#this is meryl and kofi | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luckymeryl · 1 year

Text

Chapter 9 is completed! I think this might be 11 or 12 chapters tops. It's definitely nearing an end. Feel free to read the full story on AO3

Support me on Kofi or Paypal.

“This is a good thing, right, Meryl?” Milly glanced over at her partner from the driver’s seat. “I mean, he can’t hurt anyone from a prison cell. It’s concrete and metal.”

Meryl nodded in response. “And he’s in the perfect place for us to get our interview.”

Vash peeped in from the back window. “No ropes required.” He added with a wide grin that made Meryl immediately slam the back window shut. “Aw…” his pout was muffled behind the glass.

“So we just make it to O’nare and do our interview, then we can move on. Maybe to someone less…fiery.” Meryl’s back burned at the thought. She didn’t even want to face him, but at least this way, they could all carry on.

O’nare was a small town, with houses and stores built of mainly adobe. The only wood that someone might find would be some tables and chairs in the local saloon or in someone’s kitchen. Perhaps the houses with shutters also had that bit of wood on the outside. Overall, however, it was a surprise to have found Lynch in a town as small and flame retardant as that one. Still, the lower the risk the better, all things considered, and the three of them would count themselves grateful.

The sheriff seemed surprised that press badges were shown to him, but he smiled as he recognized the two girls. “You’re Meryl and Milly. The Outlaw Insider girls, right?”

At his recognition, Vash found himself hiding behind Milly carefully. If he’s seen one episode of their show, who’s to say he hadn’t seen the first one. The interview with the one and only Humanoid Typhoon.

Milly responded first, a bright “Yep!” accompanying a thumbs up. “We’re here to interview Amorus Lynch please.”

“Oh, so that’s the story now. Well, I hate to get in the way of your show, girls. Make sure you don’t get too close to him. He’s a rough one.”

Meryl nodded, stepping past him into the jail, Vash following closely behind Milly, careful to avoid the sheriff’s attention. The brunette sat on the bench of the cell, propped with his elbows on his knees, and shackles around his wrists and ankles. “Is it time for my hangin’ already?”

Meryl took out her notebook, ignoring the chill down her spine and the burning sensation on her back. “We’re not your judge.” She said firmly. “We’re here for an interview.”

There was a hardy laugh from the man at that. “An interview. Well, ain’t I a popular one?” He stood from his seat, walking over to them with a clang of his chains accompanying his steps. “You’ve got some nerve, walking in to talk to one of the most wanted men on the planet just for the sake a few questions.” He smiled at Meryl, watching her closely.

“A few questions.” She repeated. “Then we’re leaving.” Her voice was firm. Her blood ran cold as his red eyes focused in on her, taking her in from head to toe.

Vash was suddenly firm at her side, Milly on the other. The two had flanked her carefully between them. Milly reached down and held her friend’s hand gently. “Whenever you’re ready, Meryl.”

Meryl looked up at her partner, giving her a firm nod. “Let’s get rolling.”

Milly aimed the camera, Vash took his place behind Milly, and Meryl started the questioning. “So Amorus Lynch. How many cities have you burned to the ground? Do you know?”

There was a bit of a laugh at that. “You can’t check the news yourself, little lady?” He shrugged. “I lost count after eight. Hard to remember which ones I burned and which I simply passed through on my way.”

Meryl seemed more focused on her writing than she was on him. She’d written down his answer, flipping through the pages for her next question. They were all quite tame questions. Do you work alone? How long have you been doing this? And finally…. “Why do you do it?”

The grin he gave her caused her blood to turn to ice. “I’m. Hot.” He said slowly. There was a dark assurance in his answer. “I burn. Because I’m hot.”

“You’re… because you’re hot?” There was a nervous chuckle, anything to lighten the mood. “Like… you think your looks—”

“No. No I don’t give a damn about looks.” His eyes narrowed. “I mean I’m hot.” He said again. “My blood is boiling. My skin burns. My mouth tastes of smoke.” He took hold of the bars, letting the chains hit the metal with a loud clang. “There’s a fire inside me. And I want everyone to feel it too.” His eyes bore into her. “And there’s a fire inside you, too. Isn’t there?”

Meryl didn’t respond. She couldn’t. She couldn’t think of an answer to him. No. Right? That was the answer. “How did it start? The…the burning?”

“Hell if I know.” He shrugged. “I was born this way. My mother could have no more children because of me. Not that she’d want to after meeting her one and only son. I don’t have some kind of sob story of being abandoned or abused, so don’t pity me.

“I killed my mother when I was thirteen. I killed her because she dared to bring me into this world, just to burn. So I made her feel my pain. My father ran from me. So I took him too. I melted their flesh beneath my hands and left our home filled with smoke and decay.

“I don’t know if it’s living so close to a dying plant, or just some out of this world genetic mutation, but I found myself able to burn someone with a single touch. Then I could set a fire if I tried hard enough. The flame got hotter inside me. I think it might have burned the soul from my bones. There’s no anger in what I do. There is only equality. I burn, and so does the world. I hurt, and so does everyone else. This is fair.”

As he said this, a scent of smoke filled the air. “You’re already burning, aren’t you?”

“I’m fine.” Meryl said firmly, shaking herself out of her thoughts. “How did you get caught?”

“Would you believe I let myself?”

She could feel the heat radiating from him, causing her to wish she hadn’t stood so close. Finding herself thankful of the chains around his wrists. “Why would you let yourself get caught?”

“Because maybe when they hang me, the burning will stop.” He said simply. There was an odd peace to this. “I want the burning to stop.”

Meryl wrote this last note down. The idea that he had abilities and allowed him to burn an object, or a person for that matter, with a single touch, would have been thrown out the window five years ago. But she’d met people who were insects. Living independent plants. People who could alter soundwaves. She’d seen too many mutations on No Man’s Land to ignore him. “I don’t believe that death is the answer.” She told him. “I don’t believe that dying will erase what you’ve felt.”

“Then maybe I’ll rise from the ashes. Like a phoenix, reborn to once again set fire to the world. If I do not stop burning, I will take humanity down in flames with me.”

“And you’re just… going to let them kill you? What has stopped you before?”

There was a bit of a shrug at that. “The guns and knives melt. The alcohol evaporates. My body doesn’t want to die.”

“Do you think that’s because you aren’t supposed to? There has to be a way you can control it.”

“Control is not the issue here.” His voice became low and a gruff laugh left his lips. “I can keep from hurting a single soul on this planet if I really wanted to. But it won’t stop the pain I feel. Nothing will stop it.” He glared at her then. “Like I said. Don’t fucking pity me, girl.”

“I’m not…” She was. “I don’t mean to. I just don’t think dying is what you have to do.”

“When you find an alternative, just let me know. I’ve been trying for thirty-three years.” He let go of the bars and held the chains tightly in his hands. “So what did I do to you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean where did I burn you? You think I don’t notice my own handwriting?” There was another low laugh at that.

Meryl could practically feel her friends glare past her at the man behind bars. “My back.” She told him. “But it’s better now. I can live with it. And so can you.”

The chain dropped between him, melted through the center, and in that moment, he grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her close. She could feel her hand burning against his, and she cried out. “What part of I want to die can’t you fucking understand?”

The camera fell to the ground behind her. Milly and Vash were at her side now. Vash’s gun aimed at Lynch’s head. Milly began prying his fingers from Meryl’s wrist. Her face twisted in pain, but she continued pulling until his hand let her loose, sending Meryl tumbling backwards onto the hard floor. Lynch backed up from the three of them, hands up in surrender. “Does this mean the interview is over?”

Vash did not lower his gun. Hie eyes were narrow, and fist clenched, just a twitch from pulling the trigger. “Vash.” Meryl held her hand carefully, examining the blisters already growing.

Vash’s voice was low. “We should leave.” His jaw was set, eyes narrow. This was a look she’d seen before, long before. When his temper actually got to him. He holstered his gun, keeping his fist clenched at his side. “Come on.” He tore his eyes away from the man, leading Meryl away with a hand on her back. Milly picked up the camera and followed behind. Vash practically growled at the Sheriff as he passed. “His chains came off. You might want to contain him a little better.”

Meryl let herself be lead to the clinic. She watched as the doctor applied salve and bandages to her hand, staying quiet. Milly tried to give her comforting words like, the camera is fine, just needs a new lens. The footage is still good before then. We’re done with him.

That was the best part. They were done with him.

Vash, however, stayed quiet, silently stewing in his own anger. He never left. He stood by the door as the doctor worked with a look that dared the man to call him out as the Humanoid Typhoon. There was a time when this visage of him might have scared her. But, as she’d known all along, he was still Vash. He wasn’t going anywhere. He wasn’t going to hurt anyone.

The doctor let her go with a jar of ointment and care instructions that she already knew. He treated the light burns on Milly’s fingers, but luckily they weren’t severe enough for bandaging. The walk to the inn was quiet. Milly seemed afraid to speak. Vash was still angry. And Meryl? Well she was awkwardly in the middle of them both, feeling guilty for even getting them involved.

Milly opened the door to their room and looked back at Meryl. “I’m going to shower first, okay?” She didn’t wait for a response before ducking into the room, leaving the two in the hall.

“I’m sorry.”

Vash’s eyes widened. “Sorry? Meryl what are you sorry for?” The anger in his eyes was replaced by confusion as he looked down at her.

“I shouldn’t have stood so close. I keep…” She huffed. “I keep causing such a ruckus. I keep getting hurt.”

Vash took her hand as tenderly as he could. “This is my fault. I’m here to protect you, and I didn’t do that.”

“It’s not your job to keep me out of trouble.” She gave him a bit of a teasing smile. “That’s my job, remember? To keep you from causing havoc?”

He didn’t express the same amusement. His eyes were so focused on her hand that he hadn’t even noticed her smile. “You deserve to be protected.” He said quietly.

“I…I mean.” Once again, words escaped her. Her heart felt weak. Did she deserve that? She was so weak. She should protect herself. She should take care of herself. She should be stronger. “I mean. I know. I just… I want to protect myself.” She said before giving him a halfhearted laugh. “Look unless you’re going to kiss it better, can I have my hand back?”

Instead, however, his gentle hand lifted hers to his lips, pressing them to her knuckles. “I figure a fist bump might be a little difficult right now.”

She wished she could blame the burn, or the heat, or even simply exhaustion for the flush in her cheeks. She gripped his hand a little too firmly, causing her to wince and bring herself back to reality. “Right. Thank you.”

“Let me help you.” It sounded like a plea as it left his lips. “Let me keep you safe.” He lowered her hand back to her side and looked into her eyes. “Let me protect you, Meryl.”

She found herself avoiding his stare. “Yeah well…” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “That goes for you, too.” The mumbled. “You deserve to be safe, too. You deserve to have someone on your side.”

He gave her a gentle smile. “Thank you.” He laid a hand on her shoulder. “You are taking all of this a lot differently than I expected. No offense, but you aren’t scared?”

“Hm…” She shrugged a bit. “I don’t think I can be. If I’m scared then I won’t get my job done… I’ll freeze. Like I did before. And I hurt you.”

“Meryl…” He pulled her to his chest, leaning down into her shoulder. “It’s okay to be afraid. You don’t have to save someone’s feelings at the cost of your own.” She found herself reaching up to clench his coat at that, ignoring the burning in her hand. He wrapped his arms around her. “You deserve to feel.”

And she cried. She cried into his chest, clinging to him like a child. The job, the fire, the meeting, the burns. It all fell on her at once. Her sobs were soft, with quiet whimpers against him. The whole time, he rubbed her back gently, never saying a word. As the tears subsided she pulled away gently, wiping her tears with the uninjured hand. “I… I’m so—” She already knew he wouldn’t accept that. “Thank you.”

He leaned down further, pressing his forehead to hers. “Don’t hold back anymore, okay?”

“Mm…” The sound was all she could manage. Don’t hold back. Don’t hold back…Her fear? Her pain? Her weakness? All of her feelings? She closed her eyes, simply enjoying the closeness.

Maybe there had been more if they had the time. Maybe she’d have moved closer. Maybe she’d have told him everything.

But, as the sirens went off and an explosion erupted outside, they pulled apart. They knew before the announcement from the megaphone came through the windows. “Amorus Lynch has escaped! Everyone take cover!”

#mash #vash meryl #vash the stampede #meryl stryfe #trigun maximum #trigun manga #trigun fanfiction #trigun #trigun art

15 notes · View notes

ushirominya · 2 years

Text

meryl kofi request! ^_^

#vinyo art #rose guns days

44 notes · View notes

eventiderpg · 1 year

Text

Anonymous asked: mw faces?

There's too many to count ! So instead of writing pages, I tried to condense it somewhat. The following are very wanted: Ross Butler, Charithra Chandran, Angela Bassett, Steven Yeun, Stephanie Beatriz, Raymond Ablack, Kofi Siriboe, Robert Pattinson, Jonetta Kaiser, Ronen Rubenstein, Anya Taylor Joy, Jesse Williams, Chance Perdomo, Billie Lourd, Janelle Monae, Meryl Streep, Isabela Merced, Keith Powers, Hunter Schafer, Jacob Anderson, Sarah Paulson, Tessa Thompson, Madeleine Madden, Elliot Fletcher, Aubrey Plaza, Froy Gutierrez, Susan Sarandon, Miles Robbins, Charithra Chandran, Pedro Pascal, Julia Garner, Julia Jones, Zendaya, Elliot Page, Goldie Hawn, Norman Reedus, Constance Wu, Tracee Ellis Ross, Lucy Liu, Oscar Isaac, Zion Moreno, Cody Fern, Sigourney Weaver, Sinqua Walls, & Willow Allen !

And if any of our lovely muns have more to add, feel free to respond !

#new rp #thg rp #mumu rp #original character rp #oc rp #eventidemw

1 note · View note

azul-alvarez · 5 years

Photo

I started playing MGS for the first time in my life and this is my resume: two good boys and one (1) kinky boy.

Also, it got to a point where I stopped hearing “Meryl”.

Kofi || Instagram || Twitter

#metal gear solid #mgs #solid snake #otacon #psycho mantis #digital art #azul alvarez

3 notes · View notes

ungramodelocura · 6 years

Photo

El cine, una adicción fatal

Los archivos del Pentágono

“Ninguna sociedad democrática puede existir sin una prensa libre, independiente y plural”. Kofi Annan

No recuerdo con exactitud si fue hace 47 o 48 años, en algún cine de la Ciudad de México, que tampoco recuerdo -esto comienza a ser preocupante-, vi una película que me dejó boquiabierto. Se trataba de “El diablo sobre ruedas” una cinta asombrosa, realizada con un raquítico presupuesto y dirigida por un joven desconocido de apenas 25 años de nombre Steven Spielberg. Supe que era su “opera prima” y me prometí que, en adelante, seguiría muy de cerca la carrera de este cineasta que tan gratamente me había sorprendido. Pues bien, depués de casi cinco décadas, Spielberg ha resultado ser uno de los directores más prolíficos, rentables y exitosos en la historia del cine. Una amplia panoplia de realizaciones de todo género forman parte de su extensa filmografía: ha fantaseado con dinosaurios, nos ha aterrorizado con la furia depredadora de un gigantesco tiburón asesino, ha creado al más entrañable extraterrestre jamás soñado, nos ha abandonado a nuestra suerte sobre las mortíferas arenas de las playas de Normandía, ha dado vida a héroes legendarios del cómic o, cómo olvidarlo, nos ha estremecido hasta las lágrimas con las víctimas del holocausto. Y todas ellas fueron un éxito de taquilla y de público. Por esa razón este director infalible es conocido como “El Rey Midas de Hollywood”. Y para mayor gloria en su carrera, toca ahora con idéntico virtuosismo una de las teclas que hasta hoy había dejado inédita: el periodismo. “Los archivos del Pentágono” es una obra maestra y no me atrevo a imaginar siquiera las enormes dificultades que supuso el montaje de esta soberbia realización. Todo el talento de Spielberg queda aquí nítidamente expuesto. Desde espectaculares secuencias encadenadas, brillantes diálogos milagrosamente legibles entre el griterío de un babélico gallinero, travelings imposibles, hasta el confuso ajetreo de decenas de actores moviéndose de un lado para otro en las oficinas, despachos y pasillos de la redacción, pasando por el claqueo ininterrumpido de las máquinas de escribrir; y en los talleres escuchamos el golpeo frenético de las linotipias, el runrún casi poético de las rotativas y, por si fuera poco, la muy didáctica y magistral lección que nos ofrece de la compleja maquinaria que intervenía en la edición de un diario hasta llegar a manos de sus lectores. Un ejercicio de narración realmente sorprendente y digno de admiración y agradecimiento. Y queda claro que si además contamos con la colaboración de dos actores de primerísima fila y enorme prestigio -también esa elección supone un acierto o mérito del director -como son Meryl Streep, en el papel de la aristocrática Katherine Graham, propietaria y editora de “The Washington Post” y Tom Hanks como Ben Bradlee, su aguerrido e insobornable director, el éxito está más que garantizado. La historia que nos cuenta Spielberg está ampliamente documentada, y a disposición de cualquier curioso en las hemerotecas, sobre un execrable hecho ocurrido en EE.UU. al inicio de los 70 durante la nefasta administración de Nixon. Contraviniendo el espíritu de la 1ª enmienda, significó uno de los mayores atentados contra la prensa libre en la historia de aquel país. Pero prevalecieron la dignidad, valentía e integridad de un equipo de hombres que arriesgaron sus carreras, prestigio e, incluso, su propia libertad, al decidir enfrentarse heróicamente al Estado para abortar uno de los más ominosos intentos de abuso de poder contra la prensa libre. Y nada más, porque, ya ven, llevado por el entusiasmo -a veces me ocurre- he prolongado innecesariamente esta reseña, cosa que atenta gravemente contra la acreditada paciencia de mis improbables lectores. Y eso también supone un ominoso abuso.

Emilio Castelló Barreneche (Barcelona, domingo, 3 de febrero de 2018)

1 note · View note

intonews-blog · 7 years

Text

What Trump Is Doing Is Not O.K.

Thank God for the resignation in shame by Mike Flynn, President Trump’s national security adviser. And not just because he misled the vice president and engaged in deeply malignant behavior with Russia, but, more important, because maybe it will finally get the United States government, Congress and the news media to demand a proper answer to what is still the biggest national security question staring us in the face today: What is going on between Donald Trump and the Russians?

Sorry, Kellyanne Conway, I am not ready to just “move on.”

Every action, tweet and declaration by Trump throughout this campaign, his transition and his early presidency screams that he is compromised when it comes to the Russians.

I don’t know whether Russian oligarchs own him financially or whether Russian spies own him personally because of alleged indiscreet behavior during his trips to Moscow. But Trump’s willingness to attack allies like Australia, bluster at rivals like China, threaten enemies like Iran and North Korea and bully neighbors like Mexico — while consistently blowing kisses to Russian President Vladimir Putin — cannot be explained away by his mere desire to improve relations with Moscow to defeat the Islamic State. And the Flynn ouster gives our government another, desperately needed opportunity to demand the answers to these questions, starting with seeing the president’s tax returns.

We need to know whom Trump owes and who might own him, and we need to know it now. Save for a few patriotic Republican senators like John McCain and Lindsey Graham, the entire Republican Party is complicit in a shameful act of looking away at Trump’s inexplicable behavior toward Russia.

If Republicans want to know how they should be behaving on this issue, they should ask themselves what they would be saying and doing right now if a President Hillary Clinton had behaved toward Russia the way Trump has, and had her national security adviser been found hinting to the Russian ambassador to hold tight because a softer United States policy toward Russia was on its way.

House Speaker Paul Ryan and Majority Leader Mitch McConnell, what are you thinking by looking away from this travesty? You both know that if the C.I.A., N.S.A. and F.B.I. had concluded that the Russians had intervened to help Hillary Clinton get elected you would have closed the government and demanded a new election. Now it’s all O.K.? So you can get some tax cuts? Gens. Jim Mattis and John Kelly, our new secretaries of defense and homeland security, you are great patriots who both put your lives on the line in uniform to defend American values from precisely the kind of attack Putin perpetrated. Are you O.K. with what’s going on?

We need to rerun the tape. Ladies and gentlemen, we were attacked on Dec. 7, 1941, we were attacked on Sept. 11, 2001, and we were attacked on Nov. 8, 2016. That most recent attack didn’t involve a horrible loss of lives, but it was devastating in its own way. Our entire intelligence community concluded that Russia hacked our election by deliberately breaking into Democratic National Committee computers and then drip-by-drip funneling embarrassing emails through WikiLeaks to undermine Clinton’s campaign. And what have we done about it? Other than a wrist slap against Moscow, we’ve moved on.

That is not O.K.

I am not arguing that Trump is not the legitimate president; he won for many reasons. But I am arguing that he is not behaving like one. Trump presents himself as “Mr. Patriotism,” wrapped in the American flag. And yet he has used his Twitter account to attack BMW for building an auto plant in Mexico, Boeing for over charging for a government airplane, the cast of “Hamilton” for appealing to the vice president to reaffirm American pluralism, American newspapers for undercounting the size of his inauguration crowd and the actress Meryl Streep for calling him out for bullying a handicapped reporter. And yet “Mr. Patriotism” has barely uttered a word of criticism on Twitter or off about a Russian president who has intervened in our democratic process.

That’s not O.K.

“The Russians did not just hack into some emails or break into some banks in America. They attacked the very things that make America what it is — that makes it so special: its rule of law and its democratic form of choosing and changing leaders,” said Nader Mousavizadeh, who was a senior adviser to United Nations Secretary General Kofi Annan and co-leads the global consulting firm Macro Advisory Partners.

I am not looking to go to war with Russia over this. Back in the 1990s, this column was among the loudest voices warning against NATO expansion — that it would one day come back to haunt us, which it has, by making Russia feel threatened. I don’t care about Putin. His regime will fail because he is forever looking for dignity in all the wrong places, by drilling for oil and gas instead of unleashing the creativity of his people. But I am not willing to settle for evicting a few Russian agents and then moving on. We need to get to the truth, look it squarely in the eye and then act proportionately.

Trump and his senior aides have spent their first weeks in power doing nothing more than telling us how afraid we should be of Muslim immigrants who have not been properly vetted by our intelligence and immigration authorities. Well, Putin was vetted by the F.B.I., C.I.A. and N.S.A., and they concluded that he attacked our country’s most important institution — and Trump has acted as if he could not care less.

If the rest of us do the same, we’ll get the country we deserve, and it will not be great.

Source: www.nytimes.com

What Trump Is Doing Is Not O.K. was originally published on IntoNews

#TRUMP

0 notes

ivankahasbeentreatedsounfairly · 7 years

Photo

Sorry, Kellyanne Conway, I am not ready to just “move on.”

Every action, tweet and declaration by Trump throughout this campaign, his transition and his early presidency screams that he is compromised when it comes to the Russians.

That is not O.K.

That’s not O.K.

If the rest of us do the same, we’ll get the country we deserve, and it will not be great.

0 notes

frazzledazzlin · 1 year

Text

some zainab stuff bc i am growing attached to her also...

i think some people will be dickheads to her saying she needs to move on and let go of the ring she wears that was from zara (her deceased gf, they got engaged but zara got exploted in a raid before they could've gotten married) despite her saying once with a clear notion that she has no intention of wanting to move on.

almost considers getting the ring tightened around her finger so she never has to take it off but obvs for several reasons does not

everything zara left behind that day, zainab tries to make use of everything so she can remember everything about her; holds onto the memories with an iron grip.

nothing beats the gut wrenching feeling of waking up alone in the mornings the first few months and even years after that raid

she did have a cold nature when zara was by her side too, but got way quieter n more dismissive of others (not her friends) after losing zara

she got a crush or two on other people after some years but never talked about it with anybody, decided to just let the feelings wear off eventually because she just does not want to replace zara even though she's aware she's allowed to move on

#will add more later when i get idears aheehee #and ik people are allowed to tell you to move on lmao ive just made it that she does Not want to hear it especially after #she's said it once. she does not repeat herself and just gives mean stares or completely ignores the person trying to talk to her about it #will corner someone and give her worst if they're persistent about it tbh but that only happens once or twice and her friends let #her go ham lolz #speaking of friends its me friend and gf's thsc ocs meryl and kofi who make the old lady gang #i have got to draw them together one day #thsc oc #zainab thsc

13 notes · View notes

luckymeryl · 1 year

Text

Outlaw Insider Chapter 7

I forgot to post this here, but here is Outlaw Insider chapter 7. I told you I didn't forget!

If you enjoy my writing, please send me a kofi ko-fi(dot)com/kokohamstar . I'm a 32 year old living with her mom because she's covered in debt, so anything helps.

For the full story, please check out my AO3 post here.

“Welcome to the team, Vash.” Meryl shook his hand firmly. She might have gripped it a bit too tightly. She might have gotten a little paler than she was. Maybe it was the sweat that he saw on her brow that glistened under the moonlight, Vash couldn't help to think that she looked beautiful...just before she hit the ground.

“Meryl!”

“Senpai!”

The two ran to her immediately, checking her for any injury. “Meryl. Meryl are you okay?” Vash touched her shoulder, gently rolling her over to see her wince as her back hit the gravel. Her back. He realized. He pulled the cape off gently, setting it to the side.

“Oh Senpai…” Milly voice was the sound of defeat as she looked down upon her partner. As the cape came off, the damage came into view. The back of her dress had been burned into her skin in a mix of blood and dirt.

“Shit... Hey! We need a doctor over here! Please!” Vash’s voice was frantic. He was waking tired wounded citizens from their well-deserved rest. A few of them glared at him, others looked on with concern, but most of them just glanced over in unsympathetic curiosity. “Meryl… It’s going to be okay.” He touched her shoulder gently. It had to be okay.

When had it happened? When they were in the building? Why didn’t he notice? Dammit. Why the hell didn’t he notice?! She’d played it off so well. She played it off… just like he always did. Like she was fine. Like there were more important things to worry about. More important people than her.

The doctor crouched in front of him, tiredly cleaning the girl’s back as he stepped away. He wanted to blame himself. This had to be his fault somehow. He didn’t notice. She came back for him. But she still would have been there. With or without him, she’d have been in the heart of danger. Only Milly would have been with her instead. Milly would be the one carrying her out because Meryl had pushed herself too far.

She had always pushed herself too far. And there was no way he could have stopped her from doing so.

It would be midday before Meryl woke up, lying on her stomach on a blanket in what the town had turned into their makeshift clinic. It was a church on the outskirts of town, all the pews had been moved to the walls and in the center were blankets and cots for the injured to rest on while the town’s only living doctor and the few citizens who knew any bit of first aid made their rounds upon the wounded.

She groaned as the pain in her back set in, opening her eyes slowly. Her vision landed on the two, sleeping haphazardly back to back. Milly and Vash looked like siblings leaned against each other on the floor beside her. Milly blinked awake at the sound of her partner. “Senpai!” she leaned forward, causing Vash to drop to the floor with a grunt.

“Milly…” he sat up, rubbing his head gently before looking towards her, only to quickly avert his attention elsewhere. “Meryl!” With that he leaned forward, bracing himself on his hands. “Meryl I’m sorry. I didn’t know you got hurt.”

“Mm…” Meryl huffed a bit. “Honestly neither did I. Not this bad at least.” She acted as though she were going to push herself to a sitting position, but with a wince and a hiss, she gave up, relaxing best as she could onto the blanket once again. “How bad is it?”

“Uhm…” He didn’t know what to say. Bad? Gross? It’s going to scar? His stomach flipped. She was going to be scarred. Like him.

“Don’t worry, Senpai. It’ll be all better in no time!” Milly’s optimism was astounding.

Meryl actually laughed a bit. “So it must be pretty bad, huh?” She reached over, taking Milly’s hand gently. “Thank you both for being here.”

“Well we are a team, after all.” Milly squeezed her hand gently.

Vash was avoiding the shorter girl’s eyes as he mumbled. “Right. We’re a team.”

“That means no running.” Meryl said, firmly. “No self-pity about how everything is your fault or any other brooding.”

The former-blond simply blinked at the woman before laughing gently. “Right. No brooding. Got it.”

To say that the next few days were easy would be a lie. Meryl’s pain came in waves shooting through her skin. Despite living under the heat of two suns, nothing could have prepared her for the burning that had settled into her back. She wasn’t up and about twenty-four hours later like Wolfwood and Vash used to after their many disastrous escapades. She was bed-er… floor bound, feeling the searing ebb of pain flow through her nerves for hours, filled by a short time of peace or sleep. The doctor came by to apply salve to her back and patch it back up, but with limited resources, there wasn’t much he could do in terms of pain management.

Help from the closest town came three days later in the form of busses to transport the remaining citizens, food for those who couldn’t be moved, and more medical assistance. Not much changed for Meryl in this time. Anesthetics were hard to come by, and, despite Milly and Vash telling her otherwise, other people needed them more. They wouldn’t give up on trying to get her some kind of pain relief, and she wouldn’t stop refusing it. People lost limbs. People were burned worse than she was. They needed it more. Perhaps she’d underestimated her own injury, but she could bear it, she thought. She could get through it and heal and be back on her feet. Maybe not as fast as Vash, but as fast as she could.

“He’s only getting further away.” Meryl commented a week later, now able to sit up for a time with her back patched and her front covered by the same bandaging. “Amorous Lynch is going to be near impossible to find after this.”

“You’re still going after that psycho?” Vash frowned. “Meryl he could have killed you.” He handed her a glass of water and she winced at the movement of taking it in her hand. “You don’t need to get caught up in this again.”

“You’re going to just let him go? Shouldn’t you want to save people from him or something?” She stared him down in his silence. “This isn’t just a job, Vash. If I can catch him, I can turn him over to the authorities. Bounty or no, this guy has to be stopped.”

“Yeah but—”

“Does it have to be us?” Milly was the one that spoke up this time. Her brows were furrowed in worry. “We have done enough risk prevention, haven’t we? Isn’t this… isn’t this just too much?”

Meryl frowned at her partner. It wasn’t like the other to run away. It wasn’t like either of them to admit defeat. “We chased down the most wanted person on the planet Milly.” She reminded her.

“And he turned out to be innocent. Do you really think this guy is anything like Mr. Vash?”

Meryl was quiet at that. No. No one was like Vash. She didn’t have an argument for that. They’d lucked out with the most ‘dangerous’ man being nothing but a misunderstood puppy. They wouldn’t be that fortunate again. “He has to be stopped…” She repeated.

“But does he have to be stopped by us?”

The two of them were quiet for a long time. Even Vash couldn’t find the words to break the silence that had settled between them. He could watch the wheels turning between them as they both thought of what to say next to convince each other of what’s best.

“I’m not giving up.” Meryl said firmly. She set her eyes on Milly with determination. “I’m going to catch him. I’m going to stop him.” She clenched the cup in her hands. “And while I’m at it, I’m going to get a hell of a story to tell.” She added, “But if you want to go home, Milly, I understand.” And she did. She always did. If Milly had ever asked to quit or go back to the insurance society or to the office or even just go home to her large family, Meryl would have never held that against her.

Instead, Milly took a deep breath. “Then I guess we’re going.” Her voice was tired. “I can’t exactly leave you to your own destruction, Senpai.”

Meryl couldn’t help but be grateful for that. No, she’d never hold it against her partner for leaving. However, that didn’t mean she wasn’t grateful for the company. “Meryl.” She told Milly firmly.

Milly blinked at the other. “Sorry?”

“We started this job at the same time. Senpai isn’t really correct anymore. Besides, you make more sense than me most of the time. Just call me Meryl.”

“Right… Okay Meryl.” Milly smiled at that, pride beaming on her face.

It wasn’t as though Vash could let the girls go at it alone. And leading them off the trail obviously wasn’t working. So he decided to do the next best thing. He’d go with them. He’d protect them at their side. It was the only option he had. So a month later, when Meryl was able to dress herself fully, despite the burning sensation under her clothes, he was packed and ready to go. “So where to?”

Meryl started to put her cape on, the weight of her derringers pressing to her back before she quickly decided otherwise. “First we have to get a lead. No one here ever saw him, so the best bet is to go to the next town and see if they heard anything. With rumors there is a bit of truth. So we take what we can get.”

Vash took the cape from her, starting the daunting task of removing all of the small guns from their holsters and placing them into her suitcase. He wished she wasn’t so good at this. He wished she didn’t know where to start, but, unfortunately, he’d given her a lot of practice in the last few years.

“And when we find him?” Milly packed their new truck with their bags and what water they could carry. “How are we going to catch him?”

Meryl shrugged a bit. “With rope I guess.”

There was a hesitation before Vash laughed. A hardy laugh from his chest, causing him to double over. “Rope?!” Meryl watched him trying to regain his composure. “That’s your big plan? Rope?”

“Yeah well do you have anything better?” There was a slight pout to her lips as she glared up at the man.

“N-no! No I don’t. But I certainly didn’t expect that to be the only plan we’ve got!”

“Chains might be better…” Milly commented. “He can’t burn through those.”

“He can’t burn through anything if his hands are tied. And rope is easier to carry.” Meryl was already packing said item into the truck.

“I agree with the big girl.” Vash said, amusement still in his voice. “Chains are better. After all, how many times have I gotten out of a rope?”

“You could get out of a concrete block if you tried hard enough. You’re hardly an accurate example.”

He laughed again, this time gently. “Alright. Well pretend you’re trying to catch me…again. Treat this whole scenario like you would with me. Before you knew me.”

Meryl stopped moving for a moment. “Well we don’t know what environment we’ll have when we find him. A town. A village. A big city.” She chewed on her lip as she thought in a way that wouldn’t allow his smile to leave Vash’s face. “I guess it’d be best to corner him somewhere without any wood. Like…like in jail? Or maybe a vault? Like at the bank?”

“He’s never going to banks or jails though sen…Meryl.” Milly corrected. “But concrete walls… those are common in small towns right?”

She nodded. “But finding him in a small town. That’s going to be difficult. He’s going to where he can do the most damage.”

“Then it sounds like the plan is,” Vash started, loading the last bag into the truck and lifting the tailgate. “Corner him in a jail, vault, or otherwise concrete building.”

“Hm… it’s not really much of a plan, but—”

“It’s better than rope.” Vash teased.

“But!” She continued. “It’s a plan.” There was discomfort in her sigh. “We can leave tomorrow.”

Vash and Milly looked on in concern, Milly being the one to speak. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

“As ready as I will be. The longer we wait, the farther he gets, and the more people who get injured.”

Vash shook his head gently. “You’re quite the stubborn one, Meryl.”

“Yeah well… look who my example was.” She nodded toward him. “I don’t think anyone is as stubborn as you are.”

He rubbed the back of his neck shyly. “Yeah I guess you’ve got me there. Just…” He looked down at her, his gentle eyes focused on her. “Please don’t be like me. Be…be better. Smarter. Don’t hurt yourself over this.”

“Bit too late for that.” She laughed.

“I’m serious.”

Meryl nodded, smile fading. “I’ll do my best.” It was all she could promise. “We’ll save as many as we can. And we’ll come out alive on the other side.” But the damage to come was nothing she could anticipate. At least she wouldn’t be alone. “I’ll be okay. As long as you two stick by me.”

Milly patted her shoulder as carefully as she could. “We’re not going anywhere, right Mr. Vash?”

The dark haired man nodded. “Right. We’re a team.” He remembered he repeated his words from before, adding her own stipulations. “That means no brooding. From any of us.” He tilted Meryl’s face up to look at him. “No matter how things turn out. You’re doing things for the right reasons. You’re… we’re human.” He’d taken the title since his hair had gone black.

There was a blush that played over her cheeks. A burning she couldn’t blame on her injury. “Right. We’re human.” She agreed, ducking out of his hand. “So we only have one life to make things right.” With that, she walked past him, back to their makeshift lodgings, leaving him behind her, a sad smile on his lips.

He looked at her back with pain sinking into his heart. That was the first mark. That was the first step into becoming just like him. He didn’t want that for her. He didn’t want the martyrdom for her. He didn’t want the scars and pain. But this was the best he could do. Just…just be there. Just try to prevent all the damage he could, even as she ran headstrong into danger.

Was this what he always did to her? If so, he couldn’t feel more guilty for it.

#trigun #trigun fanfiction #trigun maximum #meryl stryfe #vash the stampede #vash meryl #mash #vashxmeryl #trimax

6 notes · View notes