#Rick just put them in the same room at least once I’m BEGGING you

[bakedbananners]

Meeting of the minds 🏳️‍🌈

Bonus :P

#Rick just put them in the same room at least once I’m BEGGING you #pjo #mcga #magnus chase #alex fierro #fierrochase #nico di angelo #will solace #solangelo #my art #riordanverse

[aimless-imagines-for-fun]

Heat Up

Pairing :: Rick Flag x short/petite fem!Reader

Warnings :: 18+ Content, NSFW/SMUT, Size Kink

Word Count :: 2,439

Summary :: Rick isn’t too happy Digger tries to tease you

A/N :: I was gonna make a fic about someone else, but then I saw The Suicide Squad trailor and goddamn Joel Kinnaman. I love that tall beautiful bastard. Also, I’m not super happy about the title, but it was all I could come up with, meh

As Amanda Waller’s assistant, you had to deal with a lot daily. It wasn’t just about making sure she got her black coffee right when she walked into the building and managing her scheduled meetings. You had to ensure everything, and one, was in order for her. If someone told you they were running late, you forced them to be on time. You carefully inspected each report and corrected them before turning them into Waller. You got her any top-secret document she needed and kept it hidden. Hell, you even helped her with Task Force X, going through the list of criminals and writing down a thorough analysis of each potential member’s abilities.

Despite working for a woman who was heartless and calculating, you were as timid as a mouse. You rarely spoke to others unless you needed to. After working for Waller for several years, you found it best not to make any personal relationships with the people you met. She warned you most didn’t last very long and very few could be trusted.

One person who had stuck around though and  Waller seemed to even trust Colonel Rick Flag. You two started working for her around the same time, and yet, you could barely hold a conversation with the man. 

When you first met him, you constantly felt overwhelmed whenever you were left alone with him. It didn’t help that he appeared rather intimidating, with a serious expression almost always on his face, and towered over you. He was 6’2’’, and even in your favorite pumps, which added a good three inches to your height, you were still, smaller than him in frame.

However, regardless of your inability to speak around him, he continuously tried to start conversations with you and be friendly towards you. His constant attempts helped you grow used to him, but your face always heated up and you grew ridged when he got too close when you were alone. You didn’t understand the feeling, nor did you didn’t hate the feeling. It confused you.

-

Rick was absolutely perplexed by your meek behavior, especially since he’d witness before how assertive you could get when it came to getting something done for your shared boss. 

So it was no wonder he worried about you whenever Waller brought you along to see the Task Force X members. They were psychotic criminals, and you were like a slab of meat to some of them. You almost always wore a skirt or dress with a pair of pumps or oxford flats. Rick would be lying if he said you didn’t look perfect every hour of the day. 

He used to wonder if you were actually as innocent as you acted outside of work. Then, he saw you run as fast as you possibly could when Harley tried to give you what she called ‘wholesome safe dating advice’.

Since then, Rick did his best to make sure you were at least arm’s length away from any psycho. He even went as far as stepping right in front of you when someone got too close. Somehow, standing either beside you or a bit in front of you had become a habit of his when he noticed you were uncomfortable. 

Like now.

-

Waller sent you and Rick to a hidden ARGUS base hidden in the woods. Rick was obviously there to lead the team. You were there to give them their mission and an extensive overview.

There was a row of chairs for each Task Force X member to sit in. You stood in front of them with a large screen behind you, displaying various diagrams and photos for the mission. Rick stood off to the side, just behind all the seated members.

You looked away from your presentation, the projector turning off and the lights on. “So, are there any questions?”

Harley’s hand shot up. “Did you want me to continue giving you dating advice now or would you prefer I write it all down and give it to you later?”

Your eyes squinted and your lips curved downward just a bit. “What- no. That has nothing to do with the missions and I don’t need your advice…” Your voice trailed off, at a loss on how to deal with Harley.

Rick took a step forward. “Harley, stop it,” He warned her.

The blonde rolled her eyes. “Fine, but only because I think someone has a major crush on you (Y/N) and I wanna see if he makes a move.”

You were silent for a moment, processing what she had said before your eyes widened upon realization. Surprised, you couldn’t stop yourself from confirming what you had heard. “What did you say?”

“Nothing!” She sang, springing up from her seat.

“Hold on, now I’m interested too,” Floyd chimed in. “Now just who do you think it is that has a crush on lil ol’ (Y/N). I mean, no offense,” He glanced at you before turning his head back to Harley, “but she’s too skittery.”

Digger hopped up from his seat, shaking his head. “Nah mate, that adds on to her appeal.”

He started walking towards you and instinctively you started to back away until your back was against the wall. As he was getting closer, Digger’s hand started to extend, reaching out for you.

“See, it makes it fun to try and catch her.”

You shut your eyes, ready to scream the second he dared touching you. Instead of feeling what you thought would be cold dirty fingers, you heard Digger begin to plead.

“Woah! I was only joking around! Let me go!”

Eyes now wide, you saw Rick hoisting the Aussie up in the air by the collar of his shirt. If looks could kill, Digger’s head would be gone. 

“What are the rules?” He asked in a cold tone.

“No escaping and no disobeying,” Digger said quickly.

“Oh! Also no annoying or vexing you!” Harley added.

Rick still held Digger up. “And?”

Confused, Digger looked at Floyd for help who nodded his head towards you. “And-and no touching or teasing (Y/N)?”

Rick released Digger, throwing him towards the door. “Everyone out. We leave at zero one hundred hours.”

All of the criminals walked out of the room. Rick followed to make sure the door was closed once they were out, and locked the door.

You stepped away from the wall, straightening out your black pencil skirt. “Thank you for earlier Colonel Flag.”

“Rick. We’re alone,” He corrected you.

Around others at work, you addressed each other professionally: Colonel Flag and Ms. (L/N). Alone, Rick had started trying to get you used to calling him his name to be more comfortable around him.

“Right, thank you, Rick.”

You were about to clean up and reorganize your notes when you noticed Rick still seemed upset. He had the same annoyed expression he had when the criminals were around and his arms were crossed over his chest.

You cocked your head to the side. “Is something wrong?”

“What were you going to do?” He started walking forward.

“Pardon?”

“What were you going to do if he touched you?”

Your brows furrowed. Why was he asking this?  “Most likely yell at him and push him away.”

“And then?”

“And then what?” Now, you were starting to get annoyed.

Rick stopped a foot away from you, eyes piercing down at you. “What if he didn’t stop?”

“He wouldn’t dare continue.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you’ll keep me safe.”

Quickly, you realized what you said and turned your head to avoid his gaze. With a blush creeping onto your cheeks, your heart started to beat faster when he took one step closer to you.

Rick gently grabbed your chin with his thumb and index, turning your head to face him. You looked up at him with your large (E/C) eyes and that odd tingling feeling started up.

“What if I’m not there to keep you safe?”

“You always are.”

Like a flip was switched, Rick suddenly knew why he constantly wanted to make sure you were always alright. You worked for a harsh realist like Waller, but still naively believed good always prevailed. He wanted to make sure you never lost the blissful joy most did when they faced the harsh reality of the world.

His head lowered towards yours until his lips were pressed softly against yours. It was a simple kiss at first. Rick was unsure of how far he could go until you gently returned the kiss. Your hands went up to his chest and he lowered to your waist to pull you closer.

Wrapped in his arms, the odd tingling feeling turned into a warm little flame. You wanted to stay held like this forever. 

When he pulled away, you lightly gripped his shirt and tugged. “Rick, I want more.”

“Are you sure, because it might be sweet now, but if we keep going-”

Without letting him finish, you pressed another kiss against his lips. Again, you two sweetly kissed for a few minutes. Then, you felt one of his hands lower down to the round of your ass. A small gasp escaped you upon being lifted, your legs wrapped around him for support. Your skirt bunched up revealing your thighs as a result.

Rick pulled away from your lips, begging to trail down kisses to your neck.

You knew what you two were doing, more importantly, where, was inappropriate. Though with your mind clouded, you didn’t care. You only wanted to make sure you two wouldn’t be disrupted.

“The-the door,” Your murmured,

“Already taken care of,” He said, lips pressed against your neck.

Rick started walking slowly, carrying you over to the row of chairs. Before he took a seat, he put you back down on your feet.

Suddenly, the world spun and you were now seated on his lap, back pressed firmly against his chest. His arms hugged you close to him while he continued to kiss your neck.

Due to your skirt bunched up, you could feel his denim jeans below you. With heat growing in you, without thinking, you started to move your hips in his lap.

A small chuckle left him. One of his arms released its hold on you to start trailing up and down the side of your thigh. “Is this why you’re always so tense when we’re alone?” His hand moved to your inner thigh, coming closer to your core.

Your hands shot up to cover your blushing face. Was this why? You never quite understood why before, but it was starting to make sense now.

Rick’s other hand pulled your hands down. When he wrapped his arm around you again, he made sure to keep your arms down as well so you couldn’t hide your face.

“Come on now, don’t be shy. It’s just us.”

“Mmm!”

You bit your lip feeling him begin to rub your clit through your damp panties. You started to squirm a bit, a clear bulge forming and pressing up against you. He pushed the fabric to the side, inserting only one finger. You moaned softly, your legs spreading open and welcoming him. 

Rick pushed in his one finger as deep as he could before pulling it completely out and sticking it back in. This time, his finger curved in you and you felt your cunt tighten. When it did, he stuck a second finger in you. His fingers pumped at a consistent pace, and you kept your moans at a low volume. 

You could feel his hardened erection through his jeans pressing firmly against you now. With his fingers still pumping, you started moving your hips along to feel his covered length.

Rick let out a quiet curse, the tightness of his jeans too much. He let go of his hold on you to unbuckle his pants and release his cock.

“I tried to get you ready, but,” He pulled his fingers out completely, both hands now gripping your hips and lifting you up, “this might still hurt a bit.”

He started lowering you down on him and your eyes widened once he had gotten just the head of his dick in. The further he pushed in, the more pain you felt, your eyes growing glossy as a result. He lowered you until you were seated on him again and he was fully filling you up.

You could feel your pussy aching and tightening around him, never being filled up this much before.

“Christ you have a tight little cunt,” Rick gritted out.

Honestly, he surprised himself you managed to take all of him in, but he knew you were in pain. He wanted to give you time to adjust to his length, even if your clenching walls were driving him mad. Though, you could tell by his tight grip on your hips, staying still was driving him mad.

To distract yourself from the pain, you turned your head back to look up at him and pulled him down for another kiss. This time, his tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring the wet space.

During the kiss, you finally started bouncing up and down in his lap. He helped guide you, keeping you at a steady pace. 

With your tight pussy squeezing around him, Rick couldn’t keep the pace you had set. He started thrusting his pelvis up and moved you down on him faster. Eventually, you were no longer in any control while he fucked you. Then, he pulled you out completely and rammed back into you, slamming you down.

“Rick!” You screamed, a sensitive spot now hit.

He did it again and again, your screams growing louder each time he hit your sweet spot. 

Each of your breaths was growing heavier, and his fast pace was now ragged. He hit you once more and your head fell back against his chest, a loud moan leaving your lips. Your cunt clenching and finally releasing around him.

With just a few more thrusts, Rick’s hips bucked into you and he held you still for one moment so he could cum inside you. You felt his cock pulse with each hot spurt in you, causing a shiver. 

After, he moved you only a few more times slowly for you each to ride out your climaxes. Once done, he pulled you off of him and stood up.

Rick wrapped an arm around your shoulder, holding you close to him as you each steadied your breathing.

“So, I take it you’ll start acting normal now when we’re alone?” He asked you.

“I’ll probably heat up thinking about this.”

“I’m fine with that too.”

#joel kinnaman x reader #rick flag x reader #joel kinnaman smut #rick flag smut #rick flag fanfic #fick flag fanfiction #rick flag imagine

[quicksilverownsmysoul]

13 Going on 30 pt.1

A Peter Maximoff x reader fanfiction based off the movie 13 going on 30.

Summary:  You are so excited when the most popular girl in your school agrees to come to your 13th birthday party. But after a cruel prank you find yourself wishing that you were popular and older. By some miracle your wish is granted but isn’t as wonderful as it seems. You turn out to be a major jerk and you don't even talk to your best friend Peter anymore. Can you fix everything and get back to normal or are you stuck living like this forever 

Warnings: Angst and some suggestive content. But it’s mostly pure fluff. (Also peter has no powers in this and some scenes will be changed to better fit Peter and so I can be creative with it!)

Word Count: 2759

I am so excited to share this fic with y’all! 13 going on 30 is one of my favorite comfort movies and I thought that adding Peter Maximoff to it would make it even better. 

It was 1987 and your birthday party was next week. You were so excited you could barely contain yourself. You were turning 13, you were finally becoming a teenager. It was time to abandon all childish things and live a life of adventure and romance. One that all the movies told you was guaranteed once you became a teenager. You were writing in your notebook during lunch checking off the things you had already gotten for your birthday party. “Balloons, check. Party favors, check. The cutest outfit, check!” 

“Your best friend in the whole world who is getting you the best present. Check!” Peter added as he sat down across from you, dropping his lunch tray down on the table. You just rolled our eyes at him.“So I was thinking for this year we should go to the arcade then get ice cream.” Peter muttered his mouth full of the school’s signature sloppy joe sandwich. “Cause if I eat too much ice cream before we play that dance game you love, I'm gonna get sick again.” Some of the sandwich meat dripped out of the corner of his mouth. You handed him a napkin to wipe it, not even disgusted at this point. 

You and Peter had been best friends since birth. You had lived right next to each other as kids and you had done everything together. Learning how to walk, the loss of your first tooth, the first day of school. Always together no matter what. That’s what made you so nervous to tell him what was on your mind. “Actually, I was thinking of having a party this year.” You gave him a nervous smile. 

“What?!” He choked out in the midst of a coughing fit having nearly choked on his milk. Kids turned around to look at him and you shushed him. ”Peter stop shouting.” You scolded through gritted teeth. 

 He spoke up again this time, his voice back to it’s normal level. “But it’s always just us.”

You winced, you had figured he was going to respond like this. “I know, I know. But hear me out.” Peter sat back in his chair, arms crossed. “Lucy said she’d come to the party this year, and she’d bring Dylan! You know how much I like him.” You gushed and Peter narrowed his eyes at you. 

“How did you convince the most popular girl in school to come to your party?”

“Way harsh peter.” You reached over to his tray attempting to steal one of his fries. His hand slapped yours away. “You make it sound like she doesn't even know I exist.”

“That’s exactly what I’m implying, you and I are at the bottom of the social food chain and you know it.” He pushed his chair back even further, now only balancing on two legs. “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” You defended. 

He held your gaze with narrowed eyes as you tired your best to maintain eye contact. The minute you looked away he knew he had you. “I know you're lying (y/n). When you can’t look me in the eye you’re hiding something. Spill it.” 

You muttered really quickly. “Imayormaynothavedoneherhomeworkforthepastmonth.” 

He gave you an exasperated look. “What?”

“I said I may or may not have done her homework for the past month.”

He gave you a disapproving look. “Don’t look at me like that. “ You pouted. “It was the only way she was going to bring Dylan.” 

“I don't even know why you want that guy at your party. Or Lucy for that matter. They’re all a bunch of jerks.” Peter got up to put his tray away. You shoved your notebook back into your bag and got up to follow him. 

“You don’t even know them Peter.”

“Neither do you.” You frowned at him before turning on your heel and walking away from him. “(y/n) wait.” You sped up and he sped up with you. He caught up to you and grabbed your arm. You refused to look at him. 

Peter’s harsh look softened and his grip on your arm loosed. “Look.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “ I just don’t want you getting hurt.”

You gave him a soft smile. “I won’t especially not with my best friend around.” You bumped your shoulder into his. He returned your smile after a while and your face lit up. “It’s going to be fun!” 

“If you say so.”

On the day of your party you couldn't even sit still for a single second. Pacing by the front door waiting for Lucy and her friends to arrive. The doorbell rang and you threw open the door, but your smile dropped when you saw it was just Peter. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Geez, it's good to see you too.” He pushed his way into your house as you closed the door behind him. 

“Sorry I just thought it was Lucy.”

“And you were disappointed when it was me.” He joked making himself at home on your couch.

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“No, I get it. Suddenly you get new friends and I’m old news. Hung out to dry. Dead and buried without a moment to grieve.” He milked his performance trying to make you feel guilty. You sat down next to him knocking his feet off your mother’s coffee table. 

“Shut up.” You laughed, he watched you and smiled. You noticed the keyboard strapped to his chest and groaned. “Did you have to bring your keyboard?”

“Duh. It’s part of your gift.” 

“I hope that’s not all you got me.”

“Hey!” He mocked being hurt by your words. “And it’s not by the way.” He sat up and made his way to your front door. “I gotta go get it, I left it on your doorstep.” He opened the door and was gone for a minute, making you anxious with anticipation. He poked his head through the doorway and a sweet smile plastered on his lips. “Close your eyes.”

You quickly covered your eyes with your hands. You heard Peter’s sneakers shuffling as he made his way closer to you. “No peeking.”

“I’m not!”

“Yes you are, I can see you looking through the slits of your fingers.” You giggled at the accusation and squeezed your eyes even tighter. You felt the couch dip from his weight as he sat back down next to you. You feel his hands close around yours, and the small action making you blush. He carefully removed your hands from your eyes. “Ta-da!” 

Sitting on the coffee table front of you was a huge handmade pink doll house. “I decided to make you your own (y/n) dream house.” Your eyes widened taking it all in. It was beautiful.

“Petey did you make all this?” You asked, heart swelling at the sweet action. 

���Yeah,” He admitted a little embarrassed. He scooted closer to the table. “See that’s you in your bubble bath. Reading your favorite magazine” It was a Barbie doll with a picture of your face tape on it. You giggled.” And there’s your room with the giant closet you’ve always wanted and a huge stereo collection. I know how much you love music. And there’s that bum Rick Springfield, sitting on the couch.” As you took in all the details you fell even more in love with the house. Peter had put so much time into this and you adored it.

 “And uh, there’s me.” He smiled sheepishly. A picture of him was glued to a piece of cardboard. His picture was making that ‘I’m watching you’ gesture at Rick Springfield. “I’m making sure that creep keeps his hands to himself. He’s only here for his musical talents, nothing else.” You smiled at him. He smiled back and for a second you could have sworn he glanced down at your lips. “Oh! I almost forgot.” He pulled out a red packet and shook it lightly. “Wishing dust.” 

You scooted closer to him so you guys could read the package together. “It says wishing dust knows what’s in your heart of hearts. They’ll make all your dreams come true.” He whispered the last part, his eyes cast downward as you watched him rip open the package. He stood up and sprinkled the dust down on the house. You watched in wonder as all the different colors rained down together and decorated the whole house in a pretty shimmer. Your eyes met his and you could feel yourself tearing up. He was so sweet and he didn't even know how much this meant to you. 

Just then the doorbell rang and you jumped to your feet. “They’re here!” You wiped away the tears that threatened to fall really quickly before dashing to the door.

“Yay.” Peter cheered sarcastically. You ignored him and sprinted to open the door. Lucy was there along with her friends and Dylan in the back. She was wearing a neon pink dress, the same one you had begged your mom to buy you last week. She had said no obviously. 

“Hi Lucy! Thanks for coming!” She just gave you a tight smile and let herself in. She looked around your living room and a sneer made its way to her face when she saw Peter on your couch fiddling with his keyboard. 

“Sup Freak.” Lucy shot Peter a sickly sweet smile.

“Sup slut.” Peter replied, mirroring her smile. You felt your mouth open in shock and shot him a deadly look. Lucy just pressed on trying to get a reaction out of Peter.

“I see your hair is still as gray and as ugly as ever.”

“At least my hair is naturally this color. From the look of your roots you should really look into getting a better stylist. You ain’t fooling anybody honey.” 

They continued to glare at each other until Lucy finally broke away from his gaze and turned to face you. “Where is this party happening anyway.” 

“It’s um downstairs, in the basement.” You motioned towards it, Lucy and her friends made their way down the steps. Peter followed them carrying your dollhouse, but you held your arm out to stop him. “What was that? Why were you being such a jerk?” 

“She started it!” 

You huffed. “I know, but it’s my party so please try to be nice to her.” He opened his mouth to say something but then decided against it. He pushed past your arm and went down the stairs to the basement. Taking two at a time. 

“So this is it.” Lucy picked at the neon colored table cloth. You didn't know what to say as she looked around. “What are we going to do anyway?”

“Well we could play twister, Peter is really good at it.” Peter gave a small salute in acknowledgement as they glanced towards him. “Or we could watch a movie.”’ You said excitedly, making your way over to the VHS rack.” I have a lot of good ones.``

“Lame.” Lucy announced and her friends echoed in agreement. 

You felt embarrassed of thinking that they would enjoy such childish things. “Why don't we play a new game?” Lucy suggested.

“What kind of game?” Peter asked, suspicion laced in his tone.

“A fun one.” She made her way towards you and placed her hand on your shoulder as she turned to address Peter. “Not that you would know anything about fun Maximoff.”

“Not that you would know anything about fun.” Peter mocked back in a high pitched tone.

  “Real mature.” Peter stuck his tongue out at her.

She turned back to you. “Let’s play seven minutes in heaven.” She leaned in even closer. “You can go first (y/n), and I think you’ll like who you get.” She glanced back and you followed her gaze towards Dylan. He shot you a smile and you felt yourself blush. 

All of a sudden you heard your mom. “(y/n)!” Your mother yelled down the stairs. “Your cake is here come and get it!”

“Peter go get it.” Lucy commanded.

“What? No.” He scoffed. You met his gaze and shot him a pleading look. “Fine.” He put the dollhouse away in your closet on the top shelf and made his way to the stairs. “Thanks Petey.”

“Yeah, yeah.” 

Lucy took off her scarf from around her neck and placed it over your eyes, knotting it tightly in the back. She led you towards the closet and you felt your heart rate pick up. You could hear the giggles of her friends as they closed the door. You stood there in the darkness waiting for Dylan to come in. It had been a while since Lucy had led you to the closet, you sat down putting your arms around your knees hugging them close. 

Peter came back down the stairs carrying your cake, as he was coming down Lucy was going up the stairs, her friends trailing behind her. “Hey where are you going?” 

She didn't answer, just smiled at him placing a hand on his shoulder. “(y/n) is waiting for you in the closet.” He gave her a confused look, he didn't know he was part of this game. Lucy and her friends continued up the steps, Dylan swiped your cake with his finger smearing the icing and eating it. Peter yanked it away and continued down into the basement. Madonna was playing softly in the background, he put the cake on the table and made his way to the closet, opening the door. He saw you sitting there  on the floor, you upon hearing the door squeak open were smiling up at him. “I didn't think you were going to come.”

He nervously smiled back at you and sat down on the floor across from you. You reached your hands out towards him. “Where are you?” He let his hands find yours, fingers intertwined in one another. He had held your hand before but this time it felt so different. He saw you lean in and he did the same. He was inches away from your lips when you whispered. “Oh Dylan.” He pulled back abruptly. 

“It’s not Dylan, It’s Peter.” You yanked your hands away from his and tore the scarf away from your eyes.

 “What are you doing here?” You felt panic take over you. “Where is Dylan?”

“He left. They all did, no one is here.” You stood up and saw that Peter was right. Your snack table stood untouched and Lucy, and Dylan were no where to be found. You immediately turned on Peter. “What did you do?” 

Peter looked at you in disbelief. “Nothing!”

“Yes you did!” You were screaming at him at this point.

“I just went to get your cake!” He screamed back. 

“Get out.” you whispered. Peter looked at you, clearly hurt that you were pushing him away. “GET OUT!” You screamed as you pushed him out of the closet. 

“(y/n) wait!” He tried holding the door open as you desperately tried shutting it. “(y/n) let me talk to you!” 

“Peter stop.” You cried. 

“(y/n)-”

“No!” You managed to shut the door and lock it. You sat back down on the floor and put the blindfold back over your eyes.

“(y/n) Please!” You could hear Peter on the other side of the door even with your hands covering your ears. “Please come out!”

“I hate you!” You screamed as his voice stopped. 

“You don’t mean that.” He muttered, tears of his own threatening to spill.

“Yes I do! I hate you! I hate me! I hate everything!” You were so angry and embarrassed and that you really thought Lucy was your friend. And that you were going to get to kiss Dylan.

“(y/n) what are you talking about?”

“I want to be thirty!” You wailed through your tears.

“Just let me play you this song.” Peter yelled back. He slung his keyboard over his head and started to mess with it trying to find the right key. “It’ll make you feel better!” 

You ignored him continuing to cry. “I wanna be thirty! I wanna be thirty and flirty and thriving.” You swing your head back shaking the shelf behind you. The wishing dust from the dollhouse fell down all around you but you didn't even notice. You could faintly hear Peter playing some tune on his keyboard but you ignored it. Just muttering through your tears over and over how you wanted to be thirty, flirty and thriving. At the moment you wanted to be anywhere but there.

#quicksilver xmen #quicksilver xmen x reader #quicksilver x y/n #quicksilver x you #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver #peter maximoff imagine #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff #xmen fanfiction #marvel x reader #marvel x y/n #marvel fanfiction #13 going on 30 #13 going on 30 au

[walkerwords]

“The Savior Sessions” Part 17 of 33 - Negan x GN!Reader

IMAGE CREDIT: AMC

SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: Following the fallout of their argument, the reader is still trying to deal with their thoughts about Negan. Meanwhile, Daryl, Connie, Lydia, and Henry arrive at Alexandria. With everything going on and the fair only a day away, there are decisions to be made.

Word Count: 4372

Warning: Swearing

Song I Wrote To: “First” by Cold War Kids

Note: Another filler before our big part which is up next...I am putting all the fair stuff in one part and I MEAN EVERYTHING. Part 19 will be the blizzard so Part 18 is going to be A LOT. *ALL ASL IN ITALICS*

---------

Something felt different when you woke up. 

Your mother always used to say that people could feel it in the air when something was to come. You never put much stock in her ramblings, but that particular quote was sticking in your mind as you sat up in your bed.

Sunlight was streaming in through the window and you could hear the faint sounds of Alexandrians starting their days. The nightmares had been worse than usual during the night before and after waking up for the second time, you had to nearly restrain yourself from venturing out of your house and towards another. 

The fact that Negan was the first person you thought of when fear entered your body made you feel even more confused. You were still furious with him, that much was clearly evident, but he was still there in the back of your mind. He was in your dreams, your everyday thoughts, and while you should have been focusing on Alpha and Daryl’s rescue plan, Negan was all you could think about. 

After getting ready for the day, you strapped on Paul’s sword and headed from your home and towards the meeting hall. It still felt odd to consider the sword yours even though Aaron had given it to you personally. You began to wonder if imposter syndrome extended towards melee weapons. 

Walking down the main road, you saw Judith with her brother heading towards the makeshift graveyard. You knew where she was going and you also knew that Judith loved to tell stories she heard from her mom about Carl. While Judith didn’t have many memories of her big brother, she could still remember what it felt like to be carried by him and how he cared for her. Carl had been there since the beginning to look after her and now it was Judith’s turn to do so for RJ.

Your gaze lingered on them for a bit before your eyes caught a commotion at the main gate. You could see Michonne standing on the watch post, looking down. With a furrowed brow, you began to walk forward when a movement out of the corner of your eye caught your attention. 

Stopping in front of the Grimes’ house, you looked to see Negan leaning against the bars of his window. He looked at you with those same beautiful hazel eyes and determined set of his jaw. You stared back, remembering the last conversation you had had with the man. Negan had nearly begged you for forgiveness and you weren’t sure if you were actually willing to give it. At least, not yet. He went to say something when the gate slid open up ahead. Looking back, you were stunned at what you saw. 

Daryl, Lydia, Connie, and to your ultimate surprise, Henry, were walking towards you. Dog trotted in front of his master, his tail up as he noticed you. When they got closer, you finally saw the state that your friend was in.

“Daryl?” you asked, shocked to see blood, Living blood, on his face and clothes. “What the hell happened to you?” you asked as you left Negan behind and ran up to him. 

“Kids need some food,” was all Daryl said. You then noticed that Henry was limping.

“They also need medical attention,” you said and then waved down Siddiq who was walking alongside Rosita. “Come on,” you said and then reached for Lydia who was shaking slightly. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, but you just shook your head. 

“Not your fault, kid,” you said, brushing the hair from her face. “Let’s get you looked at.” 

As Siddiq took a look at Henry and Lydia, Laura stood watch at Michonne’s request. You stood on the porch of the infirmary with Daryl, Michonne, and Connie. While your signing was still a bit rough, you could get by well enough for the time being. You had taught Deaf students when you were a teacher and you found that your knowledge of the language was slowly coming back to you. 

“Are you hurt?” you asked Connie. She shook her head and then made the “D” letter with her right hand and dragged it over her eye. You then realized that was the Name Sign she had given to Daryl, most likely due to his scar. You thought it was fitting. 

Connie was telling you that Daryl was hurt, but you knew that he wouldn’t even let you clean his wounds until he knew the kids were okay. 

“Someone wanna tell me what happened?” you asked as you leaned against the side of the house, your ankles crossed. 

“Beta happened,” Daryl said as he matched your position on the other side. 

“Alpha’s man,” Connie signed and you translated for Michonne and Laura, who was listening in the doorway. 

“So, it’s not just Alpha we have to worry about? Great,” you said with a deep sigh. 

“Asshole is massive,” Daryl said. “Threw me around like I was nothin’ and didn’t hesitate at all to try and kill us. Lydia says he’s the best fighter they got.” 

“Fantastic,” you groaned. 

“He’s the one that captured Henry,” Daryl explained. 

“Which brings me to my question,” Michonne said. “Why the hell was Carol’s son out there in the first place?”

“He went after her, didn’t he? After we traded her for Alden and Luke?” you asked and Daryl nodded. 

“Takes after his damn mother,” Daryl muttered, but you could hear a bit of admiration in his tone. Which was how he usually sounded when he spoke about Carol. 

“How’d you get her back?”

“Got into their camp,” Daryl said. “There’s a lot more of these assholes than we thought. We couldn’t see all of ‘em, but there are enough to make me nervous.” 

“You being nervous, makes me nervous,” you said pushing off the wall.

“Where’s he now?” Michonne asked. “Beta?”

“Threw his giant ass down an elevator shaft,” Daryl said. 

“So, he’s dead?” Daryl looked between you, Connie, and Michonne and you could see the fatigue weighing on him and also, the anger.

“For all our sakes,” he said. “He better be.”

------

Once the Doc had cleared both Lydia and Henry, you invited the teenagers as well as Connie and Daryl to stay in your house for the time being.

You knew that Daryl wanted to keep moving in case Alpha had sent out more scouts, but you also knew that they needed to take a breather, even if it was just until nightfall.

You could hear Connie sitting and playing with Dog outside while Daryl spoke with Henry. You knew how important Henry was to Carol and because of that, Daryl would do anything to protect the kid. 

However, right now, he seemed to be taking on the role of disappointed uncle. He was using his “parent voice” as you liked to call it. He used to use it a lot with Carl and then when Judith would cause trouble years before. Beth once joked that he had become the father of the group. Daryl had just rolled his eyes, but you knew that meant a lot to him. It told him that all of you, even Rick, relied on him. 

Lydia was sitting in the living room when you found her. Sitting next to her on the couch, you tried to see the resemblance between her and her mother. It was there slightly, but only in looks. You couldn’t see the hatred that you saw in Alpha. However, you did see a small bit of resilience and that only told you how much she had to adapt to live within the Dead. 

“I’m sorry,” you began. Lydia looked at you in confusion. “I said a lot of horrible things to you when we had you locked up. I made assumptions and it was unfair.”

“I didn’t really give you much of a chance to trust me,” Lydia said, turning her attention back to her hands in her lap. 

“Then I guess we both need fresh starts,” you said and then offered her your hand. “Hi, I’m (Y/N).” Lydia hesitantly took your hand and gave you a small smile. 

“I’m Lydia,” she said and you smiled at her. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Lydia.” When you dropped her hand, she glanced back towards where Daryl and Henry were. 

“I’m sorry about your friend,” Lydia said, talking about Jesus. “And because my mom took your other friends.”

“We got them back,” you reminded her. “I just wish we could have gotten them back without throwing you back to the wolves.”

“Yeah, then maybe Henry wouldn’t have gone after me and gotten hurt,” she said sadly. 

“Maybe not, but Henry is as stubborn as his mother and as loyal as his father. Trust me when I say that he doesn’t need an excuse to make dumbass decisions.”

“What’s his mom like?” Lydia asked and you paused, trying to figure out how to put Carol into words. 

“I’ve known his mom for a very long time. Actually since the beginning of all this,” you began. “Carol has been through a lot and she has lost a lot of people to get to the place she is right now. She has lost children, especially. Carol isn’t a person whom you need to be afraid of if you have good intentions.”

“And if you have bad intentions?” Lydia asked carefully.

“Let’s just say that when she wants to be, Carol can be even more terrifying than your mother. The difference is, is that Carol’s rage and her skills come from love and the need to protect her family.”

“You don’t think my mom is like that?” 

“I don’t know your mother,” you admitted. “Though I have known people like her and if I had to guess what she values most, I would say it’s power and survival. Alpha seems to be the person who would sacrifice her young to protect the pack and that is why I don’t want you to go back to her.”

“You don’t even know me,” Lydia said. “You only know what you’ve seen.”

“ ‘To perceive is to suffer’,” you quoted with a smile. Lydia’s brow furrowed. “Aristotle said that,” you explained. 

“Who?” 

“I’ll tell you about them later. Point is,” you said, taking her hand, “I only saw what I wanted to see because I thought that suffering was better than trying to see your side of everything.”

“So, what does this mean?” Lydia asked. 

“It means that I am not going to let anything happen to you. Especially at the hands of your mother.”

----------

Later that day, Michonne found you. 

Daryl was inside with the others when she came walking towards your house. She gestured you down off the porch as she got closer. “What’s up?” you asked as you approached. 

“We’re doin’ the fair,” Michonne explained. 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Michonne nodded and then let out a heavy sigh. 

“Henry said that The Kingdom is failing. They need this. Judith recently reminded me that we need each other and that we need to start thinking about the others again.”

“Wise girl,” you complimented and she smiled.

“Just like her dad,” Michonne said. 

“Michonne, I want to help Kingdom, you know I do. I would do anything to help Carol and Ezekiel, but what if Alpha finds out that we have her kid? What then? Not to mention that Daryl attacked Beta and we don’t even know if he’s alive or not.”

“We’ll deal with it, just as we’ve dealt with everything else.”

“We’ve never seen anything like this before and you know it.”

“We can’t ignore them anymore, our friends,” she explained. “I know this is going to be rough, but we’ve won wars before.”

“So you do think this is going to end in a fight, then?” 

“It always does, (Y/N),” Michonne said. 

“I know you don’t trust her, Lydia, I mean,” you said. 

“You’re right, I don’t,” she said. 

“There is a lot of shit goin’ on right now, but we have to protect her just like we once protected Enid when she had nobody.”

“Enid isn’t the daughter of a killer,” Michonne reminded you. 

“No, she’s not, but she could have gone down a different path. Just because she found Alexandria, that doesn’t mean that she couldn’t have turned for the worse. If it wasn’t for Maggie and… and Carl, who knows what would have happened to her.” Michonne was quiet for a moment. 

“You’re saying that Henry is Lydia’s Carl?” 

“I’m saying that she’s a scared kid who needs everyone in her corner to keep her safe and help her make the right decision.”

“And that’s gonna be you?” 

“I’m gonna damn well try to be.”

---------

It was night when Daryl and the others were getting ready to leave. 

You met them at the gate as Connie helped Henry balance on his staff, trying to get a rhythm going for their travels. You figured they were going to be headed to Kingdom, but you didn’t know where Daryl would be going after that. Lydia stood by, watching the duo with a smile. 

When Daryl noticed you standing off to the side, he joined you. “We didn’t get a chance to talk. Not really,” he said. 

“There will be other times,” you said with a bump to his shoulder. 

“Judith talked to me,” he said.

“Yeah?” you asked, avoiding the look he was giving you. 

“You should know that she hears a lot more than ya think.”

“Meaning she heard the argument Negan and I had,” you realized. Daryl grunted in agreement. “Just great.”

“She’s worried about ya, thinks you’re not gonna forgive him,” Daryl said. 

“Judith should mind her own business,” you muttered.

“Are ya? Going to forgive him?”

“What would be the point? The situation is gonna still be the same. Negan is gonna be locked up and I’ll be out trying to fight another battle that we shouldn’t be in in the first place.”

“Self-pity don’t look good on ya,” Daryl said.

“That’s not—”

“Ya, it is,” he interrupted. “I already told ya my thoughts on you and him. I still stand by them, but ya gotta start usin’ your brain, Kid.” You smiled at the nickname. It was something he had called you when you first met, even though you were around the same age as Maggie.  

“I thought the heart was supposed to make these kinds of decisions?” 

“Nah, ya gotta use both. Don’t believe that poetic bullshit.” 

“Are you sure you weren’t a motivational speaker before all this?” you joked. 

“Not unless ya count me yellin’ at Merle to get his shit together when the son of a bitch was high and chasin’ birds through the streets.” 

“I do,” you decided. Daryl snorted but stayed quiet. “You’re leavin’ with Lydia after you get Henry home, aren’t you?”

“It’s for the best,” he said. 

“Is it?” 

“People don’t trust her,” Daryl said. 

“That’s not her fault.” 

“No, it ain’t,” he said, “but I’m not about to leave her vulnerable to people who don’t want her around. Maybe removing Lydia from the equation will make Alpha leave everyone else alone.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” you sighed. 

“I gotta try.”

“I know,” you said and then leaned into him. He put his arm around and you savored the small moment. “Please be careful.” 

“I will,” he said and then he pushed back to see your face. “Come with me.”

“What?”

“I know ya have been lost for a while. Judith mentioned you isolate yourself. Maybe you just need a break.”

“What happened to me needing to figure out my shit here?”

“Fuck that,” Daryl said. “I ain’t always right.”

“I’m needed here, D,” you said. 

“By who? Michonne? Or Negan?”

“Judith,” you said. “RJ, Laura, Scott, Gabriel, Siddiq, and Ro who are about to be parents,” you reminded him. “I can’t just run away.” He caught your double meaning. 

“Ya mean like I did?” he asked, but there was no venom in his voice. 

“I never blamed you for leaving after Rick, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think that you should have been around more.” He nodded, understanding where you were coming from. 

“So, that’s a no?”

“Yeah, D, it’s a no,” you said and then sighed, but pulled you back into him, gripping you tight. 

“Remember what I said, Kid, don’t try to fix him. We are the way we are and if you somehow found something you care about in a man like that, don’t try to find a reason to ruin it.”

“I thought people could change,” you said into the side of his neck. 

“They can, but deep down, there’s always that one thing that makes them, them,” he said. 

“I don’t know about that.”

“I do,” he whispered. “Yours is that you don’t give up. Never have, and I don’t think ya ever will. I’ll see ya soon, I ain’t gonna just disappear again.” 

“Promise?”

“Ya, I promise.”

“Good,” you said and then squeezed him once more before he shouldered his bow and with a quick whistle had Dog running after him. You actually believed him this time that you would see him soon and that was comforting. Connie waved to you as the gate slid closed and you were only hoping that whatever they had planned, they would get through it alive.

---------

The next day, it was early and Alexandria was saddling up to head out for The Kingdom. 

You found yourself heading to Aaron’s, trying to muster up the courage to speak to him. You missed him and you knew that whatever was going on between the two of you, you needed to deal with it before it got worse. 

Knocking on the door and Gracie answered. “Hey Gracie,” you greeted. “Is your dad home?”

“Daddy! (Y/N)’s here!” she shouted behind her and then turned back to you with a large grin on her face. “He’s getting things ready for the fair,” she explained. 

“Are you excited?” you asked as you heard Aaron’s footsteps approaching. 

“Yes!” she said, jumping up and down a bit. Aaron appeared behind her, his eyes narrowed at you on his front porch. 

“Hey,” you said. 

“Gracie, why don’t you go finish putting your bag together?” Aaron suggested. 

“Okay! Bye, (Y/N)!” she said, as exuberantly as always. You didn’t know where she got all her energy from. When she was out of sight, Aaron turned his attention back to you.

“Can we talk?” you asked and he hesitated. “Please.” With a sigh, he gestured to the bench on his porch and you quickly took a seat, eager to say your piece. Aaron was quiet as you took a breath. “Aaron, I’m sorry.” 

“For what?” he asked. 

“Being an asshole and not being a very good friend these past couple of months. I’ve been confused and angry and I have been taking it out on you instead of dealing with it.”

“I guess that’s one way to put it,” He said with a snort. He then turned his gaze towards the Grimes house and what was beneath it. “I just hate that you stick up for him.” 

“I know.”

“And what’s worse is that I can see that he makes you happy. I don’t know what to do with that, (Y/N).”

“I don’t know what to do with it either. To be honest, I don’t know what to do with any of it. The last thing I ever expected was to care about someone after the world ended, let alone someone like him.”

“Then why do you?” he asked, genuinely curious. “Why Negan?”

“I don’t know, Aaron. I guess maybe because I always felt misunderstood and like an outcast. I’ve done things I’m not proud of and I didn’t think I was worthy of forgiveness…”

“You think we should be forgiving him?” Aaron asked, raising his brows. 

“No, because I know none of you will. I don’t even know if I could ever forgive him for what he did to Glenn and Abraham. I don’t know if I could forgive a lot of the things he did.”

“What do you know?” he asked. 

“I know that whatever I feel for him is my business and something I need to figure out with him and only him. It’s something I would like to do without the entire town ready to pick up torches and pitchforks.” Aaron laughed at that. 

“I don’t think we’d go that far,” he said. 

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” you said. “Negan isn’t perfect, but he’s not evil. There is good in him and I’ve seen it, but I need you to know that I don’t expect you to see it too.” 

“Good, cause I won’t,” he said shortly. 

“I know you hate him,” you continued, “but I don’t and I need time to figure out why.”

“Are you asking for my permission?”

“No, absolutely not,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “I’m just telling you that I don’t plan to turn my back on him, at least, not just yet.” Aaron nodded, his eyes staring at his boots. His right hand fiddled with the straps on his prosthetic as he thought about your words.

“Why are you mad at him?” Aaron said and you paused, not expecting the question.

“Who says I’m mad at him?” 

“I know you,” he said. 

“God, I really wish people would stop saying that,” you said, rubbing at the back of your neck.

“I’ll tell you what,” Aaron said. “I’ll stop being an ass to you if you stop being an ass to me, deal? I think we’ve lost enough already to not have each other’s backs. I don’t need any more regrets.” You reached over and offered your hand. He took it and squeezed it in his own. The loss of Paul was still weighing on both of you as if it had happened only hours before rather than days. Aaron was trying and so, you decided you should too.

“Okay, I’ll take that deal.” 

“Maybe you just need to take a breather,” Aaron said. “And I mean a real break. One where you’re not dealing with Walkers, Whisperers, or missing friends.”

“Are you suggesting I take a vacation?” you asked with your brows raised. 

“Come with me to the fair,” he offered. “Help us with Kingdom. I know you turned Michonne down, but I am willing to convince you.”

“How are you planning to do that?” you asked. Aaron then smiled at you. 

“I think I overheard Enid say that Alden has been singing more often. How much do you wanna bet he’s gonna get roped into singing a verse or two?” Aaron sent you a wink and you knew that there was no point in arguing with him. 

“Fine, I’ll go,” you relented. “But first, I gotta talk to someone.”

--------

Before you headed out with the caravan, you made a final stop. 

“Here to yell at me some more?” Negan said as you opened the door.

“Do you want me to?” you asked, approaching the bar. 

“Not particularly,” he said as he sat up on his cot. 

“I’m going to the fair,” you announced. He stood up at that. 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asked, concerned. 

“Seems to be. Kingdom needs this and so do I,” you said. 

“I don’t like the thought of you going out there with those freaks running around,” he admitted. 

“I can handle it,” you assured him but then decided to reveal something else. Something you had been careful not to let anyone else know. 

“What is it?”

“They terrify me, Negan. These Whisperers are absolutely horrifying. You asked me not too long ago when the last time I was afraid and I said it was the day Rick died. Now? Now, it’s when I saw those...people walk with the Dead and look at us as if we were the ones who weren’t alive. It was when we were in that graveyard as they killed Jesus... I don’t know what to do with those feelings.” 

Negan thought for a moment, almost moved by the fact that you had decided to come to him with this. Especially considering how your last conversation had gone. All he wanted to do was reach for you and take you into his arms, but he knew had lost those privileges the second he snuck beyond the walls. Instead, he went back to the roots of your communication. He offered a quote. 

“‘I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it’,” he said quietly and you recognized it immediately.

“Nelson Mandela,” you whispered. 

“He was brave, just as you are. I don’t care what they think or what they see. You are stronger than them and the only way they win is if you let them,” Negan said. “Look at me,” he ordered and you did. There was a fire in his eyes, but not the one that was usually there. It wasn’t one of tenderness, but of steel resolve. “Don’t give her an inch. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. 

“I know you don’t trust me, but I trust you, (Y/N). Help your friends and then come back. We have a lot to talk about.” You nodded, trying to memorize the words that he said, letting them cement in your mind. 

Turning to go, you paused in the doorway. “Promise me something,” you said, looking back over at him. 

“Anything.”

“There’s a line, the one that separates us from becoming like them,” you said and he knew you meant Alpha and her people. “If you ever see me about to cross that line…”

“I’ll drag you back even it means I have to take down every last one of them to do it,” he swore, that fire lighting up his eyes even more. You nodded, grateful for his response. “(Y/N),” he said, stopping you one last time. 

“Yeah?”

“I promise I’ll be here when you come home,” he said and with those words, your heart felt an ounce lighter. 

“I know.”

TAGS:

@lucillethings @stark-dreams @amaroho​ @thanossexual​

@yes-sir-hotchner​ @boom-bunny​ @delusionalteenagewhispers​

@scootankle​ @ritajammer21​ @writteriguess​ @tea-atfive​ @jennydehavilland​ @waspyyy​ @yespleasejayhalstead​ @fmunegan @hoemadegrace​ @pulplorrd​ @writingdead0829

#negan x reader #the savior sessions #savior sessions #negan imagine #Negan #the walking dead #twd imagines #twd #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead fanfic #walkerwords #twd imagine series #the walking dead x reader

[wreckofawriter]

Shadows

Pairing: Carl Grimes x reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Blood, gore, killing, fluff ending

Summary: You cant be in the prison, so you make stupid decisions and Carl camt stand it

A/n: I tried to write a request ended up with this instead. Idk why, but here we are, I re-write the ending 4 times and it's still cringy

    You felt your heart pound against your chest, your hands were thick with sweat and blood. You held a knife so drenched in crimson you couldn’t see its original silver hue. Your arms ached as you plunged the weapon into another rotting skull. The walkers were never-ending. Their snarls echoed around you as you turned to run. A call pulled your attention and you turned hearing gunshots. Carl stumbled over a rut and tumbled backward firing his gun into the air. You screamed his name running towards him, but he only got further away as his yells continuted. You watched as a walker bit into his arm a scream ripping from his mouth.

   

You sat straight up in your bed with a whimper. Your face was sticky with tears and you were covered in a cold sweat. You took in a shaky breath rubbing your eyes and whipping your cheeks with the sleeve of your shirt. You tucked your feet from underneath the cot you were seated on, the cement floor cool through your socks. You grabbed a flannel from beside your bed that didn’t belong to you, slipping it on before grabbing a pair of leather boots, lacing them up. You moved from behind the sheet hiding your cell grabbing a knife and moving outside. 

You didn’t wear a watch, but you guessed it to be just after midnight. The night air was chilled, you could see your short breaths in front of you. The moon was almost full, its light casting cold black shadows around you. You stopped, leaning your back to the fence and slipping your eyes closed. You could hear the far away groans of the dead at your gates. A shuffle of footsteps brought you from your thoughts, your eyes snapping open. You turned to peer through the chain links to find what was making the noise. 

You swung, feeling a hand on your shoulder. 

“Shit y/n!” Carl cussed ducking the knife. 

You let out a breath, “Christ Carl, don’t sneak up on me.” 

“Trust me I won’t do that again.” He mumbled standing beside you, wind rippling your clothes. It was quiet for a moment, the rustle of leaves in the cold air. “Can’t sleep?” Carl asked turning towards you.

You shrugged crossing your arms to fight the cold, “Dreams.” You said simply.

Carl paused his eyes still locked on you as you continuted to look out at the courtyard. You could feel goosebumps rising on your arms. 

“You wanna talk about them?” He suggested scuffing his boots on the ground. 

You shrugged again, “Not much to talk about.” 

Carl bit his lip bringing his hand to his tousled hair. The wind picked up around you and he watched as you drew your arms closer around you, “I think I’ve watched you die seven times now.” he mumbled your eyes snapping to his own. “My dad around the same and Judith too many to count.” he paused, “I lost track of how many times I’ve shot my mom.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, still peering through the metal into the deep black, “It’s usually my parents.” you started, “They die in front of me over and over again, I just watch again and again already know what’s coming.” You stood silent for a breath, “It was you tonight.” 

Carl nodded solemnly, his eyes on his feet.

“You tripped over a root. They pounced on you.” You whispered.

“I’m not dead.” Carl spoke confidently, “You shouldn’t worry about me.” 

You chuckled lowly, “I could say the same to you.” 

He turned back to meet you smiling, he narrowed his eyes a bit glancing down at your clothes. “Is that my shirt?” 

“No.” You answered too quickly and he laughed, “Let’s go in, I’m freezing.” 

    The days were always easier than the nights. Lately, you started taking more and more shifts clearing the fences. You never felt like you were actually happy. You begged to go on runs with Daryl or Sasha but you were always shot down being told you were too young. So you started sneaking out through the tombs. You did it alone, you would just disappear. You were never gone for more than a day or two. You always came back with something, meds, food, water, seeds, you would go house to house in the suburbs just looking through cabinets and closets. You knew it was stupid and you knew you could die but maybe part of you wanted to. Carl hated it when you left. He would glare at you when you got back until he broke the next day and got over it. Rick told you to stop, so did Michonne and Maggie. You always smiled and nodded saying you would and the next day you would be gone, one of Carl’s flannels missing from his room and a note tucked into his hat. 

You always came back okay, nothing more than a few cuts and bruises at the most. But this was different. You had been gone for almost a week. Carl had now experienced five and a half days of absolute torture, all he could imagine was you being torn apart by teeth or gagged and tied up in a basement. He had decided that once you were gone seven days he would go look for you. 

You swore ducking behind a tree. Your knife was grasped in your hand as you pressed your back against the tree. Walkers groaned, stumbling past you as you shoved yourself as far back as you could your hand covering your mouth in hopes to muffle your breaths. You waited as the heard passed slowly and another fifteen minutes after they were out of view. Your heartbeat calmed, grip on your weapon loosening. 

You struggled with the weight you carried. Your backpack weight more than you could manage, multiple ARs swung around your shoulders adding to the weight. Despite it all, you smiled widely. You had to backtrack to the road, you had left your wagon there to run from the dead. You couldn’t have been more than five miles out of the prison. As you made your way out of the forest you heard voices.

“Holy fuck! I can’t believe it!” A male voice shouted, “Guns just lying here.” he laughed.

“We should be careful the owner could be nearby.” Another hissed.

You cussed quietly snatching a semi-automatic and raising it to your shoulder. You flipped off the safety as you approached the road. You could see three men, the thought of taking them out from there flashed through your brain. You shook your head, the only had knives on them from the looks of it and you needed to act before they grabbed anything from the wagon. 

“Step away from the guns!” You shouted. 

Immediately one started towards them, you squeezed the trigger firing at his feet, he lept back to avoid the bullets. 

“Now!” You yelled doing your best to sound intimidating. 

You watched as they scanned the treeline one of them finding you a small smile finding his lips. He threw his hands in the air nodding for the others to do the same. “Alright sweetie, why don’t you come out?”

“Leave.” You responded not moving, “Leave or I will kill you.” None of them made a move, “A heard just passed by, the gunfire will have brought them back this way, go!” 

Just as you finished your sentence the one furthest to the right leaped for the guns. You blew out his knees as he howled. The other two took the opertonuty one manging to grab a handgun and firing at you. You scrambled behind a tree as shots rung around you. You peeked from behind the truth when the bullets stopped as they struggled to reload. You shot twice and he dropped to the ground. You looked around for the last man only to find he had disappeared. You scanned the road, beginning towards it when you were suddenly tackled to the ground. 

“Little bitch!” He shouted, the gun knocked from your hand, the others pinned behind your back. You screamed and he took a swing at you as you kneed him in the crotch. He let out a groan, his kife only catching your forehead. At that moment you reached for your own blade swinging it upwards. It connected with the bottom of his abdomen, you dragged it upwards his stomach opening and drenching you in his blood. He sputtered, blood from his mouth dripping onto your face. You shoved him off of you scrambling away and snatching your AR, you turned to put a bullet in his head as another gunshot rang out. 

Your eyes met with sky blue through a haze of red. Carl held his Bretta over the man his eyes locked on you. 

“What the fuck are you doing y/n?!” He shouted running at you and drawing you into his embrace. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he whispered into your ear. You stood stiff, Carl broke away from you, blood now soaking through his grey t-shirt. 

“Sorry.” You mumbled shrugging. 

Carl opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by a groan from the man lying on the road. You walked up to him, sticking your knife into his head. 

Carl glanced around at the bodies but said nothing. 

“We have to hurry, there was a heard the gunshots will lead them back this way.” You mumbled swinging off your backpack and shoving in as many had guns as you could then stuffing two into your belt and boots. “Help me carry these we’re too slow with the wagon.”

Carl followed your actions, filling his own bag with guns and ammo, “Where did you find all this?”

“A gun collector about twenty miles out, there’s more, I took as much as I could.” You responded.

You set off at a slow jog wanting to put some distance between you and the gunfire, after about half a mile you were both exhausted from the weight and slowed to a walk. 

“Don’t tell your dad about that.” You said, “I don’t want him to know.”

Carl didn’t say anything for a while, your shadows were getting longer, the light in the sky dulling. “Why do you go out here?” He finally asked.

You shrugged hands on the straps of your bag, “I like it.” 

“You like walkers? You like running for your life? You like being covered in blood?” He seethed clearly furious with you.

You only glared back at him, “It’s better than being cooped up in a prison doing nothing.” you hissed. “I can’t stand it. Being in there all the time, it’s like I’m going crazy, I feel so useless. At least out here I actually feel like I’m living.”

Carl scoffed, “This isn’t living. This is surviving. Being behind those gates, growing food, hanging out with other kids, that’s living.” 

You didn’t say anything else for the rest of the walk back. You reached the gates jogging past the walkers into the prison. Both of you getting looks as you were covered head to toe in blood and armed to the teeth. 

Ricks jaw dropped when he saw you, you answered his concerns with tales of walker blood before helping him unpack your bags showing him on a map where you found them. Carl didn’t say anything just nodded along with you before escaping the first chance he got. You finished talking with Rick and headed for the showers.

You found Carl in his cell, he wouldn’t even look at you, instead of keeping his eyes peeled on his comic book. You sighed sitting on the end of the bed. “I’m not going to go out like that anymore.” You mumbled kicking your feet up to the top of the bed. 

His eyes snapped towards you. 

“I’m going to go on some runs, but I won’t go by myself anymore. You’re right, that’s not living. This is.” You finished. 

He didn’t say anything for a while. You were about to give up and head to bed when he spoke up. “I thought he killed you when I first found you, he was lying over you, you were covered in blood. I thought he gutted you.” 

You swallowed mouth feeling suddenly dry.

Carl sat up now leaning towards you, “I can’t live without you y/n. I just can’t”

You were frozen, your heart hammering in your chest, he was so close you could feel his breath fanning over the bridge of your nose.

“So don’t go out there and get yourself killed.” He whispered his hand grabbing at your own. “Please.” The desperation in his voice made the breath catch in your throat. 

Your lips met slowly, your heart thudding so loudly you thought it might leap from you. Your eye fluttered shut, Carl’s grip on your hands tightening as he drew you closer to him. 

You broke apart slowly, the dim candlelight casting your face into warm shadows. “You won’t lose me.”

Masterlist

#carl grimes x you #carl grimes imagines #carl grimes imagine #carl grimes #carl grimes x reader #twd #twd imagine #twd daryl #the walking dead fandom #the walking dead imagines #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead #carl grimes x y/n #the walking dead fanfiction #carl grimes fanfiction

[witchiswriting]

A Not So Merry Christmas Chapter 5

Summary: Negan and Lilith meet with an unexpected face from the past.

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of violence, Mentions of panic attack.

Characters: Negan x Lilith (OC)

Author’s Note: Wow! We’re so close to the end. I feel bittersweet since it’s my Negan fic ever, saying goodbye to those characters are harder than I thought. Don’t worry though. There’s going to be a sequel, I just don’t know when it’s gonna be ready to posted.

It’s been a month and a half since Negan had started to live in this hell called The Sanctuary. He’d accepted the fact that he’s never going back to the life he once had. The only person he knew from his life before, his best friend or more like ex best friend was now his enemy. Rick Grimes, he was one of the residents of Sanctuary; he didn’t have a room like ordinary workers or saviours. No, he was staying in a cell and lost his hands in a brutal way. He had watched all his family getting slaughtered by Negan.

When Simon led Negan to the cells that day, he found out about the murders he’s caused, and they were a lot. When they came across Rick’s group Negan ordered them to give their half of shit to him. Threatened that otherwise he’d kill them. After particular events, a war took place between the groups Negan terrorised. They came together against Negan, but they still hadn’t the enough numbers to defeat Negan’s kingdom. So, Negan beat them down in a very brutal way.

Rick Grimes was the person who killed Lilith. In a crossfire he shot her in the chest. Although, Negan was the one to blame since he was the reason that Lilith had been here that day.

If he wouldn’t had been this stupid. Cheating on her in another world too.

In that very morning, Lilith walked in on him fucking Amber, at least that’s what Negan thinks her name is. He doesn’t remember anything, doesn’t know anything. He even made Simon tell him how Lilith died. So, that was it. Shocked and very much hurt Lilith left The Sanctuary, and she was too lost in her own mind to notice the trap the Alexandrians had set up.

First, she was captured by Rick. He had no intention to hurt her. She was just another victim to Negan after all but when the saviours came guns blazing Lilith got scared and tried to find a way to escape. She found it but when she threw herself, she felt the heavy bullet ripping through her chest. That’s how she died in arms of Negan.

When Negan stood in front of his ex-friend now enemy’s cell, he felt completely numb. Nothing came out of his mouth. The only voice echoing through the cold walls were Rick’s hatred, accusations, and threats. Negan waited with a stone-cold face. He was too busy to comprehend the situation. After 10 minutes he walked back to his room and refused to come out since then.

Negan sighed, taking a sip from his whiskey. He let a tear fall on his cheek. It’s been too long, and he was now sure that there’s no going back and there’s no Lilith. He’s the man with everything yet nothing.

For the first couple of weeks Negan always slept, thinking that might be the only way to go back to his old life but, of course, it didn’t work. Instead, he woke up to a bloody Lilith standing in front of him and accusing him of letting her die. His nightmares were another thing. There were too real that Negan couldn’t bear to live this agony repeatedly. So, he drowned himself and his sorrows in alcohol. Hoping to numb himself and he almost made it.

Until one night.

He was laying on his stomach in his bed and crying silently. Wishing he had at least one photograph of Lilith though he didn’t know if he could take looking at her beautiful face again. Trying to get some sleep, he closed his already tired eyes. He heard some noise in his bathroom but didn’t care. Probably he was too drunk, and his mind was making up things to torture him more.

He turned on his back and closed his eyes tightly. Wishing dive into deep slumbers of sleep in a few minutes however, the faith had other plans.

A light breeze brushed his beautiful face, slightly waking him up from his semi sleeping state.

There she was, standing in the same sun dress, watching him with an angry expression. Her dark curls were moving lightly in the wind.

He jolted up from the bed. He must have been dreaming or was too drunk again and seeing a hallucination.

Lucille, she was standing all in her glory.

‘’ You really don’t get the concept of second chances, do you Negan?’’ She asked with a sassy tone. It was apparent that she wasn’t pleased with him.

‘’W-what? I’m too drunk and seeing things. Fuck. Lucille.’’ Negan was rubbing his eyes.

‘’Wake up asshole, it’s not a hallucination. I’m here. Again. To fucking help.’’ She gritted her teeth.

‘’ But why?’’ Negan was confused. He knew he had no right to seek for help nor he deserved it.

‘’ I’m not doing this for you.’’ Lucille shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly.

‘’ Then for who? ‘’ It was getting more and more complex for Negan to figure out in his drunken state.

‘’ I mean you’ve always had a fucked-up mind, but you were also sharp. So, you tell me Negan.’’ She took a step toward him.

‘’ I’d say Lilith but, well… she’s gone.’’ Negan swallowed hardly. The gulp in his throat was getting bigger.

‘’ So, you say?’’ Lucille smirked knowingly.

‘’ IS SHE ALIVE? PLEASE TELL ME!’’ Negan got up from the bed and kneeled in front of Lucille.

‘’ Isn’t it funny that fears become wishes, Negan?’’ Lucille mocked his ex-husband. She’s not used to see him in such a pathetic state. She mumbled ‘good’ under her breath. ‘’ When you left Lilith, the last thing you wanted was to see her again. What has changed?’ She smirked but the sign of sympathy didn’t appear on her beautiful features, instead her face was full of ferocity.

Negan couldn’t keep his tears at bay anymore, at this point he’s crying like a pathetic dog. Yes, the woman he’d loved once was being extremely hard on him but his pain didn’t matter shit to him. All he wanted was Lilith to be alive, even if it’s without him.’ Please tell me she’s alive. Please, I beg you.’’ He started sobbing violently.

‘’ It depends. You’re probably going to treat her as badly as the last time.’’ Lucille shrugged her shoulders in a careless manner.

He started to hyperventilate. ‘’ I fucking promise I will never hurt her ever again. If she’s alive and ready to accept me, I’ll do my fucking best to make it up to her. Just please fucking tell me if she’s alive.’’

Lucille took a deep breath. Her eyes were shining mischievously. ‘’ Well then.’’ She bit her lower lip. ‘’ Yes, she’s alive Negan but she’s not doing very well as you can guess.’’

‘’I-I-I’d do everything for her to be happy… and if she doesn’t want me then I’ll go my own way. I just want the best for her.’’ Tears were running down on his face violently. His eyes were blood shot and puffy, his nose was running down but he couldn’t care less. This a month and a half has been the worst he’s ever experienced. He thought nothing could beat the day Lucille died but he was wrong.

Negan struggled at controlling his shaking hands. The balloon growing inside him was pressing into his chest. His breath got caught in his throat and he couldn’t mutter a word, just a chocked sob came out. The last time he had a panic attack was when he found out Lucille has cancer.

Watching the miserable man before her, Lucille put her delicate hand on his shoulder in a supporting manner. ‘’ Stand up and go to sleep. Maybe you’ll wake up to your old life next morning. Who knows?’’ She purred.

He stood up like an obedient child, but he had one question in his mind. ‘’Lucille, why are you being this good to me?’’

Lucille laughed. ‘’Oh dear, I’m not being good to you, now go back to sleep. If you’re lucky maybe you’d see her in your dream tonight.’’ And with that she disappeared.

Lilith was dancing slowly in her room. That was her coping mechanism. Whenever a bad thing happens, she tries to get over it with dancing and most of the time it helps but this time she felt like there’s nothing that could soothe her pain.

It’s been two weeks and the pain had started to annoy her, since childhood she hadn’t been good with dealing her negative emotions and the last one was the biggest blow. Feeling sad and in pain drove her crazy. Now, she’s mad at his asshole ex-fiancé also herself. She didn’t know when she’d fallen that deep for the man who ruined her life in a single night. Before, she didn’t realize how much he meant to her and it hurt more knowing that he was probably the only one for her.

Five days ago, she went back to Negan’s place to gather her things, but nobody was at home and there was no sign of Negan had been there for a long time. His car and motorbike were in the garage, but his clothes were absent in his wardrobe. Who knows, maybe he’d already found a lover. Thinking of that possibility hurt Lilith in the ways she could’ve never guessed before.

Rubbing her eyes, she took a deep breath and stared herself at mirror. The song was over, and she was a little bit tired. She watched herself for a few minutes. Her bright blue eyes were slightly red and swollen just like her plump lips. Her nose was running down, and the tip was a deep shade of red.

Suddenly, she heard a melody playing. She didn’t recognize it immediately, but she knew she heard it before, just couldn’t quite place when she listened to the song.

She must be forgetting things after all the crying; her head wasn’t in the right place. She unplugged the player and threw herself on bed.

When she felt a soft fingertip on her bare shoulder it’s been almost 10 minutes letting herself into the arms of slumber. Rubbing her eyes tiredly, Lilith slightly opened them.

She couldn’t help the gape that formed on her mouth when she saw the woman who she’d only knew from photographs standing before her.

It was an interesting night to begin with.

@buttercandy16​ @negans-network​

#jeffrey dean morgan #negan #negan x reader #negan x oc #negan angst #negan smut #negan fluff #lucille twd #lucille #negan x lilith #story: a not so merry christmas #the walking dead #twd fanfiction #twd #jdm #negan twd

[pikemoreno]

if you ever wanna be in love

Chapter V: Lightning Strikes

a/n: it’s startingggg. it might be good to read up on the events of the mentalist... to avoid any confusion for the next few chapters... i’ll just say that. also the lightning metaphor is a callback to chapter 1. it’s been a while so i wouldn’t blame you for not recalling

pairing: marcus pike x f!reader

word count: 4k 

warnings: none, and i don’t expect there to really be any serious ones in upcoming chapters either... well actually, there’s a wee bit of angst here...

wanna join a taglist? | masterlist | series masterlist

The sun was hardly over the tree-lined horizon when you pulled up to the Elizabet Ney Museum. It was a consequence of your team being requested to come before the museum opened, allowing business hours to go on as usual during the investigation. That was making you wonder exactly how busy they thought this place was going to get on a Monday morning during the school year-- and how they expected the investigation to be successful when they had guests tramping all over the scene-- but you didn't question it. 

Being a few minutes early, you took some time to traipse around the property to see if anything looked note-worthy. The sand-colored castle-like complex was bathed in soft early morning light and a haunting fog; the grass was dewy and squeaked against your shoes as you circled the grand building. The most likely entry and exit points-- the door and windows on the far side-- yielded nothing. Nothing on the wooden door nor the brassy knob was broken, and there was no sign of trampled dirt around it, nor was there anything amiss with the paned windows. However, the security camera just above the back-door threshold made you raise an eyebrow. They had full security cam coverage and couldn't determine how their stuff had been stolen? Odd. 

You were far too distracted with your thoughts as you walked that you didn't hear the car pull in out front or the person getting out of it or the footsteps coming around the side of the building. So when Marcus appeared right in front of you as he rounded the corner, he had to grab your arm to steady you as you almost fell on your ass in surprise. You almost ripped your arm out of his grasp as the electricity of the touch shot through your arm, surprising you far more than his sudden appearance. 

You almost did. But you didn't. It felt too nice in the end.

"Sorry," he laughed, "Didn't mean to scare you. Coffee?" He held out a drink carrier containing two travel cups. "Should be the one on the right." You took it. 

"Does it have--" you took a sip before you finished your question. 

It was exactly the way you liked it. You regarded Marcus with wide eyes. 

"You know my coffee order?" you gaped. He shrugged nonchalantly. You followed him as he made his way back to the front of the museum.

"Yeah. What about it?" he laughed, sipping from his drink.

"How do you know it?" 

"From when we were at Copper Coin last week." He looked genuinely confused as to why this was a shocking discovery. 

"And you remember what I ordered?"

"Of course." His eyes shone with sincerity and just a hint of something that said, "duh."

You wanted to ask if he knew all of his co-workers' coffee orders by heart, but you were interrupted by the arrival of Adrian, followed closely by Wendy. You blinked a little. 

Did they come here together? 

You'd heard nothing from her since they had "gotten together" a few days ago. Now, this little scene had you wondering exactly how "together" they had gotten. You shot Wendy a questioning look around Adrian's shoulder, and she mouthed "later" with what was quite possibly the biggest grin you'd ever seen from her. Her whole demeanor had changed in the days since you'd seen her. Even if your plans for getting them together didn't work out as planned, the result was the same. Standing in front of you were two people finding at least the tiniest bit of healing in companionship. And that is all the set-up was about in the end. 

Mission: success.

"Hey guys," Marcus greeted them, reaching a hand out to shake Wendy's, "You must be Wendy?"

"That's me," she shook his hand, smiling, "And you're Marcus." He nodded. "Hang on. How do you two know each other?" She studied the two of you carefully. 

Oops.

"Oh well, a couple of weeks ago, we were out of coffee, so I snuck over to their break room to get some. We talked for a minute. And now I just see him everywhere, I guess," you laid out as casually as possible. 

"I see." You couldn't tell if she actually sounded unconvinced or if your incredible paranoia just made her sound that way. "Well, this is Adrian, who I told you about already," she beamed, you shook his hand.

Be cool, be cool. I definitely haven't been interfering in your love life for the past two weeks.

"Nice to meet you, Adrian. You're on the Art Squad?"

Good playing dumb, me.

"I am."

"Great. Pleased to work with you."

The museum owner arriving saved you from further pleasantries. Adrian, being the one who had talked to her the most, ran ahead to greet her while the rest of you hung back. Wendy looped her arm through yours and started her quiet detailing of her night.

"So last night I went over to Adrian's place just for a little home-cooked meal and a movie," you nodded along, smiling at her excitement, "It was so great, you know? My perfect relaxed evening. Of course, then I accidentally fell asleep there-- thank God I keep an extra set of work clothes in my car. But what do I wake up to? Breakfast from Rick's!" 

"Very impressive!"

"Right?" she sighed, "He made sure he was up before me and snuck out for breakfast. Ugh, what a keeper! How did he know?" You shot a quick look over to Marcus but gave a nonchalant shrug to Wendy.

"Everyone likes Rick's, I guess."

"Either way. It was very sexy of him. Find yourself someone like that." With that, she patted your shoulder and stepped over to join Adrian and the museum owner.

Marcus laughed a little as he fell into step with you. You cocked your head as you watched him

"What?"

"I'm the one that told him to do that."

"Really? Been giving him pointers, oh great love master?" He put a hand to his chest, feigning offense.

"Ouch. Of course, I have. He was with his ex for so long he doesn't remember how to date anymore. I had to tell him all of my tricks."

"Oh, is that how you charm all the women? Surprise breakfast?"

"Sometimes. Sometimes other meals. But always breakfast food." You laughed. "Seriously. It's unassuming, comforting. Anyone can go out to dinner and a movie, right? Breakfast food is both more relaxed and more intimate. No one is putting on airs or trying to impress with diner breakfast food. No one is ordering healthy to look good. No one is on their best manners. They're getting their chocolate chip waffles, and they're piling the syrup on it no matter what you say about it, and that tells you way more about someone than how they act at a fancy restaurant."

"That's… Actually, really profound." 

There was an indiscernible look in his eye as you gazed at him and him back at you. Like he knew something you didn't, and he was just waiting for you to figure it out.

Remember when I took you to Rick's?

***

The case was a pretty difficult one. 

The robbery occurred on one of the busiest days they'd had all year. Guests had been pouring in for one last little family day before school started back, enjoying an educational experience and the beautiful weather the day brought as they walked the grounds. The security cameras were down for the entire business day. The only lead was that the Ney family members-- a distant cousin and niece who had donated the heirloom and the bust-- had come right before closing. They would've undoubtedly noticed that their precious items were missing. Therefore, the items must've been stolen after they left, after the museum had closed. 

But that's where things got tricky. The doors to the museum were locked, as were the windows, and there were, as you'd seen this morning, no signs of forced entry. The only suspects, then, were employees and volunteers who could've gotten access to the keys. That left the owner, a bunch of high school and college students keeping a summer job, and a couple of elderly art lover volunteers. Logically, you could pretty much eliminate the students immediately, though everyone would be brought in for questioning for the sake of process anyway. There was little reason for a student to steal those items. This wasn't a Monet and the Hope Diamond. They wouldn't have sold for much, certainly not enough to make it worth the risk of robbing their own workplace. Frankly, the motive was unclear all-around. The family was ready to sue the museum for their negligence, and the museum wouldn't last very long if it came down to a money battle. The owner probably wouldn't have sabotaged themselves like that, unless there was some sort of a deeper issue. And the elderly volunteers… You guessed could've done it if they were art fanatics, but, really: why? It didn't add up. 

The owner told you as much as she could as she led you through the property-- she wasn't sure either. You were able to eliminate her as a suspect as she spoke. She was outright begging you to find the thief, nearly in hysterics over the prospect of losing the beloved museum and her livelihood.

"We'll do our best, Mrs. Moa," Marcus calmed her, "Do you know anyone who would want to sabotage you or the museum or the family?" She shook her head weakly.

"Not offhand. You'd have to ask them as well, though."

"We will. Don't worry, Mrs. Moa. You have four of the FBI's best here, we're gonna figure this out," Adrian beamed.

It was a blatant over-promise and gross exaggeration, but as you looked around at your new-found little crew, you almost believed him too. 

You all shook Mrs. Moa's hand as you departed, telling her that forensics would be along shortly to do their thing, and you would start questioning suspects the next day. She once again gave her most gracious thanks and went back to anxiously prepping for the museum opening. The news of the theft and the subsequent lawsuit was spreading, and she was going to be getting a lot of hard questions thrown at her today.  Poor thing.

"Would you all like to come over to my place later?" Adrian started as you all made your way back to your cars, "I'll order pizza, grab some drinks, and we can maybe talk about this case?" His "maybe" was not particularly convincing. This was strictly going to be a social event, and you all knew it.

You all gave your confirmation that you would be there and headed back to the office to finish out the workday.

***

Despite the in-office workday being a mere half-day by the time you made it back, it felt like it was dragging on forever. You had plenty of other files to work through and close, but you couldn't get your mind off the Ney case. There was a missing piece, and you had to get your mind off of that sinking feeling before you could do anything else. Wendy had been on the phone since she stepped foot in her office, and you frankly didn't know Adrian well enough to be comfortable going to him. So that just left Marcus to go to.

You'd been thinking about him all day. Now that Adrian and Wendy were together, was that going to change your relationship too? Would you still talk like you do now? You certainly hoped so. You'd bared your soul too much at the coffee shop for him to turn into a casual acquaintance now. And honestly? You'd gotten sort of attached to him. He really did make you feel important and wanted and cared about, just as you'd craved back at the beginning of all of this. Some sort of feeling had sprung up. Not necessarily, feeling feelings. You don't fall that fast. But there was something. Enough that you didn't want him gone. You wanted to learn more about him, experience more with him beyond just being a co-worker... Whatever that meant.

You hopped up from your desk and got into the elevator before anyone noticed you'd left, finding him where you now knew his desk to be. You leaned a hand against the front of the mahogany, and he looked up curiously, waiting for your explanation he could see forming in your brain. 

"Do you feel like there's something missing in the Ney case?" You asked finally.

"Sure, a perpetrator," he responded in a deadpan. 

"Alright, then. Good talk, smartass." You took two steps away from his desk before he grabbed you lightly by the forearm to bring you back. 

"No, no. Come back. I'll be serious now, I promise. What are you thinking?"

"Doesn't it just seem like something's missing? I feel like there's no motive in any of the suspects we have."

"Well, that's what the interrogations are for, right?"

"Yeah, but--" you bit your lip for a moment, considering, "Do you think that the family would have anything to do with it?"

"How do you mean?" he folded his arms now. You didn't realize his hand was still on your forearm until he removed it. You felt the warmth leave as the overdone air-conditioning immediately chased the feeling away.

He did, of course. He knew his hand was still on your skin. And for every moment his hand remained there, it grew a little more difficult to not slide it down to where his fingers could fully intertwine with yours. But that would have been too much. His ex-wife-- and admittedly, multiple others-- had chided how he was too overbearing. He had been feeling that something as well, terrifying as it was. And it was taking everything in him to not fall into his usual, "overbearing" ways. Your mind towards him was completely indiscernible so far. Sure, there had been moments that it seemed that you'd be more than happy to have your hand held by him, but, more often than not, the friendly, playful banter you shared moments later completed nixed out those moments to him. He had no idea what you were thinking and was maybe a little hesitant to find out at this point. Right now, he needed to test the waters, play it cool, and maybe one day he'd feel he could do that without scaring you off. 

"Well," you started, "I guess I'll have to question the family too to confirm this, but wouldn't they maybe have something to gain from the lawsuit? Money? Power over the museum?" you tapped your fingers lightly on the desk, then your eyes widened with your 'aha' moment, "Maybe I'll research if they've had any past disputes with Mrs. Moa. Thanks, Marcus, you've been a big help." 

"I didn't--" you'd already run away, booking it back to your floor, "do anything." 

He shook his head fondly.

You weren't at your desk trying to dig into the museum history for very long before Wendy walked up and sat across from you. She did so incredibly coolly, taking a moment to look around the office and give the chair little half-spins before she finally spoke. 

"So, how do you actually know Marcus?"

You almost choked as you sucked in a too-quick breath. 

"I'm sorry?"

"How do you actually know Marcus?" 

"Exactly what we said earlier," you shook your head, "We met by chance in the breakroom a couple of weeks ago, I've seen him around, chatted occasionally, and now we're on this case together." 

"Sure."

"You think I'm lying?" 

How could she have possibly known about the set up?

"I do. But I don't know if you know you're lying." You gave her a questioning look, inviting her to continue. "I've never actually seen you truly smitten with someone. But I would imagine it'd look something like this."

"Oh come on, you've seen me with him one time." She laughed. Loudly.

"What? Do you think I don't have eyes? I've seen you two talking around the office. I've seen you laughing and looking nothing short of flustered. I've seen your phone go off with a text message when you leave it on your desk. It's from a 'Marcus' pretty damn often. Am I right in assuming you don't know two Marcuses?" It was rhetorical, but you shook your head anyway. "I saw that you were together when I came into Copper Coin the other day. I saw you both with the very same Copper Coin travel cups this morning. And I know for a fact that when you were gone from your desk right now, you were with Marcus."

"I mean, that's all true. But so what? It's not what you're probably thinking it is." She hummed, thinking for a moment.

"Do you want it to be?" That stopped you in your tracks.

What did you want from this?

"I--" you sighed, throwing your head back against the back of your chair, "Undecided."

"That's ok. Hey, it's only been two weeks. I just... I really have never seen you act like that with someone before. I had to ask." You nodded along. You had a strange feeling all of that actually meant: "You've been so ridiculously obvious that I had to make sure you knew how obvious you were being."

"It's not out of the question. I just don't know yet. It takes time. Do you think he… Feels that way about me?"

She sighed. "I can't say for sure. I'll have to keep an eye out tonight."

***

It was by total accident that you arrived to Adrian's at the same time as Marcus, but it happened nonetheless. The autumn air around you was finally cooling down. Marcus had his hands in his pockets, and you were kicking pebbles up the sidewalk as you walked down the parked-up street and up to the little yellow house. Its golden porch lights beamed brightly as the sun was falling behind the horizon so much quicker lately. 

"Kind of a funny turn of events," Marcus mused. "We've been casually interfering in their lives, trying to bring them together, making sure they don't know that we know each other. And now they're together in spite of us, and we're walking into Adrian's house together."

"Yeah… Wendy kinda already knew that we knew each other."

"She did?"

"She did. She saw us together too much, I guess. But  I don't think she suspects that we were up to anything."

"Oh good… So what did she say?"

"What do you mean?" 

"Well, she obviously brought something up to you. So what was it?"

"Uh, I-- I guess she thinks there's more to it. I don't know." He laughed.

It was a nervous laugh, but you didn't hear it as such. You moved on before any of the rest of that conversation could be discussed. 

"So has Adrian said anything to you about this little relationship of theirs?" 

"Just that he has no idea what he's doing and needs help." You laughed. "So, I've been helping him out a bit."

"So… The pancakes are a part of that. What else have you been telling him?"

"You know, some date ideas. I remember you saying that a walk around a museum would be more her speed? I told him to do that. He knows all about the art in any art museum and could talk her ear off about any of it. Do you think she'd like that? Him telling her about the art?"

"She would love that, I think. That's very romantic." 

"You think?"

"I do."

Is it something you'd love too?

There was no chance for him to ask. Wendy greeted you at the door with a raised brow. You didn't intend to arrive together, but that wouldn't convince her for a second. 

***

The evening went by without a hitch. Adrian and Wendy's budding relationship was genuinely adorable. Watching them dance around the kitchen as they warmed up slices from the already-cold pizza, they looked like they'd already been doing it for months. The conversation shared was breezy and comfortable.

Until.

"Oh, Adrian, don't forget. Floor renovation starts tomorrow. We're on the 5th floor with Special Crimes for a bit," Marcus reminded as you all sat around Adrian's kitchen table-- pizza long gone, finishing the last sips of your drinks.

"Good to know," you interjected. He looked at you quizzically.

"What do you mean?" 

"Well, what if I wanted to come bother you after finishing the interrogations? I would've gone to the 6th floor and would've never found you. Now I know." You grinned, taking a smug sip of your drink. 

"What a tragedy that would've been." His smile was fond. When you looked over to Wendy, she had a peculiar expression-- her "thinking face"-- as she looked between you and Marcus. Her expression shifted to express exasperation.

"What?" You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. 

Of course, you knew what it was. Once Wendy took off your blinders, you saw everything: the way Marcus interacted with you, the way you interacted with him. Every action tonight was tinged with nervous, flirtatious energy: from the way you laughed at every terrible joke of his to the way his arm was seemingly permanently fixated to the back of your chair.

You understood now what Wendy meant earlier, but you still didn't yet understand how you felt about it. 

"Will you come with me for a second?" she asked you. You got up with her, moving to the foyer, leaving Marcus and Adrian mumbling amongst themselves to figure out what the hell was happening. She didn't waste time in confronting you.

"I've been watching you two all night, and that does not look like nothing. It's clear that he is very into you. I know you said you need time on it, but if you don't feel the same way about him, you need to stop leading him on."

"I'm not leading him on."

"You are. You may not realize it, but you are. The joking and laughing, the gazing, everything."

You opened your mouth to speak, but closed it, crossing your arms. 

"You can't be wishy-washy on this. I'm not letting you run from this this time. So, once and for all: what's going on in your head, and what are you going to do about it?" 

"You know what? Nothing. And nothing." The words came out a little sharper than you intended, tired of this conversation and…

Scared. You were scared. You felt the distinct static tingle of lightning about to strike, and you were running from its impact once again.

"Nothing?"

"No. I know what I said earlier about needing time, but I don't. I've made up my mind. Nothing is going on here; there never will be anything going on here, alright?" You turned around to stomp back to the kitchen, but someone was standing there.

Marcus.

He heard you; there was no denying it.

His face was unmistakably downcast. You looked to the floor to avoid those ever emotion-betraying eyes of his.

He was sure the whole neighborhood could hear him swallow his hurt.

"Excuse me. I was just heading out. Have a good night." He brushed past you both coolly and stepped out through the front door behind you. You think Wendy said goodnight in return, but you couldn't hear through the fog. You said nothing. 

Lightning struck. 

But you ran indoors, and he was a lightning rod. 

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#tw: flashing gif #marcus pike x reader #iyewbil #bri writes

[ouiouipparker]

~You Said You loved me~ R.B

Ricky Imagine-

In Which: Y/n is dating E.J. Caswell. Y/n realizes romance is just a fantasy but little does she know someone she didn’t expect to love her, loved her too

This is taken off of my wattpad account (ouiouipparker) so go check it out for more imagines

Word Count: 

Warnings: Slightly depressing, but mainly just fluff from our fav lil bean Ricky

Happy Reading!

You were always the type of person who loved romance. Whether it was Romance novels or Romantic comedies you were a fan.

So when you got your first boyfriend, you always wanted to do cheesy romantic things.

Ricky always teased you about it. He said you were too much of a 'Romantic' whatever the heck that meant.

Ricky was your best friend. He had been since you were in kindergarten.

You'd had a crush on him for a long time. Before you met E.J. who was your current boyfriend, you'd always imagine what it would have been like if you had told Ricky your feelings sooner. Before he developed feelings for Nini.

Nini Salazar-Roberts.

She was your other best friend.

You didn't tell her your feelings for Ricky because you knew she also had a crush on him. You didn't think you stood a chance.

You were right.

They got together a few months after Nini told you about her feelings.

And you knew he was crazy about her.

So you did what you had to.

You moved on.

That's when E.J. came into your life.

You two had gone to theatre camp over the summer and you really got to know him.

You being the romantic you were, developed a crush on him.

Somehow he liked you too.

Call it a summer fling but you knew there was something more. You two shared something that you had only ever felt with Ricky.

It wasn't like the other mini crushes you occasionally had when you tried to get over Ricky.

You'd fallen for him.

And you fell hard.

Things escalated quickly and you started dating E.J before the summer ended.

When September rolled around, you were finally happy.

You met someone new, someone that wasn't Ricky and you had finally moved on from Ricky and all the drama from last year.

You were optimistic about this year. Junior year was going to be your year.

You finally got a lead in the fall musical, you had your first boyfriend, and everything was good between you and Ricky.

That's all you wanted.

You prayed it would stay that way. But with your luck, you knew it was a matter of time before something got screwed up.

That's how it always happened in the Romance novels you were obsessed with.

The first few months of school had passed and you suddenly found yourself in the lunchroom with your friends.

You had been involved in the theatre program since you were a Freshman. So you had gotten close with a lot of the reoccurring members. Ashlyn had become one of your close friends.

She was throwing a party tonight and she had invited the cast from the fall musical.

You were excited to go and have fun with your friends.

E.J, however, wasn't excited.

He knew Ricky would be there, and he didn't trust him with how close you were with Ricky.

You assured him that you were just friends but he was still skeptical.

So he tried to convince you not to go to the party.

"Come on Y/n. Can we just stay home and watch movies on your couch please." E.J begs

You shake your head.

"I'm sorry E.J we can't. Ashlyn asked me to go to the party. Plus E.J you know how much this party means to her."

He sighs kissing you on your forehead.

"I know. I'm sorry. I just want to stay in and cuddle." E.J sighs.

"It's okay. We can watch movies next week alright?"

"I'm fine with whatever, as long as it's with you."

"You're so cheesy." You tease going on your tiptoes to give him a kiss.

"Says you. You're the one who's into all the romantic things." He smirks accepting your kiss.

'Okay but you love it."

"That is true."

******************************

After school, you went over to E.J's house and started to help Ashlyn set up for the party when you got a call from Ricky.

"Hey Rick! You coming to the party tonight?" You ask enthusiastically.

"Yeah. I know if I say no you'll drag me over there anyway." He laughs.

You smile even though he couldn't see you smiling.

Ricky knew you were though. He knew you too well.

When he broke up with Nini, he realized he dated the wrong girl.

Sure Nini was great, but she wasn't you.

His feelings for Nini went away when he realized he wanted to be with you.

He loved you and only you.

So he broke up with Nini, hoping you felt the same.

But of course, you just had to date E.J.

He knew he had missed his shot.

And he messed up with you and Nini.

But you were happy with E.J.

He didn't want to be the person that messed up your happiness.

So he shoved his feelings away. Just like you had done when he started dating Nini.

He vowed one day, he would tell you how he felt.

Because he knew you were the only one for him.

After a minute or so, it got quite on Ricky's end of the phone call.

"Ricky? You still there?" You ask.

"Hm, yeah. Yeah, I'm here."

"Okay. Um is there a reason you called or something. I mean I want to talk and all but I'm helping Ashlyn set up so um."

"Oh yeah, should I bring anything to the party?"

Before you could protest, Ashlyn took your phone.

"Just bring yourself, whatever games you have and whatever you want to bring is okay. Except for Alcohol or anything illegal."

You laugh taking your phone back from her.

"So um I'll see you at 6?"

"Yeah. I'll be there. See you soon Y/n."

You smile and hang up the call to continue helping Ashlyn.

"Thanks so much for helping out Y/n."

"Of course Ash." You smile.

"There are just a few things I still have to do but I think Big Red should be here soon so he can help me. E.J is in his room so you can just go in there whenever. I just need to bring these towels upstairs."

You nudge her when she mentioned Big Red. You knew she had a crush on him and you and Ricky had been trying to set them up ever since you two found out they liked each other.

"Shut up Y/n." Ashlyn laughs nudging you back.

"Here let me take those for you. I'll put these upstairs." You smile as you take the towels and start to head upstairs.

As you walk upstairs you hear voices coming out of E.J's room.

"You haven't told her!" You hear shouting.

"Nini, please. Don't say anything. I promise I'll tell her soon just, please. Don't tell Y/n. Let me do it."

"No E.J. You said you would tell her. I can't keep lying to her. She's my best friend."

"I know. Just, please. Do this for me. She shouldn't find out from someone else."

"Tell me what?" You ask.

E.J and Nini jump.

"Hey, babe. Um, its nothing. Right, Nini?"

You see E.J nudge Nini in the side and you knew he was hiding something.

Nini groans walking out of the room hugging you as she did.

"Yeah, its nothing. I'll see you downstairs." She smiles as she exits.

"Is everything okay E.J?" You ask once Nini had left.

"Everything's fine." He smiled motioning you to come over.

You sigh realizing you were just overthinking everything and hopped onto his bed.

He brings you to his chest and you get into a comfortable position

"I love you." He mumbles.

"I love you too E.J."

And you really did.

**********************************************

The party had been going well. You were having a lot of fun with your friends.

It had been an hour or so since you last saw E.J. You didn't want to be the clingy type but you wanted to be with him for at least some of the party.

You go upstairs to his room trying to find him and you knock on his door before entering anyway.

You freeze.

He was kissing some other girl you couldn't see.

Until they turned around and saw you in your heartbroken state.

E.J scrambles to get out of his bed.

And you saw Gina in his bed.

"Y/n, please. I'm sorry don't leave!" E.J says as he tries to go to you.

"You said you loved me E.J." You say softly.

"I'm sorry, please just hear me out."

"You lied to me!" You shout.

"Please Y/n-"

"How could you E.J." You choke out as tears drip down your cheeks.

You suddenly feel someone's presence behind you.

It was Ricky.

"What's going on?" He asks.

You shake your head running out of the door.

"Y/n please!"

But you were already out the door.

*******************************************************

Although you were a romantic, you knew that reality always came crashing when you least expect it to.

That's how all your love stories had ended.

That night, was the night yours had ended with E.J

You knew you couldn't trust him again, not after what he did.

And what's the point on continuing a relationship if you can't trust the other person.

So you did what you had to do.

You texted him one more time and ended it, blocking his phone number and all your social media accounts in the process.

You drove home and then you cried as soon as your head hit the pillow.

Maybe it was the music playing in the background, or what had just happened to you, but that night you realized fundamental things about love.

As you cried, you realized happily ever after was never real. It would never happen to you.

You realized you had set your expectations too high. Romance was never what it seemed. It wasn't real.

You hear footsteps, and you saw the shadow of your best friend at the corner of your eye.

"I guess you found out.." She says softly.

You were too hurt to say anything so it stays quiet for a few minutes.

"Was this what you were going to tell me today." You ask.

She nods.

You start crying and she held you as you cried

You went to bed that night crying shutting everyone out.

It had been a few days since you found out E.J cheated on you.

You hadn't left your room, Ricky and Nini being the only ones allowed inside your room.

Currently, Nini was there sitting on your bed as you binged an unhealthy amount of RomComs and ate ice cream out of the pint.

"Y/n I have to tell you something, but please don't be mad." Nini blurts out randomly.

"What is it Ni?" You ask.

"I found E.J kissing Gina in the theatre a few days ago and told him if he didn't tell you I would. I know I should have told you earlier I'm sorry but there was never a right time to tell you-"

You squeeze her hand which was your way of saying you weren't mad at her.

"I'm not mad at you Nini. I haven't been honest with you either."

"What haven't you told me Y/n?" She asks.

You sigh scared to admit it out loud.

"Before I dated E.J and before you dated Ricky, I liked Ricky. I liked him for a few years but I didn't do anything about it because I knew you liked him too and I didn't want to hurt you by telling you. But apart of me never fully got over him. E.J helped me get over him temporarily and now that this happened, I don't know how long it will be before those feelings for Ricky come back." You confess.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Nini asks.

"Because Ni, you liked him. So much. And I knew if I told you, you would give up your chance with Ricky for me even though I never stood a chance and I would have been the reason why you got hurt. I never want that for you. So I hid my feelings."

Nini groans out in frustration before smacking your head lightly.

"Ow! Nini, what was that for?" You ask.

"Y/n, you know I love you but I swear, you're so stupid sometimes." Nini laughs.

"Hey!" You pouted.

"Did I ever say why Ricky broke up with me?" She asks softly.

"Because he couldn't say I love you." You respond.

She nods.

"Yes, because he didn't love me, he loved you."

"Wait, that can't be true. He never loved me, it was always you-"

"He loved you y/n. I think he still does. That's why he could never say it to me."

"That's impossible."

"Okay fine. The next time Ricky comes over, I want you to ask him if he ever loved you. If he says yes and I know he will you owe me $20." Nini says.

"Fine, deal In fact I'll call him right now to come over just to watch you lose."

"Okay. Watch him say 'of course, anything for you Y/n'."

You stick your tongue out at her childishly.

You pick up your phone to call Ricky.

You hover over his contact and he picks up after the second ring.

"Hi, Ricky. Um, can you come over, please? I need you."

That was true. You needed him.

"Yeah, of course, I'm on my way, is everything alright?" He asks.

"Yeah. I'm fine. I'm sorry I know this is last minute, I just really need you, Rick."

"Of course Y/n. Anything for you."

Nini smirks as you stick your tongue out at her.

"I'll be there in 10." He says

"Okay. See you then."

Ricky hangs up.

"Of course, Anything for you Y/n." Nini mimics.

"Shut up Ni." You laugh

"I'm getting my $20." Nini cheers.

"That doesn't mean anything. There's no way Ricky loves me." ***********************************************************************************

"Look Y/n, I love you. I love you more than a best friend. It's always been you."

It had been 20 minutes since Ricky came over.

30 seconds since he said the words you wanted him to say for 4 years.

You waited for him to say those 3 words for so long and it was finally happening.

You were shocked, to say the least.

He sat on your bed, his fingers running through his hair.

You were scared to admit you loved him too. Because he could leave you any second.

He could hurt you like E.J had.

You were terrified to give Ricky that side of you. To let your walls down again.

"I know its bad timing with what E.J did to you but I had to tell you. Before I lost my chance again."

You're still speechless. So you did what you had been wanting to do since 8th grade.

You kissed him.

"I love you too Ricky Bowen. Always have always will. "

"Ha pay up Y/n!" Nini shouts.

"Shut up Nini." You laugh before going to kiss Ricky again.

"Can we do that a thousand more times?" Ricky smirks.

"Who's the romantic one now?" You tease him.

He rolled his eyes.

"Shut up and kiss me."

************************************************************

Thanks for reading my first imagine on this account!

xx

-ouiouipparker

#ricky bowen #rickyimagine #hsmtmts #joshua basset imagine #joshua basset x reader #ej caswell #ricky bowen x reader #joshua bassett

[bubblyani]

More Than Enough

(Rick x Reader)

A Rick (Knight of Cups) Songfic One Shot

Song Used: “More Than Enough” - Alina Baraz

Author’s Note: The more I listened to this song the more I was thinking of this character. So really wanted to write something for him. It was interesting trying to get that same artistic feeling Terence Malik made us feel in the movie with this. Enjoy!

Your fingers slowly grazed over the phone screen as if they were in contact with the skin of a newborn. Swiping, tapping, you did it all silently. Finally giving the screen one last tap, you waited for the Bluetooth speakers to come alive. Except it did not. 

A wave of concern washed over you. Perhaps the connection was still pending, you thought. But you remained patient, with your eyes glued to the small screen that lay on the table. You gasped in the form of a soft inhalation the moment you felt Rick appear behind you, his head popping over your shoulder to glance.

“What is it?” He asked, with his gentle voice. Wearing a soft smile, you slowly turned to face him.

“You’ll see…” you said, with confidence. Yet, the music did not play. The only sounds your ears could grasp onto were the soothing sounds of the ocean nearby while the warm LA breeze caressed your body.

“It’s this song…” You began, looking down, “that I really like…” you continued, watching your right draw circles in the space between your feet and his. Though you did not show it, you wondered whether there was an error on your device. But that embarrassment quickly washed away, like a crashing wave over the sand the moment the melodic bass began to fill the atmosphere. It was slow but rhythmic, played to the time of a waltz.

“Truthfully it makes more sense now than it ever did before” you added, feeling his eyes watch you with the greatest fascination. There he goes, you thought. Doing that again. Playing the observer. But truthfully, you did not want him to be just that.

You noticed it even on the very first meeting. His eyes were what you could not get over. Never did you imagine to find a pair of eyes like his, in a place so superficial like an After party of your Dance Company’s seasonal recital. In the midst of eyes that had little to none souls left, you were refreshed to see a pair that brimmed in it.

A wealthy sponsor of your Dance Company surprisingly was your mutual acquaintance, introducing Rick as a “fellow brethren in the arts” to you and others that gathered around over chilled glasses of champagne.

“And Y/N? Our star dancer? Oh.. she’s simply the…” Compliments. You heard compliments pouring all over, you felt like you were in need of a raincoat. Even after all these years, You did not have the skin to take it all. Indeed, they were all good. A figurative pat on the back, but an overdose of anything could make anyone uncomfortable. And when your eyes met Rick’s through all the chatter. He truly did see you. So much so you swore you heard his eyes say, “I know…”

Nodding, smiling you were accustomed in sailing through the shallow waters of socialite conversation that was unavoidable. That was how it always went. But the need to escape it always lingered within you. Thankfully, with him around, it did not seem  insufferable. His eyes, they kept company throughout. To the point your eyes had a silent conversation with his. You both laughed, you both cringed, inconspicuously with just your eyes. And by the end of the party you knew in your bones you wanted to see him again. And when he came over to ask you for your number, you were relieved to know he wanted the same.

Only alone were the two of you finally felt liberated to let the conversations flow. Finally, you were not the star of a dance production, or someone’s poster girl. You were just yourself. Rick spoke less than you hoped he would. Or maybe you felt this way because of the secret admiration you possessed for his voice. It moved you. It affected you. It sent tingles down your spine that energized you to talk more than usual. You filled in those silent gaps. With Rick you were at the height of your freedom. Why? You did not know. It could be due to a mutual respect stemming between the two, along with an undeniable attraction. With that attraction also came patience. He had it in abundance, so did you. Yet, that did not hold you back when he politely invited you to stop by his place after your morning date.

Bringing you to where you were, leaning against the table in his living room. The melodic chill wave music brimmed in your ears, as it ushered the vocals to finally begin:

**You got a way with words** **It takes away the hurt** **And it's a blessing and a curse to feel it all**

Looking out to the distance, you took in every word. Every line was a clear reflection of your feelings for him. So coincidental, but true. You merely hoped he would listen intently and comprehend. Slowly, your eyes began to focus on him.

**You got a way with me** **You put me in my place when I'm petty** **Give me what I want when I'm ready** **Always hold it down…**

Sensing his eyes still remained warm, a rush of boldness came over you. With just a few inches between the two, your hand rose up, slithering its way over to his neck, making a turn to end in the back of his head, hoping your fingers would hold on to his hair. Those beautiful brunette locks begged to be played with. And your fingers complied with ease. Pushing your fingers in between, you lightly attempted to scratch his head. Confidence became you when he lowered his head, his eyes closed as if to indulge in the pleasure you provided him. Just the sight of him so peaceful, you suddenly lost track of the song altogether. The words seemed unclear about of the blue, fading into the background while your heart melted by the sight of Rick. You were pleased with your influence over him. With other hand joining in, ten fingers were in a trance of their own as they traveled from his head, running softly over his collarbone down to his chest through the thin, blue cotton shirt. The music may have faded into the background, but that did not stop the both of you from swaying from side to side. You heard him chuckle deeply, reacting to your feathery touch. Bowing your head in apology, you felt embarrassed, decided to rectify the situation by moving your hands away.

Except he stopped you from doing so, by taking your hands in his, only to place them back over his chest whilst finally gazing back at you with earnest. Only then the words of the came ringing back in your delicate ears once more:

**I get lost inside all the stars in your eyes** **It's a galaxy** It was true, you really could. His eyes told a thousand stories that you wanted to be part of. Whilst pondering on that, your own eyes widened slightly as face grew closer, surprising you as he lowered his head once again, brushing his lips against your extended neck.

**You control the tide like the moon in the sky** **Or the gravity**

His lips, they teased you, placing soft kisses on the crook of your neck, that deemed most sensitive. You were tickled by his facial hair, you were even aroused, especially when you sensed a throbbing in between your thighs. He was surely a magician, or at least he was for you. Tilting your head to his side, you brushed your nose against his right temple in sheer desperation, balancing yourself by the effect of his lips, finally listening to the pre-chorus with much clarity:

**Anybody else would be gone by now** **Does it really matter?** **All that really matters**

Desperation came up another level, when you lowered your hands, tempting his to follow. Guiding them over to your waist, you made sure they stayed there. But it seemed there was no need for convincing.

**Second I'm with you, all my love pour out** **Serve it on a platter, all that really matters**

For he pulled you close, standing straight so his eyes could capture yours again. He was like a magnet, you finally allowed yourself to admit. He always was, from the moment you laid eyes on him. Feeling intoxicated without a single drop of alcohol, you felt yourself give in. Your lips cried out in silent desperation, only growing silent the moment his mouth welcomed yours, in a long awaited kiss.

**All that really matters is you keep showing up** **Promise that I'll remind you** **that you are more than enough**

Your bodies kept swaying as the kiss continued, and the music progressed into a melodic vocalise. With his grip on you growing tighter, you felt body press against yours to the most satisfying degree.

“…this was definitely not a ruse to kiss you…i swear” You muttered softly against his lips, with genuine concern. Hands leaving your waist, Rick cupped your face with an expression that was akin to the ray of the morning sun.

“I don’t care” He breathed, assuring you with another kiss, that was longer and hungrier. Patience, had clearly worn thin between the two of you.

**More than enough, More than enough, More than enough**

As the last few repeated lines appeared and faded into the soft music, you paid no attention to what song played next, nor the sky accidentally falling. For being loved by him,  at that very moment, was simply more than enough.

______________________________________

@erika92pu​ @tealaquinn​​

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[justjessame]

The Deal Chapter 10

What can be said when you finally break? Not a whole lot, honestly.

I broke. Killing Sofia, taking that responsibility from Dad, broke some tiny part of innocence I had left. I passed out and it took me all night and part of the next day to get through the trauma of killing the undead version of a little girl that Carl had been so hopeful would be rescued. Killing her, knowing that Carl would lose what sparks of faith he had left, it ripped me apart.

When I came to, Daryl was watching over me in our tent. His anger at my silence about the barn filled with walkers had passed. His worry was evident, apparently I had been talking while I was unconscious. He said I begged to die. To leave the horrors of our new reality behind. I begged for an end, for something to replace the terror we all lived in.

“Jessi, ya can’t,” he started, when he told me what I’d been moaning for, “ya can’t leave me alone here. Ya can’t.” He pulled me into his arms, as though holding me together would keep me sane. The pleading voice, the fear shined clearly in his eyes. And I nearly fell apart again.

“It was just bad dreams, Daryl,” I whispered, letting him hold on to me for dear life. “Just bad dreams, long overdue.” I pulled back so I could frame his face with my hands. “I’m right here, I’ll always be right here.”

Dad had apparently followed Hershel to a bar in town, with Glenn in tow. They’d brought back more than booze, or the smell of it anyway. A prisoner/hostage, named Randall. He was injured and our resident vet turned survivor doctor helped him heal. Of course there was dissent about what to do about the man. Two guesses who lead the charge for getting rid of him permanently, versus who lead the charge to release him once healed far away and leave him to fend for himself?

Of course the plan went to shit. Why wouldn’t it? This was the new normal wasn’t it? That you make plans and the world works against you to make sure that it all turns to crap. Shane and Dad tried, apparently, my dad’s way. Neither would go into too many details about what happened, but they both looked like shit when they got back. And Randall was still with them, so another issue.

While they were off on their field trip that made both of them look like they’d gone ten rounds with each other, Hershel’s youngest daughter, Beth tried to kill herself. First she’d gone comatose (who could blame her, I did too for a bit?), then apparently Andrea got the brilliant idea to give her the choice. Thank God, according to Lori that Beth changed her mind, and it wasn’t too fucking late. Lori told me that Andrea made some snarky comments about her and Shane, but I couldn’t focus on that backbiting crap. I was still trying to decide how I felt about being alive in this horror show.

Daryl offered to get information out of Randall. I couldn’t look at him when he returned. I couldn’t stand to think what he might have done to get any intel out of the man, not when he was wiping his hands of the blood. I focused on the living room rug. I focused on anything other than the voting going on around me about a HUMAN’S life.

Carl, my baby brother, actually told Dad that he should kill Randall. My heart broke when Dad looked at me with the terror I knew was clear on my face. My baby brother wasn’t just losing his faith, he was losing his humanity. I sat down on the sofa in Hershel’s house and missed the rest of the conversation. Had I sounded like that when I told Daryl that Andrea wasn’t going to survive? Had I been that cold, thinking it was pragmatic? What was going to happen to all of us if that became our mindset?

Dale, a humanist if I’ve ever seen one, voted against. I didn’t vote, I wasn’t listening. I stood up and walked out of the living room. I walked out of the house. I walked to the porch swing and sat down. I felt so mechanical. Like every movement since waking was just mimicry of what I’d usually do, but that I couldn’t feel myself do it. I sat on the porch, ignoring the rest of the group, their voices, their vote. I had to sit it out.

When Dale was killed the next day, by a walker who somehow found our new safe place, I knew that the world would lose to the walkers. That if a man like Dale, kind and human couldn’t make it, then what would the rest of us have to offer the gods that set this fucking plague loose on us? His funeral was a blur. So was Carol trying to let me know she didn’t blame me for ending the thing that her daughter had become. That Sofia had been dead far before I shot that arrow into her head. That I’d done what needed to be done. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore.

I barely noticed when Randall escaped. I hardly took note that Shane was the one who warned them. Not until Dad and Daryl stood before me telling me they were going to look for him did I pay the least bit of attention to what was going on around me. I was still lost in that same fog that I’d woken up to. Even when I laid down with Daryl at night, nothing seemed the same. When Dad and Daryl told me that with Glenn and Shane they’d go find Randall something sparked. A chill. A familiar chill rolled through me, but I couldn’t focus on it.

“Don’t.” I whispered, as they both stared at me. “Just don’t. Please.” I couldn’t say more, I couldn’t tell them why, but I knew that when they walked away, even more would change and I didn’t know if we would survive it.

DAYS AFTER SHANE’S DEATH, THE WALKER ATTACK AT GREENE FARM

Dad finally told us what Dr. Jenner had warned him about before blowing the entire damn CDC building sky high. He’d waited. Some would argue he waited too damn long, but he’d waited until things were at their absolute worst. The attack, after Carl was forced to put a bullet in Shane’s head, the rush from the farm, the side of a freeway, that’s when he finally had to tell us. Had to because Carl asked the question no one knew we had to ask. How had Shane turned when he hadn’t been bitten? Daryl had a similar question, because Randall had turned as well, and as far as he and Glenn had seen, there wasn’t a bite on him either.

And so, when things couldn’t seem bleaker, Dad proved they could. Now we knew. People didn’t have to be bitten to become a walking nightmare. They just had to die with their brain intact. I looked around the group and suddenly realized that it was even worse, we’d lost more people. Andrea, even if I thought it would happen didn’t mean I reveled in it, was gone. Patricia and Jimmy, gone. I blinked back tears. Enough, Jessi, I scolded myself as I watched the others become angry with Dad. Angry with his lack of warning. Enough.

“Enough.” I said, loud enough to be heard, not loud enough to get us attacked again. “Just stop. Stop being pissed. Stop being angry with Dad. Stop.” I looked up and realized that it had been days since anyone heard me speak. “Does this really change our situation? Knowing that we can all become whatever the hell those beasts are, does it change anyone’s urge to survive?” They all watched me. “I can’t do this. I can’t listen to the anger, and irritation at ONE more fucking thing we can’t change.”

Daryl slipped behind me to hold me. Offering what comfort he could. “She’s right. Don’t matter. We still gotta stay alive.”

“There’s a place for us,” Dad said, taking heart in my strength and conviction. “I wasn’t sure Jenner was right. Not until I killed Shane.” I noticed that Lori wasn’t looking at him and I knew that he’d told her before us. “Carl had to put him down.” The group grew quiet.

“Rick has honor,” Daryl’s voice shocked all of us. “I know he ain’t lying because I tracked Randall. He wasn’t bit. And Shane’s story didn’t match what we found.” My hands linked with his where he’d wrapped his arms around me.

Maggie speaks up to try to get Glenn to leave, that the rest of us aren’t for them. Hershel shushed her.

“I killed my best friend for you people, for Christ’s sake.” Dad nearly roared. I watched my baby brother bury his head in Lori’s shoulder. “Maybe you all are better off without me. I say there’s a place for us, but maybe it is another pipe dream.” I notice that no one seems to be leaving. “No takers? If you’re staying, this isn’t a democracy anymore.” He turned to walk away, and I pulled out of Daryl’s arms and rushed after him.

“Daddy?” I whispered once we’d gotten far enough away from the others. He turned and opened his arms. I rushed forward and let him wrap me up like he had from the moment I breathed air for the first time. “Thank you.”

“He was dangerous, baby, he was.” Dad breathed into my hair. “Lori knows it, but I’m not sure she’s gonna forgive it.” He sighed. “The others? They need to understand-”

I nodded against his chest. “I know.” I breathed in deeply, even through the sweat and blood, he still smelled like my daddy. “I know, I’ll try to help you as best I can. And I think Daryl will too.”

“Sure will,” Daryl’s voice spoke quietly from behind me. “I meant it, Rick, ya got honor. Bastard lied about too damn much.” He stayed a distance from us, letting me and Dad comfort one another for a moment. “Gonna be hard, gotta find somewhere before winter, and definitely before your next little one comes.”

“I’ve got the two of you,” Dad answered, releasing me and smiling at Daryl. “Should be a hellava help.”

#daryl dixon x ofc #negan x ofc #angst #The Walking Dead #alternative universe #rick grimes daughter #character death #miscarriage #mental illness #Smut

[alexisthedevilsfox]

Hi guys, this is special moodboard because there’s a story attached to it. It’s @lace-maze​ fault because she mentioned Soulmate AU and I immediately had an idea for a story. 

It’s Schneeplebro (Henrik x Chase) and it’s Soulmate AU where the first thing they say to you is written on your body (in their handwriting). 

@pistachio-lan​ @murder-schmurder​ - Tagging you two because I think you might like it 😉

Also… Thank you, Lace for being my beta reader and helping me with the right words and stuff 💕💕 

Now… without further ado, let’s begin.

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“Well hello there, handsome.”

That was written on Henrik’s forearm in messy handwriting and when he was old enough to understand it, he liked the idea that his soulmate would think he’s handsome. It was something he looked for when he had a bad day or when he freaked out because of exams.

However, as time went by, he realized that finding his soulmate would be almost impossible. A lot of people ended up never finding their soulmate. At best, it took years and years to finally find them. Henrik didn’t have that luxury; with him trying to get his PhD, he was glad to find time to just sleep and eat. The sentence on his hand became what it always was, just a sentence. He knew it was there but he just ignored it and two years later, he met Lydia. They met in the library and found that they had a lot in common, so they decided to go on a date. They both pretended that their soulmate wasn’t waiting somewhere in the world for them, because they had each other, and that was enough. It was enough to get married and have two children and Henrik knew that they were happy.

But then, Lydia found her soulmate.

It was a tennis instructor named Rick, someone so obviously Lydia’s other half. Henrik couldn’t even be angry at her. Not when he could see she was happy, far happier that she had been with him.

Henrik was jealous. The last time he cried was the day their daughter was born, but he couldn’t help crying again now. Lydia tried to comfort him. She put her hand on his shoulder and with a gentle smile told him she believed he would find his soulmate too. It was bittersweet, but he was grateful that at least for a while she was his wife.

Once he calmed down, they decided what to do next. They sat down with James and Freddie and explained what had happened and what’s going to happen now. They already knew about soulmates, because he and Lydia had already talked to them about it, but they still had a lot of questions.

Both of them answered patiently and assured the kids that they still loved them and that none of this was their fault.

Divorce was fast after that and because Henrik himself didn’t need such a large house, he moved away. He found a small apartment that was enough, but of course there was an extra room for his kids. He was able to see them almost every weekend or when he had time off, and for which he was very happy and always pleased with the smile the kids gave him when he showed up.

Unfortunately, three years passed and he was still alone. He had assumed it, but he still hoped that maybe… maybe his soulmate would show up after all

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One day, when Henrik had the kids with him again, he didn’t know what they could do, but his children came up with an idea. From what they were saying, Henrik understood that they were watching a man on YouTube who had a channel named Bro Average and that he was doing a variety of videos, including skateboard tricks. Apparently, there would be a show in their town that day where different people show their tricks and one of them should be the man. If the doctor remembered correctly, they said his name was Chase. They begged him to go and see him. What kind of father would Henrik be if he said no?

So right there Henrik was. He watched a bunch of teenagers and adults trying to break their neck in a cool way and he hated it. Well… it was impressive… that much he could say, but still… he saw the fractures and injuries that could have happened and he didn’t like it. But he also saw James and Freddie’s enthusiastic expressions, so he kept quiet.

Then, as soon as the man with bright green hair showed up on the ramp, his children and other people began to scream. He couldn’t be much younger than Henrik, wearing black jeans and a loose gray shirt. Henrik admitted to himself that the man was really cute, and with that smile and energetic appearance he understood why his children were watching him. He was introduced as Chase Brody and he gave the audience a wave. Then hopped on the skateboard and the show began. He was really good and the audience cheered and screamed his name until something happened. Henrik didn’t see what caused it, he only saw as the man fell down from a really high ramp and bumped his head. Someone screamed in horror and people ran to him.

Henrik knew subconsciously that they had it under control, but the doctor in him did not, so he jumped over the railing with a cry that he’s a doctor and ran to the injured man. Nobody tried to stop him, so he knelt beside the green haired man and examined him thoroughly. There was no blood and the man groaned in pain but opened his bright blue eyes, immediately fixating them on the doctor. For a moment Brody just looked at Henrik with a blank expression but then he smiled.

“Well hello there, handsome.” Said the green-haired man, and Henrik just shook his head. It seemed that Mr. Brody was perfectly fine if he was trying to flirt with him.

“I think you have a slight concussion but thank you” Henrik replied and helped Brody sit up. He wanted to look more closely at his head to make sure everything was all right. But then he realized what Brody had said.

“You just… you said my sentence.” He said in shock, staring into those bright blue eyes.

“And you said mine.” Brody smiled even more than before. “It’s nice to finally meet you, handsome soulmate.” He said.

“I… uh… I should take you to the hospital to… to make sure your head is okay.” The doctor said, his cheeks slightly pink.

“Nah… it’s fine. This isn’t my first rodeo. How about some tea instead? Or coffee. I don’t mind either. By the way… I’m Chase. Chase Brody.” The green haired man introduced himself.

“I’m Henrik but… I can’t right now. I have my kids with me because they wanted to see you. They’re your fans” He gestured toward where his kids stood. Chase glanced in that direction and waved as soon as he spotted them.

“That’s cool and we can take them with us. I also have children around the same age, so I know how to handle them.” Chase smiled again. Henrik was absolutely mesmerized by his blue eyes and smile. He was a really beautiful man and he really wanted to know more about him. That was why he agreed with what Chase had suggested.

They left the skatepark and, of course, picked up Henrik’s children, who were absolutely thrilled that their dad was a soulmate of their favorite YouTuber. They went to a café that was nearby and ordered tea for the kids and Chase, while Henrik ordered coffee. 

While they waited for their ored, Freddie and James bombarded Chase with question after question, covering for their father’s nervous and excited silence. Thankfully, Chase just laughed and answered each one with all the patience of a good father. Henrik couldn’t help smiling as he watched, relieved that the three of them were getting along so naturally. He hoped Chase’s kids would like him just as much.

They were interrupted only when the waitress brought them their order, but as soon as they thanked her, they started to debate again. When Freddie and James were satisfied, they finally let their father ask questions. But Henrik was not like his eager children, and he let Chase ask what he wanted to know, so they took turns. 

But after some time, Henrik had to excuse himself.

“I’ll be right back, just going to the bathroom.” He said, got up from the table and went to the toilet. 

The doctor wasn’t gone too long, but when he was coming back to the table, he heard his son talking to Chase in a serious voice.

“You’re our favorite YouTuber and you’re cool but if you hurt our dad, you’re gonna pay for it.” James said and Freddie nodded in agreement. Henrik had no idea how to react. He wanted to scold them that they can’t talk to people like that, but he was also deeply touched that they care for him so much.

“Don’t worry, dudes. I would never want to hurt your dad. He’s my soulmate…” Chase starts answering, then notices Henrik and smiles at him, „and he’s even better than I ever imagined my soulmate to be.” he winked at him.

“You’re such a flirt!” Henrik laughed as he sat back in his chair.

“Yeah, but I’m your flirt from now on, so deal with it.” He gave him a quick answer, with a big grin on his face. 

“God, what are you punishing me for?” the doctor jokingly asked.

“Hey!” Chase pouted, while Freddie and James giggled.

Henrik felt like he was dreaming. This was something he wished for so long that it was almost unreal that it really happened. He could feel tears in his eyes, so he blinked rapidly to stop them from spilling out. But one of them found its way out anyway, so he wiped it with his hand, hoping that no one noticed. But Chase did. He reached out and took Henrik’s hand in his, squeezing it lightly as an assurance that everything is okay. Henrik mouthed a ‘thank you’ to him and smiled. He believed that from now on, things would be much better than ever… because now, he finally had his soulmate with him. 

#ScheepleBro #ego shipping #egoshipping #chase brody #henrik von schneeplestein #soulmate AU #schneeplebro

[weretheones]

Twenty-Four Hours- Daryl Dixon

Plot/Request: Anon requested- “Hi! I was wondering if you would do an imagine where Daryl and the reader were close, like friends who liked each other but never confessed. Then she gets pissed at him for leaving with Merle and the next time they see each other they have a big fight which leads to them confessing their feelings? By the way I love your blog!”

Word count:
 2,224

Warnings: swearing, nothing else i think? 

Note:
 hi hi hi heres another angsty daryl piece lol.. angsty daryl is the best daryl sry not sry. on another note i’m waiting on uni acceptances and i’m nervous asf.. 

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   The sight of Daryl and his brother brought a foul taste to your mouth. It’d barely been twenty-four hours since he left, but you knew things would never be the same. His choice had been made, regardless of his reappearance now. When he’d left you knew whatever the two of you shared was gone, shattered, like your heart.

  You’d begged him to stay, but he ignored your pleas.

  “Daryl, don’t go.” You mumbled, grabbing onto his arm. It was coated in dirt and blood. You looked up to his face with teary eyes. He refused to make eye contact with you.

  “I have to, (Y/N).” He grunted, shaking your hand off his arm. It dropped down to your side as you breathed shaky breaths.

  “What about all of us? What about the others?”  Or me, you thought, but a lack of courage stopped you from saying so.

  Daryl continued to pack up his stuff from the back of the car, weakly responding to you, “He’s my brother.”

  You looked into his distracted eyes as you croaked out, “You know the Governor’s gonna attack hard. You’re leaving us, we won’t survive without you there to help.”

  His eyes turned hard again. He swung the backpack around his body, settling it on his shoulder. He turned to you slightly, looking down at your boots.

  “You’re tough. You’ll be okay.”

  “No, Daryl.” You whimpered, exposing your feelings for a moment. It was a last resort. “Daryl, I can’t— I can’t lose you.”

  He hated the way your voice cracked when you spoke to him. He hated that he was the reason it was doing so.

  There was no denying the butterflies that erupted in his stomach for what you said. Not once did he consider he might mean so much to you. He thought you simply thought of him as a companion, nothing more. His heart fluttered as he thought perhaps you felt the same way he did about you.

  But then the thoughts of self-doubt sunk into him again. There was no way you could. Why would you even want to? You were amazing, he was, well, he was just Daryl.

  He breathed deeply, gripping the strap on his shoulder tightly before speaking again, “’N I can’t leave ‘m. I can’t.”

  You wanted to say something to make him stay but you didn’t know what. Hell, you’d already opened up yourself to him, basically confessing what he meant to you and even that hadn’t done the trick.

  It was useless. This was useless.

  You bit your lip, looking at his face one more time as a single tear rolled down your cheek. He finally looked at you, staring at the droplet making its way down your skin. His heart ached inside his chest, a look of weakness overcoming his face for a moment. When your eyes met you stared at each other, pain evident in both of you, before you turned on your heel and walked away.

  All you wished was for him to pull you back. To embrace you in his arms and tell you he wouldn’t leave. But he didn’t.

  This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t.

  But it did. Overnight your hopes of his return dissipated into anger. You were furious. The man had left, abandoned your family, to go be with his jerk of a brother. Only to turn back up in from too the prison after the Governor had attacked— killing Axel in the process.

  Axel was a good guy from what you could tell. Admittedly creepy, but a good guy all around. You found yourself blaming his death on Daryl, as well as the loss of the prison’s field.

  The others welcomed him sweetly as if he hadn’t decided to give up on them just hours ago. Carol hugged him and you forced yourself to ignore the ping of jealousy as you watched them embrace.

  Rick pat him on the back, squeezing his shoulder slightly. Daryl only nodded, but you could tell he was happy to be back. In fact, everyone was happy he was back. Everyone except you.

  You made eye contact across the cell block. Your eyes were narrowed into a somewhat empty yet harsh glare. He only looked at you, frankly too scared to say or do anything else. Before anybody could say anything you turned sharply and walked away. Again.

  The others hashed out the issue with Merle. Honestly, you couldn’t care less what they did with him. Put him in a cell or not, it didn’t matter to you. That Dixon wasn’t your problem right now. Daryl was.

  Night had fallen. You’d spent the day ignoring Daryl as much as possible, finding excuses to slip away whenever he entered the same room as you. It was mostly because you knew talking to him would only resort in a fight, but also, you were embarrassed by what had happened.

  In your eyes, Daryl’s leaving was a rejection. You had done all but kiss him to tell him how you felt, it was clear. At least, that's what you thought. Daryl still had managed to convince himself you only thought of him as a friend— and even that was pushing it.

  Noticing the tension that followed you, Rick asked you to take guard duty for a couple of hours. He figured that it’d help you get your mind off things, distract you. If anything, the fresh air would help calm you. You agreed, knowing he was right.

  It was quiet for the first hour. You didn’t really expect the Governor to attack again after today. It seemed all he wanted to do was trap you, starve you out. Perhaps in a few days, he may come back, but not tonight.

  Still, you watched with intensive eyes around the prison’s fences and the edge of the forest surrounding you.

  You lowered the binoculars from your eyes, letting them fall into your lap. Your body was leaning against the picnic table behind you. The metal was cold against you, the feeling seeping into your skin even through the thick sweater you wore.

  Walkers stumbled around the yard. They scattered it randomly, some finding their way to the second gate, where you were close to. You watched with sad eyes as the first spot you’d cleared in the prison was now overrun again.

  Remembering the glee that had overtaken you at that moment your chest ached. It was a beautiful day, hot, but beautiful. Everything had felt so right, so good. It had been the first win for you all in a long time.

  Now it was gone again. That glee replaced with fury as you thought about how it was lost. About everything you’d gone through since that day. Amputating Hershel’s leg, losing Lori and T-dog, almost losing Carol and more recently, Daryl.

  Daryl.

  Deep down, past the anger and hurt you were happy to have him back. Even if you weren’t together, he was still your friend. Someone you could trust, rely on. 

  As if your thoughts of Daryl summed him, he approached from inside the prison. You looked back at the noise of the thick metal door opening behind you, only to snap your head back forward when you realized it was him.

  He ignored the voice in the back of his head that called for him to go back. That you didn’t want him there, that you hated him for what he’d done. Still, he walked to the bench you sat at in front of the table, sitting a foot and a half away from you.

  His crossbow pushed into him as he leaned back slightly, but he ignored it, instead fiddling with the strap around his right shoulder.

  You refused to speak first, even if it was to tell him off.

  When he did, your shoulders tensed visibly.

  “You’re avoidin’ me.”

  You only scoffed, keeping your eyes glued forward on the walkers ahead of you. As if they were what actually plagued your mind.

  The looming sense of fear Daryl once felt was pushed away now, anger beginning to take its place. It grew inside him as he snapped at you, “Funny. You ‘ere going off ‘bout how ya can’t lose me, now ya can’t even look at me?”

  This only made your blood boil. You couldn’t believe how he would bring such a thing up. Especially like this.

  “Oh shut up, Daryl.” You spoke harshly, without as much as a look to him still, “Just shut up. I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want you here. Just go.”

  “‘Cuse me?—“

  You cut him off, standing up abruptly and turning to face him. You were screaming now, “Why are you even here? Huh? You were pretty fucking clear yesterday that you don’t want anything to do with me.”

  He stood up to face you now, leaning down to get in your face.

  “What’s your problem, girl?” He yelled back, “Huh?”

  Even in the dim moonlight, you both could see each other's faces grow red, the views protruding from your skin as you yelled with force.

  “You!” With just enough force you pushed his body back a bit. He caught himself with his foot and didn’t step forward again. Instead, you pushed yourself into him, raising a finger in his face accusingly.

  “You are my problem. You left, you fucking left.”

  “I had ta’!” He yelled back, defensively.

  Ignoring what he’d said you continued to yell into his face, “You left us, you left me! Fuck, Daryl, I basically begged you to stay and you still left.”

  If not for the anger spilling out of you, you’d be distracted by how close you were to him. Only inches separating your skin from touching.

  His head tilted down toward you, his body taking a defensive stance. “What as I ‘posed to do? He’s my goddamn brother!”

  Still ignoring what he was saying you just rambled, letting your all your thoughts escape your lips, “Hell, I even told you I needed you. How stupid is that? You still walked away, you still left.” With the feeling of tears flooding your eyes you paused for a moment, allowing your body to relax back into the ground. Without even realizing it you’d raised your body to reach his. Your head shook, a quiver in your lip as you spoke, softer this time, “And to think, I thought you cared too.”

  He inched back a little, no longer appearing so defensive as he had just seconds ago. His voice was still rough, but now a little nervous and a little softer, “I do.”

  You shook your head harder, looking to your boots. “No. Not like how I do.”

  “What do ya mean?”

  A bitter scoff left your lips as you looked back up to him now. “What do I mean? How else would I mean it? I fucking love you!” You're words left your mouth smoothly, and loudly, as you confessed your love for the man in front of you. “And you.. you.. broke my heart.” Yet when you spoke again, you stumbled over your words, “Y--you left.”

  Daryl had barely noticed. In all honesty, he was too shocked too. Never in his life would he expect those words to leave your mouth. Never would he have expected you to care for him this much, nevertheless love him. To him, it seemed silly. Like he’d thought yesterday, you were so great. Strong, smart, beautiful. How could you see him as someone worthwhile?

  Though his voice caught in his throat, he stuttered, “Ya— ya love me?”

  “Yeah. I thought it was pretty obvious.” You muttered to the ground. Almost instantly you regretted telling him if he’d left you earlier, you didn’t think now would be any different.

He continued to stammer, “I— I didn’t think—“

  “Look it’s fine you don’t,” With a deep sigh you cut him off, “You don’t have to say anything.”

  With sad eyes you looked down to your feet, watching as you began to walk away from your post and past Daryl. But as you stepped beside his dirty boots a hand grabbed onto your shoulder, pulling you back softly.

  Before you knew it, Daryl wrapped his arms around your body. He stuffed his face into your neck, holding tightly onto you. You hadn’t expected this, but that didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy it. Your arms snaked up his body, hugging him back tightly. 

  “If I had known, (Y/N).”

  “He’s your brother.” You mumbled, knowing that he had his reasons. You’d known that all along, but never wanted to admit it. It was easier to be mad at him than to cry over him.

  ”I don’t know how to do this stuff, (Y/N). I ain’t like this, never was. But I can promise ya this. I ain’t ‘ver gonna leave ya again, ya hear? Never.”  

  A shaky sigh left your lips as you basked in the comedown. The fight, the confession, and now this. It was a lot, but completely worth it for the feeling of Daryl’s arms around you now.

  You smiled into him as you nuzzled your head into his chest. He brushed his lips against the top of your head, leaving the softest of kisses.

  And for the second time in the last twenty-four hours, you knew things would never be the same.

#daryl #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl / reader #daryl dixon / reader #daryl dixon angst #twd #twd imagine #twd oneshot #twd fanfiction #The Walking Dead #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fic #the walking dead fanfiction #Norman Reedus #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl dixon imagine

[daryls-dixon-antoni]

Chapter 33.) Service

"Mom, Hope's crying. I think she's hungry."

"Okay," I respond, softly.

"Mom, she needs you, I need you."

I look over at my son, ready to snap at him, when I hear Rick's voice call, "Anne, he's here, we need you."

My feet move before my brain processes why. I follow Rick to the gate seeing Negan talking with Spencer in front of Eugene and Rosita.

"I know I had to make a pretty strong first impression," I hear Negan say to Spencer as we get there. "Well, hello, there." He greets Rick once he see's him.

Rick doesn't respond and Negan glares, "Do not make me have to ask."

"You said a week," Rick says, opening the gate. "You're early."

Negan grins, "I missed you."

I see the dead approaching from behind Negan and hope he bites him.

Negan grins even wider and says, "Oh, Rick, come on out here." He starts backing up towards the dead. "Watch this. Calling it!"

He hits the dead with his bat and when I blink an image of Glenn's headless body, and Abraham's crushed in skull swims behind my eyelids. "Ha ha ha! Easy peasy lemon squeezy! All right, everybody. Let's get started." When I look to see the men he brought my heart drops seeing Daryl, beaten up and in loose fitting sweat clothes with a spray painted A on them. My head starts swimming, especially when I look towards the movement out of the corner of my eye to notice Mason carrying Hope towards us.

Towards Negan.

"Big day. Hey, Rick, you see that, what I just did? That is some service! I mean, we almost get turned away at the gate. 'Who is that guy, anyway?' Do I get mad? Do I throw a fit? Do I bash some ginger's dome in? Nope. I just take care of one of these dead pricks that could've killed one of y'all. Service." He walks forward and thrusts his bat into Rick's hand as he walks by saying, "Hold this."

"Hot diggity dog! This place is magnificent! An embarrassment of riches, as they say. Yes, sir, I do believe you are gonna have plenty to offer up." As Negan's chuckling, I'm stood next to Rick, with Mason behind me and Hope in my arms.

Rick walks towards Daryl saying, "Daryl, hey-"

Negan steps forward and sternly cuts him off, "No. Nope. He's the help."

I step forward timidly, "Can I at least introduce him to his daughter?" I can hear my blood flowing through my ears as I ask. Hoping beyond hope that he wouldn't hurt a newborn. I mostly said it to let Daryl know the baby is okay. That she made it.

"No. You don't look at him, you don't talk to him, and I don't make you chop anything off of him. Same goes for everyone," he practically sings as he aproaches Rosita, “Right?”

He then approaches Rick again and says, "A lot of suspense there. I don't think she even knew how much. All right, let's get this show on the road. See what kind of goodies you got in the cupboard."

"We put aside half the supplies," Rick says.

"No, Rick. No. You don't decide what we take. I do." He turns to his people, "Arat."

A woman with blond hair that hasn't been died in ages yells, "You heard the man. Move out!" His people start walking forward and Negan turns back to Rick.

"They're just gonna search the houses a bit, keep the process movin'." He sighs, "All right. You gonna show me around or not?" When Rick doesn't respond he says, "Well?"

Rick starts moving, and I hand Hope to Mason and whisper, "Try to stay as far away from anyone that isn't ours, keep her safe."

He nods quickly before asking, "Does Daryl count as the people I have to avoid?"

I nod, "For now, yes. Now go."

I quickly follow behind Rick and Negan, knowing that was Rick's request earlier.

As we walk we see some men carrying an arm chair out of one of the homes as Negan says, cheerily, "You see this? This is the kind of thing that just tickles my balls. A little cooperation and everything is pleasant as punch. You see, we really are reasonable people once you get to know us. Honest." He opens a cooler and grabs a can of something, opens it, drinks it then crushes it. "Ohh, Man. Damn, I love this place!"

A man calls his name and approaches with Deanna's camera. "Somethin' you might wanna see."

"Well, well, well." Negan cheers, "What do we have here? I got my fingers crossed for a little freaky-deaky."

He starts playing Rick's tape from the interviews with Deanna. The ones from when we first arrived here, "know me. I've killed people. I don't even know how many by now."

"Jee-hee-sus!" Negan says, looking at the camera.

"But I know why they're all dead." Rick’s voice continues.

"Is that you, Rick, underneath all that man-bush?"

The tape keeps playing, "They're dead so my family, all those people out there, can be alive."

"Shee-ot. I would not have messed with that guy." He clicks the camera and starts recording, "But that's not you anymore is it?" He turns the camera to himself, "Nope." He turns the camera off. "I really gotta shave this shit.” He says, about his facial hair. “Whatever happened to that sick girl? That seemed like a hell of a stressful night for her. The way she was carrying on; she was married to number two, right?" He continues, "Careful. Careful how you're lookin' at me, Rick. Widows, especially ones that look like that," he breathes out and I start shaking slightly. "They are special. I love 'em. Right after their husbands go, they are just... empty inside. But usually not for long." He chuckles, "Ahh. Where is she? I would love to see her."

"Do you care to pay your respects?" I turn to see Father Gabriel has approached us.

"Ho-ly crap! You are creepy as shit, sneaking up on me, wearin' that collar with that freaky-ass smile."

"My apologies. I'm Father Gabriel."

Negan pauses, looking taken aback, "She didn't make it?" None of us respond, not giving him the satisfaction.

We end up in the cemetary and I have to try my hardest not to let Daryl know that Maggie's fine.

"Damn tragedy. That's what this is." Negan breathes deeply. "Well, this must really suck for you guys. Number one? That was on me. No choice there. Lessons had to be learned. But number two? That didn't need to happen. Daryl, there, he forced my hand." I bite my lip so I don't correct him. Don't get anyone killed. "Probably put her right on her back, huh? Damn. I was gonna ask her to come back with me. Oh, I know what you're thinkin'. How could I have a shot, guy that just bashed her husband's head in?" He chuckles, "You'd be surprised. Boy, people, they-" he's cut off by the distant sound of a gunshot. Negan starts walking away and as we get to the house where the sound came from, I see it's ours.

Once we make it in the room we hear one of Negan's men say, "Kid what do you think happens next?"

"You die," Carl responds, aiming a gun at the man.

"Carl. Carl, put it down." Rick begs.

"No. He's taking all of our medicine. They said only half our stuff."

Negan chuckles, "Of course. Oh-ho. Really, kid?"

Carl turns to Negan, "And you should go. Before you find out how dangerous we all are."

"Well, pardon me, young man.

Excuse the shit out of my goddamn french, but did you just threaten me? Look, I get threatening Davey here, but I can't have it. Not him, not me."

"Carl, just put it down." Rick begs, again.

"Don't be rude, Rick. We are having a conversation here. Now, boy, where were we? Oh, yeah. Your giant, man-sized balls. No threatening us. Listen, I like you, so I don't want to go hard proving a point here. You don't want that. I said half your shit, and half is what I say it is. I'm serious. Do you want me to prove how serious? Again?"

"Carl, Hunny. Put the gun down." I whisper, gently.

Carl turns back to me briefly, before sighing and giving Rick the gun.

Negan takes it from Rick, "You know, Rick. This whole thing reminds me that you have a lot of guns. There's all the guns you took from my outpost when you wasted all my people with a shit-ton of your own guns. And I'm bettin' there's even more. Which adds up to an absolute ass-load of guns, and as this little emotional outburst just made crystal clear; I can't allow that. They're all mine now. So tell me, Rick. Where are my guns?"

We get to the armory, and Olivia stays calm, "I... figured you were coming.”

"Show him where the guns are, Olivia." Rick says.

"The armory's inside," she turns around and makes her way to the door leading into the actual armory.

"You run the show in here?" Negan asks.

She stops, turns half around, "I-I just keep track of it all, the rations, the guns."

"Good. Smart. Don't let me stop you. Take her out, boys. Show 'em the goods." She leads his men in and I go to follow but hesitate when I hear Negan say, "Wait, wait, wait. While they're at it, I just want to point out to you that I'm not taking a scrap of your food. Slim pickin's in here." I turn around. “And I can't be the only one to notice that you got a fat lady in charge of keeping track of rations, can I? Either way, you starve to death; I don't get shit. So, for now; you get to keep all the food. How 'bout that?"

"What do you want me to say?" Rick asks, hoarsely.

"I don't know, Rick. How about a thank you. You think that might be in order? Or is that too much to ask?!"

When Rick doesn't say anything I speak up, "It's hard ... for him, y'know... he was close to Glenn... even closer to D" I take a deep breath, "Daryl. You can understand?"

Negan laughs, "Ohh. I know we started off on the wrong foot, but what can I say?" He turns to look Rick in the eye, "You forced my hand, Rick. But it's like I've been tryin' to tell you; I'm a very reasonable man as long as you cooperate. So let me ask you a question, Rick. Are you cooperating?"

"What's it look like?" Rick asks.

"Oh-ho-ho. I know what it looks like. But what I really want to know is if we're gonna find all the guns back there or if maybe; you got a few just waitin' for their moment? Just like my Lucille."

"They're all in there, to the best of my knowledge."

"Mm. I am countin' on that, Rick." Negan brushes past me and into the Armory and Rick and I exchange looks.

"I had it handled," Rick whispers, angrily.

"No, you didn't. So I helped, that's why I'm here, right? I'm your temporary replacement for Daryl, right? Because you don't have it handled."

He gives me an almost shocked expression for my sharp tone. Yet, somehow I can’t find it in myself to care. He’s letting this man run our lives after he murdered our own, man napped Daryl, and now he just gets to walk around our home talking in his annoying ass sing-songy voice and lean around exaggeratedly without a care in the world.

"You know what today is, Rick? Today is a banner day. Yes, it is. I think this little arrangement we have is gonna work out just fine." I keep my breath held as Daryl comes out of the armory, helping Negan's men load up his vehicles.

"Hold up." I freeze completely, worried my glance in Daryl's direction was going to get him killed. Instead, Negan takes a grun from Daryl's pile and says, "Let's see if you've been taking care of my guns." He cocks the gun, aims it at Daryl and I feel the tears coming to my eyes as I watch as if in slow motion Daryl just continue working, as if he didn't have a gun on him.

When he shoots, he hits a window and not Daryl and I let out a choked breath.

"Feels good. Sounds good! Oh, I do believe Lucille's gettin' a little jealous. Well, ho-ly smokes!" He takes the rocket launcher that one of his men just retrieved. "Look at this! It was you guys that took out Little Timmy and the Dick Brigade? Wow, Rick. Gettin' in your last licks. Ooh, man, I'm gonna have some fun with this."

"Please, I-I don't know for-" when I look over to Olivia's distressed voice, I see the woman Negan had addressed earlier dragging Olivia up the stairs to the outside.

Negan looks at his woman and chastizes, "Arat, we don't do that unless they do somethin' to deserve it."

"Yeah, we went through the inventory. Guns in the armory, guns they had around the walls, they're short." She pulls Olivia's notebook out from underneeth her arm and hands it to Negan, "Glock 9 and a .22 Bobcat."

Negan turns to Olivia, "Is that true?" Olivia nods and Rick speaks up.

"We had some people leave town. Those guns probably went with them."

"So Olivia sucks at her job. Is that what you're sayin'?"

"No. No, I'm not sayin' that."

"There should be a full accounting here, right? Top to bottom. Am I right?"

"No," Olivia responds, surprising me. "I mean, yes. The inventory is correct."

"Good," Negan says, then steps closer to Olivia, "But not so good, too. You see, what's in here," he holds up her notebook, "isn't in there. You're two handguns short. Do you know where they are?"

"No... I..." she trails off.

Negan sighs, turning back to Rick, "That's disappointing, Rick. I thought that we had an understanding. But this, well, this shows that someone's not on board, and I can't have that." He gets even closer to Olivia and says, "I don't enjoy killing women. Men; I can waste them all the live long. But at the end of the day, Olivia, my dear, this was your responsibility."

"Look," Rick interrupts, "we can work this out."

"Oh, yes, we can. And I'm going to; right now." Olivia whimpers, "This was your job, and you screwed up. Keeping track of guns? That shit is life and death."

We are in the church with the town of Alexandria. Rick's at the front speaking, "I thought about hiding some of the guns. I did it before. I figured I could bury some out there," he points outside of the church. "Maybe we don't touch them for years."

"Years?" Tobin asks.

"Yeah. That's right. But what if the Saviors find those guns? What if we run into them when we have those guns on us? One of us dies. Maybe more than that. Maybe a lot more. Doesn't matter how many bullets we have. It isn't enough. They win. It's that black-and-white. Hiding a couple of guns isn't the answer, not anymore. We don't have to like it, but we need to give them over. A Glock 9 and a .22. That's what they're looking for. Who has it? Someone knows where they are or they know who does. If we don't find them, they're gonna kill Olivia. They'll do it."

One of the townspeople stands up and asks, "Why do they care? Two guns aren't a threat to them. But those guns could help protect us from whatever else is out there."

"Do you have 'em?" Rick asks.

"Wish I did," the man responds, sitting back down.

"Most of you weren't there. You didn't have to watch."

I stand up, "They killed Abraham to get a point across. They killed Glenn because Daryl stood up to them. They bashed Glenn's head in. To the point he didn't even have one.”

Rick puts a hand up, "That's enough Anne." When I sit back down next to Mason, Rick continues, "Listen, you can look away now; when someone else dies. Or you can help solve this. We give them what they want, and we live in peace."

Eric stands up, "Say we find the guns. How are we gonna get out of this, Rick?"

"There is no way out of this," Rick responds. "Let me put this to all of you as clearly as I can. I'm not in charge anymore. Negan is. Now, who has the guns?"

It's silent for a long time before Eugene speaks up, "Not everyone's here."

I'm in Spencer’s house with Rick, he's looking everywhere for the guns while I watch.

Gabriel comes in and says, "Nothing. Still. I just, I feel like I know this is going to work out."

"How?" Rick asks, still searching.

"We'll find the guns. We'll get through today. Then we'll find a way to go forward, how to beat this."

"There is no beating this."

"Yes, there is, somehow. I have faith in us. I have faith in you. Things change. You're my friend. It wasn't always that way. Where's Michonne? Could she possibly have-"

"She doesn't have anything they're lookin' for." Rick states, standing up. "What you did with the graves, it was quick thinkin'. Thank you."

"It was nice digging a grave I knew would stay empty." Gabe says as Aaron comes in.

"No luck?" Aaron asks.

"Nope," I respond.

"We searched the house, Rosita's. There's nothing. So what do we do now?"

"If they were anywhere, they'd be here." Rick says. "Spencer's done this kind of thing before. We keep looking. Maybe today works out."

"I'll check the garage," Aaron says, walking away.

"I'll look in Deanna's office again." Gabe agrees.

"I guess I'm rechecking upstairs." I say, heading up the stairs.

Once Rick found the guns, we head outside to see one of Negan's men pesturing Enid.

"Balloons? You going to a party, little girl?"

"Can I keep them, please?" Enid asks, "It's just... Let me keep them."

"Say please again, little girl."

"Please."

"Yeah," he puts a finger on her cheek and I have to look away as I hear him say, "One more time."

"Please," Enid responds, sharply.

"Be careful, little girl."

"They'll be gone soon," Rick whispers, and when I turn I see the judgement in Carl's eyes.

"Come on, Rick. Let's go give the guns to Negan." I say.

He nods and we approach Negan who says, "What you got for me, Rick?" Rick hands him the guns. "Well, would you look at that? They were here after all. Funny how a little 'Holy shit! Somebody's gonna die!' lights a fire under everybody's ass!"

Olivia starts crying, so instinctively I walk over and put an arm comfortably around her as Negan continues.

"So, tell me, Rick. Which one of your fine folks almost cost Olivia the rest of her days?"

"It doesn't matter anymore," Rick says.

"No, it matters. See, you need to get everybody on board. Everybody. Or we just go right back to square one."

They finally start leaving, and there is nothing I want more than to get to walk over to Daryl and hug him, have him pull me in and tell me everything is going to be okay.

"Hell of a place you got here, Rick." Negan says.

"Give me a second," I hear Rick ask.

"No," is Negan's response. I have yet to take my eyes off of Daryl.

"Please, can you just... give me a second?"

Negan starts humming and when Rick comes back, Michonne is with him, a dead deer around her shoulders.

"Look at this!" Negan cheers.

"I thought she was scavenging." Rick says, "She was hunting." I watch in horror as Rick gives Negan a rifle, "This one never came inside. We kept it near the line."

"Look at this. This is something to build a relationship on. Good for you, Rick. This is readin' the room and gettin' the message. I've said it before, I'm gonna say it again. You, sir are special."

"Now that you know we can follow your rules..."

"Yes?" Negan asks, almost singing.

"I'd like to ask you if Daryl can stay." I look gratefully at Rick.

"Not happenin'."

"Please, he has a newborn."

"You know what? I don't know. Maybe Daryl can plead his case. Maybe Daryl can sway me." Daryl keeps his eyes down. "Daryl?" When Daryl still keeps his eyes on the ground I step forward.

"Daryl, come on!" I beg.

Negan chuckles, "Well, you tried. Now what you got to do is get over that tall wall of yours and try harder out there. Earn for me. Because we're coming back soon, and when we do, you better have something interesting for us. Or Lucille... she's gonna have her way. I want you to hear that again. If you don't have something interesting for us. Somebody's gonna die. And no more magic guns. Arat, grab that deer. It's getting late. Let's go home." Michonne throws the deer down.

"Man, I love a gal that buys me dinner and doesn't expect me to put out." I hear Negan chuckle.

We watch Spencer bring Dwight Daryl's bike.

"I'll take that," Dwight says. "Rosita! Got a little thank-you. That's all you're getting back. Took all your guns, most of your beds. I hope you find a place to lay your pretty little head." He gets on Daryl's bike and says, "Did you find anything else out there?"

"Just your dead friends," Rosita shoots back, and walks away.

Dwight revs up Daryl's bike and for a moment I'm brought back to the memory of me riding with Daryl to lead the dead away from Alexandria. How it felt to be so close to his body as we helped our community.

I watch in disgust as he rides over to Daryl and says, "You can have it back. Just say the word." When Daryl doesn't respond, Dwight rides off.

"So, nobody died." Negan says to Rick. "And you know what I think? I think you and I, we've refined our understanding. Let me ask you something, Rick. Do you want me to go?"

"I think that'd be good." Rick says.

"Then just say those two magical words."

"Thank you," Rick says.

Negan laughs, "Don't be ridiculous. Thank you."

As another of the dead makes his way towards our community, Negan says, "Another one. You need our help. Davey, hand me that candlestick over there." The man called Davey hands it over. "You know what I think, Rick? I think we're both gonna come out of this winners. Watch my form!" He cleans out the walker in one swing.

"Ahh. Yep," he turns back to us. "Win-win." He drops the candlestick. "You should clean that up for me for next time. Let's move out!" His men start moving. "Oh, wait." Negan chuckles, turning back around, "How careless of me. You didn't think I was gonna leave Lucille, did ya? I mean, after what she did, why would you want 'er?" He takes the bat back, "Thank you for being so accommodating, friend." I watch as Negan whispers something in Rick's ear.

Then they leave, vehicle after vehicle, the last one taking Daryl away with it.

I stare as Rick closes the gates behind them, and then he approaches Spencer, "Spencer. We took the guns you had in your house. The Saviors wanted ours, all of them. There were two missing from the inventory. They were gonna kill Olivia." Spencer doesn't respond so Rick says his name.

"You went into my house?" Spencer asks.

"They were gonna kill Olivia. Look, I'm not faulting you for having the guns. I did it myself. But the food and liquor?" Rick sighs, "That's 'cause you're small, Spencer. You're weak. You got lucky with the walls. You got lucky with us." Rick starts walking away.

"We should've made a deal with them when we could've." Spencer shouts after Rick. "Oh, yeah, we're so lucky. You've led us all to the Promised Land! Isn't that right, Rick?! Here we are! I guess Glenn and Abraham were lucky, too?"

Rick stops, doesn't turn around and threatens, "You say anything like that again to me, I'll break your jaw, knock your teeth out. You understand? Say yes."

"Yes." Spencer starts walking back.

I follow after Rick to go back to my room.

There's no bed in there anymore, but they left the playpen for Hope.

When Mason walks in holding her, he sits on the floor next to me, "You know why I wanted you to name her Hope?"

I nod, "Because we need hope?"

He shakes his head, "Because you need a reminder to have hope. Ever since this started, when we lost Tonia; you started going on runs alone. When the prison fell and we were reunited, you wouldn't even let me out of this house. You are always so scared of the next bad thing, Mom. Well, this is the worst bad thing that's happened and you don't have any hope. But Hope and I need you to have hope. We need you to be here, to keep us safe."

I nod, "Okay."

#dary dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead #season 7 #chapter 33

[belphegor1982]

As of now, I can officially say this is chapter 8 of a total of 24 because I finished writing the damn thing. I promise I’ll shut up about it, but it just feels so damn good!!

FAIRY TALES AND HOKUM

Summary: 1937: Two years after the events of Ahm Shere, the O’Connells are “required” by the British Government to bring the Diamond taken there from Egypt to England. In Cairo, while Evelyn deals with the negotiations and Rick waits for doom to strike again, Jonathan bumps into an old friend of his from university, Tom Ferguson. Things start to go awry when the Diamond is stolen from the Museum and old loyalties are tested...

Chapter 8: One Long Night (on AO3 here)

“If I knew where we’re being forced to stay, I’d complain to a responsible person. The service leaves much to be desired if you ask me, and I’ve never drunk such a godawful tea.”

“That might be ‘cause this is supposed to be coffee, Jonathan.”

A pause, long enough for Rick to lift his eyes from his cup and raise an eyebrow at his brother-in-law. The Englishman was squinting at his cup the way someone would at a particularly complex mathematical equation. When he finally looked back at Rick, there was something in his slightly slanted eyes that could be interpreted as a wry smile.

“That explains it, then.”

Rick downed the last remnants of his cup in one gulp, refraining from shaking his head. Those Brits. Never happy without their sacrosanct cup of tea after a meal. And before. And every time someone knocked on the door. For eleven years now he had been living in England, but no matter how hard he’d tried this weird habit, if only for Evy’s sake, he could never, ever get used to it.

Unfortunately, for him English coffee was simply a disgrace to the name.

Still, he and Jonathan were pretty lucky that whoever was keeping them locked up had thought to send them food and drink. Although Rick really had to admit that he had seldom tasted anything as insipid as this stuff. Even back in England.

At least the smell of the now-empty plates was gone, as one anonymous goon had come a few minutes earlier to take the empty trays away, leaving only the yet-unfinished ‘coffee’ cups.

A full stomach was always good news. Between leaving the orphanage and meeting Evelyn, Rick had had a taste of a couple of prisons. Very few wardens had ever sent him a tray of basic but decent food. Usually, if they ever did, the food looked as if it had been there for over a week. Or more.

“You shouldn’t complain about the food, really,” he called over his shoulder to Jonathan, all the while making himself as comfortable as possible on the floor and crossing his arms behind his head. “Be happy they bothered to send us some. Even if it was lousy.”

The noise he got as an answer was halfway between a sniff and a snort, but he didn’t hear Jonathan change position. His brother-in-law had not moved from his spot against the wall since Ferguson left, and even if he seemed to be reverting back to his old self, there was still something on his face that bothered Rick. It was like a remnant of the haunted sort of look he’d gotten when Ferguson had pointed that gun at him in the afternoon, and Rick could not help the peculiar feeling that this was completely out-of-place. As he’d said to Evy, he and Jonathan weren’t the best of friends, but, as he’d said to Jonathan, the man was family. When all the family you’d ever had only had five people altogether, including yourself, you did everything to keep it as is. Besides, for all his faults, his brother-in-law was a pretty decent guy. Anyway, nobody should ever get that look on their face. Nobody. Ever.

Although Rick was never good at voicing concern or suchlike to anyone that wasn’t Evy, he had tried, earlier, to ask Jonathan if he was okay.

“Oh, don’t worry, Rick, old chap,” had come the reply. “I’ll be fine. I’m an Englishman, remember – Ye Olde stiff upper lip and everything.”

And that had been about all Rick had to make do with.

Every now and then, it occurred to him that while Jonathan talked a lot, there was also a lot he didn’t talk about. Not without a bottle of good single malt on hand, anyway.

Jonathan did not, for once, seem keen on making conversation, and Rick was left to his own grim thoughts. This could either be taken as a good thing – no risk of boredom – or a bad thing – as if the situation wasn’t glum enough – but anyway, he had much to think about. Like who the hell were those men and why they had taken the two of them.

He didn’t know exactly what had been Ferguson’s part in this, but it sure looked like he was in it up to his neck. In, but not at the head of things. Even if Rick had seen him give orders earlier to the gunman, the chief Oddball from the black Lincoln had not spoken about him the way an inferior in rank would.

One thing was certain, though. If Ferguson belonged to the real British Antique Research Department, then Rick O’Connell was a six year old ballerina girl.

Then again, according to what Evy had told him, Ferguson had been knocked out cold in the diamond’s room just as Jonathan had.

Rick shook his head. The more he thought about it, the more obvious it became. Even if he could not explain it, he had a feeling that this damn diamond was at the heart of things. Everything bad that had happened since they arrived in Egypt had come right after the robbery at the Museum.

If the diamond heist and their kidnapping were linked, as Rick was starting to believe, then there had to be some kind of organisation behind both deeds that used the British Antique Research Department as a front. He didn’t know who was behind this bunch of spooky weirdos in black, but it was not Ferguson. The American’s gut instincts had very rarely deceived him, and he had a hunch that the means displayed meant a great influence, which Ferguson didn’t seem to have. A great influence always meant great power. And Rick had long ago noticed that the more power some people had, the more power they sought.

According to what he knew about the guy, and what he had seen of him so far, Ferguson did not seem to be this kind of man.

Rick had been fairly surprised at Ferguson’s reaction when that Oddball had cocked his gun against Jonathan’s temple. It had all happened very quickly: the punch, his own amused blink, Ferguson’s bewildered look from the ground… Then there had been something that had felt like an icy hand grasping at his guts as the black-clad man’s gun flew to Jonathan’s head. The look on the gunman’s face had sent a chill – a slight one, but a chill all the same – up Rick’s spine. He knew the kind, having met a few like this in the Legion. This was a man who was just doing his job. His gesture had been a hundred percent professional. And Rick knew for certain that he would have pulled the trigger in perfect cold blood had Ferguson not leapt on his feet and pushed the gun away in a heartbeat.

Either Ferguson had received very strict orders, or else there was still a part of the lousy traitor that cared about his old buddy’s – or rather ‘mate’s’, as those damn Brits ever seemed to make a point of doing nothing like everybody else, least of all talk – life.

Part of Rick – a pretty small one, his cautious, often battered sense of optimism – preferred the second option. But if you asked the realistic part of his brain and what logical rationality had rubbed off on him from Evy, both were possible, the first surely more so than the last.

Rick blinked at the blank ceiling, wondering what to make of all of this. One thing was for sure: he wouldn’t want for all the world to be in his brother-in-law’s shoes right now. He’d been pretty pissed each time Beni had let him down, even if in the long run he had grown rather used to it. At least the little scumbag had never played the ‘best of buddies’ act convincingly. Sure, they’d had a few good times in the Legion, and a few good scares too, but there was never anything personal involved. Rick had known the only thing he could count on the guy for was an eventual stab in the back, and it had worked out. More or less.

Funny how things turned out eventually. From the first second he had seen Ferguson, Rick had had a feeling that the two Brits weren’t friends for nothing. They were as different as can be physically, but they did share not only a whole bunch of memories and the same nationality but also the same sense of humour, a certain ironical take on life… And a fondness for that undrinkable British beverage that could only be explained by blood legacy. That, plus Scotch.

Well, with everything they had in common, Rick would have thought that whatever friendship united them would last. At least a bit.

Guess I was wrong.

Rick shifted slightly on the floor. Beside the fact that he didn’t like silence all that much, he was slowly but surely getting bored. And tired.

“Hey, Jonathan?” he called over his shoulder. As nobody answered, he said with a crooked grin, “Lazy bum. Sleepin’ already, are ya?”

He got no reply, and propped himself up on his elbows to see if everything was all right behind him. It appeared so, he noted with a smile that was not entirely a smirk: Jonathan was sound asleep, still sitting with his back against the wall, his chin resting on his chest. He was even snoring slightly.

“Right,” Rick mumbled with a small laugh. “Thanks for the company.” Unsurprisingly, his brother-in-law didn’t bother to reply. The American put his head back on the floor, and went back to staring at the ceiling. “Well, even if you’re out of it, I’m sure you’ll agree with me when I say we really are screwed.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Rick gave a jump, quite a feat considering the fact that he was lying flat with his back on the ground. There was a reason for that. The voice he’d just heard had absolutely nothing to do with his brother-in-law’s. He didn’t know where it had come from, or who.

Only that it belonged to a woman.

“Who are you? And where the hell are you?” asked Rick, sitting straight and alert, now fully awake. He peered across the room, his eyes squinting and his brows furrowing. Nothing. It still appeared that he and Jonathan were the only occupants of the cell.

He used to believe in ghosts when he was a kid, because the older kids at the orphanage always liked to scare the younger ones with stories. Then he’d grown out of it. Sure, there were things in this world nobody could explain yet, but dead people generally stayed dead.

Of course, his first encounter with the actual undead had made him revise his judgement. After his first trip to Hamunaptra, having seen what he’d seen, he had kept his eye out for anything – anything – unlike Evelyn, who used to reject every irrational theory outright.

Rick’s opinion about strange phenomenons had been last updated at Ahm Shere. Walking, talking mummies existed, as did green little murder pygmies, and Jonathan’s common sense – though this last one was occasional.

Ghosts do not. That he knew of.

“There’s no need to be rude, sir,” came the voice. It had a British – make that English – accent, and there was something sad in it, like a sigh. What on Earth could an English ghost possibly be doing down there? “I’m just an accidental neighbour. I’m talking to you through this little air vent down the wall. Can you see it?”

So much for ghosts. Rick looked past the sleeping Jonathan, spotted the vent, and walked over to it. “Yeah, got it.”

The vent was so small that he was not surprised he had missed it at first. Rather happy to see that rationality was kicking back in – and trying not to think about Evy’s triumphant ‘I told you so!’ if she’d been there –, Rick sat in front of it, trying to make out something on the other side of the wall. His attempt failed. The vent was too tiny, and the room was definitely too dark. “Who are you, and what are you doin’ here?”

“Is this your way of introducing yourself?” The woman’s words were stuck-up, but her tone wasn’t. Evy had something like that in her voice on early mornings. “Well, I suppose I should introduce myself first. I’m Elizabeth Ferguson, and –”

“Ferguson? Wait –” Rick frowned, every internal alarm bell blaring in his mind. “Is Tom Ferguson your husband or brother or –”

“Tom is my husband, yes. Have you seen him recently? Is he all right?”

Mrs Ferguson’s voice had shifted from tired to laced with fear and concern. But you could easily fake fear and concern. In fact, Rick was torn between lashing out at the woman and asking her again what the hell she was doing there while her husband was the one that got the two of them in a cell for no apparent reason, and sympathising with her for having married such a jerk. He picked neither and forced his voice into an even tone.

“Oh, he’s fine, all right… and yes, I saw him recently. Look, this may come as a shock to you, but –”

“How do you know him, anyway? I certainly don’t know you.” Mistrust was suddenly plain in Mrs Ferguson’s low voice. Pushing back his impatience, Rick rolled his eyes and bent closer to the air vent.

“Of course you don’t know me – I didn’t know your husband a week ago. But my brother-in-law did. Now may I –”

“Who are you? What’s your name?”

Now the woman was really ticking him off. Wishing she would let him finish his sentence this time, Rick snapped, “Right. I’m O’Connell – Rick O’Connell. Got locked up in here by men with guns for a couple of hours, and your husband’s the reason why I’m here and not at home with my wife and kid. How’s that for an answer?”

There was silence on the other side of the wall, long enough to make Rick feel a little bad about his somewhat harsh reply. If what this woman had been saying so far was the truth, she apparently did not wish to be there any more than he did, and he’d just gone and thrown this piece of news right into her face. After all, she couldn’t really help it if her husband was a two-faced bastard.

Ah, well. Evelyn teased him on his somewhat rough manners often enough.

“Look, Mrs Ferguson, I didn’t mean to go off on you. I’m just pretty angry. I mean, your husband’s a friend of my brother-in-law’s. The two of them went to the Museum and they were in the Diamond of Ahm Shere’s room when it was stolen –”

“Hold – hold on, Mr O’Connell,” cut in Mrs Ferguson, in a rather subdued voice. “Do you mean the Cairo Museum? And what is this diamond you’re referring to?”

Once more, Rick was sorely tempted not to trust her. She could very well be faking ignorance to draw information from him. Then again, she was the only person he could talk to at this very moment. He knew better than to lose time trying to wake Jonathan. The man could sleep like a log at the best of times and looked like death warmed over anyway.

“There was this big diamond from Ancient Egypt in the Museum of Antiquities, and Jonathan and your Tom got knocked on the head while it was stolen –”

“I take it that this Jonathan is your brother-in-law?”

Rick rolled his eyes. “Do you ever let people finish their sentences? Yes, he’s my wife’s brother.”

“I’m so sorry, Mr O’Connell,” came Mrs Ferguson’s sheepish voice. “I’m not usually so rude, I swear, but I do tend to be rather short when I’m afraid.” A pause. “And I must confess I’m somewhat afraid right now.”

All right. So maybe she was being sincere after all.

“I used to know a Jonathan, you know,” she continued, and if Rick’s ears weren’t deceiving him yet, she was smiling slightly. “When I was in university. Tom and him were rather close friends at the time, and we used to meet in an Oxford pub for chats and drinks… I have very fond memories of those times. What’s your brother-in-law’s surname?”

“Carnahan.” He heard a tired, but happy little laugh. “Is he the Jonathan you were talking about?”

“Yes, the very same. How is he now?”

“Well, he’s…” Rick glanced behind him. “He’s asleep.”

There was silence on the other side of the wall, followed by a slight shuffle as Mrs Ferguson came closer to the air vent. “Jonathan Carnahan is here? In the same room as you?”

“Yep.”

“And he’s… asleep?”

“That’s right.”

For a few seconds Mrs Ferguson was silent, then she asked, sounding utterly confused, “Would you be so kind as to tell me exactly what happened to land the both of you in here?”

Rick pondered answering her for a little while. He looked into the space in front of him, then at the sleeping form of his brother-in-law, then at the air vent. Finally, he scratched the back of his neck and edged closer to the vent. “Okay. I’ll try to make it short, but I have a feeling it’s gonna take a while. Just warn me when you start to fall asleep.”

.⅋.

“Alex, dear, are you sure you’re not sleepy?”

“No, Mum, I’m not. Please, stop asking me that.” Alex shook his head conspicuously for effect, and his mother squeezed his hand briefly, not slowing down her pace.

It was not entirely true. Alex was aware that he was blinking a little too much than he should, and he was forced to admit that his head felt a bit heavy. But there was no way he’d admit this to his mum. Even at this hour in the evening, he had his pride. Besides, concern for his dad and uncle mingled with the beginning of excitement. He had not had a proper adventure in ages, and this sure looked like the start of a hell of one.

Although Cairo by night was certainly quite some adventure by itself. It was different, much creepier than in the dazzle of the day. Everything appeared to be a threat: the drop in temperatures, the small white houses all turned a similar dark grey, the pavements only lit by the little pools of bleak yellow light falling down from the street lamps, the lengthened shadows stretching over the walls and the streets… And you had to be extra careful to avoid the heaps of camel droppings when they were a little too close to the pavements.

Alex O’Connell had found himself looking into the newly-acquired eyes of the mummy Imhotep. He had faced a fierce red-clad warrior who would have taken sheer delight in strangling him. He had resurrected his mother at the Pyramid of Ahm Shere. Without exaggerating too much, he could consider himself a fairly brave boy of ten.

Yet he was perfectly content to cling at his mum’s hand and not let go as the both of them trotted along the darkened, colder streets.

“Don’t worry, Alex.” His mum’s voice made him look from the dark in front of him up to her face. “There’s nothing to fear.”

How could she possibly…? Alex shrugged and shook his head. Maybe this thing about mums knowing everything was true, after all.

“What are we gonna do exactly, Mum?” he asked, keeping his voice as low as possible. “Are we just going over to Dr Hakim’s and throw pebbles at his windows till he opens the door?”

She slowed down and looked at him, the expression on her face difficult to tell for sure in the dark. “Now where did you get this idea from?”

Alex hoped that his innocent smile was as efficiently lit by dim street lamps as it was in the light of day. Over the years, he had observed both his dad and uncle getting away with a lot with his mum on charm alone. As the two of them were quite different, Alex would only have to pick which tactic would be best for the occasion. Now, at the ripe age of ten years and one month, he had fairly well mastered a get-away smile of his own, something which he was rather proud of. And the best thing was that it worked with all three members of his family, most of the time.

It was his mother’s turn to shake her head, and Alex knew he had won this one when he saw a smile on her face. No matter what happened, his mum always smiled in the end, and this was one of the things that he loved most about her. Not all the other mums were like that.

“Bah. I don’t want to know.”

They had left the outskirts for Downtown Cairo, and were now walking along better-lit streets of smoother pavements. The light made the tall buildings appear taller, and you could actually see fifty feet ahead of you. It didn’t feel very different from London. Clearly the neighbourhood was wealthier and better-kept than the ones they’d seen so far, even if it still felt spooky and very eerie to be there by night.

As they walked past houses, Evelyn counted the numbers on the façades, finally stopping in front of a rather elegant-looking two-story house and heading decidedly to the door.

“I hope he’s not gone to bed already, or he won’t be in a good mood, I’m afraid,” Alex heard her mutter, before she rapped at the door. “Dr Hakim? It’s me, Evelyn O’Connell. I apologise for coming over so late, but the matter is important. Would you please let me in?” Nobody answered, and Evelyn came closer to the closed door, looking hesitant. “Dr Hakim? Are you awake at all? I swear this is serious –”

The door opened on her last word, and both she and Alex opened their mouths in surprise.

“The matter must be important indeed, to make you come here at this hour of the night, and with young Alexander, no less,” came the deep, gently lilting voice of Ardeth Bay.

“It’s good to see you, Ardeth,” eventually said Evelyn after she recovered from her surprise. The Medjai leader’s smile mirrored her own.

“It is always good to see you too, no matter the circumstances. Please come in.”

Evelyn did so, followed by Alex who, even if he wasn’t going to admit it, was rather happy to leave the dark streets.

They walked up a flight of narrow stairs to find themselves on the threshold of an old-fashioned door, which Ardeth opened for them before slipping quietly behind them. The first thing Alex did was, as his dad had taught him, to scan the room for ways out and possible dangers. Most of the time, when they were on a dig, Mum and Dad left Alex in the entrance room of a pyramid, where he did not risk heat-stroke. However, upon crossing a threshold, Rick never failed to check out a room before setting a foot in it, something Alex had taken on quickly after seeing what could happen if one was not careful enough in a pyramid.

The room was flooded with warm amber light, quite unlike the cold street lamps, and looked quite cosy with the thick carpet on the floor, the deep armchairs around a low table, and the exposed beams along the ceiling. Sure enough – this was the Cairo Museum curator’s house, after all – an imposing library full of old-looking books covered an entire wall, and further in the room stood a big desk covered in maps, stationary, and an impressive collection of pen holders.

But the comparison with any ordinary house stopped here. There was Ancient Egyptian stuff all over the room, going from framed pieces of parchments hung on the walls, to canopic jars neatly arranged on a chest of drawers, through various-sized statuettes on the bookshelves, and chests around the coffee table like footstools. There was even a small sarcophagus against one wall. Looking at it, and at the various items filling the room, Alex wondered how it was possible that none of these remains had caused any catastrophe at the time of their removal. Like waking up an evil mummy, for example.

Dr Hakim rose from his armchair to greet Evelyn and Alex as Ardeth closed the door behind him. “Good evening, Dr O’Connell, please do take a seat. You are welcome to do so as well, young Master O’Connell.”

“Thanks,” said Alex with a quick, rather uncertain glance at the severe-looking man. He watched as Ardeth sat in the armchair beside him with a slight rustle of black robes. The man caught his gaze, and a small smile pulled at one corner of his lips. Alex slightly relaxed into his armchair. He couldn’t tell why, but this smile somehow always managed to make him feel better, no matter the occasion.

“I’m truly sorry to disturb you at this hour in the evening, Doctor,” his mum was saying to Hakim. “But my husband and my brother have disappeared, and I think it might be linked to the theft of the Diamond of Ahm Shere.”

Alex’s eyes were back on Hakim as he leaned back in his armchair and nodded. “Ah… yes. We are already aware of Messrs O’Connell’ and Carnahan’s disappearance.”

Evelyn’s eyes widened. “What do you mean, ‘aware’? What happened? Where are they?”

“Evelyn, please,” said Ardeth, and he didn’t so much as flinch as Alex’s mum turned one of her fiercest gazes on him. Alex’s respect for the Medjai leader increased. Even Dad would sometimes be wary of that Look. “Almost everything we know has been gathered this afternoon by word of mouth. We haven’t had time to do anything else yet.”

“When exactly were you planning to tell me?” Evelyn’s voice was edging dangerously close to anger. Alex had more mixed feelings. For the moment, the most prominent was curiosity. He was dying to hear what the two men had to say.

“Just before you knocked on the door, we were discussing the hour in the morning when we could go to your house without waking you up and tell you everything.”

“You could even turn up at midnight, or five, I wouldn’t have minded,” said Evelyn, not much calmer. “Now what do you know, exactly?”

They told her and Alex pretty much the same story Satiah had, up until the point where Rick, Jonathan and Mr Ferguson had driven off in someone else’s. Alex smirked at that. Despite everything his mum said about how a respectable citizen should be law-abiding and honest, his uncle’s little skills had come in handy more often than she cared to admit. Not to mention that she often conveniently forgot that, whenever she entered a tomb, it was because she had broken into it in the first place.

“But if they did escape, why haven’t they returned yet? What happened to them?” The question his mother had just asked had been running in Alex’s mind for a while, and he had a hunch that it had been the same for his mum.

Hakim frowned a little at that, looking grim. “Well, according to eyewitnesses, they drove all the way to Dr Wittgenstein’s excavation camp near Giza, and the car stopped in the middle of the tents.”

“Why would they stop?” Mum’s voice was suddenly much lower.

“The men pursuing them – we do not know who they were, but it appears that they looked quite the professionals – were shooting at them. One must have hit a target.”

Alex’s insides turned abruptly into ice, and his mum’s face went pale. “Oh, my God… You mean…?”

“Nobody was hurt, it seems,” added Ardeth quickly. “But when I went there to investigate a few hours ago, I found that the car had fallen from a height of six or seven feet, and one of the tyres had been perforated by a bullet.”

Evelyn was silent for a minute, long enough for Alex to chime in. “And…” he asked, rather hesitant and uncertain all of a sudden as Hakim’s beady eyes fell on him. “What happened? After they stopped, I mean?”

He was almost afraid to hear the answer. And when Ardeth looked at him with something on his face that was hard to tell, he got not a little bit scared.

“Well,” said Ardeth, shifting his gaze from son to mother, “the man called Ferguson drew a gun and pointed it at Jonathan.”

Silence fell like a slab of solid lead. Alex was vaguely aware that he had his mouth open and was probably looking like an idiot, but he didn’t give a damn right now. Beside him, Mum had also her mouth slightly open, her eyes showing sad surprise. She blinked, then shook her head slowly. “Oh, dear… Something like this had to happen. I saw something like this coming, but…”

“What a jerk!” Alex burst, startling his mother. “Stinking turncoat! We saw him the other day at the bazaar, and he acted all friendly-like, the damn git –”

It was a mark of how shocked his mum had been that she only stopped him there with a sharp “Alex! Language!”

Alex cast her the most sheepish glance he could, still quite angry. The guy had been so nice and funny whenever he’d met him, and that had been all an act? Lousy traitor. Not for the first time, Alex wished he would grow faster. That way he’d be able to punch the wind out of that goddamn two-faced scumbag who had betrayed his uncle and kidnapped his dad.

“I hope Dad punches his head off,” he muttered, and his mother threw a warning glance at him, but nothing else. When he slipped a glance to Ardeth, though, he thought he saw something like amusement flash briefly on his face.

“So Tom Ferguson was working with those men…” Evelyn had recovered from her surprise and was now back to musing out loud, as she often did when she thought about something. “They must have been well organised to set up such a stunt. Who were they? What did they look like?”

“They were described as a handful of Englishmen, dressed in black and wearing felt hats,” answered Ardeth. “About six of them, looking as if they were quite trained for this sort of thing.”

That reminded Alex of some bad guys in some gangster films he’d seen, the ones with the big guns, big scars and smooth, shiny cars. Of course, his mum was never too keen on him seeing those sorts of movies, insisting that it was surely too scary for him. He hadn’t told her yet that some stuff that had happened to him in real life was much, much scarier than everything he had seen on a screen so far.

A silence followed Ardeth’s words, then Evelyn shook her head, frowning. “This doesn’t make any sense. Who would kidnap Rick and Jonathan? Why them?”

“You told us earlier that you thought this had some kind of link with the Diamond of Ahm Shere,” Dr Hakim said, his eyes keener than ever. “This happens to be our opinion as well. What could motivate such an action, unless it be the need for information?”

“Hang on,” interrupted Alex, who had a hard time keeping up with Hakim’s elaborate phrasing. “That means that whoever’s taken Dad and Uncle Jon wanted some information about the diamond, doesn’t it? But if they have the diamond now, what’s the use?”

“This is what we were wondering as well,” said Ardeth with a slight smile of his own, and Alex felt a mix of pride and annoyance that this was not getting them very far.

And then, at this point, Mum’s eyes began to shine with the funny glint that meant things were about to get interesting. “Tell me, Ardeth… Just how far does the link between the Diamond and the Oasis of Ahm Shere go?”

Ardeth and Hakim shared an equally appreciative glance; then the Medjai leader looked at Evelyn, his warm black eyes smiling at her. “So you remember, after all. I might have known.” His eyes took on an intense look, as they did whenever he was telling a story of the ancient times. “The link between the two is powerful. Without the Diamond the Oasis cannot exist. And of course, without the Oasis, the Diamond is pointless, just an ordinary gem.”

“Don’t you need the Bracelet of Anubis to find the Oasis?” Alex piped in, feeling that as long as the Pyramid and especially the Bracelet was being discussed he could have a word in. After all, he was the one who’d got almost killed by it last time. Besides, his mum didn’t seem to mind very much.

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” explained Ardeth, apparently ignoring Dr Hakim’s annoyed frown at Alex. “The Bracelet was indeed a guide, a precious one, and as such it was protected fiercely by each succeeding Pharaoh’s best guards.” There he glanced quickly at Evelyn, and Alex remembered what his mum had told him about her past life as Nefertiri, Pharaoh Seti’s daughter. An actual princess from Ancient Egypt, a fighter trained to protect precious artefacts. Alex still had trouble wrapping his head around that. It seemed impossibly cool. “But the Diamond and the Oasis are very intricately linked. For millennia people have believed that the Oasis hid an entire pyramid made of gold, and when the knowledge about the resting place of the Army of Anubis faded from memories, it was what lured many men into seeking the Oasis. You may remember that quite a number of men found their way there, and we saw what became of them.”

While Ardeth talked, Alex picked up a thick paper clip from Hakim’s desk nearby to keep his hands busy as he listened. He always loved exciting stories. That – coupled with his parents’ passion, of course – had been what drew him to Egyptian history.

“Some of these men must have come near enough to see the Diamond gleaming at the top of the pyramid in the distance, but not dared to come closer, thus spreading the word that the whole pyramid was made of gold, inside and out.

“As time passed, history became legend, and the Oasis disappeared from popular memory. However, there were always men foolish or greedy enough to attempt the pursuit of the Oasis of Ahm Shere. Legends involving gold are often those that last longest.

“But nobody ever unveiled the secret of Ahm Shere… until the last Year of the Scorpion, when the Bracelet of Anubis was uncovered by you, Evelyn, and your family. We all know what ensued.”

Alex listened raptly, still fiddling with the paper clip. At Ardeth’s last words, he straightened in his chair and blurted out, “When I was with Imhotep down in that oasis, he told Hafez something about the Bracelet being some sort of key to the Scorpion King… What did he mean by that?”

“Young man, did nobody teach you to listen to your elders and keep quiet whilst they speak?” said Hakim severely. Alex just stared back at him, undeterred. Of course the rules of proper conduct demanded silence from kids. But he had never been one to keep silent when he had a question.

Besides, from the look on his mum’s face, it seemed that she had Thoughts on the matter.

“Dr Hakim,” she said, her voice quite polite and cool – a little too much so, “I have the greatest respect for you and your work, but Alex is my son, and I believe I should be the one to decide whether to tell him off or not if he misbehaves. And I do not think that asking questions that are relevant to this conversation can be considered as misbehaving.”

Wham. Way to go, Mum. Alex refrained from beaming at his mum – perhaps that would have been a little too much. She did not often defend him this fiercely; when she did, it was always very effective.

There was a rather awkward pause, as Hakim stared at Evelyn, his black eyebrows raised in surprise; and as a grinning Alex turned his eyes to Ardeth Bay, he saw that the Medjai, by his own distinctive standards, seemed to be trying hard to force down a smile.

“So,” Alex asked, as if nothing had happened, “what did Imhotep mean?”

“Exactly what he said. Not only was the Bracelet a guide, showing its bearer the way to Ahm Shere by means of visions and clues, it was also the key to revive the Scorpion King.”

“Can the pyramid – and the oasis – exist after the death of the Scorpion King, then?” asked Evelyn, her eyes shining with curiosity again.

“The Scorpion King and his army have been kept five thousand years while the Oasis and the pyramid were never hidden from human eyes,” said Ardeth. “Despite what happened after Rick O’Connell killed the Scorpion King, it is my opinion that the Pyramid is still there as we speak, buried under the sands, dead as a house abandoned by its only master for millennia.”

A heavy silence followed these words. Evelyn had noticed Alex fingering the large paper clip and motioned discreetly at him to put it back where he had picked it up. Alex absently put it in his pocket instead. Nobody would miss one when there were dozens just like it on the desk, and it could always come in handy sometime.

“It doesn’t tell us,” Evelyn said after a little while, frowning, “what the men who have taken my husband and my brother have in mind.”

“No, it does not,” Hakim agreed in his low-pitched, gently accented voice. “Whatever their purpose may be, if they manage to find a way inside the Pyramid, they will find nothing but dead stones – just an empty shell.”

Silence filled the room once more, while Alex’s mind was filled with fresh questions. The one he turned and turned again in his head was what the hell those guys, whoever they may be, had taken Dad and Uncle Jon for. The one he wanted to dwell upon was what these same guys would do if Hakim’s words proved true. No, he definitely didn’t want to think about that.

The two Medjai started to elaborate theories which would explain the weird men’s hidden purpose, while Evelyn kept silent, her face still sombre. Alex looked past Hakim at the window in front of him. The curtains were open, and he could see a patch of ink-black sky, where he looked in vain for stars. Clouds must be darkening the sky and making it impossible to see anything.

It wasn’t lost on Alex that this reflected their current predicament perfectly.

.⅋.

The ground was shaking. Not just shaking, but rattling and rolling too. Rick was aware of regularly bumping against something that felt like a wall, and that made his whole left side hurt from shoulder to hip. Now that was something new. He sure could recall times when he had gone through far worse and not been really bothered by bruises afterwards. Mmh. Guess I’m getting a little old for this shit.

“Um. Are you awake?” came a tentative voice he quickly identified as Jonathan’s.

“More or less,” Rick muttered, rolling onto his right side and trying to get a bit steadier on the ground. Then he noticed the rising heat that he had blissfully been unaware of in his sleep. “What’s the time?”

“Come on now, Rick,” came Jonathan’s voice again behind him, sounding kind of relieved, “that’s hardly the proper question one would usually ask in circumstances like these.”

Yeah, sure. Damn this elaborate phrasing first thing in the morning. But Rick had a hunch that wherever all this crazy stuff was heading to, it was not going to be quite ‘usual’. Hell, he was almost glad to hear the slight touch of sarcasm in his brother-in-law’s voice. How could things get more unusual after that?

“So what would be the proper question, then?” he drawled, opening his eyes to assess their surroundings.

“Why, I might be wrong, of course, but I do think that ‘Where are we?’ would be more accurate.”

Rick sat up and looked at Jonathan. “Well you are wrong. It’s pretty obvious where we are. We’re in some kinda truck, and it’s driving off to God knows where. Oh, and it’s a pretty bad road. But I’m sure you knew that already,” he added with a smirk.

A particularly nasty jolt of the truck followed, as if to back his words. There was a pause, and Rick almost snorted at his brother-in-law’s miffed expression, almost a pout. This was one of those rare times he could observe genuinely close similarities between Evy and Jonathan. Sister and brother were such polar opposites that it was almost easy to forget that the two were siblings at all.

“To answer your first question, old boy,” Jonathan said after a while, a little stiffly, “it’s about half past eight in the morning.”

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“I’ve just woken up myself a few minutes ago. And I didn’t want you to get cranky from lack of sleep. You did look like you needed it.”

“I’m never cranky.”

It was Jonathan’s turn to smirk. Rick ignored him and ran a hand in his hair to scratch the back of his head, careful of the lump from the day before. He had just remembered something.

“Hey, there was a woman on the other side of the wall, last night. Said she was Ferguson’s wife.”

Jonathan’s slightly slanted eyes went suddenly as round as saucers. “What, Lizzie? You mean Elizabeth Ferguson was here?!”

“Yep. So it’s true you two knew each other, huh?”

A slight smile somehow made its way on the Englishman’s bemused face. “Y—yes… We used to hang around together at university. With Tom. So,” he added a little too quickly, “what the hell was she doing down there?”

“Well, it seems that whatever Ferguson’s been messing with, it’s pretty serious. She said she’d been taken from her house someplace in England and brought here for guarantee. You know, blackmail. Sounds like she’s really scared for her husband, and that those guys have given her every reason to be.”

“They didn’t… hurt her or anything, did they?” said Jonathan, alarmed. Rick shook his head.

“No, they didn’t. I mean, she thinks they drugged her, because she only started to hear us last night, but otherwise she sounded fine to me.”

Jonathan nodded. “Good.” Then he rested his chin on his knees and fixed a point somewhere near Rick, frowning slightly. “That’s good.” Something flickered over his face, and the frown deepened. “So that was the ‘choice’ he was talking about, then.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“Nothing.”

After half a second of thinking, though, Rick knew what he meant. Ferguson did have a choice: betrayal or widowerhood. Tough one. With a very slight wince, Rick realised that if himself had been forced to deliver a former school buddy – or orphanage buddy, as it were – to odd guys to save his wife, he sure as hell would have done it without even thinking.

On the other hand, what Ferguson had done had really been dirty, even with the best excuses. He had manipulated and fooled nearly everybody, gained their relative trust, only to two purposes: getting his hands on the Diamond of Ahm Shere and bringing the two of them to his bosses.

Nearly everybody. Rick felt a surge of pride about his wife – Evy’s misgivings had been justified, and Ferguson had not managed to twist her around his little finger like that – mingled with annoyance. He was none too pleased with himself for not having seen that there was something shifty about that guy too eager to please.

Then something peculiar crossed his mind. “Lizzie? Gee, you guys must’ve been pretty close if you got so familiar with a girl. And I thought you Brits were supposed to be gentlemen.”

Jonathan’s right eyebrow shot up, his face set in marble. “I’ll have you know that there was never anything improper between us, O’Connell, if that’s what you were talking about. And Englishmen are not ‘supposed’ to be gentlemen. They are.”

Rick couldn’t help but grin impishly. “That’s what I meant, kind of. So there was definitely something, then.”

One single brown eyebrow crept up even higher as Jonathan cocked his head forward and said, his voice even, “Pray tell, what exactly makes you say that?”

Rick’s sly grin widened. Despite the bumps and holes in the road, this was getting funnier and funnier. “Because usually, when you speak of somebody ‘belonging to the fairer sex’, as Evy would put it, you brag endlessly for a while and then forget the girl in the following month. You still haven’t forgotten her after several years, so… well, no need to be Sherlock Holmes to see that it’s unusual with you.”

“How very astute,” deadpanned Jonathan, probably painfully aware that his ears were turning a delicate shade of pink.

It was hard enough for Rick to keep a straight face, but as he pictured Evy’s face had she been there to see her brother so embarrassed about a woman, he had to look down and pretend to take a great interest in his shoes to hide his laughter.

When he finally felt safe enough, Rick looked up again, to find a pair of dead serious blue eyes narrowed at him. “I completely fail to see the funny side of this.”

Whoa. One odd thing with Jonathan was that, the more embarrassed he was, the more stuck-up his phrasing would get. Rick eventually cracked and let out a loud guffaw, while his brother-in-law rolled his eyes.

“Oh, bugger off,” he muttered, the corners of his mouth finally pulled in a reluctant grin.

Rick was still in pretty high spirits when the truck slowed to a stop and the back doors were pulled open. Blinding white light rushed in, along with the dust and heat of the outside.

“Gentlemen, I will ask you to get down,” came a smug voice Rick knew only too well. Sure enough, when his sight adjusted to the change in brightness, Oddball Number One was standing in the open doors, his black suit a hole in a rectangle of light. As Jonathan got up behind him, looking uncertain, Rick stared at the newcomer, his eyes narrowed.

“You didn’t say the magic word,” he drawled.

Three gunmen seemed to appear out of thin air behind Number One, and aimed guns at the two of them. Number One smirked. “If you please.”

Rick shrugged and started to make his way down, followed by Jonathan who cast a swift glare in passing at Number One from narrowed blue eyes. The latter looked back at him just as coldly.

To Rick’s surprise, they seemed to be in a town – in Giza, more specifically, as he just had the time to realise before the goons who were holding him at gunpoint made him enter a house very close to where the truck had been parked. He didn’t know this part of the city very well, but he had been there a few times before and had a good memory.

They crossed a couple of rooms, which looked like any local house’s would, then the guys in black made them walk a small flight of stairs down to a sort of basement or cave, which looked a lot like the one they had left earlier.

“Again?!” Rick stared at the four men in disbelief. “You guys never heard of a little something called originality?” Number One stared at him, his eyes narrowed behind his small glasses, and his mouth set.

“And whatever were you expecting, Mr O’Connell?” he asked, his voice just as soft as his eyes were cold. “A stone dungeon? Or a bullet in the back of your neck, perhaps?”

“Ah, I don’t mean to interrupt or anything,” said Jonathan behind Rick, his voice steadier than the American would have thought it to be in circumstances like those, “but if you bothered to keep us alive so far, I reckon it’s not for art’s sake, now, is it?”

Good point. Except that if they keep sending us what they call coffee, we’ll drop dead before we know it.

“Although you seem to have a peculiar conception of art, Mr Carnahan, there is something in what you’re saying,” Number One said, sounding remarkably like a hungry toad that had a fly in sight. “But it’s not for you to know. Now, if you would step in, please.”

No matter how childish it surely was, Rick sorely wanted to stomp on the guy’s feet as he walked in the room – but he restrained himself, thinking instead of the moment when he would get his hands on a gun and have a little fun with him. Or even just punch his teeth in. Oh yeah. No matter how long it would take, this guy would get what was coming to him.

This shiny, warming thought in mind, Rick turned back toward Jonathan and Number One, who was about to close the door with a falsely polite bow of his head.

“Gentlemen, till our next meeting.”

Rick gnashed his teeth. Sarcasm and kidnapping aside, there was something animal-like in him that hated the guy. Something visceral. Like a physical thing.

And then something rather unexpected happened. Or not that unexpected, all things considered.

Jonathan walked a step or two back toward Number One.

“I say, er, What’s-your-name?” he piped up. Rick could see the quiet sort of smirk that was right at home on his brother-in-law’s face, though it looked a little bit subdued right now. “Think you’ve dropped this.”

And he threw a worn leather wallet at Number One, whose expression turned rather dirty as he caught it in mid-air.

Rick grinned widely.

The situation hadn’t changed one iota, the two of them were still as weaponless as they had been twelve hours ago, and he still didn’t fully know why they had been brought there in the first place…

But the look on the guy’s face was hilarious.

.⅋.

Wish we could have seen more of Jon’s skills as a pickpocket in the 2nd film, because honestly, for a dilettante, the bloke is top notch. Stealing from a guy on fire? And later in the midst of being strangled? My hero :P

Also, it’s funny how a decade can change your outlook on things. When I started writing this story, my idea was (as stated in the 2nd chapter) that they were friends, flirted a lot, but it never went that much further. Now, though? Bit different. And I’m like “Okay, readers, what do YOU think happened? What are your headcanons and interpretations?” :3

#Fairy Tales and Hokum #fanfiction #my stuff #the mummy #the mummy films

[deadpeoplewalking]

I Need You

Hello everyone, I hope all is well. This is my very first fanfic writing. It is kinda long and I would really like your feed back on what you think if you read it. I appreciate your support. Love to all.

Summary: Daryl has just escaped from the Sanctuary and the reader (his wife) finally sees him for the first time. Daryl has a hard time readjusting to living after being tortured and the reader doesn't know what to do.

Warnings: fluff, angst

Word count: 2505

Well, shit had hit the fan and things weren’t looking good. Where do I even start… First, Carl thought it would be a great idea to hitch a ride to the Sanctuary to try and kill Negan all while his dad is on a supply run with Aaron. Second, Rick returns from his supply run and is confronted by Negan’s goons to, as Negan puts it “take half of our shit”. Third, Spencer takes the chance to talk to Negan and betray Rick. Fourth, things go haywire and Rosita tries to kill Negan, which I could have told you that plan was going to back fire, in result of her mistake Denise is killed and Negan guts Spencer like a deer. If there was one kill that did not upset me that Negan caused, it was him killing Spencer. Lord forgive me, but he needed to go. Negan continues to flaunt his ass around Alexandria, deciding he would take Eugene as prisoner so he could make bullets for him and his men. In light of all that happened that day, our group decided to head to Hilltop and formulate a plan in order to take Negan down and destroy his empire.

There was one good thing that came out of that day. Daryl escaped from the Sanctuary and fled to Hilltop. I couldn’t believe my eyes when the gates of Hilltop opened. My eyes landed on Maggie at first, but Daryl stepped out from behind her and I stopped dead in my tracks. I hate to admit this, but I had come to accept the thought of not seeing Daryl again. Not being able to touch him or see the smile that only I could put on his face, but there he was in the flesh and all I could do was stare. The rest of the group hugged him and were filled with joy when they saw him. The reunion between Rick and Daryl was enough to make anybody cry. Then it was my turn to reunite with what seemed like a ghost to me. The very first thing I did was reach out and caress his face. I had to feel him to make sure he was really standing right in front of me, to make sure he wasn’t a figment of my imagination. He was actually there, the love of my life, who had been taken away from me, was standing in front of me. As soon as I realized that what was happening wasn’t a dream, I wrapped my arms around him as fast as I could. I squeezed him tightly to make sure he wouldn’t disappear. I felt his arms around me, his head landed in the crook of my neck. I could feel the tears falling from his eyes onto my shoulder and I felt the tears fill and fall from my eyes as I kissed his temple over and over. I didn’t want to leave his embrace, but I needed to see his face. I took my hand and slowly brushed the hair out of his face seeing the pain that he endured while at the Sanctuary. He wrapped me in his arms once more and the only words I could say were “I love you Daryl Dixon”.

It had been a couple of weeks since Daryl and I were back living together in Alexandria. We shared a house opposite of Rick and Michonne’s house. The first week was the hardest for him. He was quiet and distance from me, but I understood why he was acting the way he was. Daryl had endured so much and his time at the Sanctuary had made him skittish. It was so bad that every time I touched him, he would pull away from me and then look at me with an apologetic look. It hurt me when he would avoid my touch or advert his eyes away from me when I would look his way or how he would avoid me every time I walked in the same room as him. I understood that it would take time for him to heal, but it hurt like hell to see him go through this alone because he wouldn’t let me in.

Time had passed and he has started to let me in a little bit each day. He actually started talking to me again and it made me happy to hear his voice again. There were days where he wouldn’t avoid me every time I was near him, but those were his good days. Today was a bad day though, he got up early and left the house. He didn’t know this, but I heard him leave every morning and heard him start his motorcycle. I never knew where he went when he rode off and I wish I did. I wish he would let me come with him just so I could be close to him, but I went along with my day just like I always did. I helped out around Alexandria a lot to get my mind off of what was happening between Daryl and I. Michonne had asked me to look after Judith today. Her and a few others were going out on a supply run and Rick was busy discussing plans to take down Negan with Maggie at Hilltop.

“Hey (Y/N), how are you doing today?” Michonne asked as she opened the door for me to come in the house.

“I’m doing okay, living one day at a time” I said while faking a smile. She looked at me and she could tell that I was lying. She hesitated to ask me what was really happening because she knew how I was when it came to some situations, especially when it came to the recent situation with Daryl.

“(Y/N) are you sure you are okay? I have noticed how different you have been here recently. I do not want to over step my boundary, but I want you to know that you can tell me anything and I will be here for you whenever” she knew me so well and she knew that I needed to get the things going on off my chest.

“I appreciate you always willing to talk to me. Daryl just hasn’t been the same since he came back from the Sanctuary and it is really starting to worry me. I understand he needs his space and I have given him so much time Michonne” tears started to form in my eyes. “He wouldn’t even look at me and every time I walked into the same room as him, he would stop what he was doing and leave. He gets up at 5am every morning, leaves the house, and rides his bike out of Alexandria and he doesn’t come back until the evening. The past week he has gotten better, but he still won’t let me touch him and I don’t understand. I just want to hug my husband, Michonne. That’s all I want right now is to be able to touch him” by this time I have tears flowing down my face.

“I know what you are going through is extremely hard and I know what he is going through is crippling him. He has been through hell and it is never easy for loved ones around them. They sacrifice just as much as the person who went through the ordeal does. It may take a while but try to talk to him more so he feels he can open up. Don’t talk to him about what happened, but just ask him how his day was or where he goes to on his bike. Tell him you want to spend more time with him. He will eventually open up to you and things will slowly go back to normal” she always gives the best advice and I was going to test it out.

Michonne and her group had just gotten back, along with my husband. While the group was gone, I had made spaghetti for Michonne and Carl and I had just got done feeding Judith her bottle. I had made some extra spaghetti for me and Daryl. I knew how much he loved spaghetti, so I thought it would make it easier for me to talk to him tonight.

Michonne took Judith off my hands and thanked me for making them supper. I walked across the street to my house with the extra spaghetti in my hands hoping this would help me talk to Daryl. I opened the door to find Daryl sitting on the couch cleaning his arrows. I looked at him and smiled, but all he did was glance in my direction and then turned his attention back to his arrows. I placed the spaghetti on the kitchen counter and got two plates and forks out. I scooped the spaghetti onto the plates and placed them on the kitchen table for us to eat. Daryl came over and sat in front of his plate and started shoveling the food in his mouth.

“I figured you’d want your favorite meal after a long day. Do you like it?” Geez I hope this works.

“Yeah, it’s good” it’s going to be a long night.

“How was your day? Did you find anything good out there?”

“I just found some crap. It wasn’t worth keeping.” Oh, this is going wonderfully.

“Oh okay, maybe I can come with you some time and maybe hunt. I mean if you want to, I understand if you don’t want to.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Well at least I didn’t get a complete no thank you.

After I had cleaned up the dishes I decided to go upstairs to get ready for bed, I desperately needed a shower to wash off the day. When I was done with my shower I put my PJs on and climbed into bed beside Daryl. ‘At least he still sleeps with me in bed’, I thought. I said good night and got a “you, too”. I fell asleep within a couple of minutes because of how exhausted I had been lately.

I woke up all of a sudden thinking something was wrong but looked around the room and then looked at the clock. It read 3am. ‘Geez, can I for once just sleep through the night’. I looked over to Daryl who was sleeping. He looked so peaceful laying there and all I could do was smile. I wanted so badly to kiss his forehead and wrap my arms around him, but I knew better than to do that because that would have startled him and more than likely ended badly for me. After many attempts of trying to go back to sleep I had given up. I got up from the bed and started to walk out of the room when I heard something.

“Please…Stay…” it was Daryl. At first, I thought he was just talking in his sleep, but then I realized he was awake when he sat himself up in bed and reached his arm out towards me. I walked over towards him and stood beside his side of the bed. He wrapped his arms around my waist.

“Please don’t leave me here alone. I need you beside me.” He was practically begging me. I kissed the top of his head and climbed into bed with him. This was the first time in a long time he allowed me to touch him. His body was flush against mine, like he was scared he was going to lose me. We laid there facing each other, his arms engulfing me and mine embracing him. Our legs were intertwined with each other’s and our foreheads resting against one another’s. I couldn’t stop smiling. I had not felt his skin on mine in such a long time, I almost forgot what this felt like. He was starting to drift off to sleep when I heard him say, “I’m so sorry (Y/N)”. I kissed his forehead and rubbed his back until he fell asleep. I drifted off to sleep right after him.

The next morning, I woke up with Daryl rubbing my back and placing kisses on my shoulder blades. I opened my eyes to see him smiling at me. I’m pretty sure he had been watching me sleep the whole time he had been awake.

“Have you been watching me sleep?’

“You looked peaceful, figured I’d let you sleep.” A smile spread across his face, that same smile I used to see before everything happened.

“That’s a little creepy don’t you think?” I asked him, smiling.

“Not when you’re just so beautiful.” I almost had to pinch myself to make sure that this wasn’t a dream. There was a second of silence and Daryl’s face changed.

“(Y/N) I am sorry for everything I did the last couple of weeks.” I started to speak, but he cut me off.

“I should have never treated you the way I did because I know that everything you did was to help me. I didn’t want you to see me like that. I was weak and I don’t wanna drag you into my problems. You did so much for me and all I did was hurt you and I don’t deserve to have a wife like you.” You were almost on the edge of crying. You had been so patient with him and now finally hearing him apologize made all your emotions come to the surface.

“Baby don’t ever say that you are weak or that you don’t deserve me, because you do. You are my husband and I am always going to be here for you. I know what you went through was a traumatic experience and I knew the best thing for you was to give you time and give you your space. I wish you would have let me in and let me help you, but I know how you are, and I know that the things you did were not to hurt me. Daryl you are the most important thing in my life, and I will never give up on you.” Not only was I crying at this point, he was too. Everything that he had bottled up for so long came pouring out. I turned to face him and raised my hand to wipe the tears from his eyes and he did the same for me. He leaned towards me and his lips were on mine. This wasn’t the normal kiss I was used to. This one was so tender and sweet like he wanted this kiss to last forever. Our lips separated slightly so we could both catch our breaths. I could feel him smile against my lips when he kissed me again. He made me so happy and I don’t think he has any idea how much happiness he gives me. Our kiss unfortunately came to an end and the first words that came out of his mouth were, “I love you (Y/N) Dixon. Always.”

“I love you Daryl Dixon. Forever.”

#daryl dixon #daryl x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon x reader #walking dead fanfiction #walking dead fandom #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfiction

[ramheavenandhell]

Rick and Morty Forever and One Hundred Years – Chapter 6: What a Surprise

AN: This chapter is dedicated to AwesomeMango7 because she suggested this idea :) Hope you like it ;) Also: @meaty_drapes on Twitter made precious fanart for this story. I'm still so excited, please take a look at it! Thank you so much again, I really love it *///* Warnings: Rick/Morty, Morty/Jessica, Tricia/Rick, Jealous!Rick and still slow burn

Rick and Morty Forever and One Hundred Years – Chapter 6: What a Surprise It seemed like good fortune was for once on Morty's side after the school dance because on the next school day, he happened to overhear some fantastic news. "So, Jessica. I heard you broke up with Brad again?" The brunet was standing at his locker again and listened in on the conversation that his crush had with her girlfriends. "Yeah, it's over and this time for good." Jessica confirmed that she was indeed single once more. Morty's heart sped up a little at the information. "So, what are you going to do now? Who are you going to date?" Another girl asked excitedly. "Actually, I thought I would go for a boy who's completely different from the guys I dated before. You know someone who I would have not even remotely considered before." The redhead began and Morty's hopes rose with every word, feeling like she was talking about him. "You know, just someone who's really kind and gentle and…" She stopped talking as Morty appeared before the girls, looking as awkward as last week when he had asked her if she wanted to go to the dance with him. The boy blushed, an embarrassed-looking smile on his face as he cleared his throat. It was now or never! The only chance he might ever get in his entire life!!

Morty dashed towards his classroom as if he was trying to aim for a new record. Luckily, he wasn't caught by one of the teachers, who would have scolded him for that. Completely out of breath, he came to a stop in front of his best friend, who again sat lazily on top of his desk instead in his chair. "Wow, Morty! Are you okay?" He asked as looked the panting brunet over. "Were you chased by Brad or one of the other guys that are always bullying you? I told you that you have to stand up to them and fight and not just run off like a coward. They'll never stop if you keep doing that." "No… It's nothing… like that…" Morty interrupted his best friend's lecture, still wheezing. After he finally caught his breath, he continued, his voice full of excitement. "You won't believe what just happened, Rick! Jessica broke up with Brad and I asked her on a date and she actually said yes!!" The yellow-shirted boy was so happy that he felt like he was standing on top of the world. Rick's eyes got almost impossibly wide at the news, disbelieve written all over his face before it was replaced by a not entirely genuine-looking smile, but Morty didn't notice that. "Congrats, Morty!" He congratulated his friend. "See, I knew you would get her one day. Ju-just took her a while to see what a great catch you are." "Yeah, but…" Morty's excitement dimmed for a moment. "…there's just one thing…" Rick was intrigued and lifted one side of his unibrow. "What is it?" "Jessica asked that we turn it into a double date together with her friend Tricia Lange…" "Well, okay. Nothing wrong with that." The blue-haired teen replied, not seeing the problem. "…and you." Morty finished slowly and flinched as if he expected the other to hit him now. "WHAT?!" All eyes in the classroom turned to Rick, so he quickly pulled the brunet out of the room. "You can't really ask me to go on a date with Tricia!" Of course, Morty knew that Rick would hate this suggestion. The spiky-haired teen had dated the ditzy brunette once in the past and it didn't last very long – technically like all of Rick's relationships. He also knew that Rick actually hated her. She might be pretty, but the genius student was bothered by her attitude. Morty honestly didn't understand why Rick had dated her in the first place if he had such a problem with her, but he's never dared to ask him about that. "I know, Rick, but could you please do it? Just this once? Just for one evening?" He begged his best friend. The other male was stoic. "No, Morty. You know, I told you that I stay away from Jessica so you can have her. And I even helped you out to get her. But this is where I draw the line." Of course, Morty knew that Rick had done so many things for him already. And he was so, so grateful for all his help and support in the past and would probably never be able to repay that. But, he really needed his help with this. Just one more time. "Please, Rick." He whimpered, looking like a kicked puppy at the other. "I already told them that it would be okay and I bring you along. Please. Just this once. I'll never ask anything of you ever again. I swear, Rick." Rick tried to keep a straight face, but it was hard to keep it up with how much Morty was begging him, practically ready to fall on his knees in front of him. He sighed and ruffled with one hand through his spikes, hating what he was going to say now. "…Fine." Hazel eyes brightened up. "Really? Oh thank you, Rick! Thank you, thank you, thank you so much!!" "You owe me one for this though. Big time." The blunet added and turned his face, trying to hide a blush behind a façade of annoyance. "Of course, Rick. Whatever you want. Thank you so much." The yellow-shirted teen's joy seemed unstoppable now. He happily skipped over to his seat as the school bell rang and Rick less enthusiastically made his way to his own seat. Just what had he gotten himself into? 'It's for Morty.' He told himself. He would probably do anything for the other boy. Even endure one evening together with that dumb bitch…

Both boys could be seen sitting in a fancy French restaurant, one of them looking clearly more hyped about the situation than the other. The duo was currently waiting for their dates since Morty had reserved a table for four. While the brunet had tried to put some effort into his outfit, putting on a yellow button-up shirt – the same one that he had worn when Rick had been invited for dinner – and a nice pair of black dress pants, his friend showed up in simple jeans and white shirt, his leather jacket hanging over the back of his chair. The contrast between them was almost comically. Likewise, their attitudes were the complete opposite. Rick almost looked bored out of his mind, leaning back in his seat, while Morty sat stiffly and fidgeted with his fingers, looking clearly nervous. That flustered behavior was kind of cute. However, the spiky-haired teen grew more and more annoyed with each passing minute. Morty had insisted that they should be early at the restaurant even when Rick had told him that girls are always late and they'd still have plenty of time to wait for them. So, they had been sitting here for almost half an hour, sipping on their water and red wine – because there was no way that Rick would get through this evening completely sober – and doing pretty much nothing else. It was probably odd that they had agreed to meet at the restaurant, but the brunet was glad that Jessica made this proposal because he lacked a ride to pick her up with. There also wasn't enough space on Rick's motorbike. Sure, he could have called a cab, but that on the other hand would have left Rick stuck with picking up Tricia and Morty knew that his friend would have been anything but happy with that. So, they were currently waiting for their dates – well, at least Morty was while Rick was just waiting for the night to be already over – and the brunet's nerves were frazzled. This was his one chance at actually having a date with his crush and he couldn't afford to screw this up… "Cut that out, Morty." Rick said, sounding more annoyed than he intended as he pulled the poor napkin out of the boy's sweaty hands since Morty had started fumbling around with it. "You don't have to be so nervous. It-it'll be fine." The blue-haired teen sighed and sank further back in his chair, grabbing his wine glass and taking another sip. Rick thought that he was probably the one that needed to calm down since he was starting to act like an asshole towards the brunet even though he didn't deserve that. "Aw geez. S-sorry, Rick." Morty mumbled and put his hands in his lap instead, rubbing his sweaty palms against his pants. "You're right. I'm just a little nervous because it's actually my first date." He laughed a little and it sounded as awkward as he felt right now. "You've must been on so many dates already that this is probably normal for you. Geez, I must look like a complete dork or something right now…" "You're not a dork, Morty. And it's okay to be nervous on a date." Rick reassured him. "Even I get still nervous on dates." Morty looked with wide eyes at him. "You do?" "Yeah, I've just learned to hide it better." Well, at the moment Rick was trying to hide his bad mood even though Morty should know very well what he was putting him through…no, actually the brunet could not possibly know that exactly he was putting him through. "Just don't worry so much, okay?" Morty nodded shakily and was so grateful that the other was actually here right now and he didn't had to go through this all on his own. Who knew how much of a mental wreck he'd be if Rick weren't at his side. There wasn't much time to think about it though, as finally the long awaited company arrived. "H-hi, Jessica!" The brunet immediately jumped up from his seat, greeting his crush nervously and like a gentleman, pulled out the chair for her. "Y-yo-you look great!!" "Thank you, Morty." The girl giggled, obviously flattered. She wore a light-blue dress, which fit together with her light-blue hairband and the colors accentuated her hair and eyes. Morty was unable to pay attention to anyone else but her anymore, so he didn't really notice Rick's reaction to meeting his date. The spiky-haired teen didn't even bother standing up from his chair as Tricia greeted him. "Hi, Rick." "Hi…" He muttered to not be a complete ass, but also making sure to let everyone present know that he wasn't happy with this. The brunette didn't seemed fazed by his mood and took a seat next to her friend. In comparison to the girl beside her, her outfit was very provocative, the red top showing enough cleavage that you'd be worried that her tits would jump out at any moment and her dark skirt was also short enough to not leave much to the imagination. However, it didn't attract Rick's attention, whose eyes had drifted over to his best friend. The teen looked like he wanted to make a sarcastic remark about Morty's love-struck face, but bit his tongue to keep it to himself. Moments later, the waiter arrived at the table, asking to take their orders. The entire group agreed on a bottle of red wine, safe for one. "A scotch for me." Rick ordered. The teen ignored his friend's stare as Morty looked at him incredulously. Did Rick seriously have to order something this strong? Well, Morty shouldn't really be surprised that the only way that Rick saw himself getting through this evening was by being drunk. However, that didn't mean that he approved of that. He just hated seeing his friend getting drunk so often. Rick really had a problem with alcohol… Trying not to let that dampen his mood, Morty focused his attention back on his date again. "S-so…um…" He cleared his throat, fighting hard to make light conversation. What are you even supposed to talk about on a date? The weather? Hobbies? "W-what are you i-in-into?" He stuttered. Rick suddenly snorted loudly beside him. "Way to go, Morty! Good start of a conversation to ask for her kinks first." The brunet blushed fiercely. "W-what are y-you saying, Rick! I-I-I didn't mean—I w-was just a-asking about J-Jessica's hobbies!" He realized that he probably formulated that sentence poorly, but the redhead surely understood how he had meant it. Utterly embarrassed, he looked over to his crush, hoping that she hadn't misunderstood him. Damnit! Why did Rick have to do something like that? Sure, blame it on the alcohol, but his friend was supposed to support him here and not act like a complete asshole. Tricia was the one who picked up the conversation. "Oh, I know a few things that you're into, Rick." The way she talked sounded like she was really just trying to make casual conversation and not like she was flirting with him, but from Rick's glare it might as well have been all the same. "Well, I know for sure who I am into and who I am not into!" Oh god! It was just getting worse! Panicking, Morty tried to steer the conversation to a safer topic again. "Uh…so…any TV shows that you're interested in right now, Jessica?" It was probably not the best, but something that the boy figured they could work with. "I-I've just started w-watching Steven Universe. It's pretty g-good." "Oh. Steven Universe was that cartoon show, right?" Jessica asked. Clearly, she had heard of it, but never watched it. That sucked. It would have been a good topic to talk about. "Guess she's too good to be watching cartoons…" Rick muttered not exactly quietly. "…probably more a fan of The Bachelor or some other stupid reality TV show…" "Rick!" The brunet hissed loudly. Just why was he in such a mood right now? Again, the brunette from the other side of the table had to add to the conversation. "Oh, did you guys watch last night's episode. I didn't expect him to give a rose to Veronica…" "Not surprised that you'd watch shit like that." Rick only commented lowly. Despair was written on Morty's face but he sighed in relieve as finally the food was served. Hopefully, the conversation would be limited to a minimum while they were all busy eating. "Another scotch, please." The blue-haired teen ordered before the waiter left. "Actually, make it double." "Rick, I think you-you already had enough to drink." Morty wearily eyed his friend's empty glass. "Thanks Morty, but I decide when I had enough. And I didn't have nearly enough tonight." The brunet looked angry, but when Rick was like that, arguing with him was pointless. In Morty's opinion, the other had had more than enough already, but apparently, nothing was stopping Rick right now. So, forced to give up, the boy turned to his food, only nervously glancing up at Jessica, who thankfully seemed to be still in a good mood. It was mostly silent while the four occupants at the table ate their food, the entire atmosphere kind of awkward or at least it felt like that for Morty. "Th-this…food is really…um…good." Again, he tried to go for some light conversation even though he feared that he might regret it – and he honestly had no idea what he had ordered or what the stuff on his plate even was supposed to be. "How's you-yours, Jessica?" "Oh, it's fine. Thanks." The redhead smiled lightly while digging with her fork around in her salad. Morty smiled encouragingly back. "Tha-that's good." "I'm actually surprised that you've ordered that, Morty." Rick threw in. "Didn't knew you would really eat calf's brain." Face morphing into a grimace, Morty felt his appetite gone from one moment to the other and slowly laid his cutlery down. He wiped his mouth with the napkin, hoping to play it off as being sated by the little that he had eaten already. "Man, I-I'm really full." His best friend broke out in loud laughter, drawing the attention of the other patrons on them. Morty's slightly paled faced was heating up and he tried to make himself as small as he possibly could. God, this was so embarrassing already and Rick didn't make the whole thing any better!! Shyly, he dared to glance over to Jessica to gauge her reaction. Her smile looked a bit strained as she looked over at Rick. However, when their eyes met, it was replace by a soft and far more sincere-looking one. Again, Morty smiled back, glad that he hadn't completed screwed it yet and also a little surprised that she hasn't left already, but was still willing to stay and put up with all of this. "Hmm…this food tastes kind of weird." Of course, Tricia had to comment on her own meal, too, after the blunet had stopped laughing. Morty looked over at how she picked at the meat on her plate and thought, 'At least it's not calf's brain.' Further conversation ceased since Rick didn't bother to comment on his own dish – or grace the brunette with a reply – and everyone continued to eat in silence until they eventually finished. Dessert was ordered shortly afterwards and the spiky-haired boy ordered more to drink, which earned him another disapproving glare from Morty that was blatantly ignored. …or maybe not. "Don't look at me like that, Morty. The guy who claims that he's full after eating three bites and then orders a fucking cake for dessert should really have no right to judge." Morty was gaping, the reply that those two things were completely different sitting on his tongue. However, he wasn't given a chance for an argument to break out. "Hey, Morty. Would you mind if we talked for a little moment? I mean, alone?" Jessica whispered loudly. Cold sweat broke out, but the brunet answered in his stuttering voice, "S-su-sure, Jessica!" and hastily got up from his seat. He followed the redhead away from the table to a slightly more secluded corner of the restaurant and feared for the worse. Would she tell him now that she hated this evening and would never want to go on a date with him ever again? Would she say that she didn't want Morty to talk to her ever again? Sure, she could have said those things to him at the table, too, but maybe she was just trying to be polite about it and didn't want to say it in front of the others. "Morty, this is a really nice restaurant and you're a really nice guy, but…" She smiled as if she tried to lessen the blow, but Morty knew that it was coming now. "…this double date was probably a bad idea. I'm really sorry that I've been asking you to bring Rick along, but Tricia really wanted this and I should have known that after their history, it wouldn't turn out well. So, sorry for making that mistake and kind of ruining this evening for us." Hold on! Jessica was apologizing?! Morty couldn't believe his ears. He blushed and rubbed the back of his head as he laughed his cute little Morty-laugh. "Ha ha! It's not your fault, Jessica. Don't worry about it. I probably should have said something first because I also knew that Rick wouldn't like this and act out…" Neither of the two noticed that they were being watched the whole time. Blue eyes peered right through the aquarium that stood between them and their table and Rick looked anything but pleased as he watch his friend blushing and the two laugh. "Say, Rick. Are you actually dating someone right now? I mean, I noticed that you broke up with Patricia last month, but I haven't seen you with anyone else. You're only hanging out with Morty all the time…" Tricia felt the need for conversation and began to pry. Rick ignored her babbling, having no intention to answer her, but when the duo returned, looking really happy and laughing together, he began to snap. "I've really had it with you! First off, it's none of your business who I'm dating right now. And secondly, I have zero interest in getting back together with you if that's what all of this about! And it clearly is!" To emphasize his point, he slammed the now empty scotch glass on the table, hard enough for it to crack. Morty's eyes widened in shock. If Rick was this drunk, he became dangerous. Less because he was turning violent, but rather because he turned completely unpredictable. His date also seemed to notice that the spiky-haired teen was getting too much out of hand now. "I think it might be better if we leave now, Tricia." The girl thankfully got the cue and both quickly grabbed their things. "It was a really nice evening, Morty…despite this." She looked pointedly at Rick, who sat slouched in his chair and could clearly give less fucks about the fact that the girls were going to leave now. "Maybe we can repeat this another time, but just with the two of us?" "Yeah. Yeah, that would be great, Jessica." Morty smiled at the offer and waved after her as the redhead and her friend left the restaurant. He told the waiter, who walked past him, that he wanted to pay before he sat down in his seat again. Everything was silent between the boys for a moment. While Morty should be elated that Jessica wasn't angry at him and was even willing to give him another chance, he was still upset that this evening had been ruined like this. "Trust me, it's better that they're gone." Rick broke the silence. The brunet didn't answer him. Around a minute later, the waiter showed up with the bill and Morty gulped nervously, not having expected it to be that expensive. While he fumbled with the bank notes in his wallet, Rick suddenly slammed a wad of cash on the table. "Don't swat it. I'll pay for everything. It's the least I can do." 'The least…?!' Morty didn't even know what to say anymore. His best friend had ruined this entire date instead of being supportive and backing him up and he thought, it would be all good again if he paid?! He was so angry right now. And even more he was hurt that Rick had betrayed him like this – because that's exactly what it was in Morty's eyes. They grabbed their things and also exited the establishment, the night air outside a little chilly. "C'mon, Morty. I-I'll drive you home." Rick offered, not even trying to hide that light slur in his speech. This was the last straw for the brunet and he whipped around, shouting angrily. "I will walk home, Rick! How can you even expect me to want to drive home with you when you're this drunk?! You-you-you're such an alcoholic asshole, who doesn't really care about anyone, but yourself! And your mom was right when she said that you're a good for nothing!!" The moment those last words left his mouth, he instantly regretted it. That was a low blow and he knew that he went too far with that. Rick's shocked gaze was more than enough proof right now. Still, he felt too angry to apologize for it and instead turned around to walk off. He didn't turn around again or added anything to it and Rick didn't try to stop him either. The spiky-haired teen only watched after his retreating friend, shock from the harsh words that had been thrown at him still written on his face. "FUCK!" As soon as Morty was out of hearing range, he yelled and kicked a trashcan hard enough to leave a noticeable dent in it. "Stupid Jessica!"

While Morty was on his long way home, his head slowly cooled down again and he began to reflect on the evening and his own reaction towards Rick. Thinking about it at all made him realized that this whole situation was no one's but his own fault. He shouldn't even be angry at Rick for being himself. This outcome should have been obvious to him right from the start. Even Jessica realized that it had been a stupid idea to force Rick on a date with Tricia. It was bound to blow up, so the only person he should actually be upset with right now is himself. Morty decided that he would apologize to Rick tomorrow at school.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

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