#there would be no survivors but what a way to go out

[thewickedbohemian]

I'm not denying that there's any parallels (and I wasn't saying wait for a goddamn election) but the way some people are acting regarding the parallels there are you'd think that e.g. assassinating him wouldn't work because all the assassination attempts on Hitler failed (and even if one could work you could only choose from the strategies people attempted to use against Hitler as best as they could have American equivalents) or that if you have an ancestor who was a survivor and is your same gender and was your age or older when all that went down you are bound to experience the equivalents of the same shit they did like it's a fucking generational magic curse or that elephant imagery even in innocuous contexts would become as taboo as the swastika and a bunch of scientists will get recruited by another country's government which people might think would plant the seed for another repeat even if they just do things like help that country can into space etc. etc.

Again. I'm not denying parallels I'm just denying how fucking copy-paste people seem to think they're going to be (this is the same site that during his first term freaked out over a photo of kids at the border with numbers on their arms when if they'd actually read what accompanied the photo they'd know the numbers were not just written by the Mexican Red Cross but written in freaking Sharpie!) as doesn't it seem awfully convenient for them if we think history is so locked into repeating that we can't prevent the equivalent of the bad shit because we didn't stop it the first time

[quintessenceofdust88]

Life is Changin' Tides, ch. 4 🌊

[Ch. 1]

[Ch. 2]

[Ch. 3]

[Read on AO3]

Sal is exactly where Tommy left him; sitting up on the bed, a pained look on his face as he frantically looks around. "The second he spots Tommy and Vivie, his face is taken over with relief, and Tommy can see how desperately he wishes to get up, but he doesn't. He just grips the sheets, staring at them intensely, his face going from anxious to relieved.

"Vivie!" He exclaims, and Tommy's daughter raises her head so fast that he worries she’ll have whiplash."

-

Everyone reunites. There's a lot of apologizing. There's a little bit of oversharing (it's the painkiller's fault).

When Tommy wished for a guardian angel watching over Genevieve, he didn’t think the universe would take him so literally. Because this man, this Evan? With earnest big blue eyes, blond curls, a pink birthmark that looks almost like a heart against his eyebrow? Yeah, that’s an angel he’s looking at.

He doesn’t have much of a chance to look at him, though, because as soon as Tommy thanks him, the man promptly passes out in front of them.

“Buck!” Captain Nash exclaims in surprise, and extends his arms to support him. His eyes are furrowed in concern, and both Hen and Howie are also fussing over Evan. Tommy has never seen this man before, but it’s clear they all know and care about him.

Thankfully there’s an empty bed close, and Nash lays Evan in it with surprising gentleness, in a way that vaguely reminds Tommy of when he puts Vivie to bed. And speaking of which.

Tommy finally manages to stop hugging Genevieve for long enough that he can take a good look at her. Her beautiful yellow dress, a present from his Nonna, is filthy, covered in grime and dirt (thankfully no blood); her hair is matted and frizzy, escaping out of the pigtails Tommy’s done for her this morning, and she looks pale and exhausted. She’s still the most beautiful sight Tommy has ever laid his eyes upon, and he can’t get enough of looking at her.

“Vivie, oh my God, I was so worried!” He admits, placing a thousand kisses to her wet hair, her sweaty forehead, her flushed cheeks. “Are you okay, baby? Does anything hurt?” Tommy asks gently, checking her face and arms for bruises or cuts, but thankfully, probably thanks to this Evan angel, his baby girl looks perfectly unharmed.

“I’m fine, Daddy! But what happened to Mr. Evan?! Is he gonna be okay?!” She asks agitatedly, her arms firmly wrapped around Tommy’s neck. Her blue eyes are looking scaredly at Evan’s unconscious form, and Tommy rubs her back soothingly. Her grip around his neck tightens, seeking comfort that Tommy is more than happy to provide.

Howie, who looks a thousand times less worried once Hen hooks Evan up to a saline IV and it looks like he’ll be alright, rushes to them when he hears Vivie’s question. He smiles sweetly at her, and she smiles a little back at him.

“Hey, kiddo, don’t you worry about Buck, okay?” He tells her. “If I tell you a secret, do you promise not to tell him? Cause I don’t want his head getting too big.”

That gets a small giggle out of her, and Tommy would hug Howard if he didn’t have an armful of Genevieve. She nods eagerly, and looks curiously at the other man. Frankly, so does Tommy.

“Well, that guy?” He says, pointing at Evan, who still hasn’t woken up, but he’s lying peacefully now, his cheeks starting to get some flush in them. (God, he’s handsome, a treacherous part of Tommy’s brain says, and he promptly tells it to shut up). “Toughest guy I know. He survived a lot of crazy stuff, and he’ll be just fine, I promise.”

“For real?” She asks, and Howie nods as if he’s complete sure of himself.

“Totally for real.” He says, and winks at her. “He’s a survivor, just like your dad Tommy here.”

Tommy feels his cheeks flush, and he smiles gratefully at Howard. Vivie looks between them, curiosity clear in her face.

“You know my Daddy?! How?!” She asks in wonder, and Howie and Tommy smile at each other, but Howie points his hand at him, giving Tommy the chance to explain it to his kid.

“Actually, Vivie, mr. Howard here saved Daddy’s life once, can you believe it? Way before you were born.” He explains, and Vivie gasps.

“So mr. Howard is a hero too?!” She asks, notably impressed, and Howie shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck.

He’s saved from having to answer, though, because there is a man coming towards them with a boy, a bit older than Vivie, secure in his arms. The boy is looking at Evan, with eyes full of worry, and so is the man. With a jolt, Tommy recognizes him as the paramedic that was taking care of Sal earlier.

“Chim!”, the medic exclaims, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. He looks at Evan, who’s fidgeting slightly, but still has his eyes closed, and then back at Howie. “Is Buck alright?!”

“Will Buck be okay?!” The boy asks at the same time, his voice breaking as he sniffles.

His red hoodie is as dirty as Vivie’s clothes, and Tommy realizes he was probably caught in the tsunami too. He wonders briefly if the kid is Evan’s son, but then realizes he probably wouldn’t call him by a nickname if that was the case.

“Hey, Christopher, Buck will be fine, I promise.” Bobby is the one to answer, putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “He’s just a little tired right now. But you can sit by his side until he wakes up, what do you think?”

“Can I, dad?” Christopher asks, and the medic that’s holding him nods, then puts him down by Evan’s bed. He takes Evan’s hand in his, gently squeezing it. Hen gently takes the pair of glasses that are hanging from Buck’s neck and places them on the boy’s face, and he smiles at her.

The familiarity between them makes Tommy realize that his father, the medic that took care of Sal, is with the 118, and the coincidence leaves him speechless. What brings him back to reality is the small tug on his shirt, and as he looks at Vivie, he realizes she’s asking him to put her down. Tommy does, and she goes straight to Christopher with a small smile.

“You’re Christopher, right?” She asks, and the boy nods at her, a frown on his face. “Mr. Evan was worried that you’d be mad at him because he lost you. But you’re not, right?”

“No!” Christopher exclaims, as if the mere idea of being mad at Evan is absurd. “He was trying to help people, it wasn’t his fault!”

“I told him that!” Vivie exclaims triumphantly. “I said he was a hero, and that you wouldn’t be mad.”

“How do you know Buck?” Christopher asks her curiously.

“He saved me! When I got lost from…” She trails off, and her little blue eyes widen as if she’s just remembered something important. Vivie turns back to Tommy, and he sees in alarm that she’s on the verge of tears. “Daddy!”

“What, pixie? What’s the matter?” Tommy asks hurriedly, picking her up again and holding her close, but it’s no good, she’s still agitated, clutching his shirt in her tiny hand.

“Uncle Sal got hurt! We need to find him! I was s-so happy to see you that I forgot, but we need to find him! Mr. Evan was going to help me, but now he can’t, and I don’t want uncle Sal to get more hurt!” She sobs against his shoulder, and Tommy shushes her, rubbing circles on her back and bouncing her slightly.

“Baby, it’s alright, shh.” He whispers to her, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I found uncle Sal.”

She looks up at him, her sobs subsiding and her eyes widened in surprise.

“You did?!”

“Well, not me, but someone did and brought him here. But I’ve seen him, and he’s okay, I promise.” Tommy reassures her, and Vivie sobs once more, but it’s filled with relief this time.

“Daddy, do you promise? Can I see him?!” She asks, and Tommy nods right away.

“Of course you can, pixie. He’ll be so happy to see you.” He promises, and then turns to Howard, who’s been watching them with a fond smile. Tommy shifts Vivie so he can hold her with one arm and extends his hand for him. “Howie. Thank you so much. To all of you. I wouldn’t have found her if I hadn’t run into you” He says, looking at Captain Nash, Hen and the medic whose name he still doesn’t know.

“We’re just glad everything turned out okay, Tommy.” Captain Nash says warmly, and Tommy smiles at him.

Then, he looks at Evan’s still unconscious form on the bed, and back at the captain. He desperately wants to thank the man properly, but he knows Vivie won’t be settled until she sees Sal, and he knows his best friend is probably beside himself, wondering what’s happening to Tommy and her. Nash, however, seems to understand Tommy’s struggle, and nods at Tommy.

“Go. We’ll wait.” He reassures him, and Tommy nods gratefully at him.

“We’ll be back.” Tommy promises, and then he is gone, heading towards his best friend, his daughter safely in his arms thanks to the angel he’s leaving behind.

--

Buck doesn’t wake up all at once. Consciousness comes in small waves; at first he’s only aware of the sounds around him, the low murmur of familiar voices that allow him to come back slowly and steadily. Then, he becomes aware of the throbbing pain on his leg, which is stretched out. That’s how he realizes he’s lying down on scratchy sheets that feel very hospital-like (and yes, he wishes he wasn’t that familiar with what hospital sheets feel like). But as the events of the day come back to his memory, a sense of urgency forces him to full conscience, and his eyes open with a rush.

“Christopher! Genevieve!” Buck exclaims, and only when he tries to sit up on the bed does he feel the tug of a small warm hand against his.

“About time you woke up” Christopher says, and Buck looks at him with tear-filled eyes.

The young boy has his glasses back, and that signature smile that never fails to make Buck happy as well. He can’t understand why he’s still on the receiving end of it after everything that happened, though, or why Eddie is allowing Chris to be near him in the first place.

“Chris,” Buck says, sitting up on the bed, and taking Chris’ other hand in his. Because if this is the last time he’ll be allowed to be around him, he’s going to make it count. “Listen, buddy. I am so so sorry. I should have kept you safe, and I didn’t, and I…”

“Yeah, you did.” Chris argues, looking earnestly in Buck’s eyes, and he feels absolutely vulnerable under his gaze. “You kept me safe from the first wave, and you had me safe in the truck.”

“Yeah! But then I lost you!” He says, worried that Christopher is not understanding how bad Buck screwed up.

“Well, yeah, but you looked for me. A lot. Vivie told me. And she told me you thought I’d be mad, but I’m not. You’re still my favorite grown-up, Buck.”

Chris’ words and the way he’s looking back at Buck, like he’s still a hero, like Buck didn’t fail him, are too much. Buck blinks, trying to keep the tears at bay, but he can’t; the day has been too rough. Chris, however, seems to sense Buck’s emotions are getting the best of him; he wraps his small arms around Buck’s waist, resting his head against Buck’s chest. Buck hugs him back, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his curls.

“Thank you, bud. I’m so glad you’re safe.” He whispers, and Chris just hums at him.

“‘Favorite grown-up’, huh? I’m kinda jealous, gotta admit.”

When Buck hears Eddie’s voice, he lets go of Chris and looks up at his best friend, bracing himself for the anger in his eyes. But Eddie is smiling playfully at them, his posture relaxed. As Buck looks around, he faintly notices Hen and Bobby hovering near him, but he can’t talk to them before he apologizes to Eddie; that has to be his priority.

“Eddie! I am so sorry, man, I can’t even begin to…”

“Then don’t.” Eddie says softly, placing a hand on Buck’s shoulder and squeezing it. “Don’t even begin, because you have nothing to apologize for. He’s here, and he’s safe, and that’s all that matters, alright?”

Buck can’t take Eddie’s forgiveness yet, not entirely anyway. There’s still too much guilt pooling on his chest, so he decides to focus on something else.

“And Genevieve? Where is she?” He asks, looking around and not seeing either Genevieve or her father. He tries not to be disappointed by the fact they’re gone; he’d have liked to say goodbye.

“Tommy took her to see her uncle Sal, but they’ll be back.” Bobby tells him, and Buck looks at him in surprise at the amount of information in that short sentence.

“You know her dad’s name?!” It’s the first thing he registers, and then the rest of Bobby’s sentence sinks in. “Wait, you found her uncle?! Is he okay? Is he alive?!”

“Calm down before you pass out again, please.” Bobby asks calmly, and then he sits at Buck’s side, his eyes alternating between Buck and the IV still hooked up to his arm. The captain looks weary and relieved at the same time. “As it turns out, the little girl you were helping is the daughter of a former 118 guy, Tommy Kinard. He’s a pilot at Harbor station now. And Sal, her uncle, is his best friend. He used to work with us too, a long time ago. He’s hurt his head pretty bad, but he’s alright”

“Oh thank God. She was so worried.” Buck says, relaxing back against the pillow. Eddie has taken Chris and they are sitting on a stool next to his bed, cuddling together in silence. That fills Buck with relief, and he sighs, closing his eyes for a bit.

He’s still exhausted, and the dull throbbing in his leg is intensifying into stabs of sharp pain. Buck forced his body to the limit, and now he’s paying the price, but he can’t regret it. Not when Chris and Vivie are reunited with their dads.

Before he can voice his discomfort, though, he sees Chimney jogging towards them. He smiles when he sees Buck is awake, and promptly shoves a water bottle and a cereal bar into his hands.

“Welcome to the land of the living, Buckaroo.” He says, patting his shoulder gently. “Eat something, or Maddie will kill us both.”

“Thanks, Chim” He says hoarsely, sitting up on the bed..

Buck eagerly opens the bottle first, taking a big sip and sighing as it eases the pain on his sore throat. As he takes a small bite of the cereal bar, easing his hunger and thirst, his leg decides it’s done waiting for attention. The pain intensifies, and Buck can’t help but flinch a movement that is quickly caught by Hen’s sharp gaze.

“Alright, Buckaroo, finish your snack so we can get some painkillers into your system.” She asks, and Buck, who’d usually stubbornly reject the idea of using painkillers, especially the strong ones that help his leg, just nods meekly; he’s in too much pain. “And then I think you should take it very easy the next few days. It wasn’t your fault, but you pushed yourself way too hard today.”

“Hen’s right, kid.” Bobby adds gently. “Once the painkillers kick in, we’ll take you home, and then you can get some rest, ok?”

Getting some rest sounds wonderful in Buck’s opinion, and he nods at them both, his mouth too occupied with chewing. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until now.

“Not so fast, Cap.” Chim quips, and inexplicably smirks at Buck. “He can’t go anywhere before Tommy and Vivie come back and he gets to play the hero.”

Buck blushes at that, but he can’t help a small smile from coming to his lips at knowing Genevieve and her father are coming back. And, with a small leap in his heart, he thinks that his giddiness isn’t entirely about Vivie.

But he’s wise enough to keep that thought to himself.

--

Tommy crosses the field hospital with quick strides, Vivie's small frame a comforting weight in his arms. As they walk around, he notices that things are calming down; there are fewer people around, the doctors and nurses don't seem to be rushing so much, and the overall chaos is more controlled.

Things are settling down, as they usually do after a big tragedy, and Tommy privately thinks they’ll only see how bad it was on the next day. He sends a silent thought for all the people who didn’t have the luck he did, of finding the loved ones they lost to the waves.

Sal is exactly where Tommy left him; sitting up on the bed, a pained look on his face as he frantically looks around. The second he spots Tommy and Vivie, his face is taken over with relief, and Tommy can see how desperately he wishes to get up, but he doesn't. He just grips the sheets, staring at them intensely, his face going from anxious to relieved.

"Vivie!" He exclaims, and Tommy's daughter raises her head so fast that he worries she’ll have whiplash.

The minute she sees Sal, she gasps loudly, and her little hand curls up in Tommy’s shirt, gripping it tightly. Vivie’s staring at Sal as if he isn’t real, as if she’s trying to convince herself that he is.

"UNCLE SAL!" Genevieve's exclamation can be heard through the whole hospital, and she tugs insistently at Tommy's shirt. "Daddy, daddy, put me down, please!", she begs, and Tommy is more than happy to abide.

The second her feet hit the floor, she's rushing to Sal's bed, climbing up on it as fast as her little legs allow. Sal wraps his arms around her, pulling Genevieve to his lap and holding her close. Her arms wrap around his neck, and they hug each other tightly. Tommy can see the tension leaving Sal’s shoulders as he wraps his daughter in his strong arms, and his own heartbeat seems to finally settle as he sees them together.

“Vivie, oh my God! I was so worried, kiddo, so worried!” Sal says, his voice thick with emotion like Tommy’s never seen before.

“Me too, uncle Sal!” Vivie says, and then she looks at him, her eyes filled with tears. “Cause you got really hurt, and then I didn’t see you anymore, and I was so afraid!”

It’s clear that all the events of the day are finally catching up to Genevieve, and she lets out a broken sob, her whole body shaking with it. Tommy’s first instinct is to jump in and get her in his arms so he can comfort her, but he holds back. That’s not what Vivie needs; she needs reassurance from the uncle she almost lost, not from him. And he trusts Sal to do it.

“Hey, hey, shh” Sal soothes her gently. “I’m here, you don’t have to be afraid, kiddo.”

He picks Vivie up, sitting her on his lap, pressing her head against his chest. She clutches his filthy Ramones T-shirt in her tiny fist, and Sal runs one massive hand in her hair, messing it up even further. They’ll wash and braid it again when he puts her to bed, which will happen about a thousand hours later than it should, but he couldn’t care less.

“It was scary…” She admits, her voice a tiny whisper, and Tommy’s heart breaks for her.

Genevieve has always been his brave little girl; the only fear she’s ever had was the dark. Tommy has been able to protect her from that, putting a night light in her bedroom, letting her sleep with him when it gets too bad. But will he be able to protect her from this? From the fear of water, fear of the sea, from the nightmares that she’ll get from this? He doesn’t know, and the thought scares him.

“I know, kiddo.” Sal tells her, bringing Tommy back to the present. “It was scary to me too.”

“I r-really thought I wouldn’t see you anymore, uncle Sal.” She tells him, and Sal exchanges a helpless look with Tommy.

Neither of them wanted her to learn what losing someone feels like, and Tommy would have given anything for his daughter not to have this experience. But it’s happened, and now all they can do is reassure her that everything turned out okay in the end.

Sal takes a deep sigh, and then presses a long kiss to Vivie’s forehead. Tommy can see his eyes are filled with tears, but he does his best to swallow them and smile at the little girl on his lap. “What, and leave all the fun of watching you grow up to your boring dad? No way, kiddo.”

Genevieve lets out a watery giggle at that, looking from Sal to Tommy. “Daddy, uncle Sal said you’re boring!” She gasps, and Tommy smiles wryly, coming closer to them.

“I heard it, baby. Maybe we should let Uncle Sal go home on foot, then? He won’t want a ride with someone this boring after all.”

“Nah, I’ll take it the ride. Even if you’re boring, Vivie is cool.” Sal teases, Sal teases, which makes Vivie giggle in delight and Tommy smack his shoulder (a lot more lightly than he normally would). Then, his expression turns serious, and he looks earnestly at his best friend.

“Tommy. I am sorry, man. I am so sorry.” He says, and Tommy can see he’s about to cry again. Without a word, he wraps his arms firmly around Sal, Vivie caught between them, and hugs his best friend tightly.

“I know. You don’t have to be. What matters to me is that you’re both okay.” Tommy says, and he means every word. Sal pats his back and nods at him when Tommy finishes the hug.

He sits by the edge of Sal’s bed, and Vivie scrambles from Sal’s lap to his, cuddling up against his chest. Her body is heavy against his, exhaustion catching up to her. He holds her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“How are you feeling, man?” Tommy asks, and Sal smirks at him.

“Like I’ve been hit in the head by debris.” He quips, and Tommy glares at him until he shrugs. “Look, I think I’ll be worse in the morning. They gave me good stuff for the pain, so I won’t feel it for real until tomorrow.”

“Yeah, well, it’d make me a hell lot more comfortable if you spent the night with us. I don’t want you going home alone.” Tommy says, and Sal rolls his eyes, poking Vivie’s arm.

“Your dad is such a mother hen, isn’t he?” He teases, and the little girl giggles. Tommy loves that sound more than anything in the world. “But okay, I think a sleepover sounds fun.”

“Sleepover!” Vivie celebrates, making Tommy and Sal chuckle. Then Sal frowns, as if he remembered something, and a sad expression takes over his face.

“Aw, kiddo, and I still owe you a unicorn, don’t I? Can’t believe we went through all that trouble and you didn’t get him in the end.”

Vivie gasps at that, kneeling on the bed and covering her mouth with her tiny hands. She looks from Tommy to Sal and then to the floor, her eyes widening.

“No, uncle Sal, but I did get him! I protected Marsh, but I forgot him with Mr. Evan! Daddy, we have to go back to your firefighter friends and get him back!”

“We will, baby. Daddy wants to thank mr. Evan anyway.” Tommy reassures her, and Sal frowns at him.

“Mr. Evan? ‘Firefighter friends’? The hell she is talking about, Tommy?” He asks, and Tommy refrains himself from scolding him for saying ‘hell’ in front of Vivie, because she doesn’t seem to pay much attention.

Tommy smirks, already anticipating Sal’s reaction to knowing it was Nash’s team that got Tommy to Vivie. “So, you’re never gonna believe this…”

--

After telling the whole story to Sal and telling him to stay put until Tommy comes for him (‘What, you think I wanna get up and go give Nash a hug and a cupcake? I’m better off here, thanks’), Tommy takes Vivie back to where the 118 was gathered around Evan’s bed.

Sal, who’s much better at keeping up with LAFD gossip than Tommy, has already informed him that Evan is the firefighter who got caught under the ladder truck a few months ago, and that only makes Tommy admire the man even more. He can only imagine how painful it must have been, walking around with a kid all day with his leg still recovering from such a trauma.

When they get there, they’re greeted by the sound of laughter, and the bed is surrounded by Nash, Howie and Hen. The medic - Eddie, according to Sal - is sitting on a stool, with his kid asleep against his chest. They’re all looking at Evan with exasperated fondness and soft smiles.

Evan himself is leaning against the pillow, his leg stretched out in front of him. His cheeks are flushed, and he doesn’t look as exhausted anymore, but his blue eyes are hazy and his smile is a little loopy. Even so, Tommy can’t help but notice he is absolutely gorgeous, and that his earlier comparison to an angel was not too out there; Evan has positively cherubic features, and the fact that he has his arms wrapped around an unicorn plushie only adds to his charm.

“Marsh!” Vivie exclaims the minute she spots the plushie, and everyone turns to them.

Tommy smiles at them in greeting as Vivie tugs on his T-shirt to let her down. Tommy does, and she rushes to Evan’s bed, stopping herself before climbing in it and looking at him shyly. Evan, however, smiles at her, bright and welcoming, and Tommy’s heart skips a treacherous beat. Get a grip, Kinard, you can’t lose it just because he is kind to your kid. He’s probably straight anyway, he tells himself firmly, but his eyes are still taking in the charming scene unfolding in front of him.

“C’mere, Vivie.” Evan says, and it’s the first time Tommy’s hearing his voice. It’s warm, and cheery, even though his speech is a little slurred, probably from everything that happened.

He pats the mattress next to him, and Genevieve doesn’t need to be told twice. She climbs up on the bed, and Evan offers the unicorn to her. “Your friend was missing you, you know?”, he tells her with a lovely smile.

“You kept him safe for me, Mr. Evan! Thank you!” She says in wonder, hugging the plushie close to her chest. Then, she looks at Evan, and puts the plushie aside, kneeling on the bed and wrapping her arms around his neck, pressing her cheek against his flushed one. “And thank you for keeping me safe. You made things not so scary, and you helped me find Uncle Sal.”

It’s clear the heartfelt thanks from the five-year-old takes Evan off-guard, and he’s slow on his reaction. Still, he wraps his arms around her, closing his eyes in delight, gently stroking her hair.

“You’re quite welcome, baby. Having you with me made things not so scary too, so thank you. For helping me to get here.”

The others are all watching the scene with a mix of fondness and amusement. Tommy himself could forever stand there and watch this ridiculously adorable man interact with his kid, but he can’t; he has his own thanks to give. He approaches the bed slowly, and both Vivie and Evan look up at him. His daughter promptly holds the unicorn up so Tommy can see it. It’s wet, and filthy, but he guesses it’s still sort of cute.

“Look, Daddy, this is Marsh! Uncle Sal got him for me!” She tells him excitedly, and Tommy chuckles, bending down to kiss her forehead.

“Marsh looks like a great addition to your plushie friends, baby. He’ll probably look even better after we give him a bath.” He muses, and Vivie giggles, going back to stroke the plushie’s fur gently.

What surprises Tommy, though, and apparently everyone else, is that Evan giggles right along. Tommy refuses to acknowledge how adorable it is to see this 6-foot-2 man giggling along with his five-year-old.

“Isn’t that funny, though? A unicorn taking a bath? It should be a glitter bath at least.” He says, and then laughs at his own joke. His friends are looking at him in amusement, and Hen crosses her arms, smirking.

“I guess the painkillers are kicking in, huh, Buckaroo?” She says fondly, and Evan tries to handwave her, but the gesture is a tad bit clumsy.

“M’fine!” He exclaims, and then he runs a hand on Vivie’s plushie, looking at it in wonder. “Oh my God, he is so soft! Eddie, have you ever seen a softer plushie?”

Eddie snickers, and so does Chimney. Bobby is staring at Evan with a mixture of exasperation and fondness. And Tommy? Tommy is trying very hard not to melt from the sheer cuteness.

“Tommy, if you have anything to say to him, I think you should say it now, before we completely lose him.” Chim recommends with a chuckle, and Tommy startles. He does have something to say.

He turns to Evan, and the man has a loopy smile on his face, looking at Tommy with hazy eyes filled with something that he can’t quite define, but it makes Tommy blush furiously. He fidgets with the hem of his shirt, and forces himself to look the man in the eye.

“Mr. Evan”, he starts, and the man frowns, as if something isn’t quite right about that greeting.

“No mister. You can call me...” He trails off, as if he’s looking for the right word, and then he smiles at Tommy as if he’s had the brightest idea ever. “Evan! Yeah! You can totally call me Evan.”

“Evan, then. I’m Tommy. Tommy Kinard.” He says, offering a hand, and Evan shakes it.

His hand is warm against Tommy’s, even if his handshake is a little wobbly. The moment they touch, Tommy feels as if a spark of electricity rushes through him, as cliché as that sounds. Evan must feel it too, because he looks up at Tommy with raised eyebrows.

“I know, Bobby said. I’m your re… re… Ah, it’s a big word, but I entered the 118 when you left. Small world, huh?” He says, with a tiny frown between his eyebrows as if he’s trying to make sense of it, and Tommy has an irrational urge to kiss it away. He doesn’t, but it’s a near thing.

“Very.” Tommy agrees, and then he sits down by Evan’s side. Even if he’s not entirely aware of what’s going on, Tommy needs to thank him. “Evan, I will never be able to thank you enough for what you did. Vivie is my life, and you saved her. There are no words to express how grateful I am.”

Evan seems to take a while to process his words, but then he shrugs modestly. He looks down at Vivie and tries for a wink, but it comes off as more of a sleepy blink. Tommy’s daughter giggles anyway, holding Marsh close to her chest.

“Ah, you don’t have to thank me, you know?” He slurs. “I did what everyone would do.”

“No, you didn’t.You did way more. You kept her safe, and you protected her, and you brought her to find her uncle.” Tommy tells him firmly, taking his hand in his and squeezing it. He tries to ignore the goosebumps it brings to his arms. “I owe you a debt that can never be repaid. But if there is anything I can do for you, ever, you just have to say the word.”

Evan nods, but stays silent. His hand is still wrapped around Tommy’s, and he looks down at them for a moment. Then he looks back at Tommy, his blue eyes determined.

“I mean, you could ask me out!” He exclaims, and everyone turns at him, eyes widened, including Tommy. He’s so surprised he doesn’t remember to separate their hands.

“I… I could… W-what?” Tommy asks, sputtering and feeling a blush covering his cheeks and all the way down to his neck (nice going, you idiot). It doesn’t help that half his former team is watching it with smirks on their faces.

“You could ask me out!” Evan repeats it, his brows furrowing as if he can’t quite understand what’s giving Tommy pause. “You’re ridiculously gorgeous, you know that? I’d say yes if you asked me out.”

Tommy is left completely speechless and wishing that the floor would swallow him whole. Captain Nash is looking at Evan with that same fatherly exasperation of before, and Eddie and Howie are shaking with silent laughter. Not even Vivie helps; the minute Evan says he’s gorgeous, her daughter starts giggling uncontrollably, looking between them with way too much amusement. Hen is the only one who seems to take pity on the two of them, because she puts a hand on Buck’s shoulder.

“Alright, Buckaroo, that’s enough out of you! Why don’t you try and get some sleep?”

“Can’t sleep, Hen, I’m going out with the hot pilot. Weren’t you paying attention?” He grumbles, but as Hen helps him lay back, he closes his eyes, resting back against the pillow with a soft sigh.

Tommy is flustered, and shocked, and impossibly endeared. He wants to ask Evan out, he wants to do it now, but he won’t hold a man accountable for things he said under heavy painkillers.

“Daddy, are you going out with mr. Evan?” Vivie asks, and Tommy, if possible, blushes even more. He takes one more look at Evan’s face, eyes closed and a small smile still playing on his lips, and he desperately wishes to tell her that yes, he will.

“I… No, baby. Mr. Evan didn’t really mean it, he’s just sleepy. It’s like when you say silly things in your sleep, remember?” He tells her, and she nods, but looks absolutely disappointed. “Besides, we have to pick up uncle Sal and go home, don’t we? It’s way past your bedtime. Say goodbye to everyone and let’s go.”

She does as she’s told, sparing a hug for everyone and making Eddie promise she and Chris will have a playdate soon (Tommy actually likes the idea; Vivie has plenty of friends, but she could always do with more). He agrees to set it up and says his own goodbyes, shaking everyone’s hands. When it comes to Chimney’s turn, though, he smirks at Tommy and slips a paper into his pocket.

“Here’s Buck’s number and address. You know, just in case you wanna check if he meant it or was just being silly.” He says with a knowing smirk, and Tommy looks at him in surprise. Howie shrugs, and then goes back to talking to Hen.

And Tommy should throw the paper away, he really should. Evan is probably straight; Tommy has a daughter and hasn’t really dated in years. Everything tells him this is not a good idea.

He folds it carefully in his pocket anyway.

Tag list:

@bidisasterevankinard @unhingedangstaddict @silversky9 @music-is-the-voice-of-the-soul @asmugfirefighter

@typicalopposite @littlepaws9 @aplaceinme @rubydaiquiri @racerchix21

@dearqueend @laundryandtaxesworld @buckleyskinards @actuallyitsellie

@agentpeggycartering @chaoticdisasterbi

@deelovesbooks @teabroomsandbooks

[mademoiselle-red]

People have been very focused on analyzing Lu Guang’s involvement in Vein’s “death” but there is one detail that I haven’t seen much discussion on.

Wang Qing hates Vein.

Lu Guang looks at Vein with coldly murderous eyes. Mrs. Shao is alarmed by Vein’s attempt to take the notebook but she doesn’t know who he is, and she doesn’t seem to have a personal grudge against him. But once Wang Qing is back in her own body and sees Vein taking the notebook, she recognizes him and is furious. Her facial expression and eyes go batshit and she screams his name with such anger and hatred.

But! When Vein entered the room and saw Wang Qing, he didn’t seem to know her. She is just the target he was supposed to find in order to retrieve an object for his client (presumably Liu Xiao). He didn’t even have a name or photo for her, just a burnt student ID, and had to rely on CXS and Lu Guang to give him her name when asking him to help them find her.

So why does Wang Qing know Vein but he doesn’t know her?

Why does she hate him so much?

(Sure, any person would be mad if they woke up battered and beaten by some random stranger, but she seems to really hate his guts)

So I have a theory:

What if the notebook was supposed to be a trap?

Here is Wang Qing’s (possible) POV: She survives the fire with her teacher’s notebook in her possession. Her teacher is presumed dead. She is visited in the hospital by her teacher’s widow, Ms. Shao . She tells Wang Qing to take a photo of CXS if he ever visits her. Wang Qing does what she is told and at some point in the future, gives Mrs. Shao the photo so she can dive back to possess her.

Mrs. Shao knows exactly where Cheng Weimin’s notebook is kept in Wang Qing’s office. So they must have both agreed at an earlier time for Wang Qing to hide it there in her office in Yingdu instead of letting Mrs Shao keep it with her, wherever she is.

So why is Mrs. Shao taking out the notebook now, right after Vein shows up asking for it?

Two possible reasons:

1) Mrs. Shao doesn’t know Vein, but knows he wants the notebook and has found his way to Wang Qing, so she wants to take it with her now and transfer it to a safer location

2) Mrs. Shao is trying to save her husband and Wang Qing is trying to find the culprit behind the fire. They team up because their goals are somewhat aligned. They suspect the culprit was after Cheng Weimin’s secrets and will try to track down Cheng Weimin’s notebook via the only survivor of the fire. So Wang Qing decides to use herself as bait.

I like possibility #2 because this partially explains why Vein does not appear to know Wang Qing, but Wang Qing knows him and looks at him with even more intense hatred than Lu Guang. Because if the notebook is a bait for the culprit, then Wang Qing has reason to believe whoever comes for the notebook is the culprit, and when she sees someone she knows come for the notebook, she thinks she has her answer now and is ready for revenge.

And this also aligns with what she says to CXS before she gets possessed by Mrs. Shao: “You are the detective, CXS.” Because he is the one who is supposed to find the culprit for her. And what happens as soon as she opens her eyes in her own body again? The “culprit” caught red handed with the notebook.

(But this is very probably a big misunderstanding because Vein was hired by his client —presumably Liu Xiao —to find the notebook. So far, there are no indications that he was involved in the fire. And my theory still doesn’t explain how Wang Qing knows and recognizes him but he doesn’t know her)

[archivewriter1ont]

Shep-Centric Thoughts...

I'm plotting out a Shep-centric fic and I have come to the conclusion that this man is amazing, awesome, and doesn't get enough attention in the fandom.

Bullet points on why below...

One: His relationship with Phee.

Are they actually, biologically related? Was she instrumental in helping him and Lyana find Pabu, this safe place away from the Empire? Has she saved his and his daughter's life and now he feels like she's the greatest person ever? Was she a stray he found with a bullet wound in her side and a machete sword in her hand, snarling and snapping until he and Lyana "tamed" her? We don't know...but we're durn sure they're close and that for all anyone knows, they're family through and through.

Two: His willingness to accept Phee's friends.

Now, Phee might have called ahead to tell our friendly mayor that she was bringing friends, but even if she did Shep is so freaking welcoming. He doesn't ask how or why she came into sudden possession of three muscley ex-commandos and a smol danger child but you know what? He doesn't really care either. They're Phee's friends and so they're his friends, full stop.

Three: His eagerness to make the Batch feel accepted.

Throughout his scenes, Shep is going out of his way to make the Batchers feel safe and at home on Pabu. I ADORE that he seems to give extra attention to Hunter, who has the hardest time adjusting to a non-combat life and who is constantly on edge regarding the safety of those around him. Shep is also a leader in a way, so I feel like he understands a little of where Hunter is coming from, but because he's a normal human, he recognizes that Hunter's obsession with keeping what is left of his broken family together is breaking the sergeant. Because his accelerated life has been spent as an experimental soldier who may or may not see tomorrow and who must constantly be on guard, Hunter doesn't know how to be safe. He can't accept it because it goes against his very DNA. I think Shep clocks that and is trying to reassure the tracker that he can relax on Pabu - -that they're not threats, but also that Hunter and his brothers and sister are not a threat to the Pabuans, either.

Four: His insistence that they stay.

Shep isn't blind and I'm sure that little things reveal to him that the Batchers have all had very rough lives. Instead of pushing them away and being unwilling to take on their issues, Shep is completely sincere in wanting them to stay on Pabu, to build a new life for themselves despite what they've already been through.

When Wrecker says he's never full, what does that trigger in Shep's mind? I think he would instantly realize that these are survivors, but because he's around them, watching them, he also notices that just because they know how to survive doesn't know they know how to actually live. The Batchers are still adjusting to not being soldiers and now they're fugitives, castaways. Even before the war ended, they were experiments and viewed as canon fodder, created for a war that they didn't get to choose to fight. But more than pitying them, I think Shep would just be that much more eager to set their minds at ease and help them adapt to civilian life. That's certainly what he seems to be doing in the buildup to Season Three.

And now we just have some more pics because I love Shep so much.

[kagaintheskywithdiamonds]

What if when the memory gun was used on Stan, it took more than just his memories?

Like we all know that overuse of the memory gun comes with some pretty bad side effects. Stan was never subjected to frequent, repeated use of the gun the way Fiddleford was, but he was subjected to a crazy high dose of it, for lack of a better term. That gun was designed to help people forget their traumas, not their entire pasts, so I don't think it was ever really intended to erase that much in one go. And when erasing that much data, so to speak, I feel like there's bound to be collateral damage. That's like trying to purge your hard drive and you accidentally delete system 32.

What if Stan, post-memory-wipe, dealt with symptoms like brain fog, dizziness, lack of coordination, speech aphasia - and maybe stuff like paranoia, delusions, and hallucinations. Stan's living a waking nightmare. He doesn't remember who he is and he can't make sense of what's going on around him. His body feels slow and clumsy like a video game where the controls are only half-working. Maybe his emotions aren't working right, either. He gets irrationally angry or scared over absolutely nothing. He tries to explain what's wrong but the words coming out of his mouth don't match the words in his head. No one understands him, least of all himself.

Meanwhile Ford is watching his brother deal with symptoms that would be typical of stroke survivors and dementia patients, and wracked with guilt because he did this to Stanley. He's directly responsible for Stan's brain damage. He fried his brother's brain until there was nothing left but this scared, confused husk of a man.

[litnerdwrites]

Yes to all of this. 100% Yes!

And to add on, I think Feyre ended up getting exactly what she wanted.

She got upset about the whole 'no such thing as a high lady' thing, in a conversation she started by stating how the title of High Lady made her uncomfortable. Between this and the way she chants in her head, while opening gifts, praying that they aren't crowns, imply that the idea of having equal authority and political power upset her. However, what Feyre did want, was to paint, help rebuild after the devastation of Amarantha's reign, and not be stuck indoors all the time.

There were a couple problems with each of her desires though. Her trauma reaction prevented her from doing things she enjoyed, due to both survivors guilt and a associating red with blood. Going out was dangerous, due to her unstable powers, the instability of the court, and the risk of Hybern/others coming after her (remember that she's untrained in both magic, and fighting, still trying to become properly accustomed to her fae body and new lifestyle, and panics at the sight of anything resembling blood, which probably would include actual blood). All of these are valid concerns, but Feyre's desires a valid too. It was up to her and Tamlin to communicate, grow their relationship, and try to find solutions, alternatives, and otherwise attempt to move forward together, while supporting each other, setting healthy boundaries, and making their expectations clear. If it couldn't work out, or they weren't meshing, then they should've broken up amicably.

But this post isn't about their communication issues.

Stepping back, I think what Feyre wants is power without the responsibility or drawbacks.

She wants to have her say in politics, or matters regarding the court, when she feels like it, but refuses to acknowledge the political ramifications of marrying The High Lord of Spring, being the woman who broke Amarantha's Curse, and having the powers of all seven HLs after being resurrected by them. She wants to be Tamlin's equal in every way, but when it comes to the idea of equal political status, she expresses discomfort. She wants power equal to his, without the title. Yet, she refuses to acknowledge or even deal with or learn more about the political ramifications of her circumstances.

Feyre laments her circumstances, but doesn't make an effort to educate herself about them. She never tries to learn how to read or ask about the laws of the Spring Court. She's upset when people cite that there are rules and traditions she and they need to follow, but makes no effort to learn them in any capacity, so she might understand her situation, and take action accordingly. Instead, she shows open disdain for those rules and traditions, without properly trying to communicate her problem, leaving her looking like a toddler.

Now, Velaris is the opposite of this.

There's no danger because no one knows it exists.

There's no distance between her and the people because they've spent centuries living next door to their ruler and his inner court, and can see him regularly when he hosts those meet & greets where his people raise their issues to him.

They aren't bombarding her with their gratitude because, a) It was the spring Court that was cursed, and b) The only issues Velaris saw, from what we can tell, was no trade, meaning no spices. It's clear that the area warded was large enough to not only encompass the city, but enough farmland to feed the entire population for fifty years, otherwise having very little over all impact on their quality of life.

Velaris has been protected on the blood of Illyria and the Hewn City, facing little to no significant changes in their lifestyles as a result. Both during war, and under Amarantha.

The political climate of the Velaris is not only stable, but has no impact on other courts, nor does it draw the eye of foreign nations because, again, nobody knows it exists. Feyre can do what she wants, because there's little consequence in doing so, while in Velaris. If Feyre fucks up political matters, it isn't going to have many ramifications, because the citizens will just laugh it off and carry on with their day.

If she uses her powers, before the other HLs learn about them, she doesn't have to worry about being spied on, anyone learning about them, because it doesn't matter in Velaris. If she wants to spend time painting at a studio in town, or volunteering, there's no risk of her life being in danger, because nobody knows this city exists. If anyone is looking for her, they will probably check either The Hewn City, Illyria, or any other small towns/villiages/cities that may exist because nobody suspects that there's a secret other city.

Meanwhile, none of those factors can be applied to the Spring Court, because while there, all eyes are on her and there would be ramifications to her actions.

It makes sense Feyre becomes High Lady in Velaris, because it means nothing. It requires nothing from her. There's little weight on her shoulders, and being uneducated isn't an issue because there's nobody around to critique her or how much/little she works. To the citizens, she's more like a neighbour, and we have no evidence that any of them leave Velaris at all, so we can assume they haven't personally seen the other two thirds of their court. With that in mind, what have they got to compare her or Rhys to, given the luxury they live in.

Of course she doesn't do High Lady duties. She doesn't have any, and if she did, they wouldn't matter. It's not like they look after anywhere other than Velaris anyway.

In regards to Nesta, I agree that she isn't able to rule either, but she has the most potential. It's important to understand that when we're told that Nesta was 'raised to marry a prince', it doesn't mean she's versed in politics. At least not more than is necessary for social gatherings. Aside from birthing heirs, and possibly hosting events, a Princess or Queen would be responsible for managing the household, meaning Nesta was likely raised to do just that. When they got their wealth back, it was likely her running and managing the household, especially while her father was away.

Ultimately, Nesta's education didn't give her the skills a politition would need, she has the most potential to learn, and even without that, I still think she'd do a better job than Feyre. At the very least, she can read, and has the initiative to go learn how to do it, if she doesn't know.

doesn’t surprise me feyre doesn’t do her high lady duties and she only brings it up for her own interests bc remember how much she brought up tamlin not making her a high lady?

tamlin would have made her his lady, same duties now she is doing now except her title has “high” word in it

“tamlin never saw me as his equal” bc your not! you don’t even know the basics of fae world!

tamlin not seeing feyre his equal for position of ruling does not mean he didn’t love or value her

it’s most likely tamlin thought they had all the time in the world now and he would teach her as they’d go

and is like what’s wrong with that?? some self reflection would go a long way feyre

she isn’t educated

she knows nothing about the faes or lands

has no training in politics

has no idea how to behave at court

she knows nothing

feyre had no reason to believe she is worthy of being tamlin’s or anyone’s equal in a position of leadership over a court

all she did was free tamlin, who then killed amarantha

if she believes it should be bc of love like honey, that’s not how it works. again it shows she has no knowledge of the land, of fae and the world of power

if it was human lands and politics then it’d make sense, they don’t follow magic bound laws

does that mean kallias sees viviane, who was in charge while he was UtM, as weak? no

if feyre wants to hate tamlin for not teaching her anything like girl at first u didn’t care about it and then u were traumatised and whisked away to nc, when was he suppose to teach u??

even if we ignore magic choosing the ruler rule….

she married a high lord and got her title, but she hasn’t earned it

it would be one thing if she worked after getting it through marriage but she hasn’t. all she did was destroy a court, attack lady autumn, look down on her citizens like her mate and opened a paint studio like?? that’s not ruling

“i’m the high lady of night court, i can do as i please” but u can’t honey, that’s not how it works

it’s a title she shows off but she doesn’t do the job it requires, and i don’t see how she is respected for it- for being a high lady

feyre hasn’t earned the title of being a high lady

she hadn’t even earned a position of power or a position in a court

for nesta, i don’t believe she’s ready nor has earned a title of a ruler either, but she is educated enough to be a part of a court

nesta was meant to married for power but it’s feyre who actually did

looking back, it’s crazy how much tamlin not naming her a high lady bothered her and she did no self reflection on it

[inkedinfusions]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐞𝐲 | eren jaeger chapter 13

⊱𖣂⊰ | In which you fall into a fictional world with the key to Pandora's box.

── ★ ˙ ̟ . 🗝 .ᐟ.ᐟ masterlist

⊰– prev   next–⊱

𝟏𝟑 | 𝐭𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧

chapter word count: 3.1k

content warnings: blanket warnings

a/n: Hi! So sorry for the delay lol, the semester started and it Is Going. This chapter was like the last one: unplanned!! Idk if yall remember, but Paradis holds a meeting between the military and the queen when the Volunteers first arrive, and our dear Y/n will make her appeal there. That was supposed to be chapter 12, but as you can see, that didn't happen oops. So! Im now one hundred percent sure that will be next chapter and the next one after that will be a filler slash relationship building chapter with our favorite angry boy yay! Also its my birthday yayyyy 

Thanks for reading!

���𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 being proven wrong as you approach, and you realize that the gate is not yet repaired. There is no splintered wood nor crumbling rock to serve as evidence of the invasion carried out by the Armored but the place where the gate is supposed to stand, even though you know the memories of the Warrior’s Titan mark every survivor.

Still, it is Bertholdt's presence that settles over Shiganshina. Maybe it's because the damage caused by Reiner has already been, in a way, repaired by Eren, as it is his Titan that now guards the gate to the city. It is eerie how the Wall doesn’t move nor sway, and yet what stood years against the snow, wind and rain is marked by a handprint on its summit.

As you get closer, you start to notice how the crystal seems to glow from within, a brighter and bigger sample of the lamps carried by the Scouts. It's dark purple where there is shadow and painted blue by the sun rays that bounce against its surface. But the overcast clouds seem to tint it a melancholy grey, sucking out the color of the once vibrant place.

The cart skids to a halt as you approach, and wooden platforms are brought down by pulleys to assist you in getting over the wall. You accept Armin’s hand when he offers you help in stepping down, your feet striking the earth as you move out of the cay of the others.

You stand still for a moment, looking upwards at the Wall.

It stands 50 meters tall above you, towering over your group. The others, having grown up next to walls their whole lives, are not as easily impressed as you, so you stand alone at the side, gawking at the sheer presence of the stone structure.

But it's not really stone, you remember. It's titan crystal, less so blue and more so grey and weathered than the one plugging both entrances to the city. Under them reside thousands of Colossal titans, struck up from the ground by a king of yesteryear, who vowed against war.

“It's big, huh?” Armin asks when he sees your upwards gaze.

You would make a that's what she said joke if you weren't unsettled by the magnitude of the future hanging over you, by the significance of the past standing below you. Judging by the handprint, you are more or less where Bertholdt once stood along with Reiner and maybe Annie, ready to carry out Marley’s will.

And in a messed up way, you are too. Not Marley’s will specifically – hell would freeze over before you did a thing that country preached. But you are under Zeke’s orders to infiltrate the island, just like the Warriors once were, and pave the way for his own ulterior motives. You were a double, triple, quadruple agent, working for both teams, your own, and the audience.

“Yeah,” you answer, a little breathless from all the things running through your mind. “It's… intimidating.”

“I guess it can be,” – He guesses? – “they’re not exactly… conventional.”

“You can say that again,” you answer.

Armin lets out a small laugh, rubbing his nape. He leads you over to one of the wooden elevators as you ponder on the implications of it all, so lost in thought you almost bump into him when he comes to a stop.

The elevator you get on is boarded by him and Levi, who also brings his horse, and you are slowly brought up by two pulleys situated at the top of the wall. The way up is gradual, in the sense that there is not much to do, much to talk about, much to see but the horizon that stretches past the field and the forests.

The wind whistles against your ears as you are elevated in the air, getting you closer and closer to the zenith. It's unreal, and the view from the side of the Walls steals your breath away just like the Walls themselves. It's twenty meters, then thirty, then fourty. Finally, at the fifty meter mark, you disembark the wooden structure, careful to not step on the unused rails that decorate the Wall’s perimeter.

You pay no mind to the neighs of Levi’s horse as the captain leads him to the elevators on the other side, preferring instead to break off from your small group in favor of peeking over the edge, towards the city. You do so carefully, knowing you are not clumsy enough to fall, but still exercising an adequate amount of caution.

There, with the wind running through your hair, tousling your cape, you bear witness to the tragedy of Shiganshina. There are two craters in the middle of the city, running deep, stretching wide. Twins; siblings. They scar the earth, leaving nothing but crumbling houses and half cleaned rubble around them, a stark scar the city bears from the altercation last year.

There is a river that flows all throughout Shiganshina, extending past the borders established by the Wall. Houses that harbor what little the people of the district left behind in their panicked retreat line the streets, and you marvel at how little they look from up where you are.

A presence steps beside you, and you don't need to crane your neck to know who they are. Eren contemplates the city in a similar fashion, his cape matching your own in the rhythm the roaring wind dictates. Your fingers clench the fabric of your pack as you survey the view.

You don’t need to look at him to know what he is thinking about. In the two weeks that it had taken you to arrive to Shiganshina, Eren had reverted back to his gloomy self, not offering much in terms of conversation or facial expressions. But you, much like him, remember the promises made under the blanket of dawn.

Bertholdt’s Colossal – now Armin’s– had been able to command such destruction in so little time. It had resulted in both the death of Armin and his resurrection, as well as the animosity you are sure many exhibit towards him, a sentiment shared with Floch.

So what could you do against thousands of them? If one’s brute force rendered –or rather, will render– Liberio’s navy useless, what did you possibly think you could do against an army commanded by the boy standing next to you?

You shift your gaze towards Eren, whose eyes seem to be glossed over with words left unsaid, with memories better left forgotten. But if he's anything like you, the very act of wanting to forget does nothing but enliven the contents of your premonitions.

His eyes meet yours and you wonder what he is thinking about now. Is it Carla, who perished at the hands of Dina? Is it Ramzi, who was crushed under the weight of giant feet? You don’t know which is worse; the undeniability of the past, or the indisputability of the future.

But there is no time to dwell on what was and what could be. You pull away from the call of the void, walking towards where Armin is waving at you. There are now two horses in the elevator, Levi’s and another you assume to be Armin’s.

The ropes twitch and groan as you are lowered into the district, and the slight wobble of the wood sends your heart into a faster tempo. It only begins to slow down when you are back on the safety of solid ground.

You wait for the others to come down, standing next to Armin as he straps his things to his horse, handing him your own when he gestures to you. The cart would do more harm than good when passing through the cities, so you’ve been relegated to passenger duty on Armin's horse.

“Oh, wait–” you say just as you are handing him your things. “Let me just get something out first.”

“Sure,” Armin says as you begin to rummage through them.

While Mikasa’s tea leaves have done little to prevent or minimize your headaches, they give you something to chew on on the road, so you want to get those out while it is possible to do so. But what falls out of your things when you are taking the packets out is not something you remember packing in the first place.

It is a small, black drawstring bag, similar to ones you’ve seen contain jewelry or other precious but small things. The material is too delicate to be from Paradis, and you’ve seen similar bags on Liberio, so you know it is something you unknowingly brought from Marley.

You frown, crouching to pick up the bag. Your face contorts even more when you notice that it is extremely light, as if the only thing that weighs in it is its own material. You distinctly remember your bag being vetoed as nothing dangerous, so you can't help but wonder if the contents of the bag were confiscated before you could get to it.

“What’s that?” Armin asks when you straighten up.

“I have no idea,” you answer, fighting a flinch when another voice pipes up from behind.

“What’s what?” Eren asks.

You wordlessly show him the small pouch, throwing it up in the air and catching it, feeling even more confused when nothing is heard from its insides. So, expecting nothing, you decide to open it anyway. What did you have to lose? The Scouts had already revised it, so they couldn’t fault you for doing so.

Nothing catches your eye when you peek into it, but the real surprise comes when you turn it upside down and shake it onto your held out hand.

A single button falls from the confines of the pouch, landing directly on the center of your palm. And this simple button should definitely not make you want to cry, but you have to take a deep breath before tears start coming out your eyes.

It's true that you didn’t have the permission to take things –your clothes– that were not rations and water from Marley, because either way the Scouts could seize it, or you could lose it, or it could simply be something to hang over your head. You argued with Zeke over it, wanting a part of your home for comfort in those foreign lands, but he didn’t budge.

However, something seems to have gotten through to him, because, without you knowing, he sniped away a button from the garments you arrived in, stowing it away inside your bag for a surprise when you arrived.

There is no note, only a lone button and the bag it came in, but to you it is now one of your most prized possessions. What a cruel joke that the evidence that Zeke cared for you, even if just a little, came to you in the very place that arguably suffered the most because of his exploits.

“It's a button,” you say after a moment. “A token from home.”

“You’ll lose it if you stash it there,” Eren says when you stuff it inside your pocket. “I don’t have string but… I think I know where to get some.”

“You don’t mean…” Armin trails off. “The basement?”

Eren nods. Armin’s eyes dart towards Levi, who catches his gaze and raises an eyebrow at his skittish behavior.

“Something of the matter, Arlert?” Levi asks, approaching.

“No, sir,” he answers, fiddling with the straps that hold your things to the back of his horse.

“I’d like to show Y/n the basement, sir,” Eren responds, voice flat to lend credibility to his excuse. “Maybe her perspective could show us something else.”

Levi narrows his eyes, darting them between Eren and you, but maybe your two weeks of compliance have softened his suspicions of you because he doesn’t immediately shut down the idea. Hange’s chipper voice only seals the deal.

“Oh? You want to extend the tour? Sounds like a great idea” they chirp. “Hey, why doesn’t Mikasa accompany you too? Surely she knows the district just as well.”

You accept Hange’s way of both looking out for you and keeping you in their sight. It is clear they trust Mikasa to cut you down should it be required, but they also know you’ve grown closer over the past two weeks. Mikasa, on her part, nods and falls into step next to Eren, with you following after them.

The atmosphere is eerie, the crunch beneath your boots strange enough you decidedly do not look down for fear you will find something other than rock. There is not one house without debris on its roof, with some completely torn from their foundations. There are traces of fire, of ash, of dried out blood.

Maybe Hell started in Shiganshina. Maybe the tragedy you want to prevent has already started.

But no matter, now you are too preoccupied –forcibly preoccupied– with not getting lost in the district, where every street and every building looks the same to you. Greenery swallows them, blending rock and dirt along the way, blemished by rocks, by wood, by forgotten belongings.

“We are here,” Eren says, stopping on the edge of the path.

The scene is brutal.

Up the cobblestone stairs sits a house– or more accurately, sat a house. Eren’s childhood home is completely destroyed by a boulder, the same one that trapped his mom under it, if your memory serves you correctly. The roof is at eye level, laying on top of the wooden ruins that

made up the structure.

The trapdoor they lead you to is right at the base of the boulder, having escaped the house’s fate by just a couple of meters. Although if the scratches on the door are anything to judge by, then there was a small rock on top, which probably got carried away the first time the Scouts discovered the basement.

They open the trapdoor, and you walk down the stairs after them, coming eye to eye with a broken door. You remember Levi kicking it down after the key Eren had brought with him hadn’t worked. You wonder if its protocol, to find a quick, brutal way to resolve problems, even if the consequences of such actions are something that marks it forever.

You chide yourself. Time is a privilege; you more than anyone –except Eren, probably– know how little you have left, how every second of it must be taken advantage of before it is too late. The fact that they had little to no time and still did the best they could is something to admire, not reprimanded.

Mikasa lights the lamp she had brought with her, flooding the room with it so you can see clearly. The study of Dr. Jaeger is full of books, vials and writings. Artifacts stand on every corner of the room, but there are too many empty spaces for it to feel organic. You guess whatever stood there was confiscated or something of the sort.

“I didn’t really need the string, you know,” you tell Eren, who is busy searching through various drawers.

“A want is not less than a need,” he answers cryptically.

“Hange said that,” Mikasa says.

“So what?” Eren says. “Doesn’t make it any less true.”

You fidget, anxious without anything to do. You can’t help but feel as if you are intruding, being somewhere you are not meant to be. So, with nothing to do, you stroll around the room, reading the names of the books, some Eldian, some Marleyan.

“Do you think the house next door still has those scissors they used to lend us?” you hear Eren ask Mikasa.

“Probably. Why?” she responds.

“Could you look for them? I found the string but it's too long.”

You turn around just in time to see Mikasa’s suspicious glance, only this time it is not directed towards you, but towards Eren. Her eyes also dart towards you, albeit with less wariness that you thought she would.

“Are you sure?” she asks him, to which Eren nods.

Mikasa hesitates for a moment, but then steps through the ruined door, making her way to the neighbor’s. You watch her leave, looking as her scarf gently sways with every step she takes, going up to places she has roamed far longer than you.

Eren is back to rummaging throughout the study, even with his earlier statement of being able to find the string.

“So?” you ask amidst the silence. “Did you want to talk about something?”

You had touched upon his memories, yours, and the tragedies soon to come that dawn at the beach. He had the upper hand, the home turf; you had the better part of the future mapped out, and the knowledge that came with being an outsider.

But you hadn’t told him about your heritage, nor Zeke’s plan, nor the way you watched him break down in the last years of his life. So you are rightfully scared he might take his words back when he realizes you haven’t been entirely truthful with him.

“Talk?” he asks, snapping you out of your rabbit hole. “About what? Did anyone say anything? Was it Floch? If it was him I’ll–”

“He didn’t say anything,” you say, more surprised than anything. “I meant about the whole… future thing.”

“Oh, that,” he says, twisting his body so he is face to face with you again. In his hands lies a bunch of thread, so the scissors weren’t an excuse to get Mikasa out. “Why? Do you?”

“I just thought you wanted to. You know, when you proposed we go to the basement,” you say, each word sounding more and more ridiculous as you say them. “I thought maybe it was a ploy so nobody would hear.”

Eren tilts his head to the side, stepping closer to you. As he does, you notice the expressionless eyes regain a small fire, still, it was too small to compare with the him from before.

“This isn't…” he starts, struggling with finding the right words. “I’m not just talking to you because of that.”

“Well, yes,” you say, chuckling awkwardly. “I know that.”

“I think you don’t,” he replies. “It’s nice talking to someone who knows, sure, but not everytime we get together we have to talk about that.”

“Oh,” you say.

Back at Marley, your day to day life was ruled by what you knew and by what you would do with that information. Every word you exchanged with Zeke had an undertone to it, however kind, however innocent. For the past year you had done nothing but agonize over things yet to come, over people yet to suffer.

But it seems it's different here.

“Come on,” he says, side stepping onwards the stairs. “If Mikasa doesn't find the scissors I'll cut it with my blade.”

“Yeah,” you say after a beat, following him up the stairs. “Okay.”

taglist:

@dressycobra7 @xngelsau @bloodchapell @i-think-im-adorable13 @luna4mnoon

@yuuuumii @kermittears @binluvsu @luvsymai @faerie-soirxx

@bambam1sa

ask or comment to be added!

[monsterblogging]

So, I decided to rework Amara Namani for a better Pacific Rim 2.

First, her name suggests to me that the character was originally not meant to be white; or that the version of Amara we actually see in the film was combined from multiple characters, one of whom was not white. So, I'm going to make her Desi.

I'm also going to make her a survivor of K-Day, because I suspect this was the original intention, and because it makes things make a little more sense. The novelization informs us that the specific Jaeger Jake was stealing parts from was Romeo Blue, which would suggest that this scene was originally written to take place in Oblivion Bay, in the San Francisco Exclusion Zone. (This will also make Amara a young adult.)

I'm also going to make her someone who fights in mini-Jaeger battles. I don't know for sure if this was the original intention, but it makes sense and establishes her as someone with combat ability. (We know from the comics that these kinds of fights happen, and the very name "Scrapper" makes me think that a double meaning could have been originally intended - the mech is built from scrap, to scrap in fights.)

Jake (who is now Stacker Pentecost's nephew) meets her in a very similar way to what we see in PRU. But there's one important difference: the pair of them don't get chased down by November Ajax, but by Lady Avenger, which is piloted by Mako Mori and Raleigh Becket. (Mako is a little surprised to see that the man she's chasing is her own cousin!)

I'm also getting rid of that weird cop stuff, by the way. (This also means that Jake/Amara/Scrapper are not getting tased, because that was honestly fucked up.)

Amara is offered the chance to join the PPDC as a cadet, where she is trained by Raleigh Becket, who has just been diagnosed with cancer and will no longer pilot Lady Avenger while he's in treatment. (And yes, he will recover!)

This version of Amara also has difficulty fitting in with the other cadets. One of her problems is that she's spent all of these years fighting by herself, for herself. While she wants to pilot a real Jaeger, she doesn't really have the right attitude for it.

Meanwhile, Jake is now working for the PPDC because Mako has convinced him to fill in for Raleigh for the time being. Jake and Amara bond over Jaeger tech together, and before long it's obvious they're drift compatible - we can see them anticipate each others' actions.

When the kaiju attack, Amara is paired up with the best match they can find for her among the other cadets. However, their drift compatibility score wasn't great, and their performance in the conn-pod is also not great. Amara and her assigned co-pilot fare poorly. Jake and Mako step in to save them and take the kaiju down, but Lady Avenger has serious damage, and the fight isn't over.

Jake has an idea - he switches places with Amara's injured co-pilot, and they proceed to kick the ass of the kaiju. (Mako, meanwhile, gets into Scrapper, and continues to assist the fight.) The story plays out similar to what you see in the original PRU, though with certain differences as the nature of the main villain is quite different.

[lotus-pear]

i love you royal trio (minus akechi)

[darksonofsparda]

[{ 🗡️ }] - "It's fascinating to me because, in my dimension, humans don't have any special powers and aren't able to obtain any, unless they sacrifice their humanity for it. And that, more often than not, always, goes wrong."

He was about to tell her that most of humankind was nearly wiped out in his world, but he had luckily stopped himself. It wasn't exactly a pleasant topic, and he didn't want to give his new ally here the wrong idea about his world. Especially since it was partly his fault, but that was another thing he'd keep to himself. Besides, there were more important things to worry about right now.

During the pause, Naoto seemed to ponder their choices. Letting her gather her thoughts, Vergil couldn't help but think more about these Shadow creatures the young investigator mentioned earlier, for whatever reason, he couldn't shake off this ugly feeling that he would be seeing what these things were like sooner than he thought, and not in the typical way that Naoto and her friends had seen them, whatever they had seen so far, was probably nothing compared to whatever it was they were going to be dealing with in Yasoinaba.

It didn't take very long for his ally to realize that there weren't as many travel alternatives for them as it originally seemed, at least not without the risk of endangering others. so the both of them knew they didn't really have a choice, and with no knowledge of what was going on in Inaba right now, there was no time to waste, the quicker they got there, the better chance they had of controlling the situation without any innocent being lives lost.

[{ 🗡️ }] - "Normally, I would teleport us to save us the commute, but unfortunately, I need to have been there at least once to successfully teleport, or at the very least, catch a glimpse of where I'm going so I can picture it in my mind beforehand, but this will have to suffice for now."

Once he lowered, she climbed onto him, feeling her arms wrap around his neck firmly, making sure she was secure, he nodded, a short-lived half chuckle at her joke, though he could understand from her perspective, unfortunately, there would be no way to curb her embarrassment regardless, but it was better than carrying her in his arms, even though he could with relative ease, his strength and the whopping height difference would make it easy.

[{ 🗡️ }] - "Then savor that feeling, because once our childhood is gone, we can never get it back."

The half-devil replies, rising back up now that she is holding onto him, it sounds like he's adding to the humor, but at the same time, it sounded like there was a story behind his words, but that wasn't important right now. With her arms securely looped and wrapped around his neck, he began to channel his demonic energy down to his feet, it only took a few seconds, finally, the soles of his black belted boots sparked a bright blue, and Vergil took off, taking off into an inhuman sprint, the whole dash only takes the darkslayer about five seconds, but to Naoto, it probably felt a bit longer.

As soon as they arrive at the train station, Vergil slides on his boots to a stop, and the first sight the duo spotted, is an ominous one. Everywhere they look, the town is completely surrounded by a thick black fog, and to make this scene more harrowing, it is dead silent, with some collateral damage on some buildings, even a few spatters of blood on the roads and walls. The air was polluted by the smell of iron, death, and gunpowder, whoever was caught up in this ambush had clearly tried to fight back, but unfortunately, they didn't fight hard enough. Lowering enough for her to step off of his back, he rises back up, looking around at this sinister picture.

[{ 🗡️ }] - "Damn! We were too late!" He takes one more look around, surely there had to be some survivors, the mountain could wait, the priority now was to see if there was anyone left alive who needed help.

[{ 🗡️ }] - "Shirogane, let's look for survivors, there's bound to be some. Once we get them to safety, then we can return our focus to the mountains, because as it stands now, the mountains are most definitely where our culprits will be."

[{ 🗡️ }] - "And keep your guard up... we're not alone in this town."

“I don’t think it’s anything special.” Compared to demonic abilities, being able to be proactive without relying on some otherworldly phenomena, a Persona wasn’t an amazing power.

Everything had its pros and cons, however, that was simply how the world worked. For all she knew, being unable to obfuscate his raw power meant trouble would always find him. Naoto decided that Shadows being limited to pocket dimensions and extraordinary cases of said pocket dimensions leaking into the real world was a blessing.

While Vergil was considering their options, Naoto was thinking of alternatives, except there weren’t any but the train or Vergil. A taxi would be a waste of time, having to flag one down and hope the driver could make it to Inaba in time. Same with a bus, except a bus would be much slower. “You’re right. It’d be foolish of us to endanger so many.” In the end, the only option led to Vergil. 

At the very least, it was a piggy back ride rather than a bridal carry. Still embarrassing, but not as much as the latter. “It’s like I’m a child again.” Married couples did that still, so did people who were dating. Not just that, but there were other practical reasons.

Don’t think about it.

As he suggested, she climbed onto his back, thankful that no one was around to bat an eye. She looped her arms around his neck, making sure she wasn’t going to strangle him. Although, all bets would be off whenever he would move. One last time, she scanned the area, looking for any last traces of malicious energy. When she deduced none were left, Naoto relaxed, or as best as she could while being on someone’s back. “Knowing how fast you can go, I hope I don’t fly off.”

If he saved her and everyone from that falling building, she had a feeling that even if she were to fly off, he’d catch her within the blink of an eye—along with her hat.

“I’m ready.”

[thebestusernamepossible]

I’m mostly staying off the Mouthwashing fandom bc I personally don’t want to put myself through whatever discourse is ever going on there. But know I love Anya and Mouthwashing is one of the best games I’ve played that had an SA survivor AND was respectful about it!! The abuse Anya suffered is never portrayed as a spectical for the audience to leer at. They use the art of implication VERY well, and in the end Anya gets to go out dignified. She’s not just Jimmy’s tradgic victim, she’s her own character who makes her own decisions. Jimmy doesn’t get to kill her, she expresses her own agency to do so. She’s also the one who kept the gun away from him for so long. Also she’s SO fucking strong, she’s so cool. Anya I love you.

Also the game’s overarching (but subtle) commentary on rape culture, enabling, and how capitalism almost makes a set dressing for it is peak.

[leslie057]

probably that she loves guns or something...she doesn’t love guns, she doesn’t enjoy using them, nor does she even pride herself on her aim in my opinion. she simply recognizes that it’s a skill of hers and, because it’s a skill of hers, it’s something she has to fall back on time and time again for her safety and the safety of others. she’s careful with that and she’s serious about it. [“there’s a six year old in the house—i know where i keep my guns.”] her relationship with weaponry and just battle in general really stands out to me against other characters. we can take eddie and steve for an example; in the field scene in s4, we see eddie bragging about/playing with his spiked shield in front of dustin. he made it, it is an extension of him, he’s proud of it. in a way, the only thing that is keeping his courage up at that point is his desire to prove himself. he doesn’t want to be the one that retreats, but obviously this is nightmarish shit, so he kind of starts to think of the weapons as toys to make it easier (or that’s how i saw it, anyway). just like a dnd game. steve had a similar thing going with his (nancy’s) bat—sure, he’s protected plenty of people with that bat, and that’s great, he’s very brave, but the way he swings it around like it’s a toy is a little objectionable because it’s like…okay, that’s enough, let’s not play with that. the bat is seen as an extension of steve as well, and for both these boys, as brave as they are (i’m really not trying to completely shit on them, i’m not, and steve is a protective person which is wonderful), we as viewers do get this sense of—particularly during battle scenarios—how aware they are of…themselves. it’s all about them, it’s all about what they can represent for the group (valor, basically). it’s about their personal growth. disclaimer i realize that this is a show with a lot of monster fighting/action happening in it, and also the duffers want their characters to have badass moments, and also they like to lean into some campier physical acting (hello unnecessary flip steve did onto that mattress), which is—fine.

but i find it so weird that a good portion of this fandom reduces nancy to her battle skills, skills that they think represent her identity. i find it weird that people don’t see how much it takes out of her having to be the leader all the time, that people think she’s driven by ANYTHING other than her survivor’s guilt, that she’s supposedly found confidence and purpose in the guns or something, that she’s empowered through that. i mean. yeah, she’s empowered by the fact that she’s not dying. that she can prevent others from dying. i would be much quicker to argue that steve finds confidence/purpose/maybe even satisfaction in battle (not that he doesn’t genuinely want to protect his friends, he does, not that he doesn’t have ptsd, i am sure he does, and he probably doesn’t take literal pleasure in the fighting, per se). there’s just this…..desperation to be the big savior there. i’m sorry but there is.

he projects this onto dustin and eddie at the end of s4 [“don’t try to be cute or be a hero or something”] to which dustin reassures [“don’t worry, you can be the hero steve”] with a judgmental note in his voice, honestly. which is interesting, too.

nancy does not want to be a savior—she just wants to save.

she uses guns only because she’s good with them, because she has to, she needs protection and others need protection. i’m sure there are times for her when pulling the trigger is somewhat of a cathartic release, but i also think she kind of NEVER wants to pick one up again for the rest of her life. of course, if that happened, she wouldn’t be cool and interesting to [some] fans anymore, so. whatever.

tldr; nancy is full of fear and rage, not violence, and she is probably SICK of those damn guns !!! please start looking at her as more than just a “badass.”

what is a mischaracterisation of Nancy wheeler that gets on your nerves (answer in comments pls)

[scattered-winter]

every day i kick a rock and bash my head into the wall because i'll never get to go on a big space adventure and become tightly close-knit with my new found family up there <//3

[princehendir]

also one of the specific reasons that Playing The Actual Game (or watching videos of the game) is that the nuance in line delivery is often very important. A lot of dialogue lines get discoursed to death on here and then when you actually hear them in-game it's like "wait a minute". Like in text form the nuances of a VA's delivery are often lost.

[uchiha-gaeshi]

Fuck fuck fuck low self-esteem has ruined my life.

[novelconcepts]

Jackie's death scene really has me wondering if there is something out there. Something that doesn't want them to leave. Something that's keeping the souls of everyone who dies in its space hostage. Yeah, sure, it's a hallucination--a last conscious stab of her mind screaming that something is wrong--but then why is the cabin guy there? We've been waiting for you. What if dying in that particular patch of Wilderness keeps your soul, and in so doing, powers that force?

I would love very much if the events WEREN'T supernatural, if it really was trauma, but honestly? It's being done so well so far, I would be equally as pleased to find these girls really did stumble upon some ancient god. After all, it's easy to surmise that Tai's dog sacrifice won her the election—but also, it tanks her marriage, leading her back to Van. Travis' death brings Lottie back to them. Natalie's death might cure Van’s cancer. It wants them together. It's hungry. They brought it back with them.

How much more can it consume out of those woods?