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angelwings-crossbowstrings · 6 months

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Blood Ties Chapter 21

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD Violence and Gore; Sexual content; Animal death (hunting - not descriptive); Mild description of vomit; a little sad angsty moment; Non-con sedation

You had to admit that holy shit, it was nice to be out in the fresh air. It was cold as fuck, but you were bundled up in the coat that had been brought to you all those weeks ago. It sucked to keep it situated for easy gun and knife access but it was enough. Your feet were warm in your boots, two pairs of socks since they were a little big to accommodate any swelling of your feet as the pregnancy progressed but that only meant that your toes were nice and toasty. Leggings under maternity jeans were a hindrance when the baby decided to drop kick your bladder, but otherwise, necessary to ensure you didn’t get frostbite in very inconvenient areas, as well as your legs.

You had been walking through the snow for about an hour before coming across any walkers. There were two, both women. One a little older than Beth and one about your own age. They moved slower in the cold, you had noticed. After putting them down, you became aware that their skin appeared to be freezing solid.

“Walker popsicles. Huh.” You muttered, storing that information to share. Another fifteen minutes went by and you had still seen no game, so you decided to stop and rest. You weren’t necessarily out of shape but you were growing a human inside of you. That tended to take a bit out of the energy department. You had swiped a canteen and some of the jerky, partaking of both to make sure you could carry out what you came to do.

“Alright, Thumper. Let’s see if we can figure out daddy’s weapon of choice. Can’t be that hard, right?” You promptly came very close to shooting a bolt into your own foot. You blinked at it and looked around as if there had been anyone else to see the incident before putting a hand to your belly. Thumper rolled as if just as shocked. “Let’s just keep that between us, okay?”

It was the operation that hindered you. Once you figured out the mechanics,—with about forty-five minutes of tinkering—aiming and firing were things that came naturally to you. Daryl was going to murder you when he had to fix everything you had fucked with in your exploration of the weapon. Collecting the bolts you had used for practice, you froze, eyes narrowed on the small indentations in the snow. Rabbits.

Small game was your specialty. You always hunted rabbits and squirrels when it was just you and father. There was nowhere to keep an abundance of meat in your small home. No smokehouse. It had been different when the family would come over, your aunt and uncles. They loved their venison and you never had to be concerned with wasting anything.

The smile that lifted the corners of your mouth was one born of bittersweet longing. You wished your father could be there to meet his grandchild, but you were—at the same time—thankful that he wasn’t around to see what had truly become of the world, that it would never go back to how it used to be.

Still, you chuckled as you wiped away a tear. Your father would have had one hell of a time getting used to the idea of Daryl being the father, but in the end, he would have been the first to see through that rough exterior to the man hidden underneath. And he would not have wasted a single second before calling the archer out on it.

“If you’re a boy, I could name you after your grandad. Maybe after your uncle, if your daddy wants.” Daryl still hadn’t revealed much about his family. Maybe once he was better, you could sit with him and just talk, quid pro quo. You ask a question about him, and then him about you. He seemed to be okay with that sorta thing. He never liked being the center of attention.

He also appeared interested in learning about you in every way he could. It hadn’t taken you long to notice the way he picked up on things and filed them away. He knew how you liked your meat cooked when it was being eaten outside of a stew. He would take it from Carol and do it himself, usually. He knew how things touching the front of your throat made you feel uncomfortable, like scarves or the top buttons of a flannel, stopping Maggie from wrapping a rather pretty knit fabric around your neck one bitterly cold morning.

Daryl also knew just how to touch you, how to curl his fingers inside of you and how much pressure you needed when his thumb would graze over your clit. He excelled in making you shiver by wetting his digits with your own arousal before dragging the tips over your skin to stimulate your nipples. He did all this while pressing soft kisses just behind your ear or over your pulse, everyone sleeping around you being none the wiser. It was always so incredibly erotic to be brought over the edge knowing that any of them could simply open their eyes and see that he was working you over.

Maybe you could show him what you knew he liked while he recovered. You knew for a fact that he would groan if you lapped and nibbled at a specific area just above his collarbone. He would never admit it but you had noticed the way touching his nipples made his hips jerk when he was inside of you. The first time you’d gone down on him back in the woods, you had kitten-licked at his tip and pressed your thumb against the vein that ran underneath, dragging the digit up his length. He had clawed at the tree behind him so hard that you were certain he’d be picking splinters from beneath his nails afterward.

It took a soft thump to the cranium, snow falling from a branch overhead, to bring you from your pleasant thoughts. With an ache between your thighs and the prospect of maybe getting some alone time with your boyfriend—you still needed to clarify what you could call him, if anything—while he wasn’t trying to evict his lungs from within his chest, you whined quietly. You kinda wished you had stayed there and were curled up in bed with him. Was he okay? Were the meds helping? Was Carol whacking him over the head with the bedpost to keep him from chasing you?

You had nearly convinced yourself to turn back when you saw the first rabbit, a decent sized cane cutter that would make a nice stew to last a couple of days. It hadn’t seen you and taking it down was easy since you had not yet shouldered the crossbow.

“One down, Thumper!” You took one step and then paused. “It’s kinda insensitive to call you Thumper when I’m hunting rabbits, isn’t it?”

You had two rabbits by the time at least three and a half hours had passed, a little disappointing but it was freezing and you did have to make periodic stops to put down walking corpses and even more stops to pee. You were feeling a little nauseous as well, so it was likely beyond time to head back. Maybe Daryl would rest just as well the next day and you could come back out since this excursion would show everyone you could handle yourself out there.

Wiping your knife across your thigh after yet another slow moving walker, you had barely secured it into the sheath before you noticed the tracks.

Deer.

A single deer, young but more than a year. Based on the depth of the tracks, you could likely manage to haul it back on your own if you could take it down. Chewing the inside of your cheek, you glanced at the way back to the house; back to Daryl.

This was all for him, after all. The more food you could secure, the longer he could rest and recover. The decision was simple after that. Ensuring a bolt was loaded, you set out to do what you once did best.

You were still her.

The only differences were the people in your family were no longer an aunt and two uncles, the main man in your life was no longer your father, and you were 11 or so weeks away from having your own baby. You had never needed to be provided for, always the provider. There was no reason you and Daryl couldn’t share that responsibility. When the baby came, you’d adjust and adapt, providing differently and that was okay. The longer you could nurse Thumper, the easier it would make things. You’d step back then, let Daryl take over. It would be even more important to him then, the need to provide. You’d be a team, each caring for the baby in your own way.

The prospect was equal parts exciting and terrifying. New parents in a dystopian world. It wasn’t impossible. It was just dangerous. Daryl had done so well, thinking ahead when he had cleared that Wal-Mart. So much that would be needed already secured, ready to carry with your group when moving from place to place. With a small, tender smile, you glanced at the bracelet for morning sickness you still wore. It likely no longer worked, but you couldn't really bear to part with it.

You wanted to search out a baby store eventually, or make a request for a run. Cloth diapers would be a lifesaver once the disposable ones had been used. Infant and children’s medications needed to be stocked.

Thumper gave your ribs a jab, earning a hiss in response. “Okay, okay. I’m focused. Jeez, kid, can you be any more like your father?”

The tracks were getting closer together in clusters, the deer stopping to check out areas in search of food. You were catching up, the falling snow not yet filling in the prints. In the back of your mind, you maintained an active regard for the time you’d been gone, one eye on the sun to ensure you’d make it back before dark. You would be late and you’d steered off course but you were confident. You’d need to circle around and place yourself downwind soon if you wanted to stand a chance. This is what you knew.

You’d meet up with the search party at the very least on your journey back. That is if Carol hadn’t grown anxious and sent them earlier. Or Daryl—dear god, if Daryl hadn’t somehow managed to drag himself out of that house. No, they wouldn’t let him. You had to believe that. It would be Rick, Glenn, and T-Dog. Maybe Maggie. They’d likely be sore at needing to come find you but if you were hauling a deer, that disgruntlement would likely be forgotten quickly. You just needed to ensure you succeeded and that you stayed safe.

Just as you continued to track, you muttered a curse at a slow shuffling walker. One bolt needed to remain untainted for hunting and, so far, your knife had been sufficient but you were closing in on your target. Using the crossbow would be ideal for the dead at that juncture. Nearly silent kills. The crossbow was level with your eyes when you saw it.

The doe’s head perked up just beyond some snow-covered shrubbery, ears twitching. “Fuck.” You whispered. You had to take the deer first or risk it running from the walker. It had already spotted the threat, getting ready to move. There was no time to think. The deer went down easily, your muttered apologies and gratitude for what it would provide for your group were unheard as you dropped the bow and sprinted for the corpse.

Loading another bolt would take too much time, the deer would be lost to the walker. You were already cutting it close this way, the snow and the off-centered weight of your belly slowing you down. Just as the dead man began to fall on top of your kill for the unearned feast, you tackled him. There was a jolt of pain in your midsection but your knife was already sinking into an eye socket, the deed done.

“Ow,” you muttered. Scanning the area for threats as you unzipped and moved clothing, raising your sweater to look at the deep red mark on the side of your belly, just below your right rib cage. “Fuck.” A knee or elbow must have been angled just right to jab you on impact. “You okay in there?” Your sweater still rolled up, you laid your knife on your thigh and caressed the taut skin with both hands. “Come on, Thumps, need you to move.” A foot or hand pressed firmly into the injured side. “Okay, okay! Point taken! No more tackling walkers. Ouch, you little gremlin.” With a huff, you adjusted your clothing. You’d have Hershel look you over and check on the baby when you returned.

Wiping your knife on your jeans, you secured it on the sheath and crawled over to the deer. It remained unsullied and perfect to feed your family. It was a clean, quick kill and it didn’t suffer. You were always thankful for those.

“Alright, let’s get this back—” No time to register what was happening before you tilted over to retch violently. “Shit.” You panted, looking away from the mess of bile, water, and undigested jerky. Of course this couldn’t just go smoothly. Once again, the world had decided to fuck you. “At least Daryl beat it to getting me pregnant.” You laughed at your lame joke and laid back against the belly of the deer to catch your breath.

“Fucker.” You growled, angling your leg to kick the man's corpse. The baby moved as you laid there, the slightly ripple showing beneath your coat and sweater. “Oh, hey. I could see that.” You smiled, rubbing your very upset stomach. “Your father is gonna skin me right along with this deer.” You nodded to yourself. Closing your eyes, you took deep, calculated breaths in an attempt to gain control over the nausea.

But when they opened again, it was dark, the sun having fled and the moon bright in the star-filled sky. You groaned as you sat up, checking yourself and the area around you for any signs of walker activity. No bites. Your deer was frozen but whole. Shaking off the snow that had gathered on you, you rubbed your hands together, digging through the pockets of your coat with numb fingers in search of your gloves.

“You good in there, Thumps?”

Nothing.

You had just finished pulling on the second glove before stilling to stare at your round stomach hidden beneath your coat. “Thumper?” You had grown so accustomed to the baby reacting when you spoke that to feel such stillness made your chest tighten. “Baby?” Swallowing hard, you adjusted your clothing again, shivering when the chill of the night air struck your belly. “Come on, baby, can you move for mama?”

What if the baby had died inside you? Does the virus affect a fetus? What if you carried the baby only for them to be born a walker?

Then there was movement, gentle ripples below the skin. Some that you could see, some that you couldn’t. But the thought remained, a very real terror that your baby could already be dead and just trying to get out.

You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. You could only jerk your eyes back and forth at the sound of footsteps getting closer.

“Whatcha sittin’ in the snow for, Peanut?”

Now you definitely couldn’t breathe. There, bathed in moonlight, standing on two very there, very functioning legs, was your father. “Dad—daddy?”

“Hey, there.” You sat stock still, sweater still rolled up, eyes still frozen on him as he approached and crouched in front of you. “Let’s get you all fixed up here.” Gentle hands fixed your clothing, zipped your coat, and ruffled your hair.

“Am I dreaming?” You asked with the slightest wobble to your voice.

“‘Fraid so, Peanut-butter.” When the sound that punched out of you was like a painful sob, he was ducking to find your eyes. “Hey, hey. None of that.”

“I miss you.” You sniffled, letting him pull you close with his chin on your head. “There’s so much—”

“I know, baby girl. I’ve been watching.” He pulled back, thumbing away your tears. “Gonna be a grandpa, I see. Daddy wouldn’t have been my first choice but he surprised me.”

“You like him?” You smiled, lopsided and silly, giggling when he rolled his eyes.

“No father thinks any man is good enough for his little girl, but this one? Well, he keeps surprising me.” He offered you a hand, pulling you up with him as he stood. “He needs you. He’s always needed you just as much as you’ve needed him. So you need to get you and my grandbaby back to him before he loses his mind.”

“But the baby—”

“Is fine.” He chortled, gently stroking your cheek. “You’ll be an amazing mama, Peanut.” He was starting to fade right before your eyes. “You’ll see.”

“Don’t go.” You pleaded, hands passing through his shoulders when you tried to pull him back.

“I’m so proud of you.” His voice was echoing, distant even when you could still see his face. “You’ll be fine, all three of you. But now you need to wake up.”

A tear was frozen to your temple, pulling at your skin there when your eyes opened. Snow peppered down from the dark sky, the moon barely visible beyond the clouds. You felt no panic, breaths coming calmly and the baby kicking periodically, even if it did smart when the little extremities connected with the sensitive injury.

You winced pulling yourself away from the deer you knew would be at least partially frozen. The meat would keep, at least. You’d let the men handle the thawing and prepping anyway. The area was dark, no signs of flashlights or sounds of voices. They had either passed you by or never came at all.

It wouldn’t matter in the end.

Because you were going back to them.

Getting to your feet, you gathered your things and prepared to drag the deer. It would likely be about 115 pounds so carrying it was unlikely. You wouldn’t risk leaving it for later retrieval, not when 45 to 50 pounds of meat was likely from that single kill. Hell no.

You had once dragged Daryl while he was soak and wet and he had at least 60 pounds on that deer. This was doable. You just needed to think. Eyes darting around, you let your fingers drum on your tummy while you pondered. With a deep breath, you started to believe you’d just be dragging the damn thing by hand but then you noticed the walker you had put down. Grabbing your knife, you grinned like a damn fool and set to work.

Lori was pacing in front of the door, watching the men prepare to leave. “You should have already been out there hours ago! Before dark, Rick!” When the deputy stood with a sigh, she didn’t back down. “Do you remember when the decision was made to leave Daryl out when he didn’t come back? Who went to get him? What shape he was in when she brought him back?”

“Yes, I remember, okay! I was just trying to give her the benefit of the doubt! She seemed like she had something she wanted to prove.”

“She said four hours. Carol came to you before that because we were about to lose Daryl on a crazy quest to find her.” Maggie was looking at Glenn but then sent a pointed glance to each of them.

“He’s gonna have a lot to say when he finds out you waited, especially after what we had Hershel do.” Carol said from her spot on the top of the stairs.

“What did Hershel do?” All eyes turned to you in the doorway, dropping the straps you had made from the walker’s overalls. It was Lori that made it to you first, her arms winding around you awkwardly with two different sized bumps barring the way.

“Carol told us you had left to hunt and all I could think about were the things I said upstairs.” The other woman’s eyes were wet and sincere. With a smile, you pulled off one of your gloves and wiped a thumb below her eye. You didn’t say anything because what could you say? She had been incredibly insulting to Daryl and you wouldn’t speak for him. Maybe she would get the hint and talk to him eventually. Maybe not.

You looked past Lori toward Rick, T-Dog, and Glenn. "Got a deer and two rabbits." Then your next smile, wry as it was, aimed up the stairs. “What did Hershel do, Carol?” Carl and Beth came thumping out of the kitchen, throwing their arms around you. You hugged them close while your eyes flitted over to the old veterinarian himself walking along the banister from Daryl’s room. You were gentle when pulling away from the kids, tossing a kills are on the porch, have fun at the men while you began your ascent.

Carol fell in step with you.

“Before anything else,” you started, unzipping your coat, “I had a literal run-in with a walker. Hershel, can you—?” You rolled up your sweater, the skin already bruising.

“Has the baby been active?” He asked immediately, probing the area with tenderness while the other hand struggled to place his stethoscope in his ears.

“It’s Nascar in there, I promise.” You felt the baby squirm slightly before they settled again, your eyes on the old man’s face, watching for any concern. You found none and let out a breath when he straightened.

“Seems like all is well. Heartbeat is just fine and it is indeed the Indy 500. You were lucky.” There was a bit of a reprimand in that last statement, one you couldn’t say was unwarranted. Nodding in agreement, you made up your mind that as long as the meat could last until Daryl was on his feet, you wouldn’t venture out alone again.

You then turned to Carol. You had told her to do whatever it took to keep him there, even knock him out. If Hershel was involved, you assumed the knocking out was of a medicational nature. He wasn’t dead, they would have been smart enough to tell you that around people that could restrain you. “Okay, what’s the damage?” You asked from just beside the doorway, afraid to look inside just yet. “Is he tied down?” Carol shook her head.

“He was determined, Y/N. He pulled out the IV, only made it to the stairs before collapsing. They couldn’t get him back into the room, weak as he was, he fought all three of those grown men.” Hershel sighed. “I gave him a very small dose of morphine. It was enough to sedate him without compromising his respiration.”

You groaned. That man was going to verbally rip you a new asshole, but you’d take it with grace because it was going to keep him safe and give him more time to recover. As long as the meat was prepared and rationed correctly, it could last a while. Maybe that would give you a chance to get back on his good side.

He needs you. He’s always needed you just as much as you’ve needed him.

“Okay, so what do I need to do?” You asked, finally rolling your back against the wall to place you inside the room. Daryl was out. You had never seen the man so unconscious, and you’d seen him nearly die. That was a frightening thought. The plus side was that his color was so much better and the rattle in his chest couldn’t be heard until you were much closer. He didn’t stir in the slightest when you sat down next to his left hip, all the way around toward the wall, avoiding the arm with the replaced IV.

“You won’t need to do much of anything. Monitor his breathing and fetch me if it gets too slow. It shouldn’t with the dose I gave him but his body has been fighting a horrific illness, so we can’t be too careful. It’s been a couple of hours so it will likely start wearing off soon, regardless. When he wakes up, make sure he drinks and encourage him to cough. Coughing and keeping the lungs free of mucus and liquid is crucial.”

You were nodding almost robotically, your fingertips just brushing his hair back and forth with no particular rhyme or reason. Just touching him.

“His fever has yet to break but it’s lowered dramat—is she even listening to me?” Hershel finally asked Carol, who chuckled and leaned across Daryl to clasp your shoulder until you looked at her.

“Watch how he breathes, don’t let it get too slow. Only for an hour or so. Get him to cough and drink when he wakes up. Fever has come down but hasn’t broken. I’ll come tell you when to give him more tylenol. Okay?”

You smiled, both embarrassed and grateful. “Okay.” With a nod to Hershel and an eye roll at Carol’s wink, you watched them shut the door.

Your hand on his cheek had to be freezing. They had just said his fever was down but he felt like a furnace to you. Shit. You were still in the clothes you had been wearing out in the snow. Coat, boots, jeans, and one pair of socks were quickly shed, you were in your sweater and leggings with your thicker socks still covering your feet. You’d been gone long enough and couldn’t seem to wait another second to crawl onto the bed with him. He shivered once but settled, his head turning toward you. You thought for a moment he might wake but he remained still.

With a deep breath, you settled yourself against his shoulder so that you could look up at his face. “I know you’re going to be mad as fuck at me, and I get it. You have a right to be and I won’t tell you otherwise. I was careful, I promise.” Your palm settled on his chest, feeling his heart lazily thump against it. “I have a—well, it’s just a bruise. Hershel looked at it. Thumper’s okay. I’m okay.” Why were you even talking? He was sound asleep. “I didn’t like being away from you while you were so sick. I don’t think I would have liked it even if you weren’t sick.”

Your hand left his chest for your fingers to dance along his jaw while you admired just how peaceful he looked. No lines of worry or pain. Just resting, fully relaxed. Seeing him like that just made your own exhaustion compound into something nearly unavoidable. With a large yawn, you snuggled closer and placed your hand back on his chest, counting his breaths like sheep. You knew you were losing the battle to stay awake, a tinge of worry sparking to life in your chest until you felt him move, nuzzling his cheek against the top of your head. He wasn’t so sedated that he couldn’t move.

Sighing, you smiled and finally let your eyes drift closed. “I love you.” You whispered, too far gone to react when the hand sporting the IV came to rest on top of yours.

“Me too, crazy girl.”

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salmonight · 1 year

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DannyMay 2023, Day 15: Full Hazmat AU

Tittle: The Cleaner: First File

Summary: One day green glowing monsters started appearing and attacking cities all over the globe, and with them, arrived 'The Cleaner'. The Justice League has not uncovered any real information about them to this day. Meanwhile, Danny in a full hazmat suit: 'People can't even let me take a friggin nap!!'

One day, green glowing monsters and people started to appear all along the globe. No one knew where they came from, only that they enjoyed wreaking havoc wherever they showed up.

With the entities came 'The Cleaner' as they were titled. They always appeared no more than 10 minutes after a villain - from the ‘Green Dimension’, as they named it - showed up, and contained them in ten seconds flat, immensely helping in keeping the damage to the minimum.

The only saving grace was that these aliens never got anyone killed. Everyone in the Justice League found this observation extremely bizarre. But even with no casualties, the repair costs were enormous.

No matter how much the JL looked, there were never sightings of the figure other than during the fights, when they seemed to appear out of thin air. Internet searches came up blank as well, only filled with excited rants and candid photos taken by civilians. With these, they concluded that “The Cleaner” was either a) a brand new hero previously unknown, or b) from the same dimension the glowing entities came from. The whole League was miffed, with the Bats even more so, collectively losing their shit over having no contingency plans against the unknown figure.

Fully covered in a red and black hazmat suit nobody had a clue about their identity, even their gender was shrouded in mystery. Somehow their outfit, even without being overly baggy managed to hide any distinguishing bodily characteristics that otherwise would have been visible.

Until…. one day, one of the speedsters overheard the ‘Cleaner’s’ rant.

It went as any of their usual fights with the green monsters did. Not even a few minutes after the beast started to destroy the buildings, their mysterious hero materialized into existence in front of it. Instead of immediately throwing a punch like they expected, ‘The Cleaner’ instead stared at them with the most deadpan expression they could convey with a helmet on. For some reason, the speedster got a huge 'I’m-so-done-with-this-shit' vibe. Or that was just his overactive imagination. It was hard to tell with the headgear on. He must have gotten it right though, because then they tiredly put a palm to their face with one hand, and, without looking, flicked open the lid of a tube and sucked the entity into it with the other.

Surprisingly, The Cleaner didn’t immediately disappear once the monster was gone, so he took a few steps closer as they hung the green, metal tube ( which he could now tell was actually a soup thermos? What? ) back on his belt and pulled out an honest-to-god cellphone.

He didn't even have to strain his ears to listen in on the ensuing phone call since they were talking pretty loudly. And boy, did they sure sound pissed.

“I swear to the Ancients, Tuck,” the ‘Cleaner’ complained, motioning with their hands aggressively to emphasize their point “If I have to come to fetch another one of these god damned brats I'm gonna treat them the same way they act and build them a time out corner in either the warden’s prison or the palace. I'm pretty sure both Walker and Frightknight would love to teach them a lesson about tact!"

There was a pause as he listened to whoever they were talking to on the other end of the line. “No, I don't care that they’re centuries older than me. If they act like spoiled children they get treated as such!”

They let out an annoyed harrumph “I was taking a nap, Tuck. A NAP!!! You know I don't take naps! Not to mention I’m retired! What the hell am I? Their nanny? I don’t even get paid to clean up the messes they make! Can't they just keep their ecto ass sitting still in the realm for at least a few centuries to let me take my well deserved break!? But nooooo, these asshats have to make even more paperwork for me to do!"

“When I told them not to break into Amity anymore I did not mean for them to go to another dimension and terrorize a whole-ass-planet!!!” The ‘Cleaner’ threw up their spare hand in exasperation.

Their grumbling still could be heard as, with a wave of their hands, a portal opened, made out of a green swirling mass. Ignoring everyone else’s presence they stepped into the portal as it was the most common thing in the world.

The speedster could only watch and gape at the now empty air. They certainly did not know they could do that.

Now that he remembers though, they did sound like a male didn't they? He couldn’t estimate their age from the voice as it was very muffled coming through the headgear, but it was definitely not feminine.

And that's how the Justice League got their first ever info about the mysterious ‘Cleaner’.

Finally, the first real data was entered into the vigilante’s (?) file:

Name: UNKNOWN

Alias: “The Cleaner”

Age: UNKNOWN

Gender: Male

Origin: UNKNOWN

Race: UNKNOWN

Appearance: UNKNOWN

Power(s): Flight (or hovering, unconfirmed which), Super strength(?), Teleportation(?), Portal creation (confirmed)

Weakness(es): UNKNOWN

Costume: A full black and red hazmat suit. The headgear has a black, unreflective screen that has green orbs (eyes?) shining behind it. Matte black gloves, combat boots and belt. There are compartments added to the belt. Content: UNKNOWN

Weapon(s): a metal thermos(?) with green accents

Personality: UNKNOWN

Affiliates: Tuck (?) (no file available)

Takedown plan(s): Impossible to make without further data

Note: The entity always deals with the threats quickly and effectively. Their moves speak of prior experience.

Ao3

The one that helped betaing this work once again is the lovely Amateum!

My hands were itching to draw something so in a 'why the fuck not' mode i drew Danny's file.

Except as sequel of this with arts and all fellas cuz am already preparing it!

The sketch:

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inamindfarfaraway · 3 months

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I need to clarify that Duke Thomas did not create the We Are Robin movement. It was already up and running, albeit in its early days, when he joined. He was the last addition to his cell. This is their first appearance.

From left to right, not counting the guys who’ve been and are being knocked out: Duke, Izzy Ortiz, Troy Walker, Daxton Chill, Riko Sheridan and Andre Cipriani. Duke is down here looking for his missing, Joker-gassed parents among the homeless. The others are here to foil a terrorist cult of homeless people, and also because their shadowy true leader has his eye on Duke and specifically sent them to give him the chance to sign up. Duke jumps into their dangerous mission like the hero he is. That same day, Troy dies. He stays behind to defuse a bomb and can’t, while his close friends and teammates, and Duke who just got here, escape on a train. In the wake of this trauma, Duke decides that he doesn’t care that that could happen to him. He wants to be a hero.

He goes on to be one of the network’s most influential and accomplished members, being a natural leader and impressing the official Robins the most (along with his friends, they’re the best team). The movement really takes off after he joins. Mostly due to exponential expanding numbers, but partly due to him. So I understand why fans think he started it, on top of him being the obvious choice as the one who becomes a proper Bat. But he didn’t.

We never learn the original amateur Robin’s name. It could have been anyone. An unseen, unremarkable background character lit a spark that set Gotham ablaze. I think that’s pretty beautiful. It definitely fits for the comic’s themes of community, being part of something greater than yourself and how ordinary people collectively can have a powerful impact that transcends their individual weakness. What’s important is that We Are Robin exists and endures. That we are all Robins together. It’s the “Anyone can be Spider-Man” idea from the Spider-Verse movies with no superpowers attached.

So who is the mysterious mastermind, the reason Duke enlisted in the first place?

Alfred Pennyworth. He either founded or cofounded We Are Robin himself or stepped in to organize and equip the very first wave of kids. He acts anonymously in disguises or online, using the handle the Nest. He gives his recruits special phones that connect them to him and each other, their armoured uniforms, information and weapons if they need them. Some, like Dax with his wrench and later handmade grappling hook guns, prefer their own tools. But he does tell Dax the key to making the grapple guns compact.

Stop joking about Duke founding a teen vigilante street gang. Alfred founding a teen vigilante street gang is much funnier. He should never hear the end of it. It’s implied that he did it all independently and kept it secret from the rest of the Batfamily, so they might not even know about it until Duke, who figured it out during his first meeting with Alfred out of disguise, informs them. And Duke’s real origin story needs no exaggeration. It shows him to be a proactive, altruistic menace with no regard for rules or his own safety just fine.

#it’s such an unhinged origin story #‘so duke how did you meet your girlfriend?’#‘oh well…’#he ran away into the sewers watched her kick butt and then got shared trauma with her #‘i was really there for her when her friend died’#and with her #he watched a teenager die #yeah yeah tim stared broodily at jason’s memorial a lot #but did he WATCH HIM DIE?#no! only duke went into vigilantism fully emotionally comprehending the risks #but yeah it was alfred the whole time #alfred started the gang. duke ran with it and kind of led it #we are robin was alfred’s baby but duke was its cool older sibling who taught it life skills #we are robin #duke thomas #alfred pennyworth #dc comics #dc #batman comics

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misguidedasgardian · 19 days

Text

Wildcats (Part XXVI)

XXVI. If that's a Savior...

MASTERLIST

Summary: Everything you know on survival is put to the test as you find yourself in a leader-less, unstable, enemy territory

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Zombie apocalypse AU, living dead, zombies, guts, blood, guns, THIS IS HEAVY, THIS CHAPTER WILL INCLUDE, torture, cursing, threats, several beatings, branding with iron, dark themes, will feature the Sanctuary, so, everything dark that comes with it, branding with hot iron, might miss some important warnings, but you know what this is about

+18, MINORS DNI

Notes: Reader has the mouth of a sailor, just like me muahaha.

You came to your senses when someone grabbed your limp body from what you guessed was the back of the truck, you felt cold, and… they handled you poorly as they dragged your feet in the air while they grabbed you by your arms.

You felt the moaning of walkers, feet walking on cement, big metal doors opening, but when you thought you opened your eyes you still couldn’t see anything, they had placed some sort of potato sack over your head.

“Who the hell is that?”

“We want to talk to the boss”, said one of your captors.

“Negan is not here”

“We are all Negan asshole”

“Hey gents!”, said a fourth person, “I’m Negan, what’s up?’

“We bought a guest that we thought Negan would like to meet”

“Are you an idiot? you never bring people back here!”, you heard an annoyed voice, and then, the hood they placed over your head was removed, “well shit! unless they look like that!”. a man was standing right in front of you, he was lean and tall, wearing an indiana jones kinda outfit and a horseshoe kinda mustache, he was… middle aged?, you were guessing early fifties. He was very creepy looking

“My oh my!”, he said, in a very exaggerated way, “and who this might be?”

“We found her in sector 8”, said one of those clowns trying to be professional, “wouldn’t tell us where her people is”

“Is that right sweetheart?”, he asked

“I tried to tell Thing One and Thing Two that I’m alone, but they decided to clog me and bring me here”, you said, annoyed, he looked back at you, theatrically pretending to think about this “dilemma”

“Oh I see”, he said, “so I guess you didn’t tell them”

“I did”, you said with a fake smile. Trying to act as you were not scared to death. You were in some sort of factory, this thing was huge. They led you in, to what would be the operation floor of the factory, and oh Gods… This was a huge operation, and barely an hour out from Alexandria, well, the town, so maybe two hours or so, you lost consciousness, but it was still early on the day. The thing was fill to the brim with people, and some of them were armed to the teeth, and this main dude looked like a maniac

You could not break

You couldn’t tell them what you knew, where you came from, where you were.

“I’m alone”, you said softly, “I scavenge for a living, never stay put in one place”, you said with certainty.

You couldn’t help but hug yourself, as a shiver ran down through you when you realized…

You couldn’t see a way out of this one

He analyzed you, looked down at you with piercing dark eyes, seeing every reaction, every movement of your face, he seemed like he could see your very thoughts. He passed one of his skinny arms over your shoulders.

“Well, I have to say… those guys…”, he hissed theatrically, “not the brightest bulbs in the box”, he whispered to your ear, “sorry about that…”, he placed his finger strategically where a bruise had formed in the side of your head. You hissed in pain, trying to release yourself from his hold. “Well!”, he said, so suddenly it made you jump, releasing you, “if you are alone in the world, we can remedy that! right?”, he asked those who were near, “we are The Saviors for a reason!”

No, no, no, no, the more you’ll see, the less are the chances of them letting you leave with the information you were going to collect

“Let me give you a nice little tour”, he offered, you shook your head

“I’d really like to get going”, you said, seeing as you were barely on the entrance

“Nonsense”, he said quickly

“Yes it will get dark and I need to get my things and find shelter”, you said, you took a step back, but immediately felt a thick presence behind you. There was a tall, big guy

Now you were scared, you took shaky breaths, you felt your heart beating

“Now darling do you really expect me to believe you are out there alone?”, he asked mockingly, “you don’t strike me as the type who would survive out there”, you were getting tired of hearing that, “and your clothes are all cleaned up…”, he leaned in, sniffing your shoulder, “is that freakin’ Tide?”, he asked. This guy did not know personal space, and that scared the crap out of you.

“I got lucky”, you mumbled, “in my last raid”, you said, but he chuckled darkly

“You don’t have to be afraid sweetheart”, he said, he leaned in, he was really creepy, “tell me where it is, the place you called home”, you shook your head slowly.

“Such a place doesn’t exist”, you mumbled, “I’m alone, wandering, my people are dead, we got overrun, months ago”, you said quickly.

“Well!”, he said, making you jump, “if that’s the case….”, he spread his arms as you pointed at the whole factory, “you can join us!”, he said quickly. You looked back nervously

“Is not like you are giving me much of a choice”, you said

“Fat Joey, leave the lady alone, don’t you see you are making her uncomfortable?”, he said simply, the big man only chuckled and backed away a few steps. “Let me show you around”, he said with a crazy smile, he grabbed you by your injured shoulder, it didn’t hurt anymore so long you didn’t… You hissed and that made him stop, so he grabbed the neck of your shirt and opened it until he saw the wound.

He laughed again, the very sound made you tremble

“And who might have patch you up, uh? if you are all alone?”, he asked

“I did”, you said firmly

“Front… and back?”, he kept going, he grabbed you and made you walk… each step you took, each room you saw, each person you watched walk by with a gun, you were getting more and more scared… oh gods, this place was a menace.

“We are dedicated to the protection of communities all over the state”, he said, against trying to sound professional, “As nobody told you before, this place, is the Sanctuary, we, are the saviors”

“That’s just misleading propaganda”, you said, “you save shit”, he laughed at your humorless joke.

“We saved you darling!”, he said. You got to one of the top floors, to some very luxurious apartments, until you reached a big room, with couches, fancy furniture, a bar even, and existing in it, where there were beautiful ladies.

“This… are Negan’s wives”, he said

“Wives? like… plural…?”, you asked, disgusted, they didn’t even look at you, they kept doing what they were doing, there was one crying in the corner.

“Look I usually don’t do this, and I’m in no position to offer for you to become one of Negan’s wives, or… you could be one of mine”, it was your turn to laugh.

“You don’t even know me”, you said

“Well, you have been out there, alone, carrying some cool ass weapon, you are a looker for sure”, you winced, this guy was really creepy. but your face of disgust was clearly noticeable, so he hissed and kept going, you humiliated him, thankfully in private. Well, not in private, a woman and the man that was nicknamed Fat Joey were walking behind you closely.

“Be a soldier then”, he said, as he kept walking to the inferior levels. “You will live like a freakin’ Queen, respected, anything you want will be yours”

“And what does being a soldier entails?”, you asked him, now, you were learning

“You go and do as Negan commands”, he said simply, “Or…”

“Door number three?”, you asked him, “I wonder behind which door you let me go on my merry way”, you mocked

“If you have a special skill you will become a worker and work for points!”, he said.

“Points?”, you asked him back, not impressed

“But you can clearly be a soldier”, he said. You did not like this at all, this man seemed determined, he was not this Negan person but he was high in the chain of command, if not the second in command, and he wanted to climb up, giving you these creepy proposals. To you, a stranger.

You walk back to the inferior levels as he kept yapping about the orders of things and they believed in. And you had dictated in your head, that they were a terrible threat, if they came across Alexandria you stood no chance against them.

You came back to the main floor, where the heat of things was.

“You didn't tell me your name darling”, he asked, and you calculated that you could not possibly push him down the stairs with a kick and not suffer the consequences.

“You didn’t tell me yours”, you said back, frowning

“I’m Negan”, he said simply, you frowned when you looked at him. You stood on some sort of balcony.

“You are not Negan”, you said, “you are just some type of henchmen”, you admitted, you had ears and you were not an idiot. He deadass laughed in your face, but his eyes were like crazy eyes, you had seen a lot of those since the world collapsed.

“Hey!”, he screamed, the factory floor stopped and looked at you both, “WHO ARE YOU!?”, he asked out loud.

“Negan!”, they all said at the same time. He turned back to you, smiling

“Nice cult you got here”, you said with a exaggerated smile, “now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get a ride back into town”, you mocked, “and out of here”

“After seeing all this you don’t wanna’ stay?”, he asked, he leaned in even more, you could feel his minty breath on your face, “You know what that tells me?”, he asked all dandy, “You have a camp, don’t you? a nice one at that”, you cursed yourself for having such a “readable” face

“I’m better off on my own”, you said quickly

“No, you see, I don’t think that’s it”, he said, always exaggerating with his body language, “you are eager to leave, that tells me someone is waiting for you, maybe a Mr? Or Mrs”, he said with his hands in the air, “I don’t judge”, he smiled creepily at you, “where’s your camp?”, you looked at him dead in the eye

“I don’t have one”, you weren’t lying, it wasn’t a camp

“Damn you’re good”, he exclaimed. “Look, I don’t wanna hurt you”, he said dangerously, “I can get my men to squeeze it out of you, I don’t want to do that… now… show me the place you call home”, he said, dangerously slow. Your hair in the back of your head stood up, goosebumps down your arms. You shook your head

Who the fuck do he thinks he is?

“I’m alone”, you said shakily. He closed his eyes, like asking someone else to give him patience.

“Arat!”, he called and a woman showed up, “this is our new guest, show her to her suite”, he demanded. If he thought than a tiny woman was going to make you do anything, he was sorely mistaken, with a kick you made her fall on her ass on the metal stairs, you turned to him quickly, kicking him in the shin, when he folded in pain, you grabbed his head and smacked it against the metal railing

Sounded like a freakin’ bong

“LEAVE ME ALONE!”, you demanded, but now you had like 6 assault rifles pointing at you , Fat Joey grabbing you and pulling backwards.

“ARAT!”, he screamed, like he was in a tantrum. You looked to your right and the same woman punched you in the face with the butt of a gun. This time, you didn’t lose consciousness, but fuck it hurt, she and Joey grabbed you and dragged you through the hallways

“Leave me alone!”, you demanded.

She opened a door and they threw you in there like you were a sack of potatoes, and closed the door behind them. This was some sort of broom closet, no windows, only one door, 2x2mtrs.

Oh now you were truly fucked.

Someone came pounding on the door.

“YOU ARE GOING TO TELL ME WHERE THE FUCK YOUR COMMUNITY IS! OR YOU ARE GOING TO JOIN US, OR YOU ARE NEVER GOING TO SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY AGAIN!”, that guy screamed into the door

“FUCK YOU!”, you screamed, “Why don’t you open the door so I can ring your bell a couple of more times, uh!? [YOU MELANCHOLIC CLOWN]!”, you let out a string of ugly curses in your native language, as you tried to kick the door down.

Simon heard you from the outside of the door, so enraged he wanted to strangle you

“She is just a child, having a tantrum”, said Gavin, who had witnessed the whole thing, “the best thing you can do, is… let her scream her rage out of her, in a couple of hours, she will be exhausted, ready for a bit more of… convincing”, he said, and left the scene, already stressed and bored of it.

Oh gods, you started to panic, quickly, telling him where Alexandria is was out of the question, and you started to wonder if Daryl had already knew you were gone, and what he would do… in some other lights you wonder if they were going to come looking for you, and a part of you, a big part, wished they didn’t, because they were never gonna be able to do it without losing people, oh gods, where they even going to know where to look?

Carol saw everything went down, was she going to tell Daryl? Yeah, I mean she didn't like you but she didn’t want you ��dead’, right?. Oh gods what was Daryl going to do? you hoped he didn’t “lose it” much.

Oh Daryl

What if you never see him again?

You didn’t want this to be the way your story was going to end, you wanted to see him again, see where your story goes, you loved him, you pictured a future, in this crappy world where every new day you got to walk the earth was a mix between luck, skill and fate or something like that. Even then, you imagined a future with him. it involved a nice small house, with a single open space for living room, dining room and kitchen, and one room, maybe two, you imagined you’d have a dog, even though you were more of a cat person, and… big windows, and a big garage where Daryl can work on his bike and…

A single tear rolled down your cheek

Oh gods you were scared

Sometimes, even though you didn’t admit it to yourself… in the corner of your imaginary room you’d put a little crib, although you could never picture anything beyond that, it was silly… you had been together together for merely weeks… but since the very first moment you saw him, that night where your lives were endangered… you were done for, an unbreakable bond was formed between you two.

He was the one for you

Two days ago you were having baby-making sex and now… you were hold hostage by a freakin’ cult

After testing all the possibilities of getting out, that being through the only door, and failing miserably, you had dropped, tired, hungry… and angrier…

But eventually as the hours passed, your anger passed, and left you literally cold in there, the sweat in your skin that had gathered there because of your efforts cooled you in a negative way, and now you were shaking on the floor

And those bastards left you there for the rest of what you guessed… was a day.

You still got a bit of light from around the frame of the door and a dirty little window that wouldn’t allow you to see the exterior, but eventually that shut down as well… that’s how you know it was “night”, you could say that you weren’t afraid of the dark, you had grown accustomed to the monsters that hid in it, but this dark… This empty darkness was something else entirely.

Eventually you fell asleep

You were woken up by the door opening, and because of the fear that enveloped you, you remembered the knives you had hidden in your boots, you could still feel them, so you stood still.

Fat Joey came in the door, he had a paper plate with a “sandwich on it”, he offered it to you, and only because of the smell you knew exactly what it was… You only looked at his entertained face with a frown.

“Wow!”, said Simon, when he saw Fat Joey entering the meeting room, “what the hell happened to you?”, he laughed, as he had a footprint occupying the half of his face, because of the kick you had happily given him.

“Our guest did not liked her breakfast”, he said

“Is that so?”, he asked, with a mix of entertainment and rage

“When is Negan coming back?”, asked Gavin

“I’m Negan”, said Simon, his counterpart just rolled his eyes.

“The real one”

“He is playing his game, he will come, soon”, he looked at Arat, “it’s time we start our own games”

You were not making yourself any favors by punching every person that happened to enter your space, it wasn’t going to last, you were starving and you didn’t have much strength

So you were not prepared for when the next group of people came. It was the same woman A rat? Was he calling her a rat? Whatever, with another guy, you got a couple of good licks in, you didn’t kill them, or stabbed them of gravity, but you scratched them good, you managed to advance a couple of feet beyond your entrapment, and then, they pushed you back in.

The trio that came to “see you” next, were armed to the teeth, and they… beat you up

“Tell me where your camp is, bitch!”, and others were exchanged.

Now you were laying on the floor, your body hurt so much you couldn’t move it, and they had taken… most of your clothes, your boots, your jacket, your hoodie, leaving you with a plain loose t shirt and your pants. No boots, no socks

Then A-rat came back

“i didn’t want to do this”, oh but she stood back and watched, smiling, as they kicked your ass

“You are enjoying this”, they didn’t punch you in the face, they didn't want to ruin it for Negan they said.

“Yeah I gotta say… I enjoy seeing how they beat up a stuck up bitch”, you chuckled humorlessly, “tell me where your stuck up camp is”, she said.

“I can tell you were to fuck off to”, you offered, and you could tell she was keeping herself from beating you up some more.

“Tell me where it is, so you can go back to it”, she said, “we’ll leave you alone”

“If you want to go all the way to Atlanta to a run down camp, be my guest”, you muttered. “I’ve been alone since then, months”, you muttered, “I thought DC was the answer”, you whispered

“I don’t believe you”, she said, “you look, well… looked all fancy and clean”, she said through gritted teeth

“It’s not my fault I can put 2 and 2 together and raid a house properly”

“Well then”, she said simply, “Let’s say I believe you, then join us”

“So far I’m not very convinced about my welcome package”, you mumbled, “what the fuck do I have to do for you to release me, dammit! I didn’t do anything to you”, you said angrily.

“Ah there it is”, she said with a sick smile, “I’ll leave you another day so you can think about what’s been offered to you”, you only grunted as she left you in the darkness again.

And the next time they left you a bottle of water and a dog food sandwich

You ate it

You don’t remember when you woke up, you don’t remember when you started crying, you don’t remember when you started to lose it.

You had tried to keep it together but you couldn’t, your body was in pain, and your mind was gripped tightly by fear

But you had eaten a sandwich and slept a lot, and drank water, so the next time they came, you wore a smile on your face and a “fuck you” in your eyes.

“There she is, miss stuck up bitch”, she said

“Oh, a rat”, you said back

“think about what you are going to answer me?”, she said

“There is something you can answer me”, you said, because if you were not going to give them Alexandria, you could give them something else, “that Toyota Tacoma, with the M2 on the back, where did you get it?”, you asked, she seemed surprised by your question, but then she hid that

“I don’t answer SHIT to you”, you said, but could barely hide her excitement

“How boring”, you muttered, she grabbed you by your face then

“Answer me”, she said, “where’s your people? I bet they are all fancy, like you”, you chuckled

“You have no idea”, you said, she released you, making you hit your head against the cement wall, “where’s Negan?”, you asked, “I gotta say, I’m curious”

“I’m the one asking the questions”, she said

“Watch me, where did you get the Tacoma?”, you asked her again

“Shut up!”, she said, she raised from the floor, and left you without another word.

If you had to guess, they gave you a sandwich a day, so they gave you two more, and a pill you identified as paracetamol for the pain. So three days or so since they took you.

On the fourth day, the door opened again, and when you looked up, you managed to exhale all the air in your lungs.

“You”, you mumbled.

“Hell on earth, it’s you”, he said with a grave voice, and a dumb smirk on his face

“Son of a bitch”, you cursed

“It’s you alright”, he laughed, “I came all the way from my outpost once I heard”

“These bastards don’t know who I am”, you said

“Oh but you asked about our truck”, he said. You exchanged looks, he was amused, you were fucking angry, this rapacious rat bastard

“You left Pope”, you accused, after a while, “you abandoned him”

“Really? haven’t seen each other in over a year and your first thing you recriminate me for is that big whiny bastard?”, he chuckled,

“The only whiny bastard in the squad was you”, you said, looking up at him, he really hadn't change a thing, “found him turned in the bathroom”, you said

“Wasn’t even strong enough to end himself”, he said, you frowned

“Why’d you leave him?”, you asked. You never rehearsed what you were gonna say when you met him again, because never in a thousand years you’d thought you’d see him again

“You know? I don’t feel like answering your shitty questions right now”, he said mockingly, “but you can answer mine”

“Same shit different flies then”, you mumbled

“Where’s your group?”, he asked

“Where’s your balls?”, you asked him back with a smile, “I have been alone since we split”, you said, "I walked all the way here…”

“I don’t believe you”, he said, crouching until he was on your height, “you always needed a big man to protect you, since day one”

“Fuck you”, you said back, “why did you left Pope?”, you asked him

“Where’s your people?”

“WHY DID YOU LEFT POPE?”, you asked him back, he laughed. You breathed heavily, even if it pained you, your ribs were bruised

“Wherever they are…”, he said, “whoever they are…”, he kept going, “they cannot take us down, rather they work for us or we kill them, that’s how it works”, he said

“Yep, this group sounds like your speed”, you said, “you ever only cared about yourself”, he only laughed at you

“Look around, at the end of the day, there’s only yourself to live for…”

“I feel sorry for you”, you accused, he looked down at you and laughed

“You are so predictable”, he said, “you can’t be alone, that’s why, you have a camp filled with people don’t you?”, he was mocking you now, “i bet you are a family…”, he said with a mocking voice, pouting at the end

“No”, you said back, looking straight at him

“You are gonna like being a savior then”, he said, with a smile, “I always saw the excited look on your face when you took fuckers hundreads at a time”, he said, “it gets you off”. he said smiling, “you can do it here… with better machinery, oh, we have all the toys”, he said

“You are never going to believe that I’m alone”, you said, “so what, i’m supposed to join you?”

“Oh well, Negan is going to be thrilled with you”, he said, “I know he will, he will have you on your knees”

“Riddle me this, who out of the both of us needs a man to protect him then?”, you asked him, wiping his smirk off of his face, “it seems to me that the only one who’s gonna be kneeling here is you”, you laughed. He grabbed you by the neck.

“You'll join us or you will fucking die”, he said, he raised you from the ground, having you grabbed by the neck. “You abandoned our group”, he said, as he dragged you out of your cell, “you never get married to anyone, or anything, do you? always with scaping plans in your mind? well, not this time”

“Fuck you!”, you cursed, he dragged you back to the main floor, everybody was gathered around a huge oven, you didn't even know what it was called. Even the wives of Negan were there, they loved a show , didn't they?

This wasn’t about your community anymore. These were sadist sons of bitches, and they wanted to dominate you and communities alike.

The rat was waiting for you, with a sickening smile on her face. Baer put you on a chair in front of the oven, the heat making your skin prickle.

“This is happening because this woman doesn’t want to tell us where her people are, so we can save them!”, said that creepy guy, “she abandoned our beloved Baer in Atlanta, and… well, she beat Fat Joey, Nick, Arat and MIckey up and we just cannot allow that!”, you laughed when you saw the bruise you left on his face, this was just bananas.

Arat came for you and grabbed you by the back of your head.

“You think you're better than us?”, she asked, clawing at you, her nails digging on your skin, your scalp was burning at this point

“Oh I know I am”, you spitted out

“Let’s see about that”, she said, the hate, the disdain in her voice, a week ago you had never seen this woman in your entire life. You had never done anything to her, “thinking yourself too good to be a wife of our leader? our savior?”

“Oh this IS a cult”, you groaned

“... or being a soldier?”

“Fuck you!”, you said quickly, she pulled your head backwards making you grunt in desperation, “I’m not a soldier, I’m a friend, a sister, a daughter, a fucking designer”, you said, “...I’m a lover, I’m a fucking survivor”, you winked at her. Baer appeared in your sights again, he came to her, with a sick smile on his face and a hot iron on his hands

You squirmed, moved desperately trying to release yourself. It was a brand, you could see two letters shining bright orange because of the temperature

“No, no, no”, you grunted, but another set of hands came to grab you and keep you still, “NO! NO!”, you screamed at the top of your lungs as Arat uncovered your left arm, she grabbed your hand and pulled, making you show her your forearm, “I swear I’ll fucking put my ax trough your fucking skull”, you threatened, “of all of you!”

“For you to never forget who you belong to”, and she pressed the hot Iron into your skin.

You had never felt a pain as strong as this one, she burned you with a fucking brand like you would cattle.

Your scream of pain resounded all over the factory.

They dropped you back in that cell, you were so exhausted, your body so traumatized that you felt like it had numbed itself not to feel anymore.

And while you were laying there, you looked at your arm, where two initials were now branded on your skin

PCN: Thing 1 and Thing 2 hahaha I want to let you know that everything that Simon said, was suposed to be Negan, I had written this before anything else on this story... SO, it was going to be Negan but I played it both ways with having him infiltrate Alexandria, so it had to be Simon, funny enough... didn't feel the need to change anything... he wants to be Negan so bad its sad

@crazyunsexycool @capricxnt

#misguidedcats #the walking dead #twd #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #daryl x reader #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon imagine

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spreadwardiard · 1 year

Text

More than Affection

Death had a single mission in the living realm: to find a Champion worthy of bearing the Matrix of Leadership so that they may restore the proper balance of their world. He did not understand mortals, nor their emotions, despite how much he cared for them, and so was left awed and confused when his spark began to react unusually to the one he had chosen as his champion.

Based off my friend @lets-try-some-writing's fantastic AU: Death's Embrace: Part 1 and Part 2. Please read these first as they give so much context to what is going on in this AU.

Orion Pax, the Thirteenth Prime, the walker of the void between the living and the dead, the ferry of sparks to their Father's loving embrace, the manifestation of all that death was, was a wise mech in many ways, but there were so many things about the children of Primus he had yet to understand. Just when he thought he had it all figured out, that he understood the living children as well as he needed to; his chosen champion of change flipped his understanding entirely on its helm. He had missed the exact moment that Megatronus of Kaon ceased to find him unnerving, but he had not missed when his champion's affections turned to something… foreign and unidentifiable.

This new feeling that radiated from Megatronus’ very spark whenever he was near came upon him without warning one evening when he had come to the Champion with notice of an imminent raid. He had, in his usual fashion, emerged from the void in the shadows behind the champion, who had been hunched over his desk, composing what Orion assumed was his next speech. Orion had thought nothing of it when he leaned over with his palm braced upon Megatronus’s shoulder and whispered in his audial, “Prepare yourself, my Champion. The enemies of our order have come to destroy us. Their wrath knows no bounds, and carried by command, they shall have no mercy. Flee while you can champion, take your followers, for they are coming."

Megatronus had not reacted the way he had expected him to at the news. His chosen Champion was prone to act with haste and righteous fury, yet the emotions that came from his spark were unknown to the walker of the voids. Affection, he understood, and there was a strong undercurrent of that familiar emotion underneath this strange feeling that Megatronus was refusing to allow through his EMs. Another oddity, Megatronus was not one to shield others from the truths of his emotions unless it somehow benefited him to do so, and Orion could think of no benefit to obscuring any form of affection for one’s companions.

Megatronus had then asked him a question he had never asked before; “When will I see you again?”

Megatronus had acted so entirely out of character throughout the encounter that Orion almost feared something catastrophic had already happened. There had been a strange melancholy tinting that question that he could not quite interpret, but knew that it was directed towards himself. It made no sense to him why, when Megatronus’ main concern should have been to alert Soundwave of this new information and flee.

His chosen champion’s odd behaviors around him only seemed to increase from that point forward. Those who had taken heed of his warning and fled alongside the Champion had sought refuge deep in the abandoned mines of Kaon, where no light from the nearest star could reach. He had paused after he had stepped from the void. Lingering in the shadows, he observed the forlorn look upon Megatronus’ face and a strange, twisting unease in his spark that he covered with a veil of false confidence.

Glancing around all the bots collected in this shaft, Orion could not understand why. Everyone of note had been present, and even many of those Orion had yet to acquaint himself with were there. Soundwave had been at ease with the situation, and none of the others appeared to be nearly as concerned as their leader. It was… odd…

What was even odder was how Megatronus had responded to him when he finally stepped out of the shadows to stand at his side. Instead of his usual greeting, Megatronus had taken him by the wrists and examined his frame as if he were expecting him to be damaged, and only after he was satisfied that Orion was perfectly intact did that strange unease in him die down, to be replaced by such a strong wave of relief that it had stunned the walker of the void.

His chosen champion had never examined him in such a manner before, nor had he ever embraced him in the manner he had afterwards. He had been pulled flush against the champion and held tightly against his warm chassis. Megatronus had held him there until his relief shifted into that same, mysterious emotion from before, only this time, a bit more open in its presentation. Megatronus did not seek to hide nearly as much of this strange… ‘more-than-affection’ feeling from him as he had their previous encounter.

Orion did not understand any of it, but the warmth he experienced while being embraced lingered far longer than he had expected it to, and he found himself often recalling how pleasant it had felt to be enveloped in his Champion’s arms. However, Megatronus did not embrace him upon his next visit, and Orion had been disappointed in that fact, though he did not recognize his disappointment until he had returned to the void, feeling colder than normal.

The odd behaviors and feelings continued. It became quite common for the Champion of Kaon to rest his servo upon Orion’s shoulder; a gesture that Orion reciprocated eagerly, often accompanied by a gentle smile or curious tilt of his helm. Though foreign to him, the progression of his champion’s strange, shifting affections felt natural and satisfying in a way he could not describe.

It did not feel especially strange when Megatronus took his servo for the first time, one evening, as they sat together in the dark, speaking of nothing of consequence; though it was strange to him why Megatronus had been so nervous before he had done so. But his champion had eased as soon as Orion had shifted his digits, to allow them to intertwine with those of his champion. Megatronus had held his servo until Orion had felt drawn to return to the void, where he swore the warmth of Megatronus’ touch had lingered even as he ushered the latest wave of Primus’ children back to his loving embrace.

For reasons he did not entirely understand, he had found himself visiting his champion more frequently, and staying late into the recharge cycle. Some cycles, they discussed their revolution and their various plans regarding their upcoming moves. Such conversations were not especially noteworthy.

But there was one night that Orion still could not shake out of his helm; where Megatronus had looked directly into his optics and recited a piece of poetry about a captivating Archivist from Iacon, who’s optics were so enchanting that he wished he could peer into them forever and who’s derma he’s dreamed of feeling against his own. It was the most emotionally raw and vulnerable he had ever seen the champion, or anyone for that matter, at least in person, and it had left him forgetting to vent entirely until Megatronus had finished the piece. By the time he had remembered he needed to vent to appear living, something strange was churning in his own spark, bubbling up along with his already present affections in a confusing jumble of feelings he did not comprehend. He had been rendered speechless by the poem, and had resorted to reaching out to take Megatronus’ servo into his own and squeezing it tightly to show his approval.

It was not long after that, that Megatronus had begun to sense his presence, even before he materialized from the void. He was uncertain by which mechanism Megatronus employed to detect him, but it became noteworthy when he arrived one evening to find the champion and his most trusted mechs seated around a table, upon which was a map, discussing their upcoming plans. Orion heard the voice of his champion even before he had begun to materialize his frame in the shadows.

“You need to move.” Megatronus had interrupted whoever was speaking with a firm order, and the room had gone eerily silent at the sudden shift in tone.

“What? Why?” The confusion had been as evident in the mech’s voice as his disappointment had been. Clearly he had been excited to have a seat beside the Champion of Kaon.

“That seat is taken. Get up, or I’ll make you get up.” It had been that moment that Orion had stepped out of the shadows and every set of optics in the room rested upon him. He had regarded them all curiously, unsure of what exactly it was he had been sensing from them as he had silently made his way to Megatronus’ side. It had been then that Megatronus had shoved the mech beside him forcefully from his seat and offered it to Orion.

When he took the mech’s place at Megatronus’ right, his Champion saw fit to lace together their digits, and place their joined servos on the table for all to see. Orion saw no reason to withdraw, and so had simply enjoyed the warmth seeping in from his champion’s palm and the strange sensations that very warmth sent to his spark. It mattered little to him that so many stared at them in silent recognition of some unspoken declaration that only Orion seemed unaware of. Megatronus had flawlessly picked up the conversation where he had interrupted it as the mech he had removed from his side took a seat at the opposite end of the table.

Truthfully, Orion could not recall any of the specific details of that particular meeting. He had been too focused on trying to interpret the jumbled emotions welling up in his spark, that same “more-than-affection” that he sensed from his champion, though he still could not decipher the meaning of it. He knew that he found the sensations agreeable, pleasurable, even, and he knew that he wished to seek out more of this strange feeling that he could not call by name that only Megatronus seemed capable of making him feel.

When Megatronus first placed his servo upon his waist, the warmth that radiated from his touch had seeped so deeply into him that his very spark could feel its comfort; and when his champion tugged him gently against his side, Orion eagerly leaned into the warmth that spilled into him at each point their frames touched.

None of it made sense to him; the feelings, the newfound desire for warmth, the strange behaviors that had now become anticipated and comforting... He enjoyed when Megatronus touched him, though he did not know why it felt so different from the touch of any other mech. He found himself, somewhere along the way, almost craving the warmth that Megatronus provided him with his touches, and actively began seeking it out, sometimes even finding himself tucked against the champion’s side before being prompted.

Megatronus stopped attempting to hide this strange feeling with his EMs entirely after Orion had materialized at the foot of his berth late one recharge cycle after leading home the latest batch of sparks, waking the champion with just a single request on his glossa. “I wish to bask in the warmth of my champion’s embrace.”

Megatronus wordlessly invited him into his berth by lifting his arm and once Orion had climbed in beside him, he was pulled snugly to the champion's chassis, held firm, back struts flush against the champion's frame where the most wonderful warmth emanating from Megatronus seeped into him, soothing in him discomforts he had not even been aware he had felt at all. Megatronus’ mighty arm held him firmly in place, and similarly, Orion’s grip on his champion's servo, where he had intertwined their digits, only further served to anchor the two of them together.

Orion spent many recharge cycles lying in the champion’s berth, secure in a warm embrace. It gave him joors upon joors to think and attempt to dissect the strange ways that Megatronus had affected him since he had detected that shift in the champion’s emotions. Never before had he been content to simply lie in place when there were so many things he should be observing and tending to with his free time. But this new emotion in his spark grew heavy and manifested as a persistent desire that gnawed at him to return to the comfort of his champion’s side the longer he stayed away, and he had found that these periods of rest somehow eased that strange… almost pain he came to expect from separation.

And when they were together… It mattered not whether they were lying in berth or standing side by side, Orion found his artificial venting matching that of his champion’s vent for vent, and it was becoming more and more common for the entire universe to melt away in his awareness when the champion addressed him, and when Megatronus drew him close and looked into his optics his spark would pulse so strongly that he feared it would break free of the frame he had constructed around himself. He would have been frightened by the intensity of the feeling had he not been aware that his champion felt exactly the same way, and was not concerned.

For all the eons that he had walked the void, he had never felt anything remotely close to this. It was unfathomable to him. He could pick out individual aspects of this larger emotion; such as affection, anticipation, fondness, security and excitement; however these were only small facets of the massive new emotion that had taken root in his spark. When he tried to analyze them all together it simply became a too large and confusing to comprehend, especially if he attempted to factor in how not just his own behaviors had been altered so drastically due to this emotion, but his champion’s as well

He understood that Megatronus had become important to him, more so than any other who walked the living realm, but it had nothing to do with the quest he had sent his champion on and everything to do with how the champion made him feel. Like he was… wanted; like his presence was enjoyed. Something he had never cared about before.

His last encounter with Megatronus had resulted in the most tempestuous reaction in his spark yet. The bulk of the visit was relatively unnoteworthy. Mechs were packing up their camp in the mine shaft to relocate to a safe house in Tarn. Once again, Megatronus covered his anxieties with false confidence as he directed his flock and collected his own belongings. Orion assisted him in packing and when he had felt the call to return to the void, Megatronus stopped him from stepping into the shadows with a quick, desperate grasp to his wrist.

Megatronus pulled Orion gently back towards him and drew him into a tender embrace. Orion leaned into the warmth provided by his champion, his optics shuddering offline almost on instinct as he rested helm upon his shoulder, his face nuzzled into the crook of Megatronus’ neck, content to feel his claws drawing soothing circles on the plating of his lower back. He could spare a few more kliks….

He was just about to regretfully pull away from the embrace when he felt Megatronus lightly touch the side of his digit to his chin, in a gentle, unspoken, request. He allowed Megatronus to guide his helm, and when their optics met, Orion’s spark twisted in a strange anticipation at the look he was receiving. His champion looked… nervous, unsure, like he wanted to say something, but underneath it, he felt a strange yearning emanating from the him that Orion couldn’t interpret. Megatronus’ shifted his touch, from Orion’s chin to cup the side of his helm and Orion instinctively nuzzled into the warmth of his champion’s palm and let his optics fall closed as that confusing, yet pleasant jumble of emotions swirled around in his spark.

And then, without warning, time entirely stopped as he felt Megatronus’ hesitantly press together their derma. He froze stiff as that feeling in his spark suddenly detonated with what felt like the power of a super nova. It surged through him like lightning, and each gentle movement of his champion’s warm derma against his own only sent more fuel to power the fire burning in his spark. It was nearly overwhelming. He didn’t know what to do, how to respond, or what he was feeling. The only thing even remotely comparable had been the overwhelming understanding that had struck him when his purpose had become known to him. Only this… this was new, it was wonderful; exciting! He’d never felt so…. Alive. He wished it would never end.

Megatronus pulled away suddenly his field felt off, and instantly Orion felt nearly frantic as awareness snapped back into place abruptly. His servos shot up with urgency and caught the champion by his helm to keep him from retreating any further. It was too soon. He wasn’t ready for it to be over, and Megatronus was upset by something he must have done incorrectly. When Megatronus’ confusion seeped into his field atop the dejection he was trying to cover up, Orion gently guided his champion back to him, where he clumsily pressed their derma together once more.

As if he had flipped a switch, his champion surged with confidence as he crushed Orion tightly to his frame, and Orion’s spark soared. The first kiss had been a gentle, almost innocent brushing of derma, but the second… Megatronus kissed him as if he were starving; hot and passionate, with dentae and glossa. Orion did his best to keep up, tried to mimic and match Megatronus’ technique but he could barely focus over the way his champion had him entirely enveloped in his field, drowning him in the intensity of their combined sentiments. Megatronus seemed to care little that Orion was inexperienced and clumsy, merely chuckling when Orion accidentally clanged their dentae together. He simply had taken charge and kissed Orion until his processors were nearly scrambled with how fiercely it had his spark pulsing with that emotion he could not name.

When Megatronus pulled away the second time, he was venting heavily, as if he had just come from battle. He pressed the crests of their helms together gently and this time, Orion was at peace with their separation, his spark thrumming with contentment at their closeness.

“Orion… I-” But the champion cut himself off, though Orion did not know why. It caused him to tilt his helm, in curiosity, as he could tell that whatever Megatronus had wanted to say was of great importance to him. But he had simply smiled, in a melancholy sort of way as he loosened his grip, allowing Orion the space to pull away from him, if he chose to do so. and asked, in a forlorn tone, “When will I see you again?”

Orion finally understood that Megatronus must have suffered that same… almost painful sensation that he did when they were separated; the one that gnawed at him with memories of warmth and touch and that… feeling in his spark that made him ache to return to his side. He let one of his servos fall from his champion’s helm, to lace together their digits, in the manner he had grown to find comforting. “I shall return to your side once I have restored those lost and wandering to their eternal sanctum of rest.”

Megatronus’ seemed to find reassurance in his answer, and he smiled, the lazy one that Orion usually only saw when they were lying in berth, and Megatronus just a groon or so from falling into recharge. “How is it that you always know where to find me, my archivist?”

Orion had smiled at the question and tightened his grip on the champion’s servo as he spoke his response; “The void is but a veil upon which you are always visible to me, my Champion. There is nowhere in the vastness of all that exists you could hide where I could not find you.”

Orion left soon after, with another gentle kiss from his champion graced upon his derma just before the void and strengthened its call to him. Though he noted with some concern that he… did not want to. He wanted to stay with Megatronus, to convince the champion to put off his relocation efforts for just one more cycle, so that they could hold each other in berth and kiss until Megatronus was forced into recharge.

The void felt colder than it had during his last retreat, though he knew that that was an impossibility. Something had changed in him to make it feel this way. He did not know if it was something he should be concerned with or not. At its worst, it seemed a mild side effect of… what that kiss had done to him.

Orion knew, theoretically, what a kiss was, but he did not fully understand what they meant. He knew it was something mortals engaged in with those they felt a great deal of affection for, but he did not understand exactly what had changed between Megatronus and himself to suddenly warrant such an act. They had been feeling these emotions for nearly a vorn now. Something had to have changed. Right?

Somewhere along the way, a great many things had changed, including himself. He was feeling things he knew he was not programmed to feel, even if he could not name those feelings. He knew that now, suddenly, a living being was more important to him than the rest, though he still did not know why. And suddenly he found himself understanding those sparks that lingered near to those they were close to in life, for when he now came to the void, he longed for the warmth of the one he had left behind as well.

He found that this newfound understanding helped him to ease some of the Precious sparks back to Primus’ embrace with greater ease, though he was not certain what exactly he was doing differently. He sometimes wished he could seek their wisdom as he guided them along the path home, for he knew what he felt was experienced by the living, and perhaps they would be able to at lease identify for him what he was experiencing. But such a thing was not possible. The living, once passed into the void, could not speak.

He was left with more questions than answers by the time he sensed none left who needed to be guided, and he felt so much colder than he remembered being. The warmth he had soaked up from Megatronus was just a memory, and he felt that strange almost pain biting at him to return to the champion, as he had said he would, once his duties were seen to. But these questions needed to be answered. He needed to know what was happening to him, what strange, mortal influence had taken refuge in his spark.

He could not ask his brother. Alpha Trion was unlikely to understand and certain to pass judgements upon him for engaging so deeply with Primus’ children. It felt… wrong to ask Megatronus directly, even though logically he knew Megatronus would likely have the answer. He did not even know where to begin to search the archives for the information he sought.

There was one mech, however, that had made it a point to teach Orion more and more about how to appear… ‘normal’ and alive. The first mortal that had paid him any attention at all. He would go to Ratchet for the answers he sought. If anyone would be able to explain to him what this feeling was, it would be him.

#maccadam #transformers prime au #transformers #megop #megaop #orion x megatronus #spreadwardiardfics #deaths embrace au #the thirteenth prime #orion pax #megatronus #transformers prime #megatron #tfp megaop #tfp #orion pax is death and does not understand what he feels

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cultofdixon · 2 years

Text

All Fun and Games…

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • It’s a tight fit sticking everybody going on the run in a single vehicle. But they made it work. Even when a certain someone got stuck sitting on the lap of the resident archer. Doing his best to keep his hands to himself • SFW/NSFW - Grinding

Requested by: Anon

“Think it will be safer if we took the wagon on this run. We are just getting what we can for the infirmary and the kids” Aaron informs Daryl on the way to the front of Alexandria. “Judith is sick so Rick ain’t coming with us anymore. Hope you don’t mind Y/N”

“It was already a tight fit with Rick, at least Y/N can sit on somebody” Glenn chimes in, the group was Aaron, Eric, Glenn, Maggie, Daryl and Rick. Maggie was already going to have to sit on Glenn if Rick was going, but given he’s been replaced with Y/N. She can sit in the middle of Glenn and Daryl while she sits on Daryl. Wait a minute.

“Can’t your woman sit on yea for the trip?”

“Maggie does what she wants man. The middle seat isn’t even enough room for her. She’s already sitting on me”

Aaron gave his partner a quick awkward glance only for Eric to laugh a bit. Making the heat rise to both Glenn and Daryl’s faces.

“It’ll be fine, and if it gets unbearable…we’ll put Glenn or Daryl in the trunk with whatever we find” Eric finally adds as Aaron nods in agreement leaving the two even more dumbfounded.

“Tight fit” Y/N laughs nervously after being told she’s sitting in the back with Glenn, Maggie, and Daryl. Already putting it together where she’s sitting.

“It’ll be fine. Keep your backpack in your lap or in the small middle with Daryl’s crossbow” Maggie reassures climbing in once Glenn got situated.

Once everyone was sort of situated in the car, Aaron started to head off once Abraham opened the gate for them with Spencer’s help. Glenn comfortably held Maggie close holding her around her middle and resting his head on her back. Keeping her close, holding her like a seat belt.

Meanwhile Daryl couldn’t stop registering every bump Aaron has hit with his car and the sudden movement of Y/N’s butt against his crotch. He turned his head toward the window best to avoid eye contact of any kind from everyone else in the car.

“Sorry if it’s bumpy guys. Yknow given the whole end of the world…nobody can pave the roads” Aaron tried to lighten the awkward silence when it was simply Maggie and Glenn vibing on one side and Daryl fighting really hard not to get a hard on while Y/N either readjusts or every bump in the road.

“And the mutilated walker limbs” Eric adds checking the map once more.

As the ride continues, Y/N started to notice much more than Daryl’s squirming. She felt the heat rise to the tip of her ears for a second, making her move her hair to cover them up. But the way he tried to collect himself beneath her and failing given to the obvious erection straining his pants and rubbing up against her bottom. The next bump that came and obviously made her readjust, Y/N took the risk and rubbed up against him feeling him snake his arm around her middle tightening around her while his other hand gripped the handle on the door.

“What’re doing…” Daryl whispers close to her ear making a shiver run down her spine.

“Getting comfortable” Y/N says softly enough for just him to hear as he sighs, shortly biting his lip to contain the noise that could’ve rumbled from his throat when she grind slightly causing her to rub her legs together.

This is having about the same affect on him as it’s doing her. Who knows how much longer they can last? Let alone not be noticed.

Y/N secured her pack to cover her lap continuing to rut up against Daryl every now and then while he’s threatening to break the door handle as his other hand gripped onto her shirt. The hitch in his breath caught Maggie’s attention for a second making Y/N stop causing Daryl to groan in relief.

“Are we fuckin’ there yet?”

Glenn couldn’t help the laugh to escape him hearing that coming from Daryl. “You just miss your bike”

“Wouldn’t be so fuckin’ cramped…can’t feel my legs”

“Calling me fat Dixon?” Y/N teases with a bit of venom in her tone as Daryl pressed his face in between her shoulder blades groaning once again.

“We’re almost there, kids” Eric laughs making his partner chuckle a little. “‘Sides, you can look for parts for the bike we got taking up so much fucking space in our garage”

“Thought I could build it myself. Clearly I cannot” Aaron adds one last thing knowing damn well Eric is rolling his eyes beside him.

The ride felt like it was taking ages and Daryl was about to have enough of Y/N’s constant moving. She’s doing this on purpose was all he thought as he continued to hide his face in her back feeling her lean forward suddenly. Oh he’s getting caught His breathing hitched making him look back toward the street avoiding Maggie and Glenn looking when both of them had fallen asleep leaning into one another so they weren’t looking any time soon. Y/N purposely leaned forward to look at Eric’s map, but also roll her hips against Daryl’s full mass erection rubbing up against his zipper.

As Y/N leans back ignoring the annoyed grunt that escaped Daryl’s throat. She felt a wave of confidence rise in her as she secured her pack on her lap once again covering everything so that she could move the hand gripping her middle to the edge of her waist band. Daryl took this as an opportunity to do something but he’s have to be extra careful when returning the amount of teasing Y/N has been giving since he was given the okay. But right as Daryl was maneuvering his fingers into her waistband when the car suddenly jolted to a stop in a small town.

“Shit”

“Gas?”

“Yeah. Gotta go siphon some, but might as well look around here” and before Aaron even got out, Daryl dropped out of the car after sliding out from underneath Y/N leaving her with a bit of a confused look. But the confusion didn’t last when Daryl took her bicep and pulled her out. “Guess they’ll get a head start”

“I’ll wait for Maggie and Glenn to wake up. You be careful” Eric adds as he watches Daryl stand outside the car for a bit with Y/N blocking his front before watching him follow after her. “Weird asses”

Y/N was covering him so that he could readjust but that didn’t matter when Daryl followed her into an old automotive garage. Seeing her waiting for him to say something about the antics in the car.

“Think yer cute for what you pulled?”

“I’m not the one that got hard in the first place…did get a little excited though” Y/N blushes to her own confession feeling her back press against the wall when Daryl inches closer.

“You have no idea what you do to me, Y/N”

“Well…enlighten me then, Daryl” and without a second thought, Daryl instantly pulls her into him crashing his lips firmly against hers. Y/N couldn’t hold in the excited noise that escaped her do to his suddenness.

He couldn’t contain his eagerness, pressing her up against the wall continuing to enjoy the softness of her lips against his. Being a bit hesitant with where to put his hands next but also with the fear of getting caught or interrupted by walkers. The tension didn’t go unnoticed as Y/N pulls back to catch her breath seeing the slight worry in his eyes making her move her hands to take his into hers.

“Sorry…If that was—-“

“Bad? I quite enjoyed it D…You felt off so I didn’t want to continue if I was making you uncomfortable”

“It ain’t you, frankly prefer more privacy than an open building” Daryl chuckles a bit to ease the tension in the air but the physical tension in his shoulders relaxed when Y/N brought her hands to rest on the back of his neck bringing his attention back onto her.

“We don’t have to do it here, see if you can last another drive back to Alexandria where we can be in my place…with no roommates, and a lock.” Y/N reassures and emphasized on the last part that caught his attention entirely bringing his arms around her to bring her flush against him.

“Think I can manage…if yea tease me again, I won’t be afraid to bite” Daryl whispers inching closer to her neck as he didn’t hesitate then to leave a few kisses to her soft skin, and bringing his lips to where her neck meets her shoulder to leave an open mouth kiss inevitably leaving a hickey in that place. Her sweet hums assured him she enjoyed what he just did. Leaving him to imagine what he’s going to do to her later with that knowledge. “But I think I’m gonna need another minute before we head back”

“Kiss me then Daryl”

Don’t have to tell me twice Daryl smirks returning his lips back onto hers being a little more passionate in the matter.

That time didn’t last long, the growling at first Y/N thought came from Daryl given they started to grind up against one another becoming impatient for the matter. She parts for a second to catch her breath feeling his lips latch onto her neck giving her a moment to see that the growling is from an approaching walker. Her mind was clearly elsewhere as was Daryl’s but she had a second to wrap her leg around his torso making him instantly push her more into the wall to secure her and also hold by her thigh.

“D—“

“I’ve gotcha sweetheart”

“I know just—-“ Y/N quickly leaned forward almost knocking them off balance when she grabbed the gun strapped to her ankle. Daryl flinched when her gun fired as he quickly pulls away after steadying her to see the walker. “Holy shit”

“Well. Maybe that’s our cue”

“At least it wasn’t Aaron”

“What wasn’t me?” Aaron asks approaching the garage when he heard his name seeing the two standing over the walker. “Are there anymore?”

“Nope” Y/N quickly replies stepping over the walker holstering her gun and giving Daryl a wink out of Aaron’s line of sight.

But the look Aaron gave Daryl made it obvious.

“Don’t even—-“

“You like her huh? Good! Because Eric and I were trying to find a way to hook the two of you up. Or whatever the term Eric used. Set them up? That sounds much better”

“…So. Was the Rick shit a lie?”

“Oh no Judith is sick, but nothing Michonne and Carl couldn’t handle. Rick was just in on it.”

“Glenn and Maggie?”

“Nah. They are here for the actual run through of getting things, but I also didn’t calculate how cramped the car would be so I made up the gas excuse for the four of you to stretch your legs. Even though the others didn’t step out immediately like you and Y/N.” Okay. Aaron is more innocent than anybody had thought. For the most part.

“Alright, let’s just get” Daryl was quick to wrap that conversation up as he was about to leave the garage when he quickly grabbed a part he needed for his bike before finally leaving the building.

As much as Aaron hated it, the roads were clear-ish of walkers so he took the risk of driving at night. Letting everybody sleep and making sure he was careful this time with the bumps along the way. Not that Daryl minded them the ride back, even if all he was doing in that moment was holding a sleeping Y/N close to his person and making sure she didn’t stir to anything.

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #honestly I was gonna do more smut but I just like the teasing for now #it’s been a while since I’ve written full on smut so I’m just. doing my best I guess #hope you enjoy it

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seneon · 1 year

Note

I'm so sorry i didn't know about this lmao >¬<

Can You please do a Abyss x reader oneshot ? (i don't know for an idea I'm really bad for idéa sorry T-T) but whatever You write i know it would be amazing <3

I really don't know what to say sorry ahah :')

featuring. abyss razor x fem! reader — oneshot.

genre. romance | fuedal japan! alternate universe.

synopsis. in which, abyss was sent on a mission to capture an infamous criminal but in reality, he saves her.

notes. 1.8k words | taken and edited from my oneshot book ANGELS in wattpad. this is originally a kamui (gintama) and rin oneshot. anyways, abyss is actually so pretty 😭😭

abyss razor roamed through the underground red light districts of yoshiwara — old tokyo, with the samurai lord he served under, abel walker.

they were oblivious to it, but women had their eyes on the fellow samurai.

the ladies whispered among themselves, wondering who these attractive young men were.

the samurai men had striking features, good height, their eyes, and overall, their serious demeanour. they wore fine clothing, showing everyone they work for the shogun, prominent and the best in their field.

a mission was what the two were on, in seacrh of a few criminals to murder. each samurai was given a different task, abel receiving the more brutal and heinous criminals and abyss receiving orders to search for intel.

but abyss never intended to search for intel upon stepping foot in this... all glorious district of endless entertainment.

it bore him to know that many samurai came here to have fun with women and drink their night away, immediately spotting a few rivals of his, drinking.

abyss' sole purpose of coming here was to find for a certain woman.

ah . . . a woman that held a great place in his organ called heart. never would abyss himself thought he would be looking forward in a search for her, a recently known villain.

"abyss, go west. i will search east. we return at six in the middle of four directions," abel said before vanishing in a flash, heading to the east for his mission.

the said male scanned the area and started to move his feet to collect as many information on you as he can.

there were oiran making their way to customers of prominence, dancers, sake, music and light all around the place. it was a place abyss wasn't very fond of, for he preferred silence and a time to solitary.

what he needed now was a change of clothes. citizens had their eyes on the samurai, growing weary of his idea of being in a red light district. so he went to the nearest shop to buy a cheap kimono to disguise himself.

abyss quickly picked up the clues that was given to him as a starter from the palace. now he has a lead, that you were a master in disguise, and there was a well-known brothel that recently recruited a skillful courtesan.

that brothel was the first place he went to as a normal customer looking for a service.

"greetings. may i ask for kitsuhime oiran?" he asked the receptionist, as the male shook his head.

"kitsuhime-sama is currently serving a customer, but our other courtesans are available for you, sir."

"it's alright. when will she be free? i'll pay you in gold for an audience with her."

the receptionist hesitated to answer the offer abyss gave him. it had not been the first time men had brought up gold for their best courtesan in their service.

"uh, she should be free in two days. if you could wait sir, we'll—"

"how does a hundred gold sound to you?"

"uhm... i'm not sure if that's how it works.."

"a hundred and fifty."

"sir.."

"excuse me, what is going on?" another male voice asked, standing beside abyss in hopes on lending a hand to the troubled.

the receptionist perked up in hope. "ah! haru-sama! this fellow customer wanted an audience with kitsuhime-sama, and he keeps raising the wage. i don't know what to do..."

the male whom the blue-haired male assumed was a high ranking staff in this brothel placed his fingers on his chin, thinking hardly. his dark red scanned from top to bottom, before letting out a sigh. "guess there's no choice. did you bring the goods?"

rin nodded, stashing a bag of gold onto the table. "when can i meet the courtesan?"

"right now. her schedule is empty, since her customer went out for a small errand," haru said as he quickly counted the gold. "one hundred fourty two, three... one fifty... deal. you have fifteen minutes at most. this way, sir."

the male with red eyes led abyss through the huge brothel and abyss wished he at least waxed his ears temporarily from the erotic sounds he kept hearing throughout the whole place.

he felt relieved when they ascended, the noises disappearing behind them. abyss believed they were heading to the highest and most off-limits floors, a high-class area.

haru stopped at the room right at the end of the floor, opening the door while stepping aside for the customer to head in. he walked in after abyss, shutting the door behind him.

abyss grew alert at the sound of the door shutting, his eyes looking around the room.

"kitsuhime-sama! you have an unexpected audience," haru said, abyss taking a glance behind to have his eyes widened in sheer shock.

he froze at the sight of haru slowly peeling himself off. only to reveal a completely different person underneath it.

abyss couldn't see who it was, for the male was peeling off the skin on his face. e/c eyes then flashed under the moonlight, fingers moving to remove the wig.

a chill ran down abyss' spine, like tiny spiders crawling down his skin. the moment it was revealed who was under it, he couldn't help but remembered old memories that seemed to get more prominent now that he sees a familiar face.

how long has it been since he saw that face? the same old smirk that he recognised since childhood, and the eyes that held so many dreams, only to be crushed right in front of him.

"care for a round of sake?" you asked, your smirk turning into a slight smile.

the razor was too stunned to speak at the sight of seeing you for the first time in all these years. you were a criminal now, working as a courtesan, and disguised as a man...?

everything was spinning around him. he didn't know what to do, so he simply nodded and sat down on the cushion laid out for customers and a courtesan to have a chat.

it was quiet, sentimental, as you carefully and gracefully poured japanese alcohol into both cups, handing one to abyss. he picked it up and drank it, still registering what had happened.

"why have you come here?" you asked, gaze on the samurai, "i thought you didn't like red light districts."

it was quiet again. you sipped on your alcohol, never taking your eyes off of the man you haven't seen for a long time.

he was as beautiful as you remember, a child connected to the moon in a way that it favours him. even if his eyes were eyepatched from a battle wound. abyss is even more beautiful now, his features chiseled and you could tell he had been doing some hard work.

"i'm on a mission. you are one of the shogun's targets."

"and you've became a shogun dog," you never let him finished. shutting your eyes while feeling the most ease, you sighed.

abyss felt his eyes twitched at your answer, but he kept his cool and set down the sake cup. "i became one to receive top notch training. to find you, and follow you until the ends of the earth."

it was your turn to be caught off-guard. it seems like he hadn't forget about the promise they made during childhood after all.

"as courtesan, may i have my valued customer's name?" you asked, wanting to hear him said it himself.

"abyss razor."

it ringed around your ears, inside your mind and down to the core of your memories. you knew who he was, yet hearing him said it himself was . . . different.

abyss!

a little girl, no more than the age of nine would call out for the boy who was staring at the black heavens that was filled with twinkling little life.

she would twirl around and capture abyss into a deadly hug, releasing to then plop herself beside him. wherein little abyss would be flushed red and continue his stargazing.

"hey abyss, when you grow up, what do you want to do or be?" she asked, and the little razor would soon fell deep into his thoughts.

"hmm... i want to be like abel-san! i want to be a cool man who's going to be a samurai and protect everyone i love. like mom and dad, abel-san... and you!" he gave her a goofy smile. "you?"

it was little y/n's turn to think for a while. and when she found the perfect answer, she returned the same childish grin he gave her. "i'll go with you anywhere!!"

lies.

she was taken away months after those words came out. oh how abyss fell into ultimate despair seeing her getting taken away by the shogun's officials. her eyes only held the look of fear, tears running down her cheeks.

"i'll be a strong samurai and protect you! then i'll follow you wherever you go! i promise, y/n!" abyss could only shout his little throat out, his older friend, abel, holding him back from any more harm the officials might inflict.

abyss couldn't defeat the people that took away his only friend. he was simply too weak, a mere child with the brightest dreams.

who knew the person he looked up to the most would also leave him to volunteer in a recruitment for new generation samurai?

everything was ruined, so much that abyss' mind became twisted and he too, would soon join the next recruitment to search for you. only to find that you are now a criminal.

your eyes stared at the table contents of a tea set. throat becoming dryer and dryer as seconds passed by. "i'm a murderer now. what are you going to do?" it turned intense and heavy around the atmosphere.

".. i don't care. you simply killed the men that tried assaulting you back in the palace right? that is nothing," he said coolly, pouring for the both of you another drink. "i plan to retire to make the shogun mad anyways."

"so, will you come with me?"

you chuckled at his words. things had certainly changed, abyss too, for he had grown way more mature than you are compared to your childhood days.

it all felt so nostalgic, to be speaking to the razor the same as you both did back then.

"i will."

a smile unconsciously crawled up to abyss' lips, portraying a beauty you hadn't seen in forever. such a work of art, indeed.

if the woman sitting in front of him knew what he was thinking about, you were definitely, most certainly the y/n that abyss was looking for.

there was no mistaking it. you were the light to his darkness. and even if you committed a crime or two, it was all for abyss and a promise.

you elegantly stood up, a habit picked up from the brothel owner that brought you in to keep your disguise.

"but first. i just want you to know this place is a disguise itself. everyone here has committed a crime before, even customers. it's my home."

"sounds like a you thing to do. now then, shall we abandon everything and head for a run? i don't want to be seen as a samurai any longer ," he stood up, holding a hand out.

you immediately accepted it with a smile, "we shall, abyss."

"perfect."

istg if anyone talks or mentions about raiden shogun or whoever tf she is, i will literally send you paragraphs to educate you that shogun doesn't only exist in genshin impact and it's actually history in japan 💀

#🎥 senreqs #mashle #mashle x reader #abyss #abyss razor #abyss x reader #abyss razor x reader #mashle hcs #abel walker #mashle abyss

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mieeaahhh · 3 months

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How I view all for the game characters but it’s just pictures! (Updated version + some useless head-cannons)

Renee Walker

-Andrew helps her whenever she re-dyes her hair

-transgender mtf 🗣️🗣️🗣️

-he has a few smaller tattoos other than the wings on her back but she got them in ‘hidden’ places

-is really bad at video games

-has a pet rabbit named Barney that lives back at home with her mum

Allison Reynolds

-has been collecting shoes since she was thirteen and has a matching pair for every single outfit she owns

-her love languages are gift giving and acts of service

-has a diary that she still uses from when she was eleven

-she has one of those ‘upside down smiles’ or whatever it’s called

-low-key had an emo phase but if you bring it up she’ll post your home address and card information on social media. How? A magician never reveals his secrets🙂‍↔️🙂‍↔️

Neil Josten

-desperately needs braces but couldn’t care less about getting them so his teeth are messed up

-can do that frog blinking thing

-can cook and is actually really good at it but doesn’t enjoy it

-he would’ve been a chronic scooter kid if he grew up like a normal person

-has the face of someone with zero thoughts, eyes wide and face flat

Andrew Minyard

-the only reason he doesn’t wear his glasses is because he actually lost them years ago and doesn’t want to admit he can’t find them anywhere

-when he was a little kid he was actually really shy

-when his nail varnish chips he just paints back over it instead of taking the rest off before hand and it’s usually kinda messy

-since he has smoker lungs™️ whenever he’s sick it actually sounds like if a teenage boy going through puberty smoked twelve boxes a day

-only got piercings because Aaron had them and he thought they looked cool and he only really started finding his ‘style’ after moving in with Aaron and Nicky

Kevin Day

-has the LOUDEST snore ever but denies that he snores at all

-the foxes all tease him and have inside jokes about his ‘crush’ on Jeremy

-almost everyone and their mother has numerous videos of his drunkenly singing his heart out and it’s usually something like bohemian rhapsody or some basic ‘white chick’ music

-in the nest his hair was always trimmed and neat but when he left he let his hair grow a bit and just left it to flop around and do its own thing

-will literally stop, drop and roll in tears if a spider goes near him

Aaron Minyard

-growing up he was considered a ‘crybaby’ by a few people because he cries or gets teary when frustrated/angry

-has fallen out the bed so many times it’s ridiculous and then will wonder how he wakes up with random bruises (my other post about his weird sleeping🗣️🗣️🗣️)

-has a fear of cats

-Aaron’s eyesight is a lot worse than Andrews

-Randy often asks Matt to invite Aaron over during the holidays and stuff once Matt and Aaron become closer (they are best friends idc)

Seth Gordon

-he likes when Allison is the big spoon but that’s a secret for them and them only

-had a pet hamster named Jerry who ran away when he was a kid

-DAHLIA PIERCINGS🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

-he was the sibling that turns off the lights and holds the door closed to scare his siblings

-Allison was the first (and last) girlfriend he was truly inlove with

Matt Boyd

-gives THE BEST hugs🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ I mean like lifting people off the ground in big bear hugs kinda hugs🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

-buys flowers for Dan everytime he goes to the shops

-he and Andrew do become somewhat friends at some point

-he the best at video games AND board games out of all the foxes

-he has very subtle freckles in his nose

Dan Wilds

-GUMMY SMILEEEEEE!!!!!!!

-she and her work sisters used to do secret Santa every year and she was known for the best/most meaningful presents

-she’s one of those people who hit when they laugh

-her favourite Disney princess growing up was Snow White

-she is absolutely COVERED in beauty spots/moles

Nicky Hemmick

-used to be very lanky before joining the foxes but ended up gaining some muscle after awhile

-he doesn’t like his hair being played with but he LOVES playing with other peoples hair

-has a resting worried/shocked face and the foxes find it hilarious

-would rather go bald than eat chocolate cake

-acts like the world is ending and his immune system is shutting down whenever he has a cold

#this isn’t good because I got lazy #most aren’t that much different lmao #all for the game #aftg #aaron minyard #andrew minyard #renee walker #the sunshine court #neil josten #allison reynolds #dan wilds #matt boyd #kevin day #seth gordon #nicky hemmick #the foxes #the foxhole court

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songoftrillium · 10 months

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Meet The (Updated) Writing Team

Hello Kinfolks! These last two months have been quiet for y'all in terms of updates, but BUSY in terms of the work being done by the sept of contributors to this project!

At the start of October I put out the call for help, saying that this project cannot succeed without the help and support of the Werewolf fandom. I'm happy to report that you as a fandom have responded phenomenally, and production on this series is now underway! These last few months have been dedicated to recruiting team members, and researching our book framework. We've about filled in the main core of the team, and have already gotten started writing Book 1: Cliath!

October through November has been dedicated entirely to research, both putting together a collection of citations we'll be using in this first book, and passing out initial writing assignments. This list is sure to grow in time, but for now we have plenty of work to do!

With that all said, I'd like to introduce you to the team that are showcasing the Gaians.

Amy Waller (she/her)

Bluesky

Ms. Waller is a freelance writer and massage therapist based in not-quite Northern Virginia, and is a contributor to D.W.A.R.V.S. . Werewolf the Apocalypse was her first RPG, and she loves the themes of shapechanging as self-actualization and of trying to balance instinct and wisdom.

Amy has joined the team to depict the journals of Cryptobiologist Esme "Leaping Ghost".

Bek Andrew Evans (He/They)

Linktree

Mx. Evans is a freelance writer and illustrator from Jackson, Mississippi. He explores themes of mental illness, disability, abuse, poverty, queer themes and the intersection of these statuses. He uses body and psychological horror, meticulous attention to medical details, and deep character dives as some of his favorite methods to achieve those goals.

Bek has been indispensible in book research, and will be taking his experience with M20 Sorcerer and writing for the Hearthbound, and fictitious news article citations.

Evie Emerson Smith (She/It)

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Evie is a programmer and designer of video games living with her pack in Pittsburgh, PA. She uses primarily anthropomorphic characters to tell stories about identity, queerness, and the power of community.

She has joined the team as a technical writer, and contributor to the opening comic: Cracking The Bone

Excelgarou (She/Her)

Carrd

She's been described as a Werewolf: The Apocalypse academic, and wears this title proudly. She labors at all hours on resources for Werewolf fans - particularly as regards aggregating otherwise obscure information - such as the Build-a-Veteran tool or (especially) the Werewolf Index Project.

Excelgarou is our lead researcher, ensuring our book citations and narrative voices remain consistent through all editions. She has also been conscripted to write the introductory passage on the World of Darkness, and to redraft the Children of Gaia.

James E. Deeley (He/Him)

Linktree

Jim has been playing, running, and writing for tabletop roleplaying games since he was first introduced to them over twenty years ago. Jim has presented on the subject of writing for games since 2010, and has been contracted to write mechanics and to do character design by the likes of High Level Games, Lostlorn Games, and Renegade Game Studios, but is equally skilled at writing lore and narrative, skills honed over two decades of running roleplaying games and medieval studies, lending a deep historical context to his writings.

Jim will write the Western Concordat, showcasing the Silver Fangs, Fianna, Get of Fenris, and Glass Walkers.

J.F. Sambrano (They/He)

Patreon

J. F. Sambrano is an author of horror and (urban/dark/depressing?) fantasy and an advocate for indigenous rights. He lives in Washington (the state) and is originally from Los Angeles (the city); the differences are staggering but the ocean and the I-5 are the same. He is Chiricahua Apache (Ndeh) and Cora Indian (Náayarite). He may or may not be a believer/practitioner of real world magic. If he were, he would not be interested in your hippy-dippy, crystal swinging, dream-catcher slinging garbage.But magic is real, let’s not fuck around.

Beloved Indigenous World of Darkness author J.F. Sambrano is joining our team to depict the Bastet in the Dawn Tribes! A friend and frequent topic of discussion on this blog, we are honored to have him on the team to bring the Werewolf: the Apocalypse he's long-felt the world deserves to life!

LeeKat (She/Her)

Linktree

Lee is a freelance artist, writer, and English teacher based in Brazil. The bulk of her content is furry, homoerotic, and TTRPG-centric works. Her writing focuses on exploring the depths of emotion with tales of self-discovery, queerness, and finding hope in a desolate world.

A huge lover of Werewolf, themes of generational trauma and rediscovering oneself in a world of turmoil resonated deeply, as well as themes of spirituality and ancestry. Writing for this project, she hopes to bring others the same catharsis she felt through exploring the books and their many themes.

Mórag (it/its)

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Mòrag is a writer and botanist from Te Wai Pounamu. It writes both botanical articles and horror stories, the former to raise awareness of ecological issues and the latter to explore what it means to be human, represent trans and autistic experiences, and addiction. It's horror writing is best recognized for its use of visceral first-person perspectives, body horror, and the grotesque. It is influenced heavily by works such as the Hellraiser films and the philosophies of Georges Bataille.

It has joined our team to write the story portions of the Song of Trillium, showcasing the legend of Tawatuy.

#world of darkness #werewolf: the apocalypse #dead mountain #werewolf the apocalypse #werewolves #w5 #werewolf the essentials #indie games #indie ttrpg #horror ttrpg #queer writers #queer ttrpg #witers #ttrpg #indigenous authors #brazilian authors

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angelwings-crossbowstrings · 10 months

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Blood Ties Chapter 5

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Medical blood draw, allusions to abortion, poorly written smut

A/N: Even after figuring out where I wanted to go with it, this chapter feels weak to me. I’m sorry.

Moodboard by @dannyo000 💙

You looked over Daryl’s shoulder and squinted at the light before the man moved, wrapping a curiously gentle hand around your bicep to urge you into the building.

“Daryl, you cover the back.” Shane ordered quietly.

The lobby was eerily quiet, no immediate answer to Rick’s calls. You looked around for a moment and then tracked Daryl while he kept a keen eye out for walkers. A small hand squeezed your shoulder, startling you. When you turned, Carol was already pulling you closer to herself and her daughter. They were keeping the women and children in the middle, protecting them.

You wanted to balk at the idea. You could very well handle yourself if they would give you a weapon but apparently that was still out of the question.

There was the echo of a gun cocking, all eyes falling on the lone man at the end of the corridor, a rifle in his hands. “Anybody infected?” He asked, warily eyeing each member of the group.

“One of our group was.” Rick answered solemnly. You could sense the collective shift in the atmosphere, now heavy with grief. “He didn’t make it.”

The stranger didn't hesitate. “Why are you here? What do you want?”

“A chance.” Rick countered immediately.

“That’s asking an awful lot these days.”

“I know.”

There was a moment of contemplation, the gentleman once again scanning over each and every individual. “You all submit to a blood test. That’s the price of admission.”

Rick’s relief was evident in the tone of his reply. “We can do that.”

Weapons were lowered, the stranger nodding toward the doors. “You got stuff to bring in, you do it now. Once this door closes, it stays closed.”

There was a sudden burst of movement, bags and people shuffling about. Your own bag was pushed into your hands, Daryl’s eyes meeting yours for a moment before he jerked his chin to indicate you should follow the others into a rather large elevator. It was a squeeze but everyone managed to fit. Even if it did mean you were pressed tightly against the redneck.

“VI, seal the main entrance. Kill the power up here.”

There were beeps and rattles as the elevator closed. Introductions were being made, information shared but you could only focus on the heat radiating from the man nearly pressed flush against your back. With a careful step, you shifted closer to Carol.

Everyone filed out once the doors opened but remained behind Dr. Jenner, listening to him explain the facility and what had been happening within the government sectors since the turn. Your thoughts, however, were running circles around the blood test he would be doing. Maybe you could manage to be the last draw and ask him in private to run the extra test if it wasn’t already on his agenda to do so. You could only assume that his priority was to ensure no one was infected.

“Hey.”

Your head snapped up to find Daryl watching you with a narrowed, cautious gaze.

“Keep up.”

“Sir, yes, sir.” You mock saluted, hurrying by him. He muttered something as you passed that you figured was probably nothing you cared to hear.

Straight to business, Jenner began drawing blood samples. Chewing on your lip, you began to creep back toward the wall, ensuring everyone was in front of you until—

“The hell ya doin’?” Daryl drawled right beside your ear. You hadn’t realized he was still behind you. Snatching your arm from his grasp, you glared up at him.

“Just getting in line.” You sneered, side-stepping around him just as Jenner announced he was ready for the next person. Only you and Daryl remained. For the briefest moment, you pondered if his thoughts were aligning with your own, his blue eyes locked on you even as his blood was pulled into the tube.

You glanced around to find everyone else chattering about the facility and the things they had been informed of, not really concerned with the testing going on.

Except Rick and Daryl.

Fuck.

You plopped down on the chair and presented your arm, wracking your brain for a way of asking for him to run a pregnancy test without alerting Rick to your plight. As you glanced up, you found the man in question saying something to Daryl but the redneck wasn’t listening, his eyes burning into your own. You felt your stomach churn, an uncomfortable tingling sensation prickling at your hands and feet. Your ears began to ring just as Dr. Jenner announced he was done. With a minute nod, you stood, albeit slowly but it wasn’t enough. The world tilted, littered with black dots. The wavering image of the floor was coming up to meet you.

“None of us have eaten in days. She’s new so she could have gone longer than us without.”

Consciousness was prodding at the edges of your mind, sounds and voices coming back all at once. As you peeled your eyes open, you waited for the pain from hitting the floor but it never came. In fact, you weren’t on the floor at all. No one was looking down at you.

“There she is.” Jacqui smiled, patting your hand that was carefully held between her own. You offered the smallest of smiles back, your eyes flickering over to where your knees dangled off of something.

A hand.

You turned your head to find none other than Daryl looking down at you with an unreadable expression.

“Um, thanks.” You mumbled, pressing your hand to your stomach. You still felt nauseous but the dizziness was ebbing away. “You can put me down now.”

“I gotcha.” He replied. His voice was low, almost soft.

“No, really. I’m good.” You looked around, now extremely uncomfortable with all the concerned stares and hushed voices. “Please.” You added, just low enough for only him to hear. Daryl didn’t say anything but carefully lowered your feet to the floor, his arm remaining across the small of your back while you gathered your bearings. “Thank you.”

He merely hummed. While he was no longer touching you, you couldn’t help but notice that his hand was still hovering.

“I think some food would be the next logical course of action.” Dr. Jenner gave a tight smile and led the way from the room.

You followed on unsteady legs, but Daryl stayed close. You weren’t sure how you felt about that.

You decided to forego the table, standing at the small counter in the kitchen area to pick at your pasta dish while everyone laughed and celebrated at the table. Even Daryl seemed to be in good spirits, choosing Glenn as the subject of his pestering. Everyone seemed so carefree in that moment, your thoughts wandered to your own family. How your father would have looked smiling brightly at that table and enjoying a good, hot meal in relative safety.

You brushed away the tear that had escaped and began to poke at your food with your fork. Feeling eyes on you, a glance showed Daryl watching you with a bottle just in front of his lips. Heat began to burn in your cheeks and you looked away, forcing yourself to take a bite that you didn’t even really want, hungry as you were. When you dared to look again, he was smiling and partaking in the toasts to Jenner.

“Here’s to you, doc. Booyah!” He shouted before taking a generous swig straight from the bottle. Glasses clinked and similar praises were given. You raised your water glass when the quiet doctor’s eyes drifted over to you.

You could only hope that from where you stood, no one noticed you weren’t drinking. You could always blame it on the nausea but that might only fuel more suspicion. Lucky for you, Shane decided to steer the mood into the opposite direction and all celebrations died down quickly.

The meal was finished in relative silence. Even Daryl was leaned back against the counter with the bottle still in his hand, his expression grim.

Jenner showed everyone to the rest of the living area. Some rooms had beds while others had couches. There were two words, though, that seemed to halt everyone in their tracks: hot water. It was almost comical to watch the bodies scatter but you remained still, letting them go until only you remained in the hall. You could shower later. You needed a moment alone with the doctor.

You found him at one of the control panels, a centrifuge with tubes of blood sitting inside. You were wringing your hands as you approached, steps so quiet that he didn’t seem to notice you. Now that you had the opportunity to speak with him, you were petrified. He could say one word that would change your life forever.

“Hi, Dr. Jenner.”

The man was obviously startled, spinning in the chair to regard you with wide eyes. “Oh! Y/N, right?” You nodded, feeling your legs begin to tremble. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. A little. I guess.” You stumbled over words, twisting one hand within the other until it hurt. “That’s why—why I’m here, actually.”

“I thought as much.” He sighed, laying down his pen on a notepad with more care than necessary.

You felt your stomach sink. “You—did?” He nodded, expression almost sympathetic. “If you know why I’m here, then that means—” Your knees all but buckled, hands steadying yourself against the console before the doctor stood and offered his chair.

“I take it this wasn’t planned.” You shook your head, gaze as vacant as your mind felt in that moment. Dr. Jenner pulled up another chair and sat down in front of you. “May I ask, the father, is he alive?” You nodded absently. “Will you tell him?”

That gave you pause, cogs and wheels turning in overdrive to make your brain function. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“It’s my opinion,” Jenner tapped on the desk as if just trying to do anything other than focus too hard on the conversation, “these are the end times. It goes without saying that there are no blessings anymore. Nothing real to hope for anymore.” Words were failing you as you struggled to entertain his thoughts. “I can help you.”

You stopped breathing. Was he suggesting—No. No, you couldn’t possibly make a decision of that magnitude without Daryl. Regardless of how it came to be, the baby was just as much his as it was yours. He had to know. “I, um—thank you, Dr. Jenner. Really.” You stood, tripping over the chair when you stepped back. Jenner did rise from his seat to ensure you didn’t fall but promptly returned once you were able to remain upright. “I just—he has to know. I have to tell him.” You blurted another ‘thank you’ as you jogged from the room, miraculously making it to the final empty room before you allowed yourself to break down.

Sliding down the wall, you let one hand rest on your stomach, now certain there was a little life there. The halls were quiet; anyone could hear. Your other hand covered your mouth, stifling your harsh sobs.

You were pregnant.

You were scared.

You wanted your father. His advice, his embrace. You would have even taken his scolding just to have him there. What a cruel twist of fate, losing your family only to be gifted with a new one.

And then there was Daryl. Rude, angry, impulsive. What were you thinking? Well, you weren’t thinking of babies, that was for sure.

You needed to get yourself together, figure out what to do next. Deep breath through the nose, count to five. Out through the mouth, count to five. You continued, pushing yourself to your feet so you could start pacing the room.

You knew you had to tell Daryl. But when? If you waited, anything could happen. You could be injured or you could lose the baby. Fuck, or both. If he didn’t know and found out that way, he’d be furious. You hadn’t experienced the full scope of his anger and truly hoped not to, especially when it came to anything regarding the baby.

You couldn’t wait. You had to tell him.

“Like a bandaid. Just rip it off.” You told yourself when you opened the door and stepped into the hall. Quickly, you realized that you didn’t know what room he was in. “Fuck.”

“Wha’re ya doin’?”

Of course. You looked over your shoulder first, finding him leaning against the wall outside an open door. “Looking for you, actually.”

“Why?”

“Can we talk?” The smell of alcohol wafted into your nostrils within several feet of him. Distantly, you wondered if it was too early for your pregnancy to be responsible. His eyes drifted down your body and back up before he flattened against the wall to let you by.

Daryl had chosen one of the rooms with a couch, leaving you instantly feeling guilty for having a bed in your own. You didn’t choose the room, it just happened to be the only one open when you came back from meeting with Jenner. Maybe you could offer it to him to smooth things over after you had talked.

“Look, Daryl—” You spun to find him standing mere inches away, that unreadable expression firmly in place. “First of all, are you drunk?” You rubbed your lips together before pulling the bottom one between your teeth. You weren’t doing this if he was drunk.

“Nah. Take more than wine for that.”

Your eyes flitted over to the bottle of whiskey on the end table. “You mean, like that?” You pointed, raising an eyebrow when he actually turned to look.

“Ain’t had any.” He sniffed and crossed his arms. “Yet. Whaddaya need?”

“Daryl, I went to—well, when I—” The food from earlier began threatening to make a reappearance, worsening as his eyes continued to narrow. “I need to sit down.” The hard look faded and gave way to concern, something you hadn’t seen him openly convey. He didn’t say anything, but you felt his hand on your back, urging you toward the couch. “I’m sorry.” Like a bandaid. Like a bandaid. Your brain chanted at you, even as you doubled over to put your head on your knees.

“Jesus, woman. It ain’t that big’a deal.” His flippant tone made you yearn to smack him upside the head with one of the couch’s cushions until you sat up with something particularly snarky on the tip of your tongue, only to be met with him unbuckling his belt. Your mouth agape, you did little more than blink at him. “Finally,” he drawled, leaning down to cage you against the back of the couch with an arm on either side, “didn’t think ya’d ever shut up.”

You should have stopped him. You knew that. But the moment his mouth was on yours, you were a lost cause. All you could focus on was the warmth beneath your hands. Daryl ran hot, never failing to leave your blood boiling beneath your skin. In a world gone cold with death, it was a relief to feel something so alive.

“Saw ya in the truck.” He all but purred, pressing open-mouthed kisses across your jaw. “Would’a handled it for ya if ya’d asked.” He used his knee to force your legs apart, leaving it pressed into the couch just in front of your center.

“Didn’t—wanna do this again.” You breathed, arching up with your head back to grant him access to the full expanse of your throat.

“Yeah, ya did.” Daryl grinned against your flesh, his warm breath causing you to shiver. “S’a itch ya need scratched, same as me.”

Goddamnit, he was right. At first, it was all about the pleasure. The man excelled at making you feel good. Soon enough, it had gone beyond that. It was a connection with another person. You’d begun to crave being touched, being wanted. You lusted for the rush of making him feel good. You could die at any given moment and had wanted to live while you could.

You needed to tell him about the baby—and you would—but first, you needed this. You could revel in the feel of him without the looming dangers of being vulnerable in the outside world.

Your hand splayed open against his chest, pushing him back enough to enable you to pull your shirt over your head. Your slender fingers began undoing the button of your jeans while his mouth danced across the newly exposed skin. Lifting your hips, you slid down your pants and used your feet to rid yourself of them completely before you desperately pushed his trousers down his legs.

It was the first time you’d seen so much of his bare skin, wondering if he’d finally allow you to touch him without the barrier of clothing. “I want you.” The admission left your mouth in a breathless plea. Daryl kicked his pants away from his feet, never ceasing his onslaught against the swell of your breasts above your bra.

“Yeah?” He teased while a large hand slid across your ribs and around to your back, skilled fingers snapping open the clasp of your bra. You shed the article without care and tossed it. His mouth and hands were on you instantly. Lips and tongue taunted one nipple while he palmed your other breast. The calloused skin over your sensitive peak had you arching into him, breathy moans escaping your parted lips with abandon. “Thought I’s a asshole?”

You whimpered when you felt the light graze of his teeth. “You’re still an asshole.” Knowledgeable fingers slid your panties aside to massage your clit with just the right amount of pressure. “But I still want you to fuck me. Like now.” Pushing him away, you rose to your feet and shed your last article of clothing, nearly groaning when he allowed you to push his underwear down his legs. He was kicking them aside when you pulled up on the bottom of his shirt.

“No!” He barked, batting your hand away. You reeled back, caught off guard in the moment, eyes wide. While his expression was tense, shame and sadness overflowed from that beautiful blue.

“Okay.” You whispered, stepping hesitantly back into his space. He flinched when you placed your hands on his sides, on top of his shirt. There was a story there, a deep wound that he wasn’t going to reveal anytime soon. It wasn’t a subject to be pushed right then. Your mouth hovered in front of his, the wine on his breath tempting you to slowly dip your tongue between his lips. It passed across his own and withdrew, enough to spur him onward.

He kissed you hard, a dance of tongues and teeth. He was stepping backward while you walked him until the backs of his legs hit the couch. He fell onto it almost clumsily but his hands found your hips with ease as you climbed onto his lap.

Your slick coated his cock with a drag of your hips, pulling a moan from him that you eagerly swallowed. “I fucking hate this.” You growled, repeating the action.

“Think your pussy says somethin’ diff’rent.” He nipped at your bottom lip, his large hands roaming your torso, up up up to squeeze your breasts. You hissed at the hint of pain, grinding your hips down harder. “Grab a rubber from my bag.”

“Pull out.” You dismissed him quickly. If he objected, he didn’t voice it. What he did do was slide a hand down to your mound to circle your swollen clit with his thumb. “Damn you.” You tugged on his hair, earning a groan and a buck of his hips. Sliding your hips forward while lifting yourself slightly, the tip of him caught your entrance. Embarrassingly aroused, you were able to slide right down until your ass met his thighs. “Fuck, why does that have to feel so good?” The perfect stretch of accommodation had your cunt fluttering around him.

“Cause s’mine, remember?” Daryl growled, pushing his hips up with a satisfied hiss. You did remember. That tight feeling in your chest stirred to life, but you shoved it down, rolling your body over him to allow pleasure to swallow you. You couldn’t think about his words, the deeper meaning that you subconsciously wished they held. You couldn’t think of the baby inside you that he didn’t know about yet.

You shook your head and threw it back, riding him in earnest. Each bounce resulted in a slap of slick skin on skin, his cock hitting every nerve inside of you that had your toes curling within moments. When you looked at him, he was watching you with dark eyes, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth in an attempt to stay quiet beyond the occasional grunt. His hands had traveled back to your hips to help lift and lower you, successfully spearing you onto him.

Your own hands slid down his clothed chest before you leaned back and braced yourself on his thighs. The new feel of his skin had the pleasure knot twisting hard in your belly.

“Goddamn.” You heard him growl, one hand abandoning your waist to splay open between your breasts. “Slow down, woman.”

But you didn’t. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on the good you were feeling. Your chest was growing tighter and tighter until it felt like you couldn’t breathe. With strangled moans and gasps that felt futile, you leaned forward and fisted your hands in his shirt. Your eager bounces melted into a desperate grind against him.

You just wanted to feel good.

“Y/N, stop!”

And you did. You fell forward and all but wailed against his chest, any pleasurable sensation dissipating entirely. Everything came crashing down all at once, leaving you cold and scared and alone, even with Daryl still very much inside of you. Your sobs continued, any thought of moving quickly dismissed.

“I’m—sorry.” You finally managed through the tears, your voice small to even your own ears. Daryl had yet to move and now, you were terrified to, fearing the look he was sure to be sporting. Still, there was only so long you could remain that way. When your sobs quieted to hiccups, you began to pull away from him only for his arm to encircle your back.

Daryl was careful and quiet when he slipped out of you, keeping you pressed against him even as he rose slightly. He caught you beneath your legs to keep you from falling when he twisted to lay you across the couch. You stayed as he had placed you, watching him grab up his pack and head into the bathroom without a word. The shower turned on a moment later.

You waited a moment more and then sat up, testing your legs before starting to gather up your clothing. You had really fucked this up, once again letting carnal desires outweigh any form of logic. How could you even face him after that, let alone tell him you were pregnant?

“Damnit.” You whispered, finishing up getting dressed before you reached for the doorknob. You hesitated, taking a step toward the bathroom before ultimately turning around and leaving the room.

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the-name-is-z · 6 months

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SKELETONS | ch. 14

daryl dixon x f!oc

masterlist

a03 link

Summary: As everyone reels at the events of the past few days, Glenn reveals a big secret, causing a larger conflict to develop. Warnings/Information: AMC's The Walking Dead OC Insert | 18+ Advised | strangers to lovers; the slowest of slow burns; gore; angst; horror; humour; m/f; group conflict, threat of violence/murder, Shane is an asshole, killing walkers that used to be loved family members (including children)

Chapter 14 - Out of the Frying Pan

The sound of steel scraping against stone did nothing to make the morning less awkward. Iris felt like she knew too much of everything, and she wanted it off her shoulders. Carol was cooking eggs over the fire, and Andrea was loudly and incorrectly sharpening a knife.

“It’ll be more comfortable if you swipe the other way.” Iris said quietly, coming to sit down on the chair beside Andrea. She looked up, staring questioningly at Iris. Andrea looked back down, at Iris’ plethora of knives, before she changed her grip, swiping the knife against the rock a different way. Iris nodded in confirmation. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you or put myself in between you and Daryl. I’m just… glad it’s over.”

“It’s okay.” Andrea nodded after a moment. “I get it. I respect you, Iris. I could probably learn a lot from you. But you have to give me the chance.”

“That’s fair.” Iris replied. She extended a hand. “Truce?”

“Truce.” Andrea agreed, smiling as they shook hands. Iris pulled something out of her pocket, handing Andrea her survival knife sharpener. It had several slots depending on the size and type of knife, and Iris pointed to the second one.

“It’ll work faster. Pull evenly, in one motion. Also, if you’re gonna use a rock as a whetstone, it should be wet so you don’t damage the knife.” Iris explained, motioning with her hands. Andrea followed her instructions, examining the blade of her knife.

“Thanks.” She said with a half-smile. Iris nodded. Carol called the others for breakfast, dishing out portions of eggs as the group gathered around the fire. Shane kept a bit of a distance, considering the glares Iris was shooting his way.

“Um, guys?” Glenn called, standing up from a small tree stump. Iris paused, fork halfway to her mouth. Everyone looked up, turning to him. “So… the barn is full of walkers.” Everyone stopped, the sounds of chewing and polite scraping screeching to a halt.

“I’m sorry?” Iris asked, glancing from Glenn to the large barn a little ways away from the house, the one Hershel was fairly secretive about. The group collectively pilgrimaged across the land toward the barn, peering in through the wood slats to hear soft moans and shuffling coming from inside. Shane lurched back as a walker spotted him, pressing itself against the wall from inside. “No shit.” Iris murmured. Shane stalked back to where the group was gathering, at a safe, respectful distance.

“You cannot tell me you’re alright with this.” He hissed to Rick, brushing straight past him.

“No, I’m not, but we’re guests here. This isn’t our land.” Rick replied sharply. Shane scoffed, pacing.

“This is our lives, man!”

“Lower your voice.” Glenn warned.

“We can’t just sweep this under the rug.” Andrea protested, folding her arms.

“It ain’t right, not remotely. Okay, we’ve either got to go in there, make things right, or we’ve just got to go. Now we’ve been talking about Fort Benning for a long time—” Shane started.

“We can’t go.” Rick hissed.

“Why, Rick? Why?”

“Because my daughter is still out there.” Carol answered, and Iris was impressed she stood up for herself and her daughter. Plus, she was right.

“Okay.” Shane almost laughed, rubbing both hands down his face. “Okay, now I think its time that we all just start to consider the other possibility.”

“Shane.” Lori scolded.

“We’re not leaving Sophia behind.” Rick said firmly.

“We’re close to finding this girl, Iris and I just found her damn doll two days ago.” Daryl protested.

“You found her doll, Daryl, that’s what you did. You found a doll.” Shane replied.

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!”

“I’m just saying what needs to be said! You get a good lead, it’s in the first 48 hours—”

“Shane, stop!” Rick yelled.

“Let me tell you something else, man. If she was alive out there and saw you coming all methed out with your buck knife covered in blood, she would run in the other direction!” Shane spat. Daryl threw himself at him and Rick shoved himself between the two before they could start swinging at each other. Everyone had to pull them apart, shoving them in opposite directions.

“Just let me talk to Hershel. Let me figure it out.” Rick told him.

“What are you gonna figure out?!” Shane cried.

“Enough!” Lori hissed.

“If we’re gonna clear this barn, if we’re gonna stay, I have to talk him into it. This is his land.” Rick insisted.

“Hershel sees those things in there as people.” Dale announced, turning to everyone. “Sick people. His wife. His stepson.”

“You knew?” Rick asked, feeling somewhat betrayed.

“Yesterday, I talked to Hershel.” Dale explained.

“And you waited the night.” Shane hissed.

“I thought we could survive one more night.” Dale shot back. “We did. I was waiting till this morning to say something, but Glenn wanted to be the one.”

“The man is crazy, Rick, if Hershel thinks those things are alive or no!” The noise they were making was aggravating the walkers and the chains on the barn doors began to rattle. They pounded up against the door, the wood shaking and creaking. Iris sighed.

“How many are there?” She asked quietly.

“I don’t know. Maybe… two dozen? More or less.” Glenn replied. Rick sighed, running a hand over his face. Shane stormed off and started to walk around the barn, scoping out its stability.

Glenn turned to go talk to Maggie, to inform her of what he’s told them. Carol, Andrea, Lori and Carl went back to the campsite to keep a safe distance. Iris and Daryl stood with Rick and Dale at the front of the barn, Rick and Dale conversing about how they could speak to Hershel in an amicable way.

“How do you think they get them in there?” Iris wondered, watching the barn doors shake every so often. Daryl shrugged.

“Does it matter?” He asked. Iris pursed her lips. She supposed not, but… a hundred what-if’s spun through her mind. “We gotta go look for her. I’m gonna go get the horse again.”

“You can’t, you’re still injured.” Iris protested, following after him. “And Rick had to talk Hershel down from skinning you when he found out you almost stole them last time.”

“I don’t care.” He grumbled.

“Well I do.” Iris replied, stepping in front of him. “We can go out later to follow the trail with Rick.”

“Yeah, well, I ain’t gonna sit around and do nothing.”

“You almost died, Daryl. We don’t even know if we’re gonna find her.” Iris continued, her voice faltering at the end. He blinked, looking down at the ground. “I can barely look Carol in the eyes thinking about it. But we can’t afford to lose anyone else.”

“You gonna come with me then? Or not?” He asked after a moment, his voice ever-so-slightly less harsh. Iris sighed, looking back at the barn before turning to him.

“Yeah. I’m coming with you. After Rick talks to Hershel.”

“Fine.” He replied. He paused, looking down at her for a moment before trudging back up to their campsite.

Rick talked to Hershel, going out to see Shane at the barn a little while after. They had what seemed like a small argument before Rick stalked back to the campsite. He gathered those that wanted to search for Sophia and brought them to their usual spot, at the map on the hood of the station wagon.

“It also shows she could be moving this way south.” He murmured, moving his finger along the creek. “If Sophia went in that direction, she might have gotten out of the forest and into the farmland. So we take 74 up to Ivy Road, then push down south on foot through the forest till we hit Christopher, go east a couple of miles, then double back.” He explained.

“Rick.” Iris mumbled, jerking her chin over to Hershel, who was rolling his sleeves up as he walked toward them.

“Rick.” Hershel called.

“Hershel.” He replied. “We just have out guns out because we’re gonna go look for Sophia.”

“Before you do that, I could use your help with something.” He stated, putting his hands on his hips.

“Count me in.” Andrea said instantly. Iris waited, raising an eyebrow.

“Thank you, but I just need Rick.” Hershel said, looking to him expectantly.

“We’ll be waiting for you when you’re ready.” Iris told Rick, and he nodded to them, following Hershel toward the field.

“Iris, can I talk to you for a sec?” Carl asked, walking over. Iris nodded, stepping away from Andrea and Daryl with the kid. “I know Shane thinks Sophia is dead, but that’s bullshit. We’ve gotta stay here until we find her.”

“I know cowboy, I know.” Iris agreed, grinning. “That hat fits good, you’re like a real cowboy now.” He nodded. “Carl, we’re not gonna stop looking, okay? And if you heal before we find her, you can come help us look, okay? But not before.”

“Okay.” He nodded. Iris smiled softly. He took it all so seriously.

“And watch your language. Your mama will have my head if she thinks I’m teaching you bad words.” Iris joked, and he relinquished a smile. Shane stormed past them toward the RV, looking for the guns, presumably. Except Dale had taken them.

“Iris!” Shane called, stomping toward them.

“You go see your mom, alright?” Iris said quietly, sending Carl running to Lori. “What, Shane?”

“Where’d he go?” Shane asked.

“Where’d who go?” She asked, looking up nonchalantly.

“Don’t bullshit me, girl.” He spat, pushing her up against a tree with one arm across her shoulders. She shoved at him, but he was clearly stronger than her.

“Hey!” Daryl called, running over.

“You’d better learn some respect.” Iris snapped. She hooked her foot behind his knee and tugged, sending him off balance as she grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back, brandishing her knife. She held it away from him, but the looming threat was evident. Daryl paused in front of them, Andrea following suit. Iris kicked Shane forward. “I’m sick of your shit. You want to find Dale, go find him, but don’t expect to push me around.”

He pushed up off the ground, looking at her like he looked at Dale that day. He turned away and stormed toward the SUV. Andrea paused before jogging after him, and Daryl raised an eyebrow at Iris.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” He asked, looking her up and down.

“I grew up in a bar. Didn’t have a choice.” She replied. Iris sighed, recalling her teenage years. “Assholes like Shane are not hard to come by.” Daryl sat back, seemingly satisfied with that answer as he looked over his shoulder at Shane and Andrea’s animated yet muffled conversation.

“Where the hell is Rick?” Iris asked, walking over to Glenn and Maggie who sat beside one another on the porch. Daryl and Andrea strode beside her, T-Dog and Carol coming up the other side.

“You know what’s going on?” T-Dog asked.

“You haven’t seen Rick?” Glenn asked in response.

“We were supposed to leave a couple hours ago.” Daryl grunted.

“Rick told us he was going out.” Carol said, shrugging.

“Oh, good. Brutus is back.” Iris grumbled as Shane appeared, the bag of guns slung over his shoulder and a rifle in hand. “What did you do to Dale?”

“He’s on his way.” Shane replied lowly. “Time to grow up.” He started handing out guns. “You already got yours?” He asked Andrea.

“Yeah. What’s going on?”

“I thought we couldn’t carry?” T-Dog asked.

“Yeah, well, we can and we have to.” Shane spat.

“Oh god.” Iris muttered, running a hand through her hair. “Shane—“

“I don’t wanna hear it.” He yelled, pointing a finger at her. She raised an eyebrow, folding her arms. Beth and Patricia came over from the other side of the porch, Carl in tow. “Look, it was one thing sitting around here picking daisies when we thought this place was supposed to be safe, but now we know it ain’t. How about you man, you gonna protect yours?” He asked Glenn, offering him a shotgun. He even turned to Maggie. “Can you shoot?”

“Can you stop?” She retorted. “You do this, you hand out these guns, my dad will make you leave tonight.”

“We have to stay, Shane.” Carl said firmly.

“What is this?” Lori asked, storming out from inside the farmhouse.

“44 BC, The fall of the Roman Empire.” Iris replied.

“We ain’t going anywhere, okay? Hey, look, Hershel, he’s just gotta understand, okay? He— well, he’s gonna have to. Now we need to find Sophia, am I right?” He knelt down in front of Carl, offering him the small pistol he’d stolen yesterday. “Now I want you to take this. You take it, Carl, and you keep your mother safe. You do whatever it takes. You know how. Go on, take the gun and do it.”

“Rick said no guns. This is not your call.” Lori hissed, pulling her son away from Shane. “This is not your decision to make.”

“Oh shit.” T-Dog murmured. They all turned to see Jimmy emerging from the forest, clapping his hands loudly. The noise was attracting walkers. Two, specifically, that also happened to be caught at the end of two snare poles that Rick and Hershel held. They were herding the walkers… somewhere.

“What is that… what is that?” Shane spat, bursting into a sprint.

“Shane, wait!” Daryl yelled. They all shot out after him, running across the field.

“What the hell are you doing?” Shane yelled, running over.

“Shane, back off!” Rick retorted.

“Why do your people have guns?” Hershel asked, scowling.

“I feel like there is a more appropriate question for this situation.” Iris pointed out, skidding to a stop as one of the walkers reached for her. Rick pulled it back and the others raised their guns, just in case.

“Are you kidding me? You see? You see what they’re holding onto?” Shane yelled, circling them.

“I see who I’m holding onto!” Hershel snapped.

“No, man, you don’t.” Shane replied simply.

“Shane, just let us do this, and then we can talk.” Rick grumbled as they continued shoving the walkers toward the barn.

“What do you want to talk about, Rick? These thing’s ain’t sick! They’re not people! They’re dead! Ain’t gotta feel nothing for ‘em, ‘cause all they do, they kill! These things right here? They’re the things that killed Amy! They killed Otis! They’re gonna kill all of us!”

“Shane, shut up!�� Rick yelled. They were almost to the barn, but Shane put himself in between them and the barn, his pistol tight in his grip.

“Hey, Hershel, let me ask you something, man. Could a living breathing person, could they walk away from this?” He asked as he shot the walker Hershel was herding. The bullets went straight through it, the dress it was wearing already shredded.

“No!” Hershel cried.

“Stop it!” Rick yelled.

“That’s three rounds in the chest.” Shane snapped. The walker still lunged for them, bloody, broken nails scratching the air. “Could someone who’s alive, could they just take that? Why is it still coming?” He shot again, two more rounds in the chest this time. “See that? That’s it’s heart! Why is it still coming?” Three more rounds.

“Shane, enough!” Rick yelled.

“Yeah, you’re right, man. That is enough.” Shane growled. He stalked forward, and once he was in arms reach, he put a bullet through it’s brain. The walker collapsed, Hershel lamenting at the loss of someone he probably knew. Jimmy’s hands were on the back of his head in shock and Patricia clutched her chest. “Enough risking our lives for a little girl who’s gone! Enough living next to a barn full of things that are trying to kill us! Enough! Rick, it ain’t like it was before. Now if y’all wanna live, if y’all wanna survive, you gotta fight for it! I’m talking about fighting! Right here, right now!” He moved to the barn doors.

“Take the snare pole! Hershel, take the snare pole!” Rick urged. “Hershel! Listen to me, man. Please! Take it now! Hershel! Take it!” Shane cried out as he went at the chains on the barn doors with a stray pickaxe, pulling at the locks, the boards.

“Rick!” Lori yelled from closer to the house, holding Carl close.

“No, Shane! Do not do this, brother! Wait!” Rick pleaded.

“Don’t do it!” Glenn yelled.

“Rick!”

“Come on! Come on! We’re out here!” Shane yelled as he tossed the board aside, slamming on the doors. There was one chain left at the top that he couldn’t reach, but the walkers could make quick work of that.

“This is not the way!” Rick continued. “Please!” Everyone trained their weapons on the barn as Shane took a few steps back, pulling out his gun.

The chain was nothing to the walkers, the barn doors folding like cardboard. An undead young man, tall, bald with overalls, was the first to push his way through, snarling, bleeding from every orifice. Shane kept his gun trained at them, shots firing, and Andrea ran forward as more started pushing through. That young man. A young woman. A teenage boy. A middle-aged woman, an elderly woman. The others began stepping forward, guns firing. There was double what they thought.

“Maggie…” Glenn breathed, asking for permission.

“It’s okay.” She replied, sobbing as she held her father tight. Iris took that as her cue. She pulled out her gun and joined the fray. Shot an elderly man. A teenage girl. A middle-aged man. Shane made a point of turning around and shooting the walker that Rick was still holding in the snare pole. One by one they fell, in a semi-circle of corpses around the door of the barn. It wasn’t difficult, it went quickly. At some point, Hershel’s wife. His stepson. It was impossible to know who, but if they were in there, they went down. There was a wave of silence as they seemed to stop coming.

Iris was worried about the gunfire attracting more walkers, but the thought dissipated rather quickly when the final walker stumbled out from the doors of the barn. Iris heard Carol sob somewhere behind her. The walker with short brown hair in little bow clips away from her face, a blue t-shirt with a glittery rainbow. Khaki capri pants and sneakers with red socks. Soft growls and slow shuffling. There was no denying it was Sophia, but it was a shock to see her anyways. No one moved but Carol, who darted to her daughter. Daryl was quick to catch her, holding her back even as she collapsed to her knees.

“Sophia! Sophia! Oh no, Sophia!” She wailed. At one point in her life, Iris would have looked away, but she stared through that walker, straight into her dead eyes. Lori was muttering to Carl, who had fat tears rolling down his cheeks. Sophia moved forward, her gaze cloudy with decay, stumbling over the bodies.

“Don’t watch.” Lori whispered to Carl.

In the end, it was Rick who stepped forward, taking his gun from it’s holster and pulling the trigger.

TAGLIST:

@heidiland05

@ryoujoking

@catlalice

@maxinehufflepuffprincess

@lowkeyhottho

#thenameisz #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x original character #skeletons #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl dixon #twd daryl #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixon x oc

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threadfall · 5 months

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Pern Resources

This is an ongoing collection of links* that should cover a whole range of bits and pieces relating to Dragonriders of Pern and Anne McCaffrey – from interviews to interesting articles!

* I check these regularly, but I cannot vouch for if the domains still exist and, if not, what is currently on them. A lot of resources relating to Pern are from the 90s/early 2000s and liable to be replaced by random hosting spam. EDIT: walks-the-ages has added some excellent comments about the Wayback Machine! (And many thanks for backing the pages up on it.)

World Building – Canon

Dragon Lover's Guide to Pern, by Jody Lynn Nye – Link

Hosted by peoplepern.narod.ru, this website is in Russian but has a full English digitised DLG complete with pictures.

All the Songs of Pern – Link

Song Lyrics and Poetry – Link

Music From the World of Anne McCaffrey's Pern by Tania Opland and Mike Freeman – Link

It's worth noting that while the songbooks and CDs are available to buy, all the music is also available through Spotify.

Curses, Oaths, and Maledicta – Links

Pernese Sayings/Curses from Pern Etc. – Links

Anti Fandom Wiki – Link

World Building – 'Fanon'

News From Bree – Multiple links below!

Threadfall Patterns – Link Pern Demographics – Link Can Menolly Outrun Thread? – Link Dragon Demographics – Link Bargaining for Bubbly Pies – Link Originally a Tolkien fanzine between 1970-1988, the site is now a resource that covers multiple topics of interest to Hartley Patterson.

On Impression, by Faye Upton – Link

A multi-part essay on Upton's thoughts about how Impression does/should work, and its relation to the canon of the fanwork Dragonchoice.

Kadanzar Weyr Handbook – Link

While no longer active (since 2013 as of 2024), Kadanzar has multiple articles talking in depth about the 'canon' of their site, which are interesting reads for how Pern may have functioned. The link is specifically to a text page sharing all of the files uploaded to Kadanzar, and may take some time to load. Not all of the files are world building information (some are just site lists), however many are.

Living On Pern – Link

Shoulder Knots by Wicked Zoeygirl on Deviantart – Link

Oath Roleplay Resources – Link

Notable for its page on dragons and its 'non-canon' charter, which collects or infers mentioned rights from the books.

Fandom Topics

A Dragonlover's Guide to Pern Fandom from Kadanzer Weyr – Link The Tentpeg Interview (TW for homophobia and rape mentions) – Link

The Renewable Airforce Document – Link

Alliance Atlantis Dragonriders of Pern 'Making Of/Trailer' - Link

Hosted on Youtube, this is apparently from a CD showcasing the short trailer for their version of Dragonriders of Pern

Ronald D Moore on his cancelled Pern adaptation – Link

Anne McCaffrey – Interviews

Luna Monthly #56, November 1974 – Link

Hosted by FanAc.org, a fan history archive, and conducted by Paul Walker. This heavily discusses gender in the Sci-Fi genre.

Princessions #14, Summer 1983 – Link

Hosted on Google Drive, by this blog runner. Princessions was a Wonder Woman newszine, but switched to being about uplifting women's voices in the Scifantasy space. The interviews take place during the White Dragon book tour.

The Power of Science Fiction and Fantasy with Anne McCaffrey & Elizabeth Ann Scarborough – Link

Hosted on Youtube by A DISCUSSION WITH National Authors on Tour, conducted by Kay Drache of Hennepin County Library.

Collaborating with Anne McCaffrey: An interview with Elizabeth Moon – Link

Hosted on katemacdonald.net, conducted by Kate Macdonald. This talks at length about Moon writing the Planet Pirate series.

Anne McCaffrey - Women Writers, Channel 4 1988 – Link

Hosted on Youtube by Nearrrggghh.

Anne McCaffrey: Norwescon 16 Interview & House Tour – Link

Advice from a Master: Anne McCaffrey – Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 Time Out of Mind Episode 4 – Link

Hosted on Youtube, Time Out of Mind was a 1979 BBC 2 series about science fiction.

An Interview With Anne McCaffrey by Lynne Jamneck – Link

#resources #DRoP #Dragonriders of Pern #Anne McCaffrey

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walker-extended-universe · 29 days

Text

Walker Season 4 Deleted Scenes

4x01: The Quiet

Stella enters her dorm room and turns the light on. She locks the door before turning around. Her steps slow as she sees the window. The glass is blank and shows a clear night outside, with the blinds up and the curtains pulled aside. Stella drops her purse on the floor, quickly walks up to the window, and closes the blinds and the curtains. She then walks over to the bed and pulls her boots off, leaving them on the floor as she gets into bed still fully dressed. She reaches for a round fluffy pillow and holds it to her chest as she lays there silently. Ambient sounds from the dorm hallways can be heard throughout the scene.

4x04: Insane B.S. and Bloodshed

We pan up from an abandoned drink on the bar of the Side Step to see Sadie staring in through a clean spot on a cloudy window. We hear a robotic voice telling her to leave a message at the beep. She then leaves this message:

Hey, Ger. Um, I thought I'd catch you closing up the Side Step.... But, uh, I just wanted to say bye. Some tour stuff came up. Big opportunity! Um, I wish I coulda stayed longer, but I'll try and call from the road. Um.... Keep an eye on Stella for me, okay? Thanks. Alright, bye Ger.

As she talks, we hear some real regret in her voice and it's clear she's not telling the truth.

While she was on the phone, a car pulled up, illuminating her with headlights. Someone honked the horn, prompting her to quickly end her message. She rolls her eyes and grabs the backpack she left on one of the outdoor tables and heads for the car that's parked off screen.

4x10: End This Way

A light gray truck slowly drives down a road in a sunny area. As the truck pulls to a stop in some shade, we see Cassie is driving with David Luna in the passenger seat. After stopping the truck, Cassie pulls up her phone and starts poking at the screen. She says that the gazebo they're looking for is supposed to be on the north side of the lake, but she can see one much closer. As she confusedly looks for more information, she complains about the low quality of the map on the website she's looking at. David suggests they just go check it out and starts getting out of the truck. As he rounds the back, Cassie follows him out.

4x13: See You Sometime

Scene 1:

We see Stella and Liam walking alongside a fenced in field. Liam is looking over the horses and Stella is talking about her confusion over college and everyone expecting her to know what she wants to do with her life, echoing her earlier plotline about being unsure what she wanted with her life.

But, now that everything is done with the hunt for the necklace, she's remembered that, in her heart, all she wants to do is help people. She's not entirely sure what that looks like yet but lists psychology, sociology, and criminal justice as options she's looking at. Liam teases her and calls her a "regular Cordi Jr.", making them both laugh.

Stella then shifts the conversation to the rescue and suggests getting help for the rescue. She starts to explain that she's been collecting resumes but she needs help when Liam interrupts her and says they might not need more help, as he's recently received an offer to buy the horse rescue and he thinks they should take it. They've got it off it's feet now and it helped them both a lot, but it's clear that they're both at a point where they have different priorities. It's time to let it go. Stella asks if Liam is serious and Liam confirms that he is, but that he won't go through with it unless she's okay with it.

"So, what do you say? Should we move on to greener pastures?" he asks, holding a hand out to shake. Stella smiles and shakes, agreeing that it's something to consider.

Scene 2:

Sadie closes the trunk of her van and turns around. The camera pans over to show the farmhouse as August exits the front door. August apologizes and says he just got her text and starts to explain that his graduation party is actually at the main house, but stops talking as he sees what Sadie has.

The camera jumps to show her standing next to a pile of music stuff- August's old things he sold earlier in the season. She presents it all proudly.

August, in disbelief, asks if she really got all his old stuff back and Sadie says she did. She says he shouldn't give up on music. August, still shocked, agrees, saying he was thinking the same thing. He has a lot of decisions to make about school and he was actually thinking of waiting a year to make some money, work on photography and now his music.

Sadie then says she might need a roadie. August, in a different stage of disbelief, asks if she's serious. She nods, saying it's best to make music with people you trust, and that after everything that's happened this year, she trusts him. She says his family.

August thanks her and they hug. He then awkwardly brings up that they're not technically family in that sense and she tells him not to ruin the moment. Besides, they both have places to be. They both laugh and start carrying August's things back inside, where they belong.

Scene 3:

At Ranger HQ. Cordell, in his civilian clothes, enters the bullpen and interrupts Trey at his desk. They fistbump in greeting and refer to each other as "partner".

Trey asks if Cordell is ready to hit the ground running and Cordell explains that while he is excited for everything that's coming next, he's just put in for a leave of absence.

Trey, surprised, asks if everything is okay. Cordell says that it is, or that, at least, he's trying to make it that way. Trey nods in understanding and says he's not going anywhere.

Cordell then notices a sticky note Trey is holding and asks what it's about. Trey hesitates and explains that an old army buddy of his named "Jenny" has been repeatedly calling him and he needs to figure out what it's about. This old buddy of his is the kind of person that will just show up and "it might be a good time, but it's never good news". Cordell laughs and says he knows the type.

Trey then moves the conversation along, saying it's not Cordell's problem and that he should go have a good time with his family, wherever they're going. They laugh and hug as Cordell leaves and he says he'll "see you soon, partner". As Cordell leaves, Trey sits down with a smile on his face.

#walker #season 4 #deleted scenes #s04e01 #the quiet #s04e04 #insane bs and bloodshed #s04e10 #end this way #s04e13 #see you sometime #stella walker #sadie yoo #cassie perez #david luna #liam walker #august walker #trey barnett #cordell walker

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dandelion-delusion · 1 year

Text

Mute Pt.1

I've been with Rick's group since the run to the city when they met Rick and I, we had been in the same hospital room, he'd gotten shot and I had damaged my vocal cords. Together we met a man named Morgan and his son Duane. They informed us about the state of the world and how to keep ourselves safe from the dead roaming the streets.

Even if these people had kept me alive and taught me many valuable skills, I wanted them to stop talking to me about anything and everything. If I was able to speak I would most likely tell them to shut up.

I was helping Lori with the collecting eggs from the chicken coop as she ranted about her life. She shed tears that had been suppressed by the pressure of surviving in this world. I could visibly see the sweat seeping through her skin and her eyes screaming for help, but I can't give it to her, I can't speak. How could she talk to me like she's speaking to a therapist only to have no response? How come she doesn't talk to the man she married? "I hate not knowing," She stated, without giving context, then vomited in an empty bucket on the coop's floor. "No need to worry over that, I can rinse it out later, just the morning sickness," Lori noted. That must be what she meant by "I hate not knowing"?

Once Lori's therapy, and my torture, ended I headed over to the Greene house for a checkup Hershel promised me. I sat down on the bed in a guest room as he looked me over for any major injuries. He sat beside me on the bed and asked me basic "yes" or "no" questions to which I nodded "yes" or "no". "Have you ever been able to speak?" he questioned. I nod and he continued with the questions. "Y/n, does it hurt to use your voice?" I nodded and he excused himself. The Greene's never ranted or tried too hard to keep me in the conversation, but they never made me feel like I wasn't there like the rest of the group did.

After learning that Hershel could only hope that I could get my voice back by adjusting to using it again, I headed to the R.V to clean the guns. I looked up to see Shane stomping in, cursing out Rick quite freely. Eventually he realized he wasn't alone and a look of panic flashed across his face. He looked up to identify the person, and once recognized me, rolled his eyes and continued his rant to himself aloud. He couldn't care less about what he said around me, I wouldn't be able to repeat it to someone else.

Above me, on the roof of the R.V sat Dale, keeping watch. I joined him after finishing with the guns, leaving Shane to talk as he was. A sigh escaped Dale's lips before speaking."There has been no activity all day, you sure it's worth spending your free time up here with me?" I Nodded my head, not bothering to check if he saw it or not.

I didn't come up here to spend time with him, I came up here to enjoy the silence, glad to be a part of it. This is where I went to escape the headache that this group gave me. I felt like when I was up this high up I didn't need to be able to communicate, I was just me, as I was before. myself. The group didn't know me, I was just some girl who was capable of pulling through, incapable of simple speech. To them I was a Nobody.

When I could see the stars in the sky, long after Dale had left for bed I attempted to use my voice. It hurt, like the knife was tearing through my throat all over again, and the sound that I forced out wasn't right. At first I thought there was a walker out here with me, in the dark. It had been so long since I had made a sound that I forgot how it sounded to hear a noise of my own, instead of words from every person who wasn't me.

#twd x teen!reader #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #twd x reader #twd #the walking dead x reader #twd x you

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itsscatballou · 1 year

Text

The End Will Justify It All - Chapter 5

A Negan Series

Chapter 4 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 1

Warnings: adult themes, adult language, rough/slightly violent smut (18+ only)

A/n - my husband got a new video game so my Friday night was wide open to work on this. It's my favorite in the series so far, and I apologize for how long it is. Feedback is welcome! And a quick inspo credit to @green-eyedladywrites - she reblogged this photo of a statue in a sex museum in Korea several weeks ago, which stuck in my brain and brought about this sex scene. I hope you all enjoy! (ps - I was having major keyboard glitches so if there are bad typos I'm sorry!)

Being part of a Savior crew seemed to come naturally to her. It wasn’t a surprise; she’d been part of groups like these before. She’d learned how to work them to her advantage many times over. Simon started her as a grunt, sending her on the errands and tasks no one else really cared to do, but she didn’t mind. Every task gave her more information about the place, another advantage in her planning.

One of the tasks she was assigned was to check on Dwight’s guard team. Dwight and a couple of his guys took shifts guarding Daryl’s cell door or taking him out for his work with the walkers at the gate. She would check in with them a few times a day, bring them meals when they were on duty, and occasionally kept them company for a while. She cherished this task, the chance to be so close to Daryl. She had to force herself not to pay him any attention, but she stole as many glances as she could when his guards weren’t looking.

All the guys in the crew took to her quickly. They began including her in jokes, games, often inviting her for drinks after their shifts. Simon especially seemed to enjoy her company. They soon had a rapport full of banter and laughs. It didn’t take long for her to move out of grunt work, although she suspected being a wife helped her rise in rank, too. No one wanted to be the one sending Negan’s wife on dumb errands and risk his anger. As her status on the crew rose, Simon began asking her advice. Much like Negan with Rick’s group, he was looking for the best ways to exploit the weaknesses of leaders of the communities he collected from. It was unsettling to her how good she was at it. She had always been good at reading people. She’d used that in the past to survive, but this was different. This was no longer survival, this was… dominance. She couldn’t deny there was a part of her that found naming a stranger’s weakness and using it to get what the Saviors wanted somewhat thrilling. The more Simon asked that of her, the better she got at it. It became a point of pride for her amongst the crew. After a few successful runs, Simon started asking her to stay behind. They would spend hours debriefing or discussing the next run, sometimes over drinks.

It was during one of these after collection debriefs with Simon that she noticed a shift in him. She was sitting on the edge of the back of a refrigerated truck where Simon was leaning against it right beside her. They were laughing about one guy that wet his pants when she had gotten in his face, whatever threat she made hitting the nail on the head.

Suddenly Simon wasn’t laughing, he was staring at her. An intense look in his eye, like he’d just seen her for the first time. She squirmed shyly and nudged his arm gently with her shoulder.

“We make a good team, huh?” she grinned at him.

“We do… but I think it’s more you than me.” He replied, nudging her back.

She heard boots crunch in the gravel nearby. She put a hand on Simon’s arm and leaned a little closer as she said in a low voice, “I’m glad Negan put me on your crew.”

A Savior appeared from around the corner of the truck and both she and Simon quickly separated, attempting to look as casual as possible. The Savior stared at them for a moment, seeming to debate saying something. Finally, he informed them, “Negan called a gathering in the warehouse. He wants everyone there, you especially,” he looked at her. “You should find the other wives for this.”

She did as she was told, finding where the wives were standing, and making her way to stand beside Sherry and Amber. Amber looked pale and gaunt. Y/n raised an eyebrow at Sherry to ask what was up with Amber. Sherry jerked her chin to show her. Following the direction Sherry motioned, she saw a handsome guy strapped to a chair, in front of a blazing fire.

Oh no. Mark. Amber’s lover. They’d been stupid – they’d been caught. She’d tried to warn Amber it was a bad idea – Negan only had one rule for the wives: do not cheat on him. She was honestly amazed only Mark sat before the fire now. Someone must have done some convincing to get him to let Amber off… She looked around, seeing Dwight at the fire with the poker – her blood boiled. She already despised him, but the more she learned of him from Sherry, and the more she saw how he treated Daryl, her dislike had transitioned to blind hate. Her eyes moved from Dwight to the person beside him and she nearly gasped when her eyes met Daryl’s. They locked eyes and she instinctively began to move toward him.

She was stopped short as Negan entered then, walking forward to talk to the crowd. She didn’t hear a word he said, though, as she saw who came in behind him. The Sherriff’s hat gave him away first, and her heart stopped. Why was Carl here? When had he gotten here? Had Negan taken him?

Her eyes shot to Daryl, and she found him still looking at her. What the fuck? She mouthed at him. He subtly shook his head, and she turned her attention back to Carl, willing him to look at her. His face changed at something Negan was doing, she felt Sherry move to Amber and saw her embrace her, so she turned her attention back to the spectacle. Dwight was pulling the hot iron from the fire and Negan was gloving his hands to take it.

She couldn’t let this happen. Mark and Amber had been dumb, but they didn’t deserve this. Amber was not the strongest, she wouldn’t handle this well at all. And Carl… Carl didn’t need to see this. How could she stop it?

She didn’t know what drove her to do it, barely registered her own voice as she called to Negan, “wait!” He put his outstretched hand down and looked at her, fury building behind his eyes at the public challenge. If she shut up and sank back now, he’d probably let this go. That would be the smart thing to do. She felt all eyes on her as her body did the exact opposite and she found herself standing in between Mark and Negan. Idiot. What are you doing?

“I’ll take it. Burn me instead.” She heard some gasps and murmurs from the crowd. She refused to look at Daryl, who was no doubt readying to fight off every Savior in this building for her.

Negan tilted his head as he asked, “Now why would you do that? Why would I do that?”

“Mark is an incredible shot, way better than I’ll ever be, and very valuable to his crew. If you burn him, he’ll be down healing for weeks, and you’ll be lucky if his aim is ever the same going that close to his eye” she pointed at Dwight’s scarred eyed. “I’m barely more than a grunt. If I’m down a few weeks, the worst that happens is Fat Joey doesn’t get his sandwich delivered and he has to go get it himself.” Some guys chuckled behind her.

She could feel the crowd lean in, could feel their pity, and their gratitude – Mark was beloved by a lot of these people. He was a good guy, that’s why Amber liked him so much. And she’d made good points – his crew needed him. They were already short-handed with the redistribution of men following Rick’s massacre at the satellite station. Losing another one from their barebones crew would hurt. They would not be happy about it.

“That’s so very noble of you, sweetheart,” Negan cooed at her. “But what lesson would that teach Mark? How is he going to learn the importance of following the rules if someone else can just step in and take his consequences?’

After a long pause, Negan reached again for the hot iron and added, “and your face is plenty hot enough as it is.”

Someone grabbed her arm and pulled her back to the crowd as Negan advanced toward Mark. She stumbled back with them, and as the screaming started, she turned and left. She could feel the rage of the crowd behind her as she exited. She walked until she reached Negan’s apartment and sat down against the wall outside his door to wait.

She didn’t have to wait long before Negan and Carl approached. She stood as they neared Negan’s door and gave Carl a hard look.

“Carl,” Negan drawled, “I don’t believe you have met my new wife!” Carl scowled at her at the realization.

“Negan, could I speak to you?” she asked him, glancing at Carl pointedly, “privately?”

“As much as I would love a little romp in the sack with you, I am a little busy right now.”

“Negan.”

He moved closer to her, a cat on the prowl. “I said not right now.” He leaned in close enough to whisper in her ear. “I’ll find you later. I have some things to discuss with you too.” His breath on her neck tickled, causing goosebumps to rise. He gently kissed the area, and she saw Carl tense and clench his fist. Negan left her in the hall, leading Carl into his room.

Frustrated, and still confused about Carl being here, she stomped back to her room to wait.

-----

Her time with Negan since the night he held her while she cried in her room had been, well, confusing. He called her to dinner again the following night and they played their question game again, both seeming to ask more interesting questions about the other. She’d learned a lot about him that night, his softer side. It surprised her. She’d also been given a gift, a “reward” he’d called it for such good information about Rick.

“Anything thing you want, ask. A new, badass gun? A bottle of the whiskey we took from Hilltop? Name it. I am in a giving mood, and you earned a good gift,” he’d told her, flirtatiously but genuine enough.

“Do I have to name it right now, or can I think on it a bit?” she’d asked.

“My generosity does have limitations, but you can take the rest of dinner to think on it.”

After dinner, and a few shots later for each of them, she’d chosen what she would ask for.

“I know what I’d like my reward to be,” she declared after he downed his 4th shot, dodging a question about his love life before the old world fell. He smiled at her and nodded in invitation to ask.

“I would like…” she said, drawing it out to tease him a little. The three shots of Whiskey she’d taken had her in a playful mood. He raised an eyebrow suggestively at her. “Oh, you wish,” she fired back. “No. Nothing like that. What I’d like is, well... 5 free questions. I let you know when one of my questions will be the free pass, and you have to answer, 100% truthfully, with no option to back out by taking a shot.”

She quickly saw the loophole in her request so she added, “and I can use them whenever I want, no time limits.” She replayed her words in her head, making sure they were airtight. She felt like she was dealing with a genie from a fairytale.

Negan studied her, a mix of pleasant surprise and something else behind his eyes. “I will give you 3.”

She grinned at him, about to agree when he added, “but I get 3 of the same.”

“Wha- how is that a gift if you get it too?” she whined back.

“Because the gift is from me, and those are my conditions. If you’d like to change your choice to that gun or something a little more… intimate, I will allow it.” He bit his lip, and something in her heated. Stupid whiskey.

She knew it wasn’t a good idea, it was risky to commit to that. But the thought of him having to answer her with no possibility to back out was too tempting to pass up. She prayed the reward would be worth this risk.

“Deal.” This was the second deal she’d made with the devil in a week.

The following nights were unpredictable. She wasn’t invited back for dinner for a few nights, and by the third, she felt unnerved by it. Not afraid, just... bored. On those nights she’d make her way down and usually found Simon eating outside by a fire, where she’d sit and drink and talk with him until she felt tired enough or tipsy enough to go to bed.

The nights she did have dinner with Negan were the same: eat, questions, drink. Sometimes she’d ask to play a boardgame, and they’d continue their game of questions over Scrabble (which she always won and let him hear about it).

One night, after a brutal placement of the word “quiz,” she used her first free question.

“Negan,” she approached it gently. He looked up from his scrabble tiles with curiosity. She didn’t use his name often. “I’d like to use my first free question.”

He slowly grinned at her. “Alright,” he agreed, “let me finish my drink first. I’m sure I’ll need it.” And he downed the remainder of his whiskey in one go. “Okay, shoot.”

“We’ve had a lot of these dinners together,” she prefaced, “and at our first one, you said as a wife I would have to perform ‘wifely duties.’” She paused.

“There a question in there?” he teased her.

She took a deep breath, suddenly nervous to ask this. “Well, you haven’t, um… touched me. At all. You haven’t even asked to… so I guess my question is, why not?”

Negan chuckled. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. It’s not your looks, if that’s your concern.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head at him. He knew that wasn’t what she was asking.

“Fine. No, I haven’t tried or asked, but it isn’t because I don’t want to.” He winked at her. “In fact, I want to so bad it drives me crazy when you leave here at night. None of my other wives leave here until I’m satisfied… but I knew from the night you came in here and told me to make Rick hold Lucille that you wouldn’t be like my other wives.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, encouraging him to continue.

“You’re different. I want it to be different with you. I told you before, I have enough obedient dogs. So as badly as I want it, I will not touch you until you want it too. And trust me, darlin’, you will want it,” he purred in that Negan arrogance.

She would never want it, she told herself. She told herself so many times she started dreaming it. But no matter how much she told herself she would never want it; it didn’t stop a part of her from heating every time she thought of those words.

She was invited back the next night, where instead of their typical drinking game of questions, Negan upped the ante with a rousing game of strip questions. If they didn’t answer a question, they had to remove an item of clothing.

She was thanking her lucky stars she’d come straight to dinner from a collection with her crew, so she had a lot more clothing on than she normally would at dinner.

With such high stakes, the questions got very personal. “Where is the craziest place you’ve ever fucked?” started it off, and it moved into first loves, worst heartbreaks, hardest kills, and eventually biggest fears. They were both on the couch, him sitting a little too close to her, and both down to their underthings when he used his first free question.

“Free card question,” he stated, leaning a little closer to her. He kissed her bare shoulder, and it sent goosebumps down her arm. Tracing circles with his finger where his lips just were, he asked in a growly tone, “why did you really volunteer to come back with me that night in the woods?”

Uh oh. She sent a silent thank you up to whoever was listening for not being three shots deep into this game. She paused a minute, what could she tell him?

“What?” she flirted, buying some time to think, “you don’t think you impressed me enough for me to want to go with you?”

“No,” he replied, still tracing circles on her shoulder. “I knew when the words left your mouth it wasn’t true. I’ve been trying since then to figure out why you’re here. I thought maybe it was to spy, help Rick take us down from the inside. But you’ve proven to be working against him, and other communities, over and over since then.” She cringed inside at that. Had she gotten that bad? “Then I thought, maybe you were just biding your time to get close enough to kill me. And that could still be true, but the way your body is reacting to my every touch right now, I am doubting it. So, I’d like to know now, what was your reason?”

Think, y/n. Think. It had to be believable. She obviously couldn’t tell him the truth. She feigned a little nervousness, hoping it sold her story.

“I… well…I wanted to kill Dwight,” there was plenty of truth in that. “Honestly, I still wouldn’t mind doing it. I thought my best bet was to get inside here with him.”

He waited for her to continue. “He killed the girl I was seeing. The doctor in Alexandria. Shot her through the eye with Daryl’s crossbow.”

“Wow,” Negan replied. “You play for both teams? I did not see that coming!” He laughed. “I will remember that for our future. As for Dwight… well, I don’t hold a special place in my heart for him, but I’d like him to stay alive for the time being. If or when that changes, you will be the first to know.”

He seemed satisfied with her lie.

“I’m glad it wasn’t to kill me,” he purred, leaning into her neck, “I think you would have missed things you don’t want to miss…” his hand found her knee and began slowly trailing from up her thigh. His lips found skin again, this time on a tender part of her neck.

No, no, no, no. She thought, though her body was responding differently. She franticly searched for any sort of distraction to stop where this was headed. Her eyes scanned the room, anything to ask about, to suddenly find fascinating enough she needed to look at. Then she saw it, leaned against the wall under a window.

“I have a question now. A free one.”

“Mmhmm?” he moaned out, still kissing her neck in a way that was making her quiver.

“Lucille,” she said, putting a hand against his chest and pushing a bit. “Where did you get the name?”

He froze, his lips no longer on her skin. He didn’t seem to breathe for several long seconds. Then he was standing, putting on his pants, and walking toward the door.

“We’re done here,” he said firmly, holding the door open for her.

She stared in shock for a moment, and when it was clear he was not joking, she quickly grabbed her clothes and fled his room.

That was the last time she’d seen him, until now, with Carl in tow. It had been days, maybe a week. What she’d thought was an innocent question had really struck a nerve.

-----

Negan didn’t send for her until late in the evening. She’d had supper already, a bath, and was about to settle into bed with a book when the guard knocked on her door. She didn’t bother dressing up, she decided her leggings and cropped sweatshirt would be just fine if he was pulling her out of bed. She had half a mind to tell him he could see her at a decent hour tomorrow, but she desperately wanted to know what was going on with Carl.

She didn’t knock when she got there, she just walked right in, to find him sitting on the couch with a drink in one hand, and the other hand dragging down his face in exhaustion.

“Long day?” she quipped, looking around for any sign of the Grimes boy.

“You could say that,” he replied, humorless.

She decided not to waste any time with flirting or working up to her questions.

“Where is Carl?” she demanded.

He stared at her, and she was not sure he was going to answer her at all when he finally said, “he’s back home with daddy and baby Grimes, safe and sound.”

Relief washed over her. “What was he doing here?”

Negan chuckled. “He was here to kill me. You weren’t lying when you said the kid was reckless. I like the little bastard.”

“He just showed up to kill you?” she asked, surprised but not shocked. It was a very Carl thing to do.

“He snuck in on a supply truck earlier today. Killed two of our guards before we got to him.”

She didn’t let her face show the pride she felt. “And you just let him go?” she accused.

“I don’t think you’re in any position to question anything I do,” he replied angrily.

“What the hell does that mean?” she challenged. He’d shut her out and ignored her for a week now, she’d lost any desire to filter her annoyance with him.

“I think you know exactly what it means.”

She glared at him, at a loss. What was he accusing her of?

“Tell me,” he said, standing up and taking a few slow steps toward her. “How many people were you screwing in Alexandria?”

“What?” she asked, incredulous.

“Carl seemed real pissed when he learned you were my wife. I just wonder how many people in Alexandria you went through before coming here to expand your selection. Rick, obviously. Your little girlfriend, who else? The redhead? The mullet guy? Spencer? Yeah, I met that douche bag today. Is there anyone else I should know about? I hear you’ve gotten mighty friendly with Simon. Practically throwing himself yourself at him, touching all over him, going to him every night, not days after licking your lips and batting your lashes at me. Anyone here you got your eye on?”

She heard a slap, Negan’s face turned abruptly to the side, she felt a sting in her palm, and a redness began spreading across his cheek.

She’d slapped him. Shit, she’d slapped him.

She bit down the terror of the realization – she’d seen very bad things happen to people who’d done a lot less to him. She willed her face into a rebellious glare, daring him to retaliate, promising hell if he did.

Negan’s stare was just as hateful, never breaking eye contact as he rubbed his cheek and flexed his jaw. Suddenly he sprang toward her, his hand was on her throat, and he was shoving her backwards, she could barely keep upright they were moving so fast. Her back slammed against the concrete wall. Negan’s face was within an inch of hers, she could feel his warm breath on her mouth as he growled, “that. will. not. happen. again,” pausing on each word like a forceful bite. She was prying at his hand with both hands, trying to loosen his grip enough that she could take a breath, refusing to show him the panic rising in her.

He let his grip loosen a bit. “Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she breathed out as she gasped to fill her lungs again. He did not remove his hand from her throat or yield even a centimeter to her. He continued to stare daggers into her eyes, but there was something other than anger behind them. What is that?

Desire, she realized. Animalistic desire. It was then she noticed just how close their bodies were, his hips pinning hers in place against the wall, her feet barely touching the floor. She could feel his growing erection pressing into her. She felt a tingle in her core, her body betraying her. Her breath suddenly felt heavy, her chest heaving against his. An image of their naked chests pressed together flashed in her mind, it was as if she could already feel his bare skin. Did she really want this? From him? After all he’d done? She knew she shouldn’t, but with him pressed against her, hand still on her throat, and looking at her like that… she couldn’t deny the desire growing in her, verging dangerously close to need.

He must have read that on her face, because suddenly Negan’s mouth was on hers, crushing her lips with his, his scruff scraping her chin and cupids bow as he sucked, unrelenting. His tongue began forcefully pushing against her lips, like a battering ram, demanding entrance. She conceded. He tasted her mouth like he was eating for the first time in a week - hungrily, greedily, but savoring the taste of each section of her mouth he explored. Then she was kissing him back, just as greedily – no, angrily. It became not a dance of lovers, but a battle of opponents. His tongue pushed, hers pushed back in turn. Her lips sucked, he fought for dominance with his. She bit – not gently- down on his bottom lip and slowly dragged against his lip until it was free. He pulled away from her face at that and his eyes met hers, amusement dancing in them now. He’d met his match. He grinned at the realization.

Their noisy, shallow breaths filled the otherwise silent room, awakening her from the trance his tongue had put her in. She fought to stay above the fog, forcing herself to remember the things he’d done, to remember Daryl, but the memories would not come. All there was in this moment was him - his body, and hers. His dark eyes held her stare a moment longer, and then they were closed, and his lips were crushing hers again. His hands began lifting her sweatshirt from around her waist, his fingers trailing up her stomach. He explored with gentle fingertips, caressing up and down her sides, his knuckles grazing across her lower abdomen, leaving no patch of skin untouched, a trail of goosebumps in their wake. As his hands creeped up her torso, his touch became fiercer. He reached her breasts, found them bare under her shirt, and groaned into her mouth as each hand took a full palm of breast and began massaging. He was not gentle, but she did not pull away. He backed away from her only enough to allow room to remove her shirt and expose her fully. His lips were back on hers in an instant, no less demanding than before. They moved to her neck, and she felt one of her traitorous hands move to the back of his head, tangling her fingers in his short hair. She hadn’t planned on encouraging this, but she gripped his hair harder as he his trailed his lips down her chest, finding a breast and softly biting down. An involuntary moan purred in her throat. He moved to her nipple and began a rough pattern of sucking and biting, causing the heat between her legs to flare.

Again, it was as if he read her mind, as he worked her breast with his mouth, he quickly pulled down her leggings, taking her underwear with them. She was thankful she had not put on shoes to come here tonight, providing no obstacle to kicking out of her pants as he sank to his knees and began moving his lips down her stomach. Further.

“Jump,” Negan growled against her stomach.

“Wh- what?” she barely stuttered out.

“Jump.”

She hopped slightly, then she was being lifted her by her backside, her thighs placed on either side of his head, her bodyweight now shared between the wall and his shoulders. He did not waste time kissing those thighs, or staring lustfully, or slowly working his way to her center. Hungrily, almost angrily, he dove straight for her, parting her lips with his fingers to make way for his tongue. He lapped at her liked a parched animal at water, and found she was just as wet. She arched away from the wall in response. His warm tongue hitting her clit at every angle as it moved. He sucked, and her eyes rolled back in her head as she cried out. Both hands now in his hair, gripping in response to each flick of his tongue, encouraging his rough movements. She rode his face, rolling her hips, her thighs unapologetically pressing in on his head. She wouldn’t last much longer; she could feel her climax building quickly. Now his tongue was at her entrance, teasing as he gently licked around it. She pushed his head into her, needing him to be inside her, desperate to be filled and to find release. He plunged his tongue in, flatting it as he found the underside of her clit, and slowly dragged it back out and up, never breaking contact. He plunged in again with no pause. Dragging, plunging, dragging, plunging. He worked her with expert pressure, she was all but screaming at the sensation. On the last slow drag of her clit, he swept up as he exited, an unrelenting pressure on her sensitive bud, sending her orgasm exploding through her. She threw her head back and did not recognize the noise that escaped her open mouth as she came against his face. He lightly flicked his tongue against her until he was sure she had fully completed.

Before she knew it was happening, she was back on the floor, and he was walking away from her.

“You’re dismissed,” was all he said as he moved to open the door.

She gathered her clothes – she would need to have a word with him about this new habit of sending her from his room undressed – and made for the door. She paused in front of him and turned to meet his eyes, letting him see a twinge of hurt in them.

“Since you asked, and I am counting this as one of your free questions, I did not sleep with Rick or anyone else in Alexandria. And I have about as much romantic interest in Simon as you do,” and with that she made her way back to her room, naked but not caring who saw her.

Back in the dorm, she raced to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before vomiting. Sherry must have heard her, because moments later she was sitting beside her, holding her hair back. Sherry sat with her until she was finished, and then let her lay her head in Sherry’s lap while Sherry stroked her hair.

She didn’t cry. She didn’t shake. She wasn’t traumatized. She hated herself. She hated herself because she knew then she didn’t hate Negan, and she didn’t hate what they’d just done. She hated herself because she wanted more.

It’s time, she vowed to herself, tomorrow we leave, even if we have to burn this place to the ground to get out.

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