[ Buffy takes a deep breath, nodding her head to Finnick. A thin smile of gratitude flickers across her face, slightly weary, and she takes his jacket to continue compressing her wound. She leans slightly into Rafael’s touch, looking up at him as she notes, ]
Please tell me that I’m just wacked out from all the being stabbed and that’s not a real robot.
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Please tell me that I’m just wacked out from all the being stabbed and that’s not a real robot.
[ How are their lives this fucked /?? ? ]