Nothing but fandoms

Here is my finished mass attack and the closeups for it!

Like, imagine they're like "hahaha you can't escape! There is no earth here for you to bend!" And this little 12yo blind girl starts laughing her ass off in their faces and then she just makes a fucking hole in the ground and falls through it.

Quite the cast this season!

Threshold has me in a chokehold I’m afraid.

Shroud does his whole "this is the same gun that killed your father" bit after beating his ass to a plup and getting his goons to sit him up on his knees, but instead of spitting in his face Robert just smiles, closes his eyes and leans forwards. Gripping the barrel tight and holding it against his forehead.

"Go on...put me out of my missery"

And the gun clicks.

Empty.

"Lucky shot"

Click.

Empty.

There's six chambers. Two bullets in his dad and two empty chambers already hammered down on.

So Shroud goes to pull the gun away. Because the next barrel is live, and surely Roberts not that stupid. But he just holds it tighter. Even grabs Elliots wrist and keeps his grip firm on the trigger.

"Do it! Go on! End it, end this! Let me see him, please just...just let me see him again"

And he's crying. Snot and blood and red hot tears. Shaking. Unyielding. And tired. So tired. Tired of the chase, tired of running, tired of fighting. He doesn't care anymore. He can have the pulse. He can have the world. Because why stop him? What was the point of avenging a dead man anyway? He wasn't going to rise from the grave and pat him on the back. He wasn't going to ruffle his hair or cut the crusts off his sandwiches ever again.

He was a ghost.

And maybe Robert was better off being one to.

So Shroud pulls back the hammer. And squeezes the trigger.

Alice remembers being a little kid, laying in her bed and listening to the sounds of the TV through the walls. Her mom loved all those procedural shows—cop, doctor, CSI, fucking alien investigators or some shit. Anything she could just throw on without having to worry about what she missed last week if she was called in to work an extra shift.

She’d pick Alice up from daycare or Grandma’s house and they’d go home, where she’d cook dinner, still completely dressed for work—she always said that once she took her uniform off, nothing else was getting done. Alice would sit at the kitchen table doing her homework, and she’d mark the problems she didn’t understand, and Mom would come over and help her with them while the food was boiling or baking or frying. 

They’d eat together, chatting about each of their days, and then Mom would start a bath for her. The bathroom was right off of the kitchen, so she’d leave the bathroom door cracked so she could listen for her while she cleaned up from dinner. Alice would scrub herself like she'd been taught, and then she'd play to the soothing sounds of Mom clanking pots and pans around in the kitchen sink. Then if it was a hair-wash day Mom would come in and wash Alice’s hair before making her get out and dry off. 

And then Alice would go to bed, and Mom would go to her own room—right next to Alice’s—and put on her shows. 

She never stayed awake long enough to watch a full episode. Alice’s mom was on her feet all day, every day—if she sat down on a soft surface, there was no getting back up until her alarm the next morning. 

She usually got to around the twenty minute mark of an episode before dropping off. Sometimes Alice would go in there to ask her for something, just to find her dead asleep—sitting up against the headboard, no bonnet on, still wearing her glasses and jewelry.

So Mom would fall asleep and accidentally leave the TV on, and Alice would always hear it in her room, just on the other side of the wall.

She would lay there, sending little sparkles of light dancing across the ceiling and trying to listen to whatever show was on, until both the hypnotic shapes and the muffled sounds of the TV in the next room lulled her to sleep. Those nights were always the best sleep she ever got. 

When her mom worked late, Alice made her own dinner using the microwave, and she did her homework the best she could, and she gave herself a bath, and she put herself to bed. 

Before she went to bed, she would always turn the TV on so she could hear the noises through the wall. But it was never the same; the best part about hearing the TV at bedtime was knowing that Mom was there—that Alice wasn’t all by herself in the house. 

One time she asked her mom for an older sister, and actually stomped her foot like a sitcom character when she told her that wasn’t gonna happen. They laugh about it now, but at the time Alice was super fucking offended that Mom wouldn’t even consider it. 

She still remembers how Mom softened the blow when Alice couldn't understand why Mom wouldn't just pop out an older sister for her. “Babydoll, every single one of my Mama’s babies were boys except me, and she herself had five brothers. If I had any more kids, they’d probably all be boys too.”

Alice crossed her arms and wrinkled her nose. “But I don’t want brothers, I want a sister.” 

“I know!” her mom said, nodding all big and dramatic. “That’s why I didn’t have any more babies after you. I just knew you wouldn’t want no stinky boys running around this place—being rude, hogging the shower, eating everything in sight.”

“Wiping boogers everywhere,” Alice volunteered, giggling a little. 

“Exactly!” Mom nodded. “I hit the jackpot the first time with my Babydoll, so that’s when I decided: no more babies for me.”

Which was sweet and all, but obviously that wasn’t really the truth. 

Well, Mom probably did just want girls—she always liked doing all the girly shit with Alice on her days off—but she wouldn’t have had any more babies anyway. The full truth was that Alice’s daddy left her mom not even a year after Alice was born, and she never dated again. 

And yeah, she could’ve always got some action on the side from bars and shit, but she worked full time on top of being a mom. She was so exhausted and in pain after working a full shift and taking care of Alice that she didn’t even have the energy to ice her swollen feet, let alone get dressed up and go out just for some mediocre man. Plus Mom was always super protective of Alice—she’d never bring a strange man around the house. 

And anyway, it was hard enough having one kid, she wouldn’t have wanted another one. Looking back now, Alice definitely doesn’t blame her—if she’d had another baby, Grandma and Alice herself probably would’ve been the ones taking care of it most of the time. 

It fucking sucked back then, though. Yeah, a brother might have been messy and rude and annoying, but at least Alice wouldn’t have been alone while Mom worked. 

There’s a kind of silence that hangs around when you’re home all alone, and even if you turn on the TV or the radio or even just talk to yourself, it never really goes away. 

Alice felt that silence three or four nights a week, every week, for most of her childhood. It’s probably why she is the way she is now—always humming, always singing, always talking.

She likes being around people who make noise. Not loud people, necessarily, just people who make noise. It’s part of the reason she and Chad became besties—that man never shuts up, and Alice genuinely thinks it’s one of his best qualities (even if his mouth gets him in trouble sometimes). 

It’s also why she likes Herm. 

Yeah, she gave him shit when he first started, same as all the others. Man was named Waterboy, left a puddle everywhere he went, and they could smell his nervousness like fucking sharks with blood—of course they were gonna give him shit. It also didn’t help that he was replacing a teammate. They were all still pissed off about the cut, and he was the easiest target. 

But he kind of grows on you, like mold in a bathroom with shitty ventilation. The longer Alice knew him, the more she realized she liked him. And more than anything, she likes that he’s always making some kind of noise. 

He’s a nervous talker, which means he pretty much talks all the time. He has so many extra fucking words that they fall out of his mouth in fitful little groups. He stumbles over them, he trips over them. 

Even when he’s not talking, he’s still making noise—the fucking rubber suit squeaking, the water dripping, the way he hums and whispers to himself when he’s trying to concentrate on something. 

It drives the others crazy sometimes, but Alice likes it all. 

And yeah, she fucking likes the other stuff too. She likes the cute face, the gentlemanly care, the willingness to let her lead, the great sex. 

But more than anything, she likes it when he spends the night, even if it doesn’t happen often because his grandmother needs him. 

(And that’s another thing, Alice loves Herm’s grandma. 

She was a little nervous to meet her at first, since she’s a little old white lady and it’s always a toss-up whether they’ll be cool or racist. And that’s nothing against little old white ladies—hell, her grandma is white, and she’s one of the best, sweetest, most badass people Alice knows. 

But you just never know.

So yeah, she was understandably nervous. She likes Herm, and she didn’t wanna have to break up with him because his favorite person didn’t approve of their relationship. 

But Herm’s grandma was so warm and welcoming that it actually made Alice homesick for her grandma back in Michigan. 

She invited Alice inside, sat her down on the couch, offered her some fresh-baked cookies, and told her to call her Grandma. They talked for over two hours. Alice even got a kiss on the cheek when she left. 

Ever since then, she’s been sending Herm home with different herbs from her herb garden for his grandma to use when she cooks, and Herm always sheepishly comes back with an old Tupperware container full of something that tastes like home.)

But anyway, on the odd nights when Herm can stay over, Alice always loves it. Because even though it’s a pain in the ass to waterproof her bed and it’s annoying as hell to fall asleep holding hands with him and wake up with pruny fingers, it’s nice to drift off to his little sounds, to know that someone she trusts is there with her.