#zombies fanfic

[naok-iyuu]

When the sun falls - Zed Necrodopolis x Reader

I am so sad one of my biggest comfort character doesn't have much fanfiction to honor him, so I'll try to work myself to fufill my desire and make some of you guys happy ! I am quite not satisfied with what I did, but I've spend so much time on it that it must be published now. (and why are the dialogue with the childhood friend better written than the actual overall fic???) Please do not hesitate to leave prompts or ideas you could have for future fanfictions, I'll gladly read them and write !

English is not my native language, I appologies for any grammar or other mistakes ! Don't hesitate to tell me for future work. Idea from Creative Writing Prompts My Masterlist

No warnings, just highschoolers being highschoolers.

Word count : 2.6k

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-. It was when the sun made his smile a little bit brighter that you realised, Zed Necrodopolis was indeed making your heart beat faster.

_

You had taken the habbit of spending time near the football field when school's days were over, not wanting to go home the second the bell rung. Your childhood friend being a player in the seabrook team made it easier to find an excuse as why you were always near the team of shrimps. It became usual for the group of boys to see you, always sitting on the highest bleacher, reading a book or scrolling on your phone when words were too much to bear after a full day of eyeing them on the school board.

Maybe, you sometimes left your eyes wander, watching the jocks run all over the field, tossing balls, and screaming excitedly at each others. It was funny at times, even when you were secretly praying that one of those balls would never have the secret need to kiss your face.

Today wasn't the day you would get hit by a ball, but it was the day your eyes decided that a green haired boy was more interesting than your romance book about a super-hero and the girl he'll never have. Zed was the kind of guy that was easy to get along with. You both weren't close friends strictly speaking, but James, your childhood friend, made it easier to speak to the zombie. Conversations flowed safely when you two spoke, even when James was between you two, trying to feed conversations, hoping he'll get the two of you to become besties and hang out more with him. He was an optimist, something that really brought light to your life since a young age.

Your head was resting on your backpack, your body fully lying on the bleacher seating as the few last minutes of practice were almost over. Your hand hanging down was careful not to touch the ground, there was no way your skin was going to touch something long forgotten by a dirty student. Your eyes attentively followed Zed's green hair like he was the only guy you knew amongs the teenagers. Surely because he was the most noticeable, you had told yourself. Sometimes it hits you, why Zed was so popular amongs the folks in Seabrook. He was the first zombie who got his kind accepted by the humans, he was a good football captain and player. And now that his relationship with Addison ended a few months ago... It was safe to say that girls became a bit more aware of his charms. It would be a lie to say you've never noticed how handsome he looked, you just choose to ignore it, most of the time.

"Hey (L/n) !" Hearing your last name, you let your eyes drift lower to find the blond hair of James calling you with the biggest smile. Waiting down the bleachers, he breathed like he just ran twenty times the field. "Careful there, I can see you drowling from over here."

His voice was loud enought to reach your ears, and loud enought to catch the other boys attentions. He chuckled and a few players followed his humour with amused smiles, catching your attention. You narrowed your eyes, both slightly embarassed and annoyed that he had to call you out in front of all his teammates. You automatically stand up, picking your bag in one, strong hand, and made your way to him down the bleachers, already knowing that practice was over.

"Nice try James, I was just watching if your skills in football were better than mine." Switching you bag from your hand to your shoulder, you defended yourself with the tiniest amused smile, guiding his attention to anything else than you eyeing the captain of his team.

"Oh really ? What do you think then, did I improve myself ?" He asked, his joke long forgotten.

"Not really. You are not even reaching 10% of my football skills." Your smile grew wider as you made fun of him.

"Yeah yeah of course, how about we take that to the fi-"

"Hey James, time to take a shower buddy." You did not notice Zed approaching the two of you, only letting your eyes on him when he stood next to your friend and made his presence known. His elbow nudged James's, earning a scoff from him.

"I was going to, but I still need to take care of the lady remember ?" He moved his finger close to his temple, reminding him of your presence and how important you were.

"Oh I can take care of that, because it smells like death here." He waved his hand in front of his nose, making you chuckle against your will.

James tapped Zed's shoulder, turning himself to leave.

"Look who's talking Necrodopolis." He shook his head, looking at you. "I'll wait for you at the entrance." He then waved later to you, and you did too, smiling at his body leaving in direction of the locker room.

"Looks like you got rid of him." You now looked at Zed, your smile still full of playfulness. His eyes didn't lose time to search yours, raising slightly his head due to you still being on the bleacher stairs. You could have a better look at him this way, and didn't have to raise your head like you usually did. "Was my plan that obvious ?" He added to your teasing with a smile of his own, his body weight shifting on his left foot.

"Totally, I could see you wracking your brain from the football field, wondering how you would get to talk to me without James third wheeling." Funny flirty banter was your thing, whether you used it to smooth the atmosphere or to hint a slight interest. And in Zed's case... Well... You did admit to yourself that he was gorgeous.

"And I could see you staring, didn't know you had a thing for jocks." However, it was less of your thing when a charming boy used the same tricks as you. Zed's words made your cheeks grew pink, something you could easily blame to be the evening sun's fault.

"Just watching you boys play, it's pretty interesting sometimes."

"Only sometimes ?" He raised an amused eyebrow.

"Only sometimes."

"Too bad, I thought the team captain had caught your attention. You know, the handsome player with green hair." He attempted, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

"Really ? You're the team captain ? Since when ?" You let your face paint itself with a false air of surprise, playing more and more with the jokes he lets you have fun with.

"Oh it's recent, only one or two years since I joined the team. I also often forget how popular I've become." And again he shrugged his shoulders, delivering his line with the most unfazed facial expression you could have seen.

You laughed a bit louder than before, making a twinkle of victory appear in his eyes along with a charming smile. "Alright alright champ, I am just messing with you."

"I wouldn't have guessed." He mocked you a bit more, just to see you roll your eyes and shake your head with yet another giggle. A few seconds pass and Zed's can't help but notice how your eyes seems to have wandered to a thought deep hidden in your head. "What are you thinking about ?" He demanded, lowering his voice not to startle you in case you were already far into your daydream.

"I guess, I never really noticed... But the evening sun really compliments your hair." Too focus on the bright new color the sun created, you can't notice how Zed's cheeks became a lighter shade of pink, contrasting with his very pale skin. Sunddenly aware of his hair color he couldn't help but to run a hand through his locks, his eyes now shifting away from your face. His slight movement appear to break wathever spell you got yourself into and your eyes made their way back to his, not noticing his new attitude.

The next second, his eyes looked back at you, a thought of his own appearing behind the dark of his pupils. "I think I can find something well more complimenting than my crazy green hair. They are totally natural by the way."

His sentence seems to finally knock some sense into you, the very sense you had lost while looking at his hair, and the very same sense you had struggled to get back when your eyes looked at his. "I highly doubt that." Wide eyes take over your features to prove your point and your doubt before being washed by Zed's shaking his head.

"You do ? Okay, give me your hand if you are so sure of yourself." Stretching his hand in your direction, his brown orbs were pleading his case, puppy style, almost encouraging you to trust him.

You rolled your eyes, yet again, placing your hand in his. Your fingers curl around his skin, mimicking the way his just did around your hand. He does not lose the opportunity to take your second hand in his palm while your foot comes down your perch, trying to convince himself that your stability is his top priority. The grassy ground reminds you of how small you are compared to his giraffe heigh, and your head must now look up to gaze at his face. You tried to erase the thought his is skin being soft against yours, his hands being, oh so large, around your girl sized baby hands. But the task was way more difficult than you had imagined. In a soft motion, he exchanged both of your spot by making you rotate with him, his back was now facing the bleachers while you were greeted with the powerful sun on your face. You wondered how you did not became blind on the spot while Zed's face moved around tring to find several different angle to look at you. The skin on his face, moving without warning, cartooned his expressions which made you giggle. He looked so focused on his task that it made you feel self conscious about your look. "What you are doing ?" You try to quiet your giggle while your eyes followed his every move.

He focused his gaze on your eyes again, smiling with satisfaction. "The sun really compliments your eyes, they are beautiful."

At that moment, you couldn't quite grasp if it was the way he looked at you, or the way his voice gently complimented you, or maybe if it was just the fact that you were lying to yourself about being attracted to him, putting that affirmation far behind the fact that he was just charming. But his words stole all the air from your lungs and you felt extremely hot in a matter of seconds. His gaze didn't drift from yours, just admiring you even if he noticed the shy mess he just made of you. He was enough of a gentleman to not make a comment about it, and just appreciated it. Your thoughts racing faster than a rocket made your eyes dance in every direction possible, trying to find your words and confidence from earlier. Acknowledging the fact that you needed to respond, you bit your lower lip, trying to find the air you once had in your lungs.

"They are pretty common, really." You tried to put his words above your head, high enough so you wouldn't think nor take them for what they were.

"Have you seen my eyes ? That's what you can call common, you can even call them poop brown." His joke diverted you from your previous thoughts, obtaining, like it was a precious gift, another laugh from you. You shook your head and, at last, looked at him again. "Are you serious ? Have you seen your eyes under the sun's rays ?" It was easy to compliment other people, you would even shove their face in whatever you could find if that meant they could see how fine you thought they looked. But when it came to you, compliments, praises, were not allowed. Hell you even made yourself think that it was forbidden. But in that moment, you could see the determination in Zed's eyes to fight you teeth and nails just to make you hear him.

"My point, your eyes are beautiful." You were about to dismiss him again when he cut you out before he even saw you mouth starting to move. "And I am winning this one, you can no longer contradict me."

You sighed a small 'okay', your being eating you from inside so you would, in fact, contradict him. His eyes were quick to make you forget what you were going to fight for, and even quicker to make you wonder if something was indeed happening between you two. You couldn't shake those thoughts, maybe you were a hopeless romantic, but you guys were flirting... Right ? Not being able to read your thoughts made Zed's bite the inside of his cheek. Your face was an open book, James didn't lie about that when he talked about you. He could see the wheels turning behind your eyes, and your eyebrows moving to every feeling and image your brain was sending you. He decided to catch your attention once more.

"Hey, I was wondering..." His voice was gentle, almost feeling like the comfiest pillow you would want to lie on. "Would you like to-"

"Hey Necrodopolis ! What's taking you so long, practice over and I want to go home !" The strong voice of the coach resounded in your ears, making you jump on the spot. He almost made you have a heart attack.

Zed's eyes widened with frustration, his head falling backward in an attempt to regain some control over his emotions. His tongue licked his lips, almost bitting it. He turned his head to look at his coach who called him from the locker room doors. "I am coming, I just need to-"

"You'll talk to your girlfriend tomorrow ! Go take a shower and go home champ." You could see from afar the coach tapping his foot against the ground, Zed surely had ran out of talking privilege.

He sighed, turning his gaze to look at you with tiny apologising eyes. "I am sorry I have to go, coach orders." You nodded to show that you understood and didn't hold it against him. With a last and gentle 'I'll see you tomorrow' his hands softly left yours before jogging in the adult direction who seemed to scold him when he arrived in front of him, and maybe tease him a little.

Your hands suddenly felt cold, sinking in the fact your brain had erased on purpose. His hands had hold yours mid conversation and didn't let go. You haven't even thought more about it on the spot, like it was natural. Your heart was beating a bit faster than usual, it took a deep breath to ground yourself. It was when the sun made his smile a little bit brighter that you had realised, Zed Necrodopolis was indeed making your heart beat faster. And you were totally going to blame the sun for it.

"I guess you were too busy and forgot to meet me at the school entrance." James had reached your side from god knows where, his football uniform long forgotten and changed into some random t-shirt and sweat pants. He looked at you with a cocked eyebrow and the most annoying smirk he could have made up on the spot.

You shook your head from your previous thoughts to now fight your childhood friend who seemed to want to have fun about the fact he had left you alone with his captain. "You sure you showered ? That was pretty fast." The best defense is a good offense you convinced yourself, praying that James would leave you off the hook.

You started to walk away, hearing his foot following you closely before adding. "So, can you finally tell me what zombies taste like or am I, still, supposed to wait ?"

"Oh my f-..udging god !"

"Argh almost won a dollar in the swearing jar with this one." -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Am I tweaking or James parts are actually better ?

Thanks for taking the time to read my first work ! Like I said on top of the post, I am really not satisfied with how it turned out. I just feel like I did my boy dirty TwT I might be so in love that I can't even focus when writing about Zed, the sun's fault though ;)

[stray-kaz]

Midnight Resolution : a Zed Necrodopolis x reader drabble : final sequel to Awkward Question

18 and up, y’all.

You walked off the football field with Zed’s arm around your shoulders. You leaned on him, still half stunned by what had just happened. You could still feel the warm imprint of his lips on yours. Suddenly you felt Zed shake your shoulder and you looked up to see him grinning lopsidedly at you.

“Sorry, did you say something?” you asked, eyes widening a little.

The grin expanded.

“Yes. I asked if you want to come and hang out? Watch a movie, eat some popcorn, the works.”

You nodded and bounced a little on your toes, knocking against him.

“Yes, please. With chocolate sauce?”

He rolled his eyes.

“Okay, fine, with chocolate sauce. No cauliflower brains?”

You shuddered and he laughed.

“Not for me.”

“Okay, pixie. I’ll save it for later.”

You rolled your eyes a little and stuck out your tongue. As you walked on, your gaze landed on his Z-Band adorning his wrist that hung down just past your shoulder. You reached up to touch it, running your fingertips lightly over the cool metal. As your fingers lingered, a warm buzz vibrated into them and Zed’s fingers flexed out for a second.

“Does it hurt?” you asked, concerned.

He shook his head.

“Nah. It just tickles, really.”

“Do you ever go full zombie anymore?”

Zed glanced at you, a wry smile on his face.

“Not since I started college. I don’t want to get kicked out.”

“They would do that? You deserve to be here just like everyone else.”

His smile warmed.

“Thanks, pixie. But I don’t want to compromise any other monster’s admittance.”

You nodded slowly.

“I understand.”

You arrived at your co-ed dormitory building and Zed shouldered open the door to allow you to pass inside under his arm. He didn’t even ask about the elevator, knowing from personal experience just how much they freaked you out. Instead, he pushed open the door to the stairwell and led the way up three flights to your floor. Your room was only a few away from Zed’s, but you reached his first and he let you in.

He was lucky; he didn’t have to share with a roommate, unlike you.

You sat down at his desk and spun around on the chair. Behind you on the bed, he pulled his laptop out of his bag and started it up to look through his movie collection.

“Me Before You?” Zed asked, glancing over at you.

You stopped spinning and he chuckled when he saw your eyes light up.

“Yes, please!”

He set the laptop on the duvet and stood up.

“I’ll sort the popcorn, okay? I’ll be right back.”

You nodded and crossed the room to look down at the starter screen of your favourite movie.

Five minutes later, Zed came back bearing the biggest bowl of popcorn drizzled in chocolate sauce that you had ever seen. You unlaced your shoes and sat down on the bed, waiting. Zed kicked off his already loosened Converse and passed you the popcorn before climbing behind you and stretching his legs out either side.

You leaned forward to press ‘play’ before leaning back, a few pieces of popcorn already in your mouth and humming contentedly. Zed reached around you for a handful of popcorn, his eyes flicking between the side of your face and the movie.

“Why do you like this movie so much? It’s so tragic.”

“But it’s beautiful on the way there.”

Zed thought about that and figured you were probably right. He could feel your heart beating as you leaned further into him, your back pressed against his chest.

When you sat up straight and pulled your sweater over your head to reveal a pink tank top and the straps of your bra, he thought his heart was going to leap out of his chest and across the room. Your bare skin brushed his t-shirt as you settled back, another handful of chocolate covered popcorn at the ready.

Watching a movie together was a fairly ordinary occurrence for the two of you, but what was not was the heat crackling between you. You were acutely aware that his thighs were caging your hips and any wriggle or shift would push you further back against him.

The movie progressed and the popcorn dwindled, and by the time it was all gone, the main characters were kissing onscreen and you felt like a firework ready to go off. You didn’t realise your hand had clamped down on Zed’s leg until he carefully pried your fingers away and met your gaze, eyebrows arched high.

“Are you okay?” he asked, dark eyes watchful.

“Mmhm” you mumbled, and leaned over the side of the bed to put the empty popcorn bowl on the floor.

You lost your balance and started to fall, but Zed grabbed your waist and hauled you up, so you landed sprawled on top of him, your nose nudging the bump of his collarbone. You moved around awkwardly until you were straddling him, suddenly nose to nose.

“Hi” Zed murmured, his breath falling onto your lips.

You swallowed and to your embarrassment, a quiet whimper slipped free. Zed’s eyes darkened and for the first time you had an inkling of what he might be like full zombie, his gaze almost predatory and his fingers clawing at your hips. It sent a hot shiver up your spine.

“Oh, boy, look at the time! It’s dark outside! Time for bed!” you announced, pink cheeked and almost stammering.

You made a poor attempt to escape, but Zed drew you back and slid you both farther down the bed until your heads rested on his pillow and your knees were hooked in front of his, his hips pressing against your tailbone. You held your breath and waited.

“At least stay here and sleep with me” he murmured against your ear, and you shivered again.

You were afraid of what might happen if you stayed in his arms and of what might happen if you didn’t. Zed touched his lips to the top of your head, leaving a light kiss.

“I promise I won’t bite.”

You sighed and snuggled backwards, smiling slightly at his quick intake of breath. Maybe he wasn’t sure if you were going to stay either.

You closed your eyes and resigned yourself easily to the feel of his bare arms wrapping yours and the sound of his breathing evening out, every inch of you pressed against him.

You blinked your eyes open in the dark room to the red numbered glare of Zed’s alarm clock reading 12:00AM. You yawned and stretched a little, only to freeze as you felt a taut, insistent push against your backside. The lean arms around you tightened their hold and you craned your neck round to get a glimpse of Zed’s face. He was sleepily watching you, his dark eyes barely visible.

“Is it morning yet?” he asked quietly.

“Nope” you mumbled, facing away again and going still in his arms.

You pressed your burning face into the pillow, suddenly aware of the pulse between your legs and the violet urge to do something about it.

“Feels like morning to me” Zed murmured, anxiously shifting his hips against you. “I’m sorry, pixie. Sorry...”

Hearing that, you wiggled around to face him, shyly hooking one leg behind his to draw him closer just when he started to move away. He stopped, pressed right up against you. You slipped one hand free and reached for him, carding your fingers through his hair and curving them around the shell of his ear.

“Why are you sorry?” you whispered.

“Because I can’t control this, and I don’t know if you really want -”

You surged forward to kiss him, efficiently shutting him up. He felt warm and sleepy under you, but he woke up fast, coming wildly alive at your touch. He struggled to free his hands and pressed his fingers hard against your hip, his other hand bracing the back of your head to keep you close. His shaky breaths mixed with your own, his lips beginning to tremble as he set them on yours, again and again.

“Are we crazy?” Zed panted, suddenly pulling back, his eyes like liquid pitch.

You reached for the flat collar of his t-shirt and pulled him back in, noses colliding, teeth dragging at his lower lip.

“Probably” you muttered, and rolled him so you were on top, your hips setting an unsteady rhythm of their own accord.

You had no idea what you were doing, but you knew it felt good, and if the sounds tumbling from Zed’s mouth were any indication, it felt pretty good for him, too. His pale tinged cheeks were flushed, his lips parted on your name, his whole body straining to meet yours.

You leaned forward, your lips meeting the sharp line of his jaw, and his hands flew to hold your hips, his thumbs sneaking under the hem of your tank top to stroke the hot flesh of your stomach. You made your way down from Zed’s jaw to the base of his throat, where his t-shirt stopped you from going any further. Immediately, you reached down and dragged it up his stomach until it caught under his arms. He hauled himself into a sitting position and removed it, blinking a little shyly at you.

“I knew you were good looking with your shirt on, but dang” you said, your gaze straying over his naked chest and stomach.

Zed felt his face warm and wondered if it showed. Almost unconsciously, his fingers toyed with the bottom of your tank and his eyebrows slowly rose as his dark eyes threatened to swallow you whole. You nodded down at his hands and raised your arms so he could pull it off over your head, leaving you in just your bra.

He stared at you for a moment and then all of a sudden, everything was coming off. He scrambled out of his pants, shedding them in a crumpled heap on the floor next to the bed, before he knelt in front of you and thumbed the button loose on your jeans, his heated gaze fixed on you the entire time. He dragged the zipper down and then you lifted your hips so he could slide them down your legs and off over your feet.

Your bra and underwear didn’t match, but he couldn’t have possibly cared less if he tried. Zed’s black boxer briefs clung to his strong thighs, and you clamped down on your bottom lip as you looked up at him, suddenly nervous in your vulnerability.

His hands landed heavily on your hips, fingertips strumming at the band of your underwear. His eyes were hooded, his lips swollen from kissing you. Your blood buzzed just from looking at him and the throb inside your underwear grew steadily more insistent and difficult to ignore.

“Can I try something?” he asked you quietly, still absentmindedly tugging at your underwear. “I’ve heard some of the guys talking about it in the locker room, and I’m - I’m curious.”

You thought you might draw blood from your lip you were biting it so hard, but you nodded, wondering if it was what you heard other girls in your classes talking about in hushed whispers.

It was.

Zed shimmed your underwear off and dropped it on top of his clothing pile just as your back hit his mattress and your head thumped onto his pillow, your heart pounding. You trembled as his warm breath washed over your upper thighs and your legs fell open all by themselves, traitors that they were.

The first touch of his tongue was soft and tentative and had you clawing at the duvet, your back arching. Surprised, Zed clamped an arm over your stomach, holding you down like a vise, his mouth becoming more confident as you cried and mewled on his bed, chest heaving, something dangerous and unfamiliar heating you from the inside out.

And then he added a curious finger, the stars split open and an even bigger need roared to life inside you, an aching openness that yearned to be filled.

You snapped upright and grabbed his shoulders hard, surprising him with your strength as you dragged him up over you, both of you groaning when he brushed against your heat, your legs still as wide open as they could go. Zed stared into your eyes, pupils blown wide and his to match.

“What?” he panted. “Did I do something wrong?”

You shook your head and reached down to pluck impatiently at the firm waistband of his underwear. It snapped back against his skin and he glanced cautiously down at you.

“Pixie, are you sure?” he asked, his voice low, trying to disguise his own desire.

“Yes. I want you. Now. Please, I - I need you.”

Zed took no time shucking off his underwear and climbing back over you, your eyes closing slightly at the sweet, warm feel of his bare skin sliding against yours. A gentle nudge against your exposed core made your jaw go slack and then, inch by careful inch, he was completely inside you, absent of pain.

He huffed out a soft moan against your chest, his forehead tipped against your throat, his hair brushing underneath your chin.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes” you whispered, shocked by how okay you were.

“Does it hurt?”

You shook your head.

“No.”

He lifted his head to see your face, his eyes wide and amazed.

“Really? Not at all?”

You smiled shyly and shrugged against the pillow.

“Not at all” you repeated.

Zed started to slowly move his hips, testing. Your expression contorted slightly and he stopped instantly, panicked.

“Are you okay?” he demanded.

“Yes! Go! Stop stopping!”

You grasped the back of his neck and pulled him down to kiss him, moaning into his mouth as he began moving again.

The world funnelled down to just the two of you, everything outside of Zed’s room fading to black and disappearing. You knew it was his first time, too; he was hot, hard and heavy, and he was not going to last long.

His hips slammed into yours at breakneck speed, only just beginning to stutter when his mouth opened, his eyes closed tight and he melted into you, his chest sticking to yours as he collapsed, boneless and spent.

You ran your fingers through his hair, smiling contentedly and stretching like a cat below him.

Not long after, you realised he had fallen asleep, snoring softly.

Later, when the rest of the campus had woken up, you ran into Eliza waiting for breakfast in the combined cafeteria. She wore a pained expression as you approached, hand in hand with Zed, wearing fresh clothes.

“Morning, Eliza” you greeted her, confused by the look on her face. “Are you all right?”

“Look. I told you to fix him, not f-”

Zed hastily covered her mouth with his hand, grinning bashfully at you. Apparently, you had not been quiet.

Tagging: @succsessions​

[aroadcalledsobriety]

Perfectionism in Pink | A Z O M B I E S FanFiction

Chapter 1

Next

Josephine's family was perfectly pink and demanded her to be the same, but why was it no matter how much pink she adorned did she always feel green?

Pink is never the violent delight; pink is polite, tender, charming, sweet, joyous… Pink is sometimes the mellow evening sky staying still above soft zephyrs, pink is sometimes a childhood bruise. Pink is nostalgia, a gentle melancholy.

Perfection.

Her room was the perfect shade of baby pink all around with the cursive word perfection hung up over her equally as pink bed. Her mom had a great eye for detail and had hung up cheer paraphernalia, flowers, and other pretty things across her room. Fluffy white carpet and an equally fluffy bag-chair decorated the floorspace of the teen's bedroom along with a pristine vanity with quality make up. The entire house was well decorated and maintained by the matriarch of the family.

Everything has to be in its place at all times no matter who was or wasn't looking. Hair smooth, make up clean, and clothes ironed - Josephine's parents always demanded perfection. Her mom was a nurse at Seabrook Hospital and her dad an officer in the Z Patrol, there was always a need to do better and to be better.

After all, Josephine Jackson was perfect. She laughed when she was supposed to, made excellent grades, always did above and beyond in everything, and most of all she did what her parents wanted her to do without question. Just like everyone else in the city, her mother was a cheerleader and her father a football player at Seabrook High School many years ago.

Surprisingly enough, they hadn't known each other existed until after college when they moved back to the small town and bumped into each other during work. Her dad was on call in Zombieland when something went wrong and he had an encounter with one of those monsters. He solved it quickly and he walked into her mom's care. He loved to show the scar off on his neck.

Love, just like that.

Then her brother was born, the perfect child. He played football just like his dad, one of the best Seabrook had ever seen, before heading off to college to study Pre-Med after being Valedictorian of his graduating class. His graduation photo hung proudly at their front entrance and the boy was sent off for his own first year last week at the prestigious Mountain College. The same school both her parents attended and the same one she would attend as well.

Yes, Josephine had a perfect life. She did what her parents told her to do and that was why everything was perfect. Her brother did the same and look where that had gotten him. She was going to be a cheerleader, just like she was supposed to be, and she'd be a lawyer within the decade.

"Do you have everything for school, Josephine?" Her mom asked from across the table. The three were enjoying breakfast together which was rare as usually one or both parents were usually gone at work. They were well known for being hard workers even in school taking double shifts to help out their community. Moments like these were rare when the family got to eat together, but the two had decided to take a break for their daughter's first day of school since they no longer had their first born to help out.

"Yes, mom. Thank you for the new water bottle, it goes perfectly with my backpack." Josephine said gratefully with a smile. Her mom returned it with full force, pride on her face at the manners her daughter had. The water bottle was an exquisite pink that matched Josephine's lunchbox, backpack, outfits... It went well with the family.

"Good, and remember cheer tryouts are early in the semester so figure out the dates before you leave school today. Write them on the calendar when you get home." Her dad said seriously, sipping on his cup of coffee and enjoying the newspaper. He very rarely had time to read it so he did when he could. "Your brother did well following in our footsteps, he might not have been a wide receiver like your dad, but he played well."

"I'm so excited to watch you as a flier, Josephine." Her mom said with excitement, her eyes glazing over as old memories flashed through her head. The woman was no cheer captain, but she had been your average Seacoast cheerleader wearing the pink and green proudly. With a small sigh of content, she looked back at her daughter who only smiled back. "I know you're a... little… tall for a girl your age, but I just know you'll be just like your mother. Soaring, flying, it's a wonderful feeling spinning in the air and-"

Ah yes. Her imperfections. Smile and bare with it, it was all because they loved her.

"Alright sugar pea." The patriarch said gently, a loving hand placed on his wife's shoulder. "Let's let Josephine go. She needs to get an early start, you know how she is with times. I'm sure we'll be watching her at the next game high in the air very soon."

Josephine ignored her stomach dropping and said her goodbyes to her parents. She headed out to get her bike from the side of the house - she lived near the edge of town - and resisted the urge to see how fast she could get to school. She waved politely to the people of the town, throwing a good morning here and a 'its good to see you' there, before arriving at the school. Freshmen to seniors were hanging out on the lawn while a few older boys with letterman jackets threw the ball near the front door.

Her brother had been a kicker on the team, the only thing her dad complained about regarding her brother, until the boy had basically kicked every single goal and got himself into college on scholarship. Even when he failed, the boy couldn't lose.

While locking up her bike, Josephine's eyes wandered from the football over to the newly built fence and she frowned.

Zombies.

Her nose scrunched up in distaste as all the stories from her dad started to pour through her head. Monsters, no brains, undead, absolute terrors to society that deserved to sho-

"Oh, Josephine!"

Woken up from her hateful thoughts, Josephine's eyes locked onto a familiar face and even though she wore pink, she felt green. The smiling face of Addison Wells stood in front of her.

"Hey, Addison." Josephine said kindly, pushing down the jealousy in her stomach as the two began walking to the school. "How's your morning going?"

Being put into cheer camp by her family for her entire life it was a guarantee to see Mayor Missy's daughter, Addison, who succeeded in everything with an almost supernatural ease. Cheer came easy to her as opposed to Josephine who spent hours on weekends with her mom clapping at her along to beats in the backyard. Somehow the two girls were friends seeing as Josephine's parents enrolled her in whatever Addison was doing.

"It's going great! I'm a little nervous, new school you know?" Josephine nodded in understanding, high school was scary enough but now they had to be in the same building with freakish monsters who wanted to eat humans... talk about stress. Her eyes darted over to the boys again, they were throwing that ball really half-hazardly. "Plus, cheerleading... it's everything I've ever wanted to be and now... this is it."

Miss Perfect nervous about anything? Everything she did was right since she was born. There was no way that the blonde had to worry about anything. Her mother was the mayor, father the head of Z-Patrol, and her cousin was the current cheer captain. In no nearby parallel universe was Addison Wells not going to become a cheerleader. Now, maybe if a zombie visited the girl at night, ripping her face off, then she'd have something to worry abo-

Josephine had to swallow her hateful thoughts down. They would do no good in the end so might as well push them away. "You'll be fine, Addison. You're amazing at cheer and the team will be lucky to have you." Dad said being emotional would get you nowhere and you can't fight someone whose already perfect.

"Thanks, Jett. I really appreciate it." Addison said kindly with a smile at the brunette. She gave a small hip bump as they approached the front doors to school and Josephine grinned back down at her friend. "You'll get in too, I know it."

"Yeah, but my parents still talk about how perfect your performance was at junior cheer camp this summer." It took everything in Josephine to not bite the words out as the memory of her parents gushing over Addison Wells reared its ugly head. The words echoed through her head and she repeated her mother's praises. "You fly like you were born for it."

Addison stopped their walk at the steps of the school and looked over at Josephine to reassure her that she was also awesome, but Josephine's eyes darted over the blonde's shoulder at a sudden movement. There were only seconds to react properly as a small 'heads up' was attempted to warn the girl. Josephine elbowed Addison out of the way before catching the football that nearly hit the cheerleader in the back of the head.

After she caught herself from being pushed out of the way, Addison looked over at Josephine with wide eyes as she sent the ball in a perfect spiral over to the group of boys who only called out quick apologies before returning back to their game. Josephine scoffed at the lack of decorum.

"Wow, that was amazing, Jett!" Addison said with excitent, looking at the girl with gratitude. "Thank you for that."

Josephine shrugged her shoulders and rubbed the back of her neck in barrassment. "It's not a problem. You would do the same for me." She'd probably have flown over there with a cartwheel, hand spring, and back flip... Something so much more graceful than the throw that made the catcher stumble back.

"You're going to be great at cheer-"

"Wow, that was an amazing catch! And an awesome spiral a-and that distance!"

The brunette whipped around to the fence and took a few steps away from the chain-link, the voice that interrupted Addison stared at Josephine in excitent. Josephine felt her lip curl automatically.

Green hair, pale skin, sunken eyes... the undead just walking in their town as if they were one of them. She made eye contact with the taller zombie with curly hair and he grinned at her, she just looked away feeling disgust crawl through her. Josephine couldn't look at them any longer as fear started to build its way up.

"Are these freaks bothering you cuz?" The man, the myth, the weirdly self-obsessed Bucky Buchannan appeared from behind the two girls, placing a hand on Addison's shoulder as he also looked over at the zombies and started to make deaning faces at the taller one. When the zombie smacked against the fence, Bucky and Josephine took a step back in fear - the former letting out a shriek.

"Come on you guys, leave them alone. We've got to go to school."

"We just have to make it through the second invasion first." Josephine sneered at the freaks. The one who attempted a conversation between races visibly dropped in mood, shoulders down, eyebrows turned up. She couldn't care less what happened next as they were properly dealt with by security.

Addison faltered in her step at the hateful words and fell back - Bucky and his cheerleaders staying back with her - Josephine continued her walk since she didn't want to be anywhere near the green headed monsters. She couldn't believe the council voted on this to take place - did they not care about the future of Seabrook?! It was only a matter of time before the sirens went off and the disgusting creatures were ripping the human citizens to shreds.

Her first two classes went by without issue. Josephine was quickly climbing the social ladder by talking and smiling at everyone she could. Her parents taught her to be perfect and that meant getting approval from others through positive interactions - like cheerleading.

It was between the second and third block when the red alert went off and the first thought in Josephine's head was of course. She couldn't even find it in herself to panic like everyone else as she headed into the closest zombie protection room in annoyance. Maybe she could take a snack from the rations, they always did have the best jerky.

Her mom wouldn't be happy with her ruining her dinner though, so she best not do so.

When she opened the door, she looked behind her and wondered if she should do something about the chaos behind her. There was a worm wiggling in her brain of what her mom and dad always taught her, to sacrifice for others. But with her hand on the door and the red siren's making her heart race... what if she thought about herself?

In every safety room across Seabrook were these metal poles that were about three feet long and they were the first designed anti-zombie weapon that didn't require any training to use. The length of the pole could keep a zombie away from you, the weight of it could brutally bring it down, and in a pinch could be used to jump over obstacles. As an officer in the Z Patrol, her dad ensured that his kids knew how to use the weapon to its fullest capabilities.

There were movies about the incident from 50 years ago that show girls using the mop-like instrument to take the foul creature's heads from their necks, pierce them onto walls, or even depicted in different ways to keep yourself alive in the woods. Supposedly, this thing should be used to protect herself and others from whatever was attacking the school.

But, Z-Patrol would be on their way by now. If she stayed in the room and locked the door... she would be safe without a doubt. No one would be able to get in and all she'd have to do is wait for the all clear from the professionals. But... How many others would die?

Worst first day ever, honestly.

Josephine shook her head, grabbed a metal pole, and immediately went to go round up students and show them where the safe room was. It would look terrible if she was the only one in the safe room and had locked it, preventing others from safety. She would just go gather a group of students and bring them in, lock the door, and say good luck to everyone else.

There were no zombies that she could see and the hallways were pretty hectic. Were people screaming for no reason or were they running from a zombie? Josephine was getting pretty annoyed on her first day so far, but ensured to hide it behind a face of composure and polite kindness. She was Josephine Jackson, daughter of community servants and a future defender herself.

She hadn't stepped more than four feet from the shelter when her eyes locked onto green hair and she felt herself freeze in fear.

Zombie.

[writerfromthestars]

DPXDC PROMPT : ALFRED IS IMMORTAL

Alright. Don't get me wrong, I love au's where John Constantine is like "soul tax evader supreme", but hear me out.

Alfred.

Alfred, Alfred Pennyworth. Who just doesn't die. The guy's immortal. The reason for this is that Alfred is awesome, so anytime he dies, whether it be from old age or a bullet or a world-wide catastrophe, he looks Death straight in the eyes and tells them that he will die when the day comes that no one needs him anymore, and not a second before, and then he just kinda pops back to life. Because let's face it, the batfam would fall to pieces without him.

So, Alfred Pennyworth has basically just been cheating death for centuries, by this point.

Needless to say, Death is none too pleased. Finally, Death goes to Phantom, the new king, who is much more reasonable than Pariah Dark was and who agrees to actually help.

Clockwork helps Danny set up a portal and he zaps into existence in the middle of a Wayne movie night. The bats are all prepared to fight this mysterious weirdo, but Danny ignores them and turns to Alfred, who he then begins lecturing about ghostly tax evasion and how defying death isn't a good thing, so he needs to file paperwork through the proper channels to stay as an immortal almost-God.

Alfred is chill, he plays cards with Clockwork once when he dies, so he knew this was coming, but the batfamily thinks that this mysterious entity is going to kill Alfred, so they're all panicking, trying to think of ways to avoid this horrible future. Alfred calmly listens to Danny, then he interjects.

"Sir, are you aware of the fact that there is a revenant on earth? One who is most certainly under threat of more paperwork than I, seeing as he has been using the Lazarus Pits to revive himself for millennia. I, however, have only been alive for a few hundred years, so I should think that he is a bigger priority. "

Danny glances over at Jason, doubtful. "He doesn't look several millennia old, Mr. Pennyworth."

"Certainly not, seeing as Master Jason is not. Besides, his Undeath License was filed. I have a copy of it if you need to see it, your Majesty?" Alfred answers, demure as always.

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble, sir."

Alfred leaves and returns, moments later with a light green glowing piece of paper. he hands it over to Danny, who examines it.

"Seems legitimate. I assume you filed it during one of your many encounters with Death?"

"Indeed. I have it on good authority, however, that the other revenant, a man by the name of Ra's Al Ghul, has not renewed his License in at least the last half millennia, most likely longer."

Danny sighs. "Where can I find him."

"Nanda Parbat. The signature is impossible to miss."

"Alright, Mr. Pennyworth. I will return once he is dealt with, be it by filing his paperwork or returning him to the Infinite Realms."

"Very well. I will be ready." Alfred answers.

Danny opens a portal to the area around Nanda Parbat and then another, which plops him down right in front of the Demon's Head himself, in a strategy meeting with his daughter and several commanders.

They all raise their weapons, but he just basically grabs Ra's by the ear and tugs him through a Lazarus Green portal, lecturing him about tax evasion and paperwork and bureaucracy the whole time. The League is thrown into uproar, and Ra's is set down in a room with all his overdue paperwork from the past few thousand years. He feels a little bit like crying; if he had known immortality meant this much paperwork, he would've just died, honestly.

Meanwhile, in Wayne Manor, everyone is crying, because they think Alfred is going to die, Jason is confused about the whole revenant Undeath Certificate thing, Bruce is trying to make contingency plans, Tim is contacting the Justice League, and Alfred is planning out his defense and going through every ghostly law loophole he can think of because if he leaves these emotionally constipated crime-fighting vigilantes, he knows that the house that Martha so loved will go up in flames within a month.

Eventually, Danny comes to get Alfred for his ghostly court trial/hearing or whatever, and Alfred says goodbye to Bruce and everyone, goes to the Infinite Realms. Clockwork is on his side, and Alfred ends up winning the court case, on the condition that now that the has an Undeath License, he actually renew it every twenty years, like he's supposed to.

A week later, Alfred returns, crashes his own funeral, and explains that no, he will not be dying anytime soon.

Two weeks after Alfred's return, Constantine shows up at the manor basically begging to learn how the hell he managed to avoid death, and not only that, win a damn court case against them.

[zhukzucraft]

nuclear family as described by Iskall

[catgrandpa]

Gotham has always been weird, so when the groundskeeper at the cemetery noticed the Wayne kid’s plot was disturbed, he just chalked it up to more of the same ol’. Alright, so ‘disturbed’ may be a tad too light of a word, but what’s an empty grave in the grand scheme of Gotham? God knows in a city like this one, they could use all the burial room they could get. He figured he’d just jot it down on the website and hope nobody noticed for a while.

Too bad he didn’t account for the 13 year old boy in Bristol who periodically checks the cemetery’s website when he’s feeling particularly lonely.

Plot Removed.

Tim Drake stared at the two words under the heading for Jason Todd’s plot number. Removed? What do they mean ‘removed’? They can’t just remove a plot? That’s a person down there! That’s Robin down there! You can’t Remove Robin!

Calm down. Deep breaths. Assess the situation.

Robin has been dead for 5 months and 14 days. There is no reason for a grave to be removed that early, especially one of a member of such an affluential family. Chances are likely it’s a simple clerical issue. He can call first thing in the morning and make them aware of the mistake. He can have it all fixed in 5 hours.

Just a phone call.

In 5 hours.

…

Tim hates talking on the phone almost as much as he hates waiting.

Well it won’t be the first time he’s snuck out to head to Gotham proper at 1am. It can’t even really be considered sneaking out if there’s no one home to catch you.

Buses stop running at 2, so he layers a couple sweaters under his coat and grabs his best running sneakers so he can comfortably make the trek back.

Just a quick trip to settle his nerves. Maybe get a few shots in if he spots Batman, but really he just wants to see with his own two eyes that things are okay and Jason can rest.

It’s 1:37 by the time he gets to the headstone reading ‘Here Lies Jason Todd’ and the gaping, muddy pit in front of it.

This- This doesn’t make any sense. This is not removal. This is destruction. Desecration. Somebody did this. Somebody-

Assess the situation.

A hole in the ground, approximately 1.5 feet in diameter.

Mud and grass flung outward but with little force.

Large chunks of earth turned over and shoved away.

No signs of tool marks or clean lines of entry into the dirt.

Dragging claw marks.

Staggering, shuffled pairs of foot prints in the mud.

A trail of dirt.

Something… Something large clawed its way out of the ground here. Something large and bipedal and- and humanoid.

Tim refuses to jump to any conclusions he can see all the facts laid in front of him. He’s going to cautiously follow the trail and simply hope to any god listening that he isn’t the world’s first line of defense against the zombie apocalypse.

He’s been walking for 23 minutes and there’s good news and undecided news. Good news: he’s closing in on the target and the trail isn’t taking him out of the way so his trip home won’t be prolonged. Undecided news: The potential Zombie Robin is heading directly for Wayne Manor.

As zombie apocalypse news, this is very bad. From Tim’s collected observational evidence, his not-so-professional opinion is that Batman, faced with a horror movie level zombie of his dead son, would not respond well, and would likely not fight back.

In Batman and Robin news? Tim’s unsure. If Jason is simply back? What could that mean for them? Batman can have his Robin. He wouldn’t have to continue nearly killing others and himself every night in his grief. Jason could-

No. Stop. Do not jump to conclusions.

Hope only brings heartbreak.

What would Batman do? Get close and see if the target is a threat.

Target is male. Mid-teens. Dark hair. Pale skin. Leaning against surfaces as he walks. Appears injured and disoriented.

Minimal risk assessed. Approaching and attempting contact.

Target identity confirmed: Jason Todd.

“J-Jason?” It comes out as a croaked whisper. Jason shows no sign of acknowledgment.

Tim clears his throat, steps right in front of his path, and tries again.

“Jason. Jason, stop I want to help you.” Still nothing.

“Please, Jason. I can help, I promise I can help!”

Why isn’t this working?! Why can’t he just do something right for once?! He wants this to work, he wants to help Bruce, he wants to fix Batman, he wants to not be alone, he wants-

“Robin!”

Robin jerks to a stop.

Tim reached out his hand.

“Robin. Robin please, I’m sorry you’re going through this, it’s really scary, I’m really scared. But I just want to help you. Help you find Batman. Help you get home.”

Jason just stares at him. Of course he does. Of course it’s not going to work. Why did he even bother hoping he could help?

Hope only brings heartbreak.

His sight blurs as his eyes fill with tears and he starts to lower his outstretched hand.

His arm is slowed as a cold hand weakly grasps his own.

“Don’t… scared… Bat… help… Dad… help.”

A relieved sob tears out from Tim’s chest and he gathers himself together. He yanks his extra sweater off and gently pulls it over Jason’s cold shoulders. Jason lets Tim drag his arm over his shoulders to try and carry some of his weight.

“Okay, Robin. Yeah. Your dad will help us.”

Batman will solve everything once Tim gets Robin home.

[professor-scribbls]

I did Regulus so of course I had to do James next, here he is for my Zombie AU! Yes they have matching flannels no that was not intentional I’m keeping it anyway 😋

also! here a link to the fic I wrote for this AU!!

The World We Left Behind

[empresskylo]

➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓

ZOMBIE!SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY X AFAB!READER

SUMMARY | Simon is dead. And you were forced to leave him behind as the rise of the dead took over. When you volunteer to sneak back into base to grab med supplies, you don't expect to run into Simon—alive, but certainly not himself...

WARNINGS | dead dove do not eat! this is literally smut about zombie!ghost... so... beware i suppose. gore. dub-con?? afab!reader. wc 3k

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ lock me up! send me to jail!!! i can't believe I wrote this yes i can. This is how down bad i am for Ghost, I literally wrote smut about fucking him as a zombie... someone send the authorities, i need my internet taken away. (happy oct 1st btw)

𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It had been less than two days since you lost Simon.

The image of him dying in the infirmary wing, bleeding out on the bed, was plastered behind your eyes. You saw it every waking moment and even dreamt of it during the night. You could still feel Soap’s hands squeezing your arms far too aggressively as he dragged you out of the infirmary while you cried out for Simon. You tried to claw your way to him but Soap was stronger than you by a long shot. “We have to get out of here!” he shouted at you over the cacophony of voices, people running around frantically. You let him drag you away to safety, your body limp in his hold, thinking of Simon’s dying breath.

The infirmary had promptly been boarded up, the doors all sealed tight. The breakout had begun a few weeks ago and it only just infiltrated the base. When Ghost had come back, bleeding out after a mission gone wrong, you furiously checked him for bite marks. The relief you felt when you didn’t find any was short-lived. Simon had lost a lot of blood. Too much blood. You could still see it covering your hands the days following like a wraith. You felt like his blood was still wedged under your fingernails even after scrubbing your hands violently in a bucket of water. 

With the infirmary infected and the outside world gone, you had little options but to hunker down in the barracks. There were small hunting groups that would leave base and dare to edge into the city, trying to help people, and gathering resources. Ghost had been in one of those first groups to leave the safe confines of base. You wished you had begged him to stay. Pleaded with him not to go. 

The lights above you flickered, the generator not the most reliable of equipment. You looked across the table to your teammates, trying to keep yourself pulled together. It was only at night that you let yourself feel the pain, crying yourself to sleep. 

“We’re never gonna survive here if we don’t get that medical supplies,” Soap explained. 

“It’s too dangerous, Soap. We have no idea how bad it got in there. We have no way of knowing if all the bodies left behind turned,” Price retorted, pulling off his beanie and running his hand through his hair in nerves. 

“So, what then? We’re gonna send more men off to die, tryin’ to get shit from the city?”

Price closed his eyes momentarily. The bags forming under them showed just how little sleep he was getting. “We can’t risk more men. We’d be sendin’ them to their death, Soap. We don’t have the ammo to spare.”

“We don’t know that. We’re still not even sure if it's a guarantee the dead will change, or if they have to be bit.”

“It’s too–”

You cut the men off. “I can go.” Both their heads snapped in your direction. “I’m just a technician. With everything gone to shit, I haven’t been as much help as you guys have been. I can’t fight. I can’t–”

“No. We’re not riskin’ you,” Soap said sternly. 

“Soap,” you breathed. “I’m the only one here that isn’t crucial to the team. And don’t argue with me. It’s just a fact. Let me go. I can sneak in and grab what we need. I’m far quieter than any of you boisterous men anyways.”

Soap breathed your name. He was worried about you. He could see the pain in your eyes after losing Simon. He was worried this was a suicide mission. And that you wanted that. 

“Let me be of use,” you begged. Soap wanted to argue. So did Price. But you were right. You would be the fastest. And as much as they valued you, the remaining men couldn’t survive here without Soap or Price. 

“Lass, are you sure?” Soap said finally. He wanted you to feel useful, but he didn’t want you running off and risking your life because of the pain you felt from losing Simon. 

“Let me do it, Soap. Please. I need this.”

He couldn’t argue with you. He didn’t have it in him to hurt you more than you were already hurting. 

“Fine. But I’m not happy about this.”

You stood in your gear, an empty backpack plastered to your back waiting to be filled with medical supplies. Price had gone over the layout of the wing with you, showing you exactly where you needed to go to get the right supplies on a map of the building. 

You stood before the infirmary doors, the ones that would lead to a long, winding hall that would bring you to the center of the infirmary. Off of that were several rooms and more halls, and a surgical floor. It was a large span of space to cover, but you believed you could do this. 

“Be quick about it, lass. We’ll be right here when you get back,” Soap said to you, his hand resting on your shoulder. 

You took in a breath and walked up to the doors that had been unlocked, a large piece of plywood that had previously been nailed against it, removed so you could go in. Before you reached out to the door handle, you turned around and rushed into Soap’s arms. He held you tightly, your head tucked right under his chin. “Don’t you fuckin’ die on me,” he mumbled into your hair. 

You pulled back and gave him a sad smile. Then you nodded at Price and faced the daunting doors again. Once you stepped through the threshold and the doors shut behind you, you could hear the plywood being put back up, a hammer nailing it in place. When you got back, you were to knock and Soap would be there waiting to let you back in. 

The hall was flickering with a few overhead lights, the generator still powering a few of the rooms in this wing. 

Ghost had a glazed-over expression when he rolled off his medical bed. The room around him was silent apart from the ticking of a clock in the corner. There was blood pooled all around him and dripping onto the tiled floor as he stood. He had some semblance of who he was, of what happened, but most of his thoughts were hazed over like he was stuck in a daydream. 

He had walked the length of the room, a sudden craving for food hitting the pit of his stomach. Any sound made him snap in that direction, rushing towards it as if on cue. He heard banging coming from one of the med rooms, the door locked and nailed over with whatever scrap of wood they could find. More people like him were trapped behind those doors, their groaning echoing down the hall. 

Ghost limped as he walked, remembering how he had been shot in his leg. He looked down at his crimson-stained pants, almost like he should be feeling pain, but he felt nothing. 

Days had passed and he roamed the halls aimlessly, not even getting bored. His mind had drifted off, somewhere that wasn’t in his body, allowing him to walk around like a zombie, completely void of any logical thought. 

He grumbled as he made his rounds, stuck in a time loop, walking down the flickering hall again and again, passing by bodies that had been left behind. 

He hesitated when he heard something. He turned to look in the direction of the noise, intrigued. It sounded like someone had just walked blindly into a metal medical tray, knocking instruments onto the floor. His movements were fast and nimble as he approached the sound. 

He froze in place when he saw you–though he didn’t know who you were at that moment. You cursed yourself for being loud but didn’t hear anything in retaliation so you figured you were safe. Your hand rested on the knife strapped to your hip anyway.

You were edging towards the main infirmary double doors, your hand touching the metal of the handle. You should go in there and get supplies, but that’s where you had last seen Simon. You didn’t have it in you to see what had become of him, his body rotting alone. 

Instead, you walked down the hall and into a storage closet, oblivious to the shell of Ghost who trailed behind you. 

You left the door to the storage room open to let in a few strips of light so you could see better. You hunched over and began to dig through the supplies that had been thrown all over the floor in panic. 

Ghost rolled his neck as he saw you in the room, your back to him. He had a sudden urge to sink his teeth deep into your skin, to tear you to shreds. In fact, he wanted nothing more; the instinct was overpowering. 

But when he got close, he could hear your voice as you mumbled to yourself, going over the list of the items you needed. You held up a pack of linens, trying to see if they were clean. “These will have to do,” you said softly, shoving them into your backpack. 

A wave of familiarity surfaced inside Ghost, a strange feeling of being alive pumping through his veins. When he got to the doorframe, he could smell you. His senses heightened, the waft of your natural scent sent Ghost into a daze. He remembered—though he wasn’t sure what he was remembering. All he knew was that he recognized that smell. 

His body had felt like it was in hibernation, his motors set on autopilot as he mindlessly walked down the halls. But suddenly, Ghost’s true mind was brought to the forefront. And his body craved you, though not in the way he had just moments earlier. He didn’t want to sink his teeth into your neck, he wanted to feel your warmth against him. 

Ghost moved with such dexterity and silence, it was clear he was no longer human. When you stood, his arms immediately wrapped around you, eliciting a scream from your throat. 

Ghost still wasn’t fully comprehending what was happening; all he knew was that his body wanted you. His hand slid up around your neck, leaving a trail of blood on your clothes. He tried to speak, but he couldn't fathom what he wanted to say. All that came out was a strangled groan. 

You sputtered, trying to catch your breath as your heart raced in your chest. Ghost felt for your pulse beneath his fingertips, relishing in the way your blood pumped through your body. 

You turned your head slightly, spying the man who had you trapped against the many shelves in the closet.

It was Simon.

Terror flooded your system. He didn’t look like himself. His eyes were glossed over, his pupils and iris almost unidentifiable, the entirety of his eyes were white, appearing like he was blind. The blood that had soaked his face had congealed, the rusted color running down his clothes where he was shot in the chest and leg. He looked just how you left him, and it sent a sense of terror through you. 

“S-Simon?” You whispered, unsure if you were caught in a nightmare. 

A groan escaped his cracked lips. You gulped. He had become one of them . 

You were certain he was about to tear you apart, just as you had seen other fallen men do to your teammates. You closed your eyes, tears rushing down your cheeks as you prepared for the worst. His hands felt cold around your neck, like ice. You shivered against him. You accepted your fate—a small part of you actually wanted it. You wanted him to end you. To take you down with him. You didn't want to be alone anymore.

He nuzzled his nose against your neck and you squeezed your eyes shut, preparing for him to bite you. But it never came. 

Instead, he just moved his nose against you, smelling your hair and skin. His hands were still locked tightly against you, but they began to travel across your body. You opened your eyes in shock. Ghost’s hands trailed your chest, groping you with one hand, the other sprawling over the front of your thigh and stomach. You gasped in surprise. 

You felt him harden against you, something you had experienced many times before now, and the familiarity of it made your heart pound with mixed emotions. Your mind was too caught up trying to decipher what was happening to truly take the moment in. 

Ghost’s cold hands slid under your black shirt, snaking their way up to your breasts, cupping each one in his hands. Your nipples immediately hardened from the iciness of his touch. He ground himself against your backside, making you close your eyes in a moment of reprieve. You got lost in the past, imagining this was how it used to be. How he had touched you so many times before. 

You breathed his name and he seemed to like that, for he rolled his hips against you harder, his chest rumbling in satisfaction. 

The cold of his hands left you, making you oddly yearn to have them back on your skin. His fingers traced the hem of your pants before aggressively pulling them down. He got them past the curve of your ass and turned your bodies so your hips hit the edge of a shelving unit that acted as a table. You knocked all the supplies off as Ghost pushed you down against it, using your hands to catch yourself. 

Ghost shuffled with his own pants, wasting no time at all to slip himself inside you. You called out in a brief shock of pain. He held himself deep within you, his hands squeezing as he held you, his body bent over slightly, his chest flat against your back. Your own hands reached out to grab the edge of the table to help steady yourself. The searing heat of you against his frozen skin spread through him like wildfire.

Your cries ignited a flame in Ghost’s chest—the feel of your body, the sound of your gasps, the smell of your hair—felt natural, like this was exactly what he was supposed to be doing. That he was made to take you like this. That your body against him was something so ingrained in his system, that he had no choice to to let his limbs move on muscle memory. 

He began to thrust inside you, your hips hitting the table with each snap of his hips. His hand snaked around your neck, the smear of blood now coating your skin. One of your hands came up to wrap around his wrist, resting it there in support. 

You groaned as he rocked into you harder. The pain from his sudden intrusion had subsided, and now you were filled with a haze of rapture. A tear slid down your cheek. You were unable to process what was happening, but what you did know was that you had missed Simon more than anything and that this wasn’t real. This wouldn’t last longer than this moment in time. 

Ghost’s chest rumbled in pleasure as he thrusted into you. Your walls squeezed around him and he let out a loud groan. His arm not clutching your neck wrapped around your midsection, pulling you away from the table so you were flesh against him. He held you tight, almost like he couldn’t get you close enough. That if he had his way, he’d let you make a home beneath his skin. 

His hips snapped vehemently against you, his pace quickening. You moaned, your sounds coming out strangled as his cold hand held your neck. Your walls tightened around him, your climax rapidly approaching. You couldn’t quite believe that you were not only fucking your dead boyfriend, but you were going to come in record time. 

You were absolutely intoxicating to him as your warmth clenched down on him, your heat something recognizable to him, and yet, the intimacy was foreign at the same time. Now that he was devoid of his usual body temperature, the warm feeling of you around him was almost painful. 

When you mewled and cried under him, your walls spasaming, he drew himself to the edge right behind you. Ghost came inside you with a great urge, growling in your ear as he tried to support the two of you. You felt him fill you, the white fluid seeping out around where his cock continued to pump in and out of you. His movements became sloppy, your legs shaking, your hand clutching onto his wrist for dear life. 

You couldn’t hold back the cascade of tears, finally letting them flow as Ghost slowed his pace before stopping altogether. He edged out of you, his arms hesitantly letting you go, and you immediately turned around to face him, burying your face in his chest. You sobbed as he stood there. His arms didn’t reach out and hold you like he once would. He didn’t try to comfort you like he always did so well. 

But still, he just let you huddle against him, taking what you needed from him. He didn’t attack you. He didn’t try to kill you. He wasn’t himself, but he wasn’t fully gone either. You turned to look up at him, resting your chin on his chest. He looked down and you stifled a cry. His white eyes were going to be permanently burned into your mind, haunting you for eternity. His face was sullen and blanched, blood smearing all across him; fresh blood dripping slightly from his mouth.

You tentatively reached a hand up and rested it on his frozen cheek. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled. Ghost made no indication he could even hear you. 

You took in a deep breath, willing yourself to do this, and stepped back. You adjusted yourself before slowly reaching down for your bag. Ghost stood and watched you, the only thing moving was the tilt of his head as he traced your movements. 

You shuffled to the door, anticipating him to reach out and end this daydream, ripping you apart. But he just watched you go, his mind riddled with foggy thoughts. He wanted to tear into you, but another part of him prevented him from doing so. He wanted to grab you and hold you against him for some reason. He liked the warmth your body provided. But another part of him felt nothing at all. 

He watched you leave in a stupor, his mind just barely grasping onto the image and memory of you. It’s true, he wasn’t completely gone, but he was fading fast. 

You cried violently as you stumbled back to the exit. When you banged on the doors, you heard the plywood being ripped off and the doors swinging open. Soap pulled you back into the base and held you at arm's length. “What happened?” he asked desperately. You were sobbing and covered in blood.

Should you tell him? Would Soap let you return to Simon knowing he wasn’t gone? Or would they make you stay here, letting Simon slip away forever? 

You suddenly regretted leaving him. You should have stayed with Simon, even if he was a shell of who he used to be. You should have waited the time out together until he fully lost himself, and you would let him take you down with him. 

[dan-under-the-bed]

I don't think fanfics or fandoms will ever get the absolute insanity that was sbi ever again like you could put tommyinnit in any situation with his little found family and it would work

Like you want superhero/supervillain fics? You got em

You want space fics? Right over here

Mermaid fics? Yep

Zombie apocalypse? Don't even have to ask twice

You could have a random thought of the wildest au and he would fit right in and I dont believe anything will ever come close to what that was

[queenimmadolla]

𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐞

(A Lisa Frankenstein, Eddie Munson AU)

next ┊ 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Summary: After a series of unfortunate events in your life, and lonelier than ever, you often turn to a dead guy and his tombstone for comfort. Never in your wildest, fucked up dreams did you imagine he’d turn to you for the same thing, but you find yourself hiding a living corpse, bringing him further to life, reaping some justice, and cutting off a lot of body parts all while trying to fit in and falling in love.

a/n: Part One is here! Just want to say thank you to my friends for hearing me rant and rave about Lisa Frankenstein for weeks now, though I’ve been unbearable with this concept in my head. This will be the longest chapter, just to establish some stuff, but we’ll get to the slaying! Hope you love Undead!Zombie!Eddie as much as I do. Happy reading! (p.s.,there will be some romantic smut in a later part)

Chapter warnings: a bit steve harrington x reader, some eddie munson x other female, death of a family member, brief description of SA (bordered with RED DIVIDERS if you’d like to skip), mistreatment of Reader, suicidal ideation (reader just has dark humor), implied murder, very campy, very cunty.

THEN, 1986.

  “Where you head’n too so in a hurry, boy?” Wayne Munson asked, sat on the couch with a mug of steaming hot coffee in one hand and the television remote in the other as he watched his nephew bounce around the trailer, grabbing all of the the items he let haphazardly around. 

  Wayne always told him to pick up his things, but like the rambunctious boy he was, there was no breaking out of his messy habits.

  “I got people to see, pops. Things to do. Trouble to ‘cause, cops to anger, you know the drill.” Eddie didn’t even need to turn around to know his uncle was scowling but he was proven correct when he turned to throw his father figure a shit eating grin over his shoulder, “Kidding, old man. Mom had me baptized when I was a baby, remember? I can do no wrong, like Achilles.” 

  “Wha’?”

  “Ugh, dad. If I have to explain the joke, it ruins it. I’ll be back by dinner, alright?”

  Wayne fixed him with a pointed look, “You best be on your best behavior, you hear me?”

  “Always.” Eddie gave a mock salute before dipping out the front door, still grinning as he tossed the keys of the van and caught them midair. 

  While he wasn’t necessarily going to cause trouble, he certainly would be providing the fun grass, powder and pills that were often behind it. Eddie knew Wayne was aware of what he did, had implied so when talking about how he knew Eddie was a good kid, just living in the wrong circumstances sometimes. Always said he wanted nothing but the best for his boy and for Eddie to realize he was meant for more than what this particular town forced on him. 

  Made Eddie’s chest tight, but seeing things like the broken patio board—Eddie had accidentally stomped through it after seeing a spider—reinforced Eddie’s belief that he’d much rather help out any way he could than let his uncle bear the financial weight of providing for him. 

  The van roared to life, after sputtering for a good seven seconds, and Eddie revved the engine a little. As he let her warm up, something in the side mirror caught his attention. 

  Someone. 

  Sheila. His neighbor in the trailer across the street. She was hauling a box to a car, looked rather heavy and Eddie would have dropped everything to scramble over and help her, had it not been for Mr.Brawn at her side. 

  Eddie watched as the guy, who stole the girl he was in love with right out of his arms, grabbed the box. The two lovers exchanged words which ended with them laughing at something as she followed him to the car.

  He slid the box into the packed car as she climbed into the passenger seat, and before Eddie knew it, he was watching her drive away, right out of his life forever.

  Eddie hadn’t even realized he was clutching his steering wheel so tight, his knuckles were straining against the skin, hot tears pooling at his waterline but he refused to let them fall. He’d shed more than enough tears over her, over what could have been.

  They started off so promising; throwing flirty waves from their bedroom windows, occasionally at school, before she approached him for weed. After that, came the whirlwind romance and Eddie hadn’t considered himself a romantic before—hadn’t had a whole lot of opportunities to make that discovery but he was so fucking romantic. A big sap. And he wasn’t ashamed of it. 

  Until she’d graduated, and he hadn’t. Again. Turns out, not trying at academics all year and then aiming to ace finals wasn’t enough. 

  Suddenly, all the bullshit naive plans they had to run away somewhere far from Hawkins weren’t possible. At least, Sheila couldn’t with Eddie. 

  He lost her to a guy in another band, had made the mistake of taking a piss after he and Corroded Coffin performed to their tiny ass crowd, and had come back to see her talking to the keyboardist of the band that had gone on before them. She looked entranced, leaning forward to hang on to whatever the fuck he was saying. When Eddie had gone over to ask her if she was ready to head out, fully prepared to tuck her under his arm and way from the keyboardist, she’d insisted and told him to his face, in front of his apparent competition, that she was gonna stick around a little longer and he should head out without her.

  He’d spent the entire night pacing in front of his window, glancing out of it every five minutes and every time he heard a pair of wheels turn onto the dirt road. Eddie got his confirmation when his car happened to be one of them. He’d watched, heart splintering, as the keyboardist got out of the car and walked around to open her door for her before they disappeared into her trailer. Eddie knew her dad worked nights. Knew what she and that musician were doing and he’d thrown up the entire contents of his stomach at the imagery before passing out.

  Eddie woke up to Sheila hovering above him and framed by the glow of the bathroom light like some angel. She’d dumped him right there and left the spare key he’d trusted her with on the table.

  And now, she was living her dream with someone else while Eddie got to stick around this shitty town with these people who could barely stand him for no reason (and yeah, okay, maybe he’d poke their buttons). In truth, while he was a little heartbroken over her, it was the fact that she still got her happy ending that hurt the most.

  The girls around Hawkins might have been interested in maybe hooking up with him, but they weren’t interested in being Eddie’s girl. Weren’t interested in falling stupid in love with him, making plans to start a life together. Didn’t want him in their plans.

  Eddie Munson was lonely. And it sucked.

  With a heavy sigh, he cranked on the radio, fingers twisting the volume dial up to the most obnoxious level before shifting the gear to drive.

  “It’ll get better, Munson. Love ain’t no stranger.” He mumbled, sucking on his teeth and pulling out on the road.

  If he had known then where it would lead him, where the night would take him, he would have at least hugged his uncle. It would be the last time he saw him, and it would be the last time Wayne Munson saw his nephew alive.

  Three days later, he’d be identifying and weeping over his boy’s body in the morgue after reporting Eddie missing when he didn’t come home.

  NOW, 1989

  “Where are you going? It’s almost time for breakfast.” Chrissy called out, head poking out from her bedroom as she watched you race down the hall.

  “Not hungry! I’ll be back soon!” You called over your shoulder, the large sheet of craft paper wrinkling in your hand as you took the stairs two at a time before bounding down the short entryway.

  You’d almost crossed the foyer and then slammed yourself back against the wall as you saw Laura, Chrissy’s mom, fiddling with something at the table. She had the radio on, some garbage self help tape spewing nonsense to her, and that condescending smile on her face.

  Yeah, you’d be avoiding her, lest you wish to be verbally and eloquently belittled. How Chrissy came out of her toxic womb to be such a good person, you’d never understand. 

  When Laura crossed into the kitchen, you sprinted for the door, fumbling a little with the knob in your urgency, but once you got it open, you were out, running across the walkway and the fencing around the house until you were in the woods behind it.

  Only then did you feel safe, the trees a welcome reprieve from your living situation, the magnifying glass this new town had you under, and from the world in general.

  You’d come from a small town before Hawkins, so you were used to small town living. But these people were so judgemental. You hadn’t even grabbed a box from the moving van before your neighbors were casting you snide looks, noses turning up and backs to you as they watered their yard and lounged about.

  Four months later, nothing had changed. If anything, they were more open with their disdain for you, commenting on your demeanor (and you were a cool fucking person), outfits, hair, body. It was annoying. They were annoying. EVERYTHING was annoying. 

  You didn’t even want to be there but you had no real choice. You’d graduated high school a couple of years ago and despite the popular teenage notion that you’d simply pack up your things, go to college and be successful at whatever career you wanted, life did not happen like the movies. The freedom you’d been promised by your own delusions never came. That bitch came with a hefty price tag and you weren’t exactly jumping into a safe of gold coins like Scrooge McDuck with your minimum wage job. 

  You’d gotten into several schools of your choice, but scholarships wouldn’t be nearly enough to cover it, and you’d literally have to sell your entire body to science if you wanted to be able to afford the loans you were being offered, since their interest rates were higher than the standard human beings’ lifespan. 

  So, living with the ‘rents was checked off on your list of things you didn’t want to continue doing past your high school graduation. And hey—you were only 19 years-old! You were still young! Just save up a few years, and maybe one day you’d be able to think about taking a loan. You had time. What could possibly go wrong to throw your plans off?

  Your mother was murdered.

  Yeah, that was a bummer. Could’ve been worse, you supposed. You could have died with her, when your home had been broken into, and sometimes you wish you had. Alas, you were still breathing, albeit extremely traumatized. But only good ol’ mom was six feet in the ground, in an entirely different town, because your father had also moved on a mere few months after her death, with the worst woman to leave flaming footprints on the earth’s crust, and they’d eloped after like six dates before moving you to a town where you knew no one.

  Thinking about it actually made you sick and feel a little delusional. 

  The only real good thing about your entire soap opera of a year was the community college you’d been able to enroll in. You had no real idea what you wanted to do in life, had no real drive for career paths, but you were doing something, and that something kept the she-devil that was your stepmother off your back. Most of the time. Some of the time. She couldn’t say you were a deadbeat yet.

  Chrissy, your sweet to a definitive and insensitive fault step-sister had pushed you into going with her for registration. Convinced you it was the perfect way to make some friends. It was hard to say no to Chrissy, she had a way with people and could make the meekest soul feel like they were capable of anything and everything. She could always see the best in people, and she was outgoing. Your time in Hawkins had been brief, but you’d easily gathered Chrissy was popular, a former cheerleader (and she’d successfully tried out for the community college team) and beloved by all. While part of you felt a little jealous at her confidence, you admired her more. She was never intentionally mean to you, either. She made the occasional comment, but it seemed like Chrissy had more so a filter problem, rather than spitting anything out with sugar coated hostility like her mother. Chrissy was...nice. After everything you've been through, you could use a little nice in your life.

  And sometimes nice was also the woods behind your house, as it led to the Hawkins’ Cemetery. 

  Morbid, sure, but you couldn’t help yourself. After a particularly nasty encounter with Laura the first week of your Hawkins sentence, and feeling lonelier than you’d ever felt before, you’d gone for a walk, tears decorating your face with wet trails as you tried to physically hold yourself together, arms wrapped around yourself. 

  You’d arrived at the cemetery, and because you couldn’t pay your mother a visit, you decided the only decent thing to do was visit other lonely souls.

  You’d stopped to pay your respects to just about every tombstone and plaque, but one in particular caught your attention.

  Tucked away in a corner and separate from the other graves, under a weeping willow, was the most damaged tombstone of them all. Parts of it were broken off, a lot of the information pertaining to the individual underneath it was seemingly grated off. You had no idea who it was, the only remaining legible letters were MUN and you figured it was he simply because you’d taken some paper to the tombstone for etching and ran a black crayon over it. You’d been able to make out the word ‘he’ on the paper and deduced it had once read may he rest in peace. 

  The state of his tombstone surprised you, given how recent the date of death was. While his birth date had also been worn away, the year of death—1986–had been left. It was 1989. No way his grave should’ve looked like that.

  Apparently, even the groundskeeper avoided his part of the cemetery. The grass around his grave was overgrown, and pitiful. So, you’d gone home, grabbed the lawn mower, and pushed it all the way over. You’d ended up disgusting, covered in grass, dirt and sweating like a cheater on a Sunday morning, but his grave was looking better. You’d taken to caring for his grave after that. A bunch of your trinkets and things you'd seen that you immediately thought he’d like surrounded him now and you’d even planted some bluebells. 

  He also made surprisingly good conversation, even though he never talked to you. His presence, while mostly imaginary to you, was comforting. 

  So, during any free time you had, you were sat against his tombstone, chatting about your day, life, whatever you wanted. Felt like he was always listening, no matter the subject and it was really lovely to be heard.

  When you arrived at the cemetery, it was practically vacant, with just the red headed girl you normally saw. You didn’t see her all the time, she was just one of the faces you saw the most, and that was only a handful of occasions. For the most part, Hawkins didn’t seem keen on remembering the dead. 

  “Hope you haven’t been lonely without me,” You greeted as you approached his tombstone, ducking under a few low hanging willow branches that still brushed over you anyways. You’d have to ‘borrow’ Laura’s shears soon, the willow tree was hauntingly beautiful around his grave, but you wanted its branches and leaves to frame his grave, not conceal it, “I missed you.”

  It was a little odd, but you did. 

  When you weren’t at his grave, you were thinking about him, trying to put a face to MUN, wondering what his life had been like. Did he have any loved ones? What had his interests been? How had he died? Had he felt as lonely as you did?

  “I know, I know.” You settled onto the grass in front of his tombstone, securing the craft paper to his tombstone with some masking tape, “I was just here last night.” You imagined he would say.

  “I just can’t stay away from you. You have a very intriguing aura: I can’t see it because you’re dead, and that makes me want to know you more.” You pulled a black crayon from your pocket and went about scribbling on the paper, over where you knew MUN would be etched in stone, “I’ve said it a million times, and you’ve probably turned over in your coffin repeatedly because of it, but you’re the only one who understands me. And you’re the only one here that I care about—probably in the whole world actually, except maybe Chrissy but I know her friends think I’m weird, and I don’t want to drag her down with me.”

  Once the letters appeared on the paper, you sprawled out STER and you dropped the crayon to produce a pretty hot pink marker from your pocket instead, signing your name with a little heart to go with it just above the last name you’d crafted for him.

  The odds of this dude being a Munster were slim to none, but you thought it was fitting for someone who lived in a cemetery.

  You sat back on your haunches to admire it, it was a cute piece. Would look nice on your wall and whenever you missed him and found yourself longing to be near his grave, all you’d have to do is turn on your side and you'd be able to see part of him. 

  You ripped the paper off his tombstone, and weighed it down on the grass with a rock. With that out of the way, you gave him your full attention, shuffling until your head and shoulder were leaning against the stone, “Would you wanna be dragged down with me? Be seen with me? I’m somewhat of a pariah around here. Did you have better luck when you were still kicking?”

  You figured with how fucked up his tombstone had been, probably not. You imagined he’d confirm it, too. Just out right say, ‘Nah, these assholes hated me.’

  “Yeah, looks like we’re two peas in a pod.” Then you glanced down, fingers, twirling the blades of grass over his grave, “Or, you know. Casket.”

  You let silence fall over you, broken only by the chirping of birds in surrounding trees.

  “Goddamit, why do you have to be dead?” Your eyelids fluttered close, and instead of the cold stone, you imagined your head pressed against a warm chest, rising and falling with breaths, and a heartbeat thumping strong below your ear, pushing blood throughout his body. Imagined he was alive, arms slipping around you, firm and strong to hold you together so you didn't have to anymore.

  But he wasn’t, and you were reminded when the groundskeeper shouted, “HEY!”

  You shot up, glancing around until you saw him by the entrance with a leaf blower, “YOU AWAKE?”

  What kind of a dumbass question was that? Sure, it had looked like you were asleep but you were clearly alert now.

  “YEAH!” You shrieked back to be heard, and he went back to not caring. 

  “He can see me leaning against your tombstone, but he can’t see overgrown grass, weeds, rocks, or your grave in general when I’m not here. Men, always so selective, amirite?”

  You glanced at the stone, half expecting it to respond. “Eh, what do you know, you’re just a man, too.” You reached your arm back, knuckles trailing over MUN.

  “Despite you mouthing off to me most of the time, I brought you something.” You reached into your other pocket and pulled out a necklace, lined with black pearls and a cross pendant. It had been your mother’s. While she had a pension for religion, it wasn’t something you thought about. Dying, sure, but whatever afterlife? Not so much. Felt wrong, sometimes, to carry it around with you—felt like you were disrespecting her a little bit to not believe what she did, even though she had no qualms with it when she was alive. So, you figured why not trust it with the other important person in your life?

  “Pretty, huh? It was my mom’s. She’s dead, like you. You wouldn’t happen to have seen her around, would you?” You joked, fingers stroking over the pearls. There was no risk in leaving them with your dead friend, people avoided him and you had a feeling even grave robbers wouldn’t dare step near the willow, so they’d probably be with him for the rest of eternity, “I want you to have them, take care of them for me.”

  You placed the necklace over the peak of his tombstone, smiling when they didn’t fall from their place, “Mm, you look good in them. Better than I do, I’m not big on pearls. More of a silver jewelry kind of girl. I could do gold and diamonds, though, only for a wedding ring.”

  You held your arm out, admiring your ring hand void of any actual rings, “Nothing too gaudy, of course. That’s what my earrings are for.” 

  Your eyes trailed from your outstretched fingers, to your wrist, and the watch decorating it. The time made you heave a heavy sigh, “I gotta go. Chrissy’s dragging me to a party tonight, so I’ve got to mentally prepare for that. You’ll think of me while I’m away, won’t you?”

  Trailing a finger down the stone, you leaned forward to press your lips to it in a sweet kiss. 

  “I’ll be back soon, and this time I won’t forget my book of sonnets. I know how much you love the cynical poems I force on you.”

  And though you announced your departure, you found it hard to leave him, like you always did. It took all you had to gather your crayon, marker, and your new poster (and you kept dropping all three to have an excuse to linger) and leave the cemetery behind, glancing back impulsively every couple of steps until it was no longer in view, and the moment it wasn’t you wanted to drop everything and run back to him.

  You had to remind yourself he was a stranger, who didn’t care for you, rotting in the ground. And it sucked. 

  “I don’t wanna go.” You announced, staring into the bathroom mirror you shared with Chrissy. You’d just finished your makeup, eyes heavily lined, and lashes coated an electric blue that made your eyes pop. You were always a little heavy handed with your makeup, you figured the whole point of it was to use it as you wanted. Your hair had been manipulated to hell and back, but regardless of what you did, you were unsatisfied with the girl staring back at you, “I’ll just stay home.”

  “Not on my watch!” Chrissy declared, reaching in front of you for her pink lipstick. The bathroom counter was littered with your combined beauty products, “This is the first major rager of the year, the perfect social gathering. You need to meet people, sissy.” 

  You scowled at the idea, “I have met people.”

  Chrissy tubed the lipstick bullet, rubbing her lips together as she gave you a concerned side-eye, “People who like you, sissy.”

  Ouch, there’s that brutal honesty.

  “It’s not good for you to be on your own all the time,” She set the lipstick down so she could place a dainty hand on your shoulder, big blue eyes focused on you, “I worry about you. Daddy and mom worry about you. Your doctor worries about you. You need to get out more.” Chrissy stressed, pink lips pulling into a reassuring smile before she went back to focusing on the mirror and her makeup.

  You let out a heavy sigh, mulling her words over. Definitely could have been phrased better, but Chrissy was right. You were currently the town recluse, and occupying your room and the town cemetery wouldn’t change that. 

  “That blush isn’t the right shade for you, sissy.” Chrissy broke you from your thoughts and your eyes drifted back over to your reflection, the girl looking so unsure and right back at you, “You really have to accentuate your features, compliment them, because you’re already beautiful.” 

  Didn’t feel like it.

  Your expression must have given your inner thoughts away because Chrissy turned to you again, practically bouncing, “Wait a minute, you could use my tanning bed!”

  You deadpanned at the mention of the ridiculous full on salon tanning bed that Chrissy owned. There was a dedicated mini garage in the backyard for it, next to the pool, and complete with neon lights, her beauty pageant trophies and sashes as well as her cheer trophies. The PG&E bill was always through the roof for the Tan Shack alone, and you still had no idea how Laura could afford it.

  “No, Chrissy I-I don’t think that would work on me. At all.”

  Chrissy waved off your concerns, “It’s not about the tan, or even if you can tan. It’s the experience. When I lay in that tanning bed, with those little goggles on my eyes and I can hear the buzzing, I feel myself blooming. Regardless of whether or not my skin actually tans,” It didn’t. Chrissy burned but she somehow still looked good, “I feel amazing about myself.”

  “Are you sure that’s not cancer?”

  “You’re so funny!” Chrissy laughed even though you were being serious, “Sissy, every girl deserves to feel beautiful. If I can provide you with an experience that might raise those confidence levels that are dragging across a nail-covered floor right now, why wouldn’t I?”

  Your eyebrows furrowed, trying to decipher if that was a compliment or not, but you didn’t have long to mull it over before Chrissy was framing your face with her hands. 

  “And I can. Please, let me do this.”

  You groaned, long and drawn out and awkward, before squeezing your eyes shut and slowly nodding your head. She squealed, clapped her hands together and dragged you out of the bathroom.

  After explaining how it all worked, Chrissy bid you a cheerful goodbye and left you to your own devices so she could finish getting ready for the night ahead of you both.

  You’d selected your tan level, positive you wouldn’t see any real results but maybe the ‘experience’ would benefit you and shed your fuzzy slippers and robe, leaving you in some boy shorts and a tank top as you tried to settle yourself in the tanning bed. The dip was awkward, and you couldn’t get a good grasp on the top of the tanning bed since it was meant to only open and close rather than stay in position so grasping onto it for balance as you lowered yourself in led to you conking yourself on the head with a noticeable bonk.

  You hissed in pain, rubbing the sore area as you clambered the rest to the way in. Once you’d stretched your legs out, lowered the top, maneuvered the goggles over your face and waited for the magic to happen as you were surrounded by neon blue lights.

  You heard the buzzing as the tanning bed started up. The magic happened alright. The entire tanning bed shocked you, and you shrieked as you felt the intense electric current ripple throughout your body, sparking every single pore in the worst way possible.

“I’m so sorry you got electrocuted, sissy.”

  Chrissy broke the silence as you sulked in the passenger seat, your hair a little bigger than normal and not a result of styling. After getting all five senses shocked out of you, you’d come out with a hairdo that would not usually be up to par with you, and some serious case of static electricity. You’d tried to gently press your hair down and when you saw a literal spark in it, you decided to just leave it alone.

  Your step-sister had been apologizing since.

  “It’s alright. I survived.” And you wanted to forget about it. 

  You could see Chrissy glancing nervously at you from the corner of your eye as she drove you to the party location.

  “So…how are you liking Hawkins Community, so far?” She asked, thankfully changing the subject. 

  “It’s fine. The campus looks relatively the same as the community college I toured in my old town. Classes are decent.” Pitiful. The classes were so boring and straight out of the book, but it cost you a fraction of a fraction of what you’d have to pay to attend a university. 

  Chrissy lips turned up in a mischievous smile and you internally groaned, fully expecting her next question.

  “See any cute boys?” And then, as an afterthought, “Or…girls?” Then she took her eyes off the road again, squinting at you as if she was trying to assess something, “Or…..anyone?” 

  You betrayed yourself, eyes darting to the window before they were back on her and she perked up in the driver’s seat. 

  “Okay, spill.”

  Your heart started thumping wildly in your chest as one particular guy came to mind, but you hadn’t thought about him too much. Hadn’t allowed yourself to entertain the idea of a romance with him. That’s how people got their hopes up and letdown.

  “Sissy! Sissy, come on. You have to tell me. I’m your only friend!” 

  This time, you could tell she was joking, even though she did have merit. You bit your lip as she ribbed you a bit more, the corners of your lips tugging up into a smile. 

  “Okay, okay!” Your hands flew to cover your face, embarrassed, shy and a little giddy all at once to actually be admitting you had a crush. 

  “Steve Harrington.”

  “STEVE HARRINGTON?” She repeated, incredulous and you shushed her even though it was only you two in the car.

  “Sissy, that’s so unexpected! I haven’t really seen him since high school but I didn’t think he’d be your type.” Chrissy admitted with a shrug of her shoulders.

  “He works in the library.” You sighed out, recalling your brief interactions with him when checking out a couple of books. He’d been kind, made a couple of humorous comments about the titles, and always tried to meet your avoidant gaze, which meant he was being nice to you. Coaxing you out of your shell. You actually didn't have much trouble interacting with people, you were more abrasive than you ever were shy, Steve was just a little too easy on the eyes. Made you forget how to talk, and on occasion, walk. It was embarrassing, “Always makes those cute displays with recommendations.”

  “Good for him,” She commented, sounding impressed. “I didn’t really know he was intellectual. Wasn’t, the last I heard. Had a big reputation in high school, seemed kind of mean and everyone called him King Steve.”

  You frowned, feeling the need to protect him, “Didn’t they call you the Queen of Hawkins High?”

  “Yeah, but only to make me seem pretentious.” 

  You raised your eyebrows, glancing away. Chrissy was kind, but sometimes, she could be pretentious.

  “And anyways, I’m not a student at Hawkins High anymore, so they can’t call me that. Maybe Steve really did change. Come to think of it, I haven’t heard much about him since he struck out with a series of girls. Maybe he took a good look at himself and decided a change was needed.” You could feel her eyes on you again. 

  “Does he flirt with you?”

  “No.”

  “See him flirt with any girls?”

  “Nope.”

  “Does he still make his hair all big and poofy?”

  “Looks more voluminous than poofy.”

  Chrissy hummed, “An improvement. Is he all beret wearing and drinking coffee now?”

  You tried to recall ever seeing him in a hat, let alone a beret, “No, I don’t think so. If anything, he’s introspective.”

  “He’s on the spectrum?”

  Your smile waned when you realized she was asking a legitimate question, “Oh. No. That’s—that’s not what that means. I just meant he’s thinking about what he does; how he acts, how he behaves.”

  It got quiet for a few moments.

  ”Well,” Chrissy broke the silence once more, “He might be there tonight. I’m not sure if they’re still friends, but Tommy Hagan is hosting tonight, and once upon a time, they were inseparable.”

  You made a sound of acknowledgment, upper lip twitching in disgust. You knew Tommy, saw him around campus. He was a big jerk, you’d witnessed him throw some guy’s backpack in the trash and pour his drink on it. You wish you’d known it was his party you were going to in advance. Tommy was a nasty piece of work, so his friend group was the same. Out of all of them, though, Carol got on your nerves the most. 

  She didn’t pay you a whole lot of attention, but when you were walking in with Chrissy—and this is Chrissy, so she acknowledged everyone—and she said hi, Carol would just look you up and down before pursing her big mouth like she’d sucked on something sour. One day, you’d like to give her your fist to suck on.

  ”Patrick McKinney is bringing three kegs and I heard Reefer Rick is bringing his whole inventory.”

  “Reefer Rick?”

  “Yeah, he’s the local drug dealer now. I mean, he’s always been but he used to have somebody sell for him while he supplied, but he died.”

  Your eyes widened while your pupils dilated, mind conjuring up some image of a poor dude being murdered for drugs and then the supplier just taking over, not fearful at all of meeting the same fate, “He died?”

  Chrissy nodded her head, looking thoughtful, “Yeah, Eddie Munson.”

  Munson.

  You sat up in your seat, fully alert and invested in the conversation now, “Eddie Munson? Is he buried under the willow tree in the cemetery?”

  You stared at Chrissy, willing her to think faster as she squinted and pursed her lips, “I think Tina mentioned something about someone peeing on a tree over there, so I think so.”

  Your mouth dropped open, expression utterly horrified that someone could do that, “That’s beastly, what the fuck?”

  “I know,” Chrissy sighed with a shake of her head. “I didn't know him all that much, bought some weed off of him a couple of times and he seemed a little scary—appearance and mannerism wise—but he seemed nice when you had to interact with him. He didn’t deserve that.”

  “How did he die?” You asked, voice small and heart shrinking. You didn’t like where this was going. Didn’t like it one bit.

  “Well, the official determination, if I remember right, was like a drug deal gone bad or something, but no one really believes it. He was known to have weed on him, kept the harder stuff somewhere else. Everyone knows he was murdered. They did a number on him, it was all everyone could talk about because Sydney Porter couldn’t even get her dad—he worked at the station—to show her pictures. He told her they messed Eddie up bad. People here really didn’t like him. No one knows who did it though.”

  You sunk back into your seat, mind troubled and stomach turning. This whole time, you'd been tending to and caring for the grave of a murdered guy, taken from this world simply because people didn’t like him. He must have been so lonely. So scared. And they killed him.

  Chrissy was wrong. People in this town knew who killed him, because one of them, or some of them, had to have been his murderers.

  Your fingers curled into tight fists, painted nails digging into the flesh of your palms. Chrissy noticed the change in your demeanor.

  “Oh, sissy. You’re such an empath. Don’t be so sad, I know it’s a horrible story, but he’s resting now. In peace.”

  “No, he’s not. They fucked up his tombstone. He can’t even be dead in peace.” You huffed, furious on his behalf.

  “How do you know?” Chrissy asked, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow. 

  “I go there a lot, it’s nice. Quiet. A little creepy, but that adds to its charm, makes it relatively peaceful. I’ve been visiting all the graves, but I was drawn to him the most. Etched his tombstone. He’s my favorite.”

  Despite the horrors you’d learned, the thought of Mun—Eddie, still brought a wistful smile to your lips. Maybe your presence was enough to settle him, bring him a little bit of peace this town and the people in it refused to give him.

  “H-He’s your favorite…?”

  “Yeah. I feel this….connection with him. From the very first time I visited. Now, I leave him gifts, flowers, pretty stones, poems I wrote, a book of sonnets I stole from the library.”

  “You….should talk to your doctor about this, Sissy. That’s really weird. That’s really weird, sissy.”

  You fought to not roll your eyes. As much as you cared about Chrissy, and knew she cared about you, she didn’t understand you. 

  “Well, since people ruined his grave, I thought it might be nice to clean it up and make sure he’s not forgotten.” You snapped, “It’s not like I call him my boyfriend or anything.”

  Chrissy eyed you skeptically, “Well, then that’s nice of you, I guess. Just don’t go around telling everybody about that, or you’ll be known as the Ghost Whisperer.”

  “He hasn’t talked back to me yet.”

  Chrissy laughed, and freed one hand off the wheel to lightly slap your arm, “See, now that’s funny. If you do tell anyone, end it with that joke. You’ll be a riot.”

  You smirked, staring out the front windshield. You’d let her think it was a joke. For now.

  You made a sound of displeasure as Chrissy pulled into a clear space on the grass and parked. She jumped out to dance over to her friends, some wine coolers cradled in a plastic bag she clutched.

  You allowed yourself a full minute to stew in your misery before getting out of the car and following after her. As you neared her group, you quickly realized that was a bad idea. 

  “Oh my GOD! Vickie, you fixed your teeth! They look so good. I wasn’t gonna say anything because I thought you were happy with the overcrowding, but now that you fixed it, I can’t look away!”

  Yeesh. You beelined away from them and wandered around the crowded front lawn, dodging rowdy friend groups and couples until you spotted a cooler.

  Maybe a drink would calm you down.

  You squatted down and popped the lid, digging around the ice but all you spotted were Pepsi and Squirt cans.

  “The liquid fun is inside.” A guy’s voice came from behind you and you rolled your eyes. You were so not in the mood to be hit on right now. 

  “What?” You asked, tone bored, but you didn’t want to make him seem helpful so you grabbed a Squirt.

  “Alcohol. He keeps it inside.”

  You slammed the cooler shut and popped the tab of the can, rising to your feet, “Yeah, I figured that mu—shhhh.”

  Oh, shit. 

  Steve Harrington was standing before you, eyes alight with mirth as he smirked down at you.

  You swallowed hard, hoping to god your tongue hadn’t gone down with the movement. See? Here you went getting all stupid around him.

  ”Funny seeing you here.”

  You laughed nervously, “Yeah. I—uh, mhm.” You forced yourself to take a drink of your soda to keep from making an even bigger fool of yourself.

  “Sorry if it’s weird of me to just walk up to you. I was chilling on the side of the house and thought I saw you, but I’m a little nearsighted and I didn’t bring my glasses.”

  You pulled the can away from your mouth as your brain registered the lack of metal frames on the bridge of his nose. He looked handsome with and without them, that wasn’t fair. It was still throwing you off. 

  “It’s—It’s okay. Uhm, no harm done.” You shrugged your shoulders, hoping it looked cool and not as stiff as you felt. You even added in a smile with some teeth for a little razzle dazzle.

  “I actually came over here to tell you your books are significantly overdue.” Steve deadpanned, tongue playing with his canine tooth as he scrutinized you and you shrunk, smile falling from your face. You had got to get better at following up on your due dates.

  “Oh.”

  He scoffed, face breaking out into a grin as his shoulders shook with his chuckles “I’m kidding.”

  OH, THANK FUCK. 

  “Oh,” And then, because every god probably hates you, you started snorting with laughter. You cut that shit quick, clearing your throat as you took another sip of your beverage.

  “So,” Steve took a step closer to you, “Are you enjoying─”

  “Hey!” Carol stepped right up to Steve, practically leaning all over him as her ruby red lips spread into a seductive smile, eyes lidded and no doubt a few drinks in with a drink for Steve in her hand. For the billionth time that night, you rolled your eyes, trying not to gag at how desperate she was. You knew Tommy had recently dumped her, the entire town knew and now she was clearly trying to get into Steve’s pants, “I found the keg.”

  She could eat shit, his pants were yours.

  “Oh, Thank you.” Came Steve’s bleak reply and part of you thought he might have actually wanted to talk to just you. Now, you were really annoyed she’d interrupted.

  “Hey, Carol.”

  Carol looked surprised that you’d even dare speak to her, raising her eyebrows, “Hey. Hi— sorry, how do we know each other?”

  “You’re my lab partner.” You were unimpressed, you expected her to be a better mean girl. 

  “Yay me.” The smile she directed at you was anything but friendly, reminding you of the one Laura would make after you did something in public she didn’t like, but she couldn’t yell at you until you were home. Carol swirled the liquid in her cup around, head tilting as she offered it to you, “You wanna sip, partner?”

  “Carol.” Steve warned and she tutted, flicking her wrist.

  “You’re right, I don’t know why I assumed she partied.”

  “I’ll take a beer,” You could handle alcohol, had cleared your mother’s wine cabinet after she was murdered, so this would be no big deal.

  Carol looked annoyed but handed you the cup, and to make sure you wouldn’t gag and vomit, you threw it back, throat opening as you swallowed the liquid as fast as you could to refuse it as much time on your taste buds as possible.

  When you lowered the cup, you realized you’d made a mistake and glanced into it at the small amount left behind, watching as the ground in your peripheral view began to shift.

  Steve seemed to realize something was wrong, quickly taking your cup and ingesting what was left. His suspicions were confirmed and he spat it out on the grass before scowling at Carol, “PCP? Really, Carol? What the fuck is wrong with you? Why the hell would you give that to her!?”

  “Oopsie.”

  But it was too late for you. You dropped the soda can in your other hand and lifted your hands to your face, watching the lines around your palms and fingers begin to move, swirling around and you backed away from them, watching as everything around you began to come undone.

  “Hey!” You heard a voice next to you and someone started rubbing your back, you hadn’t even realized you were crouching. You craned your head up to see Chrissy and you frowned. Her voice was so different, distorted. She sounded more like your dad than Chrissy. 

  Her face was both far away and right in front of you, you reached a hand out to test the theory, see if it really was close. Chrissy caught your wrist, frowning at the state you were falling into.

  Chrissy started asking you questions, about what you’d taken, what you drank but her voice was too loud for you, and the purple behind her head was distracting. Still, you nodded your head.

  At your confirmation, Chrissy’s frown intensified and she helped you to the ground before darting over to chew Steve and Carol out.

  You couldn’t stay on the grass for long, the blades of it stabbing you and sending pain shooting up your palms and into your bones so you crawled some distance away before you managed to push yourself up and stumble towards the house. It was hard.

  Everything was moving. You heard a loud sound and glanced around wildly until you were staring up at the sky, mouth dropping open to see green clouds and lightning. 

  You had to get away, the need to escape, be safe was urgent but it felt like the closer you got to the front door, the farther away it went. Your breathing was heavy and panicked as you kept stumbling forward, arm outstretched and finally you reached it.

  You yanked it open and nearly fell inside, tripping over your feet until you hit the back of the couch and used it to sink to the floor.

  You heard your name being called and lifted your head, eyes crazed as you tried to find the source. Fred Benson approached you, the skinny boy squatting to be eye level with you.

  “You okay?” He asked and you reached forward, grasping his face in your hand and squeezing to make sure he was a real person.

  “You.” Was all you said, booping his nose but still suspicious of him. Was he real?

  “Uh, yeah. It’s me. It’s Fred, we sit next to each other in ASL class.”

  He looked like Fred. You still didn’t believe he was human, squinting as your hands grasped at the back of the couch.

  “You don’t look so good,” Fred pushed the frame of his glasses up his nose, brows furrowed in concern, “Let's find somewhere for you to sit down for a minute. Or maybe a while. Man, what did you drink?”

  He stood up, offering you a hand and you took it but didn’t pull yourself up. Fred heaved with all his might and managed to get you on your feet but he realized just walking you wouldn’t be enough, and so did you because you draped yourself over him, one arm over his scrawny shoulders.

  Fred cursed under his breath but held your weight, leading you out of the populated living room and you watched a couple furiously make out on the couch cushions as you passed.

  “I hate parties. I don’t know why I came—well, actually I do. I never got invited to these in high school, so I guess I’m living out my fantasy now. In all honesty, I’d much rather be watching Weird Science. So far tonight, I’ve seen three cheerleaders throw up and a baby being conceived.”

  “Uh huh,” Was all you could get out, watching people swirl past you like shooting stars.

  “Would you count that as escaping the teen pregnancy statistic? I know they’re out of high school, but we’re all still pretty young.” He commented as he led you up the stairs. You tripped several times and almost sent him flying down them but the two of you managed to make it. 

  Fred was heaving by the time you'd shouldered him into the hallway wall, his face and hands clammy.

  ”Good god, how did I pass P.E.?” The two of you paused there until he regained his breath while you plastered yourself against the wall, cheek pressed to it and hands stroking over the wallpaper. Eventually, Fred peeled you off of it and kept moving until he could find a place to put you.

  “You like movies right? Got any favorite directors? Or favorite films?”

  “Wall.”

  “Huh? Oh, you’re just admiring the wallpaper.”

  “Great Wall of China.”

  Fred positioned you against the wall, looking a little annoyed. You didn’t care, could only focus on the framed photo of the Great Wall of China directly across from you.

  “Oh.” Was all he said when he spotted it. “Stay right here.”

  Then he disappeared and you watched as the painting came to life, and the stones of the wall began moving, rippling. You didn’t even know stones could move like that but now it made so much more sense. 

  Fred appeared again, tugging you along into an empty room. You spotted a trash can and nearly threw Fred into the bedroom wall as you dove for it, retching everything out of your stomach. You could hear Fred gagging, but he was decent enough to make sure your hair stayed out of your way. When you were done, he helped sit you up on the bed, and nearly collapsed next to you.

  ”We did it,” he cheered with no real gusto. And you sat there, still feeling the earth orbiting. It was the most odd sensation, you could feel a spot on your brain pulsing, like a migraine but it felt so euphoric to close your eyes.

  “Here,” They snapped right back open and you glanced to your side to see Fred offering you a handkerchief. Of course Fred Benson carried around a handkerchief. How amusing. 

  “Thank you,” You gave the three versions of him you could see right then a smile and used the handkerchief to wipe your mouth, eyelids fluttering close just as the sound of thunder filled the room, and a flashing of lightning accompanied it.

  “Huh, a rainless thunderstorm, looks like the angels are bowling.” You heard him muse next to you.

  And it brought another smile to your face, “My mom used to say that.”

  At the mention of her, your brain conjured up all the happy feelings and memories of her, huddled on your couch, in your old home watching black and white horror films. They didn’t scare her, so she could tolerate them. You missed her. She made you feel so light, so seen, so—no.

  Something was wrong. Something felt very, very wrong.

  Your smile faded and you felt your belly sink as you opened your eyes.

  “Does that feel good?”

  You didn’t want to, but you looked down to see Fred’s hand on your breast. Your breathing picked up and Fred let go of you to grab your wrist and force you to touch his crotch, “Well don’t just sit there, help me out. Finish what you started.” 

  Anger filled you and you yanked your hand away, “No.”

  Fred opened his mouth as you got up, rushing away from him and stumbling back out the way you remembered while he yelled at you.

  You had to get out, had to get away. Had to be safe, feel safe. You banged against walls as you went, desperate to get out of the house, away from Fred, from everyone, and to safety. That was your only concern as the drug really hit you.

  All you could remember was seeing colors, hearing and feeling the wind against your sweaty skin, leaves blowing with it and gusting around you.

  You had no idea how you escaped the mad house, how long you’d even been walking or how you actually got there, but you found yourself in front of the cemetery, a flash of lightning illuminating the gate.

  To anyone else, a cemetery would have been the worst place to find themselves on a night like this, but you’d already been to hell so you trudged forward, feet taking you to him. Even in your drugged state, you were able to find your way to Eddie. Always would be.

  Your knees dug into the grass as you collapsed in front of his tombstone, fingers reaching forward to trace over MUN and 1986 before your body curled around the large stone, hugging yourself to it. Electric blue tears slipped down your cheeks, staining them with your mascara.

  “I wish I was with you.” You whispered, hating everything, hating this town, hating the people, hating Fred Benson, hating Carol, hating Laura Cunningham, hating how your mom wasn’t alive, hating how the one person you’d unknowingly sought for comfort was someone you’d never met before who was six feet under the ground. And you hated how you weren’t down there.

  You laid there, hugging his tombstone for hours under the thunder and lightning as the PCP slowly left your system.

  When you were able to stand up on your own, you gave the tombstone another kiss, rested your forehead against it and quietly thanked him for helping you find your way home before you left, following the path you’d made during all of your visits.

  The house was quiet when you got in, and Chrissy’s car hadn’t been parked in the driveway when you’d walked up so you figured she was still at the party. Sluggishly, you made your way up the stairs, falling into your shared bathroom. Your hand searched the wall, struggling to find the switch. Once your fingertips made contact with it, you flipped it and squinted as the room was flooded with the warm light. It was still too much for your eyes but you kept it on and walked towards the mirror

  The girl looking back at you was not the same one you’d last seen in it. This girl had blue smudged all around her eyes, faint trails of it over her cheeks and a rats nest for hair. Her eyes burned, not from the light, but from a fury within. 

  She was stuck in a life she didn’t want to live and couldn’t do anything about. As a large strike of lightning flashed from the window positioned at the back of the bathroom, towards the back of the house, you decided to put her out of her misery, picking up a blow dryer and smashing it against your reflection with a yell.

  You stood there, chest heaving as you stared at the broken reflection. Then you tossed the blow dryer onto the counter, and went to bed.

  Your dreams were much more pleasant than your reality, eyelids fluttering open to the ceiling of your old bedroom. A glance to your side confirmed your mother’s photo was at your bedside, next to your alarm clock on your old bedside table.

  “Well?” Her photo asked, shooting you that gorgeous smile of hers, “What are you waiting for? Go get him.”

  Your confusion was momentary, your mother raised her chin in a direction and you knew what would happen, you were giddy for it as you looked down to see yourself wrapped in the most beautiful wedding gown you’d ever seen.

  You rose from the bed into a sitting position, picking up the bouquet on the pillow next to you. Your dresser mirror was directly across from your bed and you took a moment to admire the beautiful girl staring back at you. Where you last remember seeing trails of tears were diamonds, glittering against your skin. Her eyes sparkled with a joy you’d never known. You bid her one last smile as you turned your head to the figure sitting on the edge of your bed, dark curls cascading down his neck, past broad shoulders with his back to you. 

  His right arm was out, palm up.

  He was waiting for you.

  You shifted until you were on the edge of your bed next to him, staring straight forward just as he was.

  Without looking, you knew exactly where his hand was, and you placed your left one over it, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. Slowly, the two of you leaned towards each other, until your head was on his shoulder and his cheek was pressed against the top of your head, his fingers curling around your hand to ground you. You sighed, all the tension and weight of the world leaving you.

  “Sissy. . .”

  “Sissy…”

  “SISSY!”

  You groaned as Chrissy shook you awake, eyes prying through all the mascara that had crusted over your eyes. It took a couple of blinks until you regained your clear vision, gaze locking on Chrissy leaning over you. Her face was clean of any makeup, skin glowing and hair wrapped up in rollers.

  She’d gotten home later than you and had still been able to look perfect. 

  What the hell?

  “You better get up, sissy. My mom’s losing it over the bathroom mirror.”

  You were confused for a second until you remembered smashing it with a blow dryer last night—or this morning. Well, it definitely would have broken at the sight of you now, anyways. 

  You frowned but made no move to get up so Chrissy tugged your blanket off of you, giggling when the both of you realized you had your hand in your underwear. Hastily, you yanked it out, and threw the blankets back over yourself.

  “It’s okay, Sissy. Everyone does it. It’s natural.”

  “Oh my god…”

  “So, what happened last night to bring this on?” She wiggled her eyebrows and you stared at her for a second. Part of you wanted to yell at her, berate her for letting you stumble around while high on a drug you’d never taken before, the other half knew in Chrissy’s World, it was all rainbows and sunshine—at least, it had been since she’d forced her mother to respect her boundaries. Chrissy didn’t expect the worst in anyone, didn't expect anyone to take advantage of you and certainly didn't expect you to wind up walking to the cemetery and then home on a bad trip. No, in Chrissy’s World, you’d probably spent the night flirting with someone, probably Steve, maybe fooled around in his car before he drove you home.

  You didn’t see it necessary to shatter her world so you groaned instead, the full force of your migraine hitting you now that you were out of sleep’s clutches, and covered your hands with your face.

  “Ooh, your knees…”

  You glanced down to see what she was staring at and sure enough, your knees were scratched up from kneeling at Eddie’s grave, but in Chrissy’s World…

  “I fell.” Was the only excuse you could come up with and Chrissy smirked.

  “Me, too.” Her eyelid dropped in a wink just as Laura yelled upstairs for you, so, begrudgingly, you wrapped yourself in your robe and headed downstairs to receive your punishment.

  Just as you suspected, Laura had attacked you with allegations—that were true for once, you had smashed the bathroom mirror—and your dad looked like he could care less.

  “You know,” She stated, fixing you with those unnaturally blue eyes of hers, “Your dad wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt. See the good in you, but I knew. I’m an Intuitive Person, you know. An IP. They’ve got seminars for people like me.”

  Your mind flashed to How to Handle a Narcissist. 

  “Laura…” Your dad warned and Laura inhaled sharply, displeased that your dad was sticking up for you. For once. 

  “Did you know there was a tornado last night? It hailed. Wind blew the fence over. The yard is covered in debris, and now I have to focus on repairing the bathroom, too. I don’t think that’s fair.” She huffed and Chrissy spoke up from her place on the couch.

  “It was a tornado watch, mom. Not a real tornado.”

  “Actually, Chris, the weather was downright crazy last night. I mean, it was really something, I saw green lightning. Big balls of it in the sky.”

  You and Chrissy shared secret smiles at hearing your dad talk about big balls.

  “Love muffin, could you swap out being a weatherman for being a father, right now?” Laura gritted out through her chemically whitened teeth.

  “It’s a Meteorologist,” You mumbled and her head snapped over to glare at you before she was speaking to your father again.

  “Honey, your daughter is a vandal. She’s got a taste for vandalism, and she is deliberately vandalizing and destroying property. First, it was my collection of Precious Moments figurines─”

  “That was an accident, you didn’t wrap them in bubble wrap and I dropped the box when I tripped over the front steps.”

  “Mother,” Chrissy chided, hands crossing over her robe. “Be. Nice.”

  “I am being nice,” Laura hissed, glare never leaving you, “But I refuse to coddle her. She’s headed straight to the nut house with this behavior.”

  You frowned, wiping away some of the dried mascara under your eye, “Can you say that if you’re a Psych Nurse?”

  Laura had the decency to look embarrassed before whacking your father’s arm. He sighed, putting his newspaper down, “Sweetheart─”

  You clocked the twitch in Laura’s eyelid at the affectionate name your father used to refer to you.

  “─You’re gonna clean your bathroom, alright? Sweep up all that glass.”

  ”And?” Laura pushed, still staring at you.

  “And…..um. Pay for the mirror, I guess.” Laura turned her nose up, hurmphing. 

  “That’s fine, can I get ready for work now?”

  Your dad nodded and Laura looked like she wanted to protest but you turned your back to her and made your way upstairs, hesitating at the top when your fathered turned the volume of the TV back on and you heard the news reporter reporting from the cemetery, talking about a grave, under a tree, that had been struck by lightning. 

  You wondered if it had been Eddie’s. There’s no way you’d be able to check today, you’d get home from work too late, so you’d have to check tomorrow.

  You tried to stay busy during your shift at the local tailor’s. You didn’t really have a passion for it, but you were relatively good with a needle and thread. With the magnifier headlamp, you were practically unstoppable, altering coats, dresses, blouses, shirts, all with minimal finger injuries—though luminol on some of these clothing items would no doubt reveal traces of your blood.

  But hey—you now knew what it meant to work so hard you put your blood into something and you always had band-aids on you, in case anyone needed one.

  You were so invested in your work, you hadn’t heard the bell above the door chime when it was pushed open, and didn’t notice Steve leaning against the counter, watching you work until he cleared his throat.

  You jumped, head swinging around to see your crush smiling at you and you raised the magnifying glass portion of the head lamp off your face, feeling embarrassed that he’d seen you with the headgear on in the first place.

  “Hey! I didn’t know you worked here.”

  You let out some nervous laughter, mind racing for ways to make this seem cool but you came up short. “Yeah, I—employed.”

  “I can see that,” He chuckled, amused by your lack of verbal sparring.

  You didn’t know what to say after that so you stared, fingers twisting and pulling the thread you’d been working with, desperate for him to say something or get out.

  “Oh! Uh, I heard you guys also get rid of stains? I’ve got this one on my pan─”

  “THAT WE DO!” 

  You sighed, eyes slipping shut as your moron of a boss came bursting out of the office.

  “What can we do for you, Harrington?” Murray asked, leaning against the counter, causing Steve to lean back, smile now less than thrilled.

  “Murray…I forgot you worked here.” Steve said it in a voice that made you think he would have avoided the shop had he known who it was that was currently in charge of running it.

  “Yup, got me this sweet little gig. And no radios.” He gestured around to the shop, void of any technology save for the cash register—and he made sure it was never him operating it, “Would like to see the government try to control me now.”

  “Right, I just came here to drop off my pants, spilled something on—well, it doesn’t really matter, I just spilled something on them.” Steve placed the folded pair of pants on the counter and Murray immediately unfolded them, searching through the fabric until he found the stain by his crotch. To both your horror and Steve’s, he lifted the strained fabric to his nose, sniffing deep.

  “Mm. White wine?”

  It took Steve a moment to find his voice and close his jaw, “Crush. The soda.”

  “Same thing. We’ll get this right out, my man.”

  You and Steve shared one more look of disbelief before he slowly backed away, the bell above the door sounding as he left.

  “He’s a nice guy,” Murray commented and you shrugged your shoulders, wanting this conversation to be over, “I’m surprised you know him, little loser.”

  You shot him a glare.

  “Oh, c’mon, lets not pretend you’ve got an active social life—if I call you in for a shift, you’re available. Nothing wrong with being a loser. I was one throughout high school and look at me now. Who got the last laugh?”

  You were positive the look of pain on your face should have told Murray that anyone other than him got the last laugh. He was a forty something year old, afraid of technology, convinced the government was watching him, who tried to befriend teenagers. 

  You’d have to kill yourself if you were anything like him.

  When he disappeared back into the office, because of course you’d have to get rid of that stain for Steve, you snatched the pair of pants off the counter. Glancing around to make sure there weren’t any eyes on you, you pressed them to the side of your face, imagining yourself hugging Steve instead of the pants. They smelled like him. It was bliss.

  Then your eyes snapped open.

  Oh, god. You were a loser.

  After your shift, you’d gone straight home. Normally, you’d stop to grab a bite or something, you still had to pay for the mirror you broke so fast food was off the table for a couple of weeks, but on your dining room table when you walked into the house.

  A pizza box. Your stomach growled as you imagined the slice of cheese waiting for you.

  “Is there any left?” You asked, already making a beeline for it.

  “Should be a slice left,” Your dad mused and as you tossed the top of it open, all you wanted to do was maybe beat him with it.

  There, on the parchment liner of the pizza box, was the skinniest and tiniest slice of pizza to ever be cut. Not even the width of two of your fingers.

  “Want me to order another one, sweetheart?” Your dad asked and Laura immediately inserted herself into the conversation. 

  “She can eat it, love muffin. Besides, we’ve got vegetables in the fridge if she’s still not full.”

  “I said we should have ordered two, but my mom had a coupon she wanted to use.” Chrissy didn’t sound impressed.

  “Yes, we got a free soda!”

  Chrissy ignored her mom, “Sissy, we’re going to the movies! You could get something there, they sell pizza and nachos, right?”

  You knew she was trying to find a solution for you, but your bullshit meter for the day had already been capped. You didn’t want movie theater pizza or concessions, you wanted a  reasonable slice of this pizza, not some scrap your step-mother had saved you. It was obvious she was implying that she, your dad and Chrissy were the perfect sized family and you were simply an afterthought. Unwelcome.

  “Yeah, I’m passing on the movie.”

  Before you could stomp upstairs, Chrissy caught your hand.

  “Sissy, please? We’ve got to bond as a family, it’s crucial. If it takes two, how can I do it as one?” She pulled you into her side.

  “Really, Chrissy, I’m super tired.”

  “You’re tired?” Laura asked, incredulous. Here we go again.

  “All you do is work with a sewing machine for hours like some old spinster, I can hardly imagine that being tiring, but my Chrissy just got back from a five hour long cheer practice. They were throwing her around like raggedy ann and she stuck every landing.” 

  “Mom, stop.” Chrissy blushed, but you could see how proud she was of herself, “I’m sure Sissy pokes herself with those needles all the time, and it hurts, I’ve been prodded myself during all of my custom fittings.”

  “I have finger calluses so I don’t even bleed anymore,” You begrudgingly admitted, “I can take it.”

  “I bet you can.”

  After they’d left for the movies, you’d gone upstairs, showered, put on your comfiest pajamas and fuzziest slippers, you grabbed a bowl of chips and set yourself up in front of the TV to watch Dawn of the Dead. You had to give props to all these zombie actors, you couldn’t imagine having to act out being one of the walking undead, imagined it felt pretty stupid but the paycheck and experience must have been cool.

  You popped another chip into your mouth just as someone knocked on the front door. As you placed the bowl of chips on the table to get up, the knocking got louder, more aggressive and you hesitated, fear beginning to swell up inside of you.

  Maybe if you ignored it, they’d go away.

  You turned your attention back to the tv, picking up the remote to lower the volume and hopefully hide your presence in the house. 

  Then, much to your horror, you heard the distinct sound of a pained, gurgling groan. It sounded very similar to the ones you’d heard the zombies making on your tv, but this one was louder. 

  And it was coming from outside your front door.

  You crouched, duckwalking to the foyer where one of the house phones was placed. You’d just picked it up from the receiver when a shadow from the living room window caught your eye. You barely had time to turn your head when something came crashing through it, breaking the glass and yanking the curtains from the rod.

  Shocked, the phone slipped from your hands, banging against the hardwood floor of the foyer and you let out a scream at the same time as the person on your TV, running away from the figure invading your home. 

  You made it to the dinning room. Literally scrambling across the table to put an obstacle between you and the stranger—no, creature. Tall, caked in mud, leaves and stems, it resembled the Swamp Thing. It grunted, groans low and reverberating off the walls.

  “Uuuhhhnng…”

  This couldn’t be happening to you, you couldn’t die like this!!!! It was supposed to be by your hand or nothing!

  ”STAY AWAY FROM ME!” You shrieked, picking up the decorative plates from the table to throw at the creature. You nailed it a couple of times, watching it stumble as the fine china shattered against it. When you ran out of plates, you bolted from the dinning room, screaming as you scrambled up the stairs, and lost one of your slippers in the process but to hell with it! You had to get out of there. Hopefully, one of your neighbors heard your shrieks of terror and called the police.

  You peaked over the railing at the top of the stairs, to see the creature analyzing your slipper. While it was distracted, you locked yourself in your room and made your way to your bedroom window, pulling it open.

  “Okay, okay. I can do this, no big deal. Stunt actors do it all the time.” You climbed outside of your window, body nearly convulsing as you almost slipped down the roof, “Nonononono.”

  You tried to grip onto a couple of shingles but they gave away, slipping right off the house to shatter against the concrete walkway and you realized Laura had no fucking idea what she was doing when it came to house repairs, the dumb bitch had just laid the shingles out without securing them.

  “OH MY GOD-I’M GONNA DIE! HELP!”

  Your body slipped further down the roofing, until you were forced to grab the gutter, gagging when your fingers squelched against whatever was in it. You dangled a good six feet off the ground, and while it wasn’t exactly a ten story fall, with your luck, you’d land on your head and break your neck.

  Whimpering, you tried to pull yourself back up the roof, but it was no use. You had nothing stable to grab onto as you yanked yet another shingle clean off. You glared at it and muttered a goddammit before tossing it somewhere behind you as you went back to hanging on for dear life. 

  “Oh, no.” You mumbled, terrified as your fingertips began to lose their grip, wet with the mystery sludge from the gutter. “No, NO!” 

  You lost your grip, plummeting down but you didn’t meet the concrete. No, the Creature broke your fall and you were now face to face with it. The pressure of you landing on it, made it spit up into your face, green sludge, and you gasped before breaking out into screams again.

  Pushing yourself up and off of it as you ran around your front yard, nearly blind. You were not opening your eyes to let that bacteria infested swamp slime, water, whatever the hell it was, into your eyeballs. 

  You could hear the Creature stomping around behind you as you bobbed and weaved, could feel his presence and you could not believe you were actually gonna die fighting off a swamp monster in your front yard while blinded—in clear and plain view for your neighbors to see, by the way, and unbeknownst to you, an elderly couple was watching you, not even a little concerned about your well being or the creature chasing you around.

  “Stop it!”

  “Leave me alone!”

  “Go away, I’m just a girl!”

  The timed sprinklers went off and you were soon assaulted with them as well. With just about all your senses done for, and the sprinklers washing the guck away from your face, you made a run for the house, slamming your back against the door and locking it behind you.

  Your chest was heaving, wet body pumping with adrenaline as the back of your head thumped against the door. You weren’t done yet. That creature was still out there!!!

  You dove for the phone on the ground, hanging by its springy cord and shouted out hopefully loud enough for it to hear, “I’m calling the police, so if you don’t want your ass riddled with bullets, I’d suggest you leave! They shoot before asking questions!”

  You frantically dialed 911 but there was no ringing, instead, you could still hear buttons being pressed on the other line.

  Bleak, and accepting your fate, you put the phone back on the receiver, and turned towards the living room, where the other phone was located. 

  On the chair, next to where the table the phone normaly rested on, was The Creature. 

  You grabbed one of the lamps, ready to use it as a weapon but it didn’t attack you, just turned the phone receiver this way and that, as if admiring it. 

  Despite your fear, you took a reluctant step forward, casting the creature in the glow of the lamp you clutched and for like the billionth time that night, you gasped.

  The sprinklers had washed some of the filth off of it, too. Before, its head had been caked in a mud helmet, but now, you could actually see it’s head. It had long, disgustingly dirty curls, and wore a leather jacket, jeans and tennis shoes, all covered in grime.

  When it craned its head up to look at you, you readied the lamp, poised to throw it at it—him. It was a guy. Big brown eyes, stared up at you and he made no move to attack.

  Slowly, you lowered the lamp, and crouched down a few feet away.

  His attention returned to the phone—shoe shaped—in his hands and shakily, with stiff limbs, he put it back on the receiver.

  “It’s…It’s cool looking, right? The-The shoe phone.” 

  He glanced over at you and then the phone again as you mumbled out an explanation, 

“Our neighbor in our old town cheated on his wife and she threw all his stuff out the window at him and my dad snatched the phone.”

  “Merrrruhhhhh.” He moaned out, picking up your slipper and offering it to you. When you just stared, he dropped it and you moved the lamp to the side, crossing your legs.

  “I’ve never seen a zombie before.” You marveled, then squinted, “You are a zombie, right? An undead?”

  It took him an entire minute to choppily raise his shoulders, you realized he was shrugging. Or trying to. Every movement he made was choppy. Reminded you of how stop motion was made, except his scenes weren’t being played fast enough to have fluid movements.

  He tried to get up and promptly slipped, accidentally elbowing the mini sound system at his side. It turned on, Sinead O’Connor’s Drink Before the War playing. You’d been the last to use it.

  You watched as his head tilted in interest as Sinead began to croon out lyrics.

  “Do you like music? This is Sinead O’Connor. She makes music that heals souls.”

  He raised his wrist to his chest and you inhaled sharply as you realized he was missing the hand on it.

  “Uhm, no—I don’t think she healed your soul. I meant like, figuratively. Her music makes people feel.” You placed your hands on your own chest, trying to convey your meaning, “She’s one of my favorites.”

  A surprisingly comforting silence fell over the two of you—though he sometimes made his quiet dead guy gross sounds—as you stared at him, taking in the green-gray tint of his skin beneath the dirt all over him, cheeks sunken in. You had a feeling if you touched his skin, it’d be hard, maybe waxy and it was a bit unnerving how human his eyes were, but duh! Of course they were, he was a human. Just. A dead one. At least he wasn’t a skeleton.

  Man, Hollywood wasn’t too far off with their interpretation.

  “C’mon,” You stood up, eyes taking in the state of your home and all the dirt the two of you had dragged in, “I gotta hide you, new dead friend.”

[naok-iyuu]

Love is about details - Zed Necrodopolis x fem!reader

Summary : On a Halloween night, you meet a boy that will soon become your best friend. Until feelings get in the way.

word count : 8.2k

My masterlist ! No major warnings, just reader having an existential crisis mid fic and Zed being a golden retriever.

(Autor's note) : I AM FINALLY ALIIIVVEEE !!! I am soo lazy, I've struggled so much to finish this one. And even when I get ideas, I always end up with those blank page syndrome or with too much drafts on my account.

I hope this fanfic will be liked by some of you, I don't really know where I was going at some point but I couldn't bring myself to delete and do something else ahah. I wanted to do a small fic... Well it ended up with 8k words. ENJOY!!

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You never believed in love at first sight. Hell you even thought it was the most stupid thing the world ever created to entertain Terrians. Maybe you could be really attracted to someone at first sight, because ‘gorgeous’, surely, would be the first word coming to your mind while crossing path someone like Joshua Bassett. But to truly fell in love, you should be able to remember their eye color and describe it as something precious. Or so you thought.

Your first encounter with the boy you would fell in love with was on Halloween. Your friend group thought it would be funny to cross Seabrook’s border to enter Zombietown, something about showing each other that you weren’t chicken-hearted. A stupid teenage idea.

You weren’t interested in those things, but you followed your bestfriend who was a total lab nerd that would smash the Seabrook barrier to see a real zombie outside of your school. Natural habitat analysis thingy going on in her head.

It didn’t last long though, each and every person looked every two seconds behind them and jumped at every street common noise their hears caught.

They finally all went running back to the so called ‘normal side’ when a zombie, woman, screamed at them from the other side of the road. The sound as surprised you so much that your body frooze instantly. Your heart started beating even faster when the door near you suddenly oppened rapidly, making you jump and gasp.

Your eyes met one of a boy, it was easy enought to discern the surprised and concerned look on his face, his gaze looking strangly at you. You were disguised as a zombie for Halloween, well, the kind of zombie filmakers showed in their movies. Torn clothes, messy hair, pale skin with a lot of scars. Not really looking like the young zombie you had in front of you. Green hair styled with skills you surely did not have, grunge clothes, but a nice call on the pale skin.

"What are you doing here ?" His words came out skeptical, for what on earth would a human be on the wrong side of the wall. Well, there was Halloween of course, but nobody ever had the courage to come here.

He had caught on your dressing up, you were a convincing enought zombie for normal people, but not for a zombie apparently. He could admit that your make up was impressive, those scars looked real.

"Hm… Well with Halloween going on, my friends came to scare themself."

His eyebrows raised when you answered him. He was more prepared to receive a scream followed by one of the biggest sprint he’ll ever see. He looked from left to right, but found nothing other than his old, moldy town. "Seems like they got scared, right ?"

His conclusion got a chuckle out of your lips and you nodded your head, looking in the direction your friends took a run for their life. In the back of your mind, you thought about the fact they totally forgot to look out for you. They would be hearing about it for at least the next 10 years. "Yeah, they completely took a run for it."

Your eyes met his again, the situation was quite awkward. For him taking in the sight of a human in front of his house, and for you, who, for the love of the sky above, couldn’t even move to end this nightmare. "I should… Probably get going."

Your eyes lost their way on the scenery around, thinking that you should go home before everyone calls the police to get you out. Your parents would lose their head if they knew something had happened to you. You finally found in you the energy to move a foot when his hesitant voice stopped you.

"Can I ask for your name ?"

You turned around, returning to the spot you were so eager to leave. It took you a few seconds again to gather your thoughts. He wasn’t the one responsible for the fact you were right in front of his door, just stairs away from him. Maybe you were just disturbed by how calm you actually were. You were going to blame the Halloween effect on this one, green haired people weren’t that weird and scary compared to some costume people came up with.

"Huh yeah. I am Y/n." A breeze stopped your own question to let your name simmer in the air. The fact being that you were two people trying to get each other names after a weird encounter and not a girl and a zombie in that very moment felt like something you shouldn’t be allowed to do. Zombies were still hated by your people, they haven’t stopped talking trash about them even when they got welcomed in your school. Change must be scary for humans.

"And you ?" His own mouth went dry, maybe from the exact same fact you realised or from his father's voice hurrying him inside. His words got stuck for a time more, remembering his own name and yours.

"Zed. I am Zed Necrodopolis." He nodded to himself, at least he didn’t mispelled it nor hesitated too much. Zed was friendly to everyone, even when he started his first year at Seabrook high. Yet, having an intruder in Zombie Town had taken him aback, that was quite the shocker. He tried to remember if he ever saw you at school. No, he surely hasn’t… has he ?

A wave of your hand paused his thoughts. He waved goodbye back, looking at your silhouette. Once you were far enough and his father's voice loud enough, he came back inside his sweet little home.

Another idea occurred, did you even know where you were going ?

. . .

The few other encounters were less awkward.

After a good scare endured by your friends who thought you had been devoured by a thousand zombies, deserved. You had to go back to school, tossing aside your friend questions about how the zombie you talked to looked like, smelled like, dressed up like. You couldn’t remember a single thing, just a bunch of green hair that could be seen all around the school now. Or maybe, you just didn’t really want to talk about it.

You crossed paths with him, between classes and lunches. Both too hesitant to talk and too distracted by your talkative friends. You had waved, waved, and waved again at each other. He noticed how you would only use your right hand to greet him, and you acknowledged how dark colors were the ones that suited him most. Your wavery earned a gasp from your bestfriend and a side angry eye from the zombie girl following Zed around.

. . .

Grabbing the library table, your friend looked at you with the biggest eyes possible. "It was Zed Necrodopolis ?" Her voice whispered in disbelief.

She had finally noticed your wavering habits with the zombie after seeing him near the lockers on your way to the library, when you already had done it 10 times today.

You frowned, moving slightly your head like something would jump on you if you moved too much. "You know him ?"

She shook her head with her mouth open in shock, her eyes rolled back in her head. "He’s the one zombie who got into the football team ! Do you live under a rock ?"

"Since you forgot me back in Zombietown, yes. I feel much more secure." You slid your joke with a thin smile and a raise of your features to make your point and annoy her.

She breathed a quiet laugh in your direction with a smile. She was ready to get back at you when a voice interrupted her.

"Hi, sorry to disturb you both, can we sit here ?"

You two looked up from your conversation, locking your eyes with the ones you couldn’t escape even if you tried. Schools aren’t that big after all. Zed was standing here, a zombie girl clearly angry and a taller zombie boy with the biggest smile right next to him.

Your mouth oppened and closed a few times, your words hiding themself in the back of your throat instead of helping you in creating a sentence. You turned to your best friend and saw her eyes popped out of her face, her mouth wide open enough to swallow at least 3 whole families of flies. Her eyes stared in your direction, her face not moving an inche from her surprised and excited features. You didn’t need to ask for her permission, she would beg you to say yes. Slightly nervous, you faced Zed again who was waiting for you with a gentle smile.

"Yeah of course." You slided your chair closer to your wide eyed friend next to you to let the three zombies sit on the three available chair.

When they sat down, silence followed. Zed, who sat on your other side, looked at you with shy eyes. Something that cringed the girl with a messy bun. He discretly waved hello to you, a ritual that seemed to please him more than you could imagine. You waved back discretly, the tiniest ‘hi’ falling from your lips to greet him. His eyes quickly caught the color of your pencil case, f/c. Somehow, he felt like he could have guessed this as your favorite color.

A sigh caught everyone attention and the green haired girl crossed her arms. "Why are we even here ?"

Zed was quick to quiet down any fight he thought could happen due to his friend being grumpy and the two humans girls feeling hurt by her words. "To say Hi." He caught both your attention, introducing his friends. "This is Eliza, don’t mind her she is getting used to human, still. And this is my buddy Bonzo."

Bonzo smile grew even bigger, showing all of his teeth as he raised his hand to say what seemed to be a ‘hello’ or a ‘nice to meet you’ in zombie. Phrased by some ‘zogzigzargzog’, or maybe it was ‘zigzagzargzogzarg’, you couldn’t remember.

"What did he said ?!" Your friend high pitched voice surprised everyone, she was quick to react to Bonzo words. Her hand was nearly breaking her pen by squeazing it too much, her other hand flipping pages of a new notebook you had never seen.

"That’s Lucile. Sorry about her she just really loves zombies for some reasons..." You tried to ease their surprise by introducing your highly excited best friend who seemed to live her biggest dream.

"That’s completely fine." Surprisingly, his words gently eased your mind. Maybe handling both girls wouldn’t be that hard. "He said ‘pleasure to meet you both’. "

You heard her excited gasp before she started writing what she heard. How could she even remember what the other boy said ?

"I only wrote what I heard but could you check ?" Her question was more of an affirmation as she slided her notebook right into Zed’s hands, passing it in front of you. He was careful not to disturb your work while grabbing the book.

His dark orbs looked at you with an amused grin before asking for a pencil, which Lucile gladly and almost throwed at him in a hurry. Getting a scared ‘Jesus !’ from you. "You heard it right, but if I may, here’s the zombie way of writing it."

When he handed it back to her, you were sure she was going to explode on the spot. "You guys have a whole different alphabet to speak zombie ?!"

Zed seemed proud of her reaction, he was cute. You could see in the corner of your eyes Eliza slowly relaxing herself. Maybe she had been worried that you would be as mean as the cheerleaders when they first arrived.

"And twenty-three different ways to write the word ‘brain’. " His head nooded to her in affirmation.

"Oh my god this is awesome ! If you guys can teach me all about it somedays, I want to know everything !"

"We’ll be glad, right ?" He turned to his friends. Bonzo cheered with his usual bright smile while Eliza shrugged her shoulders, mumbling a 'why not'.

You smiled at them, happy that everyone seemed to get quite along for a first encounter. You felt like you didn’t know how to act around Zed, for a fact, you didn’t know each other except for those stolen hi’s after all. You could say that socializing wasn’t really something you were good at.

Zed seemed to notice your shyness, maybe he could help you by showing his friendly side. "Your friend seems great. She’s funny."

You looked up to see his brown eyes looking at you. For some reasons, you were sure that that one sunray directed right to his left eye was there on purpose. "Yeah, she’s the best."

Zed had made the first step toward you, hoping to see bloom a friendship between the fake zombie girl he had seen on his doorstep and himself.

Mainly thanks to Lucile and her inconditional love for zombies, she got the three of them to stay at your table for an hour.

. . .

Day after day, you were gradually seen hanging out with Zed and his crew along with Lucile more and more. Forming a lovely mixed group of five.

You opened up slowly, and conversation started to feel more natural once you knew each zombie better. You didn’t need Zed’s help anymore to feel comfortable, your questionable jokes already sliding in each and every sentence you could form.

Bonzo and Eliza seemed to like you both, even if you couldn’t communicate with the taller boy. You still found ways to understand him and he did the same. Eliza and Lucile both fell for their nerd side, not looking like total polar opposite anymore. Eliza being a zombie was Lucile fuel for knowledge and Lucile being always impressed by Eliza knowledge and technology made her feel understood.

Fast enought, without anyone questioning or noticing it, every single second you could spend glued to Zed became your mission number one every day. You had your routines, your habits, and somehow in the mist of it all, the jocks found his way to be your new and unique routine.

The same could be said for him. Even if Zed would never be ruled by any routines, having you and Lucile gang up with Eliza and Bonzo went from something nice to his essential. Even when the group couldn’t be together, the boy always found his way to you and you to him. He somehow quickly noticed your love for quiet places and books, which made it easier to find you. You were, too, quick to find Zed everytime you were looking for him. His loud voice and love for football were easy enough to spot in every room he could be in.

Free hours in school were spend in his company, lunches were eaten right next to him just so you could mock his choice of food, and you surprised yourself with even seeing him on weekends. Zombies had won freedom for their own actions, seeing your friends was now a piece of cake. You started with simple hang outs with everyone to going to Zed’s house, him to yours, and even to include ice cream rituals in town. You could never be thankful enough for those, especially for the coach's peanut butter n’ bones ice cream.

Your parents never saw you out of the house this often, you could even say that your mom had started to grow a soft spot for the green haired jock. Something you would have gladly erased from your memories if not for those family meal where his name seemed to always end up in.

. . .

That’s why you never believed in love at first sight. For you, you had to know the person, hang out with them and remember everything special about them. You could never have fallen in love by just seeing Zed for the first time next to his crusty door. You believed that love was about details. And this belief would be the one hitting you full speed right in the guts.

. . .

"How can you say that zombies have different eye colors ? They are all bloody brown !" Lucile hands fell on her thighs, smacking them in the process with exasperation.

Your best friend sitting on your bed had talked about her zombie knowledge again for the past twenty minutes, a knowledge you had started to be really interested in recently. She’ll never mention it, but it surprised her when you suddenly asked about their language, culture and even tradition.

You knew a bunch, thanks to your zombies buddies, but Lucile was a goldmine of information. If you wanted to know anything without sounding too weird or suspicious, you knew she was your best option.

Today’s new debate started when Lucile talked about physical differences between zombies, noticing how all hairs weren't exactly the same shade of green. However, she had maintained her statement about their eyes being only a very dark brown.

"No they are not. There are different shades too." You contradicted her again, looking at her notes and judging some of them as enormous lies, just the hater you were.

"Okay, give me an exemple." She moved her hand to invite you to elaborate your point of view, obviously curious to know why you were so reactive to this fact and not any other ones.

"It’s true that Bonzo and Eliza have dark eyes, but Zed doesn’t."

"Oh he does."

"No he does not." You looked at the ceiling, starting to feel frustrated. You let Lucile’s zombies notebook fall on your bed right in front of you both. You chewed your bottom lip before speaking again, your eyes looking at every detail of your room and not at your best friend, who’s gaze didn’t leave you for a second. "Zed’s… Well his eyes are slightly the same color as milk chocolate, only a little darker I'll give you that. And when the sun hits them, they glow with this orangy brown color… Like those pictures you find when typing ‘autumn forest’ on google. Seriously, it’s funny when you think about it."

You looked at your fingers, not giving more thoughts to what you just said. Lucile though, looked at you like you were talking crazy. Her famous wide open mouth and her frowned eyebrows couldn’t believe what she just heard. She knew what you thought about boys or romance, luckily her brain was quick to connect the dots. You always talked about details, for you, love should be remembering their eye color and describing it as something precious. You once told her.

She silenced her gasp, finally understanding why you changed so much recently and why zombies suddenly got your interest when you couldn’t care less before. She never gave second thoughts about your relation with Zed, you both were really good friends who liked to hang out often, if not every single day. (Weird ) And friends who, she thought, were glued by the hips like twins would. But maybe this closeness, at a point in time, crossed a line even you haven’t noticed.

"Pause Y/n, Pause." The sudden seriousness in her tone made you perk up from your nail analysis. You had never seen a face like that on her. It made you overthink the words you have just spoken, could you had said something wrong ?

"Did you heard yourself ?"

"W-What ?"

"I am not angry, nor frustrated, nor scolding you." She tried to easy your mind. "I am only asking, did you heard yourself ?"

"What ? That Zed’s eyes looks like dumb autumn forest pictures ?"

She nodded slowly, biting both her lips in a thin line. "Can you now remind me what you always said about remembering someone’s eyes color."

You felt as if your brain spun on itself and gave your whole body a warning sign while ringing simultaneously the biggest bell that could exist. You gasped loudly, your hands flying fast to cover your mouth. "You are shitting me."

"YOU are shitting me ! Since when ?"

You stood up from your bed, realization striking you. You felt the air becoming colder in your lungs with your heart beating crazier than when it’s an exam day. Your hands felt cold, than hot, than cold, than hot again. You looked back at Lucile who was just as surprised as you, just less freaked out.

"I don’t know ! Oh god it’s bad." You were starting to feel too freaked out by this new revelation. Luckily, the scent of your room and being a calm person on a daily basis helped you step out of your mind roller coaster faster.

"I mean, you always go out together. Maybe that made it harder to notice."

Another, but tiniest, gasp escaped you. "We have an ice cream thingy tomorrow." Lucile could hear tiny ‘it’s bad’ coming from you and ‘oh god’ ‘s.

"I never undertood that ritual, every week ? Ice cream ?"

"You’re right, I am calling in sick. " You were ready to grab your phone when she snatched it away.

"First, we are going to talk about this, analyze things and won’t freak out, okay ? It is not as bad as it looks."

"I am not that freaked out, and yes it is bad. Not falling for your, other, best friend is like an unbreakable rule."

"So you are in love with Zed ?"

"I absolutely did not say that."

The girl frowned again, even with your calm demeanor you stayed in a total denial mindset. You always loved romance, but it seemed like it wasn’t the thing you were expecting to crash into your life right now. Or maybe your weren’t expecting to fall for Zed. She stretched out her hand for you to take, encouraging you to come back on the bed. You sighed, taking it before sitting back on your bed, a light sadness building in your chest.

"Can we talk about zombies culture instead ?"

"If you want, but before we’re going to dig into that little heart attack moment you just had."

"It’s just… Like I said, we’ve been like best friends lately and I just feel like I am betraying him." Your eyes met hers, a sad expression painting your features. "It’s like I am asking too much out of him. We’re friends, and now feelings get in the way and I’ll start acting weird because now I am aware of it. And what if I get even more into my head and he just feels weirded out, rejects me of some sort. I still want to hang out with him."

"Wow you got the time to think about all of that in just a minute ?" Her sentence teared the tiniest chuckle out of your lips. Lucile squeezed your hand, trying to keep you grounded in any ways she could. "I think you should be kinder to yourself. It happens to fall for friends, even if it changes things, ultimately. It is not a bad thing."

"Why him though … ?" Your question was more of a frustrated and sulking sentence to show how surprised you were.

She laughed. "I should ask you girl !"

And you followed her laughter. Maybe you got ahead of yourself and got slightly carried away by the new realisation, just maybe. You talked a bit more with Lucile, and you were thankful for her patience and the way she understood your point of view. Even if she thought that Zed looked like a very green and moldy potato, which made you laugh. She even teased you by saying how your mom would be happy to hear the news, making you grunt another slight laugh.

You knew the boy for nearly a year now, blossoming feelings shouldn’t be surprising when you knew deep down how good he looked. Getting to know each other and your souls clicking together like you just lost a thousand years finding the person that could make you spit out your whole stomach laughing along with flipping your whole mood upside down with just a word should have been a warning sign. You had fallen in love with Zed Nerodopolis.

. . .

The next day went smoothly, even if you had to mentally scold yourself every now and then because you kept looking at Zed for no reasons. You tried to brush your new feelings off, acting like usual with maybe less confidence.

He noticed, and you hopped it was just once. "Do I have some ice cream left on my face ?" A finger pointed toward his face, he stared at you.

"Nop. Not at all."

"Oh, I thought. Since you can’t stop staring." You caught on his teasing tone, his smile already trying to get under your skin just so you would say something back to him.

Usually, you would have laughed and made fun of him for suspecting you of staring. But now, all his sentences and smirks did were increasing your heartbeat and wished that your cheeks haven’t turned a deeper shade of red.

. . .

The next week at school, you thought you were doing a good job at hiding anything your heart was begging to let out. You denied with force the fact you avoided your usual safe spots to study or read, knowing full well Zed would be waiting or searching for you there. You couldn’t avoid him everywhere and everytime though, you both were too familiar with each other schedule and you could tell the boy sensed something different coming from you.

Trouble knocked at your door when Eliza found you in a room you wouldn’t usually want to be, the cheerleaders rest room. Bree offered you this refuge when Bucky and his henchmen weren’t around, nobody ever spilled the beans and you were grateful for that.

The door opened with a certain force and hurry, making you jump on your sit. Eliza stared right into your soul and a long silence followed before her voice came out of her throat.

"What is going on ?"

"What ?"

"Please don’t play dumb with me." She closed the door behind her, guarding the entrance to prevent any escape tricks from you. "Zed’s been whining all day long because you are avoiding him."

"I am not, we just saw each other." Lying wasn’t your best ability but you still tried to convince her of your enormous lie.

"According to him, he haven’t seen you since lunch." Her eyes were big, and it felt like your mom was giving you a life lesson. With this eye contact, you knew she wouldn’t be fooled by you. You always spend the next hour with Zed because of your free period in common. And for some reason, you could tell everyone noticed your change in character, even if you had tried to minimize it. "And we both know that you’ve been very discret and absent lately." And here it goes, you were doomed. "I’ll ask again, what is going on ?"

You growned in frustration and embarassement. "I don’t want to talk about it..." Running a hand over your face, you closed your laptop tossing it in your bag.

You didn’t see Eliza concerned look. "Is it something serious ? About your family or did something bad happened ?"

You were grateful for her concern, it showed you once more that the girl you first met in the library was now one of your friends.

"No, no. Nothing major. Just something really troublesome for me."

"And it has to do with Zed ?"

"H-How do you even get there when asking for my family seconds ago ?" You blushed once more, wishing you would have wore a turtleneck sweater to hide your face.

"I promise I won’t tell him, I just think we could all help you if we had some idea of what’s happening." Even trapped in the room you would have thought of a good hiding place, you knew Eliza was telling the truth and genuinely wanted to help you. You were thankful for Lucile too who haven’t said anything. With all the time she spends with the zombie girl, you always wondered if she could have let it slipped up accidentally.

You sighed, fighting your own hesitation about telling the truth or denying your crush for the rest of your life. Maybe it was time to take a step forward and get some advice from someone who knew Zed for a long time.

"I like him." You were quick to pronounce those words, afraid they would run away from you and make you lose your courage.

Eliza surprised face chased away the words she was about to say, ‘yeah, we know.’ The look on your face showed her it wasn’t the type of like you used to feel month before.

"Oh, like… Love like ?"

"I know I shouldn’t."

"I did not said that."

You pursed your lips, averting your eyes from hers. Somehow, telling Zed’s long time best friend your feelings for him was as hard, not really, as telling him. You were scared of Eliza already knowing the boy opinion on the question and that her words would come and cut every string you had tightly knotted.

"You’ve realised it last week ?" Your head nodding to her words confirmed her suspicions. After all, you’ve started making yourself more discreet a week ago. "And why not telling him ?"

"We’re best friend ! It will ruin our friendship for sure."

"And if it does not ? Maybe he feels something for you too." She didn’t want to talk for Zed, but she knew him. Even without telling her a word of his feelings, she noticed how he cared and looked out for you. If he wasn’t even the tiniest bit in love… Well screw him.

"He does not."

It felt like talking you out of your thoughts was out of the question. "If you say so, but I am warning you, he is behind the door and ready to follow you for the rest of the day."

You chuckled, shaking your head at the image of Zed almost going crazy behind the door. "I am ready for it captain."

Eliza sighed desperately at your words while you stood up, opening the door to reveal a Zed who haven't heard a thing from your girl talk.

"Oh my god finally ! I was starting to think that I should add you on my Christmas wish list to see you again." The zombie girl nearly got the time to step out of the room when the boy charged in to stand himself right in front of you.

"So I am a Christmas present now ? I knew you wanted me." His rolling eyes and frustrated features won a giggle out of you. At least your feelings didn’t wipe out your sense of humor.

"On a serious note, is everything okay ? » His tone instantly made your amused smile drop, you could see the worry in his eyes and what your avoidance made him experience. You felt like a fool.

"Yes, I promise. I just had a lot on my mind recently, but now I realise, nothing worth putting my friends aside."

Eliza stayed out of view but heard your words, it made a sweet smile grew on her lips.

"Of course it wasn’t worth, should I remember you that we are the best ?" He waited for you to confirm his words and your shaking, amused head gave him just that.

"Yes, I am sorry. Come here stinky dork." Your circled his body with your arms right below his chest to encourage him into a hug.

He chuckled at your attitude, something he had missed over the past days. His own arms came around your shoulders to pull your head into his chest, ever so careful to never squeeze you too hard.

Eliza cough made him turn his head and your own tried to look at the girl by sticking out your head from his warm hug.

"Don’t forget about the zombie party tonight." She raised her eyebrow at her zombie fella.

"Of course I won’t." His smile and nod was her cue to leave.

"You guys are having a party in Zombietown ?"

His gaze came right back to you. "Yes, I was going to invite you."

"And what made you wait that long ? " Your quirked eyebrow painted his face with false surprise, tease floating all around in the air. You freed yourself from his grasp, crossing your arms on your chest.

"Huh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that I couldn’t find you around school anymore ?"

"I deserve that one. But you could have texted me."

"I am a gentleman. If I ask a girl out, I at least put the tiniest bit of effort."

"That is the tiniest bit of effort for sure. Where are the flowers and the knee on the ground to beg me to accompany you ?"

He shook his head and his right arm came back on your shoulder to bring your body out of the room with him. "I am still pretty hurt by having been pushed away by my bestest friend, so no flowers and no chivalry demand for you. Maybe a next time. "

"So there will be a next time ?" Your sly smirk reminded him of why you both were impossible to put up with when together. The endless back and worth was inevitable. It almost looked like the other would lose the biggest battle of their life if they didn’t respond.

"You hope for a next time huh ? I got you girl." You called it quit on that one when you felt your heart scream, yet again, for the fourth time since the conversation started .

. . .

The day soon came to an end, and you heard your mother's voice calling you from downstairs.

"Comin’ !"

You applied another spray of perfume before going down the stairs at a rapid pace, the entrance hall already opened to let you take in the sight of a waiting Zed.

"Here you are honey." Your mother rested a hand on your shoulder when your body stopped next to her. She surely had been talking with Zed while you were in the bathroom. "I wish you both a good time, but be home before midnight, got it ?"

"No problem Mrs.L/n, I am sure we’ll be home before midnight since she gets sleepy pretty quickly." His eyes shared a reassuring look to your mother, but you knew better than to be fooled by a Necrodopolis. You could see under this sweet and gentleman smile of his that he was gently making fun of you.

"I am pretty sure I will not." You retorted, your head moving childishly.

Zed was amused by your usual picked on reaction and smiled even more. You didn’t noticed it, nor him, but your mother quickly looked at the both of you with a suspicious look. She was used to your forever gentle bickering with the zombie, but she could swore she felt something unusual.

"Even though, midnight it is." You mumbled a fake annoyed ‘Yes mom’ before taking your leave with the boy right next to you.

The walk until Zombietown was filled with lively conversations, yet again, reminding yourself not to look too closely or too often slipped your mind every single time.

"I can’t wait, zombies party really are the best."

"I am glad you think that. I am pretty sure the first time I brought you to one you almost got a heart attack."

He didn’t mean to fully tease you, but you took the bait anyway. "You know I can’t really handle a lot of people ! But now it’s okay, I am used to it." You tried not to sulk, even the slightest, but you still huffed like a sulking puppy.

He smiled, feeling his chest warm up in your presence each step he took. The week he spends, mostly, without you almost got him into a crazy teenage frenzy. He felt like he had lost his north star and that no path could ever bring him back to you. He had wondered, just for a second, if the feelings he felt for you could be painted by many other meanings. But as a best friend, he denied them and acted like nothing changed.

"We’re here, let’s go inside."

To be sure you wouldn’t get lost or trapped in a wave of young zombies, he took your hand in his, clearing a path for you while he had tucked you closer to him.

In the middle of it all, you could have swore your eyes caught a glimpse of Eliza bun. You were quickly diverted from that thought by Zed who tried to find a quieter spot for you to enjoy the party. The old building room was crowded, he opted for a spot near the huge escape door, enough for you to enjoy the musics and people energy without getting overwhelmed. However his attempt drowned as quickly as he got to the corner he wanted when you spotted Bonzo.

"Look it’s Bonzo mixing ! Let’s get closer !"

"Don’t you prefer to stay here ?" His hand prevented you from leaving without him.

You turned around, realizing he just did all this room search for you. You felt your heart flipping in your chest along with you cheeks turning slightly pink, that detail had completely gone over your head.

"For this once, I’ll take the zombie heat full speed ! Come on !"

You dragged the boy along with you while he murmured ‘Why don’t you take my heat full speed’ under his breath, a sentence you couldn’t possibly hear with all that noise. Once near the stage, the boy you were excited to see locked eyes with you and started waving at you two.

"Y/n’ska !" His voice got caught by his microphone making you laught. You raised your free hand as high as you could, waving it and cheering for him. He greeted you with a tumb up before turnig his attention back on his tech.

You turned your head to center your attention on Zed again, only to see his gaze already focused on you. For some reason, it felt like his eyes haven’t left you even when you had waved to Bonzo. Your lungs warned you of a lack of air before new notes of musics reached your ears. A gasp made you breath again and a look of excitement took over your features when your head turned in every direction to look at the old speakers.

"Oh my god it’s that song from Hotel Transylvania !" Your hand let go of Zed’s, only acknowledging the fact that you didn’t let go sooner now. "They usually don’t play that kind of songs." You offered him a confused look, only for his smile to grow wider. You remembered yourself vibing to the song before the lyrics laughed at you because you were, indeed, in love with a monster now.

"I may or may not gave some of your playlist to Bonzo." His voice perfectly covered the song, making you able to only hear him.

You felt the floor slip under your shoes even if your body didn’t move an inch. "Why would you do that ?"

"Because I know how much you love the songs you listen to on a daily basis. I just thought it would make you happy to hear them here too."

‘Cause I’m in love with a monster.

You bit your lower lips, your heart ready to explode. You were going to let ip slip up, the words threatened to blurp out.

Friends say I’m stupid and I’m out of my mind, but without you boy I’d be bored all the time.

"You dance ?" You offered him the same hand you had taken away from him.

"How could I say no."

Everyone danced around you and Zed and even if you weren’t that good of a dancer, you allowed yourself to bounce around like you would do in your room. Your partner successfully made you drop some coordinated moves along with him. For a few seconds, it didn’t felt like a huge and moldy old building filled with hormones and sweats. You were in your own little world where only your best friend was allowed to appear when he made you twirl and move along with him.

The song soon ended to reveal another one that you knew a little bit too well. You turned around once more to look at Bonzo vibing behind his soundboard. Zed took the chance to offer a thumb up to his bro who looked up for a second, he quickly hid his hand when you looked once again at him.

"You’re joking..." Your voice wasn’t audible with all the fuss, and he didn’t noticed your lips slightly moving with intoxicating emotions.

"What ? Told you we choose some of your favorite songs !"

He was doing it on purpose, he had to. His voice started to sing along with the song, both his hands now holding yours to make you dance out of you surprise.

A shaky sigh escaped from your mouth, you weren’t sure your body could follow more of his tricks and energy, nonetheless, you tried to dance a bit more.

‘You and me belong together all the time.’

Soon his energy got to you, and you couldn’t help but sing along as he made you twirl more and swing from left to right. You laughed a few times when his foot got tangled in the weird choreography of other people, making him move a bit less for a few seconds.

His body towered over you, and he leaned closer to sing along with your voice, "This love is all we need !" He seemed so happy, so caught up in what was hapenning. He enjoyed this moment with you, he even went as far as asking Bonzo to add songs you loved to the party. It was the details even you didn’t notice, how on the way here he had looked to see if you weren’t cold, how he had searched for a quiet place so you wouldn’t get overwhelmed. How he remembered and kept the playlist you showed him.

And from those little things, greater gesture from him came to your mind. You weren’t the only one paying attention to all the little things about him, he was paying attention to you too.

Screw your denial, you couldn’t take it anymore. You couldn’t hide nor lie a second more, your body wouldn’t allow it. « Gar gargiza ! »

Zed had stopped moving nearly at the same time as you, his eyes widened with his mouth slightly open in shock. He felt his mouth turning dry, yet, he swallowed what seemed litres of saliva. "What did you say ?" He had to make sure, he had to hear it again.

You bit your lower lip, frustrated and scared, your body slightly shaking. "Gar gargiza you dumbass !"

"You know what that means right ?"

"Oh my god I am going to kill you ! I love you Zed, and I am going crazy about it !"

As soon as the word left your lips, his arms quickly squeezed you in the biggest, neediest hug you had ever received. You squeezed him as hard as you could before he, as quickly, pushed you from him, his hands tightly holding your arms.

"Tell me I can kiss you." You eyes widened at his words, and the seconds you took to respond were enough to burn out his patience. "Please." He begged.

You felt an urge, the same one Zed’s was trying to suppress to give you space and time to think. Your hands reached to his neck, landing on his skin as you stood on you tiptoe in a quick motion. Your lips touched his. It was a rushed move that ended as soon as you tasted him. However, he didn’t want to let you go just yet. His own hands rapidly but gently grabbed the back of your head to stop you from moving too far away from him, and with a last glance at your sparkling eyes, he kissed you. This time longer, sweeter. He wanted to remember the taste of your fragile lips, he wanted to stay connected to you as long as he could. He was tender and soft against you, keeping you close yet never too strongly so you could stop him at any given moment.

He felt his last bit of control being sucked out of him when your lips moved against his. He parted from you, against his will, your eyes almost pulling him again in your touch. He looked all around him, and you wondered what was happening. Your brain had completely pushed the off button and you were barely emerging from your ecstasy when Zed hand tugged you across the room.

"W-Where are we going ?"

It took him only a few seconds to find the exit. "Sorry to drag you out, but I can’t stay in there."

You soon found yourself in a smaller room that still seemed pretty big for both of you. He turned around to face you, his hand pulling you against him as his forehead touched yours. "I love you Y/n, so so much. I don’t know why it even took so long for me to say it."

His words hit you like a truck, he had rushed you out but you now understood why. You too wanted a moment alone with him, to finally know what it feels to be loved by him. What it feels to be loved by you.

"Maybe the fact that I avoided you because I was scared of my own feelings." You breathed heavily because of the run the boy put you through, it was hard to follow mister long legs with your tiny ones.

He laughed at the inside joke you made, remembering how he had bugged you about that exact fact today. "You were ?"

"Didn’t want to lose my best friend." You confessed with teary shining eyes. Even if it wasn’t the case anymore, you could have lost him back there. His hands made their way to your cheeks, smoothing the skin under your eyes to chase any tears that threatened to pour.

"Me too." His voice admitted soon after you. "But look, now you have a lover who happens to be your best friend of all time."

You exhaled an amused breath. "Girlfriend boyfriend huh ?" You wanted to keep on saying those words, and you wanted him to keep on approving what you thought.

Luckily, Zed knew you like the back of his hand and was aware of the things going through your head. "Y/n L/n, my sweet and beautiful girlfriend." He won another shaky smile from you. "Come here gorgeous, I haven’t had enought of your kisses."

With the slightest force, he brought your face to his to smother your lips with a million kisses. It made you laugh against his skin, and he soon pampered kisses all over your face.

"S-Stop ahah !"

"Never."

Your hands grabbed his wrist to show your, non-existent, protest. When he attacked your lips again with quick kisses, your own opened to surprise him with a bigger and even more needy kiss. Your move worked as his face stepped back with a really surprised look.

"What was that ?"

"What was what ? " You played dumb, earning a childish smile from him.

"What was that big kiss just now ? Were you trying to bite me ?" He kissed the corner of your mouth, giggling with you.

You took him in your arms, resting your head on his chest. His breathing appeased your emotions and thoughts, and you sensed the same could be said for him as his head came to rest on yours.

"Can I sleep at you place tonight ?" His demand was quiet.

"You’ll have to ask my mom."

"She loves me, of course it's going to be yes."

You sighed, of course she would say yes to Zed, it was Zed."She spoils you too much... "

[stray-kaz]

Awkward Question : a Zed Necrodopolis x reader blurb

A/N: To be VERY clear, Zed and reader are 18 and away at Mountain College in this. They do not room together, but have become close over the last six or seven months. He calls her “pixie” because she is short. It is meant to be endearing not offensive. I myself am 5′2. I have been called more creative names than this lol.

“How do zombies have sex?”

Over the other side of the room, Zed choked on his drink and struggled for air, his eyes widening as he stared across at you, tip of a pen between your teeth, chemistry book open on the desk in front of you. You blinked at him, suddenly blushing and uncertain.

Finally able to breathe again, he pointed incredulously at your study book.

“That’s not a question in your test, is it?” he demanded, astounded.

You shook your head, chewing ferociously on the pen.

“Just curious” you spoke around it, shrugging one shoulder. “So? How do?”

Rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, Zed shrugged, grateful for once that the tinge to his skin prevented him from blushing obviously. You, on the other hand, were near scarlet, waiting for his answer.

“Just like everyone else, I guess” he muttered finally. “We’re not...anatomically different.”

Without conscious thought, you glanced down at his lap and then away hurriedly, mentally kicking yourself for your behaviour.

There was a scrape of chair wheels on wooden floor and a quiet shuffle of Converse.

“Why were you curious?”

The quiet voice right next to your head made you gasp and jump, your book crashing onto the floor in a rustle of paper and the pen falling out of your mouth when you saw Zed leaning over you, one arm along the back of your chair. He was suddenly so close you were breathing his air. Dark eyes like melted pools of chocolate stared into yours, unblinking.

You crossed one leg over the other and shook your head, trying to play it cool.

“Um, no reason in particular” you mumbled; just one frustrating inch and his lips would be touching yours.

His eyes narrowed a little and you cowed back, away from the mischievous expression he was now wearing. He held up his hands, wiggling his long fingers at you.

“Don’t make me tickle it out of you, pixie” he threatened; his nickname for you, because of your stature, never ceased to send a thrill through you.

“No, Zed, please don’t” you begged, eyeing his hands. “You know I hate being tickled.”

He cocked his head to one side.

“Then fess up” he said. “Tell me the truth.”

You shook your head again.

“I can’t!”

Desperation laced your voice, but he didn’t listen to it as he attacked you with the most dexterous fingers known to man or zombie. Fingertips strummed up and down your sides and across your stomach, tickled under your chin and around the back of your neck. You shrieked and fought, twisting violently to get away, until you fell out of your chair and landed on the hardwood, sprawled on top of your book.

You gasped for air as Zed continued his onslaught, determination in the set of his jaw and in his eyes.

“Tell me and I’ll stop!”

You bit your lip and arched away as he reached around to tickle the small of your back.

“Tell me! Come on, pixie! I wanna know! So bad!”

You kept your mouth shut until his hands slipped under the hem of your t-shirt and danced across the smooth warm flesh of your stomach. Then you couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“I like you, okay?” you blurted out, red faced all over again. “I really like you, Zed!”

The tickling stopped and he took his hands away, shocked into silence. You stole the opportunity and scrambled to your feet, leaving your chem book and pen behind and sprinting out the open door, headed for your own dorm room and safety.

To be continued?

[chiliger]

Oh my god, it’s Cody with a chair!

Woo! Fan comic of @frostbitebakery ‘s Zombi-Wan fanfic: “Who Ordered the Resurrection Special” 💫💫💫 It’s a fun read, highly recommend.

[6lostgirl6]

A Night To Dismember

Pairing: Michael Myers x Fem!Reader

TW: Detailed Gore, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Sexual Assault [Not by Michael], Slightly Possessive Michael, Protective Michael, Mature Audience only!

A/N: Requested by my bestie @prettywhenibleed! I really hope you enjoy this and it was an absolute pleasure to write this for you!! Love you, my favorite slasher whore! ❤️ This isn't my best work, I'm afraid, forgive me.

The Smith's Grove Sanitarium operated according to a schedule that was consistently set in motion without interruption. No authorized doctor employed by the sanitarium, however, would have foreseen this. Medical specialists thought they were completely familiar with Michael Myers' behavior. He was docile and kept to himself, despite being the most dangerous and threatening patient in the hospital. 

But if you left him alone, there was a chance he would treat you in a similar fashion. The sole exception would be if touching his masks or otherwise bothered him. Even being among other patients was something he never enjoyed.

You were a new patient, recently exiled from society and your family because of your dreadful infatuation with fire and burning objects of interest. Your arrival left the building in absolute shock. On your first day, you were assigned to the recreation room. When you entered the room, your initial instinct was to walk over to the largest and most dangerous man within the sanatorium while grinning brightly. You only watched him work on a paper mache mask while standing over his hunched figure in the corner of the room, his hospital-approved supplies scattered along the table. 

You thought the colors were stunning, which you happily expressed. 

As a precaution against Michael harming you, guards stood by the recreation room's entrance wielding batons. Michael, on the other hand, did the exact opposite, giving you a cursory glance before grunting and slackly pointing for you to sit next to him. 

It was like you and Michael had your own timetable inside the sanitarium, and this went on for the next few months without fail. As directed by his psychiatrist, Michael was permitted to create his masks in the recreation area in the mornings. You would follow not far behind and take your normal seat beside him at a table chosen at random, apart from the other patients. You would merely watch him create his masks and ramble about whatever was on your mind. Michael never responded to the conversation, but that didn't stop you from talking to him because he had his own style of doing so without words. You have grown accustomed to deciphering his thoughts from his basic grunts and gestures.

"Hey, Mikey." You said with a smile, taking a seat at your usual spot next to Michael's side, placing your tray of food onto the table.

Michael was in the middle of placing wet paper mache on the face mold for his mask, his fingers caked in colors of paint and residue from the paper mache. He paused for a moment, giving you a small grunt as acknowledgement before returning to his activity.

You smiled more, chuckling at his usual ways of communicating as you watched him craft. You've always been interested in his masks and the variety of patterns he would use for each one. Many of his masks had their own unique qualities. However, you knew to only look, not touch.

"I see you're adding bright colors this time; are those happy pills finally working?" You teased him, nudging him softly with your body.

Michael huffed through his nose, which you learned was his way of chuckling as he shook his head at you. In the past, It took a while, but you had a better understanding of Michael's gestures and emotions than the doctors.

Simply because you treated him like a person, not an experiment.

"Maybe next time then." You replied, turning towards your tray before glancing at his project once more. "You're really good at that, Mikey. You're really talented."

Once again, Michael paused his movements, his stained fingers holding the paper mache while his eyes remained downcast. His fingers twitched before he resumed, and you almost thought you said something wrong.

"I didn't mean-"

You were cut off as Michael grabbed another mold from the table, pushing it in your direction. Your eyes widened slightly as you pushed your tray out of the way as Michael's slow movements brought other materials in your direction.

Still in slight awe, you watched him turn towards you, and your eyes connected through his favorite orange mask. You couldn't help the way your heart skipped a beat at the way his eyes stared into your own, seemingly piercing into your own soul.

The doctors were wrong; his eyes weren't soulless, nor were they black, resembling a massive void of nothingness. They were blue, similar to a clear sky or the glimmering waves of the ocean.

He huffed before pointing a finger at the materials and then towards you. He wanted you to mold with him.

"Thank you, Mikey." You said softly, a bright smile on your face.

When your eyes met Michael's, he was unable to comprehend the sensation in his chest. Usually, when his sight fell on their figures, individuals would tremble or turn away. He wasn't concerned by their fear of the facility's most dangerous patient. He actually benefited from the fear he instilled in the hearts of many who came to the sanitarium.

Yet you didn't...and he liked that.

He liked that you weren't scared of him, speaking to him, or even touching him like you've been these past few months. The thought of you being scared of him made him feel...hollow.

When you started working on your own mask using the materials that were laid out on the table, Michael couldn't help but covertly place a palm on his chest to feel how his heart was refusing to settle down. He almost wanted to groan in annoyance, hating the way he liked being around you and having your attention.

He had been content with his solitude for a long time, He preferred being alone and had been for many years. However, the notion of you leaving him made the murderous itch inside him threaten to resurface.

He decided that he would keep you with him, protect you with everything he has, and extinguish anyone who threatened to ruin that. With darkened eyes, he returned to working on his mask.

On that day, you and Michael became closer.

You weren't born yesterday and you certainly weren't born stupid. Trouble was afoot in the institution and it was either happening under the doctors' noses or they simply didn't care enough to investigate. Over the past week, you would hear feminine screams down the hallway in the women's section of the institution during the late hours of the night. Last night, the screams could be heard two doors down from your room.

The screams and cries began when a new guard was appointed to the institution, supposedly replacing a well-known guard who was at the age of retirement. Due to your paranoia, you would sit on the edge of your bed, watching the door in the chance of someone entering your room when they weren't supposed to.

During the days, you would spend all you could with Michael, hoping that your association with him would make you seem off limits to mess with, or you hoped. Yet, Michael couldn't protect you when the sun went down and the men and women would return to their respective cells on opposite sides of the institution.

Tonight, you were following the same routine, sitting on the edge of your bed and watching the door. Your mind was in shambles, trying to come up with a plan in that chance, that horrid chance of the new guard coming for you. You hoped it wasn't what you were thinking, and for once, you prayed.

God never heard your prayers, and he certainly didn't now, especially when the jingling of keys were heading down the hallway, towards your room.

Michael couldn't sleep and when he couldn't sleep, he would simply pass the time by creating more masks or painting designs onto them. He was sitting at his desk, the surface covered in paper mache, markers, paint, and crayons. He was in the middle of adding a touch of red when he heard the distant sound of screaming.

His annoyance was disguised under his mask as he sighed and tightened his grip on the crayon in his hand to the point that it almost broke in half. He puffed again at the commotion and went on, indifferent to the screams. Perhaps a patient was making a scene during the nightly check-ins.

In order to block out the noises, Michael withdrew within the walls of his mind. It was a way that allowed Michael to escape freely from the confinement of his cell. He would always imagine a life outside the institution, with you. He would imagine the way he would protect you and provide for you. The thought used to sicken himn, but now he enjoyed it, the possibility. The sound of keys jingling, seemingly opening his cage, caused him to pause, though. With a loud crash, the cell door swung open, and shouting could now be heard outside of his room.

"Want some, freak?" The guard asked him in an mocking manner while Michael remained at his desk, his back to the guard. Michael immediately understood what the guard was pulling when he heard the feminine screams and intended to ignore it. 

He continued to ignore his surroundings, ignoring the rage building within his chest. The sound of his bed creaking didn't deter him from continuing on with his activity. However, it all changed when the victim screamed one word.

"Michael!"

You.

Your trapped figure on his bed, with your nightgown pushed up so that only your thighs were visible, caught Michael's attention as his head whirled around. Your eyes were filled to the brim with tears, which streamed down your cheeks as you sobbed and struggled. His eyes quickly shifted to the guard hovering over you, and he developed tunnel vision instinctively.

A ferocious roar erupts from Michael's mouth and takes hold of the guard by the neck and collar of his shirt, throwing him off balance. In the midst, you shakily brought yourself to a sitting position, fixing the bottom of your nightgown to cover yourself. Your eyes watched as Michael picked up the guard, pinning him to the wall with eerie silence. The man in his grasp was yelling in pain and fear as Michael kept him pinned, his legs dangling in the air.

"L-Let go! Let go, you fucking punk!" The guard cried out.

Michael did not like that, not at all. Without a second thought, Michael hurled him into his desk, his art supplies falling to the ground in a cluster of clangs while the man groaned in pain. Like a predator stalking his prey, Michael's towering form stalked over to the smaller male, his eyes black as night and void of any life or mercy within. His large hand reached out to grab the same red colored pencil,

Michael's next action seemed to be a blur, he body launching onto the guard and stabbing him with the colored pencil, his resiliant strength making the pencil tear through flesh and muscle.

You watched in a sickening twist of fascination and awe, watching as Michael stabbed the guard over and over, leaving no body part untouched, the man;s screams filling the room. Your heart felt warm, knowing that Michael was willing enough to kill someone for you.

Lastly, Michael stabbed him until his chest, stomach, and face was shrouded in punctures, cuts, and wounds. With one last jab, the colored pencil stabbed into his neck, making the man gurgle on his own blood.

"Michael..." You whispered, your eyes taking in his bloodied form as he slowly turned to you, heaving himself up and moving towards you. It was as if he was a trained dog hoping he made his master proud. However, you were nothing of the sort. When he was close enough, you wrapped your arms around him, pressing yourself into his strong form. "Thank you..."

Michael gave a small huff, hesitantly touching your head with his bloody palm, staining your strands with the bodily fluid. Without another word, Michael pushed you away and grabbed your hand, pulling you off the bed and heading towards the door.

"Where we are going?" You asked in confusion, following behind the behemoth of a man down the stark white hallway.

In response, Michael tugged on your hand and you decided to go along with whatever he had in his mind. He saved you after all; even when he didn't have to, he did. It made you feel safe and protected in his presence.

"Alright, Alright." You muttered, your figures turning a corner and out of sight.

Red and white.

Those were the colors you would never forget. The way the walls were coated in blood and bodily fluids of various nurses and guards that laid along the floor in mangled messes.

Michael was strong, very strong. You remembered the way he smashed a guard's skull in with his fingers alone. You shuddered at the thought, crossing your arms and staring at the wall in front of you as you waited for Michael to finish off his last victim. A nurse arriving at the right place at the wrong time as Michael ambushed her, his hands around her throat as he strangled her.

Michael walked over to you, his muffled huffing practically hovering over your ear as he showed you shoes and coat. You stared at the items with a blank expression, wondering what he wanted you to do with these.

He huffed before shaking the items in his hands, motioning the items towards you. You sighed before taking the items with a small smile, throwing on the shoes and coat. You felt the warmth of the fabric soothe your cold figure.

"Thank you..." You muttered softly, looking up at him as he stared down at you.

He couldn't help but think you looked...cute.

He offered you his bloodied hand, which you instantly took and followed him to the exit. You both were finally going to be free and it was all thanks to him.

After a few hours of walking, your feet were beginning to ache and the adrenaline from earlier was wearing off.

After your fifth yawn, Michael stopped in his tracks, turning towards you in the middle of the field. He simply stared at you as you bent forward to rest your hands on your knees.

Michael, I need to rest for a moment. Please my-" Your words were cut off when Michael stormed over to you, grabbing you roughly around the hips, hoisting you into his arms. His arm went around your waist, while the other held your back in a bridal style fashion.

Your eyes widened from his sudden roughness, however you couldn't complain as you basked in his warmth, nuzzling your face in the bloodied fabric of his robe.

"Thank you." You said, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to finally relax for the first time tonight. You didn't notice the way Michael was staring at you in his arms, his darkened eyes filled with something unknown, dangerous...maybe even a little bit of caring.

Silently, he turned and resumed walking through the field, making sure to keep you safe as you began to doze in his arms.

Finally, you were his.

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[questions-about-blorbos]

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[professor-scribbls]

It’s Remus! I think we all knew it would only be a certain amount of time before I added Remus’ design to this AU since he has already been introduced in the fic lol, I did hide some little secrets in the drawing for the ppl who feel like theorising to theorise of lol. Stay tuned for chapter 3 being posted soon!!!