#rj: fanfiction

[reluctantjoe]

Just a Taste (William Agar & Caroline Lessing)

Summary: "There was always something whenever these meetings occurred - a tension too sharp. Inappropriate thoughts ran wildly and freely in Caroline’s mind at even hearing William’s determined voice. She wondered if it was ever the same for him." Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Plot with references to mature subjects. Allusions to Dom!William, Sub!Caroline. Mild injuries. Implied masturbation. Allusions to jealousy. Allusions to (somewhat) jealous sex. Allusions to extramarital affair. Teasing. Implied Sub!William, Dom!Caroline. Blood kink. Word Count: 1,347 Where To Read: Ao3 | Tumblr (you're here!) A/N: My first ever pairing fic! This is an alternative ending to 'The Madman's Trial' scene in 'Quacks' where Caroline is cleaning up William's injuries. And although I feel bad for doing so, I just can't help but ship them (Sorry, Robert.) - Caroline is too good for Robert and William is too good for Mina! In an alternate universe (or hypothetical second series), William and Caroline are a couple and living their best lives! Anyway, I hope those who read this enjoy it. As always, if I have missed any Warnings, then please let me know. Any reblogs and/or comments are greatly appreciated! Tag List: @jamiewintons | @pink-booty-butts

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Caroline sighed as the excess water from her cloth drained into the bowl. This had become part of her weekly routine at this point. Another blood-stained cloth from another incident was beginning to form against William’s blood-stained lips. Why, oh why did he insist on getting himself into these battles when the results were always the same?

She had to admire his willingness, though. He dared to try, and he was brave to do so, knowing the insane individuals he would meet up with could (and most likely, would) cause him harm. She just wished that they didn’t. Some small part of her wished he would give up - try something new. She was tired of this weekly occurrence, and her heart broke for him when William would look at her with defeated eyes once more - another attempt to cure the mad failed.

“I’m sorry,” William winced, the cut on his lip stinging from the cloth. As much as he tried to hide the thrill of, dare say, even speaking to Caroline, the guilt of her practically becoming his nurse carried deeply. “You should be with Robert, not cleaning up a failed alienist. But you are kind enough to do this, no matter the appearance I show you every week. Thank you, Caroline.”

Despite Caroline’s ashamed thoughts of wanting William to step away from this, even just for a day, she knew that isn’t what he needed to hear right now. He needed reassurance and she was more than happy to provide that - no matter the type or repercussions.

“William, as your friend, it is my duty to care. You are so brave and what you do is extraordinary. Besides, I like taking care of you.” Caroline’s eyes met William’s and locked for a second too long.

There was always something whenever these meetings occurred - a tension too sharp. Inappropriate thoughts ran wildly and freely in Caroline’s mind at even hearing William’s determined voice. She wondered if it was ever the same for him.

Have images such as her’s ever dared to preoccupy his mind? Has he ever touched himself? Touched himself to the thought of her? Did he ever imagine the words that would be spoken into her ear, as he would run his hands down her form? Too scandalous for words, would he care that she was taken by Robert? Or would that set jealousy within - causing him to want to prove how good he could make her feel; the pleasure he could bring by his praise and worship, and the most delicate yet precise touches to the most intimate part of her body?

William’s voice brought Caroline back to reality. “Are you okay?” He asked, concernedly, “You seem to be in deep thought, Caroline. I hope my injuries haven’t disgusted you.”

It was then that she was reminded of the fight he and Harold got into during the fake trial. How helpless the crowd was; how she was. How he was. The shouting and flailing around on the floor. The punches; the gasps. The bead of blood on William’s lip that was slowly appearing by the sheer force of Harold’s outburst…

“Caroline? Caroline, are you quite alright?”

“Yes!” Caroline cleared her throat and straightened up, the continuous bending down starting to ache her lower back. “Yes, William, I am fine. Your injuries haven’t disgusted me at all. Are you turning into a mad man too?”

William chuckled at Caroline’s joke. He appreciated the humour at this embarrassing and painful time, but he also noticed a slight sense of falseness. “You seem to be a little red. Are you feeling well? Would you like me to observe you? It is the last thing I can do, I can assure you.”

Caroline went back to the bowl to soak the cloth once more. “I was just thinking back to the trial. The pure lunacy of the man! You looked so…” She tried to contain herself and her thoughts. She didn’t want to skip too far ahead to what was a frightful time for William, but God, a gorgeous mess for her. “...helpless. When Harold pushed you onto the floor and hit you. The blood…”

“Yes, it wasn’t the best sight, was it? How embarrassing of me to think I could help.”

Caroline finally squeezed the excess water back into the bowl once more, but this time, placed the cloth onto the table. She faced William and walked back to him. While attending to him, Caroline was careful not to clean up everything so quickly. She bent down again and slowly traced her finger across William’s blooded lip.

“Caroline, what are you-”

She tilted William’s chip up with her other hand, making sure his eyes were only fixated on her. On her mesmerised face. On her finger with his blood.

William’s knuckles turned white by the act. He shifted but didn’t dare to look down, as though to dismiss the shiver he felt by this new intimidating position he found himself in. A gulp came next because should he speak, he was scared of the outcome. The thought of the noise he would make sent him deeper into his perplexed yet newly founded submissive state.

“Mm, yes.” Caroline turned her attention to her blooded finger, while still holding William’s chin with her other hand. “What is it I called you earlier, William?” She circled her finger with her thumb, spreading the fluid. “Helpless?”

Caroline faced William again, the most stunned expression greeting her. She finally dropped the hand at his chin and William breathed out deeply.

What just happened? What was Caroline up to? He was stunned. He tried to compose himself. William remembered his blood was still on Caroline. His face shot up, not knowing where to begin.

“You-”

“Poor thing.” William gulped. “Oh, don’t be so nervous, William. I’m not going to hurt you.” Caroline bent down once more, but this time, made sure to get as close to William’s ear without raising suspicion to the public.

“I have a blood kink,” She breathed into his ear.

Those words sent William insane. He tried to say something, anything, but he found his throat closed up and dry; the air nearly knocked out of him by Caroline’s statement.

Caroline returned to her standing position. With only the face that could only be described as enchanted, adorned by William, she decided to take it one step further. With hesitation, she looked around, almost as if to see if the coast was clear. She locked onto William’s eyes once more and slowly put her blooded finger into her mouth. William was in a daze; hypnotised, even, by Caroline’s action. Every movement she made with her finger until his blood was on her dominant tongue was tracked by his eyes.

William was out of it. He thought this was a dream. He thought he would wake up and have to take care of things. But what Caroline did next proved to be the opposite.

With one finger now licked clean of William’s blood, there was only her thumb to go. This new found confidence Caroline had was now desperate to be shown. With less hesitation this time, she quickly glanced around, and returned her gaze to William.

Quickly and quietly, she placed her thumb onto William’s lower lip. “Open up,” She whispered. Without even realising what was happening or what he was doing, William opened his mouth and felt Caroline’s thumb in his mouth. His blood in his mouth. Caroline’s thumb, with his blood, in his mouth. He ought to find it disgusting. But he was entranced. This feeling was foreign, yet he loved it. He couldn’t help but emit a strangled whine from his throat; he prayed Caroline didn’t hear.

After she was sure the rest of William’s blood was gone, Caroline slowly removed her thumb from William’s mouth. “There we go. Thank you for being so good while I cleaned you up, William. I’ll see you tomorrow, yes? Try not to get into too many fights before then. Otherwise I may just have to clean you up again.”

[happy74827]

The Lesson of Reality

[Rick Grimes and Child!Reader]

Synopsis: You accidentally get a lot more “experience” than what Rick had planned.

WC: 3080

Category: Slight Angst, S6!Rick (no TOWL spoilers) {TW — Gore, Violence, Walkers, Blood, Death}

There’s so many fics about Daryl being a father figure that it’s about time that Rick had his Joel Miller moment (especially now that all the episodes of The Ones Who Live have aired). So have fun with this cute Protective!Rick moment.

『••✎••』

They say when times are tough, people can rise to the occasion and show their true colors. For some, it's an opportunity to prove they can survive the hardships and come out the other side stronger, wiser, and more experienced. Then there is the scum of the earth. They will take any opportunity to steal, kill, and hurt others while they try and make it out unscathed.

For Rick, he wanted you to be part of the former. He always saw your potential to become a fighter—a survivor. Hell, you made it this long by yourself, after all. You had to learn and adapt to the world.

And given your age, it was a hard thing to accomplish.

Your innocence didn't help, either. On one hand, he wanted to keep you as innocent and childlike as possible for as long as he could. The world was already a shit-show. The least you could do was still have the mentality of the child you were supposed to be. Being only ten years old, it was the right thing to do.

But then he remembers what the world was like now. If he let you live with that naivety, it'd get you killed. And it didn’t matter how intelligent you were because even if it saved your ass a few times, it won’t forever.

The fact of the matter is you were going to be hurt no matter what. And you had to be prepared for it.

He had already shown his own son, Carl, the harshness of the new world. He didn't want to do it, but the world left him no choice. And he couldn't deny the boy the means to defend himself and his family.

And even if you weren’t his kid, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t do the same for you.

He just needed the right time to teach you… to remind you that Alexandria isn’t the safest place on the planet.

The perfect time came when the Wolves attacked the group, and the gates were broken down.

After all the tragedy and loss, and Alexandria started to rebuild and strengthen their walls once again, Rick decided then was the time to toughen you up.

And thus, there you were, sitting on a tree stump as Rick stood in front of you, knife in hand, and Daryl beside him.

Eugene was also there, but he was standing to the side, watching with mild curiosity.

“You sure ‘bout this?” Daryl asked, looking from you to Rick, brows furrowed in concern. “It’s good takin' 'em outside the walls, but now? After everything that just happened, I mean? The people need yah right now, man. And the last thing we need is for the lil' squirt here to get hurt, too. Yer already lookin' rough as it is."

"I'll be fine, Daryl," Rick replied, his eyes not leaving yours. “Besides, I won’t be gone long. It’s just a quick look around. In and out, and then I'll be back. Two days, tops.”

Everyone around you seemed to be on edge, with the attack on the walls still fresh in their minds. But you?

Well, you were too busy staring at the shiny, shiny knife. Excitement shone in your eyes as your fingers twitched.

Truth be told, ever since Daryl and Aaron found you alone, wandering the woods and eating raw squirrel, and brought you to Alexandria, you felt as if something was missing.

You had never been the most social kid. You had the bare minimum amount of friends at school. None of them stuck around after you were pulled out of school. You had no close relatives that wanted you around. No father figure and the only motherly presence in your life was gone before you understood the new reality.

And while there were other kids in Alexandria, the older ones were already too busy trying to act like adults, and the younger ones were too immature. Sam, the kid that had once been closest to your age, was just a crybaby who didn’t know any better. He was scared of the dark and the idea of a walker. He never went outside the walls, so it was no wonder.

It was like living in a house full of strangers. They were all kind to you, but there was something missing.

But the Grimes family? Well, you couldn't help but feel more comfortable around them. Carl didn’t seem to like you, at least not at first, but ever since the “Wolves” attack and sudden loss of his eye, he was becoming nicer.

And then there was Rick. He was always kind, but after the incident, he became even kinder. More attentive and caring. Always checking on you, making sure you were safe and comfortable. Something about that night must've really changed him because he's been different since then.

And you liked it. You felt more comfortable around him. You didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was because he had saved you from a walker, or perhaps it was the way he talked to you, but you enjoyed his company.

You also loved destroying him in Gin Rummy. With the mix of his shocked expression and Michonne’s laughter, it was priceless.

Rick looked back at Daryl, who was still giving him a doubtful expression. But it wasn’t a no. So, Rick took it as a sign of agreement.

Daryl huffed and put a hand on his hip, shifting his weight to his right side. "Alright, alright. But if somethin' goes wrong, I won’t hesitate to tell ya I told ya so, yah hear me?”

Rick snorted. "Wouldn’t expect any less from you."

Daryl rolled his eyes and shook his head, a smirk on his lips. He gave you one more glance, and then he turned and left.

With that out of the way, Rick focused on the task at hand. That’s when Eugene made his presence known. He was the man with the map, so to speak.

He came over and laid the map of the area on the ground in front of you.

"I've marked the areas of the woods I believe would be best suited for your scavenging mission. However, should your route take a turn, there are several alternate routes to get back. There are also a few marked areas with potential food sources, water, and the possibility of tools or other survival necessities.

"Thank you, Eugene. I appreciate this," Rick said, putting a hand on the man's shoulder. Eugene smiled and nodded.

"You're welcome, sir. Now, if you'll excuse me, Rosita and I have an appointment at the gate to inspect and repair the damaged panels.” Eugene stood up and straightened his clothes, and then he was gone, heading back to the gate.

"Ready?" Rick asked. You looked up at him, smiling, and gave a nod. Soon, you were off into the rusty car that Daryl had brought from outside the walls.

You sat in the back seat, along with the bags semi-full of supplies and some extra weapons. Most of them belonged to Rick, however, so all you had was your old baseball cap.

And, of course, the old switchblade that Daryl gave you a while back.

For most of the scavenge trip, it was peaceful. The occasional walker showed up here and there, but for the most part, they were few and far between.

You found a lot of supplies. Food, medicine, clothes, and anything else you could think of. Rick also made sure to teach you how to pick locks, avoid traps, and a bunch of other skills.

But, of course, as things go, something has to go wrong.

A group of walkers, about twenty or so, showed up. It was no big deal. It was a lot, but nothing you couldn't handle.

You and Rick quickly got to work, taking them out one by one. You had gotten good with your knife, and with some pointers from Rick, you were practically a pro.

And then there was Rick, swinging his machete, stabbing and slashing his way through the herd. His face was a mix of focus and calm. It was impressive.

But the problem wasn’t the walkers. You were both doing fine. The problem was the aftermath. When the last walker fell to your feet, a gun rose and pointed at Rick's head.

And the guy holding the gun? Well, he looked like a psychopath. He had a smile that sent shivers down your spine, and it didn't help that the sun was starting to set.

"Hey there. Nice work taking out those rotters. But I'm going to have to ask you to hand over the bags and all the weapons you have. Oh, and I love that baseball cap. That'll be mine, too."

Well, Rick wanted you to toughen up. It seemed the universe had the same idea.

Somehow, you ended up behind Rick, shielded from the man and his gun. Your heart was pounding in your ears as the adrenaline kicked in. You didn't know what to do.

Rick didn't, either. Not when a group of armed men stepped out of the trees and aimed their guns at him. He didn't even have the time to reach for his machete.

Rick raised his hands, but his body was tense.

"Don't," was the only thing he said. His voice was stern, a growl hidden underneath. The man grinned and laughed.

"Oh, I'm gonna have fun with you," the man sneered.

Suddenly, all of them charged forward, grabbing the two of you. Your cap was taken, and Rick's machete was tossed away.

Despite the stronghold, Rick was able to kick and punch his way through his attackers. Even with the gun being pointed at him and the man pulling the trigger, he still managed to dodge the bullet and throw a few more punches.

The man growled, but the smile didn't leave his face.

"Feisty, aren't you? I love a challenge."

With a flick of his wrist, he knocked the butt of the gun against Rick's temple, sending him to the ground.

"Rick!" You yelled but were cut off when someone grabbed you by the hair and pulled, eliciting a scream from you.

"What a cutie," the man purred, grabbing you by the chin. You tried to pull away, but he held tight.

"How old are you, huh? Six? Seven? Eh, it doesn't matter. All kids are the same. Little shits who don't know their place."

You took that as a sign. You spat in his face. He didn't even flinch. In fact, the smile only widened. It pissed you off so much that you did the one thing that would definitely take a smile off his face.

You saw it done once, with a foot. A woman back in Alexandria seemed upset with a man, and she took her boot and kicked him right where you aimed your switchblade.

You weren't sure if it was a good idea, but it was the only thing you could think of.

So you did. And let me tell you, that was one of the few times you had ever heard someone scream so loud. He dropped you in an instant, unfortunately taking the knife with him.

“Son of a-!! You little-!!” Pain and anger laced the man's words as he clutched himself. You scrambled back, watching with wide eyes as he slowly recovered.

He didn’t dare try to crawl over to you, though. He didn’t trust his body to move.

Instead, he turned his attention to his side, where his small pistol had been tossed. He reached over and picked it up, pointing the barrel in your direction.

“I was gonna be nice… maybe have a little fun, but now?” He let out a painful chuckle. The smile was still there, but it was laced with anger. He groaned in pain, and his body shook.

Still, his hands remained steady.

"You little shit. I outta blow your head off. Let the rotters tear you apart, limb from limb. Would serve you right.”

Rick's heart stopped at that. The gun was aimed at you, and he was too far away. Even if he charged, he wouldn't make it in time.

There was no other option.

Just as the man squinted his eyes, about to pull the trigger, the sound of a gunshot rang through the air. It made the man jump and look around, right in time to see one of his men fall to the ground.

"What the-?"

You turned and saw Rick tussling with another man, the one holding a gun, who was fighting for control.

The man who had his gun pointed at you took the opportunity to shoot it again, but you were prepared enough to duck out of the way.

The bullet went into a tree, and by the time the next one fired, he was the last one standing.

And boy, was he pissed. The bullet once again missed his target, but only barely.

That was enough, though. Just enough to get Rick to kick the gun out of his hands before pressing his boot right where your pocket knife was still sticking out.

Rick had the advantage, and it was obvious, with the screams of agony coming from the man. He was on his knees, clutching his crotch, and Rick had a firm hand on the back of his head, ready to bash his skull into the ground if need be.

But he didn't. He had other plans.

He pulled out your knife, only to stick it right back into place and then some.

"Ah! You crazy bas-!! Fuck!!"

"You’re going to listen to me. Real good, you’ hear?” Rick’s voice was dark, and the man nodded frantically.

"Grab his gun and come over here."

You did as you were told, picking up the pistol and slowly walking over. The man whimpered, tears staining his cheeks as blood seeped through his pants.

"You're gonna stand there and keep your gun pointed at his head while I tie his hands together. If he even twitches, shoot him."

You gulped but nodded. You kept your arms out, hands as steady as you could make them.

“You sick, twisted, fuckin' asshole. I'll fucking kill you!" The man snarled, his teeth gritting and his face contorted in pain.

"That's cute," Rick said. He was quick to tie the man's wrists together. Rick was just as quick to grab him and force him on his feet before kicking the back of his knees and sending him sprawling on the ground.

"Stay," Rick commanded him like a dog, and you couldn't help but smile a little at the man's pained, angry expression.

Rick quickly gathered the supplies and the bag, and then he was over to you, giving you a once-over.

"You hurt? Bleeding? Anything broken?"

"N-No, I'm okay," you replied, voice wavering a bit.

"Good," he breathed out, and you noticed he was shaking a bit, too. Not enough to notice at first glance, but enough to know that he was trying his hardest not to.

He took the gun from your hands gingerly, and then he was kneeling before the man.

"Who are you?"

The man was silent. Rick didn't wait long before aiming the gun at the man's right thigh.

"Let me rephrase that. Who are you? What's your name?"

"Fuck y—”

Rick shot the man in the thigh without any hesitation. The scream of pain made you jump.

"Try again. Who are you?"

"Aah!! Fuck!! I-I'm Dave, okay? My name's Dave!"

"Okay, Dave. Good. Now, why did you attack us? And don't think I'm above shooting you again, or worse, so be honest. I can tell when someone's lying to me."

"We were just passing through! Saw you and thought, 'Hey, easy pickings!' Didn't expect you to be the goddamn terminator!"

"Passing through to where?"

Silence. Rick sighed and shook his head, but before he could fire another shot, Dave finally caved.

"Back to c-camp. Please, we have family. Wives, children… We meant nothin' by it! We swear! We just-! We were hungry. We were starving! Please, have mercy!"

"Children? Like the one you just threatened to shoot in the head?" Rick growled. Dave flinched.

"N-no, I-"

“Where are they? Down that stream? I saw your tracks earlier. That was you, wasn’t it?"

Dave's silence spoke volumes. Rick looked back at you, and you were staring at the man, wide-eyed and fearful, not of him specifically, but of what Rick could do to him.

Rick took a deep breath and then turned back to Dave.

"How many are there?"

"T-Ten. Maybe eleven."

"Are they armed?"

"J-Just with knives and stuff."

"You got anything else? Any other guns or ammo?"

"N-No. Please, just let us go! We won't bother you again! Just don't hurt me."

Rick looked back at you again. Your eyes were still locked on the man, but you could feel his gaze. You looked up at him.

"With that stunt, you just pulled,” Rick stood up, his eyes still aligned with yours, but he wasn’t speaking to you. He was addressing Dave.

"I can’t take that chance.”

Then the bullet fired, and soon it was just you and Rick with a bunch of corpses.

He quickly holstered the gun and rushed to bags left on the ground.

"What about his family?” Your voice was shaken. You had never seen someone shot like that, point blank.

Rick sighed, pausing in his movements.

"They don’t exist.” Rick stood and turned, looking you in the eye. “I know people like him. If he had a family, they're already dead, or he killed them himself.”

You didn’t break eye contact, “and if you’re wrong? What then?"

Rick didn’t even blink. "Then I saved them a lot of suffering."

Rick didn't like doing this, killing people, taking life. He hated it, really.

But he would be damned if anyone ever laid a hand on his family or his people. Even if it meant getting a little bloody.

You had to turn away from him, from the intensity of his stare.

Rick sighed and walked over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"You did good back there. Really good. The world it’s… It ain't kind to people. And even though I hope it never happens, you have to be prepared for anything. For anyone."

Rick squeezed your shoulder, and his voice was gentle.

"And, for what it's worth, I'm proud of you."

[marauders-bs]

Wolfstar microfic, meet-cute, for my friend vitori 💖

Remus's first words to Sirius were "What the fuck", and it will always be Sirius's favorite story to tell.

Well, he didn't say it at Sirius, and he didn't intend for anyone to hear it.

Remus had stumbled into the least full carriage in the Hogwarts Express, full of Snape and Lily and Sirius, but not James or Peter. Yet.

Even as an eleven year old dumbass, Remus knew how to spot a pretentious asshole, and he saw it in Snape.

He had sighed, rolled his eyes, and muttered "What the fuck".

Sirius was the only one who heard it. He'd been surprised at first, clearly, because Remus was eleven. He'd gotten over it fast and doubled over with laughter, and Remus was gone. Gone for that sharp, mean-sounding, barklike laugh and the sunny blue eyes that looked almost evil.

Remus's actual first words to Sirius were "What's your problem?". It had only made him laugh harder.

[slayingqueenchal]

Got a thing for my sister, moony? | remus lupin x f!black!reader

Summary : sirius notices that when it's close to the full moon remus is an asshole but when it comes to y/n he's an absolute sweet heart

Warning : one year age gap (youre regulus's twin sis), Gryffindor reader (i hope that still makes u interested), pet names like 'love, sweet heart, darling', fluff

It was... Sirius figured it out. When remus told him about his so called lopsided hair

"Padfoot, your hair looks lopsided today" Remus said, his left hand on his chin and his right hand pointing on sirius's hair.

When you heard that, you chocked on your drink. I mean it's true, you agreed with remus, his hair does look lopsided. "Mhm, top tier comedy isn't it sis? " Said sirius sarcastically.

The other boys laughed but, remus looked concerned. You were ready for his insults to you, cause full moons in a few day.

"You alright, darling? " Said remus. Suddenly it was sirius's time to chocke on his water. "What the hell did you call my sister".

"Darling, you have a problem with that, padfoot" Said remus confidently. "Geez, almost got me a concussion" Sirius said, taking another sip of water.

Or when sirius, James and Peter found you and remus together in the library.

"What does this all mean im gonna go insane" you said. Defense against the dark arts is your least favorite subjects.

"Hey, hey, it's alright sweetheart, we can take a break, you know, I brought snacks" Remus smiled brightly.

"Really, what snacks? " You asked. "You know, the toast that you call moony toast, that one" He put it on the table. "And you made two! " You smiled.

"Yes, one for me, and one for you, of course i can't forget to make you one" Remus grinned, taking one piece of his toast and ate it.

And when you five sneaked to the astronomy towers to plan some pranks

"What should we do, to snivellus house Slytherin" James walked around the astronomy tower. "Maybe we could put nifflers in the Slytherins common room? " You said.

The boys said it was a good idea but, Remus called you "love, y/n, come". " Yeah, what is it, rem? " You sat next to him, his hands on your back.

"Look at that, that's a shooting star, what are you gonna wish for? " He said, pointing at the moving star.

"Hm, I want us to be friends forever, you and me, always, forever" You looked at the stars, and Remus, then the stars.

"Well, love, I want more than that" Remus said.

That's when Sirius snapped out of it. He realized what remus ment was not oh 'I want more than that like money,or something else's but it was 'I want to be more than friend's.

That evening, Sirius walked to the hospital wing, to see Remus.

"Where's y/n? " Sirius asked. "Oh, she just left, I told her to, she looks tired" Remus said, the pain in his eyes were still visible even though it was hours after the full moon.

"I need to talk to you" Sirius grabbed a stool, sitting closely to remus. "I know you fancy my sister, it's obvious! The way you look at her, the way you're a complete gentleman towards her, bloody hell you like my sister"

Remus's face looks like the moon had come early, "n-no", " Oh dont deny it, moons, I'm fine with it! " Sirius smiled.

"Okay, Sirius, i- I don't just like your sister, I fell for her--the way she acts, her beautiful hair, her pretty face, her soothing voice, and she's everything to me! But you'll hate me for falling in love with her"

"Seriously Remus? Gosh it's obvious that you love her, I mean go for it, ask her out, or something" Sirius smiled.

"Really? " Remus smiled, and Sirius nodded.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

gif by @r66dus

RJ: Is Santa the only person with a naughty and nice list?

Carol, setting the table: I suppose so.

RJ, beaming: Yay! Uncle Daryl is Santa!

Y/N, chuckling: Why do you say that, RJ?

RJ: Cause he was telling you what a bad girl you’ve been last night!

Y/N: …

Daryl: …

Y/N: ……..

Daryl: …….

Carol, trying to speak through laughter: This is the best gift ever.

💚Happy Holidays❤️

[one-of-thewalkingdead]

We need to bring back the whole "if daryl dies we riot" thing because I stg if they kept him alive all 11 seasons just to kill him off in his own spin off I'm suing someone for emotional damages.

[perfectlypreservedpie]

MacCready Fanfiction Recs (Fallout 4)

hey everybody, nobody asked for this but in the midst of writing fallout fanfic I was feeling a special kind of love for my favorite fo4 fanfics and wanted to recommend them in case you hadn't read 'em. Because they are VERY GOOD and writing fanfic is hard, so you gotta give props to those who sweat for your comfort fics.

I'm gonna recommend my top three finished fanfics, and then two more bonus fics that are being updated rn. As a clarifier, these are all Maccready fallout 4 fics. so. keep that in mind.

im tagging the authors and also anybody who wants to join and share their favorites too!

3. THE FATHER(S) AND THE SON(S) on ao3 by @sirmanmister

I'm going to preface this rec by saying this: there is Fanon MacCready. There is canon MacCready. And then there is ascended!whatBethesdawishesitWAS MacCready, which exists solely in this fanfiction. The characterization of Mac is so well written. He is snarky, he is vulnerable. He desperately wants to grow up but doesn't know how. He has the most sick character arc in this story!!!

It's not a romance but instead a coming of age story where the sole survivor becomes a de-facto parent to Mac. The heart of the story is about how to raise a child while you're still trying to grow up yourself. The apocalypse setting lends itself well because the Wasteland is a place where NOTHING is beautiful, but the way that M!Sosu and MacCready care for their sons is beautiful. Which makes it special and worth fighting for.

As a fun fact, I read The Road by Cormac McCarthy for class a week after finishing this fic and I was thinking about this fic the whole time because the themes of fatherhood during an apocalypse hit a lot of the same beats. Maybe my professor would kick me in the teeth by comparing fic to McCarthy, but @sirmanmister YOU ARE MY CORMAC MCCARTHY <3

2. WORKING CLASS HERO on ao3 by @bluegrasskitty

This is the kind of fic you take with you to toilet, to work, in-between classes. It will suck you in. AND THERE'S A SEQUEL TOO YOU GUYS‼️

The sole survivor in this story is the model for the Nuka Cola girl. You know the hot lady in the spacesuit? SHE HAS A BACKSTORY. AND YALL IT MADE ME WEEP. During some point of the story, I sort of stopped rooting for MacCready to be the narrator and just wanted Nora Cabot to take the reins. When I tell you I think of this oc every two to three business weeks. She's an incredible leading lady. I can't look at Nuka Girl posters in the game without thinking of Nora Cabot, my beloved.

the sequel IS SO FIRE. It's the best reimagining of 'what happened after the institute blew up' that I've ever read. im gnawing at the bars of my enclosure actually.

A VERY GOOD PLOT TWIST I CANNOT MENTION TO NEW READERS BUT IF YOU'VE READ IT YOU'LL UNDERSTAND. AND IF YOU UNDERSTAND DM ME I HAVE TO TALK TO SOMEBODY ABOUT IT. HHh.

The amount of world building that @bluegrasskitty puts into this story is insane. They ARE Beth Esda.

As a fun fact, I didn't know that radchickens were canon in fallout. I thought it was a plot device made up by this author to excuse the ability to make cake in this book, but radchickens ARE real. When I was playing Far Harbor last year, I found radchickens and thought that @bluegrasskitty manifested them into existence because they had that kind of power.

that being said, I still think this author has that kind of power.

1. Atom Bomb Baby on ao3 by @starlightwrites

I think you dropped something....my jaw.

fellas. fellas. this is my comfort fic. You ever had a comfort fic? Something you come back to at least once a year to reread to feel something? the fiction equivalent of chicken noodle soup? this is what Atom Bomb Baby is to me. this is peak literature actually. if I ever figure out book binding, im doing this one first.

Plot wise, it's a retelling of Fallout 4's main story through the perspective of MacCready. But (and im wheezing as I say this) it's also so much more THAN THAT.

this fic author understands that MacCready is not a womanizer but is in fact a touch starved loser. and they are CORRECT.

MacCready spends the entire fic like 'uuuhhhh I dunno about this one, boss!'

ITS BEST FRIENDS TO LOVERS RAHHHHHH

it also has a nostalgia feel to me too, because reading it gives me the same feeling as what it was like to play the game for the first time, years ago. maybe it's because I've read it so many times over the years, but reading it feels so satisfying.

The author spends 10 chapters at the end solely dedicated to an epilogue. I wish more stories did this. They go through the wringer in this story, and it's so deeply satisfying to see how cleanly everything gets wrapped up. MacCready and the Lola work really well together as a couple, so it's awesome to see how they work together after the battle is done.

6 out of 5 stars.

BONUS FICS !! aka fics that are still updating! I squeal with joy when I get an ao3 email about these: 1. Best Laid Plans on ao3 by @druidgroves - Georgia Tate is an incredible character and sole survivor! She was a teacher prewar, so it's really fun to get her perspective on the world. She cares a lot about education and libraries and I find her really relatable and endearing. It's a cool thing for a character in an apocalypse to care about! It also makes for fun tension with Mac, who's written as a pragmatic survivor. A great take on familiar characters and their dynamics. - And It's a great slow burn! I'm really enjoying reading it. 2. Long Time Running on ao3 by @twosides--samecoin - If you've ever thought that Med-Tek was too convenient an option for Duncan's cure, this fic was written with you in mind. - RJ goes to Canada and im obsessed with it. - If you're interested in fallout lore, specifically the bit where the U.S annexed Canada and wished that there was more info about that, I would highly recommend this fic. Twosides--samecoin put in THE WORK. The world building they do to explain Canada's side of the Great War is so fun!!! its genuinely such a thrill to read!

I'm tagging the authors who I mentioned, if you all have favorite fics (fallout or otherwise, I'd love to hear em!) Thank you for making good art!

[thebluemoonjune]

New Beginnings (Richonne One-shot)

A pregnant Michonne is ready to welcome the new year with her family, Rick, Carl and Judith. She is thankful to where they have reached and hopeful for better days ahead. A New Year's Richonne oneshot. No saviour arc, no Negan.

A joyful new year always began with the sharing of meals and desserts that spoke to people's spirits. Additionally, we shared them with family and friends, demonstrating that our blessings were also theirs.

They called for a home to belong to a community, comfort, food, and safe water. They both required a secure haven for their well-being and for their existence to have meaning: a utopia rather than hell on earth. They owed it to each other and their precious children to fight back against an entity that could devastate everything, that turned friend against friend and separated them in innumerable ways. They were a family and a team that were prepared for the future and now that they had it, they'd protect it. A new year.

A new life does not begin with a gift wrapped in colourful bows and the promise of security, but rather as a path through the unknown with a degree of fog and frost. As a result, it requires a determined heart to seize it, daring feet to traverse it, and a brave sight to remain alert to its curves along with its peaks and valleys. If there were any other way, people would not live such lacking lives from birth to death. To achieve more, one must accept the feeling of danger and risk as one strives for the far distance. The world at large had been devastated and transformed. It had fewer people in it. So many people perished, yet it didn't stop life from going on. As she watched Judith play with Gracey, Michonne stroked her full-term stomach. One day at a time—that's how they took it.

“Did you get the black eye bean?”

“Yep. Now you ain’t gotta rip my head off for it.”

“I’m not that bad!” Michonne watched her husband tilt his head to the side, eyebrows raised to the sky. “Okay, maybe a little, but just a little… My mom used to cook on New Year's for good luck… I want us to start our new year right.”

“Carl always hated beans—beans of any kind.”

“Well, he eating it today. Judith too. No one and I mean no one, is getting off.”

“Yes, ma'am!” He chuckled at her. “You know, you never talked about your mom much, or both your folks for that matter.”

“I never realised…”

“Is it painful?” The couple stared at each other till Michonne broke the silence.

"No, not anymore… My mother was upbeat, opinionated, and the ultimate decider of everyone's life journey... Like any good army drill sergeant, she planned what to do, the schooling, and the fun that followed. Did I ever mention that I was homeschooled?"

"No."

“I was… till I was eleven years old.”

"I could see that. She was a drill sergeant?"

"No, but she acted like one." Michonne laughed, stoking her stomach, before cracking a weary smile. "She was actually a writer; children's books... Strange, huh?"

"Nah... makes perfect sense..." His eyes softened. "She made you."

“I can’t tell if that’s a compliment, Rick…”

“It’s a compliment.” He couldn't take his sight off her.

"I hear you… My father did nothing but work: work at his job, work on the house and work on getting enough sleep so he didn't fall asleep on the way to his firm. He inspired me to become a lawyer. He would sometimes grin or laugh, and when he did, the world brightened for those brief minutes. Then he'd fall back into his whirlpool of worry."

“He sounded a lot like my old man.”

“He probably was… They were good parents—not perfect but good enough. That’s all they can hope—that we can hope.”

“We’re doin' fine and we’re gonna do a whole lot better.”

“Alright, whatever you say, old man. Don’t you have to help, Daryl? Don’t keep him waiting.”

“I can cancel, stay with you… Ain’t no big deal.” Pulling her closer, he planted a longing kiss on her lips, causing her to giggle when he finally broke away.

“No, you go. I just have the peas left. By that time, you should be all done and you can fetch Carl from Edith and Judy from terrorising Hershel and Gracey.”

“Soon she’ll have someone else to nag… You sure you’re right? You been out of it since yesterday.”

“I’m fine, Rick you worry too much… They’ll be here soon, any day now. It’s normal.”

“I never thought this would happen again, for us.”

“We deserve it, Rick... A new beginning, as you said… Now go.” Rick planted a kiss on her forehead, then her belly, before she turned from him to continue the preparation of their celebration meal.

“If anything happens, send for me. I’ll come to you as soon as possible, Okay?”

“Go! I send for you.”

Regardless of his wife's words, he couldn’t help but stall and linger at the kitchen exit. She was late in her pregnancy and he wanted to treasure every second till the baby arrived. He was thirsting to be by her side. They never expected to ever have this. He never thought she’d allow herself the chance after all that had happened in the past. However, she gave him one and gave their family one as well. After being hit with a side eye, he managed to make his way to Daryl. When they completed their duty at hand, he fetched Carl and Judith to go home.

…

The family of four placed themselves in their seats for lunch after Michonne snatched Carl to help her set the dining table. Rick took Judith into his lap, knowing that he’d have to feed her since she was even more picky than Carl.

“Since we're here, I think we should say what we’re thankful for… and our hope for the future.” Michonne’s eyes never left her boys for one second. “ Carl?”

“I just want things to be the same as always and I’m thankful we’re all here.”

“Me too, Son.” Grinning at Carl’s answer, Rick leaned over to rub his head.

“Did you say ‘me too’ to not come up with something different, Grimes?”

"Maybe, but I mean it. You know that.”

“Well, I know that… I’m thankful that I found you. I’m thankful for getting me out that day, even if you were an asshole afterwards.”

“In my defence, I didn’t know you well yet, and I still kept you around when I sent the others away. That’s gotta count for somethin', right? After all, we were the same.”

“You didn’t know or trust me, but that didn’t stop you from checking me out, did it?” 

“You noticed that?”

“Judith and I are still here, you know?” They both crackled at their son’s embarrassed distaste for the current topic but kept going.

“You not kicking me out is part of the reason I put up with your behaviour.” Rick sighed at her pettiness. “Us being the same and me longing to stay with you guys is another part as well, though I didn’t realise that last part just yet... Carl?”

“Yeah?”

“You and Judybug saved me. You don’t know how much you two did. Thank you for making me one of you and thank you for being my best friend and not letting me chicken out… You gave me a second chance, all three of you and I love you so much for it… What I want is all of you safe and sound and happy, and by my side. The baby included, of course. Thank you for giving me back my family.”

Her eyes welled up with tears of unfathomable affection. The happiness dripped from her eyes and they were soon all overcome with shared emotion. It was such a warm, heart-gripping moment, only disrupted by Michonne's booming grunt of pain. At that moment, she came to face the fact that she’d been having contractions all day. Part of her was in denial, only being focused on celebrating New Year's the right way with her family. She stood up, grabbing the tablecloth, and Rick understood immediately. He knew she was acting weird.

"Carl, go grab Siddiq!”

“It’s happening now?”

“Yeah! Go!”

…

Childbirth has always been risky. It makes little difference that it is natural. It is also quite natural for a mother or baby to die. That is why they had made so much progress in medicine for safe childbirth. Michonne and the infant were in far more danger now that the world had changed. Rick became aware of a massive natural birth occurring at his feet. It had struck him, just now. Panicked and fearful, he still stayed by her side. It was his job as a father and a husband. No matter how hard it was on him mentally, she was having it a thousand times worse. She was the one in pain; she was the one in danger. He sat behind her and supported her back with every push, encouraging her whenever she began to falter.

“Rick!” She cried out in search of unconscious comfort for her partner-in-crime.

“I’m here, darlin'; I’m right here! You’re doing great!”

“Why did I think this would be easier the second time around?”

“Because you’re amazing; that’s why! You’re doin’ great!”

They traverse till the drawing of beautiful angel breath, serenaded by freedom. A sign of their baby's existence.

…

A happy new year was partly about starting again and partly about being grateful for all the blessings that had been granted the previous year. It was a warm welcome to new fortunes and the courage to confront problems gracefully and compassionately. Rick stared at his family as their attention fell to the newest member; his son from his departed first wife and his adopted daughter. They had fought so hard and lost so much to ensure they made it. reminding him of the bad, his mind ran to his dear, long gone friend Hershel, and his words to him,

 'Things break, but they can still grow. These little bristles, they'll take root,'.  

His wife was spent but she still held a peaceful smile on her face, gawking at their son swaddled in her arms, the first biological child between the two of them. Judith slipped her finger into his outstretched palm and watched as the tiny body curled around it. His gentle breath touched the back of her hand. Her playful day already slipping away as she observed her new brother.

Rick was going to speak again when Carl spoke first.

“We can’t use fireworks to celebrate but we do have the sparklers! It’ll be nice just to have something, right, Judy?”

“Yeahhh!”

“Alright, you two go now. I’ll keep Michonne and the baby company.”

Carl took Judith after she planted a kiss on her new baby brother and off they went. Michonne, feeling her husband’s eyes on her, allows their gazes to meet. They both knew this was what they struggled and fought so hard for. It wouldn’t be easy but year after year, he would make sure his children—all three of them—lived the best life, a full life. Michonne stretched out her hand.

“Rick…” Her words were weary and had a dream-like quality to them, as she seemed to crave the solace of rest, the enticement of the nice bed beckoned to her tired body.

“Darlin, what's wrong? Uncomfortable? Tell me, I’ll get it…” She shook her head, confusing him.

“His name; I have it.”

“Yeah?” His tone was gentle as he lowered his body next to her and she placed their newborn in his arms. “What is it?"

“RJ. Richard Daniel Grimes Junior... Do you like it?”

“I grateful…” Rick's eyes grew damp. He didn’t expect her to name their little boy after him. “You sure?”

“I’m sure… He’ll be as smart, sweet and determined just like his namesake… Just like his dad.”

“Thank you.” Bending over, as he kissed her forehead and whispered into her ear.

“No, thank you.” 

[fictionalmenxyn]

Social media au, outer banks x RJ

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 4,942 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female!Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: S10, The Reapers Warnings: language, violence, gore, angst A/N: This is Part 4 of a series! Find all the parts on my pinned post, the Master List Summary: Daryl helps Y/N and DJ get settled in Alexandria.

Part 3

You walked beside Daryl, a teary smile on your face as you looked ahead at Judith and RJ running and playing with Dog. “It seems impossible that this little girl is the same chubby baby I fed pureed carrots to,” you laughed. “And RJ... They’re beautiful, Daryl.”

“Yeah. They are.” The softness on Daryl’s face was threatening to melt you into a puddle. His eyes turned to DJ next, and that softness remained.

You met his blue eyes again and your lips were drawn down in a soft pout. Tears brimmed in your eyes. “I’m so sorry,” you said. “About Rick. And now Michonne’s gone off… Maggie told me.”

“Yeah,” Daryl drawled, ducking his head and fighting the tidal wave of anxiety and grief and hopelessness that always crested in his chest when he thought of his lost brother. “‘M sorry too. Mostly for them,” he said, nudging his head toward the kids again. “But it’s been hard on everybody…”

“Including you, I’m sure.” Tears burned in your eyes again and you did your best to blink them away. Rick and Michonne were family, and you had hoped to reunite with them again too as soon as you’d found Maggie. The news about much of your old family had been hard to take, especially after losing everyone else at your community so recently. But you knew how deep and unhealing that wound must be for Daryl, losing a true brother…

Daryl hummed a response but you let the topic drop for now.

Alexandria was certainly left worse for wear since the Whisperers had briefly occupied it with their horde. Daryl cast a sideways glance at you as if worried about your reaction to the destruction and mess you were now walking through.

“Ain’t usually like this… ya just arrived at the end of a full-on war,” he said.

Far from seeing concern or judgement on your face, Daryl noted that you seemed to be seeing it with eyes that picked out the potential. He felt another swell of warmth for you. “If it’s home for you, then it’ll be home for us too,” you said. “And I’ll be more than happy to help however I can with the rebuilding.”

Home. It was true that Alexandria was home, and he would die to defend it and the people in it, but there was another home that he’d lost a long time ago, and it was now walking beside him… Then, he suddenly remembered what Carol had said to him at the wall. “Please tell me you aren’t going to stick them in some random empty apartment or house.” His feet must have faltered because you turned and glanced over at him immediately.

“Everything okay?”

“Uhh—yeah… I just—” he chewed anxiously on his bottom lip for a moment, and you nearly smiled. It was the same nervous habit he’d always had. “I was thinkin’, if you and DJ wanted to… I mean, ya could stay at my place. I’ve got a spare bedroom—s’where Jude and RJ usually sleep when I’ve got ‘em, but that ain’t no big deal. I can make ‘em up bedrolls on the floor in my room if they’re stayin’ or—” he was rambling nervously, “—if ya ain’t comfortable with that, I mean, stayin’ at my place, we’ve got plenty of other apartments and houses. We could set ya up somewhere else—I just thought, with DJ, might be easier—and maybe would be, I dunno, would be—"

“Daryl—” You stopped him with a hand gentle on his arm. “Of course we’d love to stay with you, if you’re okay with the extra trouble.”

He gulped. The last fucking thing he wanted now was to be parted from you and DJ, even if it was just by half a block. “Ain’t no extra trouble,” he drawled quietly, slightly transfixed from the touch of your hand on his arm.

You laughed. “You say that now… but you may have forgotten over the last decade, I can be a handful,” you joked. “And DJ? He takes after his dad in some ways.”

Daryl let out an amused exhale and shook his head. “Poor kid,” he joked, but you shot him a look.

“Lucky kid,” you corrected him. God, he’d missed that. You had always been so affirming to him. You had unwavering confidence in him and you told him and showed him every damn day. His internal monologue was often so dark, especially lately with things all seeming to go wrong. But you had always shown a light on him, always told him so earnestly that he was good and loved even when he didn’t believe it or didn’t feel he deserved it himself. He felt a swell of gratitude and emotion and fought against what felt like a huge bubble in his chest that was getting ready to burst. Your voice interrupted him.

“So. Which way is home?” You were looking at him expectantly.

“Uhh, this way,” he murmured, tilting his head toward the next street over. He let out a loud whistle and Dog turned and came rushing back. “Hey—Jude, RJ. Let’s go! We’re gonna help Y/N and DJ get settled, alright?”

“Uncle Daryl?” RJ said when he had trotted over, looking up with shining brown eyes.

“Yeah, bud?”

“I’m hungry,” he said.

Daryl ruffled a hand through his own hair a little anxiously. “Yeah… yeah, we’ll have to see ‘bout that in a bit. Let’s head home first and then I’ll figure that out, okay?”

You and Daryl exchanged a knowing glance. Keeping growing kids nourished was a constant worry.

“Mom?” DJ asked you softly. You looked down at him with a questioning look. He dug into his small bag and pulled out an apple. It was slightly bruised on one side, but shone bright red in the sun and seemed just as crisp as when you’d picked it for him a few days back. “Can I?” he asked. Your heart swelled and you nodded as you ran your fingers down one of the wavy strands of his brown hair.

“Of course. That’s a very kind thing to do,” you said proudly.

DJ trotted a few paces to catch up to RJ and then nudged him gently with his elbow, holding out the apple to him. RJ took it excitedly and thanked him with a broad smile. He took a huge bite and then offered it to Judith, who also happily shared it. Pretty soon the three of them were sharing it like old pals.

Daryl was smiling as he watched the exchanged. “That’s some kid ya’ve got,” he said softly.

“You mean that we’ve got,” you corrected him. “He’s your son, Daryl.”

Daryl gulped and looked down at you, his eyes still a little wide with disbelief. We. You’d said we. He wanted so desperately to read into that and allow his mind to run on with all his foolish hopes… He nudged his nose up in a shy nod and chewed on his bottom lip a moment. A son. He had a son.

The kids ran ahead, chasing after Dog and throwing a stick for him time and time again, until finally Daryl cleared his throat and nodded toward the nearest condo on the end of a small row. “This is me,” he said. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck nervously. “Yer place now too, if ya think it’ll work okay. And ya don’t mind a bit’a dog hair.” It was as if he needed to give you every opportunity to change your mind.

“DJ and I have been sleeping wherever I could find the smallest bit of shelter or safety for quite a while now. We moved every day. This is going to be a huge change for the better. Thank you.” You studied his expression again. “And I don’t mind the dog hair,” you laughed. Dog seemed to have heard you because he came and slipped through the space between your legs, stopping and leaning to one side, rubbing his body against your leg, looking up at you. You laughed and bent to give him neck scratches and he was soon licking your face.

“He likes ya,” Daryl said. There was a smile in his voice. He took that moment and allowed himself to take in the way the afternoon light was illuminating the hues in your eyes as you glanced back up at him and the shine in your hair. He felt like he’d been transported to some alternate dimension—he was so used to struggling to live every day without you and suddenly… here you were. Dog finally darted to the garage door, prancing anxiously on his front paws, and Daryl collected himself enough to go over and push it up. RJ and Judith raced in after Dog, but DJ waited back.

Your eyes went immediately to the bike parked there. “Oh my God,” you said, grinning. The light in your eyes now seemed to be sparking on his behalf as you strode over to it. You shot him a brilliant look and Daryl’s heart skipped a beat and then sped up. “This is amazing. Did you build this?” you asked, touching it here and there.

Daryl brushed a hand back through his hair and shrugged. “Yeah. Aaron, you’ll meet Aaron, he had been collectin’ parts for years before he brought our group in. He didn’t really know what to do with them. First damn thing I did after I was sure Alexandria was gonna be real, safe, was put ‘em to good use.”

DJ was looking at the bike with eager interest and excitement. “You built it? From scrap?” he asked again.

Daryl nudged his nose up in a nod. “Yep.”

“Can I have a ride?” he asked excitedly.

Daryl smiled. “Yeah. ‘Course. Uhh—as long as that’s okay with yer mom,” Daryl said, glancing your direction, resting a hand on the handlebar.

“Nobody safer to ride with,” you said, nodding. “As long as you wear a helmet, DJ. But not today. Maybe tomorrow, if the weather is good, alright?” DJ seemed satisfied with that and ran ahead into the condo after Judith and RJ. You glanced over at Daryl again and his eyes were already on you. He was wringing his hands a little anxiously. “Well, when do I get a ride from you again? It’s been a while. Maybe tonight?” Daryl’s mouth dropped slightly open and you laughed nervously when you realized the obvious innuendo. You felt your cheeks flushing. “The bike!” you said in a hurry. “I meant on—” you pressed a hand up to your face and ducked his gaze. Daryl was gulping nervously. “Jesus—I meant on the—” You sighed and laughed again, quite sure that your face was still bright red.

Daryl rubbed a hand over the back of his neck awkwardly, but he was also feeling a heat in his chest like you’d just struck flint and steel to tinder and he too let out a small, awkward laugh. Not to mention that intimate scenes he held dearly deep in his mind were suddenly rushing into the forefront like they’d been called. He could still feel the shape of your hip under his hand like it was just yesterday, or the softness of you as his fingertips dimpled into your skin… He could see the water cascading down your body as he pressed you back against the wall of the shower. He could hear your hurried breathing, the breathy way you used to say his name… The noises of pleasure he’d been able to pull from you. When he couldn’t sleep or when things were just too dark, he’d let his mind wander over those memories, but he had to limit himself. Otherwise, he would have run the risk of living entirely there in that daydream, forgetting the now, and then how would he have kept going, knowing it may be lost forever? And then suddenly you were made real in front of him again. Here. You were right here. Shit. Get it together, man. He refocused his attention on the expectant look on your face. “Uhh—lemme show ya inside,” he drawled.

You bit your bottom lip and followed him in. The kids were all piled on the couch, Dog in front of them, and your heart lifted to see DJ interacting with Jude and RJ so easily. There must have been a smile on your face because Daryl was looking at you with the corners of his eyes crinkled in one too.

“It’s been a long time since he’s been able to be around any other kids, before Hershel, I mean,” you said. The smile faded again and Daryl thought you looked suddenly veiled in sadness briefly.

“C’mon,” he said, tilting his head toward the small hallway. “Bathroom in there,” he said, passing the small room on the right. “Here’s the spare room,” he said. Out of habit he tried to flick on the light and then remembered that the Whisperers had trashed the solar panels and he flicked it back off. “Uhh… sorry. No power back up yet.”

“Haven’t had power in years,” you said. “Won’t even miss it.”

Daryl ruffled his fingers back through his hair again. “We’ll get it back up,” he said with certainty. “‘Til then I got plenty of candles and lanterns and stuff. Remind me before it gets dark. My room is just—” he pointed down the hall to the next door, “right there.”

You leaned on the doorframe next to him and looked in at the little room. A bed. A real bed. “Thanks for this.”

He ducked his head and nodded, shifting nervously beside you. “Yeah. S’nothin’. Dun need to thank me.”

There was a loud squeal from one of the kids and you both moved back to the main room. Dog had jumped on the couch with the three of them and was now laying fully across their laps. You hadn’t seen such a grin on DJ’s face in what felt like a lifetime. You glanced around the room, taking in the space and what Daryl had done to make it his. There were various antlers and pelts around, and the coffee table had a few old books on it, the top one about piracy. “Hmm,” you hummed.

“What?” he asked.

“Nice place you have here. It’s very Daryl,” you said, a small smile curving your lips. “It suits you. Though maybe a cabin in the woods would still suit you better.”

Daryl’s stomach suddenly clenched. A cabin in the woods. Fuck. He had to tell you. He had to figure out how the fuck to tell you…

“What do you think?” you asked him, and Daryl suddenly realized you must have been talking to him.

“Sorry, what?”

“Think the kids would be okay here on their own for a while so we can go try and find some food for everyone?”

He nodded quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, and we can ask Rosita and Gabe to look in on ‘em.”

Your face brightened. “Please, let’s go see Rosita.”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah, course. And—Gabriel ain’t the same anymore,” Daryl said. “He’s turned out to be real good to have around.”

You shook your head and let out a laugh of disbelief. “You remember what I said when he finally got down off that rock?”

Daryl snorted out a laugh and nodded. “Yeah. Ya asked if we could put him back.” You laughed again more earnestly.

“And—him and Rosita? Really? I mean, Maggie told me but it’s still hard to wrap my brain around…”

Daryl laughed again, fiddling anxiously with a rock on the side table. “I think that took all of us by surprise at first,” Daryl drawled. “But—” he shrugged. “They do seem to be doin’ good together. C’mon. Let’s get goin’ while we still got daylight.” He stepped farther into the room and managed to grab the kids’ attention. “Hey—Jude. Yer the oldest, so yer in charge, alrigh’? We’re just gonna go see about some dinner, okay? If we ain’t back when it’s startin’ to get dark, ya go to Aunt Rosita’s or find Uncle Jerry and Aunt Nabila at their place, okay? And keep away from that part of the wall tha’s down. I mean it. Ya can show DJ around, but I don’t want ya over there.”

Jude nodded and agreed. “Okay.”

“Dog, get down,” Daryl said, and the Malinois jumped back onto the rug. Daryl hugged Jude and ruffled RJ’s hair. Then he held a fist out to DJ, who eagerly bumped it with his own and grinned. Daryl knelt down so he was at their eye level again. “We’ll be back just as soon as we can, alrigh’? Ya’ll be good and stay safe. Jude, ya got yer sword? Good. You and DJ, watch out for RJ.”

Your heart felt like it grew three sizes just watching him reassuring the kids and making sure that everyone was alright for you both to leave. “We’ll try not to be too long,” you said, and you went and grabbed each of them in a hug, leaving a kiss on the top of DJ’s head too. “Keep your bow with you,” you told him. “Good. See you soon, hopefully with some dinner.”

The reunion with Rosita was emotional, and you cooed over baby Coco with her and lamented the loss of Siddiq when she told you what had happened in brief. By the time you were heading back to Daryl’s to grab his bike and head out, you agreed that Gabriel was an entirely different person than he had been when you’d known him. “Gotta admit… the eye and still wearing the stuffy outfit—it’s definitely a look,” you said, walking back beside Daryl.

He let out a small laugh and glanced over at you. “Like I said, he ain’t the same.” He strapped his crossbow onto the bike and slung his leg over, standing up so you could slip on behind him. Nervous flutters were already rising before you even climbed on, and when your hands finally settled lightly on his sides, he felt like his body temp rose a hundred degrees. He did his best not to stiffen with nerves and settled down on the seat. “Ain’t sure what we’ll find out there,” he said. “Those assholes brought a horde through ‘round here. Scared off most of the game.”

Your arms looped around him more fully and he gulped again. “Fish probably didn’t run away. Neither did the plants and fungi. We’ll find something,” you said ardently. “We always find something.”

Daryl started his bike and, for a brief moment, thought he felt your cheek press to the back of his shoulder. “Ya ready?”

“Hell yeah!” you yelled over the engine, and he could hear the smile in your voice.

_ _ _ _ _ _

“Having any luck?” you asked Daryl as you approached from out of the woods nearby again, a canvas bag that now seemed rather full clutched in your hand.

“Mhm… Carp. Gonna taste like mud,” he said, nodding to the huge fish lying on the grass beside him. “But they’re definitely better than nothin’. You?”

“Yeah. Found a good haul of mushrooms—chantarelles, oyster mushrooms, chicken of the woods. And a bunch of edible plants. Ramps?” you held up a clump of something from your bag.

“Uhhh—am I s’posed to know what the hell yer talkin’ about?”

You laughed heartily and Daryl’s heart skipped a beat, as it seemed to do damn near every time you did anything. “Ramps!” you said again. “They’re a wild onion. Taste kind of like a cross between garlic and scallions.”

“Hmm,” Daryl nod, turning his attention back to the river and shooting an arrow into the now writhing form of a dark fish. “Learn somethin’ new ev’ry day. I think I always just called them wild onions. No need to be fancy about it,” he teased you, grabbing his arrow and the impaled fish with it.

You gave him a look and then turned your eyes back to the pile of large fish on the bank. “I think we have enough here for quite a bit soup. We’ll be able to feed some hungry kids tonight.”

Daryl retrieved his arrow and grabbed a bag for the fish from his pack. “Tha’s what it’s all about,” he said.

You spun around as you heard a twig snap somewhere behind you in the trees. Daryl stood and grabbed his bow again, immediately on edge, and paced several steps forward in the soft grass until he was slightly in front of you. It was a protective instinct he’d always had… even now it came back like old muscle memory.

The snap of the dry wood was soon followed by a growing growl sound and the two of you both breathed sighs of relief. “Goddamn walker. Tha’s all,” he drawled.

“Yeah,” you agreed, though the worry didn’t leave your face completely. Daryl was again sharply aware that you’d been through some very serious shit very recently, shit he didn’t yet know the full extent of. “We should get back. It’s going to start getting dark soon.”

“Yeah. I was just thinkin’ the same thing.” Daryl unsheathed his knife and advanced on the scrawny and emaciated looking rotter ambling toward the two of you. He lunged with a perfectly placed strike and sunk his blade into its head. It crumpled to the leaf litter and laid still.

The two of you strode back toward his bike, side by side, and you glanced over at him when you felt his eyes on you. “Hmm?” you prompted him, adjusting your hold on the foraging bag stuffed full of ingredients over your shoulder.

He shrugged and looked back down toward where he was placing his boots. “Will ya tell me—uhh… ‘bout when he was born? I mean—where were ya and—guess I just wanna know ‘bout it all,” he said.

Your expression was soft as you looked back at him and Daryl relaxed some. “Yeah, of course. Daryl, you can ask me anything you want to about DJ. Really about anything. Ask me anything about anything,” you laughed. “I’ll do my best to answer. Oh—and remind me to show you the book when the kids are in bed tonight.”

“The book?”

You nodded. “Yeah. The book.”

He nodded, intrigued. “Alrigh’.”

You sighed, looking ahead and taking in the way the light was filtering through the leaves still clinging to the craggy oak branches. “When DJ was born, I was still in Georgia. You remember how I said people just were finding me or I was finding them?” Daryl nodded. “I had been trying to scavenge supplies from this huge department store, get ready for the baby and find some more vitamins and stuff. I thought there was a good chance there were supplies left inside because the parking area had been some kind of military checkpoint or something and the whole thing had these huge fences chain link fences topped with razor wire. I hadn’t seen any walkers in there… I found some fence cutters and made a way inside. Pried a door open and got into the building. I was right. There were supplies in there,” you laughed dryly. “But the reason I hadn’t seen any walkers was because there were people living inside.”

Daryl’s brow furrowed heavily.

“I was lucky—very lucky. They turned out to be good people, just a small group of survivors. A found family. They saw, immediately of course, that I was pregnant and one of them happened to be a midwife. They were all with me when I went into labor. We had left the store by then. There were getting to be too many dead in the suburbs and we’d headed away from the populated areas. We took a Jeep and a truck full of supplies and found this farmhouse and set up there for the winter. It reminded a little of Hershel’s farm. We had a decent stock of supplies and I had everything I needed for the baby but I was still terrified of course… especially after what happened to Lori. But everything went smoothly and after an excruciating 14 hours of labor, I delivered a healthy baby boy and named him Daryl as soon as I saw him.” Tears brimmed in your eyes as you looked over at him again. Your voice was soft and breathy when you spoke again and you’d had to fight to get the words out. “I wish you were there,” you said. “I wished that more than anything at the time and still. He was just this tiny little thing, all wiry arms and legs.” You sniffled and tried to pull yourself back together. “For a birth in the apocalypse, I was very lucky,” you said with a dry laugh.

You walked in silence for a while, each of you sinking into your own thoughts, but Daryl finally broke it again. “Those people—were any of ‘em still with ya when—were any of them with ya when yer community was attacked?”

The weight of it settled back over you and you nodded. “Yeah. Two of them were.” The only sound was the soft noise of the damp earth and leaf litter beneath your boots.

“‘M sorry,” Daryl drawled. “We’ve all lost a lotta people over the years, but I ain’t never lost everybody all at once like ya have. Not really. I mean, it felt that way when the prison fell, but I knew there were more of us out there. I knew you were out there, somehow.”

The muscle in your jaw tensed and you nodded, looking up again at the last bit of afternoon light waning against the tops of the trees. In a moment, the tension on your face seemed to pass and you glanced back over at him. “We’ve all lost people. Who’s to say what’s better or worse?”

On the ride back to Alexandria, Daryl swore you held on even more tightly to him than you had on the way out, and he knew he wasn’t imagining that you were leaning into him.

_ _ _ _ _ _

The fish and foraged ingredients had made a huge pot of soup, enough to feed all the kids in Alexandria and a good many adults too. Everyone’s mood was jovial with a full stomach as you sat around the little table with Daryl and the kids. It wasn’t lost on you that DJ and Daryl ate exactly the same; ravenously, unabashedly, and frequently using their sleeves as napkins. It had you smiling through most of the meal. Daryl had caught you staring at him once.

“What?” he prompted you, hurriedly wiping a sleeve across his mouth as if he thought he had food stuck there.

You smiled and shook your head. “Nothing.”

You’d tried to convince Carol to come for dinner but she’d insisted she didn’t want to intrude on your first night back. She gladly accepted some of the soup though, and you’d made her promise to come find you the next day. Now, you and Daryl were telling Judith, RJ, and DJ old stories and regularly cracking them up into fits of giggles. Dog was happily chewing a scavenged deer bone on the rug.

“Hey, what ‘bout that time,” Daryl had to pause and let out a gruff laugh, pointing at you. “‘Member, ya flipped the bird at that squatter? And then—”

“Alright!” you said standing up hurriedly, and cutting him off on purpose. “I think they can hear the rest of that story when they’re all older! Kids, help me clear the table please,” you said, grabbing Daryl’s plate and shooting him a look. His blue eyes were smiling and they followed you all the way into the kitchen as he leaned back in his chair.

Judith and RJ wanted to stay the night since they hadn’t seen their Uncle Daryl in so long (and you were definitely an added bonus) so you helped him set up bed rolls for them on the floor in his room before tucking DJ in in your own bed down the hall. You stroked his hair away from his face and kissed his forehead.

“Mom,” he started, yawning and sinking more deeply into his pillow.

“Mhm?”

“I think I really like this place. And… it’s nice to be around other kids again. This feels like a family,” he said and you nodded in agreement, smiling serenely.

“It does, doesn’t it?”

“So… can we stay?” he asked.

“What do I always say?”

“‘We can stay as long as we can stay’,” he recited.

“Right. But, if it makes you feel better, I think and I hope that will be a long time.”

[twosides--samecoin]

r/amitheasshole u/singlesadsniperdad420

Throwaway account. Wife (F21) died a few years back. Son (M3) is deathly ill. There's this girl (F23) who's Vault dealt with my kid's illness and so she moved across the Wasteland to help. A couple weeks ago me (M23) and her found a bunch of feral ghouls and I guess I blacked out and thought she was my wife for a second? Things are going really well with her except when we met, she thought I was a Brotherhood spy and waterboarded me for information. We're past that, now my only issue I've been avoiding talking to her about what happened to my wife. It's like my brain shuts down and I freak out. I'm barely able to talk about it with my friends, let alone her. Plus, I'm supposed to be worrying about my son, and I feel an avalanche of guilt when I remember that I have no idea what I'm doing as a parent. My doctor said the ghoul thing was a "Freudian slip" and totally normal given my past, but things are really weird now. AITA?

You can see how RJ is (and/or isn't) moving on from his deadwife manpain here

[lilyystarr]

guys give me ideas on how remus could get his scars in a muggle au, but still gives him the trauma and personality of being a werewolf, where he wasn’t in a car crash pls and thank u 🙏🙏

[ghoul-foolery]

Dirty Windows | 23

Hancock x Nora - A Fallout 4 Soulmate AU

//

Fic Summary:

Hancock never thought he would find his soulmate. Once a common occurrence, soulmates turned into a bit of a rarity after the bombs dropped. It was to be expected when there was an influx of people getting shot in the face on a daily basis. So when Hancock discovered that he had a soulmate he was ecstatic; all of the people in the Commonwealth, and he was one of the lucky few.

Too bad his soulmate didn't want anything to do with him.

//

[ 1 ] <- [ 18 ] [ 19 ] [ 20 ] [ 21 ] [ 22 ] - [ 24 ]

TW: Mentions of sex trafficking

//

If there was a single thing Hancock had learned while under the oppressive weight of his predecessor’s thumb, it was the fact that anything and everything could be bought. Sex, drugs, muscle; everything was for sale so long as you knew the right people and had the right amount of caps. Rumors and secrets could even be considered a hot commodity if the stakes were just right. And there were a scant handful of people roaming the Commonwealth gathering and selling information. It was just a matter of tracking them down.

Thankfully Hancock knew enough shady assholes that the search wasn’t overly long, or even particularly difficult. After supplying the right person with the right kind of chems, and caps he was approached to arrange a meeting a couple of days later. The meeting location was some abandoned diner out near the bay — and everything else fell into place. There were days where he wanted to abandon the whole Mayor gig; call it a day, pass on the title, and melt into drug-addled obscurity. And sometimes being the Mayor of Goodneighbor came with enough perks that he was glad he stuck around. After a couple days of waiting around, and another half of a day to travel to the little abandoned diner (not because of distance, but because fuck the Bay Area, and all it’s hiding places, in particular), and then after doing a sweep of the place he waited some more. 

The place was another dilapidated chunk of building in a veritable sea of bigger derelict buildings. The windows had been boarded up, and the signage was faded, but portions of the inside were almost suspiciously clean. The bar top was mostly pristine. Booths tucked up against the boarded windows were notably devoid of dust but the tables were littered with old candles and wax. It was easy to assume that the little diner was someone’s go-to location for meetings. 

Hancock burned time with cigarettes and melting old wax with his lighter. As the sun started to fade, and stopped filtering in through sparse roofing, Hancock lit the remains of the melted down candles. He’d brought an old flashlight just in case — along with a bag of caps — but he didn’t mind using the candles. It added a bit of drama to the setting.

The broker didn’t arrive until it was dark. He entered the diner in a swirl of clothing — a trench coat so long it swept against the floor. There was a dark fedora pushed down low over his eyes. The room was lit by candles and slices of moonlight and he was wearing fucking sunglasses. As a fellow costumed freak, Hancock couldn’t help but think the guy was some kind of vigilante wannabe. Very Silver Shroud if the Shroud sucked. Hancock wondered if he could pay the guy to visit Kent. Just for fun. Just to give the old ghoul something to talk about.

“Before we begin, you will disarm. Put any weapons you have on the bar. Then sit back down. I have an armed guard waiting outside.”

Hancock slid from the booth. 

“What’s in the bag?”

“Caps and a flashlight, brother. You’re more than welcome to check.”

When he was met with silence, he crossed the room to the bar. His sawed-off was pulled from his thigh holster and placed on the counter. It was followed by his bowie knife. On the way back to the booth, he counted his steps. Just in case. It was roughly ten paces between him and his weapons. If each step he took was roughly two and a half-ish feet…

Hancock slipped back into his seat just as Not-Silver-Shroud pulled a collection of taper candles from his trench coat pocket. He lit them without a word, using the already lit candle, and then he mashed the stems into the softened wax to secure them to the table. Once the guy settled into the seat across from him, he leaned back.

“How can I be of service this evening?” The guy was pitching his voice into a lower register, it put just enough strain on his voice that it was easy to pick up.

Hancock fished his flask from his pocket and took a swig, then he went hunting for his cigarettes. He let the silence hang between them as he lit up, leaning forward to use one of the fresh candles. A puff of the cigarette bought him time to collect his thoughts and think things through. There was a right way and a wrong way to go about this. He couldn’t just go straight to the “tell me where Cecil is so I can kill him” of the thing.

“I’m in the market for a companion.”

“A companion,” the man echoed thoughtfully.

If the fucker had done his homework, he would have known that despite the fact that the Mayor of Goodneighbor was bit of a delinquent, a kingpin, an alcoholic and an addict, he still had morals. Consent was big in Hancock’s book. It was fucking huge. Sex work was real work until it involved buying someone against their will, and that’s where it turned into a killing offense. Not-Silver-Shroud didn’t seem to know that though. Hancock was a ghoul, a gross creature who most certainly had to buy their sex partners, right? The Brotherhood of Steel, and people like Hancock’s brother, made people think that ghouls were monstrous, subhuman creatures. Hancock would lean into the misinformation if it suited him. 

“I heard there was one of those vaulties running around somewhere. I’ll be honest, I’d love to get my hands on one of them,” Hancock drawled, forcing out a wistful sigh. 

The smile that creased the man’s features was borderline sinister. It was a dark look, a knowing look. Hancock didn’t want to know what the smile meant for fear that he might kill the bastard before he got what he needed. 

“It just so happens,” the man said, all smug. “Some pretty smoothskin did just crawl out of a local vault recently. If you’re interested in someone like her in particular, it would be best to make a move on her now, before word gets out any more than it has. She might fall into the hands of someone not willing to sell.”

Oh, wow. 

He felt like committing murder. The slow, calculated, kind.

Hancock settled back into his seat, draping one of his arms over the back. He flicked some ash to the table, then placed the cigarette back in his mouth as he made a show of thinking things through. In reality he was doing his best to keep his composure. Another puff and he was pinching off the end of the cigarette so he could save the rest for later. He placed it back into the pack, then shoved it back into his pocket. 

“You’d be the man t’ask if the word has gotten out or not.”

That smile again, slow and daunting, “And information like that will cost you.”

So they started the game. 

It took caps to divulge just how many people Not-Shroud had told about the vault girl; four, including Hancock. That was three too many. Clearly enough for some asshole to send some goons after his girl. The caps were pulled from his travel bag, bunched in pre-counted wraps of burlap. Black-gloved fingers swiped the offered caps on the waxy table.

“Before I cough up any more money, what’s this vaultie look like?” When the broker looked uncertain, Hancock shrugged. “Just wanna make sure she’s my type.”

Just wanted to make sure that there wasn’t some other poor, fuckin’ oblivious vault dweller wandering the Commonwealth without a gun or a clue.  

“Red hair, green eyes,” was all the man said. Apparently that sort of information was free, enough to catch a man’s attention, enough to get the hook in place, enough to get them to pay for more. “Apparently has all her teeth - all straight, and white. Pre-war figure, like the pin-ups.” Boy, did she. All pretty and soft. Though, he supposed it was easy to compare her to a pin-up when so many living in post-war America were skin and bone. “Real cute, or so I was told.” 

The rage that Hancock felt was staggering, it made his hands shake and his pulse leap in his throat. He swallowed, trying to keep his cool when all he wanted to do was get his knife and drive the blade into the fucker’s head. He was spreading word about Nora – his Nora. There was no doubt, no question about it. Even if it wasn’t Nora, some poor person had the wrong kinda eyes on them and that wasn’t okay. He’d stop it.

“Fuck,” he managed to rasp.

No response, just a gloved fingertip gently tapping against the table’s surface. Hancock dug into his bag again. It was another allotment of caps to get a general heading; North. Nora was North. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

The game continued on like that for far too long. Not-Shroud would let bits of information slip, enough to peak curiosity, enough for a potential buyer to ask more questions and put down more caps. Hancock played. He gathered enough details that he was starting to suspect that someone in the Sanctuary Hills settlement was selling some information of their own.

“I heard there was a guy that I might be able to buy from if hunting the vaultie doesn’t go down as planned. Don’t suppose you know a guy named Cecil, do you? Heard he had some decent merchandise.”

The man’s index finger tapped the table, “Well, perhaps…”

More caps, more prodding for information. 

“Cecil runs one of the better operations here in the Commonwealth by way of premium stock.” Stock. Humans. People. “You’ll have to go through his man to schedule a meeting unless you’d like a hand with that.”

“Just need t’know who I’m looking for and where.”

Before the man even had to start tapping his finger, Hancock tossed more caps onto the table. Cecil had a guy in Bunker Hill who went by Gerard. Fucking-A, he was going to shut this shit down. He was going to take down this guy before he could get to Nora, and he was going to save everyone he could along the way.

“If you want, I can set up the meeting,” Not-Silver-Shroud said again.

“Nah, brother,” Hancock said. “I think you’ve cleaned me out of caps for the night. Might as well give you the bag to pack everything out of here.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, and made a show of sighing before he reached out to shake the guy’s hand. Thousands of caps had been passed around in this little goddamn meeting. What a racket. “Thanks for the information.”

The Broker gathered his money into a travel bag he had brought. The guy blew out his candles, but didn’t bother to gather them. He left them on the table. A go-to meeting spot indeed. 

“Wait five minutes and then you are free to leave,” the broker instructed, then left the diner with a swirl of his dumb oversized coat. Hancock did not wait five minutes. Leaving his gun on the bar, he waited just a beat – long enough to relight his cigarette and fish his flashlight from his bag. When he pushed the door open he wasn’t at all surprised to see the broker, along with his guard. He was a big sonnova bitch, too. Armed to the teeth, gun already in his hand. “I told you to wait–”

“Hey, man,” Hancock turned on the flashlight, pointing it straight at the Broker. “I just wanted to say it was a real pleasure doing business with ya.” His cigarette waved between his lips as he spoke, his free hand reaching up to flick the front corner of his hat.

It wasn’t a second later, not even a full heartbeat, when there was a crack of noise and the Broker’s head exploded all over the side of the old diner. The Broker’s guard raised his weapon, leveling the barrel at Hancock. The flashlight was aimed at the guard. On an exhale, as smoke seeped between him and his attacker, there was another explosion of gunfire that pierced the night. The poor nameless guard dropped to the ground in a heap.

Hancock meandered over to the Broker’s body. Rolling him over with a push of his foot, he stooped down to grab the bag of caps. “I’ll just be takin’ these back.”

It was roughly 20 minutes later, as Hancock was navigating his way through the abandoned streets of downtown Boston, when he was joined by former Gunner, RJ MacCready. The man emerged from the shadows of a nearby building almost too casually, that mean ol’ rifle of his slung over his shoulder. His hat drawn down low over his eyes, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

“So? How’d it go?” The kid was good. On the best of days, MacCready was a little shithead, but he was Hancock’s little shit head. MacCready had become someone that Hancock knew he could rely on, and that was the sort that Hancock needed.

“Ah, ya know, it went fuckin’ swell. Just swell.”

“Sure it did. That’s why you look like you’re gonna break someone’s neck.”

Nora was safe at the moment, still hanging around the Slog when he had checked on her a few hours ago. He had peaked in on her and gave her a fair warning not to make a surprise visit unless it was dire. She seemed awfully fond of the place, and had grown attached to some old ghoul named Arlen. He had watched the two interact, and he was a fatherly sort – and Nora needed that kind of support. For the first time in days, she was content if not happy, and he didn’t want to disrupt that by telling her that someone had sold information about her. But he couldn't just let this shit rest, either.

“Hey, brother,” he said to MacCready, as they walked. “What are your per diem rates?”

//

Tag List: @takottai / @a-little-pebbl  / @yamatra

[stuffnthangsss]

Grimes Family Reunion Fic – Gun Wounds and Lost Birthdays

Hi! This fanfic was completed some time ago and I've just been procrastinating posting it... post TOWL family reunion fic where Michonne and Rick think about their son, Carl. Read at ao3! Kudos & comments appreciated, thank you. <3

Summary:

Rick and Michonne's reunion with their kids is tinged by their memories of Carl.

Or, Rick and Michonne mourn and heal in a way they haven't been able to, previously.

[millaysmaeve]

i'm stuck on the idea of a richonne time travel fanfic - the premise is nearly done in my head, it's not a time travel per se, but actually rj coming up with a way to communicate with the past because he needs information about how the zumbi virus was created, so he contacts the only two people he truly tusts which is his parents but it's years before the turn and michonne is pregnant with andre and rick's marriage is starting to go south - see? i almost got everything figured out the problem is i can write fiction in english for shit so i came here just to vent this idea and hope someone is interested in writing it.

[slayingqueenchal]

pretty when you cry. | remus lupin x f!reader

summary : you and remus had a big fight and remus realize that he messed up

Warnings : and I think this is my best fanfic idk, angst, I can make part two if many people ask for it

Remus looks at you, as you leaves and said 'have a nice day' to him. Even if you were mad, you always do everything softly. You closed the door softly, knowing damn well if he had to leave he would've slammed the door.

It's a week til the full moon, but, some how, he feels moodier. He can hear everything, so loud, he can see so sharply, and the smell of blood and meat is inevitable.

But no, you wouldn't like that he's a werewolf, he knew that you would freak out and tell everyone, that's why he always keeps a distance with you.

Oh how much he wants to spend time to you, well, Remus knows well he can't. He always get attached, and he never had a good relationship with girls anyways.

Since second year, when you two met in a proper way in defense against the dark arts, he had a big crush on you.

'I'll get over in probably six months or something' but that six months became a year, that one year became two years, and it's became three years, then four years, and eventually, five years.

The way he fell for you.. He remembers it vividly. The way you laugh, the way you act, the way your hair sits on your back as the wind blows it, the way you smile at his jokes, the way that you're so supporting at everything.

You'll always support everything he did or will do, but, he know you'll never accept his Lycanthropy. It was something in his guts that, made him more insecure. Being friends with you was the best thing ever, but the insecurities kept growing and growing.

Remus realized that he actually fell for her, everytime a guy other than the marauders and a few others step five feet close to her, he thinks that you'll like them.

His eyes softened, actually realizing what had happened, he lost the girl he fell in love to, or did he?

But in his head, he did lose you. He screamed at you, to stop being so needy--so possessive but you were nothing like that. Remus was the one who's being possessive and needy. Cause he'd go were ever you go, help you at everything, to him you were his queen.

He regrets it. Everything he said. But he sees in your eyes you were hurt. Remus's thinks that, you'd be better off without him, and though it might hurt him a little along the way, it didn't matter, cause he always hurts him self along the way, so, the most important thing to him is you.

He wanted you to be happy, to be with someone who actually is good for her, not like him, toxic werewolf.

Remus knows well that many men and women likes him, but, the person who's in his heart is you.

Always you.

Always.