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biggerbetterbat · 1 month

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WITH YOU II | [2] WHAT HAPPENED IN THE LORD’s HOUSE

Daryl Dixon x OC!Charlie Reed

Summary: The group’s happiness ends with scary events that fate brings at them. Charlie has to say goodbye to her friends and that brings her attention to what happens to her.

Warnings: language, killing walkers, death

Song

Words: 6.214

A/N: Hello! It’s a second chapter in part 2! Soon, the action will be more dynamic and we will jump to my favorite seasons. I hope you like this chapter, and if you do then like, comment and share! Enjoy :)

Two feelings dominated her at the moment. Charlie sat alone on the floor, her thoughts consumed by a sense of regret. She was worried about Bob, feeling angry that she left him alone in the dark, while she should have waited for him and help him if he needed. At the same time, she knew that Bob probably saved her life, because she could have been the missing one right now, if he never followed her outside.

Which was only making all of it worse.

And there was also disappointment. It wasn't the first time Dary had disappeared without a word, leaving behind a trail of unanswered questions and unspoken promises. Their friendship had always been a delicate balance—a dance between loyalty and uncertainty, trust and doubt. She knew he wanted to rescue Beth from whatever, and bring her back home - to them. And yet, despite his understanding, Charlie couldn't shake the sting of disappointment that lingered in the air like a bitter aftertaste.

Charlie's mind wandered to Beth. As she sat alone in dimly lit church, the memories of Beth flooded her mind. She remembered how they first met on the farm, Beth had approached her with a warm smile and a kind word - she was always approaching everyone like this. Charlie's mind drifted back to that fateful day. She remembered the hollow emptiness in Beth's eyes, as she was talking about death. Of course, Andrea said it was her, who saved Beth; however, Charlie liked to think that her words were the those who kept Beth alive.

As time passed and their paths diverged, Charlie had allowed the distance to grow between them. Was it a lack of communication? A failure to understand one another's needs and desires? Charlie's selfishness?

"What happened to her?" she asked Maggie who was sitting next to her. "Beth."

"Daryl said they were running from the herd and she was taken," she answered.

"Taken?"

"By a car with a white cross on the back," she said. "But he doesn't know if she's still alive."

Charlie looked at Maggie, and tried not to show the skeptical glint in them. Maybe all of the above were the reasons why she hadn't even noticed the lack of bright presence of Beth, once the group reunited. Or maybe, Charlie already buried her in her mind, thinking she died in the prison. So maybe even now, Beth was already dead in her mind.

"You shall not give up faith," said Gabriel and placed his hand on her shoulder. Charlie jumped, not expecting such contact, looking up with furrowed brows.

"What could you possibly know?" she answered. "You've been alone here for this whole time."

"I wasn't alone," Gabe said. "God was with me."

"Great," Charlie muttered under her nose.

"I know it's hard, but we have to keep going," he said. "We can't afford to give up hope."

"What do you want, Father?"

"I just noticed you seemed... troubled. Is everything okay?"

"Everything's just dandy," Charlie scoffed. "Especially knowing you're lurking around."

"I get it," he nodded without any offense. "You don't trust me."

"Why would I trust you?" she looked at him. "Because you're the priest? I don't know you, and you didn't give me a reason to trust you."

"We're all the creation of the same Master," he answered. "We must hold onto faith. Faith in something greater than us, in ourselves, and each other."

"Or else what? What if we doubt?" Charlie asked. "We will all burn for this?"

Father Gabriel swallowed hard, a lump forming in his throat as he grasped the weight of Charlie's accusations. She observed his reaction intently, searching for any hint of guilt or deception in his eyes. Sensing the scrutiny, Father Gabriel rose abruptly from his seat and strode away, his intended task abruptly interrupted by the confrontation.

"Stop. What are you doing?" angry Sasha commanded, as she stormed into the church. "This is all connected. You show up, we're being watched, and now three of us are gone!"

"I don't have anything to..."

"Where are our people?!" she screamed and pushed him. Father Gabriel stood before her, his expression a mask of calm despite the storm of emotions raging within him.

"Please, I don't have anything to do with this," he said softly, reaching out a hand in a gesture of peace. His gaze never wavered, his eyes reflecting a deep well of sorrow and understanding.

Rick's instincts kicked into overdrive as he watched Sasha, stepping forward and blocked the angry woman's way, protecting Gabriel from potential injury. As he pulled her away, a surge of something dark and primal washed over Rick—an anger so sudden and consuming that it threatened to swallow him entirely. His muscles tensed, his jaw clenched. Charlie had known Rick for some time now, she had watched his transformations from lost husband and father, to dictator, to farmer. But in that moment, as Rick loomed over Gabriel with a menacing glare, she could sense something different than just leadership —a darkness lurking beneath the surface, waiting to be unleashed. Just how Carl was talking her about.

With almost a primal grunt, he took Gabriel by his collar. "What are you gonna burn for, Gabriel? What did you do?!"

"I lock the doors at night. I...always lock the door at night," the priest cried suddenly. His voice so thin and panicked due to Rick's outburst. "They started coming, my congregation. Atlanta was bombed the night before and they were scared. They were...They were looking for a safe place, a place where they felt safe. And it was so early. It was so early. And the doors were still locked," he said. "You see...it was my choice. There were so many of them, and they were trying to pry the shutters and banging on the sidings, screaming at me. And so the dead came for them," he confessed. "Women...children. Entire families calling my name as they were torn apart, begging me for mercy. Damning me to hell," one more sob left his lips as he relieved the memory. "I buried their bones. I buried it all. The Lord sent you here to finally punish me," he finally said and as Rick's grip loosened, Gabriel dropped to the ground and entered some kind of trance. "I'm damned. I always lock the doors."

Charlie felt a chill going down her back, as she couldn't shake the image of him standing there in the church, his hands stained with the blood of those he had sworn to protect. She didn't trust him from the beginning, thinking that he was the bad guy. But now, as the truth of his betrayal came to light, she felt a wave of disgust wash over her—a sickening realization that the man was nothing more than a coward and a traitor. How could he, she wondered, how could he betray the trust of his congregation, forsake his sacred vows, and abandon those who had looked to him for salvation, those who trusted him? The thought made her stomach churn with revulsion, a bitter taste of betrayal lingering on her tongue.

However, hadn't she done the same thing? Lurked people who trusted her to a place that was supposed to be safe, and then run, letting them die.

From her thoughts she was taken by the whistling. Not any whistling, a special melody that once almost made her go crazy.

"There's someone outside lying in the grass," Glenn reported.

The sight that greeted the group outside the church was enough to turn their stomachs. Bob lay crumpled on the ground, his face contorted in agony, white cloth wrapped around the place his leg should be, turning red. Sasha cried and the group was fast to get Bob inside of the church; however, the Walkers were taunted by the smell of blood, appearing from behind the bushes.

Charlie's anger ignited like a flame, burning hot and fierce within her chest. Every swing of her weapon was fueled by the rage that burned within her—the anger at Daryl for his absence, at Gabriel for his betrayal, at the people who had hurt Bob, and at herself for the sins of her past that came back to her once again. Each blow struck with the force of her pent-up emotions, a release in the face of overwhelming despair.

But amidst the chaos, a sudden shoot echoed through the air. Rick was quick to react. "Get inside!"

Charlie's hands trembled as she drove the blade of her knife into the skull of the walker, again and again, long after it had dropped to the ground and stopped being any danger to anyone. The sound of gunfire echoed in the distance, a grim reminder of the dangers that lurked beyond the safety of their makeshift sanctuary. But Charlie paid it no mind, her vision blurred by a haze of emotion as she fought to drown out the chaos that raged around her.

With each thrust of her weapon, she felt a fragment of her anger slip away, replaced by a numbness that spread through her like a wave. She no longer saw the walkers as mindless corpses, but as symbols of her own inner demons—monsters that she could kill with the sharp edge of her blade.

"Hey! Hey. He's already dead," Rosita said and pushed her body up holding her arms. "He's dead. And if we won't move...we will be too," she looked her in the eyes and forced Charlie to get inside the church.

"Somebody knocked me out," confessed Bob, and it was the first thing Charlie heard after entering the church. "I woke up outside this place...it looked like a school. It was that guy, Gareth."

Charlie glanced at Rick, unaware of Gareth's identity. She speculated that he might be someone from Terminus, perhaps as nice as the man they had encountered in the shed. However, Rick's reaction betrayed his knowledge, his expression changing into one of fear and fury.

"They were eating my leg right in front of me," Bob said. "Like it was nothing. They couldn't do that back there, so they were so proud. Thinking that they have all figured out."

"Did they have Daryl and Carol?"

"Gareth said they drove off."

Charlie's heart sank as the news of Daryl's departure with Carol reached her ears. A profound sense of betrayal washed over her, mingling with the ache of abandonment that gnawed at her insides. She had trusted Daryl, relied on him as an ally, and now, to learn that he had left without a word, left her feeling as though the ground had been ripped out from beneath her feet. One thing was certain—no matter the reason, the sting of his departure would linger long after he was gone, a bitter reminder of the fragility of trust and the scars left behind by those we hold most dear.

She looked with a heavy heart at the man on the ground and that's when she saw it. Missing flesh from his shoulder. Bob was bitten...Shock coursed through her veins, freezing her in place as she struggled to comprehend the cruel twist of fate that had befallen her friend. Fear gripped her, tendrils of dread snaking their way around her chest as she grappled with the harsh reality of their situation - Bob's tragic fate.

Her heart broke one more time.

With gentle hands and heavy hearts, the group carefully lifted Bob's limp form, cradling him as though he were made of fragile glass. Charlie led the solemn procession, as she guided them to a secluded room - where Bob could rest and not hear about their master plan, at least for the time they were making it. They laid him down upon a bed of blankets and pillows, arranging his belongings with care beside him.

"Time for reality check," Abraham said. "We all need to leave for DC right now."

"Daryl and Carol are gonna be back," Rick said.

"I respect that, but there's a clear threat here to Eugene," he said. "I need to extract his ass before things get any uglier. So if y'all won't come, good luck to you. We'll go our separate ways."

Tension crackled in the air like static electricity as Rick and Abraham stood face to face, their expressions locked in a silent battle of wills. Abraham's eyes burned with a fierce determination, his jaw set in a stubborn line as he squared off against Rick. Who, on the other hand, radiated a quiet intensity, his gaze unwavering as he met Abraham's challenge head-on. His fists clenched at his sides.

In the midst of the chaotic yet sipent battle between Rick and Abraham, Charlie seized the opportune moment of distraction. With a swift movement, she pulled Eugene close to her, his startled eyes meeting hers in wide-eyed bewilderment. Pressing the barrel of her gun firmly against his temple, she felt a surge of adrenaline course through her veins, her heart pounding in her chest with the weight of her actions.

They heard a click of a gun and turned around, seeing Eugene almost crying from fear. Without hesitation, Abraham held his gun up and pointed at Charlie.

"Don't shoot!" Glenn yelled both at Abraham and his best friend.

"Charlie," Rick said.

"Stop right now," she commanded. "We're in this together. So you will help us and wait, or you won't have a reason to go to DC."

"Eugene's mission is too important," Abraham said firmly.

"Then you leave us no choice," she said. "We'll take Eugene with us."

"You threaten me?"

"I'm giving you a choice," she said. "Eugene's life is in your hands."

"You lay a finger on him, and I swear..."

"You'll what? Shoot me?" Charlie scoffed. "Go ahead."

Abraham's grip tightens on the gun, his expression torn between duty and sympathy. He stood amidst the palpable tension, his mind raced with a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and emotions. He thought of the road they had traveled together, the trials they had faced, and the bonds they had forged in short time. But amidst the memories, a nagging voice whispered in the back of his mind—a voice that urged him to break free, to strike out on his own in search of a life untethered by the constraints of duty and obligation.

Glenn's frantic pleas cut through the haze of his thoughts, pulling him back to the present with a jolt. The urgency in Glenn's voice was unmistakable, his eyes wide with fear and desperation as he implored Abraham to lay down his weapon. "Let's calm down."

"If you stay just one more day and help, I'll shut the hell up and go with you to DC. And I'll never question your decisions. No matter what," Charlie said.

"After what you just did, you're not getting close to Eugene without my permission!" he yelled. "There's no way I'm letting you go with us. I want Glenn, Maggie, and Tara."

"No way," Rick shook his head.

"We will go with you," Glenn agreed immediately.

"Glenn, no."

"This is not your call," he said angry and then he turned back to Abraham. "You stay...you help.

With a heavy sigh, Abraham lowered his weapon, the tension in his shoulders easing as the grip of his anger and frustration. Glenn's relief was palpable, as he reached out a hand to clasp Abraham's in a gesture of solidarity.

"Dammit," the ginger muttered under his nose. "12 hours. Then we go."

"Charlie let him go," Glenn told his friend.

She released the grip she had on the man, hands shaking and feeling tired by her own actions, and pushed him slightly. "But I will shoot if you try to break the deal."

"And I will shoot if you try this again," Abraham warned her and passed without a word.

In the dim confines of the room, silence hung heavy like a suffocating shroud. They waited with bated breath, the tension in the air palpable as they strained their ears for any sign of movement outside. Every creak of the floorboards, every rustle of fabric, sent shivers down their spines. It only intensified, once they heard steps and creaking of the floor, each of them tried to manage their feelings on their own.

Rosita's boredom was palpable, her restless energy vibrating in the air like a live wire. Her fingers tapping impatiently against her thigh as she struggled to contain her frustration. Carl fidgeted with his weapon, his eyes darting restlessly around the room as he longed for the opportunity to confront their enemies. Gabriel, on the other hand, was a picture of fear and resignation, his hands clasped tightly in prayer as he sought solace in the familiar rituals of his faith. And then there was Bob, lying m on the bed, his body weakened by the bite of the undead.

As the footsteps drew nearer, their anxiety reached a fever pitch, the air thick with anticipation and dread. Especially Eugene, who was on a verge of crying. And then, with a sinking feeling in the pit of their stomachs, they heard the voices—cold and calculating, filled with malice and intent.

"Well, I guess you know that we're here," the man said. "And we know...you're here. We're armed. So there's really no point in hiding anymore. We've been watching you. We know who's here," he said. "There's Bob...and Eugene...Rosita...Martin's good friends Tyreese...and Charlie...Carl...Judith," he was counting them down, and a chill ran down Charlie's spine. Also, Charlie looked at Tyreese as she was shocked that the guy from the shed was alive. "Rick and the rest walked out with a lot of your guns. This is a big place! Let's stop now, before things get painful."

"You're behind one of these two doors, and we have more than enough firepower to take down both," once again Gareth spoke. "Can't imagine that's what you all want."

The guy was talking too much. Charlie wanted to kill herself right there right now so she wouldn't have to listen to his annoying voice. If that was supposed to scare them? It wasn't working...Maybe a little, but it was just due to the fact that she knew what they were capable of.

"How about the priest?" Gareth asked. "Father, you help us wrap this up, we'll let you walk away from this."

The first mistake they made, entering the room: forgetting not to trust the priest. They focused so much on everything around that they forgot that Gabriel was a coward, who let the whole community get killed for his safety. They should have at least tie him and put something in his mouth.

"You can take the baby with you. What do you say?" he taunted the priest.

Charlie's gaze flickered towards Gabriel, her expression hardened by the gravity of their situation. With a silent determination, she shifted her gun, its barrel now aimed squarely at him, a silent warning to remain quiet. Her eyes bore into his, a silent plea for compliance as she conveyed her message without a word. It was better to be safe than sorry.

But then someone else opened their mouth. Judith started crying out of nowhere, the sound of her voice seemed even louder in the silence of the night.

But then, as if from out of the darkness itself, a sudden commotion erupted beyond the closed doors—conversation that shattered the oppressive silence like a thunderclap. Charlie's breath caught in her throat, her senses heightened as she strained to discern the source of the disturbance. Panic surged within the group, their eyes wide with fear and confusion as they exchanged frantic glances, their minds racing with a thousand unanswered questions. And then, amidst the chaos, a piercing screams tore through the air—a sound so raw and primal that it sent shivers down their spines. It was a cry of agony, of despair, a haunting lament that echoed long after it had faded into the darkness.

Tyreese cautiously pushed open the doors, a wave of dread washed over him, freezing him in his tracks. Charlie, standing close behind, felt her heart lurch at the sight that greeted them—a scene of carnage and horror. Blood spattered the walls in grotesque patterns, the metallic scent thick in the air as it mingled with the stench of death. Corpses littered the floor like discarded dolls, their lifeless eyes staring blankly into the abyss, their bodies contorted in the final throes of agony. Charlie's breath caught in her throat, her stomach churning with disgust as she took in the scene before her. It was a scene straight from her worst nightmares, a nightmare made real in the dim confines of the room.

As Charlie's gaze met Rick's, a chill raced down her spine at the unsettling glint she saw in his eyes. He placed his hand - covered in blood, just like everything else, on her shoulder as he hugged her slightly, and Charlie tensed her body. The group passed her as if nothing had happened and Charlie's eyes then locked with Maggie's, Glenn's, and Tara's in a fleeting moment of connection. Their eyes held a quiet resolve, a steadfast determination to protect those he loved at any cost.

"This is the Lord's house," she heard Gabriel saying, barely holding on.

"No," Maggie said. "It's just four walls and a roof."

It was a sunny day, giving hope after last night terrors. However, their hope was rather crushed and destroyed to pieces with the prospect of saying goodbye. She entered the room that became empty as she was the last person to talk to Bob.

Bob lay on the simple cot, his breaths shallow and labored. His body was wracked with pain, the effects of the walker's bite spreading through his veins like wildfire. His eyes, once bright with life, now held a distant gaze as he fought against the inevitable.

"Charlie," Bob cooed and smiled. She managed a weak smile, though pain. Charlie moved closer, taking a seat beside the bed. She reached out, gently clasping Bob's hand in her own, the gesture a silent offering of comfort. "What's with that face?"

"It's just...hard to accept," Charlie confessed, searching for his eyes. "I'm sorry, Bob," she murmured, her voice choked with emotion. "I wish there was something I could do."

Bob squeezed Charlie's hand weakly, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes. "You coming here to say goodbye is enough," he whispered. "Thank you for everything."

Tears welled in Charlie's eyes as she struggled to find the right words. She shook her head. "You've been a good friend, Bob," she said hoarsely. "I'll never forget you."

Bob managed a faint chuckle, though it quickly dissolved into a coughing fit. Charlie leaned in, offering support as Bob struggled to catch his breath. When the fit passed, Bob's breathing was even more labored, his strength fading with each passing moment. He smiled weakly. "You have to promise me something."

"Just name it."

"Promise me you'll keep fighting. Promise me you won't let this world crush your spirit. Do it not just for me...but for Luke."

"What?"

"I knew it was you," he said. "He showed me a picture once. He was carrying it everywhere," he added. "He was a good man, Charlie. He talked about you all the time. When we met I recognized you immediately and it was as if I knew you."

Tears welled in Charlie's eyes as she listened, her heart heavy with the weight of loss and remembrance. "I miss him every day," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

"He always had my back...so did you," Bob said. "He loved you so very much. You and your brothers. So...Promise me you won't give up."

"I promise, Bob. I'll keep fighting. I'll make sure your sacrifice wasn't in vain."

"Thank you, Charlie."

Sasha's mournful cries echoed through the stillness of the church, not so long ago after Charlie left them alone. She stepped back inside and closer to Sasha, she placed a hand on her back.

As Charlie's eyes fell upon the lifeless form of Bob, a wave of sorrow washed over her, mingling with the empathy she felt for Sasha. She couldn't help but feel a pang of compassion for Sasha, whose cries now seemed to echo with an unbearable sense of loneliness and abandonment. With a heavy sigh, Charlie knelt beside Bob's lifeless body, gently reaching out to comfort Sasha, knowing that in this moment of tragedy, they were all bound together by a shared sense of mourning and sorrow.

"I can't," she sobbed, squeezing the knife.

The weight of the decision hung heavy on her shoulders, torn between the desire to ease Sasha's suffering and the moral implications of taking a life, even one already on the brink of becoming something monstrous. With a furrowed brow, Charlie wrestled with herself, knowing that whatever choice she made would alter the course of their shared fate. But before she voiced her thoughts, a spread hand moved next to her and reached for a knife.

"You step out," Tyreese said to his sister, but then looked at Charlie. He wanted to help her as he knew what the girl was forced to do.

Perched on the worn steps of the church, Charlie watched in silence as Abraham and his group hurriedly packed their belongings, preparing to depart. A sense of sadness enveloped her as she observed the bustling activity around her, feeling like an outsider in their midst. Despite the familiarity of their shared surroundings, there was an undeniable distance between her and Abraham, his attention focused solely on the task at hand. As she sat alone with her thoughts, Charlie couldn't shake the pang of loneliness that gnawed at her heart, longing for a connection that seemed to elude her grasp.

"He likes you," Rosita said, stopping next to her. "And he can't get over the fact that you can't go."

"He didn't let me."

"He's a man."

"He's a soldier," Charlie corrected her.

She chuckled. "I think I might have judged you wrong."

"Yeah," Charlie nodded. "I thought we would have more time together."

Rosita nodded with a small smile, patted the other girl's back, and before turning away, she said: "Take care, Charlie."

"Rosita," Charlie called her name, stopping her. "Just...stay safe out there. All of you," she added nodding her head in Abraham's direction.

"We will," she nodded.

"And promise me to take care of Glenn."

She nodded with a small smile.

As Charlie watched Rosita walk away with a heavy heart, she couldn't shake the feeling of regret washing over her. She realized that she hadn't given Rosita a fair chance for friendship, and now she was leaving, perhaps never to return. The missed opportunities to bond and connect weighed heavily on her mind, and a pang of sadness settled in her chest. She wished she had taken the time to get to know Rosita better.

As Charlie turned around, she found herself face to face with Glenn, a familiar face amidst the bustling crowd. Her heart skipped a beat as memories of their first encounter flooded her mind. She remembered how they had met in Atlanta, and how Glenn had became a beacon of hope.

And now, as she looked into his eyes, she saw the same unwavering resolve that had drawn her to him all those months ago. "We were supposed to stick together."

"It sucks," he nodded. "But this is what we have to do."

"I'm gonna miss you, Glenn," she whispered.

She squeezed him tightly, as if trying to imprint the feel of his embrace into her memory, knowing that soon it would be just a distant echo in the recesses of her mind. She felt his grip tighten in response, his silent reassurance a balm to her frayed nerves.

She wanted to tell him how much he meant to her, how grateful she was for his friendship and his unwavering support, but the words caught in her throat, choked by the lump that had formed there.

Instead, she buried her face against his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of sweat and dirt and something uniquely Glenn.

"This isn't goodbye forever. It's until we find a way," he said, pushing her slightly away and holding her face in between his hands. "And we will. We always do. Soon we will meet in DC."

She nodded her head. "I don't want you to go."

"Come on, no tears," he said and wiped a single tear that ran down her cheek. "You know what they say, absence makes the heart grow... less freaked out by my terrible jokes."

Charlie chuckled through tears and Glenn smiled, too.

"That's better," he nodded and once again he hugged her. His arms wrapped around her felt like a lifeline, anchoring her in a world that seemed to be slipping away with each passing moment.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, Charles," he said.

"Take care of yourself out there, okay?"

"You too, Charlie." he answered and they let go of each other and sighed. "See you around."

"Count on it."

"This is our route to DC," Abraham said and gave a map to Rick. "We'll stick to it as long as we're able. If not, well, you got our destination. This group should be there for it. To see a new world."

"We will," Charlie looked at Abraham but he didn't even looked at her, then he passed her with offended face.

As the group prepared to part ways, there was a somber yet determined atmosphere lingering in the air. Charlie stood among them, her expression a mix of sadness and resolve.

Each member exchanged heartfelt embraces, conveying their gratitude, love, and respect for one another. Glenn shared a final hug with Charlie, his eyes conveying a silent promise to stay strong. Maggie hugged Charlie tightly, whispering words of encouragement and hope. Tara stretched her arm to bump their fists, but Charlie just pulled for a hug - not as tight as Maggie.

Then, everyone got into the fire truck and Charlie watched them go, her heart heavy with the weight of their absence yet lifted by the bonds they shared. Charlie couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong with her. It wasn't just the usual flutter of anxiety that accompanied social interactions; it was something deeper, something darker that clawed at the edges of her consciousness.

Charlie felt a lump form in her throat as she watched her friends disappear down the street, the engine fading into the distance. She wanted to call out to them, to beg them not to leave her, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she hugged her arms around herself, trying to hold herself together as the tears threatened to spill over. She knew she couldn't keep running from her thoughts forever, but the thought of facing it head-on was almost too much to bear.

And later that day, they buried Bob's body.

Charlie was sitting outside the church in the dead of night, surrounded by the dense forest. The moonlight filtered through the trees, casting long shadows around her. She was haunted by memories of Bob's death, his face etched in her mind. It wasn't the only loss she experienced that day. Thoughts of Glenn were flooding every part of her brain, consuming her to the bottom. But now, her most loyal companion was gone, and she had no idea where in the world he could be. His absence left a gaping hole in her heart. As she sat alone in the quiet of the night, Charlie found herself longing for the warmth of Glenn's presence, yearning for the comfort and strength he always provided.

Moreover, she missed Abraham's lingering presence.

"Mom, dad, Finn, Luke, Will, Pete, Amy, Jim, Jacquie, Sophia, Shane, Patricia, Jimmy, Lori, T-Dog, Oscar, Axel, Merle, Andrea, Zach, Patrick, Hershel, Mika, Lizzie, Bob,” she whispered. “Mom, dad, Finn, Luke, Will, Pete, Amy, Jim…”

When she said his name, a sudden realization ran down on her, and the thought made her mortified to the bone. As she sat alone on the steps of the church, her thoughts drifted to Jim, a friend she had lost not long ago. His words echoed in her mind like a haunting refrain: "You will wake up and you will feel empty inside, but before you will watch everyone go. Each death will take a piece of you and you won't be yourself anymore. You will be mad just like me."

At the time, Charlie had brushed off his words as the ramblings of a man on the edge of death, but now they seemed to carry a weight she couldn't ignore. Was she destined to lose everyone she cared about, one by one, until she was left alone in the darkness? And would she truly go crazy, as Jim had predicted, her mind unraveling like a thread pulled too tight?

Charlie shook her head, trying to banish the dark thoughts that threatened to overwhelm her.

"Mom, dad, Finn, Luke, Will, Pete, Amy, Jim, Jacquie, Sophia, Shane, Patricia, Jimmy, Lori, T-Dog, Oscar, Axel, Merle, Andrea, Zach, Patrick, Hershel, Mika, Lizzie, Bob.”

As Charlie sat lost in her thoughts, the sound of approaching footsteps disrupted her reverie. She looked up to see Michonne, sitting down slowly.

"I heard you talking," Michonne said softly, her eyes searching Charlie's face. "What's on your mind?"

Charlie hesitated, unsure if she was ready to share her inner turmoil. But something in Michonne's gentle gaze urged her to speak. "It's just... my thing," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Michonne nodded in understanding, her silence offering a comforting presence. She touched Charlie's arm and squeezed it. "We all need to learn how to live with what had happened in the prison."

"Yeah," Charlie nodded, knowing very well that her problems reach far beyond prison's walls. "But I think worse things happen after the fall."

Michonne's gaze flickered briefly, a shadow passing over her features before she met Charlie's eyes. "It's true," she admitted, her voice tinged with regret. "After what happened to Hershel... I saw him being killed with my own sword. The very weapon I had wielded to protect us."

A heavy silence settled between them as Charlie absorbed the weight of Michonne's revelation. The air seemed charged with shared grief and the acknowledgment of the burden they both carried.

"I thought I could move past it, keep fighting," Michonne continued, her tone a mix of vulnerability and determination. "But every time I pick up that katana, I see his face. It's as if I'm reliving that moment over and over again."

Charlie nodded, a silent understanding passing between them. The shared pain of losing someone close. Charlie placed her hand on Michonne's shoulder and rubbed it gently. "We all carry a burden," Charlie finally said, her voice a whisper. "The weight of the past can be suffocating."

"What happened in the forest Charlie?" the woman asked. "It's been crazy those past couple of days, but you can talk to me."

Charlie hesitated, her eyes reflecting the weight of a secret she could no longer bear alone. Finally, she took a deep breath and looked directly into Michonne's eyes. "It was Lizzie and Mika," she confessed, her voice barely audible over the rustling leaves.

"The girls Carol was taking care of?"

"Lizzie... she killed Mika. I had to do it," she stated, tears welling up her eyes. "I...had to do that. To protect us. To protect Judith."

As the truth spilled from her lips, the darkness seemed to close in around them, suffocating in its intensity. But in that moment of raw vulnerability, Charlie felt a sense of release, as if the burden she had carried for so long had finally been lifted. Michonne pulled Charlie into a comforting embrace, wordlessly offering solace in their shared pain. "You did what you had to do," she said firmly. "And you're not alone. We'll get through this together."

The sound, sharp and unexpected, pulled them from their hug with a jolt of apprehension. Instinctively, they turned towards the source of the disturbance, their senses on high alert. The darkness seemed to deepen around them, the shadows growing more ominous as uncertainty hung heavy in the air.

With hearts pounding in their chests, Michonne and Charlie exchanged a silent glance, a silent vow passing between them.

"Where's Carol?" Michonne asked the question, so Charlie already knew who to expect.

Her heart skipped a beat when a familiar figure emerged from the shadows. It was Daryl, his silhouette outlined against the moonlit backdrop. For a moment, Charlie's emotions threatened to overwhelm her—anger, hurt, and relief all swirling within her chest. She had thought he was gone for good, his sudden departure leaving her feeling abandoned and alone.

But none of them made a step forward. None of them even said a word to each other. Daryl was the first to break the silence, but his words were directed at someone. "Come on out!"

But it wasn't Carol.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon series #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl the walking dead #daryl twd #daryl x reader

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twdmusicboxmystery · 1 year

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11x24: Rest in Peace - Daryl, Judith, and Rosita

Okay, so I’m going to do this in parts, so it doesn’t get too long. The title will tell you what I’m discussing today. But there will be more in the next two days as well.

Daryl and Judith:

Okay, let’s talk details. What did we actually see in the episode. So, we start by seeing Daryl take Judith into the hospital and yelling, “Help me.” He puts her down on a gurney and goes to look for help. We see this from Judith’s POV. Her vision is very blurry and everything is echoey, and in slow motion.

Some troopers come through and hit Daryl on the head, knocking him out. Judith then gets up and shuts doors when she sees walkers coming. After that, she passes out again, lying next to Daryl.

Okay, let’s look at this more deeply. First, we’ve already said from last episode that Judith is clearly a Beth proxy. Her getting shot by Pamela was a total replay of Beth being shot at Grady. So, I tried to look at it from that perspective, and how this could be more of Judith being a Beth proxy.

I talked last week too about how Daryl carrying Judith and them being surrounded by walkers suggests what might have happened during the missing 17 days, right?

So, think of it this way. Daryl puts Judith down on the gurney to get help. Even though he only gets a few feet away from her, he still sort of set her down somewhere and left her behind. Then he gets knocked out. So, for the first time, I’m wondering if perhaps Daryl was injured in some way during the missing 17 days. Maybe. Maybe not. It’s always hard to know what to take literally and what might be symbolic. And of course they have to honor the current storylines, so it’s not always going to be exactly the same as the template they’re calling back to.

But I wonder if all the blurry distortion could symbolize what Beth might have observed after being shot.

Judith getting up off the gurney and shutting doors puts me in mind of Beth waking up alone and being surrounded by walkers. The fact that when Judith passes out again by Daryl, there’s a black diamond on the floor and an empty chair is super significant. Like they’re trying to show that this is a Bethyl proxy. Other shave pointed out that, lying on the floor, Daryl’s arm is lying to one side in the same way Beth’s did in Coda.

And in that vein, if Daryl’s injury here is NOT taken literally, I think Daryl is a Beth proxy as well. He gets knocked out and wakes up sometime later in the hospital. He even has a forehead injury, and someone in my group pointed out that, not only did he immediately remove the bandage, but he even pushed back his hair so we could see it clearly.

I even this his black eye (which sort of looked like an eyepatch) is a heavy example of the one-eyed, Sirius symbol.

You could also look at it from the perspective of Judith saving Daryl’s life. He was out cold by then, and if she hadn’t shut the doors, he would have been eaten. Maybe we can tie that into Beth being left in the trunk of a car so the walkers wouldn’t get her.

Like Beth, Judith woke up in the hospital after being shot. And in a very general way, she got shot, and it was touch and go for a while, but she survived. I mean, it’s not like either Judith being shot, or Daryl being knocked out, led to any major plot arc after. Why have Daryl get knocked out, rather than just taking care of Judith until Carol got there, if not to show some sort of template? Otherwise, there wasn’t any major reason in the plot for it.

Moving forward in this scene, we also see Magna’s group trying to save Luke. Both he and Jules were bitten. Jules dies in the horde, but despite them cutting off his leg to try and save him, Luke doesn’t make it. RIP Luke and Jules. But before he passes, he points toward his harmonica. They pull it out and one of them (Yumiko, I think?) says they will keep the music alive. Always. Now, Luke was the music guys, so we compared him to Beth a lot back when his group first arrived on the scene.

But again, I think it’s purposeful that they have all this Daryl/Judith/Beth proxy stuff, and then randomly pull out a musical instrument and talk about keeping the music alive. Like they’re trying to tell us this sequence is how the “music” (Beth) survived.

Daryl then donates blood to Judith. He says he is a universal donor, and Merle used to make him sell his blood as a kid. This was totally random and, again, not completely necessary to the storyline. So, they’re clearly setting something up here. It’s important to understand Daryl’s blood type and that he can donate to anyone. The obvious thing is that we’ll see him donate his blood to others in the future. But I also wonder if this might be a CRM thing. Since they’re studying the walker virus—which inherently means studying the blood—he might be valuable to them in keeping people alive.

I also thought it might have been important that all the doctors, nurses, and medicine were gone. That feels like a significant statement. We already know there was some filming in Atlanta, which we definitely didn’t see on the show, but we speculated about Daryl going back to Grady and finding it deserted. No idea if that will happen. It’s pure conjecture on our part, but this detail of the hospital being empty made me think of that.

I loved Mercer’s reunion with both Max and Princess. Always love the romantic reunions!

Once walkers breached the hospital (coming through the glass was a clear callback to them breaking into the mall in season 1). Daryl left Judith in the room and went to help. He left her in EXACTLY the way Shane left Rick in the hospital in S1. Shutting the door and putting the gurney in front of it. Daryl even takes it a step further by leaning a heavy shelf onto the gurney so no one can move it.

So, I totally didn’t realize he did that at first. I only noticed the shelf when they ran back to get Judith out of the room. Only on rewatching did I realize he put that shelf there to begin with.

The reason it caught my eye is that it was laying at a crooked angle, exactly like the grandfather clock in Still. Seeing Daryl pick it up and set it right was an echo of Still. So, yet another tie to Beth. And to Rick, of course.

@wdway also pointed out that, even in terms of Rick, once Judith survives, there should be a reunion with someone she thinks is dead (because Rick reunited with Lori and Carl) and we didn’t see that in the episode. But we should see that next.

Of course Tomi works on Judith, and when she wakes up later, she finally tells Daryl and Carol about Michonne going to search for Rick.

Also, I love, loved, LOVED the Little Asskicker/Big Asskicker line. So cute and funny and fitting and adorable!

When they’re rushing Judith out of the hospital, we also have a shot where they look to be in a dark tunnel with light on the opposite side. We also saw this with Beth just before she was shot in S5.

Rosita’s Death:

Okay, so if you read most of my posts, you know I wasn’t convinced about Rosita’s death. Mostly, that’s because I feel like they’ve set up some arcs for her that I thought would play out during the CRM storyline, so we obviously haven’t seen yet. I talked about some possibilities. Maybe she would be bitten, but not die. Maybe those foreshadows I saw were meant for someone else and she was a stand in, etc.

Well, she definitely did die. But what Christian Seratos said on the after show was interesting. She said it was her idea for Rosita to die. That she didn’t want her character to survive the show. In other words, this wasn’t something the writers decided to do on their own. It’s something Christian asked for. And we know the writers are always respectful of the actors when they want to leave the show. Christian is clearly in demand for other work, so I don’t begrudge her wanting to do other things.

So, here’s the thing. That, I can almost guarantee, was changed from the original plan. A lot has changed over the years, including technology, which has led to them ending the flagship show and moving to other spinoffs. But if that weren’t the case; if they’d stayed with the flagship show for another five or six seasons, I really don’t think Rosita would have died at this juncture.

I think once they realized they were ending the show and moving to the spinoffs, they probably asked each of the actors what they wanted to do (they would have had to negotiate new contracts for new shows) and whether they wanted to keep working in the TWDU or not. Christian simply decided against it.

And that makes me feel better because it means that what we saw for her was probably real, but just as with MMB pulling out of the Daryl spinoff, things have to change in the show because of things changing outside the show. But it’s not a matter of us misinterpreting things.

Upon rewatching, I did notice a few interesting things. When Rosita is bitten (which they don’t reveal until later) there is a red vehicle she climbs up on and even the pipe and brick exterior of the building she climbs is red. My fellow theorists and I have talked about this a lot lately, but the red always represents something catastrophic happening. Not necessarily a death, but maybe more like a separation. So death definitely counts. So, I think the red in that scene was very purposeful.

There were also callbacks to Glenn’s near death experience in S6, and Rick climbing the tank in S1.

Also, looking back (and they showed some of this during the In Memorium for Rosita), the scene from 11b where there was a huge storm at Alexandria and Rosita ran out into the rain to fight the walkers was a foreshadow of her death. If you look, in that scene, she even has a bruise on the side of her chin, the same place she has one here at her death. So, obviously at least by then, they knew Rosita would die before the end.

I thought Rosita’s end was very poignant. Her scenes with Gabe and Coco and especially Eugene were very sweet and sad. I cried. Which is surprising, because Rosita has never been my favorite character. But they gave her a very beautiful and fitting end.

One other thing I noticed is that Baby Coco is dressed in green and pink. Both Beth colors. I thought about that. In general, it could just be that Coco survives and lives on, even though Rosita does not. But we could also say that Coco almost died. And someone else (Rosita) was bitten and died so Coco could live. And of course we don’t know if that was specifically the case with Beth, since we really still don’t entirely understand what happened at Grady.

Thankfully, both Elijah and Jerry survived. (Yay!) in a broad way, they were both lost in a sea of walkers, but survived, which we could compare to Beth and what we think happened during the missing 17 days. Also, if you remember, we’ve said before that Lydia and Elijah are clearly a Bethyl proxy. So, it’s important that they came back together after being separated. When they hug, Lydia says, “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” Which just sounds like something that could be applied to Beth and Daryl.

I’ll stop there for today. Tomorrow I’ll be discussing more story lines and aspects of this episode.

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

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tangleweave · 2 months

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She lands hard on her back-side and she blames him for catching her under her guard. She eyes him with a predatory gleam in her eye and blows a sweat-lank lock of her bangs out of her eye. In that moment as she's pushing herself up on her elbows, her mana flickers. The staff winks out of existence but that doesn't mean he's won this certámen, though she isn't sure what he calls it exactly. Maybe one of her downfalls is that Beth doesn't know how to lose with a sense of grace. She kips up and conjures her weapon again; this time a knotted sort of garrote. It is a ka‘ane, a strangling cord that women used in war on her islands for generations before the arrival of the Haole, and even after. She won't use her iWi, this is neither a fight to the death nor even one intended to harm the other and she would not bring foci into the duel. Beth is never socially gauche. But that doesn't mean she won't cheat, just a little. What was that phrase? Ah yes.

May the odds be ever in your favour. Something that shouldn't be taken lightly when you fight, even playfully, with someone who has a certain command over entropy, the universal flow of chance, probability, chaos, and decay. She sizes him up through the dark lens of her mana, and sees where he is vulnerable though nothing strikes her as sharply as his arms. She buries the wince that comes shrieking to the forefront of her mind and refuses to let pity's close cousin ~sentimentality~ get the better of her. She manages to take three leaping steps to land almost soundlessly behind him and to the side, all while her ka‘ane wraps effortlessly around his legs. He turns to follow the motion only further tangling himself up and that's when she yanks. He lands a little harder than she does, given her greater flexibility and having caught him off balance. In another heartbeat, she's on him. Knees pinned at his hips. Palms braced on the flat front of his shoulders. Those stray locks falling down into his face as she flashes him a smile with all of her teeth on display, but a crinkle at the corners of her nose. A triumph that dissolves in the next moment, exhaled in sweet, warm cinnamon that grazes his mouth. "I know it's silly," she partly gasps in a pant. "To hold on to dis hope, but…my heart refuse t' let you go." One of a million kisses that never have had a chance to take place between them. "But dat's still not enough t' get you out of making me suppah, and doin' dishes aftah, Stephen."

[ As Solitude Begs Us To Stay / Accepting ]

Beth's staff is much as she herself is -- slender, elegant, and deceptive. For being a weapon of such seeming simplicity, it carries tremendous threat to anyone who understands enough just how it can be applied. But Stephen has had considerable practice both with and against quarterstaves. For all their reach and speed, there is vulnerability at the closest range.

When Stephen had first come to Kamar-Taj, he'd tried to adopt some manner of understanding as to why virtually penniless scholars would be trained in such a broad variety of martial and armed arts. He'd thought it was simply a matter of protecting their territory from the kinds of brigands that had attacked him for the gold filigree in his broken watch.

Mordo had not exhibited a weapon then because he hadn't needed anything but his hands. Such annoyances were hardly worth the effort. But from that point forward, it was clear to Stephen that he would need to learn how to defend himself and his peers.

He'd just not had a proper notion of what he was defending them from.

The hard clacking of his escrima sticks against her weapon echoes about the arena's retention walls not unlike the sound of hockey sticks on the line of scrimmage. He knows moves to injure, to cripple… to kill, also, but this last is merely an exercise in academics, because he still invests his heart and soul in the Hippocratic oath. And disarming Beth is a complicated prospect when she bears her staff with such solid surety, as though it's an extension of her will. She's been trained well.

But when he takes a half-step past her body and shifts away from her delayed attempt at a jab, he sees his opening. Rather than using a stick to strike her in the back, he snakes it across her midriff, hooks an ankle behind hers, and swings his body forward, hurtling her down and onto her rear. He retreats several steps, allowing her a moment of recovery.

He sees the way her gaze sweeps him, the violet glint in her eyes, and he suspects she's looking for an opening beyond just what's physically obvious. But it's only an instant, and then she's in motion again -- and he shouldn't be surprised she's so quick and agile, because her slight build and small stature lend themselves very much to exceeding quickness.

He realizes his faux pas too late; his legs are too close to one another, and that allows her to entangle them and trip him, sending him toppling with nearly the level of ignominy she'd suffered only moments before. In his sudden panic to catch himself and distribute the impact, his sticks go flying from his hands and he braces himself on the heels of his palms… a jolt that's both painful and curiously dull goes shooting through his mangled nerves.

Suddenly she's above him, her lariat still about his ankles and her hands on his shoulders. All toothy, satisfied grin and spiced panting breath, stray locks drifting across his nose and threatening him with a sneeze or a blink.

Her murmur comes rushing out across his face, dribbling into his ears with the consistency of honey and the joy of reunion. And for a moment, his face changes. The wrinkles around his eyes and in his forehead smooth out, and the muscles about his jaw slacken. Gingerly, to respect the victory she's rightfully earned, he lifts one hand up, index and middle fingers outstretched, to catch hold of the wisp of her hair that's fallen free, and slowly tucks it behind her ear.

"Let's be honest," he responds, his words low and sibilant, the movement of his lips pronounced just that extra little bit that he knows she needs. "Fight or no, you were always going to win. Meal prep isn't your favorite hobby… but it's a secret point of pride for me."

And then, with an abrupt twist of his hips and a thrust off his free arm, he suddenly hurtles to the side, sending Beth tumbling over to the floor -- and landing with him settled across her, from shoulder to hip.

He smirks down into her startled face.

"But sure. I'll handle the dishes too. Only fair."

A singular extra moment of silence. Of staring down at her as he looks for the words to respond to the other thing… the far more contemplative point she had offered. Mentioning food had been a deflection from it. But he's not about to let it go by unnoticed.

"And as for your heart? Maybe it convinced you to come here to find me."

#And So It Begins | answered prompts #brooklynislandgirl #beth riley #muse: strange #verse: practical magic

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mortytheestallion · 3 years

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tasting glass

Part 2 Part 3

Rating: 18+ (No minors); explicit

Wordcount: 1.6k

Warnings: Rick Sanchez x F!Reader, angst, implied age gap, unprotected sex, daddy kink

A/N: Hello I’m back from the dead, I know I’ve been lacking on both fandoms but my hyperfixations have died. In honor of season 5 here’s a new little mini-series I’m challenging myself to this summer! This takes place in between episodes 2 and 3!

The summer heat was humid and sticky as Rick finished his latest project. The sweltering seemed to permeate the garage just the same with the door opened or closed, and with Beth and Jerry’s latest fight reaching its peak, he decided hiding away was his best bet.

Rick and the heat did not get along well, something that translated to the rest of the family, it felt as though he was fending off Summer and Morty with a stick. Their boredom was not his problem though, he had much better things to do. The thought of slipping away had plagued his mind for the last few hours, but the fever of the summer seemed to make his mind feel like syrup.

“What I wouldn’t fucking give for a pool right now?” Rick murmured to himself, his brow furrowing at the reminder of his own sticky misery. The sky bathed the house in a silky red with the sun slipping down under the horizon. He took another sip from his flask, turning to lean on the workbench.

He heaved a deep sigh as his phone caught the corner of his eye, you were ignoring him, and in true Rick fashion he had taken that in stride. His eyes narrowed unconsciously as he thought about it, his empty hand tightening into a fist. He didn’t fucking need you.

He didn’t need anybody.

Beth’s shrill voice cut through the air followed by some thuds and an “Ow!” from Jerry. That earned an eye roll from Rick and while he wouldn’t mind going in there and tearing them a new one, it was too much work. Morty was breathing down his neck about letting them be, that they were happy. He had scoffed when Morty said that, it was bullshit and he wouldn’t be surprised if someone wanted another divorce in the next 6 months.

Nonetheless, he was stuck in this stuffy house with his family’s bullshit to avoid your bullshit and he was starting to feel suffocated. Why did he give a shit if you were mad, fuck if you wanted to play that game so would he. Maybe it was the liquor he had just downed but it really didn't take much to get Rick riled up. And you knew that.

He could feel the anger blooming in his chest, he wasn’t some fucking teenager in a petty fight with some dumb, little girlfriend. Suddenly he was hot with anger and before he knew it, a portal was in the center of the floor and he was walking through. Damned be his new fibermesh epidermis defense, and fuck his family, always asking him for shit.

One foot through he stopped and thought of you briefly softening, he had been pretty rough on you lately. You called, he declined. You showed up, he went out the nearest portal. He had really only been around lately to take care of his own needs.

A particularly loud curse from inside the house brought him right back to his original train of thought, he was the smartest man in the universe, he didn’t need to take crap from you. You should be thanking him for his presence in your life.

“You have some fucking nerve.”

You shrieked as Rick pulled back the shower curtain. A cold shower was one of the better ways to fend off the heat with the air conditioner broken, especially since Rick had moaned, groaned, and wormed his way out of fixing it.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You hissed as he climbed in fully clothed, his brow in a prominent V-shape, lids half mast. It would have been comical in any other situation, his lanky body struggling to fit in your small shower, an almost bored expression on his face as the water drenched his clothes.

“Me?” Rick scoffed, and narrowed his eyes at you. He began to lose his composure a bit, having your wet naked body in front of him.

“Yes, you. You can’t just barge in here unannounced anymore Rick. I’m not some toy you can pick up when you’re bored and throw it away when you’re not.”

He feigned a hurt look, shrugged the now soaked coat from his shoulders. “I have enough toys, sweetheart, if you were one you’d know.”

That earned a huff from you, it had been a long day and the last thing you needed was Rick’s bullshit. Turning back to face the water, you rinsed the rest of the soap off of you, jumping slightly as his arms snaked their way around your waist.

“C’mon,” he murmured, pressing kisses to your shoulder, you could feel the hard press of cold denim against your ass as he ground into you, “you know you can’t refuse my huge dynamite penis.”

That earned a snort from you, the hard shell of anger cracking slightly. “You’re not off that easy, Rick. You’ve been a huge asshole lately, even more than usual.”

His hands came up to massage your breasts, the feeling amplified by the cold water. You let out a low moan as he latched his mouth to the sweet spot on your neck while one hand tweaked your nipple, and the other snuck its way down to stroke your fluttering core.

“S-shit baby you can’t still —is this all for me?” You could feel his wolfish grin against the back of your neck, and in return you arched your back more to grind against his erection. His long fingers trace through your folds as he removes his other hand to undo his belt, you feel the tight heat in your lower belly as you gush around his fingers.

“Fuck,” Rick murmurs, stopping his motions momentarily to land a hard smack on your ass. You bite back a whine, wanting to maintain some semblance of composure, despite him being knuckle-deep in you. His fingers suddenly press against something deep and spongy within you, your knees buckle as you lurch forward, the unexpected waves of pleasure shivers down your body. Rick lets out another curse, his arm darting out to grip your waist, surely you would’ve fallen face-first into the wall had he not been holding you up.

He inhales sharply as you clench around his fingers, whispering good girl into your neck as you ride it out. He eases out of you, your juices dripping down your thighs, the feeling coupled with the uncomfortable chill of the water makes you shudder.

“You’re a dirty little slut,” you tense again as he aligns himself to your entrance, still a little sensitive from your release, “beg me baby, I-I want to hear you.”

You mewl as he pushes into you, the stretch rides the line of pleasure and pain, Rick barely gives you enough time to get used to it before he bucks his hips and grips your jaw as a warning, “Beg.”

“Please, Rick, I want — I want you to fuck me,” your voice comes out whiny making you wince a bit, but it seems to please Rick as he sets a deep pace, biting into your neck hard enough it's sure to leave a mark.

You can’t help but arch your back even further, this seems to please him as he releases his bite on your neck, “Someone’s eager, y-you can’t seem to get enough of my dick can you?” You moan in response, snaking a hand down to rub the tender bundle of nerves.

You clench at the contact, leading Rick to fasten his pace, his hand moving to tighten around your neck.

“You’re my — you’re daddy’s good girl aren’t you? Can’t get enough of m-my monster cock, you wanna come don’t you? Don’t fucking dare, not until I say so.”

All you can manage is incoherent moans with the occasional Rick! thrown in, you’re too cockdumb to be embarrassed or angry anymore. Rick has his way of getting out of trouble, especially with you.

His brutal pace coupled with your own fingers becomes too much for you as you near your second orgasm, Rick seemed to egg you on as his own fingers replaced yours, you could feel your stomach tightening as your release began to stir in the peak of your stomach.

“Come on my dick, baby, let the neighbors hear you scream my name.”

The pleasure washes over you in waves, your pussy clenching hard around his dick, he thrusts with wild abandon chasing his own release. You can feel him rut against your sensitive walls, riding your post-orgasmic haze. He spills inside you a few moments later letting out a string of expletives in true Rick fashion. You feel yourself stir again slightly as you feel him fill you up, but Rick extracts himself from you gracelessly.

Coming back to your senses you rinse the mixture of juices off your legs, much to Rick’s distaste, and turn off the water. You shiver from being drenched for so long, side-eyeing Rick as he avoids your gaze.

“You’re dripping on my floor,” you murmur, he stands there uncomfortably, it's not lost on you that his portal gun has returned to his hand.

“Well, I-I should go.”

“Typical.”

Rick can feel the anger simmer low in his belly at your dig, “What do you mean typical?”

“Well let’s see Rick, you show up angry and unannounced, seduce me in my show—” “I didn’t seduce you! And —and frankly, I resent the accusation!” “And now you’re leaving with no explanation. This isn’t sustainable long term, Rick.”

“And what makes you think I want to be here long term,” He regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth, a hurt look flashes across your face before it's replaced with anger.

“Come on, baby, I-I didn’t mean it.”

He reaches out for you and you jerk backwards, “Your family may have taken you back, but I’m not this time Rick.”

He opens his mouth, but you cut him off, “Just go, it’s what you’re best at.”

Rage blinds him as he shoots a portal to the floor, “Don’t — I’m not coming back this time.”

“I know you're not.” And with that he’s gone.

#rick sanchez #rick sanchez x reader #Rick Sanchez/reader #rick sanchez smut #tw daddy kink #rick sanchez x you

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sanzoumon · 3 years

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70 RICKORTY PROMPTS pt 3!

Here we go again! Same things apply, warnings at the start of the prompts. Everything is bottom!Morty unless otherwise stated. Also some prompts are gen.

70, guys. 70! And here I thought I was out of ideas. Anyway you can tell the moments when I was super horny while coming up with ideas. Some of these prompts get detailed and long but as always feel free to play around with the ideas.

Also with some of these I had no idea where I was going with them so pfft.

MPreg. Post-Promortyus. Those parasites reflected their own feelings. Morty asks Rick about it, what they did and said. Long story short, after some pressing, Rick admits everything that parasite said was true, he loves Morty and wants to have a baby with him. Morty finds the idea appealing, to be honest. He thinks about being pregnant with Rick’s baby and loves it.

Angst. As they get older Rick starts becoming forgetful and develops dementia. Morty is with him through it all and Rick can feel his own brilliant mind fading away, it scares him. They still have sex but as time goes on Rick gets less and less lucid. Eventually Rick dies in his sleep one night.

Non-con. Thriller. On the Citadel. There’s a serial rapist and killer loose on the Citadel. He targets Morty’s. The Morty’s disappear for 3 days and turn up dead on the forth. The police know the culprit is a Rick, given the DNA left behind, but DNA doesn’t vary much between dimensions so it doesn’t help much. They call in a specialist, a Rick who understands people and specializes in Profiling. The culprit redressed the bodies, showing them reverence, he loves these Morty’s. Things become complicated when Profiler Rick’s Morty gets abducted. ((Criminal Minds inspired))

Hebephilia. This Rick is a straight up Hebephile and has tried to reject that part of him his whole life. Morty happens to be right in his strike zone. He even left his own Beth when she was 13, fearing he might go after her. He thought these urges would mellow out in his old age but being around Morty is a challenge. And now Morty is confessing he’s in love with Rick and that he’s attracted to older people. After resisting his whole life Rick finally gives in and feels like a piece of shit for it.

Prison. Dub-con. Rick and Morty get arrested and everyone wants Morty’s ass to make him his bitch. Rick isn’t about to let that happen, fighting off anyone who tries to lay a hand on Morty. But every time Rick leaves him alone someone tries something. So Rick does the only thing he can, after beating Morty’s assailant to a pulp, he takes Morty in front of other prisoners to show who he belongs to. Morty is freaked out but damn Rick is giving him pleasure he never knew existed. Everyone backs off Morty but he wants Rick to fuck him again and again.

Omegaverse. Everyone knew that Alpha’s were supposed to care for their Omega in exchange for the Omega’s submission. Rick doesn’t do the whole caring thing but due to the proximity they have Morty recognizes Rick as his Alpha and he wants to be cared for. Eventually Morty breaks down. This triggers Rick’s Alpha nature and he gives Morty all the affection he’s been craving. Rick fucks him slowly, gently, in a comforting way, to help calm him. Tells him how good he is, etc. Finally he knots Morty and Morty feels like he’s whole again.

Angst. Rick and Morty are goofing around, just having a good time. They end up with their faces close together and Rick kisses Morty. Morty doesn’t react well. Will he come around?

Morty is desperate to be with Rick. He just wants Rick to stay with him and he’ll let Rick do anything to him. Abuse him. Fuck him. Anything.

Anything based on the song “Pretty When You Cry” by VAST.

Morty has a kink for seeing Rick cry.

Morty likes the feel of Rick’s wrinkly and saggy skin. Sometimes he just messes with it because it feels nice.

Age Problems. For all his sexual prowess, Rick is still an old man and sometimes it’s hard for him to get it up. And it’s really humiliating and frustrating because he is horny and his dick just isn’t reacting. Morty doesn’t mind that much, it happens. Besides, Rick is still damn good with his hands.

Electro Play. Rick hooks up Morty to all sorts of sex toys. They all send electric shocks to his dick and asshole. Rick also uses a wand to shock Morty on his thighs. He also won’t let Morty cum. Eventually he fucks Morty while still shocking his dick.

Rick sends Morty to school with a vibrator in his ass. Throughout the day he turns the device on to make Morty squirm. By the time lunch period comes, Morty can’t stand it anymore. He finds Rick waiting in a bathroom stall, dick hard and waiting for Morty, looking smug. Morty practically jumps on Rick’s lap and Rick takes the vibrator out. Morty rides him and moans so loud it’s a wonder the whole school doesn’t hear.

Public Sex. They have a very specific kink for fucking in portable toilets, like you see in construction sites or during fairs. It’s so unsanitary and smells disgusting and anyone could hear them but that’s what makes it hot.

Feminization Kink. Morty has a kink for beating treated like a woman. Not crossdressing tho. He likes it when Rick calls him a bitch, his wife, princess, his ‘pretty little girl’, calling his asshole a pussy or other such things, calling his dick a clit, talking about knocking him up. Things like that. Morty likes holding his legs open, begging Rick to fuck his pussy.

Morty is a straight up slutty little cock whore for Rick’s cock. Loves riding it. Loves being plowed by it. If Morty has it his way he’d just live life with Rick’s cock in his ass.

Exhibitionism. Degradation. Rick takes Morty to a special club where public sex happens on a stage. Surrounded by a bunch of Rick’s they all hoot and holler, calling him a slut, a whore, offering his Rick money so they can fuck him, etc. Morty never cums so hard in his life.

On the Citadel. A Rick books a private lapdance with a Morty at the Creepy Morty. Like most strip clubs there’s a “look, don’t touch” rule. But for a bit of extra cash many of them will let you do more than just look. And Rick is so desperate for the sexy little Morty gyrating on his lap.

Mind Break. Rick fucks Morty hard and rough for so long that Morty can’t live without being fucked by Rick anymore. He just wants Rick to take care of him, feed him, bathe him, then fuck him like a cheap whore. Being a living sex doll for Rick is the best thing that ever happened to him.

Miami Rick x Miami Morty. Sometimes Rick’s enemies put their hands on Morty. Morty almost pities them. Almost. Rick practically runs the underworld in Miami and everyone knows Morty belongs to him. Sometimes Rick needs to remind everyone that he’s an amoral old bastard who fucks his grandson so good that the kid begs for it.

Miami Rick x Miami Morty. Branding. Morty isn’t blind, he knows his grandfather is a criminal and knows people will target him to get to Rick. Morty also notices that Rick brands the shit that belongs to him and that no one touches it. Morty asks Rick to brand him so he’ll be safe, that people will know they’ll have to cross Rick Sanchez if they touch him. After getting the brand his ass hurts so much but he’s so turned on by the knowledge that Rick owns him now. He begs Rick to fuck him. And who is Rick to deny his cute grandson?

Set during Close Rickounters. They’re filthy, tired, and stranded. Rick is aggravated with Zeep, who keeps riling Rick up. Being in close proximity to each other for months makes it awkward sometimes. Like when Morty gets turned on seeing Rick in just his tank top, violently attempting to craft something like a mad man. He looks absolutely feral and Morty can’t help but moan at the thought of Rick fucking him like that. Rick notices, of course, and he’s in such a frenzied state that he doesn’t think twice about using Morty as an outlet for his frustration. He fucks him raw, with little prep, scratches, bites, pulls his hair, spanks him, slaps his face, taunts him, even spits on him, utterly degrading Morty and treating him like a sex toy. And Rick looks, smells, and feels so gross and dirty that it drives Morty insane. He can’t believe it’s happening, that Rick didn’t even care to ask Morty if he wanted this or not (Morty does want it tho). To just be taken and used as a stress outlet? It’s the best.

ABO Kink. They’re not from an ABO dimension but they both sure as hell find it hot. Basically they’re normal but know of ABO dimensions so Rick roleplays as an Alpha and Morty an Omega.

Rick x Morticia. Breast Play. Morti has surprisingly large breasts under her baggy t-shirt. Something happens to their clothes on an adventure and Rick gets an eye full of what Morti’s been hiding. She’s ashamed and embarrassed by them. Rick doesn’t see why, she’s beautiful. Morti stares at him and he realizes he said that out loud. Morti moves her arms from her chest and, very shyly, shows Rick everything. Rick realizes this is an invitation to touch and he takes it. He has her moaning like a whore in seconds. The next morning Morti comes down stairs wearing a v-neck top, showing off a little cleavage. The family is surprised because Morti was always so ashamed before. Morti just says she got a little confidence recently and gives Rick a knowing look. Rick decides he’s definitely going to fuck her boobs later today.

Rick x Morticia. Pregnancy Kink. Rick wants to get his 14 year old granddaughter pregnant. Wants to see her waddle around, have her breasts swell up, and wants to see her walk around knowing that’s his child in her belly. He wants to keep her knocked up all the time, keep her locked up at home, barefoot and pregnant, taking care of all their kids. Putting in another baby as soon as the current one pops out. He wants to make her his little breeding slave. He wouldn’t, of course, one kid is already too much for them but it’s still hot to think about.

Cheating. Cuckolding. Morty goes out of his way to fuck other guys just to make Rick jealous. Rick comes home to find some guy plowing him and Rick goes ballistic. He never hurts the other guys, just violently tosses them out. Then he holds Morty down and fucks him to remind him that he belongs to Rick. And that’s what Morty is really after. He wants Rick to be possessive, to fear losing him. NOTE: This isn’t a cuckolding kink, Rick isn’t into being cucked.

Rick x Morty + Summer. Morty wants Summer to watch Rick fuck him and to make humiliating / degrading comments about him during it. She’s getting paid for it but she’d be lying if she said her panties didn’t get soaked during it. Seeing her baby brother get plowed by a huge cock belonging to their grandfather was pretty hot, especially when Morty started moaning like a slut. She starts grinding into the chair she’s sitting on and cums from it. Morty doesn’t notice but Rick does, even tho he didn’t say anything.

Gun Play. It’s an Earth gun, pretty archaic by Rick’s standards. But Morty wants him to fuck him at gun point with a loaded standard 9mm. Even gives the gun a blowjob. Morty’s such a little freak.

Casual Possessiveness. When they go out, adventure or not, Rick puts his hand on the back of Morty’s neck. A hand on his waist. Hand on his shoulder, pressed against Rick’s side. Morty loves the feeling of protection and Rick loves protecting his little Morty.

Slow dancing. Rick and Morty are at a party, dancing and having a good time, then the music slows down and people couple up. Morty laughs it off and turns to leave, but Rick offers his hand to him instead - an offer to keep dancing. Rick ends up being a pretty good dancer and Morty finds himself mesmerized by Rick in this moment.

Hurt/Comfort. Spooning. Rick has a nightmare and wanders into Morty’s room. He lays down next to him, with his back facing Morty. Morty notices and hears faint crying coming from Rick. Morty pulls Rick into a hug, snuggling against his back. They stay like that for a little while until Rick calms down. Rick gets up to leave but Morty asks him to stay. This time Rick lays down facing Morty and they just sorta hold each other.

In Mortyberg. Most of the Morty’s there are Rickless but a few still have them. As C-137 Rick and Morty watch the few Rick’s left find their Morty’s, clinging desperatly to them, happy to be reunited - they see one pair kiss passionately. The couple gets odd stares. The Rick picks up his Morty and the kiss even deeper. C-137 Rick and Morty feel awkward about watching it and notice a few other Rick’s and Morty’s are giving them sneers. But Morty thinks they seem happy together, he’s a little jealous. He grabs Rick’s hand and just holds it, smiling up at him.

In this dimension, Rick has been around Morty’s whole life. They’re very close to each other. As a small child Morty always wanted his grandpa to pick him up and hold him. Morty’s 14 now and that really hasn’t changed.

Rick goes full on Grandpapa Wolf when Morty is in danger. He cries out “NO! MY BABY!” when Morty gets hurt.

On the Citadel. A story about Citadel cops who respond to Domestic Violence calls. Most times it’s Rick’s abusing Morty’s, sometimes Rick’s abusing Rick’s, Morty’s abusing Morty’s, and on rare occasions it’s Morty’s abusing Rick’s.

Mental Age Regression. Past Child Abuse. Rick suffers a blow to the head and passes out. When he wakes up he doesn’t remember anything from after he was 10 years old. It’s weird for all of them and Morty falls into the roll of primary caretaker. Rick gets into a bit of trouble when he accidentally breaks something of Morty’s. Morty yells at him and only stops when Rick is cowering on the floor, begging Morty not to hit him, then Rick starts mumbling “I’m sorry daddy please don’t hit me I didn’t mean it”. Morty gets down next to him and holds him, apologizing.

Past Non-con. Past Child Abuse. Still having Rick’s memories on hand, Morty decides to watch more. He sees all the pain Rick has gone through, his father raping and abusing him, his mother knowing and ignoring it, bullying in school, countless instances of Rick being sexually assaulted throughout his whole life. Even some up until right before he came to live with the Smith family. He sees a memory he can’t recall where Rick took Morty’s place when some aliens intended to rape him (Rick must have erased it from Morty’s memories). Morty comes too and sees Rick ripped the device away. Morty was crying and the tears wouldn’t stop. It’s Rick who comforts him, holding him, telling him it was all in the past and that it’s okay now.

Non-Con. Time Travel. Morty travels back in time to when Rick was his age. They bond pretty quickly, spending all day together. At the end of the day Morty realizes he has nowhere to go so Rick invites him to stay the night. In middle of the night, Morty finds Rick isn’t in bed and goes looking for him. What he finds is noises coming from behind a cracked door. He peeks inside and sees Rick and Rick’s father, Rick is crying and his father is plowing into him. Morty makes a noise and next thing he knows he’s dragged into the room too. Rick begs his dad to leave Morty alone. Instead, Rick’s dad tells Morty to sit there and see what Rick is really like, then decide if he wants a friend like him afterward. He shoves Rick on top of Morty and starts fucking him again, Rick is crying, apologizing. Rick starts to unravel, begging for more. Rick’s father leaves the room once he’s done. Morty cleans Rick up and takes him back to bed. Rick begs Morty not to leave so Morty stays in bed with him, just holding him, and Rick kisses him on the mouth before going to sleep. In the morning he gets woken up by his Rick. Morty wants to wake up young Rick but Rick stops him, shaking his head ‘no’. So they leave. Before Morty can ask Rick tells him that when he woke up that morning he cried like a bitch when he saw Morty was gone. He tells Morty everything about his father, that it never stopped until his father died. That even today that man still haunts his nightmares. This time Morty kisses Rick, letting Rick hold onto him like a lifeline. Rick apologizes that Morty has to see all that but it was always going to happen.

Spanking. On the Citadel. It’s not uncommon to see Rick’s punishing their Morty’s by spanking them in public. Guard Rick’s punishing Guard Morty’s. Teacher Rick’s punishing Student Morty’s. Rick’s just going about the Citadel, their Morty’s being little brats, stopping to bend them over and whip their behinds. Some Rick’s pay good money to spank Morty’s. Some Morty’s pay good money to get spanked by Rick’s.

Rick falls in love with Morty the very first moment he sees him, when Morty was a newborn. Throughout the years and their adventures, those feelings changed into something more romantic and sexual. It makes Rick feel sick. He doesn’t want to hurt his precious grandson but he keeps pushing the envelope with the boy to get more of his love and affection. He even asked Morty to kiss him! On the lips! He hates himself more when Morty kisses him on the lips.

Pet Names. Getting Caught. Rick has a lot of pet names for Morty: babe, baby, honey, sweetie, sweetheart, affection insults (bitch, lil shit, etc.). But Morty’s favorite is when Rick calls him “my love”. It rarely happens because it’s not one of those pet names you could mistake for familial at all. Sadly Rick uses it during dinner with the family one night without thinking about it. Everyone did a double take and then the interrogations started.

In a dimension where Rick isn’t a scientist, he’s a criminal. Thief, murderer, arsonist, a lot of bad shit. 4 years ago kidnapping got added to his list of crimes. He tracked down only daughter and abducted his 10 year old grandson, Morty, wounding his pre-teen granddaughter (who was babysitting) at the time. They haven’t been seen or heard from since... until today. A high speed chase, a shootout, Rick being shot, bleeding out, Morty crying, rushing to him, holding him, trying to stop the bleeding, kissing Rick, telling him he’ll love him forever, Rick dying. It was all televised on the news. Beth gets her son back but does she really? Just what exactly did Rick do to the boy in 4 years?

Vore. Microphilia. Morty gets shrunk down, clothes not included. Rick messes with him by putting him in his mouth. Then he tastes something weird in there and feels something strange. Morty is grinding against Rick’s tongue and came from it. Rick’s into it.

Paternal Instincts. Caretaking. Morty wets himself during an adventure. Once they get safely home he collapses and starts bawling like a baby, his pants still wet. At first Rick tells him to stop being a pussy but that makes Morty cry harder. It triggers something in Rick and suddenly his long buried paternal instincts gutpunch him. He scoops Morty up, holds him against his chest and says “now, now, grandpa’s here, baby” and tells Morty he’ll take care of him. He takes Morty to the bathroom, undresses him, and wipes him down with a warm washcloth. He then helps Morty into his pajamas and picks him up again, asking if he felt any better and if he wants to take a nap with grandpa. Morty feels like he can’t speak so he just nods yes to both.

Taking it Slow. Making Love. Rick is really DTF-y (Down To Fuck) pretty much all the time. When he and Morty start their relationship tho, Rick tells him he’s not ready to have sex yet. Morty thinks it’s just Rick having hang ups over the whole grandson thing but no, Rick doesn’t care about that. His age then? Morty starts thinking Rick just isn’t attracted to him so Rick finally tells him he’s plenty attracted. He just wants to take it slow, not because of Morty but for himself. Morty finds out that Rick was the same with Diane, even when she was DTF. Morty thinks it’s kinda sweet so he stops pestering Rick. They date, cuddle, make out, sometimes do hand stuff. After about 6 months of dating, Rick takes him to a fancy dinner then a hotel, telling Morty he’s ready. Then he makes sweet tender love to Morty and Morty finally gets what people mean when they say “good things come to those who wait”.

Necrophilia. Character Death. Angst. Morty dies because of Rick. Rick doesn’t take it well at all. He digs up Morty’s body in the dead of night, tries to go full Viktor Frankenstein and bring him back. But nothing works. He knows it’s just an empty shell, but he can’t stop himself from caressing his body, kissing his lips, undressing him, and thrusting into him. It’s cold, there’s not an ounce of warmth left in Morty’s tiny little body. He keeps the body longer than he should after that. It’s not long before he’s found out.

Past Non-Con. Public Restroom Sex. Healing Sex. After the Mr Jellybean incident, Morty is terrified of public restrooms. Rick makes it better by giving Morty a good time in a restroom, reassuring Morty that he can put a stop to this any time. Not that Morty wants to stop. Rick comforts and praises him the whole time.

Guard Rick x Morty. The Morty of a Guard Rick loves the way Rick looks in his uniform.

Pony Rick x Pony Morty. The good thing about Equestria was that they didn’t think twice about PDA. A stallion nuzzling his grandcolt wasn’t that odd. Behind closed doors he was nailing his grandcolt’s plot pretty much every night. Rick thinks he should be careful, at this rate Morty’s cutie mark will end up being a picture of Rick’s cock.

Primitivism. In a dimension where modern tech doesn’t exist, there’s various tribes that exist. Morty’s mother Beth leads their tribe after her father stepped down. When Morty’s 14th birthday arrives, the battle for his hand in marriage begins. Being the second child (with Summer being Beth’s heir) that means Morty will leave and marry into the tribe of the victor. It’s an open contest, anyone can enter. No one ever expected Rick to enter and dominate the competition. Beth has no choice but to declare him the winner. As per tradition they must now consummate their union. Morty is afraid, but Rick makes it good for him. Afterward Morty asks why Rick did it. Rick tells him it’s because Morty always belong to him, he just made it official.

Non-con. On the Citadel. There’s a serial rapist going around targeting Rickless Morty’s. Detective Rick is determined to catch the Rick responsible, his Morty was a victim of the rapist and killed himself over it. Problem is the culprit looks like a plain normal Rick. One Morty was different from the rest, most skittered away to avoid Rick’s and the Cop Morty’s has to tend to them. This Morty however clung to Rick like a lifeline. Rick’s gut told him this Morty knew more than he was letting on.

After the events of S5, Rick decides it’s time to make a change. He’s tired, old, he wants to settle down. To do that he needs to sober up. No more alcohol, no more drugs. It isn’t easy going cold turkey, it’s painful, he’s going through all sorts of widthdrawl. But sweet little Morty is there to help him through all of it, cleaning up his vomit, keeping his temperature down, keeping Rick away from anything that would help him get any sort of fix, soothing him, even feeding Rick when he’s too exhausted to feed himself. It hurts, but Morty is worth it.

In this dimension Rick isn’t the smartest man alive. He’s just a loving father and grandfather who moved in with his daughter to be closer to his grandchildren. Morty loves his grandpa so much and they spend so much time together. Ever since Morty was a child he liked to sit on grandpas lap and cuddle up to him. This hasn’t changed now that he’s a teenager. Behind closed doors the two are much closer than anyone would ever suspect.

Set during that whole ride scene during The Vindicators. Rick’s drunken video confession ends up being a love confession and marriage proposal to Morty. Morty evaluates his feelings for Rick on the ride back. When Rick asks him what happened, Morty just smiles and says “yes”. He knows Rick doesn’t remember but he’s the smartest man in the universe, he’ll figure it out... eventually. BONUS: Million Ants comments that he senses a great deal of love and affection all of a sudden.

Summer POV. She sees the way they act, how they look at each other. How devoted they are to one another. They’re hopelessly in love and neither wants to admit it for the obvious reasons. In this infinitely cruel multiverse she doesn’t understand their hangups and why they’d deny themselves this shred of happiness. She wants them both to be happy, she really does. The day it finally happens she’s happy enough to cry.

Beth finds out about Rick and Morty. Instead of lashing out over the wrongness of it she turns on Morty, accusing him of stealing her dad away, calling him a slut, asking what was so special about him. Rick is stunned. Summer and Jerry run to them, Summer instantly getting between Morty and their mother, holding him close while he sobs into her chest. Jerry tried to pacify Beth, leading her away. Of all things Rick never expected Beth to accuse her own child of being to blame here. He was the adult, she should be angry with him. He leaves Morty with Summer, he needs to have a serious discussion with Beth about everything. NOTE: Beth is infatuated with Rick and is jealous of Morty. Rick has no such feelings for Beth and is in love with Morty.

In this dimension, Morty’s parents and sister died when he was six. Jerry’s parents had already passed so Morty has no one left to be his guardian except Rick. So Rick moves into the Smith household so he won’t have the uproot Morty’s life. Their relationship dynamic turns out quite different from other Rick’s and Morty’s because of it. For example, Rick is haggling over a deal in space, he’s being mean and aggressive about it. Then Morty wanders in just when Rick is about to get violent. Rick here’s Morty say “grandpa?” in a sweet little voice, not understanding what’s going on. Rick’s attitude does a 180, going into doting grandpa mode, saying “hi, sweetie, grandpa and his friend are almost done talking so go wait in the car, sweetheart”. As soon as Morty’s gone he reverts back to being violent. Basically, Rick only shows his doting grandpa side in front of Morty, he doesn’t want Morty to see his hyper aggressive side.

Evil Rick x Evil Morty. Possessive Protectivness. Morty hates Rick, but there was one good thing about him. Come hell or highwater, Rick wouldn’t let others hurt Morty. It becomes easy for Morty to manipulate Rick into getting rid of problems this way. All Morty has to do is tell him someone tried to hurt him and Rick will kill them no questions asked.

Past Non-Con & Child Abuse. During the S5 finale, Morty asks Evil Morty just what the hell his Rick did to him to make him hate Rick’s so much. Evil Morty lashes out, tells Morty he won’t just tell him - no, if he loves Rick so much then he needs to experience the pain himself. EM jabs Morty with another memory device and Morty doesn’t just see the memories, he experiences them, feels them. All the rape, abuse, death, torture, the fear. He vomits when he comes back to reality. His Rick looks concerned, but Morty is shaking like a leaf staring at him. Morty can’t see his Rick without seeing Evil Rick. Evil Morty asks him if he understands now why he hates all Rick’s. What happens next?

Big Bad Wolf Rick x Little Red Riding Hood Morty. Dub-con. Morty’s mother tells him to go deliver some food to his Grandpa Rick’s workshop, but not to stray from the path because ‘Wolves’ (which is code for ‘those creepy pedos who hang out in the woods and need to bang kids to return to human’) will get him. Along the way a Wolf tries to lure him off the trail. Morty doesn’t fall for it. Eventually he reaches his Grandpa’s workshop. Something is off about his Grandpa’s voice. And ears. And teeth. And eyes. Also all that body hair. Yeah, Morty can see where this is going. The Wolf reveals that he’s actually Morty’s Grandpa Rick, throws him on the bed, telling Morty he’s going to ‘eat’ him. Okay Morty didn’t expect him to actually be his Grandpa so he’s nervous now. But wait, if Rick fucks him then he’ll go back to normal, right? He can do that for his beloved Grandpa, he has to.

Pet Names. Morty calls Rick by pet names too. What really gets Rick going is when Morty calls him “stud”.

Bottom!Rick. When Rick gets really emotional while drunk, he wants to bottom. He wants to be loved, filled, comforted, praised. He cries throughout the whole thing, but Morty knows it’s just because he’s feeling vulnerable. Morty likes to take care of Rick when he’s like this.

Bottom!Rick. It’s their first time and Morty is a nervous wreck. Rick takes the lead in a different way, riding Morty cowgirl style. To be honest, Morty is pretty small and Rick is pretty loose down there so it’s physically not as great as Rick would like but it feels nice and Morty sure as hell enjoyed it. Didn’t exactly last very long.

Orgasm Control Training. Morty can’t control his damn dick so Rick decides to train him to hold back his orgasms. Cock cages, chastity belts, cock rings, nothing seems effective so he trains Morty’s body to need prostate orgasms instead. Which is to say now Morty can’t cum without having his prostate stimulated and he can’t do that without Rick’s fingers or his dick. He knows. He’s tried toys and they can’t get the job done.

Prostate Orgasm. Rick’s robot arm has a vibrate function. He loves unraveling Morty by hitting his prostate with his fingers and turning on the vibration. He can tease Morty for hours this way, denying him release when he’s so close. He never lets Morty touch his dick anymore. If Morty wants to get off he needs to beg Rick to abuse his prostate.

Size Difference Kink. Stomach Buldge. Rick is like 6’4-6” tall while Morty is only like 5’2”. Their dicks have the same proportionate size difference. Rick’s is huge while Morty’s is smaller than average. When Rick fucks him you can actually see the buldge of Rick’s cock in Morty’s guts. Rick loves how tiny and hot Morty is, loves his tiny little dick, his tight ass, his little mouth. He hopes Morty doesn’t grow much more because he doesn’t wanna lose his cute little Morty.

Hand Holding. Rick’s taken up the habit of holding Morty’s hand like he’s a child everywhere they go.

Rick contemplated moving into a younger body to spend more years with Morty. When he brings this up Morty isn’t keen on the idea. Turns out Morty isn’t really attracted to Rick’s younger selves, he fell in love with Rick as an old man and that’s just how he likes him. Sure if it’ll help Rick stick around longer he gets it but does he have to go too much younger? Like Morty could be okay with a 50 or 60 year old Rick. Rick decides to stick with his current body for a while longer.

Yandere Rick. Non-con. Captivity. Traditional Wife Kink. Rick won’t allow anyone to even lay eyes on his precious Morty. He takes him off world, on an isolated planet, keeps him locked up in a cozy little home just for the two of them. Rick gave up on most of his adventures, only leaving for short periods of time. Morty is expected to keep the house clean, make dinner, do all the chores, and most importantly take care of his husbands sexual needs. Morty is terrified but, so long as he doesn’t fuck up any of his wifely duties, Rick is gentle with him. If he burns dinner, forgets his chores, anything — Rick punishes him, he sees it as Morty not wanting to be with him. It doesn’t make any sense to Morty and he knows this is going to be his life until Rick dies. What Morty truly hates is that he looks forward to Rick fucking him each night. In those moments he’s able to lay back and let Rick do all the work, Rick wants him to feel good during it after all. It’s also the only time Morty gets leeway on his chores because Rick gets cuddly after sex. When Morty gets sick he tells him he won’t have to do any work today too. Morty doesn’t want this at all but he finds these peaceful moments.

#rick and morty #rickorty #c 137cest #rickmorty #prompts

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granolabird · 3 years

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Meeting the Midnites

Still no more Hournite content for this week, so I continue to make my own. Post 2x11 Beth takes Doctor Mcnider to meet Rick. We get a lot of angsty Rick at the start, but have faith! It ends on a hopeful note :)

Warnings: N/A

Taglist @hournites @bethchapelsbonnet

If you’d like to be added to my weekly Hournite fic tag list feel free to ask :)

Rick isn’t sure how long he’s been staring at the ceiling in his cell. He’s pretty sure it’s been days, but it’s hard to tell. The sun peeks through the cell window, his only indicator of what the time may be. It’s morning he knows that for sure. He hasn’t gotten much sleep since he got the call that Courtney was dead. He feels like it’s his fault. If he had been there, he could’ve helped, he knows he could’ve. But instead he went and got himself locked up, and now Courtney was dead. One of his closest friends, gone. He can’t help the thoughts that begin to flood his mind, all the self-blame and self hatred and everything in between. He wants to get out, needs to get out. He can’t let anyone else get hurt. He has to protect them. His mind flickers to Beth when he thinks about protecting everyone. She’s probably next. The rest of his friends had been taken out, and she was next. If he couldn’t protect her… He tries not to think about what he would do if something happened to Beth and he couldn’t help her. The way he would feel, knowing he couldn’t save her. Instead he reels his mind in, and tries to focus on better memories, happier thoughts.

Beth taught Rick that whenever his mind starts to wander, he should focus on something that makes him happy. A happy memory to cancel out all his fears and anxieties. It takes him a moment to settle on a memory, but his mind flickers to him and Beth at the diner. The way she smiled as they clinked their milkshake glasses together, the way she was so excited to give Rick all her whipped cream. The way his heart fluttered as she looked at him. He just wants to be back there, smiling, laughing, hanging out, being in love.

The thought is so quick Rick can barely register it. He doesn’t think he wants to register it. Love is a dangerous thing, and something that judging on his family history, is a notorious killer. His family loved him so much it got them killed. For years Rick thought he was just going to let his anger consume him. One day he would just… Pick a fight he couldn’t win and just never get back up. That was his trajectory, his goal, to burn as quickly and brightly as humanly possible. He thought it was for the best. He wouldn’t die like his family, he wouldn’t die for someone else. Nobody could ever get close enough to him to fall in love. That was how it should be. He would die alone, and angry. But now? His whole worldview has shifted all because of one Beth Chapel. Sure the others helped, gave him friends, people to connect with, but Beth is different. She was the catalyst, the one who stood up and told him why his self hatred, his rage, was so wrong. She had faith in him, and put her heart on her sleeve so that he could see he wasn’t worthless. That he was worth something. He’s starting to realize why his family died for him, the kind of love they felt. He’s known he’s felt something for Beth for a long time, but he never thought it would get this far. Never thought his feelings would get this powerful.

And yet here he is. Here he is.

Rick finds himself starting to doze off as he thinks about Beth, a sense of calm overcoming him. Just as he’s about to drift into unconsciousness, however, footsteps awake him. It’s several this time, not just the one guard as per usual. This seems different, the steps are hurried, and Rick rushes to push himself up wondering what the commotion is about. Suddenly, the guard appears, followed by an older man and-

“Beth!” Rick scrambles up from his bed, rushing to the bars. “What are you doing here?” “Coming to visit you!” Beth sounds oddly chipper given everything Rick knows about her current situation. “Is everything okay? Did Eclipso attack again? Are you hurt?” “No, no! Nothing like that. Rick, Courtney is alive! And Cindy! And Doctor Mcnider!” Beth gestures to the man beside her enthusiastically. “That’s Doctor Mcnider?” Rick asks, all his attention suddenly turning to the man. He’s a lot younger than he thought Doctor Mcnider would be, but he’s sporting a wide smile, glancing between Rick and Beth as if he’s not sure which one he’s more excited to see. “A pleasure to meet you, mister Tyler. You’re the spitting image of your father.” Mcnider seems a little in awe, and Rick suddenly turns sheepish. “Thank you, uh, it's good to meet you too.” Rick rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, but Mcnider just nods as if Rick has said something wise. “Beth has told me so much about you, it’s wonderful to meet my former colleague's son.” Mcnider glances at Beth who is beaming from beside him, and Rick can’t help but smile along. “She seems to have really taken a liking to you.” Mcnider continues, and suddenly Beth is the embarrassed one, ducking her head as Rick feels that flutter in his heart again.

The guard leaves eventually, after deeming Mcnider and Beth safe enough to talk to Rick alone. That’s when the real explanation of everything that has happened begins. Beth tells Rick all about how Doctor Mcnider contacted her to tell everyone Courtney was safe, and how The Shade had brought them back by using his powers. In a more solemn tone, she tells Rick all about how The Shade died, having used the last of his energy to save Courtney, Cindy, and Doctor Mcnider. Rick clings onto her every word, just glad he doesn’t have to talk to her over a tinny phone. This is Beth’s voice unfiltered, it feels like it's been years since he’s heard her so clearly. Doctor Mcnider chips in to fill in the blanks of the story, what it was like in the shadow realm. Eventually the story is complete, and Rick has a general understanding of how they got here, to see him.

“One more question?” Rick asks from where he now leans against the bars, straining to get as close to Beth as possible. “How did you guys get in here? To the cells? They don’t usually let people back here.” Mcnider and Beth glance at each other awkwardly, and Rick begins to worry just a bit. “Well, we told them it was urgent…” Beth mutters, and Doctor Mcnider is quick to explain what she’s getting at. “We told them I’m your therapist. I’m here to check up on you with your… partner. I said it was important for the two of you to see each other for your mental health. I have all the papers, although they are all rather old. They don’t seem to think you’re that dangerous of a criminal, so they just let us right in. Not too much resistance really.” Mcnider explains, and Rick pauses for a moment to process. An innovative way to get in, sure, but Rick's brain is latched on to Beth being his partner. He knows that Mcnider is avoiding the word girlfriend. Rick isn’t stupid. They said Beth was his girlfriend. And she agreed to it. Rick half laughs at this, then realizes he laughed aloud and quickly stops himself. “Well that’s one way to go about it.” Rick says with a soft smile, looking at Beth who is too busy adjusting her goggles nervously to notice his staring. “Well, after everything I’d heard from Beth, along with the fact that you’re my good friend's son, I knew I had to see you. I am sorry about your situation, I do hope we can figure a way to get you out of here.” Mcnider offers. “Yeah. Yeah, I hope I can get out of here too.” Rick says with a sigh, and Beth looks over to him with wide concerned eyes. “We will get you out of here Rick. You’re innocent!” She chimes in, and Rick can’t help but notice the proud look that crosses Mcnider’s face. It warms Rick’s heart that perhaps he isn’t the only one who sees how incredible Beth is. It’s clear the rest of the world is starting to take notice too.

They chat idly for a while, Mcnider telling Rick all about his father, and Beth offering stories of all the incredible things Rick has done in comparison. Rick doesn’t think he’s anywhere near the hero his dad was, but Beth seems to think the opposite. The way she describes Rick makes him seem like the greatest hero that ever lived, and he has to chime in every once and a while to explain that no, he really isn’t that cool. Beth just waves him off every time he butts in, and tells him he really is that cool. Mcnider chuckles, but listens closely, nodding and smiling at Rick. After a good long while, Mcnider adjusts himself, and glances at the door. “I suppose it’s been a while. Beth the others are probably waiting for us, we should get going.” Beth glances at Rick once more, before looking back at Doctor Mcnider solemnly. “Doctor Mcnider, do you think you could talk to the guard for a while? If that’s alright with you, I’d just like to talk to Rick a bit more before we go.” Beth is rushing her words, clearly nervous but Mcnider responds with a knowing smile. “Of course. I’ll be waiting for you, whenever you’re ready.” and with that Doctor Mcnider is gone, disappearing down the jail corridor.

As soon as Doctor Mcnider is out of sight, Beth immediately begins to chatter. “Rick, how are you holding up? You can tell me the truth now that Mcnider is gone, I know you wanted to seem tough in front of him but I can tell you’re not okay. If you want to talk, I’m here.” Beth is clinging to the bars of his cell like her life depends on it. “I’m okay Beth, really. Well, as okay as I can be in a jail cell. I’m doing alright.” “Right. Okay. I just, I just worry about you.” “Don’t. I don’t want to stress you out. I’m okay here Beth I promise.” “If you say so.” Beth seems to resign to her fate. There’s a pause, not quite awkward, but heavy with unsaid feelings and emotions. “Hey Rick, I’m, uh sorry about the whole lying about being your, uh, partner to get in here. I don’t know if it made you uncomfy, I mean it made me a little uncomfy. I don’t like lying much less to officers of the law but I just wanted to make sure you-” Beth is rambling in a panicked way. Rick wishes he could reach through the bars to kiss her but he can’t. Instead, he rests his hand atop hers where she grips the bars, and she falls silent instantly. “Beth. It’s fine. I’m just happy to see you again. I feel like it’s been forever.” Beth smiles up at him, so soft and concerned and sad and Rick wishes he could make her feel better. Feel more confident that everything is going to be okay. He wishes he could let her know that yeah, everything is going to turn out, but he can’t. He can’t because he’s not even sure if things will turn out.

“Yeah. It does feel like it’s been forever.” Beth’s voice is quiet as she stares at Rick, and he wonders in that moment what she’s thinking. Does she feel the same way? Is she trying to figure out what he’s thinking? Is she thinking about how awful he looks right now? Rick will never know. Instead of asking all the questions in his head, Rick simply rests his head against the bars with a huff. “I miss you guys. All of you. I miss you, Beth. I just wanna be out of here.” “I know. You will be soon. I promise, we’ll get you out of here. You just have to hold on.” Rick tightens his grip on Beth’s hands and nods, steadying his breathing as he tries not to cry. “Right. I’ll keep holding on. For you.” “Thank you.” They lull back into a brief silence, before Beth glances over her shoulder worriedly. “I think I have to get going Rick, I’m so sorry.” She seems torn, but Rick lets go of her hands and gestures for her to go. “It’s okay Beth. Go. I’ll be alright.” “Okay. I’ll be sure to see if I can get Doctor Mcnider to help visit again soon. He really likes you, you know? I can tell.” “Yeah, I gathered as much. He looked like he was fascinated by me, really it was kinda scary.” They both laugh at this, before Beth glances down the hall again. “I’ll be back as soon as possible Rick! Don’t get too lonely without me.” “I’ll try my best not to.” And with that, they share one final smile and then Beth is gone, rushing down the hall to catch up with Doctor Mcnider.

Once he’s sure they’re gone, Rick flops back down on his bed with a sigh. When he stares at the ceiling now, however, he no longer feels dread. He feels hope. Doctor Mcnider will protect Beth in Rick’s absence. Mcnider will protect the whole team. They’re safe, in good hands without Rick. And when Rick finally gets out, he’ll be there to help again. For the first time in a long time Rick is starting to believe it’s all going to turn out, and it’s all thanks to Beth Chapel, for turning his worldview around all over again.

#One day we'll get more hournite content #eventually #Hournite #Stargirl #Stargirl spoilers #hourman #dr midnite #beth chapel #Rick Tyler #beth x rick #charles mcnider #dr mcnider

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beatleszeppelin · 3 years

Text

You're A... Inexperienced Chapter 2

Summary: On watch one night you find out some thing that Daryl has never done. And you offer him some experience.

Category: Friends to Lovers, Eventual Mild Smut, just a good ol’ time

Paring: Daryl x reader (second person)

Warnings/Includes: General Walking Dead grossness, Smut (but not in this chapter), swearing, use of weapons, non-graphic hunting, mention of past child abuse, (let me know if you see anything else)

Word count: 3k

Chapter 1 Masterlist

Chapter 2 Naked in a Lake

The next few days were fairly uneventful. Seeing Daryl only in passing. He stayed outside when you were in; you stayed outside when he stayed in.

Not even shifts brought you together. Since the fall of Woodbury, there have been plenty of new people taking shifts to give you all a break.

Most of your time was spent helping with the kids in the library when Carol was too busy doing important things to “babysit”. Or you occasionally helped out at the farm on the south side of the prison. Rick and Hershel had started it over the past few months, and already it had yielded some fine meals.

Those meals were also made courtesy of Daryl, who went out into the woods on the daily, not going far, but far enough to be out all day and come back with a belt full of squirrels and rabbits by night. You had no idea how he did it or how far he went, but he seemed to be used to the days of solitude, in nature alone.

That was all until he planned to go out a bit farther, only for a couple days, but that was more that he had been gone in a while, more than anyone had been alone for a while. When he shared these plans, you decided that you would go out hunting with him, you know, because there is safety in numbers, (and you were dying to see what he spent so much time doing everyday).

So when morning came, and it was time to leave you brought your bag and followed him to the gate. He squinted at you being blinded by the morning light that rose over the prison. “I’m coming with you, is that alright?” You asked him knowing that he couldn’t argue. You awaited his response, but it never came, instead he had the gate opened and held his arm out like a gentleman letting you lead.

You guys walked past the spikes that guarded the outside of the gates, just as the queens guards once did outside of Buckingham palace. Kicking rocks and dust clouds along the path, walking went fairly slow. Not much to say, not much to do this early in the morning. You hadn’t even waited for Carl and Carol’s shift, which normally signified morning, to start before you had left. (You were sure he had said good-bye to them, Rick, and Judith the night before though. He was good like that.)

When the sun, which was barely peering over the land when you left, had risen enough to give you a long shadow, stretched out in front of you; you decided it was time to eat. Taking the backpack off your shoulders, and unzipping it when it was in front of you, you pulled out a small loaf of bread. You broke it in half and handed some to Daryl. He gnashed into it like a rabid dog, grunting a thank you in between bites.

You nibbled off bites as you walked, trying to savor it as something to do. The scenery of trees and a dirt path was getting old. You couldn’t understand how someone could go out along this path all day every day.

It was hot, too. Hot and sweaty. By mid-day you felt as though you were dragging, lifting your legs in a pedantic manner. Daryl’s hair was stuck to his forehead, and he had stripped his poncho, just left in a cut off flannel. He seemed to be perfectly fine in the heat though, barely even touching his water.

You wonder if he stayed outside a lot before as well. There’s something about him that makes it so hard to imagine him in his house, in a domestic setting. Did he do the dishes, and make himself food? Was his room clean, did he make his bed every morning before work? Did he have a job? What did he do? But you know that wondering these things will only pass the time, because there is no way he’d ever casually mention his previous life.

People had tried guessing, to no avail. Beth’s new boyfriend, Zach, was the leader of the guessers, being followed by the children, and you’ve even discussed it with both Michonne and Carol before. It would really take something special to make him confess his stories to someone, who knows who could get that close to him though.

You spent the majority of your walk picturing him in an office setting, wearing a tie and answering phones. Or at a gas station glaring at little kids who try to stuff candy bars up their sleeves, scaring them into obeying the law.

Mechanic seemed to fit best. Not a sleazy mechanic that finds more things to break to get

some extra cash, but one that spends day and night tracking down an original piece to some old beat up motorcycle. He wouldn’t charge extra for labor, cause he’d be doing the thing he loved most. He would treat each bike as his own, tirelessly making it perfect until the finishing pieces were in their exact place, like the sprinkles on a sundae.

“Gonna cut into the woods, right here.” He nodded, directing you.

“Oh yeah, sorry,” you said, snapping out of your little daydream. “Ya’ okay?” He ducked down, meeting your eyes though his hair.

“Yeah, I’s just thinking.”

“‘Kay, just watch out in here. Can’t make too much sound.”

You walked through the dense forest, making as little noise as you possibly could. Heel, toe; heel, toe. Only cracking branches and crunching leaves every few steps, listening to Daryl’s deep steadying breaths in between.

He taught you how to lay traps, and snares; different knots and when to use them. By the end of the day you could set your own, with the reassurance that he would help kill whatever you caught. No matter how many walkers you would kill, and how much bad shit you’ve seen. It still felt weird killing animals to eat.

The trapping, and mapping out your paths came to an end as night fell. The darkness made it too difficult to achieve the superb knots you were tying, and the sub par snares that Daryl would set, so you two decided to call it a night, sleeping in shifts back to back.

The next day went the same, but it was now time for the actual hunting. You left the killing to Daryl, using your lack of a silent long range weapon, like the crossbow as an excuse. You guys sat up wind, and out of the line of sight of any animals that may pass. It was quiet, and you understood why he liked it.

Hunting wasn’t all killing like you had imagined; hunting was 99% sitting quietly in nature, 1% killing.

You can’t lie about the fact that when a deer came into sight, you closed your eyes and didn’t open them until you heard the click of the trigger on the crossbow. You didn’t want to see the animal die, but you can’t feel bad about how many people that deer could feed.

Daryl took care of the dirty work, cleaning, and “prepping” the deer to be taken home. You sat by and watched.

Once the task was complete, you started back for the prison, hoping it would cut some of the time of the walk back tomorrow. This time was cut short by the approaching darkness of night.

You two set up a small camp to spend the ever closer night. And with cans on strings, as tripwire, and your backs to each other, you two felt it was safe enough to get some rest, that was until the cans rattled.

The sounds of metal clanking, shook you from your not so deep sleep. You whipped around to see a walker reaching over your barricade of tangled fishing wire and old soda cans. It stumbled over and grabbed Daryl's boot, luckily he tied up his pant legs with cords to keep from being scratched. You scrambled over to a half awake Daryl and pulled his knife from his pocket, stabbing it into the undead's brain. He nodded graciously as you handed his knife back. You both sat still in the early hours of the morning, breathing heavily until your adrenaline died down.

Your eyes stung from lack of sleep, but it was nothing compared to how Daryl looked. His eyes were puffy, and had dark purple craters around them, and what little you could see of his eyes were bloodshot. His hair stuck up in every which direction, the bangs that normally cover his face, were defying gravity, and exposed his forehead.

“You can sleep, but let's face each other this time,” you planned.

“You sure?” he said groggily.

“Yeah, if you saw yourself, you’d be sure too.”

He scoffed, and pulled his vest out as an acting pillow, tucking one arm under it, and laying his head down. He fell asleep shortly, and you watched.

The expression he made was soft, and innocent, less like a child and more like a puppy that tired out running in a field all day. He subconsciously held his thumb to his mouth. He breathed heavily through his mouth, with quiet snores escaping occasionally.

You didn’t sleep at all that night, you couldn’t let anything disturb the peace. You weren’t tired, though, you actually felt like you had gotten a full night’s rest.

The two of you started home at the crack of dawn, with dull yellow light illuminating the grass you stood on. You took to the woods for your trek home, rather than the long road you took to get there.

Halfway through the day you happened upon a lake that looked beautiful, a direct juxtaposition to everything you had been used to seeing. The water sparkled, and light refracted off the ripples in every which direction. Birds made chirping sounds that echoed through the dense forest, and made a song through the trees.

Daryl grabbed a plastic bottle, and some of the sandy silt that covered the edge of the water, making a makeshift water filter. As he did so, you took off your shorts and threw them aside, wading into the water. The water was greenish, but you could see your feet, and the dust clouding around your steps. The water was warm enough to not give you the chills, but cool enough to be refreshing.

Once the water hit your hips, you took your shirt off and threw it a few feet away from Daryl, joining your shorts, and shortly after your bra. You watched him finish his contraption and fill it.

“Should have some water in an hour or so…” he looked up and saw you, then quickly looked back at his bottle.

“Maybe we could catch a fish or something, too,” you said, smiling at his back. “You should join me in here.”

“Nah” he shook his head.

“Yeah, when was the last time you got cleaned up?”

“I ain’t gonna, someone needs to be a lookout.” He looked up at you, standing his ground. “Anyway, I gotta piss.”

He started walking away and you yelled to him, “Yeah, sure you do, Dixon.” You splashed his way, but he had already walked behind the trees.

A noise came from your left, behind a couple of thick trees. Two walkers stumbled out, slipping on the sandy hill. You didn’t have any weapons on you, and getting back over to your clothes seemed like a death wish. They were closer to the clothes and things than you were. Daryl didn’t even have his crossbow with him, it was in the pile next to the water filter.

You yelled for Daryl, hoping he’d get back before the walkers could reach you. You yelled again, and it drew their attention. They were about at the edge of the water now, and you were fucked… but a whistle came out of the woods.

Daryl showed up and whistled loudly to catch the attention of the dead walking toward you. It worked. They started toward him at a slow pace, and you ran over to the pile of stuff. You picked one off with the crossbow. Daryl tripped backwards on a rock, and the walker stumbled towards him, wishing to bite into the leg that was trying to kick it backwards. He grabbed the rock, lifted it over his head, and smashed it down onto the walker, and hitting it again smashed his head open, covering Daryl in it’s blood. He leaned back and dropped the rock. He took a second to catch his breath.

“Hey, thanks” You said to him as you were naked and dripping like a wet dog.

He sighed and raised his eyebrows. Which you will take as a “no problem.”

Daryl’s hair dripped with blood, guts, and rotting chunks of flesh. His shirt was wet, red, and sweaty. The muddy sand covered his pants and hands, leaving him dirtier than before.

“I guess you have to join me now” you said, still mostly naked.

He begrudgingly kicked off his boots, and slid his vest off down his shoulders, letting it drop on the floor. He started walking to the edge of the water, when you had to stop him.

“What, NO!” You said haulting him, “You are not still wearing your socks.”

He took off his socks, and his pants. He walked into the lake, a couple feet in and the water hit the bottom of his shirt.

You never took Daryl as the type of person to not be okay with taking his shirt off, but here he was: standing in a lake with his shirt on, contemplating whether he should take it off or not. He stood there for a couple seconds before looking at you, and when you gave him a reassuring smile, he took it off. He looked good with it off, you didn’t see a problem, until he turned around.

He whipped around fast to throw his shirt on land, and as he did, you saw his back. He was covered in scars. Yeah, some could be new, from fighting, from surviving, but you take it he’d been surviving for a lot longer than the rest of you had.

The slashes that riddled his skin were old. He could have gotten most of them when he was still a kid. You swallowed hard, he turned and faced you but neither of you met each other's eyes. He got quiet. And as his hand pensively rubbed the back of his neck, as he thought about what you must think of him.

“Hey, come on in the water’s fine,” you said to ease the tension.

It seemingly worked, because the next thing he did was dive under, swimming to you in a second. The water rippled along the path he had swam, and broke around his emerging body. You met his eye. He nodded to you as a thanks, and you shook your head back at him in a no problem kind of way. This practice had become routine, it was easier than constantly owing thanks to the other person for some trivial task such as saving their lives.

He broke eye contact and looked down, “Still gotta piss.”

You snickered. Then stepping back a couple of feet you gestured for him to go right ahead.

He looked at you, head cocked a little, and then the realization hit and his ears turned bright red. He turned around, and you got a better look at his scars. Some were short slashes, some longer, and others crossed over each other. You couldn’t fathom the person that would hit a child, let alone Daryl; Daryl was sweet, and could never have done something that deserved this treatment.

He finished up and faced you, but didn’t meet your eyes. You got a look at him, the man that just pissed in the pool in front of you, his ears were red as well as his cheeks making a bridge across his nose. The blush trailed down to his upper chest in splotches, like watercolors splaying out.

He chewed the corner of his thumb and said, “Ya’ know, I used to piss the bed as a kid.”

“I mean we all did,” You said. “Come here.”

He complied, “Nah, I mean ‘til I’s like 8 or so.”

“Bend over,” you told him.

He leaned back and you started washing his hair for him, detangling it with your fingers, and picking things out of it like you were monkeys.

“I remember a couple times it happened, had to sneak out late at night and do my laundry in the bathroom, so no one’d hear me. But this once, my dad wasn’t home so, I didn’t get… but my mom had this whole ‘nother way of doing it. She took my clothes. Pinned me down, Merle helped. She put a diaper on me, made me sleep outside.”

“When you were 8?” You cupped some water and dumped it over his head.

“Uh huh, made me wear ‘em to school, too. Under my clothes. Said if I took ‘em off she’s gonna tell my dad, so I didn’t.” He went back to biting his thumb.

“That shouldn’t have happened to you,” you said, moving to wash his shoulders.

He shrugged, and flinched away when you ran your finger over a scar on his back.

“You know, stress and trauma cause children to start wetting the bed later on in childhood, it's called enuresis, it wasn’t your fault,” You splashed water on his shoulders, noticing the freckles made by the sun.

“Done?” He asked, standing up straight.

“What?”

“Am I done?” he asked and shook his hair out like a dog.

“Yeah, you’re good.”

Daryl quickly made his return to land, you however stayed in the water until the filter was done giving you each a bottle. Every once in a while you catch him glance over at you floating naked in the lake, but his eyes would quickly divert.

#daryl dixon #daryl x reader #twd fanfic #twd #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead #tw past child abuse #I love the lake scene

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kirain · 3 years

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What's with that post? Dutch LOVES Hosea. They're literally gay. They held hands and raised two sons together. They're so extremely gay, respect it!

Two men: Showing affection

Tumblr: They're fucking!

...In all seriousness, I have absolutely no idea what I said or did to warrant this message, but I can only assume it's because I said in another post that Dutch doesn't respect Hosea? Which he doesn't?

They're supposed to be partners, but he certainly doesn't treat him like one. He doesn't listen to him, he yells at him when he's coughing or in pain, and he makes him sleep on the cold, hard, dirty ground. He even openly ignores him in Colter, in front of the other men, and rides off when he tries to stop him from robbing Cornwall's train. I'm not saying they don't have a rich history or good moments, but it's a toxic relationship at best. Not exactly something worth praising.

If you don't believe me, you can find unique dialogues as the game progresses, verifying he’s lost all faith in Dutch. To the point that he even starts telling other members to leave. Abigail, John, Arthur, Lenny, Tilly, Sadie -- he tells all of them to leave. During a dominoes game we played together he even said, "Maybe it's just me, but Dutch seems to be getting more and more unhinged." And as early as chapter one he told Arthur, "Try to stop Dutch getting all of you killed, because I'm about beginning to think he's finally lost his mind."

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There are also other conversations where Hosea’s disappointment with Dutch is far more blatant. He basically tells Arthur he’s been disillusioned for a while and wishes the gang would change, but when Arthur asks what they’d do instead of thieving, Hosea says, “I don’t know. I never knew. Guess I could never figure that out, neither.” By this point he’s just so dejected and defeatist because he knows Dutch won’t listen to him. He also goes on a whole tirade about how they’ve become “nothing but a bunch of killers”, which breaks his heart, and during a random campfire encounter he bares his soul and flat out tells the gang he no longer believes in Dutch’s “we’re above the law” philosophy.

As for the whole "they're gay" thing? Ship whoever you want. I don't care (they're fictional characters, after all). But don't come onto my blog and demand that I "respect it", because I don't. In fact, I vehemently disagree with you.

First off, Hosea was very happily married and totally devoted to his wife Bessie. So much so that after she died, he was drunk and depressed for a year. He even tried to leave the gang once he married her, but he inevitably drifted back into the life of an outlaw when he failed to find adequate work. Keep that in mind, though -- he left the van der Linde gang. He left Dutch. During the hunting mission, Arthur even says, "I remember you were gone for a long while." But according to Hosea, Bessie supported and accepted his lifestyle, since at the time they were more of a community than a “gang”. They actually helped people, like a Robin Hood band of merry men.

Hosea talking about his wife:

"Since she was ... taken from me, I miss her every day. She's what I think about when I wake up, and what I'm still thinking about when I go to sleep. Confuses me. Confuses me to no end, how a wretched sinner like me could be given someone so perfect, so beautiful to take care of. For once in my wretched life, do my best. And then she dies ... and I live on. Well, at least for now. She’s been gone many years. All them years I was given and she was not, and we’re expected to believe in judgement? What kind of a judge would save me and take her? A foolish one I can’t respect anymore than I can respect myself! I miss her so--!” He pauses, nearly crying. “Forgive me for being so maudlin, but ... it’s a fact. I know we all of us seen more death than life these past few months, but ... well, sometimes the unfairness of it all confuses me.”

In addition, when asked who the two most important people in his life are, he mentions Bessie first, before Dutch. Arguably he's known Dutch longer and he’s still alive and active in his life, but Bessie always comes first. He also says he’s “ready to die” because he’s “ready to join her”.

Please don't disregard this. Hosea is an honest, loyal, loving husband. If it was just a matter of you insisting he's gay, I'd probably have less of a problem (because, sure, that can change for some people and maybe he's bi now), but pairing him with Dutch, when he's so wholly devoted to his wife, is just reprehensible in my opinion. Dutch isn’t a good man and he treats Hosea quite poorly.

Secondly, yes, you're partially right. Hosea did raise two kids with Dutch. Actually, he raised four. Arthur, John, Tilly, and Mary-Beth. They were all young teens when they joined, but Dutch and Hosea weren't the only "parents". Grimshaw and Bessie also helped raised them. Arthur even says Bessie taught him how to play dominoes and mentions that he misses her. So I don't really understand the correlation here. You don't have to be in a sexual/romantic relationship to raise kids. And keep in mind that the story takes place during a time when entire communities worked together to raise children. Ever heard the expression "it takes a village to raise a child"?

Overall, I'm simply not comfortable overlooking Hosea's marriage and Dutch's abuse. To put it into perspective, it'd be like writing a fic where Molly and Dutch are in a happy, healthy relationship, despite all the evidence to the contrary. I'm just not the type of person who's willing to change a character's entire personality and history in order to make them fit my personal narrative.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption #2 #hosea matthews #dutch van der linde #arthur morgan #john marston #lenny summers #mary beth #susan grimshaw #bessie matthews #tilly #rockstar #van der linde gang #anon

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dixonsmonroe · 3 years

Text

Near To You

Summary: Daryl and Rick had everything, until they didn’t. But when Daryl meets Jesus, he learns that there are always second chances when it comes to love.

Pairing: Daryl x Rick, Daryl x Jesus

Word count: 4k

Author’s notes: i actually found this in my google docs other day and apparently i wrote this 2 years ago so enjoy!

Warning: mentions of smut (18+), fluff, pining, canon level violence, i will never stop loving desus

Daryl hadn’t taken kindly to Rick right away. He didn’t like him when they were still at the camp and Rick had a gun to Daryl’s head, and told him in his best ‘good-cop’ voice, “We don’t kill the living.” It was like that for a while; anytime Rick started off on his pep talks, Daryl wanted to knock him in the teeth. The longer Merle was gone, though, the pep talks became less annoying and even kind of comforting.

After they left the CDC and ended up at the farm, Daryl still kept his distance, but did whatever Rick needed him to. He actually enjoyed being around him, and working in a group as a team. He felt useful around the farm; it was work he knew how to do. He also noticed the only time he was ever annoyed at Rick anymore was when Shane was around. Shane would make some dumbass remark, Daryl would antagonize him, and Rick would keep them from fighting. Shane would leave and Rick would just look apologetically at Daryl, who would shrug it off and assure everything was fine.

Nothing had ever happened until the prison. They had been there for a while, and after Lori died, Rick had started to come back to them bit by bit. He was currently in a peaceful farming phase, which was plentiful for the group, but still a little out of character.

Rick met Daryl in the guard tower for first watch shifts after everyone went to bed.

“The place is lookin’ good,” Rick looked out over the whole prison, over the crops they had grown and the reinforcements around the walls. “We really made this place home.”

“Took a lotta work, but it was worth it.” Daryl replied, smoking his cigarette, “You got us all here.”

“Couldn’t have done it without my right hand,” he smiled. Daryl stifled a grin and looked away, trying not to let Rick see him blush.

They had been together like this a thousand times, just the two of them, hanging out. They were best friends, they were family. But sometimes Rick would laugh a certain way or he’d get all focused and solemn or he would push his hair out of his face and Daryl would freeze up. Rick was a strong leader, and a good friend. He had Daryl’s full loyalty.

“How’ve you been doing?” he asked.

“Much better. Rick nodded. “I know I lost it a little bit, but I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and I’m figuring things out.”

“You need anything, lemme know.”

Rick stared out the window in silence for a few moments. “There might be something.”

Daryl glanced at Rick, who was now looking at him, albeit a bit nervously.

“What’s that?”

Rick looked hesitant now, like he was mentally backing out of whatever he was going to say. He leaned closer to Daryl still, until their hands were touching. Daryl glanced at Rick out of the corner of his eye. He could feel Rick’s body heat so incredibly close, and it made him shiver. Rick finally took his hand and held it as they looked out across the yard. Daryl fought back a grin and gave Rick’s hand a squeeze, leaning against him.

Nothing more had happened until about two weeks later. In those two weeks there had still been plenty of secret hand holding, stolen smiles and glances, the like. But one day after an especially tolling run, Daryl had made his decision. It had been rough out there; it was him, Rick, and Maggie, the car had stalled and they almost got taken out by a hoard. Daryl watched Rick almost get bit and he felt like he was about to lose everything he cared about. He had thrown the walker off of him after stabbing it and helped Rick up. He patted Daryl’s shoulder and nodded towards the car.

The moment they knew they were completely alone back at the prison, Daryl kissed Rick. The best part was Rick kissed him back, as if this was normal, as if it was how it had always been. Rick’s hand went to Daryl’s cheek and they leaned their foreheads together.

“I—“ Daryl started but Rick cut him off with another kiss.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I wanted to do it first, but I couldn’t find the right time.”

“Me too.” Daryl replied. “Figured you almost dyin’ was as good a reason as any.”

Rick chuckled, leaning back a bit, thumb running over Daryl’s cheekbone.

That was how it was after that. They didn’t tell anyone, not Glenn, not Carol, not anybody. There were nights where they would sneak off to an abandoned cell or hallway and just take their time, take in every bit of each other.

One night was different. Rick still had Daryl pushed up against the wall, still inside of him as they came down, slowing their breathing.

“I love you,” Rick breathed out so quietly, Daryl wasn’t sure he’d heard it right. He just turned his head around his shoulder and kissed Rick sweet and soft. Rick’s eyes were a little wide, pride and ego slowly melting away.

“I love you,” Daryl said finally. Of course he did. He always had.

It was like that for a while; sneaking off to fuck after everyone went to sleep, spending guard shifts paying attention to their job, but also pausing to make out like teenagers or just talking about everything. It was bliss Daryl had never experienced in his life, and it was with his absolute best friend.

The day the prison got broken into, Daryl left with Beth and there was no sign of Rick anywhere.

He and Beth had been through some shit, Daryl had gotten drunk and acted like a total asshole, and Beth was nothing but understanding, even though he may not have deserved it. That night, they sat on the porch of the house they had found, having a heart to heart. Beth, even with her naive nature that made Daryl have hope but also made him a little bitter. He’d never had the option to be optimistic in his life, always on high alert.

“You wanna know what I was before all this?” Daryl asked softly. “I was no one. Nothin’.”

Beth looked sad for a moment, but nodded for him to keep going.

“Until I found Rick and the group.” He continued. He had never told anyone about him and Rick, never ever. But Beth was understanding, and as much as she talked or sang or whatever, he knew he could trust her. She and Maggie felt like the younger sisters he never had.

“Rick and I—“ he took a breath before he spilled all the things he had never told anyone. “We were together. We’ve always been close, always been his right hand. But at some point it was more than that.”

Beth grinned dreamily. “Do you love him?”

He nodded, a small smile on his face thinking about it. Everything was shit right now, but despite everything he’d said when he yelled at her earlier, he knew they had to find Rick and their family.

“We’ll find them again,” Beth reassured. “We’re going to.”

He had lost Beth. He was alone, until he found the Claimers. He missed Beth, he missed having someone he trusted and who kept him sane. These guys were brutal, they were guys he knew not to cross.

The night they had found the guy Joe was looking for, Daryl heard a voice and immediately knew who he was.

Daryl heard Joe threatening Rick, so he stepped out of the shadows.

“Joe!” he said, causing him to turn towards Daryl. “You gotta let these guys go. They’re good people.”

He made quick eye contact with Rick, careful not to give anything away but screaming on the inside because Rick looked both terrified and relieved to see him. Michonne looked angry, but also so fucking scared at the same time.

He argued with Joe, he really tried.

“Hey, you want blood. I get it.” Daryl put his crossbow down and held his arms out. “Take it from me, man.”

The blows started almost immediately. The other Claimers just started wailing on him as hard as they could. He was praying he didn’t crack a rib or get kicked in the face or fucking die.

Joe’s voice was barely audible to him, Daryl’s heart pounding in his ears. “First, we’re gonna beat Daryl to death, then we’re gonna have the girl. Then the boy. Then I’m gonna kill you.”

Daryl knew he had to get up, he had to fight back, he had to save them. He had seen a man drag Carl out of the car and throw him on the ground, holding him down and unbuckling his belt. Oh, fuck no.

He listened to Rick plead with Joe, pleaded with him to let his son go, just let him go.

A gunshot rang through the air. The men stopped beating Daryl, and he got up to fight. It was rough, and he saw Rick stagger against the noise, and when Rick seemed almost incapable of fighting any longer, he looked Joe in the eye.

“What are you gonna do now?” Joe taunted, before Rick bit down on his neck and tore out his jugular.

Daryl couldn’t believe what he just saw, Rick unhinged and willing to do anything to protect his own.

They killed the other men, left them in the road and rested until morning.

Rick was sitting on the ground, back against the car, still covered in blood. Daryl poured a little water on a rag and handed it to him.

“We should save that to drink.” Rick said.

“You can’t see yourself, he can.” Daryl nodded toward Carl in the car. Daryl sat down next to him while he cleaned his face. “I didn’t know what they were.” he said sadly.

“How’d you end up with them?”

Daryl looked down at his lap. “I was with Beth. We got out together. I was with her for a while.”

There was a pause of silence until Rick asked if she was dead. Daryl shook his head and said she was just gone. He told him how he ended up with the Claimers, how they were looking for some guy, how he’d almost left them, but didn’t.

“That’s when I saw it was you three, right when you saw me.” His voice was sad and low. “I didn’t know what they could do.”

“It’s not on you, Daryl.” Rick took his hand. “You bein’ back here with us now, that’s everything.”

This was the first bit of physical contact they’d had since the prison. Daryl finally felt warm, even with how much he hurt after being beaten half to death, Rick’s hand on his was everything he needed right now.

“I love you,” Rick said quietly. “Don’t you ever forget that.”

Daryl nodded, and gave his hand a squeeze. Rick said it, but Daryl could tell he was still shaken up.

“Hey, what you did last night; Anybody would’ve done that.” he said reassuringly.

“No, not that.” Rick replied. Now he looked like he was trying to hold himself together. Rick had gotten violent before, but it was always to protect someone. His family was in danger and he saved them. “It ain’t all of it, but that’s me.”

Daryl knew how sad he looked, but he couldn’t help it. “You’re a good man. You protect your own,” Daryl lowered his voice a bit. “You’re the person I fell in love with, no matter what you do.”

Rick leaned into him until his head was resting on Daryl’s shoulder. Daryl kissed the top of his head and squeezed his hand.

They made it through Terminus. They made it through Grady hospital. They had most of the group back.

They lost Beth.

Daryl barely spoke the entire time they walked towards Washington. His family was there for him, and gave him enough space at the same time. Now that they had more people, Rick was busy leading all of them. Daryl knew it wasn’t his fault, but they began to drift apart. Things were rough, until they found Alexandria. Rick became constable, and had been making friends --and enemies-- all over. Most people respected him, but Daryl felt so out of place.

Rick had spent two nights at Daryl’s house, making sure to not draw attention to themselves. They had sex that night, but it was different. Rick was there with him, of course, but it almost felt sad. Like it was the last time they would be like this. They fit together so well before, but after all this time apart and everything they went through, they were different people.

The next night, they didn’t even fuck. They physically slept together, but that was it. Daryl had been wanting to have this conversation for a while, but he obviously didn’t want to do it after sex.

“Are you good?” Daryl asked as they lay next to each other.

Rick had his elbow on the pillow and rested his face in his hand as he turned towards Daryl. “I’m good. Are you?”

Daryl shrugged. “Feels like things are different. With us.”

Rick nodded solemnly. “I’ve had a lot goin’ on. I’m sorry I haven’t made time for us.”

Daryl shook his head. “Don’t feel bad. You’re doing so much good for everyone.” Daryl sat up then, wrapping his arms around his knees. “I know you’ve been eyeing Jessie. I noticed it almost the moment we got here.”

Rick sat up and put his hand on his shoulder. “I would never, ever do anything to hurt you. Nothing has ever happened with her.”

“I know,” Daryl said sadly. “But I get it. I ain’t the last person on earth.”

“Daryl, I know there’s still people out there, but I made the choice to be with you, you’re not just some guy.” Rick said firmly, but Daryl heard his voice falter. “You’re not just some option.”

“I love you,” Daryl said quietly. “I’ve always loved you and I always will. But I don’t want to hold you back. I’ll always be here for you when you need me, I’ll always do anything for you.”

Rick’s voice cracked. “But?”

Daryl finally looked at him and took in the heartbreak on his face. “But I need to let you go. I want you to be happy, and I’m not what makes you happy anymore.”

Rick looked like the wind had been knocked out of him, but after a moment Daryl could tell he was done denying the truth.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I never wanted to make you feel like you weren’t important. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” Daryl took Rick into his arms and kissed the top of his head. “At least stay tonight?”

“Of course,” Rick said. “Anything for you.”

It took a few weeks before Daryl’s heart stopped feeling like it was going to fall into his stomach every time he saw Rick. He knew Rick had kissed Jessie, and he knew that it never turned into anything more. He stayed on the edges of Rick’s life, trying to keep a little bit of distance so he didn’t die from pining after his lost love.

When they did end up going on a run together, it felt like old times. Not like nothing romantic had ever happened, but that comfort he felt whenever he was with Rick. He missed his best friend, and he was starting to be okay with that being all they were.

That’s when they met Jesus. Daryl was annoyed with him immediately, but he fought back this nagging feeling of attraction. He didn’t trust the guy, and he certainly didn’t want him around his home. But little by little, Jesus started to grow on him. Before Daryl knew it, they were working together a lot more, and they worked together well. He hadn’t felt this way ever; his feelings for Rick were completely different. Jesus was not only charismatic and caring, but he was out and proud. Daryl had had one sexual relationship with a man who was openly gay, before everything went to shit, but it was still before Daryl had come out. He pushed his feelings to the back of his mind, not wanting to think about what another heartbreak would do to him at this point.

The Hilltop was bustling with activity. Everyone was doing some sort of work; laundry or farming or building something. Daryl was making new arrows on the Barrington House porch, and Rick was beside him lacing his boots and waiting for Maggie to come by. She and Rick had some sort of business to discuss between the two communities.

“First nice day we’ve had in a while,” Rick said, pushing his curls out of his face. “You goin’ hunting before the party tonight?”

“Yeah, gonna try and bring back something big.” Daryl nodded. “I don’t know what you mean, though. ‘S fuckin’ hot.”

Rick laughed. “Maybe if you didn’t wear a leather vest everywhere.”

Daryl rolled his eyes and went back to his arrows. He eventually felt Rick nudge him, and when he looked up he saw Jesus and Maggie down the street walking towards them.

“Y’know, I think he likes you.” Rick said.

Daryl looked at him and scoffed. Rick was trying to wingman for him now, great.

Daryl looked back in Jesus’ direction. He did actually have a little bit of a crush on the guy; he was a good goddamn fighter, but still a gentle, caring person. He certainly wasn’t hard on the eyes, either.

“Hey,” Jesus greeted them as they walked onto the sidewalk.

“Rick, you ready?” Maggie asked.

Rick stood up and patted Daryl on the shoulder. “Ready. Hey, Jesus, you busy today?”

Jesus shrugged. “No, not really. Do you need something?”

“Yeah,” Rick said, the smile undeniable in his voice. Daryl knew exactly what was about to happen, fuck. “Daryl’s goin’ huntin’ today. Trying to have enough food for the party tonight and then some, couldn’t hurt to have an extra pair of hands.”

Jesus smiled. “Yeah, absolutely.”

Rick nodded and walked off the porch and off with Maggie.

“Bye, Daryl!” Maggie threw Daryl a smirk over her shoulder. This was a goddamn conspiracy, Daryl knew it.

“So, when were you planning on heading out?” Jesus asked.

Daryl cleared his throat and pushed his hair out of his face. “Probably twenty minutes? Gotta finish these arrows and then I’m ready.”

“Cool, I’ll grab my stuff and meet you back here?”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah, that works.”

Jesus walked toward his trailer and Daryl watched after him the whole way. Jesus definitely liked him as a friend at least, they had started staying closer to each other during missions, often opting to work together. They made a good team, and Rick definitely noticed, putting them together on jobs a lot more recently.

It had been a good hunt, Daryl and Jesus hauled back a deer and a few squirrels. When they were done there was about an hour before the party started. They started walking toward Barrington House so Daryl could get changed and Jesus and Maggie could catch up on the day.

“Y’know, I’m kind of excited for tonight.” Jesus said optimistically. “I never used to be the party type, but this feels more...I don’t know, comfortable, I guess.”

Daryl nodded. “Parties are different when they’re with family.”

“I don’t know, you seem like a total party animal.” Jesus nudged him and Daryl smirked back at him.

They walked into the house and said hi to Rick in the foyer.

Jesus started heading up the stairs and turned to Daryl. “I’ll find you at the party later.”

“See you then.” Daryl said back, and watched Jesus disappear into Maggie’s office.

“Hey, you’re gonna get drool on the floor if you don’t stop now,” Rick teased. Daryl snapped out of it and turned toward him.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” Daryl huffed.

“Yeah, you do.” Rick smiled. “I know that look on you, Daryl. Remember?”

He shook his head and laughed under his breath. “Shut up, Grimes.”

The party was really, really nice. Everyone was gathered around a bonfire and there were tables of food setup all around. It was homey, and full of community. Daryl leaned against a tree and looked out over the crowd.

“Hey,” Jesus walked up to him then. He looked nice with his hair down as opposed to the bun he put it in when they were hunting. Even with the bun he looked good, which annoyed Daryl to no end. You couldn’t look that good all the time, it wasn’t fair.

“Hi,” Daryl replied. “How’s it goin’?”

“Pretty good, it was nice to shower after today. It really is too hot for that trenchcoat.” Jesus shook his head.

Daryl shrugged. “Could just get a vest.”

Jesus smiled. “Maybe. Yours does look pretty nice.”

“I bet it’d look nice on you,” Daryl smirked. “Too bad we’ll never know.”

“Harsh,” Jesus nudged him.

They joined the party once more, until the kids started to go to bed. The adults stuck around for a while, and everyone was still drinking and eating and having fun. After drinking a good amount of whiskey, Daryl and Jesus had a slight buzz going on. They were laughing together, maybe even flirting a bit, which Daryl didn’t normally know how to do, but with Jesus it was just easy.

Jesus turned to him at one point, and it was like everyone else fell away. He saw Jesus look at his lips, then look away quickly.

“Wanna go drink some more at my place?” he asked. Daryl would’ve been nervous, but the liquid courage helped with that. He was pretty sure he knew what this meant, why Jesus wanted to be alone with him.

“Yeah, I do.”

Back at the trailer, Jesus got two cups and poured some more whiskey for them. He handed Daryl a glass and took a sip of his own. They sat on the couch, Jesus sitting against the arm so he could face Daryl.

“That was pretty fun,” Jesus said. “Felt...normal.”

“Whatever that means,” Daryl sipped his drink. “But yeah, it was nice.”

“I’m glad you’re around more,” Jesus said after a few moments. “It’s really nice getting to see you.”

Daryl blushed and drank a good amount of his whiskey and put it on the table.

“I like bein’ around.” Daryl’s voice was low and gravelly, the alcohol relaxing him. “I like bein’ around you.”

Jesus was the one to blush now, but he seemed a little more confident. They were sitting closer together now, one of them could easily lean in to close the space. Jesus did, after a second of contemplating, and his lips were as soft as Daryl had imagined. Daryl pushed back a bit more, deepening the kiss, and one of his hands instinctively went to Jesus’ hip. Jesus put his hand on the back of Daryl’s neck, holding him there. Jesus pulled away first, putting his forehead against Daryl’s as they breathed each other in.

“Thank god,” Jesus laughed under his breath. “I wasn’t sure if that was going to go well.”

Daryl raised an eyebrow and narrowed his eyes at Jesus. What was that supposed to mean? Did he expect the kiss to be bad?

“No! I mean—“ he put his hand on Daryl’s cheek and looked sincerely into his eyes. “I wasn’t sure if you liked me back. I didn’t know if you’d want me to kiss you or if it was going to freak you out.”

Daryl couldn’t fight the small grin on his face. “I’m glad you did. I didn’t know if you wanted it.”

“Well, I’m glad we’re on the same page now.” Jesus smiled, and for the first time in a long time, Daryl felt like something was going right.

#daryl x rick #daryl x jesus #desus #twd #rickyl #twd fanfic #twd fic #desus fic #desus fanfic #my fic

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holidaywishes · 3 years

Text

Dusk Till Dawn

Requested: 👍

Summary/Request: 22 of the music prompts with Matthew Tkachuk please? “but you’ll never be alone / i’ll be with you from dusk till dawn” (dusk till dawn, zayn & sia) for @chuckythepest

Warning: fluff, maybe some angst, soft smut (I’ll be honest, I changed my mind about having a bit of smut in here or not and it’s not much but it’s there, so...)

Author’s Note: I’m sorry it’s taken me a little bit longer to write but hopefully it gives you what you’re looking for. I’ve never listened to this song so much in my life; I had it playing on repeat as I wrote this so I could really get a feel of what to write. My friend is a huge Matthew Tkachuk fan, really a huge Flames fan in general, but I have to admit I had to watch a lot of interviews to get a feel for the guy. I also wasn’t sure if I wanted it to be an angsty fic or a fluffy one because the song kinda has both vibes so honestly, it’ll be an adventure for the both of us. If you enjoyed this one, here’s the entire list of prompts. Feel free to send your requests through! Stay Golden, loves <3!

masterlist

the other masterlist

You had been on a vacation with a few of your friends in Cancun for about a week when you got the news that everything was going into lockdown

“What does this mean?” your friend, Beth, asked as she paced around the hotel room

“It means that everyone has to stay inside for a bit” you said

“No, what does that mean for us?” she asked again

“I guess it means that we have to isolate when we get home” another of your friends, Jenna, replied as she dropped onto the bed

“I wouldn’t have left if I knew we were gonna come back to a total nationwide, international lockdown!” Melanie, your childhood friend shouted frantically

“Okay, everyone calm down...” you sighed, “we knew this was a possibility, as much as we might want to say that we didn’t, we knew that we could get home and everything would be shut down”

“So what do we do?” Beth asked

“We...” you stammered, not having the answers but trying your best to stay calm, “we listen. We do what we’re told -- isolate, quarantine, get tested, all of it -- and then hopefully it’ll be over soon.” Your words were like a curse because as soon as you got back to St. Louis, the world seemed crazier than it ever was. Months went by and nothing changed. People were still getting sick, still dying, and there were still people who thought it was all a hoax. Birthdays were spent apart, friends stopped making an effort to keep in touch and it made everything feel... cold and sad. The only thing that seemed to make any sense was your friendship with Matthew.

“What’s up kid?” he texted one day after a particularly hard week and you just about broke down in front of your phone screen

“I lost my job...” you sent back

“Ah shit, I’m sorry”

“It’s fine but thank you”

“It’s not fine”

“I mean, no, but it’s not like it’s just me. Half of the world has lost their jobs”

“That doesn’t mean you have to be all fine about it”

“Matt, seriously, it’s fine”

“You say that now and then two days from now you’ll get pissed about someone else getting promoted”

“I wouldn’t do that”

“Not on purpose but stress can do things to a person...”

“I’ll be fine but thank you for caring so much”

“Anytime!” you smiled at his concern before changing the subject, checking in with his family, asking him about what was going to happen with the season, “I have no idea... everything is still shut down until further notice”

“I hope things get better by Christmas”

“At the rate things are going, I don’t think they will”

“Way to stay positive, Tkachuk” you scoffed to yourself

“It’s what I do 😜” the conversation didn’t last long after that and you went on a spiral of looking and applying for jobs; everything came crashing down when you’re grandpa got sick and you couldn’t visit him. You called the hospital every day, not wanting your grandpa to be alone, but they wouldn’t let you in, ‘protocols’ they said

“I don’t know what to do, Matt” you sobbed over the phone

“Relax,” he tried, “we’ll get you in there”

“They won’t let me in!” you argued, raising your voice in anger, “he’s dying and they won’t let me see him...”

“I can make sure you see him.”

Matthew’s P.O.V

You were trying your best to get (Y/N) into the hospital to see her grandpa but it was taking a lot more effort than you thought

“Please,” you begged the doctor, “he doesn’t have anyone else. She’s not getting any answers and she just wants to see him, even if it’s to say goodbye”

“I’m sorry. I can’t break the rules for your girlfriend” the doctor replied

“No--” you stammered, trying to backtrack, “she’s not my girlfriend. She’s my best friend and she wants to see her grandfather”

“I can’t break protocols for one person. We’re doing everything we can to keep him healthy and if we invite guests inside, it puts our patients at risk,” the doctor explained, “maybe we can set up a Zoom call”

“If he dies and she isn’t there, she will blame herself for the rest of her life”

“I’m sorry. I don’t have a choice...” you angrily hung up the phone, throwing it to the side while you thought up a plan before calling (Y/N).

“The doctor said no...” you said solemnly

“What?” she whimpered, “Matt, he can’t be alone there. In a hospital, he needs to be with people who love him”

“They said they have protocols,” you added, “but we can sneak in there...”

“Sneak into a hospital?” she scoffed, “Matthew, we’re not spies. We can’t sneak into a hospital during a pandemic”

“Just trust me”

“What happens if we get caught? If we get in trouble?”

“We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it”

“I can’t le--”

“Just trust me” you interrupted, convincing her that everything would be okay and ending the call. You made your way to the hospital where (Y/N)’s grandpa had been checked into and asked around about how someone could have visitors

“They’d have to be tested before they came and then retested, temperature checked, when they got here,” a nurse explained, “and then they’d have to sit behind a barrier with a mask on. It wouldn’t be any different than most other places -- we’re following the same guidelines and restrictions, we just have to be 10 times as careful because we have lives at stake”

“But if a family member did all that, the tests and followed the guidelines, they could come visit?” you asked, feeling like you might be getting close to a solution

“Hypothetically?” she started, “it’s possible but there would be a time limit. Maybe 10 minutes maximum and even that’s pushing it”

“I can work with that!” you smiled under your mask and rushed out of the hospital, texting (Y/N) about what needed to be done, the two of you rushing to a testing facility as fast as possible and waited impatiently for the results. When both of your results came back negative, you told her you’d make a call and get her in to see her grandpa; she hugged you tightly before a tear fell from her eye onto your exposed collarbone. “He’s gonna be okay” you whispered

“Thank you,” she replied, keeping her arms wrapped around your neck, “for doing all this for me”

“I know how much he means to you” you smiled at her when she finally let go of you, her eyes softening at your words. You and (Y/N) met when your dad was drafted to St. Louis and had been friends ever since, celebrating each others successes as the years went by. Her grandparents raised her after her mom died and her dad took off, she was only six years old; her grandma died two years later so it was (Y/N) and her grandpa against the world. They were inseparable and she would’ve done anything for him -- including letting you sweet talk a group of nurses to get her into a hospital during a global pandemic. You watched as she made her way down the hallway, the lack of visitors and laughter making everything suddenly feel real, she stopped in front of a large glass door clutching onto the coat that she held in her hands as she waited for someone to let her in. A doctor finally let her in but stayed close by, pulling her out after 10 minutes had passed, not a second more, “come on, man,” you begged, “let her have a little bit more time”

“I can’t” he replied before looking at (Y/N), “I really am sorry.” She nodded at the doctor before looking back toward her grandpa’s room and tucking herself into your side as you made your way out of the hospital. You started to drive her home but after miles of silence, she asked if you could take her to the park where the two of you used to sneak out to

“Yeah, sure” you agreed, keeping your voice soft and letting her rest her head against the window for the remainder of the ride. When you pulled up in front of the park and parked the car, you looked at (Y/N) noticing a stream of dried tears on her cheeks before she swung open the car door and ran to the swings. She did this every once in a while, tried to ignore her pain and focus on putting a smile on someone else’s face by pretending she was fine. You could always tell that she wasn’t fine but you couldn’t always bring her out of it, “(Y/N)...” you sighed

“Come on, Matty!” she called, pushing herself on the swing to see how high she could get, “let’s see if you can get higher than me!”

“(Y/N).. we don’t have to do this. We could just sit and talk if you wanted to...”

“Why? I wanted to come to the park to play, not to talk,” she challenged, “if I wanted to talk, I would’ve gone home or to your place...” you exhaled as you walked toward the free swing beside her, your eyes following her as they tried to catch a glimpse of her face; trying to gauge whether or not she was crying. She didn’t stay on the swing too much longer, instead choosing to jump onto the Merry Go-Round

“You’re gonna spin on this now?” you scoffed

“No,” she answered with a laugh, laying down on the cold metal, “you’re going to spin me and I’m gonna see how long it takes me to get dizzy.. Just like we used to do.” You obliged, letting the sound of her laughter fill the air while the old playground equipment squeaked below her. As you kept spinning her, you noticed that her once happy laughter had been replaced by whimpers and you fought to slow down the Merry Go-Round

“(Y/N)?” you asked as you rushed to her, “what’s wrong? what happened?”

“He’s all alone, Matt...” she cried, “you should’ve seen him, he was so weak and I just wanted to hug him and tell him everything was going to be okay but I don’t think he’s going to be okay...”

“Shhh,” you tried to calm her sobs, letting her head fall onto your shoulder, “I’m here”

“I don’t want him to be alone... I don’t want to be alone” she sobbed

“You’re not alone...” you whispered and she looked up at you, her eyes flooded with tears, “you’ll never be alone...” you could tell by the way she looked at you that she wanted you to kiss her but you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything, fearing that she was too vulnerable and you’d be taking advantage of her. So, you continued to hold her instead, for as long as she needed but when she lifted her head up from your shoulder to look at you once more, she made the first move, pressing her lips onto yours as dusk set in and the two of you were the only sound either of you could hear. Your lips moved in sync with hers as your hands laid firmly on her sides; rolling her onto her back slowly so she didn’t hit her head. Her hands roamed to the top of your zipper, pushing the slider down before you tore it off your body quickly, leaving her lips for just a second to throw the fabric behind you. As much as you wanted this to happen, you were still being careful and she could feel your hesitation

“What’s wrong?” she asked

“Nothing,” you lied, “I just want to make sure you’re okay with this. That you’re not just doing this because you’re upset...”

“I know what I’m doing, Matt” she smiled.

When Matt started to drive you home, you asked him to redirect you to the park the two of you used to go as kids; so you could feel a little less like the world was falling apart

“Yeah, sure” he said softly before your head fell against the window as you waited for him to pull up to the park. You had managed to keep your crying quiet enough that, when he saw you, Matt was surprised to see the stream of tears on your cheeks. You pressed your lips together before you rushed out of the car toward the old swing set, jumping on and trying to get as high off the ground as possible

“(Y/N)...” Matt sighed and the tone of his voice was all too familiar so you ignored it

“Come on, Matty!” you laughed when you called to him, “let’s see if you can get higher than me!”

“(Y/N).. we don’t have to do this. We could just sit and talk if you wanted to...” he tried but you shook your head. You just wanted to forget what you’d just seen, forget about what was happening, forget that you might have to be alone again and you really didn’t want to be alone again

“Why?” you urged, “I wanted to come to the park to play not to talk. If I wanted to talk I would’ve gone home or to your place...” he finally walked to the swing next to you and began pumping his legs to meet your height before you could feel him watching you, leading you to hop off the swing and head to the next piece of equipment from your childhood; the Merry Go-Round.

“You’re gonna spin on this now?” Matt scoffed as he followed you to the metal death trap that you climbed on

“No,” you replied, chuckling at his question before lying down, your exposed skin meeting the cold metal below you, “you’re going to spin me and I’m gonna see how long it takes me to get dizzy.. Just like we used to do.” He compressed his lips and did as you asked, spinning you quickly and you laughed as you got increasingly dizzy with every turn before your grandpa’s face popped into your head; tears overcoming you as whimpers left your lips. Matt quickly dug his feet into the ground to stop the Merry Go-Round

“(Y/N)? What’s wrong?” he rushed to you, pulling you close to him, “what happened?”

“He’s all alone, Matt,” you cried as you remembered your grandpa in the hospital. He was all you had and the idea of him not being with you terrified you, “you should’ve seen him, he was so weak and I just wanted to hug him and tell him everything was going to be okay but I don’t think he’s going to be okay...” you shook your head frantically at the thought

“Shhh..” he hushed you, letting your head fall on his shoulder, “I’m here”

“I don’t want him to be alone... I don’t want to be alone” you sobbed

“You’re not alone,” he whispered and you felt his body move closer to yours, just to close the space between you, your eyes continuing to brim with tears, “you’ll never be alone.” Whether it was your fear of being alone, of losing the only person who had ever loved you, or if you just wanted to be close to someone, anybody, you looked up at Matt with soft eyes, hoping he’d make a move. But he didn’t. He just held you and, as nice as it was, it wasn’t what you wanted. You lifted your head once more, this time moving your lips closer to his as the sky filled with the dark hues of dusk, his breath brushing across your skin before your lips connected with his. He pressed his hand against your waist as he kissed you slowly, your lips parting just enough for his tongue to inch into your mouth before he shifted his body to lay your back onto the Merry Go-Round, holding your head with his free hand so you didn’t hurt yourself. Your hands found their way to the zipper of his hoodie, sliding it down and pushing the fabric from his arms and he left the kiss just for a second to easily throw away his hoodie, leaning back over you while you waited for him to continue kissing you but he pulled away

“What’s wrong?” you asked, sitting up as he did and you leaned against his back

“Nothing...” he said but you could tell he was lying, “I just want to make sure you’re okay with this. That you’re not just doing this because you’re upset...”

“I know what I’m doing, Matt” you scoffed and he turned his head back to you

“I know you do,” he smiled, kissing your nose playfully, “I just want you to know that you don’t have to”

“I want to” you replied, placing your hand on the side of his face to bring him closer to you, pressing your lips against his and twisting his body back on top of yours. You melted into each other, your breathing in sync as you undid the button of his jeans, setting him free before his hands drifted to push your leggings down. His lips trailed to your neck as he pushed himself into you, eliciting a quiet moan from you and a growl from him when you dug your nails into his skin. You tried not to make too much noise, worrying that the park was still too close to the neighbouring houses, but every once in a while you whined out a curse word

“Fuck,” Matthew moaned out before you could, “oh god” he grunted against your neck as he continued to pump in and out of you, your back arching to gain more friction

“Shit,” you whimpered, “fuck.” His speed increased and you giggled when you heard the Merry Go-Round start to squeak

“Shh” he chuckled

“I’m sorry” you laughed back, trying to focus more on the pleasure than the noise and after a few minutes, Matt released inside you and rolled to the side. You curled up beside him, placing your hand on his chest before you fell asleep next to him. You woke up with the dawn, letting Matt sleep while you watched the Sky lighten

“Good morning” he cooed, kissing your shoulder as he sat up

“Good morning,” you smiled, turning to lay a kiss to his lips, “we should probably get out of here before someone rats us out” he laughed but nodded in response, grabbing his hoodie from the ground and wrapping it around you. You watched him drive smoothly through the streets and you smiled to yourself

“What?” he smirked

“Nothing,” you replied, “I just... like you a whole lot”

“That so?” He chuckled to himself

“Yeah”

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing I like you a whole lot, too.” He reached out his hand to interlock his fingers with yours and a flush of heat ran through your body. He had managed to make you forget about everything for a while and you were grateful to him for that but you were still scared that you’d end up alone in the long run. “Hey,” he said, seemingly catching your eyes fall to your lap, “I meant what I said last night”

“What?” You replied, furrowing your brow

“You’ll never be alone. I’ll always be here for you”

“Thank you,” you smiled, dropping your head on the headrest, “for everything.”

“Any time” he smirked, bringing your hand up so he could kiss it while the two of you drove silently back to his house.

#Matthew Tkachuk #Matthew Tkachuk fic #Matthew Tkachuk imagine #Matthew Tkachuk request #Matthew Tkachuk prompt #Song Prompt #Music Prompt #dusk till dawn #dusk till dawn prompt #ZAYN and sia #request #fic request #imagine request #prompt request #song prompt request #masterlist #the other masterlist #hockey #nhl

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twdmusicboxmystery · 3 years

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11x02: Acheron, Part 2 - Analysis

Okay, let’s talk 11x02. And 11x01. Because it’s a two-part episode, it’s important to consider them together. I have a LOT to say about what’s going on in these two episodes, so I’ll have plenty to post all week. Let’s dive in!

***As always, spoilers abound below for TWD 11x02. Don’t read until you’ve watched! You’ve been warned!***

Maggie

The first thing we see is a point of view from under the train car. The instant I saw that, I knew how things would go. I never thought Maggie would die (if nothing else, there are scenes with her in the trailer we haven’t seen yet) but I was curious as to how she would survive. When I saw this POV, I knew she’d end up crawling under the train. Just as Glenn crawled under the dumpster. Massive parallels to Glenn. Which by extension, massive parallels to Beth. Major resurrection theme.

It's also important that when she reappears, she comes from underneath the car. Obviously, that’s logical given that she crawled underneath the car, but they make a point of asking if the pounding is coming from the roof. Gabriel says no and then they open the bottom hatch for her. Her coming up from the ground like that is a visual representation of a resurrection.

So we see Gabriel, Negan and the others enter the train car. The spatial details here are important, and I had to watch the episode twice to get them all straight. It’s a little confusing the first time. So, the group jumps down into the train car through a hatch in the roof because they couldn’t get the door open in the last episode. The thing is, if you watch closely, you come to realize they’re not in the train car on the end. They must have walked along the roof for two or three cars before finding a hatch that let them in.

So, when Gauge shows up, he comes behind them, and that confused me because I was thinking they came from that direction. And they did, but they entered through the roof, not the door. Anyway, they can’t get the door open. So honestly, even if they’d tried harder, I’m not sure they could have saved him.

This scene accomplished a lot of things, character-wise, that we need to touch on. It’s important to note that Gauge’s death happened due to his own choices. Does that mean he “deserved” to die or that they shouldn’t have tried to save him if they could have? Of course not. No on both counts. But that doesn’t change the fact that his choices sealed his fate.

It's especially interesting that he called Maggie a Liar. Not only is that a throwback to the Governor, but it’s a particular type of mentality they’re showing here. Even the fact that he didn’t shut the door behind him is really interesting. My first thought was to be annoyed with him. Why WOULDN’T you shut the door. You live in this world. You know better. But it’s all ego. He can’t imagine something bad will happen. He just assumes if it does, someone will save him.

But the most telling thing was how angry he got before saying Liar. It just shows very much how he approaches life. When he messes up, he doesn’t feel bad, and accept that it was his fault, and try to learn from it. No, instead he gets pissed and blames everyone but himself and his own actions.

If this had been Daryl or Gabriel or Alden or any of our other heroes, they would have recognized that opening the door would have gotten their friends and family killed and would have sacrificed themselves. Especially if they realized they’d screwed up. But Gauge became angry and defiant, even killing himself.

Anyway, I’m rambling. This really has nothing to do with Beth or TD other than perhaps being a future template for something. But I thought it was a really fascinating character sketch.

The thing is, this isn’t really a matter of Gauge being wrong and everyone else being right.

Maggie is…not doing so well either. As I told my fellow theorists, Paola Lazaro said in TTD last week that Maggie was kind of off the rails. I think she said that a little prematurely, because we really didn’t understand Maggie’s state of mind just by watching 10x17 and 11x01.

It's not until she tells that messed up story about the house she found and the people in it that we understand that her state of mind really isn’t at its healthiest. Even saying she wanted to kill Negan before is…understandable given their past. But it makes more sense now why Negan is so nervous. He’s sensing her state of mind that her moral conscience isn’t as strong as it once was, so of course he’s fearful for his life.

I don’t know where they’re going with this Maggie story line, but I have a feeling this attitude of hers will cause conflict down the road. Several of my fellow theorists believe it will cause a rift between her and Daryl. And we can see that somewhat through Alden. At first, he was very much defending Maggie, especially against Negan. He has a lot of loyalty to her. But he didn’t like her abandoning Gauge, and you can see his loyalties starting to waver.

At the very least, what she said about not feeling anything about it is the opposite of what Beth always stood for. Daryl was trying hard not to feel things during Still, in the wake of the prison going down. She made him feel things because that’s the only way a person is truly living, rather than just surviving. Now Maggie is in that state of mind.

And I’m gonna argue that makes it a prime time for Beth to return to help her. But of course I’m completely objective over here. ;D

Maggie’s Story:

Maggie’s story was definitely dark and horrible, but interesting to analyze. I’m assuming there was cannibalism going on there. That’s why the missing limbs. The men in the house were eating the female prisoners. No only a callback to Terminus, but remember that Bob’s leg was taken for food, so I’m sure that’s what we’re supposed to infer here.

She talked about no eyes, no tongue, no limbs, vocal cords ripped out. So definitely the see no evil, speak no evil themes. With the limbs, it’s also a matter of not being able to escape or save themselves.

In terms of the plot, I do have one question about this that I think may be significant. Maggie first talks about three deformed people (she says, “I wouldn’t call them men”) coming toward her. She kills them, and only after that hears the noise from the attic.

My question is, why were they deformed? If they’re “men,” then they must be at least Maggie’s age, if not older, which means they’ve been around since before the apocalypse began. Even eating human flesh doesn’t cause one to become deformed, so why the deformities? I have no idea, but I wondered if there is a radiation theme going on here. Something they’re hinting at, but not saying. Just thought that was intriguing.

After that, things go sideways and everyone almost dies until Daryl arrives to save the day. So, let’s skip to his story.

Daryl:

We first see him bust through a wall with Dog. So, dog took off in the last episode, but the first time we see Daryl, he’s already found Dog again. At least, the first time. This is where he sees the murals on the wall, the walker with the handcuff and the suitcase of money, etc. I already talked about most of that in great detail HERE, so I won’t rehash it, though it’s very important.

One thing I will say about the mural is that thematically, it’s a match to Still. So, in the golf club, we had lots of rich people who clearly hid there when the world first went bad. And I don’t remember this particularly, but several of my fellow theorists have told me they remember the TTD after Still and that the writers talked about how the golf club was a statement about the class system. You have these very rich people, but their wealth couldn’t save them. Death, walkers, the apocalypse…none of these things discriminate based on wealth or position.

On the wall, we see people with crowns standing at the top, but below, they are homeless, and one of them is being attacked and torn apart. Meanwhile, Daryl sees a line of text that says, “it comes for us all,” probably meaning death.

Well, guess what? Angela Kang, in talking about the murals, said that this, too, was a statement about the class system. So thematically, this is meant to be a parallel to Still.

It’s just interesting to contemplate because if you think about it, most of our heros—Rick, Daryl, the Greene family, etc—weren’t at all wealthy. Rick was humble and well-grounded. Hershel worked hard his whole life and never had any glory or fanfare. And then there’s Daryl, who was “nothing. No one.” They all survived.

So of course it’s a socioeconomic statement, but it’s also one about mindset. It takes not only grit to survive this world, but a certain amount of humility. Ego always gets you killed eventually, as it did with Gauge.

I’ll also mention that I thought the guy with the crown who was being torn apart was being set upon by walkers, but AK says they’re specifically not walkers. They’re people.

So, it’s not a coincidence that we see this juxtaposed with the Gauge situation. His ego gets him killed and we literally see him being torn apart because of it.

Moving on.

Daryl finds a bag with a $100 bill with a letter written on it. This is a massive TD clue from start to finish. 100 is an important number. The hundred dollar bill features Benjamin Franklin on the front and Independence Hall on the back. Look either of those up and you’ll find lots of fun parallels we could point to. I won’t go into all that today except to say it’s definitely part of the Revolution theme.

This is what’s written on the bill Daryl finds:

“Dear Dad, you always said if you don’t come back in a week to move on. Mom didn’t listen and went looking. It’s been three weeks, so we’re going next. I’ll watch Jesse and turn on the radio every day at 10. See you both soon. Love Tom and Jesse.”

He also finds a picture of two kids. So, the “three weeks” jumps out because of Rick’s line in 5x10, “it’s been three weeks since Atlanta.” It’s also about missing family members, going searching for them, etc. Possibly important that the mom is also missing. I can’t help but think of the song from Still. “Our mother has been absent, every since we founded Rome…”

There is a 10 in there, which is an important number. The turning the radio on every day is both the radio/airwaves theme (also a line from the song) but a callback to Rick and Morgan and their walkie talkies. So, really interesting symbols here.

The two kids immediately reminded me of Noah’s twin brothers. I don’t think these two are supposed to be twins. I’m assuming the brother is older. But still obviously siblings. And it hearkens back to the last episode Beth was technically in. Which also had a lot of the CRM/Revolution theme in it. (X, X).

AK says this family probably didn’t make it, so I’m not expecting these kids to show up in the narrative. But it’s also important to note that the little girl is carrying the toy rabbit Maggie found earlier. So the rabbit also ties into all this symbolism. (P.S. I didn’t get to my rabbit post last week. I planned on it, but time got away from me. I should get it posted later this week.)

So, this is massive in terms of TD symbolism. I’ll talk about it fits into the bigger narrative in a minute.

Then Daryl kills the sleeping bag walker. I wasn’t sure the significance of this at first, but I think it ties to the tents and sleeping bags we saw in Atlanta in 5x06, Consumed. Daryl and Carol passed them while looking for Beth. So, this just shows us that this is tied to her storyline and Daryl searching for her.

You could also argue that the walker was “hidden” at first, and it’s significant that Dog found it/realized it was there before Daryl did.

The other thing is that as he’s looking at the sleeping bag walker, there’s a random shoe on the ground next to it. Missing Shoe/Foot theory, which is also indicative of Beth.

They hear another roaring sound and Dog takes off, running into the dark tunnel.

Here’s the thing. I think most people will assume the roar he heard was just more air being forced through the tunnels by the storm, as Alden explained it in ep 1. But I always watch with the subtitles on and I noticed at this part, the subtitles said, “Man Roaring.” So they actually did hear someone screaming. And that’s probably why Dog ran toward it.

After watching it again, I realized it’s probably supposed to be Roy. He’s the white-haired guy, played by C. Thomas Howell, who Daryl finds wounded after he emerges from the Tunnel. I think whatever happened to him when he went topside but then got attacked by walkers is what Dog heard and went running toward.

Maybe not terribly significant in the plot, but it’s important symbolically. Because once again we have something Daryl hears from a distance but doesn’t see. Dog (a proxy for Beth) runs toward it, and Daryl follows. When he does, he find someone who had previously separated from the group. They’re hurt, but alive. See the parallels?

I will say the Roy situation confuses me just a little. He’s clearly hurt, and when Daryl tries to bandage him, he refuses, saying, “just tell my kids I didn’t die a coward.” But then later he’s with the group, all bandaged up, and seems to be okay. (He dies when they reach the Reapers by taking an arrow to the head, so he still dies overall.) But it’s just weird that it seemed he would die, then seemed he was fine again.

It may well be something that foreshadows a future situation, and that’s why it’s not making tons of sense right now. Only time will tell.

Anyway, I kind of glossed over Daryl crawling through the dark tunnel. I don’t have much else to say about it except that it’s a SUPER potent symbol for Beth’s arc and very important that he emerges on the other side and finds this person. Annnd then goes to save TF. (Dark Tunnel Symbolism).

So, he hears the gunshots and finds the train they’re on. He comes up behind the walkers attacking them from the front, kills them, moves the bench blocking the door, and lets everyone through. Then he uses a grenade to blow up all the walkers. (Ew.)

After that they all get out of the tunnels and go topside. The next scene is also super important. We see the stars above. That’s partly to show that the storm has passed now, but also constellations = Sirius.

Maggie asks what he has and he tells her about it. There is one weird moment in this scene. When she tells them about the supply depot she wants to stop at, she says Georgie (from S8) set it up for emergencies, for people on the outside to use. When it says this, the camera focuses on Daryl for a LONG moment, and he looks almost sad. I’m not sure what they’re trying to tell us there.

Anyway, they all head out. Unfortunately, when they reach the right neighborhood, the Reapers are there to meet/kill them. And Roy is the first to go.

So, a couple of things here. I’ll probably do a details post because I’m leaving out MOST of the background details throughout the episode, and there are a lot of them. Lots of details to be gleaned in this scene.

But the second time I watched it, I was struck by the people hanging upside down. Obviously a grim sight, but it occurred to me that these people hanging this way look a LOT like the deer diagrams from Scars. Let me show you some pictures:

Top pick is 11x02. Middle and bottom one are from Scars.

See what I mean? So, chances are something about Scars foreshadowed the Reapers, which is interesting. They clearly see human beings in a certain way (as animals to be strung up and…perhaps eaten?) And that makes me think that what Maggie found in that house may tie into the Reapers as well. Just kind of interesting foreshadows of coming plots.

Eugene:

Let’s talk Eugene and then I’ll shut up for today. Eugene’s stuff was very intriguing. First thing you need to know. And understand, I didn’t know this. @wdway pointed it out. Some months ago, the actress cast as “Stephanie” was announced. This is her:

And that’s clearly not the woman who steps into the train car at the end. Which means this isn’t really Stephanie. She’s a decoy. In fact, the actress from this episode is billed on IMDb as “woman 2,” not as “Stephanie.”

Knowing that, if you go back and re-watch the parts with Eugene’s group, they mean something very different.

On the surface, it seems that Zeke, Yumiko and Princess are taken away in a sinister fashion. Then Eugene melts down and tells his story. (Note: while he focuses on his feelings for Stephanie and I think most of that is true, he still says he lied both to her and to his friends about being from a large settlement. So, he’s still keeping large chunks of the truth from them.)

Again, on the surface it seems that they accept his explanation and just decide to allow them all in. All the stuff with the other three is just a misunderstanding.

But if “Stephanie” is a decoy, that can’t possibly be the case. I think Zeke and the others told Eugene the truth as they know it, but they’re all still being manipulated.

After Princess left to pee, the guy told Eugene no one was in the room and acted like he had no idea who Princess was. They were definitely using psychological torture on him, trying to break him.

I think they know very well that Eugene's group is still lying about their settlement, and they're using a decoy "Stephanie" to find out the truth.

My point is that it goes back to the hallucination, making-someone-think-they're-crazy theme. It will be really interesting to see how this unfolds, because there's all kinds of psychological shenanigans going on here.

@galadrieljones made a really interesting connection some time ago. She noticed that back in 10x18, at Leah’s cabin, there is a metal, heart-shaped chair. The same chairs show up in the Commonwealth’s sales video from the trailer. So there’s some kind of link between Leah, Daryl’s memory of her, and the Commonwealth. We don’t know what it is yet, but all of this gives credence to the idea that she is either an outright hallucination, or Daryl is just remembering things wrong.

It also might mean that the Reapers are connected to the Commonwealth in some way. We don’t really know yet, but I’m having tons of fun trying to figure it out.

I want to touch briefly on the train car theme. Once again, there’s a parallel in both story lines (Terminus, and this one at the Commonwealth). Daryl’s group is in train cars this episode. And while Eugene’s group has been at a different compound, they started in the train yard and end in it here. But what I noticed is that Eugene enters the train car at the end, which is furnished inside, and finds his friends there. They all have a happy reunion.

It made me think of the fact that when Rick, Daryl, Michonne, and Carl enter the train cars at Terminus, there is also a family reunion. What happened beyond that was not good or easy. Clearly, Terminus was not a good place. Many of them almost died at the trough and they had to fight their way out through a walker blood bath.

I’m just saying that, while it obviously won’t play out exactly the same way, something similar is probably waiting for Eugene’s group outside that train car. Not good.

Acheron Overall:

Okay, let’s get to the big cheese, here. The overall narrative. The template.

These two episodes are called Acheron part 1 and part 2. So here’s the skinny:

Acheron = Underworld. Daryl’s group going into the subway tunnels (dark, underground) is what constitutes Acheron and why the episodes are called that. That’s why, at the end of this episode, they emerge from the tunnels onto the surface (i.e. the living world).

Given all the death, cemetery, and dark tunnel symbolism around Beth, given that she ventured into the land of the dead by being shot, maybe clinically dying for a time, and being thought dead for so long, what this tells me is that everything that happens in these tunnels is a foreshadow and template for what will happen this season.

I maintain that Dog = Beth and we will soon see something where Daryl hears something (not necessarily her; it was a man screaming so I still think it will be Rick he hears word of) and goes chasing after it. While searching for it, he stumbles across Beth. Then the two of them (both Dog and Daryl returned to the train car) go back in time to save TF from something.

This is most likely why the Roy thing is weird. In a super understated way, he represents Rick in the template. Daryl will find him, but only after he finds Beth. Even consider what Roy says. He says, “tell my kids I didn’t die a coward.” And that’s all well and good, but did we even know Roy had kids? No. Have we met them? No. But who has kids that Daryl IS concerned with? That would be Rick.

So I’m thinking that maybe when Daryl finds Rick, Rick will think he’s dying for some reason, and that’s why the dialogue here. But he won’t, which is why we see Roy with the group later.

And no, I’m not thinking that Roy dying via the Reapers will extend to Rick. It’s more like what they’ve done with countless characters that have been Beth proxies. Eventually, they kill them off. He’s a minor character they were using as a proxy, and when they are done with him in the narrative, he becomes walker chow. Or, in this case, Reaper fodder.

Anyway, I think everything will end up being a foreshadow for something. Maggie and Negan. The Gauge situation. All of it. I’ll try to keep coming back to this as the story progresses to show what everything foreshadows. I’ll stop there for today.

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

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walkerwords · 4 years

Text

“Beth” Daryl Dixon x Beth Greene w/ Unrequited!F!Reader

Request: anonymous: can i please please request a heather by conan gray song fic where reader is jealous of what daryl and beth had ( basically daryl x reader but onesided 💔👄💔 ) omg pure damn angst that'd be immaculate 😭😭 thank u very much 💔💔

Word Count: 3540

Warning: Unrequited Love

Song I Wrote To: “Heather” by Conan Gray

Note: I hate to say that I know exactly how our reader felt and man does it fucking suck to feel that way. thank you for the request. NOTE: I see Beth and daryl as platonic soulmates, not romantic.

----------

I still remember third of December

Me in your sweater, you said it looked better

On me, than it did you, only if you knew

How much I liked you, but I watch your eyes

It hadn’t rained in days and you were almost out of water.

Since saving Beth from the Grady ordeal and discovering Noah’s home was gone, it was a mix of emotions within the group. After Terminus, there hadn’t been much hope on the horizon. Rescuing Beth had brought some light into your family’s eyes, but there was still the question of what happened next.

The prison was gone and you had lost people, but you had found each other again and that was better than nothing. Walking alongside Glenn and Maggie, your eyes were on the duo in front of you.

Daryl and Beth.

You didn’t know what had exactly happened between the two of them after the prison fell, but whatever it was had changed them. Two very unlikely people were now attached at the hip every moment of every day. Daryl never had Beth out of his sight if he could help it. The only time he did was when Beth was with her sister.

Daryl Dixon was the one that always made sense to you. You had met him the day he had walked into the camp with Merle. He tended to keep his distance from everyone else, but eventually, you had gotten him to talk to you and it didn’t take long for your feelings to form.

There had been small moments between the two of you that you thought had meant something. The slightest of glances, his hand on your arm when he needed your attention, or even when he had found you alone in the CDC and checked in.

It wasn’t until you were safe on the farm and Andrea had nearly killed him that you realized the feelings you had were more than a simple crush, you were falling for him and you were falling hard.

As she walks by

What a sight for sore eyes

Brighter than the blue sky

At the prison, you became his partner for all the supply runs. You were quick on your feet and didn’t care too much for small talk so he preferred to hunt with you. You hadn’t noticed that he and Beth were getting closer at all. The prison had offered Beth a boyfriend, though he didn’t last long and died on a supply run with Daryl.

When the prison had fallen, you had been with Maggie, Sasha, and Bob. The four of your had traveled down rickety roads searching for Glenn and the others. When you had encountered Terminus, you weren’t sure if you were going to get out of there alive. There had been too many variables and you were still missing people.

She's got you mesmerized

While I die

That is until Rick, Daryl, Michonne, and Carl had entered the train car and you had immediately grabbed Daryl into a hug. His arms had been hesitant at first but then hugged you back, burying his head in your hair. When he had pulled back and spotted Maggie, his face had fallen and he had told her what happened.

Beth had been taken.

The reunion was short-lived as Gareth and his people dragged Rick, Daryl, Bob, and Glenn from the train car. Both you and Maggie had yelled as the men you loved were torn from your grips. Sasha had to hold you back, keeping her arms locked around your torso as you fought against her.

Everything after that was a blur and then the next thing you knew, there was an explosion and you and the rest of your family began to fight back. It wasn’t until Abraham had taken your hand and dragged you into the woods that you were finally reunited with Daryl and the others.

Still reeling from almost being dinner for cannibals, everyone tried to remain calm, but there was still one more thing you and the others had to do: Get Beth back.

Why would you ever kiss me?

I'm not even half as pretty

You gave her your sweater

It's just polyester

But you like her better

Wish I were Heather

Daryl wouldn’t stop talking about her. He couldn’t believe he had lost her at the funeral home. He thought he was protecting her when he told her to run, but then she had been taken anyways. Daryl told Maggie that he had screamed for her sister, running after the car that snatched her, but they never slowed and they never stopped.

“Beth is strong and she’ll survive anything these assholes throw at her,” you had told him, trying to offer comfort after you had found the church. Daryl had been sitting alone on watch when you had found him. You could tell he was becoming restless and that it was only a matter of time before he went after her. What he said next had confirmed your theory.

“She is strong,” Daryl had agreed, “but she can’t do this alone. Someone’s gotta go get her.” After that, you knew there was no stopping him.

It wasn’t long after that when Daryl had left to go after the people who had taken the young Greene. You had informed the others of what had happened and Rick had ordered everyone to stay put. Daryl, and Carol, who had joined him, were more than capable of getting Beth and Rick knew that if they needed you, you would be there to help.

The entire exchange at Grady felt as if it didn’t even happen. One moment Daryl had come back saying that Carol had been taken as well, and then suddenly you were all on your way into the city to go after your people. Rick had you and Sasha act as snipers on the overpasses to get good vantage points for the initial meeting.

From watching him through your scope, you could see how restless Daryl was getting. If Rick hadn’t of been by his side, you were almost sure that he would have gone into the hospital alone to get her back and probably would have killed them both in the process.

You soon realized that Dawn Lerner was no different from the other threats you and the others had faced. She was proud and naïve at the same time. The woman believed that she was helping people, saving them for when help arrived. However, everyone knew the truth, nobody was coming. Nobody was ever coming.

Watch as she stands with her holding your hand

Put your arm 'round her shoulder, now I'm getting colder

You had joined Rick and Daryl in the exchange, keeping your weapon ready in your hands. Carol was brought forward first and then Beth. As soon as she rejoined the group, Rick had pulled her behind him and Daryl stood in front of both of them, creating a shield. Beth stayed close and placed her hand on his back lightly, making sure he knew she was there.

When Dawn had asked for Noah, Beth had walked forward with determination, trying to make the woman see reason, but the former officer wasn’t backing down. Nobody saw the pair of scissors in Beth’s hand until it was too late.

The younger Greene plunged her weapon into Dawn’s chest just as the latter pulled her gun. You flinched, waiting for the gunshot, but the pistol had jammed. Beth stared at the barrel pointed at her head in shock. Just before Dawn could try to explain, Noah pulled Beth back and Daryl pulled his own gun, shooting Dawn in the head without a second thought.

Everyone, including yourself, had then raised their weapons, but the other members of Grady had surrendered, not wanting any more people to die. Rick had then ordered everyone out and back down to the others. You helped Carol stand and she leaned on you as you walked from the hospital.

But how could I hate her? She's such an angel

But then again, kinda wish she were dead

Ahead of you, Daryl had Beth pressed into his side, his arm firmly around her. Beth’s arms clutched at the vest on his back as if she were afraid he would slip away from her again. You were glad that she was okay, but you couldn’t ignore the pang in your heart as you watched the man you loved hold another. The heartbreak only continued after that as your group headed back out onto the road.

------

Coming back to the present, you hadn’t realized that a Walker had begun stumbling after you or that Maggie and Glenn had stepped away to talk amongst themselves. The rest of the group was a few paces ahead of you, unaware of the lurking Dead behind them. Turning slowly, you pulled your knife, trying to stay on your feet. You were exhausted and at this point all you wanted to do was lay down and sleep, but that was no longer a luxury in the new world.

The Walker gnashed its teeth at you as you waited for it to catch up. When it was on you, you lazily shoved its arms off of you. The smell of rot made your eyes water as it tried to bite you. Its crumbling fingers tangled in your jacket as you raised your arm and plunged the blade into its eye socket. The creatures dropped to the ground with a heavy thud that finally got the attention of your group.

“(Y/N)?” Carl called. You waved off the concern in his voice and sheathed your blade, turning away from the corpse. You caught up with the others, trying to keep both of your eyes open. As you walked alongside Tara, you felt a hand on your arm. Looking to your left, you saw Beth looking at you with a furrowed brow.

As she walks by

What a sight for sore eyes

Brighter than a blue sky

She's got you mesmerized

While I die

“You okay?” she asked. Daryl was right next to her, his hand in hers as always.

“Yeah, Beth,” you assured her. “I’m just tired.” She nodded in understanding. Everyone was tired, everyone was hungry, and nobody knew what was going to happen next. Beth looked like she wanted to say something else, but you just gave her a small smile and went to catch up with Rick who was walking with his children, Judith tucked under his chin, and Carl dragging his feet next to his dad. “Need a break?” you asked, gesturing to the little one.

“I got her,” Rick said, “but thanks.” You nodded and continued to walk alongside your leader in silence. Rick was watching you out of the corner of his eye, easily reading your body language. Whether you were aware or not, he could see what Daryl couldn’t and that was the fact that every second you watched him with Beth felt like a dagger to your heart.

“We should find a spot to stop for the night,” you suggested, your eyes scanning the road ahead.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Rick said with a sigh and then glanced over his shoulder. “Daryl,” he called and the archer let go of Beth for a moment to jog up to Rick’s side. “Why don’t you and (Y/N) go scout ahead in the woods, see if you can find a place to set up camp for the night.” Daryl was hesitant at first, but then nodded.

“Alright,” he said and then looked back at Beth, “I’ll be right back,” he called and she nodded with a small smile. He then turned back to you, gripping his bow tighter, “come on.”

------

You followed after Daryl in silence. Since knowing the hunter, you learned how to move with him through the woods. On the farm, Daryl had taken you under his wing and taught you how to walk without making a sound and how to spot things that were out of the ordinary. You were the only person he trusted to go sneaking through the woods with and that meant a lot to you.

The two of you walked for a little while longer before he slowed down and began walking beside you, instead of in front. “You’ve been quiet girl,” he observed. You just shrugged, not really wanting to get into it right now. “(Y/N),” Daryl said, knocking your shoulder with his.

“I’m just sick of wandering,” you explained. “At least the last few times we have been on the road, we had a vague idea of where we were going or at least trying to go.”

“I know ya didn’t like being back in the city,” he said quietly. You shrugged again.

“Not like I was going to stay behind,” you told him. “Beth and Carol needed us.” Daryl nodded.

“Thanks for helpin’ to get them back,” he said, looking over at you, and you nearly melted under his gaze.

“What else is family for, right?” Daryl gave you a small smile and then nodded.

You continued on through the woods until you found a small enough clearing that would work well for the night. You volunteered to stay behind and start getting the camp ready while Daryl ran back to bring the others. You needed to be alone with your thoughts.

As soon as Daryl disappeared back through the trees, you began gathering firewood. The whole time, you watched for Walkers, but the Dead stayed away for the moment. You tried to focus on your task, but every time you had a second, you thought of him. Your hands went into your hair and tugged as if you could pull the thoughts out by force.

You didn’t want to feel like this.

You had experienced unrequited love before, but never to this extent. Daryl Dixon had consumed you and no amount of “moving on” was going to fix it.

Why would you ever kiss me?

I'm not even half as pretty…

The others arrived quickly and you all worked together to get the camp set up for the night. Rick, Abraham, and Michonne set up Walker traps while Carol and Glenn fixed something for dinner from what Daryl was able to catch in the nearby trees.

Once everyone had eaten, you had stepped away and placed yourself on a boulder, watching over the group, a rifle in your lap. Your eyes couldn’t stop wandering to Beth and Daryl as they sank into their own bubble.

She was never far from his side by the fire. Since Grady, she had slept by his side, walked in his shadow, and they even took watch together when they had the chance. You also knew that while Beth and Daryl may have been oblivious of their newfound relationship, everyone else in the group had noticed.

Daryl joked around with Beth, carried her on his back when she was tired, and he had even begun training her with his bow, something you had always wanted to do. Jealously rushed through you at the sight of his hands on her shoulders and under her arm, helping her balance the weapon.

Any time she would make a perfect shot at a nearby tree, he would smile at her with pride in his eyes. Those eyes never left her if they could help it and you didn’t blame him because you were the same way when it came to him. He cared about her and while it may have been a different way than how you felt about him, it didn’t feel much better.

You gave her your sweater

It's just polyester

Watching as Daryl wrapped his leather jacket around Beth’s shoulder, you gripped the barrel of your gun tighter. A movement to your left had you turning to see Maggie approaching you. She hopped up on the boulder and gave you a small smile.

“Are you okay?” she asked and you knew what she was referring too. Maggie Greene or rather, Rhee, was as observant as they came.

“I’m good,” you told her, turning your attention to the wall of trees that was before you.

“I know how you feel about him,” Maggie whispered and you closed your eyes at her words. She reached over and took your hand. “I saw it the first night on the farm, the way you look at him. I even thought that the two of you were together before Andrea mentioned that you weren’t.” You sighed.

“Maggie…” you began as you looked at her, your eyes begging for her to drop the subject.

“I could talk to Beth,” she offered, but you were already shaking your head.

“No, no, please,” you said, glancing over at the two survivors cuddled up by the fire. “He and her...that’s fate. You know Daryl, he’s not the romantic type, but Beth is the closest thing to a soulmate he’s got. Platonic and all. Besides, look at her. She’s an Angel.”

But you like her better

I wish I were Heather

------

Later that night, Glenn had joined you on watch.

You knew that you should get some sleep, but too many thoughts ran through your mind and you couldn’t quiet them down enough to sleep. Glenn didn’t say anything, but he knew. You knew that Maggie had told him, but you also knew that he wouldn’t offer his opinion, at least not when anyone could hear him. Still, he slung an arm around your shoulder and you leaned into him, feeling the warm embrace of your friend.

Eventually, you had to get up. After Glenn had gone to sleep next to his wife, Rosita tagged you out for watch and you slid off the boulder, stretching your arms above your head. As you walked back to the rest of the group, you ran into Daryl.

“Ya alright?” he asked, concern furrowing his brow.

“How many more times are you gonna ask me that?” you asked, crossing your arms. “I’m the same since the last time you asked.”

“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “Something has been off with you since Grady, maybe even before that.” All you wanted to do was scream at him. You wanted to grab him by that damn vest of his, tell him you loved him, and kiss him until the sun came up and that fantasy alone was enough to make you turn away from him.

“I’m tired of losing people, Daryl,” you admitted and you didn’t think he caught your double meaning, but it was the truth. You had lost him even though he was never yours, to begin with.

“I get that,” he said, “but you never know who you’ll find, ya know?” he said glancing over at Beth who lay curled up near her sister and brother-in-law. You followed his gaze and then your eyes landed on Rick who was looking at you with sadness in his eyes. You looked away quickly, trying not to let the tears back in. “What is it?” Daryl asked, noting your shift in demeanor.

“Nothin’, I’m gonna do a perimeter check,” you informed him.

“Alone?”

“Yeah, alone,” you said before turning and walking away, fighting the tears with every step.

Wish I were Heather

(Oh, oh)

Wish I were Heather

--------

It didn’t take long for you to crumble.

Falling to your knees, you rested on the forest floor, your back against a tree as you cried. You knew you needed to be quiet, but you couldn’t stop the tears that choked you. He would never look at you the way he looked at her and you had to accept that, but it didn’t mean that it still didn’t hurt like hell. You pressed your face into your arms as you cried, trying to muffle the sound.

Why would you ever kiss me?

I'm not even half as pretty

You gave her your sweater

It's just polyester

When your sobs had calmed, you stared out into the darkness with bleary and red eyes. A flashlight beam caught your eye as Rick approached you, his boots crunching the dead leaves that scattered the ground. He didn’t say anything as he joined you on the ground.

“I didn’t mean to walk off,” you explained, but he waved you off. It was another moment of silence before he finally spoke.

“I know that look,” Rick said. “The others, they may not see it, but I do. I know what it looks like to want someone you can’t have,” he said. You kept your gaze forward as he spoke. “Shane had the same look when it came to Lori. Hell, he loved her and I knew it and so did she. So, I know (Y/N).”

Nodding, you wiped at the tears on your chin and took a deep breath. “I want to hate her,” you whispered.

“But you can’t,” he said and you shook your head.

“I could never,” you admitted. “Not her. She’s not even doing anything.” The tears came again and this time Rick pulled you against him and you sobbed into his chest.

“It’s okay,” he soothed, rubbing his hand down your back. “It’s okay.”

A part of you believed him. It was going to be okay. The end of the world had happened, but it didn’t mean that you had lost everything. Daryl had found his person and while you would always love him, there was a point in time when you just had to let go.

And so, you did.

But you like her better

Wish I were...

TAGS: @thanossexual @yes-sir-hotchner@felicisimor @amaroho

#daryl dixon x beth greene #daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #beth lives #reader insert #unrequited romance #twd imagine #Heather #song fic #twd #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead imagine #walkerwords

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fuckallthegood0nesweretaken · 3 years

Text

New World CH. Eight

Title: Potential Home

Words: 1891

Warnings: Strong sexual content (P in V sex, spicy kissing, groping), strong language

A/N: If you’d like to request something, send me an ask. I’d love to write for you!

If you’d like to support me, buy me a Ko-Fi?

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

New World Masterlist

Daryl Dixon Masterlist

The Walking Dead Masterlist

Masterlist

~~~~~~~

The winter months had passed without any major incidents. No one died, but food was scarce and you were never able to stay in one place for more than a week. It got better as the months got warmer, but it was still rough.

A few weeks had gone by before you and your brothers told the Greene family about the supernatural. It took a lot to convince them, but after a run in with a group of vampires, they believed you.

You and Daryl had also gotten closer, and surprisingly, your slightly overprotective brothers didn’t have a huge problem with it. The two of you were good for each other, and they saw that. Daryl made you happy and that was something not a lot of people got these days.

You had been on the road for a few days since the last house you stayed in was overrun. Lori looked like she was about to pop and you needed to find a place to stay. Going house to house or staying out the open wasn’t becoming an option anymore. So when you came across a prison while hunting with Daryl and Rick, you thought that this could be it.

---

“We found a place,” Rick said when you got back to the group. “It’s a prison.”

“A prison?” Carl asked.

“Yeah. The fences held up and it looks good,” you said. “I think we should go for it. We also got some meat.”

“We’d have to clear it out, but this could be it.”

Everyone agreed, and piled into the cars. You sat with your brothers and daughter, as usual, and off you went. When you got there, Rick cut the fence while you helped fend off walkers as Sam held Adeline close. Once everyone was inside the fence, Daryl and Glenn tied it back together fast. Running along the path, you got to an open space.

“It’s perfect,” Rick breathed as he looked at the prison yard. “If we can shut that gate and prevent more from getting into the yard, we can pick off these walkers.”

“So how do we shut the gate?” Hershel asked.

“I’ll do it. You guys cover me,” Glenn volunteered.

“No,” Maggie said. “It’s a suicide run.”

“I’m the fastest.”

“No. You, Maggie, Beth, and T-Dog draw as many as you can over there. Pull them away from the middle of the yard and pop ‘em through the fence. Daryl, you and [y/n] get up in that tower there. Carol, you’ve gotten to be a pretty good shot, join them. Carl, Dean, and Hershel, you go in that tower. Sam, stay close to Lori and the kids down here. I’ll run for the gate.”

“Be careful, Rick,” you said before running with Daryl and Carol to the tower. Adeline was still wrapped in Sam’s arms, her wide eyes watching as Lori opened the gate for Rick.

Cautiously, you quickly made your way to the top. There were no walkers for you to take out and you were grateful for the small victory. Holding your rifle steady, you aimed the sights at the walkers in the yard. When the group on the ground attracted a fair bit, you opened fire. Carefully, you made every bullet count. You didn’t have a lot of ammo to spare and you knew it.

The sound of gunfire filled the air, the sounds of bodies falling coming soon after. When Rick got to the gate, he kicked a walker out of the way and pulled it shut. You shot one that was sneaking up on him and when he managed to get into the third tower, you let out a sigh of relief.

“He did it!” Carol said.

“Light it up!” Daryl yelled to everyone.

With a stupid grin on your face, you continued shooting down walkers until there were none left in the yard. Once they were all dead for good, you turned to Daryl and kissed him. His free arm went around your waist and you broke apart with a laugh. Carol was looking at the two of you fondly and walked down the tower stairs with a soft smile on her face.

Once she was gone, Daryl pulled you closer to him. His lips met yours hungrily and you let out a small moan as his hand gripped your ass. You set your gun down and he set his crossbow down, pulling you closer to him now with both hands. There was no space between you and you could feel your body heating up. His touch was like fire and you couldn’t get enough of it. When he detached himself from your lips and started making his way down your neck, you keened.

“D-Daryl,” you whimpered.

“Yes?” He said, muffled slightly.

“We’re out in the open. They could still see us.” Your voice cracked.

“Don’t care. Need ta feel ya.”

With that, he dug his fingers into your ass and you jolted, your belly hitting his hard cock. You moaned and Daryl hissed in pleasure. He hiked up your thigh, making it wrap around his waist. You rocked your hips up into him and he responded the same.

“We-we should get back to the group. They’ll worry.” You didn’t want to stop, but you knew you had to.

“Don’t wanna stop.”

“How ‘bout this? We go back to the group and after they go to sleep, I’ll let you fuck me in this tower,” you purred into his ear.

“Fuck,” Daryl groaned. His hips jerked forward at the thought of being able to properly fuck you for the first time in a while.

“Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.” He kissed you hard once more and pulled himself away. You giggled as he adjusted his straining cock and he lifted an eyebrow at you.

“What’s funny?”

“Nothin’!” You said sweetly. Bending over to grab your gun, Daryl grabbed your clothed pussy and you moaned. Movements stuttering, you gave him a half-assed glare and he smirked cheekily.

“What was that for?” You asked.

“Nothin’,” he said.

“Oh hush.” Daryl laughed and smacked your behind as you walked past him.

“S’go, ‘fore your brothers throw a fit.”

---

After you had taken the prison yard, you made a fire while some others went to get the cars. Everyone was in good spirits and you felt lighter than you had in months. Sitting on a blanket, your family beside you lighthearted, made it hard to wipe the smile off of your face. Daryl was watching the gate and Carol had brought him some food.

Beth had started singing and you saw Daryl coming back, Carol in tow. Rick had come over too. Sitting down behind you, Daryl pulled you and Adeline into his lap and you snuggled close. Closing your eyes and listening to Beth’s and Maggie’s voices, you could feel yourself drifting off to sleep. When Daryl saw that, he gently jostled you awake.

“Don’t forget your promise ta me,” he growled lowly in your ear. You shivered at the hunger in his voice and he pulled you closer.

“Better all turn in,” Rick said. “I’ll take watch over there. Got a big day tomorrow.”

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“Look, I know we’re all exhausted. This was an amazing win. But we gotta push just a little more. Most of the walkers are dressed as guards and prisoners. There’s no civilians.”

“That would mean that the whole prison is secure,” you said.

“Exactly. It could also mean that the supplies may be intact. Food, medicine.”

“Weapons?” Daryl asked.

“That would be outside the prison itself, but no too far away. Wardens office would have the details. This place could be a gold mine.”

“We’re dangerously low on ammo,” Hershel said. “We’d run out before we made a dent.”

“That’s why we have to go in there. Hand to hand,” Rick said. “After all we’ve been through, I know we can handle it. These assholes don’t stand a chance.”

You let out a small laugh and so did Carl. When Rick walked to the tower, Lori followed him. Daryl patted your thigh and you got up, setting a sleeping Adeline next to Sophia on your blanket.

“We’re gonna go to the other tower to keep watch. You can only see so much from the one,” you said. Turning to Carol, you said, “Watch Adeline for me?”

“Alright. Have fun,” Carol said, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Not too much fun,” Dean muttered. Sam hit him in the side and Dean winced before waving his hand.

Daryl scoffed and pulled you by the hand. The walk to the tower was quiet, and you swung your intertwined hands. Once you had climbed the stairs and stepped into the small room, Daryl pushed you up against the door. His hands practically tore your shirt off of your body, your bra going next.

“Haven’t seen these perfect tits in too long,” Daryl groaned. He palmed at your chest and you keened, pushing yourself into him. You pulled him in for a kiss, running your hands up his shirt. He tugged his shirt over his head and threw it in the corner of the room before lifting you up onto the desk. Trailing his lips down your neck and onto your stomach, you whined at the soft touches.

He got to the waistband of your jeans and used his teeth to pry open the button and pull down the zipper. Once you were completely naked, he hungrily looked you over. His gaze was hot and even though he had seen you naked before, it still made you a little embarrassed.

“Can’t believe you’re all mine,” he growled.

Hurriedly taking his own pants off, he closed the gap between the two of you once again. He rutted into you gently, hands caressing every inch of your body. Your head thrown back, Daryl drank in the sight of you.

“What do ya want, babygirl?” He asked you.

“Want you,” you moaned.

“Me? What part of me?”

“Want your cock!”

Daryl smirked at those words and pressed himself closer to you. You cried out at his touch and he took pity on you, lining up his cock and pushing it into you. Letting out a high pitched moan, you scrambled to hold onto Daryl as he set a brutal pace. You knew that neither one of you was going to last long, it had been a couple months since you had last been with each other.

Grabbing his face, you pulled him into a searing kiss. Tongues intertwining, chests heaving, you hit your peak once Daryl started rubbing your clit. You clenched harshly around him and he came inside you a few seconds later. Trying to catch your breath, you moaned when Daryl started mouthing at your neck, hands running up your side. He started moving his hips again and your breath hitched.

“Got another one in there for me?”

---

The next day started early. Dean, Daryl, Rick, Glenn, Maggie, and T-Dog were going to clear out some of the prison. After they got armed and ready, you kissed your brother’s cheek.

“Stay safe,” you said.

“I will.” Dean gave Adeline a kiss and nodded to Sam before walking away with the others. You watched them start to take out the walkers and bit your lip in worry.

#New World #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead x reader #supernatural x reader #twd #spn #daryl dixon #daryl x reader #reader insert #x reader

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realityhelixcreates · 3 years

Text

Lasabrjotr Chapter 77: Like a Good Old-Fashioned Barn Raising

Chapters: 77/?

Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: pg

Relationships: Loki x Reader

Characters: Loki (Marvel),

Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), Party Time

Summary: Buridag begins!

Loki was awake long before you were, getting preparations ready, loose ends tied up, last minute orders sent out. He allowed you to sleep until you woke on your own, having removed his little illusory alarms from you some time ago.

Sometimes flower petals still rained upon you, and perfume rose from your footsteps, but no more snakes in the bath.

So you rose slowly, stretching and yawning the grogginess away at your own pace. Time was very hard to tell by looking out windows at this time of year, but when Loki entered the room carrying an egg sandwich, a little pile of fresh potato chips, and a glass of coffee, you placed yourself firmly within brunch territory.

Loki flicked on your sunlamp, gestured at the chair, and handed you your brunch once you'd taken your seat.

You munched your food and absorbed your light while Loki laid out the day's plans. You'd get dressed in a ceremonial outfit that included your armor and helmet, and join the parade that was gathering even now.

They were initially going to put you on Sleipnir. You had asked them not to. Sleipnir was magnificent, but you had no connection to him, nor to Leynarodd, who was the second choice. Your sweet, stout, shaggy little Acorn was who you preferred, a horse that belonged to no one initially, but who had formed a trusting bond with you.

Your clothing was, predictably, green, the underdress and apron a dark mossy color, hemmed on all edges with fine gold braid, embroidered with stripes of delicate knotwork, and your mark, also in gold. Over the top of this went your quilted tunic, in it's shimmering jade, and then your armor; the breastplate, the tassets, the bracers, pauldrons, greaves, and poleyns, though the last two were not visible. They went on over the leather trousers you'd been given to wear under your dress. They were sleek things, made of tough black leather, pleated in diagonal patterns, just like something Loki would wear. You thought the pleats had the advantage of putting more leather between you and any danger, and were flexible as well.

There were actually places where your familiar oval brooches could be fastened, your strings of shining beads strung between, your chatelaine dangled. Your belt was tooled leather and brass findings, hung with a leather purse, your Yggdrasil phone case, a small drinking horn carved with your mark, and of course, your knife. A little burst of deep pink against all the gold, green, and black.

You wore a minty-green velvet cape, a gift from Andsvarr, and your beautiful helmet to top it all off. You truly looked like something out of a fantasy novel, someone who looked like they should be standing next to the legendary figure that Loki currently cut.

He looked enormous, with his many asymmetrical layers, and molded shoulder guards, his billowing cape and hair spilling from beneath his magnificent curling horns. He shone with nornbein, and his cloak, shot with silk, shimmered subtly.

“You're so beautiful.” you mumbled. Loki smiled, and leaned down to adjust your cape, cheeks dusted with pink.

“Thank you.” he said, “I make every attempt. Though I think I will fade into the background under the power of your radiance.”

Warmth rushed to your face.

“Um, I know we've got to hurry and get Acorn, but I want to ask you a favor, Loki.”

“Anything. Tell me what it is and I'll make it so.”

You took a deep breath.

“I need you to stop trying to impress my father.”

The pink on his cheeks transformed into bright red.

“Ah. Yes, I rather hashed that, didn't I? I apologize. I thought that was still standard procedure, but your father, uh, explained otherwise.”

“Mhm, I'll bet he did. Look, I know you wanted to surprise us, but when it comes to things like that, you really oughta run it by me first. I could have told you that wouldn't work out the way you thought it would. You know, saved you from being chewed out like that. You can let me save you sometimes too.”

“ Like with the Huldra.”

“Kinda. Dad's not as bloodthirsty as she was, but he's a lot more stubborn.”

“Like father, like daughter, hm?” he teased.

“You have not seen me be stubborn yet.” you warned, and he gave you a quick smooch.

“A blessing, I'm sure. Very well, I agree. Surprises get run by you. Anything to save me from another tongue lashing. That man truly does not hold back.”

“I mean it though.” you persisted. “I'm not saying that you can't have any surprises at all, but talk to me about big stuff like that. If it's something that Asgardian law or custom would demand, but would be insulting to a human, we can maybe hash out an alternative that would satisfy both. That's the point, isn't it? Please, I really don't want to deal with anymore trouble between you two. Don't get hung up on impressing him, he has every reason to reject it, and he will. No more gifts, no toasts, no calling attention to him in public, nothing. He hates being the center of attention. Just let him be a guest, and see, without interference, that his little girl is doing fine on her own.”

“I really didn't mean to make him so angry.” Loki said, a little crestfallen. “And the more I tried to explain, the angrier he became. I just wanted him to know how much I value you. I wanted you to know too.”

“Material culture is different where I'm from. There are places in the world where that would have been understood and appreciated, but we've stopped doing it. In the same vein, fathers don't make all the decisions for their daughters anymore, so you don't actually need his approval. But...I need you to understand, it's not just that you took away his child, though that's bad enough. It's that I'm the only family he has left. My grandma only had one kid, and that was my dad. And she's dead, and so's my granddad, before I was even born. And then my mom died, and Beth too, and so I'm all that's left for him. And I have this giant Sword of Damocles hanging over my head all the time, and he's had to worry about that for my whole life. Most of the women on my mom's side all died from this, but occasionally, rarely, there's one that doesn't. I'm starting to hope that might be me. Maybe the magic is protecting me. But he's not going to be able to accept that so easily. I'm all he had left, and you took me away. That's all that's going to be important to him. You didn't even have to do the things you did in New York, this is the worst possible crime you could commit, in his eyes.”

Loki heaved a sigh of remorse. “And I cannot even return you to him. It seems there is one more thing I cannot set right.”

“The best you can do is make sure I'm okay. And don't bother him anymore. And maybe let him come visit more often. The more he sees me living my life and being fine, the more confidence he will have that I'm actually safe here.”

“I shall endeavor to help you thrive.” Loki promised.

“All right, so if that's settled, we should go get our horses.”

******

Acorn was, like you, a bit overdressed in your opinion. Long tabbards and blankets covered her from nose to rump, green and gold, embroidered with oak leaves. They were so long, they almost brushed the ground. Ribbons were braided into her wild mane and tail, and bells jingled with every movement. Like you, she could barely be seen under her splendor. But she was probably warm, and happily accepted a carrot from your hand. Placid as always, she let you up on her back, and fell into step behind Leynarodd, who likewise, followed up behind Sleipnir, whose hooves still rang like bells even over the thin layer of packed snow that covered the recently cleared streets.

There was a whole procession of people-this was a parade after all, and Thor, on Sleipnir, was preceded by the twin Valkyries, carrying Asgardian banners, as well as several musicians, and Beli, who chanted an ancient epic on the exploits of Buri.

Saga had translated the chant for you a while ago, and it sounded something like the sensationalized, self-aggrandizing boasts of pharaohs, or Mesopotamian kings-the kind that claimed to be rulers of the world, or rulers of the heavens themselves, to have battled armies of demons, killed giant lions with only a stick-that sort of thing. But when Beli called out those verses in such an ancient dialect of Asgardian, the words themselves felt powerful.

Thor followed slowly, Sliepnir plodding along, both of them absolutely huge. Loki and Leynarodd came right behind, only slightly smaller. And then you and Acorn, almost comical in your stature, diminutive by comparison. You were keenly aware of it, but either all of Asgard was too polite to say anything about it, or they simply didn't care.

The human guests, corralled in roped off areas, whooped and cheered when when you passed. Behind you, more musicians played, and a circle of Seidkonas walked in silent dignity. Then came more banners, the rest of the Valkyries, representatives of each noble house and guild, and the rest of the Aesir in Asgard, provided they didn't already have another position in the parade.

After them, the gathered Asgardians began following, lengthening out the procession, bright balls of magical light bobbing overhead. The sun had barely peeked over the horizon, and would be slinking away in a mere three or so hours, so the mage lights sparkled everywhere. Helpful Einherjar herded the humans to the next specially roped off area, so they could follow the parade as well; you caught a few amused faces at the playful rowdiness displayed by celebrating humans.

That was just how humans were when they were excited about something. Humans loved to holler, to jump, and dance, and clap. Some of them were even trying to keep time with the music.

You weren't actually able to pick out your father or Tara in the crowd, nor anyone else you knew, so you just kept your head forward and your back straight, trying to look as dignified as you could.

You'd only ever seen a few of what you considered 'proper' parades: in a small town a parade mostly consisted of people waving from the backs of neighborhood pickup trucks and tractors, maybe decorated with balloons or paper chains, blasting music from dusty old speakers. In the autumn, there might be pumpkins and corn stalks, and usually hayrides. But never anything like this spectacle.

As you got closer to the construction site, the apprentice mages responsible for all the floating lights started throwing sparks from their hands, like colorful sparklers. The gathered Asgardians began lining up in their designated areas, ready to play their part. The foundations had already been dug, and everything that needed to go into them was already there. All that remained was the pouring.

Thor, Loki, and yourself dismounted as close to in unison as you could manage, the horses carefully lead away to a temporary enclosure. You headed to the stack of decorative bricks, and took your place among the Asgardians there, while Thor gave the order for the cement to pour.

While this went on, Beli gathered his students and skalds in front of the Huldrastone to recite a modern epic. Within the first few verses you realized that it was about the Huldra's attack, and your confrontation with her.

Of course, the poem was much cleaner and more elegant than the actual events had been, but certain things had still been included. Your ears burned beneath your helmet when Beli reached the part where you had 'bestowed upon the fallen prince, a gentle sacrificial kiss, knowing that to trade life for life would grant him breath once more.'

You had finally spotted your father and Tara in the crowd; he crossed his arms and glared upon hearing the verse, while Tara gave you a cheezy grin and thumbs up.

As the poem reached its conclusion, the cement finished pouring, and a new recitation began. As Thor and Loki knelt and began scratching ritual runes into the wet cement, Beli's current group of student came forward and began telling the story of Beli, while apprentice mages illustrated the words with colorful, stylized illusions.

There were harrowing battles against huge stone people, the construction of the original Bifrost, which at that time connected a fleet of alien ships to one another. The illusions showed the gathering of construction materials, the building of a platform in space, and the grand revelation of the crystalline platform upon which Asgard slowly grew. Mountain and plain, river and ocean, building after magnificent building rose into the sky. Their ships captured and carved an asteroid, then set it in orbit as a bright new moon. All this was accomplished by the use of a glowing, icy blue cube that was difficult to look directly at. It was compelling though; it caught and held your attention with its beautiful, sparkling light.

You knew what that device was: you had learned about it in your lessons with Saga. It was the object known as the Tesseract, a four dimensional creation meant to house the incredible energy of an Infinity Stone. Perhaps that was why it was simultaneously fascinating, yet hard to perceive. Your curious human brain was drawn to its uniqueness, yet equally unable to fully fathom it.

That device was the key to Asgard's existence and eventual success. It was unthinkable to you that Odin had just lost it on Earth, as Sagas histories had proclaimed. It must have been a terrible loss.

Thor and Loki completed their carving, and began the process of imbuing the foundations with divine power. Goosebumps rose on your arms, and there was a pricking in your sinuses, like you were about to sneeze. There was almost a flavor to it.

The actual blessing didn't take nearly as long as the rune carving ritual, and soon, the two brothers stepped back, to allow others to begin their work. More mages worked a spell together that lifted the water out of the cement, drying it within moments. People came forward with wires and pipes, floor and wall supports, insulation, hammers, plaster, bricks, and mortar. In rotating lines people laid flooring and installed fixtures, scraped grout and assembled frames. Every now and then youths moved through, sweeping up dust, always away from you.

It suddenly became clear that that was why you were so far back in line, why you'd been assigned a decorative brick, something that would be placed near the very end of the construction. There would be no dust then. Gratitude swelled in your chest, but you said nothing. There was singing now, simple, repetitive melodies that sounded like work songs.

Every hour, volunteers carted huge, heated cauldrons around the lines and groups of human spectators, dipping out hot drinks like witch's potions, and it was possible that there was a simple sort of magic in things like hot chocolate, strong coffee, and buttered rum on a cold day.

The building went up faster than you thought possible, the widows, doors, and lights being set into place as auroras began ribboning across the sky.

Finally, there was one brick left. You lifted it up, as the singing seemed to intensify, scooped some mortar from the pail, and fitted it all into the only remaining slot. Giving the brick a light pat to make sure it was secure, you turned back to the assembled crowd.

“We did it.” You said, and the cheering began.

#lasabrjotr #loki (marvel)#loki x reader

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hotchley · 3 years

Text

those three stupid words

Once again, I have no idea what this is, but I was thinking about Hotch and Jack having different love languages, and also how Haley told Hotch that he needs to hear the words so now here we are! it’s just something i wrote after finishing my chemistry notes x

Minor spoilers for season 12/13. I’m on season 10 but I know what happens so it’s mentioned briefly

tw: implied domestic abuse, hospitals, minor character deaths, mentions of periods, panic attacks, prescribed drugs, thoughts of death

read on ao3!

Hotch is terrible at saying the words I love you because it’s almost like a curse. He remembers how they would joke about The Reid Effect meaning children and animals didn’t like their youngest agent, but The Hotchner Effect is tragedy the moment he got close enough to say those three words.

He told his mother he loved her and she never felt mercy until the day she died, even though her husband had been in the ground for years by that point.

He told Kate Joyner that he loved her- not in the way he loved Haley- but in the way one does when they feel like they have a guardian keeping them safe and she bled out in a hospital, afraid and alone.

He told Haley Brooks he would love her forever, because at the time forever seemed like nothing and now he visits her grave with a bouquet of flowers and the son he is terrified of hurting.

He told Emily Prentiss he loved her, in whatever way she would let him, because he thought it would be enough to make her stay, but it wasn’t because she went back to London and it was selfish of him to ask her to come back. She only came back when he had to leave.

He won’t say the words, but he will remember how every single member of his team- including Ashley Seaver and Jordan Todd- took their coffee and he will remember whose period is due when and what snacks they want. He remembers what audiobook to listen to with who and he remembers where to stand to make them comfortable. He could make their lunches and patch up old wounds with his eyes closed, but he can never say the words, and most of the time it’s enough. The team understand because they have to.

But Jack Hotchner, for better or for worse, is not his father. Nor is he his mother. He is some weird combination of the two, for he has his father’s fury and anger at the world, but also his kind and gentle tendencies towards those that need it most. But he has his mother’s ability to spit harsh words that he doesn’t really mean and her desire to seek goodness in everyone has passed onto him. He has his mothers soft, blonde hair but his fathers’ brown eyes. Only his hair has not been darkened by the threat of a serial killer and his eyes do not hold the same sadness or guilt when he looks at old photos.

There are days where Jack will come down the stairs and find that his father has already made his breakfast. It’s usually on the days that he’s running late. He will come home from a trip with his friends’ to find the light in the hallway still on, because his father understands how suffocating he finds the dark. There will be macaroni and cheese from the box on the days he slams the apartment door and throws his bag onto his bed.

Jack knows his father loves him. He knows how hard it is for his dad to let him go out and do normal teenager things and he knows how painful it is to watch him grow up without Haley there. But because Hotch still thinks that Jack knows none of this, he never breathes a word. He knows that his father is one of the best men to exist, maybe in spite of, or maybe because of, everything he has been through.

But there are days where he tells his dad he loves him and does not get a response. Where he will shout the words as he runs out the door to get a lift from his friend- it’s what the cool kids do- and be met with silence. Where he’ll say them just before heading to his bedroom and get a smile.

He knows that his dad struggles to say the words and that they don’t mean everything, but it still hurts to not hear them. And he knows he’s being stupid, but he’s just a human. When something hurts, rational thought does not come into it. It just hurts.

He is sat on his bed, stupidly wondering whether he is the problem. He’s never heard his father say those three stupid words to anyone, not even Beth or Emily or Dave, but maybe once he did.

Hotch comes back from the grocery store and does not hear Jack come running down the stairs to see what sweet treat that he shouldn’t have got but still did because it’s a one time thing.

He knows that George Foyet is dead. And so is Peter Lewis. They can’t hurt Jack. But being a profiler for so long taught him that no matter how many monsters you defeat or send to jail or kill, there are always more waiting to take their place.

So he drops the bags on the kitchen counter, reaches for a gun that isn't there anymore and just hopes that the one good thing in his life hasn't been taken.

The door to Jack's room is open. Hotch nudges it slightly, letting out a sigh of relief when he sees his son sitting on his bed. The sigh of relief quickly becomes a noise of concern when he realises Jack is crying. Silently. The tears course down his cheek as though he's not even aware of their existence.

That's another thing about Jack Hotchner. He cries the same way his father does.

"Hey, hey, buddy, what's going on? What happened? Come on, talk to me, and we'll make everything right. Together. You know we can. We always do," he said, kneeling by his side.

Jack shakes his head. Aaron slowly counts to ten.

"Buddy come on. Talk to me."

"Sometimes I wonder whether or not you love me," Jack blurts out.

Hotch recoils like he'd been hit, and in some ways, he has. In some ways, that single sentence does more to destroy him than every blow his father had ever rained upon him, every parent that had spat in his face about not knowing what it was like to lose a child, just because he could not wear his wedding ring for a moment longer could ever attempt. It hurts him more than Foyet's knife plunging in had.

"Buddy of course I do. You never need to worry about that. Did something happen to make you doubt that? Because I know sometimes I get angry, but I swear nothing will ever change."

Jack looks up, and Hotch feels like he's looking in a mirror. How many times had he looked at his own father with that same scared and desperate look?

But Jack isn't scared. No, Jack had never been scared of his father, only for. Jack is tired and desperate and Hotch doesn't know what he is meant to do.

"Then how come you can never say the words? It's just three stupid words, yet somehow you never manage to actually say them. You dance around them and you say a hundred thousand other things but you never actually say it!"

Hotch is still on his knees. They're beginning to ache. He knows what he needs to say, but he just can't do it. He opens his mouth to say what his son needs to hear because there are no monsters hiding in the closet, waiting to strike. He opens his mouth because his son needs to know that he is the best thing Aaron has ever known. He opens his mouth and nothing comes out. It is like there is a barrier that prevents him from getting a single syllable, let alone three fully formed words out.

It is like a lump in his throat that he should be strong enough to get past is getting bigger and bigger, stopping him from giving his son the one thing he needs.

"Jack," he whispers, but it is not enough and it never will be enough.

Jack let out a sob, running past his father and is out the door by the time Hotch reaches it.

He tries to breathe. He tries so, so hard to breathe because he needs to find Jack before a monster in the form of a charming smile or desperate person finds him and takes him away- not just for a few months- but forever. He tries to breathe, but just like the three stupid words he can never say, he can't.

Instead he sobs, wondering why he is so broken. Why the universe had decided that Haley would be the one taken from Jack and not him. Why every single part of his body feels paralysed, stopping him from even reaching for his phone and dialling Jessica.

It passes a few minutes later, after he is able to ground himself and regulate his breathing, but it feels like hours. He's so exhausted that he just wants to curl up on the carpet and close his eyes, but he can't. He needs to find his son.

Jack had left his phone in his jacket pocket, which means Aaron is able to track him. He contemplates going after him, but then he sees that he is going to the graveyard. They've been there so many times that they could both go with their eyes closed.

He paces around the apartment instead. It suffocates him only moments later, and he finds himself grabbing his car keys. He does not go to the graveyard. When he told Jessica in simple sentences what had happened, she told him to let Jack go. To only go after him if his location indicated danger.

He finds himself at the beach he'd dragged Jack to when he wouldn't stop moping about his first break-up. In fairness, the boy had been thirteen and it had seemed like the end of the world at the time, but because Hotch had never been that keen on the girl, he was secretly glad.

Jack goes there shortly after Hotch leaves. Hotch drives back to the apartment, still feeling sick. When he gets in, it takes everything he has to head to the kitchen, and not his bedroom.

He has no idea how long Jack has been sitting on that one for, but he's been gone for an hour. He'll be hungry when he gets back. Making dinner is something Hotch enjoys, but that day, it felt like another papercut on his heart.

Jack's pillbox was on the counter. Hotch doesn't want to invade his privacy, but he needs to know. He picks it up. The pills he was supposed to take that morning were still there. Yet another reason for him to resent himself. If he hadn't dashed out early to make a meeting he could have rescheduled, then him and Jack could have taken their pills together, and he wouldn't be sitting there wondering if Jack was going to suddenly end up in the E.R because his heart condition played up.

The sun had set, but Jack hadn't come home. Hotch was back to pacing the apartment. Jack's location showed that he was still at the beach. He hoped it wasn't just that his phone had fallen out of his jacket pocket when someone came from behind him. Jessica had promised to call the moment she heard anything.

There had been nothing, apart from a message reminding him to eat. He doesn't have the heart to tell her that if he does, it will all end up being flushed down the toilet.

Although he's pacing Jack's room, he left the hallway light on. He knows how suffocating Jack finds the dark, and in all the years they've been living in the apartment, neither of them has ever come home to darkness. He isn't about to start letting that happen now.

Jack's key turns in the lock when it's close to nine. Hotch does not move from his position because he's too much of a coward to have that confrontation now, and he wants to give Jack the chance to decide where he's going to go. Hotch hopes he goes to the kitchen. There's a bowl of mac and cheese- straight from the box, with extra cheese grated on- still warm for him to eat.

But Jack heads straight up the stairs and walks into his room, almost like he knows his dad will be there, waiting for his baby to come home safe.

Jack walks in, his eyes red and still watering, and finds his dad sat on the floor. In his arms is a bear. The only bear that Jack still has on his bed, because the rest of his toys are in the closet. But the one on his bed is special. It's from Build-A-Bear. Aaron and Jack made the trip for Jack's birthday. The first one they'd spent together without Haley.

He still buys the thing accessories, even now.

Aaron looks up and drops the bear.Jack looks down.

"I'm sorry," he says, because now that he's had time to think, he's not angry with his dad. He just feels guilty. So guilty for shouting at him because he knows his dad loves him and that he just has a slightly different way of showing it, and there's nothing wrong with that.

Aaron puts the bear down and walks over to his son.

For one stupid moment, Jack thinks he's going to walk right past him, out the door, and never come back. Other people call his imagination a blessing and something beautiful. He calls it his fatal flaw.

Obviously, his dad does not walk out of the apartment. He doesn't even walk out of the bedroom.

What he does do is this: he walks up to his son, looks into his eyes, and for the first time, Jack realises just how similar they are- the exact same shade of brown- and sees tears that haven't fallen yet. Aaron pulls his son in for a hug, and before Jack even knows what he's doing, he's falling apart in his dad's arms, sobs torn from him, breath coming in uneven pants.

Aaron doesn't let go. He just holds his son close, hoping that he hasn't destroyed yet another person with his touch.

Eventually, Jack's sobs calm and he's able to breathe easily. Still, his father does not let go. He waits for his son to move out of his arms and sit down, before he joins him on the floor.

"Jack. I-" he starts, but his son cuts him off with a shake of his head.

"Don't. Please. Not now. I know you do, and I know I need to hear the words, but I can't hear them right now or else I will always associate them with this moment and I just- I can't."

Hotch can feel his son starting to panic, so he just nods. "There's mac and cheese in the kitchen if you're up for it. And if you're not, just eat and drink something before you go to sleep. I don't want you waking up in the middle of the night because you're hungry."

He stands, fully intending to leave his son be for the rest of the night.

"Dad?" Jack whispers.Hotch crouches down again.

"Yeah buddy."

"Can I- can I just stay in your room tonight?"

No parenting manual or article teaches you what to do when your fifteen-year-old son asks if he can sleep in your room after he storms out because you're too afraid of what happened to everyone in your life to say those three words he needs more than anything.

But parenting manuals are nothing compared to the instincts of anyone that loves a child. And sometimes, you need to trust that you're doing the right thing. And in that moment, Aaron does.

"Sure kid," he says. And he doesn't feel like he's done the wrong thing.

Aaron watches his son sleep that night. Jack pretends he doesn't notice what his dad is doing, and in turn, Aaron pretends he doesn't know what Jack is doing.

The next day, he makes them both breakfast. Jack said he wanted to go to school when he woke up, and Hotch trusts his judgement, but made him promise to come home if at any point he felt unwell. He can cancel his classes for his son.

Just before Jack leaves, Hotch calls out for him.

His son turns around, looking so much like his mother with those innocent eyes and slight smile, like he knows exactly what his father is about to say. For a moment, it's like Haley is really there with them and Hotch's breath catches slightly. He swallows the lump in throat and fights the barrier.

"I love you," he says. It comes out too quickly, slightly choked and all the words blend into one, but he does it. He says it.

It makes Jack smile, slightly tearful himself. "I know. I love you too dad."

When the door closes behind him, Aaron leans against the counter for a moment, grounding himself. Everything will be fine, he tells himself. Jack will be fine.

And he is. He comes home in one piece, a wide smile on his face when he reveals the two cupcakes he got from the local bakery on the way home.

Aaron smiles at him because that is his son, who he loves with all his heart.

And no matter how much he struggles to say those three little words, he will always try for him.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #fanfiction #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #hotch #jack hotchner #hurt aaron hotchner #sad aaron hotchner #tw domestic abuse #tw hospitals #tw minor character death #tw periods #tw substances #tw mentions of death

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