#Lori the TRAITOR

[littlelovingideas]

Now Lori backing away and looking at Rick with that dumb horrified expression..

As if he didn’t save her from an actual lunatic.

And shes out here acting like Rick is the crazed nutbar?

Get fucked.

#the walking dead #bean rambles #bean tortures herself #little loving ideas #the walking dead season 3 #correction: bean loses what’s left of her sanity #text #a n g e r y #Rick grimes #Daryl Dixon #Carl grimes #lori grimes #Lori the TRAITOR #ricky dicky doo da grimes

[lilyevanstan1325]

❤️ Built For This World ❤️

Chapter 6

Behind my still closed and sleepy eyelids I perceive an annoying light.

I grunt, letting out a soft wail.

Damn it.

I have to find a better arrangement.

As grateful as I am to have a place to sleep, the floor of the RV isn't exactly the best.

My back hurts.

I blink quickly a couple of times and then finally open my eyes.

Another day is about to begin.

Another day of anxieties and fears awaits me but a small part of me is no longer too scared.

Things between me and Daryl seem to have taken a more peaceful path.

And this thought makes me smile like an idiot.

Well, at least now I know he doesn't hate me.

I don't know exactly what we are.

We are not friends.

We are not lovers that's for sure.

But we both need to be close and I'm not complaining about that.

I stretch my arms upward and my back pops in multiple places.

Ok, it's settled.

Next run I have to find a tent.

And maybe a sleeping bag.

I roll onto my side, pushing myself to get back on my feet.

I look around and obviously I'm alone.

Shit!

I need to get an alarm clock too.

I can't keep sleeping more than everyone else, I don't want to give that asshole of Shane another reason to yell at me.

I snort.

Yet I had asked Carol to wake me up when she got up.

I get out of the RV looking for my friend and I see her right next to Lori, together they are hanging out the laundry.

Great.

Everyone is already busy with something and I'm here to sleep.

It's certainly not a good way to make me accept.

I walk towards the two women, fixing my ponytail, trying to tidy up my not-so-fantastic look.

Another thing I need?

New clothes.

Glenn and I need to take another little trip into town soon.

Glenn, my sweet little traitor.

I sigh resignedly.

“Good morning” I yawn as I approach the two women.

Lori mutters a hello under her breath, avoiding my gaze.

I'm sorry that she feels uncomfortable with me but I understand her.

She doesn't know me well and maybe she fears that I might betray her trust but I will show her to what I'm about and that she can trust me.

After all, it's not her fault.

It's not her fault that Shane let her fall into his clutches.

“Good morning, Summer” Carol greets me with a huge smile on her face.

I can see the curiosity shining in her eyes.

I roll my eyes and she giggles.

I know what she wants to know.

Last night she saw me leave with Daryl and when I got back to the RV she was already asleep so she doesn't know what happened.

Technically nothing happened but something changed inside me.

Now I know that Daryl wants me here, by his side.

For what I don't know but we will both find out.

“Why didn't you wake me up?” I ask her, yawning again.

“Because you need to rest Summer and then you came back late last night…so?” Carol whispers, lowering her voice so Lori can't hear us.

I look around trying to figure out where the others are.

“What exactly do you want to know, Carol?”

“Oh let me think…maybe I want to know when you came back tonight.Or what did you do tonight”

Her bright sly eyes make the corner of my lips lift.

“Don't fantasize too much.We just talked”

Carol crosses her arms over her chest.

“Okay.You don't have to tell me about it.But something happened last night, with Shane I mean”

I jump when I hear his name.

Instinctively my eyes find Shane as he hobbles towards the old yellow Cherokee where Rick, Andrea and T-dog are talking to each other.

It seems his ankle isn't fully healed yet.

At the same time Daryl comes out of his tent.

The sun reflects off his crossbow strapped on his back.

Today he seems to be in a slightly better mood.

I pinch my bottom lip between my teeth.

I wonder if I'm the cause of the aforementioned good mood.

He walks with a sure step as he fastens the last buttons of his shirt, a shirt that clings to his statuesque body in a sinful way.

“Earth calls Summer”

In front of my eyes Carol is waving her hand, which I playfully push away.

“Yes, you certainly didn't do anything.Your dreamy look tells me something completely different" the woman teases me, making me giggle.

I look at Daryl one last time and then turn to her.

“No Carol, we didn't do anything.But that doesn't mean I wouldn't want it" I reply smiling and winking at her.

Carol giggles, nudging me lightly.

It's nice to have someone you can confide in and joke around with.

“But what about Shane?Why do I feel like you literally stopped Daryl from beating his ass yesterday?”

A shiver runs down my spine thinking back to last night.

If Daryl hadn't listened to me…I'm scared to imagine what would have happened.

Carol looks at me carefully with her big eyes, a feeling of concern and love on her face.

I glance towards Lori and my gesture does not go unnoticed by Carol who raises an eyebrow in response.

“I'll talk to you about it later, okay?”

She nods.

I can trust her.

And speaking of who I can trust, I haven't seen Glenn yet.

He and I definitely need to have a chat.

In front of the car Rick gestures, pointing to a map placed on the hood.

Today I won't sit idle, today I will give my help to Sophia's research.

“Carol, do you mind taking care of the chores today?”

“Sure” she replies without hesitation.

I thank her with a nod of my head moving away from her and towards the group of people in front of us.

“All right, everyone's getting new search grids today” Rick is saying when I reach them.

I stop next to Daryl, immediately catching his attention.

His bright blue eyes look down at me.

“Hey” he greets me embarrassed.

The tips of his ears are red.

I answer him with a brief smile.

His embarrassed gaze returns to Rick as I lower mine to my boots.

Here in the sunlight the weight of the words we said to each other last night, when the darkness protected us, seems to crush us.

Maybe he regretted having laid himself so bare in front of my eyes.

Or maybe he didn't really mean what he said.

When I look up Shane is staring at me, he looks at me as if he is annoyed by my presence.

As if he were bothered by my very existence.

I feel Daryl's body slide slightly in front of mine, his hand rests lightly on my hip, hiding me completely behind him.

This is his way of letting me know that he cares about me in some way and won't let anyone hurt me.

A slight smile curves my lips.

“If she made it as far as the farmhouse Daryl founds, she might have gone further east than we've been so far” continues Rick.

From behind Daryl's shoulder I can see Shane shake his head and walk away to sit in the passenger seat with his back to us.

I don't have time to investigate further his annoyed attitude that another voice attracts our attention.

It's Jimmy.

If I remember correctly he should be Beth's boyfriend.

“I'd like to help” begins the boy, approaching Rick.

“I know the area pretty well and stuff”

Rick nods.

“If Hersel agrees, we wouldn't mind having extra help”

His tired look makes me understand how much this man is fighting with all his strength not to collapse.

His heart and his head right now I'm sure are not pleasant places.

Great responsibilities rest on him.

His head and heart are full of worries and fears.

Fear for his son.

The burden of protecting his people.

The fear of never finding Sophia.

We all need to find that little girl, not just for Carol but for all of us.

She is our last chance to continue to have hope in this chaotic new world.

Jimmy nods.

“Yeah, yeah.He said I should ask you”

Rick thanks him with a nod and a small pat on his back.

If Rick agreed for Jimmy I'm sure he won't object to my decision to volunteer for the research.

I take a step forward joining Daryl side again.

“I want to help too, Rick”

The archer stiffens and he and Rick exchange a long look after which with a slight snort and an annoyed look Daryl nods.

“Ya can come with me” he grumbles without even looking at me.

Great.

I move nervously, shifting my weight from one foot to the other.

I feel the blade of my knife stored in the waistband of my jeans rubbing against the skin of my back.

I can't decipher Daryl's reaction but I'm pretty sure he doesn't want me with him.

I admit that it hurts me but at least he accepted, does it mean something right?

“Okay.Like I said before we've got a lot of ground to cover so any help is welcome”

I'm about to thank Rick when Shane's annoying voice interrupts us.

“Nothing about what Daryl found screams Sophia to me.Anyone could have been holed up in that farmhouse”

Asshole I think, letting all the disappointment I feel for his words show through the expression on my face.

This man is heartless.

“Anybody includes her, right?” Andrea intervenes.

Daryl fidgets next to me.

I get close enough so that our arms touch.

He relaxes a little but doesn't look at me.

“Whoever slept in that cupboard was no bigger than yay-high” Daryl says, indicating with his hand the height of a little girl.

“It's a good lead” I speak supporting his hypothesis.

“Maybe we'll pick up her trail again” adds Rick hopefully.

His crystalline gaze falls on his best friend as if he felt the need to have his approval but obviously the man ignores our words.

“No maybe about it.We're gonna borrow a horse, head up to this ridge righ' here, get a bird's-eye view of the whole grid.If she's up there, we'll spot her”

The confidence with which Daryl speaks while with his thick finger he points on the map sends my brain into a tailspin.

His dominant nature prevails over everyone here.

He doesn't speak for what if or hypotheses, he is certain of what he says.

He knows that he will find Sophia.

It's just a matter of time.

“Good idea” nods T-Dog.

“Maybe you'll see your chupacabra up there too” he adds with a chuckle.

I can't help myself and smile too.

I didn't think Daryl would be a guy who believes in such nonsense.

“Chupacabra?” Rick asks, raising both eyebrows skeptically.

Dale arrives behind us and places a bag on the hood of the car from which he begins to take out a rifle.

“You never heard this?” questions the man addressed to everyone.

“Our first night in camp” the old man begins to tell “Daryl tells us that the whole thing reminds him of a time when he went squirrel hunting and he saw a chupacabra”

Jimmy and I laugh in unison, both getting a scowl from the man.

“What are ya braying at, jackass?” he grumbles at both of us.

I shake my head even more amused as Jimmy ventures a response.

“So you believe in a blood-sucking dog?” the boy teases him.

Daryl shifts in place, running a hand over his face.

“Do you believe dead people walking around?” he replies, silencing the boy.

Amused by the whole situation, I put my hand on his chest, giving him a playful pat.

“You have a point, Dixon” I chuckle.

He looks at me with stormy eyes but then he cracks a smile, shaking his head, making me weak on my knees.

He seems amused by my insolence.

Shane huffs like he's bored.

Each of us is trying to see the bright side in all this crap why the hell does he have to be such an asshole?

Suddenly I feel anger rising in my body, I can feel it boiling under my skin.

His threats.

His looks full of disgust.

His intolerance towards the others.

His indifference towards Sophia.

Lori.

All this mixed together creates a deadly mix inside my head.

Dale sees the change in emotions in me and before he can grab me by the arm I'm already gone.

With my mind clouded by anger I march towards Shane ignoring the various gasps of the others and once I reach him I stand in front of him crossing my arms over my chest.

“What is your problem?”

Shane, who was looking down at his hands, raises his gaze to meet mine.

At first he seems confused, then, realizing that I was addressing him, he narrows his icy gaze and, standing up, he towers over me.

We exchange glances full of hatred and resentment.

His nostrils flare menacingly.

“Do you really want to know, kid?” he mocks me.

This only increases my anger, I dig my nails into the palms of my hands to keep them at bay.

Right now I just want to punch that know-it-all fucking face of his.

“Take it easy man” Rick murmurs as he takes a few steps closer.

I keep my gaze straight on Shane's.

I'm not afraid of him.

And I want him to know this.

“Yes, I want to know.Because we're here, trying to find that poor little girl and you almost seem annoyed, like you don't care.You're acting like we're just wasting our time” I hiss, barely containing all my disgust.

I feel like I'm losing the last bit of my mental clarity now.

Shane laughs in response, a laugh full of mockery and malice.

“That's the point kid.There is no us.You are not part of this group.Who gives you permission to get involved, huh?”

His words hurt me but I don't give them importance.

I know what he's trying to do.

He wants to cut me off.

He wants to convince others that I don't belong here.

Shane takes another step towards me, our bodies almost touch and that's when a large body positions itself between us.

“Step back” Daryl's voice is low, menacing.

It almost sounds like an animal growl roaring from deep in his chest.

The two men challenge each other.

Neither of them lowers their gaze.

Neither of them step back.

“That's enough, son” Dale intervenes trying to calm things down.

Andrea grabs Jimmy's upper arm pulling him back, away from the two men who seem ready to jump at each other's throats at any moment.

Finally Shane takes a step back but his hostile gaze remains focused on the archer's.

“You know what man, I didn't think it was enough for you that a little girl let you smell some pussy to make you turn your back to your people.To your family.Is the promise of a few fucks really enough to make you lose your mind?"

His words make me blush violently.

Daryl's arm muscles tighten, his biceps swell dangerously, his hands curl into menacing fists.

He takes a step forward, pressing his forehead threateningly against Shane's.

“Be careful with words, man.I'm not the one who loses his mind over a pussy.Ya know what I mean, righ'?”

No, oh no.

It can't happen.

I try to tame my instincts and approaching Daryl's back I seek his hand with mine.

I grab his large closed fist which slowly and trembling loosens and intertwines with mine.

With a small tug I pull him back under the amazed gaze of those present.

Taming a man like Daryl Dixon is almost impossible but strangely I succeed every time.

It's as if I'm the only one who can penetrate the anger that clouds his mind.

Rick's gaze bounces between the two men in confusion.

Obviously he doesn't know what they're talking about and I tremble at the thought that he might catch the hidden allusion in Daryl's words.

Lori needs to stay out of this whole thing.

I have the duty to protect her.

To protect her secret.

Her baby.

"Let's go.It's not worth it" I whisper to the only man I really care about.

With extreme difficulty Daryl turns his back on Shane, looking down at our still intertwined fingers.

His body trembles and his eyes close.

The tension seems to fade as Dale takes a step in our direction and places a hand on Daryl's shoulder, squeezing it slightly.

“Yeah that's exactly what I mean!Get your bitch and get her out of here.This isn't her place”

The words shouted behind us by Shane trigger something in my head.

It's as if a blackout obscured all my rationality.

I see red.

The only thing I remember is letting go of Daryl's hand and lunging towards Shane with the handle of the knife gripped between my fingers.

A moment later Daryl's arms were wrapped around my waist.

I struggle trying to free myself, fighting against the incredible strength of the man behind me.

I grunt as nonsensical sounds leave my lips.

Guttural, almost animal sounds.

Shane doesn't step back at the sight of my knife, in fact he comes towards me as if he were ready to hit me back.

Rick steps in front of him, pressing both his hands on Shane's chest.

“C’mon Shane.Stop it!” he yells at him nervously.

“You're crazy!Let me tell you something bitch, sooner or later everyone will understand it and know they made a mistake welcoming you” Shane shouts trying to escape from the arms of Rick who is now behind him and holds him by the crooks of his elbows.

I try to free myself, shaking in the throes of pure madness.

I'm not afraid of him and if I have to use force to make him understand I won't back down.

The arms around my waist tighten more tightly.

Agitated steps sound behind me and after a few moments Glenn's face fills my entire field of vision.

“Summer” he murmurs in a worried tone, his big dark eyes darting towards the knife in my hand.

His hands are raised in my direction as if he was trying to disarm me.

Or as if he were afraid that I might hurt him.

This thought makes my anger subside.

“Calm down, Sunshine” the calm archer's voice vibrates in my ear, finally bringing me back to reality.

His arms are still wrapped around my waist as he lifts me just enough so my feet no longer touch the ground and drag me away.

I give up and stop struggling and, mortified, I look down when I meet Carol's worried eyes and Lori's panic-filled face.

Daryl moves quickly towards the stable and once we get there he sets me down making sure my feet are stable on the ground.

Remaining behind me, he continues to hold me, leaving only one arm to wrap around my waist while the other hand moves to rest in the crook of my elbow, sliding it along my arm until it reaches the hand that still holds the knife.

“Let it go, c'mon” he whispers extremely calmly.

My eyes rest on my hand tightened around the handle of the knife.

I watch his thick calloused fingers slip between mine, opening them gently.

The realization of my gesture hits me violently and the memory of what I have just done tightens my throat in a grip of shame and regret.

God, what have I done?

What will think of me the others?

Once the knife is no longer in my hands Daryl lets me go but my knees are shaking so much I can't stay upright.

I sag until I feel the hard ground beneath my knees.

In front of my eyes I see only Daryl's boots.

“Summer?”

I squeeze my eyes shut, hiding my face in my hands.

I want to be alone.

I need to cry.

“Summer?”

His voice again.

I shake my head violently remaining silent.

From where we are it is impossible to hear the others.

Who knows what they'll be saying about me now.

What if they were really considering the idea of sending me away?

After all, I couldn't blame them.

My behavior is unstable.

I am emotionally unstable.

I come from a reality unknown to them.

I lived under a particular leadership when I was with him and perhaps I am not ready for civil coexistence.

I'm not ready to live in a place where decisions are made together.

In the days following the end of the entire civilized world I learned to obey.

To don't reply.

This outburst of mine is only the result of my mental distress.

Maybe he was right after all.

Your place is here, next to me.I will give you the world Summer but you must obey me.

“Summer?”

His voice again but this time his warm and strong hands wrap around my wrists and with disarming ease he manages to move them away from my face.

I observe him, while bent on his knees, he scans my entire face with his wonderful blue eyes, perhaps searching for some flash of madness.

“That's ok” he murmurs.

I look down guiltily.

I feel embarrassed.

“I'm sorry” are the only words I can murmur while I try with all my strength to hold back the tears.

“Ya have nothing to be sorry about.Shane is a prick”

His words vibrate with anger, it's like he's trying to keep himself calm just so I don't lose my mind again.

Pulling away from his grip I get back to my feet.

Angry again.

But this time with myself.

My body trembles as I cross my arms over my chest.

I hate the idea of letting someone like Shane provoke me.

“It's ok, sunshine”

“Please Daryl!Can you…could you stop repeating that?”

Even though it wasn't my intention, the words come out in anger.

I can't stop them.

I can't stop.

“It's not ok!It is not!What Shane said…”

The words die in my throat.

I can't maintain eye contact with the man in front of me so I decide that maybe the best thing to do is look at the tip of my boots.

I can still hear Shane's voice echoing in my head.

I really do not belong here.

And then the allusions about me and Daryl.

I feel my face burning with shame.

“Since when do ya give importance to that idiot's words?” the archer asks me.

I close myself in my silence, continuing to keep my gaze lowered.

“Summer?”

His sweet plea is followed by his fingers which, with a light pressure on my chin, invites me to look up.

His eyes, shining like two mirrors of crystalline water, study my every little movement.

“Since when do ya care?” he asks again.

Do I really care what Shane thinks about me?

No, of course I don't give a damn what he says or thinks.

The real problem is that I care what other people think.

Because all I want is to be accepted for who I am, for how I am.

But there's more...

“I don't care but...but I care about what you think”

The corner of his lips lifts, a hint of a smirk.

“Ya know what I think”

Do I really know what he thinks?

What if he just saw the promise of some messing around in me?

Am I really so blinded by the hunger for love, by the desperate desire to feel accepted, that I don't understand who I really have in front of me?

Would Daryl really be capable of something like that?

But I just need to look at his face to understand that.

No, he's not like that.

His fingers still firm on my chin are delicate, gentle.

His fingers slowly move up my cheek, gently touching my cheekbone.

I close my eyes as a trembling sigh leaves my parted lips.

I know I can trust him.

On the heated skin of my face I feel Daryl's hands resting on my cheeks with disarming delicacy, his thumbs move back and forth caressing my sun-torn skin.

“Summer”

His breath crashes on my face with the power of a tsunami.

My knees tremble slightly and to support myself I grab his wrists, squeezing them with more force than would be humanly acceptable but he doesn't complain about it.

He gives me time to find the strength and put the pieces back together.

I slowly open my eyes again, aware of who is in front of me but totally unprepared for his proximity.

I don't think my heart will ever get used to him.

I breathe slowly trying to synchronize my breathing with him.

I succeed but as soon as he cracks a smile it's the end again...my heart starts racing all over again.

We remain still for moments that seem infinite.

The skin in contact with his touch seems to burn as if it were exposed to a living flame.

His eyes burn into mine with such intensity that I almost forget how to breathe.

I watch him as he inhales deeply and slowly lets me go.

He shakes his head, a barely perceptible movement, as if he's trying to free himself from some troublesome thought.

He turns his back on me, leaving me shaken and trembling.

My eyes remain focused on his back as he places the saddle on the horse and with an agile gesture mounts it.

Grabbing the reins, with a light touch of the heel on the animal's belly he encourages it to move closer to me.

“Be careful” I murmur with a dry mouth, my voice coming out in a trembling whisper.

His eyebrows raise in confusion and then without saying a word he reaches out his hand towards me.

“What?” I ask, not being able to understand what he wants from me.

"Ya come with me.Isn't that wha' you wanted?” he replies amused by the confusion on my face.

Does he really want me to go with him?

Even after what happened?

And the others?

Is Rick still okay with it?

I shift uncomfortably in place.

“I don't know if this is a good idea, Daryl” I murmur, bringing my index finger to my lips and nibbling at the tip.

Maybe it's best for me to stay here so I don't give Shane an excuse to pick on Daryl again.

The man shakes his head.

“Nope.No way.Ya will come with me.I won't leave ya here with Shane”

I shrug feigning indifference even though the thought of being alone with him scares me, all my courage seems to have evaporated completely.

But it is also true that Daryl cannot always be by my side and sooner or later I will have to clash with that man again.

“You can't protect me forever, you know that?” I say in defeat, accepting the hand he offers me but remaining still.

Wait a moment.

How the hell do I get on a horse?

“What's up now, pretty eyes?”

“How the hell am I supposed to get on this?” I ask laughing.

Daryl stares at me for a few moments, I'm unable to understand whether the situation irritates or amuses him and then...then for the first time I see him laugh.

Really laugh.

And my heart stops.

Literally.

If up until now I thought he was simply beautiful, now I have to change my mind.

Daryl laughing is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

His relaxed face, his eyes surrounded by many small wrinkles that I would kiss one by one.

“Ya such a city girl” he says, shaking his head with still a shadow of a smile on his lips.

“I'll take it as a compliment” I mutter trying to sound angry even though his cheerfulness infects me making me smile.

His grip around my fingers tightens.

“Put yer foot in the stirrup and give yourself a little push.I'll take care of the rest, okay?”

One moment.

In the position I am in I will find myself sitting in front of him.

I feel my face colouring with embarrassment.

“C'mon Summer”

“Yeah…I-I-I…ok” I stammer in response to his prodding.

I do as he tells me and after a moment I find myself astride the beautiful horse with Daryl behind me.

His broad chest presses against my back.

I feel a shiver run through my body.

I sink my hands into the soft mane trying to calm the frantic beating of my heart.

If I don't die at the hands of a damned walker I will certainly die because of my poor stressed heart.

Daryl's hands grab the reins and we finally set off.

We move away from the farm quickly, reaching the highest point from which we could have a better view of the area.

The slow and steady pace makes us sway so I try to stay as still as possible without rubbing too much against the archer's surprisingly welcoming body.

His breath on the back of my neck confuses my thoughts, often making me lose clarity.

His arms touch my hips in an almost hypnotic way.

So I try to focus all my thoughts on Sophia.

It's for her that I'm here.

I have to focus.

Everything seems calm around us.

No sign of walkers at the moment.

Only the rustling of leaves and the clatter of hooves on the ground.

I let my gaze wander everywhere trying to grasp even just the slightest detail that could lead us back to the little girl we are desperately looking for.

I snort impatiently.

"Wha' happens?"

Daryl's voice makes me jump.

I was so focused that for a moment I forgot who I was with.

“We've been wandering for a while now” I confess, letting defeat show in my voice.

“We just have to move forward.We'll find somethin'”

I nod at his words, returning to observe the river below us.

Suddenly my gaze is caught by a small object.

An object that shouldn't even be here.

“Daryl!Look!” I call him with an excited voice.

“Whoa” he exclaims.

The man pulls the reins towards himself, causing the horse's pace to stop.

“What?”

“Look over there!”

Here we are.

Maybe a clue.

I turn my head looking over my shoulder.

His gaze is focused on the point I am pointing to.

His head is tilted slightly to the side and his eyes are carefully scanning the bank of the river below and when he sees it too his eyes dilate in amazement.

“Shit!” he exclaims, immediately dismounting from the horse's back and grabbing a rope, tying it to the nearest tree.

“Let's go” he whispers, stretching his arms towards me to help me.

His hands grab my hips and I, holding on to his biceps, turn my torso in his direction, descending quickly.

His face grazes my breast as I descend, making me vibrate like a violin string.

I'm trying to regain some clarity, now is not the time to let myself be distracted like this.

Holding on to the trunks of the trees surrounding us, we quickly descend towards the river bank.

“Be careful” he murmurs and I nod in response.

Daryl is the first to reach our destination.

"What is this?" I ask reaching him and peeking from behind his arm.

Daryl leans forward, grabbing what appears to be a rag doll.

“Is it Sophia's?” I ask with a heart full of hope.

Please God let it be Sophia's.

The archer nods slightly, turning his face in my direction.

I can't help but smile brightly.

Thanks God!

Daryl looks around scanning the entire area.

I mimic his gestures.

“Sophia!” I scream followed immediately by him.

If she made it this far there's a big chance she's still alive.

Poor little girl, she will be terrified.

I think back to when I was alone, lost in these woods.

Instinctively my eyes fill with tears.

Behind me I hear Daryl's heavy footsteps approaching me.

“Let's go!She can't be far away” he says grabbing my hand.

Together we return to the horse and resume our search.

My heart beats wildly, the emotion of finally being so close to Sophia gives me a sweet sensation that I haven't felt for a long time.

Hope.

Birds squawk in front of us, making the horse nervous.

“Whoa.Easy, easy” Daryl gently hushes the horse.

I hold on tightly to the saddle to keep my balance.

“Sophia!” I call again but the little girl's name dies in my throat.

Suddenly the horse whinnies and fidgets nervously.

It seems that something has frightened the horse causing it to step back dangerously.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa” Daryl mutters under his breath as he grips and pulls the reins hard.

But in vain.

The horse rears up on its legs, throwing us violently.

Everything happens quickly.

Daryl falls, dragging me with him.

We both roll to the ground and fall down the cliff.

I can't understand anything.

All I feel is my head hitting something fucking hard.

On impact I bite my tongue between my teeth, blood filling my mouth as my vision blurs.

My fall stops and I find myself inside the river.

Wet and panting, I remain still, trying to catch my breath and waiting for my vision to return to normal.

Not far from me I can hear grunts of pain.

Daryl.

Slowly I get on all fours and with my vision still blurry I look for my partner.

I spit out the blood that continues to pour from my mouth, putting my hand to my forehead.

When I look at my fingers they are covered in blood.

Damn.

I'll think about it later.

Now I have to make sure Daryl is okay.

Trembling and scared I try to get back on my feet, my knees are shaking but I can't stop.

Not now.

A few steps away from me Daryl is dragging himself towards the riverbank.

He looks hurt.

The water around him is turning a worryingly intense crimson.

He is injured.

Suddenly I no longer feel any pain, any fear.

I'm only focused on him.

Every bit of my strength is concentrated in my muscles, thus finding the strength necessary to support the man.

Daryl lies on his back with his hands pressed to the left side of his body.

An arrow comes out of his side.

I feel panic crawling in my stomach but I force myself not to freak out, I can't let fear take over me.

I have to help him.

“Hey!Hey!Hey!” I cough, spitting out a few drops of blood.

My hands roam frantically over his face.

His features are contorted in a grimace of pain.

“It's going to be okay, Daryl.I'm here” I whine running a hand over his face.

The blood that continues to flow from the wound on my forehead prevents me from seeing clearly.

“Ya good?” the man pants, touching my wounded forehead with the tips of his fingers.

“Ya are bleeding”

I shake my head vigorously dismissing his concern for me.

“Forget about it.Now we have to think about getting out of this mess, okay?”

My voice trembles even though I forced myself to remain calm.

I must be strong.

I have to do it for him.

“You have already taken care of me.Now it's my turn to save your ass” I giggle through the tears.

I can't let anything happen to him.

Not to him.

Not Daryl.

I help him sit down again.

He's bleeding too much.

I take off my shirt, tearing off one end and tying the rest around my waist.

The tank top I'm wearing is soaked in water and the light breeze blowing on the riverbank makes me shiver.

“This is going to hurt” I warn him, wrapping the piece of cloth around his waist.

He nods, clenching his jaw and with all my strength I pull, knotting the fabric around his body.

Daryl hisses.

“I know, I know.I'm sorry”

Tears mix with blood.

“I'm so sorry” I repeat, sniffling.

Daryl brings a hand to my upper arm, squeezing it weakly.

“It's ok.Everythin' will be fine” he grunts trying to reassure me.

I nod energetically even as a sob violently shakes my chest.

Our gazes meet, linking each other.

“I know, I know” I whine.

My bloody hands cup his face and for no logical reason I place my lips on his.

It's a short contact.

Just a few moments.

His soft, wet lips are still against mine.

I pull his face away from me finding his eyes wide open.

“I won't let you die.I won't allow it” I state with absolute conviction.

I'll die trying if I have to.

Daryl won't die.

Even though my head is spinning I stand up again trying to think of a way to get us out of this mess.

We have to get back to the farm.

And quickly.

I grab a stick not far from my feet and bending down on my knees again I offer it to the archer.

“Ok, now you have to get back on your feet.Do you think you can do it?”

His blue eyes stare at me intently.

I know what he's thinking.

It's the same thought I'm trying to repress with all my strength.

The kiss.

Maybe I did it to console him.

Or maybe because I needed to be reassured.

Why the hell I did it, I don't even know...and I don't intend to think about it at the moment.

It was irrational, I know, but I couldn't contain myself.

With extreme caution Daryl grabs the stick and with my support he finally gets up.

I wrap my arm around his hips being careful not to touch the injured side.

A rustling in the bushes attracts our attention.

I try to sharpen my hearing to understand if it is a threat.

“Ma’ crossbow”

“I'll take care of it” I immediately interrupt him by letting go of my grip on him and immersing myself in the water.

The water's river laps my body up to my waist while I feel the bottom with my hands to find the weapon.

After a few minutes I feel the object of my search between my fingers and with great difficulty I bring it back to the shore.

This gives me proof of the unprecedented strength of this man.

This thing weighs a lot.

With a nod of my head I indicate the cliff, carefully and with considerable effort placing the crossbow on my back.

“We have to use the roots and trunks as handholds, okay?” I suggest staying at his side and paying every bit of attention to his movements.

Daryl seems to think about it for a few moments then nods.

Our heavy breaths accompany our every step.

I focus my attention on Daryl, on his pale face.

I am afraid.

With every grunt from him my heart skips a beat.

One step after another we reach the halfway point.

I'm a few steps ahead.

“Come on Daryl, we're halfway.Hold on" I pant, turning slightly towards him who stopped I think to catch his breath.

I watch him as with a big sigh he lifts himself up again, grabbing a root in his hands but suddenly his feet slip, losing his grip on the ground.

I watch him helplessly and horrified as he falls again.

No.

No, no, no.

Being careful not to slip, I also quickly go down, reaching him.

I kneel next to him, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

“Daryl!Daryl!” I shake him hard but his eyes don't open.

Shit!

I free myself from the weight of the crossbow by placing it next to his body and I place my ear on his chest, even if it is faint I can perceive his heartbeat.

I look around lost and scared.

I could go back to the farm to get help but the mere thought of leaving him alone and defenseless makes me shudder.

No.

I have to find another solution.

I look at his wound which, despite my clumsy bandaging, continues to bleed.

His eyes move quickly under his closed eyelids and distorted, slurred words that I can't make out come from his lips.

It's like he's talking to someone.

I have no other choice, the situation is getting worse by the minute.

I have to take out the arrow and bandage him up properly.

I take a deep breath and grab the arrow with both hands and start pulling with all my strength.

At first Daryl remains still but then his barely audible moans turn into an actual scream.

He wiggles his hands trying to push me away, I move backwards and away from his hands while continuing to pull.

I pull until the arrow comes out of his body with a sloppy pop, knocking me onto my back in the water.

Daryl complains, coughing violently, and when I lift my head to make sure he's okay I see a walker coming towards us.

I try to grab my knife but immediately remember I don't have it with me.

It must have remained in Daryl's possession after he slipped it out of my hand back at the farm.

The archer is still lying on the ground so I'll have to take care of it.

I sit up, with slow and uncoordinated movements I grab a sharp stone and wait for him to come closer.

The walker limps closer until he reaches my feet where he bends forward to try to grab my ankle.

I bend my knee towards my chest and with all my strength I drive the sole of my boot into the center of his chest sending him to the ground.

Quickly I get up and position myself astride him, I hit him straight in the head with the stone I had found shortly before.

I hit him until his skull cracks under my fury.

I pant heavily as I drop my improvised weapon but a moment later something falls on me.

I find myself immersed in the water with another walker's jaw a few inches from my face.

I didn't even hear him coming.

I put my arm between us, pressing it against his throat, keeping him from reaching my face.

His breath, which smells of death, makes me retch a little.

His face is grey, one of his eye sockets is empty revealing his putrid interior to me.

His teeth click convulsively as he bites the air waiting to grasp my flesh.

I have nothing to defend myself with.

If I let go of him I'll end up getting bitten.

My arms begin to give out, I feel my strength fading.

I try desperately to push him away by pressing my head back to avoid his rotten teeth.

Then a hiss cutting the air and the tip of an arrow coming out of the walker's forehead.

His rotten body falls heavy onto mine finally giving me the chance to push him and roll away.

I find myself on all fours when two hands grab me by the shoulders.

I struggle screaming until I hear his voice.

“It's me.It's me.It's over” Daryl gasps as he helps me up.

Instinctively I hug him, burying my head in his chest.

His hands caress my back reassuringly.

“Ya good?” he asks me worried.

In response I nod, rubbing my face on his broad chest, losing myself in the warmth of his embrace.

Daryl grabs me by the shoulders, moving me away from his body, his hands lift to my face, wandering over it, brushing my hair aside and then moving down towards my arms, perhaps looking for some wound or bite.

“How are you?I'm sorry about the arrow” I whisper, feeling guilty for causing him more pain by removing the arrow from his body.

"It's a bolt. Not an arrow” he smiles weakly.

I grab his hands, thus interrupting his search all over my body.

He looks horrible, even though he is covered in blood and mud, the paleness on his face is too visible.

We need to find help.

I grab what's left of my shirt and make another bandage for his wound, then I grab his crossbow again and place it on my back.

He is too weak and I can't let him waste his strength.

Daryl's eyes don't leave me even for a moment, following my every gesture.

“Let's go” I tell him softly, wrapping my arm around his waist again and putting his weight on my side.

Slowly we start climbing the cliff again until we reach the top sweaty and exhausted.

“Rest for a moment” I pant, resting my shoulder against a tree without ever letting go of my grip on him.

“Why didn't ya leave me here?Ya could have run away”

My head snapped in his direction so violently that for a moment I thought my neck might break.

Daryl looks down.

I snort impatiently looking at the beautiful profile of the archer.

His eyes immediately find mine, intrigued by my reaction.

“I will take you to the farm even if it is the last thing I do in my life”

“Why?”

“Don't be ridiculous, please.Now save your breath and move your ass.We have a long journey ahead of us"

I smile at him trying to reassure him.

Why the hell does he think these things?

Does he really think I could ever leave him here to die?

In silence and with a shuffling step we start to walk.

“Thanks” Daryl murmurs after a while.

I smile shaking my head.

“You don't have to thank me for anything.I...I care about you.And I'll have your back forever.I want you to know this”

Embarrassed I look for his gaze.

His eyes, the same shade as the summer sky, stare at me in disbelief.

I feel the urgent need to reassure him.

It's absurd that a rough and brave man like him needs reassurance.

“I'm deadly serious.I always have your back”

Daryl nods as if he's fighting his own mind.

“I will always have yer back too, pretty eyes”

I raise a corner of my lips trying to contain the explosion of joy that his words bring to me.

The sun is behind us when in the distance we can make out the outlines of the farm.

I'm so happy I could cry.

I am tired.

My head is pounding.

The crossbow strap cuts into the skin of my neck.

And as much as Daryl tries not to weigh too much on me, I can barely hold him up anymore.

Dragging ourselves for the last steps we see someone running towards us.

Thank God!

Finally someone who can help us.

“Hold on Daryl” I reassure him, tightening my grip around his waist and putting his weight on my hip once again.

The archer grunts, his head almost lolling on his chest and Sophia's doll clutched in one hand.

I didn't even realize he still had it until we got back on the trail.

The first to reach us is Rick, followed by Shane, T-dog and Glenn.

I suddenly stop walking, struck by the officer's weird gesture.

I let go of Daryl and stand protectively in front of his body.

Rick is pointing his gun at us.

“They're Daryl and Summer” Glenn exclaims.

His eyes scan me from head to toe, a worried frown creases his gentle face.

Daryl raises an arm, pointing a finger at Rick.

“That's the third time ya've pointed tha' thin' at my head.Ya gonna pull the trigger or wha'?”

Rick lowers his gun with a half smile on his face as everyone else relaxes.

Glenn rests his hands on his knees sighing in relief.

We exchange a smile.

I turn away from the others to reach Daryl's side and help him take the last steps towards our safety.

But all of a sudden something hits me.

A searing pain takes my breath away, causing me to collapse to my knees.

It's like a deja vu.

Me arriving at the farm, kneeling in front of Daryl.

I put my hand to my right collarbone and when I look down all I see is blood.

Behind me I hear the confused shouts of Rick and Glenn.

I look up in front of me away from all that blood.

The first thing I see is Daryl's face.

His big blue eyes are wide and full of horror.

“Daryl”

Mine is a strangled whisper.

In my head I see everything going in slow motion.

The blood.

Daryl's eyes.

And then the pain.

A pain so fierce that it forced me onto all fours.

When I open my eyes again I am lying on the ground and my head lies on the archer's lap.

His arms hold me against his body.

“Stay with me, sunshine.Stay with me”

His voice is full of panic.

I would like to talk.

Tell him something.

Tell him I would do anything in the world to stay here with him.

I am also willing to fight against this pain that takes my breath away.

But the words don't come out.

I look up and Shane's face is right in front of mine, his arms are stretched out towards me as if he wants to take me into his arms.

I know he has no bad intentions but I squirm impercelessly.

Daryl tightens his grip on me, pushing Shane away roughly.

“Don't fuckin' touch her” he shouts with anger.

Shane raises his hands in front of him in surrender, looking worriedly over his shoulder.

I feel like I'm about to lose consciousness.

“Daryl” I murmur scared.

Rick approaches us.

“Brother you have to let her go.I'll take care of her.We need to get her to Hersel right away.Trust me” the former officer speaks slowly without however managing to hide his agitated look.

Daryl nods slightly as he loosens his grip on my body.

Rick scoops me in his arms.

Other voices add to the chaos around me but now I can no longer understand who them belong to.

I only hear Rick's voice whispering encouraging words in my ear.

“Hold on Summer.Please.Please don't die”

And then the darkness.

Please share, comment and rate ❤️

🔥 Masterlist 🔥

Taglist

@deansapplepie @celtic-crossbow

#daryl dixon #daryl #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl smut #daryl x oc #normanreedus #norman reedus #norman reedus smut #norman reedus fanfiction #twd fanfiction #twd fic #twd family #twd fandom #twd #the walking dead #built for this world #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction recommendation #daryl dixon fanfiction #darylfanfiction #darylfanfic

[orangeboulevard]

The Comforts I Find In Your Shadows

(Rick x Gojo, Gojo x Aragorn, Aragorn x Rick)

I can't even say I was double dog dared to do this because I wasn't. Also I haven't watched jjk I watched one video of Gojo for this amazing opportunity.

Words: 842

In a world ravaged by the undead, Rick Grimes had learnt that good things don't often come by but when they do, you better hold onto them.

Gojo Satoru was his good thing. Gojo was his best friend, his support through the hard times -when they were starving and dehydrated, burning under the summer sun, when Lori died and when they were being threatened and attacked by The Governor.-, he had saved his life countless amounts of times back when Rick was still a naive and wide-eyed sheriff from Atlanta and he was what was keeping him up in the dead of night. Those blue eyes stirred hot feelings in his lower abdomen, they were in his mind when he was gasping and whimpering, they were in his mind when he felt disgusted with himself afterwards.

He shook himself from his thoughts, they served him no purpose besides conjuring painful feelings of want and desire in his chest, and clambered out of bed, he was due for patrol around the perimeter of Alexandria in about twenty minutes which left him with just enough time to brush his teeth, change his clothes and grab a bite to eat before leaving the house. He rubbed at the stumble that was starting to break on his jaw as he breathed in the fresh air, this was something he had missed and would never take for granted again- waking up to a beautiful neighbourhood and feeling somewhat secure.

He greeted the few people that were awake and about their business at the early hours of the morning, one of these such people was Aragorn. Rick offered a friendly smile that was met with a respectable nod. Aragorn.... Aragorn was a tricky subject to approach, the poor man did not speak English nor any other language the residents of Alexandria spoke.

His steely grey eyes were aged by years beyond him, Rick guessed that they were around the same age- late thirties, early forties-. His rugged countenance was emphasised by his choices of clothing, archaic looking trousers and shirts- when he'd first arrived, he was wearing a cloak, an actual cloak. Rick figured that either when the apocalypse had started, Aragorn had been at a fancy dress party or Aragorn was some sort of LARPer, it made some certain degree of sense, the man did bear a sword on his hip at all times and his mannerisms were entirely bizzare- it may just be a mental disorder, however.

Rick found himself forced from his musings by a gentle touch against his lips, he flinched back as his eyebrows raised in shock and confusion. Aragorn was holding a strawberry to his lips with an expectant look. Rick couldn't help but break out in a smile, sure the man was... odd but he was sweet and he took his job as a gardener in Alexandria very seriously. Rick closed his lips around the strawberry as he took a bite, he missed the way Aragorn flushed and had to look off to the side.

Rick's eyes closed and he let out an involuntary sound of satisfaction, it had been too long since he'd savoured the sweet taste of a strawberry- another good thing he'd better hold onto. He opened his eyes to see Aragorn gazing at the ground beside him, Rick offered him the last of the strawberry and tried to convey how good it was with his bright grin. Aragorn pushed Rick's hand towards his mouth, taking the rest of the small fruit. Aragorn let a small smile paint his features, making him look a lot younger than he did normally.

Rick patted the man's shoulder before continuing on his journey to Alexandria's gate, he missed the way Aragorn's disappointed gaze followed his shrinking figure.

Gojo was there to greet him at the gate and Rick hoped to God his best friend couldn't hear how his heart sped up at the sight of him, the traitorous creature that it was.

"Rick! My student, there you are! I was starting to wonder if I'd somehow been scheduled for a double shit," Gojo joked as he ran a hand through his platinum locks, his eyes locked onto Rick's own behind his dark shades.

"Ahah, sorry, got caught up back there by Aragorn. Didja' see? He's got some strawberry plants goin' on, real ripe," he swallowed, why did every word seem to stick to his gullet and refuse to come out?

"Aragorn?" Gojo's voice became slightly higher, "No way! I gotta get some of those."

"Uh, yeah but befo-"

"Sorry, Rick, I'm just gonna go see Aragorn, I'll see ya later, buddy," Gojo playfully punched Rick's shoulder and Rick just grinned and nodded, hoping his disappointment wasn't too evident on his face.

Rick sighed as Gojo practically skipped off, he decided to concentrate on the task at hand: boring, monotonous walking around the whole of Alexandria.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #fanfic #fanfition #one shot #humor #pure crack #crack fic #crackship #the walking dead #rick grimes #alexandria #aragorn #lotr #gay men #gay #the devils works hard #but im harder

[kuekyuuq]

Things the SG/SC fandom agrees on for fanfics...

...although they are not canon established / were only mentioned once / go against canon, but because canon screwed things up we chose to ignore it 🤷

Jess, the assistant (is awesome) [not to be confused with traitorous Alana from 02x15!]

Lena loves kale as much as Kara loves potstickers

Kara is on a mission to fatten Lena up 

Kara can't cook

(C'mon, that was one time! Her pancakes turned out alright!)

Lena is Irish 🍀

Lena is a witch / has magic powers (is on this list due to the many fics that included this long before season six! May have been due to Katie's role as Morgana on Merlin, tho.)

"Lee" and "Kar" (...why though _X_ ?😢 )

Lena calling Kara "darling" (which stems from Katie calling all her friends all sorts of endearing terms)

Kara DOES use her superpowers in her day-to-day life (and constantly - great applications have been come up with!)

Where Kara hid her boots before she got the nanotech-supersuit will always be treated as a mystery.

Lena’s childhood teddy bear Miss Pizzly (somehow) returns 

Kara memorized Lena's heartbeat (and can tune in on it from great distances) like or even better than Alex’ / within them meeting once 🧏💓

If Kara and Lena have a child / children, there's a 85% chance, they will name them something starting with an L or something that can be abbreviated to start with an L (even if Lena might wanna break with traditions from a family she tries to distance herself from? Lena had a daughter named Lori in the New Earth comics, but really anything with an L seems to be fair game - Why not Irish names?)

Pancakes make the best breakfast (counts for any ship, apparently)

Kara is a morning person 🌞, Lena... is not 😫☕☕☕

Lena does (initially) not want children / is afraid to be a good mother

Alex (and Maggie) bet on anything and everything 💵

Alex gets / acts traumatized / scarred for life by any and all mentions of Kara's sex-life

Agent Susan Vasquez is gay 🌈

(I am 90% sure the caption is not canon, but... if the shoe fits...)

Nia is totally chill in (steamy) Supercorp situations (leaning back and eating popcorn) and totally ships them 🍿

Lena's (loyal) driver, Frank 

This list does not claim to be complete nor exclusive.  Feel free to add and expand if something else caught your attention. 

Fandom is fun 😊

#supercorp #fandom #fanfics #supergirl #Kue doing Kue-things #fandom fun #none of the pics or gifs are mine #kudos to all authors #fixing canon #list #fun

[humanitysstrongestsoldier1]

𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 |𝑅𝐼𝐶𝐻𝐴𝑅𝐿𝐼𝑆𝑂𝑁 𝑑𝑒 𝐴𝑁𝐷𝑅𝐴𝐷𝐸 x Reader

TW: Sexual Content, Cursing

AO3 LINK!!!

~~~~

Summary:

Richarlison de Andrade is a kind person who genuinely cares about his team! Nothing gets on his nerves or provokes his hidden rage. All but his personal manager and interpreter. Richarlison is managed by Y/N, a former professional badminton player. She has a... distinct personality. Even though she is not a football player herself, she frequently criticizes Richarlison and offers him advice on how to play. But eventually, Richarlison is fed up with her criticism and lets out his rage.

It seems Y/N is going to have to manage his anger now.

~~~~~~~

Notes:

idek why tf im writing this, i hope none of my football loving friends and fam find this, im gonna go hide now😭

I'm an Gunners (arsenal) fan so i felt like a traitor writing this, ur welcome you anon requester, i disregarded my morals for u

NORTH LONDON IS FUCKING RED GET THAT SHIT INSIDE YOUR HEAD

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The raucous screams of Spurs Home fans died away. Arsenal had won the North London Derby 3-1 once more. The Gunners' and their fans' loud applause only added to the pressure on Richarlison, who has yet to score for the Spurs.

Y/N L/N stood on the sidelines, shaking her head. She disliked playing on a team because it required her to interact with others. Y/N was a former professional badminton player with the most powerful smashes and drops in the game. A year ago, she retired and focused more on "helping" other players. She had to get used to the warmth and kindness of a team since she had never been on one.

Y/N had to admit that Arsenal this season was bloodthirsty for victory, and their passion was stronger than any other EPL team. She followed Richarlison, Sonny, Harry K., Hugo Loris, and the other players into the changing room.

"Fucking hell! That was incredibly embarrassing!" The manager, Antonio Conte, yelled as he paced around the room. "How could we have allowed that to happen? It's a disappointment for our home fans as well as for London. I'm not heading to training tomorrow; I need a break from this bullshit! Come to training if you want, but I doubt you will because it appears that your training has been doing shitswork!"

Antonio Conte stormed out of the room, leaving a tense atmosphere in his wake. Y/N turned to face Richarlison, who had tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Richie, hurry up and take a shower; we need to speak about something." Y/N spoke while her arms were crossed across her chest.

Without missing a beat, Richarlison exited the locker room to freshen up.

"You shouldn’t be too rough on him." Sonny said while walking up to her.

"It's the only way he'll learn, and the only way he'll understand how cruel the EPL can be," Y/N said before heading to the garage to retrieve the car.

(In the car)

"Your passes were too conspicuous, and you were moving slowly; it took Ødegaard less than a minute to catch up to what you were doing." Y/N spoke while paying attention to the road.

Richarlison, who is used to receiving criticism, responds, "What would you know? The last time I remember, badminton never used a ball or had an exhausting effect after playing."

Y/N’s eyebrows scrunched: "Do not speak of my sport with such disgrace; you do not understand how fast you have to be on the field and how fast the shuttlecock is. And unlike you, I would actually score.”

Richarlison sighed and slumped into the seat while looking out of the car into the streets of North London.

(Y/N's office, at players compound)

Y/N opened the glass door to her office and dropped the folders and keys on the desk while Richarlison waited for her speech as always. Y/N turned around and folded her arms while leaning on the desk.

"That was shit Richie. You’ve been with the Spurs for almost 2-3 months now and haven’t even scored one goal! Your passes are shit, you tire out too fast because of your damn height, you have no coordination with Sonny, and half the time you look lost in your own head!" Y/N harshly judged.

"I know, I've been trying, but it doesn't seem to work," Richarlison said, his eyes glazing over. "This team is different; it's too much."

"Then try harder or give up. It's not the team, it's you," Y/N abruptly cut him off. "Make no excuses for actions you know you're committing. Kane was ready for the ball, and so was Sonny! You were just too arrogant to try and prove yourself."

Richarlison sighed before responding, "It’s not like that you don’t understand-"

"Oh, but I do! I know what it feels like to thirst for validation. To try and prove that you are the best. Badminton players don’t have teams, so they strive to beat their opponents. That’s what makes them dangerous and ambitious. But you, oh you, are just arrogant and believe you can beat Sonny, so you try and fail over and over and over again." Y/N expresses her growing anger.

Something shifted in Richarlison’s stance and aura. "No. You’re the one failing. You retired not because you had accomplished your goal but because you were lonely. So you decided to find a team. A team where you can feel loved."

Y/N scoffed, "Keep telling yourself that. Without me, you would be nowhere. Without me, your voice would be nothing."

Richarlison took slow steps towards her; his anger was finally emerging. "No. Without me, you would be lying in a pit of your own tears, with nothing but yourself. Alone and broken." Richarlison was very close to her face now, and his eyes showed nothing but rage. "Your sister is all the way across countries saving lives in the OR; your parents are 6 feet under the ground and dead."

"Richarlison, watch your mouth!" Y/N screamed in his face.

"Keep your voice down. Word here spreads fast, darling." Richarlison said while placing his hand over her mouth.

Y/N’s eyebrows scrunched up, and she pushed him off of her. "You asshole! You are nothing to me. How dare you speak of my family in that way! I swear I-"

With his large hand wrapped around her throat, Richarlison spun her around in less than a second and slammed her into the wall. He was breathing heavily, and his eyes were locked on hers. His lips were so dangerously close to hers that one might think it was an attempt at a kiss, but in reality, it was a release of anger.

"I am tired of your critics. Your harsh words cut too deep, Y/N," Richarlison muttered.

Y/N smirked and kept her gaze on his. "Good. The deeper it cuts, the more you learn."

"No, it’s the more I get angry. You have made me hold this rage for so long, princess. I’m ready to let it out."

"You’re pathetic, Richarlison. And so are your abilities; you'll never be as good as the team, and you'll never fit in. I can promise-"

Before Y/N could finish her sentence, Richarlison’s lips roughly smashed on hers, and Y/N’s breath hitched. She didn’t kiss back, so Richarlison pulled her body closer to his. She fell into his warm embrace, and her lips molded with his. Richarlison’s hand, which was previously wrapped around her throat, moved to her waist.

"Be quiet. Not a word from you." He growled out.

His lips moved across her neck, leaving marks all around. Her top had a straight zipper in the front, so he clamped around the zip and dragged it down to her belly button. He continued the attack on her chest and bit the top of her breast. Y/N couldn’t help but release a groan from her mouth, which made her place her hand over her own mouth.

"Move your hand. I want to hear you." Richarlison spoke against her skin; it wasn’t a request, it was an order. And so she obeyed.

His lips dangerously moved lower and lower while Y/N just went along with him. Her short pencil skirt was riding up, showing her thighs off to him. Richarlison released a small, agonizing breath, and not a second later, he ripped off her panties and threw them to the floor. Y/N kicked her heels off and wrapped her arms around his neck as he moved up her body. Once again, his warm lips met hers, and they moved in harmony with hers. He propped her legs around his waist and carried her over to the desk. With one of his arms, he knocked over everything on her desk with one swipe and placed her on it. Through all of this, his lips never left hers until Y/N broke apart for a second.

"I hate you," whispered Y/N with a breathy voice.

"Oh yeah? Good. I’m gonna change that for you, love," Richarlison muttered against her lips.

He moved down to her legs and kneeled in front of her. He looked up at her and smirked at her lust-filled eyes. Y/N smirked and said, "Look at you. Down on your knees for me. How disgraceful."

Richarlison just chuckled before saying, "The only thing that will be disgraceful are the noises that will come out of your mouth when I fuck you."

Y/N’s eyes widened as his hand moved to the underside of her left knee and pushed her leg back. His face met her thick thighs, which were cold due to the air conditioning. The warmth of his cheeks pressed into her thighs.

Richarlison hummed before placing his lips on her inner thigh. "I’m going to love having these wrapped around my face."

His tongue met the juices seeping out from her cunt and spelt his name out. This action made Y/N undone. Her hand tangled in his short hair as he explored her. He pushed in and out of her with his warm tongue, and that’s when she lost it. Y/N gasped, "Richie, fuck! Right there, baby, mm, good boy."

Richarlison paused for a split second, looked at her, and said, "Say that again, princess."

"Say what?" Y/N spoke agitatedly.

"Call me a good boy again."

"Good boy, make me feel good?" Y/N asked, tilting her head.

That broke Richarlison and he continued his attack on her supple flesh between her thighs. His fingers made their way over, and he easily slipped his ring and middle finger inside of her. Y/N moaned at his action and tried to hold herself together so the staff wouldn’t suspect anything. This was dangerous for both of them and their careers. But at this point, they needed to release all of that pent-up rage boiling inside of them. And what better way to do so than with hate sex?

"Im going to make you reach ecstasy so much you will beg for me to stop. This is my revenge. I’m not going to give you the real deal until you beg for it, princess." Richarlison states as he pauses for a quick second, continuing on the moment he’s done speaking.

His tongue never stops moving, rubbing and circling around her clit, stroking her cunt's lips like a hungry predator on the hunt. Y/N's grip on his shoulder tightens as she desperately pumps her hips against his tongue, whining for more. As he made her cum in such an unusual way, Y/N dug her nails into his tanned flesh. She began to rock against his mouth; the knot in her stomach tightened, and his right hand gripped her hip. "That's it, pretty girl, let go for me," he said, his voice heavy and slightly hoarse, after pulling away from her flesh. One more thrust from his fingers, and she was coming undone.

"Richie, oh fuck, oh my god," Y/N moaned, trying to keep quiet.

Richarlison got up off of his knees and grabbed the back of her head, pushing his lips against hers harshly. He pulls away and says, "I’m not done with you yet. Let’s pray that no one is outside, because I’m going to make you scream bloody murder."

He lets go of her, picks her up, and throws her over his shoulder in a swift movement.

"Richie, if someone sees us, we are fucked," Y/N said frantically.

"That’s their problem, not mine; you caused this, remember that. So you are going to manage my anger," Richarlison replies as he opens the door to her office.

Every action has an equal and opposite reaction, according to Sir Isaac Newton. But the consequences of Y/N’s actions were more than equal. The consequence wasn’t painful; it was heavenly and torturous at the same time. Y/N had a job, and that job was to manage every need Richarlison de Andrade had, and this time it was his anger she would need to manage. And so she would, regardless of the cost.

#world cup #richarlison #richarlison x reader #richarlison imagine #premier league #tottenham hotspur #spurs #hotspurs

[bravelittleflower]

"No one ever told you what path you have to take when you choose to become a marine and then a traitor. No one is going to tell you now," said Sabo his eyes fierce. "So which is it Monkey D. Lori, a pirate or a revolutionary?"

Tag list: @raging-violets , @foxesandmagic   , @dreamerwithapen1 ,  @arrthurpendragon , @harleyquinnzelz , @anotherunreadblog , @curious-kittens-ocs ,  @richitozier , @endless-oc-creations , @noratilney @fragilestorm

@jvstjewels @drbobbimorse @akabluekat @tessasocs @starcrossedjedis @that-demigirl

@bisexualterror

#oc: monkey d. lori #fic: honey and glass #one piece live action #allaboutocs #ocappreciation #toalltheocsilovedbefore

[enkisstories]

For the time being Gavin found refuge at Karlie's farm, where the resistance member lived with her husband and three daughters. Their contribution to the resistance consisted mostly of supplying the actual rebel camps with groceries.

Karlie and Lori had in the past assisted in small skirmishes and infiltration missions (like the one at the governor's residence, that had gone wrong), but Jaylen wasn't a fighter at all.

Had the Keye family harbored some residual doubt about the sincerity of a favored servant of the Governor of all people turning traitor, they changed their mind the instant Gavin's new outfit revealed the double triangle tatoo, that was widely understood as the mark of a slave.

Of the two horses Gavin had brought, one was agreed to remain at the farm.

Abbey: "Look, what a majestic horse! So much dung for the fields!"

Lori: "Yeah, totally exciting... Let's call him Sir Crapalot."

Abbey: "It's a lady horse and she already has a name: Bonny."

#sims4journeytobatuu #simblr #battleforbatuu1

[garden-of-blue-sky]

Main Characters!

Nia (he/they)

Flower association: Zinnia

With no past to his name, Nia has worked for the Obsidian for a long time. He’s seen and done things he never wanted to, and wishes to never experience ever again. He does have one friend in this nightmare of an organization, however: Lori. They started work for the Obsidian around the same age and time, and have worked together ever since. They talk every night, leaving their worries behind for at least that short time. Nothing lasts forever, though, and eventually it becomes too much. Nia fled the Obsidian, knowing very well that fleeing meant being branded a traitor, and a traitor caught is a person dead. At least he still has his dear friend Lori with him… right?

Jas (they/them)

Flower association: Jasmine

Jas has been trapped in the same place for a long time, forever remaining there as an experiment to their father. When they are not being tested on, they are escaping into dreams. Dreams where they can live lives and see worlds that they would never find in the cold, unfeeling world they lived in. The experiments themselves gave them a mysterious power of control over the elements. A power that hurts to wield, and that they may never truly understand the nature of. They feel no love or attachment to their father, and revel in their first chance at freedom. The real question is if they ever truly found it.

Astra (she/her)

Flower association: Alstroemeria

Astra and her sister had lived with their mother for years, until one day, she was mysteriously murdered, her research stolen. Since that day, Astra raised her little sister Meria, and took work as a mercenary to make any money she could. Until one day, when she came home from a job to find her sister was nowhere to be found. All that was left was a note listing a simple demand: Bring Jas Arbor to the address listed.

Chrys (they/it)

Flower association: Chrysanthemum

Created to fill the shoes of a person who could no longer exist in this world, Chrys works for their mother in the Order. Their mother, the director, despises them. They are not her, they could never be her. She was gone. But perhaps the director was not willing to accept that, constantly criticizing Chrys as a person, and their work especially. They wanted to make the workplace safer, but safety does not equate to efficiency. They did not feel sympathy for those who were hurt by the systems in place, but they could not bear the voice in their head telling them it was their fault. So they left the Order one day, vowing to find themself along the way. Who are they if not who they are supposed to be?

Myos (any/all)

Flower association: Forget-me-not

Myos and their best friend had always looked up to this famous magician, said friend’s father. He was a master of his talents. Until one day, their friend went missing in a stage incident, and his father was arrested and convicted of it. They never forgot, and they strive to help the old man in any way possible. So, Myos took to working with the Firefly, taking a side job as a magician simultaneously. In doing so they met a man who would alter the course of their life forever. Whether it was altered for the better, or for the worse, is known only by time.

One day, they might find that place where the sky is blue, and they can rest with both eyes closed.

#🏙️ lore dump

[yugiohcardsdaily]

Posted Cards Master Post - 36

April 2022

Hiita the Fire Charmer

Fox Fire

Blazing Hiita

Familiar-Possessed - Hiita

Inari Fire

Hiita the Fire Charmer, Ablaze

Awakening of the Possessed - Greater Inari Fire

Spiritual Fire Art - Kurenai

Eria the Water Charmer

Gigobyte

Raging Eria

Familiar-Possesed - Eria

Gagagigo

Giga Gagagigo

Gogiga Gagagigo

Jigabyte

Gagagigo the Risen

Eria the Water Charmer, Gentle

Awakening of the Possessed - Gagigobyte

Spiritual Water Art - Aoi

Wynn the Wind Charmer

Petit Dragon

Storming Wynn

Familiar-Possessed - Wynn

Ranryu

Wynn the Wind Charmer, Verdant

Awakening of the Possessed - Rasenryu

Spiritual Wind Art - Miyabi

Wynn the Wind Channeler

Blessings for Gusto

Caam, Serenity of Gusto

Contact with Gusto

Daigusto Eguls

Daigusto Emeral

Daigusto Falcos

Daigusto Gulldos

Daigusto Laplampilica

Daigusto Phoenix

Daigusto Sphreez

Dust Storm of Gusto

Gusto Codor

Gusto Egul

Gusto Falco

Gusto Griffin

Gusto Gulldo

Gusto Squirro

Gusto Thunbolt

Gusto Vedir

Kamui, Hope of Gusto

Musto, Oracle of Gusto

Pilica, Descendant of Gusto

Reeze, Whirlwind of Gusto

Tailwind of Gusto

Whirlwind of Gusto

Winda, Priestess of Gusto

Windaar, Sage of Gusto

King Beast Barbaros

Witch's Apprentice

Backup Operator

Backup Secretary

Backup Supervisor

Wee Witch's Apprentice

Cheepcheepcheep

Cockadoodledoo

Hoshiningen

Hip Hoshiningen

Star Power!!

Link Party

Last Day of Witch

Effect Veiler 

No cards were posted in May 2022.

June 2022

Alice, Lady of Lament

Malice, Lady of Lament

Loris, Lady of Lament (Japanese)

Lilith, Lady of Lament

Armory Call

Protector of The Agents - Moon

Blue-Eyes Jet Dragon

Blue-Eyes Tyrant Dragon

Branded Disciple 

Breath of Resurrection

Castel, the Skyblaster Musketeer

Chaos Nephthys

Clear New World

Dark Contract with Patent License

Dark Dimension Soldier 

Darton the Mechanical Monstrosity

D/D Gryphon

D/D/D Deviser King Deus Machinex

D/D/D Headhunt

Dictator of D.

Dimension Conjurer

Dinomorphia Alert

Dinomorphia Brute

Dinomorphia Diplos

Dinomorphia Domain 

Dinomorphia Kentregina

Dinomorphia Reversion 

Dinomorphia Shell 

Dinomorphia Sonic

Dinomorphia Stealthbergia

Dinomorphia Therizia

Dogmatikamacabre 

Doll Happiness

Doll Monster Bear-Bear

Doll Monster Miss Mädchen

Box of Friends 

Doll House

Grandpa Demetto

Princess Cologne 

Transcicada 

Dracoback, the Rideable Dragon

Dragonbite

Dunnell, the Noble Arms of Light

Emergency Teleport

End of the Line

Epigonen, the Impersonation Invader

Epsilon The Magnet Warrior

Fateful Adventure

Fire Opal Head

Flowerdino 

Forest of Lost Flowers

Ghostrick Festival

Ghostrick or Treat

Ghostrick Shot

Ghostrick Siren

Gokipole

Groza, Tyrant of Thunder

Guardian Chimera

Hidden Armory

Illegal Knight

Illusion of Chaos

Imprudent Intrusion

Insect Imitation

Kaiza the Hidden Star

Leafplace Plaice

Libromancer Agent

Libromancer Doombroker

Libromancer Firestarter

Libromancer First Appearance

Libromancer Geek Boy

Libromancer Intervention

Libromancer Magigirl

Mad Hacker

Magicore Warrior of the Relics

Maple Maiden

Master of Chaos

Monster Rebirth

Myutant Mutant

Neiroy, the Dream Mirror Traitor

Nordic Beast Gullinbursti

Nordic Relic Hlidskjalf

Nordic Relic Svalinn

Nordic Smith Ivaldi

Nowru Aries the Vernal Dragon

Onibimaru Soul Sweeper

Psychic Tracker

Psychic Wheeleder

Risebell the Star Adjuster

Risebell the Star Psycher

Risebell the Summoner

Saambell the Star Bonder

Saambell the Summoner

Rite of Aramesir

Rock Scales

Sales Ban

S-Force Lapcewell

S-Force Retroactive

Shining Piecephilia

Silvervine Senri

Simorgh, Bird of Perfection

Skilled Brown Magician

Smile Potion

Smoke Moquito

Sol and Luna

Starlit Papillon

Submareed Tour Ride

Swordsoul Sinister Sovereign - Qixing Longyuan

Swordsoul Strife

The Great Double Casted Caster·

The Zombie Vampire

Thunder Discharge

Timaeus the United Dragon

Top Share

Torrential Tribute

Trancefamiliar

Tribe Drive

Ultimate Fusion

Unending Nightmare

Unwavering Bond

Uradora of Fate

Vampire Fascinator

Vampire Ghost

Virtual World Hime - Nyannyan

Vision with Eyes of Blue

Wandering Gryphon Rider

Water Enchantress of the Temple

White Relic of Dogmatika

XYZ Combine

Xyz Universe

Zaralaam the Dark Palace

Zektrike Kou-ou

Gagaku-P.U.N.K. Crash Beat

Gagaku-P.U.N.K. Wagon

Gagaku-P.U.N.K. Wild Picking

Joruri-P.U.N.K. Dangerous Gabu

Joruri-P.U.N.K. Madame Spider

Joruri-P.U.N.K. Nashiwari Surprise

Noh-P.U.N.K. Deer Note

Noh-P.U.N.K. Foxy Tune

#not duel monsters #april 2022 #ygo cd posted list #long post // #may 2022 #june 2022

[alyssaforevermore]

Unearthed ↦ Daryl Dixon season two, part four

Synopsis: Based on the events of The Walking Dead television series, Y/N Grimes, younger sister of Rick Grimes, attempts to survive in a world now inhabited by walkers. Family has always meant everything to her, but in this new world, can she keep her family safe and together?

Show: The Walking Dead (S1-S11)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Warnings: coarse language, violence, character deaths, drug and alcohol references, series spoilers and general The Walking Dead content warnings!

Tags: @1ivinqdeadqir1 @callmeyn @thegeorgiahuntsman @mellxander1993 @bigbaldheadname @cjmonsterwolf @abbi23323 @actuallyklee @lanxsee @livingdeadblondequeen @sweetz1919 @moonmark98 @sarahbaker2010 @ririi-3 @ryoujoking @hayley1998 @crazyunsexycool @gabriella-aesthetic @dixons-sunshine @strqwbrina @beardedstudentsuit (if you've requested a tag and aren't here, I sadly can't tag you)

Masterlist

Morning came quickly, despite your mostly sleepless night. You’d been in and out on the rocking chair on the porch, every small sound shaking you awake. When a few of the others had gone off to collect stones for Otis’ funeral, you’d wasted no time in joining them. It wasn’t long before you spotted Daryl and the others arriving. You all met up at the front of the farmhouse.

Dale approached Rick. “How is he?”

Lori smiled beside her husband. “He’ll pull through. Thanks to Hershel and his people.”

“And Shane.” Rick added. “We’d have lost Carl if not for him.”

You kicked lightly at the grass beneath your feet. As much as Rick was right, you hated standing by while he praised a traitor. Having known Shane most of your life, you felt beyond betrayed by what he had done and you couldn’t imagine how much it would hurt Rick. They were never just best friends; more like brothers. Hell, Shane was like your brother too, until recently.

“Thank god,” Carol said, hugging Lori. “We were so worried.”

“How did it happen?” Dale asked.

“A hunting accident. That’s all– just a stupid accident.”

Moments later you would all gather around an old tree, where Patricia had decided to keep a memorial for Otis. Everyone began stacking rocks in the spot as Hershel spoke of God, Otis and the legacy he left behind.

You had come to know what happened in the woods, Otis accidentally shooting Carl. As angry as you were, you had to admire that the man had risked his life to try and save your nephew.

“Shane, will you speak for Otis?” Hershel asked.

You looked to Shane, who was pale as a ghost.

“I’m not good at it.” Shane responded. “I’m sorry.”

“You were the last one with him.” Patricia spoke up. “You shared his final moments. Please. I need to know his death had meaning.”

“Okay.” Shane whispered, his eyes shifting to the ground for a moment. “We were about done, almost out of ammo. We were down to pistols by then. I was limping real bad. Ankle all swollen up. ‘We’ve got to save the boy’, see, that’s what he said. He gave me his backpack and shoved me ahead. Said to run and that he’d cover me. When I looked back…” Shane took a deep breath. “If not for Otis, I’d have never made it out alive and that goes for Carl too. It was Otis. He saved us both. If any death ever had meaning, it was his.”

Patricia smiled, nodding as tears fell down her cheeks. Shane turned to the pile of rocks, placing another one on top. You watched him closely, noticing his hands shaking ever so slightly. Daryl had been watching him too, your eyes connecting with a shared confusion. Whatever had happened with Otis, Shane was not himself.

…

“How long has this girl been lost?” Hershel asked.

“This’ll be day there.” Rick responded.

Maggie hurried over with a map, laying it across the hood of the car you were gathered around. “County survey map. Shows terrain and elevations.”

“This is perfect. We can finally get this thing organized.” Rick spoke. “We’ll grid the whole area and start searching in teams.”

“Not you. Not today.” Hershel said. “You gave three units of blood. You wouldn’t be hiking five minutes in this heat before passing out.” He then turned to Shane. “And your ankle… Push it now, you’ll be laid up for a month, no good to anybody.”

“Guess it’s just me.” Daryl sighed. “I’m gonna head back to the creek, work my way from there.”

“I’ll join you.” You spoke, earning a nod from him.

“I can still be useful. I’ll drive up the interstate, see if Sophia wandered back.” Shane suggested.

“Alright, tomorrow then.” Rick responded. “We’ll start doing this right.”

“That means we can’t have our people out there with just knives. They need the gun training we’ve promised them.”

Hershel shook his head. “I’d prefer you not carrying guns on my property. We’ve managed so far without turning this into an armed camp.”

“All due respect, you get a crowd of those things wandering in here…” Shane trailed off.

“Look, we’re guests here.” Rick spoke. “This is your property and we will respect that.”

Rick took his gun out of the holster, placing it on the hood of the car. Shane reluctantly followed suit.

“I’m heading out so I’ll be keeping mine.” You spoke, folding your arms across your chest.

Rick nodded. “First things first: Set camp, find Sophia.”

“I hate to be the one to ask, but somebody’s got to. What happens if we find her and she’s bit?” Shane asked. “I think we should all be clear on how we handle that.”

“You do what has to be done.”

“And her mother? What do you tell her?” Maggie asked.

“The truth.” Andrea spoke up. 

“It won’t be easy, but she’ll understand.” You agreed.

“I’ll gather and secure all the weapons. Make sure no one’s carrying till we’re at a practice range off site.” Shane nodded. “I do request one rifle man on lookout. Dale’s got experience.”

“Our people would feel safer, less inclined to carry a gun.” Rick agreed, and Hershel nodded. “Thank you.”

Everyone slowly parted ways, heading off to prepare for whatever job they were given. You found your backpack in the back of one of the cars, rummaging through it to make sure you had everything you needed. Luckily, you had enough water and a few granola bars to tie you over until you got back.

You headed back towards the farmhouse, watching as Rick came out and began approaching Daryl.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be back before dark.” Daryl mumbled, waving him off.

“Hey,” Rick spoke. “We got a base. We can get this search properly organized now.”

“You got a point or we just chatting?” Daryl asked.

“My point is it lets you off the hook.” Rick spoke, glancing over Daryl’s shoulder at you for a moment. “You don’t owe us anything.”

Daryl turned around, noticing you just a few steps away. He left out a small huff, beginning to walk past you and towards the farm’s main road. “My other plans fell through.”

…

“I hope Shane and Andrea are having better luck than we are.” You huffed, pushing your way through some bushes.

It had been a few hours since you’d left the farm and any trail you’d found belonged to a walker or animals. Luckily, Daryl had started teaching you a few things about tracking. It was still mostly lost on you, but you appreciated it.

“Doubt she made it back to the highway after all this time.” Daryl responded.

“Well, she’s got to be somewhere.” You spoke. “Surely she couldn’t have wandered off that far, dead or alive.”

Daryl paused, eyeing you for a moment. “You think she’s gone?”

You shook your head. “I don’t know. It’s hard to keep holding out hope after everything that’s happened in the last few days.”

“Carl’s a tough kid. He’ll bounce back before you know it.” 

You nodded in agreement, spotting a house through the trees. “Do you think Sophia might’ve hidden in there?”

“Only one way to find out.” Daryl replied, pushing his way through the brush.

It was an open area, a run down house sitting in the middle. Some wilting flowers and many weeds were scattered around the place. It looked long abandoned, but you prayed you’d find her alive inside.

Daryl approached the door with his crossbow in hand, looking back at you. You held your knife up and nodded, prompting him to open the door.

You followed Daryl’s lead as the two of you made your way through the house. It was silent besides the sound of your footsteps across the creaking floor. 

As you arrived in the kitchen, there was a small panty with the door cracked open ever so slightly.

You exchanged a glance with Daryl before pulling open the door, revealing a small set up of blankets and a pillow on the floor.

“She’s small enough, she could’ve been hiding out in here.” You spoke, lowering your knife to your side.

“Then where the hell’d she go?” Daryl huffed, turning around and peering out the kitchen window.

“It’s wishful thinking, but maybe she went off to find some water.” You picked up an empty bottle from the ground. “It looks like whoever was here ran out.”

You headed towards the kitchen cupboards, opening them up and grabbing whatever you could from the higher shelves.

Daryl looked back at you and you shrugged, placing it all on the table. “If it’s her and she comes back, at least she’ll be able to reach the food now.” 

“It’s getting dark,” Daryl mumbled. “We should head back.”

“I’ll come back here tomorrow, see if any of this food has been eaten.”

With that, the two of you left the house and began your journey back to the farm. Even though you were hopeful you’d found where Sophia had been living, you hoped someone else had actually managed to find her.

Before you reached the forest again, Daryl veered off towards a section of flowers that were still somehow blooming among the dead ones. He eyed them for a moment before picking one out and heading back towards you.

“A flower?” You asked..

He nodded. “Figured Carol could use something nice.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “I’m sure she’ll love it.”

…

By the time you arrived back at the farm, the sun was nearly gone for the day. Rick noticed the two of you on the path, rushing over as Daryl headed off to find Carol.

“How did it go?” He asked.

“We found an old house, but that’s it. Did anyone else have any luck?”

Rick shook his head.

“How is Carl?”

“He’s doing better.” Rick smiled slightly. “He’s up, talking Lori’s ear off.”

You laughed. “That’s my nephew.”

“How did things go with Daryl?” Rick asked.

“It went fine.” You responded. “I mean, he taught me a bit about tracking. Had my back when we ran into walkers.” 

Rick nodded. “You think he can be trusted?”

You raised an eyebrow. “You don’t?”

“It’s not like we got off on the best foot.” Rick spoke. “He’s an asset, there’s no disputing that, I just worry.”

“I trust him more than I trust Shane.” You mumbled.

“Shane?” Rick questioned. “What happened with Shane?”

You shook your head. “It’s nothing, really. He’s just been a completely different person for a while now. You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

“It’s a different world. Are any of the same people we were?” 

You bit your tongue, knowing it wasn’t your place to tell him about what happened with Lori. It wasn’t your place to tell him about the affair, either.

“You’re right.” You spoke. “You’re right, it’s just a hard adjustment I guess.”

Rick smiled at you. “Now that we have this place, maybe we can all start getting back to normal. Somewhat, at least.”

“I hope so.”

----

AN: Hi, here is the next chapter! I'm sorry it's been so long since an update, it's been a weird week. I hope you all enjoy this one! I'm going to try to get started on the next chapter tomorrow so it's not as long as a wait for the next one. Please remember to like/reblog if you enjoyed!

#daryl dixon; unearthed #twd #twd fanfiction #twd fanfic #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x reader

[laresearchette]

Friday, March 15, 2024 Canadian TV Listings (Times Eastern)

WHERE CAN I FIND THOSE PREMIERES?: THE BLOODY HUNDREDTH (Apple TV+) MANHUNT (AppleTV+)

WHAT IS NOT PREMIERING IN CANADA TONIGHT? AMERICA'S BACKYARD GOLD (TBD - Discovery Canada)

NEW TO AMAZON PRIME CANADA/CBC GEM/CRAVE TV/DISNEY + STAR/NETFLIX CANADA:

AMAZON PRIME CANADA BEACON 23 FRIDA THE LEGEND OF INIKPI WHERE THE HECK IS MY PERIOD?

CBC GEM PENNY DREADFUL (Season 2) QUICKENING

CRAVE TV FANTASTIC BEASTS: THE SECRETS OF DUMBLEDORE HUMANIST VAMPIRE SEEKING CONSENTING SUICIDE PERSON (Canadian Title) MONSTER MUD MOUNTAIN HAULERS (Seasons 1-2) MY GIRL 2 STRONGER THE SWAN PRINCESS: FAR LONGER THAN FOREVER TWO SINNERS OF A MULE YOU DON’T MESS WITH THE ZOHAN

DISNEY + STAR COPPOLA, THE AGENT (Coppola, El Representante) (Season 1) THE SPACE RACE TAYLOR SWIFT: THE ERAS TOUR (Taylor’s Version)

NETFLIX CANADA CHICKEN NUGGET (KR) DOWNSIZING FORD V. FERRARI IRISH WISH IRON REIGN (ES) MARSHALL MONK (Seasons 1-8) MURDER MUBARAK (IN) THE NUT JOB THE NUT JOB 2: NUTTY BY NATURE THE OUTREAU CASE: A FRENCH NIGHTMARE (FR) (Season 4) (CA)

MLB SPRING TRAINING (SN) 1:00pm: Tigers vs. Jays

TENNIS (TSN) 7:00pm: Indian Wells - Semifinals

NHL HOCKEY (SNEast/SNOntario) 7:00pm: Kings vs. Chicago (TSN3) 8:00pm: Ducks vs. Jets

NBA BASKETBALL (SN1) 7:00pm: Suns vs. Hornets (TSN4/TSN5) 7:30pm: Magic vs. Raptors (SN1) 9:30pm: Hawks vs. Jazz

MARKETPLACE (CBC) 8:00pm: Employees at Canada's big banks reveal immense pressure to push products and services that customers may not need in order to meet sales targets, or risk losing their jobs.

MILLION DOLLAR ISLAND (Discovery Canada) 8:00pm: A promise one of the players made comes back to haunt them as they now hold all of the power and try to strike a deal.

THE REAL HOUSEWIVES OF CHESHIRE (Slice) 8:00pm: Throwing Down the Gauntlet

BOLLYWED (documentary) 8:00pm: When Chandan Fashion opens its doors in two locations for the first time in 39 years, Sarab comes up with a wonderful plan to keep the family united.

GARAGE SALE MYSTERY (Super Channel Heart & Home) 8:00pm: With help from a detective (Andrew Dunbar), a woman (Lori Loughlin) investigates a string of burglaries and the death of a friend.

ABOUT THAT (CBC) 8:30pm

THE FIFTH ESTATE (CBC) 9:00pm: Rotten Promises: A pitch to turn the Maritimes into an apple-growing capital, with influential supporters, was an easy sell to investors and would-be foreign workers; those who bought in say it was a scam.

CRIMES OF FASHION: KILLER CLUTCH (W Network) 9:00pm: An American psychologist helps a French detective investigate a murder that happened backstage at a Paris fashion show.

CRIME BEAT (Global) 10:00pm: Surrey Six: Seeking Justice

THE TRAITORS (UK) (Crave) 11:00pm (SEASON PREMIERE): Psychological competition where 22 strangers play the ultimate reality game of detection, backstabbing and trust, in the hope of winning up to £120,000.

#cdntv #cancon #canadian tv #canadian tv listings #marketplace #million dollar island #the real housewives of cheshire #bollywed #about that #the fifth estate #crime beat #mlb baseball #tennis #nhl hockey #nba basketball

[lunagb]

A Plague of Sleet and Rot (ASoIaF x The Walking Dead fanfic)

BOOK 2 - A Road of Snow and Grime

Chapter 18: A Traitor's Life

Masterlist

Relationships: Daryl Dixon x Carol, Rick Grimes x Lori Grimes, Carl Grimes & Sophia, Jon x Andrea, Jon x Beth Greene

Summary: A month has passed since Jon Snow awakened on a highway outside of Atlanta and joined Rick Grimes and his fellow survivors. His memories of his death have returned and our alien world is beginning to make a bit of sense. Ever since the loss of the CDC, surviving in the apocalypse has been a daily struggle. The group is on thin ice. Supplies are dwindling. Hope is fading. The dead are walking. And their only chance for life may be a run-down farm, an old man and his daughters.

Chapter Summary: Jon grapples with his decision and Bowen learns a secret.

Time Frame: Farm Arc - Original Variation

Featured Characters: Jon Snow, Bowen Marsh, Ghost, Mormont's Raven, Rick Grimes, Carl Grimes, Lori Grimes, Daryl Dixon, Carol, Sophia, Dale, Glenn Rhee, Andrea, T-Dog, Edwin Jenner, Shane Walsh, Beth Greene, Maggie Greene, Hershel Greene, Randall Culver,

Warnings: gore, vivid descriptions of dead bodies, child mutilation, graphic violence, death, murder, active combat, descriptions of armed warfare

[Art above is a piece by Art.of.Azrael. You can support them here: https://linktr.ee/Art.of.Azrael ]

Any notes are appreciated!

Jon

It’ll do, I suppose. Jon ran his hand over the tree’s coarse, brown bark. It loomed tall. A hundred branches fanned in every direction. Roots as thick as a man’s arm snaked through a bed of hard, cracked earth. Tall, old and grand – just like a weirwood. Not that it’s like to matter. They won’t hear me and neither will he. Especially not him.

Jon knelt before the grand, old oak tree. One oak of many – of hundreds just like it. Its brothers and sisters formed the forest’s tree line. They gave the old tree a wide birth. As did the bushes and the shrubs and the grass. A grand giant out of place amongst its humble peers. Its leaves were green, not red. Some did have five fingers but, others had six and some had seven. None were shaped like hands. Its bark was brown and coarse, not white and smooth. But it was tall and old. Tall and old is the best I’m like to get.

Ghost watched the tree. His red eyes followed the canopy of fanned branches as they swayed in the muggy, summer breeze. Bloodbeak watched Jon. His scarred eye stared into his, unblinking. Jon had never seen the damnable eye blink. Not once.

Jon drew his dagger and got to carving the face. The brown, course bark parted without complaint. The wood it shielded surrendered to the will of his dagger’s point. Ghost watched him work, head cocked, eyes wide. His ear twitched with every scrape.

“You’re meant to be watching the woods, not me.”

Ghost cocked his head to the other side.

“Oh, very well then – just keep still, boy. Let’s see if I can’t make it look like you. You’re as close as I’m like to find here.”

Bloodbeak perched among the highest, thinnest branches. All at once the breeze vanished. The red morning light danced upon his sleek, black feathers and warmed the pale, exposed flesh of his scarred, unblinking eye. For once the raven said nothing at all.

Two slim ovals for the eyes, a lengthy triangle for the nose and an upside-down arch for the mouth. A child’s drawing stared back at him. Even Arya could have done better than this. Weirwoods looked grim and mighty and wise. The old oak looked like a sad lackwit. 

Jon sheathed his dagger. 

If it’s not to your liking, you can complain to someone who bloody cares. I’m not here to talk to you lot, anyways. 

Jon closed his eyes and bowed his head. Most like, I speak to no one but myself. I’ve felt the cold embrace. I’ve seen what lies on the other side. But… in the small chance that I’m wrong or mistaken or saw a falsehood, I hope my words find you well, Father. 

A muggy, morning wind whistled across the fields. 

What I’ve done – or rather what I did not do – was it right? Did I serve my duty or did I serve myself? Marsh has turned cloak once. Who’s to say he won’t do so again? When things are hard. When things look hopeless. When it suits his benefit. He was a coward; is a coward. Not a man suited to times like this. He buries his head in the snow. He cowers before truth; before hard truths. A man like him cannot adapt to his circumstances. He is a drowning man; like to drag others down with him. Voices whisper these doubts to me, small voices but sharp too. Like needles, they prick me. 

Yet, despite their incessant pricking, I know it in my heart of hearts that Marsh wasn’t mine to kill. Not anymore. Not after my brothers gave me justice. If I had killed him again, there would be no justice in it. What is a second justice if not a murder? I could not kill him. He wasn’t mine to kill. He wasn’t. I pray you agree, Father. These sorts of things; questions of life and death, of right and wrong – you always knew the answers. I pray that your blood has granted me the sight to see. If you were here, you would have scolded me just now. No doubt. Mayhaps, you are scolding me right now for what I do not say, for those I do not address, but… you did not know the old gods like I did, Father. If you had, you would have no words for them either.

Jon lifted his head. Sap wept from the corners of the old oak’s eyes. Amber rivers ran down its brown, course face. Ghost stared at the amber tears. Bloodbeak stared at Jon and said nothing at all. Not even a mutter. Jon clenched his jaw. It’s not Father. He stood. It’s them.

Your power extends beyond the weirwoods. So be it. That does not make me your pawn. Fuck off to your dead world. 

He turned his back on the old oak and headed back to camp. The wall loomed high. The sun shone red. The muggy air reeked of rot.

Bowen

Bowen pulled at the t-shirt’s collar. Too tight. The shirt managed to squeeze him all over; especially his belly. And mismatched to boot. Fashion meant as little as swords but, it would serve to possess as few reasons to be disliked as possible. He had enough as it was. The icy stares and venomous glares – they all must surely be privy to his greatest sin. It was less than he deserved but even so, Jon Snow had granted him a second life. Best to make it one worth living. For however long this dying world allowed him. What sort of life was lived stooped in hatred and ill will? A traitor’s life. His blacks and leathers might have offered a solution to his appearance problem but, dying of heat didn’t seem like the proper way to honour Jon’s mercy either.

At the very least, the shirt and half-leg trousers were thin and allowed the breeze – as muggy as it was – to come and go as it pleased. Never did Bowen think he’d ever feel such heat again. Even after months of living in it, he found himself bewildered when his sweat didn’t freeze on his forehead. If, only for a moment. I must remember to thank… seven hells what is his name? The one who gave me the clothes. With hair white as snow and a beard to match.

Lump lay in the corner of the tent. Will she help matters? The greatsword was near as large as he was. On a swordsman, she’d inspire trust and reliability. On him, she’d inspire mockery.

The tent flap flew open. Chris’s freckled face appeared. “They’re serving breakfast. You coming?”

“Aye.” Bowen considered Lump.

Chris pushed up his glasses. “Hurry, I’m hungry.”

“Hold on.” Bowen retrieved his dagger from the safety of its shelter beneath his cloak and slid it into its scabbard. Lump remained behind as he crawled from the tent. He shielded his eyes from the glare of the red, morning sun. “A bad omen,” he muttered.

“It’s just the sun. Sometimes it’s red. Sometimes it’s orange.”

“A red sky in the morning is a warning from the Crone, lad – of ill luck and hardships to come.”

“Right.” Chris rolled his eyes.

The boy’s youthful arrogance kept him from his faith. To not worship the seven – gods of a distant world – was one thing but, Chris believed himself above even his own world’s god. A god called God. Regardless of his uninspired name, to abandon a higher power was a fool’s errand. A man needs such power to keep him humble lest he wander too far from the trail of righteousness. As I once did. Chris, however, had not felt true power. He had not felt the Stranger’s cold embrace between worlds or the Mother’s kiss upon rebirth. He knew only what this world had taught him, and this world did not teach much of faith. In time, as he matured and this world healed, he would see true as all men should. He has too. It has too.

Bodies swamped a table made of… plastic. More bloody plastic. Plastic pavilions, plastic cups, plastic cutlery. Plastic this and plastic that. Is nothing in this world crafted by the hands of men? Only the food, it seemed. Well, by the hands of women. Real women. Not girls or savages. Real honest to gods women. As he and Chris claimed two free plastic stools, one of them plopped two bowls in front of them and then her arse on the stool beside him. Her smile almost made him forget about the incessant smell of rot that loitered all around.

“Bowen, right? And you’re Chris? Sorry for not finding a chance for proper introductions yesterday. My name’s Lori – Rick’s wife and Carl’s mother. The boy with the hat.” She offered her hand.

Bowen shook it. “Don’t apologise. It’s quite alright. We all had a lot on our minds last night.”

“Hello,” Chris mumbled before shovelling oats into his mouth.

“You’ll have to excuse him. I’m afraid, we haven’t had a proper meal in quite a while.”

Lori waved him off. “Oh, he’s fine. Boys – they never change.”

“This fine work must be your doing, aye?” Bowen gestured to the porridge with his plastic spoon. Every bowl around the table was filled halfway. They live surrounded by fields yet, they ration their food. Caution or necessity?

“Canned porridge. My speciality.”

It tasted of nothing and felt closer to bile upon his tongue than oats yet, a woman’s hands wielded a certain sort of magic. Bowen swallowed his heaping spoonful and pointed the spoon around the table. “I’m afraid I haven’t had to chance to learn names.”

Lori smiled and gestured across the table at a woman with short hair. “That’s Carol. The boy beside her ignoring his food is my son, Carl.” The lad had a chipper look about him. A good sign. Carol’s hair disconcerted him. Short, like a man’s. A strange custom for a strange land, or madness?

Beside the lad, a young lady with hair of gold tied taught shot him a withering look. “That’s Andrea. Ignore the scowl. She scowls more often than not nowadays.”

“Aye.” The scowl did not falter even as Bowen held eye contact. She is privy to my sin. Mayhaps they all are. Lori’s easy smile remained without a twitch or quiver.

A white-haired, wrinkled man sat at the end of the table. Two women sat on either side of him. They shared the same round faces and fair complexion. “That’s Hershel, the farm’s owner, and his daughters, Beth and Maggie. Beth is blonde. Maggie is brunette.”

“Ah yes, we’ve met. It’s thanks to him I have fresh clothes. I’ve been meaning to give him my thanks.”

“I’ll let him know you’re grateful.”

“Thank you.” Bowen nodded. “So, he opened up his home to you?”

“Yeah… he’s a kind man, helpin’ strangers like that. Is Chris your son?”

Chris choked on his porridge.

Bowen slapped him on the back. “I’m afraid not.”

Lori nodded and gestured to a savage-looking man whittling arrows at the table. Unkempt, tangled hair hung over sharp, rugged features. He looked half a wildling. “That’s Daryl. Best not to ignore his scowls. We picked him up some time ago, him and his brother. Found them wanderin’ the woods and gave them a place to lay their heads. Never been the friendliest folks but he’s been with us ever since.”

“And where is this brother?”

“Gone. Is your story a similar one with Tyreese?”

Good. “Did he find me? Aye. Helped me get my bearings after I, uh… after I-”

“Arrived? After you died?”

“Jon has spoken of our home?”

“He has.”

And of more, I wager. “And you believe him?”

“I’ve believed stranger things. You’ve been with them since the start then?”

“Aye, or since my start. I arrived a month or so after the dead began to walk to hear it told.”

“It must have been hard, surviving in such a small group.”

“Our numbers were a hindrance, aye. Tyreese doesn’t trust easily. No matter how many times I told him there was safety in numbers, he’d never listen.”

“He left people to die,” Chris muttered. “Good people.”

“But not you?”

“No, not me,” Bowen said.

“Really? But, you’re strangers, right? People who knew nothing about one another.”

Bowen winced. “No… Nothing at all.”

Lori gave him a shining look. “I see.”

Lori spent the next few minutes detailing the other members of the group from the dark-skinned man, Theodore, who they called to T-Dog to the brooding, once-leader, Shane. When all was said, they seemed decent people; most held to their God and most had a role to play. Even if they were essentially mere small-folk, Bowen could see the beginnings of something great around him. The Culvers could cause issues left unchecked but their leader had a strong look about him. Surely such a man could keep a fat fool and a few squalling children in line.

Lori left to attend to her motherly duties and Chris wasted no time grumbling. “He wouldn’t let me see her last night…”

“Give him time. She’s his daughter.”

“She’s my girlfriend. We were together for four months before the world fell apart. Four months. She loves me and she’d want me by her side.”

Poor lovesick fool. “Aye, I know, lad.”

“Snow!” The old bear’s raven fluttered onto the table. “Snow! Snow!” Death had had no effect on the creature’s lungs it seemed.

He approached the table flanked by his direwolf, bundled in his blacks and mail – a spectre of the past. Smiles and warm words greeted him as he sat, and a bowl found its way before him almost at once. The lad with the hat, Carl, broke away from his mother and rushed to his side. Jon Snow pushed the hat down over the lad’s eyes and whispered something that got the lad giggling. Not once did his eyes venture Bowen’s way. Plenty of others did though. Andrea and the doctor, Jenner glanced his way. Andrea’s scowl festered and a perplexed smile crossed Jenner’s lips. Were they privy to last night? Bowen felt sick. Had he been granted mercy only to have it dashed by a stranger? The whole camp could want him dead, Daryl, Andrea and even Lori for all he knew. It’s less than I deserve. Bowen’s hands trembled. It’s less than I deserve.

“Sorry to keep y’all waitin’.” However many pairs of eyes sent glares his way, but none remained to accuse him as the table’s undivided attention drew towards a tall man with a salt-and-pepper beard. He sat beside Lori at the opposite end of the table to Hershel.

“Come to make excuses, Rick?” Shane asked.

“If by excuses you mean answers, then yeah, I have.” Rick spoke the way you might to a lackwit child – slow and soft. Shane scowled and crossed his arms. Rick cast a smile upon the table of staring eyes. “Hershel, would you mind startin’ us off?”

“Of course.” Hershel got to his feet. The eyes shifted to the end of the table opposing Rick. “I’ve never been one for keepin’ secrets. How can we love our neighbours if we don’t trust ‘em? But, I kept a secret anyhow. Didn’t start off as a secret. Wasn’t ever intended to be a secret. However, a secret it became. So, to clear the air, let’s set things straight. We are out of basic medicine, that mean antib…” The kindly, old whitebeard spoke and spoke some more. Voices raised concerns and charges. But Bowen heard only noise. Out of medicine? They couldn’t be. Julie was safe. They’d said she was safe. How could she be safe without medicine, without the miracle treatments of this strange land?

“You said she was safe.” He must have spoken louder than he intended for a hushed silence swept across the table and every pair of eyes snapped to him. Even Jon’s, sad, sullen eyes. They were too much to bear.

“Safe! Safe! Safe!” cried the Old Bear’s raven.

“I did…” Hershel glanced at Rick. “And… well…”

“She is,” Rick said. “Or will be.”

“Liar!” Chris slammed his fist on the table. “You’re all liars! You said you’d help her! You said you could save her life!”

Bowen touched Chris’s back. “Calm yourself.” The rage deflated out of the boy. He held his head in his hands, tears brimming in his eyes. “What do you plan to do?” Bowen asked.

“There’s a town a short drive away from here full of all kinds of abandoned supplies. We’ll put together a small group and scavenge for medicine to replace what we’ve used up.” Rick smiled with his eyes as he spoke. “Julie’s going to be just fine, I swear it.”

“On your god?”

“On my God. On my wife. On my son.” Rick squeezed his wife’s hand and found his son’s eyes across the table.

“Fuck that. The little bitch is a goner.” May Culver sported a grin as Chris shot to his feet.

“Shut up! No, she isn’t!”

“Yes. She is. Y’all blind? She ain’t got a fuckin’ hand no more. Don’t get me wrong, her kind can take a lot of hell and all but, not that much.”

“SHUT UP!”

“Or what, little man?” James snapped.

“I- I’ll-”

“You’ll sit down, lad,” Bowen said.

“But-”

“Listen to the man, boy,” Sam spoke a little above a whisper. Some leader.

Chris gritted his teeth and sat, fists clenched. As the pack of fools laughed among one another, Sam did nothing. Even as the whole table shot him glares. Even as the fools mocked Julie’s name right beside him. Instead, he stared at the table.

“Got somethin’ to add, Sam?” Rick asked.

“A scavenge… a scavenge won’t work.”

“Why the hell not?” Andrea snapped.

May laughed. “Cause the mall’s overrun, bitch.”

“So?”

“So…” Sam met her eyes. “That’s the only place you’re gonna find any medicine. Everything else’s been picked clean. By us and-”

“Strangers.” James spat.

Sam gave a grim nod. “Y’all ain’t the first to run through these parts. People have been coming and going for months, taking what they will.”

“And you took from them,” Jon said.

Sam didn’t meet Jon’s eyes.

“It’s a dog-eat-dog world, Snow,” May said. “Ain’t enough to around no more, case you ain’t noticed.”

“Damn straight,” James said.

“Ain’t enough,” Pete said.

The three fools looked to the quiet one, Randall. “Dog eat dog,” he muttered.

“It was our town, not theirs,” Sam muttered.

“That stops now,” Rick said. “We find strangers, we don’t rob them, we help them.”

“We gonna foster the whole world now?” May asked. “We’ll run out of room eventually.”

“Y’all could always kindly fuck off. That’ll make room,” Daryl said.

“Right back at ya, arrow boy.” May grinned.

Andrea shook her head and waved her hands. “Hold on. Screw the mall. What about your stash? Surely you’ve got medicine.”

“Get your own,” May snapped.

“We found it fair and square!” James said.

“Fair and square!” Pete said.

“Fair and square…” Randall said.

“That girl’s going to die, you fucking monsters!”

May sneered and shrugged.

“We can’t give you any,” Sam said.

Andrea got to her feet. “You can and you will.”

May shot to her feet. “Try it, bi-” Sam clouted her ear. She clutched it and fell back into her seat.

“I already gave it all to you.”

“Bullshit.”

“Damn, right bullshit!” James said. “I know you ain’t go much sense Pa but there ain’t no way you’re that fuckin’ stupid!”

Sam extinguished James’s fury with a look. “Watch your tone, boy.”

“Why?” Rick asked. “We agreed on a third.”

“Same reason we don’t have none now. Was hardly any to begin with and I ain’t about to let women and children get sick.”

“No,” Andrea said. “You’re lying. Rick, let me check their stash.”

Rick weighed her words.

“Have I lied to you so far?” Sam asked.

“You said you can control them.” Andrea gestured to the Culver. “Look how well that’s gone.”

“I am controllin’ them.”

Andrea scoffed.

Sam scowled. “I ain’t a fucking liar. Go check the fucking stash, you won’t find nothing.”

“But, Pa!”

Sam raised his hand. James gave him a desperate look but received only a glare for an answer.

Rick nodded. “Go on, take a look.”

Andrea hurried off towards the Culver’s camp.

Pete bristled. “I’m checkin’ once you’re done, girl! If I find even a crumb missin’, it’s your ass!”

“Shut up, Pete. You could do with a few less crumbs,” Sam said.

Pete huffed and folded his arms over his potbelly.

“Is this mall our only option?” Rick asked. “Are you sure?”

“There’s a hundred fucking towns just like this one. Don’t gotta only search here,” Daryl said.

“A shot in the dark,” Jon muttered.

“The kid’s right,” Sam said. “If our town’s been picked clean, so has every other town around here. The mall’s a guarantee. No shot anyone’s stupid enough to go in there. You can see the dead fuckers from the street shambling about like a wall of fucking rotting flesh.”

“No one ‘cept us,” Daryl said.

Jon thumbed his chin. “How did this mall, as you say, end up like that?”

“It was a gatherin’ place,” Beth said. Her voice was small and soft. She stared at the table. “The TV said to go there. Probably the whole town listened.”

“But not you?”

Beth shook her head.

“Never trust a talking head. That’s where it’ll get you,” Sam said. “The place is locked from the inside. Got a big ol’ chain wrapped around the handles. Some bastard must have done it as shit was hitting the fan.”

Glenn shifted in his seat. “It’s thanks to whoever did it that we’ve got less walkers to deal with.”

“Yeah? We can tell them that. Sure they’ll agree with you. Might even let us waltz right in for a little shopping spree.”

“Don’t talk to him like that,” Maggie snapped.

“We haven’t decided on anything yet,” Rick said. “Something like this – this is a decision we all need to make.”

A decision for them all to make? He couldn’t mean a vote. Whatever it was, it got nearly every head nodding around the table.

“Always with the fucking voting…” May muttered.

“A vote?” Bowen asked. “For this?”

“That’s how we do things around here.” Rick nodded to Carol.

The short-haired woman scurried off to the house. She returned with a bowl, scraps of paper and a pen.

“Y’all know how this works. The paper and pen will pass around. Right down a yes or a no. Of course, you don’t have to vote but it makes things easier if you do.”

As the bowl, paper and pens made their way around the table, Bowen couldn’t quite believe his eyes. It was as if there were choosing a Lord Commander all over again, and they all acted as if nothing were amiss. Only Jon gave the bowl a disconcerted look. Just as this world was beginning to make sense, it always felt the need to throw something new at him.

The bowl arrived in front of him and Chris. “Even us?” he asked.

“Of course. You’re a part of the group now. You get a vote.”

“Good.” Chris grabbed the pen and paper. “I won’t let you let her die.” He scribbled down yes.

Bowen did the same.

“I’m going,” Chris said before the bowl had moved even one more space down the table.

“That’ll be Glenn’s decision, son,” Rick said. “If we decide to go at all.”

“I’m going and so is Bowen.” Chris looked at him. “Right?”

An army of the dead. Killer corpses. Death incarnate. “I-” Bowen’s skin crawled. “Well-” Chris gave him a desperate look – a pleading, pitiful, desperate look. The scared look of a boy. Bowen swallowed. “I will.”

“I get you want to help your friend.” Glenn wrote down his answer. “But, no offence, I need people I can trust out there.”

An out. A perfect excuse. No one would bat an eye. Jon’s stare bore a hole through his head. “No. We’re coming.”

“We’re going whether it’s with you or on our own,” Chris says.

“Let them.” Jon wrote down his answer. “It’ll keep as many people familiar with the wall at the wall as possible.” Jon gave Bowen a commanding look. This was his chance. A chance to prove himself. Far more than he deserved.

“Let’s finish the vote before we decide anything,” Lori said. She handed the full bowl to Rick.

“Right.” Rick separated the votes into two piles. Nineteen votes for yes. Three for no. “We’re doing this, then… fine – Chris, Bowen you’ll go with Glenn.”

“And Tyreese,” Bowen said. “He wouldn’t forgive us if we left him behind.”

Rick nodded. “And Tyreese.”

“And me,” Jon said.

“I’ll go too,” Sam said.

“No,” Glenn piped up. “Hold on, no. I’ll bring the other three but not you two.”

“Why the hell not?” Sam asked.

“Aye, for what reason?”

“Okay heroes, first of all, you have three broken ribs. You’re only useful if you can swing a sword. And as for you, Sam. You’re better suited here, making sure things run smoothly.”

Jon grimaced and stared at the table. “Aye… okay.”

“Who then?” Sam asked.

“Apart from Bowen, Chris and Tyreese, I’m taking me, Daryl and Maggie.”

“Hold on now,” Hershel said.

“God, Dad. You can’t say no for me. I’m not a kid,” Maggie said.

“It’s too dangerous, and besides, you ain’t never done anything like it before.”

“I have to! How many times have I gone out huntin’? Huh?”

“And look how well that turned out,” Andrea said. She rejoined the table.

Maggie froze, caught between shock and outrage.

Andrea flashed Sam her scowl. “He’s telling the truth.”

“Always do,” Sam said.

“Hershel,” Glenn said. “I need someone with medical experience out there. Preferably someone with two working hands.”

Hershel flushed. “Then take Doctor Jenner.”

Maggie joined Glenn’s side. “Didn’t you hear him? He said he needs people he can trust out there and, I don’t know if you’ve been payin’ attention lately, I’m the person Glenn trusts most nowadays. That’s what love’ll do.”

Glenn flushed and Hershel kneaded his brown. Hershel has the right of it. Women are not made to face such horrors.

“Fine,” Hershel sighed.

Maggie smirked and kissed Glenn on the cheek. It would seem that Daryl isn’t the only one with a bit of wildling in them around here.

“Well then, that settles that. Best we get to work. The wall ain’t gonna build itself.” Rick stood. “Glenn-”

“Hold on, brother,” Shane stood. “You ain’t gettin’ away that easy.”

“Excuse me?”

“What right did you think you had to keep that a secret?”

“It wasn’t a secret.”

“Like hell it wasn’t.”

“It wasn’t. We only ran out yesterday. Glenn, Lori and I decided it’d be best to tell y’all after the workday so it wouldn’t weigh on your minds in the heat.”

“Yeah, man,” Glenn said. “We were gonna tell everyone.”

“It was never a secret,” Lori said.

“Call it what you will. It was a secret. You lied.”

Rick clenched his jaw. “Again, Shane, we were planning on telling everybody at the end of the day.”

“What’s all this we business, brother? You’re in charge ain’t ya? Every decision is your decision no matter how many people are involved. A leader needs to take charge of his decisions, not hide behind excuses all the damn time. He needs to be decisive.”

“Right… what’s your damn point, Shane?”

“My damn point is this, brother!” Shane looked right at Jon. “When I was leader, y’all would have known right away. Y’all would have known yesterday and y’all would have known two weeks ago. Two weeks. How often does Lori take a count, brother? Every few days. And not once did it ever occur to you to mention we were gonna run out of medicine?”

Voices raised as one to shout over one another.

“Shut the hell up, Shane!”

“When you were in charge?!”

“Look how that turned out!”

“Sit down!”

“Your time’s done!”

Jon’s fearsome glare spoke louder than any shouts. Rick looked about to burst but, a touch from Lori settled him.

Rick raised his hands for quiet. “Normally, I’d say we take a vote on it. But, after all that, it seems a bit redundant, huh?

Shane flashed the group a scowl. “Whatever.” He stormed away.

Jon

In front of the farmhouse, the scavenging party prepared to leave. Atop his motorbike, Daryl whittled arrows. In the pickup truck, Glenn and Maggie reviewed a map. And all Jon could do was stand idle as Bowen Marsh secured their supplies in the truck’s bed.

He was never much of a swordsman, Bowen Marsh. Could he count them? Could he organise them? Yes. But when it came to swinging one, the man may as well have taken a bread roll with him to battle for all the use he’d be. The greatsword made for quite a spectacle against his short, round figure.

Jon opened and closed his sword hand as the party made their preparations; as he stood idle and still. “No one would blame you. There’s no shame in it.”

Bowen secured a strap across the pickup truck’s bed. “And let him go on his own? Him? A scrawny boy? No.”

Chris sat in the rangerover, on the opposite side to Tyreese, two rows of seats apart.

“He has Tyreese.”

Bowen fiddled with the strap. A poor farce. His eyes gave him away.

“Glenn’s as sensible as they come and Daryl’s practically half-wolf. The lad’s in fine hands.”

“I’m going, Jon,” Bowen said barely above a whisper.

Jon crossed his arms. “I’m not your Lord Commander anymore. Far be it from me to tell a man where he may or may not go. But don’t go making a mockery of my mercy by getting yourself killed.”

“I… I won’t.” Bowen refused to meet his eyes.

“Good.” Jon tried to ignore Rick’s stare. He watched him like a hawk whenever he and Bowen were ever so much as in shouting distance of one another. “Do you know how to shoot?”

Bowen’s nose wrinkled. “Aye, I’ve more or less figured out the damnable things. It’s not something I can ever get used to. It’s like wielding a bloody lightning bolt. Unnatural it is. Bloody unnatural.”

“Aye, but useful.”

“I suppose…”

Bowen’s handgun looked like any other. They’d found it in a gutter, covered in grime, mud and blood. After Daryl almost lost his lunch when he fished it from the filth he’d refused to ever touch it again and yet, he’d made such a fuss when Rick gave it to Bowen.

“You want to give it to him?” The look Daryl shot Bowen could have curdled milk.

Glenn couldn't meet his eyes. “Yeah, man. If he’s coming with us, he needs one.”

Daryl spat. “Leave him in the car, then. Ain’t gonna be no use anyways, fat old bastard.”

“No. Everyone needs a partner out there – someone to cover their back. Without him, we’re an odd number.”

“Whatever… he ain’t my partner then. No way.”

“I’ll pair with Chris,” Bowen murmured.

And that was as much as Bowen had said about the situation. Death had done nothing for his cravenness it seemed. If anything, he was more meagre than how Jon had left him, if such a thing were possible.

Bowen gave the wall a bold look. “This was you’re doing?”

“My doing? No. Only my idea. The doing was everyone’s.” The rest of the group filled the air with a cacophony of noise; hacking branches, crashing hammers, whirring drills and a screaming chainsaw. All while he stood about idle, on his errand. Glenn wouldn’t let him swing a sword and Rick wouldn’t let him swing an axe. If they had their way, he’d spend most of his time scampering about, pretending to be useful.

Atop a tree trunk post, Sam paused the swinging of his hammer to shout a command at the lumber team.

“That man.” Bowen pointed. “What is his role?”

“First Builder, if you were to give it a title.”

“You say that as if he has no title.”

“He doesn’t.”

“No title?”

“None we use. He used to be a ‘site manager,’. I’ve come to understand they mean more or less the same thing.”

“Bizarre.”

“Aye. But, ignoring the strangeness, it’s proven useful. Those tools came from a building project he worked on before their world collapsed. Power tools they’re called. They’ve turned what should have been months of labour into mere weeks.”

“Should I even ask how they work?”

“Another time, mayhaps.”

Bowen smiled but, in the next breath, his meagerness returned. The smile shamed him. And so it should. To have shame as a constant companion was a lenient punishment.

“Your man…” Bowen’s voice hushed. “Rick, was it? Who was he before the collapse?”

“A sheriff. Some sort of law enforcer.”

“Who’s law? The king’s? Is a sheriff what they call a knight?”

“No. It’s something different. As far as I can gather, sheriffs hold no legal privileges. They swear no vows. Nothing like a knight. Closer to a gold cloak, in a sense.”

“I see… but he still wielded some power, aye? Even if he is of low birth?”

“Some. How much, I haven't been able to put together.”

“As much as… as much as you did, do you think?”

The question might have been bold if hadn’t been whispered and murmured. “You doubt him?”

“I don’t feel any way about him. I don’t know him. Do you trust him above yourself?”

“He makes them feel safe. Safety, even if it’s an illusion, is what they need right now.”

“But real safety? What of that?”

“You need only look ahead of you to see real safety.”

Bowen looked at the wall as he fidgeted with his hands. “Would that wall be there without you?”

“No, Marsh. It wouldn’t.”

“And… if a similar project were required and… and he hadn’t the strength to-”

“I’d ensure it saw completion.”

Bowen nodded. “Good. Good…” He stared at his feet. His hands trembled. “But… why risk it? What if he were to resist? Why not just-”

“Enough.”

“But, they respect you, aye? They’d follow-”

“I’m no power monger, Marsh. They chose him to keep them safe. They’re safe. That’s all there is to it.”

“Time to go!” Glenn shouted. “Bowen, you’ll ride with Chris and Tyreese in the rangerover!”

“Aye!” Bowen glanced Jon’s way. “I… before I go, again- I must say… thank you. For last night.”

“Speak nothing of it.”

“Aye, of course.”

“I mean it. Don’t ever speak of it to me again.”

Bowen stiffened. “Of course. Sorry.” He scurried off towards the rangerover.

“Bowen,” Jon called.

Halfway in the car, Bowen looked back at him. “Aye?”

“Don’t die.”

Bowen smiled. “Once was enough, I think.”

As they sped off down the road, kicking up rooster tails of gravel dust, Jon spied her glare. From across the farm, as she hacked branches from a fallen tree, Andrea looked as if she might kill him.

#fanfiction #fanfic #asoiaf #the walking dead #asoiaf fanfic #the walking dead fanfic #jon snow #rick grimes #ao3fic #ao3 #jon snow fanfiction #rick grimes fanfiction #the night's watch #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfiction #horror #zombie #zombie apocalypse

[soopissoopnotsoup]

Always Running

My feet hit the floor, and I started running. I knew too much. Too much to stay alive. But fuck it, I would not go quietly. They could take me kicking and screaming. If i was lucky and made enough noise, i would be martyred, all I did wouldn’t be for nothing.

How did I even get here? I was never supposed to be a part of this, never supposed to be a hero. The truth is, I’m a coward. I was content sitting by. Of course, I knew it was all terrible, but it wasn’t affecting me. My family was safe. That was what mattered. And honestly? It all felt fake. Those girls, and what happened to them, it was a tragedy, but it was just a horror story to me. A warning tale. They were never real people.

But now I find myself in the same position. Risking my life. Not for a better future, not to help others, but for myself. It was always for myself. That's what they don’t tell you about heroes. We never set out to be. I am a selfish, entitled, coward. I don’t deserve to be put on a pedestal. But hell, part of me enjoys it. Part of me is filled with pride because, well, look at me. I’m doing something with my life. I actually have a purpose, and sure, I’m not doing this ‘for the greater good’, but how will anyone know? They won’t. I’ll go down as a hero. What more can I ask for?

-

-

-

I’m still running. What from? I no longer know. The danger is gone. We defeated them. We took back our life. Made the future ours. I know this is terrible for me to say, to even think, but I miss those days. When I had a purpose. When I was doing something good. I no longer know what I’m doing anymore. Back then, I felt powerful. Despite the constant fighting, the struggle to stay alive, I at least had control of my life. Now? I have nothing. Oh sure, it may look like I do. I may have this lavish house, a constant source of entertainment, and I should definitely be grateful but I can’t. After all, the second I fall out of the public's favor, this is all gone. I’ve seen it happen before, to all of my fellow fighters. 

At first we celebrated, and I liked it. I had achieved what I wanted, but then they put us in charge. I never understood why. Isn’t this what we just freed ourselves from? Was all our sacrifice, all our pain, all the death, was it all just for this? I miss when I was no one, when I could rely blindly on others to take care of the situation. Now I am that other. And that is terrifying. 

-

-

-

I am running again. Now, I run from the past. Hide myself behind a bottle. It was all my fault. Always my  fault. I understand it all now. I wish I had abandoned ship when I had the chance. I wish I joined Zariah. She’s dead now. Hanged as a traitor to the New County. I would be too, if I hadn’t been so blind. She was our leader, the symbol for hope. Bet she knew what I now do. That’s why she turned. I wish I could, but still, I am a coward. And tired. I already toppled one government, and. Well. This new one benefits me. I may hate myself for the lies I tell, but I always did. Sure the reason changed, but the hatred has always been there. Burning fiercely, consuming me in every silent moment. At least now, I am comfortable. I have a nice house, and people who worship me as the New Deity. I may be alone, truly alone, but was there ever anyone who I could trust? Who would let me be me, just for a second? I don’t think so.

-

-

-

I’m so tired of running. But I still do it. I can not face myself, can’t look at all the blood i spilt, and walk away sane. One day, I will stop running, I tell myself. One day. I pray for that day to come. I could stop the system. Share what I know. But that wouldn’t change everything. Loris tried. He and I were the last of them. Now it’s only me. It’s always me. Always meant to be me. I wish I could die. I wish I never accepted the Crown. Maybe the deaths would still happen, maybe everything would still be hateful, and terrible, but at least it wouldn’t be my fault. I could be one of them, bitter and hating the system, instead of controlling it. 

This is the price I pay. For selling every aspect of myself for my fifteen seconds of fame. I doubt anyone still remembers what happens. It’s been so long. I caught my reflection yesterday. Gone is the girl with short hair and a scar filled face. Now I am porcelain, every feature shifting to be beautiful. No one can know the pain I went through. There can not be a single crack. Orai cracked. Drowned by guilt. The porcelain melted.

-

-

-

My body runs.My soul has fallen out. My joy has left. I steal others. I am cold, I am bitter, I am the world. I hear talk of another rebellion. I hope it succeeds. I hope they win where I fail, but hope is a dull thing. The situation will repeat. Again, and Again. This is the only Future. The only Past. I wonder, who is the unlucky soul who will be me? Start out by accident. End up the only Original. Not by moral means, but because they are the most willing to surrender. 

Who will be Zariah? So filled with hope, longing for a better future, and A passion to actually fulfill it, The first to realize the truth, and the first to die. Who will be Morin? The bravest, the coldest, most calculated. I was so sure he would last. He had the most determination, to be better. The second to leave. He ran away. At least he got out.  Who will be Orai? So kind, so compassionate, so likely to have been the first, but lasted till the third, when she realized the truth. I think that’s why she survived so long. She was too naive to realize the truth until it was too late.  And who will be Loris? Who only stayed as he had a hope that we could change, that we could be better. That blind faith could only carry him for so long. When he realized, he really did try, to help, to fix it. He disappeared before he could release it all. It's a shame. History always has to repeat.

-

-

-

I’ve stopped running. Finally, My feet have given out. I’m at the end of the road. And I could not be more glad. Oh, I have no doubt things will continue. Nothing will change. But it’s no longer my fault. I am not the cause, nor a passive bystander. The guilt will pass on to the next, and the next, and the next, but it will no longer be mine. She raises a sword to my  throat. I smile, one full of pity. I am sorry she has to take my burden, but not enough to stop her. “Thank you,”I whisper.”for freeing me.” She looks so bright, like she believes she can bring change. I’m sure she does. But I’ve seen this happen before. And I was in her position. She is confused by my statement, naturally  but does not hesitate to slice my throat. That ruthlessness, no question attitude will serve her well. Or prolong her suffering. Whichever way you view it. My body shakes, and I heave my final breath. “I’m sorry.”

#im sorry #this is so haphazard #but if I have an semblance of a plot I will fucking explode #I have to post this or else I'll get my 'writer' card revoked #fingers crossed I'll be able to post one thing per month #but alas #I suck

[nityarawal]

I heard Carmel Benson is selling her home & Idyology restaurant last night f/ Handyman! 

Great news! 

Could y'all arrange settlement w/ ex? 

I'll take both for $400k. 

Before PNC bank repos them For Shane Stewart OR HIS hired bribed murdering militia in management there- like Jerry Sue Haney. 

Dennis SKETCHLEY Nelson Campbell was bummed he didn't get to hang out with you Carmel. 

I told him I just don't think you could've dealt with his Swastikas all over- pretty upsetting. 

Ken- Roseline-Tara-Anette- Laura -Mathew- please conference Carmel & Dr. ADAM CASH IN FOR GRANDE MEDIATION TODAY. 

STEVEN Lee (Chef) & DAVID (manager) ARE OUR WITNESSES on all court abuse at Idyology from Sheriff Chad Bianco, Jeremy Parsons, Enoche, Dan Godsnick & DA Michael Hestrin on court bribes for Judge Clark; via X's Atty Lori "Clark" Viviano & Ashby "Clark" Sorrenson. 

GRATZIA! 

I need my kids & assets now to move on with life. 

Merci!

Xoxo

NITYA 

Settle With:

Dr. Sunil Christopher Rawal

760-473-6054

Of Christs in Cambridge 

Physics PhD from MUM (MIU)

Spy for??? (Suspect Of Cambridge Alytica Politicizing) 

RawalVentures.com

RawalConsulting.com

1067 Neptune Ave. Encinitas, CA 92024

EncinitasBeachHome.com 

Lakshmi Tech 

Domestic Terrorism 

Cyber Warfare

Atty Abuse

Marine Domestic Violence

Complicit with DV help lines & duplicitous in hiding abuse; in-house atty Nazi court terrorists. 

Parent Estrangement

Broker Bribes

Hiding Assets

Stole Assets

Kidnapping Children

Mis-using Family Courts/ Marine Bribes

Real Estate/App/Business Fraud

American Traitor:

Weaponising Sandiego, Riverside & LA Divorce Courts With kicked out Physicist Daniel Smachtenberger & David Farley Kaplan. (Spiritual Center of North America- Heavenly Mountain- To Be Donated to TM.org) as stated in video in law abiding testimony in 1990's via TM teachers Teddy Hirsch & Fairfield, IA Sheriff Walter Devasier.

Attn:

ED NOYES:

Need Tahoe Sands Resort re-instated for & all reperations for Huntleys & Bernards. You & Len Labagh really undervalued it if you only got $300k divided evenly & fairly amongst you. It's worth over $50m.

Need Huntley share now. 

PS

Gosh I hope I didn't ramble. 

Uneducated officers & silencing mean attys accuse of this. Boys club surrounding DA that can't perform! Lol

So sick of topic & reporting endless Grievances. 

I'll write & publish another therapeutic song on subjects. Have many musicals.

I really hope you're listening and learning. 

Hopeless Institutions running country and wars with endless cintinuances. We've all had enough of court abuse. 

They don't know real estate nor family law and are seriously mentally incompetent and worn from too many innocent clients and their cruel playbooks. 

Elon is hiring over 20 real estate attys. 

Go back to school and get a higher degree before Oath Keeper Militia kill you and your family. 

Not fun or reccomended American defense team. They suck! 

It's overwhelming how many govn't institutions gang up on one in civil cold war by UK #Princeofpegging Marine Dr.s, Judges, investigators & soldiers "dicks!!"

[adventuresinclientservice]

Marking time

I’m looking at the two photographs you see here.  

The one at the top, from nearly five years ago when I last visited Manhattan (it can’t have been that long ago), includes my Ammirati & Puris colleagues Eddie Safdieh, Liz Deutch, Lori Goldfeder, me, my wife Roberta with Sophie ( along with a not-visible Alvie, who recently and sadly departed for the rainbow bridge), Carolyn Hauptman, and Ellen Wasserman and her honorary member husband Stuart Goldstein.  

The one below it, from a couple of Sundays ago, when the same group minus Carolyn – who recently decamped to Park City Utah (traitor!) -- gathered at the same downtown dining spot to consume pizza, drink too much wine, and tell stories.

Much of what we shared was more than a little sad, given so much has changed since all of us worked at one of the world’s great advertising enterprises.  Gone to the big advertising agency in the sky are Peter Rauch, Shelly Lanman, Howard Lesman, Mike Lotito, Ozzie Spenningsby, Brent Bouchez, and Tom Nelson, colleagues all, with a few denominated as treasured friends, each one a testament to the unforgiving flight of time.  We remember them, speak fondly of them, and miss them.

As I look at more recent photo, I search for signs of aging.  Do we look older?

For sure I do, with graying hair in full retreat, a gait noticeably slower as I proclaim I’m going to see, “a man about a moose,” and fissures from metal fatigue (it remains a mystery how I managed those crack-of-dawn mornings and it’s-approaching-midnight evenings nearly every week, logging miles to and from Houston).

Just about everyone else, however, is the veritable picture of Dorian Gray.  

Stu no doubt will look exactly the same ten years from now, just as he has from the previous ten years.

Ellen’s nails aren’t quite the brilliant shade of red I remember; we share a smile as she pre-empts my teasing about her struggles distinguishing between passive and active tense.  

Lori’s children were at best an idea when we worked together; Eddie informs me his commute to his new professional opportunity is far shorter than getting on a plane to see our client Compaq Computer.

More importantly, do we act older?

I might be in denial here, but to me the answer is “surely not.”

Still in attendance at our gathering was the same noisy, laugh-a-minute spirit that populated our band of colleagues when summoned for routine Friday morning bagels and coffee get-togethers. Of course there were many more of us then -- Steven Kaufman, Elizabeth Ebbert, Megan Skelly, Tomás Mendez, Mercedes Niz, dozens of others too numerous to mention -- but the spirit infusing those moments are pretty much as I am witnessing it now.

There even was a moment when I shared my long-held desire to write another book, which was met with ideas, including Liz’s suggestion I think about how people should build relationships in a world beset by a plague that will not relent, with in-person meetings severely curtailed if not eliminated.  Is it a book?  I’m not sure, but I welcome and am grateful for the suggestion.

As we hugged and dispersed, one question remained:  will we meet again?

I used to travel to New York with greater frequency, mostly to conduct workshops.  My trips to New York are almost absent now – a casualty of age (too old), relevance (too not), and reputation (too invisible) -- but my other- than-work reasons for returning home were never to visit the Statue of Liberty, or to look at the view from the top of the Empire State building, or to visit Broadway or the Temple of Dendur.  

It was to convene with friends.

So yes, we will.

[sxrrandomfanfics]

Idea for Familyswap AU, 'Lili's Lamentable Land' it takes place after the events of the Familyswap AU. And for the Lori and Opposum thing, I forgot that Harold was a rat.

If that's Lili's version of "Raz's Regretful Realm" ...

I do have constructs made for that. (SPOILERS FOR RRR AND FAMILY SWAP.)

China Doll (similar to Raz's Zombie) - Showing off Lili's past physical altercations with schools and groups she tried to hide (and mostly successfully hid) from her father. China Doll would be very polite, trying to avoid confrontation, and plays more as Lili knowing she should be nicer and following the rules. Based off of (what else) a China Doll.

Baby Doll (similar to Raz's Camper) - Showing off Lili's love language, mainly, as her body is covered in marker of different names she has been called that have stuck with her. Some are positive, like "snap pea" and "Dragon Sunny" (actually the word драгоценный), but others like "Freak," "Mole," "Traitor," and "Burden," decorate her as well. She's a lot of Lili's repressed feelings that she especially hides around her other selves. Based off of a toy baby made of a soft fabric and smooth plastic for the head, legs, and arms.

Monster Doll (similar to Raz's Jackalope) - Acts very similar to Jackalope, but instead of vague threats, she's a lot more blunt. Also has more of the Camper constructs that she bonded with, each being different monsters. Based off of the Monster High Dolls that could mix and match their body parts.

Plastic Doll (similar to Raz's Agent) - She is hyper determined to please people, constantly asking for new missions from others and rushing to deliver them. She likes making people happy, though her other selves seem to fear her. Based off of a Barbie Doll

And Broken Doll - Her design has her blinded by flowers as well as a... a flower that grows where her gunshot wound will be. Broken Doll represents all of Lili's repressed dreams. She didn't want to be a Psychonaut always, and sometimes she even questions if she still wants to be one. But she's so powerful. They need her. And she's got a good life that people would love to have. She just has to keep at what she's doing. Even if she'd rather be a florist. Based off of rotting toys/dolls.

#psychonauts family swap au #raz's regretful realm #rrr au #fsau