#survivors guilt must have honestly hit her hard

[handfulofmuses]

You can see an arm in the background when V kills her dad. It's likely that Yeva died first protecting her daughter and husband.

Yeva likely used the powers of the virus in an attempt to fight V so her husband could get Doll to safety. Even at the chance of her death, at least Doll would still have her father to take care of her. If the little interaction between Nori and Yeva is anything to go by, Yeva would have done anything to protect her family.

Doll is also hidden in the flashback. I am assuming her parents were trying to hide her so that V can't get to her, telling her to stay there.

They both tried so hard to protect their child that they both sacrificed themselves for her. Doll watched everything, became traumatized, was unable to let go of her grief to a point where she kept the corpses of her dead parents and also keep them as a reminder to what V did to them, shut herself away from everyone else because of stubborn desperation and thought she couldn't trust anyone but herself and in the end she was killed as well.

[mara-xx217]

Hai so can I request yandere reader killing another survivor for thier killer crush?

👀 Ohhh a yandere reader... Now this is something I can get behind. I did do something similar in Ch. 26 of Monsters' Favorite (feat. the Oni), but I honestly would like to write something new for this scenario!

Warnings: Disturbing Content, Extremely Toxic/Abusive Relationship, Dependance on Abuser, Murder

Maybe things were a tad different now than they were before... Would you have been this willing to receive pain before? What about dealing it? Did this place bring something out of you that was always lying dormant, or were you just doing what you truly believe to be necessary to survive? Maybe it was all him. Maybe you liked it more than you would ever admit to yourself...

He gave you a task- a challenge, really: kill the last survivor remaining through any means. Was it even possible...? Neither of you were really sure, but one thing was for certain: if you failed? You would be punished. Severely. You don't want that. You really- really don't want that! As much as you depended on him... you were terrified of him and what he could or would do to you. So, you have to try, and you have to try hard.

You were in Springfield- In Badham. What the hell are you supposed to do?! Would the Entity allow you to do this? What if She didn't? David? No way in hell. Claudette? N-No... You don't want- The new guy? What's his name...? Yes, yes it should be him. It'll be easier: no attachments or personal feelings there... It's not personal... You set out to look for him. That yellow coat... Should be easy to find, right? He must want this to be painful for you. Who was downed first? New guy. Who was first to die?

He wanted you to kill Claudette. You should have known- but you just didn't want to think about it. She was okay- she wasn't an asshole or a self-righteous prick- Claudette was okay, and you didn't want to hurt her... But you didn't want to be punished, either. It was only the two of you in one of the empty Badham homes. On the second floor. With open windows... It wasn't too high... Every single one of you have jumped from higher, but then again... the pavement should be hard enough...

Claudette had motioned for you to follow her. She had her back to you as was preparing to jump out of the window- But before she did, she froze, abruptly backing into your chest. "A-Ah-! Wait! Ghostface is-! Wha-?!" She gasped as the flat of your palms made contact with her back. Claudette gracelessly tripped out of the window, smacking the back of her head on its frame as she fell to the ground with a shockingly wet CRUNCH that made your stomach rebel against you.

It's done... She's dead; you can feel the Entity provide you with an alternate means of escape. You don't step any closer to the window, you even back away from it. A range of conflicting emotions hit you at once, ranging from disgust and crushing guilt to relief and a strange giddiness that it's finally over. You back into someone- into him.

"Well, well! You certainly outperformed yourself, Kitten. That's my good girl..." A gloved hand strokes your cheek as he wraps an arm around your chest, securing you flush against his body. It shouldn't feel good, but you'd be lying if you said it didn't. Whenever he praised you, it always went straight between your legs. He made you feel these horrible things, and as much as you hated him, you know that you would die without his touch.

"You deserve a proper reward, what do you think, hmm?" You shiver as the sharpness of his blade scrapes against your rib cage. All you can do is nod, and before you have time to catch your breath, you're already gasping as he cuts through your shirt with the tip of his knife.

"Keep this up, and I'll never let you out of my sight ever again...

@prettycutebunny @gore-loving-whore @kennbb @cherrysodalite @dead-bxtch-walking @space-arsonist @pink-soft-shadow

[highfaelucien]

While on the topic of wishing sjm had done something different for her characters, I really wanted something more for cassian. For example, cassian’s wings going from being completely ruined in the end of acomaf to being 100% healed in acowar made no sense to me. I think it would’ve been an opportunity for the growth of cassian’s character to see him go through the loss of losing the ability to fly and instead retrain himself to be a warrior in other ways and find other things about himself that prove his own worth to himself. Given the fact that cassian’s confidence is aligned with his ability to protect and serve others, it just would have been sooo good to see him overcome his grief and become even stronger of a character. And how wings, in general, are a sense of male pride among illyrians. I think this would’ve been the perfect way to write cassian and have him break away from his own idea of masculinity. He could have redefined what it meant for him to be a Man ™. Ugh, it just could have been so GOOD, imagine the character we could have gotten from him.

Listen, after ACOMAF, when this happened, EVERYONE was buzzing about this. Most people thought he wouldn't outright lose his wings permanently, but there would be a LOT required.

And then ACOWAR came and approximately nothing happened whatsoever. Oh he had to be healed. the healer had to rebuild his wings. he had to do strength training every day. But fundamentally: not a sausage.

Personally? I think Maas chickend out. I think she was unable to commit to taking Cassian's wings, or figuring out how to write him as anything other than what she's established him as: fun jock man who likes to hit things real hard and make dick jokes sometimes.

Having to see Cassian vulnerable? Having to see him broken, and struggling, and having to reevaluate his entire life and self-esteem and sense of masculinity would have been an incredible option for a character arc.

Most of the theorising/Nessian fics involved Nesta helping him. The two of them being broken/fundamentally altered by their experiences in Hybern - she being killed and Made with a dark power, Cassian losing his wings.

There was expected bonding over that, peeling away the masks they both wear to discover the softness underneath. The two of them being able to reach one another, because of their bond, in a way the others could not. It produced some pretty epic stuff, honestly.

And how badly I wanted that I didn't FULLY realise until the disappointment of ACOSF, when it hit fully.

Because instead of stripping Cassian back and seeing the tactician, the strategist, forcing him to put his other skills to use, to develop those skills, rather than 'smash with sword and ask questions later'. This man is a General. All the combat training in the world doesn't let you be good at this job if you can't command, if you can't use tactics, if you can't strategise.

And THIS is where I wanted to see Nesta. Nesta, the woman who calculated how many ships would be needed to save the humans of Prythian. The woman who looked at Greysen's manor and assessed its capabilities and saw a prison. The woman who devours history novels, who has a tactical, cunning mind. Who has never been a warrior or a creature of brute strength or physical abilities.

THIS is how I wanted to see Nesta evolve. This was how I wanted to see her develop. I didn't want her taken out of lady's dresses. I didn't want her forced into fighting leathers, to basically become another copy of her sister, and follow down that path.

I wanted her to take her own. I wanted her to finally be in a place where she could learn, and strategise, and contribute. And I wanted her to work with Cassian on this - who was grounded because of his wings, who couldn't command on the frontlines anymore, or even fight. Who had to stay back, and see how he handled this. How he maintained his authority. How he maintained his sanity without his wings.

We could have had so fucking much. Such a powerful narrative about survival. I wanted her in the library, with the other survivors, (and with fucking MORRIGAN - not sidelined, not dismissed, not being bitchy and catty for the sake of it. But someone who visits the library frequently, who interacts with the women there, and sometimes just is a woman there herself, because there are still hard days.)

But no. No instead of something nuanced, and original, and actually tailored to Nesta's strengths as a character, we got Yet Another Weapon's Trainng Montage.

We got the narrative that the only way to heal from abuse is to be able to beat the shit out of your abusers. Because that's #GirlPower, right?

It makes me so furious I almost want to just. Just fucking rewrite the whole damn fucking thing myself the way it SHOULD have gone.

And I know you talked about Cassian and not Nesta, so I do apologise, but they were tied together. But I agree.

We all wanted Cassian to evolve from that 'Lord of Bloodshed' / "savage brute" because reading between the lines and forcing some nuance from these books, which is the only way to survive: Cassian has a lot of layers. There's a lot of trauma there. A lot of insecurity. A lot of angst. A lot of heart. A lot of fucking INTELLIGENCE. (I'll fight on that point, I really will. Cassian is not a dumb himbo who can barely add 1 and 1).

But sjm was too busy writing him having a hard on for Nesta to explore....anything about himself. Or his relationship with Azriel, and Rhys, and Mor, and everyone else.

The removal (even temporarily) of his wings would have allowed for a LOT of that exploration.

Firstly, the fact that he injured them by CHOICE, saving Azriel's life. That would have been such a deep connection and bond between them. The guilt that Az would feel - but the potential for Cassian to step in, even with his wings gone, and say that he'd do it again.

Because Azriel is his brother. He loves him. And it was worth it. It would be worth it a hundred times over to save him. Because he's worth saving. And he's worth sacrificing for. And what that would have done for Az as a character, too. Who always offers himself up first for dangerous missions, puts himself in peril to protect the others.

And having Cassian join Feyre and Az's flying lessons? Because Cass having to relearn how to fly once (if) his wings healed to that extent, means letting Azriel train him. Because those old instincts aren't enough. And he has to learn how to strengthen them, and train with them. And how this affects his perception of himself and his masculinity, as he said. But also deepening his understanding for Az, and the bond the two of them share, in having this experience together.

Bonding with Rhys, who FINALLY fucking opens up to someone and has some nuanced therapy-like conversations about what happened with Amarantha. The sacrifces they've made for their people. How they'd do it again but it still hurts, and changes them, and how they have to learn and grow and move on from that and heal together.

Rhys working with Cassian on his other talents, using him as the skilled strategist and tactician he MUST be. Helping him to develop that, keeping his brother from losing his mind while he can't fight or use his physicality to solve problems, as he usually does.

Mor personally healing and tending to Cassian. Mor being there at his bedside every day while he was bed bound. Mor becoming as possessive and overprotective of both him and Az as any mate ever has been.

Mor speaking to him about her own rehabilitation after what her family did to her, the physical toll that took on her. Mor's heart breaking because she nearly lost both him and Az and she couldn't handle that at all. Mor reiterating how much she fucking loves him, and how she needs him.

Mor helping him through the darker days of his depression because she's been there. And she knows what it is to put on a front. To always be laughing, and joking, without the seriousness of life -leave that to the others. But sometimes it's too much and he needs to break down. And be angry. And furious. And hopeless. And scared. And that's what she's there for. Because she understands.

Mor winnowing him to his favourite spots that he can't fly to anymore, just so he can be there. The two of them spending time, and bonding, and developing that relationship we got in ACOMAF beyond 'we bicker constantly and drink together and make sexual innuendos'.

Even Amren showing up and doing her part. Snapping at him to stop brooding so much. But also bringing him some of her puzzles. Some of her favourite military history books (which she has anotated and edited to highlight the bits that have been incorrectly reported). Spending time with him to stop him going mad. Exhausting herself those first few days personally attending to Cassian's wings, and snarling at anyone who tried to interfere.

IT COULD HAVE BEEN SO MUCH.

IT COULD HAVE DEVELOPED SO MUCH WITH THE INNER CIRCLE. AND CASSIAN. AND NESSIAN. AND JUST. EVERYTHING WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER BUT NAW. IT WAS BASIC ASS AND BORING AND I'M GONNA DIE MAD ABOUT IT.

[migila]

It’s been a while, but now it’s SnK fic time!

Shared Sorrow

Nikolo walked mechanically ahead, knowing the route to his destination from the heart by now. The grave yard wasn’t devoid of other people, but this time, none of them paid him any mind, fortunately. No wonder there; with most of the older military police officers gone due to the poisoned wine, hardly anyone knew his face. As much as he regretted his past actions, he was grateful for the safety they brought him now. If it wasn’t for his sorrowful destination, this peaceful and beautiful day would certainly be a good one.

“Who’s that?” he wondered as he saw someone sitting at the grave he was heading to, not that he had to wonder for long. That particular deep shade of black combined with that other shade of red would give the person away to anyone who knew her “Mikasa?”

The woman turned her head, and Nikolo could see the bags under her tired eyes. Not that he could blame her; he was sure lots of people had had sleepless nights recently due to-

He stopped in his tracks. The rumbling… if Mikasa was here, then that meant it must be over, regardless of the outcome.

Nikolo looked around quickly, but while there were other people around, he knew none of them. He saw no Levi Squad, no Commander Hanji, no Onyankopon or Yelena, nor the warriors or…

…Or Eren Yeager.

What did all that mean? Why only Mikasa? If they managed to stop the rumbling, surely there’d be at least some other survivors alongside her. And if not, even if Eren had won, surely at least one or two people along with the younger Ackerman would’ve escaped, right? Where was everyone else?!

“Hello, Nikolo” the woman said, and then, like she didn’t have anything more to say, turned back to face the grave. Nikolo stood there in silence for quite a while, his grip hard on the flowers he’d brought, not sure what to ask, where to start. In the end, he went straight to the point: “Where are Jean and the others?”

He wanted to ask how was the rest of the world, but that felt too insensitive. Friends first.

“Most likely still in Marley; they’re trying to clear the air there, I think”

That answered both what he had asked and what he hadn’t asked. If air needed to be cleared, that meant there were still people left out there who to clear with it. They’d managed to stop the rumbling before it destroyed the whole world. It was happy news and, briefly, Nikolo wondered if any of his family or friends outside the island had survived. He knew he shouldn’t get his hopes up, but surely, there was a chance-

“We lost Commander Hanji, though” Mikasa spoke “She fought to buy us time to chase after Eren and fell in battle.”

“Oh” unlike Onyankopon, Nikolo had not been close with the woman, in fact she kind of creeped him out, but her passing did hit him “I’m sorry to hear that…”

He had to ask, just in case.

“What about everyone else? Are they alright?”

“Eren is dead”

The words came immediately, just a stone-cold fact. Nikolo’s first reaction was the feeling of relief, but remembering who the information came from, it was followed by the feeling of guilt. He didn’t know Mikasa and Eren well, hadn’t known Eren well, and wasn’t close with them, but he wasn’t blind. It had quicky become clear to him just how close to each other the two were.

“I’m sorry to hear that” and he was, though he felt far sorrier for Mikasa than Eren himself. He felt sorry for Armin, too, wherever he was, knowing he’d been close with the guy, too. And he felt sorry for Jean; as much as the man complained about Eren, Nikolo would’ve have to have been a fool to not notice how fond his friend had been of the man.

Mikasa didn’t say anything to that, didn’t even show any sign that she heard him. Nikolo fiddled with the flowers in his hands, not sure if it’d be proper of him to approach Sasha’s grave now with Mikasa there. Should he come back later?

“Does it get easier?”

The question is sudden, and it takes a while for Nikolo to realize that it’s directed at him. He’s about to ask Mikasa what she means, but as his gaze meets hers, she’s looking at him over her shoulder again, he realizes that, somehow, he understands.

“…I don’t know” he replies honestly. Now, it feels natural to approach to lay down the flowers, so he does just that, crouching down in front of the grave “Maybe it will, eventually. Life keeps going, as will we along with it.”

Or at least, so Nikolo hoped. Mikasa had not lost her will to live along with Eren, had she?

…If she had, she probably wouldn’t have come all the way here.

“When Trost fell, Armin saw Eren get eaten. We thought he was dead” Mikasa broke the silence that threatened to fall. Nikolo recalled hearing about this from Sasha before, but he didn’t comment on it. He waited to hear what Mikasa had to say “For a moment, I lost myself for it. I couldn’t think straight during battle and gave others trouble. I ran out of gas, fell off the roofs and hit the ground. A titan was approaching, and I was ready to give up. And yet…”

Mikasa quieted down. Patiently, not in a hurry to go anywhere, Nikolo waited for her to continue.

“Had I died there, I wouldn’t have been able to relive through the memories of him” she finally says “He lives on in my memories. As long as he’s not forgotten, he’s not really gone.”

It was a comforting thought.

“I see” Nikolo said “Perhaps that is why people mark graves and visit them.”

“Maybe”

They stay there for a long time, ignoring the world around them, neither speaking a word. At one point, Nikolo sits down instead of crouching, but aside from that, they don’t move. The sun is already setting by the time Nikolo decides to speak up again.

“I should head back; I told the others I’d visit Sasha’s grave, but it’s getting late”

“Are you staying with her family?”

“Yeah”

It’s not like he had anywhere else to go.

Nor did he have anywhere else where he’d want to be, either.

“Where will you go now?”

“…I hadn’t thought about it” Mikasa confesses “Perhaps I’ll search for Historia and inform her of what has happened.”

That was probably wise; the queen should know the situation. But-

“Do you know where to look?”

Silence. Nikolo takes that as a no.

“It’s getting late” he says, standing up “You must be tired as well. Let’s head to Dauper, and after some rest, we can figure out how you’ll find the queen.”

Nikolo held out his hand for Mikasa to take, wondering if he was overstepping a line in telling her what to do, but she seemed just so… lost. And he knew a lot about that, about not having any direction in life.

He was surprised when the woman actually did take his hand.

“Right” Mikasa agreed. Nikolo pulled her up and, wordlessly, they were on their way.

Nikolo couldn’t help but wonder what Sasha would have done, what she would have said, to comfort Mikasa. Perhaps it’d take years before he stopped wondering what Sasha would’ve done in any situation, or perhaps he’d never stop. But then again, maybe that was a part of keeping her memory alive. That, at least, was something he could do.

[vaguely-concerned]

Some T.F./Graves thoughts from their bios

I realize what a dumb move it is to base uuuuh basically anything on lol bios, since riot apparently change those like other people do underwear, but if I’m not here to build my castles on sand what am I here for honestly  

- I LOVE the description of their first meeting, it’s such a meet cute lol... these two assholes really did just take one look at each other and mutually went ‘so is anyone gonna enter into a life-defining homoerotic partnership with this lying cheating bastard??’ and then neither of them waited for an answer 

- Though at times Twisted Fate would blow all their shares and leave them with nothing to show for it, Graves knew that the thrill of some new escapade was always just around the corner…

I am genuinely a little emotional about how obvious it is that at the end of the day the money really is secondary to him - what really drives him is how much FUN they have together. (he seems in general quite driven by that sense of Adventure; if it were just about the cash he had steady work in bilgewater before he took the trip over to the mainland as a kid) it’s like the part of ‘the road to el dorado’ in the boat except more sincere... ‘you made my life an adventure bro’ :’) 

(also very funny that graves’ bio is where you learn that t.f. doesn’t always win or get away with his shit hahaha, in his own bio it’s played like ‘oh gotta let people win once in a while to throw off suspicion’ flasdhfjsad. it’s mentioned he gets caught a lot more without graves watching his back too, which also gets me in my feelings a bit) 

- one thing I find interesting is that t.f.’s parents aren’t referenced directly at any point (the only family members mentioned specifically are his aunt and grandfather, I’m pretty sure). I’m wondering if they were already out of the picture somehow and that’s part of the reason no one spoke up for him? I mean it’s fucked up either way, I don’t know what’s worse; that his people found it so easy to exile him because he didn’t have anyone to protect him, or that his parents were alive and JUST LEFT HIM THERE. like what the fuck. from how it’s written it’s pretty clear he was still considered a child at the time too, so, y’know. (Graves is described as ‘little more than a youth’ when he headed for the mainland while T.F. seems to have been a kid when he started being on his own, so I’ve headcanoned something like 16-17 and 13-14 for their respective ages of leaving home, with both of them around 19 when they met) I’m quite curious about what kind of internal family politics were at work for them to apparently all agree -- or perhaps be too intimidated to disagree -- to exile a child for life with no recourse and no resources. like yeah okay he messed up but that’s some next level assholery to pull on a kid honestly, no wonder he grows up to have a bunch of abandonment and emotional intimacy issues (and presumably some prime survivor’s guilt as well. oh buddy) 

- eternally entertained by how much meeting t.f. is worded like the ‘how they met their spouse’ section of a wikipedia article in graves’ bio

Across one table, he met a deplorable fellow named Malcolm Graves is also *mwha* so good 

- for fic purposes I would just like to give a moment of thanks for the paragraph in graves’ bio that mentions a bunch of shenanigans they got up to back in the day, very useful thank you

- from what I understand t.f.’s exile-causing transgression has been changed quite recently from fighting back to running away, which I am so happy about because it makes a lot more psychological sense to me and makes graves’ words in ‘burning tides’ hit so much better.  

- I like that their individual descriptions of graves being captured are so indicative of how they each think about it -- namely t.f. doesn’t want to think about it (repress! repress! repress! very relatable) but probably has the more accurate view of it: The exact details of that night remain shrouded in mystery, for neither of them likes to speak of it—but Graves was taken alive, while Tobias and their other accomplices ran free, while graves does think about it but sort of still has his trauma goggles on for it: During a heist that rapidly turned from complex to completely botched, Graves was taken by the local enforcers, while Twisted Fate merely turned tail and abandoned him. t.f.’s is obfuscating and refusing to engage in the emotional aspect of it, graves’ is much more emotive in the language used, like ‘abandoned’. the lol bios often teeter awkwardly between straight biographies and wanting to dip into prose/flavour text, I must say I usually find them very clunky and unsatisfying, but this juxtaposition works for me.

sort of weird the details that don’t make it in, though -- like the fact that they’re both aware that miss fortune was the one who screwed them over in the whole gangplank Situation? (I love that part in ‘destiny and fate’ where graves is gamely like ‘yeah of course I’ve got a grudge against her but that was pretty metal too so y’know *shrug*’ haha)   

- it’s interesting how much t.f.’s uh connection I guess to the cards is almost described as some kind of... compulsion/unstoppable drive in the middle of his bio and then fades into the background towards the end (because his priorities have changed to repairing his marriage now that it’s an option and by god I support him in that). I really do wonder how his card magic actually works -- it’s a cool mix of extremely unsubtle and undeniable sorcery (straight up throwing fireballs around) and subtle (’hunches’, being ‘guided’, just knowing things he sort of shouldn’t), which seems to be where it started

also it seems like he can do it with just about any playing card he comes across? would be sort of weird if it’s the cards that are special, considering he keeps throwing them away and also I don’t know a lot about gambling but I distinctly imagine that casinos don’t let you use your own decks haha. and t.f. seemingly can’t do magic just on his own, without them. so it’s a thing that happens very specifically in relationship, when all the elements come together, symbiotically sort of thing? could he do magic without the cards but it’s how he’s trained himself to think of it so he doesn’t realize it (well I honestly doubt that but just for the thought experiment)? is there some sort of spirit behind those cards looking out for him? is it lady luck keeping an eye out for her favorite boy lol? we know this stuff can physically change the cards like when they showed the crown in ‘destiny and fate’, and he seems able to ‘prime’ a card with magic beforehand if ‘double-double cross’ is anything to go by, but even then mf can’t actually use or release it. hmmmmm many questions  

- the more of my long fic I write the more I am questioning what the fuck these two DO with all the money they steal -- like they’ve clearly pulled off some HUGE heists, surely it can’t all go into like drinks and cigars and fancy waistcoats and tf’s seemingly unending supply of playing cards

do they have like. a bunch of small caches of gold hidden away all across two continents in case of emergency? are their buried treasures the stuff of runeterran urban legend and people go out hunting for them? Have they invested this stuff in actual banks? (actually no I refuse to accept that as a possibility lol if nothing else this would make it hard to figure out if they were robbing THEMSELVES sometimes, sounds like a lot of hassle)

- His people had always waved away concerns over primitive magic and “cartomancy”, but now Tobias began to seek out ever more dangerous means to bend the cards to his will. 

I’m having a little bit of a hard time parsing this -- does this mean his people didn’t believe the cards were magic at all and he’s the only person he knows who can do it, or do they know but just don’t think can be dangerous??? I chose one particular interpretation for my fic, but I honestly can’t figure out what it’s actually meant to mean haha

- T.F. getting a special satisfaction from robbing people who are Assholes is a good character detail (his colour story really goes out of its way to show that the merchant he’s playing against is a real shitbag, for example); there is some lopsided form of righteousness/sense of justice there, I think. and it also ties in with why I like that his exile was because he ran away rather than because he resorted to violence -- there’s this underlying sense that he particularly enjoys outsmarting people who’re dickish to outsiders in precarious situations (like his people) so thoroughly that they don’t even realize it before he’s long gone, without ever having to even lay a finger on them, because that’s a way to fight back while staying out of reach when you come from relative powerlessness. There’s a... lack of malice, I guess, to both of them that I find quite endearing, you can see in Burning Tides that even at his most mindlessly vengeful Graves doesn’t actually enjoy being actively cruel. ‘mutual sense of roguish honor’ is RIGHT they’re bad men but not Bad men you get me  

- All in all, Twisted Fate is glad to have his old friend back, even if it might take another job or two—or ten—to restore their once easy partnership.

This probably means nothing because as I said the lol bios seem an endlessly shifting kaleidoscope of canon, but I think it’s so sweet that both of their last sentences/’where are they now’ statements are about them wanting to repair their partnership (and do some Cool Big Stuff together in graves’ case, I do wonder if that’s foreshadowing for the ruined king game or what)

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Life After Snowpiercer: Tell Me, Please?

Summary- Curtis Everett x Y/N. Tensions are still there between you two, but Curtis demands an answer. Your group collects the last bit of supplies and makes it towards the front, only to be confronted at the end. Trauma, Some Violence. Word Count- 4.9k

Chapter 7 / Masterlist

Curtis watched you sleep, in sleep you relaxed yourself from whatever plagued you, during the night having pulled in half sprawled across his very sore ribs, and laid your head in the center. The rise and fall of your shoulders so slight that he would have to really be studying them to see that yes, you were still asleep. You faced away from him, but you sighed softly and shifted yourself, tilting yourself closer, his eyes able to rove over the curve of your nose, and how your lips have chapped slightly. The dark bruises under your eye, at first it would see to have been tiredness, but much to the anger he was feeling coil in his gut, someone must have hit you hard at some point the past few days. His eyes continued to rove, noticing other scrapes, and bruises along your scalp line.  Would you tell him though? Further he noticed that there was a cut in the corner of your mouth and without a thought, his fingers brushed along the mark, hissing to himself when your eyes shot open, unfocused and a touch of fear clouding them. In all the years you two have known each other, you never looked at him like that, and it phased him more then you could know. 

You were fallen in one of those dreamless deep sleeps, the kind where your cocooned in darkness and nothing is drawing you forward into images. Blackness, soothing blackness. There was no visual moments where you had to think and rationalize. It was peaceful. Things merely ceased to exist. 

A touch brought you back, so light but the sting it left near your lips brought it back and you tensed, ready to yank away when your eyes opened, prepared for the worst, that sneering grin reaching for you in your safe place, ready to drag you out and put vile pain all over your body. No, we escaped, we got out.

Curtis face sharpened second later in your view, and you softened, loosening your grasp in his jacket where you had fisted your hands to keep from being pulled away. See Y/N, your safe. This is home. Curtis hand slid from your mouth to brush aside the soft hairs curling over your cheek, and you dragged in a deep breath, and released it, feeling your chest expand and his steady heart beating underneath your cheek kept you grounded. “Bad dream?” Curtis asked after a few seconds of the two of you just staying silent. You quirk the corner of your mouth a bit “Nothing serious Curtis.” Your hand smoothed over his chest and you realzined where you were laying. “Shit sorry baby, your ribs.” Going to move his hand clasped on the back of your neck to keep you from moving. 

“Dont, they are fine. Tell me about what you were dreaming about?” Hoping she would relax enough just the two of them to talk about what you were thinking about. His grasp turned lighter now that you werent moving, sliding his thumb over the column, and you slightly relaxed once more, biting your already chapped lips and wincing slightly at the sting. 

“Yea, I saw you favoring your side Curtis” You informed him, but you didnt move. Honestly after the past few days, you were just fucking thankful you got to do this again. “And nothing, hell I think I was so damn tired, it wasnt sleep. Somewhere just before a coma.” You rub your face lightly against his chest and sigh. “I could slip back into it right now if we didnt have to prepare to move to the front.” His thumb continued to feather along your neck, circling over the bruises of fingertips that had pressed down to hard. Faint, but Curtis saw them better now that your hair wasnt covering them. 

“What happened Y/N?” his brows coming together and lifting the heaviness of your hair back from your neck. You then pulled away and straightened your hair back over your neck. He shifted to half sit up on his elbows. “Y/N, you gotta tell me who put hands on you?-” His inquiry got interrupted when your name got called, and you took the moment to avoid Curtis questions, calling back out. “In here!” Tugging on your jacket and looking at Curtis “We will talk about it later baby, promise.” His hand moved against your arm to keep you with him, but you slipped out of his hold. Leaving him there with more questions and no answers. His lips thinned tightly and his jaw clenched, a dark suspicion inkling its way into his thoughts. 

All of those fuckers are dead. His thoughts snapped as he snatched his jacket, trying to keep from blowing over. Im going to hunt every single on of them down.   It was the last thing you needed was him loosing his temper, but that didnt stop the rage building in his chest, or the guilt. Why didnt I leave them with protection? Gone back, brought them weapons... Hearing your footsteps descend away, Curtis knew that you were heading towards the wounded. Grasping his beanie, and leaving the warmth and comfort of the momentary home, and slipped it on. Now that it was day, he could see just how far the group had been able to do. They had gone through several cars and hauled out anything decent. Catching a glimpse of you leaning down to check Saras shoulder, you also caught sight of Edgar sitting up, and a box next to him, stuffing something into his mouth. 

“Is that... crackers?” Curtis asked as Edgar held his arm out to grasp and get up. With some effort, Edgar managed to get to a stand, hauling the beat up cracker box with him. “Yea, they found a bit of this kind of stuff a few cars up. Dried goods, flour, sugar, cans.” He held out the box for Curtis to reach his hand into and withdrew a few crackers that he took a bite of. It was stale as fuck, salty, and just about one of the best things he can remember ever having. 

“Yes, I remember passing through right after the water, supplies Im assuming for the rest of the train. There was a few more similar closer to thre front as well” Curtis mentioned, and Edgar nodded over to where a pile of food had been made, along with clothing and blankets. “Im sure the front survivors have already raided some of those others.” Maybe they will be okay until were able to figure out a more permanent solution. “Hows your back?” Curtis turned his attention away from the supplies, and Edgar turned, lifting his shirt enough so Curtis could see. The length of the actual stab looked to be a good three inches long, red all around. Although burned from where the ax blade had laid across it, it was sealed. You came on over just then and ducked around Curtis, getting in for a closer look. 

“Thank God they got it sealed” You breathed out and tugged on Edgars shirt to have him put it back down, when he turned to face you, you drew in close and hugged around his neck. “You punk, I told you to be careful” Curtis cast a downward glance, regret and guilt passing and Edgar shook his head lightly Dont... You never saw the exchange pass between the two men. “Yea well, when I ever bloody listen anyways?” Edgar withdrew and smirked at you, causing you to scowl at him. 

“Well Im back now, so your gonna.” You point a finger at him, and then smooth your hand against his arm in a loving gesture. 

“Are the people able to travel? Or do they still need some recovery time?” Curtis changing the subject from Edgar, his hand rested against your waist, and it felt heavy to you, like he wasnt ready to let you go, that you were actually with him. He must have really believed he wouldnt see me again. 

“If we go slow, Im sure we can. Everyones so exhausted though, another day might not hurt anyone.” You tip your head towards Edgar and he immediately rebutes it although you ignore him. “Sara, shes bad off. Its inflamed and im worried I might not have gotten everything out. It was hard to tell...” You drifted off as Curtis took a glance at the woman you were talking about. Seeing her huddled against the wall, head tipped forward. “She says she can travel, but she will need to stop alot.”

 That confirmed it for Curtis, he shook his head. “Then we stay, one more day.” 

The rest of the time was spent sorting through supplies, packing it in a way it could be carried. Outside fires were kept stroked and burning, using debris off the train, and someone found large hollowed metal bins that with some scrubbing could work to melt snow in. The idea of being able to wash up appealed to you, and once you were sure the others waters needs were met hours later, you worked on warming up a pot for yourself. One of the cars towards the back had side rooms available for actual privacy, and you planned on taking full advantage. 

You didnt need much and using a blanket to handle the hot container, you hauled your bit of hot water through the car to the end, slipping inside. Of course Curtis noticed from where he had been helping to pack up the dried goods in blankets to easier carry them, and he turned to Edgar “Get as much packed as possible, if we have to we will come back for the rest.”  

“Yea, sure... where you going?” He asked as Curtis moved away from the group, calling over his shoulder. 

“Got someone to take care of” Edgar just shrugged and went back to what he was doing. 

You were in the process of undressing, when a soft knock happened on the door. Squeaking in alarm, you say loudly so there was no denying that whomever heard you. “Occupied!” 

“I know, Im coming in.” Curtis said as he opened the door and you withdrew from sight, looking to grab your shirt and cover yourself. 

“Curtis! Im busy” In which he just arched a brow and shut the door behind him, okay lame on your part, not much was kept hidden in the tail end and youve never been super shy before with him. Your fingers played in the shirt, looking down and away from where he stood. It was thankfully darkish in the room, you felt better being somewhat hidden, not wanting that question you know was coming. 

Just seeing you react, he knew. He could see it all over your face that you were dealing with a heavy mix of emotions, but the one he saw the most was shame, and he couldnt for the life of him understand why. How he wanted to go and wrap you in against him, take away all of those memories and protect you better, I should have... fuck why didnt I leave people behind. “Y/N, Baby, I know something happened. Please tell me. You were scared this morning, and youve been avoiding me. I-” he sighed and took a cautionary step closer, and could see the glimmer of tears streaking down your face. “- just got you back. I cant loose you again, especially like this.” His voice lowered, gruffer, you could tell he was trying to keep himself in check. 

Standing there, trying not to let him see you, how you wish you could shrink away into the wall. You tried so hard to fight back and just werent strong enough, spit it out you scolded yourself, but you stayed silent, lifting your face to look at him and dropped your shirt. Curtis took an audible gasp at the bruising that littered your body, your pale skin dark and yellowed with discernible finger and hand prints. Covering your face in your shame. “Oh god, Im sorry Curtis, I tried to stop them.” 

What?!  Oh babygirl, no....He stepped forward and wrapped his hands gently around your wrists and pulled them away. “Babygirl sshhh.... Im not mad at you.” You blinked up at him with that wide eyed stare of yours and then pushed in against him, sobbing into his chest and he lowered the two of you to the floor, careful to keep you in his lap, and rocking you softly. The pain blossomed in his chest at what you were saying, the way your whole body sobbed into his, and he let you. Nothing but the soft swaying motion, like one would do for a child, and his chin rested atop your head as it was buried in against him. There were no words he could say at this moment to make it better, you had to be able to simply cry it out until you were ready to tell him what happened. But even now, he could see the bruises down your back. When I get my hands on them, all those fuckers are going to pay. Oh it wasnt an If, Curtis was all about When. He wouldnt stop till he had his hands on there throats, squeezing the last breath from there lungs.

You finally fell silent in his arms, a occasional body rocking hiccup stirring from you, but that was all you had. His hand came up to your face and gently brushed aside the hair that had gotten stuck to your face from the tears, looking down at you with a soft expression. “sorry” you hiccup out and it seems to be the only thing you can think to say. 

“Babygirl, they are the ones who will be sorry.” he shifted you a bit so you werent so folded up, letting his hand rest against your knee and his thumb sweeping over it gently. “The fact they touched you will make them regret everything they have done in life. Im going to see to it personally.” You gulped a bit listening to him, the promise in his face, the rage simmering in his eyes, it was all there. You were just thankful it wasnt directed at you, cause even now it was scaring you. And in the same breath, it blossomed a warm raging happiness in your chest, spiraling in a way that made you shake slightly. They would hurt to, not just for what they did to you, but you were sure that others suffered a similar fate that day.

He leaned forward and dipped his fingers into the water, finding it still warm. “How about we clean you up Babygirl? and then go get you something to eat. I know you havent had anything today.” You slowly unfold yourself from around him and Curtis takes the rag, dipping it in the water and wringing it out. He holds his hand out for you to take it, but you turn instead your back to him, reaching behind you to gather your hair and lift it off your neck. You trusted him, you knew his touch would be gentle and caring along your bruises, and it was an intimacy you desired to share with him. Dipping your head when you felt the cloth brush over your shoulder, sure enough he was gentle as it went down your back and over your hip, continuing downwards, he squatted down to do the back of her thighs and calves. “Face me Y/N” he said, giving the softest brush of a kiss against a tender looking spot on your hip. You twisted to face him as he rose up to start from your shoulders and down again. 

The riddled marks on your body, now fully seeing what you had been through destroyed a sane part of Curtis, he never wanted to kill anyone more then these men, not even Wilford for all the evilness he had done. There was just a few on your back, careful as he traced over them. You must have fallen from up high, or they took a boot to you. Having you turn for him, he make his way down in a similar fashion. The worst bruises seemed to be on your hips and inside of your thighs, and to see them in such a intimate spot. It was his spot to rest his hands whenever he held you, not anyone elses, and it hurt him that you had to bare such marks. They actually made him growl softly and he was caught by surprise when you cupped his face, running your fingers through his beard. Focus Curtis... He chided himself as he continued with your legs and then swept up the inside of your calves and thighs, this time placing a soft kiss on your belly button and back up to a stand. 

This time when he offered you the rag you took it, to finish up, and you thought about what had transpired. Now Curtis had seen all of what they had done, and getting dressed again, you thought about what he had seen and his reaction. It was foolish for me to think he would be mad at me. Sometimes theres no rational reason for your reactions. He remained silent as he handed you clothing, slipping them on a piece at a time. Grasping your coat, he held it up for you and you backed into it, sliding your arms in one at a time. Before you could start to button it up, he turned you back to face him, doing the buttons himself, smiling softly. “You always have a hard time with these babygirl” 

“I know, you would think after all this time I wouldnt need  your help doing them up.” You chuckled softly at them, all different mismatched sizes, not quite placed right. You could patch a person up, but damned if you could sew decently. 

“Well, let me tell you babygirl, Im glad you still need me to do this.” He finished up the last one, and lifted his hand up to cup your face, cradling it in both hands, his thumbs brushing along the softness of your cheeks, the soft downy hairs brushing under the pad of his thumb. Your hands folded over his wrists while looking up at him. “Y/N, nothing, certainly not this changes anything between us. So whatever you think would drive me away, its not going to happen.” He wouldnt break his eyes from yours, needing you to know just how serious he was. 

“I know... I- I panicked. I felt that what happened, I should have stopped it.” You admitted, and took a deep breath, ragged from earlier, but no tears sprang forth talking about it. Curtis had been correct in you needing that release, a cleanse. Maybe now this was the beginning of coming to terms with it. Keeping his darker thoughts to himself that throbbed in his temples, as you gave a brief description of what happened, this would be a trial and error for you two, Curtis not wanting to push you in a way you werent ready, and you craving the exact same vibe you two had before. It would take time, to heal. Curtis isnt going anywhere.... 

Leading you out of the room, he carried the water, and you followed along behind, your hand fisting in the loose part of his jacket. You lighten considerably he noticed once you joined the group, immediately falling back into old habits of stopping and chatting with groups, looking over those you considered your patients, and falling right back into playing with the kids for the rest of the evening, you even made an effort to eat a can of beans that Curtis pried open for you, sharing with the kids you went to hang out with. There wasnt much difference in how you were as from before, and he gave you your freedom, sticking nearby with Edgar, first finishing there earlier project, then Curtis finished his tale of what had happened. 

“You mean Matt is actually still alive?!” Edgar remembered the boy well, back then. Looked up to him, almost like a brother. Curtis nodded. 

“Yes, and dumbass me left them tied up in the engine. Im sure they have been released now. I tried telling Y/N what hes like... hes dangerous. If he comes around her, I dont know... watch him extra close. She wouldn't forgive me if I hurt him.” A glance over to you showed you laughing while playing itsy bitsy spider with one of the smaller children, cuddling them in your lap while you twisted your fingers to go up the pole, and then sprinkle your fingers down to tickle the youngin’ on the neck. 

“Curtis, maybe it wont come to something like that, Y/N is a pretty good judge of people... Im sure she will see how twisted he is.” 

Curtis shrugged, he hoped so. But this was her brother, she loved this kid more then anyone else on the train, and he almost lost her then. If she gets her heart broken again, forcing her to give a damn might not be so easy. Making her choose between Matt and Himself, he didnt want to put her in that spot, maybe a bit of fear stabbing at the back of his unconscious, would she pick him if she was forced between them?  “We will see probably tomorrow afternoon. I want to get us out of here and back to the front, before they decide they dont need us, and have basically the majority of the supplies once more. Were not equipped enough to survive out there and eventually were going to have to move away from the train for food. Most the cars up there are still upright and can be used for shelter.” 

You looked up to see Curtis and Edgar deep in a discussion, and you untangle yourself from the kids. “Bedtime for all of us. Tomorrow were going to the front.” 

“The front?!”

“For reals this time” 

“wonder what its like?”

“I dont know” You shrug “We just gotta wait and see tomorrow, now off to bed.” You shooed them away to a nest of blankets they made for themselves, and wandered over to Curtis. “Im heading off to sleep, see you all in the morning.” You waved off to the group. Curtis gave you a few minutes to get yourself ready and then excused himself as well. 

When he got there  you were already curled under the blankets, just a soft pile of your hair showing above the blankets. He shredded out of the majority of his clothing and slipped in beside you, thinking you was already asleep, but surprising him as you flipped to her other side, starting at him in the dark. 

“I love you, thank you for coming back for me.” 

“I will always come back for you, I love you to babygirl.” Curtis declared, and you moved over closer and lifted his arm to go around you, your head resting on his shoulder, and your hand slid under his shirt and rubbed your hands across the all familiar soft hairs and broad muscles of his chest, settling over where you could feel that familiar thump of life. This was familiar, comforting, and relaxed into this. The past 36 hours was your hell, and this was your salvation. You actually fell asleep and this time you dreamed, not of what happened, but what was to come. 

The next morning proved to be busy chaos. After taking a few moments to wake up, Curtis was never one to just roll up and go unless necessary, usually proving him to be rougher around the edges, well more so then usual with the upcoming unknown going back to the front now with the tail enders. “Get up, time to get a move on.” he rumbled, the toe of his boot nudging people as he passed through the group, Edgar grumbling and flipping him off as he to got a toe to the leg and a “Get the fuck up, we dont got all day.” 

You rubbed your eyes and snorted in laughter at the grumblings you heard through the crowd, although they complied. You helped hand off sacks of food that they all packed in blankets the day before and you went to your patients, checking them over right quick. The only person you were really concerned for was Sara. If anything she looked paler then the day before. But her wound was  still firey red. Biting the inside of your cheek, you smiled, and helped her up. “Dont hesitate to ask for help, I wont be far off” You stress to her till Sara gives a nod and Johanna wraps an arm around her. “Dont worry, we got her.” 

Maybe it will all be okay. 

The group filed out, Curtis again taking up the rear, watching for any sign of the aggressors from the day before, he had skimmed over the cliff edge, and checked out the path back up, but found no signs. Maybe the fuckers are gone.... He wistfully considered, as he trudged along behind, holding a rifle over his shoulder and in his hands a heavy axe was kept close. In any hand to hand fight, he would rather have the axe on hand instead of the rifle. You made your way back through the crowd and fell in step with him, looking over your shoulder, it seemed like the train was an endless line of cars. You all must be getting close.

“Theres so many to sort through still.” Talking about the cars, Curtis grunted in agreement, glancing down at you. “Well I wouldnt bother with any holding people, all the stuff we need is in those storage ones. Im just hoping the front end had the sense to get into the livestock cars and save anything that survived.” You blinked a bit in surprise, you never actually thought there would be any kind of livestock on the train, the front end having stopped giving the boiled eggs a few years ago. 

“Like... chickens and such?”

“Chickens, pigs, some beef cows, couple of those your supposed to milk and all. Yes, had them all. Plus at least 2 cars filled with frozen butchered meat, a large green house cart. The front end didnt have our struggles, that is for damn sure.” 

Fuck when was the last time you had a roasted chicken? Steak? Your mouth literally watered at the idea of it. 

“No they certainly didnt.”

A few moments of silence between them, the occasional brush of shoulders as Curtis shortened his stride matching your, the change in it made you hide a smile, looking down. You were sure he didnt intend on you to notice and it just resolved in you what you already knew about him. He would always look out for you. Your shared silence was interrupted by a shout as the group started to bunch up and come to a halt. “Curtis Everett to the front, I know your leading this mess.”

 Curtis then picked up his pace, you following behind him closely as he weaved through the people milling into a group and coming out in the front. You were about to follow alongside him but Edgar caught the back of your coat, keeping you back slightly and thats when you saw what was before you. 

Heavily armed group of people, waiting and they parted as a man and Claude came through. The smirk on the mans face shined right into his eyes, so fucking cold, and you felt your heart sink in your stomach. It really was Matt, just as Curtis described it. 

“Well we knew you would come back Curtis.” His arms folded over his chest, as he surveyed the people behind Curtis. “And brought your little rag tag mess of people.” Matt turned his attention to those that started to line up around Curtis, assessing the threat before them. “You might as well just join us everyone, there really is no better answer. You may have the numbers, but we have the supplies, and that includes the rifles.” Matt looked up and down his line of people, smug, satisfied, he won. “So you might as well give up, well before this has to turn ugly Curtis, I mean... We are in this mess cause of you after all.” Claude hung on Matts arm, but he pulled it away and took a step forward till he was standing before Curtis, who glared down at him. “So what do you say tail ender? I clearly won.” 

“Matt!” You yanked your arm from Edgar and snapped up right in his face, inches away, anger rolling off you in steams. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Curtis arm shot out and grabbed you by the arm, pulling you back to him, not trusting Matt to not hurt you physically. You pulled on your arm, but Curtis grasp was iron and unrelenting. “You are our family, how DARE you even speak like that, after all we been through to get up here.” 

“Yea Sister” He said with such venom in his tone, your mouth snapped shut, jaw clenching in your anger and confusion. “All we been through, you had if just fine in the tail end, but not good enough, sending your man up here to wreck it all, correct?” 

That was the last line when Curtis fist connected with Matts face, his head snapping back sharply. 

Curtis could tolerate alot of things, your brother disrespecting you clearly wasnt one of them. 

Fuck it all.  

@curtisbbq​ @what-is-your-plan-today​ @jtargaryen18​ @p8tn0lish​ @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123​ @official-and-unstable-satan​ @thatweirdwalangpake​

[lopithecusfanfiction]

Blinded in Chains: Chapter One

Author: Lopithecus Pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3377 Alternate: AO3 Summary: "There is no despair so absolute as that which comes with the first moments of our first great sorrow, when we have not yet known what it is to have suffered and be healed, to have despaired and have recovered hope." - George Eliot

The118 are called to a factory fire. It all seems pretty routine until Eddie is told by one of the employees that they have canisters of highly explosive materials on site. With no time to get out, Eddie, a few other 118 crew members, and the employees are caught in an explosion with catastrophic consequences which change Eddie's life forever. Luckily, he has Buck there to help him through it.

Warnings: 

Angst

Hurt/Comfort

Injury

Major Character Injury

Burns

Blindness

Blindness Caused by Injury

Blind!Eddie Diaz

Survivor’s Guilt

Depression

Eddie Whump

Hurt Eddie Diaz

Worried Buck

Caring Buck

Injury Recovery

Recovery

Buck takes care of Eddie

Getting together

Eventual Smut

Smut

Slow Burn

Other Additional Warnings to Be Added

Author's Note: Title from the band Avenged Sevenfold. It was either this title or “Blinded by the Light” but I thought the latter sounded too upbeat for this angst fest. Though I know it's not going to be everyone's cup of tea, I'm honestly really excited about this fic! Please enjoy! Tag List: (I’m going to tag the people that liked the preview I posted the other day because I’m assuming y’all are interested in it. If you don’t want me to tag you, please let me know! Also, if you want to be tagged in future updates, feel free to let me know and I’ll add you.) @justsmilestuffhappens @tkandbuck @poppy3019 @mysepticheartfan1 @idealuk @irrationalyperfect @claire-nyc

They are called out to a routine factory fire sometime in the afternoon. It’s nothing they haven’t dealt with in the past before. In fact, fires at factories are actually quite normal. Fires either start because of negligence from an employee or, and much more common, from faulty equipment due to the owner cutting corners. So, it’s not surprising when they are called out to one once again. It’s also not shocking to see the fire blazing out of control when they arrive. These factories do tend to go up fast and spread quickly.

Once the situation is assessed, Bobby rounds up the team to give orders. Dispatch had said there were some people trapped inside; five on the West side of the building and another seven on the East side. With how much the building is already engulfed in flames, everyone knows they are going to have to work fast to get those people out. That’s why when Bobby announces their duties, he separates him and Buck. Bobby needs his best firefighters leading the way.

“Buck,” Bobby addresses. “I want you to take point on the West side. Eddie, take the East. Gather a team of three or four.” He then adds more firmly, “No unnecessary risks. If it gets too dangerous, leave immediately. Now go. Be thorough but quick.” It’s the closing line that Bobby always gives them before they, or any of the other 118 members, enter a burning building.

Eddie and Buck exchange quick glances at one another, nodding curtly, before running off to gather their team. Eddie gives a brief rundown of the plan to the four other crew members he picks and then leads the way into the building. He and Buck start at the same entrance but soon separate in order to go in the direction of their intended targets. Unfortunately for them, the door is farther from the East side of the building than it is the West which means Eddie’s team has farther to travel. They carefully pick their way through the fire and debris of the building, putting out as best they can any fire that blocks their way. Soon enough, they reach the door that dispatch had told them the people were hold up in.

Eddie yells out, hoping he can be heard over the fire. “LAFD!” He tries the doorknob and it turns easily in his grasp. Pushing the door open, he sees five people huddled in a corner, all of them holding one another, and two unconscious people lying close by them. He gestures towards the people for his team to gather and then approaches one of the employees that are unconscious, checking their pulse. “Alive!” he yells and then checks the other person. “This one too! Okay, people, let’s get them out.”

Two of the crew members pick up the unconscious people each, throwing them over their shoulders. Eddie briefly registers Buck’s voice over the walkie. “Cap, we’re on our way out. Five people in need of medical attention. All conscious and alert.”

Eddie starts picking his way out of the room, conscious of the men and women following behind him as he reaches for his own walkie. He’s about to report their own situation when he notices the way they came is blocked. “Cap, we’ve got five people who are conscious and alert, two unconscious. All in need of medical attention. Our way has been blocked and will need to find a different way out.”

“Copy that, Diaz,” Bobby’s voice sounds from the walkie. “Keep me updated.”

Eddie turns to one of the employees. “Is there another exit around here?”

A woman, probably in her early thirties, shakes her head. “There’s another one in this wing of the building but on the other side.” She looks like she’s about to panic.

“Okay, everybody, stay calm. We’re going to get you out of here,” Eddie reassures before turning back around and making his way in the direction the woman had told him. They go until their way is blocked again and Eddie has to change directions once more to try and make it past the fallen debris. Slipping carefully through a doorway with its door missing, he enters a room that has minimal fire in it but heavy with smoke that makes it hard to see.

“We can’t be in this room!” one of the employees announces with alarm.

Eddie turns to him. “Why?”

All the employees’ eyes are wide with fear as the man answers him. “We have canister mixtures of chlorate and magnesium chloride in here.”

Eddie’s heart almost stops in horror. “Why do you have that here? Dispatch didn’t disclose this.”

“The company wanted to expand their horizons but are cutting corners to do so,” the same woman who had told him about the door states.

“We need to get out of here now!” Eddie says urgently, ushering the crew and employees back the way they came. They are already pretty far into the room and fire is quickly spreading around them. They don’t have much time.

Grabbing his walkie, Eddie practically yells into it. “Cap, we have chlorate and magnesium chloride mixtures in the building!” He looks behind himself, trying to gauge if any of the fire is by the canisters but the smoke is too thick to see through. “I repeat, there are-”

He sees the light from the explosion first before the impact of the blast. Then he feels it as it pushes him back into one of the employees, shoving them against a wall. His head hits hard and he doesn’t know what happens after that. Everything turns dark, blackness surrounding him.

*~~~*

When he wakes, all he can hear is an incessant ringing in his ears. But that is nothing compared to the physical pain coursing through his body. It feels like his body is on fire, maybe it is, but Eddie can’t open his eyes because they hurt too. He opens his mouth, doesn’t know if he screams out because he can’t hear , but he can’t breathe either. Oh God, it hurts to breathe .

A hand, or what he assumes to be a hand, lands on his shoulder and he tries to get away from it. It causes an intense stinging sensation to go from his shoulder down into his aching hand. He screams again, or at least he thinks he does, and there are more hands and he wants them to stop touching him. Please stop touching him!

“Dee!” Eddie tries to breathe, focus on the voice that just barely reaches his ears. They’re still ringing loudly, annoyingly, and when he tries to reach up to his ears, he realizes he can’t move his arms. “Eddie!”

“Buck?” Eddie mouths, once again not sure if he’s actually said anything. “Buck?” he thinks he must sound frantic but he doesn’t care because everything is on fire . 

“It’s going to be okay!” Buck’s voice, barely reaching him.

“Buck!” Eddie cries and if he could open his eyes he’s sure tears would be spilling from them.

“I’ve got you, Eddie.” A hand runs through his hair. Does he still have hair? “Chimney and I are going to get you out of here.”

He doesn’t end up knowing how they get him out. He passes out just after Buck stops talking. Or maybe he doesn’t stop talking, Eddie doesn’t know, the ringing is still there. He welcomes sleep, though, if only to get away from the searing pain.

*~~~*

The scene is horrific when Buck, Chimney, and a few other 118 firefighters wheel Eddie away to an ambulance. When Buck had heard that the factory had chlorate and magnesium chloride mixtures in the building, he felt his heart drop into his stomach. He had prayed that Eddie and the rest of the team would make it out in time.

They didn’t.

The explosion wasn’t actually that big, it not even taking out half the building, so Buck assumes there weren’t a lot of the canisters in there. It was, however, destructive to the surrounding rooms, the initial blast taking down a supporting wall, which then caused part of the building to collapse. Eddie is extremely lucky it didn’t fall on top of him. Some of the employees and one of the crew members of the 188, weren’t so lucky.

He leaves other crew members to dig through the rubble as he runs along with the stretcher that Eddie has been placed on. Chimney is keeping pace, trying to keep Eddie alive who has just passed out, holding a saline bag high above his head. Buck’s eyes start to sting as he watches the proceedings and tries to blink away the tears that are threatening to fall.

Sniffling, he looks Eddie over. The older man’s helmet had come off at some point. Buck assumes it was from the blast of the explosion. His face also looks pretty badly burned, especially around his eyes, and his turnout gear is… well, it’s completely destroyed. Buck’s mind keeps supplying him with the realization that Eddie is extremely lucky to still be alive and that it could turn around at any moment.

As if on cue, Chimney states, “His BP is dropping! Starting compressions!” Chimney hops onto the stretcher, straddling Eddie’s body, and begins compressions. 

Buck’s vision blurs as tears pool in them and he doesn’t even bother trying to rid them this time. They make it to the ambulance quickly and Buck has no choice but to let go of the stretcher to let the others load Eddie into the vehicle. His heart is beating frantically in his chest and tears are streaming incessantly down his cheeks.

“Buck!” Buck turns to Bobby, not bothering to hide the fact that he’s crying.

“I’m not leaving him!” Buck says immediately.

“I’m not asking you to,” Bobby reassures. “Just… keep me updated.”

Buck nods briefly before climbing into the ambulance. Chimney is sat beside him, having stopped the chest compressions, but according to the heart monitor Buck can see that he is stable again. Once Buck is settled, Chimney raps on the wall of the ambulance, letting the driver know they’re ready to go. The sirens immediately start blaring and before Buck knows it, they are rushing to the nearest hospital.

“Chim, what’s his status?” Buck dares to ask.

Chimney glances up at him before refocusing on Eddie. “It’s not looking good, Buck.”

Buck shuts up then, afraid to ask any more questions. He doesn’t want to hear the answers. Instead, he watches Chimney work as he tries to clean the burns as best he can. Buck is worried about Eddie’s face the most. It looks like it took the brunt of the flames from the explosion. If Eddie survives, he’s going to definitely have some scaring.

Eddie codes again halfway to the hospital. Buck does the compressions this time, jumping in immediately. It gives Chimney the opportunity to try to stabilize Eddie once more, pumping him with medications. As Buck presses hard on Eddie’s chest, tears from his eyes fall onto Eddie’s face. Buck can’t look away from it. Won’t look away from it. What if it’s the last time he sees it?

“Buck,” Chimney gets his attention. “He’s back, you can stop.”

Sniffling and wiping at his eyes with the back of his gloved hand, he sits back heavily. Chimney is eyeing him but doesn’t say anything. Buck is grateful for that. He doesn’t want to talk, doesn’t want to think, doesn’t want to move . He just wants to stare and watch Eddie, praying he’ll be okay.

They eventually make it to the hospital and quickly wheel Eddie out of the ambulance. No one argues with him when he follows the gurney inside and Chimney even comes with him. When he has to finally part from Eddie, the nurses rushing to wheel him into the back, that’s when he finally breaks completely.

His knees give out and he falls back into a chair that Chimney had, unbeknownst to Buck, guided Buck towards. A ragged sob escapes from his throat and out his mouth, tears streaming down his cheeks. Chimney sits down next to him, places a hand on his back, and allows him to cry. He cries so hard that he starts to hiccup and Chimney’s hand begins a path along his back, up and down and in circles. Buck hunches over and buries his face in his hands, trying to get his self-control back. He’s making a scene, he knows he is, and he needs to calm down, but it’s expected to bawl this hard in a hospital, right?

Eventually, he does stop, exhaustion taking over his entire body. He sags in the chair with the trash can situated between his legs. Chimney had handed him it with a box of tissues at some point and Buck had gratefully taken them. Now he feels tired and grief-stricken. They have no idea what is happening to Eddie, how he is, if he’s even still alive. All Buck needs to know is if Eddie is going to live.

“Hey,” Hen’s voice sounds quietly from Chimney’s side. Buck doesn’t know how long she’s been there. It looks like it’s been a little while. “How are you doing, Buckaroo? Do you want me to get you some water?”

He shakes his head. He is feeling pretty thirsty now but that’s not his top priority. Hen had been working on another member of the team when they had wheeled Eddie away. “How’s Garret?”

Hen’s face falls and Buck is suddenly afraid of the answer. She shakes her head in the negative, not bothering to voice what Buck already knows. “Briggs didn’t make it either nor did Sinclair. Hammond has just been brought in. He’s in pretty critical condition like Eddie.”

“The employees?” he asks quietly, almost inaudible.

Hen’s frown deepens and she shakes her head again. “None of them made it.”

Buck’s eyes fill with tears again and he reaches up to wipe them away stubbornly. “Where’s Bobby?”

“Talking to the Chief and then he has to make a statement.”

“They want him to make a statement now?” Buck asks, feeling sick to his stomach. “Three of his men just died and two of them still might and they want him…” Buck stops, choking on his anger. He bites his bottom lip to stop himself from ranting. No one comments on Buck’s outrage and instead sit back in their chairs to await news on both Eddie and Hammond.

An hour and a half later, with no word on Eddie yet, Bobby arrives. “How is he?”

Buck doesn’t bother looking up from his hands that he’s been staring at for the last twenty minutes. Bobby sits down in a chair across from him as Hen answers his question. “We haven’t’ heard anything yet.”

“I just checked on Hammond before coming this way,” Bobby says.

“And?” Chimney asks, sitting up straighter.

“They’re still working on him.” Buck glances up and has to look away from Bobby’s defeated face. “They’re not sure if he’s going to make it. It’s not looking good.”

“Did you call his wife?” Buck asks, speaking quietly. He stares at the floor, feeling helpless.

Bobby sighs and sits further back in his chair. “I did. She’s trying to get out of work early and seeing if the babysitter can watch their daughter for a little longer before a family member can pick her up.”

“What about the others’ families?”

Another sigh escapes Bobby’s lips. “I’ve called Briggs’ husband and informed him of what happened. He was understandably upset.”

“They were thinking about adopting a baby,” Hen announces. “Briggs had asked for my advice just the other day, wanting an LGBTQA friendly place and to know what organization Karen and I went through.” Buck’s heart breaks into a million pieces at that news, a new wave of grief passing through him.

“The Chief called Garret’s wife and Sinclair’s fiance. He wanted me to start the press conference instead,” Bobby continues.

“How’d that go?” Chimney questions.

Bobby hesitates and he has to clear his voice, as if it’s difficult to speak. “Bad.” He leaves it at that, not elaborating. Buck is fine with that. He doesn’t want to know more.

“What am I going to tell Christopher?” All eyes turn to him and he wonders if he hadn’t said it loud enough. He is practically whispering. “If Eddie doesn’t make it, how am I supposed to tell Christopher?”

“That’s my job, Buck,” Bobby says. “You don’t have to do that.”

“No!” Buck looks up, tears rolling down his eyes again. “No, Bobby if it’s Christopher, it has to be me. It has to come from me.”

No one else protests that, all seeming to understand what he’s trying to get at. Hen stretches over across Chimney’s lap and places a hand on his thigh. “Let’s cross that bridge if and when we get there, okay? For now, let’s just hope that both Eddie and Hammond make it.”

Buck bites his bottom lip to stop a whimper from escaping. He’s terrified that Eddie is going to die, that he and Christopher are going to lose him. But also, if he does survive, at what cost is it at? He looked like he had been badly burned and when they had wheeled him away, the nurses had seemed particularly concerned about the burns around Eddie’s eyes.

“I’ve called his grandmother and Carla already. Isabel is on her way and Carla said she can watch Christopher for the night,” Bobby informs him.

“What did she tell him?” Buck asks, worried for the child.

Bobby takes a breath. “She just told him that there was an accident at his Dad’s work and that he is in the hospital, for now, being taken care of.”

Buck frowns. “He must be so scared.”

“Carla will take good care of him,” Hen reassures. Buck nods in agreement and then goes back to staring at the floor. No one else talks after that.

Another hour goes by with no word on either Eddie or Hammond. Eddie’s Abuela is now sitting next to Buck, Chimney having moved to give her the seat, and gone to sit on Hen’s other side. Athena and May come walking into the waiting room, each holding trays with coffee on them. They divvy them up, everyone getting a cup. Buck takes the coffee offered to him and then sets it down on the floor. He doesn’t feel like drinking anything.

Athena goes to sit next to Bobby and May sits next to her. “Any news?” Athena asks.

Bobby shakes his head. “None. Not on either of them.”

She rubs a hand up and down Bobby’s thigh. “Let me see if I can get anything out of one of the nurses.” She stands and leaves, trying to find an available nurse.

May looks around the group, eyes landing on Buck. “How’d it happen?”

Buck’s eyes narrow in anger and he can’t help but snap at her. “That’s what you care about right now? Really?”

“Buck!” Bobby warns.

Buck turns away, tears burning his eyes. When Isabel tries to reach over to grab his hand, he pulls away and stands up, storming away. He makes it all the way outside before he’s collapsing against the brick wall, pulling his legs close to his chest. He shucks off his turnout coat and lays it down beside him before resting his chin on his knees. He’s crying again with all these different scenarios flying through his brain.

Eddie might die.

Eddie might die.

Eddie might die.

Buck doesn’t think he can handle that.

“Buck?” Buck turns his head to look at who said his name. May is standing there, watching him. She approaches cautiously. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that right now. It wasn’t the right time.”

Buck wipes at his eyes with his arm, ridding his face of most of the tears. “I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

She comes closer until eventually, she can sit down next to him. She links their arms together and leans her cheek onto his shoulder. “I’m sorry this is happening,” she mumbles.

She’s going to make him cry again but he can’t bring himself to care anymore. “Me too.”

———————————————————————————————————–

A/N: This is probably not accurate in the slightest but I just spent an hour looking for a chemical to explode so… just take everything with a grain of salt, including Eddie’s injuries. I tried looking things up about burns as well and got confused so… yeah, the tiniest grain.

Thank you for reading!! ❤❤

[teamhook]

Two Chapters Today... Savage Heart CS AU

A love story between a pirate and his savior. An innocent, beautiful, selfless woman meets a man with no manners, no formal education and not even a last name. Will Emma fall in love with Killian once she discovers that beneath his tough exterior lies a heart-wild, but a heart of gold? This is a Captain Swan AU

Beta-ed by the awesome @ilovemesomekillianjones

|AO3| |FFN| previous chapter

|AO3| |FFN| current chapter

Chapter 17: Revelations

David is thoroughly enjoying having Archie around. His presence provides a familiarity he's missed. He would have preferred a visit from one of his favorite girls but soon he will be home with them. That thought alone is the reason he doesn't let the guilt of Snow's declining health and the heartbreak his beautiful daughter must have felt at the ending of her betrothal kill him.

He will ask Archie about Emma once they get back to his little house. Today, they have gone to the office to ensure all the papers needed for Kristoff's power of attorney are signed. He will also introduce Archie to the rest of his adoptive family.

A couple of hours later Archie and David find themselves in front of a beautiful two-story, brownstone house. There are a few oak trees not far from the front door. The houses in Arendelle are built closely together and all look like replicas of each other because of the speed in which the town keeps growing.

David is about to knock on the door when a beautiful blonde woman opens the door with a smile on her face.

Archie blinks a few times because the woman is so beautiful and he knows he will be unable to put a sentence together once their eyes meet. He cannot help smile as he sees the fondness in which she greets David with and while they talk to each other with smiles on their faces, she suddenly turns to acknowledge his presence and with a similar warm smile says, "Hello," and waves them in.

Archie knows that not all love stories share the same beginning. Some are love at first sight, others start with a simple friendship and there are the rare ones that blossom from a little dislike of the other person and turn out to be some of the greatest love stories ever told.

He listens carefully, trying not to miss a thing; he has heard that story many times before from his friend. He is happy to finally be able to put a face to the tale of his friend finding a friend in his time of need. He could definitely listen to her retell that story over and over and never tire.

Soon Elsa and Anna arrive, and it is a big family reunion. They talk about all of the exploits of the two young girls and both of them blush.

David is hit with an old favorite. The longing he feels for his family. He smiles as the conversation continues and nod in response only when needed; he soon will be reunited.

Liam finds his way to the little get together at Ingrid's house later that evening.

"I know your brother," Archie shares with Liam conspiratorially.

"Oh, that is good. How is he?" Liam looks to the older man.

"Killian is a survivor. Your brother has had a hard life."

"I can only imagine the life he has had to endure. I hope you know that had I known of his existence, I would have gone looking for him. I would have never left him behind."

"I believe you, and I think Killian knows that your words you speak are true."

"Tell me, did he marry the woman he was so adamant about returning to?"

"He told you he wanted to get married?"

"I helped him so he wouldn't be apart from his love longer than he had to. I would hate to be apart from Elsa," Liam says as he glances to his love.

"I'm afraid not. He will soon be marrying. Sadly, I don't think we could make it back in time to make the wedding. He will marry Emma within days."

"Who is marrying Emma?" David looks at Archie expectantly waiting for an answer.

"David, I have been meaning to break the news since I arrived."

"Why haven't you? I ask again, who is marrying my daughter?"

Liam interrupts, "My long lost brother and the man marrying your daughter are the same man, Killian Jones."

"Your brother is the same man?"

Ingrid, Elsa, Anna, and Kristoff are looking between the three men in a heated conversation.

"David is everything okay?" Ingrid is the first to speak.

"Liam, what is going on?"

In a surprisingly out of character twist Anna and Kristoff are abnormally silent.

David answers first. "Archie has just informed me that my daughter will be marrying a Killian Jones within days. A detail he failed to mention when he first arrived and talked this Jones character up for a business merger."

"This Jones character is my younger brother," Liam adds a bit insulted at David's reaction and smiles at Elsa.

"Wait, is he the same man that was arrested all those months back? He is the man that was going to steal from me? The name sounded so familiar." David's anger is visible.

"David, I explained the reason he was released. It was a mistake. He had no idea what his men were up to. They confessed and indicated he had no knowledge of their plans." A little fact that no one in the group knows, Liam made arrangements with the crew to confirm his version of the events. The only goal was to protect his brother, and thanks to the loyalty the crew holds to Killian, he can.

"Oh, so it has nothing to do with the fact that he is your brother, as I just found out."

"I didn't mention it before because of your obvious reaction. I found out about the familial relationship around that time."

"Killian mentioned this to me too. He said it was a mistake. I believe he is telling you the truth." Archie interrupts.

"David, I know I should have mentioned this as soon as I got off that ship but I got distracted." He says while stealing a glance at Ingrid.

"I just feel like I keep missing out on my daughter's milestones."

"Once we return you will be there and never leave her again."

Elsa goes to reach for Liam's arm. "Hey, are you planning to make the trip back with them? That way you see your brother and meet his new bride."

"I don't know, David is upset and besides I would prefer if you went along on such a trip." He squeezes her arm reassuringly.

"So does that mean I will be seeing you soon on the Misthaven shores? I'm just happy everything is set and we can leave tomorrow." David smiles faintly as he looks at Liam and lastly confirms the plans with Archie with a slight nod.

Cora is ecstatic about the impending wedding between Emma and Killian. She has spent a good amount of money ensuring the union comes together. She sees it as an investment to get Captain Jones away from her son and his inheritance. A small price to pay but it is definitely worth it.

She had fired all the older workers when Jones had started working at the Estate in hopes to keep the secret in the dark. Just one last thing, erasing the existence of the letter Brennan wrote - all she needs to do is find it. Where could that damn letter be? It should be somewhere in this damn house.

Lost in her thoughts; she is wrecking her once organized bedroom in search for that wretched letter once again, that is the only thing that could stop the demise that surely would come. Then there is a light knock on her door, "Madam, there is a man here to see you."

Cora goes to open the door. "Enith, I recall telling you that I did not want to be bothered."

Enith had told the man as much but he had insisted, and now she was getting on her boss's bad side and no one should ever be there. "The man said it was very important and that he would not leave until he could speak with you. He said it was either you or Mr. Jones."

That comment caught Cora's attention. "Did he at least say who to announce?"

"He said to tell you that he is a Good Samaritan, once, a long time ago."

"Oh, is that all he said?" The only Good Samaritan Cora could think of was the one that found Brennan after his accident. This could mean trouble. She barely contains one threat.

She finally makes it to the office. It is a good thing she saw Emma taking a walk with Jones earlier.

"I hope you are not here in hopes of a reward for helping my dead husband home years ago."

"Please, allow me to introduce myself before you start berating me. Malcolm Peters." He offers her his hand, which she rebuffs. She notices a pair of bags next to him but doesn't waste her time in acknowledging them.

"Get to the point. What do you want after all these years?" She sits up regally in the chair.

"Well, after that mournful day I enjoyed success in a town not that far from here. Sadly, even with great success, a sudden bad luck streak can shatter even the most successful person." He is looking at the contents of the office, the wealth displayed is obvious.

"Please, explain, what does that have to do with me?"

"The explanation is actually very simple when I found your husband's body. I tried to assess his injuries before moving him and found a very interesting letter, do I need to continue?"

"What do you want?"

"I want a mere reward for keeping quiet. After all, it is a very interesting tale. Perhaps your steward would like to hear it? Isn't his name Killian Jones, or should I say, Booth?"

Cora turns pale; she thought maybe he was bluffing. "All you want is money?"

"I also want housing and a job." Malcolm smiles at her.

"I doubt you want to be a mere worker, but since the steward position is taken that is all I can offer."

"I'm sure you can think of something and you will if you want that bit of knowledge to stay hidden."

"Where should I put my bags?"

"I will have Enith fix you a room. At least my son isn't here and I will not need to come up with any explanation."

She gets up and leaves the room. She soon finds Enith and requests the room for Mr. Peters.

It doesn't take long for Milah to convince August that they need to head back to Misthaven. "I thought you would be happy with the pairing?" August smiles tightly at the comment. In reality, he honestly thought it would never happen; Emma was bound to the convent and Killian was a notorious womanizer. "I suppose you are correct, I just didn't think it was truly a possibility."

He supposes it is his fault, he did put them in the situation together. It bothers him and that is confusing.

"My aunt surely sounds distressed over the news." She lifts the message and rereads it for the millionth time. "Do you think we will make it in time?"

"I honestly don't know, the trip is long, I specifically chose this route because I wanted to take a long trip with my lovely bride. Now I'm afraid it may be counterproductive." They had rushed to pack their belongings and now finally found themselves back on the road.

Milah cannot believe that Killian would do this to her; betray her in the most heinous way possible, he knows of her distaste for her pampered, insipid cousin. How could he do this or even think about it? What of their plans?

She hopes they make it in time; she will not lose Killian to Emma.

Emma and Killian are enjoying a walk, heading towards her favorite spot, the flower bed. He has been so quiet lately.

"Love, what do you expect of our marriage?" He scratches the back of his ear.

"I don't know, I haven't really thought of it. I, uh-" She gets flustered." I suppose, I just want us to be friends."

"Friends, love? I think there will be some more intimate situations between us, which friends don't share." He raises his eyebrow and smiles.

"Oh, I know that, but I just don't want us to lose the friendship we have been able to build in such a short time."

They stop walking once they have reached their destination. He takes his coat off and arranges it on the ground and reaches for her hand to help her down. They lay on top of the coat and are surrounded by beautiful fragrant flowers.

He turns to her and cups her face gently as he slowly leans in to kiss her. Soon the kiss escalates as he finds himself on top of her slightly pushing her legs apart with a nudge from his knee. He can hear her breathing speed up to match his and it only fuels his need for more.

Suddenly, he feels her hands push him off and she is on her feet and running back to the house.

He lays on his coat and covers his face with his forearm. That was unexpected. He likes kissing Emma a little too much for his taste.

Emma is about to walk into her room and then she hears her mother's soft voice. "Emma, are you okay? You look flushed." Her mother is looking at her with such concern.

"Yes, I think the heat got to me." She doesn't want to tell her mother exactly which heat she is talking about.

"Oh, I could ask Enith to bring you some water to cool off?" Snow smiles at her.

"No, it's fine. I feel better now."

"Sweetheart, I am your mother and no one else knows you better."

"It is nothing." She avoids her mother's knowing eyes.

"I had asked for you but I was told you went on a walk with Mr. Jones. I was hoping to meet him."

"You want to meet him?"

"Well, you seem adamant in marrying him and he is going to be my son-in-law."

"Oh, I can arrange a meeting. I could go fetch him if you'd like." Emma's mind goes back to the kiss.

"Emma, you are blushing again. What is it?"

She takes a breath before answering. "Well, we kissed."

"Oh, then I do need to meet this man. No more kisses Emma. You know very well that it is not very appropriate behavior to be alone with him and now you tell me it has been more than that." Snow smiles and shakes her head in disbelief, her daughter has always been so proper and now she acts so differently. She doesn't know if it is to be applauded or feared.

"It was just a kiss mother."

"Yet you turn beet red every time you think of it."

"Emma, I'm willing to meet him. I would have preferred for your wedding to take place after your father's return but since I hear things are moving extremely fast; I will at least meet him." Maybe she can reason with Killian Jones and convince him that a long engagement would be better.

Emma and her mother are soon on their way to the living area and find themselves sitting while they wait for Killian to make his presence known.

Killian walks inside; the ring burning a hole in his pocket. He wanted to give her the ring at the flower bed she enjoys so much, but he had ruined the moment.

Emma stands up and clears her throat. He stops mid-walk and approaches them.

"Killian Jones, please allow me to introduce to you my mother, Snow Nolan."

He bows slightly. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lady." He takes her hand and kisses it.

"Thank you. I will get to the point. I think you two are rushing into marriage. I think it would be better to wait for my husband's return to proceed."

"Mother, I thought you said you would be open to the marriage." She notices her mother studying Killian as if he were familiar to her.

"No, I said I was willing to meet him and I have. One more thing, Mr. Jones I hope you know that there will be no more kisses. No more walks without a chaperone. Nothing as such until the wed-"

Emma stops her from continuing. "Mother, you never put those restrictions on Milah and August. You will not put them on us."

"Emma! I'm only doing this on your behalf, for your protection."

"No, I will no longer be treated like a child. Please, be honest, if I wanted to marry any other man you wouldn't be so eager to enforce proper protocol."

Snow glances at Killian once more and that is the moment she realizes who he reminds her of, Brennan Booth.

"If Emma wants to wait, I will not oppose."

"Good, it shouldn't be long. I have sent a message to Milah as well."

"You did what?" Emma closes her eyes. "Killian, I thank you for offering to wait but we will proceed as planned. Mother, I will not be waiting for my father to arrive. It was his decision to leave the family after all. No one asked him to abandon us in the pursuit of money. Milah shouldn't have been bothered. Oh, but your intention was another wasn't it. You were trying to thwart the wedding. I will only say this, mother, I love you but you will not be changing my mind or delaying anything. In a few days, I will be Killian's wife." She reaches out for his hand and his automatic response is to entwine their fingers together.

Emma can only think that Milah knows of the wedding and she soon will have to face her. She looks at Killian for a reaction at the mention of Milah. The thought that he would change his mind upon Milah's return scares her.

Killian is reminded of the reason for his presence at the Booth's Estate and who truly holds Emma's heart.

Snow is standing there shocked at her daughter's attitude. She stands up with as much dignity as she can muster and leaves.

"Emma love, are you okay?"

"Sorry, I thought that she was coming along. Why did you say that, that you would wait to get married?"

"I thought it was the right thing to say."

She tilts her head and smiles. She had noticed a change in his demeanor at the mention of her cousin's name.

"Since you are so eager to be my wife, how about we do this properly?" He drops to his knee and holds out the ring. "Emma Nolan, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

Emma gasps and she shakily puts out her hand so he can place the ring. "Yes, I will marry you." She laughs as he puts the ring on her finger. "You do remember that I asked first?"

@hookedonapirate @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @seriouslyhooked @profdanglaisstuff @let-it-raines @revanmeetra87 @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @kymbersmith-90 @branlovestowrite @thejollyroger-writer @shireness-says @ilovemesomekillianjones  @thisonesatellite @thesschesthair @winterbythesea @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke  @superchocovian  @lfh1226-linda @artistic-writer @thislassishooked @shardminds @winterbaby89 @xhookswenchx @ultraluckycatnd @gingerchangeling @laschatzi @wellhellotragic @xemmaloveskillianx @courtorderedcake @pirateherokillian @optomisticgirl @darkcolinodonorgasm @sherlockianwhovian @andiirivera @djlbg @nikkiemms @jennjenn615 @scientificapricot @officerrogers​ @imlaxdris71​ @therealstartraveller776​

[shadestriders]

What motivated Rae's decision to volunteer to be raised? Was it a difficult choice to make? How do you think other people, including those close to her, view her decision? How does she feel about the decision now?

Unsolicited Asks // Always open

So, there’s a lot that went into her decision, most of which she didn’t actually give herself time to think about, so she kind of didn’t allow it to become difficult. Around the time Legion hits, she has limited friends - most are a part of the Forsaken, themselves. She, actually, was one of the first to sign up, though she didn’t make a big show of it or anything, but she almost wanted the Forsaken to know she didn’t hate them for their condition, nor did she pity them. In a way, she was trying to prove that undeath didn’t matter to her, and a sort of kinship to Sylvanas’s people. That, of course, royally backfired on her.

She also really has no one to come home to, no one that would miss her passing, and in the back of her mind, that scares her in a twisted way. She doesn’t want to die alone. And she believes that her family won’t be waiting for her, as she has... done a little bit of snooping around Sylvanas and is a great read of character. She doesn’t know about what happened to Syl in Icecrown, but she knows that the Banshee Queen doesn’t believe there is a pleasant end waiting for the undead... and Raern knows her mother was raised as a Scourge banshee. She doesn’t know how her father died or if he was raised.

Beyond that, Raern has suffered from MASSIVE survivor’s guilt following the Third War. She was a Ranger, it was in her blood, it was what she feels she was born to do. As a little girl, she idolized Lireesa and Alleria (I don’t honestly think elves are the type of culture to have posters, but if they did, I can guarantee Raern’s childhood bedroom would be floor to ceiling of posters of every major player in the Rangers’ history). Her mother was a Ranger Lord, she grew up watching the Rangers practice, waving goodbye in the streets when they went off on patrol. One of her best memories was of earning her title.

And she WASN’T THERE when almost all of them died. She wasn’t there to protect her home, she was off on the other side of the continent on some stupid mission that her father asked her to do as a part of her ‘side-gig’ (she comes to terms with the fact that he sent her away on purpose around the same time she meets back up with her now Death Knight brother during WotLK, but she’ll never let go of a shred of self-loathing about it).

When the Blood Elves join the Horde and Raern realizes what’s become of Sylvanas, her automatic thoughts are of her mother and her fellow Rangers. Were they raised, too? Are they among the Forsaken, a people that for all intents and purposes, the rest of Azeroth sees as abominations that must be eradicated? And then, following the Northrend campaign and her assignment as liaison to the Undercity, she sees them. Her sisters. Undead. Anya was her mentor in the Rangers, she and Velonara were in the same recruit class. And here they are, carrying this weight of being hated for something they had no choice in becoming. And Raern knows she should have been with them.

Raern doesn’t fully realize her choice was mostly motivated by this survivor’s guilt, but that was about 80% of it.

As for how people view her? Simply put, everyone falls on a spectrum from ‘how could she have done such a thing’ to ‘how dare you view this as a gift when it’s such a curse’. Most of the Horde I imagine is just confused by her. Maybe if she had been risen during the Legion invasion, she would have a bit more respect from more ‘honor’ based races, like the orcs and tauren, but since she died in a ‘dishonorable’ war, they all are distrustful of her. Lor’themar probably thinks this was some attempt to get closer to Sylvanas, basically Raern taking her job a little too seriously. Valeera and Liadrin, I’ll hold back my opinions on, because I would actually like to rp those reactions out with @fatesblades and @lightsblade respectively, but I would venture a guess that they are somewhere between confused and pitying... perhaps they thought Raern had simply forgot about the list.

Which, I will fully say, she really hadn’t. She knew that list was still in effect, and she knew Sylvanas would definitely raise her. And she always made excuses for never getting around to dealing with it.

Rellinth, her brother, who is loosely a muse of mine that I rarely play, fucking hates her. Entirely cut off all contact with her after Lordaeron. He’s actually retreated hard into the Ebon Blade and wants nothing to do with the Horde or his sister. Because he absolutely hates being undead and his only solace is the fact that he didn’t choose it. And then his little sister runs of and fucking volunteers. He can’t handle it.

I think the only person who didn’t turn their back on Rae for her decision in some way was Lilian Voss. Lily, in BfA, actually participates in a consensual raising, even though she really tries to convince the guy not to go through with it. She wouldn’t judge Raern’s motivation, just try to help her adapt to undead life Having worked with Rae in the Uncrowned, she would have been one of very few people who would have gotten a semi-straight answer out of Raern as to her motivations. (Raern would have explained her view that undeath doesn’t lessen someone’s worth and she was willing to walk the walk on that belief).

Raern... isn’t sure about the decision, now. She doesn’t give it much thought, as there’s nothing she can do about it now except make the most of it. She doesn’t like the isolation it’s caused, definitely, and she’s still trying to find her place in everything. But she would do it again, mostly because of a sort of devotion to making the world a better place. She’s already damned in her mind, but she could possibly make things better for her people if she keeps at it.

[glorious-spoon]

Happy birthday!! Agent Carter survivor’s guilt, possibly with bonus homesickness.

I’m sorry this took SO LONG, omg. Anyway, here you go!

(This got long, so it’s also posted on AO3 as Of Namesakes and Pastries)

*

It didn’t really hit her until after Daniel had finally been ushered out by the nurses, with many a soft, wondering kiss pressed to her lips, his hand stroking over the soft cap of hair on the baby’s head like he couldn’t quite believe that he was touching something real.

The baby. Edward; they’d agreed on the name months ago. Not just ‘the baby’, not just a wiggly mystery of a potential person squashing her bladder and kicking her diaphragm, but Edward. Her son.

The thought fit strangely in her mind, unmoored to anything else. Perhaps it was the lingering fogginess of the drugs, or the oppressive quiet of the hospital room, which didn’t even have a view of the city lights to distract her, only an uninspiring vista of the brick hospital wall on the other side of the courtyard. She hadn’t brought a book; in the frantic, excited rush of packing yesterday, it simply hadn’t occurred to her.

She wished, right now, that it had. The nurses had whisked Edward off to the nursery as soon as Daniel left, with instructions that Peggy ‘get some rest now, dear, while you have the chance’. Good advice, probably. It was just a shame that she couldn’t seem to follow it.

They’d also left instructions that she ring for a nurse if she needed to get out of bed, but honestly. She was dreadfully sore, and her belly felt oddly flat and soft under the hospital gown, her limbs shaky, but she’d dug bullets out of her own flesh on the Eastern Front and run an undercover op with a rebar hole through her abdomen, and she’d be damned if this was the thing that would defeat her. Fortunately, there was no one around to see how long she had to clutch at the handrail of the bed before she was secure on her own two feet.

Daniel would be back in the morning; if all went well, and there was no reason to think it wouldn’t, she’d be back in her own bed by tomorrow night, with Edward nestled comfortably in the little cradle that Daniel had finally managed, with much muttered cursing and squashed thumbs, to put together the week before. Likely there’d be an endless stream of visitors, even with her family and Daniel’s both thousands of miles away. Mum had been positively weepy over the staticky international telephone connection, though, so it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that she might actually go to the effort and expense of booking a flight from London to meet her first and only grandchild.

Peggy had thought, once, that she might name a child after Michael. After the raw shock of his death had faded— that was the done thing, wasn’t it? Naming one’s firstborn after a dearly beloved brother, lost too young to the ravenous maw of war?

Of course, when it turned out that said dearly beloved brother was a rogue MI5 agent who’d faked his own death, that rather put a damper on matters.

She had even thought she might name a child after Steve—

The sudden tears came entirely as a shock. Hot moisture welled in her eyes, a knot twisting up the back of her throat. In the darkened reflection of the window, she watched her expression crumple.

Steve had been dead for nearly a decade. It had been years since she’d cried for him. It was only— he would never be a father. He would never hold a red-faced infant in his arms and touch its tiny nose with the expression of wonderment that Daniel had been wearing earlier. Steve would forever be twenty-six, a daring soldier on that last doomed mission, and there were so many things he would never do or be, and if only Peggy had been faster or cleverer or better at her job—

She wiped her face angrily. This was ridiculous. She was being entirely ridiculous. This was supposed to be one of the happiest days of her life. If she was going to sneak out of bed against doctor’s orders, it should be to peer in the nursery window at Edward, to wonder at his impossibly tiny fingers and the shape of his nose and the ridiculous shock of black hair that stuck straight up from his head like he’d been electrified, to marvel at her own good fortune. Not to stand here crying and carrying on and wishing that her mum was here so that she could snivel into her shoulder like a child.

“Miss Carter! Whatever is the matter?”

She jolted on her feet, spun to see Ana Jarvis framed in the light coming in through the doorway, a picnic basket hooked over her elbow and an expression of burgeoning anxiety on her face. Suddenly acutely conscious of the picture she must make, Peggy scrubbed at her cheeks and forced a smile to her lips.

“Not in the least,” she said, as brightly as she could manage. “Have you come to see the baby? I think that visiting hours are technically supposed to be over, but I should be able to sneak you in—”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Ana said, stepping into the room and pulling the door shut behind her. “But what is wrong?”

Peggy sniffed. “Nothing at all.”

“Mm.”

“Really. It’s nothing. I’m being silly, that’s all.”

“No doubt,” Ana said, in a tone that implied the exact opposite. She perched on the rumpled bed-covers and patted the mattress beside her. “But perhaps you could sit down and tell me anyway. I brought vaníliás kiflis.”

Peggy could smell them, vanilla-sweet and redolent with nuts, an odd contrast to the bleach-and-antiseptic smell that lingered vaguely even in this section of the hospital. Her belly rumbled. She hadn’t been allowed to eat since yesterday, and while the hospital was supposed to be sending up a tray, it seemed to be slow in coming— and would not, in any case, hold a candle to Ana’s cooking. She settled gingerly down onto the edge of the bed, doing her best to hide her wince.

Not good enough, apparently. Ana gave her a considering look, then said, “Are you quite certain that you don’t need any morphine? I can fetch a doctor.”

“I’m quite alright. Really.” Peggy flipped the lid of the basket open. “These smell wonderful, Ana. Thank you.”

“They taste better than they smell,” Ana said, plucking one of the sugary pastries out of its nest of wax paper and holding it out. “Here. You’ll feel better once you’ve eaten something.”

“You sound like my mother.” Peggy swallowed hard around a sudden lump of homesickness and took the pastry before her eyes could start leaking again. The sweet richness on her tongue woke her stomach with a jolt, and she finished it off in two unladylike bites, suddenly ravenous. “You’re right.”

“Oh?”

“They taste even better than they smell.” Her smile felt wobbly and watery on her lips, but at least this time it was real.

Ana’s answering smile was warm. “Have another. And then perhaps you can use your daring spy skills to sneak me into the nursery. I cannot wait to meet him. Truly.”

“It’s a deal,” Peggy said, and reached for another pastry.

[burstzen]

Nvtfoa Destiny Au- Ch.2

Hey everyone! I’m back after a month of writing and decided to give you another chapter as I have had a few people who enjoyed it. The Original Characters of Nvtfoe belong to @mrevaunit42 and all respected Characters of Star vs. the Forces of Evil belong to Disney and Disney XD Please enjoy the story.

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“Maybe we could stop for a second!? The ship is in enough bad shape, I don’t want to crash!” Connor exclaimed.

“The area around us is too cluttered for us to land anywhere. We need to get to the tower.” The Ghost said.

The spaceship ride was bumpy, jittery, and Connor was not able to relax as he and his Ghost was bouncing around inside the cockpit. Connor would have asked the Ghost to stop somewhere, but according to the Ghost, they weren’t going to land anywhere soon.

“So while we are jumping around as though we're about to crash, do you mind telling me more about the fallen?” Connor asked, with a few hiccups from the juttering ship.

“The fallen are extraterrestrials that came to earth and are here to get one thing: The Traveler.” The Ghost explained, “They were one of the contributors to the collapse and now we're on our last legs, only having one last surviving city to stand on.”

“Where’s the city,” Connor said as a big “BANG!” sounded from the back of the ship,

“We should be coming up on it now… There over the mountains!” The Ghost said as it came into view from the cockpit.

Just over the horizon of the mountains was the last safe city on earth the ghost had talked about came into view. Connor could only look at the city in awe as he took the next few moments to stare in awe.

That was, until, a massive explosion was heard from the rear of the spacecraft.

Connor frantically looked towards his Ghost saying, “What now!?”

The Ghost looked towards the controls and saw that they were closing in on the destination and made the ship turn a hard left towards a field with a long strip of grey outside the city as he said, “Hang on!”

-0-0-0-

The Guardians around the grey strip of land were silent as it was quiet and calmer than normal, being more quiet than usual they saw it. So much quieter in fact that Guardians decided to goof around on said land strip that they decided to start a game that involved a ball being kicked around the width of the strip. A few of the Guardians around either rolled their eyes had mixtures of laughter and smiles at their antics or had scoffed with various looks of disapproval.

Eventually, a Guardian who was at his post by the end of the land strip saw the incoming ball of fire that was a ship coming in at a very dangerous speed. The Guardian rang the bell to alarm the others in the entire vicinity, but the Guardians in the middle of the land strip realized too soon and faced the consequences.

And the consequence was a ship coming right in front of their faces.

The ship landed with a boom and slid several meters across the strip of land, as Guardians looked around trying to notify others who were preoccupied with other things to help look for survivors. When some of the Guardians arrived at where the ship had rested and Guardians began to surround the ship and began to investigate the damages.

One of the Guardians that had revived himself took off his plain blue helmet from his plain blue body armor to reveal an oddly shaped, blue-haired human that had a light tan complexion. He immediately went to the front of the ship, obviously frustrated by the fact that the game had been interrupted.

However, when he looked inside he furrowed his brow as he saw an unconscious black haired person unconscious from the impact of the crash landing of the ship.

-0-0-0-

Connor’s worldview was thrashing about, even though his eyes were shut, as he tried to focus his vision to see what just happened in front of him. His head felt unhinged from his body, however, could make out what some of the muffled sounds that came from the outside world.

“...diaaan? …… Please get up? I don’t want to revive you again a second time today please,” Connor blinked away the blur and felt himself try to move, but extreme pain in one of his arms kept him from moving.

“Huh, guess that means you’re partially conscious… Welp, Ghost, do your thing then bring him to the front tower,” said an irritated voice. Connor could only assume that it was another Guardian that got upset by the situation…. Or in this case a massive mess.

Connor tried to speak and almost said a different name when he called out, but could only make out a loud painful whisper as he said, “Ghost, who was that?”

“That was Jack. Apparently, he is a bit miffed at us wrecking the soccer ball game,” Connor blinked from the oddities within his eyes as his double vision began to come into focus more on each passing second. His Ghost was healing him, however, him suffering the brunt of the ship’s force of impact as well caused him to stagger slightly as he tried to heal his Guardian.

“Did he tell you that?” Connor asked. He knew the answer, but the question came more out of reflex rather than curiosity.

“No, but I heard him as he stomped towards the ship. Apparently, he was about to pull a trick that no one in the area had ever seen, but got hit by us… He muttered this all under his breath as he came stomping towards us.”

Connor groaned as he rose slightly and looked at the ship. It was completely obliterated of any usable technology that was available on the ship beforehand, and the same went to the front dashboard that only had one section of recognizable features whilst the rest of it was a mixture of broken metal and glass. There were also flames scattered throughout the small ship that threatened to reach the two of them in moments. Connor tried to move a little, however, couldn’t as the pain hand increased but did not vanish.

The flames rose more and the Ghost spoke in a worried tone, “This isn’t good. If we don’t get you out of here, the flames will probably hurt you in a way that I can’t fix,”

The Ghost rose to the cockpit, “Hey can anyone get him out of here?! He can’t move!” After a few moments of silence the cockpit window was lifted out and smoke that was contained inside lifted into the air. The normal air started to enter and mix inside the ship and Connor could breathe slightly as a blurry image of someone reaching out their hand to lift them out of the smoke-filled persecution chamber.

Connor instinctively grabbed onto the arm and was pulled out to fresh air. The noise became clearer as the voices became louder than before. When he finally got a hold of his senses, Connor looked up to see a beautiful girl with blond hair with a single red streak in it. She also had armor that matched, having red armor, but also has small bits of light and dark orange… almost resembling a sunset.

“Hey, are you okay?” The female Guardian said. She spoke in a normal tone but had a hint of worry that anybody would pick up when they heard it. Connor’s world focused on her and a moment of silence fell on him before he realized what was occurring.

“Uhh... I’m good… thank you.” The Guardian nodded and walked away as Connor got down from the head of the ship, “Follow me. Jack needs to give you a ride back to the tower.”

Connor struggled for a moment trying to get more of his bearings but was soon lifted under one arm by the female Guardian looking slightly sheepish.

“Sorry, thought you were good enough to stand by yourself…,” Slight guilt came over Connor as he quickly spoke out.

“No, no it’s ok, uh… My name is Connor, what’s yours?” Connor was grasping at straws to try and make the conversation any less awkward than it already was.

“The name is Missy, a pleasure to meet you, Connor.” Connor laughed under his breath in nervousness and after a few moments got a good hold on being supported by Missy. The two of them stared at each other for a few moments, not knowing what to say until something caught the eye of Connor as he looked passed Missy.

“Why is the sky purple?” Missy turned around and giggled slightly and the statement.

“It’s not purple, that's just the warding dawn,” Connor tilted his head in confusion, “It’s an ability that we Titans can use to provide cover in a big purple dome… Think of it as a protective bubble.”

Connor looked at the floor of said “bubble” and noticed a white glowing outline that circled around them. Connor nodded in acknowledgment and continued to walk forward towards a destination Connor did not know. After a few paces, they exited the dome and the purple tint around the area of the ship were gone and they saw the area around filled with a couple buildings that were operable with some that were destroyed to the ground.

Connor felt slightly out of place as he said, “So where are we going, and what's going on?”

Missy turned to him and said, “We’re heading to the big messed up tower that’s somehow still up… honestly, i don’t know why we haven’t patched it up yet,” They kept walking towards the crumbled up tower as she continued, “Oh, and the Guardians assigned here today are taking your ship to the hangar bay back towards the city to get patched up!”

Missy turned her head towards the ship and winced at the sight of the ship as she said, “Although… I think it’s going to be a couple of days before you can go on patrols or missions…”

Connor laughed at the comment and said, “I’m guessing I’m getting a briefing about everything when I get to the city then?”

Missy scratched the back of her neck out of nervousness saying, “Yea… I’m sorry everything must be extremely new to you, I'll try my best to not completely overload you with information.”

Connor rolled his eyes at the situation. The entire situation felt oddly normal to him as if he encountered this kind of odd situations beforehand. Connor thought about it and tried to remember something, anything to give him some insight as to what his past was, however, it was to no avail and he made his way towards the beaten and broken tower that was ahead of him with the help of Missy.

After entering Connor saw that the tower itself was entirely hollow, as any semblance or evidence of furniture was removed from the vicinity an extremely long time ago. They hurried to the top of the tower to where two people were talking… and occasionally raising their voice to emphasize some point.

Missy rolled her eyes and sighed as she said, “Jack is a little miffed that you interrupted the crash interrupted the soccer game he was holding. Although, I still question why he even decided to hold it in the middle of the crash strip.”

They turned a left as they headed up the stairs and the conversation got louder as Connor could make out a little of what Jack was saying.

“... yes, Janna, we got another ship coming in…. What? No, there wasn’t any power supplies you could experiment with… Yes, there was a Guardian that came in crashing in with a faulty ship… Please try not to experiment with the ship, there’s a Guardian who needs it… Don’t make me answer that question, I’ve barely seen the guy.” The conversation went on and Missy set Connor on the stairs next to the entryway.

“Jack! I’ve got the Guardian from the crash site… You could’ve helped him by the way.” Jack stopped and turned back towards Missy, “His Ghost was damaged from the crash, he couldn’t heal as fast. Could it have killed you to give him a hand?”

“No, because I needed to inform the Vanguard first. You know how Marco is about being neat and tidy, and that, unfortunately, takes priority,” Jack took a glance behind to look at Missy and continued, “So, it is going to be a little bit before I can give him a ride to the big city and the Tower, so give me a few minutes to request an order.”

Just then, Janna over a radio in front of Jack spoke in a slightly mocking tone saying, “Don’t worry about that Jack, I’ll give “Lord Marco” that we have a Guardian needing a ride and the…. “New blood Briefing.”

Connor’s ears perked up at the sound of that. This briefing, judging by Janna’s tone, was about as inviting as the fallen he took down earlier today.

Thinking back to when he had to fight the fallen only a few hours ago, he noticed the organization the group of aliens had… as well as some of the technology they brought with them…. It stood out to him as a threat, and it worried Connor.

Connor began thinking more on this as a few minutes passed before he felt a nudge on his shoulder and turned to see Missy sitting down beside him.

“So your ride will be here when Marco decides to give the call to pick you up… and that’s when Jackie decides to tell Marco… Soo in the meantime why don’t I tell you a little bit about the tower and the City?” Connor nodded more eagerly that he would have thought and this caused Missy to giggle slightly. This made Connor have a slight blush, however not visible to the mundane eye.

“To start off we are the last safe city on earth. After something called the “Collapse” happened we lost our planet to what we refer to as the Darkness. It swallowed our solar system whole and made us go nigh extinct. However, the big white ball in the sky called the Traveler stopped the incoming Darkness and made a lot of our enemies stop in their traps before we would be blinked out so to speak.”

Connor looked towards Missy and asked, “Are the fallen a part of the darkness? Because I fought them before I even got here.”

Missy looked at Connor in surprise, “You’ve already faced the Fallen and survived all by yourself? That’s impressive… And yes they are a part of the darkness, and while they are a major thorn in our sides, there are bigger advocates of the Darkness or the darkness themselves that come at us…. And during the collapse, they wiped out nearly all of humanity. Destroying thousands of years of technology that we had built under a society that involved reasoning and cooperative thinking.”

Missy stood up and looked at Connor directly in the eye, “After long and hard battles the Traveler managed to push back the darkness, but the Traveler became fractured and broken. With that, he went to what a lot of people say sleep and hasn’t done anything else since.”

Connor followed along, however, he looked at his Ghost and then his hand and asked, “So, where do the Guardians fall into this?”

“Well-,” She was however cut off by Jack who came to the entryway and knocked on the walls for their attention.

“Not to break up the history lesson, but there’s a ride outside. A woman by the name of Amanda Holiday will take you to the hangar bay in the city tower and you’ll be filled in their… Also, i heard your name from you two talking right outside my door… Also again, sorry for not helping you out earlier, but Marco is a bit picky about how things are typically done as you’ll soon see.”

Connor nodded and got up instinctually, a lot faster than he was expecting and turned to his Ghost for an explanation.

“I repaired myself and healed up your wounds with the time that we had.” Connor chuckled under his breath then turned towards Missy who also stood up.

“Thanks for the partial history lesson and thanks for your hospitality…, “ Connor scratched the back of his head out of nervousness, “Sorry if I was a bit of inconvenience today…”

Missy hastily dismayed by waving her hands saying, “Oh no, don’t be! I should be apologizing for not being more helpful in this situation. I mean you must have a lot of questions…”

Both of them laughed and awkwardness fell in the room until Jack knocked on the wall again saying, “The ride? To the city?”

Connor and Missy coughed nervously and said together, “Right! Sorry.”

After a few moments of getting down the stairs there was a ship just as Jack said by the end of the crash strip, as he heard many Guardians call it, and left towards the ship’s cargo hold which was open and within was a blond short-haired woman in a grey mechanical suit with a scarf accessory who was waving to the Approaching Connor.

When Connor jumped on the cargo ship he was greeted with a handshake and a country accent, “Howdy Guardian! I’m Amanda Holiday, a senior engineer. Pleasure.”

Connor nodded and returned the handshake saying, “I’m Connor, new Guardian I guess… I don’t know what to call myself yet.”

Amanda smirked and said, “Well, I’m sure Marco is gonna tell you what’s what back at the Tower.”

Connor was getting more and more nervous with the continued mention about this visit with “Marco” and he soon felt a pressure of some sort of guilt on him that he felt was hard to shake off. Amanda noticed this and put a hand on Connor’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it too much, big guy. At the very least he is a bit more calming than the other two Vanguard Tom and Star.”

This didn’t help Connor’s nervousness in the slightest.

-0-0-0-

The Ride there was slightly jostling in Amanda’s cargo hold but was nothing compared to the crash a few minutes ago and one could say it was even slightly relaxing as they came into the city. The city itself was beautiful up close. It shined brilliantly as many buildings looked both old and new from reconstruction to old age as they flew over the city.

“So what we just picked you up from was a crash strip that surrounds the city area. Four on each compass of the map so that we don’t have many accidents against the city walls… The Titans that defend it don’t exactly appreciate the accidents that cause a lot of damage to the walls they spend there life to protect.” Amanda shouted, pulling Connor from his sightseeing of the city near one of the windows.

“Honestly, I was the only one able to pick you up right now. Apparently, the city has been scrambling to try and find more warp drives for Guardianships. Apparently, we're out of stock and Marco has made it a priority for every Guardian in the field to try and find some supply the Fallen may have stashed away, Although he ain’t having much luck.”

Connor nodded as he looked back towards the city for a moment and said, “I wonder if I could help with that…”

Amanda laughed at the comment and said, “You’re already thinking about helping out the city?! Wow! You really are a Guardian!”

Connor laughed at the reply to his statement. Truthfully he felt happy about the comment and was about to say something before Connor’s sight changed from the city to a hangar bay and Amanda exclaimed, “Where here Connor! Welcome to my hometown!”

The cargo doors opened to reveal noise of metal and metal upon metal sawing, roaring, and destroying one another. Tens of hundreds of voices talking at once and what looked to be robots guarding some of the areas surrounding the area. There were even a few other Guardians that were either just talking or pulling jokes to entertain one another.

Connor stepped down from the ship, uncertain of where to go next until a lady with long blonde hair with two pink hearts on each side of her cheeks exclaiming, “OVER HEREEEEE!”

Connor saw a bright pink robe with some purple accents around the armor with purple stripes on each side of the gauntlets and leg pieces as she rushed towards him and grabbed him by both hands whilst she bounced up and down in almost overwhelming excitement.

“SoyourthenewGuardian!?Ohmygosh,what’syourname?Doyourememberanythingbeforeyouwokeup?What’syourfavoritethingtoeat-”

“Whoa there, Star,” Amanda said from behind Connor, gently trying to put Star’s hands of Connor, “This guy only got resurrected recently, I’d say all he needs is a briefing from Marco. I think that’s all the excitement he needs today… In my personal opinion anyway.”

Star made a slight pout on her face, “But, Amandaaaaaa. There are so many things that I want to show him!” Star let go of Connor’s hand to face towards Amanda saying, “And I believe everyone’s first day here should be exciting AND inviting!”

“So bombarding him with questions he doesn’ have the answers too yet is invintin?” There was a pause before realization struck Star as she scratched the back of her head.

“You have a point…. Sorry for overloading you Guardian,” Almost as if she made a 180, her consideration went right back into curiosity as she asked, “What is your name though?”

Connor who was jostled up slightly by Star’s antics took a moment to shake his head and say, “I’m Connor… I assume you're part of the “Vanguard” that has been mentioned?”

Star nodded her head and said, “Yep! I’m in charge of the Warlocks that are here in the city and you my good Guardian, are probably a Hunter.”

Connor tilted his head to the side and shook his head saying, “Please before you give me all of this information, do you mind if I sit down for a sec? I kinda want to rest before I get bombarded with more information again.”

Connor more overwhelmed by everything now that he was here, and having another round of information thrown at him sounded about as appealing as fighting the Fallen again.

Star looked slightly surprised, but also a bit impressed as she nodded in understanding saying, “Okay! Just ask to come to the Vanguard Hall when you’re want to!”

With that, Star ran off without a second thought giving Connor a chance to breathe as he looked around the hanger some more. In truth, he thought that Star was going to drag him off somewhere, but was surprised at her understanding of his situation.

Connor began to roam the hangar bay, with a small tour thanks to Amanda, as they roamed around Connor started getting ideas for how some parts could be improved, and ,oh, there could be an extra space in the cargo ships if Har- Connor stopped for a moment and thought to himself for a moment and thought to himself.

Where were these ideas coming from? And how was he coming up with these ideas?... Just who was he before everything going on right now.

“And that i believe is about everything in the hangar bay… Hey, you okay?” Connor blinked his eyes as he looked back at Amanda and went back to his thoughts and sighed.

“... If it’s alright with you, I’d probably prefer if I got some sleep. Do you know a place I can stay for the night?” Connor said this with a lot more plea in his voice than he noticed, however it did reach Amanda’s ears.

“Sure, If you take a right by the entryway of the hanger, there is a place where Guardians sleep when they're not registered by the city.” Connor sighed in relief as he said his thanks and walked over towards it.

Connor made his way into the room, which turned out to be one big long hallway with multiple bunk beds on each side of the said hallway. There were a few people in the hallway along with  and In between the bunk beds was a nightstand and at the very end of the hall there was a phone labeled, “Direct messaging to the Vanguard, for emergencies only.”

Connor picked a random bed towards the end of the room and laid down, nearly falling asleep, but he thought of something before he fell asleep. However, something out of the blue plagued his mind as he thought of his Ghost in the spur of the moment.

Something came to him, a name that just repeated in his head and was on the tip of his tongue a couple of times during the day.

Connor spoke softly and almost called him the name he was thinking of when he whispered, “Ghost are you there?”

The Ghost had appeared in front of him and drifted closer to him saying, “What’s up Connor?”

“Do you know anyone by the name of “Harry”?” The Ghost whirred around and made a couple of noises searching in his databanks.

“No, I don’t have anyone that would go by the name of Harry in my databanks that you would have heard about recently. Why what’s up?” Connor turned in his bed and contemplated in thought about what was going on inside his head.

“I think that it’s something that I might have picked up from… somewhere, but I don’t recall, but for now, I think that we should call it a night. Could you do me a favor and see if you could try and see if you couldn’t find anything while I’m asleep?”

The Ghost nodded mid-air saying, “Gotcha, you can always rely on me.”

Connor smiled and said, “Thanks, pal.”

After that Connor’s eyes fell on his body and mind falling asleep. In his sleep he was falling, falling, falling even more. It came to the point where Connor couldn’t figure out what was up or down in some sense.

Until he landed with a thud on a floor of some kind, however.

Connor rose to his feet as he saw machines of many various shapes and styles. Some of them were human, whilst some were being made into metal parts of a spherical shape with energy that appeared unnatural. After that Connor was thrusted into an image of the hangar bay where he found the ship he crash landed with to see an enormous Fallen ominous figure in front of where the spacecraft was originally held. Just when he was about to turn and see Connor a great orange light and flames jettisoned out and cast away the darkness!

“Ah!” Connor woke with a stir and found himself back in the temporary settlement he was sleeping in.

The dream felt too real, in fact, it felt as though it was just more than a dream. However, Connor forgot most of the dream in the panic of waking up and decided to think more about it after he was finished sleeping.

Connor was about to go back to fall back to sleep until he heard he heard shuffling below him with a ‘THUD’ and heard a slight whimper. Connor held still for but a moment and then decided to peek over for a moment to see who was below him.

It was a girl who wore a dark red robe with black outlines and small white outlines on the bottom of the robes. Rubbing her brown hair, Her two pigtails on the side of her head partially in her face as she met Connor’s eyes with her own cyan blue eyes.

Under normal circumstances Connor would have said something along the thought of, “Who are you?” or “What are you doing here?!” but something inside of Connor spoke out to him saying he knew her and he wanted… he wanted nothing more than to get to know her… to ask her name.

Unfortunately, she had a look of panic as she ran towards the end of the hallway.

Connor scrambled out of his bed and chased after her down the hallway. She ran out and the door bursted open with a slam whilst Connor still gave chase. The girl, however, caught on that he was chasing her and immediately threw what looked to be a rock in his general direction. It whiffed over Connor’s head as he barely was able to duck his head in time and kept charging forward.

“Wait!” Connor exclaimed as he ran after the girl, however, she ran with twists and turns until finally she tried to rear around and appeared to throw a fist. Connor’s instinct took over and stopped by throwing his arms over his face.

However nothing hit him, instead, the girl grabbed him by one of the arms and within a moment transmatted within a few seconds and appeared on a ship somewhere in the hanger. Before Connor had the chance to question where he was he was pushed onto a chair and he was now face to face with the girl he had been chasing with her arms crossed, however she had a look of concern rather than anger as she went towards one of the windows on the ship to look out for something.

The girl looked back at Connor saying, “Could you be any louder?! It’s bad enough we probably woke up the whole waiting hallway with the racket we caused,” The girl huffed, “At the very least we're here now, and we’ll be able to get out of here before the guards catch us…”

Connor stood up from the ground and looked a the girl, “Could at least tell me your name before you take me somewhere against my will?”

The girl whipped her head around to Connor, “Excuse me?! I did not take you against your will!”

Connor simply wore a deadpanned look, “Did you ask me?”

The girl almost winced, but held her stance saying, “Well you followed me didn’t you?”

“Without telling me where we were going, which means without my consent, and therefore means against my will.”

“I could have just told you, but you wouldn’t come otherwise!”

“What makes you so sure, Nova?”

The air practically froze when Connor said that name and the girl simply looked at Connor with a worried, yet intrigued expression.

“How… H-how do you know my name?” The girl asked mostly out of curiosity, but there was a bit of nervousness that Connor could see in her eyes as he stared at the cyan orbs.

Connor put on a serious face even though he was panicking inside, “I don’t, and honestly I… doesn't know where that name came from. It just happened to pop into my head whenever I saw you… So what’s your name?”

“... Nova., how do you do.” Connor nodded and looked away for but a moment in acknowledgment as he sighed.

There were so many questions running through Connor’s mind as he looked back into Nova’s eyes. He wanted to know what these names were and they felt as though he has said them a hundred times before all of this today, the same could have been said for the name “Harry” as he almost called his Ghost that multiple times.

Connor made up his plan and asked, “So what do you need me for? You seem like the type that wouldn’t do this unless you really needed to since you were concerned with almost waking up everyone.”

Nova raised an eyebrow and replied, “Why do you want to know? For all you know, I could be here to get you killed!”

Connor had already come to this conclusion, “Because you seem trustworthy. That and you don’t exactly give off an intimidating nature.”

Nova huffed, “Hey!”

Connor continued, “And… There is this feeling… No memory? That I don’t remember, but i guess my body remembers… saying your name…” The air went silent again as Nova still seemed nervous for whatever reason.

Nova said nothing for a moment and said, “... You want to know why I led you here?”

“Kidnapped,” Connor said.

“LED HERE,” Nova exclaimed as Connor simply wore a smug grin. Nova continued, “And I'll take that as a yes…, So… I need help.”

Nova nervously grabbed her left arm with her right hand and said, “I heard from Amanda that you had found a ship somewhere during your resurrection earlier today.”

Connor nodded as he remembered talking to it more in detail during the hangar tour as she continued, “I heard rumors that the Fallen are gathering parts from all over old Russia according to the scouts and I was wondering... If you could take me to where you first found the ship in old Russia. I was hoping to investigate it.”

Connor rolled his eyes and nodded his head saying, “A) You could have asked, and B) Sure, but only one condition..”

Nova was about to retort before there was some rumbling outside as she quickly looked back at the window. Panic seized her face as she said, “Okay, what’s the second condition.”

“I come with you when start investigating.” Nova whipped around to a still smiling Connor. She was about to say “No” but the rustling got louder as and Nova bolted from her position from the window.

“We’ll discuss this later! Right now guards are after me!” Connor smiled as he walked to the hangar door with an extended hand.

“I didn’t hear a yeees.” Connor knew he was in a situation to where he couldn’t get punished too severely considering he just got here moments ago. However, he knew some kind of serious trouble would befall Nova if he were to expose her right here and now.

Nova’s head whipped around and gasped saying, “YOU WOULDN’T-”

“Yes, say yes,” Connor said, almost tauntingly.

Nova put on her best angry face, but Connor could only smile as it just only gave him a warm feeling… It’s almost as if he missed this feeling.

The sound got closer and eventually, Connor saw through the same window that Nova had used to see that someone was running around and was yelling, “NOVA, COME BACK HERE!”

Nova’s panic had skyrocketed, as she hastily nodded her head and said, “YES! OKAY? YES!”

Connor nodded in satisfaction as he bowed his head saying, “Proceed.”

Nova immediately jumped into the chair where the controls were and started the engines as the craft began to take flight.

Connor heard voices outside saying, “NOVA ANALISE BUTTERFLY NO-” the person didn’t get to finish as the ship blasted out of the hangar bay and skyrocketed, causing Connor to immediately hang onto something as they blasted the big white sphere in the sky known as the Traveler.

-0-0-0-

Eventually, after a while, Connor got his bearings and sat next to Nova in the co-pilot seat. After a couple hours of silence, he said, “Well that was interesting. So do you mind telling me who that was?”

Nova bit her lip as she said, “That was… Marco… my father.”

Connor’s eyes went immediately went wide as he leaned his chair next to Nova’s as he said, “Your Dad?! The same Marco that I've heard is a Vanguard member?!”

Nova sheepishly nodded her head as the sun over the horizon began to come up over some mountains, “I was… trying to help him out, “ Nova dipped her head slightly as she continued, “The warp drive situation is worse than it’s let on to be. Due to an accident, the hanger, trying to create more warp drives a few days before you arrived, the engineering wing had suffered a malfunction and now it could be months or even years before we could even get more Guardians ships repaired. That means less Guardians out there and no one to try and push back the Darkness… Which could be extremely bad for everyone.”

Connor took on a serious face and nodded in understanding as he felt the air take on more of a serious tone. Connor replied with, “His scouts haven’t found anything?”

Nova shook her head and almost looked as though she was in pain, “Dad is really not happy… lately, it’s all he discusses with Mom at home, trying to get more options to fix this.”

It almost pained Connor to see Nova this down, already he felt the situations weight and put a hand on Nova’s shoulder. She looked at him with almost teary eyes.

“Don’t worry too much, we will find something,” Nova raised both of her eyebrows as if to say ‘Are you sure?’

“And even if we don’t find anything, you had a good reason to try and find something to help out your family. That’s what really counts.”

Nova looked at Connor as if she found a treasure and with looks alone they shared a moment that didn’t need words as they stared at each other for a few minutes.

Suddenly a crimson red Ghost appeared and with a deep ladylike accent warned, “Nova! Watch it!” Nova whipped her head around as she saw that they were about to hit a cliff. Nova veered right as she swerved around the mountain cliff and narrowly dodged the rock formation with a ‘phew’.

“Turn left! We’re close to the hanger we were at!” Connor’s Ghost had exclaimed. Nova veered left as she jerked the ship in the appropriate direction.

“Stop!” The Ghost exclaimed once more. Nova struggled to stop the ship and eventually the ship ceased to and they hovered by a cliffside which was surrounded by rusted buildings, cars and a small rusted metal shack towards the left of the scenery.

Both Connor and Nova tried to get there bearings as the senses were partially frazzled by the experience and Connor shook his head as he sat back up. During his daze, Connor looked out at the scenery and saw the change as familiar white snow with brown grass.

Connor put his hand on his head and said, “Ghost. Warnings before you just pop out with screaming.”

Both Ghosts looked at each other and said simultaneously, “Sorry.”

After a few moments of remembering where they were, Connor and Nova both transmatted out of the plane and landed on the ground as their weapons appeared on their backs. While Connor only had the one weapon, Nova appeared to have a hand cannon with a bright red and gold color scheme with three white symbols on the side of the gun, A gun that appeared to almost have a square frame with bright lights straight lines of light blue on the sides, and finally a sword with a brown hilt and a black blade with bright white that outlined the blade.

The blade itself was special all on its own, as the guard made a square around the handle. Finally at the vertex of the handle and blade met was the red butterfly that curved upward around the bottom part of the blade, it acted as the entry point for the blade and hilt, and had a black outline to make the butterfly visible, and at the body of the butterfly was a yellow star. Connor whistled as the selection of guns impressed him from looks alone.

Nova rolled her eyes saying, “I need you to follow me. My gear and strength are a better than anything you have currently if I’m, to be honest.” Connor nodded and the two looked towards their Ghosts as Nova continued, “So where do we need to head to?”

“I recorded that area for future reference and it should be… to your rights.” Connor and Nova looked towards the left as they saw an opening to the rusted fortress of the cosmodrome. With some stairs leading out from the left of the said opening.

“I knew that we were going to come back here eventually, Connor, but barely after a day of your resurrection? I haven’t had this much to do, since that time I had to escape a Fallen sector without getting blown to pieces.”

“Only a Fallen sector? You should try to follow Nova into a Vex stronghold, I swear,” The two Ghosts conversed as they both glided by Nova and Connor’s shoulders, “This girl gets into so much danger that the Vanguard had put her into house arrest for nearly setting an off a bomb early in a hive cave. That’s really the main reason why Marco was so uppity about her leaving.”

Nova blushed out of embarrassment as she jumped up in the air… and started to glide up and into the opening.

Connor had to double take on what just happened with both the conversation and what just happened in front of him as he laughed saying, “How do you do that?!... and house arrest?”

Nova turned her head around, her cheeks still being slightly pink, and said, “I don’t wanna talk about it… Wait, you don’t know how to do your double jump yet?”

“That’s what I have? How do I do that…” Connor furrowed his eyebrows in contemplation.

“Umm…. I don’t really know how Hunter’s do it… Just try.. Jumping I guess?” Connor rolled his eyes at Nova’s words and the only thing that he thought would be to try it and see if it works.

Connor backed up and jumped, aiming for the opening. While Connor jumped relatively high, he didn’t notice anything happen and so at the last moments he lifted his arm up, and barely managed to grasp the edge of the opening. Nova helped pull him up and looked at him with a bit of disappointment.

Nova said, “Not a bad jump, but I don’t think that was a double jump,” Connor simply shrugged and they continued on into the building.

The building itself was buried under dirt and aged rubble with dusty computers, broken lights, and familiar windows that didn’t even give the slightest image outside. In Connor’s mind, the thought it gave off a rather ghost town type of feeling as no one else was in the vicinity.

“Ugh, this place always gives me the creeps,” Nova’s Ghost spoke out, “It always just gives me the creeps just staring at everything broken like this.”

“Crim, focus please,” Nova said softly, “We need to be careful of Fallen that could be here,” ‘Crim’ rolled her eye and disappeared floating into Nova.

Connor eyes flared with curiosity, “Your Ghost has a name?”

Nova nodded her head and put a finger to her lips and made an “shh” noise.

Together they walked the hallways, and after an hour of navigating corridors left from right, Connor spotted something out of the corner of his eye in a bright room. In a small space, he found a golden chest that had a symbol on it.

Connor’s Ghost gasped in an excited tone, “You found a regional chest!”

Connor’s head tilted to the side saying, “Why is it different from a normal chest?... also why is it all the way out here?”

The Ghost opened up the chest and said, “They're chest’s that the Vanguard left and revisit to help inexperienced Guardians that are on patrol. They were first introduced when Star was appointed as a Vanguard to make patrols not as boring for a Guardians first patrol, it must have been moved here by the Fallen and thought it was some kind of recourse cash… That means we might be on the right track!”

Within a second the Ghost made an ‘oh’ at the “This gear isn’t usually seen by many Guardians. It’s protective engineer gear that the hangar bay staff use when they test our ships or prototypes of new spacecraft,” Connor picked up on of the six small green engrams. They were small and almost had a crystalline texture to them, and it could be mistaken for a very big piece of rock candy that someone had crafted.

“We should probably equip that for the fight ahead, hold still for a sec,” With that Connor’s original plain white armor glowed for a second and changed within a few moments of the process is complete. The armor changed into a simple brown and black design with a short cloak that only had a plain black color. The armor had a number of pockets for all types of tools that were empty, except for a small pair of glasses in the left chest pocket.

The glasses caught Connor’s attention as he removed them from their place to inspect them. They had a simple black frame, but with no actual lenses to see through and when he tried to put them on as the Ghost spoke out, “Hold on, I didn’t make you a helmet when I revived you because we were in a rush, so I’m going to make the helmet with all the hud info a Guardian needs-”

Connor interrupted saying, “Um, could we not have said hud? I… don’t feel like it would help me very much.” The Ghost stopped and said, “Why?”

“I just don’t feel like it would be of any help to me, do you mind if we don’t have it?” Connor felt as though so many things in front of his face would mess with him in more ways than one and just felt it would get in the way all when he was fighting things.

“All right. It makes my job a little bit easier not having to manage everything… By the way, you have a great vision already due to being resurrected by the light. Why are you wearing those?” the Ghost said, his voice sounding more inquisitive than criticizing.

Connor just shrugged and heard a giggle from Nova to his right as she said, “You look like a dork.”

Connor just smiled and said, “Glad to know you think I'm smart. Thanks, Nova.” Nova’s eyes rolled and turned away from Connor rather quickly.

“Come on, we need to stay focused, maneuvering around this place is like a maze with no map.” She was right, the area here was extremely broken and in most cases, they had to have Nova blast away all of the debris away with a fusion rifle that Connor had a powerful urge to ask about, but stayed focused on the task ahead.

Just when they almost had a slight inkling of calling it after a couple of hours, a noise was heard from a distant room ahead. It was the sound of a Fallen with its clicks and noises, both Connor and Nova shared a look that told both of them to move quietly. They treaded with care not to make any semblance of abnormal noise.

After a few moments they arrived at the hangar bay that provided Connor with his escape with a ship, however now the hanger contents were different the last time Connor was here.

A lot different.

There were hundreds, maybe even thousands of large to small parts where being into what Connor could only assume to be the Fallen form of crates as the dozen’s of fallen were loading up everything into spheres that had giant oval openings that had many variations in size.

There was also a machine being built that was a sphere in shape that looked one-third of the way complete with most of it being only silver and black but have a tiny hint of purple surrounding the circle inside the sphere. In front of it was a goliath of a Fallen and what Connor could only assume was the leader of the group. His head looked as though it was a helmet of some kind with it having an oval shape on the top with two stubs on the side, four long arms and the massive body previously mentioned was draped in a red cape with red and white clothing, and to top it all of held a massive gun that seemed to have four barrels that emitted a red fiery glow.

The two looked in awe as they saw from the left side of the room and Nova backed up against the wall, out of sight from the fallen and had heavy breathing befall her.

“Those supplies… there probably from the other parts of old Russia. It must have been easy scavenging from other parts of Russian now that there aren’t as many Guardians out, and there’s probably enough there to support the city for weeks!” Nova’s eyes were giddy with excitement but returned to being serious at the moment. Connor could not have tried to hide the smile on his face even if he tried. Even in the situation, they were in at this very moment, there was just something about Nova that made him smile.

Nova took another peek at the Fallen to access the situation further, “… Darn. We need to transmat all of the supplies here as well as the Fallen… and I think I have enough beacons to get all of those supplies out.”

“Here,” Nova said and she handed Connor the sword, “This is only to be used in emergencies. Okay?” Connor’s eyes flared open and looked into Nova’s eyes which were eyes of genuine trust.

Connor nodded in acknowledgment and put the sword on his back. The sword locked into place like a magnet as Nova said, “Crim, give Connor’s Ghost all the transmat beacons I have that go directly to the Tower,” With that a processing noise was made by his Ghost, “Connor I’m going to distract all of them so that you can place all of the transmat beacons on the supplies, okay?”

“What about you? Those Fallen will chew you up!” Connor replied, he knew where this was headed as soon as she gave him the sword, but he sure didn’t like it.

“I’ll buy you some time, besides,” Nova gave a confident smirk, “I’m not gonna die by some ridiculous ether eaters.” Connor still held a worried expression but bit his tongue as he nodded and went along with Nova’s plan.

With that Nova jumped faster than Connor anticipated, and as she flew up into the sky, she burst into light and flames surrounded her body that gave her wings of fire as she threw projectiles that landed whilst floating in the air. Instead of exploding, it created a circle and a ball of fire in the middle that pelted the Fallen with a streak of fire, presumably ending, or seriously damaging their target.

When she landed she returned to normal and immediately got pulled out the hand cannon shooting down a few of the stragglers she missed. Within moments, and a few well-placed headshots, she managed to wipe out everything. However, the massive Fallen roared with fury and within the walls of the compound more fallen that weren’t directly in the compound rallied and began to chase down Nova.

Nova threw up a thumbs up and said out loud, “I’ll meet you back at the ship!” and ran as fast as she could with every Fallen in the vicinity roaring and chasing after her, including the leader soon following suit.

Connor took a moment to stand flabbergasted as he stood there speechless, but his mind told him to focus and his gaze locked onto the recourse cash of recourse cash’s. Connor could have sworn the number of materials here was the Fallen’s collective treasury and that motivated him more than ever.

Connor moved and said, “Ghost, the beacons!”

“Right!” With that, the Ghost flew around everything and beacons transmitted onto each of and every one of the Fallen containers, “It will take a few moments. But it with Nova buying us time, we’ll pull it off.”

“I hope so, I don’t feel like getting resurrected three times within twenty-four hours.” Connor held up his auto rifle listening to his surroundings, hearing distant cries from fallen either roaring or the fire that Nova kept spreading.

Silence fell Connor as his instincts ramped up to twelve… Connor tensed when he heard the crackling of electricity right behind him. Something in Connor awoke again, similar to earlier that day when he was firing against Fallen or when he beat that Fallen captain.

“Connor!” The Ghost cried out. Connor used the back of his rifle to blunt a Fallen who was invisible behind him and the Fallen fell revealing himself and two blades that was surrounded by blue electricity. Just as the Fallen by the Ghost raised his sword, he fired his rifle towards the Ghost’s direction and the Fallen fell. Connor immediately turned to the one which he stunned earlier to take him out, but it got up faster than expected and got in a quick swipe to the shoulder with his blade before being shot down by Connor at close range.

Connor reloaded and the light healed his wound fairly quickly as he surveyed the area for more Fallen threats. After a few moments, Connor eased up a bit to release a breathe to keep him from passing out.

Within that moment the supplies disappeared, and the Ghost said, “We got it, Mission Accomplished! Now we need to get out of here before more Fallen show-”

Just then heavy footfall fell as they looked towards where Nova ran out as the giant leader of the Fallen came through those doors.

“The Archon Priest! Connor get behind cover!” Connor dove to a nearby steel pillar as he heard the furious roar of the Archon and he readied his gun. Almost as if it was a shotgun, four round energy bursts that looked as though it were fire but solid came at the steel pillar and Connor dove from his position to avoid the blast and put away the rifle to bring out the sword that Nova had lent him.

Connor charged as the Ghost’s warnings became distant thoughts and rushed him at speeds that even he didn’t expect and hit the rifle the Fallen was carrying, cutting the weapon in two.

The power of the weapon was extraordinary, it felt as though he could feel multiple people helping him that was in the blade itself, and Connor enjoyed the feeling of confidence that took over him. Unfortunately, the gun sparked and exploded a few moments after he cut it in half. Connor was hurled a few feet back but stood his ground.

The giant Fallen also got back up from being knocked down by the blast and stomped his foot in anger as he roared at Connor. Connor simply smirked and pointed his sword at the Fallen, Connor knew that he was being overconfident, but something from the sword just told him to be focused on this fight and this fight alone. The Archon charged Connor as he dove to his right and got a swing off on the Fallen’s leg and continued to maneuver around the Fallen just like that getting hit after, after hit, after hit. It got to the point to where Connor just simply moved out of the way of the Archon as he fruitlessly tried to get a hit on Connor, but to no avail.

After Connor was about to get one final strike on the Archon before the end, but the Fallen grabbed the blade of the sword as it was being raised. The Archon ripped it away from Connor’s hand, and the power surge soon faded from his body.

Suddenly, Connor didn’t feel that confident anymore.

Connor moved out of the way from one of the arms that swung at him as he reached for his gun in an attempt to finish it off. However, the gun clicked with no ammo in it and Connor threw the gun away as he tried to think of something.

“Use your bow and arrow!” The Ghosts voice rang out, and before Connor could ask why, Ghost continued saying, “When you defeated that Fallen captain I detected void energy! The Nightstalkers are a Hunter class that call upon the Void light and use it to defeat other foes!”

Another arm lumbered from the injured Archon as Connor dodged out of the way, “From some of the notes that I've read that they’re calm and focused when they channel the void!”

Connor dove again as the Archon tried his hardest to catch him. Connor must have thought the giant Fallen overexerted himself as the Archon fell to his knees and sounded as though it was panting heavily.

This was Connor’s only chance as he took a deep breath and tried to stay calm and focus. His focus stayed on only the darkness in front of him. Nothing else, no sound, not object, only silence took his mind. It was easy, easier than he thought as silence took over him and his mind, and he was taken away from the current plane of existence and to somewhere he had no idea.

It was so quiet that there should have been noise… and there was. Suddenly there was a low dull roar that Connor could feel and make out. He could make out what it sounded like, but it was unspeakable and quiet. Small is it was Connor reached out to try and find it.

Connor opened his eyes suddenly, and just as the Ghost said, he started to pull an arrow from an ethereal bow.

Connor could feel a physical arrow and bow even before it appeared in magical purple flames gathered around his hands. As he pulled back the Fallen tried to move towards Connor to stop him. But after a few moments, Connor released the Arrow.

-0-0-0-

Connor sighed as he walked in front of the opening entrance that he first entered when Nova and he first entered. Connor looked down from the elevated position and saw Nova who was pacing and waving her hands in the air as she paced around her small crimson Ghost.

Connor jumped down and walked over to Nova to which he could hear her say, “... I mean I would be responsible for the death of a Guardian WHO HAS NOT EVEN SPEND A DAY ON PATROL!! HOW AM I-”

“Hey Nova,” Connor said, interrupting Nova from going too far into paranoia, “Hey Crim, do you mind if you can get me on the ship?”

“Uhh… sure? H-here you go.” with that, Connor’s vision became data like for a moment before being transmatted on the ship and sat down in the ship and sighed in relief for not being on death’s row for a third time today. Only seconds later Nova immediately got down in her seat and looked directly at Connor.

She didn’t say anything, nor did she look like she wanted to hear anything Connor had to say, but she did something that Connor half expected.

With a slap to Connor’s face, the ship launched off from the cosmodrome and back towards the Tower.

------------------------------------------------

Hope you all enjoyed! keep in mind I am a Novice at writing so please forgive my blemishes on the story. I’m going to be taking a break from writing this series to find something else I can put these two lovebirds through, but until then have a nice day!

[nonsimsical]

Saturday Morning - 9:02 AM

"Why don't you just take the girls to the park?" Faye sighed. She'd called into work sick and cancelled her time at the Dance Studio. Taking the girls out was not apart of what she had scheduled. Crying in bed all day sounded good.

"Faye," Freeman walked into their bedroom after her. "Do you think your parents want you to stay in your room all day crying over them?"

"What?" she was genuinely surprised that he had pinged her behavior as being related to the loss of her parents. Today was the anniversary of their deaths and it still hit her as hard as it had the day she woke up in the hospital and overheard her parents had been in a car accident and she was the only one that had survived.

'"It.. is honestly.. I cannot even begin to tell you how miraculous it is that she is even breathing right now. Your sister shouldn't have survived that car accident." The Doctor had whispered to her eldest sister, Madlaina. She could smell her perfume and knew she was probably out on a date and was pissed she had to leave early because of her.

"And my parents?" Mads voice shook with tears.

There was a long pause that was broke by the sounds of her sister sobbing. "I'm very sorry for your loss, but please try and focus on your sister and her recovery. At her age she should bounce back nicely however the survivors guilt... can be very consuming."

"Survivors guilt?" Jaymie was here, too. She should have sensed her older sister was present. They had a bond like the way twins do, but she didn't.. she didn't because she was broken. She couldn't feel any pain, but she knew. She knew she was broken.

"There are different stages of survivor's guilt, I can give you some pamphlets on it as well as some cards to some very good psychologists in the area. She will need to be watched very carefully at all times."

"Ok, but.." Mads was still sobbing and was unable to finish what she was going to say or ask.

"But how do we tell her about Mom and Dad?" Jaymie finished.

The good Doctor sighed, "We can tell her for you, of course, if that's what you would prefer. However, you must know there is no easy way to break the news to someone that those they love have left this world. Died."

"She should hear it from us, Mads." Jaymie's voice dropped a few octaves. As if she knew she could hear everything they were saying.

"I can't tell her that Mom and Dad died, Jaymie!" she all but shouted at their sister. "She would never forgive me for being the one to tell her that. You can't ask me to do that. Not now. Not .. not after this."

"I'll tell her then."

"Its your decision, like I said we.." The Doctor suddenly stopped speaking as the sound of the door whooshed open and then closed.

"Excuse me Doctor, but Child Protective Services is here and would like to speak to the patients sisters."

"Of course, thank you, Doris."

The sound of the door whooshed open and then closed, signalling the nurse's exit.

"CPS is here? Why?!" Jaymie asked, her voice taking on the sound of panic.

"Why don't we go outside and meet with them and see what they want." Madlaina sounded off. Kind of like she did after she went with Dad to his work for career day and went on a call with him. She never did tell her or Jaymie what had happened that day.

"What if they want to take Faye away from us, Mads? And me.. oh God. Oh God!! They're going to put us in a home!! A girl's home or.. or worse. We'll be placed with strangers!" Jaymie was breaking down. She was no longer brave.

"Shhh... shh..." Madlaina crooned to their sister. "I'll make it right, ok? I won't let anyone take either of you away from me."

Then it was dark.'

"Faye?"

"Mmh?"

Freeman sighed and sat next to her on the bed. "Tell me three things that you miss most about your parents being gone."

"What?"

"Tell me three things that you miss about your parents being gone. And not just that they died."

"Um.. well, I wish they could have met Sophia."

"Ok, two more."

"I wish my Dad would be the one who walks me down the isle on my wedding day."

"And the last?"

"I wish my Mom was here to give me advice."

"Ok..," he paused for a few seconds, head bowed with his eyes closed as if he were taking saying a prayer. "You have to know they are watching over you and Sophia from Heaven. And that your Dad will be there on your wedding day in spirit and you can still talk to your Mom and listen to your heart for her answer because she is always with you, Babe."

Faye smiled. Sighing, she sat up and wrapped her arms around his torso. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, pulling her closer and hugging her tightly. "They're always with you Faye, because they're a part of you and they're a part of Sophia."

"Thank you."

"No need to thank me," he lifted her chin up so he could look in her eyes. "It's ok to miss them, but they would want you to live and to help yourself and your daughter thrive. Not mope that they are no longer with us because they are all around us and they are always here." He pointed to her heart and then leaned down and kissed her gently on her mouth.

"What would I do without you."

He chuckled and rubbed his nose against hers before pulling her off the bed with him. "You'll never have to know the answer to that because I will always be here for you, babe. I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Now let's take the girls to the park!"

"Ok!"

[mystery-star]

Liveblogging Les Misérables (2012) – Part 2/2

Here’s part 1 of the liveblogging

The elephant.  

Gavroche just climbing into that carriage. The disgust on the rich’s face.

“Cut the fat ones down to size” I just love it. The double meaning

Eponine is BEAUTIFUL. I also love her dress.

Well you call that love at first sight…

“Borrowed” Colette. Didn’t he make it obvious he’ll let her live with him forever?

Ah yes Javert again. Is there only one police officer in France?

There, Javert invading personal space again.

How hard. Eponine loves him and he asks her to find him the girl he saw like 10 seconds and fell in love with.

Boy please remember, you only saw her like 10 seconds. The world isn’t gonna end if you don’t see her again…

“It’s better than an opera” is that a hidden message that Les Mis is better than operas??

The way Enjolras pronounces “boy” boii.

Enjolras seems so offended by them joking around and Marius being in love

Marius, you only saw her fucking ten seconds…

“General Lamarque is dead” Enjolras going off like the guy in that meme bc he found his sign (you could actually make a meme with that… gimme a sec):

Aaand Marius is gone the second Epoinine is back because love

Ah at least Cosette askes herself if you can fall in love that quickly.

Valjean still got the candlesticks…

Nooo poor Eponine looks so hurt and broken when Marius is so happy about Cosette.

Also Marius, remember: 10 goddamn seconds!

You’re name’s just Cosette? No surname?

Ah the love-triangle….

Yeah calling your daughter a hussy. How nice. Dad of the year.

Also, are they trying to go and rob Valjean or what?

*Police presence announced* Valjean: “It must be Javert” sure, we established already that he’s the only police officer in France.

He’s packing the candlesticks: Because that’s the most important thing to take, alright

On my own reminds me so much of my daydreams with fictional crushes. Like 1:1

Poor Marius so stressed when he doesn’t find her…

And please to the both of you, you’ve know each other a day!

Just why does Javert know the Revolution will be that day? Ah never mind, he probably heard them advertising it. Lol.

Ah so many people singing different things a time… No understand.

BARRICADE DAY

How the soldiers just wait until the students finished singing before they do something…

Lol Javert trying everything to blend in with the peoples/students.

I’d be the first to die by getting hit by a falling piece of furniture.

Ah yeah, sending Javert best idea. How easily they just trust him. Like why not send one of your friends you know you can trust?

What has Javert actually been doing in the time he “spied” told the police what he found out at the barricade?

Ah yes Javert, you can take up on all these people all alone, trying to fight them is the best thing to do.

Dear Javert, even if Gavroche hadn’t called you out, they would have noticed literal 2 mins later that they are indeed attacked before dawn and your cover wouldn’t have been blown too…

“They’re coming over the barricade” Well, did you expect them to just shoot at the furniture or what??

Eponine, if you had time to grab that weapon, why direct it at you? Why not in the sky or down or something?

“You get something, I get something. Who needs charity?” Gavroche, you’re my hero.

“Stay away from there [the barricade]” Uh-uh he surely will

How Valjean pauses after reading that Cosette loves Marius. The shock…

Cosette is the child of Valjean’s autumn days? Fantine said her real father was gone when autumn came. I love the interconnections. And of course how some melodies are the same but different people singing different lyrics.

Valjean, after your short solo about Marius taking Cosette away your “I must find this boy” Sounds wrong. As if you wanna make sure he doesn’t come and take your child…

Ah yeah stealing an officer’s clothes to sneak up on people that fight officers. Best idea.

And look the students learned and closer inspect the volunteer this time first.

Did Javert just nod at Valjean (When he looks up after the students show him to Valjean)?? Or am I overinterpreting

“Give me Javert” how Javert’s eyes go like “Fuuuuck”

Javert you don’t understand what “Get out” means? He’s fucking changed, he told you so. Apparently, you changed too from prison scum to inspector. Is THAT the way of the lord to hate someone forever and not give them a second chance? Geez.

“Once a thief always a thief” I’d be like “One more word and I’ll also be a murderer”

Thank you Valjean for telling him off (and sayings he was always wrong)

Boiii Valjean just WANTS to be arrested.

How cute that Gavroche is always some notes behind in “Drink with me”

Ah Marius please do me a favor and don’t pretend you’re life is over because you might won’t see Cosette again or that she’d be sad if you die. You could actually die, you got bigger problems.

Valjean stop singing, the people are trying to sleep. They have to fight tomorrow. Honestly, why does no one ever complain that people are always singing?

What kind of deeps sleep does Marius have? He fell asleep mere minutes ago and Valjean is right next to him singing loud and he sleeps like an angel…

Courfeyrac said the power would get wet…. Why didn’t someone put it out of the rain?

Sorry but shooting at a child and then finding it funny. Sir, as your superior I’d have arrested you.

Ah now that he’s dead you look shocked.

How organized the students are, discussing which cannon/men they take out first.

Also, why didn’t the officers bring the canons in the night?

“Ah no we’ll fight, doesn’t matter if we don’t stand a chance” but then becoming desperate. Maybe could have considered that a tad sooner?

Why didn’t you inspect the place you want to build the barricade before to make sure you have an escape route or something, huh? Or do so in the night?

The irony that the soldiers lie where they died, scattered over the floor and the revolutionaries are nicely lined up and all. Who did that?

Also, first time Javert notices that MAYBE he’s been a bit of a prick. How he gives Gavroche his medal. My heart.

Then sees the sewers/hears Valjean and is all “Valjean hunting” mode again.

How/why did Thénardier get in the sewers?

May I say they are in… deep shit?

“This man’s done no wrong” Uh sorry, he was at the barricade. He probably killed someone. Isn’t that worse than stealing bread and fleeing?

“One more step and you die” Valjean just walks away… and nothing happens. Lol

Valjean caught you in the trap? You went there yourself, Javert and Valjean only came hours later.

He’s balancing in front of a deep again.

“Nothing on earth that we share” do you want me to make a list? Starting with similar lyrics, deeds, or just biological or cultural similarities? For starters, you both live on Earth, both in France at the same time and you’re both male.

Wait is he singing like 1:1 what Valjean sang before ripping his papers? Ship-mode activated

Because suicide was the ONLY option you had boii. It’s one (1) thief you’d let go free, do something good instead and be happy, forget it. Or invent fines and let Valjean pay some francs for fleeing. Arrest him and let him go free then immediately or let him escape… arrest him and be like “He did good stuff; his sentence is reduced to one month. Tell someone else to arrest him… Want me to go on?

Ahh the “Empty chair at empty tables” melody that features in at least two other songs.

And how hard it must be for Marius, to be the only survivor. Survivor’s guilt. It’s not even his fault he lives.

I generally admire the people can sing despite they emotion. Like I can’t sing at all and it gets worse when I’m emotional.

“A night full of you” I’m sorry that sounds wrong.

Ah everyone is singing at the same time again…

Valjean looks like my grandpa when he was younger.

“No more words” or “Not another word” seems to be Valjean’s fave line.

How cute Marius looks, listening to Valjean’s story so eagerly like a curious child.

Why would his “crime” make Cosette’s heart break? Isn’t just leaving her worse?

Has he packed his candle sticks again? I’m sure he has them.

The carriage boy’s look when the Thénardiers come through it “Where tf they come from?” also great disguise and great fake name.

Besides, do they even know their daughter died? How did they feel about it?

There, it’s pronounced Boii again, twice.

And I still don’t know what exactly they wanted Marius to think that they came to the wedding; That Valjean is a bad man?

The candle sticks in the convent…

Valjean looks like he aged 20 years in the past minutes.

Wait he’s dying now and believes/dreams Cosette is near, just as Fantine did when she died? Parallels...

Okay for Marius “Bring him home” meant let him live, but now you say “Bring me home” means let me die?

So Valjean promises to try and stay alive, only a minute later he’s gone.

I still stick to my headcanon that the Bishop is God. At least for Valjean.

The altered lyrics of “Do you hear the People sing?” does it to me.

But honestly, will all the afterlife be waving a flag on the barricade?

And the hidden meaning that they did get their better tomorrow in death. Damn.

Also, I asked myself where Javert was. Then I realized he might be in hell. Like his whole “Mine is the way of the Lord” maybe wasn’t that righteous? Or because he committed suicide?

[maghrebim]

THE THING IS. people probably died. a lot of them. they didnt deserve to die more than chloe, but chloe didnt deserve to die more than them either. to sacrifice chloe would be an active choice, an uncertainty you couldnt know would work out. to save her is to decide to stop trying to make the perfect outcome happen. to save her is an act of acceptance; you accept that you cannot control everything. you accept that it is not your fault.

if chloe dies, its still because you went back and changed things. you chose to let it happen because you thought it might fix things. theres NO reason it actually did, honestly. you could have intervened without rewinding, the same way you end up doing with jefferson and kate if you “fix” the timeline by sacrificing chloe. and what was the point of it all? there must be one, since the universe was so intent on chloe dying to restore the natural order of things.

sacrificing arcadia bay vs sacrificing chloe is the wrong way to frame the final choice. the choice isnt between sacrificing a town and sacrificing chloe. its between saving chloe or sacrificing chloe. saving her is an act of love and acceptance. its choosing to stick with your choices. you tried. you did the best you could, you really did. now all theres left is to wait out the storm.

no matter what chloe says, from her perspective, when you sacrifice her, she lives a life of: dead father. abandoned by best friend #1. abandoned by best friend #2. expulsion from school. drugs. debt. death at 19 on a bathroom floor. you die feeling justified in everything you ever thought about yourself; you’re not worth loving, you’re not worth staying for, people will betray you, you don’t matter, life is unfair.

if you choose to save chloe, she gets to experience life again. she gets to know her mother cared. her father cared. david cared. rachel cared. max cared. shes loved and protected and life hasnt gone her way but that doesnt mean shes a failure or that shes not worth it. its hard, and theres a lot of survivors guilt times a thousand, but she gets to be loved and to be in love.

many people died in arcadia bay the day of the storm. but its not unreasonable to think that some lived. people were already fleeing before it hit the shore. and by that point, many of them had already had their lives touched by max. a conversation here. a warning there. their lives were altered for the better. theres no reason chloe doesnt deserve that too.

things happen that are out of our control every day. consciously choosing to let someone die is an active choice. its not on par with being powerless in the face of disaster. if you can honestly say you tried and struggled and fought to the very end, its not your fault. it could never be. having the power to save someone and instead letting them die, on purpose, will always be the worse choice.

letting chloe die is the biggest betrayal to both her and to who max is. its a fucked up choice thats not a choice at all and choosing love over purposeful inaction, choosing to save rather than sacrifice, choosing to accept and do the best with your circumstances - those will always be the right choices.

after all, your visions of the storm started before you even saved chloe for the first time. what if youd chosen to sacrifice her and the storm still happened? at that point, wouldnt it be better to let go? wouldnt that be the most powerful lesson of “you cannot truly control time”? max could never have saved arcadia bay. but she could choose to save chloe.

and she did.

[beinguncomfy-blog]

001.

I haven’t figured out a tagging system or anything. And this post isn’t too thought out, so I’m not sure how coherent it will be.  But I figured now was as good a time as any to start this blog.

I am a person with Osteogenesis Imperfecta and I recently got in my first car accident.  

And I’m finding I’m mentally and emotionally exhausted in a way that I can’t quite explain. . . Or maybe I can, but I downplay it.  Or maybe I can, but I just don’t have the right audience for it.  That’s not to say my friends aren’t good allies, but I think it’s something that can only be validated in the disability community ( a part of me feels bad saying that, as if I’m making it us vs. them.  But is that not just a truth?  If you’ve never seen the color green, you could not understand or explain what green is ).  Anyway, I want to write this post to make it real and validate it for myself.

The background: I got to a yellow light, braked just in time for the red.  I gave it a few seconds, then boom, I get swiped on my left bumper.  No airbags deployed, everything was for the most part fine.  But this was my first accident.  Basically, it’s got me thinking about disability for a few reasons.  

I. The Internalized Idea That My State Of Being Is Inconvenient.  

I have a bone disease.  I break things easily.  It’s a genetic condition that, as far as we know, is incurable.  When I break things, I’m often times not doing anything different from what a person without my disability will do.  My body just gets tired, my body is just more fragile, than a person without my disability’s body.

When I first started driving at the age of 19, my mom told me a story about a woman with my disease who died from a neck break.  The accident, she told me, was something that would’ve just given anyone else without my disease whiplash.  

My first instinct wasn’t fear for my own life--I was afraid of traumatizing whoever might hit me.  I even went so far as to put a note in my car that offered condolences to whoever hit me.  “I’m not sure what happened, but if I died, it wasn’t entirely your fault. I have a bone disease.”  My mother obviously made me take the note out of my car because that is just ridiculous.  But that’s the kind of person I am.  That’s the way I regard my condition.  My life, fragile as it is, is worth less than someone else’s peace of mind. 

When I got into this accident, I let my insurance know of my bone disease.  I told them I’d need a check up, because I am prone to breakage and other related injuries.  Then I apologized to the girl who hit me.  I told her I was so sorry I was the one she hit.  

Sure, I did what I logically was supposed to do--collect my dues, get my statements in.  Make sure it was clear this wasn’t my fault.  But I somehow still felt guilty.  I did not once think ‘how unlucky of me, and my bone disease, to get it.’  I just felt sorry that she had to deal with hitting me.  In some ways, that’s empathy.  But in many ways, I can feel this internalized devaluement of myself simply because of my genetic disorder.

Every time I notice I still feel this way, it fucks with me.  This feeling has brought me to such dark places.  Dark places that I’ve normalized maybe too much.

Still, I felt a similar, ugly feeling when my roommates expressed concern if I was okay.  When my family panicked about my otherwise minor accident.  When my roommate spent 6 hours with me in the urgent care.  All I ever wanted was to not feel burdensome, and I have an incredible support system that really tried to make me feel not so.  I want to accept this love.  

Some messages I got growing up and some internalized ideas I have of myself. . . they’re hard to shake. I’m aware of them, though, and I’m trying to use my logic to fight that ugly feeling in my gut.  

II. This Hypervigilance.

I thankfully have not broken anything for thirteen years, have not had any bone-related surgery for ten, and have not had treatment for 7 years, it in some ways makes it harder.  The trouble with invisible disability is it’s hard for people to understand or take it seriously.  Often times, they assume you are more capable than you are. And in some ways, I am.  But in some ways, just by the definitions of my disease as well as the institutions of my society, I am just not.  

I think I have days where I don’t think about having a bone disease.  But I think even this days come with a higher level of anxiety, a higher level of vigilance, than the average person.  I am aware that my body functions differently, more dangerously.  I am aware that others around me do not know, and are often not as careful as they need to be, which makes me twice as careful for myself.  But this is a part of me, so I don’t have to actively think about it.  That doesn’t mean it doesn’t affect me.  It just means I’m used to it.  Even my pain tolerance. . . I don’t think the pain is absent.  I think I’m just far too used to pain to care.

But there’s always moments like this that jar me.  Since this accident, I've hyper aware of my disease playing out once more.  I was already imagining every time I broke something and how it compared.  I was keeping track of every movement, every symptom, so as not to aggravate any soreness further.  The whole night before, I couldn’t sleep.  I was terrified that this simple accident left me with compression fractures, hairline fractures, stress fractures, bone bruises. . . That my life would be derailed by xx months by yet another injury.  I still remember the days of tri-yearly breaks, and I am always aware that that is not a distant past, nor is it an unlikely future.

So I emailed my professor to tell him I wouldn’t be coming in, emailed my usual orthopedist for advice. . .  my anxiety was in overdrive. 

Meanwhile the roommate in the car with me at the time felt totally fine.  She was just worried about me.

I ended up getting a full work-up at the urgent care today.  I took 8 x-rays.  All of them came back with no fractures.  I missed class, barely got homework done. . . 

I can’t help but feel silly?  Because we waited six hours and came back with nothing.  But at the same time, I know why it’s so necessary to check. Because the truth is, if I’m used to the day to days of my disease, then I know better than anyone that things that are minuscule to others affect my body some type of way. 

But I guess the best way to sum up how I feel is that sometimes I think . . . I have no idea what it is to have a body that isn’t fragile.  I assume everything, every injury or pain is bone disease related. When really it might not be? It might be a symptom of being any type of person.  But because my disease is so volatile, I can’t afford to not check.  And even now, I am analyzing this entire car accident from the lens of my disability, when car accidents happen to all kinds of people daily.  But it’s all I know.  And I think/fear the day I am not aware of my bone disease, the day I let these thoughts slip away, is the day it will go sour for me.

My friend ended up saying that a person can’t afford to be guarded all the time.  And maybe that’s true.  But it broke my heart to hear that, because I can’t imagine a life where I am not constantly guarded, constantly aware.  But that also means other people have the luxury of not being able to imagine a life where they are constantly guarded, constantly aware.  A life where they can read their body honestly.  A life where they can trust their body and trust the world to be understanding of it.

I know it’s a moot concept, but I honestly wonder what that must feel like.  Because I can’t ever remember having that.  And I don’t know if I can afford to.

III. The Guilt

Why do i feel sorry for making this post?  Is it not honest?  Do I feel obligated to play into the happy-inspirational persona the world wants from me?

I feel guilty, like I shouldn’t be complaining.  That I should just be grateful where I’m not.  I feel guilty, like I’m putting people on blast for privileges they can’t help.  I feel guilty that I feel guilty, like I’m not being a good advocate or ally to myself.  I feel guilty that I might be poisoning my community.

But all of this, I know, is not true.

I’m not not proud of my disability.  I feel guilty, as if I’m not grateful, when I know for certain in my heart that I am so so immensely grateful for where I am.  I see myself not as a victim of circumstance, but as a survivor.  I am proud of the resiliency my disability has given me, the foresight, the resourcefulness.  

Today I even saw on the pamphlet that injuries like mine take an average of 8-12 weeks to heal and I thought bring it on. I’ve gone through worse and I’ll do it again.  It won’t stop me.

So why do I feel guilty for sharing my narrative? For sharing how difficult it can be?  For potentially making others uncomfortable?

Being “uncomfy” has made me into the person I am proud of today.  I think, as hard as this is for me, and for others to see. . . that’s why I made this blog.  Because discomfort has the potential to transform thoughts, ideas, feelings, and understanding.  And I hope, of course, small stories like mine, will change things for the better.

xx Scrump

p.s. I hope these ideas are coherent. If they’re a bit vague, I hope details of my story will fill in as I write my about page, and write future blogs. Thanks for reading~