un. independent rachel olmstead ( bullet ) of amc's the killing, diverging from canon after 3.07. deux. this blog is for writing and entertainment purposes only.
material.
un. my writing will, at times, be trigger heavy. i'd advise you not to follow if you're sensitive to topics such as rape and assault, violence, etc. deux. some things will be tagged, others won't. if you need something tagged, contact me. i tag triggers with ' trigger / ' or ' trigger mention / '.
muse.
un. bullet is not an easy character to get along with. she's abrasive and confrontational, hot - headed, and has lived on the streets for upwards of two years. i won't water down her scrappy personality for anyone's benefit. deux. if her attitude becomes an issue during our thread, we can always plot something else out.
shipping.
un. the muse is canonically homosexual and presumably homoromantic, so there will be no f/m ships unless they're platonic. deux. given that bullet is fifteen ( and a victim of recent violent sexual assault, ) smut is unlikely.
following.
un. i'm very cautious with who i follow on this blog because i prefer to have a quiet dash. if you don't have any writing on your blog, i won't follow you back. deux.if you're writing with users who make me uncomfortable, i'll immediately and quietly unfollow, or refrain from following period. these users are blocked and blacklisted for a reason. i don't want them on my dash. trois. i won't follow purple prosers because i can't understand what's being written half the time.
verses.
un. multi - verse and crossover friendly. deux. current timeline takes place during her recovery after being beaten and left for dead in the trunk of a car. she sustained severe physical trauma, flatlining three times in the twenty-four hours that followed before slipping into comatose for nearly three months. details are still a work in progress.
❛ I GOT MORE BALLS THAN YOU!
name. rachel olmstead. aka. bullet. age. fifteen going on sixteen. gender. cis female, she/her pronouns. date of birth. october twenty-eighth. residence. seattle, wa.
appearance. slightly malnourished, weight fluctuating due to living on the streets for nearly three years. stands at five feet, three inches ( on a good day. ) sports jet black hair with a streak of dark blue in the front, often looking greasy and dirty, with the sides and back shaved close. wears men's clothing. always looks on the brink of catching a cold.
( previous ) living conditions. squalor. she hung around skid row during the day, and squatted wherever she could at night, mostly in abandoned buildings or at beacon when beds were available. maintained at least a semblance of personal hygiene, but her stained smile told a different tale. clothes rarely saw the inside of a washing machine.
current timeline. parents are currently fighting against child protective services, but because of their negligence and abandonment ( knowingly allowing their child to leave home and live on the streets ), have been stripped of legal custody. after being discharged from the hospital, detective stephen holder was granted temporary guardianship of bullet until she's well enough to be put in the foster - care system.
bullet has every intention of getting the hell out of dodge as soon as possible to avoid this happening. accustomed to the lifestyle of living on the streets, she would sooner die than let an adult have authority over her. despite her extensive injuries, she can still be found roaming skid row, attempting to regain the trust her affiliation with the police shattered.
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‘ necrosis, son. death by enzymatic degradation. s’ just a fancy way of sayin’ it fucks up your neurotransmitters ‘til they ain’t transmittin’ no more. hell yeah, piranha’s got mad jaw strength — i saw this thing on national geographic where they were like, testin’ its bite or whatever ? said those suckers chomp down harder than a great white. bite force thirty times their body weight, ain’t that some shit ? ’
❛ ––––– whoa, whoa, whoa. hold up. that’s what you do in your spare time ? watch national geographic like some crusty old dude in an old folks’ home ? ❜ an opportunity presented itself and she’d have been damned if she didn’t take it. ❛ anyways, you know all them stupid hollywood movies about piranhas attackin’ people? hella exaggerated. they’re pretty chill about stayin’ in their lane unless you’re fuckin’ with ‘em or baitin’ ‘em like some kinda freakin’ dumbass. twitch would probably lose an arm. ❜
' just tell me something, was it really worth it? '
NO. it didn’t soothe that constant ache beneath her sternum. she wakes up to the same sun each morning and falls asleep beneath the same stars every night. kallie is still dead and nothing has changed and she thinks maybe if she numbs herself up to it, desensitizes herself, it won’t hurt as bad. she’s a tough kid, can take hits and give back tenfold, but her body is healing and her right hook isn’t what it used to be since skinner shattered her wrist bone.
❛ … this another one of your stupid life lessons ? can’t tell me you never picked a fight before. ❜
❛ no one. it don’t matter. just piss off, alright ? ❜
gaze cuts from the bathroom mirror, washrag pressed to the split in her lip. the basin is stained, streaked with blood spat from her mouth, and an air of bitterness punctuates the silence between them as she pulls back the cloth, tonguing the wound as if expecting it not to pulse and ache beneath even the lightest amount of pressure. she never forgot how it felt, to bear so many cuts and bruises at once. but if he thought this was bad, he should see the other guy.
‘ now, stuck ain’t the same as a cold case. i been stuck. waitin’ on warrants, lab results — waitin’ for the DA t’ pull his head out of his ass — blah, blah. that’s the shit they don’t tell you about, y’ know, all that waitin’. that, uh, that larsen case, a couple years back ? girl we found in discovery park ? that was a whole lot’a waitin’. but we got ‘em, so. job well done. you know how we do. ’
the sentiment catches him off guard, thumb swiping his lower lip ; gives him pause in the process of pulling dishes from a cabinet. one of the good ones. not something he’s heard in excess, but the impact is a little more significant when it comes from bullet.
‘ ––––––– linden ain’t bad. think she had it out for me when we first got paired up. ’
it’s a punchline, the best he can manage, like none of that was a big deal. the expression contained within a split - second’s glance tells a different story.
he clears his throat, turns his back again to pull the sunny d from the refrigerator and pour some of it out into a glass.
‘ this stuff’s like ninety - five percent sugar. damn teeth’re gonna rot out’cha head. ’
❛ nah, i mean ––––– stuck like, you’re out there strugglin’ to put two ‘n two together, meanwhile the killer’s jus’ kickin’ back, havin’ a smoke ‘n a beer, enjoyin’ his freedom. that kinda stuck. … ain’t that the same case where mayor richmond got shot or somethin’ ? ❜
how could she forget ? thirteen, fresh meat on the streets of seattle. it was the first time her parents begged and pleaded for their child to come home, worried she might end up like the larsen girl. two weeks away from her fourteenth birthday. she remembers the rumours that spread like goddamn wildfire and talk of detectives picking up some junkie, questioning him at the skate park.
❛ holy crap. that was you ‘n linden ! those pigs who grilled that meth - head ! small world, ain’t it ? ❜
she likes linden. reminds her of kallie in some ways. the freckled fair skin and red hair, mostly. can’t imagine that woman ever taking a liking to someone like holder under any other circumstance ( it’s the juxtaposition of their partnership. opposites attract. it works for them. )
❛ see, i like ‘em a li’l feisty sometimes. y’ know them redheads got a mean temper, right ? ❜ shoulders then hitch in a shrug. ❛ 1 - 800 - did i ask for your damn opinion ? i’d be drinkin’ those nasty ass v8 juices and chowin’ down gluten - free if it was up t’ you. ❜
‘ yup. venom’s in their dorsal ‘n pectoral spines. see, most of the time you get stung in the hand but some fool on catfishin’ kings caught one in the thigh. yo, piranhas are old as shit — like, they got fossils from 25 million years ago. ’
❛ yeah ! it actually breaks down red blood cells ‘n poisons the nervous system. it ain’t the venom that can kill you, either –––– it’s all that bacteria from the li’l pieces of spine ‘n other tissues that can break off ‘n cause mad infections, yo. piranhas are so badass! they can bite through a human hand in, like, five seconds ! ❜
“ i got you. it’s gonna be okay, you’re gonna be okay.” “i feel like everyone’s miles away from me.” “my mind is a dark place. you don’t want to be there.” “i know this hurts, but you have to stay awake.” “don’t close your eyes, please don’t close your eyes!” “i just want to be numb, i don’t want to feel anything.” “please don’t do this, don’t act like you care.” “you don’t care, nobody cares, just leave.” “you’re my friend, of course i fucking care.” “i fucked up, why do you not care?” “i can’t walk, just go on without me.” “you have broken ribs, take it easy.” “i have no idea how to do cpr.” “whose blood is that?” “apply pressure to the wound, don’t let go.” “don’t you dare fucking let go!” “what the hell happened to you?” “are they dead? did you kill them?” “do you know what you’ve done?” “you’re either with me or against me.” “who the hell did this to you?” “are you alright? you hit your head pretty hard…” “i can’t see! what’s happening to me?” “when was the last time you ate?” “what do you mean you’re fine? you are not fine!” “i’m fine, it’s just a flesh wound, i’ll be okay.” “for how long? how long were you bottling this up?“ “there’s so much blood, you won’t last.” “are you… throwing up in there?” “why aren’t you eating?” “just breathe… you’re okay, i promise, just breathe.” “i can’t breathe, i can’t –” "i woke up, and you were gone.” “just tell me something, was it really worth it?” "it’s okay to hurt and breakdown. you don’t have to be strong all the time.”
You wanna act like a man, I will treat you like a man. Make no mistake about it. I will swipe the floor with your little baby butch bitch ass, right in front of your little skank hoe girlfriend. You feel me?
‘ sounds like you didn’t give her much choice, li’l man. ’ he lets out a short laugh, involuntary and sincere. ‘ more than me my ASS. hey, just ‘cause you got a thing for rabbits and their stomach muscles don’t mean i can’t still swipe the floor with your ass. y’ know catfish are carnivores, ‘n they got taste buds all over their bodies ? ’
❛ nobody deserves t’ be shanked when they’re in diapers, yo ! get outta here. ❜ at least he keeps things interesting. ❛ ––––– yeah. some of ‘em are poisonous too. got these glands in their skin that secrete these nasty toxins when they’re stressed ‘n shit. did you know piranhas are actually omnivores ? ❜
truthfully, he hasn’t been at the grindstone long enough to leave room for COLD CASES. but there’s the ones you can’t crack, and the ones you can’t close — he’d take the former any day, because few things grate more than watching a perp walk on some technicality. red tape. insufficient evidence. whatever. that always reads like sloppy police work, and it rankles him in more ways than he can name.
goldie had walked, initially. cut loose real quick on skinner’s order, under the pretense of leading them to more bodies. like so much bullshit.
fuck skinner. he deserved what he got.
holder’s only regret is that it played out the way it did.
hands thrown up in surrender, he circles around the counter island and grabs that stupid apron with a theatrical sweep of his arm. ‘ alright, playa, just this once i’ma let you call the shots. can i start’cha off with somethin’ to drink on this fine morning ? ’
❛ aw, c’mon ! that’s bullshit ‘n you know it. there’s gotta be somethin’. ain’t’cha ever been stuck ? ❜
like solving a two - thousand piece puzzle from beginning to end with no interim. it must take a special kind of person to invest all that time and energy into solving murders, just so the public can spit in their faces and tell them they’re not doing their job fast enough. bullet was no exception. she reflects on that with only the bare minimum of understanding a fifteen year old street rat can have.
sometimes, when she’s been looking in the mirror too long and mapping out her scars, she still resents him for dodging those calls. wishes she’d never met him. that the pied piper finished the job he started. that she choked on the blood in her mouth. that it got into her lungs. and these are the times where she disappears.
but there are others –––– times where she looks at him and sees man instead of machine. he’s a person with the same capacity for human emotion as anyone else.
❛ … you’re one of the good ones. y’ know ? you’re a good cop. you ‘n linden are probably the best thing that’s happened t’ seattle. ❜
she snuffs out the cigarette ( before it burns down to the filter, ) then moves the ashtray back to its place atop of the coffee table. doesn’t comment on the apron, because the quirk of a brow says enough. original grilla is kind of false advertising for someone who doesn’t own a grill.
❛ man, i’m always callin’ the shots ! you got any more of that sunny d left ? ❜ the same sunny d she toddles into the kitchen for at ass o’clock in the morning to drink straight from the damn bottle ? damn right.