE SUDDENLY, TAVROSPRITE: oLD ACQUAINTANCES, aND GUYS YOU ONCE CALLED FRIENDS, TAVROSPRITE: tHOSE ARE VERY HARD, TAVROSPRITE: bECAUSE OVER TIME THEY GET EXPOSED TOO MUCH, tO ALL MY FLAWS AND INSECURITIES, TAVROSPRITE: aND THEY START LIKING ME LESS BECAUSE OF THAT, TAVROSPRITE: aT LEAST, tHAT'S HOW THE TRUTH FEELS, iN MY BRAIN, TAVROSPRITE: sO i START THINKING, mAYBE THEY CAN'T BE THAT IMPORTANT TO ME, aFTER ALL, iF i'M GOING TO WANT TO FEEL NOT SAD ABOUT MYSELF ALL THE TIME,

He has a mixture of self-loathing and social anxiety, the latter of which exacerbates the former, as his mind tells him that his friends secretly hate him. However, his real problem is what he then does with those feelings - he avoids them and the situations that cause them. This causes two major knock-on effects: the first is that he actively ends up distancing himself from people who ARE nice to him and DO care about him, only adventuring with Vriska because he's a pushover and she's very pushy (he adventures completely alone up until that point, and winds up sleeping almost all the time afterwards); the second being that, because he refuses to actually sit with and address his negative feelings about himself (or anything else), he's never able to fix them, or remove himself from shitty situations.

Something consistent with Tavros is that every time he tries to make a decision before his death and Vriska-prototyping, it's by trying to rely on something external - whether that's his imaginary friend, his robot legs, or the story of Pupa Pan... or relying on advice from Kanaya, or seeking approval and forgiveness from Vriska, or earning flushed interest from Jade. He believes himself to be deeply flawed and untrustworthy, so he allows other people to make his decisions, and when relationships do get intimate enough that someone might get him vulnerable, he peaces out. Even his ill-fated attempt to kill Vriska is heavily encouraged by Vriska herself:

AT: aND THAT BEING THE CASE, AT: eVEN THOUGH i'M TERRIFIED OF YOU, AT: aND nOT AS STRONG, AT: oR REAL CONFIDENT, AT: oNLY MOSTLY FAKE CONFIDENT, AG: Yeeeeeeees? AG: Go on. AT: i THINK, AT: i AM GOING TO HAVE TO STOP YOU, AG: Yeah! That's the spirit. AG: Pretty weakslime threat there, 8ut it's a start. AG: Tell you what. AG: If you can find me in this la8, you can have at me. AG: I'll even give you a free shot! No funny 8usiness or anything. AT: oK, AT: tHEN, AT: hERE i COME, AG: I'll 8e w8ing. <3

As we see with Jade, whom he's attempting to flirt with flushed, he's actively trying to impress her using "self-esteems" explicitly gained from "fake" things he's acknowledging as fake - that is, refusing to be genuine and vulnerable with her, because he doesn't believe anyone would like him the way he actually is.

AT: bUT WHAT ABOUT, AT: mY ATTRACTIVE BRAVADO, AT: aND IGNORING MY INSTINCTUAL COWARDICE HARD ENOUGH TO SAY THAT i LIKE YOU, AT: iSN'T THAT, AT: sUPPOSED TO BE VERY ATTRACTIVE, aND ENCOURAGE THE MAJOR HAVING OF FLUSHED FEELINGS IN OTHERS, AT: i GUESS WHAT i MEAN IS, wHAT ABOUT ALL MY CONFIDENCE, AT: wHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT THAT,

His "dating" Vriska in the dream bubbles is also dubious and one-sided at best, as John calls him out for faking it and Tavros isn't willing to bring up wanting the Ring of Life because he was planning to propose to Vriska. Thus, once more, he's attempting to use something disingenuous (in this case, a human proposal) to win another person's affection, which he believes would be a symbol of actualizing his "self-esteem".

We also literally see him do the "deciding someone wasn't actually important to you after all, so it hurts less when you cut them off before they can hurt you emotionally by noticing your flaws" thing with Nepeta - he actually quite likes Nepeta, and would certainly have enjoyed having her play the game with him, but he assures her that it's not a big deal basically immediately, and insists he'll just find someone else:

AC: :33 < tavros im sorry i cant be on your team :(( AC: :33 < im not allowed AT: oH, AT: tHAT'S OKAY, AT: tHEN i GUESS HE SAID NO, tHEN, ... AC: :33 < hmm purrhaps AC: :33 < but i still f33l bad AT: i'LL FIND ANOTHER PLAYER, iT'S NOT A BIG DEAL, AT: gOOD LUCK, bEING, AT: oN THE BLUE TEAM, AC: :33 < ok thanks :((

But, perhaps most strikingly, is the way he leaves his good friend Gamzee on read after Gamzee suggests... gasp... intimacy.

TC: WhEn wE Up aNd sTaRt tO KiCk aT ThIs rEd TeAm NoIsE, TC: YoU ShOuLd mAkE YoUr wAy tO GeT YoUr hAnG On aT My hIvE. AT: oH, yES, tOTALLY, TC: We cOuLd sPlIt a tIn oF ThE PiMpEsT SnEeZe i gOt oN HaNd, BaKeD Up aLl sPeCiAl fOr yOu. TC: AnD ThEn mAyBe mAkE OuT A LiTtLe. AT: uH, TC: ;o) AT: , AT: ,,

It freaks him out, and he's never seen hanging with Gamzee again. And this is a huge shame, because not only is Tavros one of the only people who is nice to Gamzee and appreciates his religious beliefs, but Gamzee is one of the only people who hears out Tavros's genuine insecurities and desires without making fun of him:

AT: tHE ONLY THING MORE FLY THAN THE RHYMES, AT: i'M SAYING TO EXPRESS ALL MY MALICES, AT: iS THE ABILITY HE HAD i WISH WAS MINE, AT: iNSTEAD OF i GUESS, THIS EXCESSIVE PARALYSIS, TC: (lOoK OuT FoR ThE HoOk bRo!!!) TC: GeT OfFa tHoSe wHeElS, gEt oFfA ThOsE WhEeLs. TC: If mIrAcLeS ArEn't fAkE He'lL GeT OfFa tHoSe wHeElS! AT: bUT HIGH, iN THIS CASE, hAS DOUBLE THE MEANING, AT: iT MEANS HE CAN FLY, pLUS DOES HIGH SELF ESTEEMING, AT: tHAT'S TWO THINGS HE HAS, tHAT i'D RATHER WERE MINE, AT: hIS TWO FLAPPY WINGS, aND hIS BIG HEALTHY SPINE, AT: oOPS, AT: tHAT'S THREE THINGS,,, TC: GeT OfFa tHoSe wHeElS, gEt oFfA ThOsE WhEeLs. TC: If mIrAcLeS ArEn't fAkE He'lL GeT OfFa tHoSe wHeElS!

(Compare:)

PAT: i'M SORT OF, lYING ON vRISKA'S FLOOR RIGHT NOW, PAT: lIKE, iN HER BLOCK, PAT: lYING DOWN, PAT: uHH, yOU KNOW, bECAUSE i CAN'T WALK, CCG: OH NO SHIT REALLY??? CCG: YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS, WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN.

He isn't able to do a REAL self-confidence at least until he gives Vriska the bird and flies away, for the first time asserting that he thinks she's an asshole and doesn't actually want or need her validation or approval. After that, he's able to convince a ghost army to follow him using friendship and asking and niceness. Breath powers! Also Page powers! Also actual self-esteems! Although I don't personally hold anything after Game Over as anything more than soft canon, I think we can still see a fairly straightforward character arc reach a natural conclusion there.

But as to why I specifically think him and Gamzee are destined for pale, despite what appears to be flushed leanings from Gamzee's end, and despite the fact that I usually believe what the comic tells me, is because what brief few interactions we see between them are very much pale in nature, and it would be kind of narratively bizarre if Gamzee were set up to have a failed moirallegiance - the quadrant described as "soul mates" - without managing to find his real soul mate after. And who's it going to be? Equius? Or the guy that Gamzee literally says he feels "at chill with" talking to?

Gamzee kissing Tavros's corpse is often used as evidence for his desire for flushed, but I disagree - however Gamzee feels about Tavros romantically, kissing a dead player is how you revive them, so it reads to me - especially given how sad Gamzee is about Tavros dying - more like a desperate act to bring him back. Lest we forget, Terezi also gives it a try, and Karkat kisses Kanaya for the same reason - the reality that their extra lives are gone hasn't sunk in yet for these 13 year old kids, so they must try revival even if they know it won't work.

Moreover, Gamzee indirectly describes Tavros as his "best friend," after having called Karkat that through most of the game, and having an implied pale crush on Karkat during that time.

TC: YOU MOTHER FUCKING KNOW, BROTHER. TC: its the fuckin puppet. TC: THE ONE THAT'S ALL GOT TO BE MY BEST FUCKING FRIEND I GOT NOW. TC: now that my other buddy managed to be having his head chopped off. :oC

Moreover moreover, what Karkat cites as being the cause of their moirallegiance's failure is Gamzee's religious beliefs:

KARKAT: HE STARTED GETTING SO UNBELIEVABLY SELF SATISFIED AND PIOUS, LIKE WAY MORE THAN HE EVER WAS BEFORE. KARKAT: LIKE HE'S JUST SO COMPLETELY CONVINCED HE'S FOUND HIS CALLING, THAT THIS SESSION IS THE GATEWAY TO THE PROMISED LAND WHERE HE'LL FULFILL HIS DESTINY. KARKAT: HE'S SO CAUGHT UP IN HIS IDIOTIC SCHEMES HE COULDN'T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT ME ANYMORE.

Which are explicitly what Tavros invites Gamzee to speak on, and appreciates:

AT: yEAHHH, yOU CAN TALK ABOUT THE CLOWN THINGS, wHICH, AT: i DON'T REALLY UNDERSTAND EVER, bUT THAT'S OKAY, AT: bECAUSE IT'S KIND OF FUNNY, AT: wHEREAS, i'LL ADDRESS SOME TOPICS PERTAINING TO MY INTERESTS, AT: aND i GUESS, pERSONAL MOTIFS, TC: YeAh! FuCk YeAh, ThAt Be HoW sHiT's AlL uSuAlLy Up AnD fUcKiN lOcKeD bRo. ... AT: dO YOU HAVE TIME FOR, mY MIRACLES, rELIGIOUS FRIEND, }:) TC: Do yOu gEt yOuR NoTiCe oN Of tHe mIrAcLeS AT: sO MANY, uH, gRATUITOUS EXPLETIVE, mIRACLES, tHE MAGIC MOTHER, aLSO eXPLETIVE, mIRACLES, TC: FuCk yEs, HeReS WhErE ThE SlAm tUrNs tO NoThIn bUt hOnKs... TC: HoNk hOnK HoNk hOnK HoNk hOnK HoNk TC: HoNk hOnK HoNk hOnK HoNk hOnK HoNk AT: HONK, TC: FuUuUuUuUuUuUuUuUuCk! AT: iT'S LESS APPROPRIATE FOR ME TO DO THE HONKS, tHAN YOU, bUT THAT WAS STILL GREAT, TC: YeAh, BrO. yEaH!!! AT: tHE SLAMS WERE TRULY PRIME, aND, AT: yOUR RELIGIOUS VIEWS, tHOUGH i DON'T SHARE THEM, aRE, AT: rEASONABLY INSPIRATIONAL, AT: i THINK i'M IN THE PROCESS OF RELEASING AT LEAST ONE TEAR,

But also in Tavros's single conversation with Gamzee, we see Tavros stand up to a highblood:

TC: :o) HoNkHoNkHoNkHoNkHoNk AT: }:o), hEH, TC: hAhAh FuUuUuCk, YoU sToLe My FuCkIn NoSe BrO! TC: WhAt GoT yOu EvEn Up ThE gUmPtIoN tO aLl FuCkIn Do ThE sHiT lIkE tHaT? AT: eRR, i DON'T KNOW, iT'S JUST, AT: kIND OF THE OBVIOUS THING TO DO, AT: sTICK THE CIRCLE IN FRONT OF THE DOTS, aND, bEHIND THE BENDY ONE, AT: pLUS, oH YEAH, mY HORNS, TC: hAhAhAhA. AT: mAYBE WE CAN SLAM ABOUT IT, ... TC: fUuUuCk, So FuCkIn FrEsH. TC: YoU nEeD tO bE sLaPpEd FuCkIn SiLlY wItH a MoUtH lIkE tHaT! hAhA. AT: aND, iF YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH IT, AT: tHEN i SUGGEST YOU GO AND RAP IT DUDE,

He feels safe with Gamzee, enough to take a bit of an attitude with him, enough to open up about his insecurities about his disability and how much he wishes he was like Pupa Pan, and Gamzee explicitly states he feels calm when he talks to Tavros, which is the stated function of a moirallegiance.

TC: Me tOo, BrO, yOu mOtHeR FuCkIn kNoW ThErE Be sOmE Of mY EyE's RoYaL JeLlY To gO WiTh yOuR EmOtIoNaL pEaNuT BuTtEr. AT: wHOA, aHA, hA, TC: ThIs iS BeAuTiFuL, dUdE, i fEeL So aT ChIlL WiTh yOu. AT: yEAH, fRIENDLINESS WITH YOU IS, pRETTY MUCH ALWAYS NICE, aND FUN TO HAVE,

And the thing is, trolls are constantly getting into moirallegiances when they want to be flushed (Eridan, Kanaya), having palecrushes when they want to be friends (Gamzee), and winding up flushed with their moirail (pale solfef is forshadowed in the same breath as pale erikar, and they don't seem to confirm a matespritship until after Sollux's actual flushed crush, Aradia, explodes). Especially for Gamzee, who was neglected by his lusus and struggles with social interaction to the point where he feels like he has to hide his real self (casteist beliefs, constant talk of religion and murder, which, by the way, come out when he talks to Tavros), it'd be easy for him to mistake the "instinctive attraction" of moirallegiance for the passions of matespritship.

These thoughts are all pretty disorganized - I'm really sorry, it's super late/early for me and I'm exhausted for other reasons - but I hope that that . was what you wanted? hahah

[questionableratatouille00]

𝓜𝓸𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓞𝓷 8

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: When the anniversary of Natasha’s passing comes around, Y/n feels another wave of grief coming to knock her down. But with the support of her friends, and a special visit to Natasha’s grave, she knows that she can keep going. And she knows that Nat would be happy for her.

Warnings (Entire Series): This series deals with mature topics, including, but not limited to: death, mental health issues, physical, emotional, and sexual abuse, grief, trauma, general unwellness, illness (both mental and physical), and a most likely inaccurate portrayal of group therapy (though it’s much better than whatever was going on in TFATWS.) Please mind the warnings below.

Warnings: cursing, dead romantic partners, death, wind symbolism, graves and cemeteries, way too many references, depression and depression themes, therapy, bad hygiene, and mental health issues. As always, let me know if more needs to be tagged.

🌻Series Masterlist 🌻

𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧

It had been a while since that...incident. The leaves had changed colors and fallen off the trees, which all turned dark. Snow had began to dust the ground, and the wind had begun to bring shivers to everyone outside.

And with the cold weather came a dreaded anniversary. One you knew was coming, but that hadn’t made it better.

Everyone else could see it too. The way your mood seemed to dampen, the way your smiles began to not reach your eyes, the way you seemed more and more tired each time they saw you.

Snow was on the ground now, but some things stayed the same.

Group therapy was still going on, and it gave you a reason to get out of your house.

“Now, I’d like to talk about support, and why it’s so important to have a support system.” Coulson introduced the topic. “Does everybody know what a support system is?” As the group nodded along, he grinned.

“Great. Why don’t we go around in a circle and share one reason why having a support system is important?” He invited the conversation.

Every session had the same structure. You walk in, everyone shares how they’ve been that week and what they’ve done or whatever, then the topic is introduced and discussed, then you play some kind of game, and then everybody chats a little bit before leaving. You found comfort in the routine.

Clint went first. “It’s important because if you have one, you’ve got people to rely on and help you out with stuff.”

Tony nodded, before beginning to speak. “And people who can tell when you’re having a breakdown.”

Then it was your turn. “When..when you feel like nothing is getting better and nothing is going to get better, having..having people around to talk to, or to..relate with, even….it helps.” You murmured.

“Yeah. And when you’re spiraling, you’ve got friends and family who can pull you out of it.” Wanda nodded along. You gave her a small smile.

“See ya, kid.” You waved to Peter on your way out. He waved back, beaming.

“Bye, Ms. Y/n!” It had taken so long to convince him to not call you Ms. L/n, so you accepted the name.

“Bye, Maria.” You shot a smile at the receptionist.

“Have a good day, Y/n.” She smiled warmly.

“You too!” You called as you walked out the door. You let out a breath as the cold wind picked up outside. You walked down the bumpy sidewalk towards your car.

“Y/n!” Wanda called for you, a smile on her face.

When you turned to look at her, her smile dropped.

“Oh, hey, Wands.” You used the nickname.

“Are you okay? You seemed more..down, than usual.” She noted.

“Yeah, just..tired. Didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.” You explained. It wasn’t exactly a lie. You truly hadn’t slept very well. Stupid nightmares.

“Oh. Okay. Uh..do you wanna FaceTime later or something?” She asked. It had become normal for the two of you to FaceTime every so often.

“Sure,” you answered, as you gave her a nod before you began to walk away.

The worst part is when you start losing your sense of joy.

Your favorite meal, which you’d cooked for dinner the night after therapy, didn’t taste as good. And it wasn’t an error on your part—you’d cooked it perfectly, just like you normally would. But when you ate it, it…just didn’t hit.

It was hard to not think your brain was broken. Well, in a way, it kinda was now, but apparently that’s not a good word to use.

You began to fall back into old routines.

You get up. You get ready. You go to work. You drive home. You turn on the TV. And then, you just sit. 

Sometimes you call Wanda.

You turned down the group’s offer to go to lunch that week. And the week after that.

Normally, the group would go to lunch together once a week. You were all really becoming friends. Sometimes it would be right after therapy, other times it would just be a different day of the week.

You were interrupted in your moping by the sound of your phone buzzing. It was Wanda.

Hey! Made some tea and I have some extra water. Feel like stopping by? The text read.

Sorry, I’m busy today. Maybe some other time, though! You typed back.

No worries. I thought you stopped working weekends though?

“Shit.” You murmured as she caught you in your lie.

You sighed, before pressing the FaceTime button. “Hey.” You greeted.

“Hi.” She smiled, her mug of tea visible. You were propped up on something on her kitchen table, so you could see her from the chest up. Her hair was up in a bun.

“I..I’m not busy.” You confessed.

“Yeah, I know.” She admitted.

“It—I just—“ you sighed. “Today’s the uh, the anniversary, so..”

“Oh, Y/n, I’m sorry.” She frowned. “Her grave’s at Dreykov Cemetery, right?”

“Uh…yeah?”

“Can you be there in two hours?”

“The hell—sure I guess?” You were really fucking confused. Was this a normal things for friends to do for each other?

Regardless, you got up off your ass and took a shower. You changed into some clean clothes and brushed your teeth, something you’d been neglecting as of late (much to your shame and embarrassment.)

You grabbed your keys and walked out of your apartment, down the stairs, and to your car. You drove out to Groot&Rocket, a local floristry business. You picked out a nice bouquet of flowers suited for winter, paid for it, and began to drive down to the cemetery.

You found the whole group waiting at the entrance. They all gave you warm smiles, with Wanda rushing up and giving you a tight hug. You wrapped your arms around her, making sure to not mess up the bouquet.

“Oh, I’m sorry Y/n.” She murmured in your ear.

You just rubbed her back in response. You both pulled away after a moment and walked towards the rest of the group.

“Hey, you guys.” You breathed as you stood before them.

“Hey.” Steve replied, a gentle smile on his face. Bucky gave you a tiny wave. Tony gave a nod in greeting, and Thor opened his arms for a big hug as he walked towards you. You passed the bouquet to Wanda, knowing that there was no escaping this.

He squeezed you tight in a massive bear hug, shaking you from side to side ever so slightly.

You laughed a little, and he grinned, knowing he’d done his job right.

“You guys really didn’t have to come out here, you know.” You said awkwardly.

“Relax,” Bucky hummed, clapping a hand on your shoulder, “you’d do it for us. You did it for me.”

Sam nodded in agreement. “It’s the least we could do.” You noticed they each had something in their hands. Flowers, small trinkets, normal stuff.

In Wanda’s were a small bouquet of flowers, not a sunflower in sight. She also had the yellow Care Bear in her left hand.

“Oh, uh, right this way.” You said, awkwardly leading the group through the graveyard.

Natasha was buried beneath a tall and beautiful tree. You looked up at it, its leaves still looking okay, even in the cold winter. You kneeled next to her grave, dusting away the snow gently. You adjusted some things already left at her grave, either from friends or family, before setting down the flowers. Then you stood up and took a few steps back.

Everyone took turns leaving stuff. First Bruce. Then Tony. Then Thor. Steve. Sam. Clint. Bucky. And then Wanda.

It’s gotta be wrong of me, your thoughts echoed around in your head. Bringing the girl I kind-of-maybe-sort-of have a crush on to the grave of my dead former girlfriend.

Just then the wind swirled through, and you watched as Wanda’s hair danced in the wind. She was beautiful.

It felt like Nat was telling you that you were being a stupid idiot. And that she was happy.

That it was okay. Okay to let her go.

No, a part of you wailed. Just like you had in her hospital room. Just like you had when you got home that night. Just like you had when Yelena showed back up.

It’s okay, the wind seemed to sing as it blew through again. Let me go.

And so you let her go.

A/n: hi everybody!! I hope you all had the best and most wonderful holidays. I would love love love to talk about this series, so don’t be afraid to send in an ask!

[casual-violinist-fangirl]

Just Call Me And I'll Be There (3,090 Words)

Injured and on the run, Omega is forced to run to the first person she thinks of... but will that person be wiling to help her out after all of these years?

Set after the epilogue of the Bad Batch, exploring Omega's life in the rebellion! This will be a two-chapter fic and I'll make sure to tag the second chapter when it is completed!

As always, the link for my AO3 page is here and the link to my Tumblr masterlist is here.

I hope you enjoy!

--------

Omega was typically good at getting out of uncomfortable situations; the prospect of being captured was no stranger to her, so when the Empire had eventually caught up with her squad she had hardly been surprised. Luckily, none of them could trace her back to Hemlock’s experiments on Tantiss (thanks, Nala Se) so those holding her hostage just assumed that she was some washed up orphan that had joined the rebellion on a whim…

… if only they knew the truth.

Needless to say, her escape had been pretty spectacular. Echo would have been proud if he could have been there to see the way the cruiser exploded as she flew away in a modified TIE fighter. He was still working on liberating clones, even though Rex, Wolffe and Gregor had retired years earlier. Age hadn’t stopped the ex-ARC trooper from fighting for the rights of clones, and luckily Senator Chuchi was still standing strong and by his side. 

If Omega had to be critical, the only downside of her escape this time was the nasty burn on the side of her leg from where she’d dodged some explosive flames on her way out, combined with the blaster wound on her shoulder; luckily she had been wearing a disguise at the time of her capture, not her lucky jacket.

Still high on adrenaline and fear, the young woman had managed to punch in hyperspace coordinates and class her way to the nearest neutral planet she could think of: Ord Mantell.

She hadn’t exactly been planning on going there, but it popped up on the navi-computer as being the closest by a long shot… Pabu was way too far for her to go now. 

Landing on the planet hadn’t been an issue, although some people had stopped and stared at her as she clambered out of the TIE fighter, ragged and bleeding. Where was she going to go now? Kriff, she hadn’t thought this far. Hobbling out of the spaceport, she surveyed her surroundings as she tried to think of a plan of action. As long as she put space between herself and the ship she guessed it didn’t really matter where she went. If this place had access to long-range comms and  med-kit that would be even better…

A nasty thought filled her head and she swore quietly to herself… there was one place she could think of going to, not that it filled her with much joy. Realising that she didn’t have much choice and that if she wanted to go under the Empire’s radar, she’d need to rely on a friend. 

If she could call this person a friend anymore… time would tell.

——

The last twenty(ish) years had not been particularly kind to Cid. After she had lost communication with the Bad Batch, she had been riddled with guilt. That guilt had only gotten worse when she’d realised that the creepy scientist had been after Tiny and not her brothers. She had tried her hardest to put all of that behind her, until Phee had come knocking on her door.

The pirate had yelled abuse at her, calling her a coward and declaring that she had no right destroying the family of clones in the way that she did. Cid had made some below-the-belt comments about Phee and Goggles, snapping about how she was only acting this way because of his death.

Needless to say, Phee hadn’t spoken to her since. Cid had lost one of the only people she could call a friend. 

Then, six months later, a dangerously skilled clone had rocked up on her doorstep, threatening to burn down her bar if she didn’t give him a way of finding Omega. So the kid had escaped? With the help of one of her brothers, she’d later found out. Not that Cid was surprised. She guessed it must’ve been Bandanna who’d rescued the girl; she was closer to being his daughter than his sister anyways.

Stuck in-between a rock and a hard place, Cid had said the only person she knew who might have contact with the Batch was Phee. Luckily for her, the clone had left, but not before firing a blaster bolt through her shoulder in an attempt to kill her.

After that, Cid heard nothing else about her ex-mercenaries, and she decided that was the way she liked it. She could run her bar undisturbed by clones and their issues. No whiny kids, no grumpy fathers, no loud, boomy brothers. No know-it-all clones who always interrupted her when she was talking… It was kinda quiet though.

That was until one day, nearly twenty years later, she was closing down the bar after a long night. The door beeped, a sign that the security code had been tapped into the keypad outside, and hissed open; it creaked a little, a sign that it needed oiling… or possibly outright replacing.

Cid scowled. She was the only person who knew the code to that door, so either someone had overridden it or it was….

… surely not. She hadn’t heard from any of them in years. If they were even still alive, why would they want to see her? She had betrayed them, sold them out to the Empire like they had been nothing to her. They hadn’t meant anything to her… or at least she hadn’t thought so until Tech had died. The day they’d rushed into her bar, injured and broken, her heart had hurt for them. It had hurt even more so when he’d seen the distraught look on Hunter’s face as he stooped over Omega’s injured form. 

Shaking herself out of her thoughts and back into the present, Cid grasped the blaster that she had clipped to the bottom of the bar. The woman clicked it out of stun mode; whoever was coming into her bar, they weren’t expected and they were unlikely to be friendly. 

She could hear laboured footsteps coming down the steps and exiting the shadows. There, stood in front of Cid with blood oozing out of her shoulder and smelling a little bit like burning, was a young woman.

“Long time no see, Cid,” the girl said with a small smile that instantly sent the Trandoshian back in time. 

“Tiny!”

Blaster dropped to the floor and forgotten about, Cid moved around the bar and towards Omega. Upon closer inspection, she noticed just how bad the blaster wound was, and realised that the smell of burning was coming from the scorched fabric on her trousers. This kid had been through the wars.

“What happened to you, someone try to barbecue ya?” she asked as she glanced down at the burn on the girl’s leg. That was gonna need some serious bacta, and even then it might leave a mean scar. Omega rolled her eyes as she moved to a bar stool, sitting on it heavily. 

“Got captured by Imperials,” she started to explain through gritted teeth. “Had to blow up their ship when I escaped.” 

Cid’s face must have held a bewildered look because Omega snorted humourlessly. “You haven’t changed much,” she muttered as she rested her head against the cool bar surface. She groaned as there was a pull in her shoulder but sighed contentedly as the cool metal met a bruise on her temple. Had she been hit around the head at one point? Who knew. 

Cid stared at the young clone in front of her, still not quite believing her eyes. 

“Where are your posse?” she asked, moving back to the other side of the bar. She reached back and pulled down two glasses and a bottle of liquor. The kid looked old enough to drink now… stuff it, even if she wasn’t, it would help ease the pain of her injuries. 

“That’s what I was coming to you about, actually,” Omega raised an eyebrow at the alcohol in her cup but didn’t even flinch as she knocked it back like a shot. Cid shrugged and poured her some more.

“I don’t know where your family are, kid, if that’s what you’re asking.” The Trandoshian’s voice seemed to be filled with sympathy that Omega didn’t know she possessed. She shook her head.

“I know where they are,” she replied. “I just need access to a long-range comm that I know will reach them undetected.” She looked at Cid pointedly. “… and a med-kit that’s well stocked,” she added, knowing that Echo used to put things into Cid’s med-kit that probably hadn’t been used since they were placed there. Out of date bacta was better than no bacta. “You owe me after what you put me and my family through.”

Cid sighed, knowing that the girl was right. She could hardly turn her away, not after she had done exactly that years prior. She had betrayed the child and her brothers more times than she cared to admit… it was time to make good.

She lead Omega through the bar, still carrying the bottle of alcohol and their glasses, and sat her down in the office. There she went about looking for the med-kit; Omega had been right. It hadn’t been updated since Echo had done it fifteen years ago. She sighed as she clicked open the box and began searching through it for what she needed. 

“Comm’s all set up,” the quiet voice of Cid broke the clone out of her concentration. “I’ve rigged it so no one will trace your call.”

Omega nodded in thanks and watched as the Trandoshian left the office before turning her attention to the machine. She tapped in the code for her family’s comm device on Pabu before sitting back and hoping that someone would be on the other end to pick up…

The comm hadn’t even rang three times before Hunter’s scowling face appeared. 

“Cid,” he started. “I don’t know why you’re trying to call us after all these years but…” his voice trailed off and cracked when he noticed who was on the end of the line.

“Omega!” he gasped, and the woman in question smiled a watery smile. 

“Hey, buir,” she croaked as she tried to hold back to onslaught of emotion she was experiencing upon seeing her father for the first time since before her capture. 

Of course Hunter had questions. “Why are you at Cid’s?” was the first, though it was swiftly followed by “are you hurt?” and “do you need me to come and get you?”

Omega had given him the shortened version of what had happened leading up to and following on from her capture. Her buir’s eyes widened when she said that she had been hurt and gave him the brief rundown of her injuries.

Before too long, Hunter was saying goodbye, promising to be there soon to pick her up. He hung up the call, leaving Omega alone once more; all of a sudden the wave of emotion was too much for her and she burst into loud, heartbreaking sobs. 

Cid, on hearing her crying, opened the door to the office and peeped in. 

“You okay, Tiny?” she asked, concern lacing her usually blunt voice. Omega nodded, but hissed in pain as she jolted her shoulder once more. The Trandoshian guessed that the call had been successful considering how long it had gone on for, and that one of Tiny’s brothers would be here soon. “Let’s get you patched up,” she carried on, walking further into the room and prying the med-kit out of the girl’s hands.

She worked in silence, carefully peeling away what fabric she could from Omega’s burn as the young clone breathed through the pain. She then sprayed a bacta-laced freezing spray over the wound; Tiny’s shoulders eased up as she sighed a little with relief. 

Then came the shoulder. All Cid could do was place out of date bacta over it and dress it neatly, hoping that it would stop bleeding soon.

“Sorry there isn’t more I can do, kid,” she muttered in apology as she stood away to admire her handiwork. Omega nodded, though her eyes were unfocussed and looked heavy. Cid swore quietly and waved a hand in front of the girl’s face.

“Hey, Tiny,” she spoke a little louder, snapping Omega out of her slump. “I reckon you’re concussed. No nap time for you, at least not until one of your brothers turns up.” The woman in question nodded in response, not being able to bring herself to speak. She was so tired, surely a small nap wouldn’t hurt…

… “TINY!” Omega jumped out of her skin, hissing at the movement in her shoulder. “Come on, kid,” Cid grumbled. “You gotta stay alive until Dark and Broody gets here. I’m guessing he’s the one who’s on his way?”

Omega nodded, a small smile on her face at the mention of her buir. Cid rolled her eyes; this kid had always been soft.

“Has he finally decided he’s your dad yet?” she asked sarcastically. “Or is he still pretending that his Jango Fett gene didn’t activate?”

She turned to face the wounded clone, only to see a frown on her face. 

“After my second escape from Hemlock…” Omega started slowly. “Hunter said that we were free to be whoever we wanted.” She smiled fondly at the memory. It hadn’t been long after that she’d started calling him buir. She had been so nervous, petrified of being rejected, but she needn’t have been. Hunter had practically burst into tears upon her asking permission to call him dad.

“He chose to be a father,” she finished with a fond smile on her face. Cid nodded, somewhat impressed with the clone sergeant. When she had known him, he had seemed so emotionally stunted that she thought he’d never admit to Omega how he felt about her, but here the pair were. Father and daughter… Cid realised she should have guessed this from the red bandanna the kid wore around her head. Yeah, there was no confusion as to whose kid she was.

“I’m glad he came to his senses,” she commented, making Omega snort a little with laughter. 

“You sound like Crosshair,” she replied with a laugh. “He’s the one who said I should talk to Hunter.”

Cid vaguely remembered the Batch talking about a Crosshair and she had assumed that he was one of their brothers, but had never met the man. 

——

Hunter barrelled through the door of the bar four fours later looking frazzled and… older than Cid remembered. Of course, she didn’t look the same, but she hadn’t been expecting the small streaks of silver running through Dark and Broody’s hair, or the way his battle-ready body had filled out… that probably came with being able to afford food, she thought to herself as she stood up to greet him. 

Omega was getting tired again, her eyes drooping as she complained about the pain in her leg beginning to come back; Cid had kept her busy with a caffeinated drink and multiple games of Djerik. Of course the girl had won every single came, even concussed; as they played she wittered on about the time she had won nearly 50,000 credits whilst on the run with Crosshair.

“Omega!” Hunter ran to the young clone, not even looking at Cid. He crouched in front of her, ignoring the twinge in his knees. Checking over her injuries, he frowned as he noticed the gunshot wound, treated but still painful. It turned out that out of date bacta wasn’t as effective as Omega had hoped. 

“Hey, buir,” she said in a voice that was suddenly choked with emotion again. “Everything hurts.”

Hunter breathed out a short laugh, though the concern on his face was still evident. “I’m not surprised, ad’ika,” he replied, cupping her cheek. “It’s okay though, I’ll get you home.”

Cid raised both eyebrows at the mention of ‘home.’ She had just assumed that the boys would still be wondering the galaxy. She was surprised that they had found somewhere safe enough to settle down.

She was broken from her thoughts by Hunter easing his kid to her feet and slinging her good arm over his shoulder. Omega hissed as the pair took an unsteady step forward, Bandanna whispering soothing words to her as a couple of tears leaked down her cheeks. The pain really had come back with a vengeance, huh. 

As the pair reached the door of the bar, Hunter still having not knowledge Cid’s existence, Omega put her hand out to stop them both. She shuffled around, nodding at the Trandoshian.

“Thanks, Cid,” she said and for what it was worth, she sounded genuinely grateful. Cid nodded in return at them both. 

“See you around, Tiny,” she replied. “You too, Bandanna. I’m glad you got to live your lives in peace. You deserved it.”

For the first time, Hunter looked at her. Cid could see the bitterness in his eyes, not that she could blame him. As he observed her, his eyes softened a little. She knew he was grateful that she’d looked after his little girl. After everything she had put their family through, that was as much as she could ask for. The pair nodded at each other before Hunter re-adjusted his grasp on Omega. The pair shuffled out of the bar, slowly making their way back to their ship.

——

“You were smart to go back to somewhere you know,” Hunter commented as he settled Omega in the co-pilot’s chair of his ship. His first move had been to give her a dose of pain medication; she had no idea when she’d hit her head, but it was safe to say that she was coherent that Hunter wasn’t worried about her falling asleep. As the pain medication kicked in she began to doze off. Her buir took the opportunity to re-dress her arm with bacta that would actually do its job, and put more spray on her burn before dressing that too.

“You trained me well…” Omega slurred slightly, her eyes drooping. “Missed you, buir,” she added in a pitifully small voice as he finished up re-dressing her injuries. Hunter stood back to his full height and sighed at the sight of his grown-up daughter falling asleep in front of him. He stooped down and pressed a gentle kiss against her temple.

“Missed you too, ‘Mega,” he whispered, not wanting to make her jump. He sat down in the pilot’s chair before tapping in the coordinates for Pabu. Upon entering hyperspace he finally breathed a sigh of relief; they were going home.

[mc-lukanette]

Luka opened the side door to Marinette's house and entered with a skip in his step. Any day seeing Marinette was a great one, but they were going out for a date today. They hadn't decided on a particular place - only the time - but that was part of the fun in their minds.

However, he'd only taken a few steps before he heard footsteps charging at him, barely turning in time to see Marinette's dad approaching and two hands coming down on his shoulders.

"Luka," he spoke. The seriousness in his voice contrasted sharply with the words that followed. "Marinette is baking too many cakes!"

Luka blinked. Leaning his body as best as he could to see past the oversized man and into the bakery, he couldn't spot Marinette anywhere. He was confused, but glad, feeling that it would've shone a negative light on his abilities as her boyfriend to not be able to instantly spot her from out of the corner of his eye when he'd come in.

Looking up at Tom for answers, he asked, "Is she baking upstairs?"

Tom didn't respond, brows furrowed as he continued to stare, possibly waiting for something. Marinette's mother looked over her shoulder at them, putting Luka out of his befuddlement by explaining, "He means projects. Marinette has been working all day on her projects."

Ah, it was a metaphor. He should've known.

Shifting his eyes from Sabine to Tom, Luka patted Tom's forearm and assured, "I'll take care of it, Mr. Dupain. Thanks for telling me."

Tom hung his head, though it was hard to tell whether it was in relief that Marinette was getting help or defeat that he had to rely on someone else to go talk to her. "You're a good boy."

Luka pulled back, Tom returning to the bakery while Luka himself went up the stairs. Hearing that Marinette was overworking herself wasn't a surprise to him, especially since it was something he firmly considered themselves to be "still working on." It was a system they'd had of trying to help each other: she'd inform him of new things she'd committed to working on so he could catch on before she'd taken too many, whereas he would be a little selfish and express things he'd like to do that she'd yet to bring up in their relationship. While he was normally insistent on going at her pace, she insisted on letting him take her out of her comfort zone whenever he could. "One of the important things in a relationship is compromise!" she'd explained.

He chuckled at the memory.

Entering the living room, he headed up the stairs and knocked on the trapdoor to Marinette's room. "Marinette?"

There was no answer. He waited a generous amount of time, then knocked slightly louder in case she hadn't heard him. When that failed as well, he got worried and invited himself inside.

His eyes took in Marinette first and widened immediately. She was lying on the floor, having seemingly fallen from her computer chair at some point in time. Surrounding her were all sorts of jewelry, tools, and other various objects, but Luka's priority went only to her.

He rushed over, supporting her as best as he could as he tried to sit her up. Letting her lean against him, he called out, "Marinette? Hey, come back to me..."

He used his free hand to cup her cheek, which finally seemed to do something to her. She whined, her body turning towards him and weakly gripping the fabric of his clothes. He thought she might've fallen back asleep when she relaxed, but eventually, she started to open her eyes.

"...Luka?" she mumbled groggily.

He didn't wait to ask, "Are you okay?"

"Mm...mm?" She pulled back, squinting at him and then the rest of their surroundings. Her mental gears turned as she took in the room, then his presence, and finally the fact that both of them were on the floor. Realization overtook her face a few seconds later, a gasp escaping her as she shot up to her feet.

"T-the time! I—nggh." She staggered from the feeling of standing up too quickly.

Luka stood as well, one hand on her back and the other going to her side furthest from him. Once he was certain that she wouldn't fall, he scolded gently, "You promised to tell me when you accepted new projects."

"T...they're not—" She yawned, shutting one of her eyes and rubbing at her eyelids with the heel of her hand. "They're not projects. They're, uh... gifts."

"Gifts," he echoed, hoping that his tone got across the hope for a more complete explanation.

She shrugged for lack of anything solid. "I-I wanted to get ahead on a couple of birthday presents, but then that got me thinking about gift ideas for everyone else. I was worried that the motivation would go away if I waited or just wrote it down, so I kept working. Then I thought about all the other gifts I could make, especially for you before our date, and—"

"I don't need your gifts," Luka stated flatly, his grip on her side tensing. The almost cold tone he'd given her registered as he saw the anxious look on her face, and he added with a sigh, "I'm sorry. I'm just worried about you. I don't want you to make me anything if it means tiring yourself out like this."

She frowned, leaning against him and nuzzling his shoulder. "I...I wanted to show everyone how much I appreciated them. That's all."

"You shouldn't have to." Keeping her side held with one hand, he used the other to move her bangs so he could place a soothing kiss on her forehead. "I already feel appreciated, and everyone else should too. They shouldn't need gifts to be your friends."

She made a noncommittal noise, not willing to abandon what she'd worked on but acknowledging his point. Another yawn escaped her, arms wrapping around him as she buried herself against him even more.

"I'm sorry too," she murmured weakly. "Our date was today. You came all the way here and now I'm tired."

"Don't worry about it." He opened his mouth to say something else, but stopped short when he got an idea. Bringing her close with both arms around her waist, he wondered aloud, "Am I still allowed something selfish?"

"Of course?" She was still upset about "ruining" things but didn't shut down verbally. "Why? What do you want?"

Showing by action, he shifted against her so he could lean down. Putting one arm at the back of her thighs, he let out a small grunt as he lifted her fully off the floor.

"L-Luka?" Marinette's voice came out fully awake at the sudden loss of anything underneath her. She clung to him, not unlike a koala as her legs went around his waist for extra support.

"You should sleep." He was already walking, unphased by the weight of an entire person on him as he ascended the stairs to her bed. "I won't leave either, so we can count it as our date."

"T-that doesn't sound like a date," she feebly refuted.

"We didn't make any plans," he reminded her, "so it could've been anything, even this."

She didn't have an argument to that, only an unconvincing whine.

The soft surface gave slightly under his and Marinette's weight as he got down on both knees. Marinette untangled herself from him so he had his hands free to pull back the blanket for her. Once she got comfortable and had made room for him, he laid down as well and covered the both of them. It was the first time he could ever say he was truly pushing his luck with his "selfish" requests, but the situation had called for it and he knew it was the only way to get her to accept.

When she snuggled against him for warmth that she definitely didn't need, he knew it was the right choice. He hadn't approved of what got them there, but couldn't complain about the results.

[jbuffyangel]

My Life. My Choice: Arrow 2x03 Review (Broken Dolls)

For the CW, “Broken Dolls” is actually really creepy. It’s this episode and Buffy the Vampire Slayer’s “The Gentleman” that give me an absolute wiggins.

Creepiness equals solid bad guy which equals FELICITY IN DANGER and PROTECTIVE OLIVER. This happens to be my sexual identity. Excellent. We also get a very overdue confession from Laurel Lance regarding Tommy’s death.

Source: Paige

Let’s dig in…

Oliver and the Lance Family

We’re kicking off the episode with Oliver surrounded by cops in Laurel’s office. It’s not one of his handy trick arrows that save him however, but the Lady in Black and her sonic thing. A whole bunch of windows explode and everyone collapses except Oliver and the Lady in Black. I don’t think the sonic thing is based in real physics.

With the sonic thing as a clue, Felicity discovers the Lady in Black put five would-be rapists in the hospital and seems to be strictly targeting misogynist criminals. What is not to love about this woman? She’s still not talking to Oliver yet, so he must rely on Roy to find her. He chases Sin to the clock tower where he is subsequently knocked unconscious.

When he wakes, the Lady in Black is standing over him asking, “Are you one of them?” Roy is just as confused as the rest of us. When he gets a call from Thea, the Lady in Black tells Sin to release Roy and she vanishes. Well, that answered absolutely nothing.

When Oliver returns home safely to the bunker, Diggle asks the question everyone is asking, “What were you doing at Laurel’s office in the first place, Oliver?” God bless our logical King. Where would we be without you? Oliver wanted to convince Laurel he was doing things a different way, but acknowledges he was wrong to think he could simply convince her. From now on the Arrow will be steering clear of the Assistant District Attorney. FINALLY.

That’s not to say some of the Lance family can be convinced the Arrow has changed his ways. Detective Lance reaches out to Felicity to contact the Arrow because a serial killer he once arrested is back on the streets. His name is Barton Mathis aka “The Dollmaker.” He suffocates his victims with a flexible polymer he pours down their throats and then dresses them up like dolls (hello to the creepy). He escaped from prison during the earthquake and is killing again.

It’s personal to Lance because Mathis killed eight girls before he caught him. The police department is stretched too thin to stop Mathis before he kills more woman, so Lance is also trying another way and teaming up with the Arrow. YASSS!!

Lance swings by Laurel’s office to check on her and get the name of Mathis’ defense counsel. Laurel is not thrilled her father is digging into this case on his own time because of the way it consumed him the last time.

Laurel: Whatever guilt you’re feeling, you’re just using it to justify a vendetta.

Lance: Well maybe I’m not the only one.

SHOTS FIRED!!!!

Lance stops by the Dollmaker’s defense attorney, but brings the Arrow as backup. Oliver is no longer killing, but that doesn’t mean he’s above torturing.

Lance: I thought you were done killing people!

The Arrow: He’ll live.

Lance: He’s going to report me to my lieutenant.

Source: Paige

Honestly, this is one of the Arrow’s best lines ever. I am cackling. The defense attorney coughs up a possible location – the Bisque Museum. The building reminds him of Germany which is where porcelain dolls was invented. Thanks for nothing, Germany.

Lance and the Arrow track the Dollmaker to the Bisque Museum, but instead of finding Mathis they find a doll, with the article of the Dollmaker’s arrest attached to it, and a phone. Mathis calls to taunt Lance as he kills another woman.

While on a stakeout with Lance, Oliver uses the hood to address his issues with Lance’s daughters once again. He makes a somewhat snide remark about Laurel no longer believing in him. Honestly, I wish Oliver wasn’t so hung up on this thing with Laurel, but apparently he needs someone to explain it to him like a four year old.

Lance: She suffered a loss. Grief’s got a way of shifting a person’s belief. But then you know all about that. You’ve lost people too right?

The Arrow: Why would you say that?

Lance: Why else would you be doing this? My youngest, she died.

The Arrow: I’m sorry.

Lance: Less than a month after it happened, I ended up catching the Dollmaker case. Threw myself into it.  I think on some level, with each girl, I was trying to save Sara. And just like with Sara, I couldn’t.

Not that I’m in favor of Oliver using his secret identity to worm his way back into the Lance family, but this was the first time he could really apologize to Quentin and Quentin receive it. He doesn’t blame the Arrow for Sara’s death. He blames Oliver. He’s just too angry with Oliver to hear anything he has to say – even if it’s just expressing remorse. But Lance can accept it from the man in the hood.

I find it actually shocking at this point that Oliver doesn’t understand why Laurel is lashing out at the Arrow. Oliver’s entire mission is fueled by the grief of his father’s death – and every subsequent loss he suffered those five years. He found countless criminals to target his rage and sorrow at. Laurel is just targeting one criminal. Oliver really needs this explained to him? Buy a mirror buddy. Yeesh. Self reflection is not his strong suit in Season 2 apparently.

Lance is arrested for obstruction after attempting to arrest the Dollmaker on his own (with Team Arrow’s help), but having an ADA for a daughter comes in handy and Laurel gets the charges dropped. This leads to a very interesting argument about the Arrow. Do I love that Lance officially renamed him the Arrow? Yes, I do. He came up with the Hood, so it seems only right.

Lance: A guy with a bow and arrow can’t save a guy who’s had a building fall on top of him. What’s going on with you is not about the Arrow.

Finally, someone said it to her face. Lance cannot understand why Laurel feels guilty about Tommy’s death (*COUGH*WE CAN*COUGH*), but targeting the Arrow is not going to bring Tommy back. Lance is genuinely worried about Laurel, but she blows her father off like she’s does to anyone trying to help her lately.

The Dollmaker ups the ante and kidnaps Lance AND LAUREL by the end of the episode. Now, I am not a huge fan of Laurel at the moment. I have my issues with her, but seeing her tied up with a tube shoved down her throat, as her father begs for her life, was sufficiently scary.

Lance: Laurel, sweetheart, close your eyes. I’m here. I’m here, honey.

UGH. A parent telling their child to close their eyes during traumatic events traumatizes me!! Anytime the Arrow would like to show up would be swell.

Source: @dinahlaurellancesource

The Arrow saves Laurel of course, but he’s not the only masked vigilante the Dollmaker must contend with – the Lady in Black has shown up too. Well, this fits her MO since the guy is a freaking SERIAL KILLER OF WOMEN. In fact, now that I mention it, where the hell have YOU been Lady in Black?

Oliver is prepared to bring the Dollmaker back to prison after he immobilizes him with a couple of arrows, but the Lady in Black is not having it and puts a baton through the Dollmaker’s chest. You know, I’m not worked up about this kill. It's fine with her resolution skills.

Laurel cannot understand why the Arrow saved her, particularly since she’s been hunting him like prey.

Laurel: He came… he came to save me.

But this time, Laurel is not talking about the Arrow. She’s talking about Tommy.

Laurel: Oliver, he told to me to stay out of the Glades and he told me to get out of CNRI and I didn’t. Tommy was only there because I was too stubborn. Too stubborn to get out when I had the chance. You were right. I was blaming the Arrow because… Oh, my God. It’s all my fault, Dad. It’s all my fault that Tommy died.

Laurel collapses into her father’s arms and he comforts her as Oliver secretly listens to her heart wrenching confession, hidden away in the dark alley.

It’s a callback to the scene in the pilot when Oliver watched Laurel and Tommy from a distance. It foreshadowed that Oliver and Laurel’s superhero journeys would be linked and the tether was Tommy. It was simply not in the way either of them imagined.

We are not at the end of Laurel Lance’s Season 2 story, but the very beginning. While her confession is necessary, it will not solve all her problems. Acknowledging guilt and grief is one thing. Being ready to deal with it is another.

Did you notice that Quentin didn’t immediately tell Laurel she was wrong? I am not so inhuman that I hold Laurel completely responsible for Tommy’s death. Malcolm Merlyn killed his son. Not Laurel.

But she bears some culpability. If she had listened to Oliver or Quentin – Tommy may have lived. It’s possible he could have died another way, but what we know for certain is he never would’ve been at CNRI. He was there because of Laurel and only Laurel. That is the guilt she must carry for the rest of her life. Laurel doesn’t hate the Arrow. She hates herself.

That is a feeling Oliver Queen knows all too well. He goes to Laurel’s apartment to check on her and Quentin. When Lance thanks the Arrow for saving his daughter (again) Oliver’s response is surprisingly detached.

The Arrow: She needed help.

Just like Quentin. Just like all the other citizens of Starling City the Arrow has sworn to protect. I am not delusional to pretend that Oliver Queen doesn’t care more for Laurel Lance than a stranger on the street, but there is a note of dispassion. Oliver is not there because he’s trying to change Laurel’s mind about him or chase after her forgiveness or use the hood to weasel his way back into her personal life. He’s there because she was a person who needed help. That is all. And that says a lot. It’s quite a shift from the Oliver Queen of Season 1.

Source: @dinahlaurellancesource

You cannot help someone who doesn't want to be helped. I think this pull back is necessary. Oliver cannot always save Laurel - she has to learn to save herself. This her life. These are her choices. The road Laurel is headed toward is one that neither Oliver nor the Arrow can follow her down.

Olicity

After the Dollmaker’s latest victim is discovered, Team Arrow wants a peek at the forensics, but the police have sent everything to a private lab. Felicity can’t hack it because their system is offline. Seems she did too good of a job last season. FIELD TRIP TIME!

Lance and the Arrow break into the lab, so Felicity can download the forensic records. There is a list of chemical ingredients of all the make-up found on the victims. Lance recognizes one of the chemicals - ethyl paraben sodium laureth sulfate, which is found in skim cream. Lance remembers one of the victims was wearing some kind of Mermaid skin cream, which had the same type of formula.  Felicity quickly tracks it down, which leaves Lance gobsmacked by her abilities and Oliver smiles with "That's my girl" pride.

The Dollmaker picks his victims by their skin and the skin cream is how he finds them. All the victims use Mermaiden Skin Cream, which is very expensive and only carried at limited boutiques. Felicity volunteers to buy the skin cream at the four boutiques available in Starling City. Both Oliver and Diggle balk at that prospect of Felicity in that much danger.

Source: @smoakgifs

The boys can’t help but be a little awed by her bravery. Slade makes a similar comment about Shado when Oliver worries about leaving her behind in the plane so she can examine the Japanese soldier bones.

Slade: Her life. Her choice.

Oliver is romantically involved with Shado at this point, so it’s extremely telling the writers are drawing a direct parallel from Shado to Felicity. It’s also clear at this point that Team OTA is paralleling Team Flashback. This was such a cool shot:

Lance: Just for the record, I’m not a huge fan of dangling helpless girls in front of psychopaths like meat.

Felicity volunteers because she’s an absolute bad ass, but she also knows without a shadow of doubt that Oliver (and Diggle) will never let anything happen to her.

Source: smoakandswan

Once again, Felicity’s belief is proven right when the Dollmaker snatches her. Even though Diggle, Lance and Oliver are close there is still enough time for the Dollmaker to drag Felicity into a back alley. CREEPED OUT ALERT!!! Every woman has this exact fear every time they leave their house. #pickthebear

Oliver lands an arrow in this sick son of a bitch (YASSS MY KING!!!) and the Dollmaker releases Felicity. Unfortunately, she stumbles and hits her head as she falls to the ground. Lance chases after the Dollmaker, but Oliver does not.

He immediately runs to Felicity’s side and gently checks her head and tells her not to move. He stays with her until Diggle arrives.

Source: Paige

SWOON. This is not the “Mission is all that matters” man we saw last season. Some things (or someone) matter more.

Unfortunately, the Dollmaker escapes like he’s freaking Houdini. He kidnaps Laurel as ultimate retribution for Quentin arresting him.   

Dollmaker: You know I could maim you, I could slice you up into a thousand pieces, but if your soul remains intact what have I wrought? Huh? Nothing.

The goal is to hurt Quentin by killing his daughter, which will cause the emotional pain the Dollmaker desires. However, "If your soul remains intact what have I wrought?” feels like a reference to Oliver. Not Quentin.

If Oliver loses himself to the darkness of the hood, if he allows all the pain and suffering to destroy his soul, then it doesn’t matter how many bad guys he arrests or how many times he saves the city. The villains will win.

It’s an argument Oliver has been having with Slade the last few episodes. Slade disapproves of Oliver’s relationship with Shado primarily because he’s madly in love with her. That said, Slade made no moves towards any type of romantic relationship with Shado, which means he could truly believe what he’s telling Oliver – attachments get you killed.

Oliver: You think caring about people is what gets you killed. I think it’s what keeps people alive.

Slade: I was wrong about you. You’re definitely an idiot.

The question then becomes how do we go from Oliver believing in love in the flashbacks to emotionally closed off in present day? I say closed off purposely – not shut down. Oliver still feels very deeply, but he keeps those emotions in check, hidden under a hood and layer of steel forged during those five years away. Something happens in the past that changes Oliver mind about caring for others.

What’s so wild about Oliver’s statement to Slade is that he’s right and Island Ollie is seldom right about anything. It is crucial for Oliver to maintain his connections to Diggle, Felicity and his family. However, present day Oliver is not entirely wrong. Love can save his soul, but it can also destroy it. If a villain discovers who Oliver loves then it makes that person a target.  How many people can Oliver lose and his soul remains intact? Maybe it’s not a question of how many, but WHO. Regardless, it’s a risk Oliver has been reticent to take. For now.

The flip is the people Oliver cares about get a vote. They get to decide for themselves how much risk they can accept. And because they believe in Oliver so much they are willing to risk their lives. At the end of the day, it's their choice. Oliver gave Felicity the respect she deserved in making this decision - this respect should apply to all aspects of her life.

Source: smoakandswan

Stray Thoughts

“He’ll be out for 36 min.” That is an oddly specific time for a tranquilizer dart.

Shado was pre-med. I feel like Slade & Oliver should have known this sooner than a year later. What else do they have to talk about?

Prosecutor is seeking the death penalty against Moira. Oliver keeps saying he’ll never let that happen, so I’m thinking he has a Mom jail break plan.

Sometimes you need a good old fashioned gratiutious shirtless scene.

Source: Paige

What secret is Moira willing to die to keep? It is something she believes will cost her relationship with her children. So that’s a big pile of yikes.

I am completely comfortable with the way Diggle & Oliver pass the time.

Slade’s hands and face are seriously burned from freighter bombing. Oliver is imprisoned on the boat. Who knows where Shado is. Flashbacks are straight up hell again!

LADY IN BLACK IS IN KAHOOTS WITH RA’S AL GHUL!!! Batman Jen squeals with delight.

Listen to the Watchover podcast reaction to 2x03!!!

If you’d like to support the blog, please buy me a cup of tea!

Disclaimer: Any gifs on the blog are not mine. If you would like a gif removed from my reviews, please message me!

[ghostchamber]

a taste of rejection

octavinelle boys shoot their shot and miss horrifically (PLEASE twst fandom don’t eat me alive) this little post is very short and kinda angsty so beware. i cant write that well yet ok 😳

characters included: azul, floyd, jade.

azul ashengrotto

of course. he should’ve calculated this. what was he thinking? why’d he delude himself into believing that you’d love him back? he’s such a fool.

self depreciating thoughts like that filled his mind as you continuously apologised for the cold, straightforward rejection. azul can’t help but bite his lip, arms crossed tightly like he was trying to shield himself from you. it doesn’t take long for him to excuse himself, getting up from the arrangement he specially and meticulously prepared for this occasion.

please don’t look at him like that. don’t comfort him, especially after breaking him down. he doesn’t want you to see him. he doesn’t want to see you. despite the storm building up inside him, he can’t seem to stop himself from telling you that there were no hard feelings. he can’t bring himself to support that statement the next day however, when he practically gives you the cold shoulder and stays far, far away. whether or not he allowed himself to cry the night before, you wouldn’t know.

jade leech

ah. a fault on his part. apologies, he should’ve thought more thoroughly before asking something like that of you. to be his lover. …what a silly thing to think, indeed.

jade masks his hurt perfectly and swiftly. not a moment of shock and pain crosses his expression… half a second? that’s a different story. all he knows is that he will never be able to face you the way he used to ever again. his worst fear had come true. you had his unmasked self out on full display, and there was nothing you wanted in him. no qualities you saw in him befitting of a partner. he wonders, maybe you would like him better if he was… ah, no. he knows he mustn’t think like that.

you’ll find that he’s slightly more reserved the next day. he doesn’t even seem to see you as a friend, more an acquaintance. even he can’t hide the drastic change, relying on luck and hoping you wouldn’t corner him about it. jade hates lying to people he loves, so he’d simply have to tell the truth. but a part of him hopes that you care enough to attempt to maintain that special connection you had before. however, another part of him simply wants you gone. hm, he was never the best with emotions… maybe he’d just lie to himself and say that love for you didn’t exist.

floyd leech

…ugh. now he was really in a bad mood. … this wasn’t fair. how come he had to love you, but you saw him as some rowdy guy? this sucks. you suck. no way.. he wasn’t tearing up like some heartbroken fishy.

once again, floyd leech cannot seem to control his emotions. it has always been a… problem with him. everyone avoided him because of this factor, choosing to scramble back from the eel. but you… he thought you were different. you didn’t freak out and scatter like a sardine when he appeared in a hall, instead choosing to greet him if he struck up a conversation. he thought you loved him. or at the very least, liked him. wrong.

you got on well with everyone. of course he had to take that as a sign you were a friend. the cold and harsh rejection you served him was enough to prove he was an idiot, thanks. the emphasis on why he was unloveable was more than enough, thanks. …oh who is he kidding, he wouldn’t fall for someone like that. floyd had been a hopeless romantic ever since he saw that one movie about a couple. deep down inside, he hoped it would be just like that. too bad you knocked that dream out of him so fast, because it’d be a while since he’d call another his little shrimp. floyd doesn’t even leave his room for a while, opting to curl up on his bed and delete the hundreds of photos he took of him and his ‘shrimpy.’

[btheleaf]

Linzin cuddles and marshmallows?

"What the hell?" Toph said as she went to open the front door of her house. "Twinkletoes Junior. I could sense you shivering the moment you set foot on the ground. What are you doing flying in a snowstorm?

Tenzin stood shivering with one hand on his retracted glider. The other hand was up, ready to knock for entry. He had a bashful smile on his face and he scratched the back of his neck. The snow outside had already accumulated up past the tops of his feet and didn't show signs of letting up. "I came to see Lin," he admitted.

"Get in here before your mom kicks my ass for letting you get hypothermia."

The young airbender shuffled inside and took his shoes off, putting his glider by the door.

"Lin!" Toph yelled. "Your idiot boyfriend is here! Come deal with him!"

"What?" Lin shouted from her room. Her thudding footsteps came down the stairs. "What are you doing here, Tenz?"

"We had plans." Tenzin deadpanned.

Lin scoffed. "We had plans to go to the outdoor mall. Which, as you're aware, is outdoors. You know I hate the cold."

"I know." Tenzin's teeth clattered from his shivering. "I still thought we could hang out though."

"Why are you shivering? Don't you have built-in heating or something?"

Tenzin frowned. "I still haven't figured that one out yet."

Lin squinted her eyes at him and sighed. "Come on." She started back upstairs. "You need to get out of those wet clothes."

Tenzin followed her and waited awkwardly in her doorway as she grabbed some clothes from her drawers. She shoved the clothes into his hands and pushed him into the bathroom. Tenzin knew better than to protest outright. He unfolded the garments and saw that she had given him some gray sweats and a black t shirt. He got changed and placed his orange and red outfit on the radiator to dry. The pants fit surprisingly well, but the hem of the t shirt barely came down past his belly button. He was still trying to pull it down when he walked out of the bathroom. Lin saw him and laughed heartily.

"Stop it, Lin. This is embarrassing."

"That'll teach you to go flying in a snowstorm, twinkle toes."

"Don't call me that!" Serving to add to his embarrassment, his voice cracked.

Lin doubled over laughing. Tenzin's face went from pink to red.

"Come on, mom made some hot cocoa." She said as she wiped away her tears.

Tenzin followed her downstairs to the kitchen. She told him to sit on the couch and brought in two steaming cups of cocoa. He graciously accepted the cup and held it with both hands to help it warm his fingers. The sweet smell of chocolate filled his nose as he breathed deeply over the mug. Lin tossed a blanket over his legs and sat next to him, pulling the blanket halfway over so it covered her legs as well. She sat by the arm of the couch, but close enough that her leg and arm pressed against his.

"Thank you, Aunt Toph!" Tenzin shouted at the kitchen doorway.

Muffled grumbling came from the kitchen, and Toph came out and threw a bag of marshmallows on the low table in front of them before she moved off into a different room. Tenzin grabbed the bag of marshmallows and plopped one into his mug. He took another one in his hand and shot a questioning eyebrow at Lin. She held out her mug and took one as well.

The two teens sat in silence and enjoyed their cocoa as they listened to the radio. Tenzin enjoyed the excessive sweetness on his tastebuds. Not many things on Air Temple Island were so sweet. They relied on community donations more often than not. Mugs were returned to the table when they were done, and Tenzin reached for Lin's hand under the blanket. She rested her head on his shoulder, and he rested his head on hers.

They watched the snow fall out the window and were slowly lulled to sleep by the warmth and calm.