#but to make long story short: i finally got a job :'D

[midnight-in-town]

About Yor: she isn’t dense, but most likely indoctrinated by Garden

So I wanted to address this for a long while now, because I’ve seen one too many posts talking about Yor like she’s just an aloof assassin who doesn’t care about things outside her direct environment, which is why sometimes she says dense things. 

I’m well aware that she’s a fan favorite so people don’t mean her harm, yet I think the whole story actually hints at way more than her being dense, especially considering her background and who she still works for. 

In other words, since Yor was trained but also half raised by Garden’s leader, the Shopkeeper, it’s likely that, considering how they operate and what they’re about, they instilled in her a conditioned dependency since childhood or teenage years that would make her unable to learn things on her own without asking for their opinion, making it very hard for her to turn against them ever. 

Want a striking example? Her encounter with Melinda Desmond. 

Not only did she not know who Melinda was (but I mean, that at least could be understandable)...

...but she also didn’t know what a First Lady is. 

Sure, it’s funny on first glance, but after thinking about it, what does it betray? That Garden probably made sure over years Yor would never get the slightest basic info and understanding on what politics of this country are all about. Because if their strong soldiers start to get opinions of their own, then they could start disagreeing with Garden and turning on them. So, “let’s prohibit people having free thinking, so that they can remain good little pawns” as we “fight for peace in our country”.

In fact, for Yor, until a short time ago (when she met Loid and Anya), all she did was thought and decided for her by Garden and, to this day, she still voluntarily asks them for their agreement when she opens up her close circle little by little: she asked them if it was okay to marry Loid and then she asked them if it was okay to befriend Melinda. 

To be honest, that’s a scary ass thought process to envision, when Yor’s an independent working lady well into her 20s, but this shows how deep Garden’s indoctrination runs in Yor, since they got hold of her as a child/young teen. 

Another striking example is the way she always describes her job, in an almost childish way. Her nickname “thorn princess” aside, I always found it interesting that Yor’s aware she’s an assassin but she isn’t morally anguished at all about killing people and never mentions or distinguishes any grey area in her missions. In fact...

... it’s all in black and white and she clearly thinks that the people she kills are all evildoers (which as we saw in the recent arc with the Red Circus isn’t always the case and begs the rhetorical question “why does Garden get to decide who’s evil?”), therefore “she’s not doing anything wrong”, which also pretty much betrays how she was pushed into it. 

Long ago, Garden probably baited Yor with Yuri’s protection and told her that, since they’re “about peace”, Yor’s work would just help them to “fight against evil”. As a child, she wasn’t mentally fit to understand the deeper implications and then she was mentally conditioned to always do and think like Garden tells her to, which promotes this systematic childish description of her assassin’s job. 

Finally, please take notice of the Shopkeeper’s reaction the first time she tries to argue about her work, in the ship arc: 

Enough said, Garden’s awful. I’m sure there are more examples throughout the story, but I now want to talk about future character development. 

After all, since the story obviously calls for Yor to ditch Garden, to protect what’s actually important to her (Yuri, Loid and Anya), we actually do see her changing little by little so far, thanks to her living with Loid and Anya. Her coworkers quickly mentioned that she’s more lively ever since she got married and the ship arc overall emphasizes that her family is starting to become more important to her than her job, so there is high hope for Yor. :D

Additionally, while she’s still far away from noticing that Garden mentally drove her into a corner, she now openly voices her concerns that “she’s not normal” but that she wants to understand why in order to learn how to change. 

To be fair, fighting against indoctrination is tough and takes time so I’m very proud of her for slowly realizing that she ought to decide for herself from now on. :D 

TL;DR Yor is not dense. She was indoctrinated as a child by Garden and can only (for now) see the world through the filters they taught her. 

Ironically enough, the only character who knows about her real job and could, thus, notice that Yor isn’t being critical about Garden...... actually can’t because she’s a four year old who is too young to understand that Mama’s job is wrong. Well done, Endo-sensei!

#Spy x Family #yor forger #anya forger #loid forger #yuri briar #melinda desmond #garden #shopkeeper #sxf theory #my analysis

[trashmouth-richie]

masterlist

eddie x fem reader

chapter summary: how sweet it is, to be loved.

series summary: You were desperate for a roommate after Nancy got married and moved out. An ad in the paper goes unanswered until someone comes knocking on the door.

special thanks: to anyone and everyone who read a single chapter or kept up with this series to the end, thank you so much- this story wouldn’t be possible without your support.

author’s note: I can’t believe this is the final chapter for this series, I’m feeling so many emotions right now but mostly just love for Eddie and Tooty and everything in between. Thank you to anyone who has helped me beta ( @sweetsweetjellybean especially!)this story or fan girled with me over upcoming chapters. To any of the very talented artists who have made any art for this series, thank you so very much, each and every piece holds such a special place in my heart. To anyone who is mentioned in this story, thank you so so much, @loveshotzz @chechelia @carolmunson @mopeymopeymouse and everyone else— thank you for allowing me to include you in this series. To everyone who has liked, rb’d left a comment or interacted in any way with this series— THANK YOU. This series has brought such joy & heartache to me, and I’m so lucky to have people enjoy it. 🖤

Cereal

Hotdogs

Bananas

Jelly —grape, not strawberry

Bread

Crackers 

Toothpaste 

Noodles 

Chicken thighs— babe are you making fun of me?

Heartburn medicine

You tap the chewed cap of your pen along the lined paper of a scribble heavy grocery list. Desperately wishing you had x-ray vision to see inside your cabinets and remember what you were in need of, you chew the cap again.

Giggling to yourself every so often at Eddie’s notes on the grocery list. Crossing off items he thought weren’t needed, mostly vegetables he didn’t like. And always making sure you got his favorites. And not, “that healthy bullshit cereal, give me sugar or kill me babe, I will not eat Raisin Bran” 

Peanut butter 

Sunny D

Thyme 

Heavy cream

Basil

Carrots

Onions

Chicken stock

Hey sweetheart can you please get me some candy? I like skittles but you know I love m&ms.. and twizzlers, it’s for the shop. :) 

The lady behind the desk chirps a name again, but you are still racking your brain on what else was needed. The soup you had planned on making tonight would be perfect for the chilly weather rolling in. November was coming in like a lion, ferociously cold and temperatures already dipping below zero. 

Eddie loved your potato soup, so much that he begged you to make it after another long, grisly week at the shop. 

He loved everything you made, even your chili that he doctored up by adding sour cream and Doritos to it. Bon Appetit he would say with a smirk on his lips, a heaping bowl steaming in front of him. 

The clerk behind the desk tutted and huffed, the schedule was getting behind.  

“Tooty Munson! Is there a Tooty Munson here?”

You glance up quickly at the sound of your name, “shit,” you breathe, “here, yes,” you scramble shoving the list and pen into your purse, buried amongst the gum wrappers and a spilled container of tic-tacs. 

The receptionist clicks her papers against the formica counter and holds her nose in the air, as if this job and you were beneath her. 

“He’s ready for you now.”

—-

“…alright, Ed, did ya look o’er those applications yet? ‘Tween you D and Mike I don’t think we are going to be able to keep up everything that we got on the schedule.” 

Wayne’s eyebrows are raised as he looks over the bifocals perched on his nose. He had been scouring over the schedules and the books for the better half of the afternoon since lunch hour—trying to figure out how to swing their overloaded schedule. 

It wasn’t that they couldn’t do the work, they were simply short handed. After Boom closed his doors  in Hawkins, he had recommended to his regulars that they travel to Bridgeport to Master Mechanics to see Eddie and Wayne. Business was booming, and the Munson’s could barely keep up.

Early on, Wayne and Eddie decided they would only be open until noon on Saturday’s but now with the packed schedule, they worked til almost dark every night of the week, including some Sundays.

Wayne rubs his short nails through his scratchy mostly white scruff, “we can’t have these boys workin’ like this, they’ll quit on us before you can slap a tick.”

Eddie was leaning against the doorway, a bottle of Coca Cola held limp in his hand, a greasy rag stuffed in his back pocket. 

“Yeah,” he yawns, stretching out his back, “let’s hire ‘em all, we need the extra hands, or I’m gonna need an extra back.”

Wayne grunts in confirmation. The highlighter squeaks as it’s drug across the phone numbers on the applications, “I’ll call ‘em first thing in the morning,” he straightens up his desk and shoves the papers into a drawer. 

His glasses clink as he folds them up and lays them next to a picture of the newlywed Munson’s. He leans back in his chair, the leather crinkling beneath his worn coveralls, “I’m callin’ it for the day,” he exhaled, staring up at the ceiling, “it’s been one helluva week and I’m shot, tell the boys to go home to their wives.” 

“and you too,” he points, “go take care of your wife, Ed, tell her I hope she starts to feelin’ better.” 

Eddie’s curls bounce as he nods his head, completely drained from the week, shit maybe he was getting sick too? “she went to the doctor today, probably just the flu, Max told her it was going around.” 

“Well then,” Wayne says, standing up and clicking off the table lamp, “take tomorrow off and rest–

both of ya, hear me?” 

“Don’t need to tell me twice.” 

—

Eddie’s tires crunch on the ice and hard packed snow of the driveway, a silent serenity, meaning he is only moments away from holding you in his arms, seconds away from kissing your lips, and if he was lucky, minutes from eating something delicious to fill his grumbling stomach. 

He throws the truck into neutral, killing the engine and tossing the keys around his finger. Tracks from your Jeep tires lead into the garage he had built last spring. A huge project that your friends were paid in beer and a bonfire when it was all finished. 

Thrusting his sore hands into his canvas coat, he ducked his chin into the zipper and braved the asthma inducing gust of wind to the front door as it whipped through his curls. 

The house was oddly quiet, only the hum of the refrigerator making any sort of sound. Usually when he came home you’d be playing the radio, or talking on the phone to Max or Nancy, greeting him with a pop of your head around the wall in the kitchen or from the hallway, the prettiest smile put on your lips. 

“Princess?” he called out in endearment as he untied his boots and put them on the shoe rack. His coatwas already hanging on its hook, usually next to your purse but your purse was thrown onto the arm chair, and your shoes were in the hallway like you had walked right out of them. 

He undid the buttons of his work blues, letting them hang at his waist like a mechanic cape. Socked feet trudge down the carpeted hallway, you must not be feeling any better, probably too exhausted to make it out of bed.

But Eddie was wrong.

You were perched on top of the comforter, coat still on but unzipped staring at the door waiting for his arrival, fuzzy socks on your wiggling toes. 

“Hey, handsome,” you said, trying to keep your pitch even. 

“There’s my girl,” his velvet voice wrapping around you like a hug as he crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, reaching for your left hand and kissing the finger that adorned the prettiest ring he’d ever bought, “how’s my beautiful wife?” 

It had been five months since you said I do. A June wedding in your own backyard, filled with friends who had served as family for years, gathered by your sides. 

“I forgot the potatoes,” you say blankly, a weird little smile on your face. 

Eddie sits down next to you, rubbing your thigh back and forth and letting out an exhausted yawn, “That’s alright, I can make us some grilled cheese if you’re up for—”

“I was looking at my grocery list, and couldn’t remember what I’d forgot.”

Eddie’s confused, but wants to reassure you that its no big deal, he’s a grown man he can certainly make supper for himself and his wife. “Sweetheart it’s okay, don’t beat yours—“

“Can’t make potato soup without potatoes.” And this time you laugh, kind of whimsically and in disbelief. 

His brows turn inward, still he just keeps reassuring you that everything is fine, “It’s okay Tooty, seriously. Let me go make you some—”

And for the third time tonight, you interrupted him, “doctor said that’s normal.”

He’s exhausted and is honestly more confused than he would like to admit, “what? The flu?” 

“No, no. “ you say, a twisted little smirk on your face, “forgetting things, throwing up in the morning, being exhausted… totally normal.” 

“Babe?” He moves to touch the back of his hand to your head, wincing when he realizes that he’s probably freezing.

“I was so scared the last time,” you whisper, teary eyed, “terrified.. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but now—.”

Eddie reaches for your cheeks, holding them softly, his eyes searching yours, desperate to figure out what the hell is going on, “what am I missing here? It’s normal to have… the flu?” 

“No, it’s not the flu,” you finally admit, looking up at him and rubbing the back of his hands with your thumbs, 

“Eddie, I’m pregnant.”

— 

You could fill an empty pool up from the tears that sprung from Eddie’s eyes that night. He was overjoyed, holding you tight while he wept into your hair. Kissing your belly and whispering to the baby. Small streaks of tears flowing down your swollen skin and the faded scar across your lower belly. 

Each month that ticked by, Eddie’s worry only doubled. 

The day after you had found out, he woke early. Watching as your chest rose and fell as you slept soundly in the original mock up of his hellfire shirt.

It was threadbare, cotton worn so thin it was practically see through— but you claimed it as your own back in the early days of your new relationship, hands on your hips and the infamous pout on your lip as you playfully argued with him about how it was now yours. 

Dusk painted the diamond covered ground from the fresh snow over night. Falling as delicately as his lips allover your skin. Soaking up the dainty noises from your throat when he carefully slid into you, tears spilling from both of your eyelashes, love filling the room more sweetly than it ever had before. 

The soft cotton of the blankets hugged your curves, and he exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he gazed down at his beautiful— now pregnant— wife. 

His sweet Tooty, carrying a gift more precious than gold. 

Kissing your cheek—he dressed quietly, scribbling a note on the bedside table about going into town for a bit, but to just relax in bed until he got home. 

-

You were having a dreamless sleep, not even sugarplums could dance in your head with the overwhelming exhaustion that your body was trying desperately to catch up from. 

Something cold then silky smooth brushed against your cheek, and a velvet voice sang a little good morning greeting into your ear. Your loving husband. Pressing sweet angel kisses behind your ear and on your eyelids. 

Your bedroom was lit with the glow of a warm sun in the afternoon light. Playing a yellowed hue of warmth across your comforter, pulling the caramel color from Eddie’s curls and making his eyes look like a dreamy cup of coffee swirling with creamer. 

His lips hug yours, both smiling into one another. Heart swelling more than your toes would in the months to come. 

C’mon, got a surprise for you, princess. 

The spare bedroom that was once a room for band equipment, then Max’s bedroom for almost a year before she eventually moved in with Gareth and Will, now held storage, was completely organized, and held a wide array of items. 

A crib, brand new and still in the box, a pack n play, a swing, every box of diapers ranging from size 1 - 5, baby gates, outlet covers, fancy locks for cabinets and drawers, rubber bumpers for sharp corners and edges of tables. 

A bookshelf full of baby books, how to’s for new parents, nursery rhymes by mother goose, books suggesting baby names and their meanings, and a guide on how to quit smoking. 

Tucked into the corner of the room by the bookshelf and near the window, was a rocking chair. 

 “Eddie,” you gasp, running sleep from your eyes, “wh-what is all of this?” 

He’s smiling ear to ear, trying to curb his enthusiasm a tiny bit. “I might have gotten a little carried away.” 

Turning towards the shelf you see a plastic sack, full of candy and bubble gum, and mints. “Edward Joseph Munson.” 

“Don’t scold me, mama,” he jokes, grabbing onto your hips and kissing your hairline, “I’m just spoiling our baby.”

God you loved this man, he’d break his neck to give you the world. He was the most loving husband, and now you got to see him step into a new role. One completely foreign to you both, only have shared the idea for a few moments before it was ripped away. 

You lean into him, holding him tight and working your nose into the crook of his neck. “You’re gonna be the best dad, Eddie.”

He doesn’t hide the tear that slips down his cheek, just lets it slide and collect under his chin, his voice is quiet when he asks, “you really think so?”

“I know it.”

—

Wayne and Karen followed behind the new family in his pickup all the way home from the hospital. They were going to stay for a few days, help you both get adjusted to life as parents.

Karen and Nancy had filled your freezer with casseroles, soups and fresh bread. It was a hot July day when you were scheduled for the c section, and when it was all said and done four days in the hospital was more than enough and you were ready to be at home, snuggled up with your new family. 

It was a battle of which Munson man could shed the most tears. Eddie and Wayne were both wiping away tears for hours. Overjoyed with emotions that everyone was healthy. 

“No you don’t,” Wayne said as you reached for the back door to grab the diaper bag, “you go right inside and get comfy, get them legs up!”

You do as your told, leaving Wayne, Eddie and Karen to carry the load in. The hospital stay was overwhelmingly sweet, but you knew Eddie was itching to get back to normalcy, still not liking the way he felt cooped up in the hospital even though it had been years since you both had the horrifying visit. 

Bags and suitcases are carried in and set into your master bedroom to be unpacked later, bottles and diapers are stacked and put into their respectable places. Karen starts warming up the chicken casserole she had prepared earlier that day. Wayne fussed around with the new dishwasher that he and Eddie had installed the month prior. 

Throughout the commotion you had fallen asleep, legs propped up in the recliner, but you woke to the sound of the front door closing, and there he was.

Eddie was holding them both, large hands cocooned around their swaddled little bodies, crooked into each of his arms. Something he was nervous about but slowly getting the hang of, the nurses told him he was a natural, and Wayne wept into Karen’s shoulder when Eddie introduced the twins to their grandpa. 

His normal obnoxious voice was murmuring low and quiet like a soft lullaby so as not to stir awake the sleeping little babies. 

He looked at them both, adoration and tears springing into his eyes. He had never seen anything more beautiful in his entire life. How he could have helped make something so small and delicate, he wouldn’t understand. But, he didn’t need to. 

A boy, born first— with his dark eyes and brown hair, and later the little girl, almost identical to his Tooty, and just as stubborn, both already wrapped around his fingers.

He murmured their names, and caught your eye as he said it, a smile so wide on his face that you were sure new dimples would bust through his cheeks, and you only heard the end of what he was saying. 

If you would have told yourself five years ago that you would one day own a home, get married to and have twins with Eddie Munson, you would have laughed on the spot. That loud mouth jackass of a guy you had once regretted letting move into your home, had moved right into your heart and never left. 

The demons inside you both were finally at bay, finding solace in one another in more ways than you had thought possible. Being loved by Eddie was everything you had thought love should be like. 

And you pinch yourself to make sure it's real, and each and every time, it is. 

“…babies,” he says, a smile on his lips and tears in his eyes as he looks over at you, his family, “we’re home.” 

The end

♡tag list: @dashingdeb16 @emxxblog @pretendthisnameisclever @mommybaby-witch @eddies-acousticguitar @tlclick73 @figmentofquinn @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @whenshelanded @micheledawn1975 @3rd-conchord * @leelei1980 @browneyes8288 @emilyslutface @mmunson86 @josephquinnsfreckles @eddiesxangel @elegantkoalapaper * @str4ngergirlw0rld * @corrodedcoffincumslut @nailbatanddungeon @crybabyddl @zenathebeautiful @astela17 @taintedcigs @bettyfrommars @munsonsuccubus @munson-blurbs @hollandweather @serasvictoria @steviesgrl @curiositydooropened @ashyyboyy @urlbitchin @sllooney @lame0o @ali-r3n @bangaveragewhitewine @b-irock @enam3l @luxaeterna13 @manda-panda-monium @elthreetimes @joejoequinnquinn

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson fanfic #honey i’m home #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #stranger things

[powerpuffobsession]

As much as I love Adam for a few fun parts of his character and for what he could have been at the hands of a competent writer (as shown by the fanfics where he gets properly developed)...

I feel like he (and the way he's characterised) is what broke Hazbin hotel season 1 pacing, Lucifer's character and the show's overall atmosphere.

(Long and packed rant under the cut, because I've been having these thoughts since I saw season 1, and I want to share them. Viewer discretion is adviced)

Before Adam existed (pilot era) it was all simple and worked more properly: a story about the hotel and its inhabitants, and most importanty, redemption. It was a small snuggly location with a few characters in the center of a plot

Heaven was in the background and kept as a mystery. Moreover, from what we've seen in the pilot, Lucifer was obviously a background villain or at least an anti hero, one of the real obstacles for Charlie to overcome on the way to her goal (instead of a minor inconveniece resolved in a single broadway song)

But when Adam and his weird obsession with murder broke into that perfectly cut out premise, everything just shattered. Too many themes got weaved into the short story of the 8 episodes: Heaven vs Hell politics, overlords, war, Charlie's conflict with Adam, the seraphims...

All of that pushed the hotel and the redemption to the background instead of Heaven.... in a cartoon that's named after the hotel. Because 8 episodes is not enough to talk about politics, a war and a 6 month redemption course (the latter even happened behind the screen with only some verbal hints given about the amazing secretive progress the hotel guests made that we were not allowed to see!)

(Had this cartoon stayed indie, there would have been a possibility of making more episodes and tackling more themes properly. But big name broadway actors are more important than that, it appears)

Back to Adam.

He is not even a good villain. He really should have been more of a background antihero. Give the man some sedatives, for f's sake! Where did all that rabidity even come from, after centuries of living in Heaven? Honestly, he'd be expected to act calmer and wiser than how he actually did, especially with how old he is (as old as the earth itself). But instead it's like he got frozen in a state of a dumb jock bully from high school

Imagine if Adam allowed Charlie and her hotel guests to prove that redemption is possible, out of principle, or curiosity. Hell, maybe even allow him to threaten to kill them, but not straight away! Later, after they fail to prove him wrong! If that's what Adam's role had been, the hotel part would have gotten time to breathe and more spotlight

All Adam did in the series, was:

1. make a lot of excessive noise

2. do dumbass things (and it wasn't even explained WHY he's the way he is, not even a single flashback or his own musings and thoughts shown, which makes all of his actions fall flat in every sense)

3. break the remains of logic (Heaven looks plain dumb because of him, not able to tell sinning from non sinning and to judge human souls properly. It's not even corruption, since Adam is not that important or benefitial to Heaven, an actual archangel like Michael could have been leading exorcists in his place and do a better job.... it's just stupidity)

And then Adam just died, for nothing and with no consequences.

I mean, straight after Adam's death Lucifer is immediately trying to divert the viewer's attention: "who wants pancakes? :D". It's like the cartoon itself doesn't care that the first human, one of the most mysterious beings in vivzieverse and someone who badly needed a second chance and therapy, just died. By a very stupid joke too (Niffty didn't even have to stab him).

In short, Adam's plotline is a huge waste of screen time...

And while his final smile to Lute may give us some hints that there's something good inside Adam, but it's more akin to mockery. Since we were never shown that there's more to Adam besides "the main character's opponent=ultimate bad"

And of course Lucifer was retconned into a pathetic uwu boi, who's depression and "silliness" have overshadowed the fact that he practically doomed humanity to a life full of pain, suffering and surviving and took away Adam and Eve's home. We don't even get the slightest glimpse of what exactly Lucifer DREAMED of that was so important to force him to do the humans dirty. Meaning it was something abstract and not thought-through anyway.

(Free will my ass.. Adam and Lilith did as they pleased in Eden without the free will, Adam ordering his wives around, Lilith being able to defy him and Eve being able to disobey God. What good did "free will" from that fruit even do them? If anything, it only did harm to everyone)

And so now this daft egotist is being portrayed as this selfless harmless character only for the sake of contrasting the painfully obvious bad evil that Adam is.

That comes off as black and white writing, fit more for a childrens cartoon, despite the show critisizing Adam for thinking in black and white terms. Not a good look

#hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #anti lucifer

[companionjones]

Road Trips (Back and Forth)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Fandom: The Walking Dead (AMC)

Summary: After four long months, Daryl is finally back in your life.

Warnings: Smut with some plot at the end, Cursing

This is an AU story.

*******

    You woke to the sound of water running. Most people would assume they had an intruder, but you knew it could only be one person. Jumping out of bed, you rushed into your bathroom and shower fully clothed.

    “Daryl--!” you cut yourself off by crashing your lips upon his. It had been four months since you’d last seen him.

    Dixon was lucky enough to practically catch you in his arms before the both of you could go toppling over.

    You had a second to breathe in his scent before Daryl pulled you from him. “I was trying to wash myself of all this dirt and grime before I said ‘hello’ to you,” he stated.

    Shaking your head, you testified, “You should always say hello to me first.” You tugged him downward so you could connect your lips again.

    Daryl let the kiss go on. “God, I missed the taste of ya’.” He moved you so you were pressed against the shower wall. He was squeezing your breasts over your shirt before removing the piece of clothing from the equation entirely, and throwing it over the top of the shower.

    You cried out as Daryl roughly pinched your nipples, but Daryl just swallowed the sound. He roughly pulled down the shorts you’d been wearing, and you stepped out of them as soon as they hit the floor. Daryl threw them in the same direction as your shirt.

    “Oh God, Daryl, please!” you begged breathlessly as you parted from his lips.

    Daryl Dixon was never one to waste time. “You don’t have to ask me twice, baby.”

    You gasped as Daryl picked you up and you circled your legs around him, and you shouted his name as Daryl swiftly entered you.

    “That’s it, babygirl. You always take-me-so-well!” Daryl stated as he started thrusting in and out of you.

    “D-a-r-y-l-!” you sounded out Dixon’s name in harmony with the sound of skin slapping throughout your bathroom. You were holding onto him for dear life.

    “Fuck, that’s it. Fuck, you’re so good for me. That’s my good-little-girl!”

    “Fuck yes! D-daddy, please! Oh, oh God, you feel so good!”

    “Feel good too, princess. Hold on just a little longer. A little longer for Daddy.”

    Your fingers were making marks on his back. “Oh, please, please, please! D-Daryl!” You screamed when you felt his warm semen release inside of you. You felt your eyes almost pop out of your head as your mouth hung open and you came with him.

    As you calmed down, you felt Daryl petting the back of your head and whispering sweet nothings into your ear. “That’s my girl...Did such a good job...Made me cum so hard I nearly fell over.”

    You giggled at that last one.

    “There’s my girl.” He kissed your cheek. “Think we can finish up in here?”

    You chuckled, “That’s if I can stand, Dixon.”

    He smiled at that.

    Yes, you were able to stand (barely), and in no time at all, you had helped Daryl finish his shower, and the two of you were wrapped up in each other’s arms in your bed.

    “How is everyone?” you wondered.

    Daryl went on to tell you that his motorcycle shop he owned a few states away with his best friend Rick Grimes was profiting well. Rick’s wife Michonne had just opened a self-defence dojo for women, and that was going great. Michonne and Rick’s kids: Carl, Judith and RJ were growing into very good people as well. Daryl’s other married friends, Maggie and Glenn, owned a private practice that, Daryl reported, had “just donated an ass-load” of money to charity; and their child, Hershel, had just developed his first crush.

    You had met all of those people the couple of times Daryl had brought you on a road trip to his home, and you all got along famously. You cared very much what was happening in their lives, as you knew they did your life as well.

    Speaking of your life, you were finishing up your college degree. That was cute because you were just starting college when you and Daryl had met while he had been on one of his many road trips. That was cute because since then, none of Daryl’s road trips didn’t involve you.

    “You know,” you began once Daryl was done relaying his friends’ current adventures, “I’m almost done school...I was thinking...once I’m done...I could come back with you?”

    Daryl nodded. “Another trip? Of course. Just tell me when.”

    You shook your head. “Not another trip like the other ones. I’m talking...more permanent...?”

    “You want to come live with me? He said it like he was still unsure if that was what you meant.

    “I do,” you whispered. “I figured it makes sense ‘cuz all your friends are there--” You were cut off when Daryl pulled you into a loving kiss.

    “I love you so much!” he exclaimed, “Of course you should move in with me! I mean, I keep the place pretty crummy, but that was before I knew you were coming. I’ll hire some lady to clean it...what’re you laughin’ at?” Daryl asked with a smile on his face.

    “You. I’m laughing at you,” you happily admitted before rolling on top of him and continuing the kiss.

*******

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, check out my masterlist. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3

#daryl #daryl x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x reader smut #the walking dead #twd #road trips #road trips (back and forth) #norman reedus #companion jones

[hotchlove]

Trustworthy | Reader X Aaron Hotchner

hi!!! welcome to my first one-shot fanfic :) i had a blast writing this and hope u'll have even more fun reading it.

• i take requests! plsss dm me or leave them here if u have anything fun you'd like me to write. it can be angst, anytype of trope, smut, etc. • PLZ NOTE: i ONLY do oneshots. they differ from long to short depending on the character and story. i do not write series! • trustworthy - 3.1k+ words (i got carried away D:) • desc.: - quite a bit of angst - probable inaccurate description of readers job - happy ending ♡

• • • • ~ ʚĭɞ ~ • • • • ~ ʚĭɞ ~• • • • ~ ʚĭɞ ~• • • • ~ ʚĭɞ ~ • • • •

it's been about five or six months since i've joined the behavioral analysis unit in the fbi. it's not like i've been counting the days...

who am i kidding? it's been exactly 191 days - whereas like 2 of those days my boss, SSA Aaron Hotchner, was actually nice to me.

those being my first two shifts.

on the third day, i had to make a spontaneous choice whilst on a case - one that, sure, was reckless and stupid and to quote hotch "unprofessional", but i managed to save many unpredictable lives with that choice.

we were on a case in miami, a state the team hasn't visited yet up until that day.

it was a 3h flight but it was a big case, so those hours flew on by as garcia briefed us. a 36 year old mother recently lost her teenage child to the hands of a drunk and supposedly has had hallucinations of her late child telling her to kill other kids, as revenge, i'm guessing - spooky, right?

i suggested manic schizophrenia - clear symptoms and obvious manic signs (the killings). that suggestion kind of cleared the foggy air on the jet. hotch gave me a nod of approval and i felt pretty damn proud of myself, it was only my third day after all.

on the third and last day, we finally cornered the woman on a traffic free highway. she had no where to run, agents were surrounded all around her - but she was holding a shotgun. the simple way out would've been having one of our federal snipers shoot her - but i couldn't let that happen. she killed the children of many, and letting her die a painless and simple death just didn't feel right.

i swatted the snipers away, the red laser that was planted on her forehead now gone. i throw my gun on the floor and pretend to surrender, hands up. "you remind me of my mother." i tell her, my arms up.

"Y/N." hotch warns me. his eyebrows furrow as he sees me now weaponless, basically staring the shotgun in it's eyes. i don't turn to him, i don't even acknowledge him. "she tried so hard to protect me." i say and walk tiny steps towards the woman, who now walks backwards to avoid me.

"stop! one more move and i-i'll shoot." no she won't. "she basically devoted her life to making sure i remain scratchless and pure." i chuckle.

"well, look how that turned out. i've got scars all over my body and a fun memory to come with all of them." i get even closer to her. "i know how you feel. i know how much you miss him." the woman cries and nods.

"i do. i really do. what did i do wrong?!" she yells and she points the shotgun at me. "i protected him like he was made out of glass, whilst other mothers - bad ones - let their kids wander everywhere alone."

hotch jumps a little seeing the woman point her hefty gun at me. "Y/N. move." he warns, his tone as stern as his expression.

i shake my head but don't look back. "other mothers - bad ones - still have their kids. and mine," her tears fall. "my baby boy got swept off his feet the only time - an exception - when he got to walk home alone from school." she cries.

"you're right. you did everything right," i reassure her and walk even closer, only 10 meters standing between me and the shotgun barrel.

"except you forgot one thing," i scoff. "teaching him to grow the fuck up."

bang.

the gun drops to the floor shortly after she shoots. morgan runs towards her, putting the metal cuffs on her wrist. he reads her rights and takes her to the sheriffs wagon that was parked just 2 minutes away.

the bullet didn't hit me - she had no idea how to take an accurate shot. god, she barely even held that shotgun - the weight of it almost holding her instead of the other way around.

"agent Y/L/N!" hotch runs towards me, i pick myself up. "we got he-" i get interrupted by him. "what is wrong with you?!" he yells.

"are you actually insane? i gave you a direct order to move. do you think of me as a fool?" he yells, his voice basically growling.

"excuse me? i just basically handed her to you." i say, offended he's yelling at me for doing my job. "and in the process you almost got your head blown off." he's even angrier as i talk back.

"head blown off?" i scoff. "hotch, the woman couldn't even hit a giant red target if she tried. it was a risk i had to ta-" he interrupts me again.

"no- no, agent. it wasn't. you put your life on the line to appear macho infront of everyone here." he puts his pistol in it's holder and crosses his arms, taking slow but sure steps towards me. "you took control of the case like you're a veteran - but actually, you're just a rookie that will probably quit in the span of 2 months because you'll realise you can't do this." he growls again. that one hurt. "badge and gun. you're flying back to quantico tonight. i'll put in a request for a two week suspension as soon as i am back." he holds out his hand, waiting for me to hand him my gun and badge. my eyebrows furrow. "what?" my mouth parts - speechless. "you can't be serious." i say, unsure if he is. he's silent for an entire minute.

so he is serious. i give in - i have to, he's my boss, so i hand him my badge and my gun. without saying anything, i walk away. leaving the crime scene, wasn't authorized to be there anymore anyway. and ever since that day, 188 days ago, aaron hotchner has got it in for me.

--

everyones sitting in the briefing room except me and garcia. i walk in 2 minutes late and excuse myself, "sorry, lost track of time." JJ nods and hotch says "you own a watch, don't you, agent?" his angry expression once again tainting his face.

god i'd pay a ridiculous amount of money to punch him just once. "yes, sir. will not happen again." i reassure.

no one calls hotch sir except me. it's kind of a unspoken rule - the others are close to him, which i am not. which i will probably never be, considering he still judges my mistake as a way to not trust me with anything.

garcia walks in just a minute after me "sorry, guys, kevin was blabbing and blabbing and i could not get him to shut up." she says and smiles awkwardly. "it's fine" hotch says. "everyone's allowed to be late - once." he raises an eyebrow and looks at me.

just one punch.

JJ briefs us on the case and tells us the local police department doesn't want us there - so she's going to have to convince them, which can take a day or two. i don't mind - i was honestly not in the mood for a flight today. everyone goes back to their every day business. files, reports, coffee and smalltalk in the kitchen - or for morgan and garcia, friendly flirting in her office.

me and spencer are both stirring a fresh cup of good ol' joe in the kitchen, talking - or well, he's talking - about some new physics crap. i just nod and pretend i understand.

the color of the beige wall behind him looks particularly interesting today. he keeps explaining and suddenly goes "BOOM!" his hands wide and i jump a little at the noise - spilling coffee all over my pink blouse. i look at him annoyed, "oh my god. i will murder you." he can't contain his laugh and bursts, "i was just demonstrating!" then goes running out of the kitchen before i can get to him. i sigh and look at my now brown blouse - this would be awfully devastating if i didn't have a go-bag. i place my almost empty mug in the kitchen sink and head towards my tabe - emily giving me a curious stare. "what happened to you?" she scoffs, "physics." i reply and take my go-bag, fishing out the only blouse i have - a white one.

emily just nods at my remark and goes back to her file as if it was the most normal thing ever. considering it's me - it probably was. i change in the ladies room and scrunch my coffee splattered blouse into a ball. standing infront of my mirror i realise how see-through this blouse is - especially with a pink bra that i wore just for the pink blouse. "you have got to be kidding me." my eyes widen. it's really not that bad, but it's noticeable. so noticeable HR might force us all into a "appropriate clothing" seminar tomorrow. i really don't have much of a choice so i walk out like that, hoping or praying no one notices. my hope is diminished when i meet garcia in the bullpen, holding her palm to her hand so she doesn't burst out laughing. "not a word, garcia." i look at her, my eyes shooting arrows. thank god for kevin, as he comes and pecks her lips, her surpressed laughter now gone like the wind. saved by the bell. or well, by a kiss. i sit down at my table and keep working on my reports - if i slouch down enough you really can't see it. i'm a great problem solver. a rough, deep voice calls my name from a distance, "agent Y/L/N, my office, please." hotch says standing in his doorway. my head drops in defeat - i really have no luck today. i grab the file i was working on and hold it on my chest, basically hugging it - it makes me look weird but not weirder than having my pink bra open for everyones eyes. i stand infront of his door, mumbling to myself about how i hate my life and knock twice. "come in" hotch says, his eyes glued to his computer. "sir. you wanted to see me?" he nods and tells me to sit down, still not looking up. and so i do, i sit down and keep hugging my file like it's gonna grow legs and walk away. he finally raises his head and looks at me. his eyebrows furrow at the sight of me holding for dear life on the file, "is that for me?" he asks. "huh?" the file. "oh, no- i just really like this file." i smile awkwardly and his mouth parts as if he wanted to say something more, but he doesn't. the embarassement i'm feeling right now could wash half the population off of the earth. "you're gonna have to be transfered to a different unit." he says and coughs, his throat sounding almost dry as he barely speaks that sentence. my eyes widen to 3x their size, "what? but i didn't do-" i take a breath. "i didn't do anything wrong? you're just gonna transfer me? just like this? wh- i don't get it." i rise from my seat not realising i let my file drop. he stares at my chest and then back to my eyes like 10 times till i realise. i heastily grab the file again, sit back down and cover my chest back up, "i spilled coffee on my other blouse." i explain. hotch sighs, "it wasn't my decision. strauss wants you gone." he coughs again. "i tried to convince her, agent." i scoff. sure he did. he was probably the first one to agree to the transfer. "you're joking, right?" i stand up once again, file still in my embrace. "i know you want me gone. i just know you were the first one to agree with strauss decision." i raise my voice slightly. "wanting me gone is one thing, so is transferring me - but lying about it? you're pathetic." hotch's eyebrows furrow. he doesn't seem angry, he just seems.. apologetic? "agent, listen to m-" this time i interrupt him, "i'm done listening," i drop the file on his table "here. it's yours now." i exit his office but notice in my peripheral vision that he stood up, as if wanting to follow me. all eyes are on me and how i storm to my desk, either that or my pink bra. but i don't care. i grab my bag and jacket, my files still scattered around my desk - but they're not mine anymore, so why should i care? "Agent Y/L/N." hotch calls and exits his office, i ignore him and just keep walking. "Y/N." he calls me by my first name now. i notice the elevator is about to leave so i ask the person in it to hold it, a hand splitting the doors as i manage to walk in just in time, aaron standing 10 feet away looking defeated. --

i took a cold shower as soon as i got home to calm my nerves. didn't help much but pretending it did helps. got myself dressed in a large shirt and some raggedy pyjama pants and poured myself a glass of red wine. then another one. i'm reliving today in my thoughts - why did i get fired from the bau? and why did aaron - sorry, hotch - lie? everyone knows he despises me and wanted me gone as soon as possible, and he did so, why lie then? i gulp down another sip of wine and hear a knock at my door. if this isn't the chinese food i ordered i'll be heavily disappointed. i open the door without checking who it is and see hotch standing infront of my apartment door, the arms of his dress shirt folded up to his elbows and his jacket held on his shoulder by his hand. he looks pissed. like always but worse. "what are you doing here? i don't need to transfer to another apartment, do i?" i mock him and cross my arms. "can i come in?" he asks with a stern expression. "why?" i look at him, awaiting an explanation. i'm not just gonna let my asshole boss into my apartment with no plausible reason. "we need to talk. please." his expression changes and my heart breaks a little. i don't know why. i hate him. he's rude and selfish and made me doubt my career. but i let him in anyways. i take a seat on a bar stool at my kitchen island, sipping on my red wine waiting for him to say what he has to say. "i didn't request your transfer. i didn't agree with strauss either." i scoff but he keeps talking before i can, "but i couldn't disagree either." i knew it. god this motherf- "you got offered a unit chief position." he says and my eyes widen. "it's gonna be great for your career. it's a better pay and everything." he walks towards me and chuckles, "you'd be in a higher department than me, and that within just 6 months of working at the fbi." my eyebrows furrow, he better not be playing with me because i'm believing every second of it. "i didn't want you gone. you're an amazing agent and we," he gulps. "i was so lucky to have you. but i can't deny you a promotion out of my own selfish reasons." my mouth parts as i inhale a small breath. this is.. unexpected, to say the least. "hotch, i'm so sorry for going off at you like that." he shakes his head, "don't apologise. i know how i've been treating you and it was unfair. and totally unprofessional." he takes small steps towards me, stopping just infront of me. he swipes a strand of hair behind my ear and my body freezes - his warm fingers slightly touching my ear, his gaze so soft. i've never seen him so vulnerable before. "i care for you. and even though i handled it poorly, i thought i'd lose you on just your third day." he exhales and his arms now cross. "i couldn't let that happen. so ever since, i thought going hard on you would cause you to be more careful, less reckless." his head drops and his eyebrows furrow. "i know it was selfish, and god did i hate seeing you on the verge of tears everytime i had to discipline you." he looks me straight in the eyes, they no longer shoot fire arrows, they shoot soft looks and quick smiles as his mouth curls a little. "i'm sorry, Y/N. and i hope you'll find it in your heart to forgive me." he closes his eyes and leans forward, placing a kiss on my cheek. i stand there, still frozen. i don't manage to say anything but i notice him moving. leaving. he grabs his jacket and twists the doorknob on my door without a word. "wait -" i manage to blurt out and he turns around, surprised. i walk towards him in a very quick manner, basically sprinting. if me two hours ago was put in this position, i'd finally take swing at the punch i've been begging for. but i don't. instead, i cup his cheeks in my hands and kiss him.

he doesn't react at first, the kiss starting slow, but then he grips at my waist tightly and pulls me towards him. he grins into the kiss and it feels like he just wants to eat me whole. he's greedy, unwilling to share, like he's wanted this for a while. i break the kiss so i can take a couple of breaths, he doesn't let go of my waist and looks me in the eyes. "i'm really sorry" his thumb carressing my left cheek. "you've said that."

"not enough." his lips land on mine again, this kiss shorter, more like a peck. his strong arms embrace me and my head lays on his broad chest. "isn't this unprofessional? a boss and his subordinate?" i ask as he hugs me tightly, "you're not my subordinate anymore, though, uniet chef Y/L/N." i chuckle into his embrace and pull myself away from him, looking into his eyes. "what if i don't take the job?" his eyebrows furrow and he shakes his head, "you have to, it's an amazing offer." i shrug and look up at the ceiling. "maybe. i kinda like my current work place though, i'd be willing to go back. unless of course my snarky boss won't take me." i grin playfully and he kisses my forehead. "monday 8:00 o'clock. don't be late this time."

#aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #hotchner x reader #thomas gibson #fanfic #oneshot #criminal minds #bau team

[sundered-souls]

Inge Sjasaris

B A S I C S

Name: Inge Sjasaris (pre-EW), Inge Grymkoelwyn (post-EW, as she took her wife's last name to finally conform with her people's way... and give the middle finger to her in-laws who didn't think her good enough for their precious daughter while she was at it lmao)

Nicknames: none

Age: Early sixties

Nameday: 5th Sun of the 2nd Umbral Moon

Race: Viera

Gender: Loaded question given that I've never bothered posting about her tribe, but long story short: she's fine with being called a woman. In our modern western ways, she'd be more akin to genderqueer. In her people's way, it's hard to translate so she never bothers. Honestly any pronoun is technically fine by her, it'll never be completely right anyway.

Orientation: Whatever, but more female leaning overall.

Profession: Mercenary, alchemist

P H Y S I C A L     A S P E C  T S

Hair: I've yet to find a satisfying mod for what I have in mind but curly and mid-long, black, badly cut 'cause she tends to do it herself whenever the length annoys her too much. Rarely tied though, she doesn't like the feeling (hence the terrible haircuts)

Eyes: Grey

Skin: Dark brown, with some freckles

Tattoos/scars: A tattoo left by Louisoix's spell between her shoulder blades. Many scars scattered on her body, most faded though and none too remarkable.

F A M I L Y

Parents: Both alive, never named them x)

Siblings: Two unnamed sisters and one brother, which she doesn't know is a brother because she left before he hit puberty. He's called Solrunn and is played by @inah-ffxiv (who also plays her wife)

Grandparents: I didn't flesh out the family tree so far so.... no idea

In-laws and Other: She's married to Yersinia Bordetella, which isn't her real name if you wonder after reading Inge's family name above x) Yersi doesn't get along with her family, who's quite rich and posh, and they never approved of her choice of partner. Not that any of them care. Also in a relationship with Y'shtola.

Pets: None

S K I L L S

Abilities: The notable ones would be magic enhancing/debuffing (and healing but if you don't get hit, it's even better), war surgery, alchemy (mostly potions), botany and bow hunting. She can hear the Elementals too

Hobbies: Reading smut and romance. That's about it, she loves her job as an adventurer and doesn't take much time off.

T R A I T S

Most Positive Trait: Steadfast and kind

Most Negative Trait: emotionally constipated and prone to reproach people their recklessness before doing the exact same fucking thing five minutes later (But it's different because she knows what she's doing™)

L I K E S

Colors: she loves bright colors in general but mostly wears neutral/earthly colors herself (as to not make a target of herself). Doesn't have a clear favorite

Smells: damp soil, forests, quite a lot alchemical agents, tea, campfires

Textures: Leather, smooth polished wood, soft wool

Drinks: Tea, tea and more tea

O T H E R    D E T A I L S

Smokes: Recreationally. Did you know the Twelve will approve of your union even if you're too high to remember the entire day? Should you get lucky enough to meet them, they'll even mention it /shudders

Drinks: Tea and water. Occasionally maybe some fruit juice. Never any alcohol, it makes her sick

Drugs: Nothing other than what I mentioned above

Mount Issuance: Inge's actually in the Twin Adder and got her chocobo through them. The bird doesn't have an actual name, she whistles to call it/give it orders and mostly uses it as a beast of burden rather than a mount. Her yol is in the care of the Mols. She didn't want to take it away from its natural environment, but she visits sometimes.

Been Arrested: Never. To say that she's always a law-abiding citizen might be pushing it though...

Tagged by: @lilbittymonster (ty!) Tagging @inah-ffxiv @adrayellinaeth @archaiclumina @hakai-zonapher @feathersage @wpip-raham @the-crimson-rose @sharlayanscion @ooc-miqojak (so you can pick which character you want to do it with) @punchelf @chadhunkler @clockworkdimensions @gatheredfates @corsair-kovacs @heavensw4rd

I went through my followers list and I have more characters so feel free to ignore if you're not interested and I'll tag more people when I do it with the rest of the cast!

#OC: Inge #thank you again o/

[kakita-shisumo]

In which I sound off for much too long about PF2 (and why I like it better than D&D 5E)

So, let me begin with a disclaimer here. I don’t hate 5E and I deeply despise edition warring. I like 5E, I enjoy playing it, and more, I think it’s an incredibly well-designed game, given what its design mandates were. This probably goes without saying but I wanted it on the record. While I will be comparing PF2 to D&D 5E in what follows and I’ve pretty much already spoiled the ending by the post title (that is, PF2 is going to come out ahead in these comparisons most of the time), I don’t want there to be any misunderstanding about my position or intention. My opinions do not constitute an attack on anybody. For that matter, things I might list as weaknesses in 5E or strengths of PF2 might be the exact opposite for other people, depending on what they want from their RPG experience.

As I said before, 5E is an exceedingly well-designed game that does an exceptional job of meeting its design goals. It just so happens that those design goals aren’t quite to my taste.

# A Brief History of the d20 RPG Universe #

I’m going to indulge myself in a little history for a second; some of it might even be relevant later, but for the most part, I just want to cover a little ground about how we got here. By the time the late ‘90s rolled around TSR and its flagship product, Dungeons and Dragons, were in trouble. D&D was well over two decades old by that point and showing its age. New ideas about what RPGs could and even should be had taken over the industry; TSR had finally lost its spot as best-selling RPG publisher to comparative upstart White Wolf and their World of Darkness games; the company even declared bankruptcy in 1997. Times were grim.

That, however, was when another comparative newcomer, Wizards of the Coast, popped up and bought TSR outright. Flush with MtG and Pokemon cash, they were excited to try to revitalize the D&D brand and began development on a new edition of D&D: third edition, releasing in August 2000.

Third edition was an almost literal revolution in D&D’s design, throwing a lot of “sacred cows” out and streamlining everywhere: getting rid of THAC0 and standardizing three kinds of base attack bonus progressions instead; cutting down to three, much more intuitive kinds of saving throws and standardizing them into two kinds of progression; integrating skills and feats into the core rules; creating the concept of prestige classes and expanding the core class selection. And of course, just making it so rolls were standardized as well, using a d20 for basically everything and making it so higher numbers are basically always better.

At the same time, WotC also developed the concept of the Open Gaming License (OGL), based on Open Source coding philosophies. The idea was that the core rules elements of the game could be offered with a free, open license to allow third-parties develop more content for the game than WotC would have the resources to do on their own. That would encourage more sales of the base game and other materials WotC released as well, creating a virtuous cycle of development and growing the industry for everyone.

Well, long story short (too late!), it worked like fucking gangbusters. 3E was explosive. It sold beyond anyone’s expectations, and the OGL fostered a massive cottage industry of third-party developers throwing out adventures, rules material, and even entire new game lines on the backs of the d20 system. A couple years later, 3.5 edition released, updating and streamlining further, and it was even more of a success than 3rd ed was.

At this point, we need turn for a moment to a small magazine publishing company called Paizo Publishing, staffed almost exclusively by former WotC writers and developers who had formed their own company to publish Dungeon and Dragon, the two officially-licensed monthly magazines (remember those?) for D&D. Dungeon focused on rules content, deep dives into new sourcebooks, etc., while Dragon was basically a monthly adventure drop. Both sold well and Paizo was a reasonably profitable company. Everything seemed to be going swimmingly.

Except. In 1999, WotC themselves were bought by board game heavyweight Hasbro, who wanted all that sweet, sweet Magic: the Gathering and Pokemon money. D&D was a tiny part of WotC at the time and the brand was moribund, so Hasbro’s execs hadn’t really cared if the weirdos in the RPG division wanted to mess around with Open Source licensing. It wasn’t like D&D was actually making money anyway… until it was. A lot of money. And suddenly Hasbro saw “their” money walking out the door to other publishers. So in 2007, WotC announced D&D 4th Ed, and unlike 3rd, it would not be released under an open license. Instead, it would be released under a much more restrictive, much more isolationist Gaming System License, which, among other things, prevented any licensee from publishing under the OGL and the GSL at the same time. They also canceled the licenses for Dungeon and Dragon, leaving Paizo Publishing without anything to, well, publish.

At first, Paizo opted to just pivot to adventure publishing under the OGL. Dungeon Magazine had found great success with a series of adventures over several issues that took PCs from 1st all the way to 20th level, something they were calling “Adventure Paths,” so Paizo said, “Well, we can just start publishing those! We’re good at it, the market’s there, it will be great!” And then, roughly four months after Paizo debuted its “Pathfinder Adventure Paths” line, WotC announced 4th Ed and the switch to the GSL. Paizo suddenly had a problem.

4th Ed wasn’t as big a change from 3rd Ed as 3rd Ed had been from AD&D, but it was still a major change, and a lot of 3rd Ed fans were decidedly unimpressed. Paizo’s own developers weren’t too keen on it either. So they made a fateful decision: they were going to use the OGL to essentially rewrite and update D&D 3.5 into an RPG line they owned: the Pathfinder Roleplaying Game. It was unprecedented. It was a huge freaking gamble. And it paid off more than anybody ever expected. Within two years Paizo was the second-largest RPG publisher in the industry, only behind WotC itself, and for one quarter late in 4E’s life, even managed to outsell D&D, however briefly. Ten years of gangbuster sales and rules releases followed, including 6 different monster books and something over 30 base classes when it was all said and done. It was good stuff and I played it loyally the whole time.

Eventually, though, time moves on and things have to change. The first thing that changed was 4E was replaced by D&D 5E in 2014, which was deliberately designed to walk back many of the changes in 4E that were so poorly received, keep a few of the better ones that weren’t, and in general make the game much more accessible to new players. It was a phenomenal success, buoyed by a resurgence of D&D in pop culture generally (Stranger Things and Critical Role both having large parts to play), and its dominance in the RPG arena hasn’t been meaningfully challenged since. It also returned to the use of the OGL, and a second boom of third-party publishers appeared and thrived for most of a decade.

The second thing was that PF1 was, itself, showing its age. RPGs have a pretty typical life cycle of editions and Pathfinder was reaching the end of one. It wasn’t much of a surprise, then, when, in 2018, Paizo announced Pathfinder 2nd Ed, which released in 2019 and will serve as the focus of the remainder of this post (yes, it’s taken me 1300 words to actually start doing the thing the post is supposed to be about, sue me).

There’s a coda to all of this in the form of the OGL debacle but I don’t intend to rehash any of it here - it was just like six months ago, come on - beyond what it specifically means for the future of PF2. That will come back up at the very end.

# Pathfinder 2E Basics #

So what, exactly, makes PF2 different from what has come before? There are, in my opinion, four fundamental answers to that question.

First: Unified math and proficiency progression. This piece is likely the part most familiar to 5E players, because 5E proficiency and PF2 proficiency both serve the same purpose, which is to tighten up the math of the game and make it so broken accumulations of bonuses aren’t really a thing. In contrast to 5E’s very limited proficiency, though, which just runs from +2 to +6 over the entire 20 levels of the game, Pathfinder’s scales from +0 to +28. Proficiency isn’t a binary yes/no, the way it is in 5E. PF2’s proficiency comes in five varieties: Untrained, Trained, Expert, Master, and Legendary. Your proficiency bonus is either +0 (Untrained) or your level + 2(Trained), +4 (Expert), +6 (Master) or +8 (Legendary). So if you were level five and Expert at something, your proficiency bonus would be level (5) plus Expert bonus (4) = +9.

Proficiency applies to everything in PF2, really - even more than 5E, if you can believe it, because it also goes into your Armor Class calculation. You can be Untrained, Trained, Expert, Master, or Legendary in various types of armor (or unarmored defense, especially relevant for many casters and monks), and your AC is calculated by your proficiency bonus + your Dex modifier + the armor’s own AC bonus, so AC scales just as attack rolls do. Once you get a handle on PF2 proficiency, you’ve grasped 95% of how any game statistic is calculated, including attacks, saves, skill checks, and AC.

Second: Three-Action Economy. Previous editions of D&D, including 5E, have used a “tiered” action system in combat, like 5E’s division between actions, moves, and bonus actions. PF2 has largely done away with that. At the start of your turn, you get three actions and a reaction, period (barring haste or slow or similar temporary effects). It takes one action to do one basic thing. “Attack” is an action. “Move your speed” is an action. “Ready a weapon” is an action. Searching for a hidden enemy is an action. Taking a guarded step is an action. Etc. The point being, you can do any of those as often as you have the actions for them. You can move three times, attack three times, move twice and attack once, whatever. Yes, this does mean you can attack three times in one turn at 1st level if you really want to (though there are reasons why you might not want to).

Some special abilities and most spells take more than one action to accomplish, so it’s not completely one-to-one, but it’s extremely easy to grasp and quite flexible at the same time. It’s probably my favorite of the innovations PF2 brought to the table.

Third: Deep Character Customization. So here’s where I am going to legitimately complain just a bit about 5E. I struggle with how little mechanical control I, as a player, have over how my character advances in 5E.

Consider an example. It’s common in a lot of 5E games to begin play at 3rd level, since you have a subclass by then, as well as a decent amount of hit points and access to 2nd level spells if you’re a caster. Let’s say you’re playing a fighter in a campaign that begins at 3rd level and is expected to run to 11th. That’s 8+ levels of play, a decent-length campaign by just about anyone’s standards. During that entire stretch of play, which would be a year or more depending on how often your group meets, your fighter will make exactly two (2) meaningful mechanical choices as part of their level-up process: the two points at 4th and 8th levels where you can boost a couple stats or get a feat. That’s it. Everything else is on rails, decided for you the moment you picked your subclass.

Contrast that with PF2. In that same level range, you would get to select: 4 class feats, 4 skill feats, two ancestry feats, two general feats, and four skill increases. At every level, a PF2 player gets to choose at least two things, in addition to whatever automatic bonuses they get from their class. These allow me to tailor my build quite tightly to whatever my idea for my character is and give me cool new things to play with every time I level up. This is true across character classes, casters and martials alike.

PF2 also handles multiclassing and the space that used to be occupied by prestige classes with its “pile o’ feats” approach. You can spend class feats from class A to get some features of class B, but it’s impossible for a multiclass build to just “steal” everything that makes a single class cool. A wizard/fighter will never be as good a fighter as a regular fighter is, and a fighter/wizard will never be the wizard’s match with magic.

Fourth: Four Degrees of Success. 5E applies its nat 20, nat 1, critical hits, etc. rules in a very haphazard fashion. PF2 standardizes this as well, in a way that makes your actual skill with whatever you’re doing matter for how well you do it. Any check in PF2 can produce one of four results: a critical success, a regular success, a regular failure, or a critical failure. In order to get a critical success on a roll, you have to exceed your target DC by 10 or more; in order to get a critical failure, you have to roll 10 or more less than the DC. Where do nat 20s and nat 1s come in? They respectively increase or decrease the level of success you rolled by one step. In practice, it works out a lot like you’re used to with a 5E game, but, for instance, if you have a +30 modifier and are rolling against a DC 18, rolling a nat 1 nets you a total of 31, exceeding the DC by more than 10 and earning you a critical success, which is then reduced to just a normal success by the fact of it being a nat 1. Conversely, rolling against a DC 40 with a +9 modifier can never succeed, because even a nat 20 only earns a 29, more than 10 below the DC and normally a crit failure, only increased to a regular failure by the nat 20.

Now, not every roll will make use of critical successes and critical failures. Attack rolls, for instance, don’t make any inherent distinction between failure and critical failure. (Though there are special abilities that do - try not to critically fail a melee attack against a swashbuckler. The results may be painful.) Skill rolls, however, often do, as do many spells with saving throws. Most spells that allow saves are only completely resisted if the target rolls a critical success. Even on a regular success, there is usually some effect, even on non-damaging rolls. That means that casters very rarely waste their turn on spells that get resisted and accomplish nothing at all. It also doubles the effect of any mechanical bonuses or penalties to a roll, because now there are two spots on a die per +1 or -1 that affect the outcome; a +1 might not only convert a failure to a success but might also convert a success to a crit success, or a crit fail to a regular fail.

# What About Everything Else? #

There is a lot more to it, of course. As a GM I find PF2 incredibly easy to run, even at the highest levels of game play, as compared to other d20 systems. The challenge level calculations work, meaning you can have a solo boss without having to resort to special boss monster rules to provide good challenges. I find the shift from “races” to “ancestries” much less problematic. PF2 has rules for how to handle non-combat time in the dungeon in ways that standardize common rules problems like “Well, you didn’t say you were looking for traps!” Everything using one proficiency calculation lets the game do weird things like having skill checks that target saves, or saves that target skill-based DCs. Inter-class balance, with some very specific exceptions, is beautifully tailored. Perception, always the uber-skill, isn’t a skill at all anymore: everyone is at least Trained in it, and every class reaches at least Expert in it by early double-digit levels. Opportunity Attacks (PF2 still uses the 3rd Ed “Attack of Opportunity” - but will soon be switching over to "Reactive Strike") isn’t an inherent ability of every character and monster, encouraging mobility during combats, and skill actions in combat can lower ACs, saves, attacks, and more, so there are more things to do for more kinds of characters. And so on.

Experiencing all of that is easiest just by playing the game, of course, but suffice it to say PF2 has a lot of QoL improvements for players and GMs alike in addition to the bigger, core-level mechanical differences.

# The OGL Thing #

Last thing, then. In the wake of the OGL shit in January, Paizo announced that it would no longer be releasing Pathfinder material under the OGL, opting instead to work with an intellectual property law firm to develop the Open RPG Creative (ORC) License that would do what the OGL could no longer be trusted to do: remain perpetually free and untouchable for anyone who wanted to publish under it. The ORC isn’t limited specifically to Paizo or to Pathfinder 2E or even to d20 games; any company can release any ruleset under it and allow third-party companies to develop and publish content for it.

Shifting away from the OGL, though, required making some changes to scrub out legacy material. A lot of the basic work was done when they shifted to 2E, but there are still a lot of concepts, terminologies, and potentially infringing ideas seeded throughout the system. These had to go.

Since this meant having to rewrite a lot of their core rules anyway, Paizo opted to not fight destiny and announced “Pathfinder 2nd Edition Remastered” in April. This is a kind of “2.25” edition, with a lot of small changes around the edges and a couple of larger ones to incorporate what they’ve learned since the game first launched four years ago. A couple classes are getting major updates, a ton of spells are either getting renamed or swapped out for non-OGL equivalents, and a couple big things: no more alignment and no more schools of magic.

The first book of the Remaster, Player Core 1, comes out in November, along with the GM Core. Next spring will see Monster Core and next summer will give us Player Core 2. That will complete the Remaster books; everything else is, according to Paizo, going to be compatible enough it won’t need but a few minor tweaks that can be handled via errata. So if you’re thinking about getting into PF2, I’d give serious thought to waiting until November at least, and maybe next summer if you want the whole Remastered package.

And that’s it. That’s my essay on PF2 and what I think makes it cool. The floor is open for questions and I am both very grateful and deeply apologetic to anyone who made it this far.

#RPGs #roleplaying games #d20 #d20 history #pathfinder #pathfinder 2e #pf2 #pf2e #dungeons and dragons #D&D #d&d 5e

[l00na24]

I Got Your Six - Chapter 6

Warnings: From this chapter onwards, there will only be a general warning to avoid spoilers! The story contains mature content and if you keep reading, you agree that you can handle it!

Word Count: 11.5k

A/N: We're back :D This time with a huuge one thanks to me not being able to keep the intro as short as I wanted and just couldn't cut the entire thing for reasons... you will probably see why 😅

Enjoy reading! 😋

29 Minutes later, 7:01 PM, Brazil

After I don’t know how many miles because I eventually stopped counting, we finally reached the place we agreed to meet. It seemed an eternity away with how long the drive still was until we were there, not helping my thinning patience at all.

I couldn’t remember the last time when I was so on edge than right now and I hadn’t even met them yet. Every nerve in my body was literally on fire and my stress level past every limit already, like we were on a mission completely gone out of control. For those who knew me absolutely no good conditions for a confrontation like this, especially with my past. But I covered it with the masquerade I had improved to perfection, to hide my rapidly diminishing confidence and all my previous accumulated anger turning into an even faster rising anxiety with each passing second. I wouldn’t let anyone see my weakness.

When our vehicle came to a slow stop, I wished we would have had at least still hours to drive instead of being here. Not making an effort to move when the three boys exited, I drew in shorter breaths and flinched slightly when I heard the car doors closing. My head coming up with something I thought I had buried a long time ago only to surface in the worst possible moment.

Loud shouts, motor sounds, car doors opening and closing with a bang from the force, the movements of a car…

Shit. I couldn’t get a panic attack right now. I’d get through this, whatever it took. It’s just a job like any other.

Lying to yourself won’t help you.

It was far from it.

Willing my breathing to even out a bit and shaking my head to get rid of these unnecessities, I opened my door and got out after I had unbuckled my seatbelt. The men of our team were patiently leaning against one side and the hood of the car, giving me the needed time until I was ready to make the first step.

As soon as they heard me leaving the last temporary safe space I’d get for tonight and shutting my only opportunity to escape, their eyes shifted to me. Ignoring the discomfort it caused, I tried to act totally unfazed by the very situation I had tried to run from for all these past years because I knew I couldn’t face it.

The truth was: I was scared shitless. How they would react, how they would look at me, what they would say, if they would do anything at all…

With an unusual hesitation I forced my feet step for step forward, fighting with all the strength I had left against the impulse to run away yet again, but with the significant difference it was amplified at least ten times more now than before. An unmistakable red flag of my body I was about to cross a line I shouldn’t, under no circumstances.

You can’t always run away. No one will come to help you, this is alone YOUR own fault.

It was an open secret that my boys could see right through the false facade I had put up and the smallest movements I made, from the uneven rise and fall of my chest to my fingers starting to nervously twitch and shake.

-

Sensing the waging battle the girl of their group was fighting with herself internally when she followed soundless behind them, Alex wanted nothing more than to put her out of this agony she carried with her for far too long. Hating to see the various indicators written all over her and being forced to helplessly watch how it continued to destroy what was left of her, if there even was still something. He had enough about pretending that everything was ‘okay’ when they could see it clearly wasn’t. Not this time and not now in this absurd situation they had been thrown in.

Normally he was the person instilling fear on his enemies but right now he felt it creeping up his spine and every thought went in circles around the most important question: What if this broke her for good? If she wouldn’t recover from this?

There was no way in hell he would let that happen, Alex owed it to his best friend he had known since childhood to protect his girl and be there for her. Maybe he wasn’t doing it entirely for him if he was honest but a little for himself too… but this wasn’t important right now.

The top priority was to shield her from the possible damage these five people could cause. And he’d do everything in his power to make sure of it. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt her even more than she already had been.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to…” Our group halted when Alex turned around to me, gaining the attention of his brothers beside him and mine. The care on honest display, unfortunately for him, hit a nerve because I couldn’t stand it in my current state, not able to accept it.

“You can’t protect me from everything!” I blew up at him with a hateful glare before he had fully ended, the pressure I was under mixed with my anxiety getting the best of me and announcing itself in an uncontrolled outburst. Immediately regretting my reaction, I cast my sight downwards to avoid the result edged on his face. I didn’t intend to strike right the point I knew would hurt him the most but it was my natural defense mechanism kicking in.

“Sorry.”

They shouldn’t care about me at all and they shouldn’t hold onto me so much like they did, trying with everything they had to keep me off the ledge I was continuously seeking. They deserved everything but me. If I wasn’t here, they would probably live a happy life and their best friend would be still alive. I never wanted to drag them down with me in this hellhole but fate obviously had a different opinion, wanting to punish them for not giving me up and yet none of the boys did even consider it in the slightest. How could they be so foolish?

Sometimes these three were too smart for their own good, the cracks in my defense visible to them as if a light would make me stand out to call out my false play.

It took not more than a short exchange of their sights to have the same thought.

“Come ‘ere.” Mick spoke up and beckoned me with a hand gesture over to him, spreading his arms to the sides in the process.

Not sure what he aimed to accomplish with this, I stood there a little baffled while I contemplated what I should do and trying to gauge his intentions behind it. I was in no mood for any kind of empathy.

“You really wanna leave me hanging here?” He asked when I still hadn’t made a move, pulling up his best sad look and tilted his head with raised eyebrows in hopes it would convince me. He knew exactly what he did. Little shit.

There was nothing I hated more than to see them sad or hurt, especially if it was because of me and if he had gambled on that, his plan was working.

Reject him. Don’t. Give. In.

Letting out a huff, I came to him and put my arms hesitantly around his body. Laying the right side of my face carefully on his chest, assuming he offered himself for a hug.

“See? Isn’t that bad, is it?” Putting one hand on the back of my head to stroke it slowly and the other respectfully on the side of my waist with the utmost care to not place it too far backwards to keep the lines in which I allowed them to touch me.

I couldn’t deny his simple gesture was actually relaxing my nerves a little bit.

“So… we all know I’m not good with this emotional stuff but…-” Mick began after a moment, only to be cut off by Luc.

“Horrible is more accurate.” He corrected him with a smile directed toward me, making a little wink at the end.

“I’m trying to cheer her up, dude! Can you not butt in?” The man currently holding me to his large body retorted in a fake offended tone before he continued, focusing back on me.

“Where was I? Ah! Right, as I was saying… regardless what they say or do, it will not change anything between the four of us. You have my word, okay? Forever and always. Like we promised, little wolf.”

At the mention of the nickname my gaze shot up in lightning speed till it met his, my face blank. I could feel him tensing up a bit, probably because he wasn’t sure how I would take what he said and if he was overstepping a forbidden boundary.

I hadn’t been called this term in literal ages, but it was engraved in my brain for eternity. The very name he had used to tease and mock me in the beginning or when he made fun of me or… to express his affection between the lines.

Mick felt my hold tighten slightly and took it as a good sign, also since I hadn’t pushed him away from me yet, which was very likely to happen at any given moment depending on what he would do. The odds for it happening were even increased given the situation, so he had to navigate his every move very carefully if he wanted to avoid this scenario and ruin everything.

“Remember what he used to say? ‘The strength of the wolf is the pack.’ And we’ve been one ever since you came to us. That’s exactly what we gonna show them. We are all standing behind you on this and won’t leave your side.” It wasn’t a common occurrence of somebody making me speechless but right now Mick had managed to do exactly that. I had forgotten how good with words he actually could be if he wanted, reminding me not to underestimate his diplomacy skills similar to Luc’s.

But what was a pack without its true leader?

The ‘goofball’ out of the four, as she had so fittingly named him after his best and also worst trait, couldn’t watch her struggle any longer. If he could take the smallest amount of weight off her she carried, he would do it without a second thought and give her some air to breathe to keep her from drowning.

He had made it his personal mission straight from the start, but even more so after the tragic loss they had suffered - especially her, to preserve and keep that spark inside they had seen in her. Even if it was through the faintest hint of a smile, real or not, all effort put in was worth it regardless. And whatever he or his brothers had to do to stoke those flames their former leader had ignited in her, they would be there to keep them alive, 100%. They would keep her alive.

That’s why he was the self-proclaimed backbone of the team, with his ever positive and lively personality but also blunt directness. Always a cheeky comment on his lips to lift the mood of the situation and his teammates. He was the unmatched motivator out of them, despite his comical and non-serious, or what some people called annoying, appearance. The lightness he carried with himself a huge benefit for everyone when they needed it, as well as his seemingly unlimited energy that had been equal with their captain’s, after their girl had enhanced it in Vic.

“You know, you could at least pretend I’m doing a good job here.” Mick whispered lowly to me, attempting to convey his message inconspicuously, so nobody would notice but being caught red handed the second he opened his mouth, not acting suspicious at all of course.

“Feel the fear, let it be your friend and it will guide you. Don’t be afraid of it.”

It didn’t take long till I couldn’t tolerate his hug any longer, retreating myself from his embrace without a word when he got the hint and reluctantly withdrew his arms to give me space. The second person close to me I disappointed in a matter of seconds. I could make a world record with this.

“You’re right. Let’s show them that no one fucks with us.” I said when I had brought some distance between us and walked past him down the way leading to the bar. Letting them know I was done talking.

-

Mick blinked a few times in her direction, not quite sure if it was the reaction he had been aiming for. He had believed he had done everything right, had been careful enough, well, maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned the last part, but how fast the situation had taken a complete turn and his well-meant support ricochet back left him dumbfounded. He should have been used to it by now since it wasn’t the first occasion this happened, but none of them probably would ever get used to her unpredictable, fast-switching duality from one moment to the other.

“You only wanted to help, she knows that. It’s not on you.” Luc followed his friends’ gaze to the back of their girl with concern in his narrowed eyes. His sneaking suspicion, he had hoped would prove itself wrong, turning out to be true more and more. There would be nothing they could do to prevent the inevitable if it was what he thought, from his knowledge all the signs she had shown pointed to it so far. Her more frequent, sudden mood changes out of the blue, the tension and nervousness in her body language, her touchiness in general, as well as most importantly, she shared way more physical contact with them than she would under normal circumstances. And this fact alone was more than worrying.

-

“Let it fulfill you.”

It had been the most terrifying lesson a certain person taught me, but it gave me the needed courage to fight back my anxiety as best as I could for now. To use it as a weapon instead of being used by my fear.

I hadn’t been on an endless amount of battlefields, ran too many times into hails of bullets, put my life on the line for enough people that weren’t even worth it, had made friends with death more times than I could count, ended lives without giving a shit about them and the amount of blood I had on my hands and hadn’t done unspeakable things, only to be brought to my knees now by the very men of my old team.

Nobody in the entire world would ever get me to break the one holy oath I’d die for before desecrating it: I wouldn’t kneel for anyone. Only my enemies will.

Entering the area of what I presumed was an outside bar, the first thing I did was carefully assessing the place. Spotting not much besides a lit-up area on the right looking like a combination of a bar and a market stall with two people sitting at the back of the bar and the barkeeper standing behind the counter. Regals full of various bottles lining the wall behind him just as a multitude of vegetables and fruits on the ground on the opposite side. Whoever would buy these things in the middle of literal nowhere.

To my left the actual bar, built on a wooden construct and a stairway on the right with some fairy lights hanging from the edge of the roof to give this shady appearing place a more trustworthy look. Its height and a fence made of thin planks of wood allowing to overlook the whole area from each table.

And then a car parked in between. The same car we had seen not too long ago.

Its sight alone making my stomach churn and heighten my senses to full alert. Not wanting to give it any more attention than I had, I kept moving forward while making sure to stay close to the bar to avoid getting noticed just yet from above.

As if on queue when I had crossed over half of the way, loud laugher from multiple people suddenly filled the air that instantly stopped me when I jerked away from the sound of the familiar voices and stripped me of every false confidence I had managed to gather up. Feeling the anxiety skyrocketing but also shifting into a mix of fierce anger and hatred directed at myself because I couldn’t even do the simplest thing. I was so pathetic.

“Is this all you got? Do you give up that easily?”

“Stop being so mean to her, Vic. Can’t you see she’s trying her best?”

“Trying is not enough, we’re not in kindergarten here. Do it better!”

My nails dug themselves into my palms at the memory.

Movement in my periphery snapped me back into the present, registering Luc, Alex and Mick who had walked past and blocked my way with their bodies. It was so unnatural to see them this tense, especially about the awaiting situation, both their posture and faces didn’t have the usual relaxedness I was used to and it stressed me out even more.

They were ready for battle and wanted to make sure I was too with this silent conversation between us before they would allow me to continue. My very last chance to back out of all this.

As always, the first nod came from Mick, shortly followed by Alex and then Luc, giving me their affirmation that they were only waiting for my “Go”. It was like they had known I had exactly needed this to give me the drive to move on and spur the wolf to get ready to pounce.

With the encouragement through my team, I took the time to take in a long, deep breath to gather myself before I gave them my confirmation with a firm nod of my head and sharing a last sight with each other for assurance about our next step.

Our engineer decided to take the lead as ‘the first line of defense’, Luc taking the second position after checking me up and down with his scrutinizing gaze before he left Alex with me who was waiting until I got going too before he went ahead last.

I couldn’t thank them enough for not forcing me into another verbal conversation and instead choosing the option that conveyed so much more than any word ever could and taking a bit of the pressure from me to have to express myself.

Just when we had reached the stairway, I came to a halt and looked upwards.

You finally get what you wanted…

Please be with me. I need you, I can’t do this without you.

Accepting I couldn’t delay the confrontation I had wanted to avoid ever since any longer, I forced myself to tear my sight away even if every fiber in my body resisted doing it. The emptiness I continuously felt came crashing down like a tidal wave above me without mercy, pushing me back under far out of anyone’s reach to the place I just couldn’t get out of no matter what I did. The very place I had never wanted to be in again after I was shown how it was to touch the sky on the other side. Until I got pulled back under and buried at the bottom with no life left to fight for.

Three sympathetic smiles were directed at me when I looked to the stairs in front, noticing a hand stretching out to me in the same moment. First I wanted to refuse Alex’ gesture but thinking for a second about it, what a bitch I was earlier and what it meant that he was still showing how much he cared about me when he offered to be the anker I could ground myself on – knowing what it took for me to even make this step – I didn’t have it in me to deny him.

Without much protest I reciprocated his gesture, feeling the warmth of his skin seep into mine and giving me some safety. The smile on his face stretched a tad wider when he had my physical assurance I wouldn’t shut him out again and let him help, returning it with his own and brushing a few times over my hand. We are here. You are not going through this alone.

“Don’t jump at each other’s throats.” With a quiet but steady voice I gave them my permission to engage, steeling myself and shoving all emotions in the dark corner where they belonged.

A quiet snort escaped Mick’s lips, conjuring a grin about the irony of my words. There were only two ways this was gonna go, either war or peace. There was no in between.

And knowing my boys, they wouldn’t even let them anywhere near me - not that I wanted it anyway.

I could only hope for the best and that they could control their temper because I would fight tooth and nail for those three and protect them with my life no matter who I was up against.

If any of my ex-mates dared to pick a fight with them, they had to survive the feared wolf first and then things would get ugly very fast – for them.

Let’s not get started if they found any of my triggers…

Before my thoughts could come up with every possible scenario, I chose to distract myself with something way more important, to check I had everything covered I didn’t want them to see while we were slowly ascending the stairs step by agonizing step. Making sure my braided ponytail was hiding most of the unmistakable, angry red scar on the right side of my throat before everyone’s eyes and my two necklaces were concealed under my black shirt. Going lower till the waistband of my jeans in the same color to find my gun and knife in the places where I had put them, ready to use in case anything should happen.

The grip on each other’s hand hardened when we reached the end and entered the bar, sharing a tight squeeze while we walked one after another in a row. All my senses automatically zeroed in on this very moment, making it almost impossible to keep up the mantra I was telling myself over and over.

I can do this. I can do this… I can… do this… I-

I stayed as close to Alex as I physically could to hide myself behind him in hopes it would give me more time until they realized who I was.

The paralyzing fear I had tried to fight in vain before came stabbing me in the back harder than ever and turned my body against me. Feeling like someone was squeezing my throat so tight I could barely breathe. Every step forward being at least a hundred backwards for my strength and self-consciousness which had been so laboriously built up. My muscles moving on their own despite the weight manifesting on my feet.

“FIGHT! FIGHT BACK!!”

“Vic, it’s ENOUGH!”

“You’re so pathetically weak…”

Not daring to take a look from behind his back, I kept facing away from the scene to not cave in now and show everyone present how weak I indeed really was.

The atmosphere shifted as soon as we had stepped foot into the place, the one before a storm was about to break lose any minute with us in the epicenter. The hot and cold signals my body was sending me together with the humid climate didn’t do me a favor at all, the sweat clinging to me grossing me out and I wondered why Alex hadn’t let go yet and didn’t seem to care about the stickiness of my hand.

Was he regretting being here? Was he rethinking his choice of agreeing to this? Was he already hating me for dragging them into things they didn’t have to do anything at all with? Would they leave me as soon as we were done here to deal with my past alone? Were they only still with me because they thought they owed it to their dead friend?

What was I doing here? I should have never suggested this mission. What did I thought it would do? I should have ignored this god damn letter. I wasn’t supposed to even be here. Why couldn’t I just go back??

“Y/N?”

The moment my very name shot through the silence like a bullet, the chaotic whirlwind of thoughts was gone and I instantly froze into place. Not making any movement and praying I was mostly hidden for them, so they would hopefully ignore me thinking they had mistaken me.

But luck – fate – wasn’t on my side as always.

Of course they wouldn’t give me more time.

I couldn’t delay the inevitable any longer. It was over.

As slowly as I could I moved around, the hold on me tightening while I revealed myself and shared a fleeting glance with Alex who had his eyes already on me from over his shoulder.

I had to do this now. I wouldn’t cave.

I couldn’t run away anymore.

My pulse accelerated with every passing second and the only thing I wanted was to disappear, desperately clinging to my anker.

It was never meant to happen like this. In fact, it was never meant to happen at all if I could have helped it.

Forced to face the five men from my past after so many years spent to run from them, I hesitantly looked in their direction and deeply regretted it when five sets of eyes found mine. Bringing back up everything again, first and foremost the day I had left them.

Ben, Will, Santiago, Frankie and Tom were also brought back to the fateful events leading to the loss of the most important part of their team at the sight of the person they had never expected to see ever again before their very eyes…

8 years ago…

5:09 AM, Central America, Nicaragua

Moving uncomfortably around on the chair he was sitting in, Ben woke slowly from his sleep, stretching his limbs and blinking a few times with his eyes. It wasn’t definitely the best idea to try to sleep on the piece of furniture that was too small for his large body.

Noticing the room was still dark, he guessed it was still night, maybe close to early morning.

Trying not to be too loud and wake the other person in the room with him, he tried to shift into a more comfortable position and ease his muscles up he could feel hurting already from laying in this awkward position for probably a few hours.

Ben’s eyes automatically went straight ahead to the bed in front of him, checking if their girl was sleeping soundly under the covers he draped over her before he took the first shift of watching her. That in case something happened or she had a nightmare, one of them was there to help. Just in case. They would make sure they would be there this time.

Still mostly asleep and wanting to close his eyes and turn around again to get a bit more sleep, he listened for anything that would indicate a nightmare or that she wasn’t okay but the room was silent and he also couldn’t make out any violent movement on the bed through his half closed eyes. He was nearly off to sleep again as a thought hit him like a lightning strike.

The bed was empty.

His blue eyes shot open wide and his body followed, nearly tumbling to the floor in the process from jumping abruptly out of his seat in his sleeping but now wide awake state.

The dirty blonde’s gaze shot to the bathroom next, spotting the door wide open and no light shining. Looking back at the bed and trying to figure out if he was dreaming or not.

“Honey?” he asked in his rough and raspy morning voice, waiting for any form of response that never came.

Faster than light he ran over to the switch next to the door and flipped it on. The whole room illuminating and confirming his fear that felt like someone had just poured a bucket of ice water over him. There was no way she was gone.

Frantically he searched the room for anything that belonged to her, like her baggage she brought with her the first day but came up emptyhanded. Nothing. Not a single thing.

Ben had never felt anything like he was feeling now. First the whole thing hours ago and now this? It couldn’t get any more worse, right?

His heart was pounding hard against his chest as he ripped open the door, not caring about anything but her right now and bounding out to the one next to it.

“Guys! Open the fucking door! Wake up!” He screamed loudly, waking the whole hotel in the process.

His knocking only stopped when the door opened and his brother Will was standing before him, not knowing what happened to have Ben this wound up in the early morning hours but already on high alert.

“What the fuck, dude? What’s going on?” Blue eyes already searching each other.

“She’s fucking gone, man!” His little brother was not even waiting a moment to respond.

The opening of another door not far away could be heard and another voice joined them.

“Can you tell me, what you think you’re doing? You’re waking the entire complex, Ben!” Tom’s annoyed voice sounded from the other side of them.

“I just woke up and wanted to check she was okay but she wasn’t there!” Ben explained, making wild gestures with his hands and arms.

“Let’s not discuss this out here, come in.” Will said quietly and gestured with his head to Tom and Frankie to come over in his and Santiago’s room, who followed his request and walked over.

“You better have a good reason for this, hermano.” Santiago warned, sitting on the front of the bed he was previously sleeping till he got so rudely awakened by the young man’s screaming voice.

“We need to go look for her. Something could have happened or what if someone-?” Ben started again but was halted by his brother.

“Calm down, okay? Maybe she has taken a walk or just needed some fresh air.” He suggested, going already over all possible options in his head.

“What is even happening?” Frankie, the only one of the group that still hadn’t really caught on at was happening asked, leaning against the table on the wall and folding his arms.

“Y/N’s gone! That’s what’s happening and all her stuff too!” Benny shouted back, nervously running a hand through his strands.

Frankie’s eyes grew wide at the reply.

“Her stuff too?” He asked, not believing what he was hearing.

“Yes! Like she was never there in the first place!” The dirty blonde said, shifting constantly around on his feet.

Well, a walk was off the table with that. Will grinded his teeth together hard. This was not good, it was far from good actually. The way things had developed in the past hours only increased the boiling inside him further. Not knowing what was going on, being kept in the dark and things happening that were so out of character for the girl they were serving with for years now. Nothing of all this was making sense.

“Okay, we get it. Let’s all not make any hasty assumptions here.” Will tried to reason and keep everyone from panicking.

Santiago shook his head and angrily spoke something while standing up and shuffling around, probably some curse in Spanish.

“What are you doing?” Frankie eyed his brother.

“Getting ready to look for her, pendejo. What else?” He replied back and unzipped his bag on the ground in the corner to get some clothes.

“Fucking finally!” Ben breathed out and was ready to go, not wanting to waste any more time than they already had. Too much in his opinion.

“You can’t just walk out there like this. We’re still on a fucking mission!” Their captain decided to join in on the conversation to remind them that their reason for being here was not a vacation but way more serious and they still needed to be careful even if they were leaving today, or so it was planned.

“He’s right. We don’t know where she is right now and we can’t just aimlessly walk around here. And we also have a flight to catch.” Will backed up Tom’s opinion on their plan, looking around the group.

“What do we do then? I ain’t fucking sitting around waiting if she comes back or not and I don’t give a shit about that flight, I’m not leaving without her!” His little brother was clearly done with talking, his decision what he’d do already written on his face.

“If she left, someone must have seen her. Let’s try asking around first and see if we can find out anything that will help, okay? She couldn’t have used the car because I still have the keys, so she could’ve only left by foot or a cab.” The other Spanish man in the room voiced his thoughts to the group, trying to intervene before it escalated into a more heated argument.

Everyone looked at each other for a moment, exchanging looks before Tom nodded and straightened his position.

“Alright. Let’s get ready and meet downstairs in 10 minutes.” He confirmed with one more look around them before starting to move toward the door with Frankie and Ben in tow.

Not needing the full 10 minutes to get ready, the group met 5 minutes later in the lobby of the hotel.

“So what’s the plan now?” The younger Miller wanted to know, already scanning the environment around them in search of their missing girl.

“We split up and try to ask around. Stay in the building, we’ll meet back here in 20.” Tom explained and everyone nodded as confirmation before they began to split, each one taking a different direction to begin their search.

The Minutes passing by and still no success for each of them, Ben stormed annoyed past the lobby a second time. Huffing from the frustration that grew bigger by the second. They needed to find her. Right fucking now.

“Excuse me? Are you looking for something?” He heard a voice from behind.

Halting his steps, he turned around.

“Yes! Have you seen the girl that was with us when we checked in?” He immediately answered. Registering the female receptionist not far from him now, that was also there when they checked in the first day.

“Yes, of course I did. She paid and checked out already 4 hours ago. Said that someone would still be in her room that was supposed to check out today.” The young brown-haired woman answered politely, offering him a slight smile.

“She- What?!” Ben felt like his legs would give out underneath him at the revelation he just heard and all color left his face.

“Do- do you know where she went?” He choked out, trying to get as much information as he possibly could.

“She took one of the cabs outside but I don’t know where she wanted to go. Probably the airport with the baggage she had with her if you ask me. But that’s all I can give you, I’m sorry.” She elaborated and gave him an apologetic look. Sensing that there was probably a not so nice reason for her leave alone but not wanting to interfere with their privacy.

“That’s enough already, thank you so much!” He thanked the receptionist, turning around and walking a few steps back, tapping his feet impatiently while waiting for the boys.

A few minutes later, the rest of the group turned up at the lobby again where Benny was already burning holes in the floor with his shoes, finally stopping when his brothers came into view.

“She checked out 4 hours ago!” He told them before any of them could ask something.

Not expecting something like this all of them needed a second to process what they just heard. They felt like someone had punched them in the gut.

“Checked out?” Frankie repeated in complete disbelieve.

“Yeah, the receptionist there told me that she paid for the room already too and that she took a cab. Probably to the airport or somethin’.”

“She’d never go alone on a fuckin’ plane, man.” Santiago joined their conversation. Not believing their female teammate would go voluntarily near anything like that because of her anxiety.

“Where else would she go with all her stuff? Another hotel?” The younger Miller shot back.

“You said she took a cab, let’s go and ask the drivers then. I saw some standing outside.” Will said, already turning around to go outside and ask there.

Without protest the others followed hot on his heels, marching out with quick steps and looking for the cabs that waited outside the entrance of the building.

Starting with the first to their left, they moved down the line as a group, asking each driver if they had driven a woman from the hotel somewhere in the last few hours.

Ready to nearly give up, they came to the last one in line. Stopping and repeating their questions for the fifth time now in a matter of minutes, not really believing this one would turn out any different than the others.

“Let me think… hm, yes. I did, actually.” The driver, an older man answered, leaned next to his car.

“Where did you drive her?” Ben wasn’t sure if he should be happy or not, that they at least had a lead where she was now.

“She’s your girl?” The man eyed him questioningly, not sure if he could trust the men in front of him, considering the woman they were looking for seemed to have left them without their knowledge. Normally a clear sign to what this could be leading to.

“Yes, she is.” He answered without hesitation, not needing to think over what he was saying. For him she was and always would be his. No question. She always had been and he wouldn’t let anything change that. Even if he’d never admit it.

Catching the other guys a little bit by surprise upon his answer, they tried to compose their faces, so the man couldn’t see their reactions. All of them knew how Ben was feeling about the only girl in their team, there was enough history between them to tell what was going on. But hearing him saying it out loud, even in a different context, still caught them a little off guard.

“I really hope for you, that you and your friends didn’t do something to her. Otherwise I have to call the police.” The driver threatened them, narrowing his eyes at the group.

“We’d never, I swear! She’s important to all of us and we just wanna know where she went, so we can go and look for her.” Ben answered honestly and looked the man in the eyes with a seriousness you only see when he was in mission mode.

“You’d better. I took her to the airport, looked a bit off and wasn’t really paying much attention, being quiet the whole drive.” He finally told them, adding the little details he had noticed.

The boys exchanged worried and confused looks at that, giving them pause for a moment.

“Thank you, sir. You really helped us a lot!” The younger Miller thanked him and walked back in the hotel followed by the others, making a straight beeline to the elevator.

“Any ideas?” Santiago asked while pressing the button of their floor.

“Our flight’s supposed to be in 5 hours.” Will informed, always the one in the group to rely on when it came to numbers. Her time missing making his stomach turn more with each second he counted passing by.

“Fuck that, we’re going to the airport now!” Ben huffed, slamming his fist against the wall of the elevator in frustration.

“She’ll be alright, okay? It won’t help if we’re loosing it.” Frankie jumped in, patting his friends’ back reassuringly a few times.

“Fish’s right. We’ll get our things packed up and go to the airport. But there won’t be a guarantee that we’ll get another flight.” The older Miller brother confirmed while stepping out and walking to their rooms.

“We meet at the car in 10.” They heard Tom’s voice in the distance while everyone spread out to their respective rooms, packing up everything in record time.

Before Benny could enter the empty room he carelessly left behind an hour ago, he was stopped by his brother.

“Y/N’s gonna be alright. Whatever is going on with her, we’ll find it out, okay? Everything’s gonna be fine, Ben. There will be an explanation to all of this.” Will came closer and brought him in a tight brotherly hug, holding his little brother to him. Trying to sooth his strained nerves and allowing him to finally break down and let out everything he desperately tried to hold back.

Feeling Benny slowly pulling back, he looked at him intently, not once breaking eye contact.

“Can you help Fish load the car while I get everything sorted with our checkout?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Okay, I’ll see you downstairs in a few.” Will gave him a slight smile and a last pat on the back before walking off to his room.

After everything was taken care of and their luggage packed in the car in an amount of mere minutes, they were off to the airport.

Under normal circumstances Frankie would drive safely, but their situation was far from anything close to it and he drove a bit faster than he should and “missed” a few stop signs along the way till they stopped after a 10 minute drive in the large parking lot of their destination.

Each of the Delta soldiers was practically jumping out of the car when they were parked, grabbing their things and speeding off, minus Tom, who’s mood had soured over the course of their not planned way back to base.

“She’ll better have a very damn good excuse for this.” He grumbled annoyed while they were on the way through the building, but the rest decided to ignore his comment. There were more important things to be concerned of right now than his pissed-off mood.

“I’m gonna go over to the counter and see if I can rebook our flight to an earlier one. Maybe someone has seen her too.” Will announced shortly after they stopped in front of a few seats.

“I’ll come with you.” His little brother said and was right beside him in an instant, needing some closeness to him right now to keep him grounded.

Already knowing what was going on, the older blonde accepted his silent request without any protest and gave him a quick nod before walking off together to the ticket counter.

“Hello, how can I help you?” A red-haired woman in probably her 30’s greeted them with a smile.

“Hello, excuse me but we’re looking for a woman that probably booked a flight here to North Carolina a few hours ago. Have you seen anyone maybe?” Will greeted her.

“Wait, I have a photo of her.” Benny added and took it out of the pocket of his blue shirt, showing it to her.

It was a group photo, made when they were back at base after their first mission together, all of them exhausted but happy and smiling. The boys were standing in a line, arms over each other’s shoulders with their girl in front of them, having the brightest smile on her face they’d ever seen toward the camera. The colonel had taken it for them, being very proud of his best team he had in Delta Force. He had given all of them a copy of it after. Everyone knew from that moment on that they would be a team forever. Ben would never forget that day, would never forget that smile she had back then. The need he felt there to always make her smile like that again.

The woman behind the counter looked at it for a few seconds until she gave it back to him.

“Yes, she wanted the earliest flight when she arrived here.” She answered, remembering her from before.

The Miller brothers shared an alarmed look. She really must have taken a plane on her own, besides her really bad fear of heights.

“Thank you really much for the information ma’am.” Benny thanked her after breaking eye contact and looking back at her with a slight smile.

“No problem. Is there something else I can help you with?” The woman wanted to know and looked at them questioningly.

“Yes, we have a flight that was booked for later. Would it be possible to rebook it to an earlier one?” Will asked and handed her the tickets and his passport to confirm his identity.

“Let me see… yes, the last free possible flight will be in an hour. Will that be okay with you?” The woman said while looking at her computer, typing away and back up when she found something.

“That would be nice, we take it.” Will answered, letting out a breath of relief. Thank god, they didn’t have to wait for hours here or otherwise we wasn’t sure if he could stay calm any longer. He was close to the line he not wanted to cross and didn’t want to risk overstepping it. He needed to stay strong for Benny and the rest of his brothers, be the rock they needed right now, even if it wasn’t easy despite his own worries for their girl and the anger against himself for letting something happen like that. He’d make sure they got on that plane and do everything he needed till they knew she was okay and she was safe. Till he could hold her in his arms again and apologize for what they had done.

“Here you go, just look out for the announcement. The gate is down the hallway and then to your left. Have a safe flight and a good day.” She smiled and handed him the new tickets and the passport.

“Thank you for everything. Have a good day too.” He said goodbye, giving her a fake smile.

“Do you really think she would go on a plane without us?” Ben asked unsure out of nowhere, looking at Will with stormy blue eyes, that grew darker by the second like his brother’s.

The older man wished he would know the answer himself but every information they had gathered so far was pointing toward it. There was no other possible option in this moment. Why did she come here asking for the earliest flight she could get then? It wouldn’t make sense if she went somewhere else and the woman on the counter would have probably told them if she left without taking her new-booked flight. But she’d never go on a plane without at least one of them, hell it was even a thing on its own to even get her to go into it. And now she should have done that alone all of a sudden? Out of nowhere, like it wasn’t bothering her in the slightest and her anxiety didn’t exist? Will’s head started to hurt from all the overthinking he wasn’t able to stop.

“I don’t know, bro. The only thing I can say is, that everything looks like it.” He answered his brother’s question after a short silence with a sigh.

“How did it go?” Frankie greeted them and searched both of their faces for answers.

“Our flight’s in an hour.” Will answered and handed out the tickets.

“Anyone seen her?” Santiago followed with his question, hoping they’d get more information.

“The woman on the counter said Y/N wanted the earliest flight when she arrived here.” Ben explained trying to temper his mood, lifting his backwards cap to run a hand through his hair and putting it down again.

All of their movements halted and their eyebrows rose comically high on their foreheads.

“Imposible. (Impossible.)” Frankie grunted out in Spanish, not able to hold in his disbelieve any longer at the thought. Turning around with a shaking head while walking a few steps and crossing his arms over his chest.

What made her do that? What was going on with her that she would do something like that? It was so unlike her and in this moment, they felt like they didn’t even know her.

“So, what you wanna tell us is, that she went on a plane all by herself with her anxiety? The same girl that needs at least an hour till we can convince her to get into a fucking thing like that? That would rather walk by foot instead of flying?” The other Spanish man in the group spoke up to voice his thoughts about their newly found out information. Sharing the same feeling with the pilot.

“Look man, I don’t know what the fuck is going on but that is the only thing we’ve got right now and you’re not the only one who thinks how fucked up all this is. All of us know she’d rather die than go near anything that can fly but what if she really did it? There’s no other option what she could have done, otherwise that woman would have told us if she didn’t take her flight.” Will countered with slight agitation in his voice.

“All we can do now is wait anyway.” The captain of the group added and leaned back in his seat.

Not wanting to fuel the tension, the rest of the boys decided to follow Tom’s example and take a seat and wait till their flight would be announced. They’d have 6 long hours ahead of them where they could do nothing but wait and maybe try to get some more sleep.

8 PM, North Carolina, Fort Bragg

When they arrived back at the familiar soil of the Delta Force base 6 hours later, they didn’t know what bomb would be waiting there for them, ready to leave a devastation in its wake none of them could have been prepared for.

“Look who finally decided to join us!” Deryll piped up smiling upon seeing the missing Delta soldiers returning, still on the security shift with his best friend Marc.

“Did they jail your asses in that airport?” Marc joined his friend, greeting the boys laughing and giving them a wave with his hand.

Quick hugs among the men were exchanged, giving each other a pat on the back.

“The fuck are you talking about?” Ben asked afterwards, not knowing what they meant.

“We were worried we had to take care of your girl now.” Mark continued with a wide grin on his face.

The group of five exchanged confused looks for a moment. Knowing they were clearly missing something here.

“You better watch your mouth, hermano.” Santiago threatened him with a serious gaze.

“So you’re letting her fly on her own now, hm?” Deryll threw in while also grinning at his friend across.

“What is this all about?” Tom asked, having enough of being kept out of whatever this was.

“You’re joking right?” Marc said, still amused over the reaction of the men in front of them, not believing their seriousness.

Another round of looks among the boys was exchanged.

“No, we’re not. So would you mind telling us what’s going on here?” Ben spoke up, making his point clear that he wasn’t joking.

That took the two security men by surprise. Sharing a weird look with each other.

“Y/N said there was an issue with your flight, so she took the earlier one when she turned up alone here a few hours ago and we asked her about you.” Deryll explained, his smile slowly fading.

“An issue with our flight?!” Will repeated, making sure he heard correctly.

“Yeah, why?” Marc confirmed it almost in an instant, getting serious now too upon their reactions.

“Where is she?” The younger Miller brother butted in, his voice growing more desperate and serious.

“Calm down man, she’s somewhere in there.” Deryll told him, making a motion with his head toward the entrance of the base.

“Was talking and joking around with us when she arrived here, so no need to worry, dude.” Marc added to his friend’s comment, hoping it would ease up the sudden tension.

“This just gets better and better.” Tom commented sarcastically, shaking his head heavily and running a hand over his face.

“I don’t know what you’re on about but get your asses in there and look for yourself if you don’t believe us. We’ll see you later.” Marc said, crossing his arms now and opening the door for them.

“Yeah, shouldn’t keep your girl waiting!” Deryll shouted after them as loud as possible with a laugh after they walked through the entrance.

“The fuck was that?” Frankie asked confused as they walked through the base toward their bunks.

“Don’t have a fucking clue.” Will replied, shaking his head at him and shouldering his luggage a bit higher on his shoulder.

“Whatever it was, I don’t like it.” Benny commented quietly and mostly more to himself, clenching his jaw.

“We should probably teach them a lesson next time if we get a chance.” Santiago added, letting his sight wander around the base.

“There’s time for that after we reported back to the colonel. Drop off your stuff and meet at the colonel’s office.” Tom ordered and broke off to his bunk when they reached them.

“Yes, sir.” All of them said in unison before splitting and going to their own.

A few minutes later, the boys met in front of the building the colonel was in.

“Let’s get this over with.” Tom sighed and walked in first, followed by Will, Santiago, Ben and Frankie.

The group stopped again at his office, waiting patiently while Tom knocked a few times at the door.

Being beckoned in with a “Come in!”, they all entered and shut the door behind them.

“They finally let you go, hm?” They got greeted by Colonel Sanders, standing up from his chair and nodding at them. Motioning for them to take a seat if someone wanted but all declined his offer, making themselves comfortable while standing next to each other.

“I’m sorry?” Tom asked, surprised by his greeting.

“I heard about your ‘flight issues’.” The colonel elaborated, closely observing his boys.

Their once blank faces changed slightly at that and of course Sanders noticed it right away. There was something wrong, just like he had supposed before.

Standing there in silence for a very long moment, he decided to continue.

“I guess by your reactions that there weren’t any, right?”

The Delta soldiers didn’t quite know how to respond, not knowing themselves what this was all about.

“No, sir?” Ben decided to speak up but actually cringing at how it sounded.

“I thought so. You’re here to report back then?” The colonel answered, walking away a few steps from his desk, his gaze still fixated on them.

“Yes, sir.” Will confirmed, giving him a nod.

“Is there anything you wanna tell me first?” Sanders carefully asked, straightening his position and eyeing them more intently than before.

The boys’ faces immediately fell when they thought back to what they had witnessed in the smuggler’s hide-out.

“There was a little ‘incident’ when we cleared the hide-out of the smugglers.” Tom answered, trying to not make a big deal out of it.

“A ‘little incident’?!” Ben shouted out angrily and glared at their captain, not believing how he could downplay so easily what they actually had seen.

Colonel Sanders heard enough to know it must have been something really serious, for Ben and the others to act like this.

“Y/N didn’t tell me anything when I asked her. So I wanna know from you what’s going on.”

“Where is she?” The younger Miller asked with worry in his voice, ignoring the comment from the colonel and only thinking about their girl in this moment.

“None of you is leaving this office before someone has told me what the fuck happened on your mission!” Sander’s voice grew louder, making it clear how serious this conversation was and catching the guys off guard by the tone of his voice.

“We… don’t really know.” Frankie answered after a moment, looking to the ground with a guilty expression on his face.

“You don’t know?!” The colonel repeated, not knowing what he should think about it.

“We had cleared the building up to the 6th floor and were checking the 7th. Everything looked clear, we even checked it twice each but then she told us to hold our position because she thought it was not clear. We were convinced that the floor was safe too after checking it multiple times and decided to move on despite her warning and not responding through her com anymore. We got to the last floor without any problems or encounters on the way. There were just a few more guys and our target on the last one that we took care of. After making sure we were done, we headed back down where we were coming from and then… we found her on the floor below.” Will explained cautiously, fully knowing what the colonel’s reaction would be.

“Found her?” Sanders calmly asked, hating where this was going.

“She… was just laying there… with all those bodies and the blood around the floor.” Ben tried to get out, the same feeling he had back there, creeping up his body and making him sick to his stomach again.

The older gray-haired man in the room tried to keep his composure upon hearing the revelation, going back to his chair and needing to sit down for a moment.

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He trusted his boys with his life, they were his best team for a reason. How could they let something like this happen?

“When we got to her, we immediately checked if she was alive and if she had any serious injuries but we found nothing. She only had an anxiety attack and a complete breakdown right after but besides that, she physically was fine somehow. Only a slight scratch on her throat. She slept through the whole drive back to the hotel, where we took care of her gear and cleaned her up a bit since she and her clothes were completely soaked in blood. After, we decided that each of us would take turns to watch her till the next morning to make sure she was okay. Ben woke us a few hours later in the middle of the night, saying that she was gone. That’s all we knew until we tried to find her. We decided to ask around for her in the hotel first and the receptionist informed us that she had paid and checked out already hours ago and took a cab. So we asked some of the drivers outside if they had seen her and one of them said that he took her to the airport, so we went there next after we got everything sorted. My brother and I went to the ticket counter to try and ask for her, which turned out positive. The woman explained that she had been there, wanting the earliest flight when she arrived. That’s everything until we landed and went straight back here.” The older Miller continued his report, making sure to tell everything he knew and lowering his head with an almost pained look.

Now her behavior made at least a little bit more sense but still didn’t explain why she not wanted to be with them anymore.

Colonel Sanders let out a heavy sigh, folding his hands in front of him, trying to think about the best way to tell his boys what their girl had requested from him.

A deathly silence settled over the office until he decided to speak.

“I… have to tell you something.” His gruff voice already a bad omen, sounding like he was about to tell them about her death.

The rest of the men in the room all immediately picked up on the sudden change in his voice, not being used to that kind of tone but already feeling fear creeping up their spines. Not able to say something.

Sanders looked around at each of them before continuing. Making himself ready to drop the already ticking bomb over their heads to explode.

“She requested… to be moved to another team. Immediately.”

Right as the last word had left him, Benny nearly lost it completely. Clearly not expecting anything like this.

“What?!” It was the only word he was able to choke out before he felt his legs nearly giving out under him. He felt like someone had forcefully ripped his heart right out of his chest and left him to die.

His brothers didn’t take it in any different, the ground having been pulled away from right under their feet quite literally. Each of them taking in a sharp breath and needing some support from the wall behind them to keep them upright on their feet. Frankie and Santiago grabbing their caps and lowering them slowly from their heads in front of their bodies.

“This… is all just a bad joke from you and her to get back at us for what happened, right?” Ben tried to convince himself, denying this could be actually true. There was no way in hell that she actually had meant what she said.

“Do I look like I’m joking?” The colonel asked him, his expression unchanged and the same seriousness in his voice than before.

“No…. no, no, no, no, no! That’s- that can’t be…” The devastation was crystal clear in Benny’s voice. His mind completely blanked. He didn’t know what to do with what he had been told a few seconds ago.

All of their faces had turned deathly pale, completely drained from their color in a matter of a second. None of them knew what to say, what to do with that information. They just felt like someone had shot them straight in the head. Never once had any of them even thought about the one impossible thing happening.

“Why?!” The younger Miller screamed and sank on his knees to the floor with tears in his once bright blue eyes that were now swallowed whole by the same darkness that crept up inside of him in that very moment.

“Did… she say anything?” Will didn’t know how he managed to get any words out right now but somehow, they left his mouth without fully registering it.

Colonel Sanders left another heavy sigh and hung his head, knowing full well how his Delta boys must be feeling right now.

“I can’t tell you anything more than this. I’m sorry.” He apologized, hating to have to keep the promise he had given their girl.

“This must all be a mistake! This can’t… be…!” Ben continued sobbing, not being able to hold in his emotions any longer and starting to hit the ground with his right fist he had curled so tight, he could feel the nails digging in his palm and drawing blood.

“I’m so sorry. I wish I didn’t have to tell you this.” Sanders apologized again, not knowing himself what he could do to be there for them.

“Where…? Where… is she?” Having released some of his anger, Ben looked up at the colonel, tears still running down his cheeks.

“I don’t think this is a good idea right now.” The colonel sighed, knowing they probably all wanted to see her but it wouldn’t lead to something good until they at least had cooled off.

“I don’t fucking care! I wanna see her right fucking now!” Benny screamed again, raising suddenly with lightspeed to his full height with his completely shaking body.

Before he did anything he’d regret later, Will was by his side and tried to hold him back and appease him.

“Ben. You need to calm down.”

“No! How can you even stay so fucking calm after this?! Do you even fuckin’ care at all about her?!” His little brother knew fully well that he was crossing a line with this that he shouldn’t but his emotions were all over the place and he couldn’t think straight.

It was the last thread that Will had been hanging on the entire trip back. He couldn’t restrain himself any longer and finally snapped too thanks to his little brother accusing him of not caring for their girl, that was way too precious to him as well.

“You really think, I don’t fucking care about her too?!” He wasn’t able to control his rage anymore, that had been building up gradually more and more inside of him in the last minutes.

Santiago, Frankie and Tom snapped out of their paralyzed state when both of the Miller brothers were about to charge at each other. The look in their eyes one, that promised nothing but death and destruction. But before anything could happen, they intervened. Frankie grabbing and holding back Ben with all his strength and Santiago did his best together with Tom to keep Will separated from his brother.

“You gotta stop, hermano. It’ll be okay. It’ll be fine.” The pilot reasoned with him, looking him dead in the eyes.

“Stop! It won’t help if you jump at each other’s throats! You know that!” Santiago on the other side tried to get through to his friend, knowing he was the more reasonable one of the two right now.

“Enough!” Before anything more could happen, the colonel raised his voice loudly enough to get the attention of all.

“You can be thankful that this has no consequences because of her! Y/N defended all of your stubborn asses with her life when I asked her about what had happened! She even said that it wasn’t your fault!”

His statement felt like another heavy punch in the gut for the boys. Coming back to their senses again, Ben and Will looked guilty to the ground and stopped fighting against the hold of their friends that loosened their grip on them when they felt them relaxing.

None of them dared to say another word, feeling like absolute shit. So the older gray-haired man took it upon himself to continue and try to soothe them at least a little with his words, even if it wouldn’t help the deep gaping wound each of them now had inside.

“Do you think it was an easy decision for me? You think I don’t know how you feel right now too? I tried to convince Y/N to think about her decision at least for a day but she insisted and I can’t deny her that. But we all know that this girl would go through hell and back for you. She’d do anything for her possible to save your asses from whatever mess you drag yourself into. So please try to accept her decision and give her some space and time to think about it. I know it’s a lot right now but you can’t change anything about it in this moment. Go to your bunks and get some rest after all you’ve been through in the last hours. Give yourself some time to process everything and try to stay away from her for the time being. I will keep an eye on Y/N until she decides that she wants you back, you have my promise.”

The boys knew he was right, rationally. But emotionally this whole ordeal was a completely different thing. Especially for Ben, not being able to be with her, hear her voice he loved so much and could listen to from day to night and her laugh that would make his entire day when he heard it, feel and touch her soft skin on his and assured him that she was there with him, to see her smile and knowing it was because of him. All of it had been violently ripped away in a matter of seconds. He never wanted to be a second without her, always wanted to have her by his side and being reminded that someone cared about him, that she was happy and safe. Ben didn’t know if he was able to live without her, how he was supposed to continue from this.

The colonel stood up from his seat and rounded the table to give each of them a long hug, letting them know they weren’t alone in this.

“I’ll see you back here in the morning.” He said and walked back behind his table, watching them as they slowly made their way out with hanging and defeated postures. None of them capable of more than a nod as goodbye.

They went back to their bunks and waited…

…for 8 long years.

A/N: The flashback part had been sitting in my drafts for ages ever since I wrote it along the first chapter of this fic because I wasn't sure when it would fit nicely into the story or if I even wanted to incorporate it at all. But I'm excited to share it with you now and hope it was a good choice to place it here and shed some light to what actually happened from the boys' side of things! 🥰

Buckle up because we are about to go down the rabbit hole! 😎

If you enjoyed feel free to reblog, like and comment! 🥰

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#benny miller #benny miller x reader #will miller #william miller x reader #santiago garcia #santiago garcia x reader #francisco morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier x reader #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #garrett hedlund #charlie hunnam #oscar isaac #pedro pascal #IGotYourSix

[angevinyaoiz]

saw Dune 2 (2une?), and since I don't have my dune blog anymore I'll post here, since blah blah this is my place for posting about Dynastic Weirdos. This is long but NO MAJOR SPOILERS, except about like, small detail things that aren't plot things but whatever

Tbh it was disappointing. It had all the correct elements to be liked but one thing grated on me the whole time...the Bad Dialogue and lack of Elevated Speech! Why the hell were all these characters saying stuff like "these guys" "we're ok" and "literally" it took me out of the fantastical world sOOO bad. Super bummer because what I loved about Dune 1 (D-uno?) As someone who went into it before reading or knowing anything was how much it didn't explain, how it let the visuals and the world unfold before you, and how serious and somber it was in a way that gave it a sense of scale and time.

I can only wonder if WB saw all the complaints and tweets about people being like "we didn't understand the first movie!!! It wasn't funny and quippy!!!" And decided to simplify it down so characters just SAY things really obviously and inelegantly. The writing has some competence in moving the story forward but there's no poetry or rhythm to the way characters say things, it's serving "Rings of Power" scriptwriting to me lmao. And it's not like any of the actors are bad? I've seen them do well in the previous movie and in other things, so wtf was going on with the direction. I know people complained Abt Villeneuve saying that whole thing about being more into visuals than dialogue but maybe he was right...there needed to be LESS WORDS. bc much of the words we had were NOT GOOD.

Positivity: the middle and latter part was where the movie picked up for me. The Harkonnen Freak Villain behavior was everything I could have wanted! Finally instead of EXPLAINING everything obviously we got to see a LOT of character building, for Feyd specifically in a very short amount of time. I know a lot of us complained about Bald Feyd-Rautha but Mr Elvis did a very good job. And we got Madame Fenring and weird scifi femdomming finally, which is Essential for the Duniverse! Wonderful fantastic no notes.

Of course, getting back to our heroes, I anticipated this 2 years ago sadly and it was true...the Fremen were badass but SWAGLESS. More Learned ppl have already written about the frustration with the erasure of the Arabic/North African cultural presence so I won't reiterate that here since I'm not super knowledgeable about the specifics of that but even as a casual watcher there was a weird emptiness to the way I feel the society was portrayed. There were individual good character moments, such as fun bantering among the Fedaykin etc, but for Pacing or Whatever they cut out the community aspects that served to make them feel more like well, a People rather than just either Grizzled Soldiers/ Religious Fundamentalists aka Marks/Panicked refugees. I have to guess this was ppl were like "we can't show a culture too cool and colorful and the part with Harrah (Jamis' widow) would feel too ORIENTALIST!!! But the result is something sadly very dry. At least in more older orientalist works, the interest comes from when the ~exotic~ stereotypes figures are able to have charming personalities and personalities and be known as people despite the cliches sometimes but this sadly wasn't even like that....

Jamis' funeral is a good example of this; in the Book, it's a moment where you first get a good look of what rituals are like in this world, and how people relate to each other and to the dead. In the movie, the funeral is looks more foreign and even a little creepy as the water is extracted from the body. There's not really a Personal or community connection aspect to it at all.

The ending was pretty good as it satisfied all the Cool Dune Moments I think we all wanted to see, and also did literally the end of The Godfather Part 1 Framing which was hee hee heh. Anyways, Messiah is MY favorite book of the series personally so curious how they get to that.

Maybe I've been too spoiled by Cool Historical Fiction lately? I've been watching too much of The Devil's Crown where action happens mostly off screen but the dynastic drama is written and acted so compellingly, the historical mindset and setting so alien and yet so human and relatable, it's frustrating to see when works try to do the opposite? Idk??? Dune books themselves is fun in how action is mostly an "offscreen, offstage"' thing.

*if ANYONE in the Universe is a quippy Bastard, it should be Leto II esp in God Emperor where he literally has nothing to do all day but quip all day to terrified acolytes

#Dune 2 #dune part 2 #dune 2024 #2une #Long post #My writing #Not really spoilers in this?

[boygiwrites]

Harley D. Dixon 16

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📖Chapter List.

Author's Note. This is the longest chapter yet! Just shy of 10,000 words!

For the first time in forever, we're blessed with a slow day.

The sun crests over the clouds in the early afternoon, glazing the Greene house and its golden paddocks in a soft, buttery glow. Slow once meant boring, but now it means peace. My Dad's awake now, albeit bed-bound, but he's more or less as healthy as a horse. I don't need to keep glancing at his pale form anymore, watching for disaster. Not having that threat of death lurking around the farm makes the air feel so much clearer. I can finally relax a little. I think everyone feels the same relief. There's one less problem ready to strike at us.

Maggie lets me use the guest bathroom to take a hot shower in the afternoon.

After helping me tape a scrap of plastic over my stitches to ensure they stay dry, she lends me some fruit-scented shampoo and body lotion, assuring me she'll be right downstairs if I need anything else. I luxuriate under the warm water for some time, suds-ing up my dirty blonde hair and scrubbing the dirt form underneath my fingernails. I feel my muscles let go of all my tension in real time. It's the best feelin' ever.

I tweak the water off and step out onto the green bath-mat, face to face with my reflection in the mirror.

Last time I got a proper look at myself, I was dying in the back of the RV. I look at myself again; at my healthy, clean complexion.

"Hey," A girly voice calls out gently from behind the door — Beth, I think. "I got you a spare shirt, if you want. Is white your color?"

I look down at myself. "I'm more of a beige color."

She laughs. "No, silly. I meant... never mind. I'll leave it here for you."

After her footsteps recede down the corridor, I fetch the shirt, close the door, and hold it up in front of me. It's a tight, white blouse with frills down the front of it, and two, tiny puff-ball sleeves that each look a little like a lily-of-the-valley flower. I peel the plastic off my side and pull the shirt on — almost a perfect fit, but a little loose — combined with my blue jean-shorts, socks, and yellow rain boots.

I clomp back downstairs and into Dad's room, where he's trying to read a book he found in the bedside drawer, but failing.

It must be a romance. He hates that sort of thing.

I ask him if he wants to do my hair instead, and he agrees to the distraction right away.

With the window wide open to the smells of sweet pollen and farm life, I sit between his legs as he brushes my hair. I'm just so glad he's alright. He gives me two neat braids, ties them off with my hair lackeys, and then I ask Maggie for a pair of scissors so Dad can trim my bangs up a little. She's hesitant at first, but I tell her that my Dad's been cuttin' my hair since, well, I had any hair to cut, and that he's actually not half-bad.

She lends me some kitchen scissors, and I happily thank her.

I make myself comfortable on the bed, on top of a towel to catch the clippings, and I snack on a red apple as Dad cleans up my out-grown, wonky bangs. He tells me he's rusty, but he does a good job. They'd gotten long in our weeks on the road, but they look much better now.

After my hair's done, I kiss his cheek goodbye and head outside.

I find Carl over by the shed. He's playing on the swing that hangs from the burly tree growing beside it in a ray of sunlight.

"Hey, Harley." He greets me, digging his heel in the dirt to slow down. "Want me to push you?"

I smile, "Yeah, okay."

We exchange places, and he gives me a gentle push.

I can see Rick over by the tents, talking to everyone. He's probably sharing the disappointing news that it really was Shane that shot my Dad, so that everyone's on the same page. We're not supposed to tell the Greenes about this discovery. We need to make a good impression, and having a trigger-happy murderer in our group ain't the best way to achieve that. It's better if they continue believing it was Otis that caused all this, otherwise we're gonna get booted to the streets again. I never wanna go back to living that way. We need this place, for Sophia.

I don't wanna talk about Shane, so I won't bring him up.

Nobody's told Carl about any of it, anyway.

"I didn't even know this swing was here." I say as I enjoy the breeze on my freshly washed skin. "This is just like the one I used to have."

"I never had a swing." He muses as he pushes me again. "I miss playgrounds."

"Betcha don't miss school, though."

"Eugh. No." He exclaims. "My Mom still makes me do homework sometimes. It sucks."

I remember doing all those spelling quizzes and math problems back at the quarry. I don't miss it one bit.

I ask him, "What grade was you in, before?"

What grade 'were' you in, Lori would correct me, not 'was'. It always annoyed me when she did that.

"Sixth." He answers. "What grade were you in?"

"I was in second grade."

"Second grade?!"

"Yeah. What grade did you think I was in?"

"I dunno. Five, maybe?"

"I'm eight." I giggle. "You're twelve. We can't be in the same grade."

"But we're friends." He counters. "I've never been friends with someone outside of my grade before."

"Well," I sing-song, "Now you have."

"Even my cousins were the same age as me."

"Mine were all older."

I haven't thought about my cousins in forever. They're all on my Momma's side, from her two brothers. There was Vicky and Tobias, the twins. They were super old. Like, fifteen. Then there was Hunter, and Lillian, and Georgia. I miss them the most. They always treated me nice.

I've never had friends or family younger than me before. I've always been the baby. Even here, that still hasn't changed.

As I'm gazing out onto the distant cornfields, swinging back and forth relaxingly, Maggie approaches us with a friendly wave.

"Hey, y'all." She smiles. "Havin' fun out here?"

We both notice her, and answer, yeah, at the same time.

"Who built this swing?" Carl asks her. "It's awesome."

"My Daddy built it, a long time ago," Maggie fondly says. "When I was just a little girl. Nice to see it gettin' some use, again."

"I reckon I could touch the sun." I hum to myself, looking at the sky.

She chuckles. "Don't go testing that theory. Your Dad would kill us all."

"You wanna play with us?"

"I actually wanted to ask you guys somethin'. I heard from Daryl just now that you found a walker in one'a our wells today?"

Oh, yeah. That ugly thing.

Carl corrects, "Technically, I found it."

I roll my eyes. "Don't be a smart-ass."

"Hey. That's a swear word."

"It's fine. My Daddy don't care 'bout swears."

"I was just wondering which well it was." Maggie interjects. "We've got quite a few around here, and I don't wanna search them all."

"Oh, it was the one near the barn." Carl says, pointing in that direction.

I ask her, "What are you gonna do with it?"

"I talked to Rick about it, and we reckon we're gonna try using a winch to pull it out. Can't have it dirtying up the water."

"What's a winch?"

"It's like a really long, metal rope you can attach to a car." She explains. "We've had ours for years, and luckily for us, it hasn't rusted."

I bring myself to a stop, widening my eyes. "Can we come watch?"

"Yeah!" Carl enthuses. "Can we?"

"Sure ya can. I don't see why not."

With a small cheer, we abandon the swing and follow Maggie across the field, rambling about all the gross stuff we think is gonna happen.

Everyone pitches in to help clear the well, except for Shane. He's off somewhere, brooding.

At first, we try dangling a chunk of canned ham over its head to see if that'll get its attention, but since canned ham don't bleed, kick, or scream when you bite into it, the walker doesn't want anything to do with it. We realize we'll need live bait, and for some reason, everyone's eyes fall onto Glenn. He thinks that's super unfair, but he is all better now, and he does have the fastest reflexes out of all of us.

"Have I mentioned that I really like your new haircut?" He smiles lopsidedly at me, thinking I'll save him. "Really suits your face."

"Don't worry about it." Rick reassures him. "You'll have four of us on the rope. We're gonna get you outta there in one piece."

"One living piece." He emphasizes. "The living part's important."

Dale drives over the car they're gonna use for the process, while Andrea retrieves a thick coil of rope, making Glenn go pale at the sight of it.

Rick and Jacqui start wrapping it around his body.

"We'll give you the winch." Rick says. "Just try wrappin' it around its neck."

He sighs in defeat, "Let's get this over with."

As soon as he's in the well, he's screaming bloody murder.

If not for the suspenseful atmosphere, it would be super funny. Me and Carl watch from the sidelines as Rick, Maggie, Andrea, and T-Dog work together to lower Glenn into the well with nothing more than a rope looped around his midriff to keep him from falling to his death. Dale sits in the driver's seat of Maggie's Subaru, waiting for the signal to start reversing. There's a mechanical lookin' thing attached to the bumper. It looks like a garden hose, but it's made of metal. It must be the winch. The end of it leads into the well.

"You people are crazy!" His disembodied, terrified voice shouts from below. "This is crazy!"

"We got you!" Andrea calls out.

Rick grunts, "Give us an eye, Maggie."

At the front of the line, Maggie peers in. "Doin' okay?"

"Can't believe I'm saying this," His wimpy voice echoes, "But I need to be lower."

"Lower." Maggie parrots.

They all shuffle forward a couple steps — a couple too many steps, apparently.

"Higher!" He shrieks. "Higher!"

The rope strains against the cobble as it's tugged again, backwards this time.

I chew my fingernail nervously.

"Can you get it around that thing?" T-Dog asks, sweating. "Sometime today, please?"

"Fuck you!"

Me and Carl exchange glances, biting down shocked giggles. This is the first time I've ever heard Glenn say, Fuck.

"How's that now, Glenn?"

He takes some time to answer, grunting, "Living the dream, thanks."

"Just get the winch around its neck." Rick coaches calmly, "Easy as pie. Then clip it onto itself, and it should secure."

We wait with bated breath as he wrangles the walker.

After about a minute, he calls out again.

"That's it! It's on! Pull me up! Pull me up!"

"Get him up!"

"Pull! Pull!"

"Come on!"

They wrestle with gravity to lift him back out the well, struggling in unison as Dale reverses. The winch immediately pulls taut. It creaks loudly, mixing with the sound of the engine and Glenn's panicked screaming to create the worst, most cacophonic song I ever head, and I've had to listen to my Dad's favorite music all my life. We cheer them on anxiously, watching closely in anticipation. The grass begins to split under their boots from the force. Just as the rope is about to give way, T-Dog gives one last powerful tug.

"That's it!" He says, "Come on, grab him!"

Glenn scrambles over the lip of the well, panicked, as me and Carl rush forward to help everyone pull him out.

"You okay?!" I ask him.

"God, get me out." He cringes. "Get me out."

As he lands on his ass, soaking wet from being splashed, the walker is next in line to be pulled from the depths.

It gets caught on the edge of the wall like a thousand-pound pinata.

"More force!" Rick orders.

Dale stomps on the gas, making the tyres squeal.

"Come on, you ugly thing." He goads. "Come on."

As the winch begins to cut into the walker's neck, the growling is hitched suddenly, replaced by choking.

Its eyeballs bulge under the pressure.

The engine revs once more, and Rick ushers us out the way. "Get back! Get back!"

All of a sudden, the well cracks and breaks apart around the walker's fat body as it's dragged out onto the grass. Rick's on it before I can even blink. He unsheathes his knife and sinks it into the mushy, water-logged skull with a satisfying squish. At last, the darn thing goes limp.

We all catch our breaths as he stands.

Dale turns off the engine.

"It's uglier in the sunlight." Carl muses, revolted.

No doubt about that. It's disgusting.

Eventually, Glenn deadpans a celebratory, "Anybody thirsty?"

There's a weak chorus of laughter amongst us.

I stand next to Dale and Glenn, watching as Rick and T-Dog drag the walker off the property.

"You know," Dale ponders aloud, "Did they ever mention how that thing fell down there in the first place?"

Mmm... Nope.

No, they didn't.

"This whole farm is fenced off." He continues, thoughtful. "How could a big thing like that just wonder in?"

"Maybe it's been there since before the fences." Glenn guesses. "They might've put them up after everything."

"No," Dale hums. "I was talking to Herschel about it yesterday... He said it was all built in the seventies and they do maintenance every month."

The walker is silently dumped on the ground.

All Dale muses is, "...Strange."

"And then it exploded!!"

My Dad's eyes widen.

"Just kiddin'," I giggle. "Rick stabbed it in the brain."

"I was gonna say." He scoffs. "Explodin' walkers? That'll be the day."

Dad missed out on the action of the well today, so I decided to recount the whole thing to him after. I left out the part about Glenn screaming like a baby goat, though, 'cause I think he'd appreciate that. He's already got enough humiliation for a lifetime with the whole jerky fiasco.

"You really believed me?" I grin, shaking my head. "Actually, I ain't surprised. If you believe in chupacabras, you'll believe anythin'."

He smirks, "Watch yer mouth, girl."

"Whatever." I keep giggling. "I gotta go now, Dad."

"See ya later, baby. Stay where people can see ya."

Carl uses the situation to convince Rick to let him carry a gun. I don't know why he wants one so bad, but he sure is stubborn.

"What if another walker gets in?" He needles. "I need to be able to protect myself."

"Under different circumstances, I'd consider it." Rick explains. "But for starters, I promised Herschel no firearms on his property."

"But—"

"I've also been reassured that this was a one-time thing, Carl. Nothing else is getting onto this farm anytime soon. You don't need to worry."

"I'm not worrying." He argues. "I'm just tryna be smart, like you guys."

"You are smart. I know you are. That's why you're gonna let this go."

With a great big groan, Carl rolls his eyes.

From over by the campfire where he's polishing his pistol, Shane throws in his two cents. "Might not be a bad idea, Rick."

He looks over at him. "What?"

"You know we're both certified instructors. Plenty of land 'round here that ain't Herschel's. We could set up a shooting range, see how it goes."

I scoff hearing that, anger rising up inside me.

"Yeah, you'd know all about shooting things, wouldn't you, Shane?" I snarl sassily.

There's a very stiff, very awkward pause between us all. It's lucky it's just us around, and not any of the Greenes. I guess I wasn't thinking, but when my temper flares up, I never think before I speak. That's how you know I'm my Dad's daughter, I suppose. Shane stares at me like I've just slapped him sideways across the face. I glower at him; a seething, hurt look I've never directed at him before, one I know will pain him. He knows he's broken whatever it was he'd built between us with this stunt. He's damn right I don't wanna be his friend anymore.

It's so frustrating that we all know what he did, but none of us can do anything about it. He gets away with everything.

At least I can hurt him with words.

Rick sees that I'm getting angrier by the second and puts a comforting hand on my back.

"Huh?" Carl asks, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Carl." Rick warns.

"No, I wanna know. What did you mean?"

"He shot my Dad, is what I mean." I exclaim, heated. "He was gonna leave him out in the woods to bleed to death. Ain't nothin' more than a murderer."

Carl's gaze snaps onto Shane, a look of betrayal skirting over his features.

"It was you?"

"Carl, it's already been discussed." Rick tries calming him down. "What's done is done. It's over."

"Why'd you do it?"

"Listen, buddy," Shane placates, for some reason looking at me when he does. "Sometimes things just happen. Heat of the moment."

"Weren't no 'heat of the moment'." I shout. "You followed him through the woods for hours!"

"I didn't—"

Carl taunts, "You gonna shoot my Dad next?"

"This is gettin' outta hand." Rick intervenes, standing up from the picnic table. "Come on. Let's go cool off. Both of you."

"I hate you." I call out to Shane as I'm pulled off the bench. "I fucking hate you!"

He doesn't even have anything to say. There's nothing he can say. He ducks his head, unable to look my way, and once Rick gets himself in my line of sight, I can't see his guilty expression anymore and I don't care to. I shove Rick off. He respects that I don't want him crowding me so much and opts for just holding my hand, instead, telling me everything's alright. My eyes well up, lip wobbling. I hate people seeing me cry, but Rick's probably seen Carl cry a whole bunch of times. I don't need to be too embarrassed. He would never judge.

He guides us both toward the side of the house.

"Here." He gently says as we approach a trough of clean water. "Wash your face off a bit. It'll feel good."

"I can't believe you didn't tell me." Carl frowns. "Were you ever gonna?"

I splash some water onto my already wet cheeks, catching my breath.

"Shane's been with us for a very long time." Rick confesses, "I didn't know how to break somethin' like that to you, but yes, we were going to."

"What does Mom think?" He pouts.

Rick nods. "She's disappointed."

I dry my face off with my shirt, mumbling pettily, "Murderers go to prison, y'know. They don't just sit around, cleanin' guns."

"What are you gonna do, Dad? Is he just gonna stay here?"

"Do you want him to?"

Carl seems torn on how to answer. "W—Well, yeah, but you don't usually get to choose, right?"

"We do now." Rick tells us both. "Lots of people make mistakes. Shane's definitely made a mistake by doin' this. I recognise that. But things are different. We need each other to survive out here. We need this place to survive. Putting that at risk will be hurting us, too."

"He's sorry, right?"

Rick doesn't know how to answer that one.

"I hate him." I sniff, miserable. "I can't look at him no more."

He gives me sympathetic look, rubbing my back.

"We can't kick him out." Carl worries. "He's our family."

Everybody is someone's family. My Dad's a murderer, and he's my family. That's why I forgive him. I guess that's why Rick, Lori, and Carl forgive Shane, too, even though they're angry like I am. I wish I could have that gene for moving on, but I just don't. Shane ain't my blood.

"Things are weird right now." Rick admits. "I know. But we just have to stick through it for a while."

"Until when?" I demand. "When's it gonna be okay that he tried to kill my Dad?"

"Never." He appeases. "You have every right to be upset with him. I just want to secure our place here, first."

"How you gonna do that?"

"I'm going to talk to Herschel tonight."

"And then what?" I spit sarcasm. "My Dad can have at him?"

"It's tricky, Harley. I can't kick Shane out. I can't kick you an' your Dad out. I can't have you around each other. There's no good option, here."

"When my Dad's all better, he's gonna kill him." I grind out. "That's a good option."

"No, Harley, it's not." He sighs patiently. "Two wrongs don't make a right."

"Why the Hell not?"

"Because I will not allow murder within the camp. That's a line we do not cross. Ever."

"Then kick Shane out!" I scream in his face, as if that'll make him listen better, turning on my heel and storming away.

With anger coursing through my veins, I search the farm for Shane.

He made himself scarce after Rick forced us to give him some space, but I'll find him. I don't know what I'm gonna do once that happens, but the first step is to find him. Maybe I'll shout at him. Maybe I'll punch him in the face. Yeah, that's good. I'll do that. I'll break his nose, just like my Daddy did. I ask Jacqui if she's seen Shane anywhere, and then I ask Andrea, and Beth, and even Jimmy. They all give vague, unsure answers, but they all mention the direction of the back gate, so that's where I go. I'm an arrow, soaring toward its target.

Sure as shit, I find him on the outskirts of the farm. He's sitting in the neglected, tall grass, staring out onto the distant sunset.

When I see him rub the heel of his palm over his eye, I realize he's crying.

I approach him from behind, not caring how loud my raging footsteps are.

When I'm within ten feet of him, he starts to turn around, sighing, "Rick, listen—"

"It's me!" I shove him harshly, surprising him. "And yer lucky it is, 'cause if I was him, I'd kick you out right now!"

Shocked, he faces me with wide, wet eyes.

"Scratch that, I'd kill ya!" I seethe. "Just 'cause my Dad survived, don't make you any less of a murderer! That's what you are!"

"Harley—"

"I don't wanna hear nothin' you have to say, no more." We're nowhere near the main part of the farm. From here, the house looks like a miniature. The sky is open wide. I can scream all I want, and nobody will be the wiser. "I don't care. You can't say sorry for somethin' like this! Everybody knows what you did, Shane! Rick knows, Carl knows, Lori knows, I know!" My voice cracks. "I gotta live with it! With you!"

I don't care that he's been crying. He could cry an ocean of tears, and I still wouldn't care.

"When my Daddy comes for you," I shout, "I won't stop him. Ya hear me? I won't!"

As soon as my Dad's better, this place will become a hunting ground. As long as one of 'em is alive, the other won't stop 'till they're dead.

A flash of violence glints over his eyes when I say this. This was never his plan. If he had things his way, not only would that bullet have gone straight into my Dad's head, but I'd also probably be mourning in his arms right now, letting him replace what he'd made sure I'd lost.

"I did what I did for you." He snarls, offended. "I did it to protect you. You think this is what I want, Harley?"

"I know it's what you want. You're a fucking murderer."

"Yeah? I want my best friend lookin' at me like he doesn't even know who I am, anymore? I want you tellin' me that you hate me?" His lip curls around his biting words. "That's what I want? I'll let'chu in on a little secret, here, Harley. I don't. This is Hell for me, too!"

I shove him again, but he doesn't retaliate. He takes it; deserves it, even.

"You can't protect nobody!"

I smack him again.

"Nobody!"

"Harley—"

"I was your friend!"

"Fuck!"

I punch him square in his stupid face.

He grunts under the sheer impact, his hand going to his nose. He pants, dumbfounded. His fingers come away wet, red; bloody. I stand there, huffing and puffing, my knuckles sore, as he looks up at me like he doesn't recognise me. His eyes are wide pools of incomprehension. I-I just punched him. I have never in my life punched an adult, before. It feels good. It feels really, really good. It feels better than just washing my face off, that's for sure. Sometimes, two wrongs do make a right. I know, 'cause I'm starting to grin, now. Rage, to me, feels like a medicine.

He gulps, blood trickling down into his gaping mouth. He frowns lightly at me.

"That make you feel better?" He asks without venom, as if he's genuinely curious; as if he's got an idea.

"It did." I breathe. "Made me feel a whole lot better."

He pauses.

Then, he mutters, "Do it again."

"What?"

"Hit me again." He shuffles onto his haunches, presenting his bloody face to me like a prize. "Hit me again, Harley. Do it."

I hesitate at first, not believing this is really happening, but then I see that he's serious. He cups his hands around both his knees, ready to be my punching bag. He raises his chin; takes a deep breath. For once, this isn't a trick. This is plain, raw indulgence. The slithering delight of violence is all mine to take. I feel it building up inside of me again, fighting to be let out. I slowly curl my fist again, rearing it back into the air.

I bring it down onto his face again with a dull, painful thud.

He straightens again.

I lay into him for a third time, and a fourth, and a fifth. I think of Dad's unconscious body, the sound of the gunshot, and the way he was tip-toeing alongside death for three whole days. I think about how Shane almost took my Dad away from me forever, and I make him hurt.

By the time I'm done with him, his cheek is already turning an ugly green-brown color, bright blood smeared across his chin.

That's the best thing I've done all week.

He sits back down in the grass, adjusting his jaw, groaning, "Where'd you learn to hit like that?"

"My Dad." I pointedly spit. "Taught me to punch people who are mean to me."

He chuckles weakly, accepting my punishing words instead of arguing. "Well, you got me."

"This don't change nothin'."

"I know it doesn't." He pants. "No matter how many times you hit me, you're Dad's still a fuckin—"

"I told you I don't wanna hear it."

"A fucking asshole." He finishes. "Hell, he's no better'un Ed was. You— You wanna know the difference between him an' me?"

I refuse to answer, glaring at him.

"I have never hit you." He says, knowing I can't argue with a fact. He's infuriating, that way. "Hate me all ya want, but... I've never hit you."

We stay like that for a strangely painful and gaping moment, face to face with each other's honest presence.

In the distance, we hear people calling for me.

He sniffs wetly, bringing his shirt up to clean his face. "Best you get back, now."

"Harley, where'd you go?"

"Harley!"

"Harley!"

As a parting goodbye, right before I walk away, I mumble, "You can't protect nobody."

He doesn't come back to the farm until after dinner.

Rick's a little angry when I return to the farm, but he hears me out.

"I just went on a walk," I fib, hiding my bloody knuckles. "To calm down."

"Are you alright?" Lori fusses.

I smile. "Yeah, I'm... I'm really good."

They glance at each other, but it looks like the matter is already settled.

"Come on, then." He sighs. "Dinner's almost ready."

Lori grabs my clean hand and leads me toward the house.

"You need to reconsider." Rick comes out and says that night, helping the Greenes clear the dining table.

Herschel frowns, "I beg your pardon?"

"Asking us to leave." He sets the dirty dishes down in the sink, and then turns to face him, his arms crossed. "You need to reconsider."

At least he wasn't lying, I think to myself as I finish off the last of my peas. This is him following through on what he promised me he'd do.

"If you saw what it's like out there," Rick continues, "You wouldn't ask. You're a man of belief. If you believe anything, believe that."

"You're putting me on the spot, here, Rick."

He doesn't back down.

"Well, I mean to. Those people out there look to me for answers. I wish they didn't, but they do. That includes Harley."

Herschel glances at me, a soft look in his eyes.

"After everything that's happened," Rick doubles down, "The least you can do is reconsider."

"You're a plain-spoken man."

"I'm just doing what's best for my people." He humbly says. "We've been to Hell and back these past few months. This whole journey started for us when Harley got scratched by one of the dead, right in the beginning. We honestly believed that we were going to have a child's blood on our hands. You don't forget somethin' like that. I know I won't. I know her father won't, either. Now I fear the same thing might happen with Sophia. I know you're a man of good morals, a man of faith. You got two girls of your own. If you kick us out when Daryl's better — before we can have a good chance at finding Sophia — Then this time, I'd say the blood will be on your hands. Not ours."

Herschel is confronted by his words, glancing over at Beth and Maggie, the apples of his eye, as they clean dishes together.

"Will you consider my request?"

"There are... aspects to this." Herschel says. "Things I can't and will not discuss. But if you and your people respect my rules... I will reconsider."

I try not to let my excitement show on my face.

Rick smiles. "We will. You have my word."

Herschel nods. "And you have mine."

Dad's still reading the book when I go into his room that night and change into my pyjamas.

"Dad, guess what?"

He hums.

"Rick got Herschel to think about lettin' us stay longer." I smile, stepping into my sleep shorts. "We might not have to leave."

He lowers the book at that, a sceptical look on his face. "He did?"

"Yeah." I pull on my shirt and hop on the bed, taking out my braids. "You know what that means?"

"What?"

"Shane can get punished, and the Greenes won't care."

As I move onto the second braid, content with this development, I don't notice my Dad looking over me, a dark look in his eyes.

"Baby?"

"Yeah?"

"What's that?"

He grunts as he sits up slightly, reaching out to grab my wrist. I look down at it, only now noticing a tiny speckle of Shane's blood on one of my knuckles. Damn it. I thought I got it all off when I washed my hands this evening, but I must've missed a spot. I lick my thumb and wipe it away.

My gaze averted, I confess, "I punched Shane today."

"You what?" He scolds harshly.

"I punched him a whole heap of times, actually." I say somewhat proudly. "He let me. He said it would make me feel better."

He looks like he wants to strangle something.

He demands, "Who else was there?"

I realize I might actually be in trouble for this, and I mumble, "Uh... No-one."

"Fuckin' Hell, Harley." He groans, rubbing a hand down his face. He drops it, revealing a deep frown. "You stay away from him, okay?"

"But, you said—"

"Don't back-talk me, girl. You know what he's capable of, and ya still went and talked to him."

"I wasn't nice to him, Daddy. I promise. I was real mad."

"A guy like that, it don't matter." He insists. "He gets in ya fuckin' head, Harley. He already has. Do not do that shit again. Ya hearin' me?"

"Yes, Dad."

"Creepy piece'a shit." He grumbles to himself as he sits back, taking a deep breath. "You remember what I did to Ronnie?"

Chewing my lip, I murmur, "Yeah."

"And how you weren't scared of me, after?"

"Uh-huh."

He nods. "Well, keep that in mind."

"Why?"

"'Cause I told you to. Now, c'mon. Time for bed." He lifts up the covers for me, and after blowing out the candle, I wiggle myself in beside him. This will be our last sleep in the house. Herschel reckons Dad will be able to walk tomorrow, and after that, we're gonna get kicked outside with everyone else. I don't mind. I can't wait to sleep under the stars again. Once I'm comfortable, he offers, "You want me to sing you to sleep?"

I nod, closing my eyes.

His soft words begin to fill the quiet room, a pretty echo of an old life.

"Hush little baby, don't say a word... Daddy's gonna buy you a mockingbird."

"He-lloooo, farmer's daughter."

The next morning, I send Glenn an unimpressed look from my seat on the porch.

"Gross, Glenn."

He continues peering through his binoculars at Maggie as she rides up the road.

I roll my eyes and go back to eating my small breakfast of peach jam on toast.

They're going on a run today. Between me, T-Dog, and my Dad's injuries, the painkillers and antibiotics have run out pretty quickly. He's gonna try walking today, so he'll definitely need them more than usual. They're going to check out a nearby pharmacy for more. I asked if I could go with them, but Rick, Dad, and Lori all answered me with a synchronized scolding of, No, so that idea's out the window.

As Lori comes up the porch steps, Glenn startles, trying to hide his obvious spying.

"Oh, h-hey, Lori. Nice morning, huh?"

She raises a brow. "I'm not even gonna ask."

"You got the list?"

"Yeah. Here it is." She hands him a crumpled slip of paper, glancing around, lowering her voice. "And there's one other item on there."

He unfolds it, reading down the scrawled words.

"I wrote it down separately. It's personal. If we could be real discreet about that, okay?"

When he makes it to the bottom, his eyes go wide.

"Uh, s-sure." He promises. "I just need to know where to find it."

"Try the feminine hygiene section."

His cheeks go a little pink, but he nods, "Consider it done."

"What is it?" I nosey.

"Just some lady products." She brushes it off, taking a seat beside me. "Don't worry about it."

Glenn mutters, "Can I ask... Whose—?

"No." She chides.

He nervously gives up on his question. "O-Okay."

Maggie makes it to the front of the house, leading another horse alongside hers for Glenn. He quickly snatches up his backpack and rifle, heading down the steps. We watch as he clumsily mounts the saddle with some coaching from Maggie, which makes us both giggle.

He gets it, eventually.

As they trot down the path together, Lori gives me an amused look. "He's totally sweet on her."

I scrunch up my nose. "Don't put me off my food."

"Sorry," She laughs.

Later in the morning, I join Andrea on the roof of the RV as she stands watch.

Looking through her binoculars, she mutters to herself, "What is he doing?"

I frown. "What is it?"

She hands them to me, and I peer through the lenses in the direction she was facing, met with the peculiar sight of Dale on the border of the farm, kicking a fence post. He continues along the line, giving the next one a firm shake. I lower the binoculars, mildly entertained.

"I think he's investigating." I snicker to myself.

"Investigating?" Andrea looks at me, confused. "Investigating what?"

"He thinks something's up with the fences." I tell her, watching his distant figure move onto the next one. "I guess he means to find out what."

She laughs. "He's gonna break a toe if he's not careful."

I've never known anyone nosier than Dale Horvath.

In the afternoon, Glenn and Maggie return with everything on the list.

Dad insists that he don't even need the painkillers, but he gets forced by Maggie to take 'em, anyway. We wait half an hour for the pills to kick in, and then after some more arguing from Dad's end about how he can do it on his own, he yanks the IV needle out his arm and scoots onto the edge of the bed. With some effort and a few heavy grunts, he manages to get onto his feet, wobbling only slightly.

I cheer him on, making him smile a little.

We trail him out onto the back porch, hovering nearby in case he falters, but he stands strong the whole way.

He breathes in the fresh air. "Almost forgot what real life smelt like."

I pace around the house with him as Maggie and Glenn clear out all evidence of him ever existing in the guest room.

Herschel checks him over one last time and gives him the official green-light to return to life as usual.

We all spend about half an hour pitching a tent and driving over all our chairs, rucksacks, and other belongings to a nice spot on the far reaches of the property, under a patch of healthy, green trees, per Dad's request. It'll make the walk to camp that much longer, but he's willing to deal with it. He makes it very clear that he doesn't wanna be within a hundred fuckin' feet of Shane. Maggie and Glenn express vehement understanding.

"He's like a bomb waitin' to go off, that man." She scoffs, setting the last item, a crate, down in the dirt. "Don't know why you keep him around."

Dad mutters sardonically, "He's popular in the Grimes department."

"Well, if he was in my group," She drawls, "He would've been gone days ago."

"Trust me, I share the fuckin' sentiment." He takes the last bag from Glenn. "I got it."

"You sure, man?"

He grunts uncomfortably as he tosses it into the tent. "Yeah, I'm sure. Don't need no babysitters. I'm fine."

"Well, that's everything." Maggie sighs. "Come back to the house for dinner tonight. We're havin' veggie soup and grilled cheese."

"I think I've had more than enough of that house for a lifetime."

"Half an hour won't kill ya." She rolls her eyes. "Do it for Carol. She made it happen, after all. We'll see ya then, okay? Bye, Harley."

"See ya later." I smile, giggling as Glenn flicks my ear as they both walk off.

Dad settles down in his camping chair, hissing.

I ask him, "Ya feelin' alright?"

"Yeah, baby. Just sore. Start a fire, will ya?"

"Sure thing," I say, turning away into the treeline to search for twigs.

In the afternoon, Glenn and Maggie return with everything on the list.

Dad insists that he don't even need the painkillers, but he gets forced by Maggie to take 'em, anyway. We wait half an hour for the pills to kick in, and then after some more arguing from Dad's end about how he can do it on his own, he yanks the IV needle out his arm and scoots onto the edge of the bed. With some effort and a few heavy grunts, he manages to get onto his feet, wobbling only slightly.

I cheer him on, making him smile a little.

We trail him out onto the back porch, hovering nearby in case he falters, but he stands strong the whole way.

He breathes in the fresh air. "Almost forgot what real life smelt like."

I pace around the house with him as Maggie and Glenn clear out all evidence of him ever existing in the guest room.

Herschel checks him over one last time and gives him the official green-light to return to life as usual.

We all spend about half an hour pitching a tent and driving over all our chairs, rucksacks, and other belongings to a nice spot on the far reaches of the property, under a patch of healthy, green trees, per Dad's request. It'll make the walk to camp that much longer, but he's willing to deal with it. He makes it very clear that he doesn't wanna be within a hundred fuckin' feet of Shane. Maggie and Glenn express vehement understanding.

"He's like a bomb waitin' to go off, that man." She scoffs, setting the last item, a crate, down in the dirt. "Don't know why you keep him around."

Dad mutters sardonically, "He's popular in the Grimes department."

"Well, if he was in my group," She drawls, "He would've been gone days ago."

"Trust me, I share the fuckin' sentiment." He takes the last bag from Glenn. "I got it."

"You sure, man?"

He grunts uncomfortably as he tosses it into the tent. "Yeah, I'm sure. Don't need no babysitters. I'm fine."

"Well, that's everything." Maggie sighs. "Come back to the house for dinner tonight. We're havin' veggie soup and grilled cheese."

"I think I've had more than enough of that house for a lifetime."

"Half an hour won't kill ya." She rolls her eyes. "Do it for Carol. She made it happen, after all. We'll see ya then, okay? Bye, Harley."

"See ya later." I smile, giggling as Glenn flicks my ear as they both walk off.

Dad settles down in his camping chair, hissing.

I ask him, "Ya feelin' alright?"

"Yeah, baby. Just sore. Start a fire, will ya?"

"Sure thing," I say, turning away into the treeline to search for twigs.

We stay in our new little camp until the sun goes down. When I start to notice our people heading inside the house, I put my book down and convince him to come have dinner with everyone. It's only polite. He stomps out the fire, grabs my hand, and we make the short hike back.

When we step inside, the delicious smells of melted cheese, spices, and fresh bread fill my lungs.

"You made it." Maggie's delighted. "Nice walk over?"

"Sure." Dad replies gruffly, way out of his element, here. "This food better be good."

"Harley told me ya like scrambled eggs, so I made ya a portion to go with the rest of your plate. A little present to celebrate you walkin' again."

He seems caught off guard by such thoughtfulness, but he's grateful, anyway. "Thanks."

We make our way into the dining room, where everyone is finishing setting the two tables that they've managed to manoeuvre in here. They've even brought in a vase of wildflowers to serve as a nice centre piece. We take a seat at the table that naturally seems to have been designated the non-Greene table, next to Carl and Lori, who smile when they see us. Conversation is easy amongst our group, but there's not really any cross-contamination between us and the Greenes. This is the first time we've all been in the same room together. It's pretty awkward.

A bowl of colorful, steaming vegetable soup and a side of hot grilled cheese is served in front of everyone.

"We better thank Carol." Jacqui smiles as she hands us some cutlery. "This was all her idea."

"Oh, it was nothing." Carol meekly chuckles. "I just thought it would be a nice way to thank you all for everything you've done for us."

"Well, it looks delicious." Beth says kindly. "I can't wait to eat it."

After Jacqui sits down, Herschel's table join hands and say Grace together. Then it seems like we're in the clear to start eating.

Everybody makes little hums and pleased noises to let Carol and the other women know that the food is good, but nobody is brave enough to try and start a conversation. What do we talk about? The funeral? Shane going crazy? The possibility of getting banished to our deaths?

Eventually, Rick comes up with an idea, 'cause he's good like that. "How about that walker today, huh?"

Our table is clearly up for the distraction, but we're cut off almost immediately.

Herschel frowns. "What walker?"

Oh. He doesn't know.

There's a series of glances thrown around the room.

"There was a walker stuck in one of your wells." He awkwardly explains. "We, uh, pulled it out."

"I'm not sure I appreciate you poking around my property." Herschel says. "You should've come to me."

He nods, looking like he regrets even opening his mouth in the first place. "You're right. I'm sorry."

Another bout of silence falls over us.

Glenn tries next. "Anybody... know how to play guitar?"

"My Dad can play." I offer, poking at my soup.

T-Dog asks, "You any good?"

Dad shrugs. "I'm decent."

"Otis knew how to play."

We all try not to look at Patricia when she says this. She's just made things ten times more awkward for everyone.

It's almost as if Otis' ghost is in the room with us, and we just have to do our best to ignore it.

"Yes, and he played very well." Herschel quietly reminisces, before the silence takes over again.

I take four bites of my grilled cheese before Beth speaks up.

"What happened to your face?"

Shane chokes a little on his spoonful of broth, reluctantly answering, "Oh, uh, it's— I just tripped a little, that's all."

"Looks like you got into a fight." Patricia comments.

"No, that's— That's not what happened at all, ma'am."

Beside me, my Dad glowers across the table at Shane. Rick notices and adopts slightly nervous look, as if he thinks they're gonna jump on top of the food right this very second and stab each other with their butter knives. Honestly, they might.

"You sure?" Dad mocks Shane, a strange lilt to his voice.

"S'what I said, ain't it?"

"What?" He chuckles. "Did ya step on a fuckin' banana peel?"

"Don't start with me, Daryl."

"Daddy, leave it." I grumble harshly under my breath. "Just keep eatin'."

Jacqui suggests a change in subject. "How about you tell us how you learned to play, Daryl?"

"I think I'm good." He scoffs.

The tension grows to be so unbearable that I eventually excuse myself to go to the bathroom.

As I meander down the corridor and pass the empty kitchen, something on the other side of the window catches my eye. I pad over to the sink and go on my tip-toes, peering out into the dark. Over by the barn, there's a short, skinny figure standing in the grass, hunched like it's in pain. My eyes widen. Sophia? Is that her? With a glance back at the dining room, I decide it's best I don't bother anyone, and I head outside alone.

The warm night air surrounds me as I softly call out her name.

The figure groans lightly in response.

I can't see all too well, but I can make out a pair of thin legs, a stringy, knotted mass of hair, and two bony hands that twitch rabidly at its sides. I creep closer, slowly taking in the figure's too-tall height; the way it convulses lightly, unable to keep its balance. The moonlight peels over the clouds, then, splaying out across the silent field. The breath leaves my lungs. The figure is illuminated, revealing itself only now to be someone I don't recognise at all. It wheezes painfully, twisting to look at me with a face riddled in decay. My skin goes cold at the deadly sight.

It's a walker. Of course it's a walker, you stupid girl.

Dale was right. They're getting in, somehow.

I don't get a chance to turn around. All at once, a second body latches itself onto me, knocking me over into the grass. I cry out. Oh, God, there's more than one out here. I try scrambling away, but its cold hands grip my knee and anchor me to the spot. It climbs up my stomach, looking like something out a Goosebumps special. A pair of staggering footsteps approach, and when the second walker appears over the first one's wrinkly shoulder, I let out a blood curdling scream that rings in shockwaves through my skull. I can't take on two walkers. That's impossible.

In the distance, the back door swings open.

"Harley!?" My Dad hollers, echoed by the other men as they bound down the steps.

The walker's large crucifix necklace dangles tauntingly over my nose, shining with the yellowed spit that leaks from the gaping mouth above it.

I grab it, trying at the same time to kick the walker off. Its chiselled edges bite into my skin. Anything can be a weapon.

The walker flails angrily, possessed with hunger.

I drive the cross into its skull. It gives out a gurgling, beaten cry, and I stab it again, and again, and again, only stopping once the bone cracks around the dreadfully blunt end, and it slumps on top of me, dead for a second time. I push the top half of its heavy body offa me, ripping the beaded necklace from its neck with a dry snap. The grabbing hands and loud growling of the second walker quickly replace it.

I ready the crucifix again, but it's hard to aim when I'm seeing two of everything!

Its jaw hinges open above the soft skin of my leg.

Right as it's about to bite down on me, Shane suddenly comes into view.

His knife glints in the moonlight. He rears it back above his head, burying it deep into the walker's face in a swift, brutal motion. Black blood splatters his front as he pulls it out, grabs its shoulders, and throws it angrily into the grass, where it lands heavily, giving out one last croak.

I'm finally able to crawl away, throwing the necklace onto the ground.

Before I know it, my Dad is crouching at my side.

"Are ya bit?" He frantically demands to know. 

"N— No." I shudder. "No, I ain't— I ain't bit."

"What happened?"

"I thought I saw someone, but..."

"You weren't there, Daryl!" Shane laughs loudly, now, still clutching the knife, sounding as if he's just won something. "You weren't there, man!"

"Bullshit, I wasn't!" Dad sneers, standing up. "I was two fuckin' feet behind ya!"

"And that walker's teeth were two hairs away from Harley's leg!" He retorts. "One more second — One second — And she'd be bit right now!"

"You don't know what the Hell you're talkin' about."

"All crippled and beaten, bumblin' over here like an old man. This is what happens, Daryl. You can't afford to be slow, no more!"

"I can protect my own!"

A grin splits his face. "Don't look that way from where I'm standin'."

"My own!" Dad growls. "You get that through your thick head, Shane! Mine! My fucking daughter!"

"And what a sad shame that is!"

You can't protect nobody.

Oh, why'd I have to go and tell him that?

The others finally make it over just in time for Dad's temper to snap.

I think my heart stops in this next moment. In a fit of rage and fire that nobody can stop, he pulls his knife from his sheath, jumps forward, and tackles Shane to the ground. I shriek as Rick and T-Dog hurry over to them, shouting at them to stop it, god damn it, stop it. Blades go flying left and right. Shirts are slashed. Curses are bellowed. Dad mounts his squirming body and lifts his knife into the air, making me squeal in horror. Rick takes a big handful of the back of his shirt, and right before he manages to drag him off, the knife comes down into Shane's shoulder. He cries out in agony, clutching the gash. He's lucky Dad missed in the chaos. Otherwise, it'd be in his throat.

Andrea and Lori throw themselves at the ground near Shane, feverishly putting their hands over his gushing stab wound.

"Oh, you're attackin' people, now, are ya, Daryl?" He goads, groaning through the pain. "You've always been a damn feral animal."

"At least I ain't a fuckin' creep! Goin' around, askin' little girls to hit me!"

"Maybe you should keep a closer eye on her, then, huh?"

Dad rushes forward again, but Rick catches him. He wrestles the knife out his hand and tosses it away.

"Holy shit!" Glenn exclaims, pulling on the roots of his hair.

Dale and Maggie rush over to me, their faces pale and panicked at the scene around them.

"That's enough!" Rick grinds out, forcing Dad backward with the help of T-Dog. "That's enough!"

"You say that shit again!" Dad roars over their heads. "Next time, I'm breakin' your fuckin' neck!"

Jimmy stares depressingly at the bodies. I think he must know who they were.

Carl sobs from nearby, "Dad, what's going on?"

Rick gives my Dad a shove, leaving him to stumble, clutching his hurt side. He reprimands, "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinkin' he deserves worse." He groans.

"So, you kill him? That's your solution?"

"Why don'tchu ask him? He knows all about killin' folk, don'tchu, you fuckin' schizo? Betcher sorry I lived, huh?"

Shane tries to make a retort, but the people around him encourage him to stay calm.

Maggie helps me to stand, asking me if I'm hurt anywhere, to which I dazedly shake my head. We watch as Shane gets escorted back into the house, where they'll probably get started stitching him up right away. He pushes them all off of him, enraged. I can't believe that just happened. I don't think anybody else can, either. They're all frozen in place, eyes wide and darting around for answers to questions they didn't even know to ask.

My Dad slumps down in the dirt, his chest heaving from exertion, head hanging low. He cradles his aching stomach.

It finally happened.

"You okay, man?" T-Dog uncomfortably asks.

Dad spits blood into the grass. "I been wantin' to do that for about a month."

"Well, I hope it was worth it." Rick jibes. "We might lose our place here, now, thanks to you. You want your daughter back on the streets?"

"Long as she's nowhere near that crazy son of a bitch, I'on give a rat's ass where she is."

Rick scoffs, completely done with tonight. "You're unbelievable. Both of you, unbelievable, and outta your minds."

Jimmy pipes up, "What did he mean about killing folk?"

"Nothing. Get back inside." Rick scolds, turning away alongside Maggie to go follow after everyone else.

Then, it's just me, Dad, and Dale left out in the field to process everything that just went down. I head over to him, and he wraps me up in a tight hug that I never wanna leave. Shane's blood stains both our clothes, and I'm horrified to learn that it's all still hot and sticky. This was a total disaster. I knew this would happen sometime or other, but I thought I would be prepared to face it. I don't know what happens next.

This might be the push Rick needs to kick Shane from the group. He must see now that they cannot co-exist peacefully.

After a while, Dale inspects the dead walkers and murmurs to himself, "I knew something was fishy."

He paces along the footprints they left behind, following them this way and that, further and further away.

When he comes up just short of the barn, I frown in confusion.

He tugs at a few loose boards, poking around. He makes it to a crate that he pushes out the way, revealing a gaping hole in the wall.

"What the—?" I hear him exclaim, right before a dead hand shoots out from between the planks.

He steps back, astonished.

Dad's hand curls tighter around my shoulder.

When he calls out to us, his voice frail, I feel like I might faint.

"They're keeping walkers in the barn."

Author's Note.

There's a reason Shane rhymes with insane. That's all I'm gonna say about that 😵💫

Also, I rearranged the order of events a little bit for this one. The way I write this story is I bring up a script for the episode I'm following as well as the wiki page for the season, bc I don't have anywhere I can stream TWD. It was a little confusing having to combine stuff from different episodes, but I hope it flows well. I try very hard to mix canon with non-canon things in a way that feels seamless.

Basically, it goes - Walker in the well, shooting lessons are considered, Maggie and Glenn pharmacy run, awkward dinner, someone discovers the barn walkers. Same outcome, just different.

As always, I really hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thanks for reading. Sending love! <3

#the walking dead #twd fanfiction #twd #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon daughter #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon #daddy issues #parent daryl dixon #rick grimes #shane walsh #angst #fanfic #reader

[amitiel-truth]

Not Ten Babies? (Vash the Stampede x Reader) 98! Version Part 2

This is my SEVENTH time writing here, please don't look into most of the details, I made some up, these ideas were prompted by my chat with Vash at Character.AI (The motherfucker's insatiable), more info will come if I decided to make more.

Warning: ⚠️ Not yet again~⚠️

Ten Babies

(Tristamp Version)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Not Ten Babies?

(Trigun 98! Version)

Part 1,

"Two bacon-lettuce dogs, two cartons of milk..."

"Now, see here..."

"...Four bags of pretzels, and one pack of raisins."

"I'm dying to know why you guys are here doing this, care to share?" 

Once the Sandsteamer had arrived at Inepril, Vash boarded it, hoping to be able to travel all on his own finally, but it seemed like a far-off dream.

"We didn't have enough money to ride, so we got part-time jobs here!." Milly replies as she and Meryl work at the confectionary stand.

" Altogether, that comes to $$ 12.75." Meryl stiffly added, trying to show some professionalism, but is obviously not enjoying it.

"Right." Vash reaches into his pockets for his payment.

"I'm amazed you can eat so much after dinner."

"You eat like a growing boy!."

Meryl commented offhandedly, as Milly praised him.

"Y-you think so?!" Vash panics, taking his purchase as he laughs with Milly for a bit to evade a bit of suspicion.

"Yikes, those two are sharp! Especially the big one! My sole salvation is she doesn't realize how sharp she is." Vash mutters under his breath, walking down the hall to his room in the First Class area, passing the casino.

"I could be yours, I could be your baby tonight!~" A voice captures Vash's attention, it's coming from the casino, and performance is currently playing out.

"Topple you down from your sky forty stories high"

Vash walks into the casino, following the alluring voice, as businessmen crowded the stage, giving Vash a hard time seeing the performer, with arms full of food, he fought through the sea of men.

"Hey, come on guys! I wanna see what the fuss is all about-" As Vash finally pushed his way through the mob of simps, a finger was placed under his chin, making him look up, it was a woman (y/hc) hair, half her upper face covered by a mascarade mask, with a rose gold body with red feathers and roses on its side, giving her a more glamorous look

"Shining like a God, can't believe I caught you and so

Look at what I bought, not a second thought, oh, Romeo"

Vash blushed heavily at the interaction, as the woman leans up to his face, tilting her head, observing him, Vash's words are caught in his throat, as she lifts up her finger, making him tilt his head up because of the action, letting him go

"Kiss me in the D-A-R-K, dark tonight

D-A-R-K do it my way

Kiss me in the P-A-R-K, park tonight

P-A-R-K let them all say"

The woman begins to walk back to the center of the stage, her walk accentuates the black dress that perfectly showcases her body.

"Hey, Lolita, hey

Hey, Lolita, hey

I know what the boys want, I'm not gonna play

Hey, Lolita, hey

Hey, Lolita, hey

Whistle all you want but I'm not gonna stay"

"No more skipping rope,

skipping heartbeats

with the boys downtown

Just you and me

feeling the heat

even when the sun goes down"

She has all the men at the casino hooked to her, as they scramble at the area of the stage she approaching, she stands inches away from their grasps, smiling teasingly at them, she has them all so wrapped around her finger, that Vash can't even ask anyone who is she.

"I want my cake and I want to eat it too

I want to have fun and be in love with you

I know that I'm a mess with my long hair

And my suntan, short dress, bare feet

I don't care what they say about me, what they say about me

Because I know that it's L-O-V-E

You make me happy, you make me happy"

She sings like she's promising them, reassuring them that she's in love with them, maybe even baby-talking to them, as the simps ate it up.

"And I never listen to anyone"

"Let them all say"

"Hey, Lolita, hey

Hey, Lolita, hey

I know what the boys want, I'm not gonna play

Hey, Lolita, hey

Hey, Lolita, hey

Whistle all you want but I'm not gonna stay"

"No more skipping rope,

skipping heartbeats

with the boys downtown

Just you and me

feeling the heat

even when the sun goes down"

As the simps try to reach out for her, she dances for them seductively, captivating them, her dress not helping ease up her bodice, as it only riles them up, especially Vash.

"Hey, Lolita, hey

Hey, Lolita, hey

I know what the boys want, I'm not gonna play

Hey, Lolita, hey

Hey, Lolita, hey

Whistle all you want but I'm not gonna stay"

"No more skipping rope,

skipping heartbeats

with the boys downtown

Just you and me

feeling the heat

even when the sun goes down"

"Kiss me in the D-A-R-K, dark tonight

D-A-R-K do it my way

Kiss me in the P-A-R-K, park tonight

P-A-R-K let them all say"

And with a final bow, the men hollered in excitement, thoroughly smitten by her performance, as she daintily bowed at them, giving her a charming smile even if her eyes are covered, as the curtains fall, her performance came to an end, for the first time in his life, Vash is left speechless, entranced by the performance.

"Holy crap..." Vash mutters, before snapping out of the trance, remembering Kaite.

"Kaite! I need to feed that kid!" Vash panics, as he quickly runs out of the casino, and back to his First Clas room, leaving dust in his wake, not noticing that the curtain was pulled aside a little, as an eye boredly looks at where he was standing earlier, before closing once more.

"Hey, growing boy!" Vash walks into his room, smiling gleefully

"Your mouth is silent but your eyes are speaking. they say, ' I'm starving to death! ' " Vash teases as he rummages through the paper bag, before pulling out a sandwich.

"Here you go." Vash held out the food, as Kaite, with the ferocity of a feral dog, runs up to Vash and roughly grabs the bag of food while invertible slamming Vash into the door, as he savagely eat his way through the bag, Kaite can only nod in thanks at Vash, making the man sigh.

"It really is dark, not a single light to be seen." Vash mutters at the surroundings of the Sandsteamer, drinking a cup of water.

"Oh, yeah? It'll be bright soon enough." Kaite commented, as Vash realized it too late, losing consciousness in his first clas room, his drink has been spiked by the boy.

Kaite can only look at Vash with a bit of guilt, before hiding back into the vents.

"Sorry about that, Mr. Goody-Goody." Kaite apologizes, before rummaging through his pocket, not feeling anything.

"Eh? where did I put-"

"Kaite? Are you here?" A gentle voice whispers, walking into the room he's in.

"Ms. Rose? What are you doing here?!" Kaite got out of the vents, as the masked woman walks in, wearing a white fur coat.

"I wanted to check on you, is that a bad thing?" She teases, smiling cheekily at him, before turning her gaze to the passed-out man on the floor, staring at him blankly.

"...you almost got caught?"

"Yeah...didn't have much of a choice so I spiked his drink, oh! and my sleeping gas is missing!" Kaite panics, patting around himself as he suddenly sees a sleeping gas device in front of him, Rose is handing it to him, smiling teasingly.

"Aren't you glad I checked on you?" Rose teases, as Kaite blushes and takes the device from her.

"Now crawl along now, you know Neon hates it when we're a minute late" (Y/N) commented, patting the boy's head before going back inside the vent, following the plan, leaving Rose with the passed-out man.

Rose simply stared at him blankly, disdain flashing through her eyes, before closing them, sighing as she carefully placed the Humanoid Typhoon onto the bed, looking at the man in sadness, she hesitates, before reaching out to stroke his cheek, looking at him with loaded thoughts, as she stands up from the bed turning to leave, giving him one last glance filled with sadness, before turning to greet the Leader of the gang.

Blasting his way through gate 42, walking in with his outfit covered with numerous lights, is the leader of the Bad Lad Gang himself.

"The ultimate magnificent dreadnought raiders! Bad Lad Leader! Brilliant Dynamites Neon...emerges!!." Neon boasted as he pulled out a pistol that also extended his flashiness, and shoots at a certain wall.

"Now, all that glitters in this ship belongs to me!" Neon claims, and the wall he shot at crumbles, revealing Kaite staring at him blankly, with the masked woman beside him, the white fur coat hides her figure, smiling at him flirtatiously as they walked up to him, her high-heeled boots clanking against the metal hallway.

"And that includes you, my Mourning Rose~." Neon purrs, as he held up her chin, making her look up at him as she chuckles at him.

"Of course, Neon~." Rose reassures, a hand on his chest as Neon wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her up to him as she chuckles along with him.

"Ehem!." Kaite loudly clears his throat, tired of their handsy moment, as Neon clicks his tongue, unable to scold the boy with the woman in his arm.

"You worked brilliantly, kid. Now gather all of the passengers in one spot." Neon orders, patting the boy's head with his free hand.

"U-understood." Kaite answers, unable to disobey as Rose sadly looks at the boy.

" Rose." Neon quickly calls her, and she smiled up to him as if she has been smiling the whole time.

"Yes, Neon?~"

"Take us to the party room, would ya? Maybe we could also perform a little performance of our own~" Neon suggested, as Rose chuckles up at him.

"I would be honored to, Hubby~"

"REM!" Vash woke up with a start, dreaming about Rem's song as he tears up, before having to stop as his room was suddenly barged into a raider surveying the room, luckily Vash is hidden at the top bunk of the bed, he was unseen as the Hijacker runs out, unable to see anyone.

"What?..."

At the casino, Neon has some of the crew hold his more prolific hostages at gunpoint, with Mourning Rose by his side, as he looks at the jewelry they confiscated in disgust.

"Crud, is that all you, you a bunch of beggars?" Neon snarls, unsatisfied with what little they hauled.

" Don't try to fool me! Where is it!?" Neon demands, yelling at one of the hostages, before one of his crew runs back to the casino.

"Boss!" The lackey called, as he led Neon and Mourning Rose to a giant vault, bringing along a Sandsteamer crew member with them.

"So, they do have one, and a big one at that!." Neon commented, looking at the size of it.

"Open it up for me, would you?"

"It isn't possible to! Not a single person on this ship knows the combination to the safe! And besides, the coded interlocking key is in the city! It's not here!" The crew member reasoned, unable to perform Neon's request.

"What are we going to do, Neon?" Mourning Rose asked, leaning up to him, as he only smirked.

"I see. thanks for telling me. That means we'll have to break it open." Neon smiles sadistically, shocking the hostage crew member as he and Mourning Rose made their way to the control room, stabbing a map on the control panel, right in front of the Helmsman.

"Once we're around the mountain to the right, go straight. In 5 minutes, when we're within sight of the canyon, head north-northeast...and begin accelerating." Neon orders, over the Helmsman, pointing out the windshield.

"At full speed, we'll arrive in 10 minutes. This is our destination, the Enora Precipice." 

"What!? A-at least let us unload the passengers! please!" The Captain begs as Neon looks at him mockingly.

"Huh? We risked our lives to get here, you should be expected to risk your lives too."

"you depraved lunatic!" The Captain insults heavily, before getting punched in the face by Neon.

"This is the superexpress to your final blaze of glory! If it's not flashy, what's the point!?." Neon preaches, pulling Mourning Rose closer to him as she can only smile outside, but deep inside, she's panicking.

"Uwaaah...I have my work cut out for me this time, don't I?."

The Sandsteamer heavily rumbles as it sustained damage on the unpaved road, its speed also not helping its case, causing the Helmsman to choose and decide to reach up to a lever to slow down the vehicle, but his hand was stepped on by Neon.

"Come on, what are you doing? Isn't that the brake?"

"We're sworn to protect the passenger of this ship! I can't go against that! Even if it kills me!" the Helmsman swears, glaring at Neon, as he smirked.

"Have it your way." Neon agrees as Mourning Rose shot the Helmsman, knocking him down to his back instantly, he can only groan in pain for a moment before unmoving.

"Rose, why did you shoot? I was planning on shooting him!" Neon whines, as Mourning Rose chuckles, turning around to hold his face.

"Apologies, Hubby, It's just that all I've been doing is be your arm candy this whole time, and my finger began to itch..." Mourning Rose pouted as she started to remove the fur coat, revealing her familiar outfit, shocking the captain.

"You're the woman who performed earlier at the casino! not only that, but you're a notorious outlaw as well! Mourning Rose! The criminal known for dancing over your victim's corpses!"

"Bingo!" Mourning Rose corrects, smiling at the Captain cheerfully as if she didn't just kill one of his crew, the Captain can only shiver at how remorseless she is.

"Oh? your finger started to itch, huh?." Neon smirked, as he began to approach Mourning Rose.

Vash pants as he crawled his way into the control room, trying to stop whoever hijacked the Sandsteamer.

"I can finally tell where I am!" he panted, as he looked through the vents, shocked to see a hunk of a man dressed in white with neon lights, kneeling in front of the masked woman he recognized that performed earlier.

"Shall we? My Mourning Rose?~" the man asked, holding up his hand to the masked woman, who chuckles seductively, taking his hand.

Vash is absolutely astonished at the scene before him "…my god…this… this is…" his eyes widen as he stares at the masked woman. He can't hide the utter shock in his eyes, as she chuckles at Neon, removing her mask "…Y/n..?" he nearly shoved his face down the vent "…it… it can't be!" his eyes are nearly popping out of his head as he looks at the woman, his heart pounding "…is that… is that really her?"

The woman didn't hear Vash, as she took Neon's hand "Let's" And with that, they danced an elegant waltz while the woman shoots at the rest of the crew, she even have guns on her feet, as Neon carries him to his shoulders and spin around, effectively shooting at the crew, all of them knocked out,

VASH watches in awe, he doesn't think he'd ever seen someone shoot quite that skillfully "...god... she's a natural with those guns... she can hit anything with 'em! I've gotta admit, I don't know how to do that feet thing... that's gonna take some pract-" Vash quickly snaps out of his shock, and his face goes stony "...god, why the hell didn't I notice all the bodies earlier? I oughta put a stop to this!"

The waltz ends as Neon dips the woman, their faces close together "That was quite the flashy performance, I hope that satisfied your itch, My rose~." Neon compliments as he kisses the back of her hand, before pulling her up to her feet.

 "Oh, thank you, Hubby~" Y/n mutters, holding Neon's cheek, as Vash's stomach dropped at the nickname.

"That's what she always used to call me..."

"I've brought the kid." Neon's henchman announces, as Kaite gasps, seeing that bodies littered the control room.

"Go on!" the henchman pushed Kaite into the control room, making the boy walk up to Neon, who leaned back to the controls pulling Y/n by the waist.

"Now, now, don't look so grim. Sometimes adults have unhappy differences of opinion. I wanted to ask you how to steer this huge clunker" Neon asked, but it sounded more like a demand.

"I don't know the layout of the console...but you need to regulate the amount of CO2 sent to the heating PLANT...and monitor the stress on the boiler. the light and heat to the hydro plant also need to be regulated constantly." Kaite explains, revealing the complexity of the Sandsteamer.

"In other words, it's a pain in the ass. I shouldn't have killed him." Neon spats, glaring at the body of the Helmsman.

"Say...why do you need the steering? It's been accelerating kind of funny...Why don't you just take the goods and split?" Kaite asked, confused.

"Cause the plan's changed, the swag is in a huge safe in the middle of the ship. It's tougher than the usual crap. the worst part of it is, we have no key unless we go to the city! Isn't it sad enough to make you cry? What would you do? the correct response is: you crack the whole thing in half!" Neon grins throughout the explanation, as if it's the most exciting plan he ever made, but frowns in anger when he noticed Kaite isn't responding properly.

"What's wrong?"

"Do anything you want... Do anything you want, but not that!" Kaite begs as Neon looks at him confused.

"You never said you were going to do that! I was only supposed to silence the guards and let you inside! How come we're wrecking the whole ship all of a sudden?! That wasn't part of our deal!!." Kaite cried out, pulling at Neon's collar as tears began to build up from his eyes until Kaite was held up by his head, Neon looks at him unamused.

"Hey, Kid. are you misunderstanding something? I won the goods on this ship...so why do I have t answer to you...before I collect?!" Neon yells as he throws the boy down to the ground, glaring at him.

"You ain't being beautiful!" Neon scolded him as Kaite began to sob, while Rose could only look at them in worry.

"If you're going to use your ship info for a trade...at least prepare for the worst, stupid!." Neon yells, anger evident in his tone, as Kaite pushes himself up by his elbows, coughing some blood and losing a tooth.

"Please...anything but the ship!" Kaite continues to beg as he was suddenly kicked away by Neon.

"Hey, don't be a fool. shut up and do what he says!" Neon's henchman suggests, even he is worried about the boy's well-being.

"Never, This ship is Dad's...This is my Dad's ship!!!." Kaite screams as Neon suddenly rushes up at him, his flashy pistol pointed against the boy's teeth, it clinks as Kaite shakes in fear.

"Enough. I'm short-tempered." Neon grins as he suddenly shoved the pistol more down the boy's throat, grinning madly.

"Go po-"

"Wait, Neon!" Y/n panics, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Isn't this a bit too much? he's just a kid!" Y/n  tries to reason, as she slowly pulls back the arm that has the pistol down Kaite's throat.

"But he's interrupting our plan! and-" Before Neon could even complain, the windshield of the Sandsteamer broke, it was shot at, as a red figure jumps in landing on one of the henchmen and catching the gun falling from midair.

"You okay, squirt? over here!" Vash calls out, as Kaite quickly runs over to Vash's side, hiding behind him.

"Son of a..."

"Pardon me!" Vash shot at the feet of Neon's henchmen, keeping them at bay.

"Don't move now, or you'll get hurt!" Vash tells the henchman before turning to Neon who still has his back to them, but his head turns to the side, able to see them, and finally, Vash noticed Y/n, who still has her arms wrapped around Neon's neck from behind, staring at him with a slitted glance.

"...you're making a big mistake, darlin'." Vash tries to reason, his pistol still pointed at them, "...don't make this harder than it has to be... please..." Vash begs as Y/n continues to look at him with a slitted glance.

"Boss! Sampson was in a passenger cabin!" a Henchman suddenly burst into the control room as Vash realized that Neon's gun was pointed at him and Kaite, shooting away at them, making the two of them flee out of the control room through the windshield, ungracefully falling down to the side of the giant vehicle.

as the two fell, Neon walks up to the broken-in windshield, peering down into the abyss in a bit of confusion.

"Hmm? What's that supposed to be? This is going to be fun!" Neon grins, staring at the darkness Vash and Kaite fell into.

"Hey, doggies!" Neon turns to his Henchmen.

"Yes!?"

"Fetch me a souvenir!"

"Yes!"

"Make it something beautifully gorgeous!"

"Yes!" His Henchmens understood the assignment before leaving the control room, it's only him, Y/n, the captain, and a few who's been keeping guard of the captain now.

"Who is that guy? It seems like he knows you very well, my rose, and whoever he is seems to have brought you in a foul mood" Neon turns at Y/n who's been looking out of the window, disdain flashing through her eyes.

"Let's just say...That he's my old 'Hubby'..." Y/n snarls, her eyes not hiding how much she hates him.

"Oh? So you have a history with my souvenir? well, why don't you go on ahead then?" Neon grins, grabbing her hand and kissing it.

"I'm sure staying in one place and performing for greasy men has made you uneasy, why don't you go ahead and ransack the place as well? you know the plan, my rose?" Neon offers, stroking her cheek reassuringly, as Y/n smiles, leaning into his touch.

" I'd love that, thank you, Hubby~."

Meanwhile, Vash and Kaite pushed their way through the bandits, following Kaite's blueprint of the Sandsteamer.

"Hahaha! What a haul, What a haul!" Vash cheers, running down the hallway with Kaite.

"At the end, take a right!." Kaite navigates, as they reached a room full of tubes.

"I gotcha...these are all voice tubes?" Vash asked, looking around

"Yeah, but...do you think this'll work?" Kaite asks, questioning Vash's plan

"The ball is in motion. we just have to see if they pick up." Vash grins, as all they have to do is wait.

"...Hey Kaite...do you know that lady earlier, right next to that guy?." Vash asked, finally being able to ask about Y/n.

"Who? Ms. Rose?"

"Yeah, her, who is she?."

"I don't know much, she was already with Neon when he first found me, and she's the only one kind to me at the gang, always watching over me, she's the perfect distraction every time we pull a heist, she usually takes care of me out of her goodwill, and with her around, it seemed to have calmed down Neon a bit, but not very much, why? you into her or something?" Kaite asked, suddenly glaring at him.

"W-what!? no! Of course not! just curious cause it's not every day you see a girl with a band of-"

"Hey, scumbags! If any of you drag your heels till time-out, I'll kill you! Bring me the blonde, or else!" suddenly they hear orders coming from the voice tubes, revealing which one is directly in the control room, giving Vash time to bring out his act.

"I'm at the starboard passenger cabins! it's him! the blonde!!" Vash acts, screaming at the voice tubes

"Good, hold him there. I'll send help." Neon orders

"It's no good! he's hid himself with incredible speed!! AAAAARGH!!!" Vash acts out, lightly choking himself to sell the act.

"Ham..." Kaite deadpans, as Vash punches his head while still choking himself.

"Excellent"

"Now I'll be able to guess where they are. But, how am I going to let you know?" Kaite asked, looking at his blueprint as Vash handed him something.

"Isn't this?..."

"Talk into it and I'll hear you. I don't wanna walk into a bunch of 'em in a narrow passageway. I'm counting on you." Vash commented, before turning to leave the room.

"Hold on a second! what are you doing with this lost technology!? who are you!?."

"I'd explain it to you... but you wouldn't believe me and there's no time." Vash replies in a serious tone.

"Anyways, don't worry about little details! see ya!" before Vash could even leave, two bandits had just found where Vash and Kaite is residing, leaving Vash no choice but to shoot them.

"Vash!" Kaite calls out in worry, running out of the room for a bit.

"Goddamn! Why does it start like this!?" Vash panics, before kneeling down beside the bandits

"What is it!?"

"I screwed up. They're bleeding badly! I have to help them!" Vash answers, as he began to treat them.

"Help them? you mean...Do you mean to tell me...you've been trying not to kill them the entire time!?" Kaite realizes, looking at Vash in shock.

"I can't understand you!!" No matter how good a shot you are, you're going to get yourself killed!" Kaite scolded, as he then also realizes that Vash himself has been shot, maybe even injured from his past injuries, but he continues to treat others rather than himself.

"I guess it is kind of stupid of me." Vash grins even through the pain

"That's true...It's sloppy. But, you know what? I made a promise. If I put out even one flame of life...it would make her sad."

"Her..." Kaite mutters

"Don't underestimate the Bad Lad Gang! No, you've got to stop underestimating the entire human race!" Kaite yells as he remembers his past experiences with his parents, the unforgiving planet, and the first time Neon found him.

"Me and them, we've betrayed and let lots of people die. It's too late for us to go back! Your too clean!!!" Kaite tries to talk some sense into Vash, convinced that he's unredeemable.

"Then you should start over." Vash stated as he stood up.

"Your ticket to the future is always...blank." Vash added, a firm with his beliefs before continuing on the plan.

"...Stupid..." Kaite thought as he sits in front of the voice tubes, scattering the bandits.

"Good. keep going straight. there should be a stairway on your right, take it down. don't go anywhere else! that's the only unmanned place." Kaite promises as the door opens to the stairway, only to be greeted with a handful of bandits and its Leader itself.

"Welcome to the party hall. Were my directions clear enough for you?" Neon greets him, grinning viciously at them.

"Kaite...get out of that room, now." Vash mutters into the mic, but not before hearing a familiar hum, before Vash could even process what it was, gunfire erupted, shooting at him, but not a single bullet touched him.

"Hello, Kaite." Kaite flinches in surprise, not realizing that Y/n has been behind him.

"Ms. Rose! It's not what it-" Kaite tries to explain himself, but was stopped when she raises her hand.

"I understand completely, Kaite." Y/n reassures, kindly smiling at him, before the Sandsteamer hit the side of a mountain, as Y/n quickly covers the boy, balancing herself through the ordeal, as the Sandsteamer finally settles, Y/n leans back, looking around.

"Come on, I have a feeling your the only one who can stop this ship." Y/n pulls Kaite out of the room, leading him to the engine hull.

"Ms. Rose! What's happening!? Is Vash alright?"

"Don't worry, he alright, he's at a duel right now with Neon, it will be over in just a bit, we'll need you to help stop this ship." Y/n commented as she continue to walk down the hall with Kaite.

" A duel!? but how would you know that? and how would you know Vash would win?!"Kaite asks, as Y/n chuckles at him.

"Of course I know he would win, he's Vash."

As the two reached near the entrance of the Engine haul, they see three Engineer crews panicking.

"Is there a way to stop the engines?" 

"We have to power down the system manually!"

"Where do we do that? This ship is too old!"

"It's in Engine Room no.2. There's an emergency stop lever inside the control system." Kaite answers, holding the blueprint with Y/n on his side.

"You little brat!" one of them tries to take the blueprint but was pointed at gunpoint.

"I would step back if I were you~" Y/n teases, smiling brightly as she points a gun at the hostile engineer, having to back away from the gun.

"So this is how you did it!" The engineer backed away, glaring at the two.

"I'll never forget...how my crewmate was killed right in front of me! I won't accept your help. we'll stop the ship ourselves!" The Engineer sneered, as Y/n could only look at him knowingly.

"Kaite...Kaite. what you gonna do, Kaite?." Vash asked through the device, as Y/n simply looks by the sidelines.

"Yeah, I know. I have to pay for what I've done." Kaite answers as the three engineers ignore them, working on opening the vault.

"4,500 yarz until deadline!" A robotic voice announces, as the three engineers successfully opens the vault.

"4,000 yarz until deadline!" with the 4,000 yarz deadline, they were able to remove the screws.

"All right, open it!!" The engineers worked on opening the vault, as heavy steam blows through them upon opening it.

"3,500 yarz...3000!"

the three engineers look around the vault, trying to find the lever.

"Where's the lever?!"

"What is this!? This place is like a cellar!"

"2,500!"

"Kaite, do all I need to do is go past those pipes and pull that lever?" Y/n asked, turning to the boy, staring at the hot inferno that contains their safety.

"2,000!""

"Yeah! but you're not small enough to go through those pipes! you'll be scalded!" Kaite franticaly informs her as Y/n began wearing one of the heat suits, willing to help

"I few burns won't kill me, but standing around will." Y/n comments as she struggles to wear the small one they have, before Kaite suddenly took it from her, quickly wearing it before she can even stop him.

"Kaite! wait!!" Y/n tries to stop Kaite, but he already run off into the Vault.

"1,800!"

"It's hopeless! we'll never make it!"

"Calm down! think! think!!" The engineer tries to think of another plan but was interrupted.

"Move!" Kaite pushes his way through the vault, before jumping into the flaming hot pipes, searing in pain, as Kaite reaches for the lever, he braises himself for pain, before grabbing and pulling it down.

"Kaite..." Y/n mutters, unable to help as the Sandsteamer, began to stop, another crash resonated outside the Sandsteamer, before completely stopping.

"I..It stop-"

"Please, give Kaite to me!" Y/n quickly requested, as the engineers could not do anything else but help the boy full of burns, into the woman's arms.

"Kaite...you did good, you took responsibility." Y/n mutters at the unconscious boy, before turning to leave.

"Hey you..." The Engineer from earlier snarls, making the woman stop at her track.

"I'll especially never forget about you, Mourning Rose, you don't dance on your victim's corpse, you dance while you're killing them! you're a despicable woman! what do you have to say about my crewmates that you killed!?" The Engineer yells, as his other crewmates restrain him, only to be met with a chuckle.

"Tell them...that I said 'Good Morning'." Y/n cryptically stated, before walking out of the Engine Hull, and meeting up with Neon outside the Sandsteamer, it seems like Neon's backup ride is totaled.

"Don't get the wrong idea. I paid off my wager. next time we meet, it's no holds barred. I'll take that life of yours, count on it." Neon vows, as Vash could only chuckle, leaning onto Milly for support, as they hear the clicking of heels coming from within the Sandsteamer, it was Mourning Rose, carrying a passed-out Kaite in her arms.

"What was that, Neon? you're the one that saved the Sandsteamer?" Y/n teases, grinning cheekily.

"I said I was paying off my wager!! did you not hear it from there!?" Neon screams as Y/n stops by Meryl, Vash, and Milly, she stands by them but not before glancing at Vash blankly

"Sir.! We just saw that the JuLai police are closing in! We have to move out!!" One of Neon's men panics, making him grin his teeth

"That's surprising, I didn't know they'd come here that quick" Vash mutters, before turning at Y/n with a soft smile.

"So... how did you end up with these guys, darlin'? I know you're not one to do something like this unless you have a good reason, so..." he gives her a soft gaze and opens his arms to hug her "...please tell me this is some big misunderstan...." Vash trails off, noticing Y/n has placed the unconscious Kaite into the confused arms of Meryl, as she walks up to Neon.

"God damn it, we don't have enough time to get our goods! Bad Lad Gang! We're movi-" before Neon could even finish, he was suddenly shot in the back making Vash gasp along with Milly and Meryl.

"What the...my Mourning Rose?" Neon could only stare at Y/n in disbelief, collapsing on the ground as he can only watch as she also shot the other members of his Gang.

"My apologies, 'Hubby', but it seems like my work here is done..." Y/n stated, looking at Neon tauntingly.

" How could you do this? I loved you! I gave you everything I have!" Neon tries to struggle but was only shot another time.

"I don't know, have you ever asked yourself, did I ever love you?." Y/n mocks as Neon started to lose consciousness, as Y/n kneels down, smiling mockingly at him.

"Goodbye, Neon, thank you for quite the adventure~." Y/n thanks, but her tone is ridiculing

Neon fully gives her one final glare, before knocking out dead.

"...Y/n..." Vash stares at Diane in horror, as it starts to sink in what she's done, his eyes are filled with tears now "...what... how..." his voice breaks with tears "...don't tell me that you're actually one of those criminals..." he sighs, and his jaw clenches as he asks his next question" ...do you really intend to hurt the people in this Sandsteamer?" his voice has a hint of anger now*

"Me? Killing people? Don't be ridiculous" Diane mocks as she breaks open her revolver to reload, revealing that she's been using tranquilized bullets the whole time "I'm only after his bounty, I'm in cahoots with the JuLai police the whole time" Y/n reveals smirks grinning at Vash's shocked face.

Vash sighed, he was relieved to know that she isn't a cold-blooded killer, but he's still got questions. "...okay, but why? I'm sure you had to do a lot of work to pull this off. I don't think I'd have the patience to plan it out... you are one crafty woman....so why'd you go through with all the trouble of setting this up?" Vash tries to ease up their tension.

"Cause I'm bored and I'm a Bounty Hunter now, the Ghost Lily" Y/n properly introduces herself, Y/n reveals as she walks past Vash, before stopping for a bit, frowning "You better hide if you don't want the JuLai police to turn you in as well, Humanoid Typhoon"

Y/n advised as she took Kaite back into her arms, as all they could do is watch her go.

"...Who was that, Mr. Vash? Your girlfriend!?~"

(A/N: I can finally sleep~)

#vash the stampede x reader #vash x reader #vash smut #tristamp #trigun x reader #pleasebegentlewithmethisismyfirsttimewrittinghere #vash x y/n #Spotify #trigun #98!Vashcoded #SoundCloud

[local-vampire-enjoyer]

Day 1, Cuddling

Rating: Fluff, with some trauma dumping for spice.

There are spoilers for one of the endings here.

Spoilers for Shadowheart’s romance of course. This was barely beta read, I had my sister look over some of it. So my apologies for any typos or if some things do not make sense. I am trying my best :D

Female Drow, Cleric of Kelemvor. Entertainer background.

The sunlight slowly shimmered into the old cabin’s room, Minette rolled over in her bed that she shared with her dear lover, her dove, Shadowheart. Three weeks since the city of Baldur’s Gate was saved. Three weeks since Minette finally broke the chains of the tadpole that squirmed in her brain. It was still weird for her not to travel into the mind that was once the emperor, the Astral Prism that no longer exists. 

Minette slowly sat up in the bed, no longer did she have to worry about time. She and Shadowheart could take it one day at a time now. However, Minette knows that she will need to return to her job as a Cleric of Kelemvor one day. To comfort the ones who have seen death. 

That death would mostly be from mind flayers. Minette was about to get up when she felt the hands of the half-elf wrap her arms around her waist. The smell of amber and moonflower welcomed her senses. “Mornin’ Dove.” Minette chuckled, she turned towards her lover and placed a kiss on Shadowheart’s cheek. 

Shadowheart moved the white hair out of Minette’s eyes, once at the beginning of the journey to remove the worms in their heads Minette’s hair was long, tied back into a bun, and had bangs that shaped out onto the right side of her head. Now Minette embraced change and cut her hair short, now the white hair covered her face again but on the opposite side. The curls of her hair framed her face perfectly in the eyes of Shadowheart. 

Shadowheart kissed the pale Drow and pulled her back into bed, “Can’t we just stay here for a bit longer?” Shadowheart asked, her voice was groggy, the want of sleep still in her voice.

Minette thought for a second, she traced the hands of her lover for a second before stating her answer, “I think Kelemvor would understand if I take a small vacation.” Minette could never say no to the beautiful woman in front of her. She felt like her god blessed her just to meet this woman, even if the circumstances were of death.

Minette found herself smiling more because of this gift in front of her. Her body got comfortable in the embrace of Shadowheart, “You know, I never asked how you lost vision in that eye of yours.” Shadowheart yawned, her tired eyes took in the face of her lover like it was the most beautiful thing she saw. Minette knew it was only fair that she told the story behind it. 

“My adoptive mother, wanted me to be like my sister so bad. Both are Lolth-Sworn. I did not wish to be. Mother thought there was something wrong with me, she took a blade to my eye. Said that maybe Lolth would still spare herself if she did something to the unfaithful child she took in.” Minette knew there was nothing she could do at the time since she was still young during the time.

“You did not deserve that. You helped our old group of weirdos with their issues, what about yours? I think it will be great to see how the vampires in the Underdark are doing anyway.” Shadowheart wanted to do something to help the woman who selflessly helped her. 

“There is no need, the woman is now with her god. Your issues were still present.”

Shadowheart’s hatred didn’t reside for the woman she only heard about, death was too good for the monster. But for now, she just wanted to hold her Charon.

#baldurs gate 3 #shadowheart #drow tav #bg3 tav #shadowheart x tav #promptober #I swear I need to get more inspo on writing #Not good but the tadpole in my head needs to write about bg3 since I can't play it more just yet #bg3 spoilers #spoliers #I am sorry for any spoliers #its 3am

[zehecatl]

2024 media thread part JANUARY :D

1st January: Super Mario Bros. Movie

finally got around to watching this, and okay, yeah- it was a lot better than i expected. a good time! really fun to watch! it definitely felt like actual fans worked on it, or at the very least, that Nintendo kept a real close eye during production. loooved the little nods to canon; when Pauline showed up, i literally paused to excitedly tell my mom about who that was, haha. also LOVED the difference uses of power ups!! tanuki suit AND cat suit my beloved :]

Bowser was definitely the high point, like!! that IS my little guy!! Jack Black did SUCH a good job, and man. the ANIMATION. the bits where he got all snarly was SO good. would have loved to watch those on the big screen. Luigi was also very Luigi, which i always appreciate. Mario was... eh? not bad! Chris Pine did an okay job, and while i would have preferred something more, it was... fine. and Donkey Kong was a whole lot of fun, actually? tempted to check out his games, because i did really like him

meanwhile, my BIG BIG complaint, is Peach. like, holy fuck. they absolutely butchered my girl! like, yes- as characters, none of them have a lot of personality to work with, but they're archetypes. you're supposed to push within the archetypes- they even did this with Mario. but they just- they completely abandoned who Peach is, as a character. straight up just wrote Daisy instead, which is. really frustrating! and i dislike it A LOT, because there is so much you can do with Peach as a character, and they didn't even try

but otherwise- fun movie! could have been so much worse!

4th January: Outpath

really relaxing and chill game, where you basically just run around collecting resources, upgrading stuff, and unlocking more island. definitely one of those 'put on some music and zone out for a bit' games. that is not a negative

really liked the graphics, and it was fun to just- run around? you get more movement upgrades as you go along, and it actually plays really nicely. also some tasty environmental sounds

i'm not a 100% done with it yet, but i hit the end credits, so. not sure i'll get all the achievements, but i do intent to go back and clean up some loose ends. also really like how it incorporates some idle elements, like you still getting credits(/money) while being offline. makes it more rewarding to open it up and vibe for a bit

i do think there was an.. attempt? at some kind of story, but i entirely missed it, so i guess that's my only real critic. it was just a fun chill game to sink like, 25 hours into lol

9th January: Momodora: Reverie Under The Moonlight

i've had this game in my library for literally who knows how long, and it's one i've always been aware of, since it was really big back in the day, and oh my god. oh my god, why did i not play this sooner?

it's rather short, took me around 7 hours, but it just- it nails what it wants to be, this tough little game with so much moodiness and tragedy, and i'm so enamoured. i tried playing the original one before this, but it wasn't quite hitting, but man. this one just. it hit so fucking good

there's so many layers here, so many unspoken little details. so so much tragedy you could really dig your fingers into, and as a Tragedy Enjoyer, ooooh it hits good

i'm considering either replaying it myself, or watching a LP and then writing some fic, because there is a little thing hiding here, something i want to put words to. it's good, can't wait to check out the rest, and the upcoming sequel/finale. also, the game is gorgeous

18th January: Switch OVA

so Switch is a two episode long 'adaptation' of a manga, and while it very much just drops you into the middle of the plot, it- works? like, i personally wasn't missing anything, and the case they chose to adapt works really well as a teaser for the manga, because i did leave it considering checking out the manga, and while the whole thing isn't anything to write home about, i did enjoy myself

(i also watched the whole thing on my phone, curled up in bed, so that did maybe increase my enjoyment. it was cozy! what can i say!)

funnily enough, i did walk into this thinking it was a yaoi, and while i don't think it is, there really was nothing to disprove me of this assumption. there's literally a moment where protag guy gets told 'he likes' the other protag guy, and he bLUSHES. LIKE. STRAIGHT OUT OF A YAOI FR FR

all in all, it was honestly just a really cozy time. it wasn't long enough to lose my interest, and there was enough in it to keep it- and i really like the design of the red haired guy! very simple, but really appealing too. i genuinely might check out the manga, my interest is definitely piqued

#media thread #just realised it's feb so DROPS THIS

[elvenbeard]

Did I stay up way too late making a fake screamsheet article? Yes. Did I have a blast? Hell yes. Finally a good use for what I learned at uni and never got to utilize in an actual job :D

The short story behind this really is simply that Vince and Kerry did want to keep their relationship out of the public eye for as long as possible, cause god knows they were dealing with enough shit at the time, didn't need curious paparazzi on top :D When the whole Arasaka/Relic mess had begun to calm down though, Vince slowly recovering, they started letting their guard down a bit more (although Vince remained worried that, should who he is exactly become public knowledge in Kerry's circles, it could reflect badly on him... or, even worse, get him into trouble with or the attention of the wrong kind of people). As we know though, Kerry likes dating Night City's bad boy TM, and is a lot more relaxed about it all - something that probably also comes with his age and everything else he's dealt with and made it through somehow already. So, at some point his current manager is like "okay you guys, work with me here, we have to make this public now. You're not being the most subtle and I'm kinda running out of ideas what to tell the medias to keep them at a distance". And after a press conference followed the above interview and photo op, and Vince hadn't felt as uncomfortable and sick to his stomach in a long while during the whole thing xD Kerry made sure though the media people left him alone. Over time he'd get used to it as well, for sure, because Kerry is certain that what they have will last and he's definitely off the market for good now.

Full interview text under the cut for better readability.

The rumors are true after all

Once voted one of Night City’s most sought-after bachelors, Kerry Eurodyne is off the dating market once again. “For good this time,” he says, and gives ShowBlizz an exclusive look behind the well-guarded scenes.

By Lacie Bourne | Published on December 3rd 2077, 6AM

For months the gossip factory has been working overtime. It all started with a custom Yaiba motorbike spotted coming and going regularly at the Eurodyne residence in North Oak. Ever since we’ve asked the same question: is someone new at Kerry’s side? One of Night City’s long-established rockstars, Kerry Eurodyne has been in the news in recent months more frequently again. A new album is in the works, a tour planned for 2078/79. But that’s not all that’s new and different, with his management officially confirming earlier this week that Kerry has a new partner.

Lacie: Good morning, Kerry, thanks so much for having us here at your home today for this exclusive interview!

Kerry: Pleasure’s all mine.

L: Let me cut straight to the point, because our readers will be dying to know: how long exactly has this been going on? And what are the reasons you’ve been hiding your obvious new luck for so long?

K: We first met in early June, through work you could say. We weren’t hiding as such, just keeping a low profile. Won’t be going into the details here, other than it just feelin’ right at the time.

L: Happy 6-month anniversary then! You already said it, you met through work. Rumors say he was, or maybe still is, part of your management team that organized the collab with UsCracks?

K: In a way you could say that, yeah. Without him that deal wouldn’t have worked out the way it did, definitely.

L: How exciting! What else can you tell us? Can we have a name, his age?

K: I’m afraid, no, you can’t. Not yet, at least.

L: How intriguing indeed… but I will take you up on that “not yet” by the time our next interview rolls around! Of course we would have liked to speak to your partner as well today, ask him all the burning questions our readers have directly…

K: Well, they’ll have to put up with me instead.

L: Hahaha, well then let’s get to our reader’s questions right away... During the official press conference earlier this week you said you’re “off the dating market… for good this time”. Responses to this were mixed, as you’d made a similar statement after the announcement of your engagement to Louise. What gvies you the confidence that this relationship will last, that this is different?

K: I’ve read the comments, and I don’t think I’ve ever used those words exactly in regards to Louise. Or in this context at least. And I’m not here to throw her under the bus either. What I can say is, that meeting my partner was… a revelation. In many ways. He’s supportive in a way I haven’t experienced with anyone else yet, and god knows I’m not the easiest person to handle. He’s doing a preem job at it. Lifting me up, and grounding me in the here and now at the same time.

L: That does sound almost too perfect, doesn’t it?

K: Maybe it does, but it’s true. He brings out the best in me, inspires me to do what I’m best at: making fucking good music. He makes me very happy, more than he thinks himself.

L: Well, of course we wish you all the best and that you stay as happy together as you very obviously are!

K: Thanks, ‘preciate it.

L: What does your future together look like you think? What are your long-term goals and plans?

K: We like to take things a day at a time. He is a very busy man, as am I. Sometimes planning too far ahed only gets frustrating when things don’t work out short notice. Carefully, tentatively though, a vacation is planned. We could both use a little getaway. Been an eventful year, and next year’s gonna be even busier.

L: Where are you headed, if you’re willing to share?

K: The Phillipines, and afterwards maybe Japan.

L: If those aren’t the perfect destinations for a romantic getaway! I hope all will work out as planned, you deserve it, Kerry!

K: Haha, yeah, think so. He deserves it, too.

L: Of course! We wish you all the best. And we hope to see more of you two together in the future, now that you’ve finally let the cat out of the bag. You’re certainly a breathtaking couple!

K: Thanks, Lacie.

Read the full, unabridged interview only on NETDIR://NCITY.SHOWBLIZZ.PUB

#cyberpunk 2077 #kerry eurodyne x v #kerry eurodyne #cyberpunk vp #cyberpunk fanfiction #cyberpunk edit #otp: to bad decisions #my screenshots #my edits #my vp

[spicysix]

long story short (part 3/3) | eddie munson x reader

this fic is part of a series: masterlist

summary: “Oh, is this a date I’m having with pantry girl?” He provoked, but you just nodded in response. “Can be if you want it to.” He actually looked shocked for a moment before bringing his charm back. “Does that mean I get to kiss you at the end of it?”

warnings: fem!reader - no physical description. no use of y/n. post s4 - canon divergence. heavy making-out, implied smut (not described).

word count: 2.3k

a/n: final part ot long story short! next up we're having 'tis the damn season. if you're familiar with miss Swift, you must imagine some angst is about to come 👀 it's gonna be another multi-chapter so if you wanna get everything as it comes out, don't forget to follow me and join my taglist 😉

day seven

12:48 p.m. The next few days after Eddie’s press conference/public audience had you going back and forth between Hawkins and Fort Wayne. The house your family was going to move to was not yet vacant, their previous owners still finishing up their own moving. But they allowed you to bring in some boxes to leave in their basement already, and Hopper had to empty the cabin for the Munsons anyway, so that’s what you were all mostly doing. With the destruction caused by the Mind Flayer last July, there wasn’t even much stuff salvageable to bring to Fort Wayne, but you were taking what you could carry.

You also took some time to visit Debrah, spend a day catching up with her. She did most of the talking, since her life wasn’t filled with trauma caused by interdimensional monsters (just some weird burning cracks in the middle of the town, but they were being taken care of already), and you were happy to listen to it. She was attending the local district Community College, not that far away from Hawkins, and wasn’t planning on moving any day now. Still a cheerleader, still planning on meeting the one there and living the american dream with him. You guessed she was just one of those people whose lives revolved around the minuscule city they were born and raised on. She wasn’t gonna leave that cycle. Well, if she was happy, great for her, you thought. A dose of normalcy was always good, to keep your feet grounded.

You only saw Eddie a few times those days, when you were leaving or coming to the hotel. Sometimes you also had lunch together - but it was never only the two of you. Part of you felt happy, because he was really hitting off with your family, the ones he hadn’t met yet, and seeing him and Will excitedly exchanging tips about D&D made your heart swell with fondness in a way you already knew would happen when you first met Eddie and told him about your little brother. He was also exchanging stories about getting high and exchanging tips about weed with Jonathan, but that was not nearly as adorable.

But it was your last day in Hawkins before you went back to California, Argyle’s Surfer Boy van cleaned and repaired for another three-day trip. You had a job back home that you were sure you’d lost already at this point, so you would have to find another one when you got there - to help with all the moving costs after your semester was over. You had no idea how Jon, Will and El would deal with their schools, but you had called some of your colleagues and asked them to talk to your teachers. You had good grades and no other classes missed since the beginning of college, so you were mostly sure none of them would care for your minor two-week absence.

Your biggest issue so far was that you already had a summer job hitched and your part of your next college tuition already paid (the other two thirds were thankfully covered by a scholarship) and wouldn’t be able to move back to Hawkins with the rest of your family on Summer. And you hadn’t told anyone that yet.

Well, that was a problem for future you.

You knocked on the door of room 107 as your family walked past you on the corridor, bidding you a ‘see you soon’. Jonathan throwing you a knowing smirk over his shoulder and you just flipped him the bird over yours.

Eddie opened the door, a faded Star Trek shirt and sweatpants hanging low from his hips. His hair all disheveled, looking like a cloud on a stormy day around his head. He smiled instantly at seeing you.

“Wanna grab lunch?” You invited.

02:09 p.m. First thing Eddie asked when you got to the diner was when the rest of your family would arrive. “They’re not coming, it’s just the two of us.” You answered.

“Oh, is this a date I’m having with pantry girl?” He provoked, but you just nodded in response.

“Can be if you want it to.”

He actually looked shocked for a moment before bringing his charm back. “Does that mean I get to kiss you at the end of it?”

“If you don’t eat something too garlicky, sure.” You winked and he laughed.

That was several minutes ago, and as you paid your half of the bill over the counter and Eddie rambled on about how Reefer Rick should hire a bugs exterminator to his lake house (how he got to that topic, honestly, you had no idea. But you liked hearing him ramble), you started to feel the butterflies in your stomach thinking if he was going to kiss you or not.

It was a long time due.

You walked back to the hotel, not that far away from the diner, in the slow pace you were already used to - for the sake of Eddie’s recovering injuries. His shoulder touched yours at every step, your pinkies intertwined at some point, and you felt like an eighth grader and her first crush.

You weren’t talking, just enjoying each other’s company. Your mind was dead set on that kiss he promised. You wondered if he was thinking about it too.

As you reached your hallway, his door was the closest and you really, really didn’t want this to be over. So you were bold enough to ask, “How ‘bout we watch something?”

You didn’t have much to pack, your ‘bag’ (if you could call it that, it was just a backpack) practically ready to go, and you were leaving first thing in the morning. You really wanted to enjoy those last few hours with him.

“Sure thing! Don’t tell anyone, but I love General Hospital. And I think it’s on now.” He used his key to open the door and bowed in a gesture to let you in the room first. “Wayne’s got some extra shifts so he won’t be back ‘till dawn, probably.”

You took off your cardigan and hung it on a coat rack beside the door, shoes on the floor under it. Next to the coat rack was the dresser, TV on top of it. There was only one bed, some of Eddie’s belongings scattered above it. And a couch on the side wall, with a pillow and a thin comforter folded up in the middle of it – surely Wayne’s.

As you walked to sit on the edge of the bed, you saw Eddie taking the same routine as you did before - taking off his jacket and shoes - but you also saw him discreetly locking the door. He walked to the bed, but stopped in front of you, knees touching, instead of sitting next to you.

“I don’t really wanna watch General Hospital.” Was all he said, a smirk growing in the corner of his mouth, and those butterflies were partying in your belly again.

“Oh, thank god.” You answered, as you carefully pulled him by the hem of his shirt.

He crouched above you as you crawled back on the bed, all slow movements. His hands were already on your face when you came to a stop, your back against the headboard as he kneeled in front of you.

You held your breath, ready to be interrupted one more time, as it always happened.

But nothing came.

Nothing except his soft lips on yours. Finally.

No more tug of war now. Finally.

Just you, and Eddie, and his skin on yours, and his breath hitting your nose, and the way his soft wavy mane tickled your face. Finally.

Your hands went up his torso, smoothly, and he quivered under your touch. You opened your legs to rest them on each side of his own, and one of his hands slowly made its way down to your neck while the other was still cradling your cheek. You felt the cold of his rings on your skin, giving you goosebumps, making you feel hot and bothered.

“God, I’ve missed this.” He murmured, lips still against yours, tickling a little bit.

“Yeah, me too.” You answered as you spread open mouthed kisses along his jaw. You felt his breath hitch.

“I’m not too garlicky, am I?”

You laughed and shook your head no. “You’re perfect.”

You pressed your mouth against his once more, lips parted this time, inviting him in and he went for it. His tongue brushed yours and you forgot completely about everything around you. Without separating your lips, you switched positions with him so he would be against the headboard as you straddled his hips. He let out a moan, and you saw yourself in reversed roles from when you first kissed five months ago.

Your hands were now traveling through each other’s whole bodies, melting under each other’s touch. His fingers tracing the hem of your skirt while yours felt the bumps of the scars on his neck. He didn’t seem to feel any pain from it, and as you lowered your head to kiss them, you felt his hands strongly grabbing your thighs.

“Holy shit,” he called your name, falling like a song from his lips. You licked all the way from his collarbone to his ears. “I- oh sweet baby Jesus, I really want you. I need you.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you, Eddie.” You were truly afraid, but you were also unconsciously rubbing your hips against his, searching for friction.

“You could never.” His hands went under your skirt to your ass and he grasped it tightly. You sighed before stopping your movements and distancing yourself just enough to look him in the eyes.

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Then I’m yours.”

His chocolate button eyes fluttered as you reached his lips once again. There was no rush. You felt the time stop around you, for you, as his hands stroked your legs and you pressed your chest to his. Your fingers lost in his hair, his nails scraping your skin, and he feels like home.

06:35 p.m. You woke up slowly.

The soft light from the moon was the only thing keeping the room from falling into full darkness. His chest was pressed against your back, his skin hot, almost burning you, like your own personal heater. His arm was draped over your waist, his fingers laced to yours resting under your breast. You let out a contented sigh.

You completely lost track of time as he was making love to you. You weren’t in love - not yet, at least -, but what you did was far from casual sex. You felt connected. He worshiped you, you reverenced him. And as you were finally tired, satisfied, sweat covering your bodies, the sheets all disheveled and Eddie’s belongings on the floor beside your clothes, you felt safe and comforted enough to drift to a dreamless sleep.

You turned around to face him, and your movements slowly woke him up too. His brown eyes not so big now, narrowed from all the sleep, but caring nonetheless. He still looked at you as if you placed the sun in the sky.

He smiled and you smiled back, tracing the freckles on his nose with the tip of your fingers, feeling him drawing figures with his own fingers on your hips. You swore you could stay like this forever.

But his adoring eyes searched your face for something, for answers. You could read him too easily.

“Wanna know how this gonna go?” You asked for him. You saw his Adam’s apple rise and drop, and he just nodded in response. “We are going back to Cali tomorrow, me, Jon, Will and my mom. And Argyle, obviously. El’s gonna stay here with Hopper. I’m going to help my family with their belongings, and they’re coming back and moving to Fort Wayne in two weeks, probably.” You paused.

“And you?” He asked after a beat of silence.

“I… have a summer job. And a paid tuition. So I won’t be able to move back with them just yet.” His eyes fled from yours for a second. “But I’ll visit constantly.” You tried to reassure. Reassure him, or yourself. You weren’t sure. “So, I’ll see you at the end of summer. And you can bother me some more then.”

He laughed, which calmed you down a bit. He didn’t ask anything else for a few more minutes, and you stood in silence as his caresses on your skin were still soothing you.

“I’ll be waiting.” He didn’t look at you as he said it, burying his face on your neck. You closed your eyes and squeezed him harder against you. “By the way, you didn’t jinx me, ‘ya know?” His voice was low and muffled, but you could still discern the words.

“What?” You pulled on his hair, not strongly enough to hurt, only so he would back up and face you again. He did.

“I… I’m not sure, maybe I invented it. I thought I heard you talking to me. You said you’d jinx me. I don’t think you did.”

You were shocked, but managed a response after a few seconds of silence. “You didn’t invent it. I did say that.”

“Really?” You nodded. “Oh, wow, the human mind really is a mystery.” He scoffed. “But, again, you didn’t jinx me. You got me through it, actually.”

You giggled before kissing him as your response. His hands were slowly going up and down your back, calloused tip of his fingers making you shiver. You buried your hands in his hair again. Everything was happening in slow motion, his lips covering yours, his tongue tracing yours, his hands stroking you, raising the hair on your skin. You kissed for what felt like hours before he let you go and those beautiful eyes of his met yours once more.

“Will you stay? Until you really gotta go?”

How could you say no?

So you didn’t.

“I’ll really stay this time. Until I have to go.”

---

Taglist: @totallynotkaibiased @apublicnotebook

#eddie munson/reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #reader insert #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fic #joseph quinn #eddie munson #stranger things fic #stranger things #eddie munson/you #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x reader angst #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #lui writes #evermore series

[faggotmox]

trauma magnet: all day breakfast (ch1)

rating: teen pairing: Jon Moxley/Bryan Danielson, Claudio Castagnoli/Eddie Kingston, Jon Moxley/Eddie Kingston word count: 5,044 warnings: a lot of swearing & tobacco use (cigarettes & dip), dude bro talk, dude bro behavior author’s notes: this is an AU where Mox & Eddie are an EMS crew while Bryan & Claudio run a coffee shop/bakery. ao3 link: [ one ] series masterlist: [ post ] chapter summary: The only places open at 4am are coffee shops. Eddie & Mox decide to check a place out while on the job. It has nothing to do with the fact that the barista & baker are both very hot. The EMS crew is just hungry.

“I’m--”

“Don’t fuckin’ start.” Mox declared sharply, his eyes not leaving the comic book in hand.

“There’s nothin--”

“I swear to God, Kingston, if you jinx us you’re gonna be the one in need of an ambulance. Ya hear?” Mox looked up from his reading finally to glare at Eddie from across the cab of their truck.

“Easy for you to say. You got readin’ material.” Eddie grumbled as he sunk further into the passenger seat. 

“Bro, you--” Mox sighed and slapped the comic book down in his lap. “I let you pick the music, didn’t I? Is this not a forever playlist of DMX?” 

“...It is.” Eddie gave in and sighed. “Sorry. Sorry. Go back to your fuckin’ comic.”

“Thank you.” Mox shook his head as he looked back at the color pictures but couldn’t focus anymore on the story. “God damn it.”

“Yeah?” Eddie grinned over at his partner.

“Don’t be fuckin’ smug about it.” Mox grumbled as he got out his dip container and packed his lip. “I fuckin’ hate you.”

“Uh-huh.” Eddie chuckled. “C’mon, I know we’re new around here but not a single call? Not even a bandaid?” 

“I’d rather be bored, my man.” Mox shifted in his seat before leaning forward against the steering wheel. “You know I’m fuckin’ superticous about this shit. Why ya keep it up? When you supposedly love me so much?”

“‘Cause I like fucking with you too much.” Eddie cackled as he smacked a pack of cigarettes against his palm.

“Wait, you gonna smoke?” Mox glared.

“Since when do you give a fuck about smokin’ in the rig?” Eddie frowned.

“Don’t give a fuck, but I just put in my dip.” Mox pouted. “You coulda said somethin’.”

“Ah! I see. I see. Well, you could quit that disgusting habit and pick up something cleaner. Like my cigarettes.” Eddie popped one stick into his mouth. “Seriously, your teeth are already…”

“Hey!” Mox leaned over to punch Eddie but the other didn’t respond much other than an ouch. “What’re you distracted by?”

“Who.” Eddie blinked a few times and rubbed his eyes. “Dude, look at this hot guy. Across the street. Fifty feet tall, shaved head, beard?” 

“Oh fuck, dude.” Mox looked in the direction Eddie was looking and spotted the giant. “He is hot. What the fuck?”

“God damn.” Eddie watched the tall man closely.

The man in question stood on the sidewalk of a coffee shop and bakery with a black apron tied around his waist and a broom in hand. The clock said it was 4 in the morning which meant the coffee shop was opening. The sign above the shop window said Claudio’s Cafe & the Blackpool Bakery . Eddie watched the man sweep, the black t-shirt he wore with the cafe’s name on the back pulled taunt over his biceps and chest in the most perfect way. The jeans were a similar story but Eddie never minded a squeal, especially a good one. 

“Moxie.” Eddie sat up more, leaning on the dash. “Am I in love?” 

“Nah.” Mox chuckled. “You’re just hungry. I bet they have pie.” 

This time Eddie reached out and slugged Mox’s shoulder making the other howl. Mox was laughing his way through the sting when the glass door of the cafe opened up and another man stepped out. Considerably shorter, but Mox noted that he had a full head of hair. Long hair pulled up into a neat bun. A blank white t-shirt concealed hefty muscles, already there was flour on the black apron he wore. The pair exchanged words before the one in the white shirt went back inside.

“I want the short one.” Mox declared as quickly as his brain would let him.

“Fuckin’ have him. He looks annoying as fuck.” Eddie shook his head. “I got big boy.”

“Dispatch,” Mox gripped the walkie talkie on his shoulder. “This is Elite-12. We’re stepping out for breakfast. Radio’s hot. Over.”

“Confirmed, Elite-12.” The crackling voice came over the radio. “Drink some coffee for me too. Over.” 

"You got it, Orange.” Mox responded as they got out of the ambulance. “Elite-12 out.”

As they made their way across the street Mox fixed his t-shirt, tucking it back in where it came loose. Eddie flipped his FDNY cap backwards and rearranged his belt as they approached the cafe. The one Eddie called ‘big boy’ had stepped back inside while they were on their way over so Mox stopped them before the door.

“Hang on.” Mox fixed Eddie’s button up where one of the buttons had come loose. “There ya go.” 

“Always lookin’ out for me, Mox.” Eddie pushed the door open for Mox to step through first. They were greeted before the door swung shut.

“Good morning.” The one in the white t-shirt greeted them without looking up from the display case he was working on. Mox bit his lip at the slightly nasally voice. Everything about the guy read smug. 

“Welcome to our cafe.” The other man had an accent that made Eddie want to bark, and an absolutely beautiful smile to match. A much warmer personality Eddie gravitated towards. 

“Thanks.” Mox responded back automatically as he watched the man work in the display case, putting out freshly made baked goods. 

“My pal and I were wondering which one of you was Claudio.” Eddie slithered up to the counter that the man with the accent was behind. 

“Oh?” The man looked over at the one in the display case, who finally popped his head out. Like this was an ongoing thing they got.

“Which one of us do you think is Claudio?” The baker asked as he looked over the EMS crew. Eddie and Mox shared a look before looking at the taller man.

“It’s the tall one.” Eddie said at the same time as Mox spoke.

“You.” Mox gestured to the taller man.

“You’re correct.” Claudio looked a little smug. “Sorry, you do not look like a Claudio, Bryan.” He shrugged before looking at Eddie. “Paramedic Kingston?” 

“You can just call me Eddie.” Eddie smiled back, turning on the charm. “So it’s your cafe.”

“Yes, it’s my cafe.” Claudio nodded. “But it’s Bryan’s bakery.”

“Good. I thought Blackpool was a strange first name.” Mox joked but the baker, Bryan, simply rolled his eyes. “I’m Mox.”

“J. Moxley.” Bryan indicated the name printed on Mox’s department t-shirt.

“Jon Moxley, but my friends call me Mox.” Mox started looking at the pastries Bryan was putting out, his mouth was practically watering and Bryan didn’t need to know that it wasn’t really about the baked goods.

“EMT Moxley.” Bryan said definitively. “Were you looking for breakfast or just curious?” 

“You’ve been out there for quite a few hours. I can imagine you must be tired and bored.” Claudio looked Eddie over as they talked. “What kind of coffee can I get you?” 

“Something strong.” Eddie pointedly looked at Claudio’s arms when he said that.

“Something sweet or plain?” Claudio asked as he started getting the espresso ground and packed. Eddie was choosing to read into the question. Claudio was sweet, Bryan was plain, Eddie thought.

“Sweet.” Eddie winked and then started watching Claudio’s hands pack the portafilter. “Some cream too.

“I’ll fix you up, Eddie.” Claudio smiled warmly as he latched the portafilter into the machine and started it. The heavy smell of fresh coffee filled the room.

“It all looks really good actually.” Mox was actually distracted by the pastries by now. They all looked perfect, like they should be in an overly expensive shop in Manhattan or at a school. “Uh…what’s your favorite thing to make?”

Bryan blinked at the question, his eyes narrowed as he formulated his response. Before the baker could speak though the crackle of the EMS radio sounded out into the quiet cafe. Neither Mox nor Eddie reacted, but Claudio and Bryan jumped. The voice spoke grumbled nonsense that the pair seemed to understand. They made eye contact with a nod and Eddie turned his set off and Mox turned his set down a bit more and readjusted the belt he wore as bandolier.

“Is the belt standard issue?” Bryan looked at the regular leather belt. 

“He used to be a firefighter. Kinda their little trick. Makes it easier to carry and work the radios.” Eddie explained as Mox nodded along. 

“Why don’t you wear yours like that then?” Claudio asked, nodded at the radio being latched to Eddie’s belt and shoulder lapel holding the held set. 

“Eddie ain’t a firefighter.” Mox shrugged. Bryan considered Mox in a way he couldn’t read.

“Why not?” Bryan looked over Eddie.

“Are you kidding? I ain’t running into no fuckin’ burning buildings, my man. I’m not scaling tall buildings. You ever see how hard it is to put out a fuckin’ fire? Nah. That’s for the birds.” Eddie shook his head quickly, clearly displeased at the thought of being a firefighter. “Save that shit for the insane and stupidly brave.” Eddie pointed at Mox who just shrugged. “Gave me daily heart attacks when he was doin’ that shit.” 

“It was fun.” Mox responded innocently, a little smile on his face. “While it lasted at least.”

“Your life expectancy is longer.” Eddie looked over at Claudio and smirked. “Watch this. It means you can smoke more cigarettes since you’re not inhalin’ all that smoke.”

“Amen to that, brother.” Mox grinned back. “And I get to ride with you every fuckin’ day.”

"Cute. How long have you two been married?" Bryan deadpanned.

"You're mean." Mox grinned over the glass at Bryan. "I think that's hot." Bryan tried his best to keep a straight face.

"Blueberry scone." Bryan finally said.

"What?" Mox blinked at him.

"You asked for my favorite pastry to make. Today it's a blueberry scone." Bryan rolled his eyes, speaking a little slowly just to be a dick.

"Alright, asshole. Then let’s have it.." Mox grinned and then looked over at Claudio. "Can I just get a drip coffee?"

"I want that muffin." Eddie pointed one out to Bryan as he got Mox's on a plate.

"Sure." Bryan rolled his eyes at the demanding tone as he plated both pastries, handing them over to Mox above the glass. Normally Bryan walked them to the table or the boxes for to go orders went to the register. Handing things over the glass wasn't professional.

"Here you are, Mox " Claudio sat out a to-go cup of black coffee for Mox then next to it sat another cup out for Eddie. "And for you, Eddie."

"Thanks, Claudio." Eddie extended the o a little as he took his coffee. "What do we owe you?" Eddie asked as Mox took a seat at one of the nearby tables with their food.

"Don't worry about it." Claudio waved his hand dismissively but Bryan was glaring dagger at him.

"Alright, alright. I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth." Eddie shrugged and took their coffees to the table.

The pair behind the counter graviated towards each other as Mox and Eddie found a seat. Claudio and Bryan stood side by side, whispering a bit as Mox and Eddie got ready to eat. The crackle of the radio sounded again.

"Elite-12. Come in." The radio on Mox's shoulder spoke.

"No." Eddie glared at Mox. "Don't. Do not answer it. We just sat down."

"Eddie." Mox shook his head.

"Elite-12, I know you're listening." The bored voice got louder as Mox turned it up. "Got a 45 year old female with chest pains." A beat. "Come on, Elite-12. It's life or death or whatever."

"This is Elite-12 responding. Over." Mox radioed back.

"Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck this lady. Let's fuckin’ go." Eddie stood up with a huff, a look of longing cast at the food and drinks.

"Finally." Orange sighed into the radio and started repeating the address as the pair left the cafe in a hurry.

"Thanks!" Mox called out as they left.

"Come back and see us." Claudio waved, hoping his voice got to them before the door swung shut.

The pair hurried across the stress to the ambulance. The traffic stopped for them as they recklessly went into the stress. Mox was on his way to the driver's side while Eddie was able to jump right into the passage seat.

“Hang on, Eddie.” Mox jogged around the far side of the ambulance as Eddie was climbing in.

“Hang on? We gotta fuckin’ go! MOXLEY!” Eddie shouted, leaning over to throw open the door to Mox’s side. “The fuck--”

Mox was retching hard, one knee on the ground and mostly losing whatever was in his stomach. Luckily none of Bryan’s baked goods or Claudio’s coffee. Eddie groaned, hitting the lights but not sound just yet. Mox threw up a few more times, spats and then quickly got into the ambulance. 

“You gonna explain yourself?” Eddie passed Mox an old bottle of water. 

Mox was somehow weaving in and out of traffic, flipping the siren, and throwing back the water before spitting it back into the bottle. There was a heavy sigh from him before he tossed the bottle onto the floor.

“Holy fuck.” Mox shook his head. “We walked in and I knew if he saw me dippin’ he’d be fucking digusted.”

“Jon.” Eddie snapped his head to the side to stare at his friend. “Did you fuckin’ swallow your lip full of dip?”

“Yeah.” Mox said miserably. “I fuckin’ swallowed it.” 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, dude.” Eddie just stared at his friend.

“It was fuckin’ stupid. A snap decision. I don’t know why I thought that was the solution.” Mox groaned, punching the steering wheel. “Fuckin’ move!” He honked at a car that had yet to notice the emergency service vehicle. “He was just…so fuckin’ smug and god damn pretty, Eddie, I panicked.” 

“Brother.” Eddie shook his head and looked back at the road as Mox swung around the car. “I don’t even know what the fuck to say to that. Don’t do it again?”

“Sure fuckin’ bet I won’t do it again!” Mox laughed. “I might just fuckin’ give up dip now.”

“Disgusting, dude. Wait you swallowed that at the…like just as we walked in?” Eddie gagged. “You had to fuckin’ throw up that whole time? Are you okay?” 

“I think I’m good now.” Mox sighed, actually soundly still miserable as he held his stomach. “How much longer we got?” 

“Six hours. Sorry.” Eddie sighed as they double parked on the curb of a complex. “Let’s ride. Grab the lifepack, and don’t fuckin’ throw up.”

It was a very long, busy six hours and forty five minutes for Eddie and Mox. They dropped off their last patient at the nearby ER nicknamed the Butcher Shop due to the fact that the doctor that ran the night shift was named “Butcher” Williams, and the head nurse was called the Blade. They all burned some time on the clock chatting and talking shop before Eddie and Mox dragged themselves back to the EMS station.

Of course they had to do all their logging and cleaning up. By the time everything was done Mox was sleeping sitting up in the cleaned and restocked ambulance. Eddie shook his partner awake. It was a difficult task to get Mox to open his eyes.

“C’mon. We’re not sleeping here again.” Eddie urged, pulling and tugging at Mox’s arm.

“Who cares? I’m tired.” Mox grumbled as he tried to lay down on the bench seat. 

“If you get your ass up not only will I drive us, but I’ll make sad rice when we get home.” Eddie promised. He was the least tired of the two. Mox hadn’t gotten much sleep and he was always determined to be the one driving simply because he knew Eddie hated it.

“Sad rice?” Mox perked up, pushing himself up onto his elbow. “For real?”

“Yeah. I’ll make it while you shower, okay?” Eddie sighed, reaching out to ruffle Mox’s shaggy reddish brown hair. “C’mon, buddy, you deserve to sleep in your own bed. Yeah?”

“Okay. Fine.” Mox sighed as he finally got up.

They stumbled out of the back of the rig together and headed through the front office leaning on one another. While Mox had finished up the last of their duties on the ambulance Eddie had stored their bags in the truck they drove to work together. To this day Eddie wasn’t sure how they managed to live together, drive to work together, work in close quarters together, and then go back home together, but they did, and they had for a while.

“Mox, Eddie!” Excalibur called out from behind his desk, waving them back over. 

“Yo, Captain. We can’t. Sorry. I barely even got Mox walkin--”

“Would you shut up for just a second, Kingston?” Excalibur threw a pen across the small room at Taz, the lieutenant, when he snickered. “A kid from some fancy cafe delivered you guys something. Here. The crew were going to eat so I, being the good guy I am, brought it in here. Where I only had to fight off Taz.”

“You guys ain’t getting Reversed Nightinggaled, are ya?” Taz asked. “Because that’s a nice fucking breakfast.”

“What?” Mox looked at the plain white box and opened it up. There was some sort of puff pastry with cheese and meat, probably more. “Oh shit. This is from Bryan and Claudio.”

“Woah.” Eddie stared at the food in front of them. It looked incredible, delicious. Something out of a cookbook.

“We drank the coffee though. It was gonna be cold by the time you got here.” Taz shrugged. 

“That’s true. It was our fee for watching over the food.” Excalibur grinned. 

“Also no, we’re not getting fucking Nightinggaled or whatever.” Eddie went to reach in to grab some of the pastry but Mox batted his hand away.

“Wait till we get home.” Mox grunted as he closed the box. “It was a cafe we were parked across from. We sat down to eat breakfast and got a call before we could have any of it.” Mox explained as he picked up the box. 

“What cafe?” Excalibur asked. “Oh, wait. There's a card.  It was loose. Hang on.” He got up to get his uniform jacket and pulled out the card. “There.”

“Thanks.” Eddie took it. “It’s called Claudio’s Cafe & the Blackpool Bakery.” Eddie recited without really thinking about it, having committed the place to memory. 

“People love to give us free shit.” Taz finally tossed the pen back at Excalibur. 

“Hell yeah, they do.” Eddie grinned. “I think we’re also gonna fuck these guys. They’re hot. Well, Claudio is hot. The baker is a bitch.”

“I wish you the best of luck in that, but please don’t do it on the clock, gentlemen.” Excalibur sighed and put the pen away, clearly calling an end to his fight with Taz.

“Get yours, boys. Bakers tend to be bitches, but that’s Mox’s type, huh?” Taz grinned.

“Fuck you, Taz. How do you know anything about bakers?” Mox asked as they headed towards the door.

“The same way you’re learning about bakers, kid. Get out of here. Don’t come back. You boys look tired.” Taz shooed them off with a dismissive hand gesture.

“What he said.” Excalibur grunted. “Enjoy your days off, guys.”

“Thanks, Cap. Lou.” Eddie tipped his Yankees cap to them.

They left to Taz’s comments about baseball.

The fifteen minute drive home was too long for Mox, who slept on the window as they passed through the sunlight city. It was sometime around noon and they’d soon be home to go to bed. The radio played sport reports Eddie tried to pay attention to so he didn’t nod off between the station and their driveway. The smell of Bryan’s food was really what kept Eddie awake.

Once they pulled into the house Eddie left the truck running as he took in their bags and the food. Mox got a few minutes extra to sleep. Their yellow lab greeted Eddie at the door and followed him to and from the truck. 

“Wake up Mox, Deano. That’s a good girl.” Eddie led their dog through the driver's side door.

Deano jumped into the seat and then dropped into Mox’s lap, slowly scooting her snout under Mox’s arm and making quiet whines. Slowly Mox’s eyes opened and Deano lifted up to lick his face.

“Oh, hey, girl.” Mox grinned as he put his arms around the dog and buried his face in her neck. “I missed you. What a good girl. So sweet, wakin’ me up.”

Deano was practically Mox’s service dog at this point. They had trained her to do a few things to help Mox but she was older and already had many years under her being a search & rescue dog. Mox was definitely her human, though she loved Eddie just as much. 

“Let’s get inside.” Mox unclipped his seat belt before getting out.

They trudged inside with Eddie. They got onto the porch and Mox had to kick off his work boots. Eddie’s already gone and replaced by his slides. Their dirty uniforms were tucked into a laundry basket outside as well. None of their work clothes made it inside until they washed them and cleaned their boots on the porch. Deano patiently waited just inside the door for them. 

It was a routine they could do in their sleep which was good because they were both asleep on their feet. Eddie urged Mox to the shower as he got their food ready to eat. It didn’t take Mox long to stumble down the steps from his shower, too exhausted to even enjoy that.

“Gonna take Deano out while you shower. Then food?” Mox looked so hopeful.

“Of course, dude.” Eddie chuckled as he started up the stairs. 

Mox went to the back door to let Deano out. There was a doggie door but when they got home one or both of them would take her out, let her run around and play some fetch. They were gone so much they worked to make time for her. After all, Deano deserved it. On long shifts sometimes they left her at the station with Taz or Excalibur or Tony. Sometimes their neighbors would check on her.

“C’mon, Deano!” Mox grinned as he threw the ball and she took off at top speed for the fences to get the ball.

Mox could get lost in these moments. Simple, and easy with his dog. After the day they had. The days they have. The weight of it all sometimes hung too heavy on Mox, and he needed to ground himself in his own life. Deano had been perfect for that. He loved their dog so much. Deano darted back and happily gave him the ball, they repeated this until she decided to play with him. When Mox reached for the ball on the ground she dropped onto the ground and acted like she was going to get Mox’s hand.

“Hey!” Mox laughed and then darted out to playfully, and gently, tackle Deano.

“Ready for breakfast?” Eddie asked as he brought everything out onto the porch, freshly cleaned up and looking a little more alive. 

“Yeah. Yeah. C’mon, Deano.” Mox snapped his fingers for her to follow. Before sitting down he poured a cup of food for Deano and while she chomped he took his seat. “I’m so exhausted I feel like I’m not going to actually be able to enjoy it.”

“I feel like I’m not refine enough to know what I’m enjoyin’.” Eddie grumbled as he watched Mox cut and lift out the pastry Eddie had heated back up. “Here.” He slid a cold diet coke to Mox and took his own Sprite. 

“You thought of everything.” Mox sat back. “Here it goes.”

They both started eating. After the first bite they locked eyes and groaned as they ate the most amazing breakfast they’d ever had. Incredibly flaky and buttery, savory and cooked perfect. Mox couldn’t quite believe it was as good as it looked. Or that Bryan was running just some bakery in the city. The place had been new too. 

“Okay, I didn’t want to have to give it to him but that bitch is a fuckin’ good baker.” Eddie grumbled as he shoved more into his mouth. “Like what the fuck even is this? How is it so good?”

“I’ve never had a savory pastry before.” Mox spoke quietly as he tried to commit everything to memory. He wasn’t a food guy. Things kinda mostly tasted the same to him, or just big flavors stood out. This was subtle and perfect, prepared by someone who could taste every ingredient. “We should go back tomorrow afternoon.”

“We fuckin’ should.” Eddie looked up. “Hey, what’d the card say by the way?”

“Oh fuck. Forgot about the card.” Mox said through a mouth full of food, getting up to dart inside. The card was in his pocket in his jacket by the front door.

As he came back he opened it up, sliding the hefty fine card out of the equally elegant envelope. The paper was a coffee brown. The front had Claudio’s Cafe & the Blackpool Bakery beautifully handwritten across it, perfectly spaced letters in perfect swooping penmanship. It wasn’t a stamp though. When Mox opened up the letter the top portion of the card was filled with the neatly handwritten recipe on the top of the card, in the same handwriting as the front. It included everything, how much, and serving sizes. Below that was different handwriting telling them how nice it was to meet them.

“Eddie & Mox, meeting you this morning was wonderful. A nice change from the normal trickle of customers. We hope to have you back, but in the meantime enjoy Bryan’s jambon.” Mox read aloud, not totally sure how to say jambon. 

“Claudio is fucking cute.” Eddie reached over to take the letter and read it himself.

“He’s seven feet tall and jacked. Not cute. Very sexy though.” Mox chuckled as he took another bite of his food. “Bryan’s cute. I wanna watch him make his fuckin’ little pastries.”

“And eat his ass.” Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Shut up.” Mox laughed, shaking his head. “I bet his ass is as good as his baking.”

“Please. I’m fuckin’ eatin’ here!” Eddie shook his head, dramatically pretending he could throw up. “Don’t ruin the one thing I like about the dude.”

“His ass?” Mox teased as he took the note back.

“His cooking, bitch!” Eddie had half a mind to throw his fork at Mox. “Anyways, Claudio is obviously the catch. Bryan couldn’t even write a note, just the recipe. Like we’re gonna make it ourselves, please.”

“It’s probably just his way of saying thanks. He had to make it after all.” Mox pointed out.

“Fine. Whatever.” Eddie sighed as he finished his plate, pushing it forward and then pulling out a package of cigarettes. “Wanna?” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Mox was still stuffing his face, eyes glued to the careful, perfectly spaced capital letters that made up Bryan’s handwriting. The last bite of Mox’s breakfast was savored as he took the newly lit cigarette from Eddie. “We’re going to the Ranger’s game tomorrow night with Santana & Ortiz, right?”

“Yeah, we’re supposed to.” Eddie looked over at Mox, the idea transferring from Mox to Eddie without a word. “Or they could have something else to do and we could take the baker and the hot guy.”

“Exactly.” Mox grinned as he sucked down the smoke. “We’ll go sometime tomorrow and invite them.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Eddie paused. “What if they don’t like hockey?” 

“Then we give the tickets back to Santana & Ortiz and do something else with them?” Mox suggested as he got their plates together. 

“Yeah, yeah. I mean, I really wanted to go to that game.” Eddie frowned.

“Fuck off. C’mon.” Mox exhaled. “We can go any time we’re off.”

“We can also chase dick any time we’re off.” Eddie shrugged. “We kinda chase dick when we’re at work too though.”

“Think chasing dick is just our default.” Mox grinned.

“You’re right. Chasing dick, smoking sticks.” Eddie reached out to bump fists with Mox in their absolutely ridiculous manor. 

“You should be a poet, Eddie. Really.” Mox leaned back in his chair. “They’re cool. Seem cool at least.”

“Cool? Don’t know about that, but I do know I wanna fuck Claudio until he cries and I’m pretty sure he’s into the idea.” Eddie looked off into the distance, reimaging their meeting this morning. “You didn’t get close enough, but Moxie, his eyes. They’re so pretty. His smile is just…” 

“Calm down, dude. How can you even tell what he wants, Eddie? You talked to him for like five minutes.” Mox always doubted Eddie’s ability to clock a compatible partner in bed. The man could nail down someone’s sexual prefances like he was reading a list, and had done so to Mox many times. Mox still always doubted. “I just don’t get how you can clock that he wants you to fuck him until he cries from like 30 words.” 

“Well,” Eddie took a huge drawl off his cigarette. “It’s a vibe, babe. Just gotta read it. I’m putting out a vibe, he’s sending it back. I don’t know, but I’ll let you know if he’s into it when I do fuck him.”

“You’re pretty sure of yourself.” Mox considered this for a moment. “Twenty bucks says Claudio wants to fuck you until you cry.”

“Oh, you’re on, kid.” Eddie cackled. “I’ll do ya one better. Twenty says I fuck Claudio in the described fashion, but also I bet you an additional twenty that Bryan is a fuckin’ freak who is gonna fuck you sideways.” 

“Do normal people have these kinds of conversations and shit?” Mox laughed, rubbing his forehead. “Fine, but define ‘fucks me sideways’.” 

“He looks like he does yoga. I mean, literally fuck you sideways.” Eddie stubbed out he butt of his cigarette. 

“Fine, fine. You’re on.” Mox shrugged. “Don’t know how I’m the fuckin’ normal one between us.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re anything but the normal one.” Eddie took the dishes and headed inside.

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