#rvb angst

[positiveoatmilkmotel]

Late Night Talks

(Caboose reviving Church through the epsilon unit)

Something about Caboose wearing Church’s old dog-tag man,,

[agent-washingtub343]

@hansblrrx​ Tumblr decided to eat your ask, so I had to find it in my email. Hope you enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He’d probably deny it to his dying breath, but he really did care about his fellow Blue team members. Not just as Alpha, but Epsilon too.

It was a normal night, Carolina was asleep after yet another long session spent planning moves against a force that had stolen Freelancer equipment. Even with the director gone, and the Reds and Blues safely relocated to a new home, she still felt like she had to bury the ghosts of her past.

Epsilon knew how important it was for her to make sure no one was ever hurt again by Project Freelancer, even if it was indirectly. So he had agreed to go with her, and now, staring out the window of the ship they had commandeered, Epsilon thought of his own ghosts.

He pulled up pictures of Allison, of Tex, the distinction between the two painfully clear. Allison, smiling as she held her equipment, ready to go to war in humanity’s defense. Tex, not even looking at the camera, unconcerned with anyone or anything but a burning goal that even she had not grasped. He scrolled through pictures of Florida, someone he knew now to be only a deceiver.

He paused as he came to a group photo of Alpha, Tucker, and Caboose. Alpha looked less than enthused, Tucker shoving at Caboose as he tried to joyfully pull Tucker into a bear hug. Epsilon chuckled lightly, swiping the picture to the side as he continued through the files.

There were various group shots of the team together, a few with Tex, a few with Sheila. He paused and laughed quietly when he arrived at a photo where Tucker was vainly trying to wrestle the sniper rifle from him...rather, trying to get it away from Alpha.

Epsilon sighed, shaking his head. Sometimes the distinction between himself and Alpha was difficult. He wasn’t even sure how he had the same memories of the time at Blood Gulch - maybe it had filled in when Caboose told him stories during his time in the memory unit.

There were very few pictures of Carolina with the Blue team, but that was to be expected. She hadn’t been with them for long, and was still learning to accept them as her new family.

Carolina stirred, and he tapped the files, instantly storing them away. “How was your rest? Ready to go kick some ass?”

Carolina stretched, joints popping. “Ready as I’ll ever be. How close are we?”

“She’s actually right in front of us.” Epsilon pointed at navigation.

“Then let’s go rob some pirates.”

[chrystamanthequins]

cus you’re going down, good friend,

so i’m letting go of your leg.

the houses you’re haunting will vaunt with a sick hearty laughter

- you’re one of them, aren’t you by the paper chase

----

drew some catified temple and ghost biff because i’d been drawing humans all day and wanted some cat art! it turned into a full piece very fast one youre one of them arent you started playing on my shuffle lol oops

(psst my catified designs are all f2u and are on @rvbcatified​ ! )

[tigereyes45]

It was Ridiculous

This is my secret santa gift for @vonlipvig for the @redvsbluesecretsanta event. They asked for Epsilon angst and possibly Yorkalina with Lina remembering York. So I combined the too with just some general angsty feels from Carolina about anything. Sorry, it was a couple days late. I ran into some unexpected posting complications over break.

________________________________________________________________

Ghosts don’t exist. So the thought of an AI, assuming he’s a ghost that could interact with the physical realm was sort of hilarious. A mind that was so incapable of accepting any other possibility that it’s almost impossible to connect it back to her father. Then Carolina remembers how impossible it was for him to accept her mother’s death. All the sudden Church’s sudden disappearing when even slightly inconvenienced makes perfect sense.

Carolina watches the old Blood Gulch Canyon clips with a bitter sense of melancholy and a twisted kind of joy. Epsilon wasn’t like her father, but he had never been so dimwitted either. It’s strange seeing the memory possess more common sense than the Alpha. She wonders if it was because he was so broken that it was a struggle to hold on to as much as he could.

“York? What about Lina?” She could feel her eyes grow as her heart beats faster. She wasn’t even aware that Alpha had remembered her. It was strange hearing her the twisted voice of her father genuinely ask after her health. The fact that it was his first instinct after hearing York’s name struck a different kind of chord.

“She was already dead.”

Alpha doesn’t even bother to ask, how or why. He doesn’t question the death of just another freelancer. It doesn’t even register in his program that it’s something to collect his interest. Not the way it leaves her with so many questions. She continues watching, now having a closer timeline of when York was killed. Learning who was with him in his last moments. Once upon a time, she would have assumed it was Tex who had killed him. The ghost of her mother who had taken everything away. Her father’s attention, the reason for all the work, why she joined the military, the reason why she left it.

The one who got York killed.

Tex doesn’t bother to explain any further either. Neither care for the freelancer they barely knew they were so connected to. Texas probably still hated her, as much as Carolina now just feels apathy and regret.  That thing had never been her mother, but it was her last connection to her parents. As much as she hates to admit it.

She pauses the video and takes off her helmet. Somehow the air had only gotten colder in the valley, despite the days steadily getting warmer. Looking up the stars look so scattered from here. Back on Earth, they were so close together. Little clusters of galaxies miles away that humans had only ever hoped to reach one day. It was so easy to forget that they were living during those “one day”s now. Able to go anywhere in the matter of hours, days, and months. Travel anywhere, and she was spending her days here. On a planet nowhere, with a bunch of idiots that somehow managed to get her further than her team ever had. They had actually managed to help her relax. Carolina leans back on the roof of their bases. Kimball had spared no expense to give them a great place to settle down.

York had wanted to settle down with her once upon a time. He was a smooth talker from the first moment they met. She wonders if he had ever lost that annoyingly sweet side of his personality before the end. Who was the last person to hear him talk? Was it Tex? Did she ever mention it? So far the videos show nothing, but it’s possible that at some point someone was told off-camera. She could ask, but it probably wouldn’t matter.

“Hey there.”

Carolina tenses and grabs her helmet close. She was ready to throw it until she saw the half apologetic smile on Wash’s familiar face. He holds his empty hands up. “Sorry I should know better than to sneak up on you.”

“You should.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah just thinking.”

“I uh, sorry, but I was looking for you and I heard the video playing.”

Carolina laughs and slowly sets her helmet back down. “That’s my fault for playing it out loud. I should have kept it to the helmet. I just wanted to hear their voices out loud. I know how weird that sounds, but -”

“No, it’s okay. You uh, you had more of a history with them then I did.”

“Epsilon was in your head first.”

“Yeah well the Alpha was kind of like, well a copy of your dad wasn’t he?”

“Yes.” She leans back on her arms and kicks her legs lazily over the side of the roof.

“You weren’t really thinking about them were you?”

“I was for a little bit.”

“Oh.”

A one-sided awkward silence settles down as Wash practically falls on his ass next to her. For the first time, she realizes he had been drinking. From the looks of him, it had been more than enough to get him drunk. He looked like he was ready to pass out at any moment now.

“So your mom. Was she as much of a bitch as Texas was?”

“Wow Wash. Your poker game with the reds and blues must’ve gone well, because you have even less tact than usual.”

“Sorry.” He leans over the edge of the roof. His body slacks and for the first time in what felt like decades Wash smiles. This reaction to being reprimand was new. So many times Wash would immediately cave when being lectured. Other moments, her favorites, he would snark back with a sly smile before getting it smacked off his face. He had a few good jokes back then. His humor had only gotten better with the years, and changes.

“Don’t be. From what I remember she could be, though not as bad.”

“What about York?”

“What about him?”

“Was he always a dick?”

Carolina grabs Wash’s shoulder as he leans further over the roof. He slowly pulls his helmet off. As soon as his mouth was uncovered the coughing starts. Carolina’s back straightens up as she moves to hold Wash with both arms. As soon as he was steady the vomiting started. It was a mess of brown, green, and noodles. As his hacking slows, she glances over to see it had painted the side of the building. None of it made it to the ground.

As she looks back to Wash the slimy dribble slowly begins to cover her armor. At least it wasn’t much. A quick clean up and some wax there shouldn’t be any sign or smell of the best. The smell of beer and Tucker’s mystery stew was a sure-fire way to ruin any clear night. Carolina pulls Wash up along with her. Somehow he was still mostly able to stand, even if walking was a far more difficult endeavor.

“Sorry Lina.”

“Don’t be Wash. I needed something to pull me from my thoughts.”

“Epsilon was also always sad. Whenever he got started he couldn’t be stopped. He, he had nightmares.”

“It’s okay Wash. We don’t have to talk about it.”

They walk in mostly quiet as she guides him back to his room. The white halls were eerily quiet despite the fact the others were partying just next door. Any quiet now was enough to bring back memories. After Chorus it was easier to not think about her old team and her parents. Easier didn’t mean impossible though. The bright lights were harrowing for her they must’ve been agonizing for Wash right now, but the panel for the hall lights is all the way on the first floor. So re-acquainting himself with suffering will just be his lot in life for the next few minutes.

Wash groans as Carolina finally manages to drag him into his dark room. She drops him onto the bed and tears his helmet off. His head goes flying back as a broken whine escapes him. He sounded like a lost puppy that was kicked into a ditched. It almost hurts her to hear it. She wonders if she should take his armor off, but realizes that if he has any other kinds of problems it would be better to leave it on. She pulls the shades on the window open. One more lesson wouldn’t hurt him too much. After all, she did keep him from throwing himself off the top of the roof with his dinner.

“Lina,”

His voice was so soft it barely stopped her at the door. She turns around on her feet to see the soldier laying half off the bed. His leg and arm clung to the sheets to keep him up like a sloth on a spindly branch.

“Yeah Wash?”

“I’m sorry about York. About Leonard too.”

“Don’t be Wash.” She flips him back over onto the bed. With a few poor attempts to untangle the sheets, Carolina gives up and leaves them twisted around his arms and legs. Somehow a knot formed in the sheets along his stomach. “I was the one that got them killed.” She had been the person to hand her father the literal gun.

His armored hand rubs up and down her arm. It barely moves, but there’s an air of familiarity around it that she hadn’t felt in years. If neither of them had the armor on it probably would be soft. When was the last time she felt another person’s skin on hers? Or something just as simple as a hug?

“It wasn’t your fault Lina. Not really.”

“If you say so Wash. Now how about you go to sleep?”

“Yeah. Sleep sounds nice. Donut showed a home video he and Doc made. It was supposed, supp-ta, to be about his farm back on Earth. It was oddly se-”

“I’m sure it was Wash. The video is over now. It’s time to rest.”

“Fiiiine.”

“Good.” Carolina stretches before hanging in the doorway. It was weird being this friendly with people again. Let alone with Washington. She never even expected to know his name let alone care about his health. Yet here they were. Stuck in a galaxy far far away, as the last members of a special unit no one will even remember once they’re dead. She looks out the window to see the stars glittering off the lake. The bright white lights were all that made the planet outside visible right now, and they were dim from the reflection of the hall lights.

The project was destroyed and finally, Washington could relax. She could settle down just like she should have done with York all those years ago

[mexicancarolina]

Numb (Agent Washington x Freelancer!Reader

Pairing: Washington x Freelancer!Reader Rating: General Warning(s): Mentions of violence and blood. Prompt: #15 Don’t die on me--Please... Since he can remember he has always been surrounded by death and he can’t take it any longer, not when he finally has to find you before it is too late. 

Washington knew death as an old friend. First was his father, his cats when he was a kid, partners that fought alongside with him...The deaths caused by his own hand.

He had heard several times that after a while you could grow numb to the feeling, but he had never received such a beautiful gift. Every death he had seen, caused and suffered were still fresh in the sleepless nights filled with nightmares he had constantly.

When he started his labors as Recovery, it was hell; watching the cold faces of his dead friends. People he knew by heart, people he trusted when he was naive and younger. 

Every time he had to blow a corpse up, he begged that the numbness finally replaced the guilt and pain. 

His worst fear was finding you, cold and stripped from life, leaving you to be just a memory more for him, to be another face haunting him in his sleep. He still cherished the moment he spent with you in your time as friends, and then when you evolved into something more and he couldn’t allow losing that. 

Then, one day the emergency beacon was ringing loud in his ears, showing the coordinates of a place not far from where he was. It was you. 

No, no. It couldn’t be. You couldn’t, you were better than that. 

Wash had to get where you were before it was too late. Before you were gone forever and he had to resist the urge to put an end to himself for all the pain a job like this was causing him. 

When he got there, it was quiet, and you were alone, cornered into the small space of the room. You pointed your gun at him, breathing heavily. At your feet rested a group of corpses from the people looking for you, looking for your armor and the information that you had.  

After all those years, you were there. Alive, just a couple of feet away, he wanted nothing more than to run and tackle you to the ground and tell you how much he had missed you; the only thing stopping him was that you didn’t seem to be letting go of your weapon. 

You were wary of him, of course, you had a couple of encounters with Maine that ended up pretty much bad, the same thing was with the twins...You couldn’t bring yourself to trust him. Even if something inside your head was yelling at you to do it, even if your heart was aching for him. 

“What do you want?” You asked with a hiss, feeling the blood trickle down your temple and your nape. “You came for it? My A.I? I don’t have it anymore.” And you had thrown it away into the water when you were running from the guys that were after you, not caring about the pain it caused you to do it. 

“You removed it by yourself?” He asked, surprised but not entirely. 

“Yes. What do you want, David?” You spat his name like venom, but it made his heart skip a beat hearing you say it after so many years. 

Washington let down his weapon, showing you he meant no harm. “I heard the emergency beacon. I came as fast as I could to help you.” You had to know that he would never hurt you. 

But you were still wary of him, and then, gave up, easing from your fighting stance and resting against the wall with a frown in your face. “You are a Recovery, then.”

“Yes.” He took a step closer, “I am here to help.” There was a smile curving his lips, and that feeling of coming back to you was there inside his chest, telling him to run towards you and never let you go. 

You could make his nightmares and the numbness go away. You could change it all if only you could trust him. 

“I missed you.” You said, your voice suddenly falling into something he couldn’t quite recognize. 

“I missed you too.” He was much closer in a second, resisting the urges of embracing you and hold you against his chest. 

“We need to talk about things. A lot of things.” His smile was wider under the helmet, feeling the relief of just being with you. 

“Yes, we do...” You were still frowning, looking around for your helmet, only to remember that it was long gone and into little pieces, maybe that was the reason the beacon was activated. “...but we need to get out of here. These guys have been following me for weeks.” 

And you feared for your life, even if your old lover was there claiming to help you. 

Wash nodded, taking just a second to lift his hand and touch you. Ghosting his fingers on the skin of your cheek, where he wiped away a small droplet of blood. The contact was so familiar coming from him, so loving and caring.

You drank in the sight of him in his armor, he was quite taller yet he seemed to curve his stance out of exhaustion, but he seemed to be the same man.

With a deep breath, you took a step away, allowing yourself to calm down for once, trying to sink in your mind the fact that you were not alone. 

And you held your gun tighter in your hands as you looked over the place just for a moment before leaving with Wash following close behind you. You had been sure to clear out the whole place just as a precaution while you still tried to find a place to settle in.

Wash wanted to speak, to ask something and to know what you had been doing since the last time he saw you, walking faster to catch up with you. 

And then a shot rang in his ears when you turned right in a corner. He shot his gun to the front, watching how the soldier stumbled backward as his chest bleed and he fell to the ground.

He heard you coughing and choking, and the mere sound was enough to make him feel sick. He slowly turned his head, only to see you with your gloved hand around your throat as blood spurted out from the bullet wound in your neck.

Before you fell, he hurried to hold you in his arms, wiping away with his thumb the line of blood that abandoned your lips. 

“No, no, no, no!” His voice was breaking as he fell to the floor on his knees with you on his arms. One of his hands went to your neck, applying pressure to make sure you wouldn’t bleed out, but the blood kept seeping out from your mouth. 

This was his fault. This was his fault. 

You looked up at him with wide eyes full of fear he had never seen before. You opened your mouth, only for more blood to come out, making you choke. 

“No, don’t speak.” He looked around to see if there was anything that could help you, but there was absolutely nothing. “Don’t die on me--Please...” He reached to rip his helmet from his head, taking a sharp breath when his voice broke into a sob.

“I just found you...” He cried, lowering his forehead to your chest plate to feel the slowing movement of your chest. “Please, everyone but you...”

You couldn’t leave like that, not when he had just found you, not when he had spent so much trying to find you and protect you.

Then, the slight movement of your chest came to a halt, and suddenly your body was too stiff, too cold. He didn’t know how much time he had spent there, crying over your body, but when the realization hit him there was blood everywhere.

In his hands, in his lap, pooling around you, and your eyes were closed like you were drowning into an uneasy dream. 

He called your name, and there was and response.

“Recovery One, what’s the status of the Agent (S/N)? Recovery One, are you there?”

It took him a long time to answer, “K.I.A. There was not an A.I, just her body, I already dealt with that” He was lying, because, you of all people you didn’t deserve to be just a name more on a list. 

He couldn’t blow your body up with explosives, he needed to bury you and give you a proper place to rest. God, what was he thinking?

He felt the urge to throw up, to just....stop and keep blaming himself. 

There was no blame, no.....nothing. 

He was numb. 

[startinginorange]

Anyone want some morally questionable character angst on this fine eve

Grimmons - Luitenants - Wash - Carolina - Church - Misc Post 1 - Misc Post 2 - Cosplay edits - Rogue One edits

[positiveoatmilkmotel]

Sketch and mini-fic of Tucker and Caboose!

light angst hurt/comfort fic, of Tucker trying to do Caboose’s uncared-for hair:

“Shit, dude, this is a rat’s nest.” Tucker judges, Inspecting the state of Caboose’s hair.

 “,,That’s a gross saying,, do rats even nest?”

Tucker sighs, ignoring the question, “Your hairs all tangled up.”

And really, it was. Caboose’s hair had gotten longer, he hadn’t cut it in a long time now, and he certainly didnt take the time to brush it out.

Caboose adjust his head on Tucker’s lap, letting the other lay his hair out, analyzing the damage, “How’d it even get like this?”

Caboose thinks for a moment, “Oh, well, I tried to brush it.”

…I mean, yeah, Tucker hoped for that, at least.

Tucker’s fingers got hooked on a particularly large knot, of the matted hair, “When, last?”

“When Church first disappeared.” That had been nearly 3 months ago.. “But then I couldn’t find my hair brush- and then, I was angry, that I couldn’t find it. And I didn’t even WANT to brush my hair, because it’s so loud.”

Tucker works to combs his hand through the ends of Caboose’s hair, “How the hell is brushing your hair, loud?”

Caboose actually shushes him, loudly puts a finger to his mouth, so he can continue his ramble. Tucker, not amused, raises his eye brows at him, but lets the man finish his monologue.

“So, it was so loud, and I couldn't find my brush, and I didn't want to use a comb- and then, I got sad, and doing it by myself was heavy,”

Tucker’s trying to get the picture, “So, You didnt brush your hair because, among other things- you couldn’t find your hair brush?” 

Caboose nods.

“And you didn’t think to like, ask someone else for a brush??” Tucker questions.

Caboose huffs, frustrated, “no, see, I did think about that, but it wouldn’t had been my brush, and I couldn’t brush my hair without it being mine.”

Tucker makes a mental note to just buy the man a new hair brush.

“Then, with my hair, I got used to it, so it’d be silly to ask for a brush after I got used to it.”

Tucker gives Caboose a look of well deserved disbelieve, “Yeah,, no, you shouldn’t get used to this type of stuff.” 

“But I did.” Caboose repeats. And he settles into his own mind, a little quiet, focused on the sensation on his scalp, as Tucker continues to work a particularly bad knot out with his fingers.

[positiveoatmilkmotel]

Imbalanced