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allmoshnobrain · 4 months

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𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 33 of 35 | masterpost

word count: 2597 | ao3 link | fic's playlist

I could feel his heart tapping against my fingertips, a bit quicker now, a subtle blush coloring his cheeks. His blonde eyelashes looked almost see-through in the sunlight, his blue eyes sparkling and locked onto mine, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. I brought my hands up to his face, running my fingers over it slowly. He let out a sigh, lightly shutting his eyes like he'd been waiting for my touch his whole life.

✦ on this chapter: dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female! oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, romance

✦ a/n: Hi, everyone! I posted this chapter a little later than usual because I was too busy today, but it's here! Sorry for the delay. Also, some of you may have already seen this, but: I missed writing about Dave and Nore happy together a lot these last few days, so I posted a small extra chapter set somewhere between chapters 16 and 17 for all my Dave and Nore enjoyers 🖤 You can read it here. Hope you liked reading, feedback is welcome!

✧ you don't have to leave, you could just stay here, with me / forget all the party police, we could find comfort in debauchery ✧

“I should've been there with you,” James's voice, annoyed and concerned, crackled through the phone pressed to my ear. “You shouldn't have dealt with this on your own. I should've been right there beside you.”

“James, it's alright,” I mumbled, sparking a cigarette, propping myself against the payphone stand. It was late afternoon, and I’d dialed James to tell him all about my disastrous mission in Los Angeles. If I wasn't in tears at the moment, it was only because I'd already exhausted my supply in the hours before.

“Of course, it's not okay!” he burst out, matching my frustration. “Did you check with the neighbors? Wasn't there some dude you knew living downstairs?”

“Yeah, Ellefson. He bailed too. Apparently, they moved out together last week. Left no trace for anyone to follow,” I finished the sentence with a tremor in my voice, eyes burning with fresh tears, but I wasn't going to break down now. Not while James was on the line, his concern clear in every word he spoke.

“Fuck. What a mess,” he muttered. “Hey, it's gonna be alright. I think I've got his mom's address; I can try reaching out to her. We'll find him, Nore.”

“Thanks, James,” I said, feeling a bit better knowing that even if the day had turned to crap, he still had my back.

“I'm sorry about all this Pat shit. Had no clue she'd pull a stunt like that.”

“It's fine…”

“No, Nore, it's not. You know, you said the right thing to her. I never want to see that girl again. But I can hop over to Los Angeles if it means making her apologize to you,” he declared, his voice carrying a slightly menacing edge that hinted he might have wanted to go beyond a simple apology.

“James, you really don't have to do that. It'd be just playing into her drama,” I let out a heavy sigh. “All I want is to find Dave and sort this mess out once and for all.”

“We'll track him down, Nore. I promise. Everything's gonna be fine,” James tried to assure me, and I managed a small smile. There was something kinda sweet about how he was going all out to cheer me up, genuinely putting in the effort to help me out, just because it'd make me happy.

James was just impossible not to like.

“I know, Jamie,” I replied, letting the warmth of my smile show in my voice. “Thank you.”

The rest of February breezed by quickly; I suddenly realized that the one-year anniversary of my move to San Francisco had quietly passed. It seemed pretty wild how everything that had unfolded in the last few months had managed to cram into a year, shaping me in more ways than I could express. It was like I'd been a part of the boys’ life forever, like I couldn’t quite picture who I was without them in the frame.

March rolled in, bringing the end of winter closer and closer. As the days lit up and warmed, James and I kept our long-distance communication going. The phone calls from San Francisco to Long Beach, initially a bit spaced out, soon became almost a daily ritual, and I found myself eagerly anticipating those moments in an entirely new way. Sweet words of affection began to find their way into our conversations more frequently. I had to admit, I missed James more than I'd care to confess — not just the tour moments but also his touch, the sound of his voice and laughter, the blue in his eyes, and even the warmth of his kisses and the feel of his body against mine.

Being back at my parents' house had its perks: with no job on my plate and studies yet to kick in, I found myself drowning in free time. I dedicated most of it to diving into my studies and building up a solid portfolio in visual arts, gearing up for the application grind at the San Francisco Art Institute. The prospect of being in the same city as Cliff and the guys again had me stoked, but in a genuinely good way — I could barely contain my excitement for things to click into place.

Another thing gobbling up my time was my newfound camaraderie with Charlotte, one of my old high school friends. She’d been pouring her heart into her debut starring role in a theatre play, and I'd been chipping in as an unofficial production assistant, giving me a reason to hang out with her and break free from my parents’ house for a bit. On a bright Wednesday morning, the moment I stepped into the auditorium where the theater troupe was fine-tuning their craft, Charlotte threw me a curveball with an unexpected ask.

“Nore!” she squealed with excitement upon spotting me, rushing over and grabbing my hands in hers. Her green eyes looked almost teary, and her lips formed a small pout. “Thank goodness you're here. Everything's going haywire today, and I'm not sure if we can sort it out!”

“What’s going on, Charlie?” I inquired, intrigued, as I shrugged off my jacket, tossing it onto one of the chairs in the vacant audience area. “Did the dressing room light decide to bail on us again? You know I'm useless with those things.”

“Of course not!” she retorted, indignant, and I released a low chuckle.

“Just pulling your leg. What's up?”

“I need you to act in the play.”

I blinked, puzzled, furrowing my brow as I crossed my arms.

“You... Hold on, what? Charlie, the play is in two weeks.”

“I know!” she sighed, slumping into one of the chairs, defeated. “Why do you think I'm so desperate? One of the actresses can't perform anymore. And now the director wants to cancel the play because we won't be able to find a replacement on time!”

“And you want me to step in.”

“Yeah!”

“In a play that's premiering in fifteen days?”

“Nore, you've always been fantastic in our school's Drama Club…”

“No way, Charlie! How am I supposed to pull that off?”

“Nore, please, please, please?” she clasped my hand in hers, her eyes pleading. “It's my first lead role, I've been rehearsing for months! I promise to help you with the lines, I'll do anything!”

I sighed, resigned.

“Fine. But you owe me one,” I replied, and she let out an excited squeal before hugging me.

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! You won't regret it, I promise!”

Well, she was right — I didn't regret it. Actually, practicing for the play turned out to be a lot more fun than I thought. Plus, scoring some free tickets to hand out to my friends and family made me care a bit less about the crazy deadline to cram all those lines into my brain. Charlie and I basically lived in that auditorium for the next few days; I'd roll in there in the morning and wouldn't bail until way into the evening.

When Saturday rolled around, I decided to escape to San Francisco. Stuff for the band was picking up speed after those European shows. After snagging a deal to record the second album at a studio in Denmark, the guys figured a bash was in order to toast to the good news, and obviously, I had to be there. I arranged with my parents to spend the weekend over at Cliff's place with the boys. Luckily, they had some San Francisco business on the horizon, and agreed to drop by and give me a ride back to Long Beach when it was time to head back home.

I let out a sigh as I hit the old house where I used to live with Cliff, Dave, James, and Lars. It was like nothing had changed, memories still stuck in every nook and cranny; the first chats with the guys, James getting less shy as we got tighter, my first kiss with Dave, the first time we slept together, drinking together, smoking together, laughing together, loving together. And it stung, a sharp and dry ache deep in my chest, with the gut feeling that things would never, ever be the same again.

I mixed with the crowd, strolling into the living room; the first familiar face I bumped into was James', whose eyes lit up seeing me, a grin breaking out. He hustled over, grabbing my face and planting a surprise kiss on my lips, leaving me gasping, my face heating up in a flash.

“James!” I blurted out, pupils dilated in shock as I took a step back.

“My bad. Was that a no-go?” he mumbled, a persistent grin suggesting he had no regrets about the kiss. “Just damn happy you showed up.”

“I’m happy to be here too,” I whispered, my face still warm from his gentle touch.

“Geez, you two are such a clingy couple,” Cliff chimed in, coming over. I blushed, pulling James's hands off my face and avoiding eye contact.

“We're not a couple, Cliff,” I muttered, voice low, his comment knotting something strange and uncomfortable in my chest. “Excuse me, I need a drink,” I spun around, heading for the kitchen.

“Nore, hold up,” Cliff tagged along, standing by my side as I raided the fridge for a beer. “What was that just now?”

“Nothing,” I grunted, popping the kitchen door open and stepping into the backyard. Cliff sighed but joined me, leaning against the porch railing.

“Nothing? Seriously? You're not gonna start keeping secrets from me now, after 19 years?” he came closer, tilting his head to be right in my line of sight, impossible to ignore. I sighed, rolling my eyes at his persistence. “Hey. You and James weren't, like, a thing or something?”

“It's not like that,” I grumbled. “It's just... There's just too much going on, Cliff...”

I told him everything then: how James and I had decided to give in to our feelings during the tour, how I’d tried to find Dave after coming back, how everything went wrong, and now I had no clue where he was. And maybe involving James in all this was a mistake because, frankly, with each passing day, I found myself liking him more while still stuck on my feelings for Dave.

“Well, that sucks,” he remarked after I spilled my story, prompting a nervous little laugh from me. “So, you do like James, then?”

“Of course I like him,” I replied, with a resigned sigh.

“You like him, and yet you were upset because he kissed you just now?” he pressed on, and I rolled my eyes.

“Cliff, it's not that simple…”

"No, I get it ain't," he said, sparking up a joint, taking a slow drag before locking eyes with me, dead serious. "I get you still love Dave. I get you're on this quest to find him, and I'm betting it's gonna happen, Nore. You and him, you'll cross paths again 'cause I know you're head over heels for the guy. I'm pretty damn sure you two will work things out. But..." He hesitated, and I shot him a puzzled look. Cliff usually had his words lined up tight. It wasn’t like him to be unsure about anything.

"But?" I prodded, curious. He let out a sigh.

"But things are changing at warp speed for us, Nore," He handed over the joint, and I grabbed it, taking a slow drag. "We're growing up, for crying out loud. I mean, we're about to cut an album in Europe, can you believe that? A year ago, who would've thought? Things are moving quick, do you really wanna skip the chance to catch some happiness along the way? You don't know when you'll stumble upon Dave. No idea how long it'll take to straighten things out with him. Are you gonna keep dodging happiness till then?"

"Cliff, what are you getting at?"

"What I'm getting at, and I can't believe I'm saying this, but fine, what I mean is maybe you should quit fighting what you feel for James. I mean, you liked him before, but let's be real, you rolled back from Europe completely in love with him, didn't you?"

In love. Those words set my face on fire, my heart doing a marathon, and a zillion butterflies doing somersaults in my stomach. My first instinct was to argue with Cliff, but deep down, he wasn't totally off, was he? If I already had a soft spot for James before, now it was more like a full-blown obsession. It felt like a hunger, like I needed him to fill some kind of void inside of me. And somehow, this crazy feeling coexisted with the love I held for Dave, for the empty space he’d left behind. Everything was so damn new that I could barely wrap my head around it, let alone figure out how to handle it.

"I'm not in love with him," I mumbled weakly, and Cliff chuckled, giving me a shoulder hug.

"You're a lousy liar, you know that?" he said, and I rolled my eyes.

"Hey," a familiar voice called, and I glanced up, blushing when I locked eyes with James, propped against the door frame with a beer in hand. "Nore, everything cool?"

"I'm gonna find Lea," Cliff announced, sidestepping and shooting me a suggestive look before leaving me solo with James. I watched him saunter away, feeling my face heat up, and then turned my attention to James, his blue eyes zeroed in on mine.

"You alright? Sorry about that kiss earlier. Didn't mean to upset you," he said, his voice low, stepping close enough for me to sense the heat of his body. His attentive eyes studied my face, as if trying to decode my feelings from my expression. I sighed, my heart racing in a totally new rhythm when he gently cupped my face, resting my hands on his chest as he leaned in.

"James," I murmured, my voice shaking, almost like I was saying his name for the first time. He gave me a slight smile, his gaze zeroing in on my slightly parted lips with poorly disguised desire.

"What?"

"I don't want you thinking I'm here with you just 'cause I haven't tracked down Dave yet."

"I'd never think that," he whispered, edging even closer.

"James," I murmured again, almost like a prayer, and the way I said his name seemed to light up something hungry in him. He yanked me closer, his mouth crashing onto mine with a deep, needy moan. I sighed, trembling, my fingers tangling in his hair as I surrendered to his kiss, the dawning realization that I couldn't resist him any longer.

Actually, that I didn't want to.

He backed off, peppering soft kisses on my lips before resting his forehead against mine. His hands clung to my waist, tugging me close enough for our bodies to touch.

"I think we should head to my room," he murmured, flashing a smile. I chuckled softly, throwing my arms around his neck, and pulled him into another kiss.

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andreafmn · 2 years

Text

Collision - Chapter 11

Word Count: 4.7K

Story Description: (Y/N) Uley is back home after being away for four years. Her life is at its first standstill and she is taking this time to find out who she is without school. But she never thought that coming back to the reservation would turn her whole life around. In the midst of secrets and mystery, a man crashes into (Y/N)’s and her life will never be the same.

Chapter: 11/?

Warnings: 18+ parts (minors DNI), SMUT

A/N: Had to work around the human-vampire relation pregnancy 😅 but hope you enjoyed this kinda steamy chapter between (Y/N) and Carlisle, it's a tiny buffer before the inevitable heartbreak that will come😬

If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories. You can request at any time any story or one-shot you desire. Hope you enjoy, and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

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Chapter 11

“Where are you going so dressed up?” Allison mused as her daughter descended from the stairs.

“It’s for Bella Swan’s birthday,” (Y/N) laughed. “It’s at the Cullen residence. Alice, one of the Cullen kids, arranged a surprise party for her 18th birthday. Do I look good?”

“You look stunning, honey,” her mother smiled. The Uley matriarch couldn’t believe how grown up her daughter looked. Just yesterday she had been a little girl playing with a doctor kit, and now she was on her way to possibly become a real doctor. It also pained her that she was not as close to her as she wanted to be. She knew close to nothing about her oldest son, and her daughter was falling on the same track. “You’ve been getting awfully close to those Cullens, haven’t you?”

“Well, I did spend a whole week with them.”

“Oh, I know,” Allison grinned. “It’s just these days you seem to spend more time with Dr. Cullen than here.”

“Mom, what does Dr. Cullen have to do with this?”

“Just an observation, sweetheart,” the woman dismissed jokingly. “Be careful, alright? And have fun.”

“Thanks, mom,” (Y/N) smiled. “I’m probably gonna be late, so don’t wait up. Love you!”

“I love you too, honey!” she called out.

(Y/N) didn’t know she had been holding her breath until she reached her car. Her mother questioning her relationship with the Cullen family, most importantly Carlisle, had her nerves on edge. She was unsure why she was still keeping her relationship with Carlisle a secret, especially from her own mother. Maybe it was the fact that people believed he was now a 33-year-old doctor that was married to Esme instead of a centuries-old vampire forever aged twenty-three years.

“So, you’re still with that blood-sucker doctor?” Paul’s voice startled her as she got into her truck.

This type of interference had become quite common between the pair of friends. It was clear to (Y/N) that Paul would never accept her relationship. Given the rift between the species, there was nothing in the near future that could bring peace to them both.

“Can we not do this, Paul?” (Y/N) sighed defeatedly. “I understand you don’t like him, and I’m not asking you to be his friend. All I’m asking you is to respect him as my partner. That’s all. As my friend, I would hope you could extend me at least that courtesy.”

“Look, (Y/N). All I can promise you is that I’ll be here when he inevitably breaks your heart.”

She could not stand the smug smirk that was on his face like he knew a secret she didn’t. “And what makes you think he will?”

“Because he’s a vampire,” he chuckled. “He has maybe two or three more years before people start noticing that he’s not aging. And not even that, what would people say about the perfect thrity-three-year-old doctor dating an eighteen-year-old? What would people say?”

“Paul, get away from my car.” Her voice was stern. Her hands gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles went white. “Whatever I do not share with you about my personal life is of no concern to you. And whatever people think about me or Carlisle, does not concern me. I am sure in our relationship, and I don’t need anyone’s validation of it.”

“That’s why you keep it a secret from everyone, then? Because you don’t care what people say,” he pushed. “Let me know how that plays out. Have fun tonight, (Y/N).”

“Goodbye, Paul.”

“See you around, (Y/N).”

Through her rearview mirror see his form shrinking, the same smirk permanent on his face. She could not admit that he was right. In a matter of years, the Cullens would need to move from Forks before the townspeople started to look into their suspicions.

(Y/N) put those thoughts at the back of her head. She wouldn’t have to worry about that for a long time, she thought. There was no need to stress herself over it now.

As she arrived at the Cullen residence, Carlisle was waiting for her outside. He was dressed in a black suit, a blue scarf loosely wrapped around his neck. His radiant smile served as an accessory to his perfect face.

“You look ravishing, my love.” Carlisle opened her car door, extending a hand to help her out. He twirled her slowly, taking in the sight of her before dipping her as he kissed her gingerly. “I’m glad you could join us tonight.”

“Thank you, darling,” (Y/N) beamed. “You look very handsome yourself.”

He led her into the home and an involuntary gasp left (Y/N)’s mouth. Alice had gone overboard as usual, but it was an astonishing view. The room was lit by pink candles, paired with a plethora of crystal bowls filled with roses. The table that homed the intricate pink birthday cake was dressed in white, holding plates and silverware, as well as silver-wrapped presents. It made (Y/N)’s small gift bag look cheap.

“I thought Bella didn’t want a big thing,” she whispered to Carlisle. She was sure the Swan girl would hate the attention she would get during her birthday.

“This isn’t big,” he chuckled. “This is just how much Edward was able to rein Alice in. Once she gets an idea in her head, there’s no one that can make her desist of it.”

“Regardless, it’s beautiful.”

(Y/N) left her gift on the table, hiding it behind the professionally wrapped gifts before following Carlisle to the kitchen. There Esme was cooking a small meal since the only two people that could consume human food were Bella and her. Regardless, she was sure Esme had already set aside some food for her to take home as she had done a week ago after she had recovered.

Esme was accompanied by a rowdy Emmett and a scowling Rosalie. (Y/N) knew Rosalie wanted to be anywhere but there. Many would take her disdain for Bella unwarranted and far too extreme, but the Uley girl knew better. Rosalie could not stand a person wanting to renounce her humanity so willingly. She was angry that the one thing she wanted more than anything, Bella was so quick to want to get rid of. Thankfully, she held no qualms toward (Y/N), since she was considering all of her options instead of diving headfirst into immortality. If it weren’t for Edward, Bella would have joined them as a vampire the second she knew what they were.

On the other hand, Emmett was very excited. He went on and on about the surprise they had in store for Bella – a new stereo for her old and beat-up truck. Knowing the Cullens, she knew they would much rather have gotten Bella a new car. The stereo was just a compromise. He also rambled about all the things Rosalie and he did whilst on their trip to Africa – everyone in town believing they were in Dartmouth continuing their collegiate studies. The juxtaposition between Rosalie and Emmett was astronomical, but they simply worked.

“I’m glad you’re here, Rose.” (Y/N) sat next to the blonde, her gaze softening as she acknowledged Uley’s presence. “Was the trip back comfortable?”

“Comfortable enough,” she smiled softly. “Though I wish I was still over there. It’s dumb to celebrate the birthday of someone that doesn’t value her human life. I mean, she said she wanted no gifts, but I’m sure if Edward offered it, she’d jump at the chance to become a vampire.”

“Rose, why are you so harsh on her?” (Y/N) questioned. “I’m human as well and I will be facing the same question one day, but you don’t hold resentment toward me.”

“Because you actually value your human life. We all know every time you’re with Carlisle you’re debating whether immortality is something you can do. You appreciate the gift you have of running blood and a beating heart. She doesn’t.”

“Well, I understand that. But at least it will be her choice,” she countered. “It might not be the choice you would have made – at the end of the day, the only one that can decide what her future will be like is Bella. Maybe you can ease up a little bit on her?”

“I mean, I won’t say anything, but I can’t help what my face will look like,” she grinned.

“Okay,” (Y/N) chuckled. “If you feel too annoyed at any point, you can pull me aside at any time.”

“Make it look like a Mean Girls scene?” Rosalie laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Carlisle joined them, placing a kiss on (Y/N)’s cheek and wrapping his arms around her waist.

“Just checking on Rose here,” she smiled, leaning into his touch. “Make sure everyone enjoys tonight.”

“Isn’t that nice of you, love?” He gifted his girlfriend a gleaming smile. “Now, can I steal her away for just a second?”

“Be my guest.”

Carlisle led her to the back porch and memories of the night he confessed to being a vampire came flooding back. She remembered the tears, the hurt, the disappointment. However, she didn’t feel that anymore. Now, she was happy, in love, and excited about the future.

Soft music trickled out onto the porch, the patio lights glimmering above them. Carlisle twirled (Y/N) and placed one hand on the small of her back and the other held hers. They danced softly under the moonlight, enjoying each other’s presence. Moments like these were what made eternity such a gratifying temptation.

“Have I ever told you that I love you, Carlisle Cullen?” (Y/N) looked up into his golden eyes, their height difference very apparent the closer they were.

“I believe you have mentioned it once or twice,” he smiled. His head dipped down and his ice-cold lips touched to hers. “If I’ve ever known love it is because I met you. I am completely and utterly consumed by the desire of being with you.”

“You know, I wouldn’t mind forever if it always felt like this,” she whispered. It had been the first time she had admitted her contemplation of eternity by his side.

“Are you sure you’re not just intoxicated by the moonlight?” He didn’t want to let on how excited he was. As much as he questioned if her becoming a vampire was the right thing, unlike Edward, he dreamed of eternal life alongside her and being the one to give it to her. Maybe it was for selfish reasons, but he couldn’t see himself continuing forever by himself. “But, are you serious? You would consider the change?”

“It’s not something I take lightly,” she smiled looking down. “Leaving my mom, becoming my brother’s enemy, abandoning my friends again – it is the hardest decision that I would ever have to make. But you, Carlisle Cullen, are worth it.”

She placed a warm hand on his stone-hard cheek, making his eyes flutter closed and a smile to creep onto his face. (Y/N) pulled Carlisle’s face down softly, connecting their lips in a soft and passionate kiss. One Carlisle deepened by placing his hands on her face and pulling her in.

“Nevertheless,” she chuckled slightly. “I would like a few years still of being human; a couple of birthdays. I could not be forever eighteen with a twenty-three-year-old partner.”

“Anything you want, my love,” he smiled. Happiness was the only thing that surged inside the vampire’s body. Knowing that the possibility of spending the rest of their lives intertwined grew larger every day had him excited for the future – for the first time in hundreds upon hundreds of years he was excited about the future. “I can understand not wanting to spend the rest of your life the same age as my children – going to high school and college every few years.”

“Yeah, and have people still believing you and Esme are together?” (Y/N) teasingly laughed. “I’ll take the few human years over that. Maybe even enroll in medical school in the next town we go to. A fresh start?”

“Fresh start.” He gave her another kiss, hugging her body to his. “Now, we should be heading inside. Bella’s here.”

The couple headed inside, walking hand-in-hand, bright and unwavering smiles on their faces. Nothing could have prepared them for the rapid decline of the night. Bella’s papercut detonated a series of events that left everyone on edge. The droplet of blood activated Jasper’s never-ending hunger for human blood, prompting Edward to push Bella back in an effort to keep her protected from his brother’s fangs. A move that backfired as she collided with a glass table that shattered on impact, embedding small shards of glass in the girl’s arm.

(Y/N) wanted to spring to action, but Carlisle held her back. As much as he knew she wanted to help, he would not allow her to be in the line of fire. They were being faced head-on with the consequences of having humans inside a vampire circle.

Emmett wrapped his giant arms around the blonde boy and did his best to pull him out of the house. The rest of the family followed behind, all hands on deck to make sure Jasper was as far from the house as possible.

Edward and Alice had been the only two to stay back, working their hardest to not breathe in the scent of blood. Still, it was easy to see that they were struggling. Even if they had been around the liquid for a long time, no one had as strong a resistance as Carlisle. Once the imminent danger was far from reach, the older Cullen took care of Bella.

“Edward, they’re right,” (Y/N) intercepted as Carlisle and Bella tried to convince the lovesick boy to leave the room filled with the metallic smell. “It’ll be better if you go check on Jasper. You too, Alice. We’ve got things handled here, guys.”

The vampiric siblings left the room with apologetic stares toward the injured girl. (Y/N) was sure they wanted to stay as moral support, but the longer they did, the worse their hunger would get. And Carlisle would not be able to protect either human girl from two feral vampires on his own.

“I’ll start clearing out the mess outside,” (Y/N) announced. “Unless you need any more help here?”

“I’ve got it covered, dear,” he smiled. “Thank you.”

(Y/N) left the kitchen with a trash can and cleaning supplies. Once back at the living room, she saw Esme already getting started. She could see that the woman was holding her breath, even the sight of the blood had her woozy.

“Esme, let me,” she offered. “Be with your family.”

“It’s okay,” Esme slurred slightly. “I’m okay.”

“You don’t have to be. Seriously, I’ve got this,” (Y/N) smiled. “Get some air.”

It did not take long for (Y/N) to clear out all the glass and the trampled roses, careful of the shards and avoiding another disaster. After all the shrapnel was cleared, she got to mopping the floor. Almost instantly, the white mop turned a deep hue of pink, sopping up all the crimson liquid that had dripped onto the white floor. The smell of bleach burned her nostrils, quickly starting a headache.

Satisfied with her work, (Y/N) threw away the bags with the tainted glass and the used mop, making sure to pour bleach into the trash can to mask the smell. Then she headed back to the kitchen to check up on Bella and Carlisle.

“What about you and (Y/N)?” Bella inquired. “How are you getting over this whole human-vampire thing? It’s not that different from Edward and me. Yet, you guys make it look so easy.”

“It hasn’t been,” Carlisle sighed. “Unlike… my son, I do not see this as a damnation on one’s soul. (Y/N) can and will make the decision for herself. Who am I to tell her what her life should be?”

“Does she want to be a vampire?” Bella continued. “And would you regret turning her into one?”

“It seems she’s leaning toward that decision,” he smiled. “Regardless of what she decides, I’m just happy that I was able to meet her. Having her in my life has been the greatest gift immortality has given me. I don’t see how it can be so bad when it led me to her.”

(Y/N) could not help the smile that crept onto her face along with a red color on her cheeks. “How’re we doing here?” she interrupted. “Anything I can help with?”

“We’re just about done,” Carlisle announced. “I suppose I should take you home now.”

“I’ll do that,” Edward said, coming into the room silently.

Carlisle motioned at (Y/N) to leave the couple by themselves, disappearing into his bedroom after giving a quiet goodnight.

The bed was perfectly made, unchanged since (Y/N)’s week-long stay at the residence. She smiled at the nights she spent there. Though sick and weakened, it had been the longest time she had spent with Carlisle uninterrupted.

“Penny for your thoughts, darling?” Carlisle broke her out of her contemplation. “You seem a little out of it.”

“I’m just thinking back to a couple of weeks ago,” she smiled. “It was intimate – the baths, the cuddles, the closeness. It makes me think…”

“Of what goes beyond that?” He grinned as she sheepishly nodded. “I can’t lie and say I haven’t thought of it before.”

“Well, what are we going to do about it? I am sure there is an obvious solution to this,” she teased. She slowly started losing the distance between them, rounding the bed. “But we’d have to start by removing this shirt.”

Her fingers danced over the buttons of the blood-speckled blue shirt. They had already witnessed what was under their clothes, but this night felt different – this night was different.

“Don’t start something we can’t finish, love,” Carlisle grumbled. His eyes had gone dark as he followed her slim fingers button by button. As she worked her way down, more of his marble white skin was exposed. “We shouldn’t, dear.”

“Why not?” Now she was wearing a devilish grin. “I know we both want it. We should allow ourselves to have the things we want.”

“I could hurt you.” He took a sharp breath as her hands went up his chest, traveling to his shoulder and ridding them of the stained shirt. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You have the best self-control of all the vampires I know – though I don’t know many,” she chuckled. “I know you would never hurt me, not intentionally. And I am stronger than I look; I can take it, darling.”

“I just don’t think…”

“Stop thinking, Carlisle,” she incited. “Let go. For once, let go.”

And he did.

--------------------------18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI-----------------------

Carlisle crashed his lips onto hers, hungry. It had been years since he had indulged in matters of the flesh, always finding it an unsatisfying activity with the partners he had been with. This was different. This time he was in love, he was pent-up, he was touch deprived. His bare chest collided with hers, eliminating whatever space was left between them.

“I want to make sure this is something you actually want,” Carlisle interrupted. “We can stop at any point, alright?"

"I want this, Carlisle,” she panted. “I want everything with you.”

(Y/N) pulled him down by his neck, connecting them once more. She was nervous, of course. It was her first time, but she felt ready. Though she lacked in experience, she knew what to do. Years and years of reading had taught her what she needed to know.

Carlisle turned her, his lips on her neck and his hands on the back of her dress. She brushed her hair forward, providing him with more access to her skin. As he slid her zipper down, chills ran through her body. The man could see how her skin prickled at his touch, which worked to turn him on even more. Being able to hear and see how her body reacted to him made the arousal in his own body grow to exponentially new heights.

Once the dress had been zipped completely down, Carlisle slid the sleeves off her shoulders, letting the piece of fabric to fall and pool at her feet. His fingers gingerly traced her body, leaving a kiss on every spot he passed – her neck, kiss; her shoulder, kiss; the curve of her waist; her hips, her thighs. Down there he grabbed the dress and helped her step out of her clothes.

“You look ravishing, my love.” He joined her once more face-to-face, kissing her hungrily. “Perfectly exquisite.”

“Wait, wait, Carlisle,” she breathed out. Carlisle was perplexed by a spot on her neck that drew out soft moans and pants from her mouth. “Your family. They will hear.”

“Edward took Bella home.” Back to her neck. “The rest are still out with Jasper. We are all alone.”

With a wicked grin, he bounced her up, prompting her to wrap her legs around his waist as he moved them to the bed. Without breaking the kiss, he laid her gently on the bed. His lips traveled her body, stopping at the mounds of her chest. With his mouth, he lapped at one and his hands gave attention to the other. Carlisle coaxed the most guttural moans from her, using so little stimulus he was able to elicit such deep reactions.

Every part of him was cold, ice-cold. It contrasted against her now over-heated body and helped keep her at a comfortable temperature. He was comfortable, he felt natural.

After he felt satisfied he’d taken care of her stiff peaks, Carlisle’s mouth traveled down once more. He left kisses on her stomach, her waist, her hips, hovering over the waistband of her underwear. She had not planned for this night to go this way, but she was glad she had at least worn an attractive pair.

(Y/N) prompted herself on her elbows, watching as Carlisle used his teeth to pull the black lacy undergarments off her body. This was a new look on the man. Long gone were the golden eyes that stared at her, instead they were replaced with an unparalleled hunger – lust. And she could not decide which gaze she liked more.

As he came back up, he kissed up her legs, his lips tickling her legs. Carlisle wanted to stretch out the moment, make sure he savored every bit of the woman in his arms. Unlike his other “conquests,” she was special, and he wanted to make sure she felt that way.

“Carlisle,” she giggled breathlessly. “Stop teasing me. I need you.”

“Anything you want, dear,” he grinned.

That’s when he started his feasting. Carlisle licked a stripe up (Y/N)’s fold, fishing out a stammered gasp from the girl. She was sensitive and completely drenched. The man started working overtime when he circled his mound over the tender mound that lived at the top of her cunt. He flicked his tongue, sucked, and circled. Her screams of pleasure only worked to light a fire in him. (Y/N)’s sweet nectar was his source of food, and he was ravenously hungry.

Soon his mouth was aided by a cold hard digit, sliding expertly into her drenched entrance. He made (Y/N) explode in a pattern of screams and mewls, her hands diving into the golden strands of his hair, pulling and grabbing.

“Fu~uck,” she mumbled out as Carlisle squeezed in another finger. “Baby, I’m close.”

“Cum, darling,” he muttered against her. “I wanna feel you on my fingers.”

He pumped faster, making sure to curve the tip of his fingers to reach the spongy spot that would yield faster results. With each movement her insides got wetter and wetter, making it easier to slide one more digit into her. He knew it was her first time — though not able romantic as he would have wanted to give her — and wanted to make sure she was prepped and stretched enough for her enjoyment.

This was more than the utmost carnal act; it was a demonstration of the love and trust they held for each other. Not only was (Y/N) trusting Carlisle with the experience and her body, but she was also trusting him with her life.

With a few more strokes, (Y/N) let herself come undone. Her legs clamped around the man’s head, her hands gripping his hair for stability. For the longest time, she had theorized how her first orgasm would happen. She had read about it, of course, and she had partaken in certain solo ministrations. But nothing had felt like this. This was an out-of-body experience — a spiritual one even.

“Carlisle, baby,” she whispered. “I need you. I-I need to feel you inside me.”

The man wore a toothy grin, the devil flashing in his eyes. His hand reached for the bedside table, pulling out a silver wrapper from it. (Y/N) followed his movement, laughter slowly building up in her throat.

“Why would we need that?” (Y/N) chuckled as she propped herself up by her elbows. “It’s not like you could get me pregnant.”

“I am a doctor, darling,” he smirked. “I’ve got to lead by example.”

Without another question, Carlisle slipped the sleeve on. Not that a vampire like him would need it. Nevertheless, he felt it was his medical moral duty to wear one. Carlisle aligned himself with her entrance with one hand, placing the other gingerly on her cheek. His eyes glazed over with love and adoration, and his lips whispered a kiss onto hers.

“Are you ready?” He asked tenderly. Carlisle knew her body was prepared, but he wanted to make sure her mind was. He waited until (Y/N) shyly nodded, responding with a sweet smile. “Alright, my love.”

In one move his cock glided into her, fitting inside to the hilt on the first try. (Y/N) let out a strangled cry, feeling completely full. Her wetness swallowed him perfectly, aiding his member as he slid in and out. It did not take long for Carlisle to find the right rhythm, pumping in and out of the moaning woman, his experience clearly showing.

(Y/N) startled the man when, in one fell swoop, she flipped him onto the bed and placed herself on top. Carlisle was surprised at the strength she had shown by changing their positions. She was reaching areas she did not know were there.

Carlisle placed his ice-cold hands on her hips, stabilizing her body as she rode him to their climaxes. He was enthralled by the view – how her breasts jumped, how her nails tried to dig into his chest, how her head fell back in pleasure, how her mouth let out the most enchanting sounds. She was the perfect view, the only one he ever wanted to look upon.

“Fuck, baby,” she moaned. “I’m close.”

“Just hold on for a little more,” Carlisle whispered. “I’m almost there.”

He started meeting her jumps by pushing his hips upward, hitting her up to the hilt. (Y/N) could not help the sounds spilling out of her throat now, every movement was sending electric spurts through her body, not being able to feel Carlisle’s cold anymore.

(Y/N) had dreamt of this moment. She was completely connected to the man she loved, giving herself, body and soul, to him. It felt like the answer to a prayer she had no idea she had made. Carlisle was the answer to all of her most inner desires.

Picking up the pace, and an agonizing hold on her hips that would definitely bruise, (Y/N) guided them to the peak of ecstasy. Each of them screamed out the other’s name like it was the most beautiful song they had ever heard.

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

She collapsed onto him, using his body to bring her temperature down. Carlisle wrapped his arms around her, holding her as close as humanly possible. He breathed in her scent; it was different after the momentous occasion they had just shared.

They basked in the silence of the house, the silence of the moment. Until Carlisle broke the auditory void. He asked, “How do you feel?”

“Like never before,” (Y/N) smiled. Her breathing was still staggered, working hard to stabilize itself after that cardio workout. “Can’t believe we waited this long to do that.”

“It happened when it needed to,” he chuckled. “Now, you should probably rest.”

“O~or,” she grinned. “I could go for a round two if you can.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice.”

As they kissed again, (Y/N) could not help but commit the moment to her memory. She was in love, she was happy, and there was nothing in the world that could take that away.

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nerdragenewvegas · 1 month

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Fallout fics I've gone and done

Outing myself as Cantique the Ao3 gremlin here I guess. These all contain smut.

A Well Timed Scandal - Cooper Howard/Female Reader. Pre war (will go into the post-war timeline.) No current content warnings but I'll be tagging as I go. Will be multi chapter. Johnny places his cigarette in the carved out groove of the ash tray, leaning in and resting his elbows on the desk, like he’s leveling with you. “You wanna know why we cast Gilda in Empire on the Nile?” He asks. “Because there was one too many rumors about Keith McKinney being a fan of ‘Greek stuff’ for us to contend with. Now, originally, we just wanted them seeing each other,” he admits, “but I’m not gonna complain with the results.”

“So you want me to marry Cooper Howard?”

He shakes his head, laughing under his breath. “Marry? No, no, lets play that by ear,” he seemingly assures you. “What we want — need — you two to do is make it look like you’ve been having an affair.” You must look like you’ve seen a ghost. This is insane. “Explains his divorce, gets people talking about you two as a pair, gets eyes on this movie you’re filming together — now, don’t go outright saying it, of course. We just wanna’ make people read between the lines, get them curious enough to get them into the theater to see the chemistry on the screen.”

--- Kinda Like a Cowboy - The Ghoul/Lucy, contains spoilers, porn with plot. Please read the tags for CNs but there are definitely CNs. Unhinged stuff involving guns. Currently two chapters but I'm cooking a third.

"I’d be real careful with that line o’ thinkin’,” he warns, raising an arm and bringing it to brace against the wall beside her head, all but pinning her to it. They may not be physically touching, but they’re so close to it and he’s looking at her like she’s a meal (which should be concerning because she knows he literally eats people) and she really, really wishes they were touching right now. “Because I can be nice. Real nice.” His free hand reaches up to her face, and she’s so focused on watching his expression and how close his face is to hers that she doesn’t even realize until his thumb brushes over the barely-healing split in her lip. “…But I don’t think nice is what ya’ want, is it?” More under the cut, they're New Vegas fics fyi~

----

Doctrine & Covenants - Joshua Graham/Female Courier with some Vulpes/Female Courier and Boone/Female Courier. Extremely longform (48 chapters, 286,349 words and still going) fic that I've been working on since 2022. It's imperative you read the tags and heed the content warnings as it does contain some noncon. First chapter is a little rough and I'll rework it one day but the rest is fine. Tells the story of Courier Six confronting her own trauma when she visits Zion in Honest Hearts thanks to Joshua not so much teaching her about God (although he tries) but teaching her about forgiveness and love despite sin. Lowkey a bit of a personal one for me as I'm an ex-mormon myself and it's been a nice avenue for me to kinda work through my own feelings while deconstructing.

“I will not judge you – I understand better than anyone else what it’s like to be willing to do anything to escape your own history,” he explains, “but you are a good neighbor to us. The tribe cares for you, Follows-Chalk and Waking Cloud care for you, and I care for you.” He holds her gaze as he says this, speaking firmly, as though there’s no room to budge on his statement. “And as someone who cares for you, I want to let you know that this is something we can help with if you wish.”

Six doesn’t say anything, her jaw tense as she casts her eyes downwards, and Joshua worries that he’s lost her.

“And as for whatever has happened before you came to us,” he says, “I want you to know that it is forgiven in Zion.”

Six shifts uncomfortably, her eyes glancing up at him, but only momentarily. “I’m not religious, Joshua,” she says. “That’s sweet, but I’m sorry.”

“I know,” he says plainly. “I’m not speaking for God, though. I am speaking for myself.”

“But you don’t even know what I’ve done.”

“I don’t need to. All I need is to know who you are now.” ---

Raze It, Raze It - Joshua Graham/Female Courier. Oneshot, there's smut in here. Honest Hearts bad ending but the Courier is an enabler and basically encourages Joshua to keep going until he's started a holy war. Make sure to read the tags for CNs.

“Bring me Vulpes Inculta alive and I will give you a child.”

He gazes up at her when she says this, in awe of her naked form as she takes him so well, his fingers digging into her supple thighs, the light that pours in through the seams of their tent illuminating her from behind. She is divine. Remarkable. A miracle. And she offers him a child, an opportunity to have the eternal family he had been sure he had lost all right to. At first, he had thought they would go without. He has two decades on her at even his most conservative of guesses, and she is so young and healthy compared to him that if not sent to him directly by God, he’d be sure this was perverse.

But despite his age and despite his burns and past and all that he is, here she is; the most feminine of all forms, joined with him at the flesh, offering to grow and bare his child. All of her, this perfect creature, here, for him and only him.

“Anything,” he finally says. He reaches a hand up to cup her face and she nestles into it, her cheek so soft against his own burnt and scarred palm as she rides him. Oh, she’s so beautiful. He watches her on the battlefield, striking down Legionary after Legionary, a true Holy Host. If Joshua is the sword, she is the arrow.

#fallout fic #the ghoul #fallout tv series #new vegas #fallout #fallout series #ghoulcy #lucy x cooper #cooper x lucy #lucy x the ghoul #cantiquefics

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boygiwrites · 3 months

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Harley D. Dixon 26

Harley D. Dixon's Pinterest Board! Harley D. Dixon's Playlist!

📖Chapter List.

Author's Note.

We. Are. Back!!

It's been almost six months!! 😶 Motivation comes and goes, but I'm very happy to be posting again. Like I said in a comment on Ao3, this book is too special to me to ever abandon. Thank you for your patience!! 💙

When Rick kicks the stool out from under Jim's feet, there's a simple crunch sound, and then he's dead.

I watch from afar as his body dangles from the rafters like a doll filled with sand, wondering why I thought it would be louder. It feels like I can breathe again. As if I've had a noose of my own wrapped around my throat until this very moment. Jim's dead. He ain't a threat. Just dead and dangling. Silence pours out across the farm. It feels strangely comforting; a hug from somebody you thought you didn't like.

I know Dale would disagree. I don't gotta ask to know he didn't want this.

If he weren't under six feet of dirt and bugs right now, I think I'd tell him I'm sorry.

Not just for Jim having to die, but also for being angry. He knew it never did nobody any good to be angry. If I hadn't told Carl to leave that muddy walker alone, wanting it to suffer and pay for some crime weren't even its fault, then maybe Dale would still be here.

I kinda realize in this moment that I don't care if dead people don't gotta see bad things. Because Dale ain't get to see the good things anymore, either. Like books and soup. Hugs, jokes. The baby, once it's born. Neither does Momma or Sophia or Shane.

It's like Jim said. I should be dead by now. On account of all laws of nature and chance, I should be long dead.

But obviously, I ain't.

And I'd be a stupid, silly, brainless little girl to not think that makes me at least a little bit lucky.

As I fiddle with the metal buckle of my overalls, Dad and Rick carry Jim outta the shed, their hands hooked around the dead man's armpits and ankles. Carol's probably thinking something like, He's with his loved ones now. But I ain't Carol, and I don't believe in heaven, so all I'm thinking is, I hope it didn't hurt. I've never had my neck snapped before, so I wouldn't know. They shuffle over to the pile of wood and walker bodies, tossing him on top, dusting their hands off on their pants. They's gonna burn him. No graves for them that ain't family.

Good. We have enough of those, anyway.

Dad and Rick turn away from the pile, their faces largely blank.

Before they can see me, I stand from my spot near the fence and scurry away, because I know I'm not meant to be watching.

That morning, everybody gets busy doing something. Whether it's bringing supplies into the house or cleaning a grimy rifle, nobody's twiddling they thumbs. There's something about putting work into a thing that needs it that clears the mind, I guess. Stops us from thinking about Jim, anyhow. Me, I help out by going around with a basket of fresh fruit, handing them out to anybody who wants some.

The first people I swing by are Rick and T. They've begun reinforcing the fences together, using old metal sheets and planks of wood to barricade any weak points they find. They gratefully take a juicy pear each, leaning against their handiwork to bite into the sweet flesh, groaning at the taste. Something nice happens in my chest when I see them smile. It's like looking at a puppy. You just can't be sad.

"Wow, this is good," T-Dog nods, turning the fruit over in his hand. "Thanks, Harley."

Rick doesn't say nothin', but I'm just glad to see him enjoying himself. Even for just a moment.

I head over to Patricia and Carol next, who are scrubbing at some laundry over by the trees. I earn myself two more smiles when they take a couple peaches, leaving them to their own devices and making my way through everyone else. Herschel, keeping Maggie company as she hangs up some wet clothes over a line in the sun. Jacqui and Lori, tidying up camp a bit, preparing lunch. Jimmy, polishing guns.

When I give a pear to Dad, who's fixing some of his crossbow bolts, he kisses my cheek as thanks.

And Beth. I don't forget her. She sits in the bay window of her bedroom, nibbling away at a green apple.

I know eating a good piece of fruit ain't never stopped nobody from wanting to kill themselves, but everything counts.

I've only got a peach, apple, and a pear left tumbling around in my basket when I approach Glenn and Andrea. They're stood around the hood of Dale's RV, frowning into the rubber tubes and gears like there's a jigsaw puzzle in there, muttering to each other.

"You gotta tap it three times," I think he's saying, pointing at something, "And—"

"— And give her a twist," Andrea sighs, throwing her hands up. "I know, I know."

Glenn notices me out the corner of his eye. He doesn't light up exactly, but the tension leaves his shoulders. "Oh. Hey, Harley."

"Hey." I give a little smile, holding out the basket. "Y'all want some fruit?"

"Ugh. Yes, please."

They each pick one out, leaving me with the apple. I toss the basket onto the nearby folding chair and bite into its waxy skin, the sugary juices leaking down my chin. It's sweet as candy. Well, from what I remember candy tastin' like, anyway. It's delicious.

Andrea seems to agree. "God. Remind me to always become stranded on a farm with an orchard."

Glenn bites a chunk out of his peach as he takes the screwdriver from the blonde, scooting around her to stand in front of the exposed engine. "Here. Let me have a go... Dale told me that in these old vehicles, the points get corroded."

I wipe my sticky chin, watching as he pokes around with the small tool.

Dale knew everything there was to know about this RV. Whenever it broke down, he didn't even need to check beneath the hood before he knew exactly what was wrong with it. Hell, even I've picked up on its quirks by now, and I know jack about vehicles. There's all sorts of screws and bolts and duck tape crammed into the poor thing's inner workings, but it just refuses to die. Like a stubborn old mule.

A bit like Dale. No matter how many times ya put that old man down, he'd come back ten times stronger.

"I let him down," Glenn suddenly sighs, and it's easy to know who he's talking about.

I glance over his shoulder, through the front windshield. Dale's ridiculous amount of souvenir air fresheners still hang from the mirror. Oklahoma. Illinois. Missouri. Kansas. That ain't even half of 'em. We used to tease him about them, but he always just laughed us off and recited some philosophical quote from a dead guy about how memories feed the soul, or whatever.

Nobody ever understood it when he said stuff like that, but I still know we all miss it.

"He was proud of you," Andrea tells him; then me, "Both of you."

I sheepishly look away, picking at the stem of my apple. No, he weren't. But that's nice of her to say.

"That's easy for you to say." Glenn shakes his head. "You had his back."

She doesn't know what to say for a moment.

"Well... All I know is that there's no way he didn't know how much we all cared for him, even in the end. He was too smart for that."

I got no doubts about that. He knew everything. Knew everything about the RV, about poetry, about us. He was just one of them types of people. I only wish I hadn't argued with him that day, but I argue with Dad all the time, and he still loves me. So, can't all be bad.

Glenn pulls back from the engine with a resolute, "Welp... That should do it."

When Andrea climbs inside and twists the key into the ignition, I'm proven right. This old RV just refuses to die.

"Well done, Glenn," I smile over the noise of the engine. "You did it."

He turns to me with a smile of his own, looking proud of himself.

After that, he and Dad leave the farm to search for a hearing aid.

Maggie hands them a list of houses they can try their luck in, and then we exchange the usual goodbye hugs and kisses before waving them off. There ain't no use in sitting around, wondering if they're going to get bitten and die because of me, so I leave to find something I can distract myself with instead. Luckily, Rick and T-Dog are more than happy to let me help them out with the fences.

If we're gonna get serious about staying here at the farm, we're gonna have to make some upgrades.

I obidiently tail them as they work, lugging around a bucket filled with rusty nails to pass to them.

"You know, Harley," Rick grunts as he hammers a scrap of metal to the wooden posts, "Carl still ain't stopped chewin' my ear off about all those things you taught him the other day. If I have to hear the word 'mushroom' one more time... I'll go crazy."

I pluck a nail from the pile and hand it to T-Dog.

Just to be annoying, I say, "Mushroom, mushroom, mushroom."

"Hey. Watch it." He scolds me, but not very well. He's smiling. "Anyway. You two ain't on good terms right now, are you?"

I raise a brow. "How'd ya know?"

"Well, I figured you'd be playin' with him right now if you were. And to be honest, he's been in a bit of a mood lately."

I huff a little, silently cursing Rick's parents for making him like this. "We squabbled. That's all."

He hums thoughtfully.

"Whenever I argued with my sisters," T-Dog tells us, "They'd start messin' with me. They'd hide my Xbox controller. Eat my snacks."

Rick chuckles. "They sound nice."

"Yeah, you could say that," He chuckles along with him. "A real pair of peaches."

"Well, Carl ain't done any of that," I suppose, adjusting the bucket in my grasp, "But he did call me a stupid baby."

Rick turns to look at me. "What?"

"He snitched on me about the shed and called me a stupid baby. Then I told him I hated his guts."

As I stand there, he fixes at me with a funny, What am I going to do with you?, sort of look, until he returns his attention to the work at hand. "Well, he was right to 'snitch' on you, but I'll have a talk with him when I can. It's not okay to name-call."

"I think it's 'cause he's gonna be a brother soon." I think aloud. "He said he's gotta protect me."

T-Dog argues, "You got all of us here to protect you. Boy's got nothing to stress about."

"I know. He just likes bein' somebody's keeper."

Hammering the last nail into the metal, Rick gives the thing a bit of a shake to test its strength, pleased to see it won't budge.

"Okay, I think this one's good." He decides. "Let's move onto the next one."

As we gradually make our way down the fence line, we continue chatting away about other useless things. The weather, future plans for the farm. Something we don't talk about, though, is the baby inside Lori's belly. I don't think Rick wants to think about it, let alone talk about it. He must be mulling over all the hundreds of things that could go wrong. As the leader, that's his special talent.

By the time we reach the area around the barn, I'm not listening to the conversation anymore. It's difficult to concentrate on making out their voices for such a long time, so I just tune myself out, absentmindedly gazing past the two of them, into the field.

That's when I notice something off about the burning pile.

It's still sitting there, a boring bunch of wood and junk, but the problem is I can't seem to spot Jim's body on it.

I know they didn't move it to some other place, and it's definitely not been lit on fire yet, so it can't be that.

When Rick holds out his hand for me to pass him another nail, I leave him hanging. He frowns down at me in concern; confusion. I think he says my name, but then he follows my gaze, followed suit by T-Dog. I can tell the exact moment they catch on.

"Okay," T-Dog levels with nobody in particular, holding up his hands, "That's creepy as shit."

"Stay here," Rick wearily tells us, before jogging away to investigate.

I don't need to be told twice. Clutching the bucket to my stomach like it's a teddy bear, I huddle closer to T, letting him step in front of me as if a chupacabra is gonna pop out from under the debris and gobble us all up. We watch Rick approach the burn pile, creeping up on it, concerned he might wake it up. He peeps this way and that, the hammer held tight in his grasp, ready to strike.

Was Jim bit, I find myself wondering, Was he bit, and we just didn't notice?

No. No, that can't be right. If he was bit, he would've turned long before we had the chance to hang him.

Rick flinches backward. He gawks at his own two feet. I think he might've crossed paths with a snake, or even that chupacabra, but then a hand shoots out from behind the burn pile and we learn the thing tryna bite him ain't an animal. It's got black hair and a grubby red shirt, a pair of milky eyeballs. It's Jim. He crawls after Rick like he's tryna avenge his own death, his neck still swollen and wrong.

Once he's absorbed his own shock, Rick brings the hammer down on Jim's skull, but he's fresh, so it's not mushy like it is usually. He has to bludgeon him two, three, four more times before the bone cracks open like an egg, wet brains dribbling down his face.

We all catch our breaths. I don't think any of us were prepared to watch Jim die twice today.

"Where was the bite?" T-Dog calls out, sounding like he's about to barf all over himself.

Rick kneels to check under Jim's shirt, flip him over, roll up his pant legs, because of course he does. There has to be a bite.

But when he stands, he calls back, "I can't see one."

There's a gaping pause between us all.

"Well, it ain't on his ass cheek, is it?"

Rick raises a brow as he steps over the body. "You wanna go check, be my guest."

"Nah, thank you, man." He answers drily, eyeing the blood dripping from the head of the hammer. "Well, what the Hell happened?"

Instead of telling us he doesn't know, or offering up a theory, Rick just sighs. He tosses the hammer into the little wagon we've been pulling along with us, rubbing at the faint wrinkles on his forehead. I remain hiding behind T-Dog. I know there's no snake or chupacabra to be heard of, and now, not even a Jim. But I don't like the danger in the air. The danger of something being wrong and not knowing what it is.

Rick lowers his hand, gaze landing on me. He keeps it there for a moment.

To be a walker, you gotta get bit. I can't see one. Everyone knows that.

"Come on," He eventually mutters, reaching to take the heavy bucket from me. "Let's get back to the house."

"Rick, what's wrong?" I whine as he grabs my hand. "We ain't workin' on the fence no more? Why?"

T-Dog snatches up the handle of the wagon and hurries after us.

"Don't worry about it, honey," He soothes, giving my fingers a squeeze. "The grownups will handle it, okay?"

Rick says this, just like he always has, but all he does when we get back to camp is eat lunch and talk to Maggie about our progress on the fence. I decide it's not a big deal. I trust him. Maybe he's just waiting until me and Carl aren't around to talk with the other adults about it. Maybe Jim did somehow get bit while he was in the shed. Maybe it really was on his ass cheek. I won't pretend to know.

In any case, I dig into my scrambled eggs and buttered bread without giving it much more thought.

After lunch, the three of us go back to working on the fence, anyway.

"Hope you enjoyed the apple."

With her forehead resting against the window, Beth gazes down at the farm, like some lonely angel peering down at another world. The afternoon sun gently contours the subtle curves of her girlish face, which isn't looking nearly as dreadfully pale as it did before.

"I did," She answers sweetly, smiling as I come to sit next to her on the thin cushions. "Thanks, by the way."

I give a shrug. "Yer sister says peach and pear season's just about up, so all we's got for a while is apples, anyway."

She surprises me by giggling at me, a pretty tinkling sound that suits her. "That shouldn't be a problem for you, right?"

My cheeks go warm. "Huh?"

"I saw you," She explains, a fondness in her eyes. "Chowin' down on that apple just before."

"When I was wit' Glenn and Andrea?"

She nods. "You were smiling. It was nice."

I contemplate calling her a stalker, but all that comes outta my mouth is an amused scoff, rolling my eyes and turning to look out the window. I understand why she likes it up here. I can see the whole farm. People milling about camp, chickens pecking at the ground. And off in the distance, the herd of black cows dotting the paddocks like little beetles, munching on bales of hay. And quiet. Precious quiet.

I glance at the distant treeline, thinking about the recent whispers of the horde. I brush it off quick as I can.

I steal a glance at Beth, instead.

That little smile is still pulling at her lips, a lively glint in the soft green of her eyes.

For some reason - mainly my talent for speaking without thinking - I ask her suddenly, "Do you still wanna die?"

She stiffens ever so slightly, and I only have a few short moments to feel awful about it before she meets my eyes.

"I just mean," I continue, wishing I ever knew the right thing to say. I think back to when Carl was in my exact position, asking nicely for me to not do what Beth did. He also threatened to smack me in the face, but I don't imagine that would go over too well with Beth. Neither would shouting at her like Dad. So, I just do something stupid, another one of my talents, and I improvise. "I been worried about you. Not, like, pity or nothin', but... I know how you feel. And after Dale... I realized that just 'cause people die, it don't mean I gotta die, too. It ain't a reason to wanna die. It's a reason to wanna live. 'Cause I'm just glad I ever knew Dale and Sophia and everyone else that died at all."

I feel encouraged by her glassy expression to keep talking. Not that I could stop myself if I tried.

"So that makes us lucky, y'know. Yer Momma's dead. My Momma's dead. But we loved 'em, and you can keep lovin' other people, but not if you're in a grave somewhere. Besides, it would just pass it on to them that would miss us. Not worth it, if ya ask me."

When I finish my word puke, she pins me with a tense, watery look that makes my insides cramp up.

"Maggie told me," She says, "That if I decided to keep living, that I'd find moments where I'd know I made the right decision."

She takes a deep breath, chuckling afterward.

"I think this is one of those moments," She decides.

"It is?"

I feel a weird sense of pride. I know me and my stupid apple and bad advice didn't singlehandedly solve anythin', but I was able to make her realize she don't got nothin' to regret by surviving her own mind, and that's more than enough for me.

I nod, trying not to smile, because this is supposed to be a serious moment. "Good. That's... good."

Her chuckles turn into laughter. "Why you so awkward all the darn time, Harley?"

Then I'm being wrapped up in a hug. I hate hugs. But this one ain't too terrible.

When we part, I ask her, "Are we friends?"

She seems to find that funny. "'Course."

"Well, my Dad and Glenn are gonna be gone for a few more hours," I tell her, "So, we should play something 'til then."

Beth warns me that she's seventeen years old, so she might not be able to play the same way me and Carl play, but that's okay. We don't have to play pretend or anything. We can do something she likes. Apparently, that's painting our nails. I have to try not to pull a face, but I guess I end up pulling one anyway, because she bursts into giggles and pulls me to my feet. I'm not the biggest fan of girly things. It's just not what I grew up with. I'm used to scuffing my nails while climbing trees and playing in the dirt, not painting them. But I'll give it a go.

"What's your favorite color?" She asks me, setting me down on her bed and rummaging through her desk.

"Yellow," I chirp.

"Actually," She lilts, pulling out a little bottle of yellow polish, squinting at the label. "It's Electric Spring Citrus."

I scoot over to make room for her on the bed, presenting my nails to her.

The afternoon slips away easily after that.

Nighttime paints over the orange sky.

Me and Beth have migrated downstairs by the time the sun has disappeared beneath the farm, lured in by the domestic commotion of dinner being prepared. It's soup again. I recognise the smell by now. While we wait to be served by Maggie and Patricia, the rest of us gather around the coffee table, ribbing each other as we break the rules of a card game Jacqui suggests. Carl keeps cheating by lying about what cards he has, but he's too dumb to realize he'll have to show them to us at some point. I laugh hysterically when he loses.

"You weren't listenin' to the rules, was ya?" I enjoy taunting him as he goes red. "Typical!"

He complains, "Shut up, Harley!"

"Okay, okay," Lori placates, doing a very bad job of hiding her smile behind her fan of cards. "Settle down."

I almost don't think about Dad and Glenn or Dale or Sophia or Shane or Momma for the whole game. By my standards, that makes for a good time. Carl continues losing miserably, whining even more miserably-er, while Jacqui beats us over and over again.

I'm reminded of the night we had our first dinner together - The one where Patricia made everyone feel super uncomfortable, and then I almost died. It's hard to believe this is the same house and the same people. Probably because it's filled with laughter.

We continue playing even through dinner.

When I lose for the fifth time, I take my bowl of soup and retire to one of the sofas, settling in next to Rick and quietly sipping at the warm broth. He sends me a bit of a look as if to ask me if I'm okay, probably reading my face in that weird way he got, noticing I'm thinking about Dad and Glenn. I reply with a simple nod. He doesn't seem satisfied with that response, but he can't do nothin' about it.

It's too noisy in here for him to talk to me, and neither of us know a single lick of sign language.

So, he just gives me a thumbs up and hopes it gets the point across. They'll be okay.

Eventually, even Herschel gets roped into playing.

"Hey, I actually happen to know a thing or two about this," He tells us, before proceeding to eviscerate Jacqui at her own game.

We all go awww, as she throws down her cards.

"Darn..." She sighs. "You weren't lyin', old man."

"As Jesus as my witness," He holds up a hand, "I never lie."

Lori asks, "Where'd you learn to get this good?"

"I used to spend a lot of my time in bars, young lady." He explains. "I got more than enough practice finessing card games."

"Well, I'd say it paid off."

He raises his fluffy white brows. "They used to call me Great-Hand Greene back in the day, you know."

Everybody in the room can't help but laugh.

"Now, Daddy," Maggie exclaims, "That's a lie!"

Great-Hand Greene calmly enlightens her, "It surely isn't."

This is the moment headlights turn into the driveway. Everyone turns to look. My heart squeezes. Dad and Glenn. The two lights come to a sudden stop, watching us like two eyeballs through the dark. The sound of doors slamming. I place my bowl on the coffee table and hurry out of the lounge room, followed by some other footsteps. But when I reach the foyer, the door bursts open without my doing.

Dad first, then Glenn. Both of my lungs deflating in relief, and then both of them knotting right back up again.

"That horde's headed this way," Dad wastes no time in announcing, "And it ain't stopping for nothin'."

Everybody freezes. A horde? The horde? Headed our way? Right now?

Rick pushes past everyone. "You saw it?"

"Trust me, man." He jokes dryly, shaking his head. "You can't miss this thing anymore."

"There were hundreds of them," Glenn agrees, frantic. His hair is suckered to his forehead with sweat, even though the season's turned. "We were over by Mallory Road when we caught wind of them; got us stuck for a couple hours until we could slip past."

"Not that it matters now," Dad snides.

Maggie asks, "Were you able to get the hearin' aid?"

He gives a nod, but nobody's paying attention. "Bits and pieces."

"Patricia," Herschel orders, our card game long forgotten, "Kill the lights."

We follow Rick out onto the porch. The night welcomes us with a cold gust of wind. At first, I can't see much of anythin', but then the lights blink out one by one and my stomach drops into the floorboards. On the other side of the field, leaking out from between the trees, are bodies, bodies, and bodies, so many it's not worth trying to count. They make the group on the highway look like a couple of stragglers.

As the masses of feet stumble up the driveway, I'm hit with the feeling that our fences aren't going to save us.

"I'll get the guns." Andrea mutters, and I think that feeling has hit everyone else, too.

Rick runs off in the direction of the cars. It's where we've kept our bags of emergency supplies for a time like this. Does that mean we're gonna leave? Or are we gonna fight? Is it even possible? I didn't even get to finish my soup. That feels important, somehow.

"Maybe they're just passing." Somebody stupidly guesses. "Like that herd on the highway."

"Should we go back inside?"

"Not unless there's a tunnel downstairs I don't know about." Dad drawls, gazing out. "Horde this size will rip the house down."

I worry up at him, "Daddy, I don't want it to rip the house down."

He shushes me, putting a strong hand on the nape of my neck, squeezing reassuringly. I let it calm me. I feel a fool for panicking, but if there were ever a time to panic, it would be now. I cling to him as Andrea dumps the bag of guns on the floor. She passes them out to everyone that got two thumbs and a brain. Maggie, Glenn, Dad, Rick. Jimmy. Even Herschel. Nobody is being left out of this fight.

Not even me and Carl. A gun is pushed each of our hands. You know how to use it, I remind myself.

"This the plan, then?" Dad confirms with everyone, because it's crazy. "We take 'em all on?"

Andrea passes me a loaded mag. I don't have to count the bullets inside to know it's not enough.

"We have guns. We have cars."

"We kill as many as we can." She's on board. "We'll use the cars to lead the rest of them off the farm."

"The burn pile," Glenn adds, "There's a bunch of kerosine and matches down there. We could lure them into the barn, set it on fire."

Rick climbs back onto the porch. "Bags are all packed. If things start to get hairy, we can leave."

"We're not leaving." Herschel argues.

"Herschel—"

"This is my farm." His voice booms as he pumps a pair of fat bullets into his shotgun's chamber, fire in his eyes. "I'll die here."

"Alright." Dad lilts over the droning rumble of death incoming, looking around for objections. "It's as good a night as any."

I get herded into Maggie's car. Dad gives my face a kiss and slams the door shut. I bump the mag up into the chamber. I know how to use it. I do. Two more slams. Glenn at the wheel, Maggie in the passenger seat. I've shot two walkers before, when I was out in the woods with Shane. I just have to do it again. And after that, again and again until they're all gone. Glenn stomps on the gas. The car screeches forward, ripping through the grass, barrelling into the night. I don't even bother buckling myself in. That's not how I would die tonight.

"You got enough ammo back there, honey?" Maggie fusses, digging through the glovebox and throwing me a spare.

"Thanks." I catch the cardboard box, trying not to shiver as Glenn rolls down all the windows. Groans and wind flood the car.

He shouts, "Start shooting!"

Just like that, gunshots erupt from all possible angles.

I grip my pistol tight, aim it out the window. You're gonna hold it like this, Shane's voice tells me, Firm. Confident. You're the one in control, here. I'm in control. My home's bein' invaded by the dead, and a horde this size might rip the house down, but I'm in control. The car spins. I lurch. It's hard to aim like this, but I gotta try. I line my eye up with the wobbling sight. I breathe in and out.

I squeeze. BANG.

I can't even tell what I hit, or if I hit anything at all, but it don't matter. I squeeze again. BANG.

Glenn weaves us in and out, around, through the horde, never getting too close, never veering too far.

In the other car, T-Dog, Andrea, and Carl. They swerve around us, shooting down every dead bastard they can hit.

I squeeze. BANG.

BANG, and again, BANG, and again, BANG.

The jaw of a nearby walker explodes off its meaty hinges. It swings around. It trips. It slumps. I've killed it.

"How we doing back there, Harley?" Glenn calls out. "You okay?"

"I— I'm fine!" I shout back, pulling my body back into my seat to reload.

I peel open the box of ammo. A curse falls from my tongue when the little bullets go tumbling onto my feet, rolling under the seats. I quickly snatch them up, shoving them into the mag. On the other side of the car door, fireworks of gunpowder and bullets, squealing tires and breaking bones, a blazing Hellfire lighting up the sky. Orange and roaring. I notice it, then. Dad. Rick. That must be them. They've set the barn on fire. It's cracking and falling to pieces, a burning church. The walkers fight to get inside like it's the last Sunday on Earth.

An important beam succumbs to the flames, snapping in half like a broken twig, bringing the rest down with it.

I hear wood breaking, and then there are chickens running lose across the field, screaming, flapping.

I squeeze and I squeeze and I squeeze. BANG.

A rotten old man crumples to the ground. BANG.

A lady's shoulder bursts open, a pop of bone and muscle. BANG.

A girl with one of the poor birds in her mouth, choking on feathers, dead. BANG.

For every one we kill, five more are there within a heartbeat to replace it. Glenn's foot falters on the pedal, and we come to a crawl, and then a stop, unable to do much but watch as the farm is consumed. This is a losing battle. There's no other type.

Herschel said we weren't leaving tonight, but that can't be true. I guess he is a liar, after all.

"We gotta go," Maggie's shaking her head, the tears in her eyes collecting like little pearls. "We're not gonna win this. We gotta go."

As if only to prove her point, the barn collapses once and for all. I almost feel like crying.

"I'm sorry, Maggie." Glenn says weakly.

Yeah. Me, too. I gaze out at the oak tree, still standing bravely; the little wooden crosses clueless beneath it.

As Glenn drives us back into the chaos, my pistol stays in my lap. I don't got any bullets left, anyway. I just sit there, watching everything pan by. Mine and Dad's camping spot, tucked away in the distant trees, just how we liked it. The crumbled fireplace where I talked to Dale for the last time. The shed. The swing outside it me and Carl used to play on. The orchard. The patch of dirt where Sophia died.

I wish I had the power to know when things were gonna end. That way, I could've savoured my last day.

It's not as cool as the superpower's them people in Carl's comics got, but it's the one I'd want.

It was silly. Working on the fences today with Rick and T-Dog made me think we were gonna be okay.

When I look up, we're approaching the house. Jacqui's sitting on the porch steps all by herself, staring out at us.

Glenn pulls us in close, getting out and hovering around the hood of the car, waving her over. "Come on! We gotta go!"

I crawl across the seats and shove open the door. "Jacqui? Come on!"

She's not coming. Why is she not coming? The door is open. We can all leave together. When I call out her name again, she convulses ever so slightly, as if she's got a bad cough but doesn't wanna let it out. I feel my face fall all at once. Her arm gives out, slumping from her neck, into her lap. I notice the blood first, all ten gallons of it, and then the bite. Her muscles spasm again. Oh. No, no, no.

"Jacqui?" I call out uselessly, but Glenn's already back in the driver's seat and Jacqui's already dying.

"C-Close your door, Harley," He orders, slamming his own.

She's dying. We can't stay here. I know both these things, but it still takes everything in me to pull the door shut.

After that, the deaths just keep coming. We drive past Patricia as the horde pull her into their mouths, Jimmy as he stumbles from the RV, clutching at his open throat. There's nothing we can do for any of them, but we manage to reach Carol just in time. She climbs into the seat next to me, and we ask her if she's seen anybody else, but she hasn't; she hasn't seen anybody.

Turning my face to the open window, I let the wind dry my tears, seein' as my Daddy ain't here to do it for me.

The faces of the horde pass by, a sea of rats on a burning ship.

I want to go collect my things. I want to pet the cows one last time. I want to do everything we won't get to.

My body lurches all on its own, then.

A face in the crowd. It's different from the rest. I'm not good with faces or names, something my teachers used to grumble over, but I'm good with this one. That one walker, tucked in with the rest of them, wearing the Police cap. It's Shane Walsh, dead and walking.

How? How is that possible? Why are the tears back tenfold, now?

Lit by the moon and the flames, I see his broken cheekbones for the first time since that day, the way they're bulbous like apples, mishappen like clay. Everything about him is wrong. His nose is broke. Clothes all mussed up. Ribs pouring. His eyes are glossed over. He don't seem to mind his broken body, or the fire, or the smoke. He just wants what all other walkers want. To bite into something. It's him, but not.

I almost want him to look at me. I clutch my locket, wanting our eyes to meet just to make him prove it.

This just can't be true. He didn't get bit. He got shot and beaten, but he didn't get bit.

As if I've willed him to do it, he looks my way.

"Carol," I croak, watching as he noses at the air like the animal Dad always said he was, "You got any bullets left?"

I feel something being placed in my hand. It feels just like the locket, but colder. I shakily load it into the chamber; lift the gun. I believe in you, His voice is back. Now line your eye up with the sight. I stare down the barrel, carefully placing his face on top of the sights. I only have this one bullet. I can't miss. Not only because I need to put him down, but because I think I want to make him proud.

Breathe, I take a deep breath, In and out.

Damn it. These fuckin' tears, they're messing up my aim. I smack them away and line up my shot again.

And squeeze.

BANG.

All the air rushes outta my lungs as his body hits the ground, disappearing amongst the horde.

I lower the gun.

Carol's already looking at me before I glance her way.

When we peel onto the highway, I can still see the flames burning over the tops of the trees, like some old religious painting.

Maggie breaks the silence. "What if nobody else made it?"

Nobody answers. I preferred it when the only noise in the car was the gentle humming of the engine, but I can't blame her for asking. We got no idea who else made it out alive. The four of us are all alone out here. Ain't no phone number we can just dial to ask if they're alright.

"They made it," Glenn eventually just decides, staring out at his high beams on the dark road. "They had to."

"Well, how are we going to find them?" Carol asks innocently, petting my hair as I lay my head in her lap. "They could be anywhere."

Maggie sighs. "We could circle back to that place I found y'all on the highway?"

"No," Mumbles Glenn. I can see his finger tapping against the wheel. "No, the horde came from that direction."

That's where our ideas run dry.

"Glenn?" I whine, clutching at my temple. He glances at me in the mirror, concern in his eyes. "My head. The ringing. Hurts."

He makes a troubled sound. "It must've been all those gunshots... I'm sorry."

Carol suggests, "Maybe we should just stop somewhere for the night."

There's a pause between them, but it's a short one, because it doesn't take much for Glenn to agree. He's musing to himself about how we can't drive all night. It would be a better use of gas to drive in the daylight. But really, we all know it's because he's a big softie.

He pulls us into a little nook on the side of the highway, killing the engine and turning on the ceiling light.

"I'm sorry," He says again, as if he put the ringing inside my head himself. "Maybe there's something in the supplies?"

Maggie unzippers the bag at her feet, pushing around the stuff inside it, shaking her head. "Just some water. Thirsty?"

I shake my head.

"I think we should all get some sleep." Says Carol, her voice a whisper.

Yeah. A good sleep sounds really good right about now. I think we've earnt it. Georgia will still be here when we wake up.

"Okay." He reaches up to press the ceiling button that turns on the moon, its dim white light spilling across the console in the dark. We all loosen slightly, completely exhausted. "We can just pick up again tomorrow. I'm sure the others are doing the same thing."

"Goodnight," Maggie tries to smile, reaching around her seat to stroke my shoulder.

"Goodnight," I mumble, echoed by Glenn and Carol, and then it's silent.

I close my eyes.

No eggs and buttered bread for breakfast today. Just a stale granola bar I gotta split with Carol, and a sip of water I gotta split with all three of them. After we take turns peein' in the bushes outside, we're back on the road again, and we're on it all day.

I don't know where we're going. I don't think Glenn knows, either.

I'm starting to think we might be driving all night, too, by the time we run into the others. That's right, the others. Herschel's shitty old pick-up truck is parked in a swath of brown leaves on the side of the road, right next to Dad's truck and bike, and another grey car.

When Glenn pulls on the brake, I think we're all crying happy tears, but I'm too busy crying happy tears to notice.

I climb out, grinning, running into my Dad's arms.

"Harley," He sighs in relief as he picks me up, squeezes me tight. "I knew they'd take good care of ya."

"I knew you'd take good care of you," I giggle, hooking my chin over his shoulder.

"How did you guys find each other?" Glenn marvels.

"Well, when I saw their little Toyota goin' the speed limit," He nods behind him, "Figured there just had to be a cop at the wheel."

As chuckles break out between the group, he places me back on the ground.

Maggie asks, "Where's the rest of us?"

"We're the only ones that made it so far," Rick answers, and it's now I notice just how much smaller we are now; barely ten. We're just as alone as we were when it was just me, Glenn, Maggie, and Carol. No shelter, no food, no direction. Feathers in the wind.

"Where's Andrea?"

Lori shakes her head. "She was with us at the farm, but we got separated."

"Did you see Jacqui?"

Jacqui. Poor Jacqui. Maggie, Glenn, and I share a look without even meaning to.

"It was awful, Dad," I mutter, the memory caught in my throat, "We found 'er by the house, but we had to leave her behind."

Glenn explains, "She was bit."

"They got Patricia, too." Beth says. "Took her right in front of me. I was holdin' onto her, Daddy, but they just..."

"We saw Jimmy, too." Maggie sighs as Herschel wraps her little sister in a hug. "He was in the RV. It got overrun."

"But, you guys definitely saw Andrea?"

"There— There were walkers everywhere," Lori seems sorry to say, "But, yeah. We saw her."

"Well, we have to go back for her."

Rick argues, "We don't even know if she's still there."

"She ain't." Dad butts in. "She's either somewhere else or she's dead."

"So, we're not even gonna look for her?"

"No. We gotta keep moving." Rick agrees. "There's walkers all over the place."

Maggie scoffs, "That's an understatement if I ever heard one."

"I say we head East." Dad suggests, pointing vaguely in the direction of the sinking sun, cresting through the fog. "Head East, and stay off any main roads like this one. Bigger the road, the more walkers we gon' run into. The more assholes like this one."

He lifts his hands from where he's been resting them on my back, swinging the crossbow off his shoulder.

"I got him." He grumbles, sending a bolt through the stray walker's nose.

"Well, I hate to tell you guys," T-Dog scratches at his head, "But we been riding red for the past hour."

"We can't all fit into two cars."

Rick decides, "We'll have to make a run for some gas in the morning."

"Spend the night here?" Beth hisses, shivering lightly. "I'm freezin'."

"We'll build a fire." He gestures at my Dad. "You can go out lookin' for firewood, but stay close."

He raises a greasy brow. "I only got so many arrows, man. We can't just sit here with our asses hangin' out."

"Watch your mouth," He snips.

Glenn raises his hands at the group. "Everyone just stop panicking, and listen to Rick."

"Look, Glenn and I can go make a run right now," Maggie placates, "Try and scrounge up some gas so we can get back on the road."

"No." He shuts her down. "We stay together. God forbid something happens and people get stranded without a car."

That other side of Rick is back - Someone I might as well start callin' Second Rick; Scary Rick - and everyone can tell. It's the same one that was outside the shed, telling us with no room for argument that he was going to execute Jim. He's tense. He's a rubber band pulled tight, his eyes darting from face to face, just waiting for a flash of disagreement from somebody for him to pounce on.

I make sure he don't find one on my face. I'm not keen on upsettin' him.

Glenn's a little braver than me, though, because he says incredulously, "Rick, we're stranded now."

He shakes his head. Not listening. Not accepting it. Just, No, no, no.

"I know it looks bad," He reasons, even though we don't need to be told. "We've all been through Hell and worse. But we found each other. I wasn't sure. I really wasn't, but..." He scans our faces again, a little less coldly this time, taking us all in. "But we did it. We're together, and that's all that matters. We'll find shelter someplace. It's gotta be out there somewhere. It's gotta be."

But we had shelter already, I feel like shouting at him, I don't want another one.

"Rick, look around, okay?" Glenn's voice raises. "There's walkers everywhere. They're— They're migrating or something."

"There's gotta be a place not just where we hole up," Rick doubles down without care for what he's saying, smacking his knuckles into his palm. "But that we can fortify. Hunker down. Pull something together for ourselves. Build a life for each other."

That's what we tried to do at the farm. He should know that. He was the one fixing the fences with me.

"I know it's out there," He says angrily, as if that place he's talkin' about is hiding just to spite him. "We just have to find it."

I muster up the courage to voice my thoughts.

"But, Rick," I say, "How many those places we already been?"

He shakes his head again. "We fooled ourselves into thinking they were safe. We won't make that mistake again."

At the quarry, our mistake was being too close to the city. That was way back in the beginning when nobody had died yet, and we thought we just had to wait it out until the army came. But they didn't. And after that, our second mistake was trusting Jenner. We wanted answers, but we almost lost everything trying to get 'em. Then, the farm. I guess that was a mistake, too, now. You never know 'til after.

I don't say anything to that. It's cold, and I'm hungry, and I don't want to argue any more.

He's pleased with my silence. "Okay... We make camp tonight here; get back on the road at the break of day."

Carol murmurs something.

Whatever it was, Beth agrees with her. "What if walkers come through, or another group like Jim's?"

"Speaking of Jim," T-Dog fixes Rick with a look. "We ever gonna talk about him?"

Lori's confused. "What do you mean? What could possibly be left to talk about?"

"We saw him turn," He's happy to reveal to everyone. "Thing is, though, he wasn't bit."

"How is that possible?"

"Shane, too." I blurt. "I— I saw him when the farm went down."

Lori turns her gawking expression onto her husband. "What the Hell is going on?"

He's not looking at any of us. He's glaring at some ordinary pebble on the ground, brooding, hesitating.

Then, "We're all infected."

What?

It's so vague and profound that nobody knows what to make of it.

My Dad does us all a favor and squints at him. "How you mean?"

"At the CDC," He confesses, his voice a hoarse whisper that I can only just make out, "Jenner told me. Whatever it is, we all carry it."

We all carry—? The germs that make the dead ones come back? We all carry them?

He's been lyin' to us this whole time. The CDC, that was months ago.

Sometimes, lying ain't just sayin' something. It's not sayin' something. Daddy taught me that the night I told him I'd had a good day at school, and then come dinnertime, I let it slip that Ethan, the boy that sat behind me in class, had actually punched me in the belly that day at lunch. He got so mad. He ripped off my shirt. There was a purple blotch on my pale skin. Then he taught me how to punch boys back.

That's what Rick's done. He's hidden a purple blotch from us, and now we should be angry.

Carol steps forward, her silver brows pinched. "And you never said anything?"

I consider my body. I don't feel sick. Not like I did when we thought I was bitten.

Rick lamely asks, "Would it have made a difference?"

Yes, I think, but he already knows that.

Glenn accuses him, "You knew. You knew this whole time."

So, that's why Jim and Shane woke back up. You don't gotta get bit. You just gotta die and come back with enough to be able to bite.

That means even if you jumped off a bridge and all your bones were broken and you died, you would still come back.

My—

My Momma would'a still come back.

"How could I have known for sure, huh? Until we found Jim, I had no proof Jenner was even tellin' the truth. You saw how crazy that mother f—"

Glenn cuts him off. "That is not your call. Okay?"

"When Daryl found out about the walkers in the barn," Lori adds, "He told everyone as soon as he had the chance."

Rick don't care. "Well... I thought it best if people didn't know."

Glenn and Dad look right at me. Like they've both thought the same thing I have. They're the only ones here that know what happened to my Momma. I remember telling Glenn about it at the CDC. Momma. We were outta the city when it happened. It was the night the world ended twice. First when we got the call, and again when our neighbours tried to eat us. It's a lot of people's worst ever night. It's mine.

I won't ever know for sure, but I'd be kidding myself if I thought the rules didn't apply to my Momma.

At least we know that if any of us were to die, the others would make sure we didn't turn. Survivor's honor, or whatever it's called.

The silence goes on for so long that he just gives us one last look over, turns, and walks away. Nobody cares where.

Dad crouches; looks up at me. "You okay, baby?"

"Yeah," My voice wobbles, but I'm telling the truth. "I just... Don't wanna think about it."

Glenn clears his throat. "Well, it looks like we don't have much of a choice about this. We need to set up camp."

As everyone slowly breaks off to do their part, Dad takes my hand and leads me over to his motorcycle. "Got somethin' for ya."

Oh, right. The hearing aid; bits and pieces.

I'd almost forgotten.

"I hope it ain't complicated," I tell him, fiddling with my craggled ear. "Maggie said Herschel don't know about this stuff."

"We'll figure it out." He promises, before squeezing my hand and letting it go. "I ain't even sure if they work."

He opens the saddlebag, taking out a wrinkled plastic bag. He reaches in and pulls out what looks like an unusually shaped piece of skin-colored plastic with a rubber bulb on the end. And two other hearing aids, one brown and one purple, the type I'd recognise.

He stuffs the bag away and tucks some hair behind my good ear, making room to stick the first one in.

"I think it goes like that." He leans in closer, messing around with something on the back of it. "How do I—...?"

Something clicks.

All of a sudden, there are birds in the trees.

My eyes go wide, jaw dropping, gawking out at the forest like I've never seen one before.

A grin sneaks its way onto my face.

"The birds," I muse quietly, taking in the sounds of their distant chirps. "I can hear 'em, Dad."

It's not perfect. It's not as crisp as it was before. I think the batteries are low. But I don't care. It's still one of my favorite sounds.

He's smiling faintly up at me. "Good."

"Dad, your voice!"

"My voice?"

"I forgot what it's s'posed to sound like," I giggle. "It's so loud. And annoying."

He snorts, giving my butt a smack for being silly. "Well now when ya tire of my naggin', you can just pull that thing out."

As quickly as it had come to life, it makes a crackling noise, a sudden beep, and then there are no more birds.

I pluck the aid out my ear, giving it a bittersweet look. It didn't last forever, but it was nice while it did.

He mumbles something; then, louder, "We'll find some more batteries soon. Sorry, baby."

"Don't be sorry." I say. "It was perfect."

After packing them back into the saddlebag, we leave to collect firewood together. I imagine the sounds of the birds around us.

Night comes. We can't stop it.

I pretend we're camping.

We're not stranded. No, we just decided to go on a camping trip together because we thought it would be fun. That's why we're all huddled around a campfire in the dark, instead of sleeping in our beds at the farm. I'm curled up against Dad's stomach, which is better than a bed, I think. Beth's cuddled into her Dad's side, too, staring into the flames while Maggie and Glenn whisper to each other beside them.

I wish we had a deck of cards. I wish any of us would wanna play.

We got nothing but a wall of stone to protect us from the forest on the other side, but I pretend that away, too.

I just focus on the sound of an owl hooting somewhere off in the trees. I bet it ain't scared. Owls; they know the night.

Tomorrow, we're gonna have cheap steak and ketchup for breakfast, and then Merle's gonna let me sit on his shoulders just like always.

"We're not safe with him," Carol suddenly mutters, and that's not something I can pretend away. I'm back here, now, and we're stranded. No steak. No ketchup. No Merle. "Keeping something like that from us. Why do we need him? He's just gonna pull us all down."

Maybe I don't wanna be camping, anyway. It's good enough right here, surrounded by the people I care about.

"Nah." Dad's voice is a rumble in my lower back. "Rick's done alright by me and mine."

I cuddle further into him, shuddering lightly as he rubs my cold arms. His leather vest don't make a great blanket.

"You're his henchman." She reminds him. "And I'm a burden."

He scoffs. "And Harley?"

"You both deserve better," She says softly, her face pensive in the orange light.

It don't matter what we deserve, I told Shane when he said the same thing.

Unamused, Dad pries, "What do you want?"

"A man of honor."

"Rick has honor."

They leave it at that. I think they wish we had a deck of cards, too.

The owl hoots again.

Then, a branch breaks.

CRACK.

I straighten.

"What was that?" Beth murmurs worriedly. "Was it a walker?"

We all stare off into the dark, ready to fight whatever might come out of it.

"Could be anythin'," Dad mumbles as he stands, readying his bow. "Could be a racoon. Could be a possum. Could be the Easter bunny."

Carol hugs herself. "We need to leave. I mean, what are we waiting for?"

"Which way?" Glenn asks.

Maggie points at the thin trees behind T-Dog. "It came from over there."

"That's back from where we came."

"Yeah."

"The last thing we need is for everyone to be running off in the dark." Rick scolds us, reminding us he's here. The light from the fire washes him in flame, the dried blood on his forehead glistening with sweat. "We don't have the vehicles. No one's travelling on foot."

"Don't panic," Herschel soothes us all calmly, still clutching his shotgun.

Maggie argues, "I'm— I'm not sittin' here, waitin' for another herd to blow through. We need to move. Now."

"No one is goin' anywhere," Rick snarls.

"Do something!"

"I am doin' somethin'!" He retorts. If he really was that rubber band, this is the part where he would snap in two. "I am keepin' this group together. Alive! I've been doing that all along, no matter what. I didn't ask for this. I shot my best friend for you people, for Christ's sakes! For you Daryl, and you, Harley. I was the one that took care of Jim. Me! Everything! Everything has been on me!"

I know I said we were supposed to be angry with him. But, actually, I think we're just scared.

Lori's holding Carl's head to her chest. Dad stands in front of me, as if he doesn't want me to see. T-Dog, Glenn, Maggie; all with their mouths sealed shut, not sure where to look, or what to say. Is this really the same Rick that comforted me at dinner?

"Maybe you people are better off without me." He shrugs, taunting us. "Sure. Go ahead."

I've never had to be a leader before. I did have to kill Shane, but Rick's done so much more for us. I'm not better off without him.

"I say there's a place for us out there, but maybe—" He's just rambling, now. "Maybe it's just another pipe dream. Maybe I'm— Maybe I'm fooling myself again. I'm just as much a sucker as Shane was. But, hey, why don't you go find out yourself?"

He sweeps his hand behind him, presenting us with the forest.

"Huh? Send me a postcard."

I can't hear the owl anymore. I think it flew away.

"Go on. There's the door. You think you can do better? Let's see how far you get."

I pull the leather of Dad's vest up to my face, shyly peeping over the top of it; breathing shakily. I don't want to see how far I can get. I want to stay right here with my people, whether we're starving or not; freezing or not. I think everyone else does, too.

Or at the very least, they want to stay here where there's a warm fire and guns.

"No takers?" He lilts. "Fine. But get one thing straight. If you're staying—"

He pins every single one of us with a look.

"— This isn't a democracy, anymore."

That word Dale used. The one that means things is fair.

Then he sits right back down where he was before, like he didn't just threaten to abandon us all.

Slowly, everyone else sits back down too, because there's nothing else to do. We all heard him. We can't leave. When Dad settles in behind me again, I squirrel into his chest, his arms wrapping around me. There's no sound except for the branches crackling in the fire and the heartbeat beneath his shirt. I don't know where we go from here. But I do know Dad will keep me safe, and Rick will keep the group safe. He's worked himself raw and bloody to make sure we survive. The fish fry, the CDC, the highway, Shane, the fall of the farm. All of it.

We didn't survive all that bullshit just to fall apart now. There's still something out there for us.

We just have to find it.

Author's Notes.

I sincerely hope you enjoyed 😊

I'm sad to see the farm go, but we had a nice time while we were there.

Please leave a comment! I'm anxious to hear from you all after so long :)

#the walking dead #twd fanfiction #fanfic #daryl dixon #daryl dixon daughter #twd #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #angst #rick grimes #reader #original character #daryl dixon x reader #twd daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl twd

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jaybirddragon06 · 1 year

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Me made a LMK AU

So a few months back, I and my friend made an LMK Swapped role AU. However, my friend gave me full ownership of the AU due to who is more active on the internet. However, I still wish to credit him since his genius brain came up the AU (I dunno if they have a Tumblr account TwT). Anyways, the roles that are swapped aren't too drastic. We tried keeping them in groups of who to swap who with who to a certain extent. For example, we switched the roles of the traffic light trio among the three.

Some of the lore kinda is still a work in progress since I wanna add Spicynoodles into the au without making it incest. (If you hadn't guessed, MK has Redson's role in this AU). This AU is a little different because the roles have been swapped, not the characters. To further explain this, the JTTW still has the same characters and none of them are swapped. It's actually something one of the JTTW gang characters did that caused everyone's role to be switched. If you'd like to hear more about the characters, just like this post!

I should also mention that I figured I wouldn't have much motivation to completely draw every little thing without getting burnt out, so I made a fanfic about the AU on AO3 called "Twisted Fates" which is what the AU is called because everyone's fate has a sort of twist compared to their original fate. The link is below!

It currently only has two chapters (which was supposed to be one because it's the prologue but I add to much detail), but I do plan to post more about the AU here and maybe on Instagram. I hope YOu enjoy it as much as I do!

I do plan to have the following ships in the fanfic:

Spicynoodles (MK x Redson)

Freenoodles (Pigsy x Tang)

Silktea (Sandy x Huntsman)

I want to add Shadowpeach to the AU mainly because I'm a sucker for enemies to lovers, but I don't want that to throw off Macaque and Wukong characters completely I don't want the entire relationship to mainly be angst but it's gonna be fun tweaking some characters and their relationships with others. But have no fear! We will have Dad Pigsy and Son MK moments!

I also feel like this should be stated because I know a few people will most likely bring it up, but Mei and Redson will be siblings in this book. I don't hate Dragonfruit nor' do I think the ship would never work in the show, and no, I don't hate it because it's a straight ship, I just see Redson and Mei acting more like siblings!

And because I can, I'm adding Spindrax to this book! She only has one Lego set and I'm still a little sour she was never added to the TV show or even mentioned, but I shall respect the director's choices. But that isn't gonna stop me from making her a little gremlin who just loves to tease her siblings and Queen. I'll be doing more on her once I have her character design done. But the first character I plan to upload about is the Traffic light trio! Mei will be first since she takes MK's place in this AU!

#lego monkey kid season 4 #Lego Monkey kid #mei lmk #mk lmk #redson lmk #LMK AU #lego monkie kid au #Spicynoodles #Silktea #monkie kid freenoodles #lmk spindrax

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khaleesiofalicante · 11 months

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Okay I have two thoughts that I can't get out of my head, and since AO3 isn't working properly and I can't read the chapters I'll bother you with them

It just occurred to me last night that Max and David have grown up together in LBAF? I mean, obviously I've know but it just hit me last night that they've been together for their whole lives? Like, I can't double check because ao3 is down but I think they've been raised together since they were like, 10?( I'm not sure about the age again very sorry if I'm wrong) But there's probably pictures of them through out their lives. And they're always together. I mean, they trained together, they ate, they even slept together if I remember correctly(I mean, in the same bed). These two have been practically married since they were kids. And now they're 42, I think? 32 years when they were constantly together (give or take a year, what with David's travel year and the deaths and the kidnappings). I mean, don't get me wrong I love them in every fanfic but in LBAF and TLND they were always together and that makes me really emotional🥹 I can just see Magnus and Alec babysitting Lance and Arthur and telling them stories, along with Jace of course, about their parents, when they were 12 and 20 and showing them pictures and oh god I'm gonna cry. First thing I'll do when ao3 is back is read LBAF I,II and III, I really miss fetus Mavid

Okay this makes me laugh every time I think about it, but remember in IALS, there was this chapter where Max was distant from David because he was punishing himself and David thought that Max didn't want him anymore? So he tried to seduce him? And then you posted Max's POV in tumblr and Max was just freaking out because he couldn't understand why David was acting weird around him meanwhile David was trying so hard to bring Max back to him? And what made Max almost crack and kiss David and be with him was a tired David with Arthur's vomit over him because it made him realize that him and David have a family together and David chose to marry and love and have a family with him and he was almost turned on by that and he told David he was cute and David thought Max was making fun of him? These two be clowning all day every day😂 But it also kinda makes me soft because earlier in that chapter David wasn't wearing a shirt and was sleeping on the bed and Max saw him and got so turned on he had to touch himself but David woke up and heard him and then looked himself in the mirror and then looked at his back and thought of course he doesn't want me when I look like this. Oh David if only you knew... I've always been curious, exactly how relieved Max was when he realised David was still obsessed with him and there wasn't a third person or anything?

I need to stop thinking about these two all the time😂 Also, I kinda got mixed up about Theia and Lance, Blackbane does sounds better, sorry about that😅Have a good dayyy🌷

They did meet when they were ten 🥺 and they did grow up together 😭. This is one of the reasons David was devasted when he lost his memories because he lost his whole life with Max. I think he mentions it somewhere (in some fic?) that his life started after he met Max. So, poor baby must have been so sad when he couldn't remember their life together :(

AND THE IALS THING IS SO TRUE AND SO HILARIOUS. They are both so so so chaotic.

We do sort of see Max's reaction when he finds out David still loves him. But it's not an obvious 'oh thank god' - like it is with malec in TLND. Max's realization is slower and harder because everytime he gets a hint that David still loves him his immediate reaction is not 'oh thank god'. It's 'but why would he?". the doubt and the second guessing made it harder for him to accept the truth and harder for us to see his reaction. I think when it finally sunk into him (i don't think we actually see that exact moment) he didn't just feel relieved, but blessed and grateful and just so insanely happy.

now i am getting emotional.

PS - My mind is going to all sorts of places since ao3 has been down too omg.

#mavid #IALS #lbaf

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mmx-code-crimpphire · 11 months

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Brief Post on the AU's Origins

This isn't really a headcanon, but a post about how the AU came to life. How I just wanted a short little comic, to making this into a full blown AU.

NEW CHAPTER ON AO3!!

I believe some of you are wondering how that progressed. I’m sure I covered this before, albeit briefly, but if I haven’t, I’m happy to bring it out. I've only told a few people about how it came into existence and I did write it at least once in the info box on a sprite animation I made back in 2018. And, that's where it starts, and that's also when I barely joined the fandom.

I wanted to have a crossover made for Classic and X, considering, at the time, I had the information of the two not being so directly connected to each other, and I was ALL OVER THE PLACE for the ship at the time (who am I kidding, I still kinda am lmao). I am one of those who headcanon they definitely are connected directly, and it should be that way imo. Since, in the classic games, at least some of them, Zero was in the process of being made. Especially Megaman 2: The Power Fighters. It may or may not be canon to the timeline. I say it does but idk how other people feel about it.

Though, I consider that canon, so- take that with what you will.

Anyway, ever since I knew of this happening, I wanted a crossover between the two games so bad. See how Rock and Roll react to X and Zero being from the future. How X and Zero's love influenced other., That kind of thing. Especially considering how that's also how Rock and Bass became shipped in my little circle lmao. I think I'll post another headcanon soon, possibly.

I drew a couple pieces pertaining to this, planning out how some scenarios could go, including a cover to the comic. Which I haven't posted anywhere, unfortunately, and I thought I did. But I didn’t. I also did a redraw, which I might also post but I'm not sure where I put it or the og, as it's all drawn traditionally.

Though, after all of that, this was also before I made the blog in November 2018. And the name was gonna be "The Love and Loveless". Yeah. Doesn't sound like a fitting title at all, does it? As a romantic writer and illustrator, if the story has romance at least half predominantly in the story, I naturally make a romantic title to it. And I didn't like it. I'm also one of those artists that come up with things on the spot and I usually like them. They mostly stay as they are, but sometimes, even after I like the first idea to come to mind, I'll change it eventually. And this was one of thoses things where I didn't like the first thing AT ALL and needed to change it.

So, for the next couple weeks after the title was first thought of, I thought about what the better title could be, and then my thought process went like this as I stimmed: "Hmmm… X is blue, Zero is red.. though mine is black armored. Hmmmmmm. Maybe something with 'Code' in it. Since the story does revolve around them more heavily in it. Ruby and Sapphire, maybe. Nah, too long. Crimson and Sapphire is definitely too long… …Waaait- Crimson. Sapphire. Crimpphire. Code: Crimpphire!! That's it!!"

And that's how the title became as it is now! Not only does it revolve them as a pair, but also as individuals and how their connection made them feel as one. How they supported each other as well as took care of themselves. They indirectly taught each other to do what they can to fight the evil in the world, albeit it was mostly Mavericks for a time. They became each other's heart and soul.

Though- back on topic, sorry lol you get the idea

I loved the title then so I decided to change it to that when I made more fan stuff to accommodate the comic. Though, as the month progressed (this is from September to October btw, right around the start of being in the fandom still), I thought about what X and Zero could do with the Command Mission crew at that point, then it escalated what could happen if they had a beach trip and then took the train home (you can thank the "Spirited Away" track "The Sixth Stop" for this lmao, along with a fanart of X and Zero resting on a train by themselves IT'S SO CUTE!! If I find the link I will put it here), and my mind just went BRRRR and made a little script out of it.

And it.. well - progressed into something way more than just a Classic/X crossover comic. I thought about what other scenarios can happen, especially during X5, so I started making the script for Zero and Dr Light's Deep Conversation. And it became the demo for this AU.

Then it escalated into what if I made this entire thing into an audio drama??? And that idea seemed to work- except I was dealing with a lot of problems behind the scenes, that I felt overwhelmed, and from then on by this post here, I decided to not make it into a full on audio drama anymore. But it's still been a huge process but I think I finally found an outlet that can work for this.

Especially since I haven't done it in literally over 15 years.

I DECIDED TO MAKE A FANFIC OUT OF IT!! And then audio dramas, comics and a few tidbits of art are gonna come out of that!! It took me this long to consider it but I think I'm finally doing it!!

Sorry this also turned into a full on announcement on what the AU's direction is gonna be, but I'm just excited to bring it out!!

That's how the AU became a thing and I'm glad it has with the friends I've gained over the years and it's great to have them!!

I'm glad you all came to see this and it has fed you well so far and I hope I can FINALLY give you a cohesive story I wanted to share since day 1!!

Hope you enjoyed reading!!

#vincent rambles #xzero #zerox #not really a headcanon post but it's included anyway cuz it has a few highlights of headcanons lol #code crimpphire headcanons #headcanons

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areweevercameraready · 11 months

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snippet two :>

A/N: me: oh no, AO3 is getting DDoS'ed :( and i just finished a chapter of beliefs so I can post another chapter! damn me: me: wait i can post another human chapter

anyways, please stay off AO3 for the time being and here's a post with more information, but they're facing extreme server overloading and opening AO3 pages makes it harder apparently. i don't know, i'm a communicator, not a programmer, so i'm just passing along what i know.

anywho! here's another snippet of the human au i'd been writing. if you would like to read the first part, here is the first snippet, which also has some more background on the au. check here for descriptions of the human au.

this is likely to be the last of this big story i'll be posting. i might post some of the oneshots i have in this au, as i have a few that are sorta unrelated to the plot that i'm comfortable with posting, but...well. we'll see. i finished chapter 13 of more than beliefs so i've 1) begun writing chapter 14 finally and 2) might post chapter 11 soon :D not having anything to do with my life right now is good for catching up on sleep debt and writing fanfiction! yipee!

i hope you enjoy!

Words: 7,265

WARNINGS: having a panic attack and being sad, not much more i don't think but if there is, let me know and i'll make note of it!

(in lieu of a diving image, please take this human au meme LOL)

“So. Bartender. Your name’s Eric, right? That’s what Marl’ said.”

“Mhm,” Eric hummed.

“Thanks for driving them home. Marlowe would’ve flipped tomorrow if he woke up and realized he’d left the car somewhere else. He’s gonna flip either way, though, since the idiot teaches tomorrow morning,” David snickered a little, leaning against the car door in a casual manner.

At the very least, the flippance was making it more evident that David wasn’t, like. Mad at him. Or something. Eric nodded again before remembering that David was now driving. “Uh. Yeah. Would have been a kinda problem.”

“Mm,” David hummed. After a few beats of silence, he added. “You got anything to do tomorrow?”

Tomorrow? Why was he asking? “I, uh, have work at four. At the bar. Other than that, no,” because truthfully, he was only scheduled five days a week at the restaurant.

He tried to get his shifts at the restaurant and his shifts at the bar to not line up, but five days a week at both jobs meant there wasn’t ever a chance of that happening. When he did need a full day off, though, for parent-teacher conferences especially now that Gavin was going to school, he managed to get the exact days precisely. Which was probably because he was so punctual and dependable. Which was what he tried to be. But sometimes, he worried that wouldn’t be enough, so he always clocked the days he’d need two months in advance.

Tomorrow was just a lucky day though, to just have one job and not both. Often they stacked. Sometimes they didn’t.

“Wanna meet up for lunch?” David’s proposition cut through Eric’s tangential thoughts.

He turned to David again now, a slight frown on his lips, before asking, “For lunch?” as if he hadn’t heard properly.

David nodded. “Yep. My treat, for bringing my boys home safe,” he shot Eric another grin. “Also you like, haven’t at all told me where the fuck to go. I’m assuming it’s closer to downtown but unless you just wanna keep driving in circles….”

Fuck. Eric looked out the window for real now, trying to figure out where they were. It was the highway going into town. “You’re going to want to take the Concord exit,” he said.

“Okay,” David said. “But, yeah. Lunch.”

“Lunch,” Eric repeated, quickly averting his eyes back to the dashboard. “You and me and lunch?”

He didn’t really want to look directly at David, but just in case David like. Grabbed him. Or something. Eric wanted to see him in his peripheral. He saw David shrug.

“I mean, yeah. You ever been to Lucy’s on Main? Such a great diner, I used to go with an old girlfriend every night almost,” David pulled off the exit.

“Right. And then left at the, uh….fourth light.”

“Gotcha. Lunch. At Lucy’s on Main?”

Lucy’s on Main wasn’t the fanciest place, but Eric had only been once, and that was for Gavin’s fourth birthday. He liked their theming, even though it wasn’t an actual children’s diner or anything, and Eric was never one to deny his brother when he asked for something achievable.

If he could, he’d get Gavin the world. Snatch it right out of God’s hand

Going there with a stranger, though….if David wasn’t dating like, at least two other people, Eric would be worried this was a flirt attempt. And he wasn’t really in the mood to be romantic. He kinda wanted therapy first? And he hadn’t thought about romance in a while, not since his boyfriend in high school. Now he was an adult with responsibilities, he couldn’t just ditch school and smoke weed by the train station with Schmidt.

This was just some guy being thankful, though, right? And he wasn’t doing anything tomorrow….and the idea of food, especially free food, was pretty enticing. A guaranteed meal would be nice. And at this point, he didn’t think this was going to be a trap. He knew Lucy’s on Main. He wasn’t...this was awkward, but it wasn’t like he was going to get mugged or anything.

The silence dragged, just a bit, and David sighed. “If you wanna say no, you can. I just know this’ probably way outta your ways, and you seem like you’re not gonna kill me and steal my car, so it’d be nice to hang out once and say thanks.” David sounded tired, too.

Though that explanation was pretty straight forward. Eric nodded slowly in something like understanding. If David was worried Eric was going to be mugging him, and Eric was worried that David was going to be mugging him….well, he could just be saying this to get his guard down. Eric knew he consistently looked like his guard was up, more often willing to fight than he wasn’t, but maybe that was off-putting here. Maybe he was the scary one, here.

Ah, the mom friend override.

“No, I, uh. That’d be cool,” Eric said, then cleared his throat and continued. “Thanks for the offer. Would noon work?”

“Yeah, sure,” David smiled as he took the turn onto Concord Avenue. “Meet you there?”

“Sure,” Eric said. “You can pull over anywhere on this block.”

He gestured out the window. His building was maybe two blocks down, but, well. He didn’t want to take this dude all the way to his apartment.

Did he?

No, no he didn’t. Also, his days of one night stands were like, two years long gone. Eric wasn’t about to bring a whole adult (WITH TWO BOYFRIENDS, MIND YOU, AT LEAST TWO) to his tiny apartment at almost four in the morning with his kid brother sleeping in the same bedroom. Like, sure as fuck that wasn’t happening. Regardless of how pretty David looked in the moonlight.

Yeah, he was tired as fuck if he was just going to start mentally waxing poetic about how pretty these boys were. Eric looked around at the car, out the window, then back at David. Who was watching him with a smile ever so slight, almost knowing, almost cocky.

“What, you want a goodnight’s kiss too?” he joked.

Eric snorted, shaking his head. “Nah, I’m just….” Confused.

This was all so much, in one night.

He had a hundred fuckin’ dollars in his pocket?

And David’s boyfriend’s phone number? This dude just drove him home, too, for nothing, and was going to take him out to lunch tomorrow?

“This’ a lot more social interaction in one day than I get most months,” Eric joked, almost confessed really, and shrugged. “It’s also four in the morning.”

“Huh, would you look at that,” David looked at the clock and pulled a face, as if he’d just noticed the time.

Wouldn’t that be a riot? What the fuck was he doing awake, even? Eric snorted, hiding his eyes behind a hand as he laughed. “Stop no, it’s too-it’s too early for this,” he said between laughs as David began to chuckle a little himself.

“Damn right. You head home, get to bed, and make sure you’re up at at LEAST noon!” David waved at Eric as he got out of the car, into the night air.

It nipped at his nose, much colder than he thought it’d be. Granted, he thought he’d still be warm from the bar, too. Eric turned around, waving at David as he whipped a completely not-legal U-turn in the middle of the road, then headed back where he came. It looked like David was going to wait until Eric got into a building, which was kind of nice of him, but once Eric stood still and waved, he hit the reverse. Which was also fair. And also part of Eric’s plan.

He didn’t exactly….Now okay, tomorrow morning this was all going to register as flirting. Eric was going to take off his shirts and lay down in his bed and watch Gavin sleep for maybe fifteen minutes before passing out himself out of just exhaustion while wearing his bartending slacks and without actually being beneath his pillows. He was going to not think about the implications behind the three men’s actions until tomorrow morning, while making breakfast, and he was going to be quiet enough in thought for Gavin to ask if he’d done something wrong while they were on their drive to school.

“No, Gav, you’re fine. Peachy, actually, sweet pea,” Eric said, while he and Gavin waited at a stop light.

Gavin was supposed to hold the motorcycle’s safety restraints while they drove, but more often than not he ended up holding Eric. He had his own safety jacket and belt buckles, which Eric installed as soon as he found out they were a thing. He’d gotten the bike before he’d gotten Gavin, and he wasn’t giving the bike away.

“What’re you sad about?” the kid asked.

The light was still red, so Eric leaned one arm back and gave Gavin one of their bike hugs. Positioning was always awful, but Gavin knew the drill, so he snuggled his helmeted head beneath Eric’s arm for a moment and hugged him tighter.

Now, though, how to like. Explain this to the four year old.

“A friend asked to go to lunch together today,” was what Eric landed on.

Gavin gasped, excitement filling his voice in a way that almost made Eric feel bad. “A friend?! Yay!”

“Yeah, a friend. I’ve got those,” Eric joked.

“Daddy’s got one friend,” Gavin said with his own snicker, and Eric laughed, too.

“Daddy’s got more than one friend,” he said, and for a moment, thinking about the phone number written on the bill at home, he meant it.

Gavin seemed happy with that explanation and with those jokes, and Eric was as happy as he’d let himself be. He dropped Gavin off and promised to pick him up later, told him to have a good day, that he loved him.

Kid’s school got out at 1:38, which would be a fair reason to leave lunch, if it got like. Unbearably awkward. Which was a real possibility, if you asked Eric. Wasn’t last night awkward enough? This dude really saw Eric at his normal messiest states at four in the morning and decided that the best decision was to spend even more time with him. Granted, he was in his pajamas last night, and he seemed pretty out of it, too. It might be nice to have a real conversation outside of being ground into dust levels of tired.

Also, it wasn’t Eric’s worst, and he thought he’d held it together pretty well considering the outlandish circumstances. In nearly any other case, he would have gone running for the hills at the mention of having lunch alone together with a stranger, or even being handed a bill with a fucking phone number on it. He’d been hit on at the bar before; everyone likes the stoic type bartender, until he starts rejecting advances. Then he gets the drink thrown on him and slurs thrown his way, which like, really? The owner’s queer and they think it’s going to be okay to say slurs? Idiots. Eric knew it was a situation better than that kind of shit, but he didn’t know what made him say yes to these advances. Something about the genuine-ness of it all, maybe.

And these like. Were definitely advances. There were no ifs, ands, or buts. He didn’t process it fully last night, but now that the lunch date was starring him in the face, he could see it for what it was: a date.

Three people, though. That was three extra people to disappoint. And, if he really thought about it, Eric didn’t know if he could, like….handle that. On an emotional level but also on an anxiety level.

Still, to not show up to lunch and flake would be rude, and he may be a coward but he was anything but rude.

Eric took some time between dropping off Gavin and heading to the date to prepare. He had tried while putting his hair up, a looser ponytail rather than the pinned bun he had for either of his jobs. Usually, he’d’ve preferred to keep it down, but. Well. It got everywhere. It was kinda scraggly, probably 90% split ends. Good to have it out of the way.

He threw on a quick t-shirt, a pair of black jeans, and his regular leather jacket. If this was really just lunch, then it was a one and done kind of situation. Not much else for him to do, other than lay down and try to nap for an hour before heading out.

Lucy’s on Main was fairly crowded for lunch on a weekday, in Eric’s opinion. People were waiting outside when he got there. And he didn’t see David waiting amongst them, so he put his own name down for a table and went to go stand outside. There was a couple sitting on the bus stop bench, though. Smoking. It’d been a few years since he managed to kick his nicotine addiction, but he wasn’t exactly fond of the scent of smoke anymore, so after a moment of taking in the wind and hyping himself up to talk to a stranger, a whole ass stranger, he went back in.

And that was when he heard a “YO! ERIC!”

Eric jumped, turning around towards the inside of the diner. Most of the tables were filled, and one had a guy with his arms up, waving him down. Literally. Waving him down.

“HEY!” David called out.

Eric saw him crack a smile as he recognized him, as Eric waved back just a little. They were turning heads a bit. Just a bit.

He told the host that he was with “that guy” and made his way over, sliding into the seat opposite David. And he tried to kind of avoid looking at him, because being yelled at across a public space was never something Eric was too fond of. As soon as he sat down, though, David waved in his face.

“‘Sup, Harley,” David said. “Nice bike.”

“Thanks.” Eric looked up, briefly, then froze. And looked up again.

David’s hair was down, though it’d been brushed and was pinned back with a bobby pin or two. He was wearing a puffy varsity jacket and a t-shirt underneath, the varsity jacket covered in patches that seemed to be hand-sewn on. There was a pin, too, on the jacket’s collar, with the inclusive rainbow. Cute. His glasses were cute, too, framing his face in a way that made his smile look a bit wider as he also looked over eric.

He….Well. In last night’s dark, he hadn’t really caught what David actually looked like. He was smaller than Eric but they had similar styles almost. There was something comforting casual about David’s posture, though, and in the way he leaned back against the booth’s seat.

Surrounded by hot men. Eric turned away as the waitress came over, hoping he wasn’t blushing as much as he thought he was, and ordered himself a plate of fries. Before she left, David interrupted.

“Nah, you can order more, dude. I’m paying,” he reached over and motioned towards the waitress. “Get a milkshake at least, Lucy’s shakes’re the fucking best.”

Now, Eric didn’t really want to be wasting someone else’s money, and the plate of fries was definitely more than he’d been planning on having today. But David was watching him. And Eric couldn’t really say no. Not when he was being watched like this. A burger did sound good, too, but….

God, he didn’t want to make David spend money on him. Eric stuffed his hands into his pockets slowly, playing with the edge of his phone’s case. “Can I, uh. Can I get a chocolate shake, too?” he asked.

“M’kay,” the waitress said with a knowing smile.

“And make his fries the bigger size! I’ll steal some,” David grinned at the waitress, who chuckled at his antics but wrote down the change.

And then she left.

Eric leaned back in the seat, and he didn’t really know what to feel. In a weird way, it was good that David just started to converse, then and there.

“Like I said, cool bike. What kind is it?” he said, as if he knew of it.

“Uh,” oh, jeez, the bike. “It’s a 2005 Night Train.”

“Sheesh, a Night Train! And she’s still running? Do you do your own maintenance?”

“I, uh. Yeah. Yeah, I do. Maintenance and modifications.”

And that got him talking. Which, like. Was hard. On standard, getting him to converse was hard. But then David mentioned his old bike, how he used to have a 2002 Softail Deuce, how he always found it hard to maintain. Well, ‘course it’s hard to maintain if you don’t keep checking on it, especially after not riding it for a bit. Eric installed the second seat and had to buy her new brakes, just in case and to help with smoother rides.

He talked about how he kept his parts and mechanical tools in a case in his apartment. Usually he’d keep it stuffed under the coffee table, better than leaving it out in the garage.

David said it was cool, that he knew enough to maintain the bike himself. Yeah, Eric just liked keeping up with it and making sure he knew enough about it. He didn’t know any mechanics in the area well enough to trust them to actually take care of it as well as he could. Plus, if anything went wrong, he’d know what the situation was. He liked knowing that.

It was nice, to talk to someone about these things. Eric didn’t notice his tension easing up with David. It was almost natural.

David mentioned having a bike. What did he do with it? He had to get rid of it, he didn’t take good enough care of it. Sold it to someone before he moved out here. He’s originally from Michigan but relocated for work, since it’s better to be near a lot of galleries. Selling the bike helped pay for life after college.

What did he work in? Art. He worked most in oils, something like a modern impressionist kind of painting. The big one was sculpting. He liked to chisel, but marble was kind of hard to come by. He’d gotten into wood carving, though, since the house was nearby a forest. He’d take down a tree somewhere on their property, replant a few saplings, then bring it in pieces into his workshop to carve. It was in the basement, but they’d set up a ventilation system well enough. He did like painting realism sometimes, as a hobby, though.

Eric didn’t know anything about art. He would love to see his works, one day.

Well you could swing by. I don’t think anyone’d be home to mind. If you wanna hang out some more.

“Who’s home?” Eric asked then, almost confused.

David blinked at him a few times, trying to process what was confusing, before realization entered his face and he snapped his fingers. “Shit, yeah. I’m supposed to….yeah. So, uh. Me and the boys wanted to get to know you more. ‘S why Princey and Marl’ were at your bar.”

“Oh.” What? Who the fuck are the boys? “Who’re the boys?”

“You’re gay, right? Just want to clear that up, ‘cause this is about to be so fuckin’ awkward if you’re straight.” David sipped his milkshake expectantly while Eric made a face, and before Eric even answered, David snickered. “Sorry, dumb question, you don’t need to be gay to like, get this. I dunno if anyone told you directly, but Phillip and Marlowe and I, and Cadence, and another dude you haven’t met named Draco, we’re all in a relationship. Poly, gay, all that. We’re all in a relationship.

“And like, we aren’t gonna reel you into a relationship with all of us. Cadence just said you were nice, so’d Marlowe and Phillip,” David put his hands up—Eric’s face must have been some kind of slack jawed, but he was more trying to decipher what David was saying than paying attention to himself. “We thought it’d be cool to meet you. Well. I thought it’d be cool. Like, as friends and stuff. And like, we move like a pack. I don’t wanna speak for the others on what they’re thinking, but I just wanted to make sure you knew like, this isn’t a date, not for me. But like, I dunno. You’ve got everyone’s interest now.

“So if you’re like, wondering why a bunch of randos’re meeting up with you out of nowhere, it’s because you seem cool and we all share one braincell that befriends people at the same time. We all wanna meet you. I dunno what everyone’s specific desires are past that, I just kinda wanna get to know you, but I think we could be friends. That’d be cool.” David leaned back, indicating the end of his explanation, and picked up his almost empty milkshake to sip from as Eric digested all of that new information.

“Oh. Okay,” Eric’s voice sounded hollow, even to himself.

Was that like getting stalked? Was he just getting stalked now, but a frat house of gay dudes? Was that what was happening? He didn’t know. His ears were kind of ringing a little as he tried to process that.

So he’d run into a gaggle of dudes who wanted to be his friend. All of them? They’d talked about him—of course they’d talked about him.

One of them was fucking famous? Eric didn’t know what being friends with a famous person was like, but he didn’t want cameras in his face all the time if that’s what it meant.

Was he even good enough for that? Eric wouldn’t have considered himself friendship material for any regular person, not to mention multiple people at once, one of whom was famous.

He had a lot of concerns, off the bat.

“It’s kinda a lot to explain. Mostly, we’re just gonna be annoying, since you seem cool and we wanna be friends. If that’s okay,” David said. “That okay?”

What would they want out of him? He didn’t have money. He barely had a personality, if you asked him. There wasn’t anything really to gain from being his friend.

Why the fuck were these people interested in him?

Eric barely heard him. He just. Starred. For a moment.

That was when Eric became acutely aware of where they were. Of who he was talking to. That this was...well, it was a casual conversation, but a proposition to come home. He had to—he checked his phone, it was 1:10, holy fuck. He had to pick up Gavin soon. Like, now even. He had to go.

He had to go.

He just had to.

“Okay. I,” what was he doing here, what did they want out of him? There was no way— “I need to go.”

David raised his eyebrows but said nothing of it. His smile faded. “Okay. Go ahead, I’m handling the bill,” his voice was a lot more gentle now, as if the fervor he’d spoken with earlier had been sapped out of his bones.

Eric almost missed it.

He’d been lulled into a false sense of security, out of talking about fucking motorcycles and art. He stood, one fast motion that is more abrupt than he should be, and turned down the hall. He could apologize. David seemed nice. So did Phillip. Marlowe. Cadence maybe even. It might be nice, to talk to some more people, to get to know them.

Gavin had said earlier that he had a friend. He could stick his neck out there. Reach out to people. He had a phone number. He could turn around and talk to David right now.

David had looked real sad when Eric left.

Instead, he walked down the hall and out the door. He tried his best to breathe evenly, because panic driving the bike was never smart, and in doing so he just. Swallowed. His feelings.

Eric took a big gulp of air, actually, and grabbed his bike’s helmet. Already, he was just zoning out. He was going to go pick up Gavin! Then, he was gonna make sure the kid was doing his homework. And then he had a shift at the bar.

What would they even say about Gavin?

He revved the bike’s engine and pulled out of the parking lot without looking back.

His brain was static empty by the time he pulled into the parking lot at Gavin’s school, a whole ten minutes early. He didn’t have to leave that fast. But he couldn’t just stay there. What would he do? Go back and talk to David? Face that kind of unknown? He...he couldn’t. He’d stormed out like something was wrong, and wouldn’t David be mad for that? He didn’t know him much anyways. He didn’t owe him anything, either.

If only he could convince the guilt weighing in his stomach the same thing.

When the school bell rang, Eric perked up, taking Gavin’s helmet out from where it gets hooked and clipped onto the back seat. He drummed his fingers against the top.

His kid came bursting out from around the portables, running around to where Eric usually parked. Gavin threw his arms up in the air when he saw Eric, so Eric threw his arms up as well. He climbed off the bike and squatted down, holding his arms open enough for Gavin to launch himself into a hug.

They did this just about every day and Eric didn’t see himself ever getting tired of it. Gavin snuggled his face against Eric’s shoulder and shouted “HI THIEF!”

“Hey, kiddo,” Eric said with a sigh. The nickname was a dour one, but it was hard to train Gavin out of it. He’d gotten upset about enough things, today, and he was waiting until they got home to do something about the rising panic he was literally just barely tamping down.

He helped Gavin onto the motorcycle’s seat, strapping him in while he asked how school had gone. It was a Thursday. Gavin had math tests on Thursday, which he loved. They were doing fifty in a minute with addition, which the teacher said Gavin was really good at. Better than reading time, since he was bad at focusing. The teacher suggested he get Gavin checked for reading disorders or attention disorders. But Eric didn’t have the money for something like that.

Still, it was nice hearing Gavin talk about how happy he was to finish the fifty. He was the first one done. “You’re such a smarty pants,” Eric joked, patting his hand on Gavin’s helmet once he got it strapped on.

“Mm,” Gavin frowned at that one, then shrugged. “Not really. I just like the numbers.”

“You’re good at the numbers, too,” Eric reminded him as he sat himself back down, too. “What homework do you have tonight?”

“Wait wait, but I wanted to know,” Gavin grabbed Eric’s sides, balling his hands up around him. “How did lunch go?”

Lunch.

Gavin was asking about. About how lunch went. Eric was really glad he wasn’t looking at him, because there’s no way he could have hidden how much his face fucking fell at the question.

“It, uh. Went alright.” Eric put his own helmet on, not turning around to see Gavin. “I’ve got work tonight, so I’m going to cook dinner when we get home, and you’ve gotta do your homework. Okay?”

He didn’t want to talk to his four year old brother, of all people, about that travesty of a date. It wasn’t even a date. It fucking felt like a date.

He didn’t want to hang out with anyone. He didn’t even want to have to talk to any of them, not if they were going to all pile up on him and what if anyone ever started taking offense to him? He didn’t want to join their group. And he probably wasn’t even good enough for it.

He didn’t want to think about how he’d walked out on David.

Shut the fuck up about it, Eric. You’ve gotta go for a bit of a drive. Then you get to panic about this.

“Okay,” Gavin’s voice was quiet, a little sad. Probably because Eric wasn’t answering his question. Usually Eric gave him an explanation before a nonanswer. But he didn’t need to. And Gavin wouldn’t understand. Eric could think of a thousand reasons why not to talk to Gavin about that.

“It’s fine,” Eric said, as if he could comfort Gavin with that harsh statement. And he revved his engine before he could hear Gavin’s response, if any.

The drive was quick. Some kinda force must have been on Eric’s side because every light was coming up green. He parked the bike in his unit’s garage and Gavin hopped off fast, beating Eric to the door, and disappeared inside.

Usually that was a surefire sign the kid was upset, but at the moment, Eric couldn’t really find it in himself to care. Nor fault him, really. Eric was on edge, was being pretty unreasonable.

On the flip side, he had to make dinner. It was 2 p.m. and he had to be at work at 4, so he had to leave at 3:30, and he had to make sure Gavin was doing homework. A conversation like this could take hours. He didn’t have that kind of time. And he’d have to understand himself why this was all happening. Why he was doing this. What was so terrifying.

Eric didn’t have the time nor the energy to confront that. So he wasn’t going to.

Quietly, he trudged into the kitchen, jumping when the door to the bedroom slams closed. Gavin, most likely. He usually did his homework in the kitchen, but, well…

Eric slung his jacket over one of the kitchen chairs and went to work cooking. It was always a tossup, leaving Gavin home alone. He was a smart kid. Eric told him not to touch the stove or the oven or touch any of the knives on their stand, and Gavin had never done anything like that. Eric also would punch in his phone number on the landline phone and colored in the “call” button with green sharpie. If anything happened, Gavin knew to just hit the green button. That’d call Eric, and he could always get home within ten minutes. If anything super bad happened, Gavin knew to hide in the closet. All of the neighbors on their floor had been asked, please, to call him if something happened to the building or his unit.

That was the best he could do, really. He didn’t have the money nor knew anyone well enough to let them watch Gavin. Once, he tried to leave Gavin with the neighbors, but he’d somehow escaped their apartment and gone back to Eric’s. The kid was attached, the neighbor had explained. And Eric didn’t really want anyone watching him in their apartment, when he wouldn’t be there.

Sometimes, the kid will do the dishes for him. Once, Eric was pretty sure Gavin cut his hand while trying to wash a knife, but Gavin said a bully got his arm caught on a door hinge in a fight. That was a specific enough lie that worried Eric that maybe both had happened. Poor kid had to deal with living with him, bullies on top of that?

He made pasta with some marinara sauce. It was a solid batch, and if Gavin didn’t finish it, then Eric would have some. He’d already eaten more than enough at lunch, though. And he was used to being hungry by now.

He stared at the cooking pasta with a blank expression.

Once dinner was ready, Eric checked the clock. Twenty minutes before he had to leave. Which was pretty standard for him, save for how he now had to go into the room where Gavin was hiding so he could change. He wasn’t about to go out in what he’d consider his nice clothes, to a bar where he could get thrown up on.

He stopped in front of the door. And took a breath.

“Dinner’s ready whenever you want it, Gav,” Eric said, voice soft as he also knocked on the door. “Can I come in? I’ve gotta get changed to go to work.”

“Sure,” came the soft reply.

Eric braced himself internally, pursing his lips a bit as he pushed open the door and peeked in. Gavin was curled up in his bed, backpack and shoes kicked off on the ground besides it. The blanket was pulled over his head, probably curled up into a ball under the sheets.

He could just throw off his clothes and change real fast. But Eric only got his shirt off before Gavin’s head popped out.

“Did your lunch make you sad?” he asked.

The question made Eric freeze. Part of him wanted to turn around, growl at the child to shut the fuck up and stop asking. It would be easier, to be cruel. But he could never...he didn’t want to be his parents, and when the kid was worried about him? That kind of idiot’d do that.

“A little,” Eric responded, trying to swallow the guilt that arose when he was reminded of how sad David had looked, how his smile had disappeared in the instant Eric stood up.

“Does Thief not have any more friends?”

Eric put on a black t-shirt and started taking off his jeans. “My name isn’t Thief, baby,” he tried to keep his tone level.

Gavin wilted a little. He hated it when Eric reminded him, but Eric hated that name, and it was going to be better to train Gavin out of it now rather than later. “Sorry, Daddy. But did your friend make you sad?”

He sighed. Persistent fucking kid.

Too good for Eric, always worried about him. Sometimes, Eric wondered if Gavin got that from him, too. Always just a little too worried for it to be healthy.

He heard Gavin flinch back into the sheets, so he turned back around. Gently, Eric scooped Gavin up, blankets and sheets and all, and kissed his forehead. “A little,” he answered. “He was a new friend. I don’t think he meant to make me sad.”

“Okay.” Gavin snuggled a little more into Eric’s arms, and he felt Gavin hold onto his shirt. “Did you make him sad?”

Heh. “A little. We were both a little sad,” Eric gave him a squeeze, rocking slowly. “It’s okay, though. Sometimes you make yourself sad. Sometimes other people get sad. Being sad is okay. It’s—”

“It’s about what you do after you’re sad,” Gavin finished. Probably excited he remembered it. Kid’s always been bad at focusing, anyway.

It’s something Eric’s told him before, quite a few times. He wished he could hide his panic and depression and honest despair from Gavin, but in a two room apartment? He didn’t want to leave the kid alone in the apartment, too. As little as he could. Gavin had seen him panic and Eric had pulled himself together to stop Gavin from worrying too much. The three year old kid had too big of a heart in him for Eric to keep making him sad, too. And now he was four.

“Yep, you’ve got it. Smart baby.” Eric lifted him as Gavin reached his arms up, giving him a tight hug around his neck and shoulders.

Gavin’s arm went around his head at that weird angle, where it was the only place where his arms could feasibly wrap around. “Are you gonna make it better?”

“I’m gonna try.”

That seemed to be good enough for Gavin, because he gave Eric a kiss on the forehead, too, and then made a motion to go down. So Eric set him back down on the bed, ruffled his hair, and went back to changing his pants.

“I set up dinner on the table, it’s noodles.” He always tried to get the ones that looked like sea shells, because Gavin thought they were fun. “After dinner, you can leave your plate on the kitchen counter and do homework at the table. I’ll be back before bed time, okay?”

Shift was supposed to be shorter today; he’d be off at 9, and it wasn’t like it was that long of a walk.

“Okay!” Gavin waved his hands. “Have fun! I love you!”

Eric, clothes changed and keys in hand, waved back. “I love you too!”

He closed the door to the apartment, locked it from the outside, and hurried down the stairs. “I’m gonna try,” he mumbled again, quiet to himself.

The phone number.

Eric still had the bill in his other pants’ pocket. He never took it out.

It’d been a while since he, like. Had friends. And had to socialize.

David likely told all of them that Eric had just walked out on him. He didn’t know what they thought of him.

But he had to try. Right?

At the very least, Phillip had seemed nice. Phillip had seemed like he knew what Eric’s anxiety looked like. And maybe that’d be….

Eric could try. There wasn’t a harm in that.

Work went smoothly, both works. No one went too crazy at the bar and Eric left when the next shift lead came, just in time to catch Gavin brushing his teeth before bed. He’d managed to tuck the kid in, clean the kitchen, and even managed to fall asleep at a reasonable time. When he woke up, he took Gavin to school, then immediately went to his second job. Things were going well and, when he dropped off Gavin, the kid had wished him good luck in calling his friend.

Eric held onto that until his lunch break at his other job. During lunch break, he went across the street to a coffee shop, ordered a dirty chai, and took his phone out. He’d taken a photo of the bill’s phone number, wasn’t about to wave a hundred dollar bill around in public, but the picture was good enough.

Here goes...well. Nothing, really. Everything. And nothing.

Just call the damn number.

His finger hit the call button before he could think any more about it, and he waited.

It took two rings for Phillip to pick up.

“Hello?” he asked.

“Hi.”

That was when Eric realized he had no fucking idea what he was going to say. What, was he calling to say sorry? This was Phillip’s number, not David’s. Did he want to hang out with Phillip? What do adults do when they quote hang out unquote. He didn’t want to do anything that’d involve money too much, he wasn’t able to pay for a dinner or something. Did he even want to meet up with him, in person? And he had so many questions about the arrangement, of the what, five men in a relationship thing. Did all of them want to talk to him? Why?

“Oh, Eric. Hello! I ha-I hadn’t expected you to call,” Phillip laughed a little, a sound that eased the tension off his shoulders. “Are you...What did you want to ta-to talk about?”

His voice sounded light. That was good. He didn’t sound mad.

“I, uh. I just wanted to….”

There was a pause. So Eric just took another sip of his coffee and said, quickly, “Did you want to go to a museum? Or hang out or something?”

A museum.

Eric hadn’t been to a single museum in the whole fucking city.

What the fuck was he thinking.

Phillip must have either pitied him or was picking up what he was trying to suggest, because that was when he responded, “Oh! If you want to-to walk around and ta-talk, we could go to the-the university’s botanical gardens.”

Botanical gardens? And walking around might be nice. Eric’s never been to the gardens. To be honest, he didn’t know they existed, and also didn’t go to the city’s university. It was a little farther away from the downtown and it wasn’t like he got an education past high school level anyway.

He’d always wanted to go into mechanics, what with working on the bike and all. It just never worked out.

Flowers seemed nice.

“Sure! That, uh, I’ve never been but that sounds nice,” he said.

“They are qui-quite pleasant,” Phillip hummed quietly, then added. “If you don’t mind, would it be alright if I exte-ex-ex-if I invited Cadence as well?”

Cadence. Cadence, the famous one?

“Is he, uh….is he allowed to like….” Eric, frankly, had no idea what protocol was around famous people. “Sure?”

Phillip chuckled quietly, just quiet enough for the phone to pick it up, and said, “He’s definitely allowed to be in publi-public, if that’s your worry. Being famous doesn’t make it illegal to be in places. He’d wanted to see you again, but, well. Bars are cro-cro-crowded. If you want, I won’t.”

“No, no, it’s okay. Sure. I’d, uh. That’s cool.”

Why did he sound like an awkward teen? Why did this sound like asking someone out to prom? Eric was going to lose his mind.

Thankfully and graciously, Phillip seemed to understand his plight. David must have spread the word of him being an anxious mess because, to some extent, Phillip was planning this date for him.

Not a date. Just hanging out. Still weird for him, but markedly less weird.

“When’s the next weekday you’re free?” Phillip asked.

It wasn’t that hard of a question. “Monday,” Eric responded.

He didn’t have either job. Well, that was a lie, but he was picking up another late shift at the bar. He didn’t have to be there until eleven.

“Great. Monday at ten?”

“Works for me,” Eric said.

Phillip hummed in approval.

Eric almost wanted to ask about David. If Phillip heard. Things had been going well, for the most part, until David explained the polycule situation. And something about that had just made Eric’s chest seize.

That was so many people to disappoint. They’d discussed him. Eric never liked being the point of discussion, for any people. So the idea that this group of people who were all dating had talked about him to the point that the others wanted to meet him was surreal.

Plus, he couldn’t help but be wary of the insinuation that they just wanted to be friends with him. Phillip was very regal, pretty and polished. Cadence was so fucking handsome it was unfair. David had been handsome as well, beautiful in a casual way. Eric was too fucking gay for this. He hadn’t seen Marlowe in much other than lowlight, and while the dude was drunk, but even then Eric could tell the dude was adorable. It was un-fucking-fair.

There was a….worry, deeper down. That while they might not want him in a romantic way, he’s just going to be a nervous gay wreck the whole time.

“See you then, then, Eric,” Phillip’s voice held something of a smirk, and then he hung up.

Eric lowered the phone, starred at the call screen for a moment or two before things began to click on his head. He was going to hang out with Phillip. And Cadence.

They didn’t hate him.

That was a good start.

#human au #eric #david #gavin #phillip #the story #i love these so much gkjgksjgkjldkjgkjlgkjgh #right now im working on a story like this one but for macbeth joining since he's the last one to #and i kinda wanna design or draw the secondary characters in the human world #maybe ill make a comic series of it #if i do ill keep it on this blog since this is much more an OC blog #thats what i made it for after all #i wanna draw a new icon tho because that gavin is kinda old lmaoooooo #but i have a special timing when i wanna do that #:) excited for more beliefs

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allmoshnobrain · 6 months

Text

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 23 of ? | masterpost

word count: 3319 | ao3 link | fic's playlist

Finally, I spotted him, chilling on a couch in the corner, rocking a beer and a smoke as his serious eyes stared at me. My heart tightened seeing him like that; normally, when he saw me, it meant smiles and a hug. Now, however, he just watched me, his cool blue eyes meeting mine from across the room. I held his gaze for a while, my face turning a bit warm as we looked at each other. Heart skipping a beat, I wondered: was he gonna brush me off? Stand up and bail, pretending I wasn’t even there?

✦ summary: Reuniting with James forces Nore to confront the complicated feelings that arose after their kiss.

✦ on this chapter: dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female! oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, love triangle, drinking, smoking, recreational drug use

✦ a/n: Hello! I'm finally on Christmas break and have lots of free time, so I'm trying to write as much as I can! I'm really glad I could post this chapter before the end of the year, and I hope it won't take me too long to post the next ones :) We're on the final half of the story, and things will get a bit more intense from now on. So, how do you think James and Nore are gonna deal with their feelings from now on? I'm really excited to write about it! Thank you so much for reading, feedback is welcome and motivates me a lot! ❤

✧ I want to be the girl with the most cake / He only loves those things because he loves to see them break / I fake it so real, I am beyond fake / And someday, you will ache like I ache ✧

It didn't take too long for me to catch up with my friends again. Just a bit over two weeks post-Leanne's birthday bash, Cliff gave me a ring with some exciting news: the band had landed a gig at a renowned venue in Los Angeles, and if the first show drew a good crowd, there was talk of a repeat performance to wrap up the year.

I hadn’t crossed paths with James since he had kissed me; gotta admit, the idea of facing him after all that had happened had me feeling a bit uneasy. But I was hopeful that, when the time came, we could have a conversation about it. I just hoped we could keep our friendship. There were many things I could handle, but losing him for good was not something I was ready for.

The band needed to fill the place, so Cliff asked if I could bring someone along. I ended up inviting Pat, my friend from the record store, to join me at the show. I mean, asking Dave was out of the question; as time went by, he was getting more and more bitter every time Metallica came up. Even though he wasn't thrilled about me going to the show, having a companion seemed to ease his mood a bit. Ever since I came home with a bruised hand from having to defend myself, he seemed to gradually become more protective and concerned every day. I knew he'd rather I not navigate crowded spots alone, especially at a metal show. But, when it came to Metallica, his wounded pride still had the upper hand.

I met up with Pat right outside the record store before the gig, so we could go to the venue together. She greeted me with the biggest smile, her blonde locks and blue eyes all dazzling.

"I'm so stoked!" she exclaimed, practically bouncing with happiness as I handed her the ticket and the backstage pass. "I've never had backstage access before. This is gonna be rad!"

"Yeah, it's cool. But don't expect anything too fancy; we usually just score some drinks and access to the dressing room," I said, throwing out a strained smile. I tried not to let the nerves creep in about seeing James again, but now that showtime was approaching, my anxiety was cranking up by the minute.

"Oh, don't be a buzzkill," she pouted. "You’re in a bad mood today? Aren't you happy to see your friends?"

"Sorry, Pat. I'm just kinda on edge," I replied with a sigh. Despite really liking Pat, I wasn't up for diving into the whole James-kiss situation with anyone. Truth is, I had been mulling over it way more than I'd like. Couldn't wait to clear the air with James once and for all.

We rolled up a bit later to the venue, and there was already a decent line of fans. It always blew my mind how they had just dropped their first album not long ago but were pulling in a hype crowd that was growing by the day. I could sense the West Coast getting too cramped for whatever they were cookin' up. And, like always, no need to wait in line for us; the IDs whisked us straight backstage, where the guys were getting their act together, getting stage-ready, and already a bit toasted.

I couldn't really zone in on the whole scene that kicked off with Lars, Kirk, and Cliff swooping in for the welcome party; drinks were handed out, cigs were fired up, and Lars, as usual, threw in his cheeky comments ('hey, your friend's a total babe!'). But honestly, none of that was grabbing my full attention. My eyes were on a mission, desperately looking for the only person I wanted to see. No matter how much I tried to fool myself, all I cared about was making sure things were cool between James and me.

Instead, he just got up, strolled over, and handed me the beer bottle.

“Want some?” he asked, throwing a faint smile my way. I blinked, kinda surprised. The way he talked, it was like nothing had happened. Like he never had kissed me. Like I never had bolted out of Joe's kitchen, leaving him all alone.

But, hey, wasn’t that exactly what I wanted? For things to be normal again. For us to stick to being friends, no drama.

“Of course. You ever see me turn down a beer?” I replied with a grin. He let out a soft chuckle and handed over the bottle, his cold fingers brushing mine for the briefest fraction of a second before he brought the cig back to his mouth.

Before long, the venue staff gave us the heads up that the show was about to kick off. The guys wrapped up their final checks, and Pat and I joined them, enjoying a beer by the stage. Pat was all hyped about it; even though she didn't know the band, she was really getting into the music, full of the enthusiasm you'd expect from a dedicated fan. As for me, I was a bit more reserved this time. Don't get me wrong, I was always happy to catch up with my friends, but I couldn't ignore how uneasy I felt, especially when I noticed James's glances, splitting his attention between the crowd and shooting looks my way, a silent storm brewing in his blue gaze.

After the concert wrapped up, he handed his guitar over to a puzzled Kirk, not even bothering to look at him. He headed my way, big steps and a bit of annoyance wrinkling his forehead; at that point, I was almost sure he was going to cup my face in his hands and kiss me again. The idea had my face turning hot, my heart racing, and the palms of my hands getting sticky with nervous sweat, recalling the feel of his lips on mine. Instead of that, he just stopped and locked eyes with me for a moment, carefully studying my face before saying:

“So? How was the show?”

“It was awesome! You guys rock, I loved it!” Pat exclaimed, all excited, breaking the momentary electricity that had arisen between us two. James raised an eyebrow, curious, as if just now realizing she was there, and shot me a puzzled look. I just shrugged, wearing a slight smile.

"It was killer, like always," I said with a grin, and he shot one right back at me. There it was — the familiar, genuine smile I'd been missing all night. I couldn’t help but feel relief wash all over me when I saw it.

We wrapped up the night at some random downtown bar. Most of the time, I stuck with Pat since she only knew me there. A couple of beers, a joint, and watching her all hyped up did the trick; I started to unwind, and soon enough, I was enjoying the night with a lightness I hadn't felt in ages. Had a cig between my lips, just chilling and keeping an eye on the guys from a distance. Cliff and Kirk were deep into some serious chat, sharing a joint. Lars and James had found some fans from the show, cracking up and talking loudly while passing around a bottle of vodka.

"Can I ask you something?" Pat threw out. I shifted my gaze from the scene, catching her curious, kinda fuzzy look — probably thanks to a bit of the booze. Before I could even answer, she kept going: "What's the deal with you and James?"

"Me... and James?" I raised my eyebrows, totally caught off guard. She nodded, a little smile playing on her lips. "We're... We're friends."

"And that's it?" She raised an eyebrow, and I furrowed my brow.

"Of course, that's it, Pat! You know I'm dating Dave."

"Yeah, I know. It's just..." She started, letting her eyes wander over to Lars and James before turning back to me with a mischievous grin. "He's quite the looker. Mind if I flirt with him a bit? Just for fun, you know."

I blinked, caught off guard, and then burst into laughter, my face heating up in a mix of surprise and confusion. Out of all the scenarios playing in my head for that night, Pat showing interest in James was definitely not on the list.

“Sure, why not,” I said, and she shot me a smile before strutting in the direction of James and Lars. I watched her go, a little smirk on my face, a tiny pang of envy sneaking into my chest. Maybe life would be more of a breeze if I could summon that kind of confidence in myself so easily.

"So now you're playing matchmaker?" I heard Cliff's familiar voice, and I looked up to meet his brown eyes staring at me. I grinned as he lit a cigarette, handing it to me before popping the top of the beer can he had in his hand. "Are you okay?"

"Never been better. And you?"

"Are you sure?" he raised an eyebrow. "Last time I saw you, you weren't very happy."

"Yeah, felt a bit down after... you know, what happened," I confessed with a sigh. "But I think that's all settled now, isn't it?"

Cliff didn't seem entirely convinced. He took a drag from his cigarette, the smoke billowing out before he reached out to me. I took the cigarette from between his fingers, bringing it to my lips.

"I thought James liked you," he commented, his attentive gaze fixed on my face. I shrugged.

"Maybe he does. But you know I have a boyfriend, Cliff. Maybe it's good for him to be distracted by some other girl for a bit," I said, and Cliff snorted.

"Not even you believe that, Nore."

"What do you mean?"

"What do you think? Are you sure about what you're doing, throwing your friend at him like this? Or will you regret it later?"

"Why would I regret it?" I furrowed my brow, then stared at him defiantly. "I know what I'm doing, okay?"

"If you say so," he shrugged, taking the cigarette back from my hand.

I watched him walk away with a frown, scanning the area for James, my stomach churning uncomfortably when I couldn't find him anywhere.

We bounced out of the bar late at night, still riding high on excitement and energy, a bit too drunk but not giving a damn about it. Lucky for us, the guys were staying at a friend's house nearby, and a quick call to Pat's dad had us sorted for a ride home from their place. I said my goodbyes to the guys and enjoyed the cruise home. Pat, usually a chatterbox, was oddly quiet on the drive. When I nudged her about James, she blushed so hard I couldn't help but crack up.

When I got home, I made a beeline for the shower. The hot water washed away the remnants of the night's boozing, helping me unwind and finally realize how tired I was. I slipped into my PJs, hopping into bed next to a knocked-out Dave.

I let out a soft chuckle when his arms wrapped around me, his lips landing on my neck. It was like he had a sixth sense that woke him up the moment I was back, even from the deepest sleep. Like he just knew I was nearby. How could I think of anyone else when Dave loved me like this?

“Hey,” he mumbled, his voice all sleepy, planting a kiss on my shoulder.

“Hey,” I replied with a smile, turning in bed to face him. I swept his ginger hair away from his face, and he grumbled before pulling me closer, burying his face in my neck.

"Missed you tonight," he murmured, his raspy voice making me shiver in the best way. "Glad you're back."

"Course, I'm back," I whispered, running my fingers through his hair. "We’re not gonna fight tonight, right?"

"Hmm..." he grumbled, his lips making their way up my neck until they met mine. His hands grabbed my waist as he settled on top of me. "No fights... got something else in mind."

I laughed into his kiss, my face warming as he turned up the intensity, making my whole body heat up. In that moment, wrapped up in his arms, I was sure I was loved. I was sure he loved me. And that was, and always would be, enough.

Or, at least, that's what I told myself.

✧ if you'd like to be tagged on the next parts, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧

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nagdabbit · 2 years

Text

a song that will dig into my bones (4/?)

Chapters: One, Two, Three, Five

words: 2.9k

jon moxley/bryan danielson, eddie kingston

(only slightly edited from the snippets that have already been posted. the day i run out of stuff to post and actually have to wait on myself to write is gonna suck for me)

also on ao3

It took him a couple weeks—a month and a half, maybe—to even notice. It didn't feel new, not really. It felt like a piece slotting into place. But even that wasn't quite right. Bryan didn't feel out of place in the shop to begin with. He didn't feel like an interloper, an intruder. Not to Jon. He barely noticed the change because it felt right to have Bryan there.

Much like the rest of Jon's merry band of babysitters, Bryan tended to show up unannounced. Wandering through the alley door some Saturday afternoons, showing up with coffee and rolls on a random Thursday morning. He'd just sort-of appear in the shop, like he worked there or maybe never really left, already futzing with his calendar and looking through orders without even needing to be asked.

It was kinda nice.

He didn't loudly announce his presence, not after the first time. Hell, sometimes Jon didn't even realize he was there, not until he forcibly pulled Jon's chair away from the desk and thrust a sandwich into his hands.

He was quiet, where Eddie was loud, and was a little stoic, where Wheeler was all enthusiasm and sunshine. But he wasn't disruptive, not in any real way. He didn't try and change Jon's routines, didn't get in his way—deliberately or otherwise. He was a quiet kind of comfortable to be around.

Not that he couldn't be a shit-stirring little prick when he wanted. He absolutely could be, and he seemed to relish in it. But he tended to save that for people who weren't Jon.

Like Eddie, for example. Eddie was fair game.

He heard bickering before it really registered to him that he was listening to people. Familiar people, at that.

One voice was snotty and condescending, the other brash and gravelly, both of them growing louder by the second. He shoved his glasses up onto his head and pushed away from his desk, ambling toward the doorway. He trusted the poultice to do its job, because apparently he couldn't trust either of them to.

He found Bryan perched on the counter next to the register, calmly pretending to read, while Eddie was pacing as he absently sorted the carts into some kind of order. They were bickering, loudly, about the audacity of Bryan to bring his smug fuckin' face out here where he wasn't wanted.

Jon rolled his eyes and interrupted, dryly, "If you two are done, I got shit that needs shelving."

"Yeah, Kingston, get to work," Bryan snipped and went back to his book. The fucking brat. He wasn't even reading, he was just staring at the page for the sake of pissing Eddie off.

"Nope, you take classics," Jon announced, snatching the book from his hands. It was a ratty thing, something that had been brought in a few days before. A well-loved book on rooftop gardens. He'd kept it under the desk, thinking it might be useful one day, when he had the time to do anything with the empty rooftop upstairs. Not that he could keep any kind of plant alive, but he was willing to try. "C'mon, move your ass."

Bryan narrowed his eyes, "Who'll watch the register?"

"You got a good vantage from classics, and you'll hear the bell." Jon rolled his eyes and shoved Bryan off his perch. "C'mon, off you go, stop being a dick."

"I'm taking my break," he argued, but—didn't actually push back, he willingly went where Jon pushed him. Even Wheeler liked to fight back, sometimes.

Eddie squawked out a laugh from the other side of the store, "Ha! He still thinks he gets breaks!"

"He's right, breaks are for employees only." He gave Bryan a shit eating grin, just because he'd kinda been caught. Bryan was stuck, now. Had his own little home-away-from-home there, in the stacks. He couldn't back out, even if he thought Jon's jokes were stupid.

Bryan grumbled and narrowed us eyes, "You're buying lunch."

"Sure, sure. Gotta earn that, though."

"Don't make shelves these out of order," Bryan threatened, claiming his own cart to drag off into the books. "I'll do it, too!"

"Just because you're not an employee don't mean I won't still fire you." It was a weak threat, but it made Bryan's lips twitch upward.

"I hear Barnes & Noble is hiring," Bryan shot back, unable to hide his small, sharp grin. "I hear they've at least got a benefits plan."

Jon pressed a hand to his heart, gave Bryan the most obnoxiously wounded look he could manage. "Words hurt, Bry."

He scoffed, but he still wore one of those little, smirking grins.

Eddie, when Jon turned to go back to work, looked disgusted. He raised his eyebrows at Jon, mouthing, "Bry?" at him.

Jon shrugged at him, because even he didn't know where that came from. Eddie grimaced and flapped a hand at him, waving back toward his work.

Yeah, not a thing was out of place.

They didn't bicker loud enough to distract him, which was thoughtful of them. They still shot the occasional insult across the store—not that Jon really thought they’d actually stop—but they traded off customers without needing to argue about it, so Jon figured that was all the cooperation they were capable of. Besides, it was a funny soundtrack to have. All that squabbling.

When he'd got the call—that Mr. B was gone, that he'd left the shop to Jon, of all fucking people—and moved back, the place had been eerie and silent. It had been awhile since Mr. B was able to spend long days working, and the place showed it. It was fucking—awful. None of that warmth that Jon remembered. Just a cavernous shell of what it had been, enough space of all his guilt and shame to echo around in.

Now it was filled with laughter. Even when no one was there with him, it didn't feel empty or lonely or cold.

He liked to think Mr. B would've been proud of him, what he made of the place. Hoped he would be, anyway.

Bryan startled him out of his work, a hand heavy on his shoulder. "Hey, c'mon, come see some sunlight," he murmured, giving Jon a small smile. "I got lunch."

His eyes were—nice. Pretty blue, little slivers of gold. Still unnerving as all shit, but pretty. "Uh. I'm kinda busy."

"Uh huh, and it's 3 in the afternoon," Bryan said, dryly. "You haven't moved in at least four hours."

"So I haven't burned any calories," Jon argued, forcing himself to look away before he got distracted. It was always overwhelming, meeting Bryan's gaze. "Gimme twenty minutes."

"Nah, I will get a spray bottle, Mox, I swear to god," Eddie grumbled, and shoved Bryan out of the way. He gripped the back of Jon's chair and rolled him backwards out of the room. "It'll keep for twenty minutes."

"You don't know that."

"Nah, but I know you, and you wouldn't be letting me do this if it wasn't true." He paused long enough to smack Jon across the back of the head, then continued his trek. "So tough tits. It's time for lunch."

"You know, most people respond better to classical conditioning, than insults and force," Bryan mused, following along behind them. He had some of those stupid, infuriating look on his face. All kinda smug, full of silent laughter.

"You met this guy?" Eddie scoffed, "He ain't most people."

Bryan's expression widened into a smile, "Yeah, I know."

Jon was kinda getting used to that smile.

Eddie grumbled something under his breath and shoved Jon and his rolly chair into the space behind the counter. There was a whole break room and office in the building, but they never really used either of those for anything but storage. They all pieced together a much nicer space to sit and eat together.

There was a ratty, roadkill armchair Wheeler had dragged in one morning, way back when he'd still been just a part-timer, coming in between training and school. He found it on the way over, one of the many treasures left out of the sidewalk as students moved out at the start of summer. A week later, Eddie had added a small end table.

It kept on after that. There were easy chairs in the kids' section he'd set up, a few roadkill couches hidden in quiet corners, stools and desks hidden throughout the place. There was a stolen park bench Wheeler refused to give the story on, tucked away by the comics. Jon got the feeling it might've been mostly Chuck and Jim's fault, but Wheeler wasn't giving up anything. But there were a few stolen barstools, too, that Eddie refused to own up to.

And each one of them had been refinished and reupholstered by Jon himself. Because he'd learn any fucking new skill to avoid being the one who had to make smalltalk with customers.

It made the place cozy. Lived in.

Eddie paused long enough to yanked the broken glasses off of Jon's face and drop them into the trashcan, then threw himself down into his new favorite spot, the cushy wingback Wheeler had brought in just a couple months before. Bryan chose the armchair to Jon's right. It wasn't a real comfy thing, but the seat was wide enough for Bryan to tuck his feet up under himself like he felt at home.

"I can't believe you're makin' me eat your fuckin' vegan shit," Eddie groused, glowering at the wrapped bundle Bryan tossed to him. "I get enough a'that shit from Ethan, man."

"You could've bought your own lunch," Bryan said, reasonably. Jon may have struggled to read people at the best of times, but he'd learn how to recognize Bryan's own brand of glee. Lips turned up to one said, eyes crinkling at the corners, gaze intent as he watched for the pay off of whatever he was trying to pull. "I asked if you had a preference."

Eddie just gave him a dry look. "Don't do that. Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you hid a fuckin' dog biscuit in here or some shit." He poked at the package, like he thought it might attack, but hunger won out.

Jon's own sandwich was close enough to fried chicken that it didn't bother him too much. Texture wasn't quite right, and it didn't really taste like chicken, but—it was fine. Eddie kept watching him, between trading barbs with Bryan, like he thought Jon might have a real problem with it. Admittedly, he wasn't adventurous when it came to food, but—it could've been worse. At least there was nothing on it that he didn't know the name of.

If Bryan caught anything, he didn't say. Had it been the other way around, Eddie with his weird food hangups, he'd have needled just a little. Just because it was Eddie. Jon, though, seemed to be off-limits.

Jon relaxed and let their heated bickering wash over him. Mused on what he could do, in-between projects. There was an estate sale, out about halfway to Pittsburgh. The auctioneer called Jon up any time he had a seller with a lot of books. He had some special orders he should get to finding, rare books that didn’t usually wander into his hands without a lot of effort on his part. He needed to restock his supplies, too, before he ran out. Maybe, finally, think about writing up a new ad and getting someone hired. It’d make Wheeler relax, at least.

He tuned back in at a lull in their sparring match. Bryan was studying Jon, expectantly. Like he'd said something that hadn't been heard. Eddie was frowning, brow pulled low, eyes flicking between the two of them.

"Uh, yeah?"

Bryan's lip twitched, "I asked if you'd be working late tonight."

"Oh, ah. No." He willed down the heat in his cheeks, as much as he could. "Not, too late."

"So I should drag you out before midnight," Bryan joked.

He didn't know what Eddie was seeing, as he looked between them, but he seemed more grossed out than genuinely angry. He was territorial at the best of times, but this was different. Felt different, even to Jon.

Eddie seemed to find whatever he was looking for, and rolled his eyes. "Alright, I know when m'the third wheel," he grumbled, and threw his balled up trash at Bryan's face as he stood. He hooked a hand around the back of Jon's neck and smacked a kiss to his forehead, just like he always did. "M'gonna go bother Yoots, I'll see you tomorrow, Moxie. Danielson, see you fuckin' never."

"What, I don't get a goodbye kiss?"

"Not until they make a vaccine for whatever flavor of jackass you got. I ain't lookin' to catch anything from you." He gave Jon another of those raised-eyebrows-pursed-lips-head-tilt looks, before he turned and made his way out of the shop.

"One day I'll be friends with him," Bryan murmured, thoughtfully, as he watched over the counter as Eddie ambled off down the sidewalk.

Jon snorted before he could stop himself. "No, you won't."

"No, I won't, but it'll be funny to annoy him with attempted friendship." Shit-stirring pick. Jon was starting to enjoy having Bryan around so often. He glanced back at Jon, his gaze still so intent. Like being under a microscope.

He looked away, trying to ease that little itch of discomfort. If he could figure out where he took his many spare pairs of glasses were, he'd have something to hide behind.

"You don't actually like eye contact, do you?"

Jon shook his head, "I hate it. I get the point of it, but it's—it's a lotta things."

He watched Bryan tilted his head a little, like one of those confused dogs. Trying to parse Jon's words. "There are a lot of reasons, you mean?"

"No, I mean—it's a lot. Eye contact. It's overwhelming, I guess."

Bryan hummed a little. "How so?"

"You know when you've got an itchy tag on your shirt?" he asked, thinking back on how he'd explained it to Eddie once, years before. "And it's just kinda overwhelming? Like it's the only thing you can feel. Like you can hear it, it's so itchy. Takes up all the room you got in your head, all your senses kinda dampened."

Bryan hummed again. He nodded at Jon, one of those encouraging kinda ones that Wheeler sometimes used on him. "And eye contact is like that? Loud and itchy?"

"Yeah. It's fine, sometimes. Doesn't itch as much if m'angry. Guess the angers a little distracting, or something." He huffed out some kind of chuckle, "That's probably not normal."

"There's other words for it, but—it's not not normal."

He felt himself make a face and gave Bryan a bland look. "You know, talkin' in riddles is even less helpful than you think it is."

"I'm not trying to be helpful," Bryan snipped back, swatting at Jon's shoulder as he stood and stretched. "I'm just trying to get to know you again."

And that was—something, wasn't it? They hadn't exactly been close, back in the day. They could work together just fine, they could hold a conversation, could stand to travel together if they got stuck riding to the next city together. But Jon didn't always offer a whole lot of himself up, and he didn't remember Bryan ever pushing. He could weasel out all kinds of information and secrets without his target realizing, he was a fucking tactician in and out of the ring. But he'd never tried that shit on Jon.

Must've been something to that. Must've been a reason. Maybe he just hadn't been interesting enough to hold Bryan's attention. At least, not until he'd disappeared. Then he'd been a mystery, a puzzle to pick apart and solve.

And maybe he wasn't giving Bryan enough credit; he hadn't, exactly, gone out of his way to get to know the man either. He could theorize about Bryan's motivations all day long, but that's all they'd be: theories.

"So," he began, pulling Jon out of his thoughts. "I've just been making you extremely uncomfortable every single time I try and talk to you, huh?"

He shrugged, "It's my hangup. Not like you knew."

"But I should've noticed sooner. And, Jon, physical discomfort isn't just a hangup. A hangup is—no, whatever, that doesn't matter. I'm not lecturing you." Bryan sighed, and gently kicked his foot against Jon's. "Next time something… itches like that, tell me."

"S'fine. It isn't like it's life-threatening, or anything like that." He shrugged again, struggling to sort through the words in his head. "It's—the feeling is bad, sure, but the situation isn't always. Getting itchy doesn't mean the conversation we're having is."

"But you're still itchy," Bryan countered, leaning against the counter. "You know you're allowed to feel comfortable, right?"

He frowned. "I am comfortable."

"Are you?" He didn't sound judgmental, but Jon had never been good at reading tone. "Are you comfortable? Or are you just so used to the discomfort that you've forgotten what it actually feels like?"

Which—well.

"Maybe it's not my place to say anything, but you don't have to suffer," Bryan said, his voice low and gentle and warm. He didn't push any further, though. He reached into the drawer, just to the left of the register, and handed Jon an unbroken pair of readers from within. He smiled, just a little quirk of his lips, and wandered away to keep shelving.

#why use drugs when you can used books #moxbry #aew fic #aew fanfiction #jon moxley #bryan danielson #eddie kingston

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stylezxsilvermoon · 5 days

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how we roll here

hi friends! this is just another in depth intro post with some needed info

what i'm about: on this blog i will pretty much post about anything and everything...including pop culture, youtubers, musicans, actors and literature, these are my interests but im obviously open to more. it just depends if it piques my attention or not.

+ im not sure if i will ever accept requests for...what i call imagines but now we just call one-shot's...but it'd only be for larry stylinson + chris/matt fic and most likely NOT smutty bc im not boutta be getting down and dirty like that...but i mean if you wanna send some i can try...

so requests are OPEN.. ig? (its giving lets..go??? i guess??)

+ i LOVE writing fanfiction so that's mainly what my OG posts will be about, im open to writing more than larry stylinson but i truly think it's always gonna be my main focus, but i am working on some chris/matt fics for the future

whats okay: sending ask, they're always open, reblogging any post NOT reposting, positivity, love, support

whats NOT okay: sending creepy asks...i haven't got any but i'd like to keep it that way, reposting without creds, hatred, homophobia, racism, supporting genocide, islamphobia

and lowkey...? hating on my intrests on posts im like raving about them on? like...way to bring down the vibe dude

speaking of

+ my intrests:

one direction (main)

sturniolo triplets

taylor swift

lorde

tarayummy

jake webber

johnnie guilbert

reading

writing

obsessing over hot men (hehe) and women.......

LGBTQ+ community (bc yus)

positivity/hopecore

love/romance of ANY kind

semi-personal information about me:

im african american and bisexual..and at the time i write this posts im not legal but by the time you read it i basically am...sooo.....

jamila or mila pronouns are she/her/they/them (always interchangeable) 7teen/8teen, fanfic writer/reader (not rlly rn i NEED to read more fic like desperately)

im a chris girl but i sorta kinda not really alot only sometimes really need to stop switching up for matt tho...but...lowkey

hmu if you ever need anyone to talk to !!

main post is -> here if you need a back button

also, i put this like everywhere but i have like no socials but my @ is the same on most platforms my fics are on

wattpad and ao3 are both @.stylezsilvermoon link is on my main intro

btw about fics! my fics are usually longer and really super detailed and have lore...so if you're not about that i dont think you'd like my novels...unless you're up for something new

usually 40k+ USUALLY but probably 20K at the least, my longest i'm going for is 100K right now, they'll probably be around 60-130K according to what the plot is and the goal for the fic and the chapter count

okay byeee

#mila wila's archive #mila's thoughts #stylezxsilvermoon speaks #intro pinned #intro #pinned posts #post it post it sticker #lolz #this took me so long #like pls

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bookpersonmaryj · 1 year

Text

Fanfic Writer Interview

Thank you @you-have-to-use-your-imagination for tagging me!

I have to tag people now, but since I only have very few followers (for a reason, that reason is I get overwhelmed easily and need a bit of distance) I hope no one gets mad if I skip that part...

How many works do you have on ao3?

40 works on ao3, one other on a German fanfic site but it's uhh on a several-year hiatus so... not important!

What's your total ao3 word count?

it's 79.578 words holy shit... that's almost 80.000??? how???

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

I've posted works for four fandoms, three on ao3. Doctor Who (27 fics), The Umbrella Academy (2 fics) and Rusty Quill Gaming Podcast (10 fics).

I've technically got 2 Harry Potter fics, written before JK turned out to be a terf, but I removed them for the moment because I don't want to support her in any way until she gets over her bigotry, and if she never does that then I'll just leave them unpublished forever.

The other one not on ao3 is a Once Upon A Time fanfic that's really just a self-indulgent self-insert for my best friends and myself.

I've also written for far more fandoms, just most of those are only WIPs on my laptop that I'm not sure I'll ever finish and/or post.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Cheating (236 kudos, The Umbrella Academy fic)

Stormcage Wives (232 kudos, Doctor Who fic)

drunk on your love (and a whole lot of ginger) (119 kudos, Doctor Who fic)

tired of the lies (but afraid of what the truth will bring) (107 kudos, Doctor Who fic)

you're burning up and I'm burning out (or is it the other way around?) (101 kudos, Doctor Who fic)

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Yes, always. People tell me they like my writing, of course I'm gonna thank them for it! And if I get to ramble on about my fic for a bit, even better!

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

Oof, let me think...

I'm torn between three, I think.

Wait for me - TUA fic that is really just angst the whole time and especially the ending

Achilles Come Down - DW fic that I would call angsty, but it's kinda ambiguous? it's based on the song by Gang of Youth with the same name, and that song is definitely angsty, so it stands to reason the fic is also at least a bit angsty

I had a dream, which was not all a dream - DW fic that's also very angsty throughout and the last thoughts aren't very cheery, I'd say it's pretty darn angsty.

Do you write crossovers? If so, what's the craziest one you've written?

Yes, but only unpublished unfinished stuff so far.

The craziest of them would probably be the 'Hunger Games but fandoms for districts' one which I only started because of a tumblr post I shared with my friends and we hyped each other up so much that I wrote three chapters in a haze of euphoria before reality kicked me in the teeth and I stopped.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

No, and I really hope I won't receive any in the future...

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Every time I try it either turns into cuddles or the screen fades to black without my doing. I just can't write smut for my life.

(I might be greyace actually??? that might be a contributing factor...)

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I know, and again, I really hope it never happens.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Does it count if I started translating my own fanfic?

If not, no, but I wouldn't be opposed to it if someone were to ask!

What's your all time favorite ship?

Thoschei, I'd say.

Maaybe Zoscar, but tbh I've shipped Thoschei the longest so I gotta go with that one.

No, wait, I've been shipping SwanQueen far longer than Thoschei!

So either one of those...

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

Oof, that's a hard question... I've got so many WIPs I wanna finish but don't think I ever will.

There's a soulmate AU I've started, Doctor Who, Thoschei, rather angsty, and I've written myself into a corner and can't get out of it again.

I also started something that I call Override Paradox, which is really what it sounds like, in that it's 13 trying to create a paradox big enough to override the memory block in the matrix. I really wanna finish it, but it's really hard to write paradox fics, tbh...

Err, I've got several timetravel fix-it stories for various fandoms that I'd really like to finish, but not any one specifically, really.

I also really want to finish that Once Upon A Time fic, mostly just so I can have it finished, and because I did start it for my best friends and I'd really like to give them a nice thing, basically.

I also recently got back into The Umbrella Academy and really wanna finish a couple of those stories, just because they're rattling around in my brain and I would love to make something out of the ideas.

What are your writing strengths?

I'm... pretty good at angst? And fluff? Does that count as strength?

I'm good at imagining what a character is thinking, that's probably a neat thing. There are a lot of fics where I get fully immersed in the inner monologue of someone, and I'd say I'm pretty good at it?

I've also been told I'm good at plot twists, so. those?

(gosh I'm so bad at complimenting myself... definitely need to work on that.)

(also what the hell is a writing strength??? I don't really know what this means...)

What are your writing weaknesses?

I ramble a lot. Describe too much.

I also cannot for the life of me just write a story on the fly without having at least five paragraphs of backstory... It's really annoying, honestly.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

If it makes sense story-wise and if it's done well, then I'm all for it!

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Once Upon A Time. I started it like, five years ago? It feels like an eternity tbh... hang on...

2017??? holy shit that's. yeah, that's six years... wow.

What's your favorite fic that you've written?

Gosh.

I'm gonna choose from the ones I've finished, because I will not be able to choose from the unfinished no matter how hard I'll try.

'Achilles Come Down' is really one of my favorites. I had a lot of fun writing it.

'confessions uttered in the (un)safety of your embrace' was incredibly nice to write. The level of double and triple thinking? Brilliant. The fact that I didn't even realize I was doing it in a triple way until it was pointed out to me (thank you @rearranging-deck-chairs)?! Effervescent.

So yeah.

That's it. You can stop reading now. Also, thank you ^_^

Bye!

#tag #me rambling about my fics because I like doing that #also just noticed I tagged you differently dimitri hope that's okay

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aastarions · 2 years

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stay gold [three]

Previous Chapter || Series Masterlist || Next Chapter

Pairing: Zhongli x Female!Reader

Series Tags: Eventual Smut (18+), Kinda Slow Burn, Reader has a Backstory/Lore, Heavy Liyue Lore, Lots of Fluff, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Reader uses She/Her Pronouns

Word Count: 5,100+

A/N: Here’s the 3rd chapter! Again, I had already posted these on AO3 so going forth I’ll be posting new chapters on both AO3 and Tumblr around the same time! I’m nearly halfway through writing chapter 4 so thank you in advanced for your patience 💕

It’s been a week since you explored a fraction of Liyue Harbor with your newest acquaintance– friend, Zhongli. Within the past seven days that have passed, you’ve come into contact with the funeral consultant for five of them.

He easily became a regular customer at Kai’s Teashop, stopping in every single morning for a large, hot tea and whichever fresh pastry was highlighted to be the special of the day. The only time you weren’t sure if he swung by was during the weekend, which you’re fortunate enough to have off for.

A routine developed between the two of you, though. One that has you looking forward to going to work specifically because you know you’ll get to witness the heartwarming grin that reaches his gentle, golden eyes as you hand him his goods. On a few occasions, you were even able to hold a brief conversation before the morning rush piled past those glass doors.

So imagine the disappointment that festers in your chest when the afternoon rolls around and you have yet to see him today.

You tell yourself that it’s truly not that big of a deal, attempting to apply your full attention to the last hour of work instead…but your mind keeps wandering, wondering if something might have occurred. He could have fallen ill, or injured himself, or he just didn’t feel the need to stop by today – the possibilities are quite endless.

The next and final hour goes by at a snail’s pace, finding yourself cleaning nearly every inch of the shop’s interior to pass the time while your coworker takes care of the very few customers that walk through. You manage to keep your mind somewhat occupied, at least until the very end of your shift. When a string of words from a patron’s mouth catches your attention.

“Do you happen to know where the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor is? I’ve just come from out of town to meet with Director Hu Tao, but I’m not sure where the building is actually located.”

You listen to your coworker give directions to the lost gentlemen just before you head to the back of the shop to gather your belongings, taking a mental note of the parlor’s location. Never did it occur to you that you actually hadn’t known where his job was located, only that it was in fact somewhere in the harbor.

It’s not until you reach into your tote for your shades – eyes catching on the history book that Zhongli had brought in earlier that week for you to borrow – that you decide you could use this newfound knowledge.

Maybe, just maybe, you could head over to the funeral parlor with the finished non-fiction novel, bringing some fresh pastries alongside as a gift for him – well, if he’s actually there.

Would it be too weird? Or strange? The doubts plague your mind as you teeter back and forth between going through with it or abandoning it altogether.

“Ah, screw it…” You eventually mutter to yourself, hoisting your tote onto your shoulder as you return to the front of the shop. Catching your coworker’s attention, you start to say, “I’m gonna grab a few pastries and some tea, could you ring me up–”

“No need for that, take whatever you’d like!”

The startling voice of your boss, Mr. Kai, has you nearly leaping out of your skin. Spinning on your heels, you turn to face him just as he’s fully stepped inside his shop, “No, it’s okay I can pay–”

“Nonsense!” He insists with a hearty laugh, rounding the counter and making his way over to the many jugs of freshly brewed tea, “So what did you want to get?”

You wind up leaving work with a large container of tea, specifically Zhongli’s go-to, and a dozen assorted pastries – much more than you initially anticipated on bringing with you. Nonetheless, you trudge up the hill through Chihu Rock, carefully balancing the box of sweet-smelling goods in one hand while the other holds tightly onto the heavy jug of hot liquid.

Wangsheng Funeral Parlor is much closer to your apartment than you expected, you think while crossing over the bridge to Feiyun Slope, making an immediate left towards an unmarked building. With both of your hands occupied, you resort to knocking on the wooden door with your foot instead and hope that the directions you eavesdropped on were correct.

The front door swings open violently seconds later, the lost gentleman from the tea shop stumbling past you as though he’s just seen a ghost. Following his trail is a short brunette calling out towards him, “Wait, wait! I was only trying to help you save money!”

“By suggesting I have a joint funeral with my late-brother?! You’re out of your mind, lady! I’ll take my business elsewhere!”

He wastes no time in storming off while muttering expletives under his breath, heading as far away as possible from the funeral parlor, at least that’s what you assume. You can only watch in complete and utter confusion, eyebrows knitting together as you recall what was shouted only seconds prior.

Something along the lines of a joint funeral…with his brother–

“Hiya! Sorry about that guy, come on in!” The young woman who’s name you have yet to learn suddenly ushers you into the building before you get a chance to fully comprehend what just transpired, “Welcome to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, I’m Hu Tao, the current director. Were you looking to arrange a funeral?”

The interior is exactly how one would expect a funeral parlor to look like. Dark wooden paneling on the walls, a crimson colored carpet lining through the center of the narrow hallway, vintage looking furniture that compliments the dreary atmosphere one often feels when stepping inside a place like this. An overall stark contrast to the bubbly personality that emanates from the Director you now know as Hu Tao.

You eventually shake your head, placing the pastries and tea on the nearest surface before your arms truly begin to ache, “No, actually–”

“Were you just looking for a casket, then? We have a huge selection of all shapes, sizes, colors, finishes–”

The sound of a door creaking down the hallway catches both of your attention, watching none other than Zhongli make his way over while interrupting with, “Director, would you please practice some self-restraint when speaking to new clients–”

“Hi, not a new client…unfortunately?” You send a shy wave in his direction, the visible signs of agitation that plagued his features dissipating as those golden eyes land on you.

“Oh, what a pleasant surprise,” Zhongli halts in his tracks only a few feet away, your name falling from his lips before he asks, “What brings you here? Is everything alright?”

Nodding, you begin your longer-than-necessary explanation, “Yeah, everything’s fine, you just uh…you didn’t come by this morning for your usual tea so I thought maybe something happened…like you were sick or got hurt so I thought I’d come by with some tea and pastries…though I guess if you were sick you wouldn’t be here – anyways…my boss gave me much more than I originally asked for–”

His raspy chuckle echoes through the narrow space, a much needed interruption to your rambling, “That is quite a hefty amount of tea, thank you for thinking of me, though I am quite alright. The Director and I had an early morning consultation in one of the nearby villages so I was unable to fetch my usual breakfast. My apologies for worrying you.”

“You know…” Your gaze swaps to Hu Tao, who’s currently sporting a rather mischievous grin on her lips, “We have an amazing friends and family discount. Since you seem to be close with Zhongli and all, how about fifteen percent off the purchase of one of our luxurious satin-lined caskets–”

“Director.”

“Okay, okay! I’ll stop, promise.” She insists, though that cheeky smile never wavers, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, any friend of Zhongli is a friend of mine!”

In the midst of shaking the eccentric brunette’s hand you quickly learn her alternative intentions, “And since we’re friends, you don’t mind if I take a snack or two right? I’m starving.”

Zhongli scoffs at her blunt attitude, but you can’t help but let out a few laughs at the entire ordeal.

“That’s fine, there’s plenty to go around!”

It’s not long after that you find yourself in Zhongli’s office, an assortment of documents pushed to the side in favor of his makeshift lunch. You glance around, any personal touches nowhere to be found. Only a wooden desk crafted with what appears to be sandbearer wood, a few chairs, and a filing cabinet make up the small space.

“It’s rather bland, isn’t it?” He notices your gaze follow around the room, “This office is a stark contrast to my abode – I’ve begun to run out of shelving for my books and antiques.”

“Oh! That reminds me!” You turn to grab your tote that’s hanging on the corner of the seat, fishing out the novel he had let you borrow and placing it atop the desk, “I, uh, I finished reading it.”

Zhongli appears surprised by your words, “That was certainly quick, I take it that you enjoyed Verses of Equilibrium?”

“I did! I’ve never had the chance to explore historical books before, especially one with such a poetic format…Rex Lapis did a lot to keep his people safe, the adepti too! You can tell how much the people here adore their Archon…it used to be like that in Fontaine, too…”

“I faintly recall overhearing about the original Hydro Archon’s passing, having been replaced with the God of Justice.” He says after a few bites of the sugary-sweet pastry, “I imagine it’s difficult for people to accept a new ruler without cause for concern.”

“Liyue seems to be handling the loss of their God better than Fontaine, just from what I’ve seen since living here.” You mention, thinking back to your conversation with him a week prior. Where he explained how the Liyue Qixing and the people themselves are in control of their own nation, rather than the God they once relied so heavily on.

Zhongli nods in agreement, “The Qixing have done a divine job of governing the nation both before and after Rex Lapis’ passing, using everything he taught them alongside their own beliefs in what will better this prosperous nation.

“I’m glad that you found the reading to your liking,” he continues, “If you’re interested, I can head upstairs and allow you to borrow another–”

“Upstairs?” You raise an eyebrow.

He nods once more, “Indeed, Director Hu was kind enough to allow me to rent the space above the parlor, though she certainly uses it to her advantage by occasionally pestering me on my days off.”

Despite only having known Hu Tao for all of a few minutes, this doesn’t surprise you in the slightest. If anything, it’s entirely befitting of the personality she exudes only seconds after meeting her.

“You don’t have to grab it right this second, actually I hope I’m not intruding with this sudden visit while you’re working–”

“Nonsense,” Zhongli reassures you, “I had intended on fetching something to eat soon anyways…besides, I find your company to be most enjoyable.”

The instant warmth that envelopes your complexion betrays you, exposing your inability to receive any and all compliments without turning into a flustered mess. Whether or not the man in front of you picks up on it, you’re unaware, the lower half of his face shielded by the cup of tea he’s brought to his lips.

“What do you do for work here anyways? Is it really just preparing funerals all day?” You ask, changing the subject.

“Not entirely,” he goes on to explain, “though I occasionally assist with every day funeral proceedings when needed, I’m mostly hired contractually through Wangsheng for my rather extensive knowledge on Liyue, specifically its history and traditions.”

“So…like a hitman, but for knowledge instead of killing.”

The loud laughter that spills from his lips is unexpected, watching pure and utter amusement adorn his usually stoic features. He sets the cup down before potentially soiling his paperwork with warm tea, responding after a much needed intake of breath, “That is quite a strange way to define it, but sure.”

For a little while longer, the both of you continue to talk about rather trivial, but enjoyable topics. Conversation with Zhongli comes so naturally – it genuinely feels as though he’s someone you’ve known for weeks, or months, rather than a measly single week.

Although he tends to go on long tangents about topics that interest him, he also knows when to press his lips together and avidly listen. Something many men of higher status in Fontaine lack, at least the ones that you had the misfortune of meeting.

It’s in the middle of one of your own tangents that you’re interrupted by three knocks at his door, your shoulders flinching at the sudden sound. When the door creaks open, you’re met with the familiar eyes of Hu Tao.

“Oi, Zhongli, did you forget we have to head to Bubu Pharmacy?”

“Ah, yes, we best make haste,” Zhongli begins to rise from his seat before glancing back over at you, “I apologize, we should continue our conversation another–”

Hu Tao interrupts once more, also turning to face you, “Why don’t you come with us? It’s not like it's top secret business, we’re just looking for ghosts.”

“Ghosts?” Your eyes widen, making sure you didn’t mishear.

She nods as though it’s nothing, “Yep! Since the usual exorcist is out of town, we’ve been asked to investigate some strange activity for quite a hefty amount of Mora, so what do ya say?”

You can’t help but look over at Zhongli for his opinion, only to find a small smile on his lips, “As long as it’s not intruding on the rest of your day, of course.”

“I really didn’t have any plans…'' This impromptu trip to the funeral parlor was anything but orchestrated in advance. The only thing you considered doing today was wandering around the harbor and taking some photos with your Kamera, but you could save that for another time, “Sure, why not?”

The three of you set off for Bubu Pharmacy only minutes later, walking through the entirety of Feiyun Slope until you’ve reached a part of the harbor you haven’t gotten a chance to visit before. Crossing a small stone bridge, you turn right towards the large building that’s settled atop a long and tall staircase.

There’s two people in the pharmacy…scratch that, one person? You’re not entirely sure.

You’re about to consider the purple-haired child with the pale complexion to be the ghost they’re after until she finally speaks with narrowed eyes at Hu Tao, “Oh. It’s you. I don’t like you.”

“Qiqi, Director Hu is here to help us!” The young man behind the counter nervously says, “Sorry about that, thank you for coming on such short notice, if Baizhu finds out we’ve lost merchandise while he’s away in Sumeru…”

“Don’t sweat it!” Hu Tao laughs, entirely unphased, “Now would you or the zombie mind telling me what’s going on here?”

“...zombie?” Just when things couldn’t get any more confusing; you fear your eyes might quite literally pop out of your head.

Zhongli nods, “Indeed, through the power of the adepti, Qiqi was resurrected, though zombies cannot function in the same manner as a mortal–”

“And it’s still outside of the natural order, but we have more important matters to deal with today!”

The Director urges the gentleman behind the counter to finish his explanation of the mysterious occurrences that have been going on within the pharmacy. You try your best to pay attention, though you still have a myriad of questions regarding this newfound information about zombies.

“Well, it started a day or two after Baizhu had left for Sumeru…”

He goes on to explain how their daily inventory numbers no longer match up with the amount of ingredients they’re using in their medicines – ingredients like milk and lavender melons are missing in excess.

“The milk isn’t as big of a deal, but we just had the lavender melons imported from Inazuma and we don’t have another shipment scheduled for a few weeks…” Perspiration settles on the young man’s forehead, his eyes frantically darting between all of you, “There haven't been any strange visitors either, so it has to be the work of a ghost!”

“Milk, you say?” Zhongli grasps his chin between two fingers, appearing lost in thought, “Sir, have you considered asking the only other employee who has access to the back of your store?”

He shakes his head, “Qiqi likes coconut milk, remember–”

“No coconut milk, we ran out. I drink the other milk instead.”

There’s silence for a solid ten seconds, before the one gentleman asks, “What about the lavender melons then?”

“I ate them.”

Silence again.

“Well would ya look at that! We solved the issue in less than five minutes. The Wangsheng Funeral Parlor continues to exceed people’s expectations.” Hu Tao claps before deviously rubbing her palms together, “I hope that you will hold yourself to your end of our contract now, yes?”

While the young man meticulously counts a large sum of Mora, you take a glance over at Zhongli and say, “So…that’s it?”

“I suppose so,” he muses, letting out a light chuckle. “Not nearly as exciting as witnessing a ghost, I presume?”

“Actually, I think I can live the rest of my life without seeing a ghost, thanks.”

“Ghosts aren’t that scary! I’ll introduce one to you next time.” Hu Tao turns on her heels, a decent-sized bag of Mora between her polished fingernails, “I’m heading to Wanmin for some dinner, I’ll catch ya later Zhongli!”

She then flickers her gaze onto you, “It was a pleasure to meet you! Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

With that, she’s off. Rushing down the stairs before either of you could respond. After wishing both Qiqi and the rather perturbed young man a good rest of their day, the both of you descend the large staircase, too.

“I’m assuming this ghost hunt was the last thing on your agenda today?” You ask, assuming that if Zhongli had more work on his plate he’d have long since left for the funeral parlor already.

“You would be correct,” he agrees, “I had not anticipated that we would solve their issue within such a short span of time…it’s a tad comical, wouldn’t you think–”

He cuts himself off suddenly, reaching towards you until his fingers hook under the straps of your tote that had begun to roll down your arm. You can only stand in place as he drags it back up and settles it onto your shoulder once more.

“Wow I didn’t even notice…thank you, I’d hate if anything happened to my Kamera the one time I bring it with me.”

“Oh? I recall you mentioning that you own one of those fascinating devices.” Zhongli appears intrigued at the mention of it, eager to see it for himself.

So you slip your hand into your bag, grabbing tightly onto the Kamera and exposing it to his curious stare, “I was actually thinking about taking some photos with it today…would you maybe want to join me?”

“I’d love to,” that tender smile returns to his lips, “though I’m not entirely aware of how they work.”

“My father told me it’s like painting on a canvas, only you can capture any moment in seconds instead of hours. I mostly like taking photos of flowers, though, oh and wildlife.”

Zhongli absorbs the newfound knowledge, listening intently before responding with, “The Yujing Terrace is home to a few native species of flora, allow me to guide us there.”

Once you agree, the two of you are off, walking towards another set of stairs opposite of Bubu Pharmacy. While following his lead your mind begins to wander, more specifically in regards to your aforementioned father. The man who gifted you this Kamera in the first place.

He had gone out of his way to procure one for you a few months after you saw one in use for the first time on a trip to the capital. Citizens were lining the narrow streets to have their portrait taken with the brand-new, exclusive Kamera and shops who were fortunate enough to sell them did so at a fortune.

After relentless pleading on your end, tied together with the promise of taking on extra responsibilities, the device was very soon in your own palms. Funny how only another few months would pass and you’d choose to abandon both your duties and your home altogether.

You start to wonder if the letter you received from Fontaine might be specifically from your father, or someone else from your family’s estate. Ever since the evening you received it, the letter remains tossed aside on your kitchen counter.

If it is in fact your father’s penmanship that decorates the pages, you can already gather what its contents will entail. The same way you begged for the Kamera, he’ll beg for you to return home.

If only it were that easy, if only returning home didn’t equate to tossing aside your freedom in the process–

Thud!

Having been so lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed that Zhongli stopped in his tracks, not until you collide directly into his back of course. Your complexion blooms with warmth, taking a step back from the tall male just as he turns to face you, asking, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, sorry, I was a bit distracted, sorry about that.” You attempt to wave him off, laughing through the waves of embarrassment.

Unconvinced, his concerned visage never wavers. Rather his eyebrows draw tighter together as he lays a gloved palm over your shoulder, “I won’t pry, but if you require someone to provide an ear, I’m happy to oblige.”

“Thank you, I’ll uh…I’ll keep that in mind,” your fingers curl against the Kamera that you fortunately hadn’t dropped in your daze as Zhongli allows his arm to fall back at his side, remembering the whole reason the two of you trekked up here in the first place.

Glancing around, you take quick notice of how secluded this upper level of Liyue Harbor feels in comparison to the busy main street of Feiyun Slope and the rambunctious crowds of Chihu Rock, “Are you sure we’re allowed to be up here?”

The dark-haired male in front of you chuckles before answering, “Yes, you’ll find that Yuehai Pavilion only truly sees heavy traffic when the Tianquan holds her occasional auctions or the Qixing gather for their regularly scheduled meetings. Prior to Rex Lapis’ death, citizens would also congregate here for the Rite of Descension.”

“Rite of Descension?”

He nods, explaining further, “Once a year, Rex Lapis would provide the people of Liyue with a prophecy, a guide if you will of the economic path the people should follow.”

“There’s so much tradition and history in Liyue…” You say more so to yourself. Of course, your nation has its own history, but it feels barren in comparison to all that you’ve learned already from Zhongli.

“For the record,” he captures your attention again, “If you ever find yourself uninterested, feel free to interrupt me. I will not take any offense.”

A frown settles on your lips at his words – though you’ve never been one to dwell too heavily into the subject in the past, you have yet to grow tired of listening to history from the highly knowledgeable consultant.

“I…like listening to you talk actually…” You admit in a quiet murmur, but you know he hears you when a rather large smile overtakes his features.

“That’s quite a relief, I’ve often been told that I put others to sleep when I ramble on about what many consider to be…boring topics.”

Further digging yourself into a hole of abashment, you say, “It’s not boring when it’s coming from you.”

“Ah, you flatter me too much…” Zhongli appears amused, “I am well aware it is not everyone’s cup of tea, but I appreciate your kind words nonetheless.”

It’s not long after that he guides you towards a section of well-manicured grass with colorful flora blooming along it. You first look at the small red bushes, noticing a pair of puffy, pink flowers protruding from them.

Just as you angle your Kamera towards the beautiful arrangement, Zhongli begins to explain what exactly you’re photographing, “These are Silk Flowers, one of many flora native to Liyue. They’re often used to create fabric, though most of that manufacturing is done by the Feiyun Commerce Guild.

“I’ve also been told that they make for a rather saccharine concoction when cooked with Sweet Flowers.”

The shutter of your camera clicks twice and you watch as the printing paper slowly slides out from the small opening at the bottom of the device. You know it takes a moment for the image to fully appear on the special parchment, but Zhongli stares at the blank results with a slight, albeit cute, pout, “Is the device malfunctioning?”

“No, nothing like that, it just takes a few minutes for the photo to show up.”

“Interesting…” He examines the slowly developing photo after you hand one over, gold eyes ignited with innate fascination.

The next flower your eyes land on is on the opposite side of the color spectrum – a pair of soft blue tones decorate the petals of this closed-off plant. While aiming the lens, you quickly learn of this one’s origin, too.

“Glaze Lilies once inhabited the plains of Liyue in great numbers until they were overpicked due to their beauty. The ones that appear to bloom in this harbor are artificially planted; only very few of them can be found within the wild anymore.”

You watch as Zhongli leans over and plucks the Glaze Lily out of the earth, spinning the flower’s stem between his fingers as he examines it further, “One might believe that these are real at first appearance, but the smell is slightly off.”

“The smell? Have you…seen a real one before?” It shouldn’t surprise you at all, but if they’re as rare as he states, you can only imagine the price one would have to pay to get their hands on one.

“A long time ago, yes,” he continues to examine the artificial flower with an unreadable, yet soft expression.

Click!

Zhongli glances up to find the Kamera pointed in his direction as the device slowly pushes out the eventual photograph. A sense of realization washes over you, an apology immediately tumbling from your lips, “Sorry, I should have asked you first–”

“I don’t mind, I’m quite curious to see the results, actually.”

Those results, along with the other photographs you’ve taken this afternoon, wind up fully developing within the next five minutes. By that point, the two of you decided to find a nearby bench to sit on as you watch the color bloom onto the unique paper.

“Truly remarkable,” Zhongli comments as he holds the array of photos between his fingers, “What a wonderful way of capturing memories, I imagine many historians would be interested in such a device as well to preserve and document their findings…”

“In Fontaine, they’re mostly used to photograph friends and family, at least that’s how they advertised it in the capital. It’s so much faster than standing for a painter.” You mention – remembering the gross sweat you broke out in having to dress in multiple layers of your finest clothing for a family portrait.

Although nothing can compare to the artistic styling of one’s own caliber, not having to pose for hours on end is a definite plus in your books.

“Oh, do you want to try using–”

The moment you put the question out there, Zhongli’s already nodding with an unexpected zeal, “I’d love to, after a lesson on how to properly use it, of course.”

You give a quick explanation of the Kamera, watching him fiddle with it between his fingers as you teach him of each component.

Bringing the device up to his complexion to peek through the small, square hole, he immediately points it in your direction and before you even realize–

Click!

“Wait! I didn’t know you were gonna take a photo of me!” You shout, already fearing the results, “I would have smiled or something!”

Zhongli chuckles, grabbing the paper from the Kamera that will eventually have your complexion plastered all over it, “It’s only fair you took one of me earlier, no?”

“Okay, fine.” He laughs once more at the narrowed glance you send his way.

Although you wish for this afternoon to never end, the feeling of your stomach churning in hunger grounds you in reality, “I…should probably get home now and make some dinner, thank you for joining me today, I had fun.”

“It is my honor and as I’ve stated once before, I thoroughly enjoy your company.” Zhongli stands from the bench after handing you back the Kamera, holding out a gloved palm to aid you in standing, too, “Allow me to walk you home.”

As the two of you travel from one end of Liyue Harbor to the other, your mind goes back to your previous thoughts of your family, more specifically the unopened letter. All this talk of Fontaine and your past has you undoubtedly a tad homesick, but you fear that the letter might just play into that.

You continue to teeter back and forth on your decision all the way to your home where Zhongli bids you a good night, promising to bring another book for you to borrow the next time he comes by your job. As he walks off towards the funeral parlor, you notice he takes something out of his pocket to glance down at, but you can’t tell from such a distance what exactly it is.

Once within the confines of your home, you head straight towards the letter that’s gathered a light coat of dust in the week it sat in place. With shaky fingertips, you bite the bullet and remove the royal blue seal, unfolding the paper and gazing down at the handwriting that decorates the page. Here we go…you think, beginning to read the words laid out in front of you.

To My Dearest Child,

I beg of you, please come home…

#zhongli x reader #genshin x reader #zhongli x you #n.writings

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