#she only uses the gun in dire situations

[karagna]

An elf girl with a gun could save me

[charnelhouse]

Hey babe….Just putting this out into the charniverse. That lil side descriptor you put in the ghost fic about him licking reader to tears. If you ever wanna uh….give us a clearer picture of that —I’m sure the class would have absolutely No complaints 👉👈

A/N: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader. Hurt/Comfort. Soap is nosy. This became something else.

When they find Red, Ghost's back goes rigid. Soap has never seen his Lieutenant freeze when they’re in the field. It’s mid-mission. Time is ticking. 

But shit’s gone south. 

Even without seeing Ghost’s face, it’s apparent that her distress has rocked him with the same force as a bullet. He appears momentarily stunned as he stares down at Red. She's in shock, clamping her hands over her belly where blood has drenched the stiff fabric of her suit. Sweat beads her hairline. Utter agony carved into her features. They’d heard her over the coms. She’d been attacked by a leftover hostile. She’d screamed, and Ghost hadn’t hesitated. He'd run.

“Simon,” she whimpers, and he jerks before bolting forward. His giant black boots reverberate over the cement as he swings his gun behind him so he can tend to her. The enormous man crouches low, knees popping. 

“You’re alright,” Ghost says in a low coaxing voice. He gently pulls her wrist away from the growing dark stain. She whines, wrenching her hand back to her belly, desperate to stem the blood flow. “Duchess,” he murmurs. “Let me see it.”

“It’s bad,” she whispers. “Ghost - it’s-it’s not good.”

“Let me look at it,” he urges. “I can’t help you if I don’t know.”

Red grimaces, and Soap understands. She doesn’t want to see it because then the pain becomes real, the direness of her situation. Finally, Ghost manages to move her hand, but he doesn’t release it. He clutches it possessively in his huge fist, thumb stroking her skin at a slow, even pace.

What. That’s slightly intimate. A touch tender.

Soap sees his shoulders subtly tense once the wound is revealed to him. “We’ll have to deal with it at the safehouse while we wait for Medevac.” Ghost’s voice is perfectly calm, a little strained. He’s trying not to frighten her even though the floor is tacky with her blood. Soap isn’t sure if he should help or retreat, he feels like his participation may pop some bubble that’s holding Red together. She seems comforted by Ghost’s presence.

The masked man brushes his thumb over her cheek, and she leans into it. 

“I killed the guy.”

“I know you did, kid,” he says softly, a hint of amusement under his tongue. 

Soap blinks. It falls into place. All of it. Ghost and Red Fox. Something is rooting them together, blossoming bright in front of him. Ghost is handling her with a gentleness that Soap didn’t know he possessed. It’s not because she’s a woman, it’s because she’s important.

This isn't new. He's seen this before.

He recounts the numerous times he’s noticed his superior act differently regarding her. It’s nothing blatant, but it’s there. Well hidden because of his mask. You can only hear it in the inflection Ghost’s uses when he calls her name, the way he inhales sharply when she stumbles or goes silent over the coms.

Hiding in plain sight.

Soap clears his throat, and Ghost flinches as if he’d forgotten anyone else was in the room. He lurches forward, hand on his gun, and secures Red behind him before he realizes it’s Soap. “The target, L.T.?”

Ghost curses and then shakes his head. “Gaz,” he barks into the coms. “What’s your position? You got eyes?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Finish it.”

“I feel weird,” Red Fox slurs, and she looks terrible. Sunken-in. There’s a grayness sticking to her complexion. She reaches for Ghost, fingers trembling as she wraps them around the straps of his vest. “Ss’cold.”

Soap isn’t sure what to do. Everything is hanging in the air. Pulsing. Alive. There’s the distinct pop of a gunshot through the coms. Mission Accomplished. 

“Alright, Red,” Ghost says, sliding his arms under her as he slowly lifts. “Up.”

Her mouth drops open, her brows knitted together from the pain. Soap offers her an empathetic look and awkwardly pats her knee from where she lies in Ghost’s hold. “You’re good, Foxy,” he smiles. “Just a scratch, yeah?”

Ghost grunts before cradling her to his chest, his mask blank. A stain of white in the dark aside from a splatter of red across the teeth. 

Soap reads him quite well. Don’t get in my way.  

***

“You gotta stay still,” Ghost demands in a low voice. “You’ve got this. You’re strong as all hell.”

“JESUS. FUCK.” 

“I need to clean it, kid,” he says, frustration building. “That was a dirty fucking knife.”

There’s another painful groan from the bed where Ghost is frantically hovering over Red like a nursemaid. The wound is gruesome. She’d been stabbed, and then the blade wrenched upward. Even Vargas had blanched at the sight of it. The flesh torn and bruised from the force used by her attacker. 

Soap waits outside the door to offer assistance if Ghost needs it. The Luitenant has remained strangely protective, not wanting too many in the room.

“Ow!” Ghost hisses. “That was my bloody eye.”

Red whimpers again before Ghost, seemingly forgetting that she’s just struck him, immediately begins to comfort her. Soap can hear it in her voice. The suffering is palpable. Her breath hitches before a sob breaks free. 

“Ah, shit,” Ghost says. “C’mon, no tears.”

“It fucking hurts,” she practically screams as something hard crashes to the floor. Soap thinks it may have been the lamp at her bedside. 

“I know,” he replies, and Soap discerns the distress in his tone. Ghost is scared, miserable that she’s miserable. “I know, darling.”

Darling. 

It seems to work like a balm. She hiccups, throat thick and wet before she says something Soap can’t make out. Ghost responds in an equally quiet voice. A soft murmur before he chuckles. 

Chuckles! 

Ghost is saying something again. The chair creaks on the floor, the man’s massive weight shifting forward. Curiosity gets the better of him, and Soap peeks through the doorway. 

He can only see Ghost from behind. He’s hunched over her, blanketing her with his body. He’s got a knee between her legs, one hand braced on the mattress. He’s doing something to her face. Soap can’t help himself, he takes a step to the left until he’s able to catch that Ghost has lifted his mask a few inches, forehead shoved against her own. He cradles her jaw and kisses Red like he’s lost the plot. She stiffens before her fingers curl around his neck and sighs like he’s doused her in cool water. 

Ghost retreats, cocking his head to appraise her before claiming her lips again and then dragging his tongue up her cheek, licking her tears in a way that borders on erotic. She groans and pushes at his massive chest. 

“Oh God, Simon.”

Ghost snatches one of her hands to slide his mouth over it. She shudders and then flinches, expression screwed up in pain, but her eyes are clearer. Her lashes clumped with tears. “You’re so weird,” she accuses in a tiny voice.

“Distracted you, though, didn’t I?” He draws away, pulling his mask back over his chin. “You enjoyed it a little.”

“I’m dying of blood loss.”

“You aren’t.” Ghost grabs the saline solution and cotton pads. “You gonna be a big girl and stop wriggling?”

“Get Soap,” she says. “He can hold me down.”

Soap shoots backward, soundlessly jamming himself against the hallway wall. 

“You’re just askin’ for it now,” Ghost growls before the chair squeaks as his enormous weight drops into the seat. There’s another moment of silence, aside from him unwrapping the gauze and unscrewing the cap on the solution. 

Soap should retreat. He should leave right now, but then Ghost speaks again.

“You can’t do that to me,” he says in a low voice. 

“I stayed alive, right?” she replies. “It’s the job, Simon.”

“Stay alive harder next time.”

There’s a beat of silence before Red answers.

Her voice is full of tenderness, and the words get lost in it. Indiscernible. Soap tiptoes away, suddenly mindful that he’s eavesdropping on something not meant for him.

[yelena-bellova]

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen: Carry You Home

Plot: Ellie and Y/n do their best to save a wounded Joel and survive on their own.

Word Count: 8.6k

Warnings: canon-typical violence, language, blood, injuries, hunting, reference to smut

A/N: Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy…these chapters suck to write for 2 reasons…1: D*vid. 2: We’re getting so close to the end that I want to cry 😫 I’m going to miss this show so much!!

As always, this series is 16+ and I will not be adding anyone to the taglist if your age/range isn’t in your bio. Gotta look out for younger eyes 👀

I hope y’all enjoy this blend of fluff and angst and laughter. I’m going to try to get 14 out on Sunday, but no promises. Read on!

——————

“Protect him.”

Tess’ dying words had echoed through Y/n’s mind more times than she could count. The sentiment had travelled with her across the county, an ever-present passenger on their journey.

And now they were haunting her.

Ellie and Y/n had managed to get Joel into the basement of an abandoned house, laying him down on an old, dank mattress. Unfortunately, he had woken up by then and was feeling the full force of his wound.

“I know, I know,” Y/n tried to soothe him as he screamed, bent over his abdomen. The tourniquet had done a subpar job at stopping the bleeding. If it had been a river, now it was a stream. “Hold still,” she looked to Ellie, “Press down on the wound. Hard.”

Ellie had found an old towel in the kitchen upstairs and tore off a strand.

“Squeeze,” Y/n instructed Joel, who was already squirming in pain, “Hard as you need.”

Joel had lost enough blood for the world around him to spin, the only things in focus were Ellie and Y/n’s faces.

Y/n nodded to Ellie, who pressed down on Joel’s wound, causing him to choke on his own breath. His hand shot out, reaching for Y/n’s arm and crushing it in his grip. She turned her face downwards to hide the grimace of pain.

“Ah, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Ellie cursed as Joel writhed beneath her hands.

“Keep going,” Y/n ordered, blindly reaching a hand out to push Joel’s shoulder into the mattress, “Honey, c’mon, I need you to work with us.”

Joel winced, digging his head back into the bed. Out of all the injuries he’d sustained over the years, this was the worst. Not just because of the searing pain stabbing through him, but because it was the one that was going to take him out.

He was dying, and neither Y/n nor Ellie could stop it.

“Leave.”

They both ignored the word.

“Leave,” Joel strained through it again.

“He’s lost a lot of blood,” Y/n stated, watching Ellie’s hands, “He’s gonna say some weird shit.”

“Go,” he continued.

“Shut up, Joel,” Ellie’s breaths quickened in quiet panic.

“Take the gun-“

“Joel, shut the fuck up,” she yelled.

“Ellie,” Y/n said forcefully, the girl’s hands were slipping. She pushed them off and held the rag down on Joel’s wound.

With a last surge of strength, Joel reached out and grabbed Ellie by the collar, yanking her to face him.

“You go,” Joel whispered, “You go. You go north. Y/n-“

Y/n shook her head, shutting out the reality of their dire situation. “Stop,” she said without looking up.

Joel was undeterred, “You go to Tommy.”

“Stop,” Y/n gritted out, her hands hanging over his stomach with no plan of action. She wasn’t even sure what there was to be done. At best, she was only stalling Joel’s death by a few precious minutes.

When she finally dared to look up, her gaze fell on Ellie, whose eyes were misting as she stared down at Joel. He shoved Ellie back, releasing her from the burden of caring, and let his arm fall at his side.

Joel managed to turn his head, letting his eyes wash over the woman he loved, had never stopped loving. Kneeling over him and covered in his blood, he thought back to how she’d looked the night they’d first met. Her eyes untouched by cynicism, her laugh deflecting no hidden pain, her smile striking him like lightning and giving him a new pursuit in life; to bring enough joy to her life that her lips were forever turned up.

Now he was going to break her heart. Again.

He thought of their last night together, spent cradling each other’s bodies underneath the sheets in Jackson. How his skin had remembered the feel of hers the moment they touched, how his lips had recalled the roads they used to travel across her like he would an old hometown street. Though bathed in the tears of their sins and all they had lost, he had been reborn at the first kiss. He had a standing reservation in hell, but he could go knowing he’d felt the touch of an angel.

“Rose…” Joel strained out, the word tasted like sweetness.

The four letters burned in Y/n’s ears, sending a new wave of fear through her. “No,” she finally looked to Joel, “This isn’t how it happens.”

“Rosebud,” he pushed with a surprising calm to his tone.

“Joel, no,” Y/n fought to keep her sobs down, “This is not how it happens. It’s not.”

Joel’s hand shakily slid up her arm, needing to feel her as he told her, “I love you.”

Y/n squeezed her eyes shut, the strength of her grip on the towel faltering as she forced them open to look at Joel. Despite his impending death, there was a peace that filled in the lines of his face, one that only graced those who were on their way out.

“No,” Y/n whined, her voice unable to carry further than the distance between them. She reached up to stroke his hair, taking his cheek in her other hand, “This isn’t how I want to hear it, Joel. Please.”

Once he’d said it, he couldn’t stop. He was making up for twenty years in twenty seconds. “I love you. I love you…” Joel drew a shallow breath, “You go. You take her,” his stare gripped her, nearly choking the will out of her, “Go.”

For as prominent as Joel’s abandonment had been in her life, Y/n had done her fair share of leaving. She had left Sarah’s body, at least it had felt like leaving, when they’d sought shelter in the triage clinic. She had left her parents, panicked at what she had done, in the spots where she’d taken their lives. She had left Tess to die the worst way a person could, even if she was only following orders. Her life had been one abandoning after the other, and now she was being asked to abandon the love of her life.

In her haze, Y/n hadn’t even remembered Ellie was there. It wasn’t until she felt Joel’s thick coat being slipped over his body that she realized the girl was making her choice. She would decide, for once in their time together, to heed Joel’s words. And as her boots slapped against the stairs, she was also making Y/n’s choice.

Unable to force the words she felt like a sweet sickness inside her soul, she dissolved into tears, pressing her forehead to Joel’s. She didn’t think even if they’d had twenty years ahead of them that she’d have ever found to words to describe the depth of her love for Joel Miller. It stretched two decades of euphorias and tragedies. It was stronger than her hate or his violence. It was forgiveness and redemption and all-encompassing in its triumph over the worst of their persons.

Y/n sniffled, nudging Joel’s nose with her wet one and letting her mouth hover over his as if she could breathe life back into him. Joel took it, letting his eyes fall shut and savoring the the last of her lips he’d ever feel.

Joel had spent twenty years trying to detach from who he’d been, his old skin a constant reminder of all that he’d almost had. Y/n had spent twenty years trying to find her way back to her humanity, desperate to redeem herself. Without ever knowing it, they had been running back to each another, one step at a time.

Protect him.

Perhaps Y/n had only kept her promise to Tess in the beginning out of obligation. But now, now the words were as true as if they’d come out of her own mouth.

Joel had left her once.

She’d be damned if it happened again.

Y/n broke from Joel’s lips, rushing to her feet and bolting for the stairs.

From Joel’s point of view, it was the last he’d ever see of her. There was a duality that Cordyceps had forced on anyone who prioritized survival over anything else. Joel had meant every word with the force he’d said it, he wanted Y/n and Ellie safe. But he also knew he was dying, something that, despite all he’d wished over the years, he wasn’t ready to do yet. He had Ellie, this beautiful, unexpected gift of a child, who depended on him as if she was his own. And now he had Y/n, the miracle that he’d let slip through his fingers, returning to him with the same perfect timing she’d first appeared to him. He wanted to stay, to cherish and protect them like the man they made him feel he could be again. And if that wasn’t in the cards for him, he at least wanted to hold their hands as he faded out.

As Joel watched Y/n head up the stairs, he let a single tear fall down his face. He’d had one last night, one last kiss, and one last ‘I love you.’ It wasn’t a lifetime, but it would have to be enough.

When Y/n got to the stairs, Ellie was nowhere to be found. Was she already saddling the horses? Was it that easy for her to let Joel die?

“Ellie,” she called through her tears, bursting through the door, “Ell-“

The girl rushed past her, one step ahead, raiding cabinets and drawers.

Y/n felt herself breathing for the first time in an hour.

“What do we look for?” Ellie hurriedly asked.

“Something,” Y/n flung a empty cabinet door open, “Anything. We need to get the wound closed up.”

They searched high and low, in every room, until they met in the kitchen. Ellie dove for a set of drawers while Y/n scoured more cabinets.

“It won’t open,” Ellie groaned, pulling against the handle.

Y/n ran over, squeezing her hands next to Ellie’s and tugging with her. “Pull,” she breathed, the two of them shifted all their weight backwards.

The drawer’s internal mechanism released, the momentum they’d built throwing Ellie and Y/n to the ground. The contents were scattered from the drop.

“There’s nothing here,” Y/n panted, on the verge of frustrated tears.

“W-wait,” Ellie breathed, her hand sliding across the linoleum floor to grab something. She held up a rusted needle and thread to Y/n.

“Yes,” Y/n gasped, she took the supplies into her shaking palms. She wished she hadn’t used the last of her own days before, but they could make do with what they had, “Yes, this’ll work.”

Stumbling to their feet, they ran back through the door and down the steps, bringing salvation with them.

Joel was trying, trying to hold the rag to his wound, hoping it made his death a little less painful, but his strength was fading. His whole body shook with shivers, even his lips trembled from the cruel mixture of shock and the cold. He could feel himself slipping away, so much so that he was convinced the thudding footsteps he heard were hallucinations.

Y/n and Ellie kneeled down on either side of him, their faces illuminated by the last bit of light peeking through the clouded basement window. His saviors.

Ellie threw Joel’s coat off of him, catching her breath as she reached for his hand.

Y/n leaned down, interlocking her fingers with his other hand and brushing the hair from his face. She pressed a determined kiss to his clammy forehead, willing him to stay alive a little bit longer.

Joel would never admit to them just how much he’d wanted them to stay. He summoned what was left of his strength and tried to squeeze both of their hands, letting them squeeze back. They were going to fight this, and they were going to do it together.

Ellie reached for the towel and peeled the cloth off Joel’s wound. The bleeding had slowed, but was far from stopping. They had to move fast.

In the midst of their panic, Joel softly reached for Ellie’s cheek, pulling back halfway when he lost his strength. It was a moment none of them noticed in their mad rush.

“Honey,” Y/n began, pressing one more kiss to Joel’s skin, “We gotta get it closed up. It’s gonna hurt like a motherfucker,” she moved Joel’s hands to grab her forearms, “So you fuckin’ squeeze, and try to stay still for us. Okay?”

Ellie quickly thread the needle and tied a knot. Y/n wished she could spare her the pain of having to stitch Joel up, but Y/n was the only one who’d be able to hold him down and keep him relatively calm.

“Keep going,” Y/n directed Ellie, “I’m gonna try to keep him still, but you don’t stop, even if he moves.”

Ellie nodded, apologetically seeking Joel’s eyes one last time before turning to his abdomen.

Y/n put both her hands to Joel’s shoulders, bracing herself for what was to come.

“Go,” she said,

Joel let out a sickening groan as Ellie thread the needle, the pain giving him strength enough to squeeze Y/n’s arms so tight, she couldn’t help but wince. In his daze, he could sense he was hurting her, but couldn’t fight past that which his own body was bringing him.

Tears sprung to Y/n’s eyes as she forced Joel down into the mattress, taking the searing heat in her shoulder as a good thing. It meant Joel still had enough fight inside him to push through.

“I know, I know, I know, I know,” she muttered as Joel threw his head to the side, trying to hide his grimaces from Ellie, “I know, honey. Just hang on.”

Joel’s vision was going dark around the edges, the pain dulling all his senses. The only thing strong enough to cut through was Y/n’s voice.

“I’m here,” Y/n assured Joel, his eyes fluttering but fighting to look at her, “I’m here. I got you.”

“It’s stopping,” Ellie announced, still hard at work.

Y/n wasn’t able to sigh in relief yet, Joel had finally lost the battle and had slipped into unconsciousness. She’d expected it, but it didn’t mean she wasn’t still filled with dread.

It only took Ellie a few more minutes to finish sewing Joel’s wound, Y/n helping her to tie a clumsy knot at the end. They dabbed and tried to clean the blood off him as best they could before laying his shirts back down. When they were done, they slid off their ankles and onto the concrete, watching the rise and fall of Joel’s chest.

“Is he…” Ellie began before realizing it was a stupid question.

Y/n was fighting off the same thought, wondering if their efforts would be enough, or if it was a losing battle.

“I hope so,” she whispered, it didn’t matter to her if fate was calling Joel Miller home. She would rage against it regardless.

The next hour was spent waiting and watching. Ellie, eventually, went upstairs and collected their backpacks.

Y/n kneeled above Joel’s head, her hands resting over each of his ears. She combed her fingers through the ends of his hair, not trying to wake him or soothe him further into sleep, but simply providing what little comfort she could to both of them.

Ellie clunked down the stairs with their packs and sleeping bags, depositing them on the floor. She had spent the last three months watching Joel and Y/n fight, and the last week watching them drift back together. This was new. She hadn’t seem them vulnerable, on the verge of losing one another when they’d finally found some sort of peace. She didn’t have twenty years of experience, but she understood why Y/n was hunched over, cradling the man, who didn’t even know she was there.

Ellie settled against the wall, working up the courage to speak. “How’d you guys meet?”

It was perhaps the only thing said in the moment to make Y/n smile. “At a bar,” she answered, remembering the night like it had just passed, “A guy hit on me, couldn’t take the hint that I wasn’t interested…Joel threw a punch, Tommy threw the next…” she nearly laughed, “Then they threw him out.”

“So…he’s always been like that,” Ellie commented.

Y/n soothed a thumb over Joel’s cheek, the skin was so pale it almost brought on a fresh batch of tears. Or maybe it was the reminder that they’d once lived in a world where violence wasn’t a necessary evil. Where Joel’s laugh was an every day occurrence. When he kissed her as if it was the last time he ever would, with the end nowhere in sight.

“No,” she whispered over the lump in her throat, “He wasn’t.”

Ellie sensed she was getting to close to shattering what was left of Y/n, and she couldn’t do that. She needed one person left to look to, to hold her hand through these impossible problems. She rubbed her hands together anxiously, nearly choking on the words she wanted to say.

“Riley.”

Y/n dragged her eyes away from Joel to look up at Ellie, “What?”

Ellie drew a shaky breath, “Riley. She was my…she was my friend,” she rubbed her knuckles together, “She got infected and…”

All of Y/n’s longing told her to stay with Joel, not to move from her spot, no matter what. But her duty was to both him and Ellie, and she knew where she was needed at the moment. She inched her hands off of Joel’s head and crawled over to Ellie, coming to sit next to her against the wall.

“I knew Riley,” Y/n admitted, hugging a knee to her chest.

Ellie’s eyes widened, “You did?”

Y/n nodded, “She only joined a few weeks before…” she trailed off. Marlene had been the one to find them, Y/n had been back at base. But she’d met Riley, had even tried to take her under her wing before the fatal night at the mall. “She was fucking fearless,” Y/n shifted gears, “And fun.”

“Did she ever mention me?” Ellie asked after a beat of silence.

“No,” Y/n replied, looking over her arm to Ellie’s expectant stare, “I think she wanted to keep you safe,” she cracked a smile, “Bloodthirsty demons that we are.”

Ellie’s lips turned up the slightest bit, but they fell just as quick. It was one of the first times she had allowed herself to grieve her best friend, and there was something about the setting that made it all hurt worse. Across from her, Joel lay on the brink of death. To her side, Y/n was sitting with her in worry and in comfort. The last two people on the planet that she loved.

Y/n’s maternal instincts caught the change in Ellie’s demeanor just before she broke. She slipped an arm around her shoulders as the first tears fell, Ellie willingly sliding into Y/n’s side and curling her face into her body. It was the first time Ellie had allowed anyone, apart from Riley on that dreadful night, see her fall apart, and Y/n didn’t take it lightly. She pressed a kiss to the top of the young girl’s head, reminding herself that the journey had started out the two of them, and if even if tragedy intervened, it would end with the two of them.

—————————

Deep into the night, Y/n stayed awake, telling Ellie she’d press on until morning. The girl needed a break from the world.

Joel stirred a few times, letting out a moan or blindly reaching to clutch his wound. Y/n was there each time, holding his hand and soothing him back to sleep. Around what Y/n guessed was 3AM, he stopped slipping in and out and just stayed out. His ragged breaths, creating a steady rhythm in his stomach, were the only thing reassuring Y/n that he was still alive.

While Ellie was awake, Y/n held it together as best she could. But under the cover of dark, she allowed herself to fall apart, her fear for Joel’s life swallowing her whole.

“Do you remember that trip we took to the beach?” Y/n whispered, hanging over Joel’s head, stroking a hand over his hair as her other one cupped his cheek, “For our anniversary? Sarah’s graduation?”

In her weaker moments over the years, Y/n had drifted back to the memory. It was the last time she could remember feeling truly free and yet it was also the first time she remembered feeling tied down. Stuck in the space between Sarah’s dad’s girlfriend and a parent, between Joel’s love of one year and his potential wife. She wanted them both back; the liberation and the duty.

“Remember that night?” Y/n asked Joel’s unconscious form, she’d always wondered how she could recall the exact feel of the hotel sheets. The exact trail of her skin Joel’s lips had traveled. Which of his t-shirts she’d been wearing. “I made you promise that…” Y/n trailed off, bristling, “It sounds so fucking stupid now.”

“No matter how much I hated you,” Y/n slid her thumb against Joel’s cheek, “I couldn’t hate you enough to stop loving you. I tried, my g-“ Y/n chuckled softly, “I tried so fucking hard. Couldn’t do it.”

Her tears were building now, the more she exposed, the more the threat of loss became real.

“I waited twenty years, Joel,” she whispered, her throat tightening up on her, “Twenty fucking years, not knowing if you were dead or still hanging on. And then I got you back,” she sobbed once with nostalgic joy, “I got you back. And I can’t lose you before I get to love you again.”

Y/n lowered her head, dropping her lips to Joel’s ear, her voice barely audible, “Because I do. I love you. I love you so much it…” she bit back a cry, not wanting to wake Ellie, “It fucking hurts. You can’t just…you can’t just come back to me and then leave. You can’t do that to me. To Ellie.”

“I need you to fight,” Y/n begged, tears freely flowing down her cheeks, “I need you to fight so fucking hard, you need me to carry you the whole way to Utah, and I will. I’ll do it. I just need you there.”

Y/n choked on her sobs, digging her forehead into the mattress and letting them shake her. All her losses in life had been so sudden, she’d never had to watch a life hang, the pendulum swinging between a second chance and death. It was tearing her apart.

She wiped the snot and tears away on her jacket sleeve, the same sleeve that was painted with Joel’s dried blood. She leaned back over Joel, pressing the gentlest of kisses to his forehead. Y/n had heard stories of miracles, of voices at hospital bedsides being the thing to bring people back from death’s edge. She’d lost faith in that sort of thing after the loss of her family, but in the throes of worry, nothing was off the table. She’d stay up all night, telling Joel how much she loved him, if there was even a chance it would reach him.

—————————

For two days, Ellie and Y/n kept watch as best they could. With no medicine, there was little they could do to help Joel’s, now infected, wound.

Y/n finished up feeding snow to the horses, moving robotically from the garage to the basement. She hadn’t gotten more than maybe two hours each day. It didn’t feel right to rest when Joel was clinging to life.

She came downstairs to see Ellie kneeled next to Joel, placing one of their last pieces of rations on his chest.

“He wouldn’t want you doing that,” Y/n said softly.

Ellie sniffed away the cold air, “Yeah, well…”

If the terrible series of events was doing anything, it was showing how deeply they cared about each other.

“I’m going to go out real quick,” Y/n announced, heading to pick up her rifle, “Try and find us something to eat.”

“I’m coming with you,” Ellie jumped to her feet.

“No, you’re not,” Y/n replied, “You’re gonna stay here and watch him.”

“I can’t fucking do anything for him here,” the girl gestured down to Joel’s body, “If I can hunt something then…”

Y/n already knew what she was trying to say, she was desperate to feel in control of something. Hunting was a great way to make you feel like you had some power over the world.

“Okay,” Y/n sighed, “Twenty minutes.”

Ellie moved across the room to grab Joel’s rifle while Y/n crouched down and kissed his forehead.

“We’ll be back soon.”

The two of them filed up the stairs, both of their hearts unsettled at leaving without Joel. It was one thing to see someone with no fighting skills or survival techniques be taken down, but to see someone like Joel battling for their life was a quick way to make someone feel entirely exposed. And Y/n could feel the full weight of the responsibility they’d shouldered together the last three months.

Y/n drew her rifle into postition as her and Ellie exited through the front door, Ellie struck a similar stance. They moved down the driveway into the street, scanning for footprints in the snow that didn’t exist. They’d made the right decision to hide in the abandoned neighborhood.

Ellie and Y/n made their way to the forest, trudging through the snow and huffing patterns into the cold air.

“Remember what Joel taught you,” Y/n instructed, keeping her voice low to not spook any animals, “Regardless of what your instincts tell you, pull slow.”

Ellie’s eyes were already drifting ahead, having spotted a white rabbit thirty feet away from them. She glanced over to Y/n, who nodded for her to go ahead. Y/n felt better keeping her gun aimed at the space around them anyway.

Just as Ellie was setting herself up, the rabbit ran off. Ellie took off charging the way it had run.

“Ellie,” Y/n gritted, the worst thing to do when tracking an animal was to chase it.

Ellie tripped on a branch, falling face first into the snow.

Y/n came over and extended a hand to the girl, pulling her up to her feet. “Word of advice…if an animal’s running, you don’t go after it and make more noise.”

“Yeah,” Ellie exhaled, wiping the snow from her face, “I got that.”

“Come on,” Y/n hitched her rifle back over her shoulder, “Ten more minutes.”

The two of them walked a little further, eventually hearing a clicking noise that sent them both reaching for their guns.

Ellie hit Y/n’s arm, guiding her attention to a patch of trees providing shelter to a full-grown deer. Y/n gestured for her to take the nearest log and the shot. It felt like a good idea to keep Ellie as distracted as she could and maybe give her a much needed victory.

Heeding all of Joel and Y/n’s advice, Ellie lined up the shot perfectly and-

BANG!

The deer wailed, limping away into the depth of the forest.

“No fucking way,” Ellie muttered.

“Come on,” Y/n pulled her free hand and the two of them sprinted off after it.

There are certain moments in life that, with hindsight, stick out as forks in the road. If Person A hadn’t have made it to Point A, then Person B wouldn’t have found them and both their lives, good or bad, would be forever altered because they didn’t meet.

Y/n and Ellie couldn’t have known what they were running straight towards.

They tracked the blood trail of the deer 1/4 of a mile before hearing two male voices. Y/n threw her arm out, catching Ellie and holding a finger up to her lips. The two of them drew their rifles and very carefully stepped around the snowbank. Sure enough, there were two men standing over their now dead deer.

Y/n inhaled to speak.

“Don’t! Drop your rifles! Now!” Ellie yelled.

The two men carefully removed their guns from their backs, the taller of them keeping one eye on Ellie and Y/n.

“Turn around,” Y/n ordered, her gun locked on the tall man, while Ellie took the shorter one.

“Any sudden moves,” Ellie threatened, deepening her voice to make her words more convincing, “I put one right between your eyes. Ditto for buddy boy.”

Internally, Y/n grimaced. Ellie was going to get them killed with a poor imitation of Joel.

“You two are quite the hunters,” the shorter man said, his hands held in the air, “We didn’t even hear you coming.”

“Flattered,” Y/n replied, unimpressed, “But this is where you two walk away with your asses still attached and we take what’s ours.”

“Okay,” the man said, making no effort to move.

“Just go!” Ellie impatiently yelled.

“A-all I ask is ten minutes of your time,” the man continued.

“Did you not get that that was a warning?” Y/n muttered, extending her foot ever so slightly to make it look like she was taking a step closer.

“Please,” the man didn’t budge at her non-verbal threat, “Just ten seconds. My name is David. This is my friend, James. We’re from a larger group: women, children, and we’re all…very, very hungry.”

“We’re from a large group too,” Ellie lied, drafting the lie quickly in her head, “Also hungry.”

David sighed, “Well, even so…” he gestured to the deer, “Ya can’t drag this back just the two of you.”

“We’re fine,” Y/n finished the conversation. The world was dead, yet somehow misogyny was still alive and well…

“We’re not asking for charity,” David clarified, “W-we can trade you for some of the deer. What do you need? We have…boots-“

Ellie’s rifle lowered ever so slightly, her voice coming back to its childlike pitch, “Medicine? Like, for infections.”

“We do,” David replied, surprised they’d hit on something so fast, “Back in our village. You’re welcome to follow us.”

“Yeah,” Y/n wasn’t so quick to believe that it was just that simple, “That’s not happening.”

Ellie picked up her gun-slinging persona again, “Buddy boy can go get it. He comes back, you get half the deer. Anyone else shows up, I put-“

“Put one right between my eyes,” David finished for her.

“That’s right,” Ellie finished, sensing that at some point, she should have let Y/n take over the talking.

David turned to James, leaving his hands hanging in the air, “Alright, go talk to Howard. He’s got a case with some penicillin. Bring back two bottles and a syringe.”

James looked stunned at David’s request, as if killing the two women was the obvious option.

“It’s not code, James,” David added, “Do as I said.”

Y/n’s rifle remained trained on James, waiting for him to make the right move. The man kept his eyes on her the whole time till he could safely jog back into the forest.

“Ten steps back,” Ellie ordered David, her and Y/n marched the man backwards, “Keep going.”

Once he was past the deer, Ellie kneeled down to pick up David’s rifle, unloaded the cartridges while Y/n kept her aim fixed on him.

“That your dad’s gun?” David asked, “He the one who’s sick? That’s why you two are out here on your own?”

“This is not a Starbucks,” Y/n bit out, “We are not chatting over a latte. All you need to know is that one wrong move, and your village goes hungry a hell of a lot longer.”

The words hurt Y/n as she let them fly, she didn’t feel cut out for Joel’s intimidation tactics.

“Well, look, uh,” David looked behind them to an old cabin, “It’s a four mile round trip back to our settlement. It’s gonna be…a while before James gets back. I have some oil and matches in my pack, we could,” he gestured to the cabin once more, “Take shelter. Start a fire.”

It wasn’t the most obscene idea, Y/n thought. She didn’t plan on lowering her gun at any point, and if Ellie and her were going to make the trip back carrying half a deer with them, they needed to save the strength the cold was stealing from them.

“You bring him with us,” Y/n decided, nodding towards the deer.

David nodded back, a smile on his lips that Y/n couldn’t decode. She just knew she’d seen the same expression on the wrong kind of men before.

—————————

David tended to the fire he’d started in the middle of the cabin’s living room, sitting back down and warming his hands. Ellie and Y/n sat across from him, rifles aimed and ready to silence him.

“You know, you two really shouldn’t be out here on your own,” David said, his voice soft and concerned.

“Says the man with two rounds pointed at him,” Y/n remarked.

David shrugged, “Fair enough. So what’re your names?”

Ellie frowned, shaking her head in reply.

“It’s hard to trust strangers, I know,” David stated, “But I honestly mean you no harm. And for what it’s worth,” he opened his hands, “There’s room for you two in our group, if you want.”

“You’re inviting us to join your Hunger Club?” Ellie retorted, “Thanks.”

“It’s true, we’re hungry,” David admitted, “But we’re still here. I’m a decent man, just tryna take care of the people who rely on me.”

Y/n gave a nonchalant shrug, “Okay, so you’re the leader of a ragtag group of survivors. That’s nothing special.”

“Wasn’t my choice, it was theirs, but” David replied, “Yes.”

“They “chose” to follow you?” Ellie replied, “Is this some weird cult thing?”

One half of David’s mouth quirked up, “Uh, well, you sorta kinda got me there, I am a preacher, but just pretty standard Bible stuff.”

Ellie smiled to herself and glanced up at Y/n, who had already tuned out of the whole topic.

David looked between the women, “What?”

“The whole world ended, and you still believe that shit,” Ellie replied.

“I actually started believing after the world ended,” David corrected the girl, “Before that, I was a teacher. Math. Taught kids about your age.”

“So you went from teacher to preacher because, what? It fuckin’ rhymes?” Ellie fired back at the man.

David nearly laughed, “Yeah, exactly.”

Ellie smiled, just a little bit, keeping her aim on David but loosening it. He didn’t seem like much of a threat to her. Y/n, being older and having seen a lot more shit, was less convinced.

“But seriously,” Ellie prompted him to continue his story.

“Well, I found God…after the apocalypse,” David told them, watching Ellie more than Y/n, “Which is either the best time or the worst time to find Him, hard to say. But when the Pittsburgh QZ fell in ‘17, Fireflies and FEDRA…I left with a few others, and th-that’s how I ended up with our flock.”

“This is a long fucking way from Pittsburgh,” Y/n replied, perhaps it would have been a comment coming out of anyone else’s mouth, but it was an accusation from hers. There was something about him she didn’t trust.

David chuckled, “Yeah, we’d settle somewhere and then raiders would come, so we’d move again. And as we wandered, we picked up new people along the way until…” he glanced around him, “We ended up here.”

“Well, your luck had to run out sooner or later,” Ellie commented, the choice of words wasn’t lost on her or Y/n.

“Hm? Luck?” David rearranged his face the way some pastors did before jumping in the pulpit, “There’s no such thing as luck. No, I-I-I believe everything happens for a reason.”

Ellie and Y/n both shared a restrained smile, dodging the attempted sermon like it was a bullet.

“It does,” David insisted, grinning back at them, “I can prove it to you.”

“Okay,” Ellie agreed to his attempt.

David sighed, settling into his makeshift seat a little deeper. “We didn’t expect this winter to be so cruel. Nothing’ll grow. Game’s been hard to find. So I sent four of our people to a nearby town to-to scavenge what they could and only three of ‘em came back. And the one that didn’t was a father. He had a daughter just like you,” David pointed to Ellie, “And her dad was taken from her.”

Y/n slowly connected the dots, one step behind David but ten ahead of Ellie.

“Turns out…he was murdered,” David continued, “By this crazy man. And get this, that crazy man…was traveling with a little girl and a woman.”

Y/n was up on her feet, eye peering through the viewfinder, instantly.

“You see?” David smiled unsettlingly at Ellie, “Everything happens for a reason. James, lower the gun.”

Ellie spun around on her heels, both her and Y/n finding James returned, his handgun aimed straight at Ellie. They switched positions, Y/n’s weapon trained on James and Ellie’s on David.

“She is the one that killed Alec, isn’t she?” James asked.

“She didn’t kill anybody, neither of ‘em did,” David corrected, “Lower the gun.”

James and Y/n squared off, Y/n’s breath hanging on the edge of her lungs, just waiting to pull the trigger and release. Reluctantly, James lowered his pistol.

“Did you bring the medicine?” David asked his friend.

“Yeah, but-“

“Throw it to them.”

James hesitated, “David…”

Y/n’s back was turned to the preacher, but his silence indicated his seriousness. James reached into his pocket and tossed the small package at Y/n and Ellie’s feet.

“Back up,” Y/n said from between her teeth.

James did as requested, moving away from the medicine. Y/n moved closer to the man, letting him stare down the barrel of her gun while Ellie grabbed their trade.

“I know you’re not with a group,” David called, his voice creepily calm, “You won’t survive for long out there. I can protect you.”

They didn’t need to hear any more. Y/n fell behind Ellie, keeping her gun trained on the two men while the girl made a run for it. She thought to shoot them, be done with the whole thing and ensure their safe getaway. Except David had talked too much about his position in their town, they’d have twenty people after then instead of two. It was easy math.

As soon as she was certain David and James wouldn’t pick up their weapons, Y/n bolted into the forest after Ellie.

—————————

They made it back to the house, sweaty and out of breath.

Y/n shoved Ellie through the front door, fearfully scanning the street once before shutting and locking the door. When she got in, Ellie was already making for the basement, where Y/n followed her to.

“Are they gonna find us?” Ellie panted, sprinting down the stairs.

“I hope not,” Y/n replied, wishing she could give her more assurance they were safe.

Joel had barely moved since they’d left, his head having lolled to the right a little. Y/n knelt down at his shoulder, picking up a piece of rag to wipe the sweat from his brow. His body was working overtime to beat the infection.

“How the fuck do I do this?” Ellie loaded the syringe with the first bottle of penicillin.

“You put it either in the wound or around it,” Y/n instructed, an invisible question mark appearing at the end, “I don’t know, I’ve never dealt with a wound like this.”

Ellie considered her options, rolling Joel’s bloody shirt back and getting a good look at the gash. “Fuck it,” she muttered, just before inserting the needle in the middle of his wound.

Joel’s breathing quickened, his abdomen clenched a few times at the sensation, breaking through his unconsciousness. Y/n was there, pressing a kiss to his slick forehead, ready to hold him down if he woke.

“Okay,” Ellie said under her breath as she extracted the needle.

“Good job,” Y/n reassured her, “Penicillin’s fast acting. He should start to improve.”

“H-how do you know that?” Ellie asked, placing a worried hand on Joel’s forehead to test his fever.

The truth was, Y/n didn’t know anything. She was floating on a life raft in the middle of the ocean, adrift from any and all sense of safety. But she wanted to take solace in medicine, in the science of twenty years ago that a little dosage could stitch the body back together. She was choosing to believe.

“I don’t,” Y/n replied honestly, stroking Joel’s hair and peering up at Ellie, “But I have to have faith in something.”

“What, like the guy who wants to kill us?”

Y/n nearly bristled, “No, not exactly. I don’t believe everything happens for a fucking reason,” she looked back down at Joel, her lips quirking upwards briefly, “But some things…some things, definitely. And I don’t believe that we’d go through all the hell we have just to lose now…”

Ellie sighed, nervously rubbing her hands together as she watched Y/n tend to Joel. It came so easy to her guardian, to care for both her and the man who had abandoned her. Ellie’s walls remained so sky high, she wished that she could simply surrender to the warmth in her heart without fearing it as weakness.

She walked around to the other side of the mattress, sinking down onto its edge and laying down next to Joel. She carefully placed her hand on his chest and rested her head on his broad shoulder.

Y/n knew it was difficult for Ellie to open up, that the connection they’d formed back in Boston was like some eclipse that only came every hundred years. She’d watched Ellie slowly peel away at Joel’s defenses, until it was impossible for either to deny they cared about one another. Y/n wished desperately that Joel was awake to return the gesture, to encourage her vulnerability.

There wasn’t enough room on the mattress for all three of them, and Y/n didn’t dare ask Ellie to move an inch. Instead, she brought Joel’s hand up to his chest and laced her fingers through his. She rested her forehead just above his heart, the soft thudding against her skin filling her body with hope that he’d keep fighting. That he wouldn’t leave them.

Joel, slipping in and out of consciousness, wasn’t aware of much going on around him. But somewhere in his slumber, he could sense the warmth that was wrapped around him. He wasn’t chasing any white light, calling him home, but he chased the heat, leaning his head into it. He knew he was safe, so long as he could feel the warmth.

—————————

But there was no improvement the next day.

Joel’s wound had stopped bleeding, but his fever had yet to break.

Y/n knelt over Joel’s abdomen, sucking the second dose of penicillin into the syringe and injecting it. He didn’t so much as make a sound, that worried her.

Ellie sat on the edge of the bed and watched, waiting for some miraculous transformation to occur that would make Joel shoot straight up and return to his normal, grumpy self. If Y/n was honest with herself, her sleep-deprived mind was also waiting on something similar.

“Thought you said it was fast acting,” Ellie remarked, more bitter with the medication than Y/n.

“It is,” she answered, she was fucking exhausted, “But it’s not magic. He took a fucking…” Y/n let her hand fall against her lap, “Whatever it was. That doesn’t heal overnight.”

They didn’t want to say what they were both thinking.

“Come on,” Y/n sighed, rising to her feet with a groan, “Let’s go serve breakfast.”

The two of them filed out the garage, Y/n going to lift the squeaky door and Ellie carrying out a bucket. They gathered handfuls of the freshly fallen snow and brought it back to their horses, it was all they could offer them.

Y/n looked out on the neighborhood, her fingers nearly twitching in anticipation. They’d left tracks on their way back from the woods. If David decided to come after them, it might not be hard to find them. Then again, if he was a preacher, he could have subscribed to the believe that God might exact some sort of revenge on them rather than dirty his own hands.

“What are you thinking about?” Ellie asked, coming to stand by her side.

Y/n sighed, not wanting to consider dying any more. “How tired I am of fuckin’ snow.”

“You and me both,” Ellie remarked.

Without another word, Ellie leaned her head against Y/n’s shoulder. Y/n interlocked her fingers with the young girl’s and they stood in silence, drawing strength from one another.

A flock of crows cawing, flying away from something, broke their peace.

“Get back inside,” Y/n ordered, stepping into the street and following the direction the birds had fled from.

“No fuckin’ way,” Ellie argued, chasing after Y/n. It was wasted breath, telling her not to do something.

Y/n led them through a line of trees, staying low as they walked along a wooden fence. Through the shrubbery and snow, Y/n could spot several bodies a few hundred feet away and the tips of the rifles they carried.

David.

Neither of them dared to say a word, Y/n pushing Ellie backwards and hurriedly sneaking them back across the street to the house. They ran into the garage, quickly and quietly shutting the door behind them, before bolting through down to the basement.

“We gotta draw them away,” Ellie said, on the same wavelength as Y/n, “If they’re after him.”

“We ride back towards the university,” Y/n finished the thought, if there was a fight to be had, that was the best battleground.

Ellie slid across the basement’s floor, smacking Joel’s chest and shaking him by the arm, earning a gasp in return.

“Joel,” she urged, “Joel, wake up.”

“Joel,” Y/n called, she was already grabbing her rifle, “Joel, come on. Wake up!”

“He’s not fucking moving,” Ellie panicked, running off to her backpack.

Y/n took her place, grabbing Joel’s face in her hand, “Joel, I need you to fucking wake up. We need you. Now.”

Everything hit Joel’s ears as if he was underwater, three layers of sea between him and the words. The familiar voices were speaking urgently, in desperate tones. He found the strength to open his eyes, two tiny slits offering him a blurry view of Y/n.

“Keep them open, Joel,” Y/n urged, “Keep them open for me,”

Ellie returned with Joel’s knife, placing it in the hand across his chest, “Okay, okay, look at me. There are men coming, okay? We’re gonna lead them away from you, but if anybody makes it down here, you fuckin’ kill them. You got it?”

Joel’s eyes were beginning to glaze over again.

“Joel,” Y/n slapped his cheeks a few times, feeling him slipping from them, “Do not fall asleep right now. Stay the fuck awake.”

In the end, there was nothing else her or Ellie could do. David was coming and they had to act fast.

Y/n pressed a final, urgent kiss to Joel’s brow, before leaping to her feet with Ellie, praying that he was weakened rather than dead when they returned.

“We gotta block him in,” Y/n said as her and Ellie ran up the stairs, “Grab the china cabinet.”

The two of them maneuvered the hutch in front of the basement door, blockading the entrance as best they could. They ran out to the garage, quickly saddling both their horses and shoving the door back open.

“You ride in front of me the whole time,” Y/n ordered as she mounted her horse, “And if I go down, you don’t stop. You ride back to Tommy, got it?”

Ellie was ready to argue to the death on the point, “I-“

“You ride back to Tommy,” Y/n repeated, feeling the weight of what she was telling Ellie to do. It was the same one Joel had felt two days before.

Ellie rode out first, with Y/n bringing up her rear. She had her pistol off its holster and the rifle across her back, ready to do whatever necessary to keep Ellie and Joel alive.

They rode out the backyard, cutting past a few houses before coming out on the end of the street David and his men were creeping down.

“Hey, motherfuckers!” Ellie yelled just before her and Y/n began to fire. Ellie was shooting to warn, Y/n was shooting to kill.

As soon as the first bullets flew, making the men jump, Y/n and Ellie galloped off the same way they’d come from the university. Ellie listened and stayed ahead of Y/n as they rode. With each foot they gained, a new surge of determination flooded them both that they could make it. Y/n rotated on her horse and prepared to take another shot-

BANG! BANG!

One well timed bullet to Ellie’s horse sent the girl flying, landing harshly in the snow. The horse’s failed body tripped Y/n’s animal, she clutched the reins as she was thrown off, rolling into the snow as her spooked horse ran off.

“I got ‘em,” one of the men yelled.

“El,” Y/n grunted, belly crawling to Ellie, who managed to roll over onto her back. She was in a daze from the fall.

Y/n reached back for her rifle, scrambling to her feet as the crunch of boots began to surround her. She raised her gun at the first set of men, firing one bullet through one of their legs and sending him to the ground. She wasn’t quick enough to swing behind her and avoid the butt of one of their guns being driven into her head.

“Fuckin’ bitch,” the man muttered as Y/n fell.

It was a battle to stay awake through the dizziness, but Y/n managed to get to her knees, shielding the men from getting any closer to Ellie.

“Do it,” the same man who’d clubbed Y/n decided.

Even though they were her last moments, they didn’t feel like it to Y/n. She reached beside her to grab her pistol and cocked it. After twenty years of fighting, she wasn’t about to stop just because death and her were face to face. Not for Joel and certainly not for Ellie.

A shot fired into the air stopped the situation from escalating any further.

David came forward, standing over Y/n and Ellie. He cocked his head towards two of his men before Y/n, his disciples each grabbing one of Y/n’s arms and dragging her back.

“No,” she screamed, kicking wildly as David kneeled down beside Ellie and reached down to take her pulse, “Don’t you fucking touch her!”

David glanced up at Y/n, nearly amused by how aggravated she was. He removed his hand from Ellie, holding it up where she could see it. “Two of you with me,” he ordered, “Drag the horse,” he moved to pick Ellie up.

With all her strength, Y/n slammed her boot down onto one of her captor’s feet, causing his grip to loosen in the agony. She freed her arm and punched the second man at his temple, making him stumble backwards. “No!”

Y/n marched forwards, shoving David’s hands off of Ellie’s body, “She’s my fuckin’ kid.”

David watched every move, thoroughly evaluating the woman in front of him. He removed his hands and stood to his feet slowly, adhering to her demand.

Y/n brushed the loose strands of Ellie’s hair off her wet face, the sight of her unconscious nearly incapacitating Y/n with fear.

“The rest of you go door to door,” David continued his orders, “You so hungry for vengeance? Deliver it.”

Y/n’s head had barely turned before she caught herself. It was better for them to think Joel was up and about and that she had nothing to worry about. Internally, she felt fear spread to the very tips of her fingers.

David began to lead the way as Y/n lifted Ellie into her arms, beginning the two mile hike back to David’s community. She didn’t know what fate they were being marched towards, but she knew one thing.

She’d burn down the whole fucking town before she let anything happen to Ellie.

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[nerinefy]

FOREVER YOURS, TRULY...! — NEW YEAR'S SPECIAL PART I

PART II — JING YUAN (TO BE FOLLOWED)

★ synopsis: during a stroll, you find yourself facing him- the love of your life, down on one knee as the clock strikes 12 and the striking lights of the fireworks dance across the sky. despite the blaring noises heard in the background, there is only one thing you hear, "will you be with me? now and forever...?"

★ details: pronouns: you/yours | imagine | fluff | 700+ words

★ DAN HENG ★

You and the Astral Express Crew decided to visit Aurum Alley for their latest festivities for the new year. Due to all the stellaron catching and unrelated side quests along the way, you have never had the chance to explore the rich variety of goods sold throughout the market. Holding hands, you and Dan Heng went and strolled through the bustling streets. It was still quite a gentle and intimate moment despite the rush the alley was filled with. It wasn't often you two had the time to loosen up and think about each other's warmth and presence.

"Oh look, I've been meaning to try those new snacks they have at Tall Auntie's!" March 7th, who in fact was also there the whole time, informed the two of you. "I'll go buy some so sadly I'll have to leave you two here. I mean, not that it's your losses..." She grinned and winked at the two of you while pointing finger guns. "So am I coming or...?" Caelus asks. The pink-haired girl stared at him, annoyed before grabbing his hand with a tug, "we'll be off then," she said as they slowly disappeared into the crowd. In turn, Dan Heng sighed at the two's antics but then turned his face to look at you, squeezing your hand slightly.

With a deep breath, he asks, "Would you like to go somewhere?"

You tilt your head, "Why? Where? And uh...aren't you forgetting the-"

"Do you trust me?" he interrupts the string of thoughts you're blurting out in confusion.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, "I guess they're fine on their own. The blind leading the blind."

He chuckles lightly, "They'll be Welt's problem now sadly." He then leads you towards a secluded place up and near the beautiful shimmering skies.

"Woah, where did you find this place? The view's majestic!" You ask in astonishment, your eyes shining even brighter than the stars above.

"I think I've seen this place somewhere in his memories, and I thought I'd like to show it to you too..." He answered, his eyes wandering towards the sky. "I just realized that...all of these missions we go to...it was just- it was different..." He begins. "Right after you came and traveled with us...everything changed. You gave me more purpose in this life and I'm so grateful for the color you've spread in this world, in our world. Dire situations still give me hope and unwanted circumstances still give me the push to go on...all because of you. Going through all these expeditions and knowing you're there by my side, fills me with ease I've never felt before. You gave me a new home, a place of serenity and security...all in your arms. I know I've been blabbering too much, so I'll stop and get straight to the point..." He says as he slowly gets down on one knee, revealing the small velvet box he's been holding onto the whole time. Sweat dripped down his forehead and his palms began to get shaky despite the snow falling around you- that's the effect you have on him. You gasp as you realize, tears forming in your eyes. "I may not promise forever, but 'til the end of our lives...may I be yours and will you be mine?"

You then grabbed him by the collar to lift him and kissed him, lip to lip, skin to skin, as the fireworks began shooting up to the sky. "I don't want to spend the new year with you." You mumble in between kisses, the man in front of you then wrinkles his forehead in disappointment. "I want to spend my whole life with you..." you giggle as he sighs in relief.

"Happy New Year, my love..." he mutters, a faint blush tainting his pale skin. Click You look from the sides in surprise as you see the crew standing in awe.

"Sorry Dan Heng, we couldn't help it! We just had to..." March 7th says, still holding the camera up near her eye, and Caelus smiling at the two of you.

"Congratulations...I hope we still see you two after the wedding," Welt says while giving you a nod of approval.

"I hope not to see you all after this..." Dan Heng sighs, hiding a chuckle under his breath. With that, you feel a squeeze on your hand once more, and you're reminded that you're not alone anymore. He's forever yours, truly.

©nerinefy 2023-2024 all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate.

[sisaloofafump]

I can’t get enough of your tiny batblobs with their funky little arms. Do they ever grow GIANT or do they remain itty bitty?

Other examples: 1, 2, 3, 4.

Details & math:

He is most corporeal at the edges and in thinner parts like the ears and fingers. The eyes don't ever disappear but they can dim significantly or glow brightly.

His voice is modulated and doesn't come from a designated source. It is pseudo-telepathic. He can do his "hn"s without that however.

The arms can be as long as he wants to a max of 10 meters (typically sticking to under 1 meter and up to 3 for dramatics). Using a grapple gun mimics the arms and can be visibly interchangeable, but it doesn't actually act as an arm or have dexterous use of fingers.

(don't verify my math I only play-tested 3 scenarios) It's not that he doesn't get any bigger or less stable, he just has to reserve that for life-or-death-of-the-universe situations.

He can take a bunch of different shapes and can stretch out like a ferret if need be. However, there are limits:

Super tall = max width:height ratio of 1:20 (ears included) Super wide = max width:height ratio of 1:5 (ears included)

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

The very important human aspect:

The change takes place when he puts the cowl on.

Originally, the cowl was part of his physical suit but after a few years of working as batman it became more metaphysical. Now he only needs to mime putting a cowl on and by the time it's over his eyes, he has already mostly transformed.

This makes emergency changing while in civilian clothes much easier, but doesn't provide the protection from harm or grapple abilities that it does when he's in his suit underneath.

It's the same process to remove it. To do so requires an innate understanding of The Bat being a mask that Bruce wears, rather than an inseparable part of his identity (note: although I do think that Batman is an integral part of Bruce, the sheer cryptid nature of the blob is partially a separate entity). Family and friends can sometimes take it off him as well, but it varies:

Diana: Can remove it easily and see through the mask due to her innate abilities with truth magic

Clark: was the first person to be able to remove it, back when it was still transitioning from a physical to metaphysical object.

Dick: Was the first batkid to be able to but only gained the ability once he was Nightwing and it's still a struggle. Despite that, he does it often when arguing with Bruce

Jason: No matter how much he wants, the more he tries, the more elusive the mask gets

Tim: Could do it all along and does it fairly regularly when needing to talk to Bruce face-to-face. It got harder as he got deeper into being Robin but has gotten easier again over time

Stephanie: Was the first person after Tim to be able to do it and she found out she could early into knowing Batman. It came off so easily but was she so panicked by that fact that she's never done it since

Cassandra: Does it easily but gravely and only reserves it for the most extreme situations

Barbara: Has been able to do it for years but it's hard and avoids any situation that would make her do it

Duke: Could do it the easiest and quickest of all, with no hesitations what so ever. As of yet, he hasn't had the chance

Damian: Has never been able to and resents that fact

(Kate only could in dire situations. Helena and Harper aren't aware that it's something anyone could do, however Helena could trigger it by accident)

That's all my immediate thoughts!

[flamebearrel]

“But Kris, if I wanted to watch Anim vs. with all the different series how should I even go about it??”

It largely depends on the topics and cast you’re interested in seeing. The show is split into three subseries as well as the occasional standalone episode: Animator vs. Animation (the original created in 2006-7 by Alan Becker alone), Animation vs. Minecraft (the longest and most popular, shorts stemming off a standalone from 2015), and Animation vs. Education (the newest from 2023, visualizing high-level STEM concepts)

Personally, I think core AvA is required reading for anyone who has appreciation for past eras of the internet, UI, or principles and genres of animation. AvM and AvE are equal in quality but honestly you won’t appreciate them as much if you aren’t familiar with the topics they cover. Alan and his team do try to visually introduce things step by step, though, so you can at least get a general idea of what you’re looking at

Besides that, core AvA specifically follows the Hollow-Heads, hand-drawn stick figures created by the Animator, “noogai”/Alan. In particular you have The Chosen One (shortened to Chosen, Cho or TCO) and The Second Coming (aka Second, Sec, TSC or Orange). TSC is the de facto main character and the only one appearing in all three series, while TCO and the Animator are exclusive to the original.

The SticksFight squad - the four sticks originating from sticksfight.com and named after their colors - have developed distinct personalities as the main cast of AvM, but only take a collective side role in main AvA (Yellow has a slightly larger role than the others). Here’s a summary of their individual personalities so you know what to look for in their smaller appearances

Red - Impulsive and energetic, always the first to jump into action and with a soft heart for creatures and beasties. He’s a little simple when it comes to technical things, but excels with reading the people around him, then building off of their quirks. Since the rest of the group babies him a bit, he puts in extra physical work to prove he can hold his own. Red also tends to play around with new or out-of-the-box solutions - knowledge that extends to his pranks. Most ready to fight with his fists or use heavy-hitters like maces and clubs. (Good intro/focus eps: The Rediscovery, Texture Pack, Monster School, The Prank)

Blue - A mellow fellow! Blue is one with nature and focuses on farming, cooking, and potionology. Due to her pacifistic tendencies, Blue prefers to reason things out or find other solutions rather than fighting, but will throw herself into the face of danger for others. Otherwise she takes up ranged weapons like guns and bows. She’s detail- and aesthetic-oriented as well as graceful, but doesn’t often step outside what she knows. A bit of an addiction to nether wart, which is somewhere between an unusual snack and a drug. (Good intro/focus eps: Potions, The Piglin War, The Chef, Blue’s New Superpower)

Yellow - She loves more than anything to get down to the root of things, and that makes her the group’s engineer! …And a bit of a troublemaker, paying more attention to the thrill of a discovery than the consequences. Yellow tries to find fairness and justice for friend and foe alike. While they have a reliable, supportive demeanor, they’re also very peppy, excitable and tough with how they stand strong in dire situations. Often her fighting style takes place behind the scenes, using things like explosives or a command-casting staff. (Good intro/focus eps: The Roller Coaster, Command Blocks, Lucky Blocks, AvArcade Games)

Green - Originally the weakest on the team, but has since come into his own after a lot of reflex training (read: getting tossed around). Green has great adaptability to learning new techniques and getting creative, particularly with styles of music and architecture. He loves the spotlight and usually competes with the others or takes the chance to show off; however, he also cares deeply about welcoming in those he meets. Dashes and zips around all the time during battle, usually via fishing rod-grappling hook. (Good intro/focus eps: AvYouTube, Note Blocks, PvP, The Dolphin Kingdom)

If you’re just gonna watch the REQUIRED ones this is what I recommend:

AvA s1 (1-4, previously I-IV)

AvMinecraft (original)

AvYouTube

AvA s2 (5-8, previously “shorts” combining into V)

AvMath

AvA s3 (9-ongoing)

That way you get the introduction of both subseries, with how each establishes the cast/direction, as well as one standalone. I put vs. YT here since it best fits the theme imo but you could go with vs. Pokémon or vs. Arcade Games if you prefer

If you’re willing to take on AvM/the rest of the series this is pretty much the order of the timeline:

AvA s1

AvM (original)

AvYouTube

AvM shorts s1 (1-14)

AvLeague of Legends (required for an AvM character’s development)

AvM shorts s2 (15-19)

AvA s2

Other standalones

AvM shorts s3 (20-30)

AvE (ongoing)

AvA s3 (ongoing)

AvM shorts s4 (ongoing)

Or just follow my playlist!!!

[mschievousx]

now and then | b.b.

pairing: benedict bridgerton x ofc

summary: loraine silva always knew she was not normal. she loves unusual things. she loves her father's guns, horses, boxing, climbing a tree, falling from a tree, engineering, astronomy... oh, and a man eleven years older.

series masterlist

x. ten: live that way

it was the first time in a while that the sunlight touched her face and it did not hurt. she stirred awake, the light seemed to be poking her from sleep. raine tossed, pulling the sheets deeper to her.

"i was afraid you will not be here when i wake up."

his morning voice greeted her as he placed a hand on her head and played with her hair. ah yes, last night really did happen. she buried herself on his chest, taking in his natural smell.

she looked up at him, her lips grazing his collarbone as she spoke with a smile, "anthony and violet are going to kill us."

benedict chuckled lowly at her jest, "they will not."

she returned back to his chest, closing her eyes once again. he planted his face on top of her head, seemingly taking in her smell as well. this was it. these were the arms she has longed for—the comfort she has been seeking.

"i am too tired." her muffled voice resounded.

he planted a kiss on her for solace, "it is alright. i will be here."

raine pursed her lips, deciding if she should say anything about her grave situation later and ruin the moment or not. but as we have always known, she was a frank one. it would not be her if she wasn't.

"this may be the last time we will be together."

"then i will wait for you."

he replied with ease, professing confidence amidst the direness of everything around them.

raine was sure though—that the intensity of the situation has not sunk in on benedict yet. she was with him, alive and well right now. how easy it was to be lost in the blissfulness of the moment.

she slowly sat up, leaning for a kiss on his forehead as she removed herself from the sheets, "let us go. they will grow wary of our absence."

raine clothed herself as the man kept his eyes on her. she turned to him, instructing that he follow down after a couple of minutes to avoid suspicion from the family. she turned the knob, exiting the room silently.

as she looked up to walk, she was met with a viscount already staring curiously at her.

"what? it's my room. ho—how was the ball?" she said in a pitched voice, quite defensively, causing anthony to narrow his eyes at her.

━━━ ✦ ❘ ☽ 【❖】 ☾ ❘ ✦ ━━━

she ate quite the breakfast, treating it as if it was her last meal. at the very least, she was happy she ate with the bridgertons—the only family she has left.

after a meal for breakfast, she excused herself at once, quickly going to anthony's office with raphael in tow. they have been going back to back for strategies on what to do for more than two hours already, now settling in silence to let themselves take a breath. the colonel called for her out of the blue, the latter waiting for him to continue.

"lord high chancellor scott will be there."

she looked with confusion at that. raine was familiar of the man, yes, but she has not seen him ever.

"i do not know what he is like."

"raine, i have not told you one thing." he began, words laced with shame, "they took general's body."

in truth, she knew already. raphael would have done anything to bring her father to her even if a lifeless body. he would actually give his life to his superior since the general saved him before in the streets of homelessness too.

"i have figured, given that you returned alone without his remains. you would not have left if you could."

she tightly smiled at him, the most form of comfort they could achieve in this moment.

"it was him. he was there when they attacked our quarters, ordering his men." he revealed, regret in his voice on how he was not able to do anything to save the general in that time.

raine put her pen down, closing her eyes for a second before turning to him, "why are you telling me this just now?"

"i was debating myself whether i should." he replied with doubt. he knew how the girl can get mad easily sometimes, especially that concerning her family.

she stared out of nowhere, trying to think of something. an idea popped in her head as she spoke with a realisation, "we will use that to our advantage then."

"no, that's..." raphael seemed go have caught on what she was thinking. he showed his clear disagreement with her plan, "you will be charged for high treason."

"by questioning his person?" she scoffed at the idea of a soft high chancellor.

"by questioning his person, you are accusing him." the colonel retorted, his arms on his waist, thinking of other solutions as well.

"it is not an accusation if it is true."

"it is an accusation if we cannot prove it."

raine knew he was right. they could do nothing about it if they cannot prove it, "we can build the story around us, put the rest of the soldiers outside of it all."

he sat beside her on the couch, facing her calmly as if giving up, "they all knew what we were doing, raine. there was nothing like only the general and i. the whole troop knew the issue we found and the measures we were taking. they are all highly ranked men and were the most trusted by your father."

"i do not care." she said with a slam, staring him down with firm, "forty-six soldiers, raphael. forty-six."

despite her best efforts, a tear fell from her already luminous eyes. the thought that these men who should have been celebrated by their services are coming close to dishonor angers and pities her at the same time.

"i will not let you all die."

he placed a hand over hers, "we are soldiers. we have been prepared for this."

"not without dignity."

raine declared with might. she will make sure to turn the tables, and if it will not, she will fucking flip it over.

he could do nothing but nod slowly, accepting her point. he took a glimpse at his watch, ruffling the girl's hair as he stood up.

"it's noon."

she nodded, following the man outside the study, "gather them."

currently in the hallway, waiting for carriages after carriages to arrive, the second daughter caught sight of her and took her hand.

"raine, come. just for a while."

she followed the young woman up to her bedroom where penelope stands, waiting in anxiety. eloise gestured to the redhead as she offered.

"penelope can help you turn the people's favor to you."

getting a hint of what she was trying to say, raine tightly smiled at them, "lady whistledown?"

penelope stopped her tiny movements of unease as she turned to the silva, both of them asking her in chorus, "how did you know?"

"no," she ignored the question. she was a daughter of a general, of course she would know. she stepped towards the girl, addressing their idea to help, "i appreciate you both trying to help, but no. they knew of my father's activities and he was a general."

raine took the featherington's hands and held them softly, "my best bet is they know you are lady whistledown and is just letting you be for now since you have not attacked them directly."

"but you cannot go there like this." eloise voiced in distress and worry.

she did not realise that other people were being affected by her situation this much. the young silva thought she has managed to keep them off and away—enough that they would not need to worry. evidently, that was not the case.

"come here." and so, she placed each of her arms on the girls' shoulders, bringing them in on a tight hug. it may have been her imagination, but eloise let out a small sob as she wrapped her arms on her.

they exited the room after, descending it with begrudging steps. the carriages have arrived and are only waiting for them. the bridgertons gathered near the door to bid her farewell. she turned, addressing them for possibly the last time.

"i ask of you all, do not go anywhere near the palace."

the matriarch could not help herself but grab the girl, enveloping her in one of the warmest hugs the young one has ever received. violet kissed the top of her head, a gesture that says all will be well.

raine knew it was not going to be.

and so, she continued on her way, exiting the bridgertons' home to see the carriages lined up, all filled with soldiers. they waited for her to get in just as benedict came forward. he held her hand tightly, prompting her chin up as he caught her lips in his.

she tasted like heartache and war.

━━━ ✦ ❘ ☽ 【❖】 ☾ ❘ ✦ ━━━

the twelve carriages that contained the forty-six soldiers and loraine silva arrived at the front of the palace in a processional manner. a significant number of citizens have gathered. at the sight of the hottest topic of the town—the country, even—some were yelling in support to them and some against.

the viscountess, the colonel, and the major sat on the first carriage, the men exiting first. she followed, not sparing any look to the people. they could not affored to cheer nor smile. this was the deciding moment of their future.

raphael and raine entered the palace alone, the soldiers all lined up in a row outside, facing the people. they were greeted coldly and strictly by both royal guards and other military that she was sure must have interacted with her father at least once. they were guided into different rooms. she was given nothing but the wary and observing gazes of the unknown soldiers guarding her.

the colonel has been away for more than an hour now. she understood that they were interrogating him first, squeezing all the details before they would deal with her nuisance. not later than her own planning of her statements in her head, the door opened to reveal the man, head leveled properly. but, she could tell. that it was only his rank that made him still have the dignity to raise his head. however, the inner raphael? she could see him conceding and casting the head downwards.

she was prompted to stand up, them crossing each other as she left the room and walked towards where raphael came from. the doors opened to reveal the queen, brimsley behind, and the lord high chancellor with two other parliamentary members and two decorated generals, it seems.

raine sat across them all as lord scott did not waste time to begin his questions, "did you know of your father's treacherous plans against the crown?"

just by the first question, she already knew she wanted to shoot him. he was enjoying this, evidently on his tone.

"i did not."

he scoffed sarcastically at that, turning to the other members present as if gaining their attention, "i find it hard to believe, considering how close you both were, especially after the death of your mother and brother—god rest their souls."

it was a foul. mentioning them both amidst all of this was a great foul. she narrowed her eyes at him, firmly and armed as her voice sounded with confidence, increasing in volume.

"i did not know because there were no treacherous plans in the first place."

the members of the parliament leaned back slowly with their chins raised in an insulted manner. the two generals present turned to them with a curious look. ah, these generals are not involved in this.

lord scott noticed their interest piqued and hurried to push the matter to the young lady, "major general silva was reported of having questionable communications within the military force. we were monitoring him for months."

he continued to reveal the story he has crafted so well against them, "in the most recent event, he was caught exchanging fire with the british military, resisting in the quarters that must have served as their unofficial office for such activities."

she sat up straight with a piercing look at him, offense clear intended on her tone, "and who can attest to this?"

"girl, you question the credibility of the sources of the highest governments of the crown?!" he bellowed, sitting at the edge of his seat as the other members gestured for him to calm down.

"yes, in fact, i do."

"loraine, address the assertions."

the queen spoke for the first time. ah, she was not involved either. raine could tell she was trying to help, trying to get her out of this.

"your majesty," the girl began, turning to the queen with respect in contrast to the lord high chancellor, "my father was not a traitor and neither am i or raphael."

"where is the quarters where armand was unfortunately killed?" she asked outright.

the young silva could see right through the queen's plans. her majesty has conceded the matters of the girl's father. there was no saving his legacy—he was not saved already. it was a lost cause.

charlotte focused on his offspring, saving her from this is the only thing she could do for the family. and fortunately, the girl looked like she did not know anything.

raine had no words to answer at all. all the planning they did, all the stories she prepared—they went to the drain in just one question.

the queen waved her hand, the footman understanding her language. he opened the door and there enters raphael. he sat on the other chair beside the girl as charlotte continued.

"colonel montague has admitted to all suspicions." at the mention, raine turned to the man instantly, looking at him in surprise. the queen continued, "your lack of knowledge in the basic information of their activities suggests that you were indeed oblivious to the acts of treachery to the crown."

the girl glared at the queen, completely opposing her idea of helping. she declared clearly, word per word in firmness, "there was no betrayal from our end."

she clutched the couch, anger rising at their refusal to listen and acknowledge her side. other than being known for her unceasing confessions to the second bridgerton son, raine is also infamous for her hatred and passive-agressiveness.

"the colonel has copies of multiple reports that were altered to provide misinformation and cause mayhem in the military communication." her voice maintained the strength of her argument, "they were investigating it for months, even during my debut. we can call people as witness—"

raine held her tongue in time. she does not wish to put people on the government's eyes anymore. she swiftly dismissed the previous idea, continuing her previous point.

"the night they were ambushed on the way to the ball... tell them, raphael."

she turned to the other man who stayed silent the whole time, beckoning him to talk about what he witnessed in all actuality. however, the latter refused to utter a single word. she furiously turned back to the high officials.

"he saw the british insignia—the very people my father promised to protect the crown with." the young one spat the words with absolute hate, pointing her finger to the high chancellor, "and in fact, when they attacked my father in the quarters, you were there lord scott, were you not?!"

"you dare declare such accusation when you do not even know its location!" lord scott raised his voice, growling in her disrespect, "we are not here to address the matters of your father. he was a traitor. you are here to be questioned about your involvement in the said treason!"

raphael moved, raising his head to the officials with a determined voice, "i have conceded to everything. i have divulged all you wanted to know. the girl is entirely unaware of our activities!"

"oh, stop making her look like a child!" the high chancellor sneered at him, looking at loraine with sarcasm, "the lady has been raised by a general. everyone knows of your physical skills and marksmanship, taught by your very own father since you were young."

he stood up with authority, slamming his words with distaste. he stepped forwards as he pointed down a finger to stress his point. the young silva's eyes darkened at that, her mind going blank as he continue.

"there is no need to stray far from the truth."

he was too loud for her, his words biting her. she recognised this tension, this atmosphere. this is the battle. this is the war.

"you grew up mostly with him, taught everything by him, discussed plans with him, strategised with him," he paused, as if gathering his breath before he spat with malice.

"and committed high treason with him!"

raine stood up at once, unclasping her gun from her thigh in the process as she shot the man on his chest twice, his blood getting on her dress and features. the queen jumped and recoiled at the sound, brimsley nearing her instantly. the rest of the members jumped away and the generals reached for their guns.

loraine silva has shot the lord high chancellor.

one of the generals opted to reach for the actively dying lord scott, his hands on his chest as his mouth froze and jaw locked in neural shock.

the girl turned to the general and pointed her gun at him, "help him and see what follows."

he slowly backed with the queen gesturing for him to stay down as well. her majesty understood the young lady. she was not a threat to anyone else at the room as long as they were not a threat to her.

she walked to near the chancellor that leaned back helplessly with blood on the foamed chair, "you were right about everything but one."

she did not dropped her gun, still aiming it to his head now with clear dark intent. her voice was neither loud nor small, neither hard nor soft. it was the kind that would cause you to squirm.

"we did not betray the crown. we did not betray its people."

her voice did not declare war. it proclaimed the ending.

"and if we did," she leaned down to him as if whispering, "none of you will ever know."

raine stood straight up, sneering at the chancellor below her, "we would not have been as stupid as you."

she pulled the trigger thrice more—with no mercy or pity, with no regards of the people around her. seeing him finally stop breathing, she dropped her arm down, still gripping the gun hard.

"it would have done you good to know that i have his patience as well."

by the remnants of her rage, the future became clear—it's going to fall apart.

"your majesty," raine turned to the queen. the two generals behind her went for their guns seeing the girl's back on them. charlotte raised her hand immediately, halting the actions of both men as the silva continued, "the reports and all related documents are in the care of viscount bridgerton."

she dipped her head down in a bow for a few respectful seconds before standing back upright, feet together, leaning in a martial manner.

"i apologise for the mess, aunt lottie."

raine walked away, raphael following closely. he wanted to say something so badly, but was fearful of disturbing the already unstable state of the girl.

they exited the palace with no other encounters, likely because of her majesty's intercession. reaching outside the fence, the people tripling in number than earlier. they all yelled unintelligibly at the sight of them. her father's soldiers turned about face at their arrival. it was obvious that they heard the gunshots—her father's silver flintlock pepperbox has a hell of a sound.

gilbert returned raphael's gun, the latter cocking it immediately up in the air before firing. the crowd silenced in chorus as the girl inhaled deeply.

"each and every one of you has seen my father. major general silva had always been for the people."

while her father carried the rank of a major general, he was not disconnected with the people. yes, he was still distant for security purposes, but for a man his rank, he willingly shook hands with the people that deserved it.

and, armand often told her that he gets to shake more hands of the commoners and the general public than the officials.

"he was not a traitor. they have blamed their own treachery to my father, killed my father, and killed his loyal men—men that were all defending the crown and its people. this is what has become of our society. i do not care if you are busy with the social season and of other pleasures. this should be your duty as a person behind the crown."

she walked at the center, nearing them all so that they would hear her words better—words that they shall engrave in their hearts and minds, etched in their very soul.

"i stand before you all, not only as his daughter, but as someone who will never sit whilst injustice is apparent."

the viscountess silva's voice deepened with conviction. her eyes were flaring with truth and patriotism. she caught everyone's gaze and held it until it hurt.

"one who will not cover her ears against the screams of the dead."

"one who will not close her eyes in the midst of people abusing their power."

"one who will never sleep soundly whilst there are bodies of the wronged under each of our beds. "

all of her will went to her voice as she declared her final words to the public.

"this is the age of awakening. do not go gentle into that good night!"

raine continued to speak in the words coded by her father, the late major general, the superior of all. the forty-six soldiers answering with equal strength.

"min koimitheís ísycha ekeíni tin kalí nýchta!"

"orgí, orgí enántia sto svísimo tou fotós!"

they placed their right fists on top of their heart as the young lady and raphael found the royal guards and other military personnel. there was no escaping their situation now. what they did ensured only one path, and that was their head to the execution block.

the queen has ordered to not execute them on the spot. she reasoned that it would mean making them martyrs on the eyes of the people and they want to avoid that—although in truth, she pushed for them to have a private execution because that is what the two wanted.

viscountess loraine silva and colonel raphael montague turned about face to the rest of the soldiers. the latter saluted in uniform to the colonel, him returning it. they were saluting their ranks for the last time. she saluted the men this time, and by her surprise, the soldiers then turned to the young lady and saluted to her.

they were not supposed to salute back to her. she has no official rank.

raphael nudged her, prompting the girl to dismiss the salute as did the soldiers. a warm smile settled on her lips before both of them turned to the guards.

this is it. there is no going back.

and just as raine entered the vehicle to transport them to the cells, she completely missed the familiar head standing out from the crowd like a sore thumb despite her telling him not to attend.

once again, he could do nothing but hold his head down and shut his eyes at the end of the day. his palms formed a fist, biting his lips intensely as tears graced the floor under him.

every storm runs out of rain.

taglist: @aadu2173 @imgondeletedis @pumkiinpasties @rebleforkicks @perseny @everavenclaw @datingbtr @peetahpahkah @idek-what-to-put @aysamuka

[nayziiz]

Shadows | LN4

Summary: [Mafia] In the face of dire financial troubles, Lando receives a desperate plea from his father to unearth a lucrative solution within the family business. Fueled by the pressure to rescue his family from ruin, Lando stumbles upon a seemingly perfect venture—using luxury cars as a facade for the clandestine world of drug trafficking. With the unexpected partnership of Amelia Rossi, his father's best friend's daughter, Lando believes he has found the ideal accomplice. However, as the Norris family collides with the ambitious Russells in a ruthless bid to establish their dominance, the perilous path Lando has chosen places not only his newfound enterprise at stake but also entangles Amelia in the dangerous crossfire that unfolds.

Warning: Violence, drugs, blood, smut, fluff, guns, pregnancy

Pairing: Lando Norris x OC (Amelia Rossi) - appearances from other drivers

Masterlist

Chapter 16

News of Steve and George Russell's arrest sent shockwaves through the underworld and the upper echelons of society alike. The headlines blared the downfall of the notorious crime family, striking fear into the hearts of those who had once cowered under their influence. For Lando, Amelia, and Adam, it was a bittersweet victory, a crucial step in their quest for justice and redemption.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting an orange hue over the skyline of São Paulo, Lando paced the villa's terrace, his mind swirling with a whirlwind of emotions. Steve's arrest marked a significant milestone in their plan to dismantle the Russell empire, but it also brought a heightened sense of urgency to their mission. With the Russells on the defensive, they would stop at nothing to protect their secrets and retaliate against those who had dared to challenge their reign.

Inside the villa, Amelia sat by the window, her fingers tracing the contours of her growing sixteen week old belly as she watched the city come alive with the glow of streetlights and the hum of nightlife. The weight of their situation pressed heavily upon her shoulders, the reality of impending motherhood mingling with the uncertainty of their future. But amidst the chaos, one thing remained constant – her unwavering faith in Lando and their love, a beacon of hope in the darkness that threatened to consume them.

Lando's heart swelled with love and pride as he beheld the sight of Amelia's burgeoning baby bump. It was a tangible reminder of the new life growing within her, a symbol of their shared journey and the unbreakable bond they shared. He approached her with a tender smile, his eyes alight with warmth and affection.

“Hey there, little peanut.” He murmured, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. “How's our little one doing today?”

Amelia looked up at him, her eyes shining with a mixture of joy and anticipation.

“I think peanut's doing just fine. You want to feel?” She replied, reaching out to caress his cheek.

Lando nodded eagerly, crouching down beside her. He pressed his hand against her belly, feeling the subtle movements of their unborn child beneath his fingertips. It was a moment of pure magic, a connection forged in the silent whispers of their shared dreams and hopes for the future.

“I can't believe we're going to be parents. It feels like just yesterday we were kids ourselves.” Lando murmured, his voice filled with wonder.

Amelia smiled, her gaze softening with affection.

“I know.” She agreed, leaning into his touch. “I really want to go home, Lan.”

“I know, baby. Just a few more weeks so we’re sure it’s safe to go back, then we’re on the first flight out.” Lando's words were filled with reassurance, but Amelia couldn't shake the feeling of longing for the familiarity and security of home.

The past months had been filled with uncertainty and danger, and while they had found temporary refuge in their secluded hideaway, it was far from the comfort of their own home.

“I need to have this baby back home.” She admitted softly, her voice tinged with homesickness.

“You will, just a few more weeks.” Lando murmured, wrapping his arms around her in a comforting embrace.

“I miss my Mom, believe it or not.” She sighed, resting her head against his chest.

As the details of her passing unfolded, it became clear that Marilyn, Amelia’s mother, had been in the wrong place at the wrong time when Harold was shot and killed. She had been going about her day, perhaps running errands or attending to her own affairs, when fate cruelly intervened.

“My father said my Nan sent down a whole box of that chocolate you like so much.” Lando informed Amelia, attempting to change the subject.

As Lando attempted to shift the conversation away from the sombre topic of Marilyn's passing, his mention of the chocolate brought a faint smile to Amelia's lips. It was a small gesture, but a welcome distraction from the weight of her recent loss. The thought of indulging in a sweet treat, especially one that held sentimental value, offered a brief respite from the grief that loomed heavy in the air.

As Lando stepped out of the room to make the call, he couldn't shake the sense of unease that had settled in his chest. The distance from home weighed heavily on both him and Amelia, amplifying the usual challenges of pregnancy and adding an extra layer of complexity to their situation. With each passing day, the longing for the familiar comforts of home grew stronger, tugging at their hearts and fueling a deep-seated yearning for the safety and security they had left behind.

With a heavy sigh, Lando dialled his father's number, his mind swirling with a myriad of concerns and uncertainties. He needed guidance, reassurance, anything to ease the burden of responsibility that weighed so heavily upon him. As the call connected, Lando's voice was laced with a hint of apprehension, a reflection of the tumultuous emotions that churned within him.

“Hey, Dad.” He began, his words tinged with a mixture of relief and anxiety. “We need to come home.”

Lando's plea hung heavy in the air as he awaited his father's response, his heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. He knew the risks involved in returning home prematurely, but the thought of Amelia enduring the challenges of pregnancy without the support of family was unbearable to him.

“I understand, son.” Adam's voice resonated through the phone, his tone weighed down by the gravity of their situation. “But we can't afford to take any chances. You know how dangerous it is right now.”

Lando's jaw tightened as he absorbed his father's words, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. He couldn't shake the feeling of helplessness that gnawed at him, knowing that he couldn't provide Amelia with the comfort and reassurance she so desperately needed.

“Dad, she’s pregnant.” Lando insisted, his voice tinged with a hint of desperation. “She needs Mum, and Savannah, and anyone who can just support her through this. Please, Dad. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.”

There was a brief moment of silence on the other end of the line, the weight of their conversation hanging heavily between them. Adam's sigh echoed through the phone, a testament to the internal struggle he faced in balancing his desire to protect his family with the undeniable need for support and comfort.

The gravity of the situation weighed heavily in the space between Lando and his father, the urgency in his voice underscoring the importance of his plea. Adam's silence spoke volumes, the weight of his own concerns mirrored in the sombre tone of his response.

“I understand, Lando. I'll arrange for a secure escort to ensure Amelia's safety.” Adam replied, his voice tinged with a mixture of apprehension and determination. "But I need you to promise me that you'll prioritise her safety above all else. There’s a baby to think of now.”

“I promise, Dad. Thank you. It means everything to us.” Lando affirmed, a sense of relief washing over him at the prospect of finally bringing Amelia back home.

As the call ended, Lando felt a sense of resolve settle within him, a renewed determination to do whatever it took to ensure Amelia's well-being.

Lando entered the room, his heart buoyed by the prospect of bringing some relief to Amelia amidst the uncertainty they faced. As he approached her, he found her sitting on the edge of the bed, a mix of anticipation and apprehension etched on her features.

“Hey, baby.” He greeted softly, taking her hands in his as he sat down beside her. “I've got some news.”

“What is it?” Amelia looked up at him, her eyes reflecting a blend of curiosity and concern.

“We're going home. Dad’s making all the arrangements now and he’ll let me know once everything has been sorted.” Lando announced, a flicker of excitement dancing in his eyes. 

“Really?” A wave of relief washed over Amelia, her tense shoulders relaxing as the weight of uncertainty began to lift. 

Lando nodded, a tender smile gracing his lips. Tears welled in Amelia's eyes, a mix of gratitude and overwhelming emotion swelling within her.

“Thank you, Lando. Thank you for everything.” She choked as she tried to hold back her tears.

Wrapping her in a warm embrace, Lando held her close, his heart swelling with love and determination.

As the jet's door swung open, the familiar sights and sounds of London greeted Lando and Amelia, signalling their return to the place they called home. Max Fewtrell, Lando's trusted childhood friend, stood at the ready by the armoured SUV, his expression a mix of relief and anticipation as he awaited their arrival. With practised ease, Lando emerged first, swiftly retrieving their luggage before returning to assist Amelia down the steps of the jet.

Max's eyes widened in surprise as he caught sight of Amelia's unmistakable baby bump, a visible symbol of the new chapter awaiting the couple. His expression softened into a warm smile as he approached, offering a hand to help Amelia onto solid ground once more.

“Welcome back. Looks like I arrived just in time to see the next generation of troublemakers in the making.” Max greeted, his voice laced with genuine warmth and excitement.

“Thanks, Max. Flip, have I missed you.” Amelia chuckled softly, a hint of exhaustion mingling with the overwhelming sense of gratitude flooding her senses.

With Max's help, they made their way to the waiting SUV, ready to embark on the next leg of their journey home. As they settled into the familiar comforts of the vehicle, a sense of hope and anticipation filled the air, a testament to the unwavering bond shared between friends and the promise of new beginnings on the horizon.

As they settled into the SUV, Max couldn't contain his curiosity, prompting him to broach the topic that had been swirling in his mind since he laid eyes on Amelia's baby bump.

“So, a baby?” Max inquired, his tone a mix of surprise and genuine interest.

“Yep, a little surprise that kept our spirits up while we were away.” Lando's smile widened at Max's reaction, a flicker of pride evident in his eyes.

“How far along are you?” Max's eyebrows shot up in amazement.

“Just over sixteen weeks.” Amelia replied, her voice filled with a mix of excitement and tenderness as she glanced at Lando, beaming with impending fatherhood pride in the passenger seat.

“Wow, you two were away for a long time.” Max remarked, a hint of playful teasing in his tone.

“Yeah, yeah. Missed you too, mate. But now that we're back, we've got some catching up to do.” Lando chuckled in response, reaching over to give Max a friendly pat on the shoulder.

“Your parents are going to do somersaults about their new grandbaby.” Max remarked, causing both Lando and Amelia to chuckle in response.

Almost an hour later, Max pulled up in front of the Norris family home and almost instantly, Lando’s family came rushing out from his father, to his mother, to his sisters and brother. Lando got out in a haste to open the back door of the SUV for Amelia to step out.

As Amelia stepped out of the SUV, she was greeted by the enthusiastic embrace of Lando's family. His sisters, in particular, were ecstatic to see her and the baby bump. They showered her with hugs and affection, their excitement palpable as they welcomed her into their home.

“Amelia, you're glowing!” Lando's mother exclaimed, her eyes shimmering with joy at the sight of her son's partner.

“We've been waiting for this moment for so long.” Flo, one of Lando's sisters chimed in, her smile radiant with happiness.

Amelia felt overwhelmed by the warmth and love emanating from Lando's family. Despite the challenges they had faced, being surrounded by such genuine affection filled her with a sense of comfort and belonging. She exchanged grateful smiles with Lando, silently acknowledging that they were exactly where they were meant to be.

“Careful, girls. There’s special cargo in that belly.” Lando’s mother, Cisca, warned her daughter as Adam wrapped his arms around his son and kept him tight against him.

As Lando's family continued to fuss over Amelia and the baby bump, his mother's gentle reminder brought a sense of protective unity to the moment. Cisca's words served as a subtle reminder to everyone that Amelia and the unborn baby were precious cargo, deserving of extra care and consideration.

Adam's embrace around Lando spoke volumes, conveying both love and a silent promise of protection. In that moment, Lando felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for his family's unwavering support. They had been through so much together, and yet, here they were, embracing the future with open arms and loving hearts.

With his father's reassuring presence anchoring him, Lando felt a renewed sense of determination to ensure the safety and well-being of Amelia and their growing family.

“You did a great job, son, keeping her safe.” Adam acknowledged as he whispered into Lando’s ear.

“Thanks, Dad. And, thank you for your help.” Lando told his Dad.

“Amelia, dear, what do you need?” Cisca asked Amelia as she led her into the house.

As Lando and Amelia made their way into the house, the warmth of familiarity enveloped them. The comforting scent of home-cooked food filled the air, triggering a wave of nostalgia and anticipation for the meal ahead. Despite the challenges they had faced during their time away, being back in the familiar embrace of family brought a sense of peace and reassurance.

“Just a hot shower for now.” Amelia chuckled, keeping her exhaustion at bay.

“You do that, sweetie. I have a full roast going at the moment. I assumed you kids haven’t had a real home cooked meal in a while.” Cisca assured Ameli and Lando.

“That sounds lovely, Mum.” Lando smiled. “I’ll take Amelia up and get her settled and we’ll come down for dinner.”

As had become a norm in their relationship, Lando ran the shower allowing it to heat up for her. Amelia caught Lando's gaze lingering on her as she undressed, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Despite the familiarity of their relationship, there was still an undeniable spark between them that never failed to ignite a rush of warmth and affection.

“Not as hot as you thought I’d be pregnant?” She wondered, suddenly self-conscious like she had been all the times he paraded his model ex-flings.

“The exact opposite, actually. You’re beautiful, Amelia.” He assured her and then proceeded to place a loving kiss on her lips.

With a teasing glint in her eyes, Amelia stepped into the shower, feeling the warm water cascade over her skin, washing away the weariness of their journey and leaving her feeling refreshed and invigorated. She closed her eyes, relishing in the sensation, until she felt Lando's presence behind her, his strong arms enveloping her in a gentle embrace.

As he began to massage shampoo into her hair, his touch was tender and intimate, sending shivers of pleasure down her spine. She leaned back against him, letting herself melt into his embrace, feeling his heartbeat against her back as they stood together beneath the soothing stream of water.

In that moment, with the comforting sound of the shower filling the room and Lando's reassuring presence surrounding her, Amelia couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude for the man standing beside her. Despite the challenges they had faced, their bond remained unbreakable, a testament to the strength of their connection and the depth of their love. And as she turned to meet his gaze, her heart swelled with a profound sense of contentment, knowing that she was exactly where she was meant to be - finally out of the shadows.

[the-nysh]

Oh Meryl.....:') This will be a longpost commentary on the events of Trimax vol5 & 6 primarily from her perspective, so let's get into it!

Alright, so remember the foreshadowing in Meryl's line about seeing Vash's 'entire enigmatic past' from Trimax vol3?!

Well in Trimax vol5 all that becomes true! When getting 'touched by an angel' directly connects her to Vash's memories through contact with his feathers, she gets a front row seat to personally SEE, feel, and experience ALL the worst pain and trauma Vash has endured over his functionally immortal lifetime of horrors!!! Bearing witness to just how heavy a burden of sorrow and torment he's suffered carried with him that she's always wondered about; now she knows the full context of everything.

From witnessing his lone struggles as a younger child first learning how to use a gun, grinding through all his bloody mistakes, losses, and failures, to the worst calamity that he, as a transformed nonhuman 'gun' himself, became capable of unleashing on the planet: the terrifying destruction of July itself.

As Vash regains his lost memories of July through a meltdown of grief, regrets and revelations of his own (how firing his power inadvertently killed everyone he knew and loved), all at once, his pain while reliving those horrors of the past resonates to become her pain. (Remember this for vol6!)

And just to grab a mic to reiterate, Meryl is only a normal human woman here, with no special powers or superhuman training to prepare her how to handle any of this! (This disaster exceeds her realm of expertise!) She’s also the only one who gets to see, understand, and resonate with the entirety of Vash’s pain and feelings on such a direct, private, and literally mind-melding intimate level of connection. (Linking the human with the inhuman/monstrous.) So of course she’s terrified! Being thrust into such an unprecedented dangerous situation, witnessing inescapable horrors beyond human comprehension, AND by getting a very real demonstration of Vash’s power (on the verge of exploding out of control) and his transformed inhumanity RIGHT UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL!  

So it’s truly a testament to her mental fortitude and resilience that she didn’t just break from the information overload or succumb to the level of despair and terror right there--no, she bravely keeps her wits about her, and despite everything she remains on Vash’s side, shooting first to defend him (aiming right for Legato using the gun she picked up from Zazie's corpse) as the one who breaks the multiple-way stalemate between all their enemies instead! GO MERYL!!!!

(It's why this moment's probably one of my top favorites in the whole manga!!! ;o;) Cause the entire time, even while under severe mental distress, crawling through the rubble with his powers and feathers surging everywhere, Vash had kept her safe and physically unharmed within his wings, and then her first action upon surfacing was to take charge to protect him in turn!! I love it; cause even during such a dire emergency and all the mental stress she's put under while in the heat of the moment, her faith and dedication (to fight without hesitation at his side) still aim true~

And even after Legato critically pushes the crisis from bad to worse, to the point Vash is provoked into almost firing his Angel Arm in feral-retaliation to stop him (holy foreshadowing of their future duel!) with Meryl literally stuck in the middle of all this chaos (while shocked, powerless, and terrified--bless her heart) as Vash struggles to regain control of himself...

(Note: even Wolfwood was blown back by the surging energy, but with Meryl literally RIGHT THERE under Vash, it's amazing she didn't get hit being that close to him.) ...she STILL doesn't run away from him once the dust settles, and is in fact the first one to approach him in concern to ask if he's ok after...

(So whew, a relieved round of applause for Meryl remaining strong in the active face of so much strife!!) The immediate aftermath of this whole experience gives her the tangible proof and perspective from Vash to understand and fear that Knives--as his twin in power but having the actual intent to destroy the world behind it, is fully capable of ending humanity's future.

Of course, the experience doesn't also leave her unscathed without any lasting mental scars to cope with...as Trimax vol6 so graciously shows us how things will always Get Worse before they can get better...

Where sure enough, she's already having difficultly sleeping with night terrors and loss of appetite--it's honestly no surprise the terrible experience has given her symptoms of ptsd she'd be made of something unbelievably superhuman if she weren't affected, and consulting with Wolfwood unfortunately doesn't offer her anything (helpful) she doesn't already know...(cause at this point, she's literally seen more of Vash, especially the amount suddenly exposed to all at once, than Wolfwood could possibly know how to advise her on. He's still struggling with plenty of his own fears vs loyalties towards Vash himself.)

Only that he stresses the importance she weighs her options now to make the decision to quit her job while she still can (a choice and the freedom to 'get out' that Wolfwood comparatively doesn't have under direct orders from Knives) to remove herself and Milly from getting further involved with Vash--specifically the life-threatening danger he poses as a living weapon (despite his best intentions and character as a person!) set to explode with the firepower to raze the world--if Meryl values her life.

But truly, how does Meryl feel about that? What does she value and care for more, that'd be most important to her--her life or her job? Is following Vash (surveilling him for 'risk management') more than just a job to her at this point? What about her feelings towards him as a person--the man she already knows, vs her need to reconcile with the truth (that he's not even human!) that she didn't know until just recently. Is the level of imminent danger and risk she's putting herself into, now that she fully understands how dire, truly worth it (for him) this time? And if she still truly cares for him, does it even matter what he is? Despite any pros or cons and conflicting feelings about it, which will ultimately remain the stronger reason compelling her choice to stay?

Whew! She has many things to evaluate and consider going forward, especially if she wants to continue at his side. (And as Wolfwood stresses, continuing puts Milly at risk too, so that's even more weight/responsibility to balance on Meryl's shoulders.) Including processing the very nature of her fears--to identify what it is that truly terrifies her (is it truly Vash or something else?) before she can hope to face or overcome them. Before this biggest hurdle tips the scales to debilitate her resolve or outright prevents her from continuing her job at all. For now, she thinks and relates back to the firepower she gained when she first fired a gun...

And ah, HERE IT IS, she recalls what's scared her the most from her own past memories: "I gained the power of death at my fingertips. It was terrifying." Cause the first time she ever shot a person and realized the weight of the power she holds, she hated it. Shocked, collapsed, paralyzed, coming undone in the streets, closing herself off from others, regretting her action terribly... It was all too much. (Sound...familiar to the guilt and regrets of someone else we know? Meryl's shooting style is also notably non-lethal...because she too doesn't like to kill! When her first time wielding 'death' with her Derringers upset her this badly that she needed to adjust to be able to continue her job that required arming herself with this type of power...)

So remember when she resonated with the pain of Vash's memories? Seeing when he first struggled learning how to use a gun too, and all the blood and loss that accompanied it? However...his experiences didn't just end there, with only his first time shooting a person.....cause the first time he shot his real power (without him knowing what would happen) he caused the destruction of an entire city, killing everyone he loved in it! He didn't just 'gain the power of death at his fingertips,' he literally BECAME it, armed with the power to end the world. Hating and regretting his action so terribly, the catastrophe traumatized him with amnesia and led to a full-blown meltdown in grief and despair once he finally remembered. With Meryl there, witnessing and feeling all of it along with him. (His pain became her pain; his trauma became hers...)

That the sheer magnitude of wielding that kind of terror, as an intrinsic, inseparable part of himself (unlike a handheld gun you can choose to put down; he can't), let alone carrying the fear of it going out of control again if he's not careful, is indescribable. And if Meryl can now understand the gravity of that in relation to her own gun experiences (when the memory of firing her Derringers was already enough crushing weight for her to fear) then as the peace-loving person she knows him to be, who's always tried his hardest not to kill anyone, the crushing multitudes she knows he must feel now upon recovering his memories filled with so much death unleashed by his own hands must be unbearable. Feeling precisely just how much MORE terrifying and overwhelming the burden must be for him. It makes her wonder HOW can he still even bring himself to pull the trigger?!

Just look at Meryl's collapsed posture, it's the same she felt in her own past experiences...only this time it's directed in relation towards him--almost expressed in his place for the crushing weight he must feel. She's outright screaming/crying/bawling for him in empathy for the pain he must feel every time he's forced to fight and shoot someone with so much baggage behind it. Oh Meryl....:') (This is probably the strongest we've seen her cry for him...and it certainly won't be the last she cries in concern to relieve the pain of his burden.)

And Meryl, watching him fight on regardless, becomes struck and speechless for another reason, as she realizes how much his incredible strength and fortitude allow him to push past his unbearable pain to continue his job: "I felt...his determination is even stronger than the regret he carries."

Which is true, for the same stronger feeling that compelled him to stop at nothing, despite being on the verge of total collapse bearing his regrets of July, when he grit and forced himself to continue on his mission to save her from the Dragon's Nest. :') This is how he does it; how he continues to fight for what's important. (And yes she was that important, as the thought of losing her like his loved ones at July, is what fueled his determination back then to keep going.)

However, the struggle is never easy, as Vash, for his own part, masked behind his new goggle-edged glasses and kind Rem-like smiles 'as usual,' has not been coping well behind closed doors at all. (That Meryl could even sense an air of unusually 'off' distant/detached/avoidant behavior from him that she asks Milly about it.) We see him immersing himself in thousands of rounds of (non-lethal) target practice til his hand bleeds, and when drilling that level of focus + exposure isn't enough to take the edge off, he visits a church during service to hear a sermon on forgiveness...only for him to deem it hopeless there's no possible release from his sins when he can't even forgive himself, and there's even evidence he'd been drinking in not-quite-so savory (healthy or responsible) ways--unsettling even Wolfwood that something's uncannily off with him. (All being different attempted coping methods to drown out and escape the pain of his past regrets, but even Vash knows it's impossible now to forget...)

So all it takes is one slip-up when he's depressed off his game for everything to tumble into a trainwreck... Where Meryl seeing him block a bullet with his powers (instead of his usual self-aware dodging?) triggers all that terror to come flooding back into a panic attack.

Where it's truly unfortunate (and oh it hurts...) as an accident, something involuntary--a messy, instinctual reaction completely beyond either of their control. Cause Meryl didn't anticipate her ptsd to manifest and incapacitate her like this! that a single flash of his feathers would remind her of Everything--of all the worst horrors those powers are capable of when unleashed, the weaponized death and terror it represents, and the very moment she felt and experienced all of it while trapped powerless and panicked to do anything... No no no, returning to that headspace is horrible; it's all still too fresh to relive and TOO MUCH trauma for a human like her to bear; she couldn't help coming undone in the streets in a far worse way than she's ever had before (and I don't blame her.)

And Vash didn't mean to publically out himself as a nonhuman 'monster' to everyone either, when tensions were already high following Knives' mass murders for them to link the same culpability towards him, while he's still struggling to get a handle on his newly awakened powers too--ohshit indeed when they suddenly manifest and the truth breaches containment freaking everybody out in a witch-hunting mob of scorn, fear, misunderstandings, and hatred. (Ouch...)

What's more, Vash probably didn't even know Meryl had seen his memories, or had been affected by his trauma to such an overwhelming degree--since the transfer happened more as an autonomous side effect of his powers activating rather than anything he purposely intended....(once again, unintended consequences beyond his control; he never meant to cause any of this harm!!) So from his perspective he probably doesn't fully understand how to interpret her distress (apart from the crowd's?!) or know what to do to help. Cause reactions from strangers are one thing to bear, but if he sees her reaction to him--and his nonhuman display, as anything like theirs...then it's so much worse cause it's Meryl, who's known and been with him since the beginning. She's someone important he cares for...and now she's hurt and visibly scared from yet again another mistake he can't undo. ohno ohno he knows he messed up...

(Plus poor Milly has no context to understand what's wrong, or why Meryl's so upset either, since she'd been knocked out during the later parts of the Dragon's Nest to know what happened. So now she's alarmed and concerned trying to process why everything's suddenly gone to shit, anchoring Meryl the best she can, while shaken by the pain and cruelty Vash endures in such a situation masked with a smile...)

Despite the stones thrown by the crowd (nooo~) Vash's first priority concern is to run straight over to check on Meryl...

*And here's where I scream bloody murder* Cause that single flinch--from reaching towards her with that arm too, probably hurts him more than any of those stones thrown at him in hatred and revulsion that he's a monster. Cause to him it probably reads as a perceived rejection from Meryl (noooo~), and the amount he's hurt from realizing he's the one who hurt her this way....ohhhhh his crushing guilt must be heart-shattering...;A;

But there's no time, as before Meryl's even ready to speak or clarify how she feels, the choice she previously had on whether she wants to leave or stay is taken from her as Vash is the one who's forced to leave her instead. :')) The only thing Vash can do is repeatedly apologize as he runs away he can't even say goodbye--Wolfwood has to say that for him...and admit to Wolfwood how much he 'really feels like crying.'

(And once again poor Milly, left with no other explanations, can only read how much his pained empty mask of a smile has broken...)

What sucks even more, is knowing how much Meryl had already empathized with his pain (she could already feel that strongly for him!) and being in no condition to explain herself or her fears to him, once her panic subsides, she's bound to feel that much more terrible with guilt from realizing how her reaction (especially her flinch) had unintentionally hurt and pushed him away....leading towards a bad result she simply couldn't help and had no power to change...what a disaster.

But is someone as usually brave and tenacious like Meryl going to let that be the end of it? Broken on a disastrous parting and painful misunderstanding (she never meant to 'reject' him!!!) she literally had no say over? What of her brand of determination--especially towards what she feels (and decides) is most important, becoming stronger than the pain and regrets she carries? (Just like Vash! Can she find it within her to continue, or start over, inspired just as he does?)

Her struggle now becomes finding that strength (even a driving belief) to tentatively (re)build that trust and acceptance between them towards recovery. To endure, fight, and conquer those horrors to bridge (reconnect) the gap between the human and monstrous that separates them. (Especially if she truly cares and wants to do it--for the sake of what Matters, for what'll make the effort Worth it.) It'll be huge and seemingly insurmountable for any other person bearing the same strife she carries, but you can do it Meryl, I believe in you~~

[beesandhoney1219]

A Work In Progress For My Hyrule Warriors x Linked Universe Fanfic (Character List) :)

Lemme know what you think, and put your thoughts below! Basically, all the heroes were dropped off in the middle of Warriors' era for their first meeting. Who will they trust? And how much blood will be spilled?

“Heroes”

Warriors- The general of the Hyrule troops. He is also the first to meet with all the new Links brought by Hylia.

Mask(Time)- The first Link that appeared in the war. He stays in his child form except in dire situations.

Tune(Wind)- The second Link to appear, joining with Tetra. The two of them will take a bit to adjust to solid ground and not endless waves.

Spirit (Toon Link)- Appeared soon after Tune with Phantom. All four know they’re relatives, but keep it on the down low. For now, both Tune and Spirit are around the same age.

Sky- Fi personally introduced Sky to the rest of the heroes, having vanished in the middle of the night once she sensed his presence. Sky suffers from breathing problems and is mostly kept on the backlines as a last resort.

Artemis/Sheik- The ruler over Hyrule, and is regarded as the main general (with Warriors as her backup). She only dresses as Sheik for recon missions, or if she wants to get away from everyone.

Tetra- She uses her guns for range, providing covering fire for the troops. She is also a powerful sword wielder. She also is the best at controlling ships and loves water-based missions.

Phantom (Toon Zelda)- One of the many powerhouses in the troops due to her possessive abilities. Although many people can see her, hitting her is a different story. She has gotten very good at dodging while she’s separated from her body.

Linkle- Due to her clumsiness and lack of directions, Linkle is barely on the battlefield except if the fight is close to the main base. She is used mostly to gather supplies and teach less experienced troops how to fire crossbows.

Impa- She trains all new troops and is a close friend of Artemis. She is also a massive powerhouse.

Lana- A powerful sorcerer and healer. Due to her and Cia’s unique circumstances, she is mostly used as a healer and support, helping those who suffer wounds during battles.

Darunia-

Ruto-

Fi-

King Daphnes-

Medli-

Marin-

Neutral

Midna-

Twilight-

Agitha-

Ravio-

Tingle-

Skullkid/Majora-

“Villains”

Ganondorf (General Villain)-

Cia (Warriors’ Villain)-

Zant (Twilight’s Villain)-

Ghirahim (Sky’s Villain)-

Volga (Warriors’ Villain)-

Wizzro (Warriors’ Villain)-

Yuga (Legend’s Villain)-

Astor (Wild’s Villain)-

Bellum (Wind’s Villain)-

Onox (Legend’s Villain)- 

Vaati (Four’s Villain)-

Octavio (General Villain)-

Four- Cia was able to manipulate Four to her side by promising to revive Shadow. They only joined after seeing Vaati’s revival with their own eyes. Nobody knows about the Colors (besides Vaati, but the sorcerer is keeping it a secret).

Wild- With his shattered memories, Cia was easily able to convince Wild that the heroes were the bad guys in the situation, saying that they were the reason why he was brought here and away from his era. Wild is a soldier at heart and dutifully follows the orders of the person who helped him first, Cia.  

Hyrule- Hyrule, in a new era filled with bloodshed and violence, was reduced to his paranoid and aggressive behavior from his past. He lashes out like a wild animal, yet will retreat as soon as a drop of his blood is spilled. Only Cia and Ganondorf know about the magical abilities of his blood and will collect it to heal/revive those who fall in battle. The only reason why he stays with the villains is due to Cia’s kindness towards him. Is it manipulation? Or does she have a soft spot for the hero?

Legend- Legend is not trustful of anyone besides Hyrule, who he knows is his predecessor. He stays with the villains just to keep an eye on the other. He doesn’t trust the other villains, but he also doesn’t trust the heroes. They’re all suspicious in his eyes. 

[chick-with-wifi]

Meta: Root's message for Shaw

In 4x05, Root says, "if the worst comes to pass, if you could give Shaw a message?" when she believes she will die in the fight against Martine. Although we don't hear the exact wording of this message, the context and Finch's reply of "I think she already knows", tell us it is a declaration of love.

Then in 5x13 when the Machine is fading, She tells Shaw, "There's something I think Root had wanted to say to you. You always thought there was something wrong with you because you don't feel things the way other people do. But she always felt that was what made you beautiful. She wanted you to know that if you were a shape, you were a straight line. An arrow." 

During their time together, Root's flirting consists of exaggerated innuendo to push Shaw's buttons ("I'll do yours if you do mine" in 3x23, "I love it when you play doctor" in 3x17), and in return Shaw pushes Root's buttons by aggressively pretending she doesn't care about Root ("I missed you like I'd miss an intestinal parasite" in 3x20, "I wouldn't want anything to happen…to the dog" in 4x10). Root never disrupts the delicate balance of this dance, never asks Shaw for more than she's willing to give or demands any confirmation of her feelings, beyond light teasing such as "and is that why you came to see me?" in 4x07.

But in the event of her death, she wants Shaw to know the true extent of her feelings. Given that she always intended it to be this way, this means the message isn't for her benefit - it's for Shaw's. She wants Shaw to know beyond a shadow of doubt that Root loved and understood her for exactly who she is, and has no expectations for what her grieving process should look like. She doesn't want Shaw to ever feel like she isn't enough.

A variation of this also appears in 4x11. In one of the Machine's simulations, Root calls Shaw while knowing she doesn't have long left and it is the only time we see her push for any sort of confirmation about their relationship. She says, "Why are you so afraid to talk about your feelings? [...] We're perfect for each other. You're gonna figure that out someday." and is elated with Shaw's reply that "maybe someday [...] we can talk about it."

Since the Machine is able to accurately predict Her assets and knows Root's final request well enough to carry it out in 5x13, She knows this is the one situation where Root would push the issue enough to make it clear that she loves Shaw and that she would be thrilled with any degree of confirmation Shaw chooses to give.

Their conversation in the real timeline begins in exactly the same way, with Root in a dire situation calling Shaw to say, "Hey, sweetie. You busy?". Shaw replies, "A little. Skip the verbal foreplay, Root. Why are you calling?" and Root says, "Can't a couple of gals take a little break from work to catch up?". However, at this point Shaw arrives in the stock exchange and the team's chance of survival increases considerably.

The rest of their conversation plays out similarly, but is toned down. Root says, "We're so good at this together. You're gonna realize that someday." Where the simulation began with Root asking a direct question about Shaw's feelings, this is an open statement that doesn't put any pressure on Shaw to respond.

Shaw replies, "Root, no offense. You're hot, you're good with a gun. Those are two qualities I greatly admire. But you and me together would be like a four-alarm fire in an oil refinery." Just like how Root in the simulation was happy with Shaw's response, she cheerily replies, "Sounds cozy." Since at this moment her life is no longer in immediate danger, she doesn't feel the need to say anything further.

[soullumii]

hold me steady

joel miller x f!reader, jackson era, fluff, nonsexual praise kink (is that a thing?)

no smut, just fluff | 1.5k words

Joel teaches you how to shoot a sniper while on your first patrol, praising you all the while.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷--------------------------------------------------------------------

As pretty as it was, winter in Jackson was your least favorite.

Especially when you were put on patrols.

The white snow crunched beneath your boot-clad feet as you and Joel traversed the mountainside looking out for Infected, the cold seeping through your jeans and coat.

The patrol was going smoothly with barely any Infected showing up on the well-worn path. And when one did, Joel took it out easily, or you managed to shoot them with your pistol before they could land a hit. For your first patrol, it wasn’t bad at all. And Joel helped ease the small seed of anxiety in your stomach.

He walked a few steps ahead of you, pistol at the ready as you both trudged through the white forest toward a cliffside.

“You doin’ alright back there?” he called out to you.

“Yep! Just fine,” you responded, hands clenched over your own pistol. You had only shot it a few times before in training and the couple of times you and Joel had come face to face with an Infected on this outing.

You were out with Joel for a purpose: to practice.

Joel was proficient in anything dealing with Infected. Stabbing, fist fighting, shooting, you name it—he knew.

You were…not as well versed. You had been in a QZ for most of your life, working as a teacher. Things in the QZ weren’t good by any means, but it was better than fighting for yourself out in no man’s land. However, that ended when Fireflies launched several attacks on the QZ. Thankfully, you had managed to escape, although narrowly.

You were left stumbling around in Wyoming after that, doing your best to avoid Infected. All you had was the switchblade FEDRA gave all their school teachers and a few MREs in your pack.

Then, a patrol from Jackson had found you, freezing, hungry, and alone and they thankfully took you in.

You worked as a teacher for them, too, helping the little kids of Jackson learn about history and math, and English. You loved it. Jackson was so much kinder than the QZ. However, they did require everyone older than 18 to partake in patrols every now and then. You hadn’t been on one yet, having been only briefly trained on how to hold a gun and shoot.

With school out for the holidays, now was the perfect time for your first patrol, and Joel Miller was the one to take you.

You had met him a couple of times before at the Tipsy Bison and at the few community events they held in Jackson. He was a kind man, if not a bit rugged, and you couldn’t help the feelings for him that had begun to form after your interactions. And, he seemed to reciprocate them, too.

Joel didn’t exactly fit the rumors you had heard of him: that he was villainous, ruthless, and merciless. You could sense that those qualities were hidden away inside him, but that they were only used in dire situations. And Ellie had told you as much when you and she became more acquainted.

You loved Ellie. She and Dina would pop over to the school and have snowball fights with the kids or play tag with them. It warmed your heart to see the kids enjoy a life that wouldn’t have been possible if it weren’t for the founders of Jackson.

Or for the patrols that kept it safe.

Joel held up a hand and you stopped, holding your breath. You could hear it before he even pointed it out: the wailing of Infected. They sounded far enough away, but they could still be a potential threat to Jackson.

Joel waved you forward and you both crouched behind a boulder, peering across the cliffside to hone in on the stray Infected huddling over a carcass of a deer. You tucked your pistol into the back of your jeans.

“What do we do?” You whispered. They were too far to fire at with the pistol, and the valley between you and them was too wide to jump across. Thankfully, that meant they wouldn’t be able to get to you, but it also meant you couldn’t get to them.

Joel reached behind him and grabbed the sniper slung over his shoulder. “We take ‘em out.” He looked down at you and held out the weapon. “You ever shoot one of these?”

You reared back, staring at the gun with wide eyes. You were a little scared having only handled a much smaller gun, but a part of you was curious, excited even, to be taught to handle one of this caliber. “No, I haven’t.”

“Take it, I’ll show you.”

He handed it to you. It was heavier than you thought (Joel made it look as light as a feather) and you fumbled a bit, accidentally pointing the barrel at him. His eyes widened in surprise and he laughed, guiding the barrel away from him and towards the cliffside with two fingers. “Easy…”

“Sorry—”

“You’re fine, darlin’.”

With the gun in your hold, Joel brought down the stands and propped it over the top of the boulder. He guided it so that the back of the gun hit the crook of your shoulder, snug in the folds of your big jacket.

“Alright, lean down so that your cheek lines up with the stock,” he guided, and you followed. “Good, put your hand here, the other goes up here. Keep your finger off the trigger.”

You listened, doing exactly as he said. “You’re doin’ great, much better listener than Ellie was.”

You laughed, hands shaking a bit around the gun, but Joel’s praise had you warming up amidst the freezing cold. You could imagine Ellie groaning about being told what to do, or whining when she didn’t make the shot, and you giggled quietly into the gun, then you remembered what you were giggling into and you froze.

“You okay?” Joel asked you, voice soft.

You nodded and swallowed your trepidation as you stared at the murder machine in your grip. “Yeah… I’m fine.”

“Good,” he gave your back a comforting rub with a large, gloved hand. “I want you to get used to the feelin’ of it. It’s not gonna be kind to you when you pull that trigger, so hold her close, like you’re ‘bout to lose her.”

You side-eyed him, thinking that perhaps he was joking, but Joel’s eyes were hard. He was stern as he peered down at you, and you felt a bit antsy, as if you were about to be graded on your performance.

You instead focused your attention on the task at hand rather than how he was making you feel, and tried to follow along, holding the sniper tight but not too tight to where you were uncomfortable. Just tight enough to where you felt it wouldn’t leave your side, just like he said.

“Okay…now what?”

“Now look through that scope and find your first target. Make sure ya leave room for the bullet to drop. Aim it a lil’ bit higher than your target.”

You did as he said, watching the reticle of the scope lift up above the head of a snarling Infected.

“Okay, got it.”

“Good job, darlin’. Now, take a deep breath in and slowly breathe it out, squeeze the trigger like you love it—nice and slow. Steady.”

You breathed in, your nerves taking over. The deep breath helped, but you knew it would be loud—you couldn’t brace yourself for the sound. After a long wavering moment, you squeezed the trigger.

BOOM!

When you opened your eyes, the Infected was still standing.

“What—?”

“You flinched. And you closed your eyes.”

“Oh." How did you manage to mess up so badly? "I’m sorry.”

“No worries, let’s try again, okay?"

You nodded and he instructed you again. "Pull back on that lever to eject the cartridge.” You followed, flinching a little when the cartridge flew out and sunk into the snow.

Anxiety gripped your throat. “Joel, I don’t know if I can do this—”

“You can, baby.” He shuffled in closer, his warmth transferred to you as he laid his hands over yours. His chest pressed into your back. He squeezed your palms around the rifle and you relaxed into him. “Breathe. Line up. You’ve got this.”

You’ve got this.

If Joel believed in you, you could do it.

You took a deep breath and peered through the scope, lined it up with the Infected, and aimed a little bit higher to make room for the bullet to drop.

“One…two…three…shoot.”

You loosed your breath and pulled the trigger like you loved it right on his command without hesitation, and Joel held you steady, body warm as he curled around you, arms strong as he gripped the sniper right along with you. The gun didn’t jerk this time and the sound wasn’t as bad since you knew it was coming. The bullet flew across the cliffside, and the Infected across the way wailed as the round sunk into its skull, collapsing to the ground.

“That’s it. Good girl.” Joel praised, patting your back and squeezing your arm. “I’m proud of you.”

You grinned and looked up at him. His eyes focused on you with pride, and a smile pulled at his lips. “Can you do another for me?”

For Joel? You’d do anything. Especially if it meant he’d look at you like that again.

You ejected the cartridge and lined up again. “Yeah, I can.”

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

In Dire Need

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.6k

Warnings: tw: shooting, performing surgery with a gun to your head, tw: pregnancy, tw: miscarriage, super major angst

Request by anon: Tw shooting: Hi there can I get a Spencer Reid x surgeon where the hospital goes on lockdown bc of a shooter and its like Greys Anatomy where in 6x24 reader goes through what Cristina does? And Spencer doesn’t find out until some members of the BAU point out how “brave” his s/o is to him when they saw footage of the operation room? Thank you 

Summary: Spencer drops you off at work without worrying if you're not going to make it home or not. Then, reports of a shooter in the hospital you work in come flooding in and now Spencer's whole world crashes down around him.

Square Filled: held at gunpoint for @badthingshappenbingo

Author’s Note: If you've seen the shooting episode of Grey's Anatomy, then you pretty much know what to expect with Christina and with what happened to Meredith.

x

Spencer pulls up to the hospital you work at, and you turn to him with a sweet smile.

“Thank you for driving me.”

“Of course.”

You lean up and kiss him quickly before leaving the car.

“Remember, we have date night tonight. I have a present for you.”

“I can’t wait.”

You leave his side and walk into the hospital with tens of other people trying to either get to work or see their loved ones. Spencer notices a tall man walk in right behind you but he doesn’t think anything of it. He puts the car into drive and heads to the BAU which is only a quick twenty minutes away. Derek greets Spencer as soon as he comes in and he hands him a coffee.

“Thanks.”

“How’s Y/N doing?”

“She’s doing her best. I don’t know how she and Savannah work in hospitals. They must see more gore than we do. Plus, their hours are longer than ours.”

“I guess the same thing can be said about our jobs.”

“True,” Spencer chuckles and sips his coffee.

JJ walks into the room with a worried look on her face and she turns the news on for all to see.

“This just in. Quantico State Hospital is on complete lockdown as reports of a shooter come from within. Doctors are rushing to get patients out in an orderly fashion, but the location of the shooter is still unknown. The Quantico Police Department and SWAT have already arrived on scene, but not much is known at this stage in the investigation.”

“This just happened ten minutes ago,” JJ says as everyone gathers in the bullpen.

“No, that can’t be. I just dropped Y/N off. Everything was fine,” Spencer panics.

“The police are getting calls after calls from people inside the hospital. They’re evacuating the wings who aren’t affected as of right now. There’s no telling where this guy is going, who his target is, or how many people are affected inside.”

Spencer takes out his phone and dials you but your phone goes straight to voicemail. Spencer visually begins to panic and Derek places his hand on his shoulder to help calm him down.

“We need to go down there and help.”

“I agree,” Hotch says, “but we can’t go inside until we know the situation.”

“I don’t care. I just need to get down there.”

By the time the BAU gets to the hospital, the roads have been closed off, and a lot of patients and doctors are in the parking lot separated from less urgent to most urgent in terms of who needs to be taken care of first. First responders and doctors use what’s in ambulances to help keep some of the patients alive, but there is a great deal still left inside the hospital.

“Commander, what is going on?” Hotch asks.

“I came over with my guys as soon as I heard the calls. The dispatch center is getting calls left and right about this.”

The man plays a few recordings of calls that came into the 911 dispatch center.

“There is a shooter in the hospital! Send everyone!”

“My friend is dead. Please send help. I’m scared!”

“I don’t know what you have to do but we need help in here! The shooter is tall with blonde hair and facial hair. I don’t know where he went.”

The next call captures Spencer’s attention because it’s you.

“There is an active shooter right now, and I’m in the middle of surgery that I can’t stop. Last I heard he was in the OR wing where I am. Send help!”

“That’s my wife!” Spencer gasps.

“Yeah, it’s always someone’s wife or daughter,” the Commander sighs.

If the shooter is in the OR wing where you are, are you okay? Are you even alive?

“Why aren’t you going inside?”

“We don’t know the situation yet. We don’t know where the shooter is or how extensive the damage is. If we go in now, we could scare the shooter into killing more people.”

“This isn’t happening right now,” Spencer sighs and pulls at his hair gently. He looks at Derek and Hotch in desperation. “What if it were Savannah? Beth?”

As much as it sucks, Hotch could use a person on the inside. He knows and trusts his team to go inside and de-escalate the situation while the others find a way to get inside the safest. Hotch gives Spencer two nods and he takes off running to the entrance. Derek steps in the way of the officers that try to stop Spencer but aren’t successful.

There are a few bodies by the entrance since that is where the shooter stuck first. He strains his ears to hear where the shooter might be since the entire hospital is filled with a deafening silence. He doesn’t have time for this when you could be in danger. He prays that you’re alright as he safely and carefully runs to the OR wing.

He looks into each OR as he passes by but you’re not in any of them. That is until he reaches the last one. On the floor in the scrubber room are two doctors or nurses who jump at the sound of the door opening. They relax when they see his FBI vest, and he puts his hands up to let them know he isn’t a threat to them.

“I’m with the FBI. Who else is in here?”

“My boyfriend got shot,” one of the doctors says. “My best friend is doing surgery on him now.” 

Spencer takes a couple of steps into the scrubber room to look through the window to see what’s going on. That’s when his whole world comes crashing down around him. You’re there doing surgery on your friend’s boyfriend with another surgeon on the opposite side of you, but the shooter is inside with a gun pointed at your head. Tears are streaming down your face because you refuse to stop fixing the man on the table.

“Uh, stay down there.” Spencer takes his phone out and hands it to one of the doctors. “Call for help. Tell them Spencer Reid with the FBI is in OR 3 of the surgery wing. Tell them he says to send the team in.”

“Okay,” the doctor says and grabs his phone.

Spencer slowly walks into the OR with his gun raised. The shooter immediately moves the gun from your head to Spencer when he sees him.

“Spencer,” you cry as you work.

“Drop the gun,” Spencer orders the man.

The man moves the gun back over to you and shoves it into the side of your head. You sob loudly at the thought of leaving Earth like this in front of the man you love.

“I will shoot her if you don’t lower your gun.”

Spencer has no choice but to listen to what he says. If your life is on the line, then he’ll do anything to save it. He drops his gun to the floor and kicks it away per the shooter’s instructions.

“Let him die.” When you don’t, he presses the gun into your head again, and you sob. “Do you want me to shoot you?”

“Y/N--”

“No, I can’t stop,” you cut your husband off.

Spencer needs to get that gun away from you so he takes one step toward the shooter, and he aims the gun at Spencer instead. With the threat of the gun off you, you and the other surgeon work quickly to do as much as you can as long as you can do it.

“The person you’re holding a gun to is the woman I love.”

“The man on the table, Dr. Greystone, is responsible for killing my wife. I was justice!”

“If you kill that man then justice won’t be served. Knowing that this doctor is rotting in prison for killing your wife is justice, and I can make that happen. All you need to do is put the gun down.” Out of the corner of his eye, Spencer sees the knobless door to the OR room open. Hotch and Derek walk in with their guns raised silently so as to not alert the shooter that they’re there. “I will make sure this doctor goes away for a long time. Just drop the gun.”

Whatever he sees in Spencer seems to work because the shooter drops the gun with tears in his eyes. Hotch keeps the gun trained on him while Derek jumps into action. He grabs the man and kicks the gun away before putting handcuffs on him. You’re just about done with this surgery anyway, so you hand the stitch and needle to your coworker and run over to Spencer. 

When you feel the comfort of his arms around you, you break down crying.

As soon as the shooter is apprehended, doctors and patients are allowed back inside. Paramedics come rushing in to tend to the wounded. Your friend and her boyfriend are transferred to a room, and you’re taken outside with Spencer while the rest of the BAU help where needed.

“I’m sorry,” you cry. “I had to keep going. This hospital is my family. I couldn’t let my best friend’s boyfriend die.”

“I know. I’m so sorry you had to go through this. I’m glad you’re okay.”

Spencer pulls you in for a hug and you put a hand to your stomach in thought. You have a pregnancy stick waiting for Spencer at home because you’re you wanted to surprise him that you’re pregnant but after what just happened, you might not be.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[leikeliscomet]

Flop and Bubble - Part 3/End - The Writers Room

When I recommended I May Destroy You, Mood, Dreaming Whilst Black and Champion it wasn’t just because they were Black British shows, even though that’s part of it. It was because they all represented similar themes to Dot and Bubble with more tact, nuance and depth than that episode could ever dream of. Arabella’s social media dependency became her outlet because she thought it was the only way to reclaim power after her assault. Sasha’s obsession with social media is because she knows social currency can turn financial and in her dire situation, she needs the reach. Kwabena’s outbursts take place inside his head because even though he knows he’s right, he knows what the consequences are if he speaks out and he walks the tightrope of validation and authenticity. Vita’s musical image is under control by her white manager because her roles as a dark-skinned Black woman in the music industry are limited. I also recommended them because they all reflect the dissonance between Black British media and creatives and white British media like Doctor Who. Every show essentially is the story of a Black British creative struggling to ‘make it’ in their respective industry. Arabella’s book. Sasha’s EP. Kwabena’s short film. Vita’s music career. Each of these reflects the struggle of the Black British creative in real life from lack of funds, the right imagery and ultimately what the white British consumer wants.

Again, by giving Black people our creative agency, there’s a place for Black experiences that Doctor Who can’t provide, or at least could but hasn’t. In Doctor Who, Adjani Salmon was just that guy with the ‘weird hair’ from that Eve of the Daleks episode. In Dreaming Whilst Black, he’s the creator and lead actor of a critically acclaimed show, BAFTA nominated alongside David Tennant. In Doctor Who, Malorie Blackman was just that Black woman that made Rosa. In Noughts and Crosses, she’s a critically acclaimed author, the first Black Children’s Laureate and to me, a massive inspiration that showed me Black girls can be book protagonists too. In Doctor Who, Tosin Cole as Ryan Sinclair is the ‘worst companion of the whole show’, a bad actor and a cardboard cutout. In Supacell, he’s the leading man and a breakout star of 2024. Where Doctor Who fails in Black representation, Black British media gets it right. In a bittersweet sense, I know the true representation I’d want from the show won’t come (or not at least for a very long time) but I know where it could be outside it. To repeat from previous essays, I don’t expect the perfect Black representation to come from Doctor Who as it's a predominantly white show intended for a white audience. I only expect the bare minimum of living up to its promise (which it made all by itself by the way) of having ‘space for all’, in this case providing Black representation both in and behind the screen. If it can’t do that, then at least be honest and say you just don’t want us here. It saves a lot of time. We can make our own spaces where we’re actually wanted.

-

The tone drastically changes when you shift from performing for white validity to defending yourself and essentially, stop chasing after the boat. It’s harsh and cold. It even exists in the show. When Martha defended herself she was ‘aggressive’. When Mickey and Danny called out their mistreatment they became ‘abusive’. When the Fugitive held a gun she never fired she was ‘violent’. The price you pay for not chasing after the boat is that you become the Bogeyman. It’s very clear from the responses I got from my OG thread, many white fans and non-Black fans of colour wanted me to stay in my place and be grateful for the steaming dump I was given. How dare I not bow before RTD? He wrote about racism and he’s got a Black guy what else can you want? Isn’t that enough? Didn’t he try his best? Isn’t RTD’s best good enough? 

No. It’s not good enough. I don’t care who cries about me saying this. As I’ve already addressed in my Fugitive Doctor essay, I’m not crediting Black stories to RTD. Simply enjoying his work is fine. I enjoy his work myself, specifically the Sarah Jane Adventures, It’s a Sin and Years & Years. But when the Doctor Who fandom claims RTD, a white writer, is the reason for progress in Black representation and Black art over the countless Black creatives who’ve worked before him, the same time as him and after him, I will always, always push back on that as a Black person. I had no reason to gas this episode because it disappointed me from the initial watch and rewatch. From the disgusting antiblackness I experienced from this fandom for critiquing Dot and Bubble, I have zero reason to ever call it a good story about my own experience as a Black person. If you’re looking for a Black user to gas this episode to make your interest in this episode and season look morally superior and woke, it’s not happening. I don’t need to consider your disagreements, your interpretations, your opinions or your permission to dislike Dot and Bubble as a Black person. I will also push back on the bold comments made by RTD himself. You have a Black character and racism plot. Cool. How this is written and how this plays out is what actually matters to me than it just simply existing. Allyship isn’t the state of going from racist to anti-racist overnight. It’s not clinging onto the nearest Black person for dear life. It’s through consistent actions and support that someone becomes an ally. For once, you aren’t instantly rewarded for just showing up, you have to do more than the bare minimum. And that’s the closest to the Black British experience this fandom will ever get.

In a renaissance of Black British media, if Doctor Who’s getting any accolades from me, it needs to keep up. The idea I have to praise an episode just because ‘it's the racism one’, with shallow messages meant to soothe the ego of its audience instead of challenge it, with no Black writers in the creation process, no original theme of racism to begin with and that dozens of pieces of Black media have done a hell of a lot better, to sum it up, is a fucking joke. Black creatives don’t have to ask permission to create and represent ourselves. We just have to get on with it because it’s not gonna create itself. I’m not asking for permission to hate this dutty episode. I’m not chasing after that boat.

<- Part 2

[ihaveforgortoomany]

Druvis and Schneider Parallels, and looking at the end of Chapter Two (why not?) + more on Schneider in general

Being two characters we met in the same patch, both characters do have a couple of similarities to each other that I wanna just yap about + talking about the ingame impact of Schnieder.

Both have (had I guess in terms of Druvis) a strong desire to help their families, whether it was Schneider's desire to protect their family at all costs therefore going to the Manus and for Druvis it was (other than her desire to protect the forests and love for them) a desire to aid her family in times of financial crisis in the form of developing her arcanum, then afterwards with FMN seek out the truth of the fire and who caused it.

Aesthetic wise both pull from the "flapper" movement of the 1920s, their shorter hairstyles are a big signature of developing women's fashion in this era.

The connection that Druvis developed the pristols Schneider uses when we met her. (Speculation: Arcana had approached both FMN and Druvis at the same time similar to the Dittasdorfs and Heinreich in Chapter Six, or FMN was approached alone and then told Druvis about it. Schneider likely after being rejected by the Foundation sought after FMN to join the Manus to protect her family, eventually leading to her meeting Druvis and obtaining her signature guns. )

(Headcanon: If Vertin ever comes to the point to need better protection or the situation becomes dire enough, Druvis will likely be the one to fashion guns for Vertin, maybe in the style of Schneider's, actually Vertin probably does have those guns somewhere, Schneider wouldn't have left them in the mansion or somethin)

Their relation to Vertin: argubly Vertin had met the both of them at their lowest points, vulnerable to the Manus and seeing no other option to join the Manus for their respective desires. Vertin offers salvation and shelter to the both of them, but tragically it is only one of them who is able to survive.

Druvis by the end of Chapter Two does reach a sort of conclusion by the end, resolving to look to the future for the first time since the fire instead of looking back into the past like Forget Me Not. This growing resolve plays a large part in helping Vertin pass the Reformation Bill in Chapter 4, she is (alongside the efforts of Iliya and Z) the one to spearhead the coup against Constantine.

For Schneider, what conclusion are we left at? Her arc in Chapter One and Two follows a tragic attempt to save her family, failed by the Foundations and Manus that all leads to aiding Vertin against FMN and Arcana. And after? In those six hours Schneider can only hope someone would remember her.

Again either Im overstretching but why specifcally is her last will is to be remembered? Its a depressing thought that she desire to be remembered, maybe a desire for her efforts to not be in vain, she effectively had failed in saving her family from the Storm, Mariam might have been saved from the Manus but truly they were all doomed regardless.

Whats also tragic about Schneider is how long she keeps up a brave facade in the face of this, her flirty attitude rarely ever breaks,the exception bring Arcana torturing both her and Vertin in the oranges scene, and in general around Vertin by the latter half of the Chapter (the umbrella scene and the last scene).

Even in these 24 hours and less of interacting with Schneider, her last moments break away from the facade of the Mafia leader and the flirtations to someone very scared of disappearing, terrified of being forgotten to desire at least one person to remember her. (It being Vertin likely because she is the only or first person to offer genuine help to her, someone forced to grow up too fast finally finding someone to depend on, even if its inly six hours)

(This is the end of the main analysis below is just pure ramble, speculation and copium)

Additional thoughts

On the topic of Schneider, its common knowledge she was playable in Beta but removed due to complaints in CN about a "dead" character being playable. We also know how well integrated aspects of the UI, menus, dailies, Wilderness and etc are incorporated into the lore and story (example being character profiles being interviews by UTTU).

Knowing that Schneider being playable was intended alongside the story (Chapter 1-4 being available from launch) with her psych cube being present as well. (Was she even placed in any banners? )

Right I sound like Im on copium but Bluepoch intending Schneider being playable in spite of her fate in the story means they likely had a in universe explanation for her to be reversed but still appear in the suitcase - now the lore implications of this are big. (Theories on different timelines or versions go brr here I guess) They had a reason for Schneider to be in a situation like this, but enough willingness to remove her playability entirely and gave her kit to someone else (was it Melania right?).

Heres the questions - would there have been a lore explanation for Schneider post-Ch 2 appearing in the suitcase? If yes does that mean either story could have experienced adjustments following her removal? Or later down the line we will get a character that was reversed by the Storm but appears in the suitcase?

(theres still the infected section in the Atlas that including CN no one is in BUT this section has been there since release) Storm inflicted going here would be crazy and Im pretty sure someone on reddit has brought up the idea.

Expect a more coherent post after this, i have just a bunch of stuff I wanna put down and talk about.

[damnflirtyape]

Forgive me because I'm going to ramble, I've been thinking about parallels and character arcs that echo or mirror one another. And I've been thinking about some of the similarities between Mae in Kingdom and Caesar in War (and I might be completely wrong this is just my own interpretation lol).

They're not exactly mirrors of one another, but they certainly hold similarities. We see both characters dealing with the aftermath of a violent loss, see them battle with the trauma and anger and grief of those losses. They both withdraw from others around them emotionally and we then see their grief and fury explode from them in outbursts.

They're both plunged into dire hostage situations which require patience and strategic negotiation. And neither of them are in the right kind of mental space to navigate them. For Caesar, he's never encountered someone like the Colonel; this man cannot be reasoned with, cannot be intimidated, is as brutal with humans as he is with apes. Even if he could be reasoned with, Caesar is completely consumed by his rage and need for vengeance, he cannot and will not back down. And when the Colonel pushes him, taunting him about the death of his own son, he understandably lashes out.

With Mae, in her eyes negotiation isn't an option. Mae's been instilled with the belief that her mission is an integral key to potentially saving the human race and that nothing can come between that. We know so little about her and her past, but if a human is knowledgeable about technology and a government that disappeared 300 years ago, one can only suppose this has been deliberately taught to them. Like Caesar, Mae won't back down, because she knows Proximus cannot have the weapons inside the Vault and because her life hangs in the balance. She's the only one left alive to retrieve the decryption key and deliver it (her usefulness to Proximus arguably ends once she reveals a way to enter the Vault). She's also angry and scared and lashes out when he pushes her, reminding her how she's at his mercy.

Then the parallels of killing in desperation. Caesar arguably doesn't mean to kill Winter, he's blinded by his rage and doesn't seem to even realize he's choking the gorilla... And then he realizes how limp the other ape is, feels him slump lifeless in his arms and we see his horror. He hasn't fully realized how far gone he is yet, though his friends certainly see it. This is a harrowing scene. Unlike with Koba, there is no hesitance and thoughts of Winter do not haunt him after.

And then Mae's killing of Trevathan... this is a deliberate act but a purely desperate one. This is the moment Mae realizes how far she has to go in order to complete her mission. She doesn't want to kill this man, kill another human, I think it's likely (given her shock after she shoots Lightning later) that Mae has never killed anyone and hadn't thought she would ever need to. She's terrified, from the moment she's desperately trying to negotiate with him to the moment she shakily gets to her hands and knees in the sand next to his corpse.

Oh and about the parallels.... Caesar causing an explosion to destroy the military base and that explosion causing a devastating avalanche to tear down the mountain and almost wipe out his own apes.

And Mae causing an explosion to destroy the Vault and prevent human weapons from ending up in Proximus' hands... that also almost wipes out Noa and his clan?

And finally, the seeking of forgiveness. I genuinely think Mae felt guilt for doing what she did to the clan. I can see that as the only reason she would seek out the Eagle Clan's village, a sense of guilt and concern for their welfare. She should be well on her way to complete her mission, but she follows them. Her learned fear of apes has her hiding a gun behind her back, she's expecting Noa's anger. She's not expecting him to still be open to the idea that perhaps one day humans and apes could live side by side. She won't apologize, she still sees her actions as unavoidable, the 'right' thing. But she feels guilt, and the fact he seems to not hate her is far more than she expects.

And Caesar, oh Caesar. He's done so much, far far more than any one person should. And he almost lost himself completely, there were moments Maurice barely recognized his old friend. Caesar almost killed them all through his anger and grief, and he saved them all again. He doesn't need to ask for forgiveness, but Maurice offers it still, reassures him and lets him finally rest.