#meryl is concerned but not concerned enough to stop them

[atlas-dr0wned]

vash trying to fit 3 donuts in his mouth, meryl looking concerned (she’s holding the rest of the donuts), milly cheering him on and wolfwood trying 4 just to one up vash

[pancake-breakfast]

I think chapter 2 of TriMax Volume 6 might just be my favorite thus far. Everything in it hinges on this one iconic scene.

This isn't the first time Wolfwood has pointed a gun at Vash's head. Maybe it won't even be the last. But it holds a bit more weight here because just a few pages ago, we saw a flashback where Wolfwood pointed his gun at someone else's head.

His hand shakes as he aims at Knives. His breath is heavy, and the memory of the Fifth Moon incident is fresh in his mind. He knows if he can just pull the trigger, he can end it here. This being of destruction will be gone, and maybe this time his fancy scientists won't be able to bring him back.

But then Knives does Plant things, and under the weight of it Wolfwood finds he just can't follow through. He fears his own death too much, and Knives will surely kill him.

When he points his gun at Vash, it's different. His hand is steady, his breath calm. The memory of everything that happened at the Dragon's Nest is fresh in his mind; just this morning he warned Meryl that she and Milly should remember that, despite his ideals, Vash is still a loose cannon that they'd do well to avoid. He thinks to himself that if he can just pull the trigger, if he can just take out the less intimidating of the brothers, then one of these monstrous twins and half of the problem will be gone.

This time, there's no crushing sensation of oppression. There's no air of fear and malice. There are no threats or memories of twisted promises. There's only a look, wary and concerned...

...but even by the time this happens, Wolfwood has already lowered his gun. He's decided not to pull the trigger, not because of an immediate threat on his life, but because... well, it's Vash.

Wolfwood surely knows that if he pulls that trigger, he catastrophically fails his mission, and whatever consequences might await him on the far side of such a failure aren't going to be anywhere near pleasant. But it doesn't seem like it's fear of Knives that makes him lower his gun. At the very, very least, Wolfwood knows no one stands a better chance at taking down Knives, but he also knows Vash. He's seen Vash's fake smiles and knows his real ones. He understands Vash's ideals despite very much not wanting to and not knowing how he could possibly accept them for himself. He's fought side by side with Vash, and been standing at his back since day 1.

And before this night is out, only a few minutes after pulling a gun on Vash, Wolfwood's right back there again, moving in tandem with Vash, being a human shield so they can accomplish Vash's goals together.

It's only when the fight comes to a close that Wolfwood realizes that's what he's been doing. He didn't put any thought into falling in step behind Vash, didn't dwell on the fact that Vash trusted and moved with him during the fight. It's only afterwards, when they stop to catch their breath, that he realizes Vash hasn't looked his way through the whole battle. That Vash didn't need to look his way through the whole battle.

Not only did Vash trust Wolfwood at his back, but he knows Wolfwood well enough to move intuitively around him, not hesitating and always understanding what Wolfwood's about to do. And at that moment, Wolfwood realizes two things:

First, that there's no way Vash didn't notice when Wolfwood pointed a gun at him. If Knives could figure it out while half dead and barely knowing Wolfwood, then Vash, who's awake, alert, and has spent plenty of time with Wolfwood, can surely figure it out.

And second, that when he's fighting back to back with Vash, nothing else really matters. All his (quite legitimate) fears about what Vash is and how dangerous he can be, about Knives, about finishing his job, about what he himself has become... they all melt away. He's where he needs to be, where he should be, and that's all there is to it.

[peachyloveswriting]

What would Vash, Wolfwood, and Knives do about sick reader? Like reader knew they had been getting sick for a few days but saying stuff like "I sneezed from the dusty sand" or "I choked on my spit. I wasn't coughing. " they keep coming up with stuff to say till they have a fever and collapse.

YES. MORE FOR KNIVES. I actually really enjoy writing for knives. He's such a complicated character to get right because he hates humans and more often than not the reader is portrayed as human. His feelings are so contradictory but I love it.

You're Only Human (After all)

SUMMARY: Vash, Wolfwood, and Naï, find out that you've been hiding a sickness from them. The outcome feels like a nightmare come true.

NOTES: Vash and knives parts are very long. There's a shit ton of angst but there's also hurt/comfort. I'd say it took me 16 hrs total from start to finish and that's partially because a huge part of Kives original part got deleted and yeah... I couldn't remember some of it. Enjoy tho lol.

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Vash

Setting up camp for the night was no easy task, getting up to gather what everyone needs to sleep comfortably while helping Meryl set up her own tent. Yours always comes last and before you can even finish Roberto is asking you to help him cook. You never stop working and seize every opportunity to stay on your feet, the restlessness that comes with stagnancy kills you. Through constantly throwing yourself into work is painful and tiring, it's been even more so than usual.

"Hey kid. Come and help with this roast."

You ignore Roberto's request, too tired to even think straight much less give a coherent thought, only curling further into the backseat of the truck. In the back of your throat has settled an itch, one that's not quite there but prominent enough to make you force down a cough. It bubbles up suddenly, making you gasp for air in-between coughs. Your throat burns in pain and tenses as it stops.

Soft foot steps pad up to the open door. Meryl peeks in at you with worry before she fixes herself right. "Uh... Sorry if I'm bothering you but could you help me with my tent again?" She clasps her hands together, eagerly waiting for your answer.

Nick watches from the outside of his own tent, gazing at your still form while his hands blindly settle the cross firmly into the sand. He doesn't decide to speak until Meryl extends a hand to tap you. "I'll do it." He offers.

Meryl turns to look at him with a disgruntled smile. "Thanks?" He scoffs. "Yup. Don't mention it. And close the door while you're at it."

Meryl looks at your limp form, not wanting to close any limbs in the door she checks just to be sure before she carefully closes the door. Just before walking away she takes one last peek inside to see if she disturbed you but you haven't moved an inch. Taking a deep breath she turns to stand beside Nick while he puts her tent together.

The night carried on and with it came Vash. To everyone else the night went on as usual but to Vash, a part of him was missing. When he looked for your tent he was sad to find that it hadn't been set up at all. This only worried the blonde further. His stomach would churn with unease the further he looked around. There was no sign on you anywhere. Just as he was about to peek around the truck, a soft finger tapped his shoulder. He turned to find Meryl gazing up at him.

"If you're looking for them..." She points to the truck. "They've been there all evening."

Hia gaze follows her pointed finger to the backseat of the truck. Offering her thanks, he rushes over to the truck and pulls open the door. You lay curled up on the farthest side away from him, your face hidden and tucked away in your arms. Face softening, Vash climbs into the empty space by your feel and closes the door behind him, ensuring privacy.

"Mayfly?" He leans over curiously, his hand slipping under your chin to lift your face into view. You grimace, your head swimming in agony and dizziness. "Are you okay?" His cries crease in concern.

Lazily, you lift a hand to swat him away. Setting your head back on your arms he lifts the back of his hand to your forehead. "You feel hot. Maybe you should get out of the car. Get some fresh air." His hand brushes over your head in a soothing manner.

"I'm fine." He smiles at your half-hearted grumble.

"If you say so..." Swiftly grabbing your shoulder, Vash scoops you up into his arms with ease and scoots to press his back to the door. He spreads his legs and leans back just enough for you to lay comfortably on his chest. You're just lethargic enough that you flop against him, no resistance whatsoever.

He stayed with you until the morning, upset when he kept waking up to you practicing choking in your sleep. Every time he raises a hand to your forehead it burns his skin. You were certainly running a fever of some kind or at the very least sick, he's never seen you so lethargic before. You've always stayed on your feet, working yourself to the brink, till' your legs won't carry you anymore. This might just be one of those spells but you never left the truck. Even when he got out to help everyone pack up you didn't move.

When everyone gathered inside the truck, you didn't move, allowing yourself to get shoved around to make room for Wolfwood and Vash. As Vash climbed in, he scowled at the priest who shoved you about as if you were some object he could just discard. Gently scooping you far enough to slide in. he laid you back down in his lap and held you close, allowing you to get some rather comfortable rest. Hours later, you woke up in a daze. The heat consuming you from head to toe is unbearable, breathing comes harshly.

You can see legs moving through the sand below you as you wake up but very quickly realize they're not yours. You begin to feel hands under each of your knees and your body pressed against another. Below you, Vash's coat flaps into view, the edges of it tugging about with each step.

You groan, dizzy from the heat and disoriented. Your head is reeling about, begging to go back to sleep and crying at the same time. Every part of you aches and your throat feels like it's been grated like fine cheese.

"You're awake!" Vash turns his head to look at you nuzzled into his shoulder. Swallowing harshly, you lift your head to glance at him. "Where are we?"

You cringe at the sound of your own voice, sounding like a decrepit frog that smokes cigarettes. It feels like you haven't drank in forever and your stomach rumbles angrily. Suddenly Vash jumps to keep you up on his back, you whine at the sudden jolt and dig your hands into the chest of his shirt. He grimaces at your painful response.

"You okay?" Forcing yourself to right yourself, you begin to wriggle in his hold. "M' fine. Put me down."

Vash's brows creased with worry. "Are you sure? You've-"

Pushing from his hold you fall into the scorching sands. Hissing in pain, you jump to your feet jostling your brain into a wave of vertigo. Your hand shoots out to find purchase while your vision grows dark. Tingles flood your body as a low dull pain pulses in your head. Two arms scoop you up into security, keeping you from falling back into the hot sands. "Whoa!"

Vash steadies you as you lean against him limply for help. "Slow down. You're not well." His hands move to your shoulders. A long drawn out couch slips from your lips. You shake away from his hole to walk towards the group, they're way ahead of you occasionally glancing back to stop and wait. "I'm fine."

You trudge forward at your own discretion and Vash follows closely behind. "Let me carry you Mayfly." A hand comes to rest at the small of your back. Beneath you, your legs shake horribly, threatening to lose your balance. It's hard just to push forward in the sand without wincing from the sore ache that settles into your bones. "I'll be fine, Vash."

The desert becomes distant, a cold covering your whole body like ice. "I'm..." The sky began to darken, blotting out the light from the suns and the sand beneath you.

"oh!" Slipping forward, Vash stretches an arm over your chest to stop your falling body from collapsing in the sand. The over exertion is obvious and your body makes it hard to deny. Vash can see it clearly, the bleary look in your eyes as he scoops your bridal style in his arms. Gazing down at you with an unreadable expression, he shakes his head. "How long has this been going on?"

You roll your head into his chest, shielding your eyes from the suns. Breathing in to speak you choke out a cough, you can hardly catch a breath in-between. When you finish, your head falls back softly. "A few weeks ago." You mumble weakly.

A frown settles upon his lips as he looks ahead at the horizon, the glare on his shades stops you from seeing his eyes. Those are always a dead give away for how he's feeling. Those shades work wonders for him.

Taking a shaky breath, you relax in Vash's arms. "Don't worry. I'll take you to a doctor. You should rest until then."

You shake your head. "Won't you get tired of carrying me?"

He looks back down at you smiling softly. The smile reaches up to his eyes, softening his gaze and wrinkling the corners of his eyes. "I will. It's okay, I'm supposed to take care of you Mayfly. Just rest." His voice is so soft he's almost whispering. It makes a heat swirl in your chest as you close your eyes.

"I'm sorry Vash."

He chuckles. "It's alright my love."

Wolfwood

Sweat beads along your forehead as you follow the giant wandering cross in front of you. Your wavering pace slows you down even more the longer you push forward. It's so far away now. When was the last time you even had water? God, you can't remember. Trudging through the sands makes the ache in your already sore leg grow worse, you can barely lift your feet from the ground.

Breathing is a labor, it burns your lungs with each breath you take, the longer you go without calling for Nick's help the more dire this starts to become. The dull ache in your head is pounding with the intensity of the suns and your body grows weaker. You regret lying to Nick before he ran out of gas, you knew them you should have said something but the situation was bad enough. You thought saying something then would only cause more worry to settle in Nick's mind and you didn't want to burden him.

Suddenly, searing hot pain blossoms on your exposed skin and sand hugs your body as it lands. Your mind is foggy and blank, you watch Nick grow smaller in the distance not even bothering to look back at you. You rasp his name but your throat doesn't allow you to call any louder than a simple talking tone. After traveling with Nick everywhere, you never thought it would end like this, laying in the sand pathetically sick because of your irrational fear and Inability to ask for help.

Suddenly, in the distance. The space between you and Nick closes in. He runs towards you, tossing the cross all about on his back. Distantly you can hear him call your name for the first time ever, he's only ever called you by silly nicknames. You don't give much care to mutter a response and sink into the sand.

Panic squeezes in Nick's chest and he drops his cross beside him to tend to you. Grabbing your shoulders he turns you over and sits you up in his lap. "C'mon. Don't fall asleep." He begs.

You cough up a laugh. The concern in his face grows even more severe with your seeming obliviousness to the situation. "I'm fine..." You want to shrug him off so bad but even moving feels like hell.

Heart pounding in his chest, Nick swallows harshly "You haven't been fine since we got stranded, have you?" The back of his hand feels freezing as he presses it to your forehead. You grimace with discomfort and whine. "I'm not stupid." Carefully, he stands with you in his arms.

As he turns to walk away you spot his cross on the ground. "Your cross..." Nick acknowledges it with a hum. His face is stern, pointedly staring straight again with his lips pressed into a thin line. "I'll get it back later. You need medical attention first."

You smile. "So you're saying you care?"

His grip on you begins to tighten. *Of course I do! Don't fucking scare me like that again." He growls.

"Sure." Sleep tugs your eyes closed, pulling at your weight the less conscious you become. Nick glares down at you, squeezing you tighter against him. He feels your body grow limp in his arms, heart dropping to his stomach.

"What did I say? Don't fall asleep." You're jostled awake with a groan. "Just let me sleep. Please."

"And if you don't wake up again?" He's become eerily nonchalant. "What then?" The edge in his voice shakes with worry, tracing the thoughts of what might unfold after your death. His chest aches at the thought of losing you and he won't say it but he's scared of losing you. "It'll kill me..."

Nick will never admit it but you do more for him then he lets on. Your company alone could last him a lifetime, your smile, it could make him happy forever. Everything about you fixes everything bad about him and he's not ready to give that up. Especially not over some silly illness. Hearing his words and understanding what he means, you coo quietly and rest your hand over his heart. Your touch quells his fraying nerves.

"I drag you down Nico." Your heart weighs heavy in your chest. "It might be better if you leave me behind."

Stomach clenching wearily, Nick grunts. "No." Venoms laces his tongue. "You idiot. I love you too much to do that." You gaze at him in surprise. "Don't look at me like that. I said what I said. You should just be quiet and conserve your energy."

Hesitant, you gaze at him for a few moments longer before letting your head rest carefully against his chest. "I'll get you help. Just hang in there."

Millions Knives

Sitting beside Naï, he plays the piano. Quietly, you watch his fingers dance over the keys as they belt out a dramatic yet familiar melody. It strikes the soul as misunderstood, you know it well. Many times has Naï played this song in your presence. You've heard everything he plays, as his words command you stay by his side under his watchful eye. Many of his followers take this as a sign of mistrust, a show that the human race will never take his attention. Naï has said to you before: "Hear me and believe my word. My trust in you is not misguided, I only wish to protect you from those who wish to harm you."

Despite hating humans, Naï knows his fair share about the ways they operate. He understands the delicacy of your body and handles it with immense measure and meticulous care. He keeps you near to prevent his followers from making a move to take your life. For him, he even strives to understand more about you, to protect you. His care for you and your well-being runs deep, although Naï doesn't quite understand why it's you he's so careful about, he understands that you make him feel something.

Naï, even in his own strange way, shows that he cares for you. He appreciates the company you keep him and he's not foreign with thanking you. Just the same your appreciation runs deep, he offers you friendship, safety, food, and a place to lay your head at night. Above all else, his friendship and company you find the most rewarding, to know so much about him is to see under his facade. Knowing that underneath all of those sharp blades, a gentle, and caring man resides. Only sparing himself to his closet confidants.

Beautifully, the keys fade into an epilogue, an ending to the story it once opened with. You find that as you watch with a smile your lungs begin to burn. A cough tries to bubble its way past your lips, it takes your breath away and chokes you on the way out. Turning away to cover your mouth, you find it hard to catch your breath and tears blur your vision. The melody that had once carried through the room now falls silent in the stead of your sputtering.

Worry tingles in Naï's chest as you gasp for air beside him, he's unsure of what to do or what this is. His knowledge might be expansive but he still has so much to learn, about sickness, potential threats, the many causes of death. His lack of awareness makes his heart quell with concern and his mind reel is fear.

"Are you alright?" His voice carries through the harmonious room. Tentatively his hand hovers over your back.

You wipe the tears from your eyes to see his angelic face clearly. "It's okay Naï, just choked on my spit."

Cautiously, he looks you over with care checking for abnormalities along your external appearance. Your eyes are dark and lightly sunken, despite noticing this fast Naï goes along with your word and nods in earnest. You feel scrutinized under his gaze, like he's judging every part of you without ever saying a word.

"Choked?" He queries. "Is this choking, dangerous?" His brows crease with worry.

"Well..." Recalling gasping for air, the onslaught of coughing as it keeps you from breathing in deep enough to catch your breath makes you choose your next words with ease. "Yes. It can be, depending on the circumstances. But it can also be prevented"

Intensely focused, Naï nods. "How can this be prevented?" His absolute attention is always divulged onto you anytime you talk, it's endearing, the way he listens to every detail. Nothing you've said has ever been forgotten by him, he remembers everything, making it a point to bring it up when useful later on. It tells you that he cares about what you have to say, knowing that makes your heart soar.

"Drinking a glass of water, or anything of likeness, then there's the heimlich. You should ask Con'rad about that if you want to understand it." Although many of the things that Naï knows about humans have been acquired through you, there are many things you can't find the energy to explain. Best someone else with more knowledge explains it to avoid any confusion.

"I'll go visit him then." Naï stands. "Come. I'll escort you to the room." Gently, you hold his outstretched hand, letting it guide you to your feet. He holds it gingerly as he pulls you alongside him. His hand is soft and warm, inhumanely so, you find comfort in his warmth.

The more time chugs along the more you begin to realize you've fallen I'll, coughing spells out of nowhere, extreme fatigue, loss of appetite. The coughing grows worse with intensity, burning your sore throat, your body wastes energy faster, and waking up in the morning becomes a difficult task. For longer times you would lay in bed seeking the comfort of your companion, Naï, despite hiding your growing illness from him. He's buying into what you told him, though it won't last for very long. If he's really that worried he'll seek the knowledge of Con'rad once again.

He knows your habits even down to the smallest details, including your sleep schedule. Though sleep is the only time he lets you spend alone, that's only in his room, the only ones allowed inside are you and him. As far as his knowledge goes, since you last went in about a day ago, no one has bothered to enter. Not even Naï himself would go to see you. He figured you only needed a little alone time before you might come out again to grace him with your company. The time rolled around for you to come out but the door never opened, Naï waited in anticipation, trying to stace off the minutes to spare you time.

The paranoia got to him before you could.

The whole time you've been inside he's only let the door out of his sight once, for only a short amount of time. Very few people would dare enter knowing what punishment would await them if he ever found out but just the thought of someone going in and hurting you... It makes his blood boil. He paces just outside with worry and frustration beginning to build just beneath the surface. He has to know you're okay, he has to hear you speak... No. No, he needs something more... He has to see you physically. Otherwise, he might just lose his mind wondering what awaits him inside.

Eager to finally see your face again, to hear your voice and feel your touch, he pushes the door open. Eyes scouring the darkness for your form he finally spots you laying still beneath the covers of his bed, you make no sound as the door closes and you stay still even as he says your name. In his chest, his heart begins to pound wildly, sending the rest of his body into a frenzy of feelings.

He rushes to the bedside, a singular blade extending to turn the lights on. The darkness cowers away at the flick of a switch and your form is revealed amongst his mattress. Almost stripped bare of your clothes you lay unmoving, almost as if the life from inside you has been drained. Chest straining, Naï climbs over top of your body lowering his head to your chest, your skin feels cold against his ear as he listens for a heartbeat.

Just underneath your delicate skin beats the rhythm of your life, it beats on even as you lay utterly still. Naï can feel his shoulders relax, the sound of your heart telling him that you're indeed still alive, but as he pulls away to further examine you he knows something's not quite right. it makes his stomach churn with unease. Your skin tone seems off, like something's not quite the same as it was before.

As softly as he can, Naï shakes your body. After the first movement he expects you to come to life with a groan but you don't move. If your heart is still beating, why won't you wake up?

"My flower, wake up. You've slept long enough. I need your company by my side." He shakes you harder this time. "Petal, wake up. I demand it." He tries to sound like he normally does when addressing everyone else but he can't seem to find it in himself to truly yell at you, to demand something of you. Especially not when you're stripped of your freedom at this moment.

Naï's throat tightens, his brows creasing with worry and fear. He's so confused, you usually wake up when he calls for you but now he's got nothing. It scares him, knowing just how fragile you really are, it aside now that he rushes you to Con'rad.

Before he parts to the lab, he envelopes your exposed body in his cloak and carries you in his arms. Nothing like this takes more than the blink of an eye, Con'rad barely even has time to process his master's sudden appearance. Everything is thrust at him at once, the fear and confusion that riddles Naï's face when he presents you to Con'rad, how he begs for him to find out what's wrong, to fix you.

Con'rad frowns at your unconscious body as he takes you from his master's arms. "Careful! Don't hurt them." Naï warns.

Con'rad can only cast him a glance before he sets you down on a table, he collects his supplies needed to check you over and watches as Naï retracts the cloak that is wrapped so tightly around your body.

To plants, a decade is only supposed to feel like a day. So why did Naï feel like it had already been years when it was only minutes. He stared at you intently, waiting for you to wake up, willing you to do something. But you didn't move at all. Naï was anxious from tip to bottom, so to quell his nerves Con'rad began explaining things to him.

"Like we discussed, humans are susceptible to many things, illness being one of them. Should a person go an extended amount of time without medication or medical attention, it can cause death. This happens to be the case with your friend. You're lucky you found them when you did Knives. I can still run this IV to get the right fluids in check. After, you can take them back to your room, the IV has to stay in until it's empty though." He eyes the bleach blond from the corner of his eyes as he tapes the IV to your arm. "Again. You're lucky. They should recover soon. But they'll need plenty of rest."

Naï steps away from the wall he had leaned on, the blades slither out from behind his back and circle you carefully until they meld into his cloak once more. Content, he carefully picks you from the table with ease, using another metal appendage to grasp the IV bag.

"Thank you." Naï bows his head to Con'rad in thanks. Before he can reply Naï is gone again just as fast as he appeared.

Returning back to the privacy of his room, Naï gently sets you at the edge of the bed where he could rest the IV bag beside you. Leaving you swaddled in his cloak, Naï climbs up the bed behind you. For a moment he's hesitant to touch you, like it's the wrong thing to do but he pushes forward. Softly laying an arm over your waist, he pulls you flush against him, his face tucked into the back of your neck. He would lay here until you woke, until then, Naï would relish in the feeling of your body against his and find comfort in your presence by his side.

He might lecture you when you wake up, or inspect you thoroughly for any other sickness, but he also might enjoy your waking company for a moment before he does anything else.

[dr4k3n0]

'Bond'

A/n: To clear up confusion because I've been told this is really close to a Knives version of this, here is the link to that please check out that story because it's great! You can find it here.

Synopsis: A small story of how your favorite outlaw unknowingly "bonded" to you.

Tw: Blood

Word Count: 4.1k

Blood trickled down your arm as it lay limp beside you as you held your shoulder with a staggered stance. You let out a jagged breath as the large creature loomed over your small figure. Holding your gun tightly in your hand, you used the last bit of strength left in you, to raise it, sending a bullet shooting at the attacker. Not being fast enough to dodge it, the bullet hit the attacker's arm and it let out an angry shout in pain. He gripped his gun as he aimed to shoot you in the head. You quickly dodged and rolled passed the bullet, making sure to land on your good shoulder. Staggering to get back up, you ran off to find the others while your attacker followed suit behind you. 

You eventually caught a glimpse of Vash's familiar red coat as you made your way toward him and the others following behind him. 

"Vash!" You yelled to get his attention as the attacker grew closer to you.

The blonde turned his head in your direction after hearing your call. His ears were soon greeted by the sound of a gunshot echoing out through the town and soon followed by a pained scream from you. Eyes widening in shock, he pulled out his gun quickly, and precisely hit his target, as he shot your attacker's gun from their hand. Wolfwood went to deal with the attacker, letting the cloth that covered "The Punisher" fly off into the distance as he made his way to the attacker. 

As Vash made his way to you, he quickly took his jacket off and wrapped it around your limp, shaking figure. He tore a piece of his black turtle neck shirt, as he wrapped it tightly around the bullet wound in your leg. He soon tore another piece off, and he pressed it firmly against the other bullet wound you had in your shoulder. You hissed in pain as he put pressure against your wounds, earning a quiet and fast apology from him. 

He gently picked you up, before saying, "Meryl get Wolfwood, we need to get them to a doctor." As he rushed off towards the car with you in his arms. 

She nodded at him before calling Wolfwood who had knocked out your attacker, and you all drove off in search of a new town. 

Your head ached and your thoughts and vision were blurry. Pain shot throughout your body as you heard the muffled, panicked arguing of the others. Your shoulder and leg ached terribly bad as it shot shooting pain to your head and then down the rest of your body. 

"What should we do?! There's no doctor nearby, they probably left during the gunfight!" Meryl yelled.

"Well, what should we do?" Wolfwood cut in as he held a cloth to where the bullet had hit your shoulder. 

The others talked about what to do to help you while Vash stayed silent as he urged you to keep your eyes open. He felt his heart sink to his stomach seeing you in this condition. "Hey.. Stay awake for me..!" He said with worry laced in his tone. 

You gripped his hand that you didn't even know you had grabbed, in pain. You sucked in a breath as tears left your eyes. "It hurts so much.." You said in between breaths.

He looked down at you concerned before looking up to see another town in a distance. "There! Go that way!" Vash shouted suddenly. 

Meryl jerked the car in the direction of the town, as it got harder and harder to keep your eyes open. 

"I.. want to sleep.." You said slowly and barely audibly. 

"No, no, no, no! Hold on we're almost there!" Vash said quickly as he squeezed your hand tightly. 

The car soon came to an abrupt stop as you were soon scooped up by Vash again and brought to a different environment. 

"I need a doctor fast! They was shot and lost a lot of blood!" Vash yelled, startling all the other patients there. 

A lady walked out from behind the counter quickly, "Come with me!" She said to Vash before checking on you. "Stay awake for me," She said to you as your eyes got heavier and heavier. 

Vash brought you to the designated room and was soon ushered out by the other doctors. He stood anxiously behind the door, waiting for them to come out. He waited for what seemed like hours as the others stood close behind him, also worried. He bit his lip anxiously before being startled by the door opening abruptly, and a doctor walking out. 

"Ma'am is she okay?!" Vash asked, not sure if he wanted to hear her answer. His heart raced in anticipation. 

"They somehow made it. Coming in they didn't look so good, we didn't think they would make it, but they did. It's a miracle if you ask me." The nurse said smiling at the others. 

Vash smiled ear to ear hearing the news, "Can we go in and see them?" Vash asked, wanting to see you as soon as possible. 

The nurse smiled at them before nodding, "They're asleep right now, but you can go in but probably only one at a time though," The nurse said. 

Vash smiled and thanked her before asking the others if they wanted to go in. They all knew he desperately wanted to see you and decided to go and get a hotel set up for you all. He smiled at them as he bid them farewell before entering your room quietly. 

His heart raced as he approached you and he sat down in a nearby chair beside your bed. He grabbed your hand delicately, as he pressed his forehead against yours. Soon he was greeted with calmness and the picture of the wind blowing through the trees and flowers. Worried, he pulled back as he looked at his hand that had the small pattern of the marks that appear on him. Yours had the same marks. He gazed at your hands confused as he soon felt your hand squeeze his, weakly. His eyes shot open as he looked in your direction as you slowly opened your eyes.

Letting out a groan of pain, you look around the room, seeing Vash sitting closely beside you with his eyes wide. 

"What?" You asked in a raspy voice.

He shook his head before smiling at you, "Nothin," He laughs as he lets go of your hand.

You look at him confused by his actions before your cheeks begin to grow warm. 'Why does he have to smile like that..' you thought.

~

You were soon emitted from the hospitable and Vash was a little protective of you. He was always around you and stayed near you when you went places, which was odd. Although it made you feel happy to think that he might care about you that much. Your heart raced whenever he checked up on you while you were walking, or when he would help you regain the strength in your arm, even when he helped you change your bandages. His actions always flustered you, but they made you happy. 

After a while, you were able to regain your strength in your arm and leg, but Vash's actions never stopped. He would still watch over you and offered to carry things for you, making the excuse that he was just trying to be nice. You never questioned it though. Currently, you were walking through a small town, looking for a place to stay the night. 

"Hey, Y/n, want me to carry your things?" Vash asked as you both trailed behind the group. 

You looked into his radiant eyes, before giving him a small smile, "I'm alright for now, thank you though!" You said.

He nodded at you as you both continued to walk, your hands occasionally brushing the others. Eventually, you had all found a hotel and were going to retreat to each of your own rooms for the night. Getting ready for bed, you changed into some spare clothes you had, along with brushing your teeth and hair quickly. Soon, you were finally able to let out a content sigh as you flopped onto the mattress, the springs creaked with your impact. You layed there happily not caring that the bed wasn't that comfortable. It was better than the ground at least. 

Curling up to sleep, you closed your eyes to try to sleep, but sleep never came, much to your dismay. You had been trying to sleep for a while but thoughts flooded your mind. It was currently 2:48 am, and your mind was racing. Annoyed, you eventually sat up and got out of bed before exiting your room quietly. You didn't know where you were going in particular. Walking through the heavy hotel doors, you shivered as the cold hit your skin. You wished you had brought a blanket with you, but also didn't feel like going back to your room. 

You walked quietly down the street of the town the sound of your footsteps sounding much louder than in the daytime. Feet treading through the sandy ground, you didn't have anywhere in particular in mind as to where you were going. You just followed the streets as they led you through the town. Eyeing the different signs and advertisements around each store, you were beginning to reach the edge of the town. Feeling a little disappointed that your walk was over, you began to turn around to walk back towards the hotel. It was all the same as it was when you first stepped out, peaceful. The only noises that filled the town were the sound of the breeze blowing through the buildings, and the noise of chirping, from the nearby insects. 

As you neared the hotel, you let out a shakey sigh as you pulled open the door to the hotel, and proceeded in, only to see Vash much to your surprise. He was sitting at a small table with a glass of water in his hand as he seemed to be dozing off. 'Why was he down here at this hour?' was all that clouded your mind. Taking quiet steps towards his figure, you looked over him quietly. The moonlight illuminated his blonde locks that fell perfectly around his face. Outstretching your hand cautiously, the back of your hand grazed his cheek gently. He stirred in his sleep as you snapped your hand back quickly. Your heart was beating fast, and you slowly outstretched your hand again, this time tapping him gently on his shoulder. His face contorted as he went to swat your hand away. You persisted as this time, you gently shook his shoulder.

His eyes finally fluttered open, tired and confused, he looked around before seeing your form standing above him, and smiling. He stretched before standing up and towering over you like usual. 

"Hey," He rumbled, as his voice was still etched with sleep.

Letting out a small chuckle, you looked up at whispering, "Why are you down here right now?"

He let out an embarrassed laugh as he rested his hand on the nape of his neck, "I came down for a drink but I must have dozed off.." He said quietly. 

You nodded as you eyed him up and down. He wasn't in his normal clothes you saw him in a lot of the time. He wore an extremely baggy white shirt, with baggy sweatpants that sat on his hips perfectly. You gulped as you looked him over before looking away from him after he cleared his throat. 

"We should head up I guess.." You finally said already starting to make your way back up to your room. 

He made a small noise of agreement, as you tried to avoid the areas that creaked on the old stairs. As you finally made it to your room, he stood in the door frame, as you both stood awkwardly in silence. 

He was first to slice through the silence as he began, "I uh.. I might have locked my keys in my room.." The tip of his ears began to turn pink at his embarrassment. 

A small laugh made its way through your throat, as you opened the door wider for him to come in. "You can sleep in here if you want," You said offering a small smile. 

His one of a kind, smile made its way to his lips as he quietly walked in after you. You sat on the bed while he stood there awkwardly. "So how should we work this..?" You mused aloud.

He stayed quiet offering a shrug as you rolled your eyes at his lack of an answer. "Well, You can sleep on the bed with me.. I don't mind," You offered. 

A blush made its way to his face as he nodded weakly. Taking a seat beside where you were sitting, you flop back onto the bed carefully, as you got under some of the worn blankets from the bed. Vash soon mimicked your actions as he carefully slid under the blanket. Both looking at each other for a moment, your faces both ruby red. You watched as he gulped, and moved some hair out of his face that blocked his view of you. 

"Goodnight.." You whispered quietly as you turned around to face the other way. 

He repeated your words before turning around as well. For some reason, you were able to fall asleep instantly. The blankets felt so warm as they were wrapped around your small form, and the bed just seemed 10 times more comfortable than before. Though, you weren't complaining. 

You were soon woken up, by the sound of the town resuming its daily activities. The shouts from people selling goods, the chatter below from the bar. Your eyes fluttered open tiredly as you stretched but your hand came into contact with something. Looking to the side of you through your eyelashes, you see blonde tufts of hair scattered around you and a tight grip on your waist. 'Oh it's just Vash,' your mind eased at the thought as you snuggled into his touch more. But then it dawned on you. It was Vash! You shot up quickly as a blush dusted your face as the tip of your ears reddened. He made a small groan after you left before peeking his eyes open to see your hands covering your face. 

Sitting up, Vash let out a yawn before saying, "Good morning," 

You replied with a small pathetic squeak of a "good morning" too embarrassed to look at him. He quirked a brow at you as he looked at your hands as they covered your face. Why did they have marks on them..? They had the same marks as his. Confused he grabbed your hand as you let out a confused squeak as he studied your hand which happened to be much smaller than his. As your hand made contact with his, the smarks began to glow and the marks also began to form on his hand. 

You eyed what he was doing confused at the marks. "What are these marks?" You asked confused as they pulsed a glow as your hands were in contact with each other. 

"Vash? Arent these the marks you get? What's going on?" You asked concerned.

He stayed quiet as he watched your hands as the marks began to spread up your arm. 

"Vash! What's happening!?" You said as you ripped your hand away from his. The marks began to slowly disappear from your skin along with his. 

He watched in shock, just as confused as you. "We should get this checked out.." Vash uttered. 

You looked at him confused before nodding at him. His eyes lingered on your hand a little longer before looking up at you. "I'm sorry.." He whispered.

Looking towards him you smiled before grabbing his hand again, "It's fine, I'm sorry I freaked out like that. I think the marks look cool.." You said trying to make him feel better.

He smiled at you as he slid off the bed and stood. "Let's get changed and I think we should go to a good friend of mine. She can probably help us," He grinned. 

"I'll go see if I can get a master key to my room, meet me downstairs in about 30 ish minutes." He said as he began to walk out of your room. 

You nodded as he shut your door gently leaving you with your thoughts. You quickly showered before slipping on your gear, and putting your belongings into your backpack. You shrugged your backpack on and began to head down to where you were supposed to meet. Sure enough, you saw Vash's tuft of blonde hair with his red coat making small talk with Wolfwood. You greeted them both with a small smile before you and Vash began to head out. The others decided to stay behind to rest, so it was just you and Vash for right now. You both rented some strange creatures to ride on through the desert. 

"We should hopefully make it there by nightfall if things go smoothly," Vash finally said. You nodded at him as you rode beside him.

'Maybe this won't be too bad..' you thought. Riding through the golden desert, you both finally made it to the ruined SEED ship. Your eyes studied the old ship with amazement. As you neared the entrance, you got off of your (creatures?)  and then followed Vash to the entrance. He led you through the large doorway as you looked around in wonder. He took you into a few rooms trying to find the people you were looking for, only to find them in one particular room. It was a geo (pod?). It was beautiful, flowers covered the green grass like a blanket, and the trees stood tall and lush.

"Laida! Brad! Good to see you guys!" Vash chimed as he made his way toward them.

You watched as he made his way toward them and slowly followed behind him. You stood beside Vash quietly, as he talked with the two unknown people.

"Laida, I need your help, something happened between me and my friend here, and we don't understand what's happening," Vash said as he gestured towards you.

Laida looked towards you seeing your small form offer her a small wave.

"Hello.." You uttered out with a small smile.

She smiled and held her hand out for you to shake. You took her gentle hand in yours as she shook it. "Hi there! I'm Laida, what's your name?"

"I'm Y/n!" You said offering her a shy smile.

"Well, nice to meet you Y/n! Oh, and I almost forgot this is Brad, but don't let him scare you, he's really a sweetheart deep down." She said casting him a smirk.

Brad huffed and rolled his eyes at her.

"Well, what can we help you with Vash?" Laida finally began.

"Ah, well.. we were wondering if you could explain this..?" Vash said as he gently grabbed your hand and the marks began to form again.

Laida studied your hands before smiling coyly at Vash, "Come with me you two," She said as she began to walk inside.

You both followed behind her, and Brad followed behind you both. Laida soon came to a stop at one of the doors before entering. Following her, she grabbed a large book and she flipped through the old pages. You both stood there in anticipation waiting for the answer. She made small hums every now and then and then began to smile as she looked up at you both closing the book. 

"Vash, did you happen to make a bond with Y/n here?" Laida asked. 

Vash looked at her confused, "A bond? I don't know?" the blonde replied. 

Laida nodded before saying, "Well then, Vash can you place your forehead on theirs? That is if you are okay with that Y/n" She gestured toward you.

You nodded as she smiled. "Fantastic! Now Vash, place your forehead on theirs and I need both of you to close your eyes, and clear your minds." She instructed. 

You both nodded, as Vash gently pressed his forehead to yours, giving you a small smile before closing his eyes, and you yours. Clearing your mind, your body began to feel calm, you were soon brought to completely still water that you were standing on top of. Not a single ripple or wave, just tranquility. Looking around in the large pool of water you stood on, you were soon brought to a field of flowers, seeing Vash's red coat in the distance. 

Being brought back to reality by Vash pulling away, your eyes fluttered open as Vash made eye contact with you before looking at Laida. You looked at his face as the marks had appeared on his, and his eyes widened seeing yours, probably meaning you had them too. 

Laida smiled at you both before chirping, "You both have a bond!"

Vash and you looked at her confused and she cleared her throat before beginning again. 

"What I have found, is that PLANT's like Vash, in simpler terms, would form a bond with someone they considered a "mate" to breed with," Laida paused, "So in a way, Vash must have formed a bond with you, and since you are human, the process of this bond is acting odd since you are both different species." She continued.

"That doesn't explain the marks though.." Vash said quietly. 

"Well it does in a way, if I am correct, this bond is somewhat, making Y/n here, into a plant, so they will most likely be half human half plant after this, I do not know the side effects, but I don't think it will harm you in any way," Laida confirmed. 

You stood shocked, and your hand somehow made its way to Vash's. Your face was stained red with blush and your heart beat fast. 

"Why don't you both stay here the night?" Laida said trying to ease the tension. 

Vash nodded at her as a blush coated his face as well. She began to lead you both to a room you could both stay in and gently shut the door behind her. You both stood near each other trying to form words about the information you had just learned. 

You finally began to say something, "So uhm.. were bonded now..?" You said looking at Vash hesitantly. 

He looks at you through his lashes, "I'm sorry if you didn't want to be bonded to me.. I didn't even know this could happen until now.."  Vash said placing his metallic hand on the nape of his neck awkwardly.

You grabbed his flesh hand gently before saying, "I don't mind being bonded to you Vash.." Looking away from him.

His eyes widen as he lets a small shy chuckle leave his lips, "I don't mind either." He said offering you a smile. 

Looking up at him, you smile at him feeling him squeeze your hand gently. "So uh, should we restart this and I guess confess..?" Vash said as his cheeks went red. 

You nodded at him as he sucked in a breath. "Well, Y/n I really like you, you're fun to be around, you're kind, and you stay around me even though it's extremely dangerous, I love everything about you.." Vash confessed and his face almost rivaled his jacket. 

You smiled at him as your face got warm and your heart was about to explode, "I really like you as well Vash, you're so loving and caring to others, and your personality is golden, I love everything about you no matter what, and I'm glad that were bonded together.." You admitted. 

A smile formed on both of your faces as you looked at each other lovingly. Vash gently pressed his forehead to yours as you both looked at each other with half-lidded eyes. Your body felt a wave of calmness flush through your system, as you both stayed in that position. You watched as his gaze made its way to your lips before coming back up to look at you for permission. You smiled at him before pressing your lips against his. He tensed at the impact but melted into it quickly feeling the love and affection poured into your kiss. You both soon pulled away gasping for air and hugged each other happily. 

"Being bonded to you won't be so bad," you said with a small chuckle as you pulled away and looked up at him. He smiled again at you, before pressing his lips to yours again. 

"I guess your right, Y/n.." 

.

.

.

.

The End!

Okay, okay, okay, I am so sorry I haven't posted in so long.  ;-;    I haven't been feeling like writing, but I will hopefully be back now. My posting is all over the place and I apologize. I made sure to make this one a little longer than normal, but while writing this, my brain went kasplat. So this probably made no sense. But yea! Thank you for reading! 

[nanomooselet]

Little but Fierce VI

She winds up… there's the pitch…

Poor Nick. It never stops being funny. I'd feel sorrier that this happened to him but he's such a bastard in his introductory episode. It's like karma in advance.

Heheh. Kar-ma.

Meryl and Wolfwood behave very much like siblings to each other, while Vash and Roberto treat them like their awful terrible kids. Roberto does actually try reach out to Vash as a mentor once or twice, but of course Vash is fuck-off old and doesn't need that kind of assistance, so he's gently deflected. Roberto is old and wise enough to keep his distance. Nick, for his part, enjoys pissing Roberto off, and Roberto is for his part duly pissed off.

Still, Vash is the reason they're all even there in the first place and Meryl shows him concern. And Vash, in his way, fusses over Nick the way Roberto feels responsible for Meryl. A lot of what Vash does, he's doing pretty much solely for Wolfwood's benefit. I mean, look at this pathetic wet kitten of a man - you can't tell me he doesn't need it.

I've already talked at some length about why exactly Vash is like he is about Wolfwood, but what's he like about Meryl?

Pretty much exactly as fond. He's just quieter about it. To my read, he's confident she and Roberto can look after themselves and each other. That's really endearing to him, but not something he has to do anything about. And Meryl's not suffering the same kind of identity crisis as the Punisher/Wolfwood/Nico. Meryl knows exactly who she is, she's just trying to get everyone else to acknowledge it, and Vash does so from the first - she's never anything but "Meryl" to him, not "newbie" or "little lady". She never has to demand that of him.

Nor is she in directly a victim of his godawful brother, which thankfully means she isn't his responsibility to help - or at least, no more so than any given human. Also, it's Vash. What's that? Someone is invested in his well-being? Golly, that sounds suspiciously like he's being cared for (which of course he doesn't deserve), or (more reasonably) like someone vulnerable to being caught up in Knives's manipulations. Or just someone vulnerable to Knives period. Stampede out!

I though you guys were buddies./I thought you three had something special. 

No way./Yeah, not really.

Too bad for him, he's met his match in Meryl Stryfe.

In direct contrast to every other character around Vash, she's only one there not because she has to be, or because she needs or wants something from him, but because she decided to be. She's one of the only characters with agency, after all.

Real people aren't monsters like that./He's a man, not a monster.

But I won't give up, no matter how unreasonable the assignment!/I won't abandon an assignment just because it's silly.

We can't just leave him hanging here./No way. We can't just leave him here.

And she's also decided he needs help. So come hell or high water, this man is getting helped.

It's her knack for finding the truth without quite knowing the reasoning behind it. In physical terms Vash really, really doesn't need help, and it's the mistake Knives always makes; that because Vash ostensibly doesn't have powers like him, he's in need of a defender. (And because this is Knives, that means it's up to him personally, and he's entitled to Vash and his exclusive love/loyalty/devotion in return. Any protests Vash makes are clearly just human corruption.) But what Vash actually needs is something his brother has never, in any version of the story, demonstrated the capacity to give him. Even sensitive little boy Knives back in Maximum relied on others for reassurance up until the moment he decided he couldn't.

Vash is more inclined to be someone others rely on, to the point of being maladaptive. It's being unable to help that gets to him, especially when he's held responsible.

What he needs is emotional support. Or, well... faith.

Wolfwood gives that to him eventually, but it takes some serious work, and it comes with its own attendant difficulties, like the fact that Nick's not in a position to extend Vash help himself no matter how much he might want to. Nick is, like Rosa and like Vash, a pragmatist. Do what you have to do.

Meryl has never needed that kind of direct demonstration. To her, Vash is a person, and people always need help, and she's not going to be prevented giving it. End of discussion. And despite being mistaken on some particulars, on this point she's more right than even she knows.

The contrast with Wolfwood is incidentally why Meryl hitting Woofwoof with the truck isn't just fucking funny, it's the perfect way for him to be introduced. He can't catch the same bus as Vash by happenstance because this time Vash is his actual target. He can't have Angelina II because personal transport is autonomy he's not permitted to have.

Instead, Meryl's own autonomy and narrative significance had her run the plot right into him, completely ruining whatever plans were laid for his entrance. Notice Roberto tries to steer Meryl away from the collision course they're on, to no avail, and Vash winds up flipped over. Fantastic.

Wolfwood is getting dragged around; Meryl is the one doing the dragging. When she discovers Vash's secrets, she works to accept them and integrate them into her worldview - which means that the moment she learns he's a Plant, she doesn't reject him or become fearful of him. She instantly accepts that must mean the Plants are also people. That gives her a fuller understanding of the conflict, and especially Vash's view of it, than most. It's not a matter of "Whose side are you on?" It's "How do we move forward together?"

Wolfwood's knowledge has all been filtered through the Eye of Michael, so he's more aware of the details, but can't disentangle his true beliefs from the ideology driving them.

Meryl has a better understanding of the abstract. And that, in turn, entitles her to learn what the available methods are, and judge them...

...But it also entitles her to something more precious: Vash's unquestioning trust.

It's certainly much less dramatic than the demonstrations between Vash and Nick, but I have to say: any amount of exposure to Knives and his histrionics would leave me, at least, pretty relieved to have it.

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Part VII

Part VIII

Part IX

[whirlwindimagines]

Can you do a vash x reader where the reader is getting overestimed and vash helps them calm down and comforts them?

Me running to write this after my therapy session, In all seriousness lol I did make this being about overstimulated, kinda then it got a little more. I've taken from my own thoughts and feelings for this one, since when I get overstimulated it can spiral out of control for me. No, I didn't just write this about Vash comforting ME shut up. Also, I wrote this a little differently, I wrote this how I feel a panic attack feels. So it may feel a little wild and disjointed, so stick with me <3

‘They see right through, Can you see right through me? I see right through me’

Vash x Reader

You should be celebrating, everyone else was. Why was this so hard, why were you so difficult, why are you so broken? Your mind can’t help but supply that thought to you, and it makes your chest burn it burns hard enough that you can’t even breathe, have you ever been able to breathe? 

It was all too much, sitting here in some dark forgotten corner while everyone celebrated around you. Having fun, existing without a problem. Your rag-tag group of friends managed to save this no-name town from bandits, and well instead of being chased from a town like usual, they were drinking and celebrating in your honor. It was a good change of pace for everyone, they deserved this. Did you? Did you deserve any of this, your friends?

Glancing up briefly, you spot Meryl trying and failing to rein in Wolfwood, Roberto at the bar drinking happily, and Vash…. actually, you don't see Vash at all. For a brief moment, all your own worries and fears are forgotten, you hoped he wasn't getting into trouble…. he had an incredible knack for it. You don't think you’ve met anyone with such bad luck. 

But then you spot him, shyly accepting praise from those around him, a smile that you can tell isn't fake. And for another moment you find peace in that, if anyone deserves to celebrate its him. You let your senses focus on Vash, just being in his presence was enough for you. Maybe you should get up and join them, you decide to, even going as far as to stand from your seat.

And then that familiar feeling, the doubt, the worry, the fear, it's all too much. It's always too fucking much. The lights, the sounds, the people. It's like you can never be. Never exist in the moment, and every fleeting moment of happiness is ruined by the fact. It's too much and you're too little. You can't be here anymore; without a second thought you turn and leave. 

The fresh air is like a Godsend, keep moving, just go, leave it behind. And you do because isn't that the easiest thing you can do for yourself? Gracefully exit the scene, no big productions, a forgotten side character in somebody else's story, because how could the story ever be yours? Your mind is working a mile a minute, it's doesn’t even make sense. You keep walking until you reach the center of town, a lovely fountain sits in the center, it's painfully quiet, and just what you need. 

Sitting on the edge of the fountain, leaning forward to grip your head. Begging for it to stop, for just a moment. Why can’t you enjoy anything? This is ridiculous and pathetic, five….no ten minutes tops and then you’ll force yourself to go back. You just need to breathe. This was fine, you’ll be fine. 

However, the gentle hand on top of your head startles you, sitting up quickly your gaze quickly connects to Vash’s concerned one. Oh, that’s all you can come up with, because why is he here? Shouldn't Vash be with the others, having fun with people who can understand how to? “Are you okay?” Why does he have to speak to you in that gentle way? Why does he always just know? For a second and because you're a fucking idiot, you're angry. Standing quickly Vash removes his hand to stare at you with a question in his eyes, as his arm falls to his side. 

“I’m fine.” Your tone is cold, and straight to the point, his expression shifts, and it's just not fair how can someone possibly look at you like that? Like you hung the stars and the moon? Like your someone to be seen and looked at. “You’re a bad liar did you know that?” his tone is as always kind, but you can sense a hint of something more a plea to be honest with him. 

You are like a wild animal cornered; this is not why you ran out here. You don't want to talk, what was the point? Talking didn't fix what was broken inside of you, nothing could fix that. The sound of your name makes you look up, and you tense. Vash stood closer in front of you, not touching you, but if he reached out his hand he could. It was more the look in his eyes that made you freeze, he looked… tired? No, sad? That wasn't the word for it either… was it longing? 

“You don't have to pretend with me.”

Is that what you do? Pretend to be a person, pretend that you can make it through the day, pretend that your mind isn't a jumbled mess of too much and too little, and pretend that you're happy. Yeah, you guess he's right. The anger leaves you at once, shoulders dropping. “I don't know what to say.” and isn't that the truth, wouldn’t it be easier if you just could figure it out if you just knew? 

Vash’s face lights up, not because you are upset, but because it's the first honest answer he has gotten out of you in weeks. Nervously as if reaching for a wild animal, he reaches a hand out to you palm up. You stare at it, your eyes flickering from his hand to his bright blue eyes. “That’s okay! You don't have to say anything, not right now. Or ever even! I just want you to know…I care… and I get it.” he is rambling in that nervous way he does, his voice cracking a bit at the end you can see the embarrassed blush that sits on his cheeks. 

It makes your eyes soften and smile, his hand touches your face then, holding your cheek, and your breath hitches. His thumb rubs the top of your cheek, right under your eye. He’s smiling now too, and oh no, you think you have a new problem now… but one you don't mind facing. Well, you do mind, it's a little scary, but it makes your heart race in a nice fluttery way not the burn you're used to. “It's…hard to explain, I just… everything feels like too much?” You can’t meet his gaze. “Sorry, that makes no sense.” You say this with a small laugh. 

Your gaze drifts back to his when his other hand comes up to cup your other cheek, the feeling between his mechanical hand and his flesh hand is… nice. “No, it makes sense, you’re doing great.” The praise makes you blush, yeah this is going to be a big problem, future you are going to have to deal with that one. “Vash, thank you.” it's such a simple thing to say, but you hope he understands.

He does, how could he not? When it comes to you, he’ll do whatever it takes to understand, to just listen. You don’t need to talk or explain anything to him, he’s here and he’ll be here as long as you need it, which he hopes is a long time, because God does he need you.Reaching up with shy hands, you grip his wrists, for the first time all night your mind is settled and at peace. He can’t fix you, because rationally you are not broken. But he helps mend the wounds in your soul, in a way you’ve never felt before, you wish you could tell him just how much you appreciate it, his comfort, the endearing way he acts. You squeeze his wrists, giving him a smile. It feels like the start of something, but right now this moment is enough.

[oikyskau]

Hello, I wrote a little drabble to accompany this art piece; please take my humble offering:

Read on ao3, or under the read more!!

Meryl can’t sleep.

It’s not the cheap little inn in which they’ve found themselves for the night that is keeping her awake, not the creaking of the door or the echoes of whiskey-laced laughter creeping up the stairs and into her room. She’s not even bothered by the telltale sound of critters crawling over the still open window, trying to find refuge from the sandy dunes outside, like they did.

No, even with her mind still replaying the latest catastrophe they encountered on their travels through Noman’s Land, she would’ve been able to find some kind of rest; that strange gun-wielding maniac that had threatened to shoot up the entire town if they didn’t present him with the 6 million double dollar bounty without comprehending what facing said 6 million double dollar bounty would mean for him – neither of them did, truly, as they finished the day watching the gun-wielding maniac drunkenly apologise to them whilst snot was running down his face.

Meryl shivers at the recollection.

And shivers again when the reason for her current insomnia huffs against her chest and proceeds to nuzzle into her breasts. Her cheeks warm with that familiar spark of heat that she’s learned is just her body’s natural reaction to Vash’s skin on hers. Another shift of his body, thigh twitching against hers, followed by a small hiccup, almost too quiet to hear. Heat turns into concern, just as heavy a weight as his body on hers. She doesn’t hesitate, hand sliding down his back, the other one nestling in his hair. The strands are soft against the tips of her fingers as she brushes through them, like protruding feathers, almost.

Vash sighs, muscles going lax as whatever ailed him seems to evaporate. Despite the exhaustion hanging off her bones, Meryl’s lips twitch into a smile. Perhaps her body was right to keep her awake, granting her own anxious mind the solace of seeing the one person you care for so intensely finally at peace. Her fingers brush over scars, blooming over Vash’s back as if they had split his skin open to reveal his true shape. They feel coarse, but no longer make her wince as they did the first time she splayed her hands over them.

She hasn’t seen Vash this relaxed in a long time. It’s nice.

Leaning forward, she presses her lips against the crown of his head to quell the overwhelming feeling rising in her chest. It almost brings tears to her eyes; the tenderness of the gesture is not new, but rare in between fights and blood and debilitating sandstorms. Just as she’s pressed her eyes shut in another attempt to finally fall asleep, Vash’s body stirs.

He whines, low and needy, lips dragging over her skin wetly as he rouses (she’s pretty sure that’s drool). She watches as he drags his head upwards, until they’re face to face. His eyes droop down midway through, blink open again blearily in an obvious attempt to find hers. When they do, his lips squish and jut out, until they mirror the pout on her own. Meryl almost calls him cute then, if it weren’t for the deep circles underneath his eyes, belying the exhaustion resting underneath his skin.

Oh, Vash, Meryl wants to say, murmur it into that sacred space between them, your typhoon doesn’t make a halt even for you, does it? She wishes she could keep him here, keep them both here, in this shitty room above a shitty saloon, where no brothers or responsibilities or the goddamn bad lads gang can find them. She wishes they could rest, only for a moment, but longer than a single night; rest until the hop in Vash’s step stops being fake, until the weight of her gun stops feeling heavy against her conscience.

Vash huffs, a tiny little sound, brows furrowing slightly. Fuck, she just wants him to be happy.

“M’ryl?” Vash’s voice is a little too raspy, not awake enough to make sense. “Y’r like a pillow.”

It’s too much. She feels her heart burst, explode into every crevice of her body. It fills and fills and fills, flowing past the hollow of her ribs, up to her flushing skin and down her arms where hairs rise in its energy. Her fingers tighten as she yanks Vash's face closer. He yelps until he feels her lips hit his cheek, a little too forceful, a little too enthusiastic. She feels him laugh just as his cheek warms underneath her lips.

“Meryl,” he sighs sleepily, not even attempting to escape the death grip she has on him. Good, she wouldn't have let him leave either way.

They stay like this, buried in affection and warmth, nuzzling against each other. It doesn’t take Meryl long to recognise what that feeling fizzling in her chest means, but it takes the rest of the time to gather her courage to voice it.

“Vash,” she whispers, voice barely audible above the clanking of glasses from downstairs, “I love you.”

The night remains silent after those fateful words, ringing within her ears louder than it usually would. She swallows, arms tightening around him until she identifies the rhythmic movement of his chest, the calm exhaling of breath. Her lips pull into a smile, soft and sweet just as the sleeping body resting upon hers makes her feel. She’ll tell him another time, soon.

[finnpeach]

Memory - Trigun Stampede

guess who's still going on about trigun stampede. anyway we aren't surprised, here's our favourite eulogist wolfwood with a cold and being a big grump to vash (with a touch of angst because if it's a finnpeach fic there will be angst). comments, tags, and feedback always loved and giggled over <3

once again set between episode 4 and 5, but slight spoilers if you haven't seen episode 6 :)

It takes two days for them to get closer to the next outpost after their second encounter with a worm. On the way, they ran into a couple of travelers that needed help, and Vash obviously insisted they stop and assist them. The next day when they set out again, the car broke down and Roberto and Vash had to spend the whole day trying to fix it until it ran again. 

Wolfwood had started feeling a dull ache in his head and a soreness in his throat the night they escaped the first worm. He chalked it up to being dehydrated, but when he woke up the next morning with a throbbing pain in his sinuses and a cough in his chest, he knew he’d caught a cold. 

He hasn’t been sick since his days at the orphanage. Frankly, he doesn’t even know how he got sick, but guesses he picked something up when they were inside the worm, or just simply from over exhausting himself the past few days. Either way, he feels like shit and is starting to lose his capacity for hiding it.

Vash, of course, is the first to notice. They’re sitting in the backseat of the vehicle, watching the next outpost grow closer when the first sneeze of many sneaks up on Wolfwood. He has barely enough time to rip the cigarette out of his mouth before—

“Huh’EGhZTSSHh!” He steeples his hands over his nose and mouth, cigarette pinched between his pointer and middle finger as he pitches forward in the seat. Ugh, that had hurt his throat. Wolfwood slumps back into the seat with a sniffle and rubs at his nose, beginning to feel miserable.

“Are you okay?” There comes that soft, sensitive voice, dripping with genuine concern. Wolfwood fights the urge to roll his eyes. Vash is looking at him with an inquisitive gaze, leaning forward slightly towards him as if to get a better look.

Wolfwood grits his teeth. “I’mb fide,” he mutters, hating that his voice is already thick with congestion. He places the cigarette against his lips and puffs out a cloud of smoke in an irritated huff. Meryl and Roberto are bickering away up front, oblivious to their conversation. 

“You shouldn’t smoke if you have a cold.” 

God, does he ever let up? “I told you I’mb fide, needle-noggid, let it go. It was just a sdneeze.”

He takes another long drag from his cigarette. Unfortunately, he does not prove his point. The smoke catches in his throat and sends him into a coughing fit. 

Suddenly, there’s a hand against his back, patting him through the fit. It’s surprising enough to distract him from the tightness in his throat and make the coughs subside.  

Vash is smiling at him, his hand extended across Wolfwood’s back. Wolfwood slaps at his wrist with a growl and turns back towards the window. He wishes Vash would just leave him alone. 

Hurt, Vash whimpers a little and rubs his wrist. He aches to do something for him, but decides it’s best to leave Wolfwood be for a bit, lest he gets bitten.

They decide to make camp about a half a mile from the outpost. It’s getting late and they don’t want to sneak into the town when there’s likely to be police or headhunters crawling about at night. Meryl and Roberto busy themselves with the sleeping rolls and dinner while Vash and Wolfwood set up the fire. 

The sneezing has only coupled in frequency since they’ve stopped to make camp. He’s had to forgo carrying around his cross just to make sure he doesn’t slip a disc every time a sneeze makes him pitch forward.

“Hh’EGHTSHHhh! Hh’EHGXSTh’huh!” Wolfwood nearly drops the firewood that time, stumbling forward in the sand. Vash is there in an instant and steadies him with a hand to his shoulder. 

Wolfwood shakes his head and tosses the firewood down. “Thagks,” he mumbles, coughing offhandedly into his wrist. His sinuses feel heavy with snot and his throat is killing him. He wishes the sand would swallow him whole right now.

Vash passes him a water flask and Wolfwood hesitates a second as he unscrews the cap. He doesn’t want to get everyone else sick if they share the flask, so he decides to waterfall it instead.

“See? I knew it.” Vash says with an elated grin, noticing Wolfwood’s caution. He looks like a kid who just guessed a riddle correctly. “You are sick. You should—“

“You should mind your own business, blondie. Leave me alone.” Wolfwood thrusts the flask against Vash’s chest and crouches down to arrange the firewood. His head is pounding. He’d like nothing more than to get out of this sun and lay down in a nice bed, or take a bath, or anything rather than be out here in the sweltering desert with a cold that’s growing worse by the minute. He lights a piece of newspaper on fire and sets it amongst the wood, watching as the sparks float up into the sunset sky.

Vash, despite looking like a puppy that’s been kicked, leaves him alone and heads over to Meryl and Roberto. They exchange some words, and then Vash is gone.

Good riddance, Wolfwood thinks. Maybe now he can sneeze in peace without being fussed over. He lights another cigarette and sits down by the fire. The smoke tingles in his sinuses as he inhales and he ends up sneezing again. 

“Huh’EHDSSHhT’chuh! Hih.. hih’EHDZSSH’YUE! Hhh.. he’eh…!” He catches the loud, grating sneezes into his hands, biting the cigarette between his teeth. The last one leaves him hanging, sitting there with his head tilted back, eyebrows twitching in sneezy irritation, the cigarette dangling on his bottom lip. When it still doesn’t come, he decides to try something that used to work when he was younger. He taps the side of his nose and the effect is immediate. 

“H’EHTSssHhh’ue! Heh’EHDTZzSSH’huh!” He doesn’t have enough time to cover and the cigarette shoots out of his mouth with the final spraying sneeze, landing pathetically in the sand. His shades are askew on his nose, which has started to run profusely. To add insult to injury, his sneezes have gathered attention again.

“Jeez, Wolfwood, that sounds bad. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Meryl asks as she unrolls her bed roll a few feet away from the fire. Roberto does the same. He’s not looking at Wolfwood, but he’s clearly listening.

“Will you all just shut up? I’b fide. Drop it.” He pulls his cigarette pack out of his pocket and clicks his tongue against his teeth when he sees that there’s none left. 

He turns to Roberto, who is currently taking a heavy drag off his own cigarette. “Hey, you got another cigarette I can borrow?” 

“Sorry, kid, but Vash told me not to give you one till your cold gets better.” Roberto chuckles as Wolfwood's face twists in pure rage. 

“Where is needle-noggid adyway?” Wolfwood sniffles back his congestion. He despises how hoarse his voice is starting to sound. 

“He didn’t tell you? He went into town to get medicine. Should be back soon,” Meryl says as she passes around cans of stew. It’s their meagre dinner for the evening until they can resupply at the next town.

Wolfwood wants to rip his hair out. He can literally feel the irritation and anger bubbling in him like hot steam in a teapot. How many times does he have to tell him to fuck off? He doesn’t need medicine, and he doesn’t need anyone’s pity. He rejects the proffered can of stew and opts to lay down on his bedroll, wishing sleep would take him and get him away from these people that care too much. 

After about an hour or so of laying there feeling sorry for himself, Vash reappears above him. The sun has nearly completely set, save for a few strokes of pink and red that paint the sky.

Vash looks down at him with a soft, gentle grin. Wolfwood wants to smack the smile off his face. 

“Hey, Wolfwood, I got you some medicine from the town. You should take it so you don’t get worse.” Vash hands him a little packet of pills and the water flask again. 

Wolfwood is beyond fighting at this point. His muscles ache with fatigue, and a sinus headache is starting to creep up on him. He takes two of the pills and downs them with the water before flopping back down on his bedroll again. It’s starting to get cold now that the sun is down, though it could be a fever settling in. Either way, he wraps his arms around himself and scoots closer to the fire as Vash and Meryl and Roberto start chatting. Above, the sky is bright with millions of twinkling stars, and the moon casts her soft luminescent gleams over them. His eyes grow heavy and his breathing starts to deepen. Wolfwood lets the sound of their conversation and the crackle of the fire lull him to sleep. 

He dreams for the first time in a while. He’s a child again and is back at the orphanage. He’s alone, laying in the infirmary with only a thin blanket to stop the shivers that rack his entire body. It’s so cold. 

This is a distant memory to him. Everything seems cloudy, grey, hazy. He can’t make sense of it. Had it happened this way? He’d had a high fever, and was quarantined away from the other children. Only one managed to sneak in to see him.

“Nico?” Comes a small, cautious voice. What was once a dim, grey memory now bursts alight with colour in his presence.

“L-Livio,” he says through chattering teeth. Livio is standing beside the bed, unsure. He’s never wandered somewhere unknown without Wolfwood. How did he get into the infirmary? 

“G-Go away, you’ll get sick.” He coughs into his fist, twisting away from the other boy as much as possible. 

Livio doesn’t answer, just stares at Wolfwood with his big owl eyes and looks him over. Silently, he climbs into bed under the blanket and curls against his friend’s side. His face nuzzles against Wolfwood’s neck as he wraps his smaller body around him. 

Warmth spreads through his body as if he’s being caressed by the summer sun. The shivers slowly start to subside, no match against the warmth, as he relaxes against Livio. 

Yes, this is exactly how it happened. 

Except, his grey hair is starting to tickle his nose, and the sensation is so real that it wakes him up. 

Wolfwood awakes with a start. “Livio?” Where is he?

He takes a moment to gather his bearings. He’s not at the orphanage, he’s camped out under the stars with two journalists and an outlaw. Right. 

The burning itch in his nose is back. Something feathery and blonde is tickling his nostrils, and he looks down to see someone nestled against his shoulder, their body curled around his. Its owner is snoring softly beneath him. 

Vash?!

“H’EGhNXT’shh!” Wolfwood sneezes as the tickle becomes too strong, twisting his head to the side so he doesn’t sneeze all over Vash. Anger sparks in his chest like a fuse.

Wolfwood shoves the sleeping Vash off of him and scrambles away. The cold is eager to reclaim him and seeps into his body in an instant.  

“Vash! What the fuck?!” He hisses, like water pouring over coals.

Vash gives a little start and shakes his head. “Huh…?” He gazes up at Wolfwood with sleepy, confused eyes. He seems surprised to suddenly find himself laying on the ground. 

“Why were you sleeping on me?!” There’s a heavy weight across his body. Wolfwood looks down to see Vash’s red coat lying across him, keeping out the cold desert air. 

Vash yawns and rubs his eyes. “You were shivering, so I came over to keep you warm. And you were talking in your sleep for a while. Who’s Livio?” 

Wolfwood feels panic rise within him at hearing someone speak Livio’s name. He grabs the red coat and tosses it at Vash’s face, who doesn’t catch it in time and ends up wrestling the coat off his head, falling onto his back.

“No one. Go back to sleep,” he growls, turning onto his side so his back is facing Vash. He wants to forget this ever happened. He wants to go back to that dream. And now that he’s awake, he’s rudely reminded of how sick he feels.

He shivers involuntarily when a sharp breeze howls against his back, the sensation chilling him to the bone. Wolfwood sniffles and tries to ignore the fact that he needs to sneeze again. He pinches his nose, rubs it angrily against his sleeve, but it’s no good. 

“Hih’EDTZSSHhh’uh!” He tents his hands over his nose again to catch the wet sneeze. He sniffles thickly and coughs, his eyes brimming with irritated tears. Suddenly, there’s a heavy weight placed down gently across him. Wolfwood opens his eyes to see Vash tucking his red coat around the curve of his body.

“I told you I dod’t need—“

“Just sleep with it tonight, okay? You do need it.” His tone is firm, commanding. It’s so different from his typical soft, kind voice. It leaves no room for argument. Vash tucks in one final corner around his hips before laying back down again. 

Wolfwood relents and decides that being warm under Vash’s coat beats shivering all night long. He tucks his chin under the coat and closes his tired eyes, feeling himself dragged into sleep like a helpless rowboat at sea. As his mind starts to teeter between reality and sleep, he lets his dreams wander back to Livio again, and returns to the peaceful embrace of memory.

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Trimax Thoughts Vol. 5 Pt. 1

Here's my stream of consciousness thoughts for the volume again. Sorry I'm late! Can't wait to suffer more!

Nooooo my poor boy... ugh this is fucking visceral...

Ooo... he was looking for Count Vasquez... that's interesting. That's the man he's suspected in the murder of way back on his wanted poster.

Hey so. This is so much fucking worse. He knew these people. He liked these people. They liked him and they didn't want him to leave so soon. Agony.

Always someone to be helped, huh? Always a reason to get back on his feet again... go get Meryl back!

Midvalley and Hoppered just killed Zazie??? Hello???

Actually Midvalley is really powerful... I love when characters have sound based powers yesssss. I also like these two as a duo they're kind of funny to me. Hoppered doesn't care if he dies and Midvalley wants to get out so bad. Hoppered warns people they're about to be killed and Midvalley just wants to murder people with his saxophone in peace. Somehow they spend a fair amount of their dialogue being honest and concerned about the other and handshake over having the same no good terrible boss hjfghbn

Hoppered... :( (Also fuck these people man. Hoppered is just trying to look out for this girl because it seems like no one else will without looking down on them or trying to take advantage of them... *snapcube sonic fandub voice* "you ableist piece of shit"... I actually want to know what the relation is here. Guy just kind of assumed they're together or something but maybe it's more that they are the only ones like the other... I kind of vibe with it being a shared trauma or shared experience thing they've got going... obsessed too, with the fact that we haven't actually seen his face at all... he warns people to get away but then quietly watches them die... does it bother him? does he justify it somehow? ...anyways Hoppered my fave GHG for real I love him.)

(Also he's cute actually. He's so earnest compared to the rest of the GHG. Look at him <3)

So yeah, confirmation that Wolfwood currently cannot see, his head is likely ringing and who knows what other internal damage he's taken and he is still fighting. He is so cool but also :(

Oh HECK YEAH MILLY!!!

^Midvalley and Wolfwood rival ballet dancer au when

*Midvalley voice* I know what you are

Oh! We can see Hoppered now! He... has a cross on his face...? Um. I am even more curious about him now...

*chuckles* Oh we are in danger.

Yo Knives WTF. Also I feel so fucking bad for Hoppered oh my god he's seeing and feeling all of this.

We actually see the people getting sucked in??? Aughhhh

OH NO MERYL SAW IT ALL TOO??? NOOOOO OH MY GOD

Did Legato just make Hoppered kill Midvalley??? Oh god and that was Hoppered screaming once he realized it too... And then he RUNS HIM OVER??? LEGATO WTF.

Zazie's back!!!

So this is complicated lemme see if I got it right: Vash is stopping Legato from running over Hoppered. Legato is using all his power to hold Vash. Because he is doing this, he can't spare enough power to stop Hoppered from pointing a gun at him. Wolfwood is pointing his guns at Legato and Zazie. Zazie is pointing their guns at Wolfwood and Hoppered. And Midvalley... is fucking dead I guess. ...where's Meryl...?

OH QUEEN SHIT HELLO??? And she shot Legato in the face lmao. Who's gonna break the standoff? It's Meryl with a steel chair derringer!!!

You know. I think there's something to be said about Vash activating the angel arm in response to Hoppered about to be shot... I can't brain right now but it says a lot about how he only ever tries to help but all this destruction comes along with him.

"If I could save a single life... if I could do just a little... would that... be good enough?" <- Vash from Trigun and Atsushi from Bungou Stray Dogs shaking hands because they are literally same hat

Ok so airship woman's "I hate suicidal people" -> I thought she was talking about Vash at first but it seems she's talking about Legato. Interesting. Also I think Legato is seriously having a sanity slippage here.

The difference between Vash sprouting feathers like an angel in reality, but seeing himself as this twisted eldritch freak in his own mind... all the contorted pieces of the people who died in some kind of living horror show on his own body as he apologizes over and over... :(

Because they were kind... that is what it comes down to after all...

Elendira has the character intro ever. All mysterious on the phone with Knives, big damn villains moment where she stops the angel arm going off, nails the weird creature person thing helping Legato with absolutely zero effort on her part, then immediately falls from the airship on her ass and says "owie". She is then revealed to be trans and the most powerful secret GHG on the very next page. She impales Legato and takes him with her like one would a runaway puppy and delivers an ominous final warning which she ends off with "ciao!". What a character. 10/10 I'm obsessed with her already.

Hoppered... :( I find his last words interesting. He refers to himself as the bad guy but then also still feels such resentment for Vash that he still wants him to suffer, yet in such a resigned tone... Then Vash reaches out to take his hand with the hand that becomes his angel arm, having since gotten it under control, safe enough to provide a bit of final respite now instead of cause more harm...

MUCH NEEDED CATHARSIS! MILLY AND MERYL HUGS!

Vash hosting funerals for Midvalley and Hoppered... :')

^Another great example of Vash taking responsibility for things and that going beyond just a simple "no one dies" mentality and carrying that on beyond just action and fights - but also I love that he dragged Wolfwood into it and apparently did not explain anything to him. And Wolfwood apparently just started shoveling without understanding why he was being told to do so. ??????? These two were born to be a comedy duo.

Anyways. I'm sad. :)

[triplesilverstar]

Being eaten shouldn't be considered normal

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Pairing: Vash X F!Reader

CW: Canon-Typical Violence, Death, suspicion, Emotional Hurt, Medical Inaccuracies, Gunshot Wounds, Blood, Blood and Injury

Word count: Roughly 2.6K 

A/N: Chap 3 of A mysterious stranger and eaten, so I won’t lie. Episode 4 always makes me think of tremors. ALWAYS…

Three days after the destruction of Jeneora Rock you decide you're done waiting for Vash to snap out of his pity party of one, planning when you stop for the day to take him aside. Too bad Meryl almost makes someone into roadkill first, and you realize that today might not be the best day for trying to find some alone time.

You have no time to react, senses still reeling from the pain in your skull, but you do feel a set of arms wrap around you as you find yourself surrounded by sand and falling. The sudden loss of firm ground under you, adding to your current disorientation. All your body does is instinctive, reaching out to grab the fabric in front of you and pressing your face against it. The sudden vertigo makes you want to vomit, and you bury your face further into the fabric, feeling radiating warmth from the skin under it. You don’t feel the impact on the ground from the fall as the body under you absorbs it, but you do feel however when you’re adjusted and they remove your fingers from them and place you on the ground. The sound of rushing steps and crashing objects coming in through just the right ear. 

When your brain finally comes back around to wanting to accept input from your senses, you realize you’re sitting down on what can only be the insides of a worm. Great. You’ve been eaten. Sadly, not for the first time in your life, by a giant creature. “This is getting old real fast” before you can stand up a hand is placed where you can see it but from your Right side, causing you to flinch. From above you, you don’t see the shift of concern across Roberto’s face before you do take the offered limb to help yourself rise. 

You also miss when Roberto tells Vash “you should check on your bounty hunter” while everyone is gathering their senses and looking around. Vash seems to almost jump at his words, but looking at you he can see the disorientation still on your face. Approaching you wary, he knows how startled you can get with one of your senses essentially turned off and you’re trying to fiddle with your ear piece. 

“Here” you pause glancing at him and see his raised hands “Lets see if we can’t fix that ear piece of yours.” Nimble fingers reach up and he starts moving the controls before re-engaging the device, a visible flinch from your shoulder. The static is still there, just so much lower now and you aren’t sure if it’s from the changed setting or something else. “Are you in any pain now?” 

You shake your head, if you have to deal with the low whine you will, it’s better then it was “Any blood you can see around?” blinking the last of your tears away, you start looking around taking in the ground around you. 

“No blood, so that’s a positive right” there’s a hint of cheer to his voice, it’s partial fake cheer but it’s the most he’s spoken to you in three days so you’ll take it. “Let’s rejoin the others.”

Nodding you follow after him, looking down at the ground and bones scattered around, pausing to pick one up and inspect it. “That’s morbid” Roberto deadpans as you get closer, while you turn it in your hands. While it’s still whole you can see whatever the worm uses to digest its food has certainly been working on this, parts of the bone worn almost thin enough that you think a good squeeze would break it. Given the state of it’s breakdown, and how it’s dry to the touch, you have to assume worms have a slow process and notice shallow pools of liquid. Dropping the skull in, you watch as the liquid starts to form fine bubbles on the submerged portion. “I suggest everyone watch their footing for these pools.” 

Besides Vash you watch as Meryl looks up at the flesh ceiling above her, taking in the sights and almost stepping on another skull. 

“Watch where you’re walking little lady” the mystery man calls out, while Meryl looks down, almost jumping back as she makes a noise of surprise. And as a smaller worm crawls from the skull she screams louder, jumping away from the flying creature near her. You’d chuckle if it wasn’t so funny. 

“Wait a sec, check em out” the sound of his voice draws you away from laughing at the young woman's predicament, as the insides of the worm seem to turn green as the insect flies by. 

“It’s like they’re talking” as the lights flash you hear the static grow in your ear again, nowhere near as violent but you still flinch, imperceptible to anyone except Vash who’s too interested in the light show to notice. “I’ve heard something about worms being interconnected” Meryl seems fascinated as she watches, and you try to reach up and flick the volume down even lower. 

“You’ve heard right, that’s it’s detached electron network, the bigger the worm the more detached electrons it holds, judging by his size this guy must be a pillar of his community” As Roberto steps closer you watch as his eyes flick towards you. “Might explain why Snipes here is having difficulties. I don’t know how your earpiece works, but I'm guessing the detached electrons are interfering with its functions.” His words seem to bring the group's attention back to you, sadly just in time for you to flinch again from the static in your ear. A flash of concern on Vash’s face and you try to send him a reassuring smile, which based on his expression, tells you it didn’t do a thing.  

“Which means” you flick your gaze back to Meryl, for a reporter she is really bad at putting two and two together. 

Roberto does lean closer to her, the start of a maniacal grin on his face “Which means we're inside the head honcho, and our sniper is going to have hearing issues while we’re in here.” Near the end he flicks his gaze back to you “Can you handle yourself with your hearing affected?” 

“Yea, I mean, what’s a little bit of pain?” You’re trying to put on a fake smile and laugh it off, but you know the only person who seems to have bought it was Meryl. The look on Vash’s face makes your heart clench, it’s like he’s just realized how little the two of you have spoken in the past few days and he’s finally seeing how much you're hurting right now, the static, even low is a constant sound ringing in your skull. If you survive this you’re going to have one hell of a headache. 

Attention drawn from you as the child runs off, Meryl and Vash calling out for him to stop and you let out a sigh of relief. Glad to have the attention off of you, as you slowly follow after the other two as they run, leaving Roberto and the cross carrying man behind you. Watching as the child runs off, climbing up the raised tissue that leads up to another area inside the worm. You have to admit, you’re even more suspicious now at the way they climbed it. That’s a body that’s used to darting around and moving upwards, you’d seen similar movements made by predators on other worlds. 

“Come back!” Both Meryl and Vash are panting at the base of the climb, the stale air not helping their lungs and you’re glad you didn’t do the same. Making yourself more of a liability at the moment wouldn’t be smart, not with two unknowns in the area. Climbing up just ahead of Vash you don’t miss the brief press of his hand to your lower back when you stumble. At the top, the three of you stare at the four openings, shit. Why does this feel like a set up.

“Now, which one would our friend choose?” Vash is curious but the area provides no answers, not even a hint of light to show if the worm the child had been chasing had gone through one of the openings.  

“The kiddo is quite the twinkle toes” if this guy keeps making such sarcastic comments you’re soon going to deck him. You can only handle so much and with everything else going on he might be the straw that makes you snap. 

“Your toes might be twinkling if you would put down that cross.” Based on his tone Roberto is in the same boat as you, you just hope the other two have figured out something is up with the mystery man. 

“Sorry big man, can’t work without it, you never know when you might need an undertaker.” Last time you checked, undertakers don’t use crosses as their tools of the trade, and it hadn’t helped get the bodies ready to be buried earlier. 

“So, what are we doing here folks?” you speak up, wary of what might be suggested given the multiple tunnels ready to put a stop to it if the undertaker decides to go off with Vash. This setup is too perfect for all of you to be split up, and you’re starting to wonder if the two unknowns aren’t part of a gang of some kind. Starting to wonder if maybe your little group running into him had been an accident at all. You might not have been paying attention earlier, but the fact he just happened to appear in a vast desert right in front of the truck. The truck containing one of two independent plants on the planet. 

“Right then lets split up to look for the kid. The far ones yours needle noggin” the fact the undertaker is taking the lead follows right in with what you thought. Something else is going on here. 

“What, who me?” Vash seems surprised at the nickname and you try to catch his eye, you need to make sure he’s on the same page as you regarding what’s going on. He might not take action with his trusting nature, but you don’t need him stabbed in the back either. 

“Little lady, Sweet cheeks, you’re next to him” It takes a moment for his words to sink into your head.

“Pardon!” Did this little shit just call you Sweet cheeks!? There has to be a sneer on your face, certain you snarled at the nickname turning to angle yourself preparing to bite out a scathing remark. A hand hidden by your body reaches out and grabs yours, a thumb running over the knuckles of your fist. Head turning back to Vash, keeping your entangled hands out of sight, concern and a hint of amusement on his face. You catch his eyes flick to him then back to you and up to your rifle strapped to your back. At least your sunshine is aware something isn’t right about this whole situation. You swallow down your indignation, to an extent, the tips of your ears no doubt red from rage. The soft smile on his face does leave you calmer. At least if you’re paired up with Meryl, you can try and make sure nothing happens to the younger woman. 

Drawn back to the group as Meryl snarks at the undertaker “who died and made you King!?” It’s a valid question, but your attention as Vash’s hand slips from yours is more on Roberto checking his derringer. A small gun, but at least you don’t have to worry about the other member of your group that can keep a level head. 

“Hey we can’t waste time” before Meryl can argue further you place a hand on her shoulder gently, drawing her attention back to you. 

“Come on, Penny. I’m gonna be relying on you while my hearing is messed up.” That seems to bring a soft smile to her face, and you reach into one of your pockets, pulling a flashlight from it to hand her. “Lead the way. And you” you throw over your shoulder as you walk after her “don’t call me Sweet cheeks!” There are other words you want to say but you know any threat you utter won’t be taken seriously by the mystery man.

Moments later as you get on your hands and knees, rifle slung due to the narrow space, you hear a click across your ear piece. “For the record, you do have a nice butt Mayfly.” A flush rushes across your face, now is not the time for Vash to be flirting with you. “Stay alert, I know you’ve figured out something isn’t right, so look after yourself and Meryl. And try not to shoot anyone you don’t have too.” You can’t answer him right now, content to just let the others believe the tech in your ear is just to augment your own senses, though at the rate things are going you wouldn’t be surprised if Roberto has already figured out it’s a communication device. Or that you and Vash are on the same frequency.

As you crawl along Meryl is muttering to herself before she snaps “This is idioctic, I bet he’s just trying to make a buck. That weirdo profits off death!” you roll your eyes.

“I agree that he’s an idiot, Penny. But how would he profit off this? We aren’t paying that pathetic invoice he tried to pass off that I burned. So why would he think this might get a different response? Honestly. I’m more surprised he isn’t trying to cash in on Vash’s bounty.” 

“You mean like you did once upon a time?” Ahead of you she pauses a shudder racking her frame so you don’t bother to answer “Did you hear that?” You pause as well, but all you can hear is static, which when you verbalize the fact, does nothing to help her fraying nerves. “So, nobodies out there to get us, yeah?” Moving closer, you pat the small of her back hoping it comes across as reassuring and not creepy. 

“You’re probably just hearing the worm's organs doing their thing, Penny” Her head whips around to look at you, even paler than normal. That. Might not have helped things. The two of you start moving forward again, and the beam of light illuminates the child's body laying across the tunnel ahead of you. 

“We’re almost too you!” Meryl is, you’ve paused. Something isn’t right, the kid is lying horizontal across the tunnel like they’re injured. The placement doesn’t make sense if they were chasing after the worm and just stung, the venom should have dropped them so you saw their feet instead of their back. “I’m right here!” Before you can yell a warning not to touch the kid, the screeching static is back in your ear forcing you to shut your eyes in pain. 

You don’t have room to unsling Bertha, left wrist flicking and disengaging the ties that keep your baton secure against your wrist. Fingers around the handle you swing, extending the baton to its full length, and it cracks the worm that seemed to appear from nowhere against the walls of the cavern you were traveling down. A satisfying splat against the wall, and the static in your ear has gone back to the low hum. 

“My my. That’s quite the reaction you have there, I figured I’d have to deal with you first after all that snooping you did at the diner. You are far more aware of your surroundings than you let on.” You don’t know who the voice belongs to, but you’re starting to suspect it’s the child that’s been nonverbal up until this point. A short creepy chortle follows there words “Too bad you missed something” more laughter and screeching static for the third time fills your ear. “Enjoy your trip Ghost!”

And you’re overcome by the sensation of the floor falling out from under you again. This is why you don’t enjoy being eaten by leviathan class sized creatures.

Back to Masterlist for the series

[post-cinema]

The 1970s love affair between Meryl Streep and John Cazale saw them both on new acting paths but their journey together ended in tragedy.

In 1978, a young Meryl Streep was on the verge of becoming the greatest actress of her generation. She was also about to lose the love of her life. Streep was 29 years old, a gosling in the New York theater world. She was living in a loft on Franklin Street with her boyfriend, actor John Cazale. He was 14 years her senior and a legend among his peers.

Streep and Cazale met in 1976, when they were cast opposite each other in Measure for Measure in Central Park. By then, Cazale was not quite a star — he lacked that ephemeral quality — but he was regarded, in the industry, as a rare talent, in demand among the great directors of the era.

He was Fredo in The Godfather and The Godfather Part II, and had lead roles in The Conversation and Dog Day Afternoon. Of the five movies he starred in, all would be nominated for Best Picture, and three would win.

“One of the things I loved about the casting of John Cazale,” said Dog Day director Sidney Lumet, “was that he had a tremendous sadness about him. I don’t know where it came from; I don’t believe in invading the privacy of the actors I work with or getting into their heads. But my God, it’s there — every shot of him.”

And then there were his unusual looks, so perfect for the misfits of ’70s cinema: attenuated frame, high forehead, prominent nose. Sad, black eyes. Streep fell for him instantly. He was equally knocked out.

In looks and manner, Cazale was completely foreign to the young Streep. “He wasn’t like anybody I’d ever met,” she said later. “It was the specificity of him, and his sort of humanity and his curiosity about people, his compassion.”

They were the envy of the New York theater world — she the most naturally gifted actress in generations, he the most naturally gifted actor, legendary director Joe Papp their patron — until one day in May 1977.

Cazale, who was in previews for Agamemnon uptown, had been feeling ill enough to miss performances. Papp was concerned enough to get Cazale an emergency appointment with his own doctor on the Upper East Side. Within days, Streep and Cazale were sitting in the doctor’s office with Joe and Gail Papp. The diagnosis: Cazale had terminal lung cancer. It had spread throughout his body. They sat there, Gail Papp said, feeling “like you’ve been struck dead on the spot.”

Streep and Cazale tried to keep the severity of his condition between them. Even Cazale’s brother, Stephen, didn’t realize how bad it was until one day, after the three of them had lunch in Chinatown, Cazale stopped on the sidewalk and spat up blood.

Streep was determined to help Cazale overcome his cancer, and the two confided in Pacino, who took the actor to his radiation treatments. Rober DeNiro would later confess that he’d never seen one human being as devoted to another as Streep was to Cazale. Streep spent the last five months of Cazale’s life by his side, putting her career on hold.

Meryl Streep later said that the time they had together, retreating into their cocoon, gave her a weird sort of protection. She confided in very few people, and wrote to her old drama teacher at Yale, Bobby Lewis, of her true emotional state.

“My beau is terribly ill and sometimes, as now, in the hospital,” Streep wrote. “He has very wonderful care and I try not to stand around wringing my hands, but I am worried all the time and pretending to be cheery all the time, which is more exhausting mentally physically emotionally than any work I’ve ever done.”

In early March 1978, Cazale entered Memorial Sloan Kettering. Streep never left his side. On March 12, 1978, at 3 a.m., Cazale’s doctor told Streep, “He’s gone.”

Meryl Streep wasn’t ready to hear it, much less believe it. What happened next, by some accounts, was the culmination of all the tenacious hope Meryl had kept alive for the past 10 months. She pounded on his chest, sobbing, and for a brief, alarming moment, John opened his eyes. “It’s all right, Meryl,” he said weakly. “It’s all right.” Then he closed his eyes and died. Streep’s first call was to Cazale’s brother, Stephen. She sobbed throughout.

“I tried,” she told him

[pancake-breakfast]

CW: Trauma and Suicidal Ideation

Once we reach volume 6 of Trigun Maximum, I think it's fair to say that no one in our party of protagonists understands Vash on an emotional level more than Meryl. After all, she's the one who got a full dose of Vash's emotions back in the Dragon's Nest.

It seems like a lot of what we see of Meryl in Volume 6 is her trying to process all of that, which honestly would be rough for anyone. We've seen how Vash himself is processing it and that can easily be summed up as "not well." It's not exactly a surprise that she's showing signs of depression and suffering from night terrors all throughout the first chapter. But in spite of the fact that Vash (likely inadvertently) traumatized her with both his history and the reveal of what he is, she remains so concerned about him.

The first action we see her take after coming across his memories isn't to try and flee or defend herself from him, but to shoot at Legato. There are five superhuman beings stuck in a deadlock, and then there's her, a mere normal human, and she's the one who breaks that deadlock. She sees what she needs to do and, despite the tears in her eyes, she does it without hesitation to defend herself and her friends.

She may be small, but her power is adequate.

And when everything dies down, she's the first to verbally check on Vash.

This question is kind of loaded, though. On the surface, she's asking if he's ok and back in control, but she could also be asking a myriad of things about what the hell even happened just now, or what happened in July, or how everything she saw about his arm in his memories has affected his wellbeing and how he's coping.

Vash's response is meant to reassure her, but it's so vague it does little to dispel anything but the fear of immediate danger (be it to himself or to others around him). It's no wonder Meryl is still haunted by so many thoughts and feelings after all this; they really needed to sit down and have a long talk about what happened both in the Dragon's Nest and in what she saw in his memories. But they don't. And so Meryl is left floundering.

It's something that's gonna bite them both in the ass sooner rather than later. Much, much sooner.

But again, as we move into the next chapter ("The Gunslinger"), Meryl's primary concern still isn't about Vash's destructive capability. It's about whether or not he'll be able to survive his next gunfight. 'Cause there's always a next gunfight for Vash.

Sorry, I lied. That's not the face of someone who's afraid their friend won't be able to pull a trigger to save their own life in the next gunfight (which is playing out in the now right in front of her for this scene). That's the face of someone who is deeply concerned for her friend whom she know is absolutely drowning in the sorrow of his past actions, of having pulled a much bigger trigger than the one of the gun now in his hand (or even of the Punisher that Vash has seen fit to commandeer for this mission), and who has every reason not only to go to great lengths to never repeat the mistake of July again, but enough regret to possibly let even the lowest of lowlife scum put a bullet in his own head to keep that from happening.

She thinks of his angel arm, but her immediate thought isn't, "Oh, no! What if he goes off again?" Her thought is, "Oh, god. He's carrying waaaaay too much emotionally, it's making him suicidal, and he is going to die here."

So, then, what's up with this reaction a few chapters later when Vash accidentally releases just a tiny bit of his power to stop a bullet?

My thought is this is the conversation Vash and Meryl didn't have coming back to bite them both in the ass.

Meryl hasn't had a lot of time to process these memories, and as best we can tell, she hasn't talked about them to anyone. Wolfwood kind of gives her an opportunity, but instead the two of them get caught up in denying they know as much as they know. If they'd instead had a conversation about Vash, it might have helped Meryl find a place for some of this.

But the person she really needed to have that conversation with is Vash.

While Meryl's flashback is of the events of the Dragon's Nest, from what we saw at the end of the Dragon's Nest arc and in the Gunslinger chapter, Meryl isn't that afraid of Vash and his power. The one who truly fears Vash's power is Vash himself.

Despite Vash having only recently regained his memories of July, he's still intimately aware that he has immense raw destructive power. But it's been over two years since he blew a hole in the moon, and even before that he had literal decades to build up the determination that (usually) keeps him moving forward when the horrors are too great. Meryl has had... what, a week? A month? A few days? Not nearly enough time.

If she and Vash had spent some time talking over what they both learned about him in the Dragon's Nest, it might at least help Meryl recognize what parts of it are her and what parts of it are him. Even if it didn't, it might have helped Vash contextualize her panic in this scene and find a better way to respond, or helped her to dig up the words for it before the boys ran off, since she would have spoken them them already in a more controlled setting.

But that didn't happen. So instead, we get to see all of Vash's fear and panic over what might happen if he loses control manifest in Meryl. And it manifests as screaming, trembling, and tears seemingly without end.

Thank God for Milly, or it might have resulted in her feeling the same kind of loneliness and isolation Vash feels, as well.

[eventheodds]

[ RELIEF ]:     having lost sight of the receiver in an intense moment of danger, the sender spots them in the distance, and rushes to them, embracing them and resting their foreheads together out of sheer relief.

meme lost to the aether…

The smell of blood is strong.

In the chaos between patrols scouring every alley and every street now that Vash had been spotted in JuLai, Meryl hadn’t been able to escape unscathed. She’d been knocked to the ground as others were running in the opposite direction of where she needed to go, her face smashing onto the ground with an impact that definitely must’ve broken something, and the taste of copper on her tongue.

She’d since wiped it away with the sleeve of her jacket, a red blaring smear on the cream-coloured material. While focused on trying to navigate through the throngs of people running in whichever direction—so long as they got away from the gunshots—she could see that smear from the corner of her eye every time she got closer and closer to where she was going.

Her lungs ached and her nose hurt, and her cheeks felt as though they’d been scrapped across rough concrete, but pain was not something she was registering at this very moment.

Right now she needed to find Vash.

If anything, the patrols were helping her with their coordination seeing as they had more people to cover the area—and she could easily slip through, mostly unseen.

The staccato of gunshots make her stop, along with a raucous sound of cheers—both make her heart drop to her stomach as she has the briefest realization she may have been too late. A few loud curses tell her it’s a false alarm, that they still need to keep looking and Meryl resumes her own trek through the busy streets of this bustling city.

It’s hard to discern a noticeable red coat in the throes of all that’s going on, but she hears the cadence of Vash’s voice up ahead, along with the end of his coat as he rounds a corner. Something muttered about not having enough bullets and Meryl runs towards him, full pelt, until she crashes into him.

Somehow, though she’s not surprised to realize this, Vash knew it was her and turns around at the last possible second, embracing her in his arms and keeping his gun away from her. She can feel, even from his efforts, the barrel against her side and the heat radiating off it that’s seeping in through her jacket and shirt. He’d recently fired, this much she knows, but there’d been nothing about fallen bodies or even wounds from the patrol that were out hunting for him.

“Meryl—what happened?!”

She realizes he’s holding her at arm’s length, a look of both devastation and concern on his face as he takes in her own and sees the blood splattered across her cheeks and around her nostrils. It’s mostly dried—this much she can tell—because she can feel how it tugs at her skin.

“Guess I didn’t get so lucky when I tried to track you down,” she says, her voice a little watery as her eyes begin to blur with unshed tears. His own expression changes in an instant, from some kind of unbriddled anger to despair to wanting to cry, or she thinks it does, but that soon fades as she instinctively closes her eyes and lets him pull her towards him to rest their foreheads together.

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…”

It hits her how tired she is, how there’s more than just aches and pains in her face but her entire body as well. When she was knocked down, she’d felt the occasional foot kick her as people were trying to disperse and find shelter.

JuLai patrol, or some within their ranks, have become rather trigger happy as of late, though she doesn’t think anyone else was hurt. Thank God for that, she thinks as she keeps her eyes closed.

“I’m okay,” she says, her voice muffled in the way it would sound as if she had a really bad cold. “I promise I’m okay.”

It’s not enough—she can clearly see that—and he’s going to beat himself up about this, add it to the numerous weights he already carries on his shoulders.

As of right now, Meryl doesn’t have anything else she can say that could put his mind at ease.

[dr4k3n0]

'Protector'

A/n: This is an older one I forgot to publish-

Synopsis: You hid your wounds from Vash and he finds out and takes care of you.

Tw: Blood? (Not Much)

Word Count: 1.3k

It's been a long day.. the day had so many things that had gone wrong, more than gone right. First of all, you were all ambushed by angry civilians of a town who rained gunfire upon you all. A few bullets had grazed your side along with your arm. You had to somehow find a way to cover up the blood knowing that your boyfriend specifically, wouldn't react well towards that.. Then, you had to sit in a hot, smokey, car squished against the window, and Vash.

Not that you were upset that you were squished between Vash, you just had little room and your waist where you got hit, ached. Vash had fallen asleep on your shoulder while you looked out the window. You tried to prop your arm up on the windowsill to be more comfortable, but winced at the pain that erupted through your injured arm from being shot. 

Ending up deciding to lay your head against the glass, you close your eyes, having enough of the day and just wanting to sleep. But sleep never came to you. That made you a little more irritated as you waited to be able to get out of the car for once. Eventually, Meryl spotted a small town to stop for the night and prayed that they were friendly.

When you all pulled up to a small hotel, you opened the door quickly before stepping out and stretching. Your movent soon woke Vash as he slowly opened his eyes groggily and soon followed suit after you. Walking into the small hotel, you stood behind Meryl as she quickly got a few rooms for you all, and gave you each the keys.

"Let's meet down here a little later so that we can eat," Meryl said cheerfully.

Nodding at her, you head up the stairs with the others following close behind you. 

Walking through the plain hallway, you went to the door that matched your key with Vash beside you. Quickly unlocking the door, you opened it before allowing Vash to go first with a small smile before walking in yourself and closing the door. You sighed looking around the small room. It had the necessities you needed and it was better than the previous one you all stayed at.

You walked over towards Vash and pressed your head against his back and hugged him tightly. He smiled a bit before turning around to you so that he could hug you back. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he heard a small sound of pain come from you as you tensed up.

"Y/n?" He said worriedly.

"Are you alright?" The blonde said as he furrowed his brows in concern.

Sighing, you looked at him guilty, and knew it was already too late to lie about it.

"No.." you whispered avoiding eye contact with him.

He hugged you tightly in a way to comfort you and made sure to avoid the spot that made you wince in pain, before pulling away. He sat you down on the bed holding your hand gently and looked at you concerned.

"Baby, is there something you're not telling me..?" He said hesitantly.

Your eyes widened slightly before nodding slowly. Feeling his eyes on you, you roll up your sleeve to show him the badly bandaged wound. His eyes widened as he saw the bandage. As he was going to say something, he stopped as you slowly lifted up your shirt to reveal your other injury.

"I know you're probably upset, but I didn't want to make a big deal of it, it's just a scratch.." You explained knowing you would get an ear full about it later. 

You heard him make a small noise, before hugging you tightly. Surprised, about his sudden actions, you slowly lowered your arms around his figure.

"why didn't you tell me.." You heard him mumble.

"I'm sorry.." You whispered into the fabric of his jacket. He pulled away slightly before kissing your forehead gently and stood up to grab some supplies to clean your wounds. You watched as he rummaged around in the cabinets looking for some towels and a bowl. He eventually found them and filled the bowl with warm, soapy water before placing the towel in it.

Walking back to you, he kneeled down, before looking at you for permission to lift up your shirt. With a small nod, you gave him permission and he slowly lifted it and began to unwrap the old bandages. 

When he finally got it unwrapped from around you, he winced at the cut before looking at you worriedly.

"This may sting.." He said quietly.

"Its alright, might as well just get this over with," You replied.

He nodded before taking the towel from the water, wringing it out, and gently dabbing at the irritated skin. You winced a bit and he took his hand away from the cut before saying a quiet apology. He continued to clean it gently until all the excess blood was gone and it was ready to be wrapped in bandages. Before beginning to wrap up the bandages, he kissed your side near the cut, before beginning. You smiled a bit at his cuteness and watched as he delicately wrapped the bandage around your waist. 

He smiled at his patch job before kissing your side again, and then moving to the one on your arm. You could tell he was really concentrated on bandaging you up and stayed silent and still for him as he worked his magic. Eventually, he finished your arm doing the same process as he did with your waist, and soon settled beside you on the bed. You both sat in silence for a while while he contemplated what to say.

He eventually broke the silence by saying, "I love you.." His words were soft and gentle as you saw him grin at you but you could tell he was hurt.

You looked at him sadly, before gently kissing his cheek and leaning into him.

"I love you too.." You said as your voice cracked a bit.

"Vash.. I'm sorry I didn't tell you.. I didn't want to worry you but I know it was wrong of me to do that.. and I'm sorry.. please forgive me.." You said quietly. 

You felt him delicately wrap his arm around your waist, before he kissed the top of your head gently.

"It's alright, I'm glad decided to tell me instead of prolonging a lie.." He said smiling at you gently.

Nuzzling into his side, you both sat there happily in each other's presence. You let out a small yawn and closed your eyes and lean into Vash more. He squeezes you tightly, before gently laying down with you in his arms. You soon fall asleep feeling warm and safe in the blonde's grasp. Vash looked down at you admiringly, you looked so peaceful when you sleep. His heart warmed at the thought of you and he held you tightly against him.

"I'll protect you.. now and forever," He said quietly before falling asleep himself.

Extra:

"Oi! Needle Noggin, Y/n! Where are you guys? We're going to get food!" Wolfwood yelled through the door.

He sighed before walking off. "They're probably being all lovey-dovey." He said fake gagging.

"They're not coming let's just go without them," he said to the group.

The others nodded before heading out.

[danddymaro]

Addiction | Old Snake x Reader

An Ending to MGS4 that ends in happiness for our good boi Snake

Fixed/Edited

BTW: Let’s shift the events around and pretend he went to go talk to Big Boss Before Meryl's wedding.

Thoughts are italics in quotations = 'Example'

Flashbacks are in italics = Example

Word Count:  2225

Addiction

From betwixt the snug place of his lips, the smoke in which he took pleasure from was snatched, aggressively pulled out in a single motion,

"Snake," A familiar male's voice said in a harsh whisper, sounding frustrated and disappointed all together, "Just what in the world do you think you're doing!?" Otocon added with the same tone of exasperation.

Silently, Snake's blue eyes drifted right to see the bespeckled brunette male giving him a half-hearted glare, his entire expression full of annoyance as he glared onto the man that seemed many years older than what he truly was.

"You know you shouldn't be smoking," Hal said while shaking his head in the same disapproval, making sure to exaggerate a low dragged out sigh, "Honestly...Snake, you'd think that at least today you'd make an exception." He added.

'Today...' David started, 'Today is a special day... for not just me, but for her too,' He thought while grunting, knowing just what the other man meant, feeling guilt weigh down over his shoulders as he recognized his selfishness.

With a dull gaze as a response, Snake returned the look back to his long-time friend, 'I know this already...don't think I don't,' He silently told the man while pressing his lips together tightly.

Tearing his eyes from the hardened dark chocolate orbs, David then trailed his oculars down to the discarded nicotine as it now lay on the floor, a small, thin line of smoke still rising from its end, a gentle flicker of a red spark still visible as well.

He could pick it back up. After all, it was salvageable, but even so, his reaction remained prolonged.

He stared at it for a few moments before he closed his eyes to rid himself of the tempting image.

"You will end up smelling like burnt ash and tobacco. I don't think she'd like that," Otacon continued to speak, convincing him to make the right choice.

Dropping his shoulders, Snake nodded in defeated agreeance, knowing it to be true.

After a few silent minutes passed, he then gave a frustrated sigh and stepped on it, crushing it under his shoe and making sure it was put out by the stomp.

"yeah yeah," David grumbled, because he was well aware of the fact and had already mentally kicked himself for it.

"I know you're nervous," Hal then said with a soft, understanding smile rising, "it's understandable," he said while placing his hand on his friend's shoulder, "But you should do it for her. " He added, truthfully, also being concerned for Snake's health.

"Now come on, " Emmerich said with brightened brown orbs, "It's about to begin," he reminded the other male, his index finger tapping the little face on his watch as an exited grin overtook him.

Having spent almost his entire life in battle, it wasn't like he could fit into the normal world with ease. He couldn't just chuck himself into an easy everyday life as simple as that, no matter what anyone tried to tell him.

He'd been told to live his life, to enjoy what bits he had left and to salvage it the best he could, but he hadn't the least bit of an idea as to how to do so,

'how? ' He wondered helplessly, uncertain as to just how he could go on so simply.

What could a man that's known nothing but battle do in the normal world?

He couldn't go back to his family as other soldiers would often do, because he had none. He had no mother, father, brothers, or sisters, to fall back to. 

Heck, he didn't even have a damn dog to go back to and run toward at the end of the day.

All in all, he had nothing. So, he couldn't just join into the masses of civilians and blend in, because it just hadn't been in his plans.

He'd never thought that far along, and for a long time, he'd thought there was nothing there for him.

But of course, life had its crazy, little surprises, especially one he'd never anticipated... 

"Marry me!" She said out loud, her voice rising with plea, the sudden proposal stopping his movements entirely. 

His steps came to a complete halt, and the foot that had almost touched the ground stayed suspended for a moment, hovering over the placement by just a centimeter.

He then took two slow breaths before he placed it down to the Earth, turning to the woman with confusion, his brows knotted together to show a visibly painted look of dumbfoundedness,

"wh..what?" He breathed, almost inaudibly as he tried to comprehend what he'd heard.

 He was certain that it was just his old age playing with him.

 He just knew it was the only explanation as to why he heard her say the words because it was just unfathomable to him,

'I must be hearing things,' He thought to himself, deflated at the sudden realization that dawned upon him.

Dementia; he probably had dementia.

He'd thought he had just a bit more time before then, but it seemed that he wasn't lucky enough, and surely the old age he presented himself with had finally fully beaten him,

"What...what did you say?" He asked slowly, staring at her with furrowed brows.

She took a step forward, inching herself closer to him with anxiousness, seeming uncertain on coming near,

"Did...did you not hear me?" She squeaked, face turning beet red, seeming mortified at the fact that she had to once again repeat herself.

" Perhaps... but I could have been mistaken." He grumbled, watching her continue to move closer to him.

Slowly, and tentatively she stepped forward, soon standing three feet from him, staring up at him with a harsh swallow, a small lump gliding down her throat before she spoke yet again,

"I...I...I said ...I ... I said ... will you marry me..." she repeated with strain, sounding much smaller the second time around, losing all the sense of confidence she'd previously fueled herself with.

"Marry you..?" He repeated, still at a loss.

At her side, he noticed she held the white bouquet full of flowers tightly bound within her hold, and it was the same bunch that Meryl had thrown up in the air not a few moments ago.

When she realized just what he had been staring at, she held it up with a rather quirky smile, " I think this kind of means I'm next, and I don't see anyone better around," she said while raising both her brows to dance up and down until he turned away from her, not in the mood for the show of playfulness,

"Huh?!

- What! Please don't go!" she cried out, rushing after him, soon managing to stand before him, her arms widespread to stop him from moving past her,

"I'm being serious!" She declared, looking up at him with frantic (e/c) colored eyes, "You have to believe me!" she added, continuing on with her story.

She reminded him of the fact that they'd met before. It had been a while back, an event that had embedded itself deep within her heart, even if he'd forgotten,

"Because..." She started, " Because I've thought of you every day after that," she confessed. "And then I spoke to Hal, and he brought me here, he told me that now...Now was my chance to tell you. " She confessed to him.

She'd waited years, pinning for the man through each and every one of them, waiting for the day she'd one day stand before him again.

And it all began to make sense by then, why Otocon seemed so insistent on him joining the ceremony, despite his own refusal to show because he'd had other plans in mind, all of which didn't include infecting everyone with his miserable air.

"I'm not exactly meant for romanticism, " he told her. " And even if I were..." He trailed off, keeping his eyes drawn away from her, his words dying out as he let her fill in the blanks.

Even if he had been willing to take the risk, to suddenly go off and get hitched to some strange woman he just vaguely remembered,

his life was draining, and all in all, he had nothing to offer her.

"You're better off with someone else... " he said lowly, " someone who has the time," he added with the same dejection, moving to leave her behind before she stopped him again,

"Wait," She said with a stilled breath.

Her two hands both grasped his, stopping him and effectively holding him back. The soft, warm palms of her two hands enveloped his own hand which was much rougher and less dainty, " Let's at least try?" she said with hope,

"I already know," She told him, " I've already known about your condition...but still..." She went on, daring to step closer, " Still... Even then, it doesn't change the way I feel, and, in fact, It just fuels me to want to be with you even more, " She admitted.

"It's sudden, I understand, but at the very least, give me the opportunity to come closer to you." She tried to compromise,

"If you begin to feel the same way I do...then... then we can make something of it. " She told him, slowly convincing him with the lovely stare of her pleading, (e/c) colored eyes.

He reflects back to her proposal far more than he cares to mention because it had been the moment his life took a complete turn, going from muted grey and black to cheerful, colorful vibrancy in every step that she accompanied him in.

And it all lead him to where he was now, standing before her, dressed properly and prim, left awestruck at her beauty, moreso than he typically was, reminding him that perhaps his luck wasn't so bad if it had somehow aligned their lives together.

she held his hand in hers as she slid the silver band onto his finger, the smile she wore on her red painted lips never faltering, not once losing its lovely show of fulfilled happiness, because she couldn't be any more joy-filled, something everyone commented on.

- There wasn't a happier bride in the planet.

Her cheek was then pressed to his chest, her nose scrunching up as she let out a soft sigh, not sounding angry, but he knew she wasn't all too pleased either,

"You were smoking..." she said softly, closing her eyes slowly as she let her body be led by his slow movements.

He wasn't a dancer, and she wasn't either, but nonetheless, they rocked together, bodies pressed close as their friends watched the couple's first dance together.

"I can smell it on you," she added with a small sound of exhaled air produced from her nostrils.

She hated loving the scent, the smell of smoke making her think just of him and nothing more.

"I was nervous," he said in defense, his response making her giggle softly,

"Don't tell me you want out already?" she asked him, drawing back slightly to look up at him, saying it in a joking manner, but even then he could hear the uncertainty in her voice. 

"Because I think it's a little too late for that," She reminded him.

"...Do you?" he asked her back, and he watched her shake her head in denial,

"Of course not silly," She said earnestly.

And he loved what followed, what always came after she looked up at him,

"I never would," She breathed, her gleaming eyes soon straying down to her wedding band, lovingly eyeing the silver piece, " David, I loved you then..." she started sweetly, her gloved hands sliding up from his chest to his cheeks, " and I love you now..." she reminded him, rising up on her already heeled feet.

His paled blue eyes closed, his mouth melted onto hers before she brought him the tender heat of their plumped goodness.

His two hands then fell over her hips but didn't stop to land on them, instead, they slid around her, his arms taking complete hold of her during their loving connection in an embrace that spoke more than words ever could.

"I'll love you always," she managed to murmur between their mashed mouths.

A squeal of enjoyment left her as he squeezed her tightly within his arms, loving all the attention he fed her.

She lived for it; Blossoming beneath his rays of affection.

"David..." she said again, drawing back, her eyes brightened with a type of light he knew existed only when he stared at her, because the woman adored him, something he'd always found to be unbelievable, yet a bliss.

He'd gone days without the death stick, days which later turned into months, and finally years.

He'd gone the rest of his breathing days without so much a thinking of them, but not a single one of those passing dates did he resist her, always caving in to her, even in their darkest days.

By then he'd found out that there was something far more addicting than nicotine, and it was the sweet flavor of her lovely lips, the warmth of their tender press, and much more the dedication behind each one that she let graze him.

All in all, she became his one fixation, the one thing he couldn't ever dream of living without.

[buckstaposition]

I cling to your lips like gloss (2)

a Javier Peña x OFC story

also on AO3

author: @youhavereachedtheendofpie (in case u wanna come say hello on main but no pressure)

rating/warnings: swearing, mentions of character death, some mentions of sexual situations but nothing explicit, spoilers for season 2 (should probably have tagged ch1 for this too oops)

words: 6607, no regrets

summary: it’s not a date if it’s for work

Author’s note: There is so much research that went into this I would just like to say thank you internet for letting me look up stuff from the comfort of my own home at unholy hours even though I did get very distracted while looking up late 80s wedding dress fashion. Also bless the s2 dvd extra which was a director’s commentary on s2 ep10 and very informative.

—

Tag list: @keeper0fthestars @opheliaelysia @dindjarindiaries @fromthedeskoftheraven @shikin83 

(message me if you want to be added to the list. or just message me in general)

and also I urge you to look at the beautiful moodboard that @huliabitch made for me! I love it so much!

Masterlist

Prologue

Chapter 1 - The Informant

Chapter 2 - A Wedding and Four Funerals

"All the best from Mr DEA." Diana said as she threw herself down in the seat across from her best friend. Gabriela looked effortlessly glamourous as usual, even though she was just in a blouse and jeans. She just had that air about her, like one of the vintage movie stars, something Diana had never quite been able to match. She was well aware she was downright frumpy in comparison, not one to catch eyes just by walking past. For the most part, that suited her. Gabi tried to seem nonchalant about the greeting.

"Oh?" She sipped gingerly from her drink and put her menu away. "You finally met, then? He's back?"

Diana nodded and stowed away her purse and cardigan. "Yeah, this afternoon and yesterday, in the morning. He seems... nice enough? I don't know. Not a talker, is he? He seems a bit on edge, to be honest. Though I suppose that's to be expected." But despite everything, he still has kindness in his eyes.

Gabi just grinned at her for a long moment, waiting to pounce.

"Yeah, he can be a bit of a grump. ...Handsome though, no?"

Diana sighed, swatting at the other woman with her own menu. "Did it ever occur to you that the newly divorced woman might have had her fill of men for the time being?"

"It has occcurred to me that five years of unchanging, uninspired missionary for half an hour exactly, twice a week, with that wet blanket you married might have left you with the need to really be filled by a man for once."

"Gabriela!" she gasped, choking on thin air and mortification, even though their conversations would often get way more explicit than this. Just never with her being the subject. Gabriela just smiles like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth, hailing a waiter to give him their order.

"Speaking of newly divorced: has the dipshit finally signed the papers then?" Diana groaned, throwing her glasses down onto the table to massage her temples.

"No, he's dragging his feet. Which is ridiculous, it's not like I want anything from him. It's not like we're fighting tooth and nail over every other thing, like that American movie, the one we watched on your mom's old VHS player, you know? With Meryl Streep? In any case, now he decides to fight? If you can call that fighting."

"Kramer vs Kramer." Gabi remarked sagely. "Yeah... At least you don't have children together. That could really have gone ugly. I still don't know what you ever saw in that man."

"Oh shut it. I used to be fond of Juan Mateo; I don't know when that changed." Diana huffed, quickly snatching up her glasses when the waiter sailed over with their drinks and appetizer.

"Well that's the problem, you never loved him! And your parents set too good an example; what could ever live up to that?" She took a generous drag from her drink, then dug into the food with hungry abandon. "At least you're finally rid of his snoring. And his mother."

"God, she really hated me. Couldn't bear it that her precious boy brought some lowly scum from the comunas into her pristine middle class home. Marrying me might have just been the only demonstration of free will that man has ever managed." Diana allowed herself to seethe a bit at the memory, taking it out on her food as she stabbed at it roughly. "And I will definitely not miss the snoring."

"Mr DEA barely snores." Gabriela remarked lightly. "Just ...very softly. It's quite cute."

"Since when do you let clients stay to actually sleep?" Diana inquired around a mouthful, brows scrunched. Gabriela hummed thoughtfully, swiping some sauce off her plate with a piece of bread.

"Ah, but he was so tired, poor thing. It wouldn't have been safe to send him back out, he would have crashed his car and died in a ditch somewhere, which would have been a real shame. I just let him nap for an hour or so that one time. Besides, I wasn't in any state to do much myself after he blew my back out." She had a way of being so nonchalant about these things that Diana supposed came from a sort of professional equanimity. Diana possessed no such poise and gawked openly, the wheels turning in her head as she recalled previous conversations and connected dots.

"Oh." She breathed as realization hit. "Oh! No! That was him? You're kidding me. How am supposed to look him in the eye now?" Gabi was already cackling, barely able to hold her laughter as Diana sputtered, recalling the very detailed recounting she'd received after the night in question. "You said you felt that for days after!"

"I did, but it was worth it." Gabi was now subtly holding her sides, having pushed her empty plate away to be collected. "You see, you're my dearest and oldest friend and I only want the best for you."

"I'm sure Mr DEA would be delighted to know of your crude attempts to pimp him out." Diana snarked, pushing her own plate to the side just in time to be whisked away by the waiter. "You're incorrigible. This is serious. Besides, I think he really liked you, actually."

"He liked the illusion of intimacy, like most of my clients. Lonely but with committment issues to the moon and back. It's not like I'm telling you to marry him. I'm just trying to get you properly laid for once." Gabriela scoffed. She could be so detached sometimes. In fact, one could call it downright cynical. But Diana had known her since they were both in pigtails and could detect the care behind even the most jaded words.

"Oh whatever. I request a change of topic. How's your book coming along? Any progress on that chapter that's been giving you so much trouble?" Diana asked sweetly, making the other woman glare at her over the plates with their main courses as they were being set down. Because yes, Gabriela does indeed write more than letters, and she's good, too. Also, two can play this game of being just slightly mean.

--- --- ---

Javier hated team meetings. And now that he was the boss here he couldn't even get out of them. Worse, he had to lead them. He looked over the assembled agents, glad that he had most of their names down by now. Gladder still that this was a DEA-only event and he wouldn't have to deal with any of Stechner's CIA asswads for now.

"Duffy, where are we on the shipments?" He turned to the other man expectantly. Duffy was one of the few agents here that weren't younger than him; he actually had some experience under his belt, unlike all these fucking greenhorns the higher-ups had sent him. He forced himself to pay attention to Agent Duffy's answer, making notes of important dates as he listened. Operation Cornerstone had, at this point, not yet come to full fruition, but if they continued to put in their due dilligence it was almost certain to turn up something useful. When they'd gone through all the points on his agenda, and after clearing up a few uncertainties, he dismissed the roomful of agents.

"Duffy, got another moment?" Javier stopped the other agent as he turned to leave the conference room.

"Sir?" Duffy sat back down and pulled his writing pad back out.

"Have you come up with any ideas for my informant in Calí?" Javier had mentioned this before, seeing as Duffy was one of the agents permanently stationed at the Calí field office. Now that Escobar was gone it would look suspicious if the head of the DEA in the country trekked up to Medellín every other week, and they needed a better way for Miss Rivas to hand over her collected intel. Duffy cleared his throat and caught the eye of one of his colleagues and waved him over.

"Lopez here has had a few ideas, sir. Tony, tell the boss your ideas for drop-offs."

The other agent was younger, handsome in that pretty way that made girls sigh dreamily, going by his own, admittedly remote, memory of high school and college. Lopez hadn't said much during the meeting, but had that eager glint in his eyes that said he wanted to prove himself. Javier had had that same look when he first came down here; it hadn't survived the first year.

"Let's hear it."

"Okay, so I was thinking the public library might be worth a shot." Agent Lopez pulled a notepad from his own case, squinting down at the scrawled chickenscratch. Javier nodded along, encouraging more than praise. He'd have to run these ideas by Miss Rivas anyway, and if she had concerns they were back at square one. But that was a river he intended to cross when the time came and not a second earlier.

--- --- ---

The satphone was also a good instinct because after their preliminary meetings in April, it gets irritatingly difficult to arrange another one for over a month.

"The what now?"

"The 4th International Poetry Festival. It's on from June 2nd to 8th." she explained patiently. "Orietta Lozano, Gloria Gervitz, Blanca Varela!"

"I assume those are poets."

"Obviously."

"You want me to go to a poetry festival with you?"

"No, I'm taking the week off and I'm going to the festival, and I am also free to meet you. I'm just suggesting that maybe your work hours don't all have to be spent in dreariness and drudgery." Something sizzled on the other end of the line where she was making herself dinner while talking to him, and it made Javier's stomach grumble. "A bit of culture is good for the soul, Agent Peña. You'll burn yourself out with how much you work. When was the last time you ever did anything for fun? Read a book? Hell, listened to music?"

Whenever you call me. She always had music on at home. It drifted through the receiver, a soothing background hum that was too soft to truly make out most times. Add to that the fact that he was still sitting in his office at almost half past seven in the evening, and he didn't have a proper counter-argument.

"Alright, fine. 2nd to 8th, I'll see what I can do."

--- --- ---

She was wearing another belted shirt dress, this one pale yellow and sleeveless, the full skirt reaching to just below the knees. It reminded Javier of the style his mother used to wear when he was little. Saturday, June 4th, had him meet up with Miss Rivas at the Teatro Metropolitano in central Medellín. Her dress contrasted against the blocky red building in a way that tugged familiar, but Javier was trying to train himself to not see blood in every instance of red.

"This is quite a way from Envigado." He announced his approach as soon as he was close enough to not have to shout. She jumped a bit, clearly startled, but her lips pulled into a polite smile when she recognized him.

"Agent Peña." She greeted. "No, cultural grandeur doesn't usually make it out to the comunas." She sat back down on the bench and pulled a flyer from her (rather big) purse, thumbing it pensively. Javier sat beside her, not quite at arms' length. Trying to appear wordlessly inviting, if only to mask how at a loss for words she made him feel. He seemed to be no longer used to normal, civil human interaction.

"Right, there is one reading here at the Metropol that starts in about half an hour that I think you might like. It has a few of the international poets; a few of them will be reading in English. Then there's another one later at the Teatro Carlos Vieco that I'm keen on. It's about half an hour on foot between locations, but there's the open air exhibits that only require a small detour." She pointed it all out on the program as she spoke, Javier silently nodding along in acknowledgement. "I've planned it so there's more than enough time for a lunch break. I hate having to rush through things that are meant to be enjoyed. I brought arepas, but there are usually enough street vendors out and about to get something else, if you prefer." She really did talk a lot. That was surprisingly fine by Javier, since it meant he didn't have to. "Though of course if you'd rather just get your intel and go I understand, but I must insist on at least this first reading, Agent Peña. But otherwise I wouldn't want to impose. I'm sure you have other things to do."

His lips twitched involuntarily and he held his hand out for the program flyer, silently reading it over. None of the names rung any kind of bell. Not that he was much of a poetry aficionado. "Sounds good to me."

She blinked. "Which part?"

He handed her back the flyer, which she took automatically, still eyeing him with uncertainty.

"All of it." She blinked again, looking mildly shocked, the flyer still dangling uselessly from her fingers. "Miss Rivas, I came all the way here and you went through all this trouble planning. It would be a waste to part ways after so short a time."

Truth be told it sounded ...nice. The thought of spending a day just exploring, letting work be work for even just a day (or at least part of it). Despite being an only child, he'd never liked being on his own even when he was young, cherishing every day spent with school friends or any of his numerous cousins. And it wasn't like he'd had to do far less pleasant things for information.

Her expression morphed from uncertain gaping into a wide, pleased smile that he couldn't help but mirror. Maybe she was quite a nice lady after all.

---

"...I have to ask though: What's a ...smit- ...smee-dereen?"

"Smithereens." Javier corrected gently as they exited the venue after the reading. "It means... it's all the small pieces that are left over when something is destroyed. Like with a bomb."

"Hmm," she hummed, pensive as they strolled along with the leisurely flow of the crowd, "I'll have to think a bit more about this." She fished around in her purse, producing bottled water and offering him one. He took it gratefully, unscrewing the cap and taking a sip. "How did you like it, Agent Peña? Already regretting agreeing to this?"

"No." Javier found himself replying perhaps a smidgeon too quickly. "No, it's very uh... enriching." And not what he'd expected at all. Though the festival was now in its fourth year running, he'd never had the chance or the wish, really, to attend it before. He'd barely taken note of its existence, too preoccupied with chasing down leads.

"Hm, you don't have to mollify me, Agent Peña. You'll still get your intel, don't worry." Her expression slipped, from an almost serene smile back into that underlying heaviness that he could identify only now that it had been lifted for a short while.

"Miss Rivas," he said earnestly, "I wouldn't lie to you. I'm just not that good with words. That's why I'm a government agent and not a poet."

That at least made her chuckle a bit. And it was true, too. He felt lighter, in a way, like his mind had been craving a break from the frustrating work of trying to find an in to take down the cartel. Even his shoulders felt less tense here. And it was a beautiful day, too. Warm but not too hot, sunny with a mild breeze. People were out and about around them, festival goers and other citizens alike, mingling freely with a carelessness that would have been unthinkable only a year prior.

"Juan Mateo never wanted to come with me to this." She gestured vaguely at the city and its people around them. "My husband. Ex-husband. Technically still husband because he won't sign the divorce papers." Her features turned tense as she explained, a slight frown appearing between her brows. "Not that it matters now, of course. But goodness, that man had no sense for these things. He thought top shelf coffee was the height of culture. He'd act like going out to a bar one evening every few weeks was a chore beyond compare. Such a martyr!" She huffed and Javier laughed softly, offering to take her bag for a while as she adjusted it on her shoulder for the third time now.

"No, that's alright. It's not heavy. This way." Her hand naturally slipped into the crook of his elbow to steer him down the side of the road and Javier faltered for a moment, cursing himself for wearing a short-sleeved shirt even though it was comfortably warm. He just didn't want to get separated in the bustle of activity, he reasoned. This was a perfectly tame and non-offensive gesture and it would be rude to flinch away, he reasoned. She initiated it, after all. No harm no foul. This was still a professional alliance.

"You think very loudly, Agent Peña." She remarked, lightly squeezing his elbow. "It better not be about work."

"Technically I am at work right now." He countered, covering her hand on his arm with his much larger one and giving it an awkward pat.

"Lucky you." She teased, lightly nudging his side with her elbow.

"Beats paperwork, that's for sure."

They ambled along, weaving through the crowds where they gathered in front of street performers and makeshift stages. Javier couldn't deny that it felt good to feel the sun on his skin, un-recycled air in his lungs; most of all being far away from Stechner and his legion of CIA goons was almost rejuvenating. They fell into a languid rhythm, walking leisurely and stopping every so often to linger a bit where music was being played or more poetry recited, in front of the stalls of local artisans or to look at the sculptures that had been put up as an open air exhibit throughout the city. Every so often, Miss Rivas would tell him some little anecdote, be it about any of the previous festivals or just the city itself. He barely felt the time pass.

By the time they'd made it across the river and to the park wherein the open-air theatre was situated, it was time for a late lunch and Javier felt his stomach start to protest, all that walking serving to work up an appetite.

"...and after school Gabi and I would trek across town to the library and hide by the shelves in the back, the ones with the old classics, and we'd read all the scandalous 19th-century novels about adulteresses and other fallen women. You know, Anna Karenina, Thérèse Raquin, Madame Bovary, Tess of the d'Urbervilles..." Miss Rivas set her bag down and produced a fairly big plastic container from within, setting it on the bench between them. "Perhaps not the most appropriate fare for a couple of fifteen-year-old girls, but it wasn't like we had a whole lot of supervision, you know? It definitely wasn't appropriate to read to a five-year-old, so I guess it's good that Maritza never really paid attention much- Stop my prattling any time, Agent Peña. I know I talk too much; Juan Mateo always used to say so."

Javier paused, an abundantly filled arepa inches from his mouth. "He what now?"

She flushed, looking down and picking at the wrapping paper she'd bundled the food up in. "It's fine, it's not a big deal, really."

"It's not fine." Javier insisted. Told her to shut up, told his own wife that she talked to much! What an ass. He started tearing into the arepa with a glower. They sat in silence for a while, chewing tensely in this little corner of the park at the foot of Cerro Nutibara, in a spot that was fairly hidden among the greenery while still affording a decent view of the city streets below. Javier didn't even know why it irked him so much. There were worse things out there than insensitive husbands. Ex-husbands at that. Still, he seethed quietly in his righteous wrath.

"Wanna see something funny?" She was already digging through her purse, so he didn't see much sense in replying. She pulled a photo from some deep compartment in her wallet, looking down at it thoughtfully for a moment before passing it to him. In his defence, Javier hadn't meant to laugh. It just came out, snorty and half-aborted.

"Hey, at least I managed to evade the poofy sleeves, okay? My mother was dead set on them. She wanted me to look like the English lady… uh, Princess Diana. I think she might have taken the name as a sign."

"That's a.. that's a lot of satin."  And tulle. Javier pressed out, still suppressing his laughter and barely succeeding. He could have pointed out that the mass of ruffles negated any absence of actual puff sleeves, but thought it better to refrain. And it wasn't like she hadn't looked beautiful as a bride, it was more that in that ruffled satin-and-tulle concoction she looked like an unwilling dress-up doll, despite the tasteful off-the-shoulder cut and flattering waistline. It was just... there were a lot of ruffles. There was a lot of dress, period. Paired with an expression that was better suited to a funeral, the effect was almost morbidly comedic.

"Wait till I show you the cake; we were basically identical." It was the dryness of her tone that set him off. There was no suppressing it now, Javier was bellowing, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. It didn't help that the dress fashion hadn't really strayed very far from the 'bigger and more style' in the years since. All things considered, this was a comparatively simple gown, lacking the mass of sparkly appliqués and abundance of bows and flowers that had been popular in the latter years of the previous decade. It just wasn't a style that suited her personality in any way, at all. Her slender figure was absolutely drowned in the sheer volume of the skirt alone. Hell, it completely overshadowed the already forgettable man standing by her side in the photo. Though 'by her side' was a generous descriptor. There was definitely enough space for the Holy Spirit and then some between the couple.

"My mother spent ages on that damn dress. Her hands looked like pincushions by the time she was done; that's why she wore gloves to the wedding."

"She's a seamstress, right? Your mother?" She'd mentioned it in an offhand comment during one of their previous phone calls.

"She was." Diana confirmed, tucking the picture away again. "Didn't think you'd remember that."

"Of course. I listen to everything you tell me."

Diana chuckled, flushing lightly. "It's not even relevant to the case!"

"I listen to everything you tell me." Javier insisted and started gathering up wrapping paper and such to throw away. A quick look at his watch told him they'd have to get moving soon if they wanted to make it to the theatre on time to get decent seats.

"Right." Diana collected her things to stuff them back into her bag. "So it's a no for ruffles, but what would you have me wear, Agent Peña? What do you think suits me?"

Javier couldn't have told even the most skilled interrogation expert what exactly compelled him to answer, and so readily at that, why he had an opinion at the ready in the first place, or at least that's what he preferred to tell himself.

"I think... something soft and flowy, not a whole lot of embellishments, if any. Clear lines and a light fabric, something you can dance in and be comfortable. Definitely no more satin."

She laughed now, as well, eyes twinkling with what he thought was approval. "You are full of surprises. Should I ever get married again, I'll most certainly engage your services as designer, Agent Peña."

"I'll keep a spot open for you. First consultation is free."

---

How her hand can feel so natural there in the crook of his elbow after hardly a day, he cannot tell. All he knows is that by the time the reading at the open air theatre is done the sun has started to dip in the sky and if this was what his work was like more often he'd perhaps be happier in his workaholic ways. Though they haven't broached the topic of work in hours now, instead ambling half-aimlessly northward towards Conquistadores where he's parked his rental car at the hotel he's staying at. Because it is a long way to Envigado and he insisted on driving her home. Because even though now that Escobar is gone Medellín is much safer, but he's never been one to easily trust a good thing.

It's only when they've crossed the big main street Avenida 33 that Miss Rivas gets quieter. She's obviously  tired following their prolonged outing, but he instantly misses the pleasant hum of her voice, her clever little observations- At the same time, it's a comfortable silence, not one weighed down by expectation. She'd even let down her hair from where it had been up in a ponytail for most of the day, most likely to keep the thick curtain of it away from her neck in the heat and sun.

They're just crossing a smaller square, the edge of it lined with shops, the hole-in-the-wall kind mostly, when she suddenly pulls away with a soft instruction to wait there for just a moment, and he's left to look after her flapping skirt with what is probably not the most dignified expression. Defeated, he sat down on the broad edge of a flowerbed nearby and watched her cross to a food vendor, order, and fish around for her wallet to pay, before turning around again with a plastic cup in each hand. Fresas con crema, he can make out upon her approach, and one corner of his mouth ticks up involuntarily.

"Hungry again?" He teased when she got within earshot, handing him one cup and setting the other down beside him along with her purse.

"There's always space for this in my stomach." She retorted primly. "If you don't want any, all the better."

"Thank you for the generous offer, but no. Thanks for this." He makes a show of cupping the treat protectively, fully knowing he'll have to set it down to unwrap the plastic spoon that came with it. It makes her laugh nonetheless, which imbues him with a strange, fluttery sense of accomplishment.

She's still standing, head thrown back and grinning wide, when her gaze catches on something at the far end of the plaza, and her expression morphs from glee to astonishment to rage so quickly it gives Javier whiplash.

"Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me!" Ripping off her glasses and thrusting them into his hands, she began stalking off.

Two things are fortuitous: one, she had to pass Javier to get to whatever she saw and two, his reflexes are still sharp enough for him to jump up and into her path, even having managed to safely deposit the cup of strawberries and cream.

"Whoa, what the hell is it?"

"I- ...she-" Her voice is strained, her whole body taut like a livewire as she attempts to round him and resume her warpath. On instinct, Javier took a few steps backwards, keeping himself between her and her target. It's only his hands on her shoulders that stall her enough for him to be able to whip his head around and follow her eyeline. That side of the square is empty save for an older lady shuffling along, huffing and puffing and blissfully unaware of the wrathful freight train about to rush her. To say Javier was puzzled would be an understatement.

"What, her? The old woman?"

"That's Hermilda Escobar!" She's shaking so much he has trouble keeping a grip on her. "Look at her! The nerve of that woman to show her face here-" She winds out from under his hands, rounding him with a quick sidestep, and he can only match her speed because his legs are longer.

"Hey!" Javier whisper-shouts to be met with flashing eyes, then repeats it more softly. "Hey. What exactly are you planning to do here, huh?"

"I'm gonna give that self-righteous bitch a piece of my mind is what I'm gonna do!" She retorted, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. It's cowing, the single-minded purpose rolling off of her. She's strumming with it, her seething damn near tangible. In her rage, she is ruthless. Javier had no doubt, in that moment, that once let go she might well maul the woman with more than words.

It's instinctive, the way his arm wraps around her. Like the few times he's had to restrain Steve and yet not like that at all. For one Javier doesn't have to go for a near chokehold, though energy-wise her wrath is at least as fierce. So, he wraps one long arm around her waist, hauling her much slighter body against his with a half-turn, her forearms colliding sharply with his chest.

"Easy." He rumbles, his other arm coming up to fold across her shoulders. "Easy. Calm down. Calm down!"

Palms smack against his pectorals and it stings. "Hey!" He tightens his hold around her trembling body, her angry, anguished squirming. Softens his voice. "Hey. Calm down, okay? What're you gonna do, beat up that old woman in the street? Come on, breathe."

The sound that comes out of her is something very closely related to a snarl, and he feels the bite of her nails even through his shirt, but holds fast, continuing to ramble empty phrases with the intent to soothe, or at least distract.

"If you tell me to calm down one more time I will get violent." She promised, hands pushing into his chest in an effort to break his hold. The old woman has almost passed by completely by now, seeming blissfully unaware of the savaging she's escaping. Javier held fast, as tight as he dared, the hand still pinching the pair of glasses between two fingers awkwardly patting at her shoulder while he sways them both, rocking from foot to foot.

By the time Diana has calmed down enough that he feels comfortable loosening his hold, the old woman is long gone from view. He feels her slump in his grip, reflexively tightening his arms again to hold her up.

"Hey," he gentles, lightly nudging the side of her head and thinking, distantly, that all but burying his nose into her soft hair is far too intimate a position for any of this. "Hey, it's alright, I've got you, okay? I've got you."

They're still swaying on the spot, a gentle see-saw motion, and then he felt the hands that had been clenching and unclenching on his chest lose all tension and drop down to the side. She's still shaking, her whole ribcage jumping with the hiccup of suppressed sobs. Somehow, he maneuvers them both around and back the few steps from where their snack and her purse still wait beside the flowerbed.

"Why'd you hand me these, anyway?" It's but a cheap distraction tactic, Javier handed her the glasses back as soon as she sat nevertheless.

"I'm not blind without them." Diana responded tersely, snatching the glasses and cleaning the lenses with the hem of her dress. When she doesn't deign to elaborate, he sighs and stretches from where he'd sat back on his haunches in front of her, resuming his earlier seat and finally unwrapping the spoon. It's a tense silence for a long moment, her aggravation like a pulse around them. Certainly it gives Javier a good bit to think on.

"You wanna tell me what that was all about?"

"Don't condescend to me. You may have been closer to the action, but I've lived here all my life." She ripped open her own packet with a vengeance, digging the spoon into her own portion with such force that the sliced strawberries bleed into the white cream. Javier sighed. Took a moment to order his words before they leave his tongue.

"I just need to know if this," he gestured between her and the edge of the square, "is going to be something that has to be taken into account. I need to know that you're not just in this for revenge. I need to know where you're at mentally. I need to be sure, both for your own safety and the integrity of this operation, that you're not just going to snap one day and try to claw Miguel Rodríguez' eyes out, okay?"

She chews angrily a moment, eyes flashing at him before she stares straight ahead again. The wrath is still rolling off of her in waves, perhaps dipping a bit in its intensity, but far from dulling just yet.

"You want to know my motivations, is that it? Well, let me lay it out for you, Agent Peña: of my entire class, a third never even made it to graduation, for one reason or another. I spent my youth plotting routes around gunfights in the street, with just enough success to still be alive, somehow. My mother was caught in the crossfire of a raid and was afraid to leave the house for years afterwards. My father was on that Avianca flight. My baby cousin Maritza is dead and her baby will grow up without her mother. And throughout it all, I took the coward's way out, moved cities, for university, for work, for marriage, for myself even, and everywhere I went they were, too. The narcos have spun their spider's web across the whole damn country and beyond and sooner or later everyone gets stuck in it. I got stuck in it despite my best efforts, and I'm tired of it. I'm tired of having to flee and turning up in dead ends. Somehow I have landed in this unique position, and I refuse to join them. Is that enough motivation for you, Agent Peña?"

She held his gaze, a challenge in fire, and he wondered how much longer that adrenaline surge would sustain her before she crashed. Wordlessly, he nodded his affirmation.

It's more tense silence after that, thick like stew or the humidity out in the jungle. She doesn't reach for him again as they resume the walk up to his hotel, doesn't casually link their arms like before, choosing instead to fidget with the handles of her bag. He hates it, misses the lightness the day had before. These narcos, they really do poison even the most mundane of things with their long, bloodied shadows. When they get to the hotel's underground garage, she's gone even more quiet, almost deflated. There are no more words exchanged, save for the clipped directions to her aunt's house. At one point, Javier was almost certain she'd dozed off.

---

"Do you ever think you should have been there? When they finally got him?" He'd just parked the car opposite of the house. It's almost completely dark outside by now.

"...Yes." Of course he did. He'd wanted, even needed to. The temporary suspension had not been near as effective a punishment as denying him that. The fruits of his labor, of years spent chasing after shadows and getting himself mired deeper and deeper, until he barely recognized himself when he looked in the mirror. He'd wanted it, sure, but perhaps he hadn't deserved it.

"Why did they send you home?" It's not that Javier is in a particularly obstinate mood, it's just that after the incident earlier, he's reluctant to bring up his own involvement with the cartels of Calí and Medellín, much less Los Pepes, so he gives a non-committal grunt in response. He should have known that wouldn't deter her. "When I first called, Agent Murphy said you had been recalled to the States. I only found out later that that was before they finally got Escobar. Why would a top agent on a case of this magnitude be pulled off and sent back before that?"

"You mean what did I do?" She nodded. There was no getting out of it now. He didn't want to lie to her either. Javier sighed, scratching his thumbnail across his brow. "You're going to look at me differently."

"Perhaps, yes." She took a deep breath, rummaging through her purse and producing a folded up paper. "These are the names of some American banks that I'm very certain help funnel and launder Calí's money. Sorry it's nothing more specific." She placed the paper in his hand, gently closing his fingers over it. "Whatever you tell me, we're in this together, right? We both want to bring them down. I trust you, alright?"

Javier gulped, his fingers tingling under her touch. He pockets the paper to buy time, if only to swallow through his suddenly-too-dry throat. And then he tells her. The dead ends and the crippling bureaucracy, Don Berna, the Castaño brothers and Judy Moncada and Pacho Herrera. His desperate grasping at straws to find a way, any way to throw a wrench in the escalating violence and catch Escobar, how that backfired so spectacurlarly. How he tried to get out, despite knowing that these people do not allow outs. How he'd been played by the fucking CIA because he'd been an idiot falsely believing that the two agencies were operating under even remotely the same objectives. How he'd gone down, almost taking his partner with him, definitely tanking his boss' career. He hasn't spoken to anybody about this in such depth, not even his father. By the end of it, he's exhausted.

"So you're the one Carlos Castaño wanted to feed to the crocodiles."

"What?" He'd expected judgement, even disgust. Certainly not this.

"I overheard Gilberto mentioning it on the phone. I think he must have just learned that you'd be the DEA's man in charge. 'Maybe I should have let you feed that damn DEA agent to the crocodiles after all, Carlos.'  The door wasn't all the way closed, that's how I heard it. I think that was the moment I realized I couldn't wind my way out of this. That either they were going down, or they were going to find out that I was already talking to Agent Murphy and have me... vanished."

"I won't let that happen." Javier promised instinctively, hands tightening on the steering wheel. "Crocodiles though? Really?" Not how he thought he'd end, that was for certain.

"Yeah, they're very uh... charming, huh?"

Javier grimaced. "If I never see any of them again, it'll be too soon."

"Knock on wood." Diana replied and unbuckled herself, pushing open the door.

"I'll walk you. It's dark."

"It's only across the street." She protested, and was that the ghost of a smile on her lips? Javier's hands stilled on his own seatbelt.

"You sure?"

"If my aunt catches me coming home with a man I'll never hear the end of it." Diana slipped out of the car, then bent to grab her purse. "Good night, Agent Peña. Until next time."

"Good night, Miss Rivas."

He waited until she was inside, the door securely locked behind her, before starting the drive back.

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Chapter 3

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Author’s note cont’d: if you wanna know what I had in mind, approximately, for the wedding gown see here

The International Poetry Festival of Medellín is a real thing, too. They have a youtube channel