Here is a very rough Master List of all of my writings in one place if you are interested in any of them. I'm always looking to update and add to it as always! <3 all of you who stop by and read and cookies to all of you who review, it feeds my dopamine and the bunny farm and the more dopamine and bunnies I get, the more I write. THIS PAGE IS ALWAYS, ALWAYS UNDER CONSTRUCTION... SO ARE THE FICS.... and my asks are always open if someone actually likes my stuff enough to ask me to write something or drop me a prompt. I do not have a tag list, I'm not popular enough which I don't mind, really. I'd die if I actually became popular.
M*A*S*H*
MASH and Zombies
Something supernatural this way comes to the MASH unit. Slight crossover with Supernatural if you look for it. (Hawkeye/Mulcahy).
Joel Miller. Construction worker and handyman of King's River. He's definitely keeping himself busy ...
Chapter two of Sunny's Boys is under the cut please, minors DNI. thank you!
Warnings: badly written oral sex, and public sex (ish?) and protected P in V sex. I think that's it?
Sunny was not happy that her brothers were in town; they were definitely going to cramp her style. So she decided to take advantage of their lack of presence and see what she could get from the construction boys. More specifically, Mr. Joel Miller. He was the lead of the crew that usually came in on friday nights, ready for the weekend…..
“The usual, Mr. Miller?” you asked with your usual devilish grin, hoping to tempt him sometime. You felt it could be tonight, you felt it in your panties, from the way he smiled at you. He always had a drink, then a cup of coffee afterwards. He was so practical, predictable… and sexy. You knew he fucked half the girls in the town, and probably some of the lonely housewives as well, from what you had heard at the occasional smoke break from the bathroom window. You were surprised at how much the ladies would gossip when they thought they were alone in the bathroom. You couldn’t help yourself… you were curious. You had to see what it was all about.
You grinned and leaned over to pull the best bottle of whiskey, and poured him a couple of fingers of whiskey over a large block of ice. You knew just how he liked his drinks. You were thrilled that he had come tonight, you had put on the perfect pair of panties– a pair you had eyed online and bought on an impulse, and they made you smile. You felt that this pair of panties were made only to be worn once… and that was tonight.
“You know, I’ve heard some interesting things about you from some ladies.” you said with a smile, setting down the glass on a napkin.
“That so?” he asked as he looked right at you with his brown eyes. You licked your lips. You liked how this was going. This was just like Shane, but nicer energy. Dirty, and down for a game, no strings attached, but not as demanding. Shane was fun, but he required so much attention, and you liked to be spoiled… or spoil others, you thought as you swallowed at the thought of what lay beneath the denim.
“Mm-hm.” you murmured as you walked down the bar to give Rick Grimes a bud light, turning to wink at Joel and saunter off over to the Dixon Brothers playing pool in the corner. You smile at Daryl and Merle, refilling Daryl’s coke and Merle’s beer, bantering with Merle as you let him call you sugar-tits and sweetheart, and whatever else comes out of his mouth. You knew men like him, they were fairly harmless as long as you knew how to handle them. After all, you had grown up around men, having two older brothers. You grin at Merle and threaten to cut him off if he doesn’t behave, and he quiets down, putting out the cigarette in the ashtray.
You make your way to the Teller table, saying your hello to the mechanics, giggling at Jax and Opie’s running commentary on the shit that Tig had pulled in the shop that kept him and Chibs at the shop tonight. You told the boys you’d pack a couple drinks and burgers to go for them if they were coming back to the shop. That earned you a fifty dollar tip, and you didn’t ask questions. You loved those boys, but knew if you asked questions, the tips would stop coming.
“You’re a busy girl tonight, aren’t you?” Mr. Miller commented as you made your way back behind the counter, putting the orders in the register. You nodded with a sly grin, looking up at Joel as you leaned forward, just enough for him to stare down your shirt right at the lace on the cups of your pink lacy bra.
“I’m busy- but not too busy for a quick break tonight, enough for a …. Nice snack.” you say with the confidence of a Winchester. It was clear you had gotten Joel’s attention, at least. Joel licked his lips slowly and cocked his brow with a slow lazy grin that slowly turned predatory. You shivered, seeing the heat in his eyes.
“I like snacks.” Joel said with a nod. “I’m a very patient man.” Joel leaned back in his seat, eyeing the rest of the bar. It was a slow night, but not as slow as he would have liked it to be, you could see it from the way he eyed all of the other clientele. “People like you need to fuck people like me.” Joel said cockily as he sipped his drink.
“As long as Dixon behaves, I’m sure it’ll slow down.” you say with confidence and a bit of heat coloring your words as you wink at Joel, waving at Rick, who put down his card for his tab. You take the card and slide it through the machine, thanking Rick for being so sweet and patient, being sure to slide your pink manicured nails slowly over his hand as you hand back the card. You could see Rick swallow slightly, his eyes widening ever so slightly as he put his card back in his wallet. You watched Rick saunter out of the roadhouse, your eyes moving to the Dixons, who were getting louder as time went by. You let out a sigh, and tilted your head over at the Dixons.
“Can you take care of that problem for me? I’ll make your food on the house for you if you do.” you tell the T & M boys, who all shared a look and and smirked. “Behave! You know the Dixons are all bark and no bite.”
“Oh no, girl- we know, because we are the bite around here.” Jax said with a smirk, winking at you as he nudged Opie, the two boys sauntering over to the pool table. You didn’t want to hang around for that part, grateful that Rick had already left so no one would be arrested tonight. You hurried to the back to get the bags of food, slipping in a sexy note on a napkin for Tig and Chibs, making sure to kiss it with your pink lipstick, thanking them for being such wonderful customers of the Roadhouse.
“Here you go, boys.” you say brightly, hurrying out of the back with the bags packed in a cardboard box, for the T & M boys, making sure to give Jax and Opie a kiss on the cheek each, your lipstick shining brightly on their cheeks.
“Anytime, sunshine.” Jax nodded and took the box, cheering at the sight of a six-pack of Miller Lite as a bonus, the door slamming behind them. You knew Bobby wouldn’t mind the extras, keeping the regulars happy guaranteed a steady income, as long as no questions were asked, of course.
“Ready to settle up, boys?” you ask as you take two large mugs of steaming coffee over to the Dixons. Merle grunted a comment you didn’t quite hear, but you were sure you didn’t want to hear it anyway. Daryl nodded and put down a 50, telling you to keep the change for your tip. You nodded and kissed Daryl on the cheek, telling Merle he can get his kiss later when he behaves next time, calling him a naughty boy, with a saucy wink to show him that you weren’t entirely too upset with him…. This time. The Dixons left after that, leaving you and Joel alone in the bar, or at least alone until the next set of regulars showed up, the late-nighters from the casino over on the Rez, and the hospital staff.
You sauntered up lazily to Joel, leaning against the bar as you gave him a good look-over. Joel smirked as he leaned back in his chair. You glanced at his drink and on impulse, you picked up the glass and drained it of its contents in a quick gulp, licking your lips as the glass was placed softly back on the napkin.
“What’s on the menu?” Joel asked as he stared right into you, down to your wet core. You could feel the heat in his eyes as they moved slowly over your body, as if he was undressing you with his eyes ever so carefully.
“We’ve got maybe a half hour, can I interest you in a quick snack?” you smirked as you let your body do the talking. “It’s…. All you can eat.” you say as you hop up on the bar, making sure your legs were spread ever so slightly. Joel took the hint, smirking as he slid himself in between your legs. You weren’t exactly sure what happened, but him kissing slowly up your inner thigh was bliss. His beard tickled all in the right places as you felt his hot breath tease over the cloth that hid your wet slick from him.
“All I can eat, hmm?” Joel asked with a cocky smirk as he looked up at you, hiking up your skirt and eyeing the pink thong, tearing it off in a quick motion, burying his face in your wet warmth, licking you right up so you wouldn’t leak on the counter. He set you just on the edge, his mouth and tongue doing fast work on keeping your slick flowing. Leaning back, you could hear the metal of his belt clinking, a zipper unzipping and you leaned forward to take a peek.
He was loaded. Definitely loaded, you thought as you eyed the monster that had been lying dormant all along. Joel grabbed a condom from his pocket, fitting it sunugly on his cock.
“I’m polite. I wouldn’t want to make a mess for you to clean up.” he said with a shrug as he slid his hands up, cupping your ass as he slid you off the bar, and right on his cock. You felt your soul leave your body, the way he filled you up…
It was indescribable. You could see angels sing, and you didn’t want him to stop. You held on for dear life, sliding up and down on his dick, riding him like the dirty man he was. Your breasts bounced with each stroke of his cock, his mouth hungrily nibbling at your boobs, leaving marks everywhere. You held on, your arms around him and your hands gripped him hard, scratching up his back as you came as you rode him, your pink nails marking your presence on his back. If the scratches had bothered him, you couldn't tell or even care, you were feeling bliss on his dick.
You didn’t mind, not after he slid out of you and bent you over the bar stool, fucking you hard, practically plowing you into the bar. You couldn’t hold back the whimpers and they filled the empty bar, accompanied with the sound of flesh smacking flesh. You nearly cried at the feel of his balls slapping against your wet dripping cunt, and you couldn’t hold back.
“Joel.” you cried, tears running down your cheeks at how hard you were coming, the wetness pulsing around his cock as he let out a loud groan, and you gushed around his cock, wetness dripping off of his drenched cock as he slowly slid out of you.
“Fuck.”
“Clean ‘em up and maybe we can have round two after closing.” Joel said as he cleaned himself up, throwing away everything in the large bin behind the counter. You wordlessly nodded, wondering what the night would bring…
“Jesus, Sunny, you gotta stop this. You got a problem.” Dean whined as he met Joel at your hotel room door. Joel was just leaving, buttoning up his flannel shirt. “Joel.”
“Dean. Sam.” Joel said with a smirk and nod, pulling on his tattered cap. “Don’t worry, she’s decent.” Joel chuckled as he left the hotel room, rolling your eyes at your brothers as you went up to the door, leaning against the door-frame clad in your fuzzy pajama pants and tank top, and holding the door open for Dean and Sam.
“Don’t worry, I won’t fuck the whole town. I’ve got standards, you know. I can’t help it. It’s the Winchester charm they all fall for. You’d know that, wouldn’t you, Dean?”
“Shut up.” Sam whined as he thrust a bag of donuts in your direction. “Don’t encourage him.”
“It’s not like I’m challenging him to a screw-off or something. That would be gross, you need to grow up. I just got needs… and intel.” you said with a giggle as you dug into the bag of donuts. You’d let your brothers suffer just a tiny bit until you told them what you had learned about King’s River from Joel. Apparently, Joel fucking bored and lonely housewives had some benefits for the case you were working on with your brothers.
This is a multi chapter fic.. I finished book one!
King's River is just another small American town: a trailer park, a diner on Main Street, an old church overlooking the cemetery, and neighbors who've known one another for years. But beneath its quiet streets lies a history written in fire and silence. When someone goes missing, Sheriff Rick Grimes is drawn into long-buried secrets that refuse to stay dead. Joined by a circle of townspeople, Rick soon discovers that the stories everyone dismissed as folklore may be terrifyingly real. Because in King's River, some things just don't die.
Chapter one can be found under the cut....
King’s River was already leaning hard into Halloween. You could feel it in the air; the restless energy, children wound tight and running loose, their voices carrying up and down the road like static. Three boys tore past Dixon’s Automotive, laughter trailing behind them, too loud and too fast.
“Hey!” Merle barked, flicking his cigarette into the gravel. “Slow your asses down before you get run over.” They didn’t even look back.
Figures.
His shop sat right at the edge of town, where folks came in hotter than they should, like the speed limit didn’t mean a damn thing until they saw a patrol car. Merle kept an eye on it out of habit. Didn’t feel like scraping some kid off the road because somebody couldn’t ease off the gas. Harry and Ron kept running. Carl slowed, glancing over his shoulder like something had snagged his attention, then peeled off and jogged back the way he’d come. Merle watched him go, one brow ticking up.
“Huh,” he muttered. “Kid’s got manners, at least.” He leaned back under the overhang, rolling his shoulders, and drew in a slow breath through his nose, working on his cigarette as he watched the sky.
Rain was coming.
Not the light kind, either. This one had weight to it; he could feel it settling deep in his bones, thick and waiting, like the sky was holding its breath before letting loose. Merle’s gaze drifted up the road. That’s when he saw them.
Two girls, small under a pink umbrella, walking close together. Carol’s kid—Sophia—and the Granger girl. Hermione. Carl had caught up to them, falling into step at their side, head bent a little like he was saying something low. The girls leaned in toward him, the three of them moving together like it was the most natural thing in the world. They didn’t look so small with him there.
“Hey!” Merle called, lifting a hand. “Get y’all over here before that sky lets loose.”
They hurried the last few steps, ducking under the metal awning just as the first heavy drops began to fall. The sound came fast—thick, hollow, drumming against the roof. Carl lingered at the edge, shaking the rain from his hair.
“Walkin’ ’em home?” Merle asked.
Carl shrugged, a little sheepish. “Yeah. Figured I should.”
Merle huffed out a puff of smoke, his voice sharp. “Damn right you should.” He grabbed a couple candy bars from the basket by the door and handed them out. “Early treat.” Sophia lit up immediately. Hermione didn’t. Merle’s eyes caught on that—on the tear tracks still clinging to her cheeks. He frowned. “Why’s ya cryin’?”
Sophia answered before Hermione could, all puffed up about it. “Harry and Ron are being stupid.”
“Real stupid,” Hermione added, quieter.
Merle snorted. “Yeah, real surprise there.” He tipped his head toward the road. “Tell you what—you three come by Halloween night, I’ll give you the full-size bars. None of that fun-size bullshit.”
Sophia’s face brightened. Carl grinned. Hermione glanced up, just a little.
“And those boys?” Merle added. “They get rotten eggs. I’ll have Daryl deliver ’em personal on the motorcycle.” That got a laugh out of all three of them—quick, soft, but real. Rain picked up, heavier now, the pavement becoming soaked, puddles forming in the road. “Alright,” Merle said. “Go on. Get home before that turns ugly.”
Carl nodded, taking the umbrella and angling it over both girls. Then the three of them stepped back out into the rain. Merle watched them go, his eyes lingering on the trio longer than he meant to. Three shapes under that pink umbrella, moving steady down the road until the rain swallowed them whole. Then they were gone.
Rick Grimes stood just inside the doorway now, hat tucked under his arm, rainwater still dripping from the brim. Merle eyed the look on his face before he said a word. Not just a cop today. A father.
“That’s the last you saw of ’em before Halloween, Merle?” Rick asked.
Merle nodded. “Yeah. All three of ’em passed through. Your boy was with ’em—walkin’ ’em home like a damn gentleman.”
Rick’s jaw tightened, just a fraction. “Carl made it back,” he said with a nod of agreement.
“Course he did,” Merle replied with a scoff and shake of his head, his eyes narrowing with a growing sense of suspicion. Rick didn’t answer Merle. Just wrote something down.
“Both girls?” he asked.
“Yeah, both—” Merle stopped. Something in the way Rick said it. “Why?” he asked.
Rick looked up. “Because Hermione Granger was reported missing.”
Merle stared at him. That didn’t ring right. Not even a little. “Naah,” he said, shook his head. “She was here. With Sophia. I seen ’em.” Behind him, Daryl went still.
Rick’s eyes flicked past Merle, then back again. “Sophia Peletier is missing too.” Rain hammered the roof. Merle’s mouth went dry. His thoughts were filled with a Pink umbrella.
Three of ’em. Then two, and now one?
“…That ain’t right,” he muttered.
Rick didn’t write anything this time. “Who else saw her?” he asked.
Merle scrubbed a hand over his mouth, jaw tightening as he toyed with the cigarette in his mouth, exhaling the smoke in thought. “Mulcahy brought ’em by Halloween night. Carol too. Daryl checked on ’em.” He hesitated, then added, rougher, “They got their full size candy bars. Both of ’em.”
Rick nodded once, slow. “We’ll talk to them.”
Merle let out a breath through his nose, then jerked his chin toward the road. “You go knockin’ on Carol’s door, you best be ready,” he said. “Ed ain’t gonna like it.”
Rick’s gaze sharpened slightly. “Yeah?”
Merle shrugged, but there was no humor in it. “Man’s got a temper. Been layin’ hands on her, far as I can tell. Kid too.” His jaw worked. “They weren’t lookin’ too good last time I saw ’em.” Rick didn’t write that down either.
RIck held Merle’s gaze a second longer, his sharp blue eyes narrowing. “You think he’s involved?” he asked.
Merle hesitated. It made a kind of sense. Man like that, storm rolling in, girl already upset…
“Wouldn’t be the first time a bastard took it out on the wrong person,” he said finally. “Maybe Sophia. Maybe the other girl got caught up in it.” He paused, then shook his head slightly. “…But that don’t explain what I saw.”
Rick nodded, understanding Merle’s implications to that.
“Father Mulcahy?” he asked.
Merle frowned. “Saw him this mornin’. Headed to the church. Looked fine.” He scratched at his jaw. “Don’t figure it’s him.” Silence stretched between them, thick as the rain.
Rick closed the notebook. “We’re gonna need to talk to all of them,” he said. Merle nodded, not trusting his voice. Rick stepped back out into the downpour, heading for his cruiser. The red taillights smeared through the rain as he pulled away. The Dixon brothers watched until they were gone.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX KINGS RIVER
Rick killed the engine and sat for a second, listening to the tick of the cooling motor. The rain had let up to a thin, steady drizzle, the kind that soaked through without making much noise. The trailer park looked smaller under it—everything pressed down, quiet in a way that didn’t feel right. He stepped out, boots sinking slightly into the mud, and walked up to the Peletier trailer.
Rick knocked once, waiting and listening. There was movement inside; slow, careful, like whoever was there didn’t want to be heard. The door cracked open just enough for Carol to look out.
Rick had seen her a hundred times around town. He hadn’t seen her like this. Her eyes were red, not just from crying. They were red; hollowed out. There was a bruise climbing up along her collarbone, half-hidden under the neckline of her shirt. Another, faint and yellowing, along her wrist where she held the door.
“Mrs. Peletier,” Rick said, keeping his voice low and calm, casual. “Mind if I come in?”
She hesitated, then stepped back. “Ed ain’t here,” she said quickly. “If that’s why—he ain’t here.”
“I know,” Rick said. “He’s at the station.” Rick hadn’t mentioned it to the Dixons earlier, he had his suspicions the brothers had something to do with Ed’s current location. That caught her off guard. She blinked, like it took a second to understand what he’d said.
“Oh,” she murmured. “Oh… okay.”
Rick stepped inside the trailer. The place smelled faintly of damp and something burnt, like a stove left on too long. He didn’t stare at anything, he took it in the way he had learned to—quick, quiet, enough to know what kind of house you were standing in.
“You know where Sophia is?” he asked.
Carol nodded immediately. “She’s fine,” Carol was confident, firm that Sophia was not home. Rick didn’t interrupt. “She’s—she’s with Hermione,” Carol went on, words picking up pace, like she was trying to get ahead of something. “They were together after school. It started raining, and—” She swallowed. “Hermione gave her an umbrella. Carl walked ‘em home.. He’s a good boy.”
Rick gave a small nod. “He is.” Rick whispered softly, his mouth softening in a small smile, proud of how his son was with the young ladies of the town. Carol clung to that for a second, then pushed on.
“They went around the corner,” she said, gesturing vaguely. “To Father Mulcahy’s. They go there sometimes. It’s safe there.” Her voice softened on that. “They’d stay there if it got bad. He wouldn’t go near them there.”
Rick didn’t ask who he was. No need to; the whole town knew Ed Peletier and how he treated his wife Carol, and daughter Sophia. “When was the last time you saw her?” he asked instead.
Carol frowned slightly, like the question didn’t make sense. Carol rubbed her hands together like she couldn’t get them warm, even inside.
“We took ’em out,” she said after a moment. “It was Halloween night, just.... Me and Father Mulcahy.”
Rick didn’t interrupt, writing everything down on his notepad.
“We started early,” she went on, voice steadier now that she had something to hold onto. “The girls were excited. Sophia had that little witch hat—wouldn’t take it off. Hermione helped her fix it.”
A faint, tired smile flickered and faded.
“We made the rounds,” Carol murmured softly. “Church first, then up and down the main road, the neighborhoods… We ended at Dixon’s. Merle always does the full-size bars for the girls.” She glanced up at Rick, like that detail mattered. “He told ’em to come back next year.”
Rick nodded once. “Then what?”
Carol hesitated, almost afraid her answer would reveal something.
“Francis walked us back partway,” she said. “He had to head back to the church. He said goodnight to us.” Her fingers twisted together. “Girls were fine. Not a care in the world, just their candy, and their costumes...”
Rick let the silence sit. “And after you got home?”
Carol’s gaze dropped. “Ed had been drinking’,” she said quietly. That was all she offered at first. Rick didn’t push. He didn't need to. “I thought…” she started, then stopped, swallowing hard. “I thought Sophia went back out. She does that sometimes. Not far. Just—just to get away.”
“To Father Mulcahy’s?” Rick asked gently. He could tell that Carol had sent Sophia out, to get her away from Ed and his rage. He had often seen both girls at the church, or at Max’s Diner- often under the close eye of Father Mulcahy or Dr. Pierce.
Carol nodded quickly, relief flickering in her expression like he’d said the right answer. “Yes,” she said. “There. Hermione stays there sometimes, when—” She waved a hand, dismissing the rest. “It’s safe there. They know that. Both of ’em do.”
Rick studied her. “You talked to Francis and Ben?” he asked.
Carol blinked. “No,” she said. Then, softer, “Not yet. I just… I figured…” She trailed off. Rick felt it then, the slight gap. Not in what she was saying. In what should have happened.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX KINGS RIVER
Rick didn’t use the siren when he pulled up near the church. It felt wrong to cut through the quiet. A few houses down from the church sat Mulcahy’s place—small, neat, with a low fence and a garden out front that had been tended with care. Even in the dim gloomy light, Rick could see where someone had tried to keep it going through the season.
The lights were on, warm and inviting. Rick shut the cruiser door more gently than usual and walked up the path that led to Mulcahy’s home, the one that he had shared with Dr. Pierce for as long as anyone could remember… Rick had barely tapped on the door, when the door was flung open in earnest.
Mulcahy stood there in his grey Loyola sweatshirt, no collar, his blond hair slightly out of place like he’d been running his hands through it too often.His glasses were askew, as if he had just thrown them on. He looked surprised to see Rick, though not entirely. There was tension held tight under the surface, like he hadn’t sat down in hours.
“Rick,” he said. “I thought it might be Captain Riker.”
“He’s tied up,” Rick replied. “Figured I’d come by instead.” Mulcahy nodded and stepped aside without another word. The house felt warm, but something seemed to be missing. A pot of coffee sat on the table, still steaming hot. The phone lay nearby, the cord pulled just taut enough to suggest it had been picked up and set down again and again.
Dr. Benjamin Pierce stood in the kitchen doorway, his loud Hawaiian shirt a loud bright blue brightening up the room, a dish towel in his hands that he wasn’t really using. He looked up when Rick entered, his expression tight but controlled.
“You got something for us?” Ben asked, his face wound up tight with concern and fear.
Rick shook his head. “Not yet. Just trying to get a clearer picture.”
Mulcahy closed the door behind him. “We reported Hermione missing this morning,” he said, his voice steady but edged. “She didn’t come home last night.”
Rick nodded once. “That is what I heard this morning, too.”
Mulcahy went still for a fraction of a second, his mouth mouthing ‘too-’ faintly as he tilted his head in puzzlement, as if the confirmation settled something and unsettled something else at the same time. “Hermione had breakfast here yesterday,” he went on. “She didn't want to go to school. Said the other children were being unkind.” His jaw tightened slightly. “We made her go anyway.”
Ben exhaled through his nose. “Figured she’d be better off keeping her routine.” Rick nodded, knowing as a parent, he would probably have done the same thing himself with Carl or Judith.
“Mrs. Peletier said you took the girls out for Halloween?” Rick said as he pulled out his notepad and started to write down details.
Mulcahy nodded. “We did. Carol came with us, We kept it close to the church and the main road. The girls stayed together the entire time.”
“They usually do,” Ben added, quieter now. “If one goes somewhere, the other isn’t far behind.” Ben's hands waved in the air, the rag flying with his gesticulation as he tossed it on the nearby table.
Rick nodded in agreement. “Where’d you leave them?”
Mulcahy folded his arms loosely, thinking it through. “We walked them back toward the trailers. Ed wasn’t home yet. Carol said she’d take it from there.”
Ben’s mouth tightened. “We offered to keep Hermione another night. Wouldn’t have been the first time.” Mulcahy didn’t contradict him. It was practically public knowledge that the Grangers were often unavailable.
Rick shifted his weight. “Carol thinks Sophia might’ve come back here.” Both men looked at him. “She figured the girls would stay here if things got tense at home,” Rick added, holding up his notepad.
Ben shook his head immediately. “She didn’t come back.”
Mulcahy’s expression hardened, and Rick’s eyebrows rose. It was rare to see the priest so angry. “No,” he said. “If she had, we would know.” The room hung quiet and heavy.
“They were together,” Ben said after a moment, as if trying to anchor the thought, his head moving in a deep nod as he moved closer to Francis. “They left together.” Rick let that sit before speaking again.
“Sophia Peletier was reported missing this afternoon.”
The words landed heavier than he intended. Ben blinked, taken off guard. “No—she was with Hermione. We saw—” He stopped himself, his arm outstretched at the window that overlooked the street, where they could see the edge of the trailer park, right where the Peletier home was. Ben put his arm down, looking toward his partner. Rick could see the fear in his eyes.
Mulcahy’s brow furrowed deeply now. “They left together,” he repeated, slower this time as if he had not heard what the stoop-shouldered figure next to him had declared.
Rick nodded once. “Yeah.” It didn’t help.
Ben pushed a hand back through his hair, pacing a step before stopping again. “Then they’re together,” he said, though it sounded less certain now. “That’s… that’s something.” Mulcahy didn’t seem to share the confidence, taking off his glasses and cleaning the lens on his sweatshirt as Ben paced, his hands gesturing wildly as he spoke to Rick.
Rick let out a soft sigh and tried to keep his poker face with his eyes wide as he shrugged, “Got a statement from Merle Dixon. Says he saw them. Both of them.” Ben went still. Mulcahy stared at Rick, something sharp and disbelieving rising under his calm.
“That’s not possible,” Mulcahy said.
Ben let out a quiet breath, more controlled now, like he was forcing himself to think instead of react. “The timing’s off,” he said. “If Sophia didn’t come home, if we reported Hermione this morning—” Mulcahy’s gaze dropped briefly, then lifted again. When he spoke, there was anger in it now—not loud, but real.
“Ed Peletier was taken in this morning,” Mulcahy said. “Shane came by. I called it in.”
Rick’s attention sharpened. “You made the call?” Rick had been under the impression someone else had made the anonymous call; a neighbor or someone in the trailer park.
“Yes.” Mulcahy’s voice didn’t waver. “I’ve seen enough to know when a situation isn’t safe for a child. He was intoxicated and aggressive. It wasn’t going to get better on its own as usual.”
Ben huffed softly with a knowing look. “The Dixon boys got to him first.. I made sure Francis stayed; Merle and Daryl did their job.” the half-smile and glint in his eye said it all. Merle and Daryl had seen Carol and Sophia last night, not liking the fresh bruises on them and making sure Ed got a clear message. Mulcahy didn’t confirm it, but he didn’t deny it either. The set of his shoulders said enough. Rick put two and two together on Ed’s timeline.
“I made sure Shane picked him up before anything worse happened,” Ben added, quieter now. “That was the priority.”
Rick nodded slowly.That part made sense. All of it did. Except it didn’t explain the rest. It didn’t explain why both of them were missing now. Rick glanced toward the window, where the mist blurred the glass into a dull gray. “If either of you hear anything,” he said, “you call me. Anything at all.”
Mulcahy nodded. “You’ll be the first to know.”
Ben didn’t say anything. He just stood there, watching Rick like he was waiting for something else to be said, something Rick didn’t have yet. Rick stepped back toward the door, pausing only long enough to take in the room; the now- cold coffee, the silent phone, the way both men held on to each other for it to be anything but parents worrying over their absent charge. Rick moved outside, the air heavier than it had been before, for the first time since he’d started asking questions, something felt wrong.
XXXXXXXXXXX KING'S RIVER XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Rick eased the cruiser to a stop outside Dixon’s Automotive and cut the engine. The bay doors stood open, light spilling out onto the wet gravel. Inside, a car gleamed under the fluorescent lights. It was too clean, too expensive for a town like King’s River. A BMW 7 Series looked like it had taken a wrong turn somewhere miles back.
Merle stood over the engine, wrench in hand, while Daryl Dixon worked the other side, sleeves pushed up, hands black with grease. They didn’t look up right away, but Rick knew they’d clocked him the second he pulled in.
“Evenin’, Officer Friendly,” Merle said finally, without much interest. “Ya here about the car, or you finally decided to arrest me?” Rick stepped into the bay, boots tracking water across the concrete.
“Heard you paid Ed Peletier a visit.” That got Merle’s attention. He glanced over, expression flattening out.
“Man needed talkin’ to,” Merle said as Daryl stepped closer to Merle.
Rick held his gaze. “Dispatch says he came in this morning. Shane picked him up mid-morning. Means you boys waited until school would start.” Merle didn’t deny it. He set the wrench down with a quiet clink and wiped his hands on a rag.
“Ain’t doin’ that in front of children,” he said. “We ain’t monsters.”
“No,” Rick said evenly. “Just took care of it after.” Daryl shifted his weight, but didn’t look up. Rick let the silence stretch for a second, then moved on. “I talked to Father Mulcahy.” That landed differently. Not explosive—just a subtle tightening.
“Yeah?” Merle said.
“He told me he called it in. Said Ed wasn’t safe to leave where he was.”
Merle huffed a breath that might’ve been an agreement. “Fella knows what he’s lookin’ at.”
Rick nodded once. “Martin confirmed it. Said Mulcahy had a word with him, made sure Shane came out.” Daryl finally straightened a little, glancing toward Rick, then back to the car. Rick took another step in. “You also told me you saw Sophia,” he said. “With Hermione.”
Merle didn’t hesitate. “Yeah. I did.”
“Mulcahy says Hermione never came back after trick-or-treating,” Rick replied. “They reported her missing this morning.”
Merle frowned, like the words didn’t make sense in his mouth. “Then they’re wrong.”
Rick didn’t react. “Walk me through it again.”
Merle let out a slow breath, annoyed but steady. “They were here before Halloween. Together. Everywhere together. You seen one, you seen the other. Then Halloween night, they come by again, same as always. Pink umbrella, both of ’em under it. I give ’em candy, send ’em on their way.”
Daryl nodded faintly, his eyes meeting Rick’s eyes. “Saw ’em before, too,” he said. “Not just that night.”
Rick folded his arms. “You’re sure.”
“I’m sure,” Merle said, sharper now. “Ain’t the kind of thing you mix up.” He jerked his chin toward the road. “And don’t start tellin’ me one person grabbed both those girls without anybody seein’. Not here. Not like that. They stuck together too tight for that.”
Daryl wiped his hands on a rag and leaned back against the car. “They’re probably hidin’ out somewhere,” he said. “In the woods, maybe. Kids do that- hell, you got a Pa like Ed..”
Merle nodded. “Yeah.Stayin’ away from home. They’ll turn up.”
Rick let that sit, then shook his head slightly. “We’re not treating this like a runaway.”
Merle shrugged, but there was less certainty in it now. “Suit yourself.” He tossed the rag aside. “Me and Daryl can go out, take a look. We know the woods better than most. Cover more ground than your boys.”
Rick didn’t even consider it. “No.”
Merle raised a brow. “No?”
“I’m going to the station,” Rick said. “We’re handling it through there.”
Merle’s mouth twitched into a crooked smirk. “Yeah? Well, while you’re there, you can tell Ed we said hello.” Daryl let out a low huff of a laugh. Rick didn’t return it. He turned and stepped back out into the damp air, the quiet settling in around him again. As he reached the cruiser, he picked up the CB mic and keyed it.
“Dispatch, this is Grimes.”
A crackle, then Martin’s voice came through. “Go ahead.”
“Confirming—Ed Peletier brought in mid-morning?” Rick asked.
“Yeah,” Martin replied. “Walsh picked him up. Mulcahy called it in earlier. Cap wanted it handled.”
Rick nodded to himself. “Has he said anything?”
“Not much worth keepin’,” Martin said. “More noise than sense.”
Rick glanced back toward the garage, where the brothers had already returned to work, like none of this had anything to do with them.
“Alright,” he said. “I’m on my way in.” He set the mic back in place and stood there for a second, watching the rain hitting the asphalt, wondering if two little girls would have really run away to the woods. Rick pulled the door open and got back in, already turning the problem over in his head.
Yeah bitch, I did something. I know I've been quiet, life has been kicking my ass left and right, left me in a ditch for dead but it couldn't stop me from disassociating from reality enough to work on my fan fiction.
So.. I am not posting yet- i finally finished it, but I still need to edit it and flesh it out.. but I thought I'd drop some visuals and teasers for the next while to keep my dopamine going, and maybe get y'all interested.
Welcome to King's River. Population: too many fandoms. Yes, I know I'm weird, and not everyone likes ALL of my fandoms and pairings - but it's my sandbox, and I'm borrowing my favorite people from the fandoms and the occasional easter egg to some others. I went "what if?" and it is fanfiction, so...
a little snapshot from various places in King's River: Book 1. If y'all like it, I'll work a little harder and faster on editing and maybe actually start book 2.
Are you going to be uploading on here, I Had A Wife or just leave it be that Daryl has some of his family back, minus his wife as she’s been taken..🤨
ask away!
I am actually toying with those two options. I had originally just planned on leaving it be with the addition of a wrap up, but… I did have a plan to continue, but life just kept me busy with other ideas.
I do plan on wrapping it up nicely though, I always felt like I just left it a bit abruptly. I did have a whole outline. I just can’t write Negan and the saviors well.
I’m open to any asks, and thank you for inboxing me! I don’t get asks or messages often. 🫶🏻
who needs you --- John whispered in the dark, with a new fearful understanding.
I was watching Goodbye Farewell and Amen and I got bit by a new ship. I saw stirrings of potential for a new ship that has been unexplored as far as I know.
SS Hunnicutt/Mulcahy.
I’m working on a part two to this, kind of a sequel, but... figured I’d throw this out.
BJ was more than happy to go home. Peg, Erin- He had his dreams come true when he got that letter, rushing into the tent to tell Colonel Potter and Margaret. BJ blinked down with excitement at his friends, the people he had grown to love during his stay at the MASH 4077.
Mulcahy.
The Father looked at him with blue eyes, alight with excitement at his happiness. BJ couldn’t help but smile back, realizing that he wouldn’t see these people anymore, and he wouldn’t see this face every day. The blue eyes that kept him hoping that humanity was still out there. BJ didn’t have time to analyze that odd stab in his chest as he put away Erin’s pictures in his wallet.
BOOM
It was time to hide- BJ’s instincts had him under the table, but seconds later he saw Mulcahy running out to save the POW’s, making sure they got to safety. BJ had no time to blink, much less think about why his chest was tightening and why the blood felt like it was draining out of him, and his soul had left his body with a heavy breath.
“I got him.” BJ said as he knelt over Mulcahy, his hands moving rapidly to assess the situation. BJ’s hands felt strong and sure while he picked up the unconscious blonde priest, vaguely noting he was surprised at how heavy the man was, even if his build did not show it. On the table, BJ watched for his eyes to blink open, and watched for anything- anything.
“What did he say?” Mulcahy blinked up at BJ, his head moving with BJ’ hands wiping off the blood. BJ felt relaxed, his body leaning over Mulcahy as he sank into the familiarity of the meinal task at hand, knowing Mulcahy’s injuries were mild and not severe with a potential concussion rather than what could have been.
“He said you’re quite a guy.”
“What? Why are you both mumbling?” BJ felt a chill shoot down his spine, and his mustache prickled. Leaning back, he tilted his head towards Mulcahy to assess the situation with the lightning-quick thinking he had developed over the time he had spent in the MASH unit.
“Okay, turn your head.” BJ quickly, efficiently, and carefully moved Mulcahy’s head, grabbing the tool at hand to check out the inner ear to assess the damage, his professionalism kicking in, ignoring how warm the body felt beneath his hands.
“I’m having trouble hearing you -- what’s wrong with me?” BJ could hear the slight tremor in the voice, and the change in Mulcahy, concern beginning to seep into the other man’s words as he spoke breathlessly. BJ moved closer to Mulcahy, his brow furrowed in worry and concentration.
“Do you have a ringing or buzzing in your ears?” BJ remained close to Mulcahy, his eyes watching Mulcahy’s face closely, watching his eyes and face for any signs of distress or deception, he had learned the priest would go above and beyond to conceal any signs of distress, not wanting other to worry about him. BJ had learned most of Mulcahy’s tells from playing poker with the man for what felt like ages.
“Yes. Yes I have.” The eyes changed from fearful to anxious, to mildly puzzled.
“you may have done some damage to the inner ear- Tinnitus.” BJ remained close, speaking slightly louder and enunciating his words as he had learned to do with some of his hard of hearing patients and friends in San Francisco, which was close to the deaf school in Berkeley. A flash of gratitude swept through him as he tried to recall what he had learned about speaking with people who had hearing loss.
“Well, that’s not serious is it?” Mulcahy asked as his eyes began to search for BJ. BJ shook his head, remaining close to Mulcahy’s ear.
“I won’t know for sure until I get your hearing test but I’m kind of concerned.” BJ nodded as his eyes remained on Mulcahy, able to maintain a sudden sense of calm as his memories kicked in.
“Oh, why-- concerned?” Mulcahy asked with a puzzled twitch of his mouth, moving slightly to tilt his head towards BJ as he sank back down into his clinical knowledge.
“Well, if you’ve damaged the never center you could lose your hearing today. What I’d like to do is get you down to the evac hospital for diagnosis and observation.” At that, Mulcahy’s head moved fully towards BJ. Mulcahy finally made full eye contact with BJ.
“Well they wouldn’t send me home because of this.... would they?” Mulcahy asked with a slight stab of cold fear trailing through the end of his words. BJ tilted his head to indicate his unfortunate answer, his face becoming far more expressive.
“If it doesn’t get better, they might. It depends how bad it gets.” BJ moved back slightly as Mulcahy sat up with a sense of urgency. His eyes darkened as they met BJ’s, a stern shadow of determination coloring his eyes to a dark blue, BJ had never noticed that hue on Mulcahy before. It was as if Mulcahy was becoming a whole different person, a new person for BJ to meet all of a sudden. He didn’t see a priest anymore, just a corpsman with a savior complex and a streak of Irish temperament in him a mile wide. BJ blinked the tingling thought away for another time as his eyes watched Mulcahy.
“Listen. There are forty children at sister teresa’s orphanage; I bring the food and clothing and medicine. They depend on me.” Mulcahy leaned forward slightly towards BJ. BJ shook his head in response.
“I know you’re the only father they’ve got.” he said half in quip with a half-smile, his blue eyes glinting with soft humor and warmth. His eyes looked up towards Mulcahy, who reached out towards him, gripping the lapel of his white coat.
“I’m not leaving here--” he said severely, his head moving in a slow shake. “If I have to leave them in the lurch --- “ He leaned forward, his words heating up with anger and determination. “I want you to give me your solemn promise that no one except you will know about this.” His eyes burned into BJ, BJ understood the depth and severity of Mulcahy’s need for reassurance and understanding.
“Okay Father, I understand. This is just between you and me.” he said plainly and firmly, his eyes wide and his face a mask of serene acceptance. He had suddenly realized with a stroke of understanding that this would never be the same again. Mulcahy was no longer his old self. He was an entirely new man, and BJ was not sure how he felt about that situation.
“What?” Mulcahy leaned forward. BJ nodded his head, visually indicating his understanding as Mulcahy slowly nodded back, his sharp eyes losing their edge and growing soft with confusion and vague realizations of what was to come.
Nothing would be the same again--- the priest had disappeared, down to the collar- where had the collar gone--?
BJ inhaled the realization that
Mulcahy was no longer Father Mulcahy. not even Francis.
who was he....?? BJ wondered as he fell into his work.
So I'm working on this thing. For me. For myself. So here is a mood board for it. I'm still learning and working on how to do things but I really like how I'm organizing everything before I start. It seems to help me actually FINISH my writing.
King's River: where secrets lie. When is it one secret too many? Is it worth dying for?
come visit King's River, where the townspeople all have something to hide. Secrets of the flesh, secrets of the soul, and secrets of the heart. But most of all, the secrets of the past...
I'm feeling so awkward but so proud and so tired so yeah. Another rabbit hole, so I'm harnessing up Rudolph and the reindeer and riding that bitch down while it lasts. I'm not sure when I will post the actual story.
Now I am going to bed to sleep and to hopefully dream of more inspiration for this thing. Or Hell, any fanfiction I can dream up. Sweet, sweet smutty dreams.
I have this fic that is stuck in my head so I rabbit-holed the whole thing and made all of the aesthetics for it before even writing it. Jesus. So here, a reward for myself. Ish.
Basically I made up a town. Full of interesting people and a lot of secrets that need to be broken and exposed. Of course, it happens right when a nosy family moves in town...
