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atlasthegreatest · 4 months ago

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Through Fire and Ruin / Jill Valentine x Brother! Male Reader

During the events of Resident Evil 3, Jill reunites with her younger brother, Y/n during the outbreak of the T-virus.

Word count: 2823

A/n: This was requested by an anon. Enjoy it!

The distant roar of collapsing buildings echoed through the streets of Raccoon City. Jill Valentine pressed her back against a crumbling wall, sweat glistening on her brow, her breath heavy. A cacophony of groans and shuffles announced the slow march of zombies down the block.

Jill gritted her teeth, reloaded her pistol with a sharp click, and peeked around the corner. It had been hours—maybe days—since she’d had a moment to breathe. Her legs ached, her mind weighed down by exhaustion, but the thought of giving up never even crossed her mind. She was a survivor. And survivors didn’t quit.

“Alright, Valentine. Just keep moving,” she whispered to herself. “Gotta make it to the subway.”

Then she heard it.

A faint sound cut through the background noise—small footsteps, faster than a zombie’s shuffle, and the faintest gasp of a breath. It wasn’t just any random survivor. She knew that sound anywhere. Her heart skipped a beat.

“No way…” Jill whispered, her blue eyes widening.

She rounded the corner just in time to see a young man, lanky and dressed in a worn-out hoodie and jeans, sprinting down the street, dodging the undead with clumsy grace. His hair, tangled and messy, was unmistakable.

“Y/n?” Jill shouted, her voice a mixture of disbelief and hope.

The boy skidded to a halt, wild eyes scanning for the source of the voice. When he saw her, his face lit up with a grin that didn’t belong in a city falling apart.

“Jill!” he cried, dashing toward her.

Jill ran to meet him, her heart pounding, and without thinking, she wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace. For a moment, the horrors of the outbreak melted away, and all that mattered was that Y/n —her baby brother—was alive.

“You’re okay,” she whispered, her voice thick with relief as she buried her face in his shoulder. “You’re okay…”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I mean, kinda,” Y/n mumbled, sounding both sheepish and shaken. “I thought you were dead, Jill. I… I tried to find you.”

Jill pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes, cupping his face with both hands. “I thought I lost you too. You have no idea how happy I am to see you.”

Y/n gave a shaky laugh. “You still look like a badass. Nice jacket, by the way.”

Jill rolled her eyes, a small smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Focus, smartass. How the hell did you survive this long?”

Y/n scratched the back of his neck. “A lot of running. And hiding. And dumb luck, mostly.”

Jill gave him a quick once-over. He looked exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes and dirt smudged across his face. But he was alive. That was what mattered.

Suddenly, a low moan echoed from behind them. Jill grabbed Y/n by the arm, her instincts kicking in.

“Time to move, kid.”

“Where to?”

“Anywhere but here.”

They sprinted down the street, weaving between abandoned cars and shambling undead. Jill led the way, her hand gripping Y/n’s wrist, keeping him close like she used to when they were kids crossing busy streets.

As they rounded another corner and slipped into the alleyway behind an old diner, they finally stopped to catch their breath.

Y/n leaned against the wall, panting. “This… sucks.”

“Yeah, well, you always hated cardio,” Jill quipped, trying to keep things light. She gave him a quick once-over. “You injured?”

“No, just tired. And hungry. Got anything to eat?”

Jill shot him a look. “Does it look like I’ve got snacks?”

Y/n grinned. “Figured I’d ask.”

Despite everything, Jill couldn’t help but laugh softly. The sound felt strange, and foreign after days of running, fighting, and losing people. Butat that moment, standing in the shadows with her brother, she allowed herself the tiniest sliver of hope.

Y/n shifted, his expression growing more serious. “Jill… I heard about the virus. Is this the end?”

Jill’s heart clenched at the fear in his voice. For a moment, the weight of being the older sibling settled heavily on her shoulders again, just like when they were younger and she’d promised him everything would be okay—even when she wasn’t sure herself.

“No,” she said firmly, meeting his eyes. “It’s not the end. I’m going to get us out of here, Y/n. I promise.”

His lips twitched into a half-smile, but she could see the doubt in his eyes. She wished she could shield him from all this, the way she did when they were kids. But now, all she could do was stand by his side and make sure they both survived.

“Okay,” Y/n said quietly, trusting her like he always had.

Jill checked the magazine in her pistol, then handed him a spare knife she’d tucked into her boot.

“Take this.”

Y/n blinked. “Uh, you’re seriously trusting me with a knife?”

Jill gave him a pointed look. “You remember how to use it, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. Aim for the head or kneecap,” Y/n muttered, flipping the knife in his hand awkwardly.

Jill smirked. “Good. Stay close to me, and no stupid hero moves, alright? I can’t have you getting killed out here.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow. “Funny, I was about to say the same thing to you.”

Jill shot him a glare, but the warmth behind it was unmistakable. “Don’t push your luck.”

They shared a small, fleeting moment of peace before the chaos caught up with them again—a reminder that in this nightmare, having someone to watch your back was everything.

Jill holstered her gun and nudged Y/n with her elbow. “Let’s go, little brother. We’re getting out of this hellhole together.”

Y/n gave her a weary grin. “Lead the way, big sis.”

And just like that, the Valentine siblings stepped back into the storm, side by side. No matter what Raccoon City threw at them next, they had each other—and that was all the reason they needed to keep going.

———————

The streets of Raccoon City felt like a maze, twisting and collapsing, with danger lurking around every corner. Jill and Y/n moved in sync—her leading, him close behind—darting from alley to alley as the sound of zombies echoed in the distance. Every moment stretched thin with the tension of being just one step ahead of death.

Y/n kept pace, clutching the knife she’d given him tightly, glancing nervously over his shoulder every few seconds. His breath was ragged, but he kept going. Jill could tell he was trying hard not to show how scared he was.

“So…” Y/n started as they jogged down a narrow alley, “what’s the plan? I mean, assuming we don’t get eaten.”

Jill gave him a quick glance. “Get to the subway station. There’s an evac train waiting.”

“And after that?”

“We get the hell out of this city,” she said without hesitation.

Y/n snorted. “You make it sound so easy.”

“Hey.” Jill stopped and grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to meet her gaze. “It’s not easy. But I’ve got you. You hear me?”

Y/n swallowed hard and nodded. “Yeah. I know.”

She gave his shoulder a quick squeeze before moving again, leading them deeper into the ruins. Despite her calm demeanor, Jill’s heart ached. She’d seen too much, lost too many. But she couldn’t lose Y/n. Not him.

The sound of footsteps suddenly grew louder. Not just one or two—dozens.

“Shit,” Jill hissed, scanning their surroundings.

A horde of zombies shuffled toward them from both ends of the alley, blocking their path. The reek of decay hit them like a wave, and Y/n tightened his grip on the knife.

“Jill, what do we do?” he whispered, panic edging into his voice.

Jill’s eyes darted around. “We run.”

“Where?”

“Up.”

Before Y/n could protest, she spotted a fire escape ladder hanging just low enough to reach with a jump. She gave him a push. “Go! Climb!”

Y/n scrambled up the ladder, hands shaking as he hoisted himself onto the metal platform. Jill was right behind him, her boots thudding against the rungs as the first zombies reached the bottom of the ladder, their rotting hands clawing at the air below.

They clambered up the fire escape, heartbeats racing, until they reached the rooftop. Jill hauled herself over the edge, helping Y/n the rest of the way. They both collapsed for a moment, panting.

“That was… way too close,” Y/n muttered between breaths, lying flat on his back.

“Welcome to my life,” Jill said dryly, pulling him up. “No time to rest.”

Y/n groaned but obeyed, following her across the rooftop. They hopped over ventilation units and leaped to the next building. For a while, there was only the sound of their footsteps, the distant sirens, and the faint growls below.

As they slowed to a walk, Y/n shot her a sideways glance. “You know, it’s kinda wild. Last time we hung out, I thought the worst thing in life was finals. Now it’s zombies.”

Jill gave him a small smile. “Miss those problems yet?”

Y/n let out a weak laugh. “Hell yeah.”

They reached the edge of the roof and crouched down behind a low wall. Jill scanned the street below with narrowed eyes, trying to map their next move.

Y/n shifted beside her, chewing on his bottom lip. “Jill… can I ask you something?”

She glanced at him, noting the hesitation in his voice. “Yeah, of course.”

“When this is over… do you think things will go back to normal?” His voice was low, vulnerable, as if he was afraid of the answer.

Jill looked away for a moment, her jaw tightening. She wished she could lie—say something comforting. But she didn’t want to give him false hope.

“I don’t know,” she admitted softly. “But we’ll figure it out. Together.”

Y/n nodded, but the answer didn’t seem to satisfy him. “I hate this, Jill. All of it. I hate that people are dying. I hate how scared I feel.”

Jill shifted closer and nudged him gently with her shoulder. “I know. But you’re doing great, kid. And I’m proud of you.”

Y/n looked at her, surprised. “Proud? Of what? I’ve just been a mess since this whole thing started.”

Jill shook her head. “You’re still standing. You found me. That’s more than most people could’ve done.”

Y/n blinked, and for a moment, Jill saw the kid he used to be—the one who followed her around the house, looking for reassurance whenever things got too tough. She ruffled his hair, like she used to when they were younger.

“Besides,” she added with a grin, “if you weren’t here, who’d keep me in check?”

Y/n chuckled, some of the tension easing from his face. “I guess someone’s gotta keep you from going full Rambo.”

Jill rolled her eyes. “Don’t push it.”

Before they could say more, the air was split by a distant, monstrous roar—a sound that made the blood freeze in their veins. Jill stiffened.

Y/n looked at her, his eyes wide. “What the hell was that?”

Jill’s face darkened. “Nemesis.”

Y/n’s expression shifted from confusion to fear. “You mean that giant… thing I saw tearing through the streets earlier?”

“Yeah,” Jill said grimly, gripping her gun tighter. “And if it finds us, we’re screwed.”

Y/n swallowed hard. “Cool, cool, love that for us.”

Jill stood and offered him her hand. “We’ve gotta move. Now.”

Y/n took her hand, and together they made their way to the edge of the rooftop. Jill scanned for a safe landing below, spotting a dumpster they could drop onto.

“You first,” Jill instructed.

Y/n glanced down, grimacing. “That’s a hell of a jump.”

“You’ll survive. Probably.”

He shot her a look, but she smiled, and after a deep breath, he leaped down. The dumpster rattled under his weight, but he rolled to his feet with a groan.

Jill followed, landing beside him with practiced ease.

“See? Not so bad,” she said, brushing herself off.

Y/n winced. “My back disagrees.”

Jill gave him a playful shove. “Come on, we’re almost there.”

They jogged toward the subway entrance, hearts pounding but spirits a little lighter. Jill glanced at Y/n and felt a flicker of pride. He wasn’t just surviving—he was keeping up, matching her step for step.

Whatever came next, they would face it together.

And as long as they had each other’s backs, Jill knew they’d stand a chance.

Bonus chapter:

For the first time in what felt like days, the world was quiet. Jill and Y/n sat inside an old, ransacked convenience store, taking shelter from the chaos outside. The flickering fluorescent lights buzzed softly above them, and the stale air smelled faintly of dust and expired snacks.

Jill leaned against the wall, head tilted back and eyes closed, trying to savor this brief moment of calm. Her muscles screamed in protest after hours of running and fighting. Across from her, Y/n sat cross-legged on the floor, munching on a slightly stale protein bar he’d scavenged from a broken shelf.

“Okay, not gonna lie,” Y/n mumbled through a mouthful of food, “this is the worst protein bar I’ve ever eaten.” He held it up as if studying it. “Chocolate my ass.”

Jill cracked one eye open, smirking. “Better than nothing, right?”

Y/n made a face but took another bite. “Barely.”

She let out a quiet laugh. Moments like these—where they weren’t being chased or shooting their way through hordes—felt surreal. She almost wanted to believe they were back home, hanging out on the couch, fighting over snacks. Almost.

“You remember that summer Mom made us go camping?” Y/n asked suddenly, his voice soft.

Jill opened both eyes and gave a small chuckle. “Yeah. You complained the whole time.”

“Because it sucked. Who voluntarily sleeps outside with bugs and no Wi-Fi?”

“You’re such a city kid.”

Y/n grinned, but it quickly faded. He tore off another piece of the protein bar and looked at it like it might hold the answer to everything. “I miss those days, you know? When stuff wasn’t… like this.”

Jill’s heart tightened. She knew what he meant—how everything felt like it had shattered beyond repair. Before the outbreak, life was imperfect, but it was familiar. Now, nothing made sense, and the future was a terrifying blank slate.

“Me too,” Jill admitted quietly.

Y/n looked up at her, his eyes searching hers. “Do you ever think about what happens if… if we don’t make it?”

The question caught Jill off guard. She wanted to tell him not to think like that, to focus only on surviving. But she couldn’t lie to him. He deserved the truth.

“I think about it sometimes,” she confessed, her voice steady. “But you know what keeps me going?”

Y/n shook his head.

“You.” Jill gave him a small, sincere smile. “If there’s even the slightest chance we can make it out of this together, I’m not giving up. Not on you.”

Y/n stared at her for a moment, visibly moved. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, trying to hide the emotion in his voice.

“Damn right, you don’t,” Jill teased, nudging his shoulder.

Y/n chuckled softly, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie. “I swear, you’re like… unbreakable.”

Jill raised an eyebrow. “Unbreakable? I’ve been nearly blown up, chased by a monster, and attacked by every possible horror this city could throw at me. I’m not unbreakable, Y/n/n. I’m just… too stubborn to quit.”

Y/n smiled, but the look in his eyes softened with understanding. “Yeah, I know. You’ve always been the tough one.”

Jill reached over and gave his hand a squeeze. “And you’ve always been the smart one. That’s why we make a good team.”

Y/n rolled his eyes, though a grin tugged at his lips. “Right. I’ll stick to being the brains, you stick to punching monsters.”

“Deal,” Jill said with a chuckle, feeling a warmth she hadn’t felt in days—maybe even months.

The warmth didn’t last long. A sudden crash from outside shattered the stillness, and both siblings froze. Jill’s hand went instinctively to her pistol, and Y/n clutched his knife tightly.

“Time’s up,” Jill muttered, her muscles tensing as the sound of distant footsteps grew louder.

Y/n met her eyes, fear flickering across his face—but something else was there too. Trust. They had survived this long together, and they’d survive whatever came next.

“You ready?” she asked, standing up and offering him her hand.

Y/n took it without hesitation, pulling himself to his feet. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Jill smirked. “Stay close, kid.”

Y/n gave her a mock salute. “Always, big sis.”

And with that, the Valentine siblings slipped back into the shadows, side by side. Whatever awaited them outside, they would face it together. Because as long as they had each other, there was still hope—however fragile—in a city on the brink of ruin.

#resident evil #jill valentine #male reader #jill valentine x reader #soft angst

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tsunami-of-tears · 9 months ago

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Draw me like one of your fae girls

Feyre x Reader (sapphic)

A/N: okay I may have plotted too hard before the porn

Thank you so much to ✨ anon who sent this request in. I’ve diverged a little bit, but most of your points are covered 💛

Wordcount: 2.4K

Warnings: Female reader; we have a little bit of angst/pining; smut (oral - f!receiving, fingering, soft d/s, mommy kink)

The rushing of the Sidra, a crisp breeze rustling through the trees, the soft tap of footsteps on the cobblestone streets, people laughing and chattering as they mill about. Velaris, the city for the dreamers.

I meander through the artist’s quarter, arms full of my new supplies. A big gust of wind blows down the street and I spin to shield my face, clutching the bundle close to my chest. As I turn, a sign comes into view:

“Help wanted. Any artistic experience is desirable. Enquire within.”

What are the chances? I’ve been looking for a new job, and being surrounded by art all day sounds like a dream come true. I shift my supplies into one arm and open the door.

Inside the studio is bright and welcoming. Easels line the room, some holding paintings in various stages of completion. The walls are scattered with artwork, all portraying different subjects– flowers in vases, scenes of restaurants by the Sidra, a boy throwing a ball in the park– all breathing life into the space. Vibrant, joyous life.

A high-fae female stands behind one of the easels, she has smears of yellow paint on her cheek and smock. Her grey-blue eyes are narrowed in concentration and waves of gold are tied messily in a bun on her head. She bites on her lower lip as she continues painting, her nose scrunching ever so slightly.

She is captivating.

She looks up from her work, finally noticing my presence in the room.

“Oh hello there. I’m sorry, I didn’t see you come in. My name is Feyre,” she smiles warmly at me before setting down her brush and palette. She wipes her hands on her smock, though it doesn’t help much.

“It’s okay, I just got here. I’m Y/N, I saw your sign outside.” I return Feyre’s smile, and gesture to the door behind me.

“That didn’t take long,” she laughs. “I put that sign up an hour ago. You’re an artist?”

“Yes, I paint and draw, but my preferred medium is ceramics. I like using my hands.”

“We have that in common,” she says, her smile turning slightly playful. “I’m looking for someone to assist during classes. It’s gotten so busy, which is wonderful, but my attention is stretched too thin. Do you think that’s something you’re interested in?”

I nod eagerly, “Absolutely. It’s my dream to be surrounded by art all day. Would you like to see some of my work? The sculptures are difficult to transport but I can deliver some of my sketchbooks.”

“I’d love to, but it’s not required for the position. How soon can you start?”

I blink a few times, repeating her words in my head to make sure I heard Feyre correctly. “Does next week work?”

————

I’m unpacking the fired pottery from the kiln a few months later. Feyre had bought it soon after I started working for her. With her blessing, I’d begun teaching ceramics classes. This last batch was from my regular students who attend once a week.

I’m holding the last piece when Feyre enters. “Wow, these are amazing. You’re doing so well with the students,” she beams.

“It’s all them,” I respond, setting down the pot carefully.

“Don’t do that,” Feyre tuts. “You’re a great teacher and I’m thrilled to have you working with me.”

“Thanks, Feyre. I really love it. It’s so rewarding.”

“I’m still waiting on my personal lesson though,” she laughs. “Are you still up for drinks tonight?”

“Definitely. I just need to reload the kiln, the next batch should be dry enough.”

————

Feyre and I walked to the bar arm-in-arm, already giggling at each other and we hadn’t started drinking yet. Since I joined Feyre’s studio, we’ve developed a close friendship, though a small piece of my heart yearns for more.

She’s mated, I remind myself for the hundredth time.

As we enter the dimly lit bar, Ressina spots us, calling us over to her booth. I take a seat next to another instructor, Coral, and Feyre slides in beside me. Across from us sits Ressina and her partner, Pollux.

Ressina had bought a round of drinks for our group just before we arrived. We raise our glasses, clinking them together in cheers before taking a sip.

“Coral was just telling us about her hot date last night,” Ressina explains.

“Don’t sound so excited,” Pollux says sarcastically.

“Oh it’s just fun, we have to live vicariously through our single friends. Feyre gets it, right?” Ressina gestures vigorously towards Feyre.

“Oh actually,” Feyre says, “I might be back on the market.” She takes a casual sip from her drink, as if she had just said the most mundane sentence in the world.

My jaw drops and my eyes widen in alarm. Across the table, our friends are sporting similar expressions. No one saw that coming.

“Oh no, not like that!” She quickly reassures us. “Rhys and I are quite happy, we’re just finding it a bit… stagnant. We’ve discussed it at length, and have decided to open our marriage one weekend every month.”

“Wow Feyre,” Coral says. “Are you and Rhys equally excited about that?”

Feyre smiles, looking down at her glass, the flush on her cheeks deepening in colour. “We’ve both got different reasons for wanting it but yes, we are. I’ve had my eye on someone,” Feyre’s gaze meets mine for a split second, “and Rhys knew that. It took a lot of conversations to figure out our boundaries, and they’ll likely evolve over time, but we’re taking the first step.”

“Well congratulations,” Pollux says, raising his glass before taking a swig.

“Thank you,” Feyre says, her eyes finding mine again. I can detect a hint of… longing? Surely not. This wine must be going straight to my head.

The rest of the night goes on without a hitch. We drink and talk and dance until late into the night when we stumble out of the bar, waving goodbye to our friends who are heading in the opposite direction. Feyre’s arm is wrapped over my shoulders as I do my best to keep her upright.

“Mmms love you, Y/N,” Feyre slurs, drawing out the syllables of my name.

“I love you too, Fey,” I answer, quickly grabbing her forearm to stop her falling to the ground.

“You’re the bestest,” she sighs, slumping in my arms.

Just as I’m wondering how we’re going to walk home, the darkness in front of us ripples, revealing Feyre’s mate.

“Feyre Darling,” Rhys coos, scooping her into his arms like she weighs nothing; a stark contrast to my earlier struggles. Feyre wraps her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder. My heart constricts at the sight.

“Perfect timing,” I smile tightly in an attempt to hide my true feelings.

“The bond was muffled and I got worried, though I now understand why,” Rhys explains.

Right, the bond.

“You must be Y/N,” Rhys continues. “She talks about you often.” He smiles, looking down at the female cradled in his arms. “Thank you for taking care of her, do you need to be dropped home?”

“No, thank you. The walk will sober me up.”

“Of course, I’m sure we’ll meet again at some point. Goodnight, Y/N.” Rhys inclines his head before disappearing into the night with Feyre safely in his arms.

The walk home certainly was sobering. How could I be silly enough to believe she thought of me in any light other than as a friend? Surely she meant she was opening her marriage to other males. Not me.

————

A few weeks after our night out, I’ve finally given in to teaching Feyre how to use a pottery wheel. She’d been gushing over my latest collection all week - a series of vases celebrating the divine feminine, the Mother. She was dying to get her hands dirty, quite literally.

The reason I was hesitant to teach Feyre wasn’t because of her artistic talents. No, I hadn’t stopped thinking about her confession. I hadn’t stopped hoping she meant me.

Feyre is perched on a stool across from me, the pottery wheel in between us with a lump of earthenware clay. Feyre had quickly picked up how to work the peddle, now she just needed to use her hands to shape the clay.

She put her fingers into the centre of the ball like I demonstrated, easing the sides outwards as it spins. As she concentrates, her nose scrunches up and she bites her lip. It’s the same face she always makes when she’s engrossed in creating something.

“It keeps getting wider, how do I make it go back in again?” Feyre asks.

“Here,” I put my wet hands on top of Feyre’s, helping her ease the clay in the direction she wanted. “Perfect,” I smile. Feyre looks up from her work to smile back at me. With her focus shifted, her foot slips and the wheel spins out, spraying both of us with muddy water. We both erupt in giggles as we look at the mess covering each other.

“And I thought painting was a messy hobby,” Feyre laughs.

————

Feyre finished her creation - a simple round vase that she has plans to paint once it’s fired.

The two of us are cleaning up our tools and hands in the large basin. The laughter from earlier is gone, leaving us with a comfortable silence.

Feyre sighs, “It’s the last weekend of the month.”

“I do have a calendar,” I tease.

“No I mean, it’s the weekend Rhys and I decided on.”

“Oh,” I say quietly. “Do you have anything planned?”

“I have someone I’d like to ask, but I’ve been a bit worried about how they’ll react,” Feyre admits.

My heart breaks a little bit at her admission. “You do not need to be worried, you’re gorgeous. I doubt anyone could reject you.”

“I guess,” Feyre sighs.

The silence has now grown deafening between you.

Finally, Feyre breaks it.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” she asks.

“Hey, I thought we were talking about you here!” I exclaim.

“We still are. I was hoping you’d like to join me.”

Oh.

OH.

Blood rushes to my cheeks, and I know my mouth has fallen open.

I look down, unable to meet her gaze as my heart races, the sound pounding in my ears. “Yeah, I would like that,” I respond.

————

Kissing Feyre was everything.

Soft lips against mine. Soft hair between my fingers.

Her scent is dizzying.

This kiss is all-consuming.

Every thought, every touch, it’s all her.

Slowly, her hands slip down my body. Brushing down my neck, grazing over my breasts.

We’re in her townhouse. I’m lying on the couch with Feyre on top of me, her thighs on either side of my hips.

We barely made it through the front door before our hands and lips were all over each other.

Feyre sits up, panting as she regains her breath. She peels off her top, throwing it to the side before doing the same with mine.

“I can’t believe you asked,” I say, propping myself up on my elbows.

“I can’t believe you said yes,” she retorts, leaning down to kiss me again.

Feyre kisses down my exposed neck, teasing along my collarbone, surely littering my skin with marks.

She keeps kissing lower, taking one of my hardened nipples into her mouth and sucking. She takes the other between her thumb and finger, pinching softly. I gasp at the sensation, my hips roll, desperately begging for more.

Feyre hums against my chest, nipple still in her mouth as she grazes it with her teeth, eliciting another gasp from me.

“You make such pretty sounds,” she says, swinging her leg over my body to stand on the floor. Feyre extends her hand for me to take. “Let’s go somewhere with more room, I want to explore every inch of you.”

I take her hand, following her upstairs to the bedroom.

We remove the rest of our clothes before Feyre motions for me to lie in the centre of the wide bed. She crawls between my legs, her face hovering centimetres above mine, her hand gentle against my cheek.

Feyre leans down to kiss me again. Each stroke of her tongue is intentional.

I wonder what that tongue would feel like in other places.

I’m not left wondering for long as Feyre moves down my body. She pauses above my exposed sex, stroking down the outside of my thighs.

“So pretty,” she says. “May I?”

“Please,” I moan.

“Such good manners too baby,” Feyre purrs, dipping her head between my legs.

She starts slow, lapping at me like a cat laps at milk.

My hips start rolling and she presses them down firmly.

“So responsive,” she laughs and I whine at the loss of contact.

Feyre goes in with her fingers next, softly tracing along my clit at an agonising pace.

I moan as the strokes turn to circles, giving me even more friction. My eyes close, allowing my body to focus on the feeling.

“I like that noise,” she says, “but what sound do you make when I do this–” Her fingers slide down inside me and she starts to fuck me slowly. My moans get even louder as she starts to curl her fingers, hitting my sweet spot. I writhe beneath her fingers and she starts to pick up her pace.

“You’re doing so good baby, tell Mommy how good it feels,” Feyre says, lowering her mouth to my clit once again.

“Mmmm Mommy, feels so good. Mm so close.” I babble, eyes rolling as Feyre’s tongue circles my clit in tandem with her fingers.

“Cum for me baby,” Feyre says, her fingers keeping their steady pace.

A few more hard thrusts are all it takes to send me barrelling over the edge, crying out as the waves of pleasure roll over me.

“Such a good girl,” Feyre says, slowing her thrusts as I ride out the high.

My body stills as Feyre crawls beside me, wrapping her arms around me. She softly kisses the top of my head as I sigh contentedly.

“How are you feeling?” Feyre asks.

“Phenomenal.”

Feyre laughs at my answer. “Are you tired, or do you want to keep going?” she questions.

“I’m not even close to being done, it’s your turn.”

“Well then, come here and show Mommy some appreciation.”

“Gladly.”

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfiction #requests #feyre archeron #feyre x reader #feyre x y/n #feyre oneshot #acotar #acomaf #feyre smut

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akilikesbread · 9 months ago

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quotes from watching trigun stampede with my friends so SPOILERS:

“Bro he even falls zestily” (in reference to wolfwood)

“oh cool flashback” “more like a VASHBACK am i right? ZINGER” “kys.”

“my lawyers have advised me to not discuss what i would do to his stupid fluffy blonde hair”

WW: “the big man upstairs made me strong” “The big man upstairs made me like people with wires and mandibles.”

*vashs arm gets sucked into a blackhole* “bro wtf, hollow purple”

“boy why you so 🪴”

“motherfucker so gay the cigarette bends the second it touches his mouth”

“this is just a documentary of california”

*BadLads gang shows up* “BL? Boys love? They kiss men?”

*Livio standing menacingly* “SANS???”

*in reference to eye of Michael* “Why’s their logo literally new mexico”

*Legato appearance* “blue hair AND PRONOUNS??” “whats with daman mills and voicing gay men”

*Woowoo getting tortured* “theyre injecting 🏳️‍🌈 into his bloodstream”

*First wolfwood appearance* “He better hit people with that fucking cross”

“he looks hot when hes troubled”

*In reference to Rosa* “If pregnant lady dies i’m leaving the call

“OH MY GOD HES REDPILLED.” “Vashed and redpilled”

“Tricum stampede”

*we were watching on an illegal site so it kept opening new tabs* “AHHHH PORN”

*wolfwood gets fucking bent in half by legato* “Bro where can i get a massage like that”

“Roberto looks like. hold on.” The image sent:

“if the animation was a person i’d make out with them sloppy style. with tongue.”

*in Rollo’s old town with the biblical radio shit* “Guys this sounds just like something my bus driver would say”

*zazie turns into a swarm* “would you still love me if i was a worm :(“

“vash’s mom is pretty” “i’m gonna stop you right there.”

*vash.* “LOOK AT HIS SLUTTY WAIST”

“yeah nai just really liked taking out arms this episode”

*knives playing the piano in the distance* “IS THAT THE GRIM REAPER😨😨😨”

EG Bomber: “MASTER KNIVES😈” my friend in the zestiest voice ever: “master😳”

Vash: *reloading* “THATS SO FUCKING HOOOOTTT” “i wish i was that gun.”

*wolfwood gets fucking run over* “i think hes my new favorite character”

*vash getting chased by the residents of jenora rock* “california has never looked livelier”

“Call me Millions Knives.” “edgy ass emo name, he sounds like hes a 13 year old emo who listens to panic at the disco and cries himself to sleep at night.”

“is this prophetic stress dream bothering you queen”

“i wish Californian sand looked as good here, dont eat the californian sand, its chunky”

*conrad appears* “LUIGI???”

“so this is julai…” “its still may dude, idk how to tell you this”

*Julai screenpan.* “THIS IS JUST VEGAS.”

*wolfwood and vash running away* “me when i skeddadle”

*vash gets shot and walks away* “bros like ‘damn i just got shot :(‘“

“Nicholas the Punisher.” “he can punish me if he wants I MEAN WHAAAAAT”

*That Roberto Scene™️* “*through tears* SO HOW ARE YOU GUYS ENJOYING THE SHOW?”

*Knives dramatically playing piano* “You and that fuckin church organ.”

“5gum stampede”

“Why is nai so jacked???” “theyre both built like brick shithouses”

*Meryl points a gun at conrad* “KILL YOURSELF OLD MAN.”

“WHYS NAI CLENCHING HIS ASS SO HARD…”

“Vash wake up!!” “THIS ISNT LIKE YOU POOKIE”

*Wolfwood steals one last cigarette from Roberto* “Rare cigarette that wasnt fucked up”

“WHO CUT THEIR HAIR.” “Xinqiu.” “Yelan ass haircuts.”

*talking about vash* “hes such a shonen protag. Food friendship and (avoiding) fighting”

“Knives, ur literally gay. i dont wanna hear it.”

“The entrance to the higher plane!” “it looks like a butthole.”

*Knives fucking just floating into the higher dimension* “*cackling*” “WHY HE SLIDE LIKE THAAAT” “stone scraping sound effect”

“Vash shouldve been called damian”

“Prepare mentally for episode twelve, take a deep breath, take a sip of water-“ “KISS A MAN” “DONT KISS A MAN” “KISS A MAN!!!”

*start of episode twelve.* “surely this wont be horrifying”

“I promise to protect you both.” “well you really sucked at that, huh.” “yeah fuck you rem” “HELP???”

*looks at Nai* “Whys he wearing a speedo…”

*Red geranium sprouts in tint Vash’s hand* “NAI LOOK DO YOU WANNA SEE A MAGIC TWICK”

*Running through field of red geraniums* “this reminds me of the angry birds logo”

“metal wing?” “its made of knives, yk, like his name :D” “shut up.” “alright then.”

*chanting* “CUBE!!!!”

“HES GONNA STAMPEDE!!!”

“kiss my vash!!”

#lmao #vash tristamp #trigun stampede #trigun #trigun meryl #vash my beloved #vash saverem #vash the humanoid typhoon #vashwood #vashmeryl #tristamp wolfwood #wolfwood my beloved #nick wolfwood #nicholas d. wolfwood #roberto trigun #there will probably be more added to this #we havent finished it yet so stay tuned

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lyricalt · 2 months ago

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[tf2 minific] LSF: with your invite

fem!(Sniper/Spy) - rated T

Note: I must confess, I’d been trying to lead up to Sniper pulling that sick 10 second bit from the music video, Top or Cliff (at 2:50 in), which is great fun to watch. Couldn't really commit to a whole fic but I decided to just write the fun part anyway.

[Part 1] | [Part 2] | [Part 3]

+++

The final piece of Sniper’s rifle is hidden under a dresser on the third floor of the mansion. She gets down on all fours, ignoring how blood congeals at her side. Her knee pulls at the hem of her dress, getting caught under a pointed heel, and when Sniper bends further down, she hears a faint rip from the seams. Poor Demo’s never going to get her dress back. The dry cleaning alone would be a nightmare.

Sniper gropes beneath the dresser until her fingers find cold, hard metal. She closes her hand around the missing barrel for her rifle. Half of her wonders how the hell Spy managed to squirrel it away with all the other pieces, hiding them throughout the mansion. The other half is just happy to finally have it. When Sniper attempts to pull it free, one end bumps against something soft. Sniper frowns, adjusting the angle, and sets the barrel aside before reaching back in.

She pulls out her own pair of boots, along with a note tucked inside with handwriting that she is very familiar with.

The note reads, ‘You have 45 seconds.’

Sniper lets out a huff of laughter. She sits back, pulling up her dress and happily kicking off those bloody heels. Bugger all three inches of them. She snaps the heels off, shaking out two bullets from the hollow into her palm, before tossing the shoes over her shoulder. Thank fuck, she’ll not have to wear them out.

It takes ten seconds to stomp her blistered feet into her boots proper. The next thirty-five seconds are for putting her rifle together. Luckily, she’s gotten most of it already assembled on her way up. It only cost her a stab at the side from a very pissed maid, but Sniper’s been stabbed plenty times before. No need to fuss over it.

She shakes out her stupid glittery clutch for the scope attachment, and blissfully feels more like herself the moment she slaps it on.

All in all, Sniper is about five seconds late once she goes to the balcony, hiking one leg up against the railing for support. She loads up the rifle and rests the end of the barrel against the balustrade.

Five seconds late means that Spy has done more sweet talking than she would have liked. The mark is a sharp-eyed man, older but still quite handsome, if Sniper had to make an opinion. Spy looks good, clinging at his arm and steering him into a more open part of the gardens. There’s a red lipstick stain at the corner of the man’s mouth. He tilts his head for more, and Spy has to stand up on her toes to give him another kiss. She angles him perfectly.

Sniper inhales, slowly, and adjusts her aim. Pretty, she thinks, and isn’t quite sure if she means the clear sightine, the mark’s forehead, or Spy.

At the apex of her breath, she squeezes the trigger. There’s not a doubt in her mind that she wouldn’t miss.

Spy doesn’t get that second kiss in.

Sniper catches the beginnings of a grin on Spy’s blood-splattered face before she has to look away to reload. Mark’s mark marked. Shot clear right off.

“Hrm,” Sniper muses, pulling the bolt open and shut. She takes out the furthest bodyguard with her last bullet while Spy dispatches the second one with just her bare hands.

Turns out she definitely meant pretty for Spy.

+++

The SMG isn’t where Spy told her it’d be. Sniper peeks behind the kitchen counter for a third time before ducking back as bullets ricochet off pots and pans and various other kitchen things.

“Bugger,” Sniper says, miffed. Her rifle rests in her lap, a little bit useless now in close quarters combat. She tips her head back, letting it thump against the cabinet. There’s the sink in front of her. Above it, a rather large and shiny pan with a nice mirror reflection shows the number of people shooting into the kitchen. Sniper stares at it, glumly. Four. The odds aren’t too great.

Just as Sniper starts to contemplate using the frying pan as a weapon, she hears the sound of her own SMG fire a full round into the kitchen. Sniper waits until the noise putters off. The only sound that comes after is the steady taps of heels walking closer.

A couple of seconds later, Spy peers over the counter. Despite the blood over her face, she looks significantly less bedraggled than Sniper. Probably because she’s the one with the extra gun.

“I didn’t have time to hide the SMG,” Spy says, by way of apology. She tosses the gun to the side, empty and dry.

“S’all right,” Sniper grunts. She doesn’t much like using the SMG in any case. Spray and pray, for good reason. “How’re we lookin’?”

“Fine,” Spy says, which could mean anything. “There’s a sniper covering the front entrance. I saw the muzzle flash from the second story. Third window from the right.”

Sniper glances down at the rifle in her lap. She lets her legs stretch out. The razor cuts have started bleeding again, along with the other lacerations she’s managed to get. Real gashes from broken glass and blades, at least. “Out of bullets, darl. Unless you got one in that ample brassiere of yours.”

Spy rolls her eyes. “Your rifle barrel took up a lot of space.”

Sniper smirks. “...Or are you just happy to see me?”

Spy reaches for her. At first, Sniper is almost convinced Spy really is hot and bothered enough to start fooling around right this second—at this point, she wouldn’t put it past them—but Spy’s hand finds the back of Sniper’s head, drawing her in. It’s an impersonal gesture, completely professional when Spy slides her fingers through Sniper’s braid and pulls off the golden hair brooch and pin.

Sniper’s face heats up anyway. Bugger.

Then she flushes in a different way when Spy unscrews one of the decorative tassels and tips out a third sniper bullet from a hidden slot.

“You didn’t tell me?” Sniper says flatly, holding out her palm. “Thought you said it was a knife.”

Spy places the bullet into her hand, fingers lingering in Sniper’s grasp. She smiles. “Yes, I did not tell you.”

“Anythin’ else you’re not telling me?” Sniper asks, sarcastic, and loads the bullet.

Spy hauls her up, as unrepentant and steady in her heels as ever.

“Plenty,” she promises.

#sniperspy #sniper x spy #fem fortress #fem sniper #fem spy #tf2 #bloody suit #ok im done thanks #fic: lsf

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nausicaamusiclover20 · 3 months ago

Note

Hi, Nausicaa)) I think I have a request a bit on the darker side so I’m not sure if you write it but I’ll take a shot.

ex-boyfriend James whose idea it was to break cause the reader didn’t like his lifestyle desperate to get her back? But not in kinda toxic/ obsessive way? He keeps sending her flowers, if she goes up on a date he ruins it, he makes sure her boss makes her work with Metallica, etc, he just can’t let her go? So she finally gives up and the first thing he does when they get back together is switching her birth control pills with vitamins as a child would make her his forever? I feel like reload or SKOM era would work best?

Don’t worry, I’m a very open-minded person. For me, the important thing is that certain limits aren’t crossed. That said, I hope you like it ❤

Warnings: persistent/obsessive (not toxic) behavior, non-consensual tampering with birth control (addressed within the story), complex family and co-parenting dynamics.

Note: The story concludes character growth, healing, and apositive focus on co-parenting and family unity.

-----

Reckless love

I hadn’t seen James in six months when I started feeling his presence again. It was like he never really left, his memory haunting every corner of my life. It started subtly, just a single flower at my door, then another, then a card.

I tried to ignore it. I tried to tell myself it didn’t matter. But deep down, I knew better. It was his way of trying to pull me back, to remind me of who we were. But I had already made the decision months ago. His lifestyle, his choices, they didn’t align with mine. I couldn’t be the woman he wanted me to be, not when I was suffocating under the weight of his selfishness.

He wasn’t toxic, not in the way people usually describe. He didn’t yell. He didn’t break things or make empty threats. He just needed. And I wasn’t enough anymore.

At least, that’s what I told myself as I threw another bouquet of roses into the trash. I wasn’t going back to him. I couldn’t.

But James never took "no" for an answer. His love wasn’t a plea—it was a command wrapped in charm and regret. When I decided to go on a date with someone else, a quiet dinner at a local bistro, I didn’t expect to see him. I didn’t even see him at first, just a figure slipping into the corner of my peripheral vision. The date was going well. It was easy, simple, no heavy emotional baggage, just two people enjoying each other's company.

And then, out of nowhere, the glass of water I’d ordered exploded, shattering into pieces on the floor with a loud crash. I froze, my heart pounding in my chest as everyone in the restaurant turned to look.

James was standing in the doorway, a smug grin on his face.

"Sorry," he said, eyes twinkling with that mix of arrogance and charm I’d once fallen for. "I didn’t realize you were already occupied." His voice was too loud, too insistent. It was like he’d been waiting for this moment, planning it with obsessive precision. His casual stance suggested this was all part of his grand design.

My date, a good guy, looked uncomfortable but tried to brush it off. I couldn’t, though. I couldn’t look away from James as he strolled toward us, his eyes locked onto mine.

"James," I said, my voice steady but my hands shaking. "What are you doing here?"

"Just making sure you’re alright," he replied, his tone smooth and unbothered. "Seems like you were going to need more than water to wash that taste out of your mouth." He threw a glance at my date, who had awkwardly stood up, clearly trying to process what was happening. "Sorry, man. Didn’t mean to interrupt."

The smile that followed felt like a slap to my face. It was a smile that had once melted me, made me believe his words when he said things like, I can’t live without you or You’re the only thing that matters to me. Now, it was a weapon, a hollow gesture meant to make me feel small, to make me doubt my own decisions.

Before I could say another word, my date excused himself, quietly slipping out of the restaurant. James had already won. And once again, I was left standing with my heart twisted in my chest.

The flowers continued to come. Roses, lilies, daisies—each one a reminder that James wasn’t going to let me go without a fight. But there was something else he was doing, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Every time I went to work, it seemed like there was a new task assigned to me—things I’d never asked for, projects that kept me at the office late into the night. And then, one day, my boss dropped the bombshell.

"You’ll be working with Metallica on the upcoming project," she said, her tone matter-of-fact. "James suggested it. He thinks you'd be perfect for the task."

I froze. Metallica? The band? No. No, it couldn’t be. But sure enough, when I walked into the office the next day, there he was, sitting in the corner with that goddamn smirk, pretending like everything was normal.

I wanted to scream, wanted to run. But I couldn’t. Not yet. He was everywhere now, like a shadow I couldn’t escape.

Time passed, and I began to wear down. Every part of me wanted to move on, to be free, but his persistence kept pulling me back. It was like trying to swim against a riptide. One day, after weeks of him subtly inserting himself into my life, I gave in. We met for coffee. It wasn’t a date. It was just a conversation, a chance to clear the air, to see if we could find some kind of common ground.

He was different, or so I told myself. Apologetic, regretful. There was no arrogance now, no charm. Just vulnerability and a plea for another chance.

"I can’t stop thinking about you," he said, voice raw, eyes pleading. "I’ve tried, believe me, I’ve tried. But every time I think about you, I know I’ve messed up, and I want to fix it. I want to make it right, for us.

I wanted to believe him. I really did. Maybe he had changed. Maybe he was the man I had once loved again. I wanted to forget the things I knew were wrong, to see only what I wanted to see.

And so, I did what I always did when I let him back in: I let him back into my life.

At first, it was slow. Small gestures. He would pick me up from work. He’d cook me dinner. We’d laugh together, reminisce about old memories. It felt like we were starting fresh.

But then, one evening, I started feeling a little off. A little more tired than usual. It had been a long week, sure, but something felt... wrong. My head was foggy, my stomach uneasy.

And then, I found it. In my purse, nestled between my wallet and the receipts, was a tiny bottle of vitamins. I frowned. I didn’t remember buying them, but I shrugged it off. I took one, trying to steady myself. The next morning, the fog hadn’t lifted. And the next, I began to notice a pattern. My birth control pills, the ones I had kept so carefully, so meticulously, were gone. Replaced with those stupid vitamins.

I stared at the bottle, the weight of what he had done crashing down on me. James hadn’t just invaded my life again. He had crossed a line—a line that was not just about my autonomy, but my future.

I had known, deep down, that he couldn’t let me go. But this? This was a new level of manipulation. He didn’t want to love me, not truly. He wanted to own me. And a child would ensure that I was his forever.

I confronted him that night. I didn’t shout. I didn’t cry. I simply stared at him, all the anger and hurt pouring into my eyes.

"What did you do?" I asked, my voice calm, almost too calm.

His eyes widened, but he didn’t deny it. "I... I didn’t want to lose you. I thought—"

"You thought what? That trapping me with a child would make me stay?" The words were sharper now, cutting through the fog of emotions I’d buried for months.

"I thought it was the only way. The only way to keep you with me," he whispered.

I could barely look at him. I had tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, but this? This was beyond anything I could excuse.

"You’ve crossed a line, James," I said, the weight of finality in my voice. "I can’t be with someone who sees me as nothing more than a means to an end."

He didn’t argue. He didn’t try to justify himself anymore. He just stood there, watching me walk away, finally understanding that his desperation had cost him everything.

But as I stood at the door, about to leave him behind once more, something else hit me. There was a new weight in my chest, something more than just betrayal or hurt. Something that terrified me.

"I’m pregnant," I whispered, the words barely a breath on the air between us.

His face went pale. The realization struck both of us like a thunderclap. For a moment, neither of us spoke. We stood there, the past hanging heavy between us, and the future now uncertain.

"James..." I said softly, the truth sinking in. "I can’t keep living like this. But I can’t do this alone either."

His eyes softened, a vulnerability I had never seen before filling them. "I know," he said quietly. "I’ll do whatever it takes. For the baby. For you. I’ll respect your space, your choices... but I’ll be there. I swear."

And in that moment, something changed. We weren’t back together in the way we once had been, but we were something new. Something that, despite the messy history, could still be rebuilt—for the baby.

The next few months weren’t easy. Every conversation was laced with the tension of everything that had come before. But there was a shift in James, a sincerity that hadn't existed before. He didn’t push for anything more than what I was willing to give, and I respected that. His actions—more than his words—spoke volumes. He showed up for appointments, helped me when I needed it, and above all, he never once tried to pull me back into a relationship I wasn’t ready for.

We talked about co-parenting, about making sure our child knew that both of us would always be there, no matter what had happened between us. He apologized, truly apologized, for everything—his actions, his manipulation, his mistakes. And while it wasn’t a perfect apology, it was enough.

The day I found out I was having a boy, I couldn’t stop myself from crying. James was with me, holding my hand, and there was a moment, just a fleeting moment, when I thought—maybe this could work. Maybe we could be a family, in the truest sense of the word, even if it wasn’t the family we once imagined.

We didn’t rush back into anything. But we shared in the moments that mattered—the first kicks, the baby shower, setting up the nursery. It wasn’t about romance. It was about creating a safe, loving space for our child, one where they would never feel the weight of our past mistakes.

And when the baby was born, tiny and perfect, the first thing James did was hold him and whisper softly, “I’ll make it up to you. I swear I will.”

I didn’t know what the future would hold for us. I didn’t know if we would ever find our way back to the kind of love we once had—or if we were meant to stay apart. But for the sake of our son, we chose to stay in each other's lives. To raise him as best as we could, with all the care and respect we could offer, despite everything that had come before.

And maybe that was enough.

As I watched James with our son, I saw a man who had changed, not because of some grand gesture or manipulation, but because of the responsibility he now felt. He wasn’t perfect. Neither was I. But in that moment, holding our child between us, it didn’t matter. We weren’t a couple anymore—but we were something even more important.

We were a family.

And maybe that was all we could ask for.

#metallica #metallica oneshot #metallica fanfiction #metallica fluff #jameshetfield #jameshetfieldxreader #james hetfield fluff #james hetfield one shot #james hetfield imagine #james hetfield angst #metallica angst #angst with a happy ending #posessive love

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novasintheroom · 1 year ago

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Learning to shoot - Vash x Reader

Now part of the 150 Bullets drabble series on AO3!

A glistening brown bottle sits squarely on a fence post. It didn’t have much to do today, other than sit pretty. And, hopefully, get shot off its seat.

POP! BANG!...POP POP!

That doesn’t look likely.

Another bullet cracks by the bottle’s neck. You groan, lowering your gun. “Eleven bullets,” you mutter, adding them up as a shopping list for the next town. “This is stupid.” Then, louder, “This is stupid! I can’t hit it; I’m wasting your bullets!”

“No, you’re not,” Vash says. He sits on a nearby rock, munching on a maple-frosted donut for breakfast, your own powdered jelly sitting precariously close to his wandering hands. Through a mouthful of pastry, he calls, “Try again! Feet wide!”

You sigh loudly for emphasis. Fumbling to reload the gun, a few golden bullets spill on the sand. You grit your teeth. “What does it matter that I learn to shoot something? I’ve gotten this far without it!”

“Yeah,” Vash swallows half his donut in one go, licking his fingers, “but you’re traveling with me now. And you asked to learn anyway.”

“Didn’t think I’d have to get up at the butt-crack of dawn to shoot a bottle, though.”

Vash hums and stuffs the rest of the donut in his mouth. “Just don’t want you shooting anyone’s head off.”

And that was fair. Vash could take care of himself and others with his gun. You, squeamish as you are with weapons, are a hinderance to this status quo. You know this, and Vash knows this, though he’ll never admit it. You try to be a good travelling companion, but it’s hard when you can’t defend yourself. Poor Vash has been put through enough gun fights and brawls just to protect you.

You take a steady breath and go into a wide stance. It’s your turn to protect yourself. You raise the little pistol and spot down your arm the glint of amber twenty feet away.

Steady. Aim.

POP!

The shot goes wide.

A frustrated snarl rips your throat. “Vash– “

“Hold on, just,” he trots over with a smile and goes behind you, “you’re locking your knees. Keep them bent just a bit. It’ll help with the recoil.” He kicks at your left foot. “Keep one leg a bit behind, too.”

“I’ve been doing that,” you grump, but do as he says. It’s awkward, standing like this, but you suppose it’ll get easier with more practice. “Okay, so I just – “

“Just a sec.”

His side presses into yours, and your breath stills. One of his arms comes up to hold your own. You can smell the maple on his breath. “Relax your shoulders,” he presses his hand into the groove of your shoulder and neck, “you want to be firm, not frozen. And – “ he leans forward, adjusting where you’re pointing, “try aiming a little higher than you have been.” He whispers something to himself, the words brushing the shell of your ear.

Goosebumps spread across your arms, and you’re grateful to have a jacket hiding them.

Careful of the warble in your voice, you ask, “I’ve seen you shoot with both eyes open and one eye shut. Which is better?”

Vash shuffles, his chest brushing against your back. “Keep both eyes open when you’re close to a target,” he says, “if you need more focus, close your weaker eye.” At your nod, he leans forward. His lips almost brush your ear. “Try again now.”

A hush comes. There is only the bottle, the gun, the sound of Vash’s coat brushing against your own clothes. You let out a long breath…

…BANG!

The bottle sprays apart in a shower of golden shards. An involuntary yelp erupts from your throat, and suddenly you’re cheering, turning around to hug Vash. He laughs and squeezes you tight.

“I did it!” you shriek in his ear. “I shot it!”

“Careful, put the safety on!” He grabs the gun out of your flailing hands and locks it up. Safe from friendly fire, he hands the gun back and smiles. “See? It’s not so bad.”

You holster the gun. “Well, it’s fun when it’s not something living! Can we try again?” He winces, and you mirror it. “Um…after the next job, I mean. Need to get more bullets, huh?”

He laughs. “Maybe we can find some rubber bullets in one of these towns soon. Then you can use as many as you want!”

“Maybe…” You stop and lean closer to his face. Your hand comes up to trail at his cheek. Vash feels his ears go pink, his cheeks redden. What are you…? Did you want to…?

“Is that…donut powder?”

His hopes are dashed, replaced with primal fear as realization dawns. “Uh…”

“Vash! Did you eat my donut?!”

He backs away with nervous laughter. “Uh…I – well I – “ He takes off, and can’t help but laugh at your shriek of rage as you give chase. He laughs again when you curse his long legs. “It’s payment for the bullets! The bullets!”

Well, at least your morning is eventful.

#trigun #trigun stampede #vash the stampede #tristamp #vash the stampede x reader #vash x reader #nova writes #yay my first longer drabble!#i hope you like it :)#writing

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helix-enterprises117 · 9 months ago

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Halo Reloaded: Cat Ears

John-117, the legendary Spartan, master of all things military and perhaps not so masterful at the subtler art of humor, found himself utterly disarmed—not by anything dangerous by any stretch of the imagination, but by the unexpected addition of mechanical cat ears on Linda-058's helmet. Leaning casually against the cool, unforgiving metal of the UNSC frigate's hangar wall, he observed Linda tinkering with the ears. They twitched with a life of their own, probably zeroing in on the soft hum of the ship's engines or the distant clatter of a dropped wrench somewhere across the bay.

"Cute, aren't they?" Linda's voice cut through his thoughts, her tone playful yet edged with a challenge, as if daring him to comment.

Caught in the act of staring, John straightened up, adopting the slight smirk that usually preceded his attempts at banter. "Cute? That’s a term for kittens and babies, not something I’d expect to see on a Spartan’s battle gear."

Linda chuckled, her helmet now cradled in one arm as she turned to face him fully. "Oh come on, John. You need to broaden your horizons. These ears are the latest in auditory enhancement tech. And yes, they are cute—might help lighten up the mood when we're knee-deep in grunt guts."

John picked up the helmet, examining the ears with a mixture of curiosity and bemusement. "Practical and cute. Still, it’s a bit out there for a Spartan. We're supposed to intimidate, not... charm."

"Who says we can't do both?" Linda quipped, leaning back against the workbench with an easy grace. "Imagine the look on an Elite’s face when they get dropped by someone wearing these. Adds a whole new layer to psychological warfare."

John snorted, the sound muffled by the hangar’s vast emptiness. "I’ll just stick to my usual scare-them-silly routine. You can keep the charming to yourself."

Linda’s grin widened. "Afraid you can't pull it off?"

"Terrified," John admitted, playing along with the light-hearted jab. "There's a fine line between charming and ridiculous."

"Well, if anyone could manage it, it’d be you," Linda responded, pushing off from the bench to stand closer to him. Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "Just think, John. You, with cat ears—might make the rookies less jumpy around you."

"They’re supposed to be jumpy. Keeps them on their toes," John retorted, though the twinkle in his eye betrayed his amusement.

Linda sighed dramatically. "There you go again, all doom and gloom. Maybe it’s time for a new approach. We could start a trend. Spartans: the fierce warriors who can also do 'adorable.'"

"Adorable isn’t very Spartan," John grumbled, though the smirk lingering on his lips suggested he found the concept more amusing than he let on.

"Neither was fatherhood, but look at us now," Linda pointed out softly, her tone shifting as she touched on the new, uncharted territory they were about to navigate together.

John’s features softened, the playful banter fading into a moment of sincere connection. "That’s different. This is... what we never expected but I wouldn’t change it."

"Exactly," Linda smiled gently, reaching out to take his hand. "We adapt. We overcome. Cute ears and all."John squeezed her hand, his voice firm yet warm with affection. "Together."

"Always," Linda agreed, her smile matching his. "With or without the cat ears."

#halo fanfic #halo #halo fanfiction #john 117 #master chief #halo headcanon #halo au #master chief fanfic #master chief fanfiction #halo reloaded #ultimate halo #helix studios117 #john 117 x linda 058 #linda 058 #john/linda

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rlyc00l · 6 months ago

Text

Rhys is going to put his skills to work and make these people trust the crap out of him if it kills him (Actually, he doesn't want it to kill him, he's actually going to try to avoid dying). Zer0's ego goes through some stuff. Everyone could benefit from like, team building exercises or something.

Also under the cut

The first thing Rhys did, after giving up on lying sleeplessly and considering his new position, was draft a message for Vaughn and Yvette. “Hey, I’m alive, on Pandora. Vasquez tried to have me killed. Sorry for doubting you. I don’t know what he’s gonna do now, be careful. I’ll be back soon.” He paused and deleted the “soon”, replacing it with “Sorry to be vague. I’ll explain everything next time I see you.” before sending. It wouldn’t satisfy them. When he got back to Helios, he’d launch the two of them up the corporate ladder (just slightly below himself) to make it up to them. And then he’d brag about this forever.

But first, he had to secure his victory.

Step one: Gaining trust. He’d been a pro at that up on Helios. Building trust with your coworkers was one of those pillars of success in business (it went hand-in-hand with “strategic betrayal”). There was even an acronym: DARGH. Dependability, Approachability, Respect, Gratitude, and Honesty. Three out of five were easy, he could do those without trying. He’d have to do away with honesty, which left dependability. Dependability required competency, and he was far from competent in this setting. He still hadn’t even figured out how to reload. Luckily, he had the ECHOnet. He activated his ECHOeye and pulled up everything the Hyperion database could teach him about guns and shooting, and found diagrams of the two guns in his possession.

By sunrise he was outside, dry firing the pistol while aiming at distant bullymong holes, trying to get used to the gun’s auto-stabilizers.

“What are you doing?”

Rhys flinched, fumbling with the gun. It was Zer0, of course. The others were still asleep. His immediate impulse was to snap at them–why the hell were they always there? He restrained himself for the sake of DARGH and instead summoned all his Hyperion brand faux-affability.

“Oh, hey Zer0.” Fake smile. Cheery voice. “I-I’m practicing. Getting ready for today, you know? You’re welcome to join.” Goddamn, that sounded phony. He was better than this. The whole double agent thing was throwing him off his game.

Zer0 looked at him, then his gun. “There’s a camp, not far. / Living targets are better. / With a loaded gun.”

“That…I-I’m good, thanks. I’d rather conserve ammo, y’know? For those uh, those Fleshripper guys?”

“There’s a vendor, there.” They thumbed over their shoulder. An Ammo Dump vending machine leaned haphazardly against a nearby building.

“I don’t have–”

“Oh, right. Your wallet’s empty. / Save your bullets, then.” A smiley face.

“W-wait, you saw who stole my money?”

They ignored that. “Still, practice, needless. / Today, I’ll kill the bad guys. / Just stand back again.” The word “coward” didn’t fit at the end of their haiku, but it was implied. Their “>:P” made that clear.

Later, as they ventured through Fleshripper territory, he did his best not to deserve the label. At least, his best within reason. He stood back, sure, but only because he didn’t have a shield and the others did. A thrown buzzaxe bounced right off of Axton’s head when it would have split his skull open otherwise. Salvador walked right into oncoming gunfire to kill the shooter. A grenade landed at Gaige’s feet and only gave her a few scratches. A shield was undeniably a necessity, here.

Rhys checked bodies for one when he got the chance, but there was little intact for him to take. A few dollars here, some bullets there. The bandit’s actual killers got first dibs on everything. So he was forced to shoot from afar, careful to avoid his “allies”. Most of his shots missed, but sometimes they hit, and sometimes the bandits died. Those kills didn’t feel like that first time, but at least he wasn’t almost dying. Small victories.

A further small victory came for his “DARGH initiative”. With Zer0, of all people.

Bringing up the rear occasionally put him near them, when they’d switch from up-close fighting to sniping. Their sudden appearances had startled him the first few times. They seemed to teleport, but it was a clever combination of hologram and cloaking technology. Rhys found that if he paid attention, he could sometimes see when their footprints in the snow parted from the hologram. Even then, he missed it more often than not.

Zer0 may have been a total asshole, but it was pretty cool to watch. They’d appear with their sword buried in one man’s back. When the next bandit fired on them, the hologram would feign an attack from the front while they climbed a nearby roof, blowing his brains out without him ever knowing he’d been tricked. Rhys wondered if Jack knew about their method, or if he should report it. If Zer0 meant to fight Hyperion, the soldiers should be forearmed with that knowledge, the way these Fleshrippers weren’t.

As he was considering recording them for Jack, a gunshot rang off from his left and two bandits dropped dead at the same time. Zer0 appeared with their sniper rifle on a low roof next to him. “Holy crap. Did…Did you just do that?”

“Yes.” They projected a “:D”.

“That was actually pretty badass.”

They didn’t respond, only moved to a higher position, taking out another pair of bandits the same way, then a third with a headshot.

If he didn’t know better, he would have thought they were showing off. But there was no way they cared what he thought, right? It was worth testing. Rhys was well-practiced in the art of sycophancy. “You, uh, you think you could hit that guy way down there before Krieg gets to him? The one taking cover behind the crates.”

The bandit in question was on the other side of camp, firing at Krieg as he charged. Only a small portion of his head was visible.

A second after he said it, they’d shot, and the bandit’s head vanished in a spray of red. Krieg slowed to a stop, with a bellow of “Disappointed!”

“Nice!” The enthusiasm in his voice wasn’t hard to fake. He never expected Zer0 might actually be easy to win over.

“As I said before. / You need not participate. / I’ve got this handled.”

“Right, clearly.” It was the same on Helios, flattery didn’t get you respect in return. Still, if he’d swallowed his pride and sucked up to Vasquez, the man wouldn’t have tried to blow him up. Zer0 was more the “literal backstabber” type, but still, the point stood.

———

Captain Flynt, leader of the Fleshripper bandits, was the last thing standing between the Vault hunters and the mainland. He’d made his throne on a wrecked freighter sitting precariously atop an icy clifftop. Rhys lost count of how many the group had killed on the trek through the surrounding camps and the climb up to the ship’s deck. At that point, a reasonable person would surrender. Captain Flynt wasn’t a reasonable person.

Claptrap had raced in ahead of the rest of them, waiting at the top of the ramp that led to the ship’s deck. “Yoohoo! Minions, this way!” He waved them on impatiently.

Maya stopped there. “We should go in with a plan. One would have to be pretty hard to kill to lead a bandit clan of this size for more than a week, and Hammerlock claims he’s tough.”

Zer0 barely glanced at her as they moved on after Claptrap.

“I was thinking we shoot him full of bullets. Until he dies.” Salvador said, passing her.

“Yeah, that was more or less what I was gonna say?.” Axton stopped for only a moment, hesitating before jogging after Zer0. “Sorry, not about to let them get all the glory!” he called over his shoulder.

“I need to get keelhauled!” Krieg followed the other three.

“Hey, wait up!” Gaige had the decency to look guilty as she passed. “Sorry, Maya, but I mean, we have more guns?”

Rhys could only offer a shrug. “For what it’s worth, I was onboard with the ‘having a plan’ plan.”

The battle was underway by the time he and Maya caught up. Flynt wasn’t alone, at least twenty more bandits fought alongside him. He was unmistakable among his cohorts. The man dwarfed even Krieg–but part of that might have been the thick, padded suit and the tall horns atop his helmet. He wielded both a flamethrower and an entire anchor with ease. Also, he was on fire, which didn’t seem to bother him.

Yesterday, Rhys might have stayed on the ledge overlooking the deck, never directly joining battle. Today, he had a promotion and a turbomansion to look forward to, and DARGH to think of. Amazing what getting contacted personally by Handsome Jack could do to a guy. At least, it was enough to make Rhys hop down onto deck–only to slip on a patch of ice and fall on his face. Thankfully, this went unnoticed. The bandits were too occupied with those who got there before him. Each Vault hunter seemed to be fighting their own battle. Huge plumes of fire intermittently shot up from the vents in the deck, leaving thick clouds of smoke in its wake. Maya was already further up, he saw a flash of purple lift Flynt into the air. A buzzaxe-wielding bandit took notice of him as he was getting to his feet. Rhys shot him as he charged, and he stumbled to the ground and didn’t rise again. Then a second bandit was shooting at him. Bullets whizzed past his face, barely missing. Finding flimsy cover behind a wooden crate, he returned fire. Either one of Rhys’s bullets hit the mark, or someone else’s did. Regardless, that bandit fell too.

He got another glimpse of Flynt near the broken edge of the ship. Zer0 was behind him, sword bearing down at his back. Flynt turned, delivering a blow with his anchor that knocked them off their feet. He lifted the anchor, ready to bring it down on them. Flames went up. Rhys fired a few shots where he’d seen Flynt. The fire faded. Flynt was running at Salvador, whose pair of shotguns seemed to do little to slow him. No sign of Zer0.

“Krieg, come on! You’re in the way!” He heard Axton before he saw him. He was shooting over a pile of crates. His turret was perched on a crate firing at Flynt, only, Krieg was in front of its target.

Fire again. A flaming bandit came rushing out of a nearby vent, screaming in agony. Rhys backed up, pulled the trigger. Out of ammo. The bandit fell anyway. He ducked behind cover. His shotgun held only two shots in it, and he’d never actually used it before. It would be better to stay here and wait for the fighting to stop. He heard more screaming–a voice that had to be Gaige’s.

Could be a hero. That’d be worth points.

He moved along the intact edge–towards the screams, trying to keep track of Flynt. The jet of fire from his flamethrower gave him away on the far side of the ship.

When he found Gaige she was crouched behind a junk pile, reloading her submachine gun. Her robot was fighting off a bandit on the other side. Another three bandits lay dead nearby.

“You okay?” he needed to raise his voice to be heard over the battle. She was soaked in sweat and covered in ash but otherwise, she looked okay.

She gave him a strange look, then turned to finish that last bandit.

He ducked down next to her. “I–someone was screaming. Was that Maya?” It hadn’t sounded like Maya.

“Oh! Yeah, that was me! Look at this shit.” She stuck out her leg. Her nylon tights had partially burned away, revealing her calf red and blistered beneath it. “Hurt like a bitch!” She’d sounded like she was being murdered. “Right. So you’re not in any immediate trouble?”

“Nope. You’re bleeding, by the way. Like a lot.” She turned back to the battle. It was quieter now.

“Haha, what?” He looked down, not seeing any blood on him. “No, I’m not.” “Your face.”

He was so soaked in sweat, it took a moment to find the blood on the right of his face, longer to find the gash starting at his temple and ending just past his ear. He hadn’t felt it until now, but suddenly his body seemed to remember that this was supposed to hurt. “Oh jeez… How…How bad is it?” “I think you just got grazed, dude. You’re fine.”

“Owwww…” It burned.

Gaige, put away her gun, getting to her feet. “Anyway, I think we’re done?”

Clutching his head, he followed her lead. There were dead bandits everywhere. On the far side was Flynt, lying in a heap on the deck. Flames had stopped coming up from the vents. “Huh, wonder if he was like, remotely controlling the fire somehow…”

“Dunno.” Rhys couldn’t find it in himself to be that curious right now. He couldn’t remember the last time so much blood was coming out of him. “First time being shot?” Axton joined him and Gaige as they crossed the deck to meet with the others.

“Kinda hope it’s my last.” Axton laughed. “Good luck with that.” He looked him up and down. “Hell, did you ever get a shield?”

“Couldn’t find one.” “Why didn’t you say something?” Axton stopped, opening his storage deck holoscreen. He was using his left hand, his right hung at his side, covered in blood.

“Kind of got the sense that uh, begging would be a bad look?”

Axton shrugged. “This isn’t Hyperion. And I mean, a little more to the left and you’d be dead.” He’d produced a Tediore shield, handing it to Rhys.

“Thanks.” He clipped it to his belt.

They passed Salvador, looting a corpse. “Y’all see what happened to Zer0?” he asked. “Cuz if they’re dead, I already called dibs on that gun. The acid one.”

Rhys glanced at where he’d last seen them, half expecting their mangled corpse. They weren’t there, but between the sheer number of corpses and trash on deck, they could still be dead and he’d just missed them. He didn’t feel like looking so hard, his head hurt.

Maya and Krieg waited outside the deckhouse, beneath Flynt’s throne. Krieg sat on a still-panic-moded Claptrap. A buzzaxe was half buried in his shoulder, and Maya was trying to calm him enough to pull it out. She scowled when she saw them. “Couldn’t have spent a few minutes trying to coordinate an attack?”

“Hey, the guy’s dead, right? And we’re alive.” Axton radiated self-satisfaction.

“Hell yeah, you are!” Claptrap popped out of his panic-mode, almost knocking Krieg over as he rolled out to gloat over Flynt’s corpse. “Take that, Flynt! My minions are certified badasses!”

Maya ignored Claptrap, grabbing the buzzaxe’s hand with both hands. “Your turret drained Krieg’s shield.” She gritted her teeth as she yanked the blade out.

“No! I needed that there!” Krieg protested. The wound already began to knit together before Maya jabbed a hypo in the flesh near it. “Augh! How will I find anything now?!”

She ignored that too. “Not to mention, if I hadn’t made it in time, Salvador would have gotten crushed by that anchor. And, I have no idea where Zer0 went.”

“Another one into the pit!” That one took her a moment. “Wait, they went over the side?”

Krieg tensed, grabbed his head, and then managed an exaggerated nod. “Anchors aweigh!” Crap.” She looked around at the others. “There’s more hypos inside, get yourselves fixed up. I’m going back for Zer0.”

Inside the deckhouse was what once was a lounge for the crew, when this was still a functioning corporate cargo ship. Now, maybe it was still a lounge, but hanging from the ceiling were bouquets of human skulls, and staked to the dart board was a man’s corpse, dead at least a few weeks. After the bandit camps, this kind of decor seemed pretty standard. Rhys took a seat on one of the lopsided, threadbare couches opposite the corpse. At least it was cold enough it didn’t smell, much.

Gaige, Salvador, and Axton were going through the chests and crates that lined that wall, arguing over loot. “I did get the kill, so y’know, I think I should get the shotgun.” “You only got the kill because my turret softened him up!”

“Oh come on, you guys killed one guy, me and Deathtrap killed like, a gazillion of them while you were fighting him.”

“Those little guys? I was saving them for after.”

“Yeah, they weren’t exactly our primary objective.”

“So next time I should just let them shoot at you? Cuz I totally will.”

Rhys tuned them out, absently studying the crude map next to the dartboard corpse as he tried to distract himself from the pain. The map must have been made by one of the bandits, it was an indecipherable mess, there was no way it was to scale. Was that supposed to be the ocean? Then that there would probably be Sanctuary… But what was that thing in the center? It didn’t match up with the maps he studied in his ECHOeye, but maps of border planets tended to be lacking…

“Oh, right, Rhys!” Axton crossed the room to him, holding out a hypo. There was a bullet hole in his forearm, rapidly closing up as he offered it. “Hate to see a face like that go to necrosis.”

He took it with a “Right, thanks so much,” and a forced smile. It was only once his face started to heal that he realized Axton had probably been flirting with him. He didn’t know what to do with that fact, did it still count as a win for DARGH? Did that mean he was doing a good job winning these people over, or should he just take it as a testament to his looks?

It was then that Zer0 finally limped into the cabin, just ahead of Maya. They crossed the room without looking at any of the others. “The path is open. / We board Claptrap’s freakin’ boat. / And get out of here.” They sounded pissed.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself!” Claptrap said as he followed them. “Let's board me mighty vessel and kiss the shelf goodbye!”

“Woah, wait, Zer0, You alright, dude?” Axton asked.

“Yes,” they said.

“Cause I have like, one more insta-health here.” He held up another hypo, smirking.

“Give me it.” “I dunno. If you’re okay, I might save it for later. Does our untouchable assassin really need some healing?”

Zer0’s hand closed around the hilt of their sword. “You have eyes.”

“Axton, just give them the damn instahealth.” Maya stepped in.

Axton sighed, and Zer0 snatched it up. “This feels like enabling their crap, y’know?”

———

Considering that the boat they were to take belonged to Claptrap, Rhys expected the prize to be some sad little dinghy. He wasn’t well-versed on boats, but it had actually probably been some sort of fishing trawler. He wasn’t sure how a Claptrap would end up with something like that, but it had SS Claptrap spray painted on it. It was a good-sized boat, even with eight passengers there was space to spare. Sturdy, too, though that didn’t make Rhys feel much better as they lowered it into the water from a pair of cranes attached to Flynt’s wreck. He clung to the side as it was slowly lowered into the water, wondering if the shield would save him from falling to his death. Every bump felt like it might be the end, but somehow the ship touched down without incident.

“So, how long is it to the mainland?” Gaige asked when they finally got moving.

“Fifteen hours! But don’t worry chums, I’m sure it’ll pass in a flash! I know some great boat trip games!”

“Ugh. If anyone needs me I’m gonna go over there and tune up Deathtrap.”

“Yeah, uh, shouldn’t you be steering? Keep us from hitting any icebergs, or something?” Rhys tried.

“You’re absolutely right! I guess you guys can have fun, I’ll provide the background music. Just gotta load up some sea shanties, and it’ll be a party in no time!”

Rhys just hoped that Pandora wasn’t home to any horrific sea monsters. Before anything else, he found a tiny little bathroom in the boat’s cabin, a mirror on the door. There was a sink, but no water ran through it. Instead, he was stuck wiping what blood and sweat he could get off with his sleeve–Maybe Sanctuary would have actual laundry machines.

It was then that Vaughn called him back, the notification lit up in his ECHOeye. He ignored it, no telling what the Vault hunters would do if they caught him communicating with someone on Helios. A moment later he got the voicemail and played it directly into his implants.

“Holy shit, Rhys. I just saw your message. I’m so glad you’re okay. Or, I hope you’re okay. I’m gonna choose to believe you’re not answering because you are busy actively surviving that hellhole. What happened? Where are you? Can we do anything to help? Yvette can send down supplies? You, uh, you don’t have to worry about us. Get this, Vasquez disappeared, his nameplate’s gone, office cleaned out, no one knows what’s going on. But supposedly, he got called in for a meeting with Jack, and you know… Try to get back up here soon. And don’t drink the water down there! Or eat anything weird. Call me back. If you’re still alive, I mean.”

Rhys texted a reply, practicing with the ECHOeye functionality he’d used to message Jack: “Still alive. Can’t call you, I’m surrounded by bandits. We’ve reached an understanding though, they trust me. I’m not going to be in mortal danger anytime soon unless I start openly talking to someone on Helios.”

The text response from Vaughn came a minute later: “Holy shit, dude. Are you sure they’re not planning to eat you? I heard Pandora is chock full of cannibals.”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay, still, you should really find a Hyperion base or something.” “I’ll keep an eye out.” A lie, but he wasn’t about to give too much away.

“I gotta get back to work, Don’t want anyone else up here getting called into Jack’s office. I’ll message later. But seriously, you need anything, let me or Yvette know.” “Yep. See you later.” He had to smile–Vaughn had nothing to worry about up there, Jack had already done him a favor and gotten Vasquez out of the way. He played this right and he could get his friends comfy, safe positions before this was over.

He passed Axton on his way out of the cabin, already napping on one of the little cots.

Outside, the rest of them were keeping their distance from each other. Krieg was at the prow of the ship, yelling incoherently at the sea ahead. Maya sat on a crate nearby, somehow ignoring him enough to be reading a book. Gaige worked on her robot, disassembled parts laid out across the deck in front of her. Salvador was cleaning his shotgun. Zer0 was just leaning against the side of the boat, arms crossed, things like “B0R3D”, “...”, and “UGH” occasionally flashing over their helm.

Claptrap, at least, was too occupied with steering to bother anyone with more than singing.

Everyone still seemed too tense to approach, but he still had a lot of material on the Hyperion database that may or may not come in handy to study. He sat down leaning against the cabin’s outer wall, and pulled up an entry of their destination, Three Horns.

“Three Horns is a small region named for its three stone crags. Ringed by mountains to the east and precipitous cliffs to the west, the area is…”

“That should be removed.” Zer0’s voice interrupted his reading. They were kneeling in front of him. “Before we reach the city. / It may get you killed.”

“Wha..?” He closed out of the ECHOeye entry. “What?”

They poked his chest. “Oh. Yeah.” It barely peered out under the bandit’s jacket, only the “Hy” visible, but it was undeniably Hyperion’s logo on his vest

“In Sanctuary / I hear they find clever ways / Of killing your kind.” They projected a “;)”.

“Right…” It was a nice vest. Expensive, hardy. He couldn’t just throw the whole thing out. But he could probably cut through the stitching. “You’ve got a knife or something?”

“Yes,” they said.

He waited. They made no move to offer him anything.

“Can I use it?”

They cocked their head, seeming to consider for a moment. “No.” They stood and returned to their prior spot.

After half an hour of fighting with the label, he’d managed to pull it a third of the way off. Hyperion stitching was good. He was considering resorting to using his teeth when a folded pocket knife landed in front of him. He looked up to see Zer0, and took the knife with a “Thanks? Wish you’d given this to me before?”

The knife was marked “DAHL”.

“Er…Did…Did you steal this from Axton?”

“He is still sleeping. / If I were you, I’d work fast. / He will wake angry.” They projected a “:3”.

#zerhys #borderlands #tftbl #zer0 the assassin #rhys strongfork #fic #decepti0n

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enid-rhees · 1 year ago

Note

haii!!! can i throw another request your way?

can you write a fic on enid where fem reader is a gun expert in alexandria, where enid is eager to learn how to shoot a gun, and she gets paired with reader? so basically, fem trains enid, and because of this, she finds herself attracted to the brunette. but enid is rather cold and emotionless, so she's worried about not having her feelings get reciprocated. one day, when enid is waiting for fem to show up for training, fem doesn't show up. so enid goes looking for her, only to find her drunk in her house. she tries helping her to bed but fem inadvertently confesses her love for enid, to which enid promises to stay by her side forever.

i hope you're enjoying your week!! stay well :D

kind regards f.f

drunken confession || enid rhee x fem!reader

warnings: reader being intoxicated, please drink responsibly!

a/n: thank you so much for your request, anon! i hope you all enjoy 🫶🏻 and thank you to the amazing @elisiassideb1tch for editing the photos 🫶🏻

Enid Rhee Masterlist

you didn’t exactly have a fascination for guns, but you were good with them, and you decided to put it to good use when you arrived in Alexandria. its been over a year since you’ve been here, and you had become somewhat of a trainer to the citizens of Alexandria.

they’d all have to learn to fight one way or another, and having you there made it easier for them to learn how to use different types of guns. Deanna even let you use an empty building to create a small, makeshift gun range.

you took down the shot pieces of paper and started to replace them with new ones you had just drawn out this morning. not only did you teach others how to use the guns, you also drew out the aim sheets for people to practice on.

as you put up the last sheet, a few knocks landed on the front door of the building. you finished pinning it to the wall and walked over to the door. when you opened it, you weren’t expecting to see Enid, a girl you’ve seen around before, but never spoken to.

“hey,” you smiled. “what can i do for you?” Enid pulled at her shirt sleeves before she spoke up. “i really wanna learn how to shoot… do you think you can teach me?” her voice was quiet, and she didn’t really make eye contact with you.

“i’d be happy to.” you told her, stepping aside so she could walk in. “was there any gun you had in mind that you wanted to try out?” you asked once she was inside, and she started to follow you to the room where everything was. “any gun, really. i want to learn to use as many as possible.”

Enid already seemed more determined than most people you had taught. but you still wanted to start off easy at first. “okay! we can do multiple sessions a week if you’d like. but today, why don’t we start off easy with a just a pistol?” Enid nodded, “alright.”

you took a pistol off the wall and reloaded it with ammo. “stand here.” you instructed, pointing down at the red tape on the floor. Enid stood over it and you handed her the gun. “don’t put your finger on the trigger immediately, especially if the safety is off. you can hurt someone or yourself. keep one hand here,” you gently took her hand in yours and placed it on the gun. a wave of electricity struck through your body.

“and the other here,” you took her other hand in yours, trying ignore the second spark of electricity you felt. you shook it off and took a deep breath. “now… lift you arms up, almost at your eye level. make sure you have a clear sight of where you want to shoot.”

Enid did as told, lifting her arms up at the drawing. “place your finger on the trigger.” you said, and Enid did so. “good. now… again, make sure you know what you want to shoot. keep your eyes locked on it, and then go for it.” you backed away from her and watched her concentrate on the paper.

a few seconds later, Enid shot the gun, and the bullet went right through the chest of the faceless person on the paper. Enid sighed, “i was going for the head.” she mumbled. “you still did great,” you encouraged, “most don’t even hit the chest on their first attempt. you’ll get better in no time, as long as we keep practicing.”

Enid smiled, but only slightly. “you wanna practice more?” you offered, and Enid nodded. “alright, do what i did last time, if you’re still aiming for the head, put your hands up a bit higher than last time. make sure your hands are steady, and your feet are planted on the ground.”

another few seconds went by, and then Enid shot the gun again. you watched the bullet go through the head in a clean shot. “yeah!” you cheered. “nice, Enid! you’ll be an expert in no time.”

Enid shrugged, “bit too early to say that, don’t you think?” you shook your head. “not at all. a headshot on your second try? that’s great, dude. don’t doubt yourself.”

you looked outside and noticed the sky beginning to grow darker. “it’s getting late, but i’m free all day tomorrow if you want to practice more.”

“yeah, this sounds good.” Enid nodded. you took out the keys that belonged to the building and locked it up once you and Enid were back outside. “if you need me for anything else, my house is that one.” you pointed over to the house that was across from the building. “thanks.” Enid said back in response before walking off without saying anything else. you watched her walk away for a few seconds, a little stunned by her cold way of speaking, but that didn’t stop a smile from painting your lips.

you walked into your own home and set your shoes by the door, making your way to the kitchen afterwards. while you microwaved some leftover food, your mind couldn’t help but wander to Enid. today was the first day you had spoken to her, but you’ve seen her very few times before that. she was always distant from everyone. today wasn’t all that different. but something about it captivated you.

you couldn’t lie that you were now a bit excited to see her again tomorrow.

“okay. i think you’re pretty good with the pistol, so let’s start off slightly harder.” you took a pump shotgun off the wall and handed it to her. “now, these have a bit of kickback when you shoot. but i’ll be here behind you incase.” you said softly, and Enid nodded.

“don’t forget what i taught you yesterday. that goes for any gun you hold, alright?” you stood behind Enid and placed your hands on her arms. she jumped slightly, “sorry, just want to help get your hands into the right position. shot guns are way different than pistols.” you said with a chuckle.

“you’re fine.” she mumbled, keeping her eyes locked on the target in front of her. “raise the gun up. a little below shoulder level.”

“close one eye. keep your eyes on where you want to shoot. make sure your hands are steady…. plant your feet on the ground.” you felt your face grow hotter as you stood behind Enid. you didn’t know why just being in her presence made you so weak.

you backed away a few inches, “now shoot.” Enid pulled the trigger and the kickback made her stumble back, and she fell right into you. a chuckle left your lips, although your heart was racing. “you did good. feel okay?”

Enid pushed herself out of your grip and shook herself off. you cleared your throat. “a shotguns bullet are more powerful than a pistol, obviously. so even though you hit the chest, that could still kill a walker. but it you ever get the head with this gun, you can easily just blow it right off.”

“can i try that one?” Enid asked, pointing to the tactical shotgun on the wall. you raised your eyebrows. “this is way more powerful than the pump, Enid. don’t you want to-“

“i wanna try it.” she cut you off, so you nodded. “alright,” you sighed and took it off the wall. you filled it with shotgun shells and handed it to her. she struggled for a moment with the weight of it. “how did you get used to all of these?” she asked you.

you shrugged. “i grew up around them. i never really liked them, but after this shit happened, i figured i had to put the skills i had to good use somehow. and then i found this place. the more i helped others with them, the more i got better with them as well.”

“you’re really good with them.” Enid said. you smiled, “thanks, Enid.”

“can we try them on walkers soon?” Enid questioned, and you let out a choked laugh. “um, let’s practice for a few more days. and then we can try, alright? because if you get hurt, that’s on me.”

Enid nodded and lifted up the gun. you hesitated before asking your next question. “is it okay if i hold your shoulders? this gun is strong, i don’t want you falling down and getting hurt. i promise i do this with everyone.”

“yeah, that’s fine.” she mumbled, closing one eye and holding the gun up close to her. you gently held her shoulders, watching her every move. Enid sucked in a deep breath before she pulled the trigger. her body jolted back against yours, but you managed to keep her in place by holding her. “that felt good.” she laughed breathily, and you looked up at the target sheet. she had gone straight through the head.

“wow.” you whispered. “you’re truly already a master at this, Enid. most people struggle for days, and sometimes weeks. you’re doing great.” you looked at her with amazement, and maybe a little bit of pure love. something about Enid and her being good with guns just pulled you closer and closer to her. you wanted to know more.

you didn’t really believe in love at first sight, especially now in the apocalypse, but Enid had completely captivated you. but if you were being honest, it was probably a lost cause. Enid only wanted to learn how to protect herself, she didn’t come to you looking for a relationship. she was already distant enough towards you. you weren’t looking for one either, but hey, things change.

“i want to help more around here, i guess.” Enid mumbled. you smiled at her, “you’re gonna be such a great help with your skills.”

“you think?” Enid asked, handing the gun back to you. you turned around and placed it back on the wall, “i know.” you told her. “your arms might ache a bit from the weight of the guns. let’s stop here for now… and maybe tomorrow we can head out into the woods to kill a walker or two.” you said, and watched as a small smile made its way to her lips. “okay.”

“alright, head home now and rest. what do you say around noon tomorrow?” you questioned as the two of you walked outside of the building and you locked the door. “sounds good.” Enid said.

you began to say something else, but Enid started to walk away. with a small sigh, you walked across the street and walked into your house.

the next day in the morning, you scavenged your fridge to find anything to eat. you were running low, meaning you’d have to go talk to Olivia soon to get some more.

you settled with eggs and began frying them on an old pan. as you let them cook, you went back into your fridge, and in the back of it, sat a good amount of canned beers. you pulled one out and cracked it open, practically chugging it down. your hand crushed the can effortlessly and you threw it in the trash before grabbing another one.

Enid left her house and walked the two blocks it took to get to the building. she knocked 3 times, and after a minute of waiting, she knocked again, but you didn’t answer.

with furrowed eyebrows, Enid walked around the building to look through one of the windows, she didn’t see you, or any sign that you were in there at all today. then she remembered that you only lived across the street, so she walked over to your door and knocked again.

still, there was no answer. Enid tested her luck and twisted the doorknob, and to her surprise, it opened. she walked in quietly and slowly. “Y/N?” she called out. no response, but then she heard a clattering in the kitchen.

she ran into the room, eyes widening at the sight of you on the floor, multiple beer cans surrounding you, and your eggs burning on the stove. Enid rushed to turn off the stove and then got down on the ground with you. she gripped your arms in hopes you would look up and notice her. “Y/N? what the hell happened?!” she yelled.

your eyes finally found hers, and you gasped. “Enid! hey!” you slurred your words, and Enid sighed. “why are you drinking this early, Y/N? you of all people should know this is terrible for you.” Enid told you. you shrugged, “i found one in the fridge… and couldn’t stop.”

Enid started to clean up the rest of the beer cans, and when she was done, she started to try and pull you up. “okay,” she groaned, “you need to work with me here, let’s get you to bed. come on, stand up.”

it was a process, but Enid managed to get you to stand up and began to make her way to your bedroom. “you know,” you giggled. “i wish you could hold me like this all the time.” you mumbled, and Enid almost dropped you on the floor. “what?”

“i’ve never met anyone like you.” you slurred, stumbling over to your bed. Enid held your back as you tried your best to crawl in. you fell on your back on the bed with a sigh, “you’re perfect, Enid. and watching you… shoot those guns… you’re just so perfect.”

Enid could only stand there, not knowing if you really meant your drunken words. “i..” you started. “i think i love you. but i know you don’t love me back. i fell way too quickly, why would you ever feel that way too? but all i want… you’re all i want,” you mumbled, staring up at the ceiling.

the bed dipped as Enid slowly got in with you. you turned your head to see her next to you, looking down at you. “even when i’m not drunk, i still love you just as bad.” you whispered, and Enid was hoping that you really, truly meant that. “i’m sorry you had to see this.” you told her, tears pricking your eyes. and now Enid was hoping you weren’t an overly emotional drunk type. “because i will still love you just as much when i’m sober.”

“i believe you.” Enid whispered. “i love you too.” she whispered again, and she watched as your eyes found hers again. “and i’ll never leave your side, ever.”

Enid leaned down and kissed your head. your eyes started to droop as sleep was taking over, but Enid didn’t leave. she only quickly went into your bathroom to fill up a cup of water for when you woke up.

when she came back, she got back into your bed and laid on her side, just watching you sleep. her finger traced your face, down to your eyes, your nose, cheeks and lips. with one final kiss to your nose, she laid her head next to your shoulder and closed her eyes, letting sleep take over her as well.

#divider creds : cafekitsune #enid rhee #enid twd #twd enid #enid rhee x reader #enid rhee x fem!reader #the walking dead #twd #the walking dead x reader #twd x reader #the walking dead x fem!reader #twd x fem!reader

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strawberryjamsara · 11 months ago

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Persona 3 reload: a retrospective

A while back, I watched a let’s play of persona 3. And I hated it. I found it juvenile, nihilistic, extremely gross, and I felt like the members of sees were hardly friends, so their bonds hardly meant anything.

But, Persona 5 is a game I love, and also a long game that I’ve played multiple times, so I wasn’t sure if I was ready to play it again. And I had scrounged up enough for the new game, with me reasoning to myself that I’d have a better experience playing myself

And I was right. Everything I didn’t see in the game before came out at me in this playthrough so much I wondered if the original was ever really as bad as I thought.

So I just wanna recount a lot of the experience here. Beware of spoilers.

story and themes.

In my first watch, Persona 3’s story sort of felt like what I’d come up with at 14. Constant talks about how death is inevitable, nothing matters, and a line at the end saying our dead protagonist “found the answer” by dying which honestly made my jaw drop when seeing it. Not a good thing for someone with constant suicidal thoughts to hear, and the line struck me as tasteless, gross, and neglectful of the audience mental health.

That line is still there, and I still despise it, but this time around, I better understood the message the entire game wants to convey, that being: “Yes death is inevitable, yes nothing in life matters: which is why it’s important to live each day to the fullest and make your time matter.” This is shown by the fictional condition “apathy syndrome” a syndrome that literally makes you stand in place doing nothing forever, essentially a giving up on life that is what the villains hope to inflict on the world. The fall isn’t just an instant death. It’s plunging every human on earth into this state of apathy, and through this, they will all die while not even doing anything about this, and THATS what makes Nyx terrifying. And understanding this, it greatly raised my appreciation. The game also comes with a label warning for heavy themes and advising players to take a break if it gets too hard, which I appreciate.

There’s also a pretty good conflict with the heroes that being: the want for the world to constantly be in peril so they have something to do with their lives. This was sort of in Persona 5 with the thieves (Or really just Ryuji) soaking in popularity, but Persona 3 is a much better utilized version of this. All these people hated their lives before they became humanities saviors, and the idea of losing that purpose in life is scary to them. It’s only through their bonds with eachother they come to realize what they’re actually living for, and makes the villains Strega perfect foils, because their bonds with eachother aren’t enough. Jin obviously would give the world for Takaya, but they so easily threw Chidori away for bonding with the ones who took away their purpose. Takaya is pushed forward by pure nihilism and the ability to do whatever the hell he wants, and so he neglects the people around him. Jin dies in his final fight with you to protect Takaya’s dreams, and Takaya in his last moments wishes Jin could see the end but he didn’t. Takaya put his power trip over the only person he had left, so he was alone at the end.

I will say though, that while Strega are good villains, I don’t really like the games wishy washy handling of the Kirijo group. I’ll talk more about Mitsuru and her bond with her father when I get to characters (it’s nowhere near as bad as Haru though) but while the actions of the company are truly horrific, it sort of looks away from what it means for Mitsuru to inherit a company that caused this entire disaster then profited off of it, which like, yes I hate capitalism, but it’s also a very fascinating thread of idea that gets dropped. Also, yes, making the villains the group of orphans who were experimented on by the Kirijo group and have nothing from the heiress except a line about how she had ‘no idea’ and having the main characters work with the police, and the police being seen as a role model, and working with a coorporation is. A choice. And a huge downgrade from P5. Back to Mitsuru and the Kirijo’s though, this sort of thing could easily have been explored in her social link.

Speaking of which….

Social links and linked episodes

So when I watched that let’s play, the worst part for me was the social links. They were where a lot of personas signature brand really gross content came from, and the characters were utterly uninteresting to me. So were they bad as I remembered?

Yes and no.

One big thing I’m glad they’ve changed is that in the original game, whenever you maxed your bond with a female character you’d enter a relationship no matter what. So if you wanted to max your bond with multiple girls, then guess what! You’re cheating on your girlfriend. This lead to moments where I cringe in sympathy because Mitsuru is ranting to her fiancé about how much better and kinder the protagonist is and knowing this boy is leading on seven different girls.

Also some of the bonds were better than I gave them credit for! I loved coaching the group of kids with Yuko, being with Hayase in rough times, and helping Kamiki come to terms with his death.

Some were just as bad as I remembered though.

The hermit social link is extremely uncomfortable, having to listen to a woman who is obviously your teacher gleefully talk about her plans to get you alone to date you and the game treating this as funny and not horrific. Or Kenji talking about dating his teacher. Or a girl whose so nervous around boys so you can fix her and she becomes confident enough to protest a sign at school condemning relationships between students and teachers- what is with this game and student teacher relationships?

There’s also the problem of the best options in some of these links involve being an enabler. Yes little girl, run away from home, and only bring your insurance card, this is a great idea. If you don’t wanna take the optimal route and say that, you can tell her she deserved her parents hitting her. Yeah, in the original let’s play, I had NEVER hated a main character more than this guy and he was literally a silent protagonist.

I still really hate these moments. I could get attached to the main character (probably because I was playing as him, and there was more time in between… this. And also he wasn’t a cheater) but I still felt so ick picking what I knew was the best option.

So what about the parties links?

I think they’re a mixed bag. Yukari and Aigis have incredibly good social links about themselves and their lives, but Mitsuru’s is clearly just written with romance first, introducing a fiancé who is never mentioned anywhere else in the game for the protagonist to be better than, and Fuuka took a potentially interesting character and made her character arc about what a good cook she is. Thanks Atlus, feminist as always.

But what about the boys? Hahaha… sickos… YEEEES.

The boys in the original game did not have social links. This contributed to my original feeling like SEES weren’t friends, and my dislike towards the protagonist that you couldn’t hang out with any of your roommates who weren’t romance options to cheat on, but reload fixes this. Well, sorta.

Instead of social links, you have ‘linked episodes’ with the boys where you spend a day together and get stat upgrades, and I LOVED this. Often during these episodes the rest of sees would come together and hang, and even if they didn’t, the character insight offered felt worthwhile and like they had bonded. This and study sessions with the group, seeing Yukari Junpei and the protagonist spending time as a group chatting after school, and nightly activities where you could chill with your dormates after dark contributed so much to making these bonds feel more real, and making me believe they’re friends. Even if it’s just the protagonist hanging out with Akihiko on his own, you still get bits of him talking about Shinji and Mitsuru that make it feel alive. I LOVE how sometimes if you go to Tartarus one person won’t be able to make it because they’re out, or they’re studying, or they’re just not feeling it. It makes you feel like you need to take everyone’s schedules to heart. I’m aware that last feature is in the original, but it feels a lot more meaningful to play it for myself.

I’m getting off topic. Time to talk about

The characters

A lot of the characters in P3 I did not like on my first go. With the exception of Yukari and Junpei. And I’m glad to say I’ve come around to all of them this time around. So to go one by one:

Junpei Iori

Junpei at first seems like your typical first persona party member. He’s not very bright, he’s sexist in the way a lot of teenage boys are, and he’s seemingly just there for comic relief.

Then the game flips the script. You realize Junpei is insecure of you. You realize that his girlbestie who teases him all the time, may actually be getting under his skin. You realize that he’s so deeply and utterly sad, and finding out that the entire world would crumble without him is the best thing that happened in his life.

And then he meets the first love of his life.

Chidori and Junpeis romance is so well written, and makes me wish the games would make more romances for your party members instead of the obnoxious romance system that exists where the developers think if the player can’t date any woman that moves they’ll keel over dead.

Junpei finds with Chidori the first girl he doesn’t just think of as someone to hit on for the man points. He finds a genuine crush, someone he cares about the safety and well being of, and a reason to keep going and saving the world because Chidori is in it. And Chidori finds much of the same in him. Watching Junpei turn from a womanizing creep into the sweet guy who waits at Chidoris hospital bed every day was something that even in my first watch had me gnashing my teeth about how Yosuke and Ryuji didn’t touch this level. So yeah. Junpei is great and so is his character arc.

Yukari Takeba

Yukari was the other character I was attached to first run. Mostly because the lets player kept talking about how much he hated her and nothing makes me love a female character more than male audiences treating her like shit, but I was also just attached to her relationship with Junpei. They were the only characters that to me felt like genuine friends, and you could see by the way they’d jab at eachother back and forth.

And I was glad for her headstrong nature. She was the one questioning what was really going on, and she could be mean, and angry, and unpleasant. She could kinda suck, and I appreciated her for that. The scene in my first time where she tries to cheer up Junpei by teasing him and it backfires miserably lived in my head rent free for a while.

And while my opinions of Junpei being a good character pretty much stayed the same this time, my love for Yukari skyrocketed. I realized how endlessly loving she is, and yet how emotionally stunted her beginnings made her, with her dads death, her moms distance, and her friends leaving her behind. I loved when I realized ‘Oh. It’s not just that one time. Junpeis been bothered by her teasing since the beginning, but it’s her expression of love because she’s afraid of vulnerability.’ I loved how she connected with the protagonist, she found someone in a similar situation, but she could still be an asshole to him sometimes because she’s messy and complicated (and side note: I think I ship shuyuka now.)

So yeah. Yukari is a ten out of ten character.

Akihiko Sanada

I thought this guy had no personality the first time around. What was I thinking? Oh boy, I love this dork.

Akihiko going on about bolstering his muscles but can’t bolster his social skills enough for a normal conversation (Mr Autism my good friend) is already endearing to me, but what really comes in clutch is his relationships to Mitsuru and Shinji.

Aki is the only person in the group who doesn’t really see Mitsuru as an authority figure, disobeying her orders from the very start to not push himself, and pushing her buttons a little, a far cry from how she’s essentially the leader (yes I know the protagonist is the textual leader but let’s be real. Mitsuru is the leader.) and they’re a bond I feel like I neglected my first time around.

But let’s talk Shinji.

Akihiko and Shinji are a tragedy and despite knowing how it ended every step of the way this time, I couldn’t help getting attached. Aki losing the only friend he had as an orphan was not all at once but a slow burn. It’s easy to see coming, and yet Akihiko is Sisyphus pushing that boulder up the hill, hoping this time, things can go back to normal with every time he tries to talk him into joining, not realizing the boulder is already falling to the man’s death and Shinji knows it.

I think his final awakening and development happened to fast after that though. Like at least give the man more than a day of his best friend being dead before you make him have his big revelation.

Okay that’s pretty much all my thoughts but one last thing: I didn’t realize how hilariously gay coded he is my first time. He has crowds of adoring girls around him but doesn’t talk to any of them and instead goes to hang with the guys. He’s best friends with Mitsuru and romance isn’t hinted at once. Why are you as a man so obsessed with Shinji, hm?

Fuuka Yamagishi

I think Fuuka has an incredibly strong entrance into the game.

Her status as a navigator is like any person playing their first persona game and gets the navigator, pretty weak at first. Until you realize how powerful she really is. And I think that’s a good metaphor for her character. Turning her bully into her best friend shows her kindness, but also her strength at how she got Natsuki to respect her, not through brute strength but just by being good to her and saving her, and began to spend time with her because of this respect.

Unfortunately, Fuuka is pretty stagnant through most of the story.

I’m glad for some things like her bond with Yukari, and how she finds out the truth behind the Kirijo’s, but it seems like most of this is frontloaded while she takes a backseat to other plotlines, and most of her lines just seem to be her using her persona.

She does get one last incredible scene though in her evolution. When Natsuki leaves and gives Fuuka encouragement, I honestly did feel tears in my eyes for this friendship and the growth Fuuka had knowing she had people who loved her, in both Natsuki and SEES. I speak as someone who usually HATES the bully and victim become friends trope when I say they were a highlight.

So Fuuka isn’t my favorite but she’s a worthy character. I would fix some stuff, but I care her.

Mitsuru Kirijo

This is another character I found bland and uninteresting my first time. I can’t believe how dumb I was.

Okay, so there’s problems with Mitsurus character. I’ve mentioned most of them. Her social link, her becoming the heiress to the evil coorporation, etc etc. but oh goodness is she interesting.

This girl subjected herself to some implied horrific shit for the sake of correcting her families injustices. Because she didn’t want her father to live with the guilt. So she became isolated, depressed, and a bit of a ‘no fun allowed’ type. It could be argued that in the beginning she wants to rid the world of the dark hour the most.

But she’s also just a kid who shouldn’t have to subject herself to that. Her happiest moments aren’t when she’s talking to the father she wants to appease but with her found family in SEES.

As for Mitsurus dad- okay it’s not a Haru’s dad situation. I CAN see some of why Mitsuru cares about him. He’s the ‘stoic but kind’ archetype. The ‘beforetimes’ referred to are before the near end of the world was caused by this man’s father and left him feeling awful, and Mitsuru herself wanted to change that. But I still think the game glorifies him a little bit. Like hey, Strega said they were gathered by Kirijo group to learn persona summoning, and I’m pretty sure Mitsurus grandpa died in that explosion, so who was in charge of those child experiments that killed orphans? You wanna answer that game?

But okay, at the very least, I can see why Mitsuru would care for her father. He’s not as cartoonishly awful as Okumura is, he is an actual human being. And the game keeps its focus on this arc on Mitsuru where it belongs. And her big awakening is, while it’s still not great about acknowledging her dads shit, where it should be. On her realizing she has her friends.

So yes, Mitsuru isn’t as tightly written as Junpei and Yukari, but she’s still a good character.

Aigis

While most characters my first time around felt boring, Aigis felt fetishistic.

Like yes, this robot girls first action is to bury her face in the players bare chest. She watches you while you sleep. This is a running theme. Not only that, but I did not buy her transition into caring about SEES and becoming more human for reasons stated before. SEES don’t feel like friends, yadda yadda yadda.

This time around though, I saw a lot differently. Having the main character slowly bond with her as a friend outside her directive made her feel so much more like a character and not a writers fantasy. I liked little things like how she got excited over ladybugs and that made me appreciate other things like how she goes ‘maaan’ to repeat Junpei or how she gets into an argument with Koromaru. And this made her character development and realization of life’s beauty so much more impactful.

A robot who comes to understand life is a very typical trope, one that I love dearly. My first time didn’t really capture any of the magic for me, but this time around I really love Aigis.

Koromaru

Well, Koromaru is a simple character. He’s literally a dog. He does dog things. He’s implied to be smarter than the average dog. He has a backstory. But sometimes that’s all you need. He is a puppy. A creature. He’s your best friend. He’s loyal and he guarded the place of his last owner. I love you puppy.

Ken Amada

Okay, so first time, I thought Ken had the pieces of an arc that were decent but everything happened so fast. He was introduced, then the next time he did something significant it was saying his backstory and then attempted murder.

I think reloads linked episodes fixed this for me because god I wanna hug this kid. The way they imply his suicidal idealation, and how everyone in SEES sees him as a little brother, give him a family, but he just keeps ruminating on the single worst day of his life so bad he makes another. This kid has such good character development.

Shinjiro Aragaki

God I love Shinji. I love the ‘tough guy secretly loves dogs’ tropes. I love how he knows he’s doomed but still uses his last moments to try and make sure Ken doesn’t end up like him. I love how he cares about Akihiko but doesn’t want to move past his trauma. I love how he’s stuck in place as he is, refusing to let things go but is still fundamentally kind. I love Shinji.

Shuji Ikutsuki

Despite the fact I knew his betrayal was coming this time, I didn’t wanna believe Ikutsuki was a bad guy.

I loved his bad puns, his notebook full of them, how he suggested making the garden, how he just came to hang out in the living room sometimes to be supportive. I love you can catch him on camera making his bad jokes and laughing like a hyena to know that even if he was a shitty dude in the end, he genuinely loved those jokes. After everything he put you through, he was genuine when he told you his bad jokes. Which to me, is far more interesting than anything anyone has ever gleaned from Adachi.

Ryoji Mochizuki

Ryoji is honestly a very good character and I’m shocked. I’ve seen people compare him to Akechi for ‘friends who turn into antagonists’ but as much as I love Akechi, I don’t think Ryoji is anything like him.

But boy do I love him.

While the idea of a nice grim reaper has been done a million times, a kind hand guiding you towards the afterlife, (mind you I love that trope) Ryoji is the first time I’ve seen a bringer of death who hates being one. He loves life, and his friends, and the idea of it ending is scary, but inevitable and he wants to offer a choice, and it honestly feels so gut wrenching when you spend all this time waiting for him to betray you, when you realize he’s just a sweet kid who didn’t ask for this. And honestly, I think I liked him my first time around for that reason. Ryomina is a different story, but I came around to that too this time, and I don’t want this to be bogged down with thoughts on shipping.

Chidori

I pretty much got all my thoughts about Jin and Takaya down in the story section so I’ll skip right to Chidori. And I love her.

Chidori in the beginning feels like just another member of Strega. But when she gets taken to the hospital by SEES partway through, you can see that Strega were not very good to her. They don’t really care most of the game to try and free her, and we find out that she’s been self harming for a while- something Strega doesn’t just ignore, but considering Takayas philosophy, probably actively encouraged. And I like that at first, SEES aren’t equipped to handle her either. They close in and interrogate a very obviously traumatized and mentally ill girl before Junpei busts in to yell at them to give her space.

And I like how we see her passion for art. That despite her claims she cares for nothing, obviously she can’t do that. She loves art. And it’s because of Junpei she really wakes up to that.

I love Chidori

Conclusion

Honestly, I’m not sure if I can put my finger on what it was about Persona 3 that clicked for me this time. Maybe it was the linked episodes, maybe it was playing it for myself, maybe I’m just better at literary comprehension and analysis than before.

But P3 this time really stuck to me, and despite its flaws, I really do get the hype now.

#not putting this in the tags because it is very personal #p3 #gothitxt #that’s it

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savagecowboy · 1 year ago

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𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐄𝐃𝐆𝐄

A raucous holler, “ YEEEEHOOO ! ” Cut through the sound of gunfire, somehow louder than the rain of shells clattering to the marble floor.

“Is he always like this?” Diamondback panted, pressing herself tighter into the alcove of safety formed by the corner of the counter; still unused to the idea of immunity to bullet wounds.

“Yup”, Homer answered her, sighting in another of their assailants.

“I think it’s charming” Jesse said sinking down next to the woman as she struggled to reload her gun.

The crazed blast devolved into a series of weak clicks as the tommy gun spent its supply. Disappointed, Severen tossed it aside and wiggles his fingers over the handle of the holstered revolver at his side. A bullet whizzed by his head as he looked down at Jesse, who is finally getting Diamondback’s gun in some kind of working order.

“Fifty bucks says I can knock all their hats off” he gives a manic smile, licking his teeth in anticipation of the self proclaimed challenge.

“No trick shots!” Jesse shouts at him, peeking over the counter and unloading several rounds out the window of the bank they are trapped inside.

“I’ll take that bet” Homer says, slamming another magazine into his semi-automatic.

“Attaboy!” Severen whoops, drawing his gun with flair, spinning the cylinder out of habit and bracing his palm over the hammer.

Six officers are barricaded on the far side of the building, some of the last left alive. Six shots are fired, each one echoing deafeningly as they angle into and out of each man’s skull.

“Woo!” The vampire pumps his fist into the air with a cheer, “You were always a poor gambler little man”.

The tease riles Homer and he stands with rage in his eyes.

“And you were always a damn cheat! His hat’s only cockeyed!”

Severen rolls his eyes, “No it ain’t, not my fault the wall’s right there”.

“Stop shakin’ peckers and clear out those last two”, Jesse snaps in a tone of voice they know not to question, “forget this piece’a shit darlin’ we’ll get you sumethin’ better on the road”.

He tosses her gun and gives her a quick kiss, seeing that despite everything she’s already been through, this new lifestyle can still rattle her. She grins at him brushing her knuckles against the stubble of his cheek.

“I’m ok Jess, guess it’s just my first rodeo”. She laughs and he gives her a genuine smile in response, their love still newlywed sweet.

“Aw gee, need me to hold your pony?”

Severen cuts in acidly, two shots ringing out, as two last bodies fall. Diamondback steels herself against the man’s jibe, she’s suffered enough jabs from others to take this one on the chin. She won’t let him ruffle her feathers. Jesse lowers his eyes and stands, reaching his hands down to her to help her up now that the building is silent.

“C’mon, you an’ Homer grab the bags and we’ll take one’a their rides outta town. Make it to the state line before sun up”.

She nods curtly and does as bid, helping the boy— or what she can’t stop thinking of as a boy— stuff wrapped bills into the satchels, tying tight knots at the top. Severen is dumping empty casings from his pistols as Jesse approaches, boots crunching over broken glass. He purposefully avoids his elder’s gaze, knowing he two-stepped over a line that he’d been warned about.

A firm hand clasps his shoulder and squeezes.

“We’ve been on this train nigh on 40-50 years now, you reckon?” His words are slow, almost ponderous, as if frozen by the icy tone of his voice.

“Ya”, Severen responds shortly, feeling the hot iron raised and waiting for the sear.

“You always been one for raisin’ sand, and it don’t bother me none, because we have an accord”, Jesse paused, Homer and Diamondback passing by them.

“Now, when I told you I’d taken a fancy to our Diamondback, I was real clear on the terms and conditions of joining up with our little posse, just as I was with you, right?”

Severen sighed through his teeth, squirmy in the face of tension; Jesse’s grip tightened, the press of his jagged nails biting into the worn leather.

“She’s as much a full fledged member as any, and while I won’t cry foul at your particular brand of unsavory humor, you need to give more than a lick an’ a promise to makin’ her feel welcome”.

The younger of the two rolled his eyes and tried to shrug away his shoulder, Jesse bore down, and the two locked eyes.

“I’m dead serious boy. I know you ain’t keen on change, gets your dander up, which is why I give you my time and I explain myself. That’s respect, you paid it forward in turn, which is why we are the way we are”.

The stressed emphasis on his last words marks them. All at once Jesse let go, neither broke the stare.

“I never intended on finding my lady love, but she is my own an’ you best be treatin’ her how you would me”.

This Severen seemed to understand, the petulance faded and the man Jesse met on the prairie all those years ago stood before him again.

“Yessir”.

And with that affirmation the air cleared between them.

The two rustled up whatever else they could salvage for profit or future battle from the wreckage and dashed out to the motorcar, its engine idling. Jesse went to the driver’s seat while Severen clambered in the back with Homer and the duffels full of their ill gotten gains.

“I got it to start, but I’m not too good a driver” Diamondback said shuffling over so Jesse could slide in behind the wheel.

“Not to worry darlin’, that’s my job”. He gave her a winning smile and she patted his knee.

Severen piped up from the back, rubbing a grubby cloth over the barrel of his revolver, “Diamondback, don’t you worry any about learning the trade, no one better at it than me’n Jesse, an’ I can teach a blind man to shoot a fly at twenty paces”. She looks back at him still with a grin on her face.

“It’ll take more than a poor turn of phrase to get under my skin sweetie, but I may take you up on your offer regardless”.

Something passes between them, a pact established.

“Maybe with something less likely to act up on me though”.

Severen leans over and slaps the seat behind Jesse.

“You still got your knife?”

“Sure, why?”

“Thinkin’ it might well suit our purposes”.

Diamondback catches his drift before Jesse does, “I did do a little carnival act where I threw knives once. People said I wasn’t half bad”.

Severen shows his teeth in a smile.

“Wouldn’t that be sumethin’”.

Jesse laughs, “It sure would”.

“Severen couldn’t teach his grandma to suck eggs” Homer pipes in, the accused sitting back in his chair to comically glower at the smaller vampire.

“Don’t forget that fifty you owe me, an’ I want it from your share, don’t go shortin’ a pile thinkin’ I won’t notice”.

“And here I wasn’t sure you could count”.

Severen grabs for him and the two tussle in the back seat making the car sway on the road.

“Simmer down back there!” Jesse shouts at them, “worse than a couple’a horny broncos” he grumbles.

But the worst is over, the town lies behind them, the safe house they marked out only a few miles more, and then they’d be able to lie low for a while, take things a little slower— savor the night again. Diamondback catches his eye and gives him an affectionate wink.

“We’re in for some fun times ain’t we?”

“You can take that one to the bank”.

Hearty laughter fills the car and filters out onto the dark road they speed along.

#near dark #near dark fanfic #severen van sickle #✘ ONE SHOT.

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skylarmoon71 · 2 years ago

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Timeless Wells (Flash) Soldier- Chapter 1

Surviving a war wasn’t hard.

It’s the path that came after.

They always said that the battle would be hard. For you it really wasn’t. Most of your life was a fight. Jumping from home to home was no way to live. So when you were offered a chance to serve, you took it. Not because of patriotism. Nor was it for some need to protect. It was only for a roof over your head, warm clothes and something to eat. You were strong, you’d always been. So fighting for a cause was worthwhile.

Months, years of training and drills, you were exposed to the real thing.

Life.

It was cruel.

Brutal.

Standing out there with a rifle in your hand and the people you’d come to call your friends drop one by one felt unreal.

For the first time in your life, you felt fear. Not for your own life. But the ones of the people who actually had something to live for. Someone to go back too.

“Fall back!!”

You ducked behind the boulders after the yell from your lieutenant.

“Sir we’re surrounded!!” Your evaluation was an understatement. If you made it out of this situation alive, it would have been a miracle. His head laid back on the rock, clutching his tags. You just watched. Waiting for some kind of signal from him. It was down to the both of you. There were more than a dozen people out there. You swallow.

“I’ve got a little sister back home. For the longest time it’s just been the two of us. She’s always taken care of me. Whether I live or die out here, her tuition is getting paid. I was a wash out. I’d never done anything good with my life. She is the only thing that matters to me.”

It feels like yesterday that he’d told that story. All of you had been sitting at a checkpoint as you went over lost loves and past screw ups. You’d never been someone of sentiment. That’s why you’d spent the night just listening to the very entertaining stories of your comrades. Your family.

He was your family.

Maybe your life didn’t have to be for nothing. For once, this felt like a decision you made out of understanding what was next. Not just a choice for your convenience.

“It’s been an honor sir.”

His eyes shift to your side, and when you jump from behind your spot, he panics, rushing to load his gun.

“S-SOLDIER STAND DOWN!!”

He cursed, scrambling to reload. His attempt to follow was stopped, because the onslaught of bullets continued. He jumped behind a thicker rock. You just lifted your weapon, taking out as many enemies as you could. The crashed truck from earlier presented a good cover. Huffing, you did a mental note of the positions of each person. You’d only managed to strike down two, and that alone felt like sheer luck.

Gritting your teeth, you continued. Your first shot took down another, and you gasped when a bullet struck you right in the shoulder. Eyes clenched in pain you pushed through. You're fired with all your might. The second your bullets ran out, you accepted your faith. There were maybe six men left. Help was ten minutes out. If your Lieutenant was smart about his approach, he could survive this. So you dropped your empty gun, waiting for the inevitable.

The sound of lightning ahead is what seems to stop all movement. At first you assumed it was some kind of enemy battleship that was approaching. Because the earth seemed to shake. But your enemies didn’t look very reassured. Because they had seized all attacking to look at the gaping hole that opened in the sky. You staggered back, eyes wide in disbelief.

That doesn’t seem like the only unrealistic situation. Just beneath it, your eyes catch a flash of green. The light seems to disappear just as fast as it came.

“YALE!!”

Your mind just barely processed your name being called. Your superior was sprinting in your direction as he fired his gun. It’s obvious that he was just as terrified at what seemed like an impossible anomaly in the sky. He took down each target, easily. They were far too distracted by the freaking worm hole that appeared in the sky. The second he was by your side he grabbed your hand.

“We need to get the hell out of here!!” It was an order, but your body wouldn’t move. It refused to.

“SOLDIER!! WE HAVE TO GO!!”

You blinked, staring at him. Motion returns to your body, and the second you take a step, your Lieutenant is thrown at least ten feet away by what looks like a spark of lightning.

“LIEUTENANT!!”

Your scream echoes and so does the clap of thunder. You race to his side. When you drop to your knees, you check his pulse urgently. He’s unconscious, but alive. You sigh, dropping your head on his chest in relief.

“I’m back.”

The tremoring tone of something behind you makes the hair stand up on the back of your neck. You turn around shakily, greeted with demonic red eyes. This stranger is wearing a bright yellow suit, with a bolt as what you can only assume is his emblem. If you can call it that. The red slowly retracts from his eyes, and you make out a very human gaze. Blond hair, dangerous eyes. This is not a friend. It can’t be.

“W-What the hell are you…”

He tilts his head, a satisfying crack ringing. His steps are slow, taunting almost. A sinister smile planted on his lips.

“Never mind who I am. It seems you both are in a tough situation.” His eyes mark the many dead bodies. Some of which are people from your squad.

“You’ve lost quite a bit of people, how tragic. “

His tone is mocking, and you grit your teeth. Your evaluation of an enemy is correct. Your eyes drift to a gun a few feet away. One you hope has bullets for you to at least defend yourself.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Your eyes dart back to his form.

“What do you want?” You try to level your voice. Because he seems to get off on your fear. He’s just a few feet away.

“Ultimately, I’m going to kill the Flash. But I suppose I could have some fun here with the both of you. What year is it, where are we?”

Your mouth stays shut. You aren’t sure who or what this Flash is, but it can’t be good if this thing is after it.

“Not in the talking mood.”

You barely have a chance to breathe, because your body is lifted right off the ground. You struggle to pull in air as he holds you upright. You grab at your neck, but his grip offers no resistance.

“Speak.”

Your gaze hardens. Even though you’re terrified, you would quicker die then let this enemy gain whatever it is he’s after.

“Maybe if I kill your little boyfriend over there, you’ll be more willing.” He shoves you to the ground, and you hit the dirt with a grunt, coughing, gasping.

He moves over, the sound of dirt beneath his feet are like daggers to your chest. You crawl, trying to stop him.

“N-No...”

The closer he gets to your lieutenant, the faster your heart beats.

“If I manage to make it back after this tour, I promised her I won’t come back. It’ll be over. We’ll move to a nice quiet town in Florida and just enjoy life. “

You sob at the words of your commander that rush back.

The man kneels, lifting his hand that now appears to be vibrating.

“I’m going to kill him, then I’ll make you suffer until there is nothing left. You’ll wish those men had killed you.”

It all feels like it’s happening so slowly. His hand is aimed right for your Lieutenant’s heart.

“STOP!!!!”

A pulse of green flashes throughout the entire terrain, and he grunts as his body is forced into the air. You stare as his body hits a boulder. He’s wedged between the rock, and all you can do is gape. You’re still somewhat groveling in the dirt, You can hardly comprehend what just happened. But it’s clear that whatever it was, he’s not happy about it. He pulls his limbs out of the rock aggressively. When he’s free, the deadly red light in his eyes return.

“I’m going to kill you.”

He rushed forward, but didn't even make it within ten feet of you or the Lieutenant. His body is stopped by what you can only assume is an emerald shield. The bubble sound it makes is so loud. Both your bodies are completely sheltered. The being in yellow slams his hands angrily against it. When it's clear that he can’t get through, his angry grunts turn into laughter.

“I will be seeing you again.”

The tone of that brings an unpleasant chill. In a rush of red lightning, he is gone.

There is nothing you can say to try and make sense of all that has just happened.

All you can do is be thankful that you are still breathing.

That is all your brain can truly process.

It is the only thing that appears real.

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