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#she only uses the gun in dire situations
karagna · 21 days
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An elf girl with a gun could save me
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yelena-bellova · 1 year
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Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Thirteen
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Chapter Thirteen: Carry You Home
Plot: Ellie and Y/n do their best to save a wounded Joel and survive on their own.
Word Count: 8.6k
Warnings: canon-typical violence, language, blood, injuries, hunting, reference to smut
A/N: Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy…these chapters suck to write for 2 reasons…1: D*vid. 2: We’re getting so close to the end that I want to cry 😫 I’m going to miss this show so much!!
As always, this series is 16+ and I will not be adding anyone to the taglist if your age/range isn’t in your bio. Gotta look out for younger eyes 👀
I hope y’all enjoy this blend of fluff and angst and laughter. I’m going to try to get 14 out on Sunday, but no promises. Read on!
——————
“Protect him.”
Tess’ dying words had echoed through Y/n’s mind more times than she could count. The sentiment had travelled with her across the county, an ever-present passenger on their journey.
And now they were haunting her.
Ellie and Y/n had managed to get Joel into the basement of an abandoned house, laying him down on an old, dank mattress. Unfortunately, he had woken up by then and was feeling the full force of his wound.
“I know, I know,” Y/n tried to soothe him as he screamed, bent over his abdomen. The tourniquet had done a subpar job at stopping the bleeding. If it had been a river, now it was a stream. “Hold still,” she looked to Ellie, “Press down on the wound. Hard.”
Ellie had found an old towel in the kitchen upstairs and tore off a strand.
“Squeeze,” Y/n instructed Joel, who was already squirming in pain, “Hard as you need.”
Joel had lost enough blood for the world around him to spin, the only things in focus were Ellie and Y/n’s faces.
Y/n nodded to Ellie, who pressed down on Joel’s wound, causing him to choke on his own breath. His hand shot out, reaching for Y/n’s arm and crushing it in his grip. She turned her face downwards to hide the grimace of pain.
“Ah, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Ellie cursed as Joel writhed beneath her hands.
“Keep going,” Y/n ordered, blindly reaching a hand out to push Joel’s shoulder into the mattress, “Honey, c’mon, I need you to work with us.”
Joel winced, digging his head back into the bed. Out of all the injuries he’d sustained over the years, this was the worst. Not just because of the searing pain stabbing through him, but because it was the one that was going to take him out.
He was dying, and neither Y/n nor Ellie could stop it.
“Leave.”
They both ignored the word.
“Leave,” Joel strained through it again.
“He’s lost a lot of blood,�� Y/n stated, watching Ellie’s hands, “He’s gonna say some weird shit.”
“Go,” he continued.
“Shut up, Joel,” Ellie’s breaths quickened in quiet panic.
“Take the gun-“
“Joel, shut the fuck up,” she yelled.
“Ellie,” Y/n said forcefully, the girl’s hands were slipping. She pushed them off and held the rag down on Joel’s wound.
With a last surge of strength, Joel reached out and grabbed Ellie by the collar, yanking her to face him.
“You go,” Joel whispered, “You go. You go north. Y/n-“
Y/n shook her head, shutting out the reality of their dire situation. “Stop,” she said without looking up.
Joel was undeterred, “You go to Tommy.”
“Stop,” Y/n gritted out, her hands hanging over his stomach with no plan of action. She wasn’t even sure what there was to be done. At best, she was only stalling Joel’s death by a few precious minutes.
When she finally dared to look up, her gaze fell on Ellie, whose eyes were misting as she stared down at Joel. He shoved Ellie back, releasing her from the burden of caring, and let his arm fall at his side.
Joel managed to turn his head, letting his eyes wash over the woman he loved, had never stopped loving. Kneeling over him and covered in his blood, he thought back to how she’d looked the night they’d first met. Her eyes untouched by cynicism, her laugh deflecting no hidden pain, her smile striking him like lightning and giving him a new pursuit in life; to bring enough joy to her life that her lips were forever turned up.
Now he was going to break her heart. Again.
He thought of their last night together, spent cradling each other’s bodies underneath the sheets in Jackson. How his skin had remembered the feel of hers the moment they touched, how his lips had recalled the roads they used to travel across her like he would an old hometown street. Though bathed in the tears of their sins and all they had lost, he had been reborn at the first kiss. He had a standing reservation in hell, but he could go knowing he’d felt the touch of an angel.
“Rose…” Joel strained out, the word tasted like sweetness.
The four letters burned in Y/n’s ears, sending a new wave of fear through her. “No,” she finally looked to Joel, “This isn’t how it happens.”
“Rosebud,” he pushed with a surprising calm to his tone.
“Joel, no,” Y/n fought to keep her sobs down, “This is not how it happens. It’s not.”
Joel’s hand shakily slid up her arm, needing to feel her as he told her, “I love you.”
Y/n squeezed her eyes shut, the strength of her grip on the towel faltering as she forced them open to look at Joel. Despite his impending death, there was a peace that filled in the lines of his face, one that only graced those who were on their way out.
“No,” Y/n whined, her voice unable to carry further than the distance between them. She reached up to stroke his hair, taking his cheek in her other hand, “This isn’t how I want to hear it, Joel. Please.”
Once he’d said it, he couldn’t stop. He was making up for twenty years in twenty seconds. “I love you. I love you…” Joel drew a shallow breath, “You go. You take her,” his stare gripped her, nearly choking the will out of her, “Go.”
For as prominent as Joel’s abandonment had been in her life, Y/n had done her fair share of leaving. She had left Sarah’s body, at least it had felt like leaving, when they’d sought shelter in the triage clinic. She had left her parents, panicked at what she had done, in the spots where she’d taken their lives. She had left Tess to die the worst way a person could, even if she was only following orders. Her life had been one abandoning after the other, and now she was being asked to abandon the love of her life.
In her haze, Y/n hadn’t even remembered Ellie was there. It wasn’t until she felt Joel’s thick coat being slipped over his body that she realized the girl was making her choice. She would decide, for once in their time together, to heed Joel’s words. And as her boots slapped against the stairs, she was also making Y/n’s choice.
Unable to force the words she felt like a sweet sickness inside her soul, she dissolved into tears, pressing her forehead to Joel’s. She didn’t think even if they’d had twenty years ahead of them that she’d have ever found to words to describe the depth of her love for Joel Miller. It stretched two decades of euphorias and tragedies. It was stronger than her hate or his violence. It was forgiveness and redemption and all-encompassing in its triumph over the worst of their persons.
Y/n sniffled, nudging Joel’s nose with her wet one and letting her mouth hover over his as if she could breathe life back into him. Joel took it, letting his eyes fall shut and savoring the the last of her lips he’d ever feel.
Joel had spent twenty years trying to detach from who he’d been, his old skin a constant reminder of all that he’d almost had. Y/n had spent twenty years trying to find her way back to her humanity, desperate to redeem herself. Without ever knowing it, they had been running back to each another, one step at a time.
Protect him.
Perhaps Y/n had only kept her promise to Tess in the beginning out of obligation. But now, now the words were as true as if they’d come out of her own mouth.
Joel had left her once.
She’d be damned if it happened again.
Y/n broke from Joel’s lips, rushing to her feet and bolting for the stairs.
From Joel’s point of view, it was the last he’d ever see of her. There was a duality that Cordyceps had forced on anyone who prioritized survival over anything else. Joel had meant every word with the force he’d said it, he wanted Y/n and Ellie safe. But he also knew he was dying, something that, despite all he’d wished over the years, he wasn’t ready to do yet. He had Ellie, this beautiful, unexpected gift of a child, who depended on him as if she was his own. And now he had Y/n, the miracle that he’d let slip through his fingers, returning to him with the same perfect timing she’d first appeared to him. He wanted to stay, to cherish and protect them like the man they made him feel he could be again. And if that wasn’t in the cards for him, he at least wanted to hold their hands as he faded out.
As Joel watched Y/n head up the stairs, he let a single tear fall down his face. He’d had one last night, one last kiss, and one last ‘I love you.’ It wasn’t a lifetime, but it would have to be enough.
When Y/n got to the stairs, Ellie was nowhere to be found. Was she already saddling the horses? Was it that easy for her to let Joel die?
“Ellie,” she called through her tears, bursting through the door, “Ell-“
The girl rushed past her, one step ahead, raiding cabinets and drawers.
Y/n felt herself breathing for the first time in an hour.
“What do we look for?” Ellie hurriedly asked.
“Something,” Y/n flung a empty cabinet door open, “Anything. We need to get the wound closed up.”
They searched high and low, in every room, until they met in the kitchen. Ellie dove for a set of drawers while Y/n scoured more cabinets.
“It won’t open,” Ellie groaned, pulling against the handle.
Y/n ran over, squeezing her hands next to Ellie’s and tugging with her. “Pull,” she breathed, the two of them shifted all their weight backwards.
The drawer’s internal mechanism released, the momentum they’d built throwing Ellie and Y/n to the ground. The contents were scattered from the drop.
“There’s nothing here,” Y/n panted, on the verge of frustrated tears.
“W-wait,” Ellie breathed, her hand sliding across the linoleum floor to grab something. She held up a rusted needle and thread to Y/n.
“Yes,” Y/n gasped, she took the supplies into her shaking palms. She wished she hadn’t used the last of her own days before, but they could make do with what they had, “Yes, this’ll work.”
Stumbling to their feet, they ran back through the door and down the steps, bringing salvation with them.
Joel was trying, trying to hold the rag to his wound, hoping it made his death a little less painful, but his strength was fading. His whole body shook with shivers, even his lips trembled from the cruel mixture of shock and the cold. He could feel himself slipping away, so much so that he was convinced the thudding footsteps he heard were hallucinations.
Y/n and Ellie kneeled down on either side of him, their faces illuminated by the last bit of light peeking through the clouded basement window. His saviors.
Ellie threw Joel’s coat off of him, catching her breath as she reached for his hand.
Y/n leaned down, interlocking her fingers with his other hand and brushing the hair from his face. She pressed a determined kiss to his clammy forehead, willing him to stay alive a little bit longer.
Joel would never admit to them just how much he’d wanted them to stay. He summoned what was left of his strength and tried to squeeze both of their hands, letting them squeeze back. They were going to fight this, and they were going to do it together.
Ellie reached for the towel and peeled the cloth off Joel’s wound. The bleeding had slowed, but was far from stopping. They had to move fast.
In the midst of their panic, Joel softly reached for Ellie’s cheek, pulling back halfway when he lost his strength. It was a moment none of them noticed in their mad rush.
“Honey,” Y/n began, pressing one more kiss to Joel’s skin, “We gotta get it closed up. It’s gonna hurt like a motherfucker,” she moved Joel’s hands to grab her forearms, “So you fuckin’ squeeze, and try to stay still for us. Okay?”
Ellie quickly thread the needle and tied a knot. Y/n wished she could spare her the pain of having to stitch Joel up, but Y/n was the only one who’d be able to hold him down and keep him relatively calm.
“Keep going,” Y/n directed Ellie, “I’m gonna try to keep him still, but you don’t stop, even if he moves.”
Ellie nodded, apologetically seeking Joel’s eyes one last time before turning to his abdomen.
Y/n put both her hands to Joel’s shoulders, bracing herself for what was to come.
“Go,” she said,
Joel let out a sickening groan as Ellie thread the needle, the pain giving him strength enough to squeeze Y/n’s arms so tight, she couldn’t help but wince. In his daze, he could sense he was hurting her, but couldn’t fight past that which his own body was bringing him.
Tears sprung to Y/n’s eyes as she forced Joel down into the mattress, taking the searing heat in her shoulder as a good thing. It meant Joel still had enough fight inside him to push through.
“I know, I know, I know, I know,” she muttered as Joel threw his head to the side, trying to hide his grimaces from Ellie, “I know, honey. Just hang on.”
Joel’s vision was going dark around the edges, the pain dulling all his senses. The only thing strong enough to cut through was Y/n’s voice.
“I’m here,” Y/n assured Joel, his eyes fluttering but fighting to look at her, “I’m here. I got you.”
“It’s stopping,” Ellie announced, still hard at work.
Y/n wasn’t able to sigh in relief yet, Joel had finally lost the battle and had slipped into unconsciousness. She’d expected it, but it didn’t mean she wasn’t still filled with dread.
It only took Ellie a few more minutes to finish sewing Joel’s wound, Y/n helping her to tie a clumsy knot at the end. They dabbed and tried to clean the blood off him as best they could before laying his shirts back down. When they were done, they slid off their ankles and onto the concrete, watching the rise and fall of Joel’s chest.
“Is he…” Ellie began before realizing it was a stupid question.
Y/n was fighting off the same thought, wondering if their efforts would be enough, or if it was a losing battle.
“I hope so,” she whispered, it didn’t matter to her if fate was calling Joel Miller home. She would rage against it regardless.
The next hour was spent waiting and watching. Ellie, eventually, went upstairs and collected their backpacks.
Y/n kneeled above Joel’s head, her hands resting over each of his ears. She combed her fingers through the ends of his hair, not trying to wake him or soothe him further into sleep, but simply providing what little comfort she could to both of them.
Ellie clunked down the stairs with their packs and sleeping bags, depositing them on the floor. She had spent the last three months watching Joel and Y/n fight, and the last week watching them drift back together. This was new. She hadn’t seem them vulnerable, on the verge of losing one another when they’d finally found some sort of peace. She didn’t have twenty years of experience, but she understood why Y/n was hunched over, cradling the man, who didn’t even know she was there.
Ellie settled against the wall, working up the courage to speak. “How’d you guys meet?”
It was perhaps the only thing said in the moment to make Y/n smile. “At a bar,” she answered, remembering the night like it had just passed, “A guy hit on me, couldn’t take the hint that I wasn’t interested…Joel threw a punch, Tommy threw the next…” she nearly laughed, “Then they threw him out.”
“So…he’s always been like that,” Ellie commented.
Y/n soothed a thumb over Joel’s cheek, the skin was so pale it almost brought on a fresh batch of tears. Or maybe it was the reminder that they’d once lived in a world where violence wasn’t a necessary evil. Where Joel’s laugh was an every day occurrence. When he kissed her as if it was the last time he ever would, with the end nowhere in sight.
“No,” she whispered over the lump in her throat, “He wasn’t.”
Ellie sensed she was getting to close to shattering what was left of Y/n, and she couldn’t do that. She needed one person left to look to, to hold her hand through these impossible problems. She rubbed her hands together anxiously, nearly choking on the words she wanted to say.
“Riley.”
Y/n dragged her eyes away from Joel to look up at Ellie, “What?”
Ellie drew a shaky breath, “Riley. She was my…she was my friend,” she rubbed her knuckles together, “She got infected and…”
All of Y/n’s longing told her to stay with Joel, not to move from her spot, no matter what. But her duty was to both him and Ellie, and she knew where she was needed at the moment. She inched her hands off of Joel’s head and crawled over to Ellie, coming to sit next to her against the wall.
“I knew Riley,” Y/n admitted, hugging a knee to her chest.
Ellie’s eyes widened, “You did?”
Y/n nodded, “She only joined a few weeks before…” she trailed off. Marlene had been the one to find them, Y/n had been back at base. But she’d met Riley, had even tried to take her under her wing before the fatal night at the mall. “She was fucking fearless,” Y/n shifted gears, “And fun.”
“Did she ever mention me?” Ellie asked after a beat of silence.
“No,” Y/n replied, looking over her arm to Ellie’s expectant stare, “I think she wanted to keep you safe,” she cracked a smile, “Bloodthirsty demons that we are.”
Ellie’s lips turned up the slightest bit, but they fell just as quick. It was one of the first times she had allowed herself to grieve her best friend, and there was something about the setting that made it all hurt worse. Across from her, Joel lay on the brink of death. To her side, Y/n was sitting with her in worry and in comfort. The last two people on the planet that she loved.
Y/n’s maternal instincts caught the change in Ellie’s demeanor just before she broke. She slipped an arm around her shoulders as the first tears fell, Ellie willingly sliding into Y/n’s side and curling her face into her body. It was the first time Ellie had allowed anyone, apart from Riley on that dreadful night, see her fall apart, and Y/n didn’t take it lightly. She pressed a kiss to the top of the young girl’s head, reminding herself that the journey had started out the two of them, and if even if tragedy intervened, it would end with the two of them.
—————————
Deep into the night, Y/n stayed awake, telling Ellie she’d press on until morning. The girl needed a break from the world.
Joel stirred a few times, letting out a moan or blindly reaching to clutch his wound. Y/n was there each time, holding his hand and soothing him back to sleep. Around what Y/n guessed was 3AM, he stopped slipping in and out and just stayed out. His ragged breaths, creating a steady rhythm in his stomach, were the only thing reassuring Y/n that he was still alive.
While Ellie was awake, Y/n held it together as best she could. But under the cover of dark, she allowed herself to fall apart, her fear for Joel’s life swallowing her whole.
“Do you remember that trip we took to the beach?” Y/n whispered, hanging over Joel’s head, stroking a hand over his hair as her other one cupped his cheek, “For our anniversary? Sarah’s graduation?”
In her weaker moments over the years, Y/n had drifted back to the memory. It was the last time she could remember feeling truly free and yet it was also the first time she remembered feeling tied down. Stuck in the space between Sarah’s dad’s girlfriend and a parent, between Joel’s love of one year and his potential wife. She wanted them both back; the liberation and the duty.
“Remember that night?” Y/n asked Joel’s unconscious form, she’d always wondered how she could recall the exact feel of the hotel sheets. The exact trail of her skin Joel’s lips had traveled. Which of his t-shirts she’d been wearing. “I made you promise that…” Y/n trailed off, bristling, “It sounds so fucking stupid now.”
“No matter how much I hated you,” Y/n slid her thumb against Joel’s cheek, “I couldn’t hate you enough to stop loving you. I tried, my g-“ Y/n chuckled softly, “I tried so fucking hard. Couldn’t do it.”
Her tears were building now, the more she exposed, the more the threat of loss became real.
“I waited twenty years, Joel,” she whispered, her throat tightening up on her, “Twenty fucking years, not knowing if you were dead or still hanging on. And then I got you back,” she sobbed once with nostalgic joy, “I got you back. And I can’t lose you before I get to love you again.”
Y/n lowered her head, dropping her lips to Joel’s ear, her voice barely audible, “Because I do. I love you. I love you so much it…” she bit back a cry, not wanting to wake Ellie, “It fucking hurts. You can’t just…you can’t just come back to me and then leave. You can’t do that to me. To Ellie.”
“I need you to fight,” Y/n begged, tears freely flowing down her cheeks, “I need you to fight so fucking hard, you need me to carry you the whole way to Utah, and I will. I’ll do it. I just need you there.”
Y/n choked on her sobs, digging her forehead into the mattress and letting them shake her. All her losses in life had been so sudden, she’d never had to watch a life hang, the pendulum swinging between a second chance and death. It was tearing her apart.
She wiped the snot and tears away on her jacket sleeve, the same sleeve that was painted with Joel’s dried blood. She leaned back over Joel, pressing the gentlest of kisses to his forehead. Y/n had heard stories of miracles, of voices at hospital bedsides being the thing to bring people back from death’s edge. She’d lost faith in that sort of thing after the loss of her family, but in the throes of worry, nothing was off the table. She’d stay up all night, telling Joel how much she loved him, if there was even a chance it would reach him.
—————————
For two days, Ellie and Y/n kept watch as best they could. With no medicine, there was little they could do to help Joel’s, now infected, wound.
Y/n finished up feeding snow to the horses, moving robotically from the garage to the basement. She hadn’t gotten more than maybe two hours each day. It didn’t feel right to rest when Joel was clinging to life.
She came downstairs to see Ellie kneeled next to Joel, placing one of their last pieces of rations on his chest.
“He wouldn’t want you doing that,” Y/n said softly.
Ellie sniffed away the cold air, “Yeah, well…”
If the terrible series of events was doing anything, it was showing how deeply they cared about each other.
“I’m going to go out real quick,” Y/n announced, heading to pick up her rifle, “Try and find us something to eat.”
“I’m coming with you,” Ellie jumped to her feet.
“No, you’re not,” Y/n replied, “You’re gonna stay here and watch him.”
“I can’t fucking do anything for him here,” the girl gestured down to Joel’s body, “If I can hunt something then…”
Y/n already knew what she was trying to say, she was desperate to feel in control of something. Hunting was a great way to make you feel like you had some power over the world.
“Okay,” Y/n sighed, “Twenty minutes.”
Ellie moved across the room to grab Joel’s rifle while Y/n crouched down and kissed his forehead.
“We’ll be back soon.”
The two of them filed up the stairs, both of their hearts unsettled at leaving without Joel. It was one thing to see someone with no fighting skills or survival techniques be taken down, but to see someone like Joel battling for their life was a quick way to make someone feel entirely exposed. And Y/n could feel the full weight of the responsibility they’d shouldered together the last three months.
Y/n drew her rifle into postition as her and Ellie exited through the front door, Ellie struck a similar stance. They moved down the driveway into the street, scanning for footprints in the snow that didn’t exist. They’d made the right decision to hide in the abandoned neighborhood.
Ellie and Y/n made their way to the forest, trudging through the snow and huffing patterns into the cold air.
“Remember what Joel taught you,” Y/n instructed, keeping her voice low to not spook any animals, “Regardless of what your instincts tell you, pull slow.”
Ellie’s eyes were already drifting ahead, having spotted a white rabbit thirty feet away from them. She glanced over to Y/n, who nodded for her to go ahead. Y/n felt better keeping her gun aimed at the space around them anyway.
Just as Ellie was setting herself up, the rabbit ran off. Ellie took off charging the way it had run.
“Ellie,” Y/n gritted, the worst thing to do when tracking an animal was to chase it.
Ellie tripped on a branch, falling face first into the snow.
Y/n came over and extended a hand to the girl, pulling her up to her feet. “Word of advice…if an animal’s running, you don’t go after it and make more noise.”
“Yeah,” Ellie exhaled, wiping the snow from her face, “I got that.”
“Come on,” Y/n hitched her rifle back over her shoulder, “Ten more minutes.”
The two of them walked a little further, eventually hearing a clicking noise that sent them both reaching for their guns.
Ellie hit Y/n’s arm, guiding her attention to a patch of trees providing shelter to a full-grown deer. Y/n gestured for her to take the nearest log and the shot. It felt like a good idea to keep Ellie as distracted as she could and maybe give her a much needed victory.
Heeding all of Joel and Y/n’s advice, Ellie lined up the shot perfectly and-
BANG!
The deer wailed, limping away into the depth of the forest.
“No fucking way,” Ellie muttered.
“Come on,” Y/n pulled her free hand and the two of them sprinted off after it.
There are certain moments in life that, with hindsight, stick out as forks in the road. If Person A hadn’t have made it to Point A, then Person B wouldn’t have found them and both their lives, good or bad, would be forever altered because they didn’t meet.
Y/n and Ellie couldn’t have known what they were running straight towards.
They tracked the blood trail of the deer 1/4 of a mile before hearing two male voices. Y/n threw her arm out, catching Ellie and holding a finger up to her lips. The two of them drew their rifles and very carefully stepped around the snowbank. Sure enough, there were two men standing over their now dead deer.
Y/n inhaled to speak.
“Don’t! Drop your rifles! Now!” Ellie yelled.
The two men carefully removed their guns from their backs, the taller of them keeping one eye on Ellie and Y/n.
“Turn around,” Y/n ordered, her gun locked on the tall man, while Ellie took the shorter one.
“Any sudden moves,” Ellie threatened, deepening her voice to make her words more convincing, “I put one right between your eyes. Ditto for buddy boy.”
Internally, Y/n grimaced. Ellie was going to get them killed with a poor imitation of Joel.
“You two are quite the hunters,” the shorter man said, his hands held in the air, “We didn’t even hear you coming.”
“Flattered,” Y/n replied, unimpressed, “But this is where you two walk away with your asses still attached and we take what’s ours.”
“Okay,” the man said, making no effort to move.
“Just go!” Ellie impatiently yelled.
“A-all I ask is ten minutes of your time,” the man continued.
“Did you not get that that was a warning?” Y/n muttered, extending her foot ever so slightly to make it look like she was taking a step closer.
“Please,” the man didn’t budge at her non-verbal threat, “Just ten seconds. My name is David. This is my friend, James. We’re from a larger group: women, children, and we’re all…very, very hungry.”
“We’re from a large group too,” Ellie lied, drafting the lie quickly in her head, “Also hungry.”
David sighed, “Well, even so…” he gestured to the deer, “Ya can’t drag this back just the two of you.”
“We’re fine,” Y/n finished the conversation. The world was dead, yet somehow misogyny was still alive and well…
“We’re not asking for charity,” David clarified, “W-we can trade you for some of the deer. What do you need? We have…boots-“
Ellie’s rifle lowered ever so slightly, her voice coming back to its childlike pitch, “Medicine? Like, for infections.”
“We do,” David replied, surprised they’d hit on something so fast, “Back in our village. You’re welcome to follow us.”
“Yeah,” Y/n wasn’t so quick to believe that it was just that simple, “That’s not happening.”
Ellie picked up her gun-slinging persona again, “Buddy boy can go get it. He comes back, you get half the deer. Anyone else shows up, I put-“
“Put one right between my eyes,” David finished for her.
“That’s right,” Ellie finished, sensing that at some point, she should have let Y/n take over the talking.
David turned to James, leaving his hands hanging in the air, “Alright, go talk to Howard. He’s got a case with some penicillin. Bring back two bottles and a syringe.”
James looked stunned at David’s request, as if killing the two women was the obvious option.
“It’s not code, James,” David added, “Do as I said.”
Y/n’s rifle remained trained on James, waiting for him to make the right move. The man kept his eyes on her the whole time till he could safely jog back into the forest.
“Ten steps back,” Ellie ordered David, her and Y/n marched the man backwards, “Keep going.”
Once he was past the deer, Ellie kneeled down to pick up David’s rifle, unloaded the cartridges while Y/n kept her aim fixed on him.
“That your dad’s gun?” David asked, “He the one who’s sick? That’s why you two are out here on your own?”
“This is not a Starbucks,” Y/n bit out, “We are not chatting over a latte. All you need to know is that one wrong move, and your village goes hungry a hell of a lot longer.”
The words hurt Y/n as she let them fly, she didn’t feel cut out for Joel’s intimidation tactics.
“Well, look, uh,” David looked behind them to an old cabin, “It’s a four mile round trip back to our settlement. It’s gonna be…a while before James gets back. I have some oil and matches in my pack, we could,” he gestured to the cabin once more, “Take shelter. Start a fire.”
It wasn’t the most obscene idea, Y/n thought. She didn’t plan on lowering her gun at any point, and if Ellie and her were going to make the trip back carrying half a deer with them, they needed to save the strength the cold was stealing from them.
“You bring him with us,” Y/n decided, nodding towards the deer.
David nodded back, a smile on his lips that Y/n couldn’t decode. She just knew she’d seen the same expression on the wrong kind of men before.
—————————
David tended to the fire he’d started in the middle of the cabin’s living room, sitting back down and warming his hands. Ellie and Y/n sat across from him, rifles aimed and ready to silence him.
“You know, you two really shouldn’t be out here on your own,” David said, his voice soft and concerned.
“Says the man with two rounds pointed at him,” Y/n remarked.
David shrugged, “Fair enough. So what’re your names?”
Ellie frowned, shaking her head in reply.
“It’s hard to trust strangers, I know,” David stated, “But I honestly mean you no harm. And for what it’s worth,” he opened his hands, “There’s room for you two in our group, if you want.”
“You’re inviting us to join your Hunger Club?” Ellie retorted, “Thanks.”
“It’s true, we’re hungry,” David admitted, “But we’re still here. I’m a decent man, just tryna take care of the people who rely on me.”
Y/n gave a nonchalant shrug, “Okay, so you’re the leader of a ragtag group of survivors. That’s nothing special.”
“Wasn’t my choice, it was theirs, but” David replied, “Yes.”
“They “chose” to follow you?” Ellie replied, “Is this some weird cult thing?”
One half of David’s mouth quirked up, “Uh, well, you sorta kinda got me there, I am a preacher, but just pretty standard Bible stuff.”
Ellie smiled to herself and glanced up at Y/n, who had already tuned out of the whole topic.
David looked between the women, “What?”
“The whole world ended, and you still believe that shit,” Ellie replied.
“I actually started believing after the world ended,” David corrected the girl, “Before that, I was a teacher. Math. Taught kids about your age.”
“So you went from teacher to preacher because, what? It fuckin’ rhymes?” Ellie fired back at the man.
David nearly laughed, “Yeah, exactly.”
Ellie smiled, just a little bit, keeping her aim on David but loosening it. He didn’t seem like much of a threat to her. Y/n, being older and having seen a lot more shit, was less convinced.
“But seriously,” Ellie prompted him to continue his story.
“Well, I found God…after the apocalypse,” David told them, watching Ellie more than Y/n, “Which is either the best time or the worst time to find Him, hard to say. But when the Pittsburgh QZ fell in ‘17, Fireflies and FEDRA…I left with a few others, and th-that’s how I ended up with our flock.”
“This is a long fucking way from Pittsburgh,” Y/n replied, perhaps it would have been a comment coming out of anyone else’s mouth, but it was an accusation from hers. There was something about him she didn’t trust.
David chuckled, “Yeah, we’d settle somewhere and then raiders would come, so we’d move again. And as we wandered, we picked up new people along the way until…” he glanced around him, “We ended up here.”
“Well, your luck had to run out sooner or later,” Ellie commented, the choice of words wasn’t lost on her or Y/n.
“Hm? Luck?” David rearranged his face the way some pastors did before jumping in the pulpit, “There’s no such thing as luck. No, I-I-I believe everything happens for a reason.”
Ellie and Y/n both shared a restrained smile, dodging the attempted sermon like it was a bullet.
“It does,” David insisted, grinning back at them, “I can prove it to you.”
“Okay,” Ellie agreed to his attempt.
David sighed, settling into his makeshift seat a little deeper. “We didn’t expect this winter to be so cruel. Nothing’ll grow. Game’s been hard to find. So I sent four of our people to a nearby town to-to scavenge what they could and only three of ‘em came back. And the one that didn’t was a father. He had a daughter just like you,” David pointed to Ellie, “And her dad was taken from her.”
Y/n slowly connected the dots, one step behind David but ten ahead of Ellie.
“Turns out…he was murdered,” David continued, “By this crazy man. And get this, that crazy man…was traveling with a little girl and a woman.”
Y/n was up on her feet, eye peering through the viewfinder, instantly.
“You see?” David smiled unsettlingly at Ellie, “Everything happens for a reason. James, lower the gun.”
Ellie spun around on her heels, both her and Y/n finding James returned, his handgun aimed straight at Ellie. They switched positions, Y/n’s weapon trained on James and Ellie’s on David.
“She is the one that killed Alec, isn’t she?” James asked.
“She didn’t kill anybody, neither of ‘em did,” David corrected, “Lower the gun.”
James and Y/n squared off, Y/n’s breath hanging on the edge of her lungs, just waiting to pull the trigger and release. Reluctantly, James lowered his pistol.
“Did you bring the medicine?” David asked his friend.
“Yeah, but-“
“Throw it to them.”
James hesitated, “David…”
Y/n’s back was turned to the preacher, but his silence indicated his seriousness. James reached into his pocket and tossed the small package at Y/n and Ellie’s feet.
“Back up,” Y/n said from between her teeth.
James did as requested, moving away from the medicine. Y/n moved closer to the man, letting him stare down the barrel of her gun while Ellie grabbed their trade.
“I know you’re not with a group,” David called, his voice creepily calm, “You won’t survive for long out there. I can protect you.”
They didn’t need to hear any more. Y/n fell behind Ellie, keeping her gun trained on the two men while the girl made a run for it. She thought to shoot them, be done with the whole thing and ensure their safe getaway. Except David had talked too much about his position in their town, they’d have twenty people after then instead of two. It was easy math.
As soon as she was certain David and James wouldn’t pick up their weapons, Y/n bolted into the forest after Ellie.
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They made it back to the house, sweaty and out of breath.
Y/n shoved Ellie through the front door, fearfully scanning the street once before shutting and locking the door. When she got in, Ellie was already making for the basement, where Y/n followed her to.
“Are they gonna find us?” Ellie panted, sprinting down the stairs.
“I hope not,” Y/n replied, wishing she could give her more assurance they were safe.
Joel had barely moved since they’d left, his head having lolled to the right a little. Y/n knelt down at his shoulder, picking up a piece of rag to wipe the sweat from his brow. His body was working overtime to beat the infection.
“How the fuck do I do this?” Ellie loaded the syringe with the first bottle of penicillin.
“You put it either in the wound or around it,” Y/n instructed, an invisible question mark appearing at the end, “I don’t know, I’ve never dealt with a wound like this.”
Ellie considered her options, rolling Joel’s bloody shirt back and getting a good look at the gash. “Fuck it,” she muttered, just before inserting the needle in the middle of his wound.
Joel’s breathing quickened, his abdomen clenched a few times at the sensation, breaking through his unconsciousness. Y/n was there, pressing a kiss to his slick forehead, ready to hold him down if he woke.
“Okay,” Ellie said under her breath as she extracted the needle.
“Good job,” Y/n reassured her, “Penicillin’s fast acting. He should start to improve.”
“H-how do you know that?” Ellie asked, placing a worried hand on Joel’s forehead to test his fever.
The truth was, Y/n didn’t know anything. She was floating on a life raft in the middle of the ocean, adrift from any and all sense of safety. But she wanted to take solace in medicine, in the science of twenty years ago that a little dosage could stitch the body back together. She was choosing to believe.
“I don’t,” Y/n replied honestly, stroking Joel’s hair and peering up at Ellie, “But I have to have faith in something.”
“What, like the guy who wants to kill us?”
Y/n nearly bristled, “No, not exactly. I don’t believe everything happens for a fucking reason,” she looked back down at Joel, her lips quirking upwards briefly, “But some things…some things, definitely. And I don’t believe that we’d go through all the hell we have just to lose now…”
Ellie sighed, nervously rubbing her hands together as she watched Y/n tend to Joel. It came so easy to her guardian, to care for both her and the man who had abandoned her. Ellie’s walls remained so sky high, she wished that she could simply surrender to the warmth in her heart without fearing it as weakness.
She walked around to the other side of the mattress, sinking down onto its edge and laying down next to Joel. She carefully placed her hand on his chest and rested her head on his broad shoulder.
Y/n knew it was difficult for Ellie to open up, that the connection they’d formed back in Boston was like some eclipse that only came every hundred years. She’d watched Ellie slowly peel away at Joel’s defenses, until it was impossible for either to deny they cared about one another. Y/n wished desperately that Joel was awake to return the gesture, to encourage her vulnerability.
There wasn’t enough room on the mattress for all three of them, and Y/n didn’t dare ask Ellie to move an inch. Instead, she brought Joel’s hand up to his chest and laced her fingers through his. She rested her forehead just above his heart, the soft thudding against her skin filling her body with hope that he’d keep fighting. That he wouldn’t leave them.
Joel, slipping in and out of consciousness, wasn’t aware of much going on around him. But somewhere in his slumber, he could sense the warmth that was wrapped around him. He wasn’t chasing any white light, calling him home, but he chased the heat, leaning his head into it. He knew he was safe, so long as he could feel the warmth.
—————————
But there was no improvement the next day.
Joel’s wound had stopped bleeding, but his fever had yet to break.
Y/n knelt over Joel’s abdomen, sucking the second dose of penicillin into the syringe and injecting it. He didn’t so much as make a sound, that worried her.
Ellie sat on the edge of the bed and watched, waiting for some miraculous transformation to occur that would make Joel shoot straight up and return to his normal, grumpy self. If Y/n was honest with herself, her sleep-deprived mind was also waiting on something similar.
“Thought you said it was fast acting,” Ellie remarked, more bitter with the medication than Y/n.
“It is,” she answered, she was fucking exhausted, “But it’s not magic. He took a fucking…” Y/n let her hand fall against her lap, “Whatever it was. That doesn’t heal overnight.”
They didn’t want to say what they were both thinking.
“Come on,” Y/n sighed, rising to her feet with a groan, “Let’s go serve breakfast.”
The two of them filed out the garage, Y/n going to lift the squeaky door and Ellie carrying out a bucket. They gathered handfuls of the freshly fallen snow and brought it back to their horses, it was all they could offer them.
Y/n looked out on the neighborhood, her fingers nearly twitching in anticipation. They’d left tracks on their way back from the woods. If David decided to come after them, it might not be hard to find them. Then again, if he was a preacher, he could have subscribed to the believe that God might exact some sort of revenge on them rather than dirty his own hands.
“What are you thinking about?” Ellie asked, coming to stand by her side.
Y/n sighed, not wanting to consider dying any more. “How tired I am of fuckin’ snow.”
“You and me both,” Ellie remarked.
Without another word, Ellie leaned her head against Y/n’s shoulder. Y/n interlocked her fingers with the young girl’s and they stood in silence, drawing strength from one another.
A flock of crows cawing, flying away from something, broke their peace.
“Get back inside,” Y/n ordered, stepping into the street and following the direction the birds had fled from.
“No fuckin’ way,” Ellie argued, chasing after Y/n. It was wasted breath, telling her not to do something.
Y/n led them through a line of trees, staying low as they walked along a wooden fence. Through the shrubbery and snow, Y/n could spot several bodies a few hundred feet away and the tips of the rifles they carried.
David.
Neither of them dared to say a word, Y/n pushing Ellie backwards and hurriedly sneaking them back across the street to the house. They ran into the garage, quickly and quietly shutting the door behind them, before bolting through down to the basement.
“We gotta draw them away,” Ellie said, on the same wavelength as Y/n, “If they’re after him.”
“We ride back towards the university,” Y/n finished the thought, if there was a fight to be had, that was the best battleground.
Ellie slid across the basement’s floor, smacking Joel’s chest and shaking him by the arm, earning a gasp in return.
“Joel,” she urged, “Joel, wake up.”
“Joel,” Y/n called, she was already grabbing her rifle, “Joel, come on. Wake up!”
“He’s not fucking moving,” Ellie panicked, running off to her backpack.
Y/n took her place, grabbing Joel’s face in her hand, “Joel, I need you to fucking wake up. We need you. Now.”
Everything hit Joel’s ears as if he was underwater, three layers of sea between him and the words. The familiar voices were speaking urgently, in desperate tones. He found the strength to open his eyes, two tiny slits offering him a blurry view of Y/n.
“Keep them open, Joel,” Y/n urged, “Keep them open for me,”
Ellie returned with Joel’s knife, placing it in the hand across his chest, “Okay, okay, look at me. There are men coming, okay? We’re gonna lead them away from you, but if anybody makes it down here, you fuckin’ kill them. You got it?”
Joel’s eyes were beginning to glaze over again.
“Joel,” Y/n slapped his cheeks a few times, feeling him slipping from them, “Do not fall asleep right now. Stay the fuck awake.”
In the end, there was nothing else her or Ellie could do. David was coming and they had to act fast.
Y/n pressed a final, urgent kiss to Joel’s brow, before leaping to her feet with Ellie, praying that he was weakened rather than dead when they returned.
“We gotta block him in,” Y/n said as her and Ellie ran up the stairs, “Grab the china cabinet.”
The two of them maneuvered the hutch in front of the basement door, blockading the entrance as best they could. They ran out to the garage, quickly saddling both their horses and shoving the door back open.
“You ride in front of me the whole time,” Y/n ordered as she mounted her horse, “And if I go down, you don’t stop. You ride back to Tommy, got it?”
Ellie was ready to argue to the death on the point, “I-“
“You ride back to Tommy,” Y/n repeated, feeling the weight of what she was telling Ellie to do. It was the same one Joel had felt two days before.
Ellie rode out first, with Y/n bringing up her rear. She had her pistol off its holster and the rifle across her back, ready to do whatever necessary to keep Ellie and Joel alive.
They rode out the backyard, cutting past a few houses before coming out on the end of the street David and his men were creeping down.
“Hey, motherfuckers!” Ellie yelled just before her and Y/n began to fire. Ellie was shooting to warn, Y/n was shooting to kill.
As soon as the first bullets flew, making the men jump, Y/n and Ellie galloped off the same way they’d come from the university. Ellie listened and stayed ahead of Y/n as they rode. With each foot they gained, a new surge of determination flooded them both that they could make it. Y/n rotated on her horse and prepared to take another shot-
BANG! BANG!
One well timed bullet to Ellie’s horse sent the girl flying, landing harshly in the snow. The horse’s failed body tripped Y/n’s animal, she clutched the reins as she was thrown off, rolling into the snow as her spooked horse ran off.
“I got ‘em,” one of the men yelled.
“El,” Y/n grunted, belly crawling to Ellie, who managed to roll over onto her back. She was in a daze from the fall.
Y/n reached back for her rifle, scrambling to her feet as the crunch of boots began to surround her. She raised her gun at the first set of men, firing one bullet through one of their legs and sending him to the ground. She wasn’t quick enough to swing behind her and avoid the butt of one of their guns being driven into her head.
“Fuckin’ bitch,” the man muttered as Y/n fell.
It was a battle to stay awake through the dizziness, but Y/n managed to get to her knees, shielding the men from getting any closer to Ellie.
“Do it,” the same man who’d clubbed Y/n decided.
Even though they were her last moments, they didn’t feel like it to Y/n. She reached beside her to grab her pistol and cocked it. After twenty years of fighting, she wasn’t about to stop just because death and her were face to face. Not for Joel and certainly not for Ellie.
A shot fired into the air stopped the situation from escalating any further.
David came forward, standing over Y/n and Ellie. He cocked his head towards two of his men before Y/n, his disciples each grabbing one of Y/n’s arms and dragging her back.
“No,” she screamed, kicking wildly as David kneeled down beside Ellie and reached down to take her pulse, “Don’t you fucking touch her!”
David glanced up at Y/n, nearly amused by how aggravated she was. He removed his hand from Ellie, holding it up where she could see it. “Two of you with me,” he ordered, “Drag the horse,” he moved to pick Ellie up.
With all her strength, Y/n slammed her boot down onto one of her captor’s feet, causing his grip to loosen in the agony. She freed her arm and punched the second man at his temple, making him stumble backwards. “No!”
Y/n marched forwards, shoving David’s hands off of Ellie’s body, “She’s my fuckin’ kid.”
David watched every move, thoroughly evaluating the woman in front of him. He removed his hands and stood to his feet slowly, adhering to her demand.
Y/n brushed the loose strands of Ellie’s hair off her wet face, the sight of her unconscious nearly incapacitating Y/n with fear.
“The rest of you go door to door,” David continued his orders, “You so hungry for vengeance? Deliver it.”
Y/n’s head had barely turned before she caught herself. It was better for them to think Joel was up and about and that she had nothing to worry about. Internally, she felt fear spread to the very tips of her fingers.
David began to lead the way as Y/n lifted Ellie into her arms, beginning the two mile hike back to David’s community. She didn’t know what fate they were being marched towards, but she knew one thing.
She’d burn down the whole fucking town before she let anything happen to Ellie.
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sisaloofafump · 1 year
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I can’t get enough of your tiny batblobs with their funky little arms. Do they ever grow GIANT or do they remain itty bitty?
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Other examples: 1, 2, 3, 4.
Details & math:
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He is most corporeal at the edges and in thinner parts like the ears and fingers. The eyes don't ever disappear but they can dim significantly or glow brightly.
His voice is modulated and doesn't come from a designated source. It is pseudo-telepathic. He can do his "hn"s without that however.
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The arms can be as long as he wants to a max of 10 meters (typically sticking to under 1 meter and up to 3 for dramatics). Using a grapple gun mimics the arms and can be visibly interchangeable, but it doesn't actually act as an arm or have dexterous use of fingers.
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(don't verify my math I only play-tested 3 scenarios) It's not that he doesn't get any bigger or less stable, he just has to reserve that for life-or-death-of-the-universe situations.
He can take a bunch of different shapes and can stretch out like a ferret if need be. However, there are limits:
Super tall = max width:height ratio of 1:20 (ears included) Super wide = max width:height ratio of 1:5 (ears included)
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The very important human aspect:
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The change takes place when he puts the cowl on.
Originally, the cowl was part of his physical suit but after a few years of working as batman it became more metaphysical. Now he only needs to mime putting a cowl on and by the time it's over his eyes, he has already mostly transformed.
This makes emergency changing while in civilian clothes much easier, but doesn't provide the protection from harm or grapple abilities that it does when he's in his suit underneath.
It's the same process to remove it. To do so requires an innate understanding of The Bat being a mask that Bruce wears, rather than an inseparable part of his identity (note: although I do think that Batman is an integral part of Bruce, the sheer cryptid nature of the blob is partially a separate entity). Family and friends can sometimes take it off him as well, but it varies:
Diana: Can remove it easily and see through the mask due to her innate abilities with truth magic
Clark: was the first person to be able to remove it, back when it was still transitioning from a physical to metaphysical object.
Dick: Was the first batkid to be able to but only gained the ability once he was Nightwing and it's still a struggle. Despite that, he does it often when arguing with Bruce
Jason: No matter how much he wants, the more he tries, the more elusive the mask gets
Tim: Could do it all along and does it fairly regularly when needing to talk to Bruce face-to-face. It got harder as he got deeper into being Robin but has gotten easier again over time
Stephanie: Was the first person after Tim to be able to do it and she found out she could early into knowing Batman. It came off so easily but was she so panicked by that fact that she's never done it since
Cassandra: Does it easily but gravely and only reserves it for the most extreme situations
Barbara: Has been able to do it for years but it's hard and avoids any situation that would make her do it
Duke: Could do it the easiest and quickest of all, with no hesitations what so ever. As of yet, he hasn't had the chance
Damian: Has never been able to and resents that fact
(Kate only could in dire situations. Helena and Harper aren't aware that it's something anyone could do, however Helena could trigger it by accident)
That's all my immediate thoughts!
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nerinefy · 5 months
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FOREVER YOURS, TRULY...! — NEW YEAR'S SPECIAL PART I
PART II — JING YUAN (TO BE FOLLOWED)
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★ synopsis: during a stroll, you find yourself facing him- the love of your life, down on one knee as the clock strikes 12 and the striking lights of the fireworks dance across the sky. despite the blaring noises heard in the background, there is only one thing you hear, "will you be with me? now and forever...?"
★ details: pronouns: you/yours | imagine | fluff | 700+ words
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★ DAN HENG ★
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You and the Astral Express Crew decided to visit Aurum Alley for their latest festivities for the new year. Due to all the stellaron catching and unrelated side quests along the way, you have never had the chance to explore the rich variety of goods sold throughout the market. Holding hands, you and Dan Heng went and strolled through the bustling streets. It was still quite a gentle and intimate moment despite the rush the alley was filled with. It wasn't often you two had the time to loosen up and think about each other's warmth and presence.
"Oh look, I've been meaning to try those new snacks they have at Tall Auntie's!" March 7th, who in fact was also there the whole time, informed the two of you. "I'll go buy some so sadly I'll have to leave you two here. I mean, not that it's your losses..." She grinned and winked at the two of you while pointing finger guns. "So am I coming or...?" Caelus asks. The pink-haired girl stared at him, annoyed before grabbing his hand with a tug, "we'll be off then," she said as they slowly disappeared into the crowd. In turn, Dan Heng sighed at the two's antics but then turned his face to look at you, squeezing your hand slightly.
With a deep breath, he asks, "Would you like to go somewhere?"
You tilt your head, "Why? Where? And uh...aren't you forgetting the-"
"Do you trust me?" he interrupts the string of thoughts you're blurting out in confusion.
You pinch the bridge of your nose, "I guess they're fine on their own. The blind leading the blind."
He chuckles lightly, "They'll be Welt's problem now sadly." He then leads you towards a secluded place up and near the beautiful shimmering skies.
"Woah, where did you find this place? The view's majestic!" You ask in astonishment, your eyes shining even brighter than the stars above.
"I think I've seen this place somewhere in his memories, and I thought I'd like to show it to you too..." He answered, his eyes wandering towards the sky. "I just realized that...all of these missions we go to...it was just- it was different..." He begins. "Right after you came and traveled with us...everything changed. You gave me more purpose in this life and I'm so grateful for the color you've spread in this world, in our world. Dire situations still give me hope and unwanted circumstances still give me the push to go on...all because of you. Going through all these expeditions and knowing you're there by my side, fills me with ease I've never felt before. You gave me a new home, a place of serenity and security...all in your arms. I know I've been blabbering too much, so I'll stop and get straight to the point..." He says as he slowly gets down on one knee, revealing the small velvet box he's been holding onto the whole time. Sweat dripped down his forehead and his palms began to get shaky despite the snow falling around you- that's the effect you have on him. You gasp as you realize, tears forming in your eyes. "I may not promise forever, but 'til the end of our lives...may I be yours and will you be mine?"
You then grabbed him by the collar to lift him and kissed him, lip to lip, skin to skin, as the fireworks began shooting up to the sky. "I don't want to spend the new year with you." You mumble in between kisses, the man in front of you then wrinkles his forehead in disappointment. "I want to spend my whole life with you..." you giggle as he sighs in relief.
"Happy New Year, my love..." he mutters, a faint blush tainting his pale skin. Click You look from the sides in surprise as you see the crew standing in awe.
"Sorry Dan Heng, we couldn't help it! We just had to..." March 7th says, still holding the camera up near her eye, and Caelus smiling at the two of you.
"Congratulations...I hope we still see you two after the wedding," Welt says while giving you a nod of approval.
"I hope not to see you all after this..." Dan Heng sighs, hiding a chuckle under his breath. With that, you feel a squeeze on your hand once more, and you're reminded that you're not alone anymore. He's forever yours, truly.
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©nerinefy 2023-2024 all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate.
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vivwritesfics · 4 days
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After Chasing Sunsets
Chapter One
Jake Seresin was meant to be a military man. He should have gone up to the rank of Admiral, but the universe had other plans. After sustaining and recovering from a pretty serious head injury, he's left with near constant headaches, bad enough that he's grounded. Permanently.
But somebody in the military felt bad for him. And that's how he ended up as the bodyguard for the rebellious American Princess. She doesn’t make the job easy for him, though (if you catch my drift).
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This had to be a joke, Jake Seresin thought as he stood outside of the household secretaries office. He'd never dreamed of this. He was supposed to be a military man. He had been for years, after dreaming of it since he was a child.
He was good, too. The only naval officer in active duty with two confirmed air to air kills. But his injury was bad enough for an honourable discharge. The recovery was long and not easy, the injury leaving him with near constant headaches.
All through his recovery, Jake had been itching to get back into a Super Hornet. He'd been assessed as soon as possible. Those headaches were bad enough to have him on is knees, holding his forehead with his eyes shut to block out any light.
Yeah, there was no way he was getting back into a combat aircraft.
Somebody in the military felt bad for him, that much was clear. How else did he get that email from the household secretary regarding the job of babysitter? Oops, I mean bodyguard.
The household secretary called him into his office.
Sucking in a breath, Jake pulled the little, orange bottle of pills from his pocket. He tipped two into his palm and swallowed them down dry. He steadied himself and walked into the office.
The woman behind the desk looked a little bit terrifying to Jake. But she let her expression turn to a warm smile and gestured to the seat opposite her. "Have a seat, Captain Seresin," she said.
Captain. To anybody else, it was probably impressive that he'd made the rank of Captain. But, to Jake, it was a bitter reminder. A bitter reminder of the career he missed, a bitter reminder of the rank he was never able to achieve. He should have made Admiral, and now he'd never get the chance.
"We spoke to Admiral Simpson at Top Gun, and he couldn't speak any higher of you if he tried," she said with a slight laugh. Jake finally looked at her nametag. Gladys. It was somewhat satisfying. She looked like a Gladys. "I'll be completely honest with you, Captain Seresin-" There it was again. "-From your résumé and everything Admiral Simpson was able to tell us, you seem too good to be true."
Releasing an awkward laugh from his lips, Jake rubbed his sweaty palms on his thighs. "Well, ma'am, I live to serve," he said.
Gladys suddenly pulled off her glasses, the atmosphere in the room turning tense. "Captain Seresin, it is important that I lay all the facts out for you. She is trouble, and we wouldn't be trying to hire a military man if the situation wasn't dire," she said.
Jake straightened in his seat. "My job will be to protect her, right?" He asked, and Gladys nodded her head. "Well, then I am going to protect her," he said.
The smile Gladys gave him could only be described as sympathetic. "You're not the first to sit in that chair and say that to me," she mumbled. "Most don't make it past the two month mark, and there's no shame in that."
Her words were supposed to be comforting, that was made clear by her tone of voice. But it still had Jake clenching his jaw. He didn't remind her that her staff were the ones to seek him out.
But Gladys continued. Or, rather, she got the interview back on track. General questions and such. There was nothing she asked that he couldn't talk about. She ran scenarios past him (scenarios which were outlandish, but, by the look Gladys wore, they had definitely happened before). By the time it was over, Jake was offered the job.
"Brilliant," said Gladys the moment he accepted. She pulled open her desk drawer and pulled out a rather hefty stack of paperwork. Standing, she thrust them into Jake's arms. "You can take them to your new room to sigh. And, as soon as that's done, you start Monday."
Gladys led the way through the halls. Red carpet led the way down a hall and large windows provided it with plenty of light. The windows were lined with the original brickwork of the water. It was gorgeous.
She stopped in front of a door that looked far too modern in the hallway full of original brickwork. It was out of place in the historic walls of the castle. Gladys pulled a key from her pocket and unlocked the door.
The room was small, a single bed pushed up against the right wall and a desk against the left wall. There was a tiny bathroom to the left of the door, with the toilet pretty much in the sink.
It was small, but it wasn't all that bad. Gladys dropped the keys onto the paperwork in Jake's arms. "The room is yours. All we ask is that you remain respectful while you're living here as it is still castle property. There's a key fob attached to your room key that will let you in and out of the castle."
As Gladys left the room, Jake put his papers on the desk, sat down on the bed and pulled out his phone. He may have been only a couple of years away from turning forty, but he still called his mother.
Mary Seresin had been the one to nurse her son back to health after his accident. She hated how relieved she was when he wasn't allowed to fly combat aircrafts again. And when this job came up, Mary was the one pushing him to go for it.
"Hey, ma," said Jake the moment she answered the phone. "I got it."
Mary Seresin drew in a gasp. "You got the job at the castle?" She asked quickly, holding her breath.
"I got the job at the castle," he repeated.
An excited scream left her lips. "Oh Jake, I'm so proud of you! I told you that the light would come through again! Wait right here while I go and tell your sisters!"
As they spoke, Jake could picture the three of them, huddled around the kitchen table, surrounding the phone that his mother tried to put on speaker. The table had been handmade by Jake's grandfather, one of the many things (along with the ranch), that had been left to them after his fathers death. His father may have been a huge asshole, but the family kept the ranch going after he passed.
Jake filled out his paperwork as his family spoke to him. His sisters asked him so many questions that his head was spinning. He couldn't answer most of them, not yet, anyway.
It had always been his sisters dreams to step foot in the castle, not him. He could remember playing with them, him as the big, evil ogre, Robyn as the princess and Lucy as the prince. They'd been kids then, hiding from their dad in the old barn to play.
"I miss you guys," Jake said as his sisters went out to feed the horses. He had only been gone a few days, and he knew his family didn't need him. They'd gotten along perfectly well all those years he was flying in the navy. But he was supposed to be the man of the house, and he was never around.
He heard his mother sigh. "We miss you too, Jake," she said. "But we know you'll make us proud. You always have and you always will."
The conversation didn't last long after that. Jake ended the call and took his now completely paperwork back to Gladys's office. It held emergency contacts and such. He put down Robyn's name and number, but what could she do all the way from Texas?
Jake Seresin was immensely proud of himself when he found the office again. He knocked gently and let himself into the empty room, leaving the paperwork on a neat pile on the desk.
This was his first job outside of the navy, he realised as he drove his rusted red truck to the motel he'd been staying in since he'd gotten the call about the interview. He didn't have a lot, most of his things were back in Texas. It took just an afternoon to get his things moved into his room in the castle. (It would have taken just hours, but Jake got lost on his way back to his room, something he'd never admit to).
You can take the man out of the Navy, but not the Navy out of the man, Jake realised as he looked at his incredibly neat room. He hand't meant to make it so, it was simply a habit.
The uniform guide Gladys had given him sat on his desk. The one single suit he was currently wearing wasn't going to cut it, not when he needed one for every day. So, Jake spent his Saturday in the nearby city, buying the same suit several times over. All the money not in saving was drained down to nothing, but it was a necessary evil.
On Sunday, Jake met Susan. He hadn't been trying to meet somebody new, had been looking for the laundry room. But the map Gladys had given him was printed on fading ink. He'd barely been able to navigate his way for dinner the previous evening.
He walked past the same woman several times before she stopped him. "Can I help you?" She asked, definitely ready to call for security.
Jake hadn't expected to hear a Scottish accent in the American castle. But he quickly recovered. "I'm just looking for the laundry room," he said as he unfolded the map from his pocket.
The girl, Susan, Jake read from her nametag, let the expression on her face soften. She puled her hand from her pocket, no longer ready to call security. "I've told Gladys about that printer a thousand times," she mumbled as she shook her head. "Do you have a staff pass yet?"
Jake shook his head. "'m still waiting on it."
She gestured for him to follow. Jake fell into step beside her as Susan gave him the tour of the staff area that he so desperately needed. As she gave the little tour, Susan asked him things. Asked what he had been hired for, what he did before, his accent and which state he was from.
Jake found about her, too. She had worked for the British Royal Family, but had moved to the States once she'd met her wife.
"So, you know much about the royal family?" Susan asked as they left the laundry room.
Jake shook his head. "Nope," he said. He knew the basics, of course, everybody did. But while he'd been on deployment, he hadn't kept up with the royal family, hadn't seen the point when he was overseas. (Jake had never really cared about the royal family, anyway, wouldn't have kept up with them if he was stateside).
Susan let a laugh escape her lips. "You don't know anything about the princess?" She asked.
he shook his head. "Gladys tried to put the fear of God in me, but she can't be that bad, can she?"
Susan laughed harder. "Oh, you are in for a real treat tomorrow."
It shouldn't have made the job more exciting, Jake thought to himself as he laid in his small bed, staring at the ceiling. He'd never had to start a job like this before, had been in the military since he'd left high school. Jake hadn't felt anxiety like this. He'd always been known as a cocky shit, but that cocky shit was nowhere to be seen now.
As the sun rose over the castle, Jake got dressed into one of the new suits. He straightened his tie and buttoned the cuffs of his sleeves. As he checked himself over, there was a knock at his door.
He strode over and pulled it open. "Don't you look nice," said Susan. She fished something from her pocket and passed it to Jake. His staff pass. it was official. Jake Seresin was part of the castle staff.
"Thanks," he said as he slipped the card into his breast pocket. He grabbed his keys from the desk, locked his door and followed Susan down the hall.
"You ready to meet the princess?" She asked as she led him out of the staff hallways and into the main castle.
Jake sucked in a breath. "As I'll ever be," he said as they passed staff getting the castle ready for the day. Maids cleaning surfaces and swapping the wilting flowers in the vases for live ones. Picture frames being polished and floors being cleaned well enough that Jake could see his own reflection.
"No, you're not," said Susan as she took him up the stairs. She led him down the corridor and into another, more private part of the castle.
Susan stepped in front of a grand set of doors. He hadn't realised that doors could be grand like this. Jake straightened his already perfect tie as Susan raised her fist. And then, she knocked.
TGM Taglist (for the life of me I can't remember if some of you just wanna be tagged for bob stuff. If that is the case, feel free to message me): @biancathecool
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the-nysh · 10 months
Text
Oh Meryl.....:') This will be a longpost commentary on the events of Trimax vol5 & 6 primarily from her perspective, so let's get into it!
Alright, so remember the foreshadowing in Meryl's line about seeing Vash's 'entire enigmatic past' from Trimax vol3?!
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Well in Trimax vol5 all that becomes true! When getting 'touched by an angel' directly connects her to Vash's memories through contact with his feathers, she gets a front row seat to personally SEE, feel, and experience ALL the worst pain and trauma Vash has endured over his functionally immortal lifetime of horrors!!! Bearing witness to just how heavy a burden of sorrow and torment he's suffered carried with him that she's always wondered about; now she knows the full context of everything.
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From witnessing his lone struggles as a younger child first learning how to use a gun, grinding through all his bloody mistakes, losses, and failures, to the worst calamity that he, as a transformed nonhuman 'gun' himself, became capable of unleashing on the planet: the terrifying destruction of July itself.
As Vash regains his lost memories of July through a meltdown of grief, regrets and revelations of his own (how firing his power inadvertently killed everyone he knew and loved), all at once, his pain while reliving those horrors of the past resonates to become her pain. (Remember this for vol6!)
And just to grab a mic to reiterate, Meryl is only a normal human woman here, with no special powers or superhuman training to prepare her how to handle any of this! (This disaster exceeds her realm of expertise!) She’s also the only one who gets to see, understand, and resonate with the entirety of Vash’s pain and feelings on such a direct, private, and literally mind-melding intimate level of connection. (Linking the human with the inhuman/monstrous.) So of course she’s terrified! Being thrust into such an unprecedented dangerous situation, witnessing inescapable horrors beyond human comprehension, AND by getting a very real demonstration of Vash’s power (on the verge of exploding out of control) and his transformed inhumanity RIGHT UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL!  
So it’s truly a testament to her mental fortitude and resilience that she didn’t just break from the information overload or succumb to the level of despair and terror right there--no, she bravely keeps her wits about her, and despite everything she remains on Vash’s side, shooting first to defend him (aiming right for Legato using the gun she picked up from Zazie's corpse) as the one who breaks the multiple-way stalemate between all their enemies instead! GO MERYL!!!!
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(It's why this moment's probably one of my top favorites in the whole manga!!! ;o;) Cause the entire time, even while under severe mental distress, crawling through the rubble with his powers and feathers surging everywhere, Vash had kept her safe and physically unharmed within his wings, and then her first action upon surfacing was to take charge to protect him in turn!! I love it; cause even during such a dire emergency and all the mental stress she's put under while in the heat of the moment, her faith and dedication (to fight without hesitation at his side) still aim true~
And even after Legato critically pushes the crisis from bad to worse, to the point Vash is provoked into almost firing his Angel Arm in feral-retaliation to stop him (holy foreshadowing of their future duel!) with Meryl literally stuck in the middle of all this chaos (while shocked, powerless, and terrified--bless her heart) as Vash struggles to regain control of himself...
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(Note: even Wolfwood was blown back by the surging energy, but with Meryl literally RIGHT THERE under Vash, it's amazing she didn't get hit being that close to him.) ...she STILL doesn't run away from him once the dust settles, and is in fact the first one to approach him in concern to ask if he's ok after...
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(So whew, a relieved round of applause for Meryl remaining strong in the active face of so much strife!!) The immediate aftermath of this whole experience gives her the tangible proof and perspective from Vash to understand and fear that Knives--as his twin in power but having the actual intent to destroy the world behind it, is fully capable of ending humanity's future.
Of course, the experience doesn't also leave her unscathed without any lasting mental scars to cope with...as Trimax vol6 so graciously shows us how things will always Get Worse before they can get better...
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Where sure enough, she's already having difficultly sleeping with night terrors and loss of appetite--it's honestly no surprise the terrible experience has given her symptoms of ptsd she'd be made of something unbelievably superhuman if she weren't affected, and consulting with Wolfwood unfortunately doesn't offer her anything (helpful) she doesn't already know...(cause at this point, she's literally seen more of Vash, especially the amount suddenly exposed to all at once, than Wolfwood could possibly know how to advise her on. He's still struggling with plenty of his own fears vs loyalties towards Vash himself.)
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Only that he stresses the importance she weighs her options now to make the decision to quit her job while she still can (a choice and the freedom to 'get out' that Wolfwood comparatively doesn't have under direct orders from Knives) to remove herself and Milly from getting further involved with Vash--specifically the life-threatening danger he poses as a living weapon (despite his best intentions and character as a person!) set to explode with the firepower to raze the world--if Meryl values her life.
But truly, how does Meryl feel about that? What does she value and care for more, that'd be most important to her--her life or her job? Is following Vash (surveilling him for 'risk management') more than just a job to her at this point? What about her feelings towards him as a person--the man she already knows, vs her need to reconcile with the truth (that he's not even human!) that she didn't know until just recently. Is the level of imminent danger and risk she's putting herself into, now that she fully understands how dire, truly worth it (for him) this time? And if she still truly cares for him, does it even matter what he is? Despite any pros or cons and conflicting feelings about it, which will ultimately remain the stronger reason compelling her choice to stay?
Whew! She has many things to evaluate and consider going forward, especially if she wants to continue at his side. (And as Wolfwood stresses, continuing puts Milly at risk too, so that's even more weight/responsibility to balance on Meryl's shoulders.) Including processing the very nature of her fears--to identify what it is that truly terrifies her (is it truly Vash or something else?) before she can hope to face or overcome them. Before this biggest hurdle tips the scales to debilitate her resolve or outright prevents her from continuing her job at all. For now, she thinks and relates back to the firepower she gained when she first fired a gun...
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And ah, HERE IT IS, she recalls what's scared her the most from her own past memories: "I gained the power of death at my fingertips. It was terrifying." Cause the first time she ever shot a person and realized the weight of the power she holds, she hated it. Shocked, collapsed, paralyzed, coming undone in the streets, closing herself off from others, regretting her action terribly... It was all too much. (Sound...familiar to the guilt and regrets of someone else we know? Meryl's shooting style is also notably non-lethal...because she too doesn't like to kill! When her first time wielding 'death' with her Derringers upset her this badly that she needed to adjust to be able to continue her job that required arming herself with this type of power...)
So remember when she resonated with the pain of Vash's memories? Seeing when he first struggled learning how to use a gun too, and all the blood and loss that accompanied it? However...his experiences didn't just end there, with only his first time shooting a person.....cause the first time he shot his real power (without him knowing what would happen) he caused the destruction of an entire city, killing everyone he loved in it! He didn't just 'gain the power of death at his fingertips,' he literally BECAME it, armed with the power to end the world. Hating and regretting his action so terribly, the catastrophe traumatized him with amnesia and led to a full-blown meltdown in grief and despair once he finally remembered. With Meryl there, witnessing and feeling all of it along with him. (His pain became her pain; his trauma became hers...)
That the sheer magnitude of wielding that kind of terror, as an intrinsic, inseparable part of himself (unlike a handheld gun you can choose to put down; he can't), let alone carrying the fear of it going out of control again if he's not careful, is indescribable. And if Meryl can now understand the gravity of that in relation to her own gun experiences (when the memory of firing her Derringers was already enough crushing weight for her to fear) then as the peace-loving person she knows him to be, who's always tried his hardest not to kill anyone, the crushing multitudes she knows he must feel now upon recovering his memories filled with so much death unleashed by his own hands must be unbearable. Feeling precisely just how much MORE terrifying and overwhelming the burden must be for him. It makes her wonder HOW can he still even bring himself to pull the trigger?!
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Just look at Meryl's collapsed posture, it's the same she felt in her own past experiences...only this time it's directed in relation towards him--almost expressed in his place for the crushing weight he must feel. She's outright screaming/crying/bawling for him in empathy for the pain he must feel every time he's forced to fight and shoot someone with so much baggage behind it. Oh Meryl....:') (This is probably the strongest we've seen her cry for him...and it certainly won't be the last she cries in concern to relieve the pain of his burden.)
And Meryl, watching him fight on regardless, becomes struck and speechless for another reason, as she realizes how much his incredible strength and fortitude allow him to push past his unbearable pain to continue his job: "I felt...his determination is even stronger than the regret he carries."
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Which is true, for the same stronger feeling that compelled him to stop at nothing, despite being on the verge of total collapse bearing his regrets of July, when he grit and forced himself to continue on his mission to save her from the Dragon's Nest. :') This is how he does it; how he continues to fight for what's important. (And yes she was that important, as the thought of losing her like his loved ones at July, is what fueled his determination back then to keep going.)
However, the struggle is never easy, as Vash, for his own part, masked behind his new goggle-edged glasses and kind Rem-like smiles 'as usual,' has not been coping well behind closed doors at all. (That Meryl could even sense an air of unusually 'off' distant/detached/avoidant behavior from him that she asks Milly about it.) We see him immersing himself in thousands of rounds of (non-lethal) target practice til his hand bleeds, and when drilling that level of focus + exposure isn't enough to take the edge off, he visits a church during service to hear a sermon on forgiveness...only for him to deem it hopeless there's no possible release from his sins when he can't even forgive himself, and there's even evidence he'd been drinking in not-quite-so savory (healthy or responsible) ways--unsettling even Wolfwood that something's uncannily off with him. (All being different attempted coping methods to drown out and escape the pain of his past regrets, but even Vash knows it's impossible now to forget...)
So all it takes is one slip-up when he's depressed off his game for everything to tumble into a trainwreck... Where Meryl seeing him block a bullet with his powers (instead of his usual self-aware dodging?) triggers all that terror to come flooding back into a panic attack.
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Where it's truly unfortunate (and oh it hurts...) as an accident, something involuntary--a messy, instinctual reaction completely beyond either of their control. Cause Meryl didn't anticipate her ptsd to manifest and incapacitate her like this! that a single flash of his feathers would remind her of Everything--of all the worst horrors those powers are capable of when unleashed, the weaponized death and terror it represents, and the very moment she felt and experienced all of it while trapped powerless and panicked to do anything... No no no, returning to that headspace is horrible; it's all still too fresh to relive and TOO MUCH trauma for a human like her to bear; she couldn't help coming undone in the streets in a far worse way than she's ever had before (and I don't blame her.)
And Vash didn't mean to publically out himself as a nonhuman 'monster' to everyone either, when tensions were already high following Knives' mass murders for them to link the same culpability towards him, while he's still struggling to get a handle on his newly awakened powers too--ohshit indeed when they suddenly manifest and the truth breaches containment freaking everybody out in a witch-hunting mob of scorn, fear, misunderstandings, and hatred. (Ouch...)
What's more, Vash probably didn't even know Meryl had seen his memories, or had been affected by his trauma to such an overwhelming degree--since the transfer happened more as an autonomous side effect of his powers activating rather than anything he purposely intended....(once again, unintended consequences beyond his control; he never meant to cause any of this harm!!) So from his perspective he probably doesn't fully understand how to interpret her distress (apart from the crowd's?!) or know what to do to help. Cause reactions from strangers are one thing to bear, but if he sees her reaction to him--and his nonhuman display, as anything like theirs...then it's so much worse cause it's Meryl, who's known and been with him since the beginning. She's someone important he cares for...and now she's hurt and visibly scared from yet again another mistake he can't undo. ohno ohno he knows he messed up...
(Plus poor Milly has no context to understand what's wrong, or why Meryl's so upset either, since she'd been knocked out during the later parts of the Dragon's Nest to know what happened. So now she's alarmed and concerned trying to process why everything's suddenly gone to shit, anchoring Meryl the best she can, while shaken by the pain and cruelty Vash endures in such a situation masked with a smile...)
Despite the stones thrown by the crowd (nooo~) Vash's first priority concern is to run straight over to check on Meryl...
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*And here's where I scream bloody murder* Cause that single flinch--from reaching towards her with that arm too, probably hurts him more than any of those stones thrown at him in hatred and revulsion that he's a monster. Cause to him it probably reads as a perceived rejection from Meryl (noooo~), and the amount he's hurt from realizing he's the one who hurt her this way....ohhhhh his crushing guilt must be heart-shattering...;A;
But there's no time, as before Meryl's even ready to speak or clarify how she feels, the choice she previously had on whether she wants to leave or stay is taken from her as Vash is the one who's forced to leave her instead. :')) The only thing Vash can do is repeatedly apologize as he runs away he can't even say goodbye--Wolfwood has to say that for him...and admit to Wolfwood how much he 'really feels like crying.'
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(And once again poor Milly, left with no other explanations, can only read how much his pained empty mask of a smile has broken...)
What sucks even more, is knowing how much Meryl had already empathized with his pain (she could already feel that strongly for him!) and being in no condition to explain herself or her fears to him, once her panic subsides, she's bound to feel that much more terrible with guilt from realizing how her reaction (especially her flinch) had unintentionally hurt and pushed him away....leading towards a bad result she simply couldn't help and had no power to change...what a disaster.
But is someone as usually brave and tenacious like Meryl going to let that be the end of it? Broken on a disastrous parting and painful misunderstanding (she never meant to 'reject' him!!!) she literally had no say over? What of her brand of determination--especially towards what she feels (and decides) is most important, becoming stronger than the pain and regrets she carries? (Just like Vash! Can she find it within her to continue, or start over, inspired just as he does?)
Her struggle now becomes finding that strength (even a driving belief) to tentatively (re)build that trust and acceptance between them towards recovery. To endure, fight, and conquer those horrors to bridge (reconnect) the gap between the human and monstrous that separates them. (Especially if she truly cares and wants to do it--for the sake of what Matters, for what'll make the effort Worth it.) It'll be huge and seemingly insurmountable for any other person bearing the same strife she carries, but you can do it Meryl, I believe in you~~
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nayziiz · 2 months
Text
Shadows | LN4
Summary: [Mafia] In the face of dire financial troubles, Lando receives a desperate plea from his father to unearth a lucrative solution within the family business. Fueled by the pressure to rescue his family from ruin, Lando stumbles upon a seemingly perfect venture—using luxury cars as a facade for the clandestine world of drug trafficking. With the unexpected partnership of Amelia Rossi, his father's best friend's daughter, Lando believes he has found the ideal accomplice. However, as the Norris family collides with the ambitious Russells in a ruthless bid to establish their dominance, the perilous path Lando has chosen places not only his newfound enterprise at stake but also entangles Amelia in the dangerous crossfire that unfolds.
Warning: Violence, drugs, blood, smut, fluff, guns, pregnancy
Pairing: Lando Norris x OC (Amelia Rossi) - appearances from other drivers
Masterlist
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Chapter 16
News of Steve and George Russell's arrest sent shockwaves through the underworld and the upper echelons of society alike. The headlines blared the downfall of the notorious crime family, striking fear into the hearts of those who had once cowered under their influence. For Lando, Amelia, and Adam, it was a bittersweet victory, a crucial step in their quest for justice and redemption.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting an orange hue over the skyline of São Paulo, Lando paced the villa's terrace, his mind swirling with a whirlwind of emotions. Steve's arrest marked a significant milestone in their plan to dismantle the Russell empire, but it also brought a heightened sense of urgency to their mission. With the Russells on the defensive, they would stop at nothing to protect their secrets and retaliate against those who had dared to challenge their reign.
Inside the villa, Amelia sat by the window, her fingers tracing the contours of her growing sixteen week old belly as she watched the city come alive with the glow of streetlights and the hum of nightlife. The weight of their situation pressed heavily upon her shoulders, the reality of impending motherhood mingling with the uncertainty of their future. But amidst the chaos, one thing remained constant – her unwavering faith in Lando and their love, a beacon of hope in the darkness that threatened to consume them.
Lando's heart swelled with love and pride as he beheld the sight of Amelia's burgeoning baby bump. It was a tangible reminder of the new life growing within her, a symbol of their shared journey and the unbreakable bond they shared. He approached her with a tender smile, his eyes alight with warmth and affection.
“Hey there, little peanut.” He murmured, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. “How's our little one doing today?”
Amelia looked up at him, her eyes shining with a mixture of joy and anticipation.
“I think peanut's doing just fine. You want to feel?” She replied, reaching out to caress his cheek.
Lando nodded eagerly, crouching down beside her. He pressed his hand against her belly, feeling the subtle movements of their unborn child beneath his fingertips. It was a moment of pure magic, a connection forged in the silent whispers of their shared dreams and hopes for the future.
“I can't believe we're going to be parents. It feels like just yesterday we were kids ourselves.” Lando murmured, his voice filled with wonder.
Amelia smiled, her gaze softening with affection.
“I know.” She agreed, leaning into his touch. “I really want to go home, Lan.”
“I know, baby. Just a few more weeks so we’re sure it’s safe to go back, then we’re on the first flight out.” Lando's words were filled with reassurance, but Amelia couldn't shake the feeling of longing for the familiarity and security of home.
The past months had been filled with uncertainty and danger, and while they had found temporary refuge in their secluded hideaway, it was far from the comfort of their own home.
“I need to have this baby back home.” She admitted softly, her voice tinged with homesickness.
“You will, just a few more weeks.” Lando murmured, wrapping his arms around her in a comforting embrace.
“I miss my Mom, believe it or not.” She sighed, resting her head against his chest.
As the details of her passing unfolded, it became clear that Marilyn, Amelia’s mother, had been in the wrong place at the wrong time when Harold was shot and killed. She had been going about her day, perhaps running errands or attending to her own affairs, when fate cruelly intervened.
“My father said my Nan sent down a whole box of that chocolate you like so much.” Lando informed Amelia, attempting to change the subject.
As Lando attempted to shift the conversation away from the sombre topic of Marilyn's passing, his mention of the chocolate brought a faint smile to Amelia's lips. It was a small gesture, but a welcome distraction from the weight of her recent loss. The thought of indulging in a sweet treat, especially one that held sentimental value, offered a brief respite from the grief that loomed heavy in the air.
As Lando stepped out of the room to make the call, he couldn't shake the sense of unease that had settled in his chest. The distance from home weighed heavily on both him and Amelia, amplifying the usual challenges of pregnancy and adding an extra layer of complexity to their situation. With each passing day, the longing for the familiar comforts of home grew stronger, tugging at their hearts and fueling a deep-seated yearning for the safety and security they had left behind.
With a heavy sigh, Lando dialled his father's number, his mind swirling with a myriad of concerns and uncertainties. He needed guidance, reassurance, anything to ease the burden of responsibility that weighed so heavily upon him. As the call connected, Lando's voice was laced with a hint of apprehension, a reflection of the tumultuous emotions that churned within him.
“Hey, Dad.” He began, his words tinged with a mixture of relief and anxiety. “We need to come home.”
Lando's plea hung heavy in the air as he awaited his father's response, his heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. He knew the risks involved in returning home prematurely, but the thought of Amelia enduring the challenges of pregnancy without the support of family was unbearable to him.
“I understand, son.” Adam's voice resonated through the phone, his tone weighed down by the gravity of their situation. “But we can't afford to take any chances. You know how dangerous it is right now.”
Lando's jaw tightened as he absorbed his father's words, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. He couldn't shake the feeling of helplessness that gnawed at him, knowing that he couldn't provide Amelia with the comfort and reassurance she so desperately needed.
“Dad, she’s pregnant.” Lando insisted, his voice tinged with a hint of desperation. “She needs Mum, and Savannah, and anyone who can just support her through this. Please, Dad. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.”
There was a brief moment of silence on the other end of the line, the weight of their conversation hanging heavily between them. Adam's sigh echoed through the phone, a testament to the internal struggle he faced in balancing his desire to protect his family with the undeniable need for support and comfort.
The gravity of the situation weighed heavily in the space between Lando and his father, the urgency in his voice underscoring the importance of his plea. Adam's silence spoke volumes, the weight of his own concerns mirrored in the sombre tone of his response.
“I understand, Lando. I'll arrange for a secure escort to ensure Amelia's safety.” Adam replied, his voice tinged with a mixture of apprehension and determination. "But I need you to promise me that you'll prioritise her safety above all else. There’s a baby to think of now.”
“I promise, Dad. Thank you. It means everything to us.” Lando affirmed, a sense of relief washing over him at the prospect of finally bringing Amelia back home.
As the call ended, Lando felt a sense of resolve settle within him, a renewed determination to do whatever it took to ensure Amelia's well-being.
Lando entered the room, his heart buoyed by the prospect of bringing some relief to Amelia amidst the uncertainty they faced. As he approached her, he found her sitting on the edge of the bed, a mix of anticipation and apprehension etched on her features.
“Hey, baby.” He greeted softly, taking her hands in his as he sat down beside her. “I've got some news.”
“What is it?” Amelia looked up at him, her eyes reflecting a blend of curiosity and concern.
“We're going home. Dad’s making all the arrangements now and he’ll let me know once everything has been sorted.” Lando announced, a flicker of excitement dancing in his eyes. 
“Really?” A wave of relief washed over Amelia, her tense shoulders relaxing as the weight of uncertainty began to lift. 
Lando nodded, a tender smile gracing his lips. Tears welled in Amelia's eyes, a mix of gratitude and overwhelming emotion swelling within her.
“Thank you, Lando. Thank you for everything.” She choked as she tried to hold back her tears.
Wrapping her in a warm embrace, Lando held her close, his heart swelling with love and determination.
As the jet's door swung open, the familiar sights and sounds of London greeted Lando and Amelia, signalling their return to the place they called home. Max Fewtrell, Lando's trusted childhood friend, stood at the ready by the armoured SUV, his expression a mix of relief and anticipation as he awaited their arrival. With practised ease, Lando emerged first, swiftly retrieving their luggage before returning to assist Amelia down the steps of the jet.
Max's eyes widened in surprise as he caught sight of Amelia's unmistakable baby bump, a visible symbol of the new chapter awaiting the couple. His expression softened into a warm smile as he approached, offering a hand to help Amelia onto solid ground once more.
“Welcome back. Looks like I arrived just in time to see the next generation of troublemakers in the making.” Max greeted, his voice laced with genuine warmth and excitement.
“Thanks, Max. Flip, have I missed you.” Amelia chuckled softly, a hint of exhaustion mingling with the overwhelming sense of gratitude flooding her senses.
With Max's help, they made their way to the waiting SUV, ready to embark on the next leg of their journey home. As they settled into the familiar comforts of the vehicle, a sense of hope and anticipation filled the air, a testament to the unwavering bond shared between friends and the promise of new beginnings on the horizon.
As they settled into the SUV, Max couldn't contain his curiosity, prompting him to broach the topic that had been swirling in his mind since he laid eyes on Amelia's baby bump.
“So, a baby?” Max inquired, his tone a mix of surprise and genuine interest.
“Yep, a little surprise that kept our spirits up while we were away.” Lando's smile widened at Max's reaction, a flicker of pride evident in his eyes.
“How far along are you?” Max's eyebrows shot up in amazement.
“Just over sixteen weeks.” Amelia replied, her voice filled with a mix of excitement and tenderness as she glanced at Lando, beaming with impending fatherhood pride in the passenger seat.
“Wow, you two were away for a long time.” Max remarked, a hint of playful teasing in his tone.
“Yeah, yeah. Missed you too, mate. But now that we're back, we've got some catching up to do.” Lando chuckled in response, reaching over to give Max a friendly pat on the shoulder.
“Your parents are going to do somersaults about their new grandbaby.” Max remarked, causing both Lando and Amelia to chuckle in response.
Almost an hour later, Max pulled up in front of the Norris family home and almost instantly, Lando’s family came rushing out from his father, to his mother, to his sisters and brother. Lando got out in a haste to open the back door of the SUV for Amelia to step out.
As Amelia stepped out of the SUV, she was greeted by the enthusiastic embrace of Lando's family. His sisters, in particular, were ecstatic to see her and the baby bump. They showered her with hugs and affection, their excitement palpable as they welcomed her into their home.
“Amelia, you're glowing!” Lando's mother exclaimed, her eyes shimmering with joy at the sight of her son's partner.
“We've been waiting for this moment for so long.” Flo, one of Lando's sisters chimed in, her smile radiant with happiness.
Amelia felt overwhelmed by the warmth and love emanating from Lando's family. Despite the challenges they had faced, being surrounded by such genuine affection filled her with a sense of comfort and belonging. She exchanged grateful smiles with Lando, silently acknowledging that they were exactly where they were meant to be.
“Careful, girls. There’s special cargo in that belly.” Lando’s mother, Cisca, warned her daughter as Adam wrapped his arms around his son and kept him tight against him.
As Lando's family continued to fuss over Amelia and the baby bump, his mother's gentle reminder brought a sense of protective unity to the moment. Cisca's words served as a subtle reminder to everyone that Amelia and the unborn baby were precious cargo, deserving of extra care and consideration.
Adam's embrace around Lando spoke volumes, conveying both love and a silent promise of protection. In that moment, Lando felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for his family's unwavering support. They had been through so much together, and yet, here they were, embracing the future with open arms and loving hearts.
With his father's reassuring presence anchoring him, Lando felt a renewed sense of determination to ensure the safety and well-being of Amelia and their growing family.
“You did a great job, son, keeping her safe.” Adam acknowledged as he whispered into Lando’s ear.
“Thanks, Dad. And, thank you for your help.” Lando told his Dad.
“Amelia, dear, what do you need?” Cisca asked Amelia as she led her into the house.
As Lando and Amelia made their way into the house, the warmth of familiarity enveloped them. The comforting scent of home-cooked food filled the air, triggering a wave of nostalgia and anticipation for the meal ahead. Despite the challenges they had faced during their time away, being back in the familiar embrace of family brought a sense of peace and reassurance.
“Just a hot shower for now.” Amelia chuckled, keeping her exhaustion at bay.
“You do that, sweetie. I have a full roast going at the moment. I assumed you kids haven’t had a real home cooked meal in a while.” Cisca assured Ameli and Lando.
“That sounds lovely, Mum.” Lando smiled. “I’ll take Amelia up and get her settled and we’ll come down for dinner.”
As had become a norm in their relationship, Lando ran the shower allowing it to heat up for her. Amelia caught Lando's gaze lingering on her as she undressed, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Despite the familiarity of their relationship, there was still an undeniable spark between them that never failed to ignite a rush of warmth and affection.
“Not as hot as you thought I’d be pregnant?” She wondered, suddenly self-conscious like she had been all the times he paraded his model ex-flings.
“The exact opposite, actually. You’re beautiful, Amelia.” He assured her and then proceeded to place a loving kiss on her lips.
With a teasing glint in her eyes, Amelia stepped into the shower, feeling the warm water cascade over her skin, washing away the weariness of their journey and leaving her feeling refreshed and invigorated. She closed her eyes, relishing in the sensation, until she felt Lando's presence behind her, his strong arms enveloping her in a gentle embrace.
As he began to massage shampoo into her hair, his touch was tender and intimate, sending shivers of pleasure down her spine. She leaned back against him, letting herself melt into his embrace, feeling his heartbeat against her back as they stood together beneath the soothing stream of water.
In that moment, with the comforting sound of the shower filling the room and Lando's reassuring presence surrounding her, Amelia couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude for the man standing beside her. Despite the challenges they had faced, their bond remained unbreakable, a testament to the strength of their connection and the depth of their love. And as she turned to meet his gaze, her heart swelled with a profound sense of contentment, knowing that she was exactly where she was meant to be - finally out of the shadows.
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chick-with-wifi · 10 months
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Meta: Root's message for Shaw
In 4x05, Root says, "if the worst comes to pass, if you could give Shaw a message?" when she believes she will die in the fight against Martine. Although we don't hear the exact wording of this message, the context and Finch's reply of "I think she already knows", tell us it is a declaration of love.
Then in 5x13 when the Machine is fading, She tells Shaw, "There's something I think Root had wanted to say to you. You always thought there was something wrong with you because you don't feel things the way other people do. But she always felt that was what made you beautiful. She wanted you to know that if you were a shape, you were a straight line. An arrow." 
During their time together, Root's flirting consists of exaggerated innuendo to push Shaw's buttons ("I'll do yours if you do mine" in 3x23, "I love it when you play doctor" in 3x17), and in return Shaw pushes Root's buttons by aggressively pretending she doesn't care about Root ("I missed you like I'd miss an intestinal parasite" in 3x20, "I wouldn't want anything to happen…to the dog" in 4x10). Root never disrupts the delicate balance of this dance, never asks Shaw for more than she's willing to give or demands any confirmation of her feelings, beyond light teasing such as "and is that why you came to see me?" in 4x07.
But in the event of her death, she wants Shaw to know the true extent of her feelings. Given that she always intended it to be this way, this means the message isn't for her benefit - it's for Shaw's. She wants Shaw to know beyond a shadow of doubt that Root loved and understood her for exactly who she is, and has no expectations for what her grieving process should look like. She doesn't want Shaw to ever feel like she isn't enough.
A variation of this also appears in 4x11. In one of the Machine's simulations, Root calls Shaw while knowing she doesn't have long left and it is the only time we see her push for any sort of confirmation about their relationship. She says, "Why are you so afraid to talk about your feelings? [...] We're perfect for each other. You're gonna figure that out someday." and is elated with Shaw's reply that "maybe someday [...] we can talk about it."
Since the Machine is able to accurately predict Her assets and knows Root's final request well enough to carry it out in 5x13, She knows this is the one situation where Root would push the issue enough to make it clear that she loves Shaw and that she would be thrilled with any degree of confirmation Shaw chooses to give.
Their conversation in the real timeline begins in exactly the same way, with Root in a dire situation calling Shaw to say, "Hey, sweetie. You busy?". Shaw replies, "A little. Skip the verbal foreplay, Root. Why are you calling?" and Root says, "Can't a couple of gals take a little break from work to catch up?". However, at this point Shaw arrives in the stock exchange and the team's chance of survival increases considerably.
The rest of their conversation plays out similarly, but is toned down. Root says, "We're so good at this together. You're gonna realize that someday." Where the simulation began with Root asking a direct question about Shaw's feelings, this is an open statement that doesn't put any pressure on Shaw to respond.
Shaw replies, "Root, no offense. You're hot, you're good with a gun. Those are two qualities I greatly admire. But you and me together would be like a four-alarm fire in an oil refinery." Just like how Root in the simulation was happy with Shaw's response, she cheerily replies, "Sounds cozy." Since at this moment her life is no longer in immediate danger, she doesn't feel the need to say anything further.
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soullumii · 1 year
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hold me steady
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joel miller x f!reader, jackson era, fluff, nonsexual praise kink (is that a thing?)
no smut, just fluff | 1.5k words
Joel teaches you how to shoot a sniper while on your first patrol, praising you all the while.
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As pretty as it was, winter in Jackson was your least favorite.
Especially when you were put on patrols.
The white snow crunched beneath your boot-clad feet as you and Joel traversed the mountainside looking out for Infected, the cold seeping through your jeans and coat.
The patrol was going smoothly with barely any Infected showing up on the well-worn path. And when one did, Joel took it out easily, or you managed to shoot them with your pistol before they could land a hit. For your first patrol, it wasn’t bad at all. And Joel helped ease the small seed of anxiety in your stomach.
He walked a few steps ahead of you, pistol at the ready as you both trudged through the white forest toward a cliffside.
“You doin’ alright back there?” he called out to you.
“Yep! Just fine,” you responded, hands clenched over your own pistol. You had only shot it a few times before in training and the couple of times you and Joel had come face to face with an Infected on this outing.
You were out with Joel for a purpose: to practice.
Joel was proficient in anything dealing with Infected. Stabbing, fist fighting, shooting, you name it—he knew.
You were…not as well versed. You had been in a QZ for most of your life, working as a teacher. Things in the QZ weren’t good by any means, but it was better than fighting for yourself out in no man’s land. However, that ended when Fireflies launched several attacks on the QZ. Thankfully, you had managed to escape, although narrowly.
You were left stumbling around in Wyoming after that, doing your best to avoid Infected. All you had was the switchblade FEDRA gave all their school teachers and a few MREs in your pack.
Then, a patrol from Jackson had found you, freezing, hungry, and alone and they thankfully took you in.
You worked as a teacher for them, too, helping the little kids of Jackson learn about history and math, and English. You loved it. Jackson was so much kinder than the QZ. However, they did require everyone older than 18 to partake in patrols every now and then. You hadn’t been on one yet, having been only briefly trained on how to hold a gun and shoot.
With school out for the holidays, now was the perfect time for your first patrol, and Joel Miller was the one to take you.
You had met him a couple of times before at the Tipsy Bison and at the few community events they held in Jackson. He was a kind man, if not a bit rugged, and you couldn’t help the feelings for him that had begun to form after your interactions. And, he seemed to reciprocate them, too.
Joel didn’t exactly fit the rumors you had heard of him: that he was villainous, ruthless, and merciless. You could sense that those qualities were hidden away inside him, but that they were only used in dire situations. And Ellie had told you as much when you and she became more acquainted.
You loved Ellie. She and Dina would pop over to the school and have snowball fights with the kids or play tag with them. It warmed your heart to see the kids enjoy a life that wouldn’t have been possible if it weren’t for the founders of Jackson.
Or for the patrols that kept it safe.
Joel held up a hand and you stopped, holding your breath. You could hear it before he even pointed it out: the wailing of Infected. They sounded far enough away, but they could still be a potential threat to Jackson.
Joel waved you forward and you both crouched behind a boulder, peering across the cliffside to hone in on the stray Infected huddling over a carcass of a deer. You tucked your pistol into the back of your jeans.
“What do we do?” You whispered. They were too far to fire at with the pistol, and the valley between you and them was too wide to jump across. Thankfully, that meant they wouldn’t be able to get to you, but it also meant you couldn’t get to them.
Joel reached behind him and grabbed the sniper slung over his shoulder. “We take ‘em out.” He looked down at you and held out the weapon. “You ever shoot one of these?”
You reared back, staring at the gun with wide eyes. You were a little scared having only handled a much smaller gun, but a part of you was curious, excited even, to be taught to handle one of this caliber. “No, I haven’t.”
“Take it, I’ll show you.”
He handed it to you. It was heavier than you thought (Joel made it look as light as a feather) and you fumbled a bit, accidentally pointing the barrel at him. His eyes widened in surprise and he laughed, guiding the barrel away from him and towards the cliffside with two fingers. “Easy…”
“Sorry—”
“You’re fine, darlin’.”
With the gun in your hold, Joel brought down the stands and propped it over the top of the boulder. He guided it so that the back of the gun hit the crook of your shoulder, snug in the folds of your big jacket.
“Alright, lean down so that your cheek lines up with the stock,” he guided, and you followed. “Good, put your hand here, the other goes up here. Keep your finger off the trigger.”
You listened, doing exactly as he said. “You’re doin’ great, much better listener than Ellie was.”
You laughed, hands shaking a bit around the gun, but Joel’s praise had you warming up amidst the freezing cold. You could imagine Ellie groaning about being told what to do, or whining when she didn’t make the shot, and you giggled quietly into the gun, then you remembered what you were giggling into and you froze.
“You okay?” Joel asked you, voice soft.
You nodded and swallowed your trepidation as you stared at the murder machine in your grip. “Yeah… I’m fine.”
“Good,” he gave your back a comforting rub with a large, gloved hand. “I want you to get used to the feelin’ of it. It’s not gonna be kind to you when you pull that trigger, so hold her close, like you’re ‘bout to lose her.”
You side-eyed him, thinking that perhaps he was joking, but Joel’s eyes were hard. He was stern as he peered down at you, and you felt a bit antsy, as if you were about to be graded on your performance.
You instead focused your attention on the task at hand rather than how he was making you feel, and tried to follow along, holding the sniper tight but not too tight to where you were uncomfortable. Just tight enough to where you felt it wouldn’t leave your side, just like he said.
“Okay…now what?”
“Now look through that scope and find your first target. Make sure ya leave room for the bullet to drop. Aim it a lil’ bit higher than your target.”
You did as he said, watching the reticle of the scope lift up above the head of a snarling Infected.
“Okay, got it.”
“Good job, darlin’. Now, take a deep breath in and slowly breathe it out, squeeze the trigger like you love it—nice and slow. Steady.”
You breathed in, your nerves taking over. The deep breath helped, but you knew it would be loud—you couldn’t brace yourself for the sound. After a long wavering moment, you squeezed the trigger.
BOOM!
When you opened your eyes, the Infected was still standing.
“What—?”
“You flinched. And you closed your eyes.”
“Oh." How did you manage to mess up so badly? "I’m sorry.”
“No worries, let’s try again, okay?"
You nodded and he instructed you again. "Pull back on that lever to eject the cartridge.” You followed, flinching a little when the cartridge flew out and sunk into the snow.
Anxiety gripped your throat. “Joel, I don’t know if I can do this—”
“You can, baby.” He shuffled in closer, his warmth transferred to you as he laid his hands over yours. His chest pressed into your back. He squeezed your palms around the rifle and you relaxed into him. “Breathe. Line up. You’ve got this.”
You’ve got this.
If Joel believed in you, you could do it.
You took a deep breath and peered through the scope, lined it up with the Infected, and aimed a little bit higher to make room for the bullet to drop.
“One…two…three…shoot.”
You loosed your breath and pulled the trigger like you loved it right on his command without hesitation, and Joel held you steady, body warm as he curled around you, arms strong as he gripped the sniper right along with you. The gun didn’t jerk this time and the sound wasn’t as bad since you knew it was coming. The bullet flew across the cliffside, and the Infected across the way wailed as the round sunk into its skull, collapsing to the ground.
“That’s it. Good girl.” Joel praised, patting your back and squeezing your arm. “I’m proud of you.”
You grinned and looked up at him. His eyes focused on you with pride, and a smile pulled at his lips. “Can you do another for me?”
For Joel? You’d do anything. Especially if it meant he’d look at you like that again.
You ejected the cartridge and lined up again. “Yeah, I can.”
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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 10 months
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In Dire Need
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~1.6k
Warnings: tw: shooting, performing surgery with a gun to your head, tw: pregnancy, tw: miscarriage, super major angst
Request by anon: Tw shooting: Hi there can I get a Spencer Reid x surgeon where the hospital goes on lockdown bc of a shooter and its like Greys Anatomy where in 6x24 reader goes through what Cristina does? And Spencer doesn’t find out until some members of the BAU point out how “brave” his s/o is to him when they saw footage of the operation room? Thank you 
Summary: Spencer drops you off at work without worrying if you're not going to make it home or not. Then, reports of a shooter in the hospital you work in come flooding in and now Spencer's whole world crashes down around him.
Square Filled: held at gunpoint for @badthingshappenbingo
Author’s Note: If you've seen the shooting episode of Grey's Anatomy, then you pretty much know what to expect with Christina and with what happened to Meredith.
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Spencer pulls up to the hospital you work at, and you turn to him with a sweet smile.
“Thank you for driving me.”
“Of course.”
You lean up and kiss him quickly before leaving the car.
“Remember, we have date night tonight. I have a present for you.”
“I can’t wait.”
You leave his side and walk into the hospital with tens of other people trying to either get to work or see their loved ones. Spencer notices a tall man walk in right behind you but he doesn’t think anything of it. He puts the car into drive and heads to the BAU which is only a quick twenty minutes away. Derek greets Spencer as soon as he comes in and he hands him a coffee.
“Thanks.”
“How’s Y/N doing?”
“She’s doing her best. I don’t know how she and Savannah work in hospitals. They must see more gore than we do. Plus, their hours are longer than ours.”
“I guess the same thing can be said about our jobs.”
“True,” Spencer chuckles and sips his coffee.
JJ walks into the room with a worried look on her face and she turns the news on for all to see.
“This just in. Quantico State Hospital is on complete lockdown as reports of a shooter come from within. Doctors are rushing to get patients out in an orderly fashion, but the location of the shooter is still unknown. The Quantico Police Department and SWAT have already arrived on scene, but not much is known at this stage in the investigation.”
“This just happened ten minutes ago,” JJ says as everyone gathers in the bullpen.
“No, that can’t be. I just dropped Y/N off. Everything was fine,” Spencer panics.
“The police are getting calls after calls from people inside the hospital. They’re evacuating the wings who aren’t affected as of right now. There’s no telling where this guy is going, who his target is, or how many people are affected inside.”
Spencer takes out his phone and dials you but your phone goes straight to voicemail. Spencer visually begins to panic and Derek places his hand on his shoulder to help calm him down.
“We need to go down there and help.”
“I agree,” Hotch says, “but we can’t go inside until we know the situation.”
“I don’t care. I just need to get down there.”
By the time the BAU gets to the hospital, the roads have been closed off, and a lot of patients and doctors are in the parking lot separated from less urgent to most urgent in terms of who needs to be taken care of first. First responders and doctors use what’s in ambulances to help keep some of the patients alive, but there is a great deal still left inside the hospital.
“Commander, what is going on?” Hotch asks.
“I came over with my guys as soon as I heard the calls. The dispatch center is getting calls left and right about this.”
The man plays a few recordings of calls that came into the 911 dispatch center.
“There is a shooter in the hospital! Send everyone!”
“My friend is dead. Please send help. I’m scared!”
“I don’t know what you have to do but we need help in here! The shooter is tall with blonde hair and facial hair. I don’t know where he went.”
The next call captures Spencer’s attention because it’s you.
“There is an active shooter right now, and I’m in the middle of surgery that I can’t stop. Last I heard he was in the OR wing where I am. Send help!”
“That’s my wife!” Spencer gasps.
“Yeah, it’s always someone’s wife or daughter,” the Commander sighs.
If the shooter is in the OR wing where you are, are you okay? Are you even alive?
“Why aren’t you going inside?”
“We don’t know the situation yet. We don’t know where the shooter is or how extensive the damage is. If we go in now, we could scare the shooter into killing more people.”
“This isn’t happening right now,” Spencer sighs and pulls at his hair gently. He looks at Derek and Hotch in desperation. “What if it were Savannah? Beth?”
As much as it sucks, Hotch could use a person on the inside. He knows and trusts his team to go inside and de-escalate the situation while the others find a way to get inside the safest. Hotch gives Spencer two nods and he takes off running to the entrance. Derek steps in the way of the officers that try to stop Spencer but aren’t successful.
There are a few bodies by the entrance since that is where the shooter stuck first. He strains his ears to hear where the shooter might be since the entire hospital is filled with a deafening silence. He doesn’t have time for this when you could be in danger. He prays that you’re alright as he safely and carefully runs to the OR wing.
He looks into each OR as he passes by but you’re not in any of them. That is until he reaches the last one. On the floor in the scrubber room are two doctors or nurses who jump at the sound of the door opening. They relax when they see his FBI vest, and he puts his hands up to let them know he isn’t a threat to them.
“I’m with the FBI. Who else is in here?”
“My boyfriend got shot,” one of the doctors says. “My best friend is doing surgery on him now.” 
Spencer takes a couple of steps into the scrubber room to look through the window to see what’s going on. That’s when his whole world comes crashing down around him. You’re there doing surgery on your friend’s boyfriend with another surgeon on the opposite side of you, but the shooter is inside with a gun pointed at your head. Tears are streaming down your face because you refuse to stop fixing the man on the table.
“Uh, stay down there.” Spencer takes his phone out and hands it to one of the doctors. “Call for help. Tell them Spencer Reid with the FBI is in OR 3 of the surgery wing. Tell them he says to send the team in.”
“Okay,” the doctor says and grabs his phone.
Spencer slowly walks into the OR with his gun raised. The shooter immediately moves the gun from your head to Spencer when he sees him.
“Spencer,” you cry as you work.
“Drop the gun,” Spencer orders the man.
The man moves the gun back over to you and shoves it into the side of your head. You sob loudly at the thought of leaving Earth like this in front of the man you love.
“I will shoot her if you don’t lower your gun.”
Spencer has no choice but to listen to what he says. If your life is on the line, then he’ll do anything to save it. He drops his gun to the floor and kicks it away per the shooter’s instructions.
“Let him die.” When you don’t, he presses the gun into your head again, and you sob. “Do you want me to shoot you?”
“Y/N--”
“No, I can’t stop,” you cut your husband off.
Spencer needs to get that gun away from you so he takes one step toward the shooter, and he aims the gun at Spencer instead. With the threat of the gun off you, you and the other surgeon work quickly to do as much as you can as long as you can do it.
“The person you’re holding a gun to is the woman I love.”
“The man on the table, Dr. Greystone, is responsible for killing my wife. I was justice!”
“If you kill that man then justice won’t be served. Knowing that this doctor is rotting in prison for killing your wife is justice, and I can make that happen. All you need to do is put the gun down.” Out of the corner of his eye, Spencer sees the knobless door to the OR room open. Hotch and Derek walk in with their guns raised silently so as to not alert the shooter that they’re there. “I will make sure this doctor goes away for a long time. Just drop the gun.”
Whatever he sees in Spencer seems to work because the shooter drops the gun with tears in his eyes. Hotch keeps the gun trained on him while Derek jumps into action. He grabs the man and kicks the gun away before putting handcuffs on him. You’re just about done with this surgery anyway, so you hand the stitch and needle to your coworker and run over to Spencer. 
When you feel the comfort of his arms around you, you break down crying.
As soon as the shooter is apprehended, doctors and patients are allowed back inside. Paramedics come rushing in to tend to the wounded. Your friend and her boyfriend are transferred to a room, and you’re taken outside with Spencer while the rest of the BAU help where needed.
“I’m sorry,” you cry. “I had to keep going. This hospital is my family. I couldn’t let my best friend’s boyfriend die.”
“I know. I’m so sorry you had to go through this. I’m glad you’re okay.”
Spencer pulls you in for a hug and you put a hand to your stomach in thought. You have a pregnancy stick waiting for Spencer at home because you’re you wanted to surprise him that you’re pregnant but after what just happened, you might not be.
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Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
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fortune-fool02 · 1 year
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Pollito
Luis Serra x female reader
Requested by: anonymous
Ok, Im latino, and in my family and with a lot of my friends we use pollito as a term of endearment but some people who aren't aware of that take offense because it means little chicken. Could we have a Luis x reader where he keeps calling them pollito and they get upset because they think he's trying to insult them and they have a whole moment where he explains that not what he means by it<3
Warning: No Spoiler for RE 4 Remake. Fluff.
I love this so much, it's so cute!
Thank you and please enjoy.
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Looking back on this, there was a few questions that bounced around in [Name]'s head. Why did those people want Ashley so badly? What was their plan with this cursed parasite? But most of all: What the Hell was she doing here?
She was a researcher, brought on this mission to help Leon to learn more about potential dangerous pathogens and B.O.Ws, to gather intel and information. She had hardly ever been out in the field like Leon had. So, why on Earth was she standing in the middle of a plague-riddled island with a gun? Taking a moment, [Name] leaned against the building wall, her breathing rapid and sharp, adrenaline pumping through her veins.
Leon, however, appeared unfazed as he checked over his ammo and reloaded his gun. Fear rushed along her body, sapping away her energy though she kept going. She had to, for Ashley and Leon. It gripped at her from the moment they encountered those infected people, the savage looks in their eyes, how they held no quarrel with charging weapons at them. Any attempt at reasoning with them was useless.
Still, [Name] tried her best to stand her ground. Even when Leon told her to move back and leave it to him to handle. She was dead-weight at this point. Thankfully, they weren't alone in their little quest.
Luis was a character indeed. A man riddled with a mysterious aura that only peaked her curiosity. Sweet flirtations spilling from his lips when it wasn't a witty quip or comment. The man was also a researcher, like her. Yet he held a bravery to him also, holding his ground against the infected. If he could do it, why couldn't she?
"Wooh! That was something, eh?" Luis smiled, spinning his gun a little before returning it to its holster. Pulling a tissue out, he wiped away the splatters of blood off his face before tossing it away. He leaned up against one of the crates that was spared from Leon's little rampage of destroying some to snatch potential bullets laying about.
"Yeah. Sure." [Name] hummed, trying to shake off the lingering panic. An axe had been launched at her head, missing her by inches as it embedded into the wall beside her head. At that point, she just froze. Luis having to step in to finish off the infected man before he launched another. Never in her entirely life had she had a close brush with death like that. Even when handling pathogens and experimentations, there were safety precautions put in place, ways to ensure the minimum risk of danger. Out here, there was no such thing.
"Oh, come on, pollito, give me a smile." Pollito? She knew some basics of the language to know what it meant. [Name] knew she wasn't the bravest but this was her first time in a situation as dire as this. She wasn't that bad of a coward to be called a chicken, was she? Embarrassment coiled inside her, chocking out the fear and clotting up in its place.
Her eyes tore away from Luis and looked down, pulling out some green and red herbs they got earlier, crushing them up to combine them together into a vial. They had shown to have some unique properties regarding healing, and often were of great use to them. She shuffled over to Leon and set the vial beside him without a word and turned to the small map they had, outlining the island and isolated sections.
They had to cross the lake still, now that they had the fuel for it. Luis having been trying to speak to her only to receive dry, short responses, if not a hum of some degree. Confusion painted his face at her sudden silent treatment. Leon told them to quickly check the surrounding shacks for supplies while he got the boat ready.
[Name] forced open some boxes and picked up any loose bullets or herbs that she found. The door to the small shack softly thudded as Luis stood there, his grey eyes locked onto her, swirling with a mix of concern and confusion.
"[Name], what's the matter? You've been awfully quiet." His question was only responded by a plain "nothing", that didn't satisfy his question at all. He walked over to her, closing the distance between them and had her look at him. "Tell me the truth, pollito."
Another wave of humiliation hit her and she could feel the light sting of tears threatening to build up behind her eyes. She couldn't cry now. "Look, I try my best here. I'm not used to this shit, those things out there! I'm a researcher who spent most of my career behind a desk or counter, not out in the field surrounded by murdererous madmen!"
Luis looked at her, listening to her pour out the built up concerns and worries. "So, I'm sorry that I'm a chicken but you have to get it." A moment passed before Luis softly chuckled at this. His warm smile lifting his face.
"[Name], pollito is a term of endearment for my family. We use it as a pet name or nickname, I'm not insulting you." He leaned against the table a bit, resting his weight. "I never once insulted your bravery. If anything, it's impressive."
His words cut through her, filling her chest with a pleasant comforting warmth, purging away the humiliation pestering her but moments ago. Luis smiled at her, noting her shoulders relax slightly as she took in what he said. He wasn't insulting her. He was just calling her a pet name.
"....oh." That was all she could say. She did feel a little silly now. Luis simply walked over and gently tilted her head up to him, a playful glimmer in his eyes.
"Do you think you can give me a smile, pollito?" He hummed. [Name] lifted her lips, giving him a small smile.
"Ah, there we go."
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trekkingaroundasgard · 5 months
Text
Midnight Meetings (Clint Barton x Reader)
Summary: In the middle of the night you wait to meet your contact for the upcoming mission. He's not quite what you expected.
Gender: Neutral
Rating: Gen/Teen
Tags: SHIELD!Reader, first meetings, spies, eventual colleagues to lovers
Words: 1.1k
Note: The first part in a mini series. It will be updated... at some point.
@thehawkeyesbingo prompt: "Quick catch that flamingo, it stole my wallet"
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The seat in the booth behind you creaked. You glanced to your left, attempting to steal a look at the man – you assumed, from the light smell of aftershave. However, a server stood directly in front of the mirrored surface where you could have caught a glimpse. You expected her to move any moment but she didn’t; apparently, flirting with the line cook was much more important than serving truck drivers cold, drip coffee.
Slowly, you reached into your jacket, fingers curling around the handle of your pistol. The last thing you wanted was to whip out a gun in the middle of the shitty motorway diner but it was better to be safe than sorry. Should things turn sour, the nearest exit was less than five steps away and your secondary escape remained unblocked.
You stiffened as the man moved, lazily stretching his arm across the thin surface that separated your booths. He twisted his head, not quite enough to bring him into your peripheral but close enough to your ear to whisper, “Catch that flamingo.”
The grip on your gun loosened. “It stole my wallet,” you responded quietly. If the situation weren’t so dire, you’d be suppressing an eye-roll about now. Whoever came up with these ridiculous countersigns had issues.
Without another word, he dropped a folded note into your open bag which you then gathered casually along with your coat. Leaving a few notes on the table, you walked out to the car park without looking up from the ground. It was only as you sat in your car, fastening your seatbelt, that you finally caught a look at the man you were to partner with through the diner window.
It was difficult to make out details from this angle, not helped by the reflection of the neon sign on the glass, but you saw enough to know who you’d be looking for later. Short blond hair, broad frame. Otherwise unremarkable. Just what you’d expect from a spy.
You unfolded the paper he’d given and frowned.
A New York pizza menu?
You were used to cryptic clues from both your sources and your superiors but even by those standards this seemed left field. Were you supposed to call the proprietor and ask for mighty meat? Perhaps it was a front for the New York branch of SHIELD, a way for agents in the field to get the information they needed. But what good would that do you half way across the world?
You looked at the leaflet again, this time giving it more than a confused cursory glance, and there you saw it. Scribbled in the bottom corner, a telephone number with a distinctly local calling code. A quick search returned the name and address of a crappy hotel about half an hour away.
It was probably a bit paranoid to assume you were being followed but you checked for a tail nonetheless before heading towards the hotel. The guy on the desk was half asleep when you arrived, a victim of perpetually unlucky scheduling judging by the dark bags under his eyes. He didn’t bother to check your fake ID, instead simply handing over a preprepared room key and pointing vaguely up the stairs.
The overhead lights were too bright for this time of night so you only switched on the bedside lamp. Perched on the edge of the bed, in the relative darkness, you pulled the case folder from your duffle bag and skimmed through the files once more. Halfway down the page, you heard a gentle knock.
You peered through the viewer and saw a blond man. Or, rather, a very intense close up of his nose and an eye. “I caught the flamingo.”
Clearly more tired than you thought, your mind blanked entirely on the correct response. It didn’t matter, though, you rationed, since he had already come to your door. Flicking the lock, you opened the door wide enough for him to step through before locking it again. Gesturing towards the beds, you said, “How does that one go?”
“Huh?”
“The countersign. I caught the flamingo…”
“He’s a slippery bastard.” He flopped onto the bed and dragged a large palm down his face. With a sigh that seemed to come from deep inside his bones, he said, “I don’t know. It’s not a real sign. I’m too tired to think. Just needed you to open the door. What time is it?”
“About two thirty.”
“Right.” The man sat suddenly, like someone had yanked on a puppet string and pulled him upright. “Well. It’s nice to meet you and all but I’ve gotta make some calls and get everything ready for tomorrow. You’ve got the files?”
You nodded towards the brown folder that you’d been reading before he interrupted.
“Great. I’ll brief you in the morning.”
He looked up and suddenly seemed to see you for the first time. Not fast enough to hide the interest that flickered across his gaze, he instead leaned into it. You’d have shrunk under such over attention from any other agent, especially one you’d just met, but there was something about him, something magnetic. The bedside lamp cast a warm light over his face, highlighting both the sharp features and the softness in his smile.
Resting back on his hands, you couldn’t help but mirror his appreciation. The bedside lamp worked doubly hard to emphasise the thickness and strength of his muscles. The midnight chill had set in but he hardly seemed bothered; with no jacket to hide beneath, you were given a full view of the tight pull of his shirt across his chest and the prominent veins along his arms. You doubted if you’d be able to wrap your hand around the muscles, so large were they.
He unashamedly let his gaze drop to your lips, your neck, your chest, before dragging his attention slowly back up to your eyes. “I’m Clint, by the way.”
You gave your name in return and felt your stomach twist when he smiled back. Forcing some semblance of professionalism into the ever shrinking space between you, you stretched out a hand and tried not to shiver at the sparks which danced across your skin when he shook it.
Slowly pulling it back, pretending that his simple touch hadn’t set your nerves on fire, you said, “I look forward to working with you, Clint.”
“Get some rest,” he said softly, finally pushing up off the bed and heading towards the door. “I’m in one-oh-six if you need me.”
There was an invitation there, in the inflection, the up tick of his grin, you were certain. Not tonight, you cautioned yourself. Maybe after the mission was over. Yeah. If he still looked at you the same way after this was done, after he learned what you really were, then you’d accept the invitation. Not a moment sooner, though.
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prodbyblush · 1 year
Note
happy new year pretty blush!!!! hope you got angpao❤️ can i request lil drabbles or headcanons of niragi and chishiya with some freak of an inventor and engineer crush? like she's constantly holed up in her lab making bots and explosives and guns and even makes them special little things like cutesy grenades that dont look like grenades ??
now loading …
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ 100%
ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ!
・❥・ requested
an: belated happy new year to you too, anony! sadly i did not get angpao because it's me who's giving away angpao's now : ( for context, angpao's are those red envelopes filled with money. usually elders give those to their grandkids but since i'm an adult already i guess i don't qualify anymore. tragic i know. but hey i'm not that old!
ps. in general sense, reader here is a weapon engineer.
→ fem!reader
Chishiya:
• the conversations are to die for. call it an aphrodisiac but the flow of questions and responses are so smooth that the two of you wouldn't notice that time kept ticking. because that's how engrossed he is on learning about the latest news on weaponry and it's purposes. • when his co workers knew that he is dating an engineer, the immediate response he gets is "oh they're boring" but it's actually the opposite! • so much knowledge leaking! chishiya's getting ideas on how to craft weapons from various items if he finds himself in dire situations. • knows how much ambition you have for yourself and honestly he's rooting for your success. • admires your logical and calm nature. his rotating shift can be a hassle but he's thankful than you can understand him. to compensate for it, he'll ask you to come to his office to eat and catch up! • when the time comes and you're working on a project that disables you two from meeting up, chishiya will ask if there is anything he can help you with. you're not only bonding together but he's also helping you out! • having a hard time reviewing a complex topic or subject? no worries! he's helping you review by asking you questions and creating flash cards. • he has a bit of trouble figuring out the acronyms you use on him but in the later days, he's already memorized them as well. • nurtures and babies you when you fail or get a passable remark on your test.
Niragi:
• since the boy-girl ratio in an engineering class is askewed, he is hawk eyed every time he is in your campus. on the lookout for any guy that gets too friendly to you. • likes how you always have logical reasoning and thinking in various situations. as someone who doesn't use his logical, you two balance each other perfectly. • finds it hot when you lead him. it doesn't matter who wears the pants in the relationship. • unlike chishiya, niragi is accustomed to the acronyms. sometimes, you two even use it while talking. • "what time is your EOD?", "oh your weekend is TBD?", "i'm currently working on an MMOG" • is patient with you. he knows you deal with existential crises, so he hears out everything that you tell him. • just want to have movie and pizza for a date? he's totally okay with it! it may be a lowkey effort but since he's spending time with you, it's perfect already. • two smart people having the most sarcastic comebacks, witty one liners and dry sense of humor dating? yes. • he's "gravitionally" pulled by your knowledge. knowledge is sexy, right? • he is on his toes as you leave him with his curiosity. he needs it to be satiated by you.
TAGS: @retrospacealien @chishiya-of-diamonds @ang3liclov3ly @kenqki @shadowheads-shitshow @lunoxxy @supercoffeeblogs
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howtofightwrite · 2 years
Note
You're an experienced bodyguard. You have a VIP. You're pinned down in the top floor of a hotel. You have access to any given type of firearm you might need--pistol, shotgun, SMG, assault rifle--and your VIP knows how to load, handle and fire one, but has never been in a real combat situation. What do you give her in the dire event that she has to defend herself?
That's easy, you don't; for a multitude of reasons.
First, it puts the protectee in danger. Even on the superficial scenario of having a bodyguard and a protectee in a firefight, the bodyguard is going to be focus of incoming fire. They're the ones shooting at the attackers, meaning the attackers are going to be more concerned with dropping the bodyguard first, and then mopping up. If you arm the protectee and they start shooting people, then the attackers are going to have to pick between shooting at the two people firing on them, and of course, if they kill the protectee, that defeats the entire exercise.
Second, that lack of combat experience is actually a big deal. You cannotpredict how someone will react to live combat. Granted, in the specific context of being the omnipotent author of your world, youknow, but the characters in it should not. Arming an inexperienced protectee can result in some verydangerous situations. You do not want to hand someone a gun who, in a moment of panic, reasons that since you're the one shooting at the attackers, maybe if they kill you it will save their life, completely missing the part where the attackers are there to harm them. You do not want to hand someone a gun, only to have them start firing on the friendly extraction team when it arrives, in a moment of panic. Both of these are potential scenarios that can be completely avoided by simply not arming them.
If you're a bodyguard for a VIP, the only time you want your protectee armed is if she's pulling your pistol off your corpse. Okay, that is a little hyperbolic, there are some other scenarios where the protectee might arm themselves, but most of those are going to be cases where their entire security entourage is already dead.
As for what the bodyguards were using originally, that's going to depend pretty heavily on who they were, and who they were protecting. In most cases, they're specifically going to carry weapons they can hide under a suit coat, which already excludes a lot of assault rifles and shotguns. Ironically, this also runs against my biases. If you're talking about room to room fighting, my preference would be a Benelli M4, but that will not fit under a sport coat. Just because your character has access to a wide range of military hardware doesn't mean they can carry all of that with them, and people in polite society tend to get a bit nervous when a security detail rolls in carrying tactical shotguns.
This leads to another issue. For the moment, let's assume your character is carrying around a Kel-Tec KSG. This is a fairly compact shotgun, and something they might be able to carry concealed (though, that's a little debatable, because it is still pretty chunky), and they get pinned down on the top floor. That shotgun is going to be farmore effective in their hands than the protectee's. If anything goes wrong with it (or they use all fourteen shells), then they can fall back on their sidearm. If they hand their sidearm over to the protectee, and the KSG has an issue, they're are now unarmed, and need to negotiate back their own gun from the protectee, while they're getting shot at. This is a bad situation on so many levels.
Generally speaking, you're not going to carry extra guns that you don't foresee a potential need for. This means, it's likely even if your security team's armory is filled with high end military hardware, they're not likely to carry a lot of that unless they're expecting problems. If this was supposed to be a reasonably secure hotel, with its own security staff, your bodyguard is probably going to be carrying a handgun, with possibly a backup pistol in case the main one suffers a mechanical failure. This is, ironically, one of the nice things with Glocks. A compact or subcompact Glock will take the magazines from the larger variants in that same caliber. So, for example, if your character carries a Glock 17 and Glock 26, if their 17 is disabled or lost, they can still load their remaining Glock 17 mags into their 26 without issue. (Note: this is not true of the other9mm subcompact, the Glock 43, which is significantly slimmer, and uses a non-compatible magazine.) Even in a situation like this, your character would have the backup in case they needed it, not to randomly hand it out.
So, the short version remains, no competent bodyguard would arm their protectee in a situation like this. It would actively put their protectee in greater danger.
-Starke
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night-wilf · 2 years
Text
Writing prompt 07:
The Fentons wake up to the rest of Amity and the ghost zone suddenly missing. The only thing around the being feilds and forests. Packing up and moving to another city as they figure out what happened. That city being Gotham as the spirit of the city welcomes them as refugees of an unknown disaster.
Jack and Maddie largely keep their craziness at home to blend in and become forensics in Gotham PD as it's one of the few things they can do well. Taking a few well paid quiet contracts from some criminals on the side to make ends meet. Which does give them a reputation they don't like with the big names. After Danny is approaches during work they burst in the guns blazing and make it clear their kids are no part of the business.
Jazz puts her psychology degree to good use and gets a job at the asylum helping who she has. Harley seems to like her and her incredible strength is helpful with break outs.
Danny and Ellie/Dani find a few coffee shops to take them even though they are underage. Using their lack of sleep needed to be nightduty backup for Gotham PD. Recommended by Jack and Maddie who says they are meta's they adopted and trained. Gordan is skeptical but keeps them on as long as they only use their powers in dire situations, appreciating the shields when things get hairy against trigger happy goons.
Dan comes along for the ride as he found himself on the living room floor that morning, just as shocked as his family and now incredible protective of his family. Gets his way into the private school as a janitor and a few night clubs as door guards at night. He mostly uses his minimum ability level with a dampener to keep him from killing anyone.
The chaos becomes worse as Maddie starts using Danny's connections to the magic users of the world to ask if they know of this happening before. Bruce gets a very concerned message from Constantine as he has the King of the Infinite Realms and his family taking refuge in Gotham.
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nayziiz · 2 months
Text
Shadows | LN4
Summary: [Mafia] In the face of dire financial troubles, Lando receives a desperate plea from his father to unearth a lucrative solution within the family business. Fueled by the pressure to rescue his family from ruin, Lando stumbles upon a seemingly perfect venture—using luxury cars as a facade for the clandestine world of drug trafficking. With the unexpected partnership of Amelia Rossi, his father's best friend's daughter, Lando believes he has found the ideal accomplice. However, as the Norris family collides with the ambitious Russells in a ruthless bid to establish their dominance, the perilous path Lando has chosen places not only his newfound enterprise at stake but also entangles Amelia in the dangerous crossfire that unfolds.
Warning: Violence, drugs, blood, smut, fluff, guns
Pairing: Lando Norris x OC (Amelia Rossi) - appearances from other drivers
Masterlist
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Chapter 9
Amelia's longing for Lando consumed her thoughts day and night, leaving her restless and unsettled. For weeks, she grappled with the dilemma of how to extricate herself from her relationship with Charles, knowing that her heart belonged to someone else. Each passing day only intensified her desire to be with Lando, overshadowing any semblance of contentment she had found with Charles.
Finally, after much deliberation and inner turmoil, Amelia mustered the courage to confront Charles and bring an end to their relationship. She approached the conversation with trepidation, fearing the pain she would inevitably inflict upon him. Yet, she knew that prolonging the inevitable would only cause further anguish for both of them.
With a heavy heart, Amelia explained her feelings to Charles, expressing her deepest regrets for not being able to reciprocate the love and devotion he had shown her. To her surprise, Charles received her words with a sense of understanding and grace, accepting her decision with a quiet resignation.
"It's clear that things haven't been right between us for some time," Charles conceded, his tone tinged with a hint of sadness. "I've always known that there was something holding you back, something you couldn't quite put into words."
Amelia felt a pang of guilt at the pain she saw reflected in Charles's eyes, knowing that she was the cause of his heartache. Yet, she also felt a sense of relief at having finally freed herself from the constraints of a relationship that could never fulfil her deepest desires.
Amelia's heart raced as she contemplated the forthcoming conversation with Lando. She knew that she couldn't keep the truth hidden any longer, not from him. The weight of George's blackmail hung heavy on her shoulders, a burden she could no longer bear alone. Lando deserved to know the full extent of the turmoil that had plagued her, to understand the reasons behind her actions and the sacrifices she had made.
Summoning every ounce of courage she possessed, Amelia resolved to lay bare her soul to Lando, to reveal the depth of her feelings and the truth of her circumstances. She knew it wouldn't be easy, that the words would likely catch in her throat and her voice would tremble with emotion, but she was determined to face him with honesty and transparency.
As the rain pelted down relentlessly, turning the world outside into a blur of grey, Amelia's car sputtered to a stop on the side of the deserted road. The sudden jolt as the engine died left her heart pounding in her chest, a sinking feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. With a frustrated sigh, she glanced out the window, only to find the rain coming down in sheets, obscuring her view of the road ahead.
For a moment, she sat there, frozen in disbelief, the reality of her situation sinking in. She was stranded in the middle of nowhere, with no one in sight to offer assistance. The realisation sent a shiver down her spine, a wave of panic threatening to overwhelm her.
But then, with a steely determination, she pushed aside her fear and set to work. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the flashlight from the glove compartment and stepped out into the pounding rain. The cold water soaked through her clothes, plastering her hair to her skin and sending shivers down her spine, but she refused to let it deter her.
With nimble fingers, she popped open the trunk and retrieved the spare tire and the jack, her hands shaking with cold and adrenaline. She struggled to loosen the lug nuts, her fingers slipping on the wet metal, but she refused to give up. With each grunt of effort, each strained tug, she felt a surge of satisfaction, a sense of empowerment coursing through her veins.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she managed to loosen the last lug nut and remove the flat tire. With trembling hands, she positioned the spare tire in place and began to tighten the lug nuts, her movements slow and deliberate despite the pounding rain and the chill that seeped into her bones.
At last, the tire was secure, and she lowered the car back down to the ground. Breathing a sigh of relief, she stepped back and surveyed her handiwork, a sense of pride swelling in her chest. Despite the odds, she had managed to change the tire all by herself, a feat she had never thought herself capable of.
With a weary smile, she climbed back into the car, her clothes clinging to her skin and her hair dripping with rainwater. She turned the key in the ignition, half expecting the engine to protest, but to her relief, it roared to life without hesitation. With a sense of triumph, she pulled back onto the road and continued on her journey towards the Norris estate.
As the windshield wipers struggled to keep up with the downpour, Amelia's vision blurred not just from the rain but from her tears streaming down her face. Each droplet on the glass seemed to mirror the turmoil in her heart, a tumultuous mix of regret, fear, and longing.
She couldn't shake the feeling of dread that gnawed at her insides, the fear that she had irreparably damaged her relationship with Lando. With every passing mile, her doubts grew, each mile marker a reminder of the distance that now seemed to stretch between them.
Her thoughts were a jumbled mess, a whirlwind of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. She replayed their last encounter in her mind, the pain in his eyes, the hurt in his voice. She wished she could take it all back, erase the words that had driven him away, but she knew that was impossible.
All she could do now was hope, hope that he could find it in his heart to forgive her, to understand the choices she had made, to see past the mistakes she had made and remember the bond they shared. She knew it wouldn't be easy, knew that trust once broken was not easily mended, but she was willing to do whatever it took to make things right.
Amelia's hands trembled as she dialled the familiar code for security, her heart pounding in her chest with each press of the buttons. The rain continued to pelt down on the roof of her car, adding to the sense of urgency that fueled her every movement. She couldn't shake the feeling of desperation that gripped her, the need to find Lando and set things right between them.
After what felt like an eternity, the gates swung open, and she drove through, her tires splashing through puddles as she made her way up the winding driveway. The estate loomed before her, grand and imposing, a silent witness to the drama unfolding within its walls.
As she parked in front of the imposing front doors, her hands shook as she reached for the handle, her fingers numb with cold and fear. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what lay ahead, before stepping out into the pouring rain.
The security guards, ever vigilant, approached her as she made her way to the door, their expressions unreadable behind their rain-soaked uniforms. She gave them her name, her voice barely above a whisper, and watched as they exchanged a knowing look before asking her to wait.
“Mr Norris, Miss Rossi is outside.” One of the two security guards called Lando.
Lando's heart skipped a beat at the mention of Amelia's name. He had been lost in thought, his mind consumed with thoughts of her, when the security guard's voice broke through his reverie.
“Amelia?” He repeated, his voice barely above a whisper, disbelief colouring his words.
“Yes, sir.” The guard confirmed, his tone neutral but tinged with a hint of curiosity.
Lando's mind raced as he processed the news. He hadn't seen Amelia in weeks, not since their last encounter at Carlos Sainz SR's birthday party. And now, here she was, outside his family home, seeking him out.
“Let her in.” He instructed, his voice steady despite the turmoil churning within him.
The security guard nodded in acknowledgment at Amelia signalling for her to continue towards the front porch of the house. With a heavy heart, she made her way up the steps to the front door, the rain soaking through her clothes as she went. Each step felt like a weight upon her shoulders, a burden she could scarcely bear. But she pressed on, driven by a determination that bordered on desperation. She could feel the eyes of the security guards on her back, their silent scrutiny weighing heavily upon her. But she pushed aside her doubts and fears, her resolve hardening with each passing second.
As Amelia approached the front door, she couldn't shake the feeling of nervousness that gnawed at her insides. Her heart raced in her chest, and her palms felt clammy against the fabric of her coat. She could hardly believe she was here, standing on the doorstep of Lando's family home, about to face him after weeks of uncertainty and turmoil.
The door swung open before her, revealing Lando standing on the threshold. Despite her dishevelled appearance, she couldn't help but notice the concern etched into his features as he took in her bedraggled state.
“Amelia.” He breathed, his voice a mixture of surprise and relief.
“Lando.” She replied, her voice trembling slightly as she met his gaze.
“What happened? Are you OK?” He immediately asked, assessing her physical state and well-being.
“I... I had a flat on the way here and it started raining.” She explained, her teeth chattering as she spoke.
“Fuck, get inside. Let's warm you up before you catch a cold.” He insisted as she stepped aside to let her in and be enveloped by the house’s familiar warmth.
Lando took her up to his room where the fireplace crackled. Lando watched her closely, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity. It was unlike Amelia to be so quiet and reserved, especially in his presence. Usually, she exuded confidence and vitality, her presence filling the room with energy. But tonight, she seemed weighed down by something, her usually vibrant demeanour dimmed by the events of the day.
He took a seat beside her on the plush sofa, leaving a respectful distance between them, yet close enough to offer his support if needed. He studied her features intently, noting the exhaustion etched into the lines of her face and the weariness in her eyes. It was clear that she had been through a lot, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for her.
“Are you okay?” He asked softly, his voice gentle as he broke the silence that hung between them.
Amelia's gaze met his, and for a moment, she seemed to waver, as if debating whether to confide in him. But then, with a sigh, she shook her head, the weight of her emotions evident in the gesture.
“I don't know.”  She admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Today has been... a lot.”
Lando nodded understandingly, his gaze softening as he reached out to gently squeeze her hand in a gesture of comfort.
“You'll need to shower to clean up.” Lando suggested as his eyes swept over her again. “Staying in wet clothes will just make you sick.”
Amelia nodded silently, grateful for the suggestion. She knew she must have looked like a mess after struggling with the flat tire in the rain.
Lando couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity wash over him. This routine, of taking care of Amelia in times of need, felt almost second nature to him. He ran the water, adjusting the temperature to ensure it was just right, all the while lost in thought.
Amelia began to undress, peeling off the wet and muddy layers of clothing that clung uncomfortably to her skin. The sound of the running water served as a soothing backdrop to her thoughts, offering a momentary respite from the events of the day.
Stepping into the shower, she let the warm water wash over her, cleansing away not just the physical grime but also the emotional weight that had settled on her shoulders. With each drop that fell, she felt a sense of renewal, a fresh start beckoning on the horizon.
On the other side of the frosted glass door, Lando remained respectful of her privacy, keeping his eyes from her body and allowing her space to cleanse both body and mind. He retrieved a fresh set of clothes from his room, selecting items he knew would offer her comfort and warmth.
Returning to the bathroom, he left the clothes on the counter, a silent gesture of care and consideration. He lingered for a moment, his gaze lingering on the closed shower door, before retreating back to his room, giving her the time and space she needed.
The warm water cascading down from the showerhead felt like a soothing balm against her tired muscles and weary soul. As she washed away the mud and rainwater, she couldn't help but let her thoughts drift back to the events of the day. The confrontation with George, the emotional turmoil of ending things with Charles, and now, seeking solace in Lando's comforting presence.
Despite the chaos swirling around her, there was a sense of peace to be found in Lando's home, in his room, in his kindness. She couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for his unwavering support, especially in her moments of vulnerability.
Once she had finished showering and dried off, Amelia emerged from the bathroom feeling somewhat refreshed and rejuvenated. She found Lando waiting for her in the bedroom by the fireplace. She looked refreshed and revitalised, a shadow of the weary figure who had entered the bathroom not long before.
Their eyes met briefly, a silent exchange of understanding and gratitude passing between them. Lando offered her a gentle smile, wordlessly acknowledging the strength and resilience she had shown in the face of adversity.
“Feeling better?” Lando asked nervously, careful not to overstep any boundaries or trigger any trauma.
“Yeah. Thank you.” She murmured softly, her voice tinged with gratitude as she approached him. Lando offered her a warm smile in return, his eyes reflecting genuine concern and compassion.
“Anytime.” He replied simply, his tone sincere as he gestured towards the seat on the sofa next to him.
Amelia nodded, a small but genuine expression of gratitude as she sank into the comfort of the sofa by the fireplace. With Lando by her side, she knew she could weather any storm, finding solace in the unwavering support he offered.
As they settled into a comfortable silence, the crackling of the fire providing a soothing backdrop, Amelia allowed herself to relax, the tension of the day slowly melting away.
“You probably hate me.” Amelia eventually spoke, breaking the silence and tension in the room.
“I could never hate you.” Lando assured her as he turned to look at her instead of the crackling fire in front of him.
Amelia's voice wavered slightly as she responded to Lando's words, a mixture of relief and vulnerability evident in her tone. She couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze, her eyes fixed on the flickering flames of the fire instead. She swallowed heavily before offering the explanation for her actions.
“There's a video.” Amelia started, unsure how to broach the conversation.
“What video?” Lando asked, confused.
“Of you and me having sex in your club's office.” She explained, her voice shaking.
Amelia's words hung heavy in the air, the weight of their implications settling over them like a suffocating blanket. Lando's expression shifted from confusion to disbelief, his features contorted with a mixture of shock and anger.
“How is that even possible? Who would do something like that?" He demanded, his voice laced with incredulity.
Amelia's gaze faltered under the intensity of his scrutiny, the weight of her guilt pressing down on her like a crushing weight.
“It's George. He's been blackmailing me, threatening to release the video if I don't comply with his demands.” She admitted, her voice barely audible above the crackling of the fire.
Lando's jaw clenched with fury at the revelation, his hands balling into fists at his sides. The mere thought of someone exploiting their most intimate moments for personal gain filled him with a sense of righteous indignation.
“That son of a bitch.” He growled, his voice low and menacing. “I swear, if I ever get my hands on him…”
Amelia reached out and placed a gentle hand on his arm, her touch a silent plea for restraint.
“Please, Lando.” She implored, her voice tinged with desperation. Lando's expression softened at her words, the fire in his eyes giving way to a deep well of compassion and understanding.
“That's why... that's why you were so adamant about not pursuing anything.” Lando suddenly realised.
“And, I know I hurt you with the stuff I said. I'm so sorry, I should have told you.” Amelia admitted, shame and guilt swirling in her chest.
“I understand. And, I forgive you, Amelia. You don't have to apologise. None of this is your fault.” He replied, his voice gentle and reassuring. “Why did you decide to tell me?”
“Because nothing made sense anymore. I couldn't be without you, Lan.” Amelia conceded, her deepest feelings coming to the forefront.
“Ah, Milly.” He whispered and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, his touch a tender caress against her skin.
“I am so sorry, Lan. I'm sorry I hurt you.” She continued, the tears threatening to spill from her eyes once again.
“It's fine, baby. All that matters is you're here now.” He assured her as he wiped a tear from her cheek.
Lando kissed her temple and then her forehead and then eventually her lips before pulling her into his lap and wrapping his arms around her.
“I didn't know what to do, Lan. I just wanted to protect you.” She further explained as she leaned against him, appreciating his warmth and comfort.
“I know, baby, I know. But you're where you belong. You're safe here. We'll worry about this in the morning, but right now, you need to eat something and get warmed up.” Lando suggested, rubbing circles into her back.
“You've always been so good to me.” Amelia murmured, her voice soft and filled with emotion.
“I do it because I love you.” Lando replied, his own voice equally tender. Amelia looked up at him, her eyes searching his eyes for reassurance.
“Say it again.” She whispered.
“I love you, Amelia Marie Rossi.” Lando said, his voice unwavering as he spoke the words that meant everything to him. A smile tugged at the corners of Amelia's lips, her heart swelling with affection.
“I love you, Lando Norris.” She declared, her voice filled with conviction.
“Yeah, I know.” Lando replied, a playful grin spreading across his face as he leaned in to kiss her gently on the forehead.
Their laughter mingled with the crackling of the fire as Amelia leaned in to kiss Lando again. The touch of their lips ignited a warmth that spread through them both, dissolving any lingering tension or uncertainty. In that moment, all that mattered was the love they shared.
“And, I will love you for the rest of my life if you'd let me.” Lando added, his signature grin not wavering.
“You say all the right things.” Amelia giggled as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him again.
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