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#IS THE GRIEF FINALLY ALL-CONSUMING
starheirxero · 5 months
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MOON IS INSANE CRAB RAVE🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀
I JUST SAW THE THUMBNAIL WJAT IS HAPPENING!!!!
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benevolenterrancy · 13 days
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May your hardened heart be woken By the soft and distant song Of all you left here unspoken All the shards we keep stepping on - Take this body home Take this body home Call the wind, and let her know Take this life outgrown Take this broken soul Call the stars, call them all And take it high, take it far, take it home
#svsss#luo binghe#shen qingqiu#bingqiu#sqq#lbh#scum villain#heard the song Take This Body Home by Rose Betts and it nearly took me out at the knees#it really really suits sqq's self-detonation in hua yue city right? i'm not the only one feeling this?#considered adding some literal shards for them to be stepping on - since sqq's sword explodes - but i couldn't quite make it work#anyway this has been playing like a music video in my head for the past couple days highly recommend listening to the song#if you haven't heard it before#can't get over the absolute dissonance between how sqq views this scene and how everyone else must feel about it#like to him he's just completing his plan - hopefully keeping lbh from destroying a city with energy imbalance and escaping The Plot#nbd! he and sqh have planned it all out it's FINE :) off he goes!#meanwhile everyone who loves him - including lbh who worked years to get back to him and is trying to work through a lot of grief#and resentment and doubt and longing and... - watches him DIE in FRONT OF THEM#just collapse while coughing up blood sword disintegrating energy completely consumed#like holy hell sqq could you traumatize the people around you any more???#no wonder lbh went a little bit crazy after that like my man was already not in a great place but what the fuck#lbh watches his shizun presumably sacrifice himself for him ONCE AGAIN like after he's finally Gotten Strong his shizun is STILL#coming to harm in an effort to make up for his shortcomings#my art#most of the time out here drawing what amounts to muppets and then sometimes i get the urge for this and just need to cover everyone in blo
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am0ngtheb0nes · 11 months
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A fun art work of my FFXIV WOL Rhyme
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salsa-di-pomodoro · 2 years
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Me when five pebbles encounter saint
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favvnsongs · 1 year
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nearly twelve in the night and im having som Emotions about wash&lina ;__;
#the rookie who always always felt subpar and insufficient and lackluster compared to the rest of them#the protégé who try as she might could never Ever get the right sort of acknowledgment and attention and care from her father that#she likely desperately needed but had gone so long without that it doesnt even feel worth it to dwell on anymore#the perfectionism the cocky attitude the arrogance. perfact flawless carolina until she Wasnt until she took backseat Again to#her father's grief and obsession and fixation on her long dead mother. literally competing with her mothers shadow for her fathers#praise and approval and care. the 'youve given me everything. id do anything for you' but has he? did he? did he do it For Her or did she#just rationalize that. no but. wash so low on the alpha squad totem pole the worst member of the team the rookie fuckup even tho#like. he wasnt?? but thats the way it seemed thats how people talked to him. never ever good enough.#and epsilon!! finally finally the context the level playing feild the understanding that yeah okay maybe the gap isnt so terribly wide#the last two left and the vengence wasnt sweet and justice wasnt really served and theyll never get their friends back#the last two remnants of the project and epsilon there to tie them together and then even! even eventually epsilon is gone!#friends partners allies siblings weird messy all consuming loving one another. everything and anything bc what else is there! who Else is#there that could ever possibly come close to understanding#fuck! jfc ;__;#rvb nonsense
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aroaessidhe · 1 year
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2023 reads
The Undead Truth of Us
YA contemporary magical realism
a girl grieving her mother after she seemingly turned into a zombie - that only she could see
she meets a boy who lives into her building who seems to be half zombie, befriends him to see if she can figure out why she’s seeing zombies, and starts to fall for him
poetic writing, explores grief
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orphyd · 2 years
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🧍🏾‍♀️
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did zenos kill eyrie in UT? yeah. did he regret it enough that the dynamis dragged eyrie back to their body? a bit yea
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voulezloux · 2 months
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x
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themaidenofwords · 2 months
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Have I mentioned how gut wrenching the slow progression from "Jonathan Sims-- Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London" to "Jonathan Sims-- The Archivist" is?
These are Jon's introductions of himself. He had already had people simply calling him "The Archivist" way back in season one, but he never introduced himself that way. He declared his title of Archivist as what he saw it to be-- a job title and nothing more.
And then we reached season three and there was a gap where we had "Jonathan Sims, former Archivist" and the words were still spoken as one would a job title but with a certain sense of grief that was incongruous with the professional veneer.
And finally, the reveal of what the Archives were and what being The Archivist truly meant happened, and Jon stopped pretending-- even to himself-- that it was just a job. No, he was Jonathan Sims-- The Archivist-- and it was spoken with the gravitas and responsibility of a king's title. It was now part of who he was.
And then, season five, and it's no longer "Jonathan Sims--". It is merely "The Archivist". Because Jon believes his humanity to have died along with the world he was tricked into dooming. His person-hood is secondary-- and can perhaps be considered more of a job title now in a similar way to how Jon referred to being The Archivist in season one. In season five, Jon believes his entire being to have been consumed by the Watcher. The Archives and his job as the Archivist can no longer be seen as a job, or even as a part of who he is, because it is ALL he is. There is no part remaining of Jonathan Sims, because he is The Archivist first and foremost. He doesn't believe his own humanity great enough to be mentioned.
He is, of course, wrong. But it wouldn't be a tragedy if he didn't realize that until it was too late.
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countlessimagines · 2 months
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Your World [ Wolverine x Reader ]
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Summary: your Wolverine was your whole world.
A/N: I like writing angsty stuff and this movie provided me with the best possible scenarios <3 hehehe I love wolverine
Warnings: Cussing, mentions of blood
Marvel MASTERLIST Link here
SPOILERS BELOW
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It wasn’t an ideal love story that brought you back to Logan.
Being a mutant with incredible healing abilities and a broken heart made it so easy for Stryker to capture you. Your Wolverine had been the one to rescue you from the clutches of Stryker and the horrible fate that loomed over your head. All the days of experiments and cold rooms where you’d be injected with who knows what, it all lead to him.
But you always had to remind yourself that Logan had gotten you out, made you a X-Men, but found the brutal truth of how dangerous it was to be loved by you.
You loved deeply and endlessly, like a void waiting for eternity to be loved and to love. Logan was exactly what your heart desired for years.
Someone who could never die, never leave you.
Fighting alongside each other became a beautiful symphony. And God protect anyone who caused you harm, because Logan would only see red and slice them to pieces. It was a miracle none of the X-men had been torn to shreds, but Scott always came close.
The team would always joke about your relationship, saying how could an innocent soul be in love with such a brute like Wolverine.
But Logan knew the only way he could breathe was to be with you, to hold you, to kiss and love you.
He would always find his way to you no matter the circumstance.
Beast was holding you in the infirmary because he wanted to run tests? Logan was there.
Storm and Jean wanted to have a girls night? Logan was sitting outside the room in case anything happened.
Scott was training you in hand to hand combat? Logan was definitely there.
Your world consisted of him and him only.
And maybe that is why it hurt so much when he let your entire team die, because you had not made them your whole world.
You had been away on a mission by yourself when you received the news of their passing. You returned to a bloodied home, no sign of Wolverine to be found.
Life began to blur after what happened. You had to go into hiding, because people blamed you for what happened, too. And there was no one there to stop you from spiraling into a flurry of self hatred.
Hatred for what you had become. A love sick puppy so consumed with Logan only. Maybe if you had been there, maybe if you hadn’t put so much trust in him, maybe if you could have taken the hits for your team.
And the thought that stuck with you the most, if you had been there, screaming for help - would Logan had only saved you and left the rest to die?
Because the love you shared was slowly becoming so obvious to you that it was not pure or natural, but rather so simple it would have made you and Logan public enemy number one.
But you supposed that had already happened, too.
Your mutant abilities were the only thing you had left, so you consumed yourself in underground work. Becoming exactly what the X-men had fought against.
Shedding your uniform, you had to separate yourself from the X-men because people recognized you too easily. It was hard to find any work where people wanted a tainted mutant.
You tried your hardest to not let every moment be consumed by the thought of Logan. He had never reached out to you after the event, despite the grief between you so overwhelmingly strong. He couldn’t face you and love someone who would have stepped through hell and back for him.
He felt as if he didn’t deserve it.
So time continued to pass as the bond between the two of you was severed so deeply that it was suffocating to be apart.
But it wasn’t until Deadpool showed up to your apartment that you were finally addressing your past.
“Leave, now. I’m not hearing any of your bullshit.” You tried to close your door but he stopped it.
“Please, c’mon. I need you! Wolverine needs you!”
You tensed at the mere mention of him. “If he needed me so desperately, it is far too late for him to come back.”
“But you’re his one and only, for fuck’s sake! Every variant I’ve met of him has had a you stalking around like a lap dog. You know how many of you’s have beaten the shit out of me?” He rambled on, and you rolled your eyes.
“I don’t care to understand what you’re saying, so goodbye, Wade!”
Deadpool sighed before kicking the door in and stabbing you through the chest with one of his blades. You stared at him in shock and couldn’t register anything as he flung you over his shoulder into an orange portal.
You landed on a hard ground that pushed the blade out of you. “Wade, you’re a dead man.”
He stepped through the portal and leaned over your body. “Sorry about that, but I can’t die so you’re stuck with not only me, but Wolverine!”
Deadpool giggled and ran off, making sure to rip the blade out of your stomach. You winced but felt your regeneration cells working to stitch you back together.
Slowly sitting up, you spat out blood.
“I tried to tell him not to bring you into this.”
You froze at the voice you fought to forget, willing calm into your fast beating heart.
Sitting up fully only made your legs wobble and your head spin. But you had to look up into the eyes of the man you still loved.
Logan looked different, healthier and happier. It only made you feel sick.
“I’ve been busy.” He said it so casually that it made you want to slap his chest for the lack of greeting. “Wade gave me a second chance. I helped save his world.”
“You haven’t seen me in years and you choose to brag?” You scoffed, removing your shirt to assess the damage Wade had done to your shirt.
Logan sucked in a breath as he took in your battle worn scars. Despite your healing factor, you still kept every scar from every wound you had endured.
He remembered the last time he saw you, you only adorned a few on your chest and stomach.
Now it was littered with them.
“You’ve been busy too, I gather?” Logan said with a hint of sarcasm.
You glared at him. “Why am I here?”
“Wade thought that I needed you.” He admitted it with such ease, like he knew it to be true in his heart.
“And? Do you need me?”
He hesitated before answering. “I’ve always needed you… and I think that’s why I let myself go for so many years. Because I knew that no matter what I did or said to you, you would never forgive me. I would always be the one who let our team die… let you go.”
“Well you’re right, because I never would forgive you. Not after abandoning all of us,” you choked out, the tears beginning to creep into the corners of your eyes. “I loved you fiercely, Logan. All it would have taken was one call during those first few days and I would have been there for you. We could’ve been healing together. But you chose this life of despair for both of us, Logan.”
“I know.” He said, his own eyes watering.
“I despise you.” You said, but your heart was breaking, letting out the true feelings. It was bleeding for him and for him only.
Logan stepped closer and you did not stop him.
“I want nothing to do with you.” You said, your voice cracking.
“I understand.” He said, five feet away from you now.
“I hate you.” You began to weep, the blood in your heart revealing what you wanted truly.
“I don’t blame you.” Logan closed the gap between the two of you, holding you close to his chest. You cried into his shoulder, holding on for dear life. “I’m never leaving you again.”
All you could muster was a small nod, your tears staining his shirt. His own were dripping onto the top of your head.
And in the empty apartment, you and Logan stood, holding onto each other.
Holding your world together.
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maxtermind · 5 months
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my boy only breaks his favorite toys
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★ : summary :: when he cheats on you ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: angst ★ : word count :: 5k ★ : a/n :: please remember that all of this is fiction! anyway, enjoy the angst <3 cheating is not a slip up but a statement and i will not be writing a part 2 where they get back together :) as usual requests are open for other endings if you're interested (maybe she ends up with someone else on the grid to make it hurt more lol) ★ : gifs :: @\f1-stuff @\userhamilton @\slowestlap @\tyrannosaurus-maxy
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Max Verstappen
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Max and you had a pretty healthy work schedule. Thanks to your flexible remote work, you could travel with him and support him in person. But there were times when you were needed back at the home office but despite the distance, Max made sure to keep you in the loop.
From video calls, to texting whenever one was free, to random pictures shared, you were always pretty aware of what the other was doing. So imagine your shock when minutes after hanging up on a call after congratulating him on his win, you failed to get a hold of him before pictures of him started going viral.
But now, all of that seemed like a distant memory as you stared at the damning evidence on your phone. Pictures of Max, smiling and carefree, dancing with another woman in a crowded club, her arms wrapped around him possessively.
Your heart sank as you scrolled through the images, each one a painful reminder of the betrayal you never saw coming. And then, there it was, the blurry photo that confirmed your worst fears - Max and the other woman locked in a passionate kiss.
The world around you seemed to blur as well as tears welled up in your eyes, hot and bitter against your cheeks. Without thinking, you began to dial Max's number, your fingers trembling with a mixture of anger and desperation.
But each call went unanswered, each voicemail left unheard. With each unanswered ring, your heart broke a little more, until you could no longer bear the weight of your pain.
It was an hour later when you were in your bed, crying your eyes out when your phone finally lit up with Max's name, the screen casting a harsh glow in the dimness of your room.
As much as your head told you to hang up and let that be the final answer, you picked it up and whispered a low. ”Hi?” Your voice barely a whisper, choked with emotion.
”Y/N,” Max’s breathy voice came. It was enough to throw you off again and new tears gathered in your eyes.
”Where were you?” The words escaped your lips before you could stop them, raw with hurt and anguish.
”Baby…” Max's voice wavered, and you could hear the weight of his guilt in every syllable. It spoke volumes, you knew what had happened and he knew that. ”I’m so sorry, Y/N.”
Your chest tightened at his words, the pain of his deceit threatening to consume you whole. And then, without warning, a strangled sob escaped your lips, the sound echoing in the silence of the room.
You could hear Max's sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, a sound that only served to intensify your grief. But you were beyond caring about appearances now, your heart laid bare for him to see.
”I trusted you,” you choked out between sobs, the words a bitter indictment of the love you had once shared. ”Why would you do this to me?”
How could the man that made you feel like the only girl in the world for him do this to you? Did he even love you or was he just a really good actor?
Your voice quivered with pain as you struggled to maintain your composure,”You've broken me in ways I didn't even know were possible.”
Max's voice wavered as he tried to find the right words to express his remorse,”I never meant to hurt you, it was the biggest mistake of my life.” 
The life he has made sure he spent with someone not you. His voice cracked further and you realized that he was also crying on the other end. ”I can't bear the thought of not having you in my life.”
There was a long pause, as if Max was searching for the right words to say. But what words could possibly undo the damage that had already been done, the trust that had been shattered beyond repair?
Your words cut through him, echoing the pain he had caused,”Did… did you even love me, Max?”
”Of course, I love you!” He spoke, his voice carrying a sense of hurt. As if questioning the audacity to even ask that and that angered you. It made you so mad because this was on him. He did this.
”I wish I could turn back time and make things right, I’m so sorry, Y/N.” Max's breath hitched as he spoke before you could. The wounds he had inflicted too deep to be healed with a simple apology. ”I never meant to make you doubt my love for you.”
And as you listened to his voice crack with emotion, you knew that there was only one thing left to do. ”I don't even recognize the person I fell in love with anymore.” You whispered with finality, your voice filled with a mixture of sadness and disbelief.
Was this really the man who had promised you a future filled with a family and laughter? The man who just made your heart bleed out?
Max caught on and rushed to get the words out,”Please, Y/N, don't hang up. I need you more than ever, I love y-”
You hung up because how dare he say that after what he did. He called you again and again after that and if you weren’t half dying in your apartment, maybe you could’ve scoffed at how the roles were switched.
However, all you could do was switch off your phone and wonder how the man who once kissed all your scars better, could leave deeper ones in their place. Leaving you to do the work to mend them all alone.
Lewis Hamilton
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It had all started the day you had foolishly decided to set up lunch to have the two most important people in your life, your bestfriend and your boyfriend, meet.
Lewis seemed genuinely enthusiastic about finally meeting the person who had been such a solid support in your life. Little did you anticipate that this innocent gathering would unravel into a scene of deception.
The signs were subtle at first. A quick exchange of numbers, a glance shared behind your back– easy to dismiss as innocent. But why would you look for such signs? When it included your most trusted humans on the planet?
But then came the slips, the accidental mentions of knowing each other's whereabouts better than you did.
”I don't think she'll pick up, she said she had an afternoon meeti-” Lewis caught himself on time before shrugging and ending with a: ”She posted it on her instagram, did you miss it?”
You laughed it off though it irked you. You were just glad that they were close before...
After an especially tiring day, you finally entered your house. Surprised to see the sitting room empty, where Lewis waits for you every time he's home early.
You sighed, instinctively petting Roscoe before moving inside the house. Desperate for a shower and clean clothes to get the day's stench off of you.
So imagine your shock when you walked into your bedroom,to discover Lewis and Rachel entwined in your bed, their bodies exposed and vulnerable. In your bed.
It took a second for you to process it while they both scrambled to get their clothes on. You just stared in disbelief while Rachel cried on the bed under covers and Lewis frantically wore his clothes while saying… something?
You felt like you were underwater for a second because you saw his mouth moving before his words started registering and tears started to pool in your eyes. The pain felt tangible, like a weight pressing down on your chest, as you confronted the unthinkable reality of their infidelity.
”Baby, let me explain. Ple- Please, this isn't what it looks like... I-”
You tore your eyes away from him before looking over at Rachel who was crying because she probably understood exactly what was happening.
You wanted to ask what exactly Lewis thought was going on but decided not to because your throat was closing up. The image of them together was burned into your brain. You just shook your head as tears fell from your eyes before turning around and walking out of the room.
As Lewis desperately jumbled to dress himself, his hands fumbling with buttons and zippers, he pleaded with you, his voice cracking with desperation.
”Y/N, please, you have to listen to me. This isn't what it looks like, I swear,” he implored, his eyes wide with panic as he reached out to touch your arm, but you flinched away as if his touch burned. Feeling disgusted and deceived.
”What do you mean it's not what it looks like?!” you finally managed to choke out, your voice trembling with damage and betrayal. ”I come home to find you two... in our bed, na- naked!”
Lewis's face contorted in anguish, his mind racing for the right words to say, but nothing seemed adequate in the face of your devastation.
”It's... it's a misunderstanding, Y/N, I promise,” he stammered, his voice strained with emotion. ”Rachel and I... we didn't plan for this to happen. It's just... things got out of hand, and we never meant to do you wrong.”
You shook your head in disbelief because you didn’t know what else to do truly, feeling as if the ground had been pulled out from beneath you. ”How could you do this to me, Lewis? I thought you… that you loved me,” your voice turned in a whisper.
All the times he had discussed the future rushed through your mind. He wanted to retire and repeatedly told you how he wanted to marry you. Your hands trembled as you suddenly remembered asking Rachel to be your bridesmaid.
Suddenly, the pressure on your chest got worse.
Lewis's eyes pleaded with you, his voice barely a whisper as he struggled to find the right words. ”I don't know, Y/N. I don't know what came over me. I love you, you have to believe me. Please don't leave, we can work through this together.”
But his words fell on deaf ears as you turned away from him, the pain in your heart too raw to bear. ”I trusted you, Lewis. I trusted both of you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.
As you moved towards the door, every step heavier than the last, Lewis's voice trembled with desperation, his hands reaching out to grasp yours, pleading for your attention.
”Y/N, please, don't leave,” he begged, his voice cracking with raw emotion. ”I messed up, I know I did, but I love you. Please, let me make it right.”
You paused, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. ”How can you say you love me after what you did?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper, thick with pain.
And with that, you turned away, leaving behind the shattered remains of the life you had once shared, the echoes of Lewis's pleas fading into the emptiness of the night. Swearing to never put your trust in anyone else ever again.
Carlos Sainz
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You had sworn off of relationships for so long after your last one that it was honestly a miracle, as your friends and family put it, that you agreed to go out with Carlos. But he was the perfect gentleman to you. The person who gave you hope for a better future. Giving you hope that maybe all the ‘cheesy’ discourse was for you too.
He knew how you were hurt the last time and reassured you about how special you were to him and how you were always enough. Enough for him.
It slowly became a running joke once you guys hit the two year mark. You were finally at a stage where you had a loving partner that you could trust blindly.
So to say that you were blindsided would be an understatement…
Your fingers trembled as you scrolled through Carlos's phone, your heart racing with each new message that appeared on the screen.
You never thought you'd be the type to snoop, but the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach had become too much to ignore. He was so distant lately and so secretive about his phone, it was slowly killing you.
There it was, undeniable proof staring back at you in blue and white. Messages from an unknown number, filled with suggestive language and promises of secrecy. Your breath got caught in your throat as you read through the damning evidence, your heart sinking with each word.
‘Hey babe, can't wait to see you tonight ;) xoxo’
The message hit you like a punch to the gut, your mind reeling with disbelief. How could Carlos do this to you? You thought you had something special, something worth fighting for. But now, all those hopes and dreams lay shattered at your feet.
You tried to push down the rising tide of emotion, to find some innocent explanation for what you were seeing. But deep down, you knew the truth – Carlos was cheating on you.
When he emerged from the bathroom, you were waiting for him, phone in hand and tears in your eyes. And as you looked into his eyes, you knew that nothing would ever be the same again.
”Carlos,” you whispered, the weight of your words heavy in the air as he stepped into the room, his tousled hair and relaxed demeanor a stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside you.
You weren’t really sure why you weren’t screaming and thrashing things around already. It was like you were frozen on the spot.
”What's wrong?” he asked, concern etched into his features as he took in your tear-streaked face and the phone clutched tightly in your hand. Though, when you looked at him, all you could see was how he was your everything. How you had given him your everything.
And you still weren’t enough.
You struggled to find the words, to articulate the emotions coursing through you. ”I found... I found something on your phone,” you finally managed, your voice trembling with emotion.
Carlos's expression faltered, his eyes flickering with uncertainty as he took a hesitant step closer. ”What do you mean?” he asked, his voice tinged with apprehension.
You took a shaky breath, steeling yourself for the confrontation to come. ”Messages,” you began, your voice barely audible as you held up the phone, displaying the incriminating evidence for him to see. ”From someone... someone you've been seeing behind my back.”
Carlos's eyes widened in shock as he stared at the screen, his hand instinctively reaching out to take the phone from you. ”Y/N, I swear, I can explain,” he stammered, his voice tinged with desperation. Why was he reaching for the phone and not your hand?
But the words fell on deaf ears as the full weight of his betrayal hit you like a ton of bricks. ”Explain?” you echoed, your voice trembling with disbelief. ”How can you even explain this, Carlos? How could you do this to me?”
He reached out to touch you, to offer comfort or reassurance, but you recoiled, the sting of his infidelity too raw and painful to bear. ”I trusted you,” you choked out, tears streaming down your face as you backed away from him. ”How could you-”
Can love like this be lost too? You’ve been on your knees begging the universe to grant you one love that wouldn’t be snatched from you. Thinking all your prayers had been heard only for him to do it too.
Carlos's expression crumbled as he watched you retreat, his own anguish mirroring yours. ”I never meant for this to happen,” he pleaded, his voice thick with emotion. ”Please, Y/N, give me a chance to make things right.”
As Carlos pleaded with you, his words heavy with desperation, you couldn't help but feel a pang of doubt. His promises of love and devotion clashed with the evidence on his phone, leaving you torn between the man you thought you knew and the painful truth staring back at you.
You met his gaze, seeing the desperation etched into his features as he struggled to make you believe him. ”Can you hear me?” he implored, desperation lacing his words. ”You are always enough for me. Please, you have to believe me. I love you more than anything, Y/N.”
His words pulled at your heartstrings, the sincerity in his voice almost convincing you to give him another chance. But deep down, you knew that trust once broken was not easily repaired.
You met his gaze, feeling the weight of his plea bearing down on you. ”I hear you,” you replied softly, nodding through your tears, your voice tinged with sadness. ”But it's not that simple, Carlos. I want to believe you, but...”
Carlos's grip on you tightened, his body pressing against yours as he sought solace in your embrace. ”Please, don't leave,” he whispered, his voice filled with desperation. ”I'll do anything to make this right, to prove to you that you're the only one for me.”
Tears welled in your eyes as you pulled away, the pain of betrayal still raw and agonizing. ”No,” you murmured, your voice barely audible above the sound of your breaking heart. ”You did to us. You made me believe… I'm leaving. This is goodbye.”
With that, you turned and walked away, leaving Carlos standing alone in the wreckage of your brutally murdered relationship.
Charles Leclerc
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You had rushed back home because for the first time in what feels like forever, your boyfriend was back home. Charles was a man of many charms. Despite being with him for so long, he still had you blushing and getting butterflies every time he was around.
He was busy when you got home so you decided to wash up but as you paced back and forth in the living room, your heart racing with anxiety, you didn’t know what to do to figure out what exactly Charles was doing.
Charles had been on the phone for what felt like hours, his voice hushed but urgent as he spoke to someone on the other end of the line. Normally, you wouldn't think much of it, but something about his tone tonight had set off alarm bells in your mind.
You tried to focus on a book, anything to distract yourself from the gnawing feeling of unease in the pit of your stomach. But every word you read seemed to blur together, your mind consumed with worry.
Finally, you couldn't take it anymore. With trembling hands, you set the book aside and made your way to the kitchen, where Charles was still on the phone.
”...I can't risk it tonight,” you heard him say, his tone strained ”She's coming home soon, and I don't want to risk it.”
Your heart skipped a beat at his words. Who was he talking about? And why did he sound so nervous?
Curiosity getting the better of you, you crept closer, straining to hear the other end of the conversation.
”...I know, I know,” Charles continued, his voice growing even more frantic. ”But I can't keep doing this. It's not fair to her, and it's not fair to you.”
Your blood ran cold at his words. What did he mean, ‘not fair to her?’ And who the fuck was he talking to?
Before you could process it all, Charles abruptly ended the call and turned to find you standing in the doorway, your eyes wide with shock and hurt.
”Y/N,” he started, his voice wavering as he took in your expression. ”I... I didn't realize you were there.”
You struggled to find your voice, your mind racing with a thousand questions. ”Who were you talking to, Charles?” you managed to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper.
Charles' eyes flickered with guilt as he shifted uncomfortably under your gaze. ”It's... it's nothing, Y/N,” he stammered, but you could tell he was lying. ”Just a friend.”
But you weren't buying it. Not after what you had just heard. ”A friend?” you repeated, your voice rising with anger and hurt. ”Is that what you call my replacement?”
Charles' face paled at your accusation, his eyes widening in shock. ”Baby, it's not what you think,” he protested, but you could hear the desperation in his voice. He looked so scared, as if he knew he was gonna get caught up into lies.
”Then what is it, Charles?” you demanded, your voice trembling with emotion. ”Enlighten me.”
He hesitated, his gaze flickering away from yours as if unable to meet your eyes. ”It's... it's complicated,” he finally admitted, but his words offered little comfort.
”There's nothing complicated about cheating on someone you claim to love.” You were trying to compose yourself, not show him how deeply his words had cut you but your hands were trembling and your voice was cracking. Face pale and eyes glassy.
Charles winced at your words, his guilt written plainly across his face. ”You’re the only person I love,” he insisted, his voice barely above a whisper. ”It's just... things got out of hand.”
You felt like you had been punched in the gut. How could he stand there and try to justify his betrayal? How could he expect you to forgive him after this? Why the fuck was he the one looking distort?
”I trusted you, Charles,” you choked out, tears welling in your eyes. He shouldn’t be expecting you to treat him as a victim too when he was the one guilty. ”I thought we had something special.”
Charles' expression softened, his eyes brimming with remorse. ”We do, Y/N,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. ”I love you, more than anything. Please, you have to believe me.”
But love now felt like a distant memory, tarnished by his infidelity. ”How can I believe anything you say after this?” You scoffed bitterly. Angry at yourself for crying in front of the man who has probably been sleeping with someone else for months now.
Charles reached out to you, his hand trembling as he brushed a tear from your cheek. ”I'll do anything to make it up to you, Y/N,” he pleaded, his voice filled with desperation. ”Just give me a chance to prove it.”
You whispered, your voice heavy with resignation,”There are no second chances for cheaters.”
Lando Norris
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Because of multiple torments inflicted by past lovers, you were always resistant to fall head first in any relationship. Hesitant to give your heart knowing recovering was going to be the absolute worst.
Comes in, Lando. The man who broke through all your barriers, took down the walls you put around yourself and had you love struck in a matter of time.
For a moment, everything was amazing. He was the best person you could've asked for. He looked at you as if you put the stars up in the sky.
Who could've thought?
Who could've thought that the same fucking man would have you breaking down at a family event in front of everyone.
The room buzzed with conversation as you sat at the dinner table, trying to ignore the growing tension in the air.
Lando's hand found yours under the table, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your palm. ”Are you okay?” he whispered, concern etched in his voice.
You forced a smile, nodding faintly. ”Yeah, just a bit overwhelmed,” you murmured, hoping to brush off your unease. Why was everyone looking at you with such pity?
But Lando's gaze remained fixed on you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of distress. ”You know you can talk to me, right?” he said softly, squeezing your hand gently.
Before you could respond, a sudden hush fell over the room, drawing your attention to the commotion across the room. You followed Lando's gaze, your heart sinking as you saw him make eye contact with one of your cousins, their faces morphing as if they were having a whispered conversation.
”What's going on?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as dread coiled in the pit of your stomach.
You have seen this scene before and you did not like where this was going. Feeling overwhelmed, you got up and excused yourself from the table. Slightly glad to have Lando do the same.
This was all a confusion. You repeated in your head before standing outside the venue, away from distressed eyes and hushed gossips.
Lando's grip on your hand tightened, his expression unreadable as he turned to face you. ”I... I need to talk to you,” he said, his voice strained with emotion.
Your heart plummeted as you watched him fidget, every step feeling like a weight bearing down on your chest. ”What is it?” you asked, your voice trembling with apprehension.
Lando hesitated, his eyes darting away from yours as if unable to meet your gaze. ”I... I don't know how to say this,” he began, his voice faltering.
Just then, your cousin appeared at his side, her expression a mix of guilt and defiance. ”Y/N, we need to talk,” she said, her voice tinged with remorse.
They exchanged another glance and something in your mind stopped working.
Your breath caught in your throat as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, the truth hitting you like a sledgehammer to the chest. ”No...” you whispered, the word barely a breath as tears welled in your eyes.
Lando reached out to you as you took a step away from them, his voice a desperate plea. ”Please, let me explain,” he begged, his eyes brimming with regret.
But you pulled away, the sting of deceit too raw and painful to bear. ”Not you too,” you choked out, your voice breaking with emotion. ”How could you do this to me?”
There were no answers, no explanations that could erase the pain of their breach of trust. They both just watched as you started crying softly. Apparently everyone in your family knew too.
As tears welled in your eyes, Lando's pleading voice cut through the air. ”Y/N, please, just give me a chance to explain.” His hand reached out towards you, but you recoiled, his touch now feeling like a betrayal.
”Explain what?” you retorted, your voice laced with disbelief. ”That you cheated on me with my cousin?”
Lando's eyes widened in panic but instead your cousin's voice broke through the tension, filled with regret. ”Y/N, I'm so sorry. It was a mistake, it shouldn't have happened.”
Anger surged within you at her words. ”Sleeping with my fucking boyfriend was a mistake?” you shot back, incredulous at the audacity of her apology.
Lando stepped forward, his expression a mix of remorse and longing. ”I never meant to cause you any pain, Y/N. Please believe me,” he pleaded, his voice trembling with emotion.
Your trust had shattered along with your heart. 
His voice quivered as he spoke again, desperation lacing his words. ”I love you, Y/N. I made a stupid mistake, but it doesn't change how I feel about you.”
But love now felt like a distant memory, tarnished by their adultery.
”If this is love, I want no part of it,” you declared, your voice filled with anguish. Knowing deep down that you meant it.
Your cousin reached out to you, her eyes brimming with tears. ”Y/N, please, you have to understand...” But understanding felt beyond your reach, lost in a sea of pain and betrayal.
”Understand what?” you cried out, your voice breaking with emotion. ”That my own sister betrayed me with my… my boyfriend?”
Lando's plea echoed in the air, his voice thick with desperation. ”I'll do anything to make it up to you, Y/N. Just give me a chance.”
But the chance had already been squandered, lost in the wreckage of their infidelity.
”You had your chance, Lando, and you blew it.” You wish you could be angry and put them to their places but your chest was hurting so much that it was almost dizzy.
You felt sick and on the verge of passing out.
”I'll do anything to make things right, Y/N. Just tell me what to do.” But there was nothing they could do to undo the damage that had been done, no words or actions that could mend the broken pieces of your heart.
They have insulted you in front of your whole family.
”There's nothing you can do to fix this, Lando. You've ruined everything,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you turned away, the weight of their betrayal too heavy to bear.
As you walked away, their voices faded into the background, drowned out by the deafening roar of your own heartbreak. And as you stumbled out into the night, the stars above offering no solace, you vowed never to let anyone break you again.
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( writing masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.
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serpentandlily · 3 months
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We Should Stick Together - Azriel x Reader
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We Should Stick Together - Azriel x Reader
Summary: Azriel deals with the aftermath of losing his mate. (Part I)
Warnings: angst, death, self-harm
A/n: An epilogue of sorts to Birds of a Feather - Read HERE. Thanks for all your love!! 
• ───────────────── •
I want you to stay
'Til I'm in the grave
'Til I rot away, dead and buried
'Til I'm in the casket you carry
• ───────────────── •
It was dead silent in the Temple. Many fae had come today to pay their respect and to honor the female that died during the war with Koschei—the female that had bravely lured the Death God to his demise and had ultimately met her own in the end.
Azriel had watched the service from the shadows, consumed by his shame and grief. Grief over losing his mate, his best friend, and the chance at a long life with her. Shame from not being able to protect her, from not realizing the mating bond between the two of them until it was far too late and for those last few words he had spoken to her that had only pushed her further into a suicide mission. 
You just want me to continue being miserable. Because that’s always been why the two of us got along so well. Both lonely and so unhappy and now that I’m finally not, you want to drag me back down. Maybe one day someone will love you the way me and Elain love each other. But just because no one does right now, does not mean I have to give up my happiness to keep being miserable with you.
The words haunted him. 
She haunted him. 
Azriel had always been good at ruining his own life. But saying those words was single handedly the worst mistake he had ever made. He hadn't meant them. Of course he hadn't meant them. He loved Y/n. He had since the day he had met her. She was his closest friend—someone he had felt comfortable with. But he had been so blind...blinded by Mor and her vivacious personality...blinded by Elain and the sunshine she had brought to the Night Court. 
All along his mate had been right by his side. The one person he had been searching for all his years of living had been right in front of him and he hadn't even noticed. 
Azriel walked down the long aisle towards the casket that was displayed on the dais. His footsteps echoed in the now silent chamber—not even his own heart beat could be heard. No, his heart had stopped beating the second hers had. 
He fiddled with the flower in his hand, swallowing the tears and sadness that threatened to consume him. He owed her this. He wasn't going to run and hide himself in the shadows as he'd been doing the past week. He needed to be here today. 
Azriel finally stopped in front of the casket and choked on his own bile as the sweet, comforting scent of his mate reached his nose. This felt all too much like a nightmare—one he was stuck in with no way out. Cursed to repeat this day from beginning to end for the rest of his existence. 
She would never stop haunting him.
And he didn't want her to. 
If the ghost of her was the only thing left of his mate in this world, he would cling to it for the rest of his days. 
Azriel placed the spirit lily on top of the casket, the glowing silver petals matched the marble stone. He had searched day and night to find this flower. It was your spirit lily. The one that had bloomed when you died. 
"I'm so sorry," he cried, the tears finally falling. "I'm so sorry." 
He fell to his knees before the casket, one scarred hand sliding along the cold marble as he continued to repeat those words over and over and over again. 
"I am so sorry."
• ───────────────── •
If you go, I'm going too, 
'Cause it was always you, alright
And if I'm turning blue, please don't save me
Nothing left to lose without my baby
• ───────────────── •
Azriel's ears were ringing as he sat at the kitchen table in the cottage that Elain and he had purchased a few weeks before their wedding. It was the first time he had stepped inside since the war with Koschei. It was the first time he'd even been in the Night Court since the loss of his mate and best friend. 
"I understand that you need time to process this, Azriel, I really do," Elain pleaded with him. "But we made vows to each other the day we married. Vows that were supposed to transcend any mating bond." 
Azriel's shadows wailed from the corners of the room. They had started searching for Y/n the day she died and hadn't stopped their cries of panic since then.
It had been a month already.
A whole, entire month had passed by without you. 
And here he was—dark circles lining his eyes, stubble on his hollowed jaw and a song he'd never hear again playing on repeat in his mind. His mating song. His soul's song. His soul that was desperately crying out for its other half. 
"I can't do this, Elain," he spoke, voice hoarse from disuse. "I'm sorry." 
"That's it? That's all you have to say?" Elain questioned, crossing her arms and leaning on the kitchen counter. "Azriel, I rejected my own mate for you. I...I thought we were in this together. We talked about the day you might find your own and we agreed that you'd reject it too." 
"I know," Azriel whispered, his forlorn eyes stuck on the cracks on the floor. "But I didn't know what I was giving up the day we made those vows, Elain. I'm sorry. I truly am. But this...this is different. Lucien was a stranger to you. I thought if I ever met my mate, she'd be a stranger to me as well. But Y/n was my best friend. I've loved her for centuries."
"All that time together and yet, you still never went after her," Elain argued. 
Those words landed a heavy blow in his gut. Elain was right. He had known his mate for years and years and never once did he think of her as anything more than a friend. But that wasn't because of her. No, he had done that to himself. 
He had found a companion with Y/n. She saw him in ways no one else did. He'd be lying if he said that hadn't scared him. For someone to see through him—through all the good and to the rotting, decaying bad that existed in him. He was a monster hiding in plain sight and she had seen that. She had seen all of that and loved him anyway. 
And he had ran from it—from her. It was his own self-hatred that caused him to never see Y/n that way. She reminded him of everything that he was because she was all the same. She was the missing piece to his broken soul. But she had been beautiful in her darkness, hauntingly exquisite in her shadows. And he had been a brutish beast who thought that someone could vanquish the darkness that surrounded him.
What he hadn't realized was that he was never looking for a light to cast the shadows away. Not really. He had been fighting a storm whose tides had only been trying to bring him home to her. To his mate. His soul and heart and mind.  
And now she was gone and she had taken all of his love with her. 
Azriel stood from his seat, barely present in this reality. "I'm sorry, Elain. No words will change my mind nor my heart. I belonged to Y/n. It is only my fault that I never saw that." 
And it was his fault. 
All of it was his fault.  
• ───────────────── •
And I don't know what I'm crying for
I don't think I could love you more
It might not be long, but baby, I
I'll love you 'til the day that I die
• ───────────────── •
"Papa, who is that?"
Nyx's innocent voice caught Rhysand's attention. He followed Nyx's gaze to the corner of the room where Azriel stood, wreathed in his shadows. It had been years since any of them had laid eyes on the elusive shadowsinger. Years since he had been so consumed with his grief that he had disappeared from this court, from Prythian entirely. 
But there was one day he always returned.
The anniversary of Y/n's death. 
Cassian had ambushed him before he made it to her gravesite and all but dragged him to this family dinner. It broke Rhysand's heart that his son didn't recognize one of his uncles.
"That's Azriel," Rhysand answered, clearing his throat. "He's one of your uncles. He used to be around a lot when you were just a baby." 
"Oh," Nyx said, tilting his head as he looked at the shadowsinger. "He seems...sad. Why is he so sad, Papa?" 
Rhysand's heart snapped in his chest. The loss of Y/n had been felt by all of them, of course. But for Azriel...it had destroyed him. None of them had known about the mating bond between the two of them. They had been caught off guard just as much as Azriel had been. Rhys had felt an inkling that she might've been in love with him due to her slowly distancing herself once he and Elain had gone public with their relationship.
He had only thought she needed space and time. He hadn't realized that she had been slowly wilting away. And no one had done a single thing to help her. They had all failed her. 
Sometimes he felt a fire-burning rage towards his brother. He had tried to steer him away from Elain that Solstice night but Azriel hadn't listened to him. Perhaps if he had, Y/n might still be here. Perhaps the mating bond would've finally snapped in place for Azriel. But instead he had stubbornly doubled-down on his feelings for Elain. 
"He lost someone he loved," Rhys choked out. "We all did. Do you remember the stories about Y/n?" 
Nyx clapped his tiny hands together with a smile. Gwyn had made sure that Y/n's name had been honored and recorded in the new books about the war with Koschei. A story that was being passed down through the years. A story Nyx had read time and time again because it was his favorite. 
"She was the warrior who faced a Death God all on her own!" Nyx exclaimed. "She led him straight to the trap where he was ambushed!"
Rhysand smiled, patting his son on the head. It had been too hard to speak her name after her death but slowly, they had all started talking about her more and more. Perhaps it was finally time to tell his son the whole story. Rhys glanced at Azriel again, who was a shell of his former self. Perhaps not the whole story.
"Well, before all of that," Rhys started, "Y/n was our friend..."
• ───────────────── •
Birds of a feather, we should stick together, I know
I said I'd never think I wasn't better alone
Can't change the weather, might not be forever
But if it's forever, it's even better
• ───────────────── •
Azriel was kneeling on the grass, his hands grasping the beautiful stone marker of your gravesite as his eyes combed over the engraving: 
Here lies Y/n
Beloved Daughter, Sister and Friend
The stars will shine brighter with you among them 
Rest in Peace
"I have tried to go on for your sake," Azriel murmured. "Because I know that is what you would've wanted. But I can't...I can't do this without you. I relive every day I've shared with you and it is still not enough to make me miss you any less. I am sorry that it took your death to make me realize just how much you meant to me." 
Azriel had gone through it all in his head time and time again. Always reliving moments where he could've seen what was right in front of him all along yet didn't. Your last words to him constantly looped in his mind. 
"I'll find...you...again. Maybe...maybe I'll be...good enough...then."
Those words could not be more untrue. It was always him who had never been good enough for you. Not you. Never you. You had always been as beautiful as the moon reflected on the sea, alluring and mysterious but peaceful. So peaceful. Despite the darkness the two of you shared, you'd always been so soft and kind to those around you...those who had never felt the kind of pain you'd gone through. 
You lured people in because of your grace. You gave people a safe place to exist in. Your shadows had felt like a warm blanket on a chilly night. Your smile had rivaled the moonlight. 
You had always been far more special than you knew. 
Your mistake had been thinking you could out love his hatred for himself. 
But the mating bond had opened his eyes. Although he had only gotten a few seconds with his mate, its song had told him everything he needed to know. He no longer hated his shadows or the anger he felt inside. He no longer hated himself. How could he? How could he hate himself when part of him was you? 
And he could never hate you. 
Gods, he could never be without you. Your souls were intertwined. 
But living in this world without you was something he could not bear. He was consumed by your memory. He looked for you in everything. In the sea, in the breeze, in the faces of random people, down alleyways and behind every door. But you were not here. You were not here and so he decided he could not be here, either. 
"You said you'd find me again," Azriel whispered. "You said you'd find me again but that is not enough. I cannot sit here and wait for you. I will crawl through Hell and everything that is ready for me when my life ends to find you. This life means nothing to me without you in it. You were my heart, Y/n. I love you. I've always loved you. And I am ready to prove that in our next life."
Azriel slid Truth-teller from its sheath and turned it over in his hand, pointing the blade directly as his own heart. He closed his eyes, tuned out all noise except that of the leaves gently rustling in the breeze. 
"I love you, Y/n," he murmured, gripping the blade tighter. "And I can't wait to see you again." 
His dagger pierced through skin and bone until it reached his heart. 
Until all life was spilled from inside of him. 
Until his final breath carried with the wind. 
Until he could finally see his love again.
• ───────────────── •
I knew you in another life
You had that same look in your eyes
I love you, don't act so surprised
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tojisun · 4 months
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simon only ever falling into an actual deep sleep when he’s using your lap as pillow hhhhhhhh :((
he is so exhausted all the time but he melts the moment he crawls into your arms. he feels like the only time he ever feels the safest is in your hold, by your side, warm in your embrace.
thinking about ​hockey player simon coming to you in comfort after every loss. he just... crumbles in your presence. there is no need for any pretence or a mask—there is no need to tough it out or fake amiability the way he has to during interviews—and lets himself be consumed by his grief because you let him.
you let him revisit every missed shots, every missed saves, your fingers gentle as you brush at his hair in comfort. he doesn’t cry, not really, but he does nuzzle his face on your belly because his grief is so huge, the only way he knows how to comfort himself is to find it in you.
and when it is all over, when the silence finally ripples, you pull him closer and say, “you did so good, baby.” because it is the truth.
their season may have ended but simon continues to be the star. the living legend. but most of all, your hardworking boy.
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literallyjusttoa · 5 days
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I have fully reworked and redesigned my Apollo timeline!! These designs are meant to depict Apollo from 2591 B.C.E all the way to 392 C.E., so a good 2,983 years of life lol. A lot of things have changed from my first and second versions of this timeline (which you can see here and here if you're interested) so I'm just gonna rewrite the whole things here for y'all to read and enjoy! (Also disclaimer as always I am not a mythology expert, and I am taking some liberties with dates and time periods so sorry if anything seems off!)
Baby: 2591 B.C.E
Apollo is born. That's pretty much all that happens here.
Fighting Python/Exile: 2591-2582 B.C.E.
Right after being born, Apollo goes off to fight Python. After this, he is exiled from Olympus for nine years due to his crime of committing murder. During those nine years, he spends most of his time as either a shepherd or a traveling musician, and observes mortals and their ways of life a lot.
Pre-First Punishment: 2582-2300 B.C.E.
After his exile, Apollo is allowed to ascend to Olympus. He takes on a form that is extremely similar to the mortals he's been living amongst for the past nine years. As the youngest member of the Olympian Council, Apollo is slightly naive, but desperate to prove himself to the rest of his family. Myths that occur during this time: 1. Apollo finds and mentors Chiron 2. Artemis and Apollo successfully convince their father to release Prometheus from his punishment. 3. Periphas, a king of Attica and priest of Apollo, was so beloved by his people that they honored him above Zeus. This angered Zeus, and he sword he would strike Periphas down and burn his home to the ground. However, Apollo begged Zeus to spare Periphas' life, and Zeus acquiesced. Instead, Zeus turned Periphas into an eagle, the same eagle that now rests on the top of his sacred sceptre.
Post-First Punishment (Troy): 2300-1250 B.C.E.
Back from his time as a mortal, Apollo is now the patron god of the city of Troy. He is extremely attached to his people, and has taken on a lot of their fashions and customs. He is a bit more reserved on Olympus because of the punishment, but he is still young and sure of himself, and is often one of the most active gods on the council. Myths that occur during this time: 1. Hermes is born. 2. The music duel with Marsyas occurs, and he is flayn. 3. Lots of cities are founded on the west coast of Ionia (Modern day Türkiye), many with myths surrounding Apollo. The city of Miletus was founded and named after a son of Apollo. Klazomenai claimed Apollo as their principal god. The city of Colophon becomes the seat of the Oracle of Apollo Clarius, and one of his sons, named Mopsus, lives there. Erythraea is also connected to Apollo's oracle, as it is the birthplace of Herophile. Once you add Troy to the mix, it seems as if Apollo just did a tour of Ionia and set up a bunch of towns along the way, which I think is pretty cool. 4. The seven against Thebes make their march to restore Polynices, Oedipus' son, to the throne. One of the seven, Amphiaraus, was a seer and favored by Apollo (and sometimes his son!). Amphiaraus was fated to die in battle, but Apollo found multiple ways to stretch out his final moments. He redirected attacks so that Amphiaraus was not harmed, and when the man's charioteer was killed, Apollo took the reins himself. When Amphiaraus finally passed on, Apollo wept over his corpse and let him be consumed by the earth, creating an Oracle at that spot.
Asclepius: 1250-1210 B.C.E.
Asclepius is born and Apollo keeps the same look throughout his entire life! Apollo doesn't have much to do with it, but the Argonauts set sail during this time.
Stealing the bolt/Killing the Cyclops: 1210 B.C.E.
This design only lasts a couple of weeks. In his grief, Apollo loses himself.
Second Punishment 1210 B.C.E
Apollo is given to Admetus as a servant for several months. The punishment doesn't last long, but Apollo's time with Admetus is essential in his journey to heal from Asclepius' death.
Trojan War: 1194-1184 B.C.E.
The Trojan War breaks out less than 20 years after Asclepius' death, bringing ruins and carnage with it. Apollo fulfills his duty as the patron god of the city, and viciously protects Troy from the attacks of other Olympians.
Post-Trojan: 1184-940 B.C.E.
The war was lost, and Troy was sacked. In the time following this, Apollo distances himself from mortals, desperate to escape the pain and grief of the last 70 years. This period of his life ends with the myth of Daphne. Myths that occur during this time: 1. Dionysus is born 2. Apollo saves Hemithea and her sister Parthenos and makes them immortal. 3. Apollo's oldest known temple is built in Thebes.
Daphne and Hyacinthus 940-776 B.C.E.
After the death of Daphne, Apollo is devastated. While he had been avoiding the mortal realm before, now he became increasingly uncomfortable on Olympus. He stayed in the mortal realm often, building up his reputation and setting up his popularity in Ancient Greece proper, which was just breaking out of the Dark Ages. Near the end of this period, he loves and loses Hyacinthus. Myths that occur during this time: 1. The cult of Apollo from Crete brings his worship to Delphi officially, and his temple is built at the site. 2. Apollo's music duel with Pan occurs.
“Main” Apollo 776-500 B.C.E.
Starting with the first Olympic games, This period is defined by glory and worship. Apollo's popularity in Greece increases exponentially, and this is only added to once he takes the reins of the sun chariot. He meddles in mortal affairs often during this time, growing into the persona we see of him today. Myths that occur during this time: 1. Niobe's kids are killed 2. Apollo falls in love with Cyrene, and gives her a city. 3. Tarquin purchases the Sibylline books. Sometime before this, Apollo curses the Sibyl of Cumae. 4. The Pythagorean cult is established, a group that religiously followed the teachings of Pythagoras. Alongside this, they mainly worshiped Apollo at Delphi. They used math to break down music, and believed "the universe as a whole was composed of harmony and numbers". 5. Phorbas, who is either a savage king of Elis or a giant, preys on travelers on the pilgrimage to Delphi. To put a stop to this, Apollo challenges the man to a boxing match, and kills him during the fight. Another Phorbas, this one hailing from Rhodes, is often confounded with this one. Apollo dated the second Phorbas, so I bet this was very confusing for a lot of poor Greeks. 6. The city of Megara fought for independence from Corinth, and claimed Apollo as their patron god.
"Classical" Apollo 500-300 B.C.E.
As Ancient Greece moves into it's classical age, and the height of it's glory, Apollo's worship continues to grow. In the 400's, Pericles and the architects of the Acropolis in Athens used the money held by the Delian league (An allied group of islands in the Cyclades, lead by Delos) to create their temple to Athena, which held the Athena Parthenos. This, alongside many other ways in which Athens attempted to take control of the rest of Greece, caused tension in both the mortal world and Olympus. Apollo begins to see cracks in the foundations of Greece, but can not do much about it at the time. Myths that occur during this time: 1. The Peloponnesian war breaks out. It lasts 27 years, with Sparta claiming victory over Athens in the end. Olympus continues to degrade as Athena and Ares spar. 2. Shortly after this, the Theban War starts. Sparta had won the Peloponnesian war and taken Athens place as the head of Ancient Greece, but many city-states took issue with this. Both Corinth and Thebes waged war against Sparta, with Thebes being victorious in this struggle. Thebes was Dionysus' city, and Corinth, Poseidon's. The Olympian council continues to splinter. 3. Apollo's first temple in Rome is built. The Temple of Apollo Medicus was constructed outside of the religious boundary in Rome, as Apollo was still seen as a foreign deity at this time, and so his worship was not permitted in the city proper.
Late Greece (300-146 B.C.E)
Greece is falling apart at the seams, with civil wars breaking out all over the region. Rome is growing stronger to the west, and eventually takes over Greece completely at the end of this period. Apollo attempts to ignore the signs of failure, keeping up a relaxed, even as the war begins to devour Greece entirely. Myths that occur during this time: 1. Dionysus journeys to India 2. Trophonius and Agamethus are killed.
Fall of Greece: 146-32 B.C.E.
Olympus falls, and will not come back together for a while yet. With each deity lost and unfocused, they all have to find their own way back to their former glory. Apollo is one of the last to return to the council, spending centuries wandering the ruins of Greece, burying his people and mourning the culture that had been lost. It is not until Augustus brings his worship to Rome that Apollo returns to Mount Olympus.
Rome 32 B.C.E.- 140 C.E.
Apollo is now one of the chief gods in Rome. Even though he is at the same level of power and popularity that he had during the height of Greece, it doesn't feel the same. Apollo drifts, going through the motions with very little passion behind it. It takes some time for him to warm up to his new civilization, which leads to:
Late Rome 140 C.E.- 392 C.E.
As Rome continues to grow and prosper, Apollo begins to grow fond of it's people. He interacts with them far more, and begins to once again meddle in their affairs, especially when it comes to the various emperors that ruled the nation. This trend continues until the eventual end of pagan worship in Rome. Myths that occur during this time: 1. Apollo meets, falls in love with, and eventually kills Commodus. 2. The Bacchanalia, which was a private cult festival of the Dionysian cult of Liber that was full of drinking and mingling of all social classes, becomes popular. This festival is obviously associated with Bacchus first and foremost, but there was a common rumour amongst members of the cult that you could meet Apollo at these celebrations.
And that's the whole thing! Hope you all enjoyed, this took a lot of time and research lol.
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dixons-sunshine · 6 months
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Pregnant Pause | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
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Summary: Your life was the epitome of a mess. You had just witnessed two of your friends get brutally murdered, your community was forced to serve an antagonistic group called the Saviours and your partner was taken by the same group, undoubtedly being tortured to try and force him into submission. It wasn't the best moment of your life, and it definitely wasn't the best time to start suspecting that you were pregnant.
Genre: Angst to a little bit of fluff.
Era: Alexandria, Saviour arc.
Warnings: Swearing, blood, mentions of death, typical TWD warnings
Word count: 6.9k
A/n: I had so much fun writing this! To the person who requested this (they asked to remain anonymous), thank you so much. I really hope you like this and I really enjoyed swapping ideas with you for this fic.
As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests, as well as Scud Frohmeyer requests.
Tears were streaming down your face with no sign of stopping anytime in the near future. In front of you, you could see the disfigured bodies of two members of your group, two of your friends. Glenn Rhee and Abraham Ford, brutally beat to death with a wired baseball bat. It was a fate that nobody deserved, especially not somebody as kind and pure as Glenn, or somebody as caring and courageous as Abraham. But they were gone, and with them, the remaining group's goodwill and hope.
Their deaths weren't the only things that weighed on your shoulders. Negan, the leader of the so-called 'Saviours', had taken Daryl, your partner and love of your life, hostage. You had pleaded to them to let him go, but your pleas had fallen on deaf ears, and with one last tearful look at your archer, the doors to the truck had closed and taken off, taking a huge chunk of your heart with the retreating vehicle.
You could vaguely hear the sound of voices conversing and the shuffle of footsteps around you, but your attention remained fixated on the dirt beneath you. Your mind was racing at the speed of light at that moment, and yet simultaneously, you struggled to think of anything at all. It seemed that with your partner's involuntary departure, your ability to function evaporated into thin air. You had no idea what to do.
You barely registered when Rick shook your shoulder, desperately trying to snap you out of your daze. “Y/N, look at me.”
You hesitantly looked up to meet the striking blue eyes of Rick Grimes, his eyes bloodshot from the tears he had shed earlier. He was tired, that much you could tell, and he seemed to be consumed by grief, the prior events to that moment taking an obvious toll on everyone, including your fearless leader.
“We have to go. It's not safe here,” he whispered, gently urging you to stand. He was patient and caring, knowing full well that the events that had just transpired bore down into your soul. This would traumatize each and every one of the people present, of that much he was sure.
You remained silent, refusing to say anything until you'd had time to fully process everything. The remaining people in your group wordlessly split, Maggie and Sasha heading to the Hilltop and the rest of you heading towards the Alexandria safe zone. Aaron dutifully walked beside you, glancing over at you in concern every few seconds. He opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off before he could utter anything.
“Please, don't,” you whispered weakly, furiously wiping at the tears in your eyes.
Aaron frowned. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly, careful not to alert the others who were walking in front of you.
You shook your head and let out a bitter laugh. “No,” you admitted, pursing your lips. “I'm pretty sure none of us are.”
Aaron's frown deepened, but he ultimately left it at that. The rest of the trek back to Alexandria was spent in a deathly silence, the only audible sounds being footsteps and animals scurrying around in the forest. When you all finally reached the safe zone, dread filled in your heart, because with the Saviours now fit to come knocking at the gates whenever they pleased, the safe zone would never truly be safe ever again.
Four days had passed. Four days since Glenn and Abraham had been brutally murdered in front of you. Four days since your partner had been taken hostage by the hostile group who claimed to be saviours. Four days since your world turned upside down.
The fellow survivors in the community had not taken well to the news of the Saviours' deal with Alexandria, but you had expected that much. They weren't there, they didn't know what could happen if you rubbed the Saviours the wrong way, but you did, and they would figure it out soon enough.
You sighed as you layed on the bed in the basement you shared with Daryl, staring up at the ceiling with a frown on your features. For four days you had tried to think of a solution to the problem at hand, but you had shot point-blank each time. And anytime you had even attempted to talk to Rick about retaliating, about fighting back, he had shut you down in an instant. You couldn't blame him, however. You had witnessed the brutality that Negan possessed and didn't wish to anger him again. You just wanted to find a way to get Daryl out of his clutches and back home, safe. You needed him there with you, especially if your suspicions about something proved to be correct.
For the last two weeks, you'd been way more tired than usual. Your body had grown accustomed to short hours of sleep or no sleep at all, but now it seemed as if you couldn't function even if you'd slept ten hours. You'd been getting nauseous quite frequently and although you had no way of keeping track between your periods, you were pretty sure it was late.
You weren't stupid. You knew what those implications meant and what they were leaning towards, but the possibility of it being true scared you. You and Daryl were as careful as you could be, but there were times when you weren't careful, when you were reckless, so the possibility of motherhood could be an impending thing.
You and Daryl hadn't ever really discussed having kids before. The topic came up once or twice, but that was during the earlier stages of your relationship back at the prison when neither of you were ready for that kind of commitment just yet. And with the whirlwind of chaos that ensued, from the Governor's wrath in Woodbury, to the Governor's annihilation of the prison, to Terminus and then to the fall of Alexandria when the walkers infiltrated, the topic never got the chance to come up again.
And now the possibility of you being pregnant was high, and there was a chance that you'd have to raise the baby without its father.
You quickly shook your head to rid the thoughts from your mind. Groaning in frustration, you got up from the bed and headed up the stairs towards the kitchen. There you found Rosita who was seated at the dining table, her features contorted into a frown while she was fiddling with a gun in her lap. She glanced up at you when she heard your footsteps and offered a silent nod of acknowledgement.
You gave her a nod back and headed towards the kitchen. You retrieved a glass from one of the cabinets and headed over to the sink, filling the glass with water. You leaned back against the kitchen island and slowly sipped at the water, your eyes trailed on one of little Judith's drawings that were stuck to the fridge. It was a picture of stick figures meant to represent everyone in the group, and your heart sank when your eyes trailed over the figure meant to represent the archer.
“What're you looking at?” Rosita asked, grabbing your attention.
“Just this picture that Judith drew of all of us,” you responded, half-heartedly motioning at the drawing stuck to the fridge.
Rosita walked over to you and positioned herself on your right, leaning back against the kitchen island as well. She smiled weakly at the drawing.
“Back when we were happy.”
“Yeah,” you agreed, averting your eyes from the drawing to the woman next to you. “Now everything's just gone to shit.”
“All thanks to that Negan puto,” she spat, her tone holding resentment and anger. Her anger was justified—she had witnessed Abraham getting beaten to death, and afterwards Negan had taunted her about it. He found what he did justified. You knew that Rosita wanted him dead, and you did too.
“Yeah,” you replied with a heavy sigh, placing the empty glass down on the countertop. The two of you stood side by side in silence for a few moments, before Rosita broke the silence again.
“What's up? It seems like something has you down.”
“Yeah, Daryl is being held hostage only god knows where and we have three days to find shit for those assholes or one of us dies,” you stated matter-of-factly, crossing your arms over your chest.
Rosita sighed. “I know, but that wasn't what I meant. It's something else, I can tell.”
You fixated your gaze on the ground, suddenly finding the tiles more interesting than anything else. “No, I mean... I don't know. It might be nothing, but...” You trailed off awkwardly.
Sensing your awkwardness, Rosita quickly tried to reassure you. "It's okay, you don't have to talk about it."
You shot her a grateful look and she gave you a small smile. You brought your hand up and lightly patted her on her shoulder before pushing away from the counter.
“Where are you going?” Rosita inquired, raising her eyebrows in question as she watched your retreating figure.
“I need some air.”
Without waiting for a reply from the woman, you closed the door behind you and leaned back against it momentarily, before pushing away and setting off towards the infirmary.
After a short walk, you arrived at the infirmary. After opening the door and seeing that nobody was inside, you breathed a sigh of relief. You wanted to get this done without anybody knowing. You didn't want people kicking up a fuss when there were bigger problems at hand.
Moving towards the cabinet you knew held the object you were looking for, you could feel your heart racing. When you retrieved the small box with the test that could literally change your life, you felt overwhelmed. You never thought that a small box would intimidate you, but that particular box did.
Wanting to be extra sure of the results, you grabbed another test from the cabinet. Slipping both tests out of the boxes and into your waistband and letting your shirt fall over them to cover them from prying eyes, you quietly slipped from the infirmary before anyone could notice that you were there. You walked with a haste in your step back towards the house, but the sight that awaited you at the gates quickly drew your attention. You quickly made your way over, where you saw none other than Negan beyond the gates, taking out an approaching walker.
You walked up next to Rosita, who looked over at you, anger dancing in her eyes. You were sure that your eyes mirrored the same emotion.
“Easy, peasy, lemon squeezy!” Negan laughed. His eyes strayed to his right, and you could see Rick following his gaze. From your point of view, you could see surprise spread across his face.
“Alright, everybody. Let's get started. Big day,” Negan started, talking to people who were out of your line of sight. “Hey, Rick. You see that? What I just did? That is some service! I mean, we almost get turned away at the gate. Who is that guy, anyway? Do I get mad? Do I throw a fit? Do I bash some ginger's dome in? Nope! I just take care of one of these dead pricks that could've killed one of y'all. Service.”
Your gaze strayed downwards when Negan locked eyes with you. He chuckled before walking through the gates, handing Rick his baseball bat. “Hold this.”
As Negan walked in, the rest of the people he brought with him followed after him. However, you looked up when Rosita let out an almost inaudible gasp. You followed her line of sight and locked eyes with Daryl, and your heart both soared with relief and filled with dread. You were relieved that Negan hadn't killed him, but you could see that he wasn't being treated fairly, either. He was dirty and his face was cut and bruised, and he wasn't wearing any shoes with his "uniform".
You frowned, your eyes not straying from Daryl. Your partner kept his eyes locked on you until Negan spoke up again.
“Hot digidy dog!” Negan exclaimed, his eyes sweeping over the community. “This place is magnificent. An embarrassment of riches, as they say. Yes, sir, I do believe you are gonna have plenty to offer up.”
You looked away from Negan and took a step towards Daryl, hoping to give him a short hug. “Daryl—”
“No. Nope. He's the help. You don't look at him, you don't talk to him, and I don't make Rick chop anything off of him,” Negan cut you off, his eyes shifting to Rick.
When Rick averted his gaze, Negan turned to you, his eyes holding a certain malevolence as he gazed down at you. “Do I make myself clear, darling?”
“Yeah, you've made yourself transparent. I can see right through you,” you spat bitterly, refusing to meet his mocking gaze.
Negan chuckled wickedly. “Careful. We don't want anything to happen to your little lover over there.”
You slowly looked up at the man, your jaw clenched as you glared at him. A few beats of silence passed until you broke the stare first, angrily walking away from him, back towards the house. Tears of frustration welled up in your eyes, but you willed them away, refusing to let them fall. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction of your tears, no matter if he saw it or not.
When you reached the house, you practically flung the door open, storming into the house. Carl, who had been sitting at the dining room table, looked up at your sudden appearance and gave you a concerned look.
You mustered up what you hoped was a reassuring smile and sat down on the chair opposite him. He gave you a questioning look, silently asking what was wrong.
“Negan's here,” you plainly stated, not missing the clenching of his jaw in anger.
“He said a week. He's early,” Carl stated angrily, curling his hands into fists.
“Yeah, but he's here anyway. And he brought Daryl.”
Carl perked up at the mention of the archer's name. “He's here?” When you nodded, he continued. “Is he gonna stay?”
“I doubt it. Negan said that Daryl's here as the help, so I'm pretty sure that Negan's taking him back as soon as he's done here.”
Carl's mood visibly deflated. He sighed and shook his head. “We can't live like this. We should just kill Negan.”
You shook your head. “Believe me, I want Negan dead, too, but even if we kill him, one of his other goons will step up and take his place. We have to kill all of them, not just Negan.”
“How? There's too many of them.”
“I don't know.”
Carl shook his head before standing up, pushing the chair back. “I'm gonna go check on Judith, make sure she's alright.”
At the mention of the small child's name, you suddenly remembered about the two tests that were stuck in your waistband. You got up, too, and nodded at the teenager. “Okay. I have to take care of something real quick.”
With a parting nod, you headed up the stairs and into the bathroom. Quietly locking the door behind you, you inhaled deeply, trying to ease the anxiety that had started to build. You took the two tests from your waistband and held it in front of you, knowing that the results that would show in a few minutes were going to change your life.
Shaking your head and inhaling deeply, you went over to the toilet, two tests in hand. You quickly did your business and placed the two tests on the countertop. You paced around in the bathroom, trying to work up the nerve to see what results awaited you. However, just as you were about to look at the results, a loud banging on the door startled you.
“Hey, hurry up in there! We don't have all day to wait on you!” A voice you didn't recognise bellowed from beyond the door, and you could only assume that it was one of Negan's men. Sighing, you grabbed the tests without so much as peeking at them and slipped them back into the waistband of your jeans. You walked over to the door and opened it, coming face to face with a Saviour.
“What were you doing in there that took you so long, huh, pretty lady?” The man asked, eyeing you up and down with a primal intrigue. You shivered in disgust, shooting him a glare.
Without a word at the man, you walked off, needing to clear your head. The pregnancy tests in your waistband pressed against your skin and reminded you that you had to look at them, but you decided that would have to wait. You weren't about to look at them around prying eyes.
Suddenly, a gunshot rang through the house. Startled, you sprinted towards where you heard the sound and saw Carl holding two Saviours at gunpoint, the Saviours in question holding crates with all of your medication.
“Put some back,” Carl started, pointing the gun at one of the men. “Or the next one goes in you.”
“Carl, what's going on?” You questioned, moving to stand next to the teenager.
“They said that they were only taking half, but now they're taking everything,” Carl explained, keeping his gun trained on the man in front of him.
The man simply laughed, wickedly smiling at the boy. “Kid, what do you think happens next?”
“You die,” Carl stated plainly, glaring at the man.
You looked over at the sound of approaching footsteps and saw Rick, his eyes meeting yours questioningly. You simply shrugged nonchalantly and put a gentle hand on Carl's shoulder. He looked over at you and you gave him a small, tight-lipped smile.
“Don't do anything stupid,” you advised, before leaving Rick to calm his son down. You passed by Negan, who shot you a teasing smile, but you ignored him, moving out onto the porch.
You leaned over the railing, observing the people quietly. You could vaguely hear the voices from inside, but you paid it no mind. After a couple of minutes of just standing there, you saw Aaron walking alone, a frown on his face. You walked down the porch stairs and hurried to catch up to him.
“Aaron, hey!” you called, stopping the man in his tracks. He turned around and saw you approaching, and he offered you a weak smile.
“Hey.”
“Let me guess, the Saviours are ransacking your house right now,” you stated matter-of-factly.
“They took our mattresses. Why the hell would they need that? And our coffee tables? What could they possibly need those for?” Aaron asked, exasperated. He ran his hand through his hair in frustration, his form slumped.
“I think they're just taking them because they can,” you started. “They're trying to prove that what they say is law. They're trying to prove that we have no say, that they can take whatever they want simply because.”
Aaron sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping. “I hate this.”
“Me too,” you agreed, nodding sagely. “But what can we possibly do about it now? We're outnumbered and outgunned. We can't take them on even if we wanted to.”
Aaron shook his head. Silently motioning for you to walk with him, the two of you set off, walking to nowhere in particular. “I'm glad to see that Daryl's okay.”
You slightly flinched at the mention of the archer's name and visions of his current state flooded your mind. He looked awful, not just from the filth on him but from the bruises as well. He was being tortured and you wanted to do nothing more than to kill Negan for making him suffer.
“Define "okay",” you sighed, walking up to Aaron's house with him.
“Alive,” he stated simply. The two of you sat down on the porch steps, keeping your gazes ahead on the Saviours who bustled around the community, taking whatever they pleased.
“Yeah, well, let's hope it stays that way,” you whispered, feeling tears well up in your eyes. You wiped them away in frustration.
Aaron placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, giving you a small smile. The two of you quietly sat side by side for a while, simply looking at the chaos of the afternoon. You'd catch glimpses of Daryl from time to time, and he'd shoot you nervous glances before returning to whatever task he was meant to do. Your heart shattered at the thought of what Negan was doing to the love of your life. You silently vowed to yourself that you would find a way to get Daryl away from them, one way or another.
“Aaron, Y/N, meeting in Gabriel's church in five,” Rick's voice called, snapping you from your thoughts. He appeared at the bottom of the steps, his tone holding a frantic urgency.
“Rick? What's wrong?” You asked, getting up from the steps, Aaron following your lead.
“The Saviours, they're taking all of our guns, but we're two handguns short. They're threatening to kill Olivia if we don't find them.”
“Who would have them?” Aaron asked, his eyebrows furrowed.
“I don't know. That's what we're trying to figure out. Like I said, meeting in the church.”
“Nuh uh. Not so fast.”
You clenched your jaw at the voice that resounded behind you. Turning around, you came face to face with Dwight, his mouth upturned in a mocking grin. He was nonchalantly leaning against the wall of the house.
“The missus over here is gonna take me back to whatever hole she and Daryl calls home and give me his shit,” he stated, pushing away from the wall and walking over to you.
You stepped back, glaring angrily at the man. “You already have his crossbow and his vest. What else could you possibly want?”
“His bike, but Rosita's already taking care of that,” Dwight said, crossing his arms over his chest. He turned back towards Rick and waved him off. “Go on, go find out where those guns are.”
Dwight moved forward and gripped your wrist tightly, wordlessly tugging you behind him. You exchanged a nervous glance with Aaron before turning your attention back to Dwight. You ripped your wrist from his grip and glared at him.
“Touch me again and I'll fucking chop your fingers off one by one.”
Dwight chuckled and walked ahead, expecting you to follow him. When he realised that you remained still, he turned to you with a warning glare. “Just so you know, I'm basically Daryl's primary caretaker at the moment. So your behaviour today can either persuade me to make his stay with us better or so much worse. Your choice.”
You hesitated for a moment, before sighing and walking ahead. Dwight's footsteps could be heard from behind you as you silently lead him back to the house, your jaw clenched in anger as you stared ahead.
After a short walk, you lead Dwight up the porch stairs and into the house. You opened the door and stepped inside, the man following closely behind you.
“This is your home?” Dwight questioned, slowly closing the door behind him as he looked about the house in slight awe.
“Mine, Daryl's, Rick's, Michonne's. We all live here,” you stated in a bored tone, walking forward until you reached the door that lead down to the basement. “Our room's down there.”
“You live in the basement?” Dwight asked dubiously, staring down the stairs in question.
“Daryl and I do. We wanted our own space away from everyone where we wouldn't be bothered, hence why we chose the basement.
“Well, then,” Dwight started, lowering his upper body down in a mocking bow. “Lead the way, m'lady.”
You rolled your eyes at him and descended down the stairs. You opened the second door at the bottom of the stairs and pushed inside, the warm air of your shared space with the archer suddenly feeling overwhelming. You disregarded the feeling, focusing instead on the man that followed you down.
You motioned over to the dresser that held most of Daryl's things. “There. You'll find it all there.”
Dwight raised his eyebrows. “All of it? In that one measly dresser?” When you nodded, he continued. “That can't possibly be it.”
“Daryl doesn't own a lot of things that hold sentimental value to him,” you shrugged, sitting down on the bed as you watched the Saviour rummage through the dresser, carelessly tossing pieces of clothing over his shoulder. “Jesus, can you stop? He doesn't have anything else you could want.”
Huffing in frustration, Dwight turned around to face you. However, just as he was about to let out a string of crude remarks, he stopped, spotting something poke out of your waistband. “Stand up.”
“What?”
“Stand up, before I make you,” he threatened.
You hesitantly stood up. However, you nearly stumbled back when he lunged at you. “What the hell are you doing?!” you exclaimed, trying to push him away.
Dwight ignored you. Before you could stop him, he pulled the two pregnancy tests from your waistband, taking a few steps away from you. He eyed the tests, and a look of surprise spread over his face.
“You're pregnant?”
Time stopped. Your heart started pounding against your ribcage, and your eyes widened. You were pregnant. Both tests came back positive. Words eluded you as you simply stared at Dwight.
Dwight shook his head and threw one of the pregnancy tests back in your direction, and you hastily caught it. He pocketed the other one. “Congratulations. I'll be sure to tell Daryl the good news.”
Before you could deny or force him to hand it over, Dwight hurriedly left the room. You sank to your knees on the ground, tears starting to well up in your eyes. You felt helpless, completely and utterly helpless. Sobs wracked through your body as you clutched the pregnancy test in your hand, wishing more than ever that Daryl was there to comfort you, to reassure you that everything would be okay.
But with him being in Negan's clutches, that wouldn't be a reality.
“Hell of a place you got here, Rick,” Negan told Rick, turning around to face him as you all walked towards the gates.
Roughly two hours later, the Saviours were done ransacking your homes and taking whatever they pleased. You had gotten your feelings under control and walked with your leader towards the gates, hoping above all else that you could persuade Negan into letting you at least give the archer a hug.
“Give me a second,” Rick replied, his eyes shifting between the hostile leader of the Saviours and the building beyond the gates.
Negan followed his gaze, before turning back to him. “No.”
“Please, can you just... Give me a second,” Rick pleaded, looking up at Negan.
Negan finally agreed, giving him a nod, a malicious smirk on his face. When Rick jogged over to the building, that left you in Negan's sights, and the man let out a chuckle.
“Well, darling. I see you've actually listened to me. No interactions with your loverboy whatsoever. I'm impressed,” he began, taking a step towards you.
Standing your ground, you simply glared up at him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a sarcastic retort. That simply elicited another chuckle from the man.
“You know, there is a way the two of you could be together again. You could always come work for me. Be one of my soldiers, so to speak,” he began, eyeing you up and down. “Usually I wouldn't offer that straight away, but for a looker like yourself, I'd make an exception. Or you could make Daryl's life a whole lot easier if you want. You could become one of my wives.”
Unable to resist the urge, you drew your hand back and slapped Negan across his face. Taken aback, he stumbled, but that grin of his soon returned. His eyes raked over your form hungrily. “Just so you know, I'm so much more attracted to you now.”
You could hear a scuffle behind you. Glancing over your shoulder, you spotted an angry looking Daryl being held in place by Dwight. The archer glared daggers in Negan's direction, the urge to hit him evident on his face.
However, before anything could happen, Michonne came marching through the gates with a small deer over her shoulders, Rick hot on her tail. She wore a blank expression, refusing to meet Negan's stare.
“Look at this!” Negan exclaimed, eyeing the deer on her shoulders.
“I thought she was scavenging. She was hunting,” Rick explained to Negan, handing him a gun. “This one never came inside.”
Negan took the gun and smirked. “Look at this. This is something to build a relationship on. Good for you, Rick. This is reading the room and getting the message. I said it before, Imma say it again. You, sir, are special.”
Rick looked at you, sympathy clear in his eyes. “Now that you know we can follow your rules...”
“Yes?” Negan drawled.
“I'd like to ask you if Daryl could stay.”
“Not happening,” Negan refused. He turned around to look at you, a smirk on his face. “You know what, just to make the missus happy, maybe he can stay. Maybe Daryl can plead his case. Maybe Daryl can sway me.”
Negan turned to Daryl. The archer remained quiet, his eyes shifting between you and Negan. It was evident that he wouldn't beg to stay; Daryl's pride would never allow him to do that. Although a part of you wanted Daryl to just drop his pride this once, you were proud of him. Despite what he was going through, he remained steadfast in his beliefs. He would never bow to the likes of Negan, no matter what pain it could inflict on him.
“Daryl?” Negan pressed, amused by the archer's silence. When Daryl remained silent, Negan turned back to you. “Well, Rick tried. Sorry, darling.”
You looked down, missing the apologetic look Daryl sent your way. Unbeknownst to you, Daryl had wanted to do nothing more than beg Negan to leave him here with you, but he couldn't. Not when Negan had threatened to hurt you if he tried to return to Alexandria. Not when his hostage situation could ensure your safety.
“Now what you gotta do, is get over that tall wall of yours and try harder out there,” Negan began, looking at Rick. “Earn for me, because we're coming back soon. And when we do, you better have something interesting for us, or Lucille? She's gonna have her way. I want you to hear that again. If you don't have something interesting for us, somebody's gonna die. And no more magic guns. Arat, grab that deer. It's getting late. Let's go home.”
Michonne angrily dropped the deer and turned around. You shot one final lingering glance at the archer, your partner and love of your life, before following suite. Michonne put her arm around your shoulder and together the two of you walked back to your shared home, ignoring Negan's mocking laughter.
“Something's wrong, I can tell,” she whispered quietly.
You shook your head. “I wouldn't necessarily say something is wrong,” you denied. “I just really need Daryl more than ever right now.”
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
“Yeah,” you confirmed. “But not without Rick. I need his opinion too.”
“You're pregnant?”
You physically winced at the incredulous sound of your leader's voice. For the second time that day, someone had asked you that pivotal question, but this one finally made it register in your mind. You were pregnant. And Daryl wasn't there to help you through it.
Michonne wrapped an arm around you, allowing you to lean into her side for support. She rubbed your arm, hoping to bring you some form of comfort under Rick's disbelieving stare.
“Rick,” she scolded, sending her partner a pointed look, as if telling him to read the room.
“Sorry,” he apologized, shifting his attention back to you. “When did you find out?”
“Today,” you whispered, your voice hoarse all of a sudden. “Right after Dwight took me down to the basement to rummage through Daryl's things. He saw the tests and took one. I think he's gonna use it to torture Daryl mentally. How could I let that happen?”
Michonne pulled you tighter against her side, allowing you to cry into her shoulder as she whispered reassuring words into your ear. “It's not your fault. Hey, it's okay. We'll figure it out, I promise.”
You hesitantly nodded against her shoulder, withdrawing from her hold and standing up. You began to pace the room, anxiously fiddling with your fingers.
“What should I do?”
“Go to the Hilltop,” Rick advised, effectively stopping your pacing. “They have a doctor there who can ensure that you and the baby are okay. And you'll have Maggie and Sasha by your side. It'll be safer for you there.”
“I can't just leave,” you shut him down, shaking your head. “Negan is fit to come knocking at the gates whenever he pleases. We need more supplies, and soon. We need more people going out there.”
“Like hell I'm letting you out there,” Rick argued. “Daryl would never forgive me if I let anything happen to you or the baby, whether he knows about it now or not. The best thing you can do now for yourself and your baby is to go to the Hilltop. It's safer and it's out of harm's way. Please, if not for yourself, for Daryl. For your baby.”
Sensing your hesitation, Michonne stood up, facing you head-on. “Rick's right,” she began, capturing your undivided attention. “Go. We'll be okay here. Your primary focus should be your wellbeing right now. Once things cool down around here, I'll come get you myself. I promise.”
You remained quiet for a few moments, pondering over their words before nodding. “Okay,” you whispered. “I'll go.”
“We'll have a car ready for you in the morning,” Rick responded, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You're doing the right thing. Daryl would've wanted this.”
“I know,” you sighed. “It doesn't make it any easier, though.”
The next morning came way too soon for your liking. Packed up and ready to go, you exchanged goodbyes with everyone. You were busy hugging Carl, the teenager clutching to your shirt tightly.
“Don't die,” he told you when he pulled back from the hug.
“Don't do anything stupid,” you retorted, playfully pushing his hat down over his face, successfully coaxing a laugh from him.
After a few more exchanges, and another hug from Carl, you got into the car and drove off, heading towards the Hilltop Colony. The drive was spent in an anxious silence. You were wondering if you'd made the right choice, if leaving Alexandria for a while was really the best decision, but as your hand drifted to your flat abdomen that would soon grow, to the life that fluttered there, you knew that Rick and Michonne were right. Your primary focus should be your baby right now, and you'd be damned if you let anything happen to them.
After a while, the gates to the Hilltop came into view. You got out of the car as the gates opened, soon being engulfed in hugs by Sasha and Maggie. Jesus stood off to the side with a smile on his face.
“What are you doing here?” Maggie asked, pulling back from the hug.
“It's a lot to explain,” you said, giving her a tight-lipped smile.
“Come inside. We'll get you something to eat,” Jesus offered.
You smiled at him and nodded. “Sure. That sounds great.”
“That Gregory guy is such an asshole,” you spat angrily, sitting on the bench outside of Jesus' trailer.
Sasha rolled her eyes. “Welcome to my world. We've been dealing with this prick for two weeks now and he still hasn't gotten better.”
You shook your head, your hand absentmindedly rubbing over your stomach. One week with the Hilltop's leader breathing down your neck and you were just about ready to shoot him. He kept on sending crude remarks in your direction, voicing his obvious disdain that he had yet another Alexandrian he had to keep hidden from the Saviours. Thankfully Jesus was there to put him in his place whenever you were the object of his distasteful glares, and since the day before, Enid as well.
Suddenly, shouts could be heard from the gates, before they were opened. You perked up at the rumble of a motorcycle, standing up to move closer and get a better view, instantly spotting the familiar glint of a familiar motorcycle coming to a halt, and an even more familiar man getting off of it. Your heart started pounding against your ribcage, and before anyone could stop you, you started running.
“Daryl!” you called, running as fast as your legs could carry you.
Daryl turned around at the sound of your voice. As soon as he saw you, he started running as well, meeting you halfway. You practically flung yourself into Daryl's arms, and he instantly reciprocated the hug, burying his face into your shoulder. You hugged him to you tightly, holding the back of his head as you tried to withhold the tears flooding in your eyes.
“C'mon,” Jesus urged gently, prompting you and Daryl to pull apart. “There's a room in the Barrington house. You can use it to get cleaned up and changed into something else.”
Daryl hesitated, but you nodded. “It's okay. I'll be there with you.”
You took Daryl's hand in your own and followed behind Jesus. The two of you were soon in the aforementioned room, Daryl sitting down on the bed while you cleaned up one of the cuts on his face. He remained silent, his eyes locked on your face. He lifted his hand and cupped your cheek, halting your movements.
“What's wrong?” you asked, placing a hand over his one that rested on your cheek.
“M'jus' remindin' myself tha' this is real. Tha' this ain't some trick my mind is playin' on me. Tha' this ain't another dream.”
You gently took his hand and lead it to your heart, placing his hand over it to feel the steady beating of it. “I'm here,” you whispered. “You're here. This isn't a dream. It's real.”
Daryl swallowed and nodded, before letting his hand trail down to your stomach. “Is... Is this real? Are ya pregnant?”
Your heart dropped. The only way he could know was if Dwight did what you suspected—he mentally tortured the love of your life with the knowledge that you could've been pregnant.
Your silence confirmed it for the archer. He sighed and swallowed heavily. “Ya are. Yer pregnant.”
You nodded slowly, guilt creeping up in you. “I am. Did Dwight tell you?”
“He showed me the test. Said it was yers, tha' he found it with ya tha' day we were at Alexandria. I didn't wanna believe him at first, but the more I thought 'bout it, the more I started believin' him,” Daryl replied. “When did ya find out?”
“The first time Negan showed up with all of you,” you admitted. “Dwight took one of the tests from me before I could stop him. I'm sorry, I should've tried harder. You were already going through so much shit with the Saviours, and then he had to go put more shit on you because of me.”
Daryl pulled you into his arms, hugging you tightly. “Dun' blame yerself. Wha' do ya have to be sorry fer? Findin' out yer pregnant?”
“For allowing him to take the test and use it against you.”
“Dun' be sorry. S'okay,” he whispered into your hair, stroking your back softly. Once you had calmed down, Daryl allowed one of his hands to travel back down to your stomach.
“Yer really pregnant?” he asked with a slight laugh, rubbing your stomach affectionately.
You laughed in wonder and nodded. “Yeah. There's a tiny you in there.”
“Nah, they're gon' be a tiny ya. Sweet, kind and a badass, jus' like their mama,” Daryl countered, placing a kiss against your forehead. “Our baby. Our lil' peanut.”
“You really wanna do this? Are you ready to start your own family?” you questioned, leaning your head against his shoulder.
“With ya?” Daryl began, pulling you closer to him. “M'ready fer anythin'.”
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