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imaginationmess · 3 years

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TAKE MY HAND (ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE) [BAKUGOU KATSUKI X READER]; TWO

Bakugou Katsuki X Reader

AGED UP AU!

Summary: When you take on the burden to keep the ones living safe, which causes you to become a traitor, but you had to pick a decision, and it cost their trust in you. You reverted to your old violent self. Months later, you find yourself face to face with your old friends. They want you to help them because they know you can handle yourself in this current state of the world. They are still ignorant of the state the world is. They have no idea how more dangerous it has become.

“We are still fucking fighting and won’t stop fighting. If you fucking give up, we lose!”

BEFORE READING! PLEASE READ DISCLAIMER!

Previously Chapter ONE; Masterlist

Chapter TWO

Word Count: 1,600+

Spoiler Alert for Anime watchers: There will be mention of Midoirya’s new quirks that haven’t been introduced in the anime.

Once the four of them have taken a shower and had time to discuss with each other weighing the pros and cons of trusting you. You did have a good record of keeping up with your promises before the incident where you betrayed all of their trust. It’s a tie between trusting you or not trusting you over a deal.

They are gonna reconsider the vote about it, later at night. They are all curious how you became a Mafia boss from just an original teenager who wanted to become a hero. To only become a cold killer and making a name for yourself years later.

They only have heard stories and rumors of the alias you go by.

Glitch.

A masked individual who is widely known for their cold,calculated mind and a heartless killer who didn’t care who gets caught in the crossfire. A leader who rapidly climbing up the ladder in the mafia world during the time of the apocalypse. A leader who became to hold more territory and killing off of other leaders to take their territory and expand their army.

A name alone made your enemies tremble in their boots.

They are hoping to get better judgment, seeing how things are run here.

The young boy that goes by the alias Speedy gave them a quick tour, but didn’t show the whole building due to being confidential from outsiders. He is just following orders. He was taking them to the cafeteria to grab something to eat to only notice where the children were eating all together were pointing at them. Most of them have eyes of admiration and pure awe looking at them.

“They are fans of you guys. They have seen the old video recording of previous sports festivals. We had to keep them somewhat entertained. Glitch got her hands on those old videos.” Speedy explains to continue to eat his soup.

The boys nod, understanding why the kids are so excited to see them in the flesh. It was weird, but somewhat comforting that the younger generation isn’t taught to hate heroes.

“I would keep those degrading comments of Miss Glitch to yourselves because the people who live here aren’t fans of heroes, much less of outsides. I heard you guys arguing earlier outside the room. You weren’t very quiet.” He looks at Bakugou in a way saying you are the loud one, before adding, “Everyone here would not agree on whatever image you decide to picture her.”

“Why wouldn’t they agree? Isn’t she a killer though?” Todoroki is just addressing the tension in the air. Midoriya and Kirishima choked on their food before coughing. They forgot Todoroki still struggles to read the social situations.

“Yes, she has killed many, but it is done to keep everyone safe. At the state of the world, it isn’t run by heroes who never got their hands dirty. It is run by killers because prison doesn’t exist. Who is gonna be the one to put those low lives underneath the ground? You guys never faced the true danger of the current state of the world. You are always protected just because you attend a prestigious school before the apocalypse hit.” Speedy spits out before taking a deep breath and just continues eating his food. His left hand was

“I apologized for his comment. We just have a history of them. It didn’t end on a good note. I know yo-.”

Speedy interrupts Midoriya by slams his spoon on the table before taking a deep breath to recollect himself.

“You don’t know any of our experiences. It was hell before Miss Glitch came to save us and took us in with no judgment. She taught us how to freaking survive by teaching us numerous tools such as self-defense and weapon handling. She never expected anything in return, unlike other mafia groups.”

The sound of a clap pauses the tension being created by five of them. The ex heroes in training look up to see meet the emotionless man covered with tattoos and scars. The same man who was within the room left to the minor from earlier. He placed a hand on top of Speedy head to ruffle his hair.

“Go ahead, eat with your sibling. Take a breather. I will take over making sure these little shits behave.” He removes his hand from his head before taking a seat beside the teenager.

“But-” Speedy was hesitant on leaving his position.

“It’s an order. Spend time with your sibling. Enjoy the night off.” The older man takes out a red apple from his pocket. Speedy stares at the four outside and gives a quick nod before taking his leave.

Bakugou Katsuki was staring at the man with suspicion as if he saw him before this mission. He wasn’t the only one who was thought so. Midoriya recalls those same tattoos, but it must have been a long time ago. He couldn’t easily recall. They were eating quietly until they finished.

“Let’s start ny introducing myself. I am Daichi. I am usually the one who runs this base when Miss Glitch isn’t present. It must have been your lucky day because you would have been tortured to death for trespassing.” The hairs behind their neck rise and getting goosebumps.

They sense malicious by the way he is sounding. Midoriya’s danger senses were activating and going crazy causing him to want to step away from him. It takes him back to when All For One and Stain’s presence.

Daichi’s yellow eyes stare at every one of them as he takes out a pocket knife directs it at Midoriya who was sitting in front of him. “The only reason you four are alive and even getting treated with special treatment is because of Miss Glitch. Step out of line, I wouldn’t hesitate to beat the shit of you wannabe heroes. That’s the only thing. I am allowed to do.” He swiftly put his pocket knife after cutting his apple into six pieces which fall on the napkin. He claps his hands together cutting through the tension for him to drop the act to replace it with a fake smile.

“Anyways comes to my question. What did you talk about with the young boy making them lose their composure?”

He was oblivious enjoying tormenting these wannabe heroes.

_______________________________________

Meanwhile, inside the hero’s refuge base where there is a tall metal barrier that runs underneath 20 feet underground.

There was a young man with black hair with his signature scarf, looking at a map looking where to travel to get more food and other resources. They are running out of places to investigate. The last 2 locations were a complete bust. It has been cleaned out completely. He is one of the leaders of the camp where they have stayed safe since the beginning of the apocalypse.

There was a knock on the wall, before someone coming in through the curtains. They pull a chair across from him, before taking a seat. They are twirling it around for them to rest their arms on the top of the chair.

“Aizawa, I can’t believe you took my suggestion seriously.” The young male with the purple bed hair as if he just rolled out of bed, comments. He has a small scar above his eyebrow. He has a few scars on his arms that have grown muscular.

“It was insane, but not outside of the possibilities.” Aizawa laid back in his chair and stares at his former student who is now somewhat a version copy of himself when it comes to fighting styles.

“Do you tell the trio? Whom they are gonna be meeting?” The purple-haired questions, not seeing they would be willing to see a former classmate that so-called became a traitor in their eyes.

“No. They wouldn’t be willing to do it despite us being a tight spot right now when it comes to resources.” Aizawa answers, before ruffling his hair and keeping his eyes closed. He is stressed out and not having a lot of options. They are running low on adults that were pro heroes. They have lost many throughout the apocalypse. Many of them abandon their original mission to save themselves.

The apocalypse revealed the true heroes who aren’t for the money. They are a good amount of pro heroes who got captured by mafia groups to have power. Some of them show over time randomly at their doorstep after being spared by the mask individual Glitch. That’s the only information they are allowed to share about their interaction with Glitch.

Aizawa and the other leaders of the camp believe the individual took them close enough for them to walk to their camp. Aizawa suspects it is one of his former students whom he didn’t have any contract ever since the infamous incident. Majorly of his students calls them to be traitors.

“I still don’t get why we never told the truth about what actually happened that day.” The purple-haired male looks to the side to see Eri outside away from any harm playing with Kota.

“Hitoshi, It was a quick agreement exchange of keeping our mouths close and follow whatever story they want to make up. She swore to keep her word on securing your guys safe within her presence.” Aizawa applies pressure on his forehead to relieve the headache.

Aizawa remembering back to the U.A dorms where you are smiling and being a normal teenager. The image of that student whom he watched over for months became dark. She was no longer a child, but an emotionless shell of what she should be.

The lifeless eyes staring back at him, covered in bruises and blood that wasn’t her own. She was carrying unconscious Eri. You were bathed by your enemy’s blood. The remaining light of innocence in your eyes had vanished from existence. It only reveals just cold, calculated eyes that were staring at his soul.

“Aizawa.”

💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣

I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter!

Any thoughts/Feelings/Predictions that you have while out reading this chapter.

I would love to hear them! <3

If you wish to be tagged, do comment down below.

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unholyhelbig · 3 years

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Bechloe Apocalypse AU? I know it's been done before, but damn, do I love a good trope.

[A/N: This prompt has been in my inbox for a long time and I’m just now getting to it. But the main idea is from @auideas]

Read on AO3 | Request Prompts here

Beca was always the first to stir in the morning. It wasn’t by the light that streamed through the blinds, but her own biological clock that did it. A seven am on the dot, she would wake and stretch and feel her fingers met with the cold of the house. The blinds were drawn and a little slit of yellow, or sometimes gray depending on the weather, mapped itself on the wooden floor.

They hadn’t done much to the old Victorian manor at the edge of town. It came furnished and the only thing they bothered changing was the sheets on the four-post bed and the towels in the closet. They smelled so thickly of must that Beca made the begrudging trip into town for supplies.

Beca would pad down to the kitchen on the creaky wooden stairs and flicked on the coffee maker. She reveled in the darkness, in the cool relief from the South Carolina air. They kept the central unit on high and thick curtains over nearly every pane of glass in the house.

Chloe would stir an hour after her wife.

Maybe it was the absence of heat or her own lungs filling with dark roast. She followed the scent and grasped at the paper set on the kitchen table. She would skip to the sports section first but would always return to the front page for whatever story they deemed import enough.

“Ah, a firefighter with a cat.” She creased the paper “Charming and quaint.”

Beca grunted as she stood on her toes to grasp two mugs. They also came with the house, covered in dust until she scrubbed them. A cartoonish illustration of teddy bears dawned the front and she couldn’t bring herself to read the cheesy sayings past their first week in the Victorian.

She didn’t’ want to get to know the people in town. It was small enough that she got questioning stares from the gas station clerk whenever they ran out of allergy medication or on the rare occasion, milk. He bit his tongue but studied her face. Doveport South Carolina. Not even on the map.

Chloe figured that this is where people went to disappear. Not when they had fresh blood on their palms and dirt under their nails, but when the dust had settled, and they needed a place to ride out the storm. People lived on boats and deep in the swampy woods. They bought foreclosed homes with cash. They barely went outside, and hell- the air was too stiff.

“Did he pull it from a tree?” Beca asked.

“A storm drain, actually,” Chloe said.

The shorter of the two set down a steaming cup in front of her wife. It was loaded with French vanilla creamer and too much sugar for Beca to stomach. She swallowed two gulps of black coffee and cupped her hands around it to keep in the warmth. The house had to be cold. Though, her nose suffered the most from the stark temperature.

Chloe hummed into the steam rising from her drink “Coleman is supposed to drop of the sample today.”

“Coleman is s douche.”

“A douche with a sample. And besides, he won’t even come into the house. The light is too much for anyone to handle, much less the test slides. He’ll drop it by the greenhouse and be on his way.”

“I don’t even want him in my vicinity, Chlo. His male testosterone permeates the air.”

Chloe didn’t’ dignify Beca’s dramatics with a response. It reminded her of the days when she would run around on playgrounds, crunching over mulch and trying to get away from the boys with cooties. But then she had become a biochemist and even well before that, knew that that’s not how things spread.

Not cooties anyway. Maybe the flu or a common cold, but the only thing men were good for in this century was transporting what they needed. People in Doveport never gave a man a second look. Not when they dawned a hat and had grease on their hands. They wouldn’t question his duffel bag or the scent of gunpowder.

Beca went to take another sip of her coffee but stopped mid gulp when the familiar hum of the central cooling system sputtered to a stop. They had grown so used to the noise and the icy atmosphere. She exchanged a worried look with her wife and lowered the cup. “Well shit.”

“Was it supposed to storm today?”

“No. I checked.” Beca tapped the paper absently before pulling herself from the kitchen table. They didn’t’ have much time before their backup generators would kick on. But those hadn’t either. Not yet. Why hadn’t they? Fuck.

Chloe must have had the same thought. Worry crossed her features before she padded across the kitchen and pulled the door to the basement open. She creaked down the steps and was instantly overwhelmed by the heat that had already begun to fill the sod-coated room.

There weren’t basements in the south. Not usually but they had chosen the old Victorian because it had one in the first place. She walked towards the line of tables that were usually lit by a bluish-purple light. Those had gone off too.

In the stumbling darkness she grasped the samples carefully and placed them in the large freezer under the stairs. The ice that incrusted it wouldn’t’ last long but hopefully this power outage wouldn’t either. She sealed it. She prayed about it too but wouldn’t’ let Beca know about that.

Science was magic and magic was science and religion fell somewhere in between but it eased her mind to speak to a higher power regardless.

“Chlo! I think you should see this!”

She didn’t waste any time sprinting up the slotted stairs and leaving the musty basement behind. Sweat had formed against her cheeks and made her skin tight when it hit whatever cold air was left in the nearly empty living room. Beca had peeled the blackout curtain back and the light stung her eyes.

“You opened the window?” Chloe asked.

“I was curious.” Beca Said.

Chloe sighed and squeezed close to her partner before she herself pulled back the dark cloth just an inch. Her heart rushes faster and there was a heat leaking through the windows. She hated the south and the lack of silence that it held onto.

It was the same street that she saw once or twice a month when she ventured from the house. There was another house across the way that had been empty since they arrived. There was a cop that lived next door and a nice family adjacent to them. But right now- there was blood.

The patrol car that usually sat in the driveway was turned on its side and a mass of guts and blood and teeth stirred in the front driveway. She saw fingers flick and smelled fire, or gas, or a mix of both. It made her throat burn.

A stranger, a man in fishing waders had half of his face missing and a dead look behind his yellowed eyes. He limped and groaned tepidly, continuing like he was going on a stroll. His jaw swung back and forth as a clock and Chloe grimaced.

“Well damn.” She let the curtain fall, “This is bullshit we were so close.”

“I know, but someone else was closer.”

Beca walked back towards the kitchen and grasped her now chilled cup of coffee. She finished it off and grabbed the newspaper, looking at the smiling face of the firefighter with a burnt-looking cat in his arms. It was filthy and its fur was matted. She frowned and placed it back on the table.

“Damn government funding. If I could have just gotten my hands on the Amscope.” She grimaced “we’re going to buy you a whole house but you can use a magnifying glass to create a zombie virus.”

“The institution is counting on you, Miss Mitchell.” Chloe mocked.

“Doctor Mitchell, I swear, they always forget that part. You know what we can’t forget? The nine years of our life that we spent getting degrees in science and then another three years held up in this place creating a bioweapon that we didn’t even get to release.”

Chloe lifted her eyebrows and leaned against the adjacent kitchen wall. She had to admit, it was a little disappointing. A letdown after all of this time. But she felt a bit of relief well up inside of her. They would send an extraction team for them at some point and then maybe they would be directed to create a cure. Maybe.

“I think we should get a cat,” Chloe said, picking up the paper and wiggling it towards her wife. “Look at his cute little face.”

“Mm, before or after the apocalypse?” Beca asked.

“During, probably,” Chloe said. “I’d consider a dog.”

#beca mitchell #chloe beale #bechloe #bechloe fic rec #bechloe fanfiction #Pitch Perfect #pitch perfect fanfiction #request #apocolypse au

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snowdice · 4 years

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Is There Anything Left of Patton? (Part 8 of the Series “Is There Anything Left of Patton?”)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan/Patton, Virgil & Patton

Characters: Patton, Logan, Virgil, Roman

Summary:

Is there anything left of Patton?

...

Patton would like to know.

Notes: Zombie Apocalypse AU, Patton is a zombie, Angst, two paragraphs of fairly light gore, sickness, character death (in a way)

Look I am very proud of this part. Really proud. I’ve been chomping at the bit to post it.

Thanks to @kieraelieson for betaing

This is the eighth part of a series of one-shots called Is There Anything Left of Patton?

Previous parts:

“Something Left”

“Someone You’ll Never Meet”

“Food You’ll Never Eat”

“Things You’ll Never Do”

“There Are Things That Are Lost”

“There Are Things That Are Missing”

“And There is a Question”

(If you are using a screen reader, please read this on AO3 which I have linked here. There is a part of this chapter that would mess with a screen reader. So, I have an edited copy that is the same with a briefer description of that part.)

Patton booted up his 60s and 70s playlist on his phone and paused to listen for a few seconds, hoping it would put a little pep in his step. He’d gotten up about an hour later than he usually did with the beginnings of a major headache, but he was hoping he could ignore it and push through. He didn’t bother to boot up his laptop, instead just going through and responding to the most pressing work emails on his phone. His eyes were already straining after that short task, so he closed them and let the phone fall to his chest, trying to focus on the music still coming through the speakers.

He woke up 5 hours later. The headache had not abated, in fact, it had only grown worse. He coughed, hoping the tickle in his throat was just from it being dry and he wasn’t getting sick. He and Lo had plans for the weekend.

The plan had been to do most of the chores today so their weekend would be free; it was half of the reason he was working from home today, but he might have to do an abridged list. The vacuuming and dusting could wait a bit yet and Logan and he could tag team the dishes from this morning when they cleaned up after dinner. Laundry had to be done today if he wanted something to wear tomorrow, but that wasn’t too hard of a task. He also should probably water the plants, especially the one by the armchair; it looked a little dry. Then, he should cook something for dinner before Logan got home. His head throbbed. Maybe just something simple.

He gritted his teeth and sat up. It’s easy, Patton, he told himself, water the plants, do the laundry, cook. It was a short list. He could do it.

Okay.

Gather the laundry. Patton had left two of his cardigans strewn about the living room and dining room, so he picked those up on his way to get the laundry from the bathroom upstairs. He put everything into a basket before heading to the laundry room and starting the first load.

Water the plants. He grabbed a pitcher and filled it with water. He started making the rounds but got distracted by one of the Beatle songs that started playing. He was reminded of what he was supposed to be doing when the washing machine buzzed.

Switch the laundry. He took the laundry in the washer and put it in the dryer before adding another load. Then he went back into the living room.

Finish watering the plants. Had he watered the plant in the corner? He couldn’t remember, but even if he had, the plant had been a bit neglected so watering it twice shouldn’t hurt. He watered the plant and then sat down on the couch again.

His headache was getting worse.

He needed to cook something for dinner.

Something really simple then. The washing machine buzzed again while he was thinking about what to make.

Laundry. He grabbed the first load out of the dryer and switched the others. He tossed one of his cardigans on the couch. He figured he’d probably want it later since he’d started to go through phases of hot and cold in the last 30 minutes or so. He stared at the laundry and managed to fold a couple of the important pieces before deciding that was enough for the moment.

Cook. He walked into the kitchen and stumbled when the headache suddenly increased. Black spiderwebs spread out over his vision and he fell, hitting his head on the countertop. He gasped in surprise and pain as he crumpled onto the floor, holding his head. He felt hot all over and cold at the same time suddenly. The cough returned, shaking him completely. He tasted blood.

This was not normal.

He grabbed his phone from his pocket and wasn’t sure if he was having trouble reading the numbers because of whatever was wrong with him or because of the panicked tears building in his eyes. He managed to dial 911 with shaky fingers. He wasn’t sure how he was able to so calmly wait for the operator to answer and then explain what was happening to the best of his abilities. He gave his address and told her he was in the kitchen.

He made the mistake of trying to get back to his feet and sit in one of the kitchen chairs while he waited for the ambulance to arrive. He did manage to make it to his feet, but then everything went black.

He woke briefly to strangers touching him. He did not like it. Paramedics, his brain supplied. He tried to tramp down the overwhelming instinct to struggle against the restraints on him. He’d been strapped to a gurney he assumed, and there was something boxing in his neck. A woman’s face lent over him.

“Hey, there,” she said. “Patton, right? Try not to move,” she requested, as he was being wheeled out of his front door toward the ambulance. “It’ll be fine.” Ironic last words to hear before you die. Ironic last words to say before you die too.

The other paramedic, a man that had been wheeling Patton out of his house, looked up at something behind the woman with a confused, pinched expression. Then, the woman screamed. Blood and bits of flesh splattered all over Patton. The other paramedic screamed too a moment later as the person or thing that had attacked turned its attention on him, dropping the woman’s dead body so it slumped against the gurney and Patton for a moment before sliding slowly down, leaving the feeling of wet, warm blood against Patton’s front and side.

Patton was never touched by the person who had attacked. After all, what would be the point of the virus targeting him when he’d already been infected the day before.

He died 10 minutes later.

…

Sort of.

He awoke (in a way) sometime later. Though, it is perhaps strange to say he woke as his eyes had not been closed and he was somewhat aware that his body had been moving for a long time before then. There was something around his middle and out out out raged at the back of his skull, but that is not what had woken him. No, what had woken him was a much too warm touch on his cold face and the harsh black tingling feeling that crawled like ants up his throat to settle between his teeth.

Patton did not like that feeling. He tried to yank away from it both physically and mentally. Physically there was not far to go as he was still strapped down, but mentally he jerked hard on that foreign desire pulling at him and it retreated a bit. For all the hissing wildness of the urge and his own fractured brittleness of consciousness, it was easy to rein in the instinct and make it freeze in place. Like Patton was a dying tree and it was a balloon whose string got caught in his branches.

The soft touch on his face retreated and what Patton recognized as words were said though none of them settled in Patton’s head enough for him to make sense of them. Soon he felt more touch near where he was restrained. He felt himself squirm without meaning or wanting to. Soon enough, he was free and like a puppet on a string, his body sat up. Then…

Touch. Touch, touch, touch.

It was not something Patton chose to do, in fact he was flickering in and out so much, he didn’t think he could have done it if he’d tried, but his hands were reaching for the warm thing in front of him and grabbing at it. Yet, the touch was soft; that was okay, Patton decided.

After a moment, Patton got soft touches in return, warm hands on his face and careful hands pushing Patton’s own away a bit. There were more words, quick things that left no impressions. Eventually, he was pulled forward with his whole front against the warmth and his mouth was pressed up against something hard and bony like someone’s wrist. He turned his head away a bit displeased with the feel of the thing over his mouth, but he allowed the warmth against most of his front to say. Safe, he thought. Whatever the warmth and soft touches were, they were safe. Safe enough that, while he made sure to keep a good mental grip on the bad instincts still wiggling in his head, he felt like it was okay to fade into nothing once again. He thought he could hear crying as he went.

For a long time after that, he was nothing more than a ghost haunting his own flesh. He barely existed, but for the brief moments he flickered into consciousness to shove the prickling instinct inching in his mouth and throat firmly away.

Other than that, the aching out out out caused by the constant restraints keeping him tethered to the wall, mostly kept him from thinking. He’d tune in sometimes when Soft Touch came to talk to him, but quickly faded away knowing he was safe. Perhaps he did not like the things that held him down, but he knew it was okay. He was okay and that was enough.

Then, suddenly, there was a voice. Soft Touch came with a voice too which always settled familiarly around him, but he was used to it enough that he never paid it much mind. This voice was different though. It had a certain candidness to it and was a bit lower. At the beginning it often rumbled a bit like a growl, but over time it started to soften around the edges, growing kind. It spoke to him a lot and the newness pulled Patton into trying to listen to it more sometimes when he was slightly awake.

One time, after the kind voice had visited and left and visited many times, it suddenly came closer. Things were pressed against him and he did not like that and tried to pull away as much as he could, but then they stopped. Kind Voice spoke from right in front of him for a long time and Patton tried to listen.

“Garden.”

He thought he liked that word. He wasn’t sure why.

He faded back to sleep with that word in his head.

Things were new but not new then as he was taken somewhere different and allowed to be there a lot of the time. The new place was familiar, but he had trouble clinging to why. It was easier to flicker in every so often when he was not tied down, just to see. Couch. Chair. Picture. Table. Plate. They weren’t really thoughts, just acknowledgments of things and a slight feeling of familiarity whenever he woke. They drifted away rather quickly.

Eventually, random things would drag him momentarily into consciousnesses with a real almost thought.

A piece of paper: I need to send that birthday card.

A dropped piece of cheese on the floor: I really should sweep up soon.

A spoon: No, I do NOT want the tomatoes.

The plant.

Plant?

But nothing really kept him there for long.

Armchair. Good. Soft. There was a clinking from the kitchen and Patton got to his feet, intrigued by whatever had made that, but something tugged him back when he got a couple of feet away. He turned on the thing in agitation, but then stopped short when his eyes landed on the plant in the corner.

Water the plants. It’s easy Patton. Water the plants. Did he water the plant in the corner? Water the plant. Why was he tied to his armchair? Plant.

Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant.

A sound, words, snapped him out of the looping. Then there was a smarting of pain and a crash. Then. Get. He bit back the bad instinct as he heard Kind Voice making displeased sounds under him.

Eventually things settled, the plant gone from his mind.

For a while.

Patton jerked back into consciousness abruptly as the bad instinct flared up more intensely than it ever had before. Prey, it seemed to say, and it is asleep. It is vulnerable.

Patton pulled back so hard on the instinct that he almost choked on it, and it dissolved away in his hands. It faded away completely for the first time in forever.

Patton came to with one arm outstretched and a knee on the bed. After a moment of just being there, he completed the motion he hadn’t started and softly touched the sleeping face in front of him with careful fingertips.

Logan.

Exhausted, he crumpled into their bed and was asleep in a matter of seconds.

Patton eventually started to linger nearer to the surface sometimes. He was not quite there, but at the same time something was there. If that thing was Patton, he wasn’t quite sure. It was a strange bridge between the nothing that was usually there and Patton. When there were distractions around, people moving and talking and touching him, he found himself slipping away in the confusion, but when all was quiet, and he was left along with nothing but fractures of thoughts…

His feet stumbled down the steps in the dark. Need to. Have to. Something. Something. Something.

Plant.

Water the plant.

It did not matter that the plant was no longer there, swept up after its pot was broken weeks before.

It was okay. It didn’t have to be there for Patton to pour water where it once was. Patton wasn’t really there either, after all.

There was a sweater on the back of the couch.

Do the laundry.

He took the sweater to the laundry room and put it in the washer. He pushed the button and was unconcerned when it didn’t make a sound.

…

Had he watered the plant?

Night.

Water the plant.

Laundry in the washer goes into the dryer.

Plant. Where is the plant?

…

Water the plant.

Get the laundry out of the dryer. Too tired to fold. It’s okay, he’ll be cold soon anyway. He’ll just put it down here on the couch... side table... chair.

Wait… whose hoodie is this?

Water the plant.

Again and again and again and again. Like a broken record: round and round. Sometimes he could almost figure out the puzzle before the pieces slipped away.

Patton had been upstairs, his mind drifting to the laundry, but the laundry basket wasn’t where it was supposed to be. He’d been staring at the place it should have been in the bathroom for hours, contemplating the empty space, when there was a loud bang from downstairs. Soon after, there were loud voices, a couple of which he did not recognize. He faded into the background a bit as he was drawn to the noises on instinct.

He didn’t stir again until one of the new voices spoke directly to him.

“Is there anyone alive in there?” a man Patton did not recognize asked. He looked angry and spiteful, but Patton was always good at seeing people’s emotions for what they really were. He was scared. He was scared of Patton, Patton somehow knew, and Patton had never liked people being scared of him. He expected Patton to hurt him, but Patton knew he wouldn’t even when he wasn’t really him anymore. Even if it took up what was left of himself to make it be so. Patton blinked to clear the fogginess at the edge of his vision and looked at the man in front of him.

Is there anyone alive in there?

Yes.

“Yes,” Patton said. Then, he was gone again.

Want to read more? Click below!

And There is an Answer

#sanders sides #patton sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #logicality #roman sanders #platonic moxiety #zombie au #angst #patton is a zombie #italop #adriana writes #gore #illness mentioned #character death #in a way

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straykats · 3 years

Note

this or that:

cats or dogs?

winter or summer?

school or work?

pen or pencil?

dirt or sand?

movies or tv shows?

ice cream or froyo?

would you rather:

be blind or deaf?

have no legs or no arms?

live your current age forever or live a different age forever?

talk to your past self about something or see what someone elses point of view was on something in the past?

only know one language fluently or know 50+ languages but only at a beginners level?

+ random questions

what apocalypse/zombie apocalypse based movie/tv show do you think you could survive in? (examples: the maze runner, walking dead, black summer, z nation, the 100, attack on titan, etc.)

once again, under the cut for length!! gonna ramble a bit too for each i am so sorry but tyvm

cats > dogs!!!!!!! i do love both but aHHHHHH ive accepted that i am a cat person. its weird but i used to feel pressured into saying im a dog person bc everyone i knew had a dog? and i never really had any contact w cats either so that explains a lil bit but !! KJADVKJDNVJKDNVKJ i want a cat so bad and theres a cat cafe in my city but its a bit car for me rip but im really eager to go at least once!! but cats are scary when u hold them bc they're so.. small.. inside.. like.. their skeleton.. so small... im so scared like they feel so fragile and i know they're capable but still

winter > summer !! i love the rain and i dont love the cold but i hate the heat (esp australian summers) so !!!! like eyah winter sucks when you bave plans but as someone who rarely has plans i am Okay With That. summer is wHACK because you can be in short sleeves and you'll still be so uncomfy like tmi maybe but yknow when u're in shorts or smth and u sit on a chair for too long and u stand up and its like peeling a sticker off tupperwear without the ripping bit??? yeah bruh summer aint it for me

school > work...? maybe? i'm unemployed (im looking but most places are like !!! experience needed !!!! babes im asking u for experience) so idk but i do enjoy learning (without the assessments etc) so??? but work doesnt seem too bad... if you're allowing a "neither" answer, i shall choose that.

pen < pencil. i think. pencils flow smoother? i use pen more because its clearer/easier to see and bc habit and also people dont accept pencil for documents and assignments so yknow. but writing with pencil is more satisfying for me.

dirt or sand? babes (wait i've called u babes a few times im sorry if youre uncomfy w that! if u want, lmk and i'll change it) what is this question i have never ever EVER encountered this question before. but.. i think... sand... i'm thinking of dirt as soil and sand combined so.. just sand..

movies or tv shows? OH MANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN uh. depends? somethings are better as a movie and some are tv shows. i think i have more comfort/favourite tv shows as movies so maybe tv shows.. although i /am/ categorising anime and kdramas into tv shows.

ice cream > froyo. i havent had much froyo tbh but from the few times i have, i think i pref. ice cream..

would you rather:

be blind or deaf? blind. i enjoy listening to and find comfort in music way too much. I can also play instruments by ear and learn to adapt to not having sight so! i've grown up surrounded by music too much for me to not be able to have it in my life.

have no legs or no arms? no legs, i think.

live your current age forever or live a different age forever? different age lmaoooo but also i', saying this assuming that living my age forever or living a different age forever comes with the struggles of that age? i'm 19 rn and unemployed and have a few personal things going on and the expectations that are on me are a bit uhhh bc i can't exactly meet all of them so if i had to stay this age with my current experiences, i would rather a different age, one where everything is a bit more organised? but if i can stay 19 forever but still change my circumstances as time progresses then idm that.. so depends on what being a certain age forever means, if that makes sense.

talk to your past self about something or see what someone elses point of view was on something in the past?

only know one language fluently or know 50+ languages but only at a beginners level?

aw man im bilingual and i consider myself pretty fluent in both my languages (eng and viet), but viet im more fluent speaking than reading/writing? if i only knew english fluently (thus not being fluent in viet) i would be really disconnected because speaking viet is such a big part of who i am and my everyday life so its ahhhh... but 50 languages on a basic level...? how basic are we talking..? like conversational basic or like only knowing a few phrases? hm.

+ random questions

what apocalypse/zombie apocalypse based movie/tv show do you think you could survive in? (examples: the maze runner, walking dead, black summer, z nation, the 100, attack on titan, etc.) //// the maze runner maybe but only if we're including the first book/movie and i dont need to go into the maze LMAOOOO i aint got that ya protagonist energy in me. attack on titan... i'm not up to date so i've no idea whats going on in the recent season, but i don't think i could do that. the knowledge of titans on the other side of the wall would make me go bonkers HHAAHA. uhhh i can't think of any other apocalypse mvies/shows etc off the top of my head that i've watched/read so between tmr and aot, i would choose tmr, because at least then i wouldn't be aware of the outside world and i would believe being inside is all i have yknow? like even in aot if i believed that, the titans are too scary. im not saying those spider things in tmr arent scary but idk i'd jsut rather that AHAHA

if you could make one fictional character someone real in your life who would you choose? (could be from a cartoon, tv show, movie, book, etc and if their being portrayed by a real person this is with the assumption that theyll both exist but be two completely different people who very strangely look EXACTLY alike lol) // omg no stop i've like. this question always stresses me out wdym just one i have too many comfort characters ahfbhdbavkdhva BUT alec lightwood! ... as he is portrayed in the book, but with the appearance of matthew daddario. i just.. yeah. alec :(

ty for sending in these questions!!! i enjoyed going through them very much!!

#kat answers #anon

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prompt-and-circumstances · 5 years

Text

We Were All Medicated

Characters/Pairings: No Pairings! OCs, Reader Insert, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Prompt: Medicated (from A Brand New Hurt by Louden Swain) for the 2018 Louden Swain FanFic FanArt Project (third year!) by @mrswhozeewhatsis

Word Count: 1,997

Warning(s): Angst, Sorrow, Guilt, Death. Look here, this piece hit me in the feels and I’m the joker who wrote it!

A/N: This is a reposting of last year’s challenge piece. It is the sequel to the 2016 Louden Swain Challenge piece “Pop Tart Heart.” All lyrics were used and are not bold or marked in any other way. I didn’t want them standing out like a sore thumb, I wanted this to read smoothly. This can be read in one of two ways: the first way is to go back and read Pop Tart Heart first and then this piece. The second way is to just read this fic as a standalone piece. I do reference the first piece and summarize it in one paragraph within this piece. There will not be a part three, the story ends here.

We Were All Medicated

Holy Chuck. That totally hurt. Of course, that was expected. What wasn’t expected was how relieving the pavement actually was. One would naturally assume that when you get knocked down onto pavement, you a) get the wind knocked clean out of you and b) you get hurt in two directions. Once from the attack and second from the pavement catching your flesh and bones. You braced yourself for more beatings from the group, but they walked away once you hut the ground. Weirdest bullies ever.

You just lay there for a few minutes, okay, maybe more than a few. The pavement seemed to caress the treads of your distress; it was as if the coolness from the concrete was seeping into your very being and washing away the stress, and pain, and guilt. Oh, how you wanted to lay there for eternity! But as Tommy always said, “you gotta grip onto that cow as your seat and speed the plow.”

To be honest, you didn’t have clue one what in the hell that actually meant, but you always assumed it was his version of the age-old adage “if you fall off the horse, get back on.” Good ‘ole Tommy Bandenberry. He was your best friend your entire life until he died with the rest of the scholastic team in a freak bus accident. One year later, that creep Colin Rottergut raised them and the entire cemetery with voodoo. You, your boyfriend Toby, Tommy’s little sister Chelsea, and your nerdy friend Maddox banded together and defeated the zombie dudes. The town “re-died” because of two strange men, brothers, Sam and Dean Winchester. They apparently did this stuff for a living. They stopped Colin and made the four of you swear to never get into hunting monsters.

And the four of you kept to that promise. At least, you tried. You were seniors in high school when the zombie apocalypse happened. Then you all went off to college and not the same ones. You and Chelsea went to one, Toby to another, and Maddox got into an Ivy League school and none of you were surprised. The guy was a total nerd. You all genuinely gave that promise the college try…but it wasn’t enough.

You still didn’t know what happened to Maddox, it was like he ceased to exist or something except you still remembered him. He disappeared without a trace, it’s honestly the damnedest thing. You certainly hoped it had nothing to do with the actual damned. According to the Winchester brothers, monsters are real so it only makes sense that angels and demons are real too, right?

You got into this series of books in college, Supernatural. Some guy named Chuck Shurley wrote them, and they were scarily accurate. You and Chelsea started saying things like, “I swear to Chuck,” and “Oh my Chuck” instead of God’s name. Neither of you knew if God was real, but this Chuck fellow seemed like a good substitute. He just knew too much. You always wondered if the Winchester brothers knew about him and his novels. Did he even have their permission to write that stuff much less print it?

You and Chelsea even got a book club going on campus for those novels. Everyone thought it was great fiction, but you and Chelsea knew the truth. They were real. A slight breeze washes over you and reminds you, you’re still lying on that pavement. You sit up but continue to sit on the cool pavement. You know, for a sidewalk it was awfully clean. There weren’t any markings, or gum spits, or dog droppings, or anything. Not even chalk from a kid during summer. It was just so, pure.

“Like your words, so gentle in their reflection in my window. I knew you would be the kind of girl I could talk to.” Chelsea was special, she was super girly and followed all the latest cosmetic trends. The girl never had a strand of hair out of place and didn’t know how to not accessorize anything and everything. She was a beauty queen, but she was also kind and bubbly. Everyone always assumes the pretty ones are mean, but she wasn’t. She refused to be placed into that mold. She was Tommy’s little sister after all, so you guys have known each other forever.

You remembered when they moved into your neighborhood, right next door to you. You were both five years old. You were sick with a cold and watched them unpack from the window in the downstairs living room. You were so curious but couldn’t join your parents outside to greet and help. You had to stay inside. That’s when you met her. She must have seen you watching them, and she practically bounced over to your window, breathed on it and started writing on it. The two of you did that for hours while the grown-ups unpacked. You’ve been best friends ever since.

Chelsea and Maddox always had a thing in high school. Maddox always seemed a little strange and sometimes you both wished he was a little less insane. All that nerd mumbo jumbo made your heads spin, but not in that creepy Exorcist way. Maddox was always proclaiming, “I may be crazy, at least I’m medicated!” He was such a dweeb sometimes but he always made you guys laugh. The guy was a true gem. You just can’t believe he’s gone without a trace.

Toby went looking for him a few months back. Your boyfriend was eerily protective of you, ever since the zombie dudes incident. He was hell-bent on making sure you didn’t lose another friend and take the blame for it, especially when it couldn’t possibly be your fault to begin with. You remembered calling Toby and telling him to stop the search. You could feel your gut telling you, this wasn’t normal. Something happened, a Winchester kind of thing, and you guys made a promise. A pact even. You were not to go a-hunting.

You turn your head to the sky; the sun is beginning to fade and the Nebraska sky is showing why it’s Nebraska. You sigh, still not ready to stand up on the pavement. You’re getting too lost in your thoughts and memories. “I was intense, you said. To that I silently took offense while you laughed, but I didn’t think it was funny.” Toby insisted your gut instinct was just fear and he continued searching. Two months ago, there was a report on the news, a young man had been found. Dead. Toby was dead. No one knew how, when, where, or why. He was just found. Police say where he was found is not where he died.

You never even went to the funeral. He should have listened! Tommy, Maddox, Toby, and then your worst fear realized; it was Chelsea’s turn. She invited you to some weird ass event her beauty class was doing, and you agreed to go but never made it. You got swamped at work and then your car stalled. You tried to call and let her know you’d be late and possibly miss the event altogether. She never picked up. You assumed, and justly so as any person would, that she was busy with her event. The next morning you got her voicemail, Hey, it’s Chelsea. It’s filling up in here so I was saving your place. I was scared you’d be replaced and I didn’t want to sit with a stranger. Hope to see you soon!

It was cryptic to say the least. Fear of getting replaced? You never did figure out what she was talking about. Later that afternoon, she was declared missing and three weeks later her body turned up, just like Toby’s. You were the only one left. You couldn’t stop asking yourself if their deaths were your fault. It seemed like the only common denominator in everyone’s deaths was you. So how could you stop yourself from making the same mistake?

You knew you couldn’t go looking for Maddox and you couldn’t try to discover what happened to Toby and Chelsea. You placed a call to Dean’s phone and Sam’s phone as back up, in case Dean didn’t get the call. You left messages on each. You never heard from them either. You felt utterly helpless. And alone.

Whatever was coming for you, you knew it was coming. It had to be. You did attend Chelsea’s funeral. It was awful. The only thing as awkward as goodbye, was standing up in your seat to let her by. You should have been a pall bearer, but you just couldn’t handle it. You didn’t know how you fought the tears back as her casket solemnly made its way past you.

The pavement’s coolness seemed to finally dissipate. It took you way too long to realize that it was backwards. In the hot afternoon sun, it should have been warm and in the evening, it should have been cool. It was cool in the afternoon and cold in the evening. You thought on it, and it seemed as if everything else was normal except for that one thing. The pavement was horribly off, like someone forgot how it worked when they made a world just for you. A world. Just for you.

Sam and Dean were very solemn as they built a funeral pyre. They were preparing yet another hunter’s funeral. This one was different though. They were used to burning their friends and family, that was the hunters’ way after all but this was for a kid. A kid they knew once, a kid they rescued and swore to secrecy. The Winchesters had gotten the kid’s phone messages too late; they arrived too late. The brothers had investigated the deaths of Toby and Chelsea, and while it took a little longer to get done, they did find Maddox.

Maddox was just as dead as the other two were. Sam and Dean tried to keep hope that they could save the last one, but they were just too damn late. Two years ago, they taught these kids about hunting and monsters, but they clearly didn’t teach enough. The Winchesters hoped none of the kids were aware of what happened, that the dreams were real enough so they’d never know the Djinn were feeding off of them.

They burned the carcass of Maddox where they found him, and Toby and Chelsea had been properly buried. They didn’t have the heart to dig them up to burn them; they wanted to leave them undisturbed for the grieving parents. Sam struggled to light the match, his tall frame sagging with sorrow. He remembered how brave this kid was, two years ago leading the assault against a zombified town. He knew he’d never meet this kid again, never speak again.

Dean was blaming himself. “Dean, it wasn’t your fault.” Sam tried to console his older brother.

“I know Sammy, I just can’t help thinking if I had gotten to my phone sooner. Maybe in another life, maybe we could have been…”

“I know, I know.” Sam choked back tears, “maybe we could have saved them, all of them. But we didn’t, we couldn’t. You remember the Djinn, it’s likely these kids died pain free, not knowing what was happening. We can take that with us, knowing they didn’t suffer.”

“Yeah, whatever. Just light the damn thing up, I want to get back on the road.”

Sam just looked at Dean and bit his tongue. Dean was dying inside and standing here watching an innocent kid burn in a funeral pyre, was just too much right now. Sam flicked the lighter on and tossed it onto the mound. Neither brother would ever admit it, but each said a silent prayer to Chuck to watch over these kids in heaven. Sam prayed for Chelsea to be reunited with her brother Tommy, and Dean just prayed that they’d have better heavens than they did final medicated dreams.

#2018 louden swain fanfic fanart project #medicated #A brand new hurt #louden swain #supernatural fanfiction #SPN Fanfic Pond

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twdeadfanfic · 6 years

Text

Life at the end of the world Pt.17

Summary: Your life as a zombie apocalypse survivor. It starts with the Reader settling into the camp at the quarry, before s1 and then follows the show events and storyline, more or less, but with the Reader in it.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: Slow burn, violence, language.

Author’s note: I’ve been itching to write a fic like this for a long while and I write it for fun, I don’t claim to be a writer so if you find you dislike this fic, please be kind and just stop reading. English’s not my first language so maybe there’re some mistakes, I apologize in advance. For the same reason, I can’t write character’s accents and things like that. At any rate, I hope you enjoy it. There’d be several parts to this.

With everyone discussing what to do, you didn’t have a moment to really talk with Andrea until later, while she went to talk with Carol and held Lil Asskicker.

‘I’m glad you are alive.” You told her awkwardly, unsure of how to talk to her now that you had the chance, after all this time thinking her dead, after sort of having abandoned her.

“I’m glad too.” Andrea chuckled, passing Judith to Carol.

“I...I’m sorry about the farm...” You muttered, looking down. “I should have come back for you...I didn’t think you make it...”

Andrea gave you a smile.

“I never blamed you...you wouldn’t have found me, I ran away from there as soon as I could.”

You still felt guilt and remained silent for a moment while she coddled Judith.

“What are you doing with that psycho, Andrea.” You said finally said, directly.

“It’s not that easy Y/N...he’s not how you think he’s.” She tried to explain and you huffed.

“You saw what he did to Glenn and Maggie” You couldn’t believe she was that blind.

“That was Merle.” Andrea insisted as if trying to make herself believe it and you didn’t know what more you could say to her. It seemed pointless.

“I’m going to talk with Rick again. He has to see that a deal is the only solution to this.” She said before walking away.

“What do you think?” You asked Carol, watching Andrea go.

“I think we have a valuable ally inside our enemies if Andrea plays her cards right,” Carol said coldly, and you wondered what they had been talking about. “She seems close enough to the Governor to slash his throat on his sleep. I hope she takes advantage of that.”

There was a time when the thought of killing a man on his sleep while you shared his bed would have horrified you, but it seemed those days were long gone.

---

“I can’t believe Rick’s making Andrea leave!” You complained to Daryl, the two of you sitting down on top of the table together again.

“He’s not making her leave, she wants to.” Daryl pointed out.

“Well, then we shouldn’t let her!” You exclaimed frustrated. “The Governor is a sick, evil man, who knows what he’ll do to Andrea if he thinks she’s working with us...”

“Do you want us to lock her in a cell or what?” The archer shrugged. “She’s a grown ass woman, can take care of herself.”

“I know...I just...I thought she’d stay with us now.” You were worried about your Andrea’s safety in Woodbury and didn’t understand why she would leave now that she had found you again, especially to go to a psycho like the Governor.

“Andrea wants to stay in Woodbury. And she’s going to talk the Governor into making a deal with us. Rick and I talked with her again and Rick agreed on meeting with him and trying to sort it out.” Daryl gave you a small smile when he saw you beaming at him.

“That’s so good!” You were beyond happy. Rick seemed to sort of trust Andrea then, and maybe they could work on a deal and everything would be good for your group, you all would be finally safe. You had to believe it, you forced yourself to do it. The other possibility was too scary to think about it.

“I still think is not going to work.” Daryl broke your bubble of hopeful thoughts. “We gotta get ready in case he comes for us.”

You pushed him softly with your shoulder, but you knew he was right. Things had a way of going wrong lately.

You worried about Andrea leaving when the sun was already getting down, she would have to walk to Woodbury during the night, with all that it entailed. But to your relief, when you walked out to say your goodbyes you saw Rick had lent her a car. He also gave her a gun and some ammo, and you saw a glimpse of the old Rick. You hoped he will be totally back soon.

You all watched until Andrew drove off and disappeared down the road and then walked back inside.

The atmosphere inside the cellblock that night was tense and anxious. You all were silent, lost in your worried thoughts. You had talked quietly to Carol for a bit, sat down next to her close to the lit candles, but now she seemed lost in thought too. You were right there with her, wondering if Andrea was already in Woodbury, if the Governor was listening to her, if he’d agree to her plan and make a deal with you, or if your group would have to face another attack. You were grateful when Beth started singing, helping you to take your mind off everything that could go wrong for a bit.

“Andrea is trying to sort out a reunion so the Governor and I can make a deal. But we don’t know if it’ll work out and we need to prepare ourselves in case we are attacked again” Rick informed all of you before you got ready for bed. “Tomorrow at first light I’ll go out on a run to bring back supplies, gear, guns, ammo, anything I can find. I’m taking Carl and Michonne. Daryl and Hershel will be on charge of this while I’m gone. We’ll come back before dusk.”

Carl nodded solemnly and so did Michonne, but she seemed surprised.

One by one, your family retreated to their cells to sleep and so did you, but after what seemed like an eternity lying there you couldn’t get yourself to fall asleep. Too many things worried you. You weren’t as good at being positive as you wanted.

Tired of tossing and turning, you got up and walked out of the cell, hoping to clear your mind with a walk, even if it was just up and down the cellblock.

You found Daryl sitting down on the floor, facing the cell where Rick had locked his brother for the night.

“What are you doing out here?” You asked him quietly, not wanting to wake up anyone.

“Keeping an eye on Merle,” Daryl replied, looking at you as you sat down next to him before training his eyes back to the cell.

“He doesn’t look like much of a threat right now.” Merle was lying on the bunk although in the dark you couldn’t make if he was asleep or not. “And he’s locked.”

Still, you knew Rick had told Daryl that if Merle caused trouble it would be on him, so you guessed the archer had taken it to heart. You wished he didn’t have that weight over his shoulders.

“I couldn’t sleep anyway.” Daryl shrugged.

“Yeah, tell me about it.” You yawned and lay against the railing. “My brain wouldn’t shut up about everything that might go wrong.”

“We’ll manage.” Daryl tried to comfort you, but you had the feeling he was as worried as you.

“What do you think about tomorrow’s run?” You asked in a whisper after a moment of silence.

“We need it but I’m not sure I trust Michonne,” Daryl whispered back to you. “She’s helped us...I guess will find out tomorrow if she’s really with us.”

“I trust her, I kind of like her.” You hadn’t really talked much with her, but she had given you a good vibe. She seemed so hard and rough at the outside, but even after only exchanging a couple of words here and there with her you were sure she was actually kind-hearted. Just like someone you knew.

“She wants the Governor dead, if only for Andrea. She’ll help us.” You added. “What worries me it’s actually Carl.”

“How’s so?” Daryl frowned at you.

“I know he’s good at all this surviving and killing walkers and what not, but he’s just a kid, he shouldn’t be going out on a run, especially not in a moment like this. And I feel Rick’s putting too much pressure on him.” You had been thinking like that for a while now, but hadn’t shared your thoughts with anyone. “Rick should see it.”

“Rick wants him to be strong to survive, that’s why he makes him do all this, he needs to.” The archer pointed out. “He has to be able to survive on his own in this world.”

“I know...but Carl has gone through so much...” You knew Rick loved Carl with all his heart, loved him more than anything in the world, and for that reason he behaved with him the way he did, but you wished he saw what that was starting to do to Carl. “I know he has to be able to survive and all that, but I wish he were also able to be a kid. He’s had to grow up too fast and he’s turning cold...I guess there’s no time to be a kid in this new world.” You added sadly.

“I got no time to be a kid in the old one either anyway,” Daryl said in such a quiet voice you almost didn’t hear him.

It broke your heart. You still didn’t know that much about Daryl’s life before the walkers roamed the world, but with what you knew about his family, you had no doubt little Daryl had gone through a lot too and probably hadn’t had the chance to be a little kid for long.

You didn’t know what to say, didn’t knew if Daryl had meant for you to hear him or not, so you stood silent, hoping that at least your company would bring him a bit of comfort. You hoped he knew that now he had a family who cared for him and loved him, that he wasn’t alone anymore. At the very least, he wouldn’t have to sit alone outside his brother’s cell while you were there.

You hadn’t realized you had almost fallen asleep, still lost in your thoughts about Daryl’s childhood, until you felt his hand shaking your shoulder.

“Y/N, go to bed.” He said softly.

“No, I’m fine here, I’m awake.” You said stubbornly, stiffing a yawn. You didn’t want to leave him alone. Neither you wanted to go back to toss in your bed. But you were exhausted after the last days events and after days barely sleeping. “I’ll keep you company...” You said sleepily, your eyes already starting to close again.

Daryl snorted quietly at your words, seeming amused at you, but said nothing else. He stiffed when you rested your head against his arm, cuddling up to him, his presence always bringing you comfort, but he didn’t try to shift away, eventually relaxing and before you knew it you were falling asleep.

When you woke up Daryl was gone. You were curled up against a worn out pillow instead of him and his leather vest was laid over you. The sun was starting to come up, dim light filtering through the windows. You could see the flickering light of a candle lighting Rick’s cell, quiet sounds coming from it as he got ready for his run.

You sat up, grimacing at your aching muscles due to your sleeping position on the floor, and put on Daryl’s vest, snuggling into it until a small chuckle coming from Merle’s cell startled you. You looked at it and saw him watching you with an unsettling smile on his face.

“What?” You asked, annoyed, getting up and walking closer to the cell.

“Have you gone all soft on my brother while I was away?” Merle mocked you. “Or it’s just he makes you all hot and bothered, umm?” He wriggled his eyebrows at you and you glared at him, feeling your face heat up as you blushed a deep red.

“Shut up.” You growled, embarrassed.

“Come on, princess, I have nothing against it.” Merle raised his hands in mocking surrender, an ugly smirk on his face. “In fact, I encourage you to bang my brother, see if you can relax him so he stops being an ass.” He chuckled and you didn’t know if you were more embarrassed or angry.

“Fuck you!” You spat, anger winning, and you turned on your heels to leave.

“Well, if you want to do both brothers, sweetheart...” He cackled.

You glared at him with daggers in your eyes, face burning. You opened your mouth to say where he could shove his good humor but decided against it, he’d just keep twisting your words to keep embarrassing you.

“Wait, wait, I actually wanted to talk with you,” Merle called after you when he saw you starting to walk away but you flipped him off without turning. “Come on, Y/N, it’s about Daryl,” he added as if knowing that’d make you stop. It did.

“What?” You growled, stopping in front of the cell’s door again.

“Look Y/N, I’m fine with you fucking my lil’ brother.” Merle began and you rolled your eyes, starting to walk away again. “But you’re making him soft and soft people die.”

“What you mean?” You asked warily.

“Don’t play coy I saw how he was looking at you.” Merle seemed disgusted. “I don’t want him getting killed just cos your sorry ass might need saving. You and your friends, that damn sheriff, had made him weak.”

You knew Daryl had changed since Merle had been gone, he had let himself care about people, so it was no wonder Merle was taken aback by it. But anyway it had nothing to do with you, it had come from him. You were sure his kind, big heart had always been in him, but with Merle around, he hadn’t had the chance to listen to it.

You chose to ignore Merle’s words about Daryl looking at you, trying to ignore the way your heart had skipped a beat when you heard them. Not the right moment. Besides, probably it was all in Merle’s head. He hadn’t cared about anyone but himself in all his life, so probably he didn’t know how caring looked like and he was twisting it all in his head.

“Your brother’s a good person. He cares, he helps people, but that doesn’t make him weak. Quite the opposite.” You jumped to defend Daryl, annoyed with Merle.

“He’s gonna get himself killed,” Merle growled. “I won’t stand here and let it happen.”

“You are gonna pretend you care about your brother now?” You snapped, angry. He was always treating Daryl like shit and now he was going to play the worried brother.

You jumped back, startled, when Merle threw himself at the door, fists clutching the bars so tight his knuckles went white.

“Shut your mouth, bitch.” He hissed. “You know nothing.”

“Everything okay, Y/N?” Rick popped his head out of his room at the sound.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine.” You didn’t want to turn this into anything. You were surprised by Merle’s reaction and you wondered if it might not be a play, if he cared for his brother in his own twisted way. If that was the case, then he should start showing it and stop behaving like an ass. You didn’t give him much credit, though.

Rick walked out of his room and looked from you to Merle, surveying the situation.

“Y/N, help me carry this to the car.” He said, pointing at some bags and you knew there was no point saying no.

“I know how Merle is and neither I want him here, but he’s Daryl’s bother. I don’t want any incidents involving him while I’m away.” Rick said to you once you walked outside and you blushed, ashamed. The last thing you wanted was to give Daryl any trouble. You had let Merle play with you, making you lose your temper.

While you were helping Rick, Michonne, and Carl to get everything ready in the car, you caught sight Daryl, smoking up in the watchtower and as soon as the trio got into the car, you walked up the tower’s stairs to meet him. He was leaning on the railing, watching Rick’s car drive away.

“Hey!” You greeted.

“Hey.” Daryl looked at you over his shoulder, doing a double take when he saw you with his vest, before looking at the treeline again.

“Haven’t you slept at all?” You asked, leaning against the railing and taking in the dark circles under his eyes. “Then go and get some sleep.” You said when he shook his head at your question. “I’ll keep watch.”

“I’m fine.” He rasped. “Rick wants me to take care of this.”

You knew how much it meant to Daryl that now Rick leaned so much in him, that he trusted him like that, and that he valued him and respected him. It was probably something he wasn’t used to. You had seen Daryl starting to follow him after the farm fell, looking up to him, and you felt Rick was becoming some sort of brother for Daryl with Merle gone.

You were glad Daryl had something like that, someone like Rick, and were happy Rick had seen the good in Daryl.

So you understood Daryl’s need to take care of everything with Rick gone, it wasn’t only that he cared for all you and wanted to protect you and keep you safe, of course he wanted that, but also he didn’t want to let Rick down.

Still, he needed his rest as much as anyone and he looked like he hadn’t had much in days.

“You’re not going to be of any help if you are half asleep on your feet.” You said, and he frowned at you.

“I’m not half asleep.” He protested, but you cut him off.

“I know, but you need to sleep. You are exhausted.” You said before he could say anything. “Come on. I’ll keep watch.”

“I don’t know...” Daryl was still frowning. “Something could happen...”

“First, if something were to happen I’m sure the sounds would wake you up.” You understood his reluctance but you were starting to feel like just dragging him to bed by his ear. “And second, if I see something strange I tell you. Come on, you can’t keep watch forever, that’s why we take turns, and you are needed inside too. Don’t think you are going to get someone else to babysit Merle.”

Daryl scoffed but a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Okay...” He accepted reluctantly.

“Keep it,” he said when you made to take off his vest so you could give it back to him. “You’re the one staying outside.”

“Thanks.”

Daryl nodded before finally leaving the watchtower and you watched him walk into the cellblock.

You hadn’t been sitting alone in the watchtower long, curled up in Daryl’s vest, when you heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

“Hi, angel.” Carol teased you, walking in with a steaming bowl on her hands. “I brought you breakfast.”

“Thank you! You didn’t have to.” You took the bowl and began to dig in. You’d never been a fan of oatmeal but by now you ate pretty much anything, and Carol had a way of making anything taste better.

“Is Daryl sleeping?” You asked between bites. “I told him so.”

“I figured you did.” Carol chuckled. “At first he seemed to intend to keep watch on Merle but I sent him to bed.”

“Good.” You replied, mouth full of oats.

Carol waited for you to finish your breakfast before she spoke again.

“You didn’t sleep in your cell this night...” She said nonchalantly.

“How do you know it?” You asked, surprised.

“I woke up before dawn and I couldn’t go back to sleep so I decided to get up and do something useful. “ Carol explained. “I saw Daryl and you looking cozy in the corridor.”

You blushed at her words but didn’t say anything, hoping she’d let it go. She didn’t.

“I understand it perfectly, don’t you worry.” She looked at you with a mischievous smile. “Who wouldn’t rather curl up to strong arms than sleep alone in the small bunk of a sad cell...”

“Carol!” Your cheeks burned in embarrassment.

“I know Daryl’s fond of sleeping on the floor of that perch, but may I suggest next time you try to drag him to your bed? Way better than the floor.” Carol laughed, winking at you as she kept teasing you relentlessly.

“Stop, please.” You begged, hiding your face on your hands. “It’s not like you’re saying it.”

“Why are you blushing then.” She nudged you with her shoulder, chuckling.

“Cos it’s embarrassing!” You exclaimed, face still hidden.

You couldn’t help yourself, you wished it actually were like Carol was insinuating. But it wasn’t, and you knew better than to expect something like that. You’d been just trying to comfort a friend and keep him company.

Carol looked at you with a smirk like she could read you.

“I still don’t think a corridor’s the best place for sleeping.” She said innocently.

“Tell me about it, I feel my neck is bent in all the wrong places.” You complained.

“Really?” Carol blinked, all pretended innocence. “I’m sure Daryl’d give you a nice massage...” She began her teasing again and you chastised yourself for having made it so easy for her.

“Carol, stop!” You warned her, blushing again.

Carol laughed at you but mercifully stopped her teasing.

“I’ll keep you company. Glenn and Maggie will come in a couple hours.” She informed you.

“I thought they kept watch last night? You asked, glad Carol had changed the topic.

“Well, there aren’t many places to be alone in here beside the watchtower.” Carol shrugged. “And I feel they don’t want to be near Merle if they can help it.”

That was something you could understand perfectly.

The sun was already going down when Rick’s car finally arrived. While you helped to take out everything they had brought from the car, you sensed a change in the atmosphere you couldn’t quite pit point, like something had shifted between Rick, Michonne, and Carl, and you even caught Carl and Michonne sharing a joke. You didn’t know what was going on but smiled, it could only be good.

They had brought lots and lots of weapons and ammo, even some arrows for Daryl, and the sight of so many guns made you feel uneasy, it gave a feeling of reality and urgency to the threat you all faced that you hadn’t quite felt yet. You could just hope you didn’t have to resort to that.

When you finished sorting everything out, you saw Michonne carrying something colorful to what had become her cell. Curiosity got the best of you and you walked closer, trying to see what it was.

“What’s that?” You smiled when Michonne showed you the cat figurine. “Oh...I don’t know if I’m a fan of the color or if I hate it.”

“I think is gorgeous.” Michonne gave you that easy, genuine smile that had made you trust her even though you hadn’t known her for that long. “I like cats.” She walked into her cell and began to survey where the cat figurine looked best.

“I love cats!” You followed her inside the cell. “I used to feed all the stray cats that lived in my village.” You felt a pang of sadness you hadn’t felt in a long while at the memories of your life before. “They lived on the streets but used to follow me or come to my door for food and a cuddle. I was really fond of them...” You wondered if they were still out there, roaming through the village, hiding from the dead.

“I’d guessed you had a soft spot for strays by now...” Michonne chuckled.

“What you mean?” You frowned.

“Nothing.” She chuckled again at your confused face. “What you think?” She placed the figurine on top of one of the tiny shelves.

“Perfect place.” You nodded, grinning. “I’m gonna have to get myself something for my room.” It hadn’t occurred to you that you could decorate. This was your home. Even if it was a small thing, the cat figurine seemed to bring something to the cell.

“I’ll bring you something from the next run.”

I’m so excited I finally have Michonne!

@momc95@jodiereedus22@osweetdevilo@sapphire1727@coffeebooksandfandom @the-destielr @checkintoreality@aislingsartistry @daddys-little-princess67

I never thought anyone’d like to be tag in any of my stories so thank you! It means the world! <3

If you want to be tagged please let me know.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead #twd #twd fanfic #twd imagine #daryl x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl imagine #reader insert #life at the end of the world #lew

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billvsamerica · 5 years

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Christmas in Florida

The white powder lashed the windscreen in huge blobs making it impossible to see. We grinded to a halt as the white spray from above covered the car like a foam. Finally, the area started to heat up and the car was practically completely dry. What kind of voodoo was this? Had I fallen asleep while driving again? No, because I wasn't driving and I also wasn't asleep. A snowstorm in Florida, you might be thinking, no way! And you'd be right. I just made you think it was one through vivid descriptive language. We were actually in a car wash readying the car for seeing Shelby's dad, ex-world champion drag racer, Steve Cohen, or as I like to call him (and he secretly likes, but outwardly dislikes), Stevie C or Big Steve. We were sure to be berated if the car’s cleanliness wasn’t up to his standards. And that's what Christmas is all about. Ho, ho, ho everybody!

Their eyes remained on me the whole journey, like I was a sausage in human form

Last year, we spent Christmas apart. This year, to save me from tears, I spent the Christmas with Shelby (Shelby, Shelby...). A very important person was born on Christmas day many years ago. He was Jewish and had very recognizable facial hair. Some call him the savior (of drag racing). And that somebody is Big Steve. He shares his birthday with the big man himself, Ricky Martin and, of course, duh, Lemmy from Motorhead. My own father often complains about his birthday being on January 6th. “Oh, it's too close to Christmas - nobody bothers with it. Oh, I should get a gift for both Christmas and my Birthday. Oh, will you please come and visit me in the home soon, Bill? it gets very lonely in here and I think the nurse is stealing from me.” And to all of those, I simply laugh and say no chance! (He's not really in a home... yet).

It's a strange phenomenon spending Christmas at a destination so close to the equator. Not as weird as spending it within the earth's crust on the actual equator though, which provides me with some solace. We were taking a friend back to her house in Florida, so I volunteered to spend the eight hour journey in the back of the car with a dog with anxiety problems and a weak bladder and a giant dog who thinks he's a chihuahua. Once we arrived, we had thirty minutes to shower off the piss and hair and get ourselves festive for the first family function.

When I think of Christmas in England, I think of roasting chestnuts on an open fire, long walks on the Malvern Hills in the snow, and stopping for a swift pint of ale in a country pub. We walked into the garage of Shelby's uncle's house where he was pointing a handgun at a boat. He was fitting a new sight to the top of the gun.

"Doesn't that make it a bit easy?" I said.

"Not with my shaky hands it doesn't." Shelby's uncle replied.

I queried this in my own head, but thought against arguing. The hosts had kindly accommodated us by preparing a number of vegetarian dishes and the food was delicious.

"You don't eat fish?"

"No, I'm a vegetarian."

"So, no shrimp then?"

They didn't quite understand the commitment I have made to all living things with my abstinence from scranning their dead bodies. Still, as with Christmas gatherings across the globe, somebody had a Chinese puzzle and we all spent a couple of hours trying to figure it out. Dogs and babies created the rest of the entertainment (the party wasn't a front for some sort of underground dog vs babies fight club though, which in some ways, is a disappointment. Note to self: pitch this idea to Vince McMahon or Dana White, failing that pitch to that dodgy guy you met on a train to Aberystwyth once who said he had invented a spoon crossed with a ladle).

As the evening was coming to an end, we handed Mary, Shelby's 94 year old grandma, her gift. It was an Ancestry DNA kit. One of the family members entered the room and walked up to her.

"I just had to see her face when she opened it," he said.

Not sure why - her face was absolutely baffled by it.

The phenomenon that is Mary, the 94-year-old world traveler with a penchant for corgis

For two weeks over Christmas, most people become functioning alcoholics - rising from their slumber to eat leftovers that soak up the alcohol from the night before, which is what I did the next day. That evening, we were heading to Ralph's in Dade City. I've been to some dive bars where I've felt the atmosphere change as I walk in - an instant feeling of not belonging or a high probability of getting my head kicked in. Mainly in Scotland. But few of these, if any, have left me feeling like I may be abducted and used as some sort of sex slave for a closeted hick with family money. That was, of course, until I got to Ralph's.

This is the vibe I got from Ralph's, but as soon as I walked through the doors, my mood changed. I was told by Shelby that Ralph's was a bit "Out of business up the front, party in the back," and she was right. There was a band on that night playing some rock and roll classics, a huge fire with various people gathered around, and a giant 21 year old man with bruised knuckles who I befriended named Eric. Eric didn't seem to know anybody. He claimed that he had a party at his house earlier but everybody left, so he had walked to Ralph's to keep drinking before he met his supermodel girlfriend. I like a good character, and Eric was certainly that. Although he kept nudging me in the stomach with his big hand and putting his arm around me, which I didn't like. I volunteered to walk to the shop with him so he could buy a packet of cigarettes, and when it came to pay I half expected him to ask me for some money. Instead, he pulled out a wad of ten 100 dollar bills and counted them. I thought this was probably not a wise thing to do at the Dollar General next to Ralph's in Dade City, Florida, but didn't want to say anything, again, because of the big hands. I was worried that I would have to keep him company all night, but a few minutes later his supermodel girlfriend actually did turn up and I was left confused. After that, I went inside to play pool. Didn't pot a single ball and then potted the black by mistake, which is how I knew it was time for me to make a dash for the exit through the line dancers and sex offenders at Ralph's, where everybody knows your name (because you're probably the owner's cousin).

Christmas day was fast approaching and on Christmas eve we hosted Shelby's friends and their baby. As they walked in, they told us that the baby was sick. Bit annoying, but unlike adults, it's hard to explain to a baby to keep at least three meters away from me at all times or I will invoke the use of force, but I did keep my distance. The last thing I wanted was a baby cold ruining my festive fun. Like the wisemen in the story of Christ, I led them to the door when they decided it was time to head home. Mary and Joseph (not their actual names) used their truck as a makeshift donkey, their headlights as the north star, and their house as the barn to lay the baby down in. Although technically Jesus wouldn't have been born until the next day, but whatever, I'm trying to get into the festive spirit.

In the morning, we all rose to gather around the tree and exchange gifts. I had already received my main gift, a guitar, from Shelby the month before, but I was stoked to open a leafblower (my first middle aged gift ever) from my in-laws and a number of other treats, including a jar of Branston Pickle. I handed Shelby her main gift. She shook it excitedly and opened it up. I had bought her a robot vaccuum cleaner. Now, granted, she hadn't asked for one, and was a bit surprised less in a "Wow, cool!" way and more in a "What the hell's this?" tone, but I knew she would like it simply for the fact that it could keep the dog company when he was home alone. She lated admitted that she thought I had bought her a pair of Dr Marten boots, which I didn't.

This photo is blurry and Bagel is staring at something and it creeps me out

That afternoon, we were heading for our second family engagement of the holiday period, with the family I did choose, sort of. While milling about eating little puff pastry things and trying not to look at anybody the wrong way, I bumped into Shelby's step second cousin (possibly that is their relation), a tentative link, but one all the same. He told me that he used to live near where we now live and was actually one of the first employees of the World's Largest Dog-friendly Travel Website, BringFido, where I now work. What are the bloody chances of that? Apparently, he left the company disgrace without telling them he wouldn't be returning. Nice bloke, though.

Outside, I bumped into one of Shelby's cousins, who was wearing his favourite shirt for the occasion. He'd gone all out with this one - It read "Guns, God, Trump, Family" in big letters. I took the word “Trump” to mean the British word, to fart out of one's bum bum, making the shirt much more entertaining. I sat down with the men, most of whom had their t-shirts tucked into their trousers, and immediately fit in - not at all coming across as a lanky, camp, British, randomer... The man next to me sat back in his chair and breathed out heavily.

"I was on a forum online,"

Where was this going, I thought as I considered dialling Dateline.

"About guns,” I breathed a sigh of relief.

“And I got into it with these people. I said to them, Do you even like guns unless you own over a hundred?"

I like donuts, but that doesn't mean I - actually, I take that back.

"I mean, I only have 82, and I'd say I was an enthusiast, but the real enthusiasts - they have over 100."

"What guns do you have?” somebody asked.

"Got a grenade launcher."

"What's the practical use of that?" I said, for some reason.

"Scaring birds off your crops"

While literally blowing up everything you've grown in the process and leaving shrapnel in your cabbage, I thought.

"I've got a machine gun, that sort of thing. They're mainly good for the zombie apocalypse."

If I ever become a zombie, remind me not to go to his house.

My new year's resolution is to update my blog more and release a podcast recounting my adventures in China, mainly because I just got a mic stand and I need to use it. Happy New Year to one and all! (Except those who've wronged me. You know who you are. I hope irritating things happen to you all year round, like flat tires and having to spend a fortune to replace your guttering).

An unrelated photo of me and Bagel taken after Christmas

#christmasinflorida #christmas #lol #comedy #funny #blog #bagel #dog #vacation #britabroad

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aion-rsa · 4 years

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The Walking Dead: World Beyond Stars Talk Growing Up With Zombies

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To a certain generation of TV-watchers, zombies are an inevitability. AMC’s The Walking Dead, based on Robert Kirkman’s comics of the same name, first premiered a decade ago. It was quickly followed up by its spinoff cousin Fear the Walking Dead and other zombie shows like Z Nation, iZombie, and Daybreak.

Now the latest zombie effort in The Walking Dead universe, The Walking Dead: World Beyond is set to pay homage to the zombie-watching youth, let’s call them Generation Z (that’s not taken already, right?). World Beyond is a coming-of-age tale about a group of four teenagers who must find themselves amid the zombie apocalypse. Alexa Mansour and Aliyah Royale lead the quartet as the fundamentally different but unshakably close sister duo: Hope and Iris Bennett.

Just like their characters, Mansour and Royale have grown up with The Walking Dead universe as an unavoidable fact of life.

“They would have ‘Freaky Friday’ nights on AMC, and I would watch all the scary movies with my dad. So when Walking Dead came out, I became obsessed and then the nightmares started and I had to stop,” Mansour says.

Hope and Iris, however, aren’t afforded the opportunity to stop watching The Walking Dead universe as they’re deep into it. Alongside Elton Ortiz (Nicolas Cantu) and Silas Plaskett (Hal Sumpston), the pair take off from their relatively safe Campus Colony home in Nebraska to travel the walker-filled country in search of their long-lost father.

We caught up with Royale and Mansour to talk about that journey, what it means to be a part of the Walking Dead franchise, and why walkers are now called “empties.”

A big theme of this show is experiencing the world through the eyes of young people who barely remember a world without zombies in it. With that in mind, do you guys remember a world before The Walking Dead? How old were you when the series premiered and what has your history with it been like?

Aliyah Royale: It was actually something that my two older brothers were obsessed with. That Christmas, the calendar that they got was The Walking Dead themed. They followed the show the whole way through, so to find out that their little sister is now on it has been insane. I grew up knowing that there is this incredible show with these creatures that just terrify everyone, but that actually has an incredible storyline as well. But I was always too afraid to watch it! Walkers freak me out.

Alexa Mansour: I was a little older, I think I might have been like 12 or 13 years old, and I watched it the second that it came out. They would have ‘Freaky Friday’ nights on AMC, and I would watch all the scary movies with my dad. So when Walking Dead came out, I became obsessed and then the nightmares started and I had to stop. I would look forward to seeing Walking Dead at Universal Studios Horror Nights every single year, I was obsessed with it.

Aliyah Royale: That was the one I avoided, the one maze!

What’s it feel like to be a part of this enormous franchise now?

Alexa Mansour: Crazy. It’s just like, it has such a loyal fan base. This show is so many people’s worlds. Even when we were at New York Comic Con and they’re asking us questions about stuff that we wouldn’t even know. They’d read the comics religiously and all this stuff, and they’re so loyal to this show that it’s like, man, I really don’t want to disappoint any of these people.

Aliyah Royale: Yeah, you’re definitely walking into a fan base that is already so invested, at least 10 years worth of invested, in these stories, plus what the comic books gave us. So, I remember just walking onto that stage at New York Comic Con and being overwhelmed by the love in the room and the excitement. I think there was just this hope that was like, we are starting a new story. We’re starting a new chapter with these new characters. It’s also the hope of finding what happens with Rick, what do these three rings on the helicopter mean? Our show just gives so many answers to these people and giving them that opportunity is really awesome.

You guys play sisters on the show. What was it like when you first met each other, and how do you go about building up chemistry?

Alexa Mansour: I didn’t know if she was going to be my sister. I met her at the very, very, very last audition where I had to read with all the possible Iris’s. The person I thought that booked the show was not her, and I was not excited about the person because she was being very mean at the casting. But then I get to Virginia and I see Aliyah. Aliyah calls me, she’s like, ‘hey, I’m your sister!’

Aliyah Royale: She was like, “thank God!” We both have this witty, sarcastic nature to us, this language that only we speak, especially when everybody else is involved or around us. You can just tell that the relationship is so genuine. That relationship is there onscreen and offscreen.

One thing that your showrunner, Matthew (Negrete), mentioned was that he sees that one of the big themes of the show being trauma and how people overcome it, how do you play with that a bit with your characters? How are they working to overcome their traumas?

Alexa Mansour: I think Hope definitely tries to overcome her trauma by not even thinking about it. She masks all of her inner guilt and inner shame with rebelling against everyone and everything, just constantly getting in trouble. It isn’t until later in the season and throughout the season that she actually starts to try and face it head on and forgive herself for everything that’s happened.

The Walking Dead: World Beyond Review (Spoiler Free)

By Ron Hogan

Aliyah Royale: “The night the sky fell”, which is what we call the official moment of the apocalypse hitting, we did not know what we were doing. We were kids. We were what, like five, six? But a lot of things happened that night. Hope and Iris lost people that meant everything to them. I think from that moment, whereas Hope is like, “You know what? eff this, I’m living for me now,” Iris came out of that experience more like, “I was afraid and that night I just lived in fear. For the rest of my life, I am going to make up for that by being everything I can to whoever needs me to be.” That’s who Iris was in this college campus community that they started to live in. It isn’t until she decides to go on the road with her sister and figure out who we actually want to be, and not just who we were forced to be after that night, that we turned into some really bad-ass young adult women. Watching that journey is really incredible.

Speaking of that journey – you guys start off in Nebraska, in Omaha, and then head off on an actual physical journey across the United States. I imagine that means you worked outside a lot. What’s that like filming out in the elements? And are you ever surprised how much Virginia can resemble the rest of the country, depending on where they’re traveling?

Aliyah Royale: Virginia is a special beast. I remember it was like 107 degrees, and it’s raining, and there is lightning in the sky. I’m like, “wait a minute, since when does summer have lightning storms?” Only in the South could I have seen something like that. It was crazy, especially being in those leather jackets, they’re very heavy and keeping our weapons on us. It was insane. Virginia is different.

Alexa Mansour: We got to the point that we tried to put on cooling vests that you would have to charge and fill up. If you didn’t do it long enough, then all they did was make even hotter because they had nothing cold in them. Then having boots and stuff and you’re trying to run through dirt. You got things chasing you, and you have like 50 pounds worth of bags on you. It was crazy. Then by the time we wrapped, it was what, like 10 degrees?

Aliyah Royale: Yeah, the day would start in the hundreds and by nightfall we’d be in the twenties.

Another interesting aspect of this show is that AMC has already announced that it’s going for two seasons, 10 episodes each. What is it like working on a show that you know has an expiration date for them? How does it inform your performances?

Aliyah Royale: For me it doesn’t. I still take the character day by day, episode by episode. I’m not looking forward in terms of “I hope Iris becomes this or hope her story ends like this.” No, moment by moment I’m playing this person and I want to live as that person. All I’m here for is to enjoy the ride. Playing this character has been the opportunity of a lifetime, however long or short I get to do it. It’s a blessing regardless.

Alexa Mansour: Yeah, it’s been so incredible to be a part of a production like this. I think regardless of whether it’s two seasons, 10 seasons, one season, half the season, we’re going to give it our all and do the best that we can.

What are you most excited for people to see once this season premieres?

Aliyah Royale: I love the “empties” (zombies) on our show. They get very creative with the way that they’ve decayed. There are these empties in Boston covered in all this moss. They’ve got nature growing all over them and they’re still sitting in these seats that they were in the night the sky fell. It looks so cool, 10 years later, this is how they’ve developed. They’re still slightly slowly moving. You can see their eyes moving, but they can’t actually move because of all the nature that’s entangling them in these seats. Just the way that our special effects team went to work on these empties, it’s next level.

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Alexa Mansour: The empties were insane. I remember getting freaked out a couple of times by seeing how realistic they looked. But this show proves how tough kids can be. I’m so excited for people to see how badass this whole team of kids is because we’re so used to seeing the adults on the show.

The Walking Dead: World Beyond premieres at 10 p.m. ET, Oct. 4 on AMC.

The post The Walking Dead: World Beyond Stars Talk Growing Up With Zombies appeared first on Den of Geek.

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qvicksilversass · 7 years

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Nowhere to Hide

Are you scared, My dear?

(Bucky Barnes x Reader) (Apocalypse/Walking Dead AU)

You and your makeshift family are getting by just fine in your isolated farmhouse, it’s deep in the countryside and well protected from the infected…until you’re betrayed and Negan decides you need to contribute.

Words: 1730 Warnings: Violence, very bad language, blood, zombies, diddy bit of fluff, nothing too graphic (I’m not that good at writing 😜 )

An: this started out as an idea from a dream I half remembered and it’s my first time writing Negan so let me know if you think anything's bad/off, same with any part of my writing. x

Tags: @wellfuckbuck @aweways @sevenhelens @bugalouie @officialstegosaurus , @itsdarkwitch, @iamtheonewhocares,

(Let me know if you want to be tagged/removed in this or anything else - there’s only one more part to this tho )

Part 1 Part 2

Masterlist

The four children lined up on the battered sofa, shuffling around excitedly as you handed them each a glass of lemonade, all eager to start their Saturday morning ritual. There were no cartoons or computer games anymore, but you made the best of it. A few battered dvds remained and you placed their favorite into the scavenged dvd player. Though it would mean a few less hours using the generator, it was worth it to give them some time to be kids.

“Thank you mummy.” Mary beamed up at you like it was the most normal thing to say and Wanda glanced over at you, ruffling the hair of her son, Pietro.

“It’s y/n sweetie.” You smiled and took your place next to Natasha on the grown up stools, she side eyed you but you ignored her.

“How long has she been calling you that?”

“A few weeks, it’s just a phase…”

“Does Barnes know?”

Thankfully she hadn’t called you ‘mummy’ in front of her father. It made you uncomfortable, you didn’t want to make a big deal of it; you didn’t know how Bucky would take it. He didn’t speak much about what happened before he found you, only that his wife died a few weeks before the world ended. You never pushed him, you saw the pain fresh in his eyes every time Mary mentioned her. You looked after Mary when he couldn’t and in return he kept you safe, that’s how things had always been.

“Y/n?”

“Hey Bucky, what is it?”

“I need to ask you a favour,” he pulled you out into the hall away from the giggling children, “could you take care of Mary? Rumlow’s sent word of an abandoned bunker, full of supplies.”

“Sure.”

“We’ll be back tomorrow morning, make sure you check the alarms, the traps…”

Bucky hated leaving Mary, even now we had this house and all its defenses, what ifs running through his mind at a thousand miles per hour. Part of you hoped he hated leaving you too, just a little bit.

You take hold of his shaking hand and the gesture forces him to look at you, “Bucky,” you smiled up at him, “we’ll be fine. Mary will sleep with me and Natasha’s here. Now what zombie is going to try anything with her?”

“I know doll,” he pulled you into his side, “but we’ve never left you overnight.”

You bit your lip, a fuzzy feeling in your belly as he held you against him. You never spoke about your love for Bucky. No one wanted to make plans, nothing could be guaranteed anymore, but you also didn’t tell him about the bad feeling you had. This sudden bounty seemed too good to be true.

“Daddy? You’re leaving again?” Mary’s small voice echoed down the hall and her brown curls bounced as she ran to her father.

“Just 'till tomorrow,” Bucky grinned at her and swooped her up in his arms, “how 'bout a kiss from my best girl huh?”

“Ewww!” Mary made faces as Bucky peppered sloppy kisses all over her face, “Daddy stop!”

“I love you too darlin’, be good for y/n.”

“Bye daddy!” The little girl skipped back to her friends and your heart raced at Bucky’s affectionate smile as he watched her, quickly averting your eyes when he turned back to you.

“I owe you one doll.”

“I’ll add it to the list.” You grinned playfully and Bucky leaned his face to yours his breath tickling your cheek before he pressed a soft kiss there, giving your arm a squeeze as he pulled away.

“See you in the morning?” he whispered and gave you that knee melting smile before he disappeared down the hallway. That was new. Your fingers lingered on the now tingling spot where his lips had been.

You turned back to see both Wanda and and Natasha staring back at you, amused expressions on their faces.

“Hmm, maybe Mary isn’t that far wrong?”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes and walked into the kitchen, failing to hide the blush burning your cheeks as you made more lemonade.

The day flew by like any other, everyone did their chores and Natasha was posted as look out for the night being the most skilled fighter left among you.

After a bit of a battle you eventually got Mary to brush her teeth and put on her pyjamas. She was so much like Bucky it was scary, so intelligent and curious, constantly asking questions and she was just as stubborn. By the third reading of goodnight moon you both drifted off to sleep.

It had been almost a year since a cure had been found and most of the people in the farmhouse had drifted away to start their own lives, free from the infected. Only you, Bucky and Mary remained, the traps, alarms and defenses long since removed. The farm was a home again and you were you’re own little family. You’d taken advantage of the warm summer air tonight, sitting out on the porch with Bucky while Mary played in the long grass. You snuggled further into his chest, soft and warm as he played absentmindedly with your hair, both of you watching the little bundle wriggle and gurgle in his sleep between you.

“This is nice doll, but you have to wake up now.”

“What?”

“Wake up.”

The calm sounds of the birdsong and breeze through the trees were replaced by gunfire and screaming in the distance gradually becoming louder and louder.

You sit up disorientated a second, relieved to hear Mary’s steady breathing beside you. Heavy footsteps approach your room and you maneuver Mary under the bed, whispering for her to stay quiet. You don’t have time to grab for your gun, the door swings open, banging off the wall and the noises got all that much louder.

“Well, what do we have here? 'Aint you just a fine piece of ass."

Negan? No, you must be dreaming. He couldn’t have found you, you were too hidden. There’s no way.

"Rumlow wasn’t lyin’ when he said this place would be fruitful."

Rumlow. That asshole. You’d warned Bucky and the others about him, he was always so sly, he would do anything to survive. Yet they still gave him a chance. Let him worm his way into your family and he betrayed you all.

"Don’t worry he’s dead, see I value loyalty.” Negan strolled in, dragging that bat along the floor. Your stomach rolled with nausea watching him set the bat against the wall, like it was the most precious thing in the world.

“We were safe…” you shake your head, talking to yourself more than Negan.

“Well, not anymore!” he yells and you scramble backwards, making a grab for your gun holding it out as he approached, mocking you, daring you to shoot.

“You better leave, or-” He tuts and grabs your wrist, twisting it until you drop the gun.

“Now that’s not very hospitable.” Negan throws the gun into the hall and turns back to grab you by the throat. He leans in close and looks you over with an amused smile.

“My men are taking your supplies and the prettiest of your women are being loaded onto trucks as we speak…man, and all that commotion, it’s attracting a little attention if you know what I mean, so, how are you going to threaten me?"

He squeezes your throat tighter, yanking you up off the bed and you grab at his hands, fighting for breath, "Tell you what. I’ll leave the women, sure some of the supplies and only come around once a month for more…if you agree to contribute…”

“Go to hell.” You growled, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how petrified you were.

“That your final answer? Or should I take the kid too?” Negan glances down to the bed and your heart stops. He raises his eyebrows at you, waiting for your answer.

“No. Wait, I’ll contribute.”

”Good choice.“ He releases you and you drop back onto the bed, coughing and gasping for breath.

"Yeah, I know you’re under there darlin’,” he ducked his head under the bed and Mary yelped scrambling out the other side and grabbing onto your arm, hiding her face.

You scowl at Negan and pull Mary over to the bathroom, it had a bolt at least, that would have to do.

“Lock the door behind me, don’t come out until I tell you to and don’t open the door for anyone except me ok?”

Mary scrambled backwards until her back hit the wall, crossing her arms over herself before nodding and covering her ears, “I remember what daddy told me, stay hidden, stay quiet -”

“And wait for me,” You gave her a quick hug before turning back to Negan, “I won’t let anything happen to you, Mary.”

You closed the door, waiting until you heard the bolt close before you stepped away, back towards Negan now leaning against your chest of drawers, his eyes gazing up and down your body.

“Aaw, now that was sweet, see how reasonable I am?”

Negan pushed you against the wall, forcing his knee between your legs,“Give yourself willingly and we might all leave here alive.”

His fingers curl around your throat again, and you bristled at the feel of his breath on your skin, his tongue licking from your neck to your jaw, “Shit you taste good, I might have to keep you."

He plays with the thin material on the neck of your nightdress, ripping it open to allow him to slip his hands underneath. You hiss at the feel of his fingers cold and rough on your skin. Mistaking it for arousal he moans and gropes your breast roughly.

You struggle enough to keep him focused, allowing him to kiss you. He’s forceful and dominant, his tongue searching for yours. The stale taste of cigarettes and smell of whiskey on his breath, his odor of leather and sweat it all makes you want to retch.

While he fumbles you reach behind you and slip your fingers into the drawer, inching it open and feeling around for the hunting knife. You turn the blade around in your hand gripping the handle and plunging it into his side.

"Shit!” Negan grunts, pushing you to the side and stumbling back looking from you to the knife before pulling it out. His eyes shoot to Lucille and he makes a grab for the bat, but you’re quicker and kick Lucille away.

“So, what you gonna do now huh?”

#bucky barnes #james barnes #sebastian stan #negan #jeffrey dean morgan #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #walking dead #au #my fics #my stuff #james buchanan barnes #nowhere to hide #avengers

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artificialqueens · 7 years

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Just The Game We're In- Chapter 5, Part 2- Ortega

A/N: Take note, this is the smallest gap between updates of this fic you will ever experience. Hello again, and thank you so much for the lovely response 5.1 has recieved! We’re now moving onto part 2 of chapter 5, where we pick up from where we left off at Alyssa Edwards’ charity ball. Things are about to get messy, so grab whatever alcohol and snacks you can and settle in for the ride. As always, I love everyone who reads this mad, mad amounts.

Plot Summary: Willam is a senior political advisor to the government’s minister for social affairs and citizenship, Sharon Needles. Throw in a crush on co-worker Courtney, Sharon acting weird around Willam’s colleague Alaska, an incompetent press department headed by Actual Living Zombie Jinkx Monsoon, and Willam’s job couldn’t get much more stressful. No wonder spin doctor Bianca Del Rio is permanently at the end of her tether…

They had only been at the Dorchester for two hours, and the night was already an absolute shambles.

As Willam stood at the bar with Jinkx and swayed slightly in her heels, she replayed the evening’s events in her head. Everything had started off well enough- they had found Bianca and she had greeted them all heartily, Sharon’s transgression from earlier in the day seemingly forgotten. They’d stood and chatted for a while, every so often a new waiter or waitress offering them champagne and Willam, Sharon and Courtney gladly accepting. Bianca even introduced Sharon to an ITV intern who had seemingly managed to blag herself an invite through sheer charm alone; Valerie or Valancia or Val-something.

“She might not seem much now,” Bianca had muttered after she’d been swept away by someone senior at ITV. “But in a couple of years she is going to be big, mark my words. You’ll be glad I introduced you.”

After chatting and drinking with Bianca for a while, Sharon bumped into Chad Michaels, who led her away to a small booth in the bar for a chat. It was nice- Chad really did seem to like Sharon, and so Willam was comfortable at that moment leaving them alone with Jinkx and Alaska as Courtney kept begging Willam to come pee with her.

She supposed that was the turning point of the evening; having a drunk Courtney clinging to Willam’s waist in the middle of the bathroom and telling her how much she loved her and how beautiful she was only made Willam’s heart swell and break at the same time. Having no way of knowing if Courtney was sincere or not hurt her more than she’d care to admit. So Willam did what any other drunk girl would do in that situation and hugged her back, and told her the exact same things except she meant every word, the alcohol only making the truth flow more freely.

They hadn’t kissed, although Willam had wanted to. She’d never admit that out loud, though.

When they’d got back from the toilet, they’d found Alaska on her own at the booth with no Jinkx, no Chad, and no Sharon.

“Chad took Sharon to the roulette tables- I thought I shouldn’t say anything because it was Chad!” Alaska explained, as Willam politely asked her how the fuck she’d managed to lose everyone. Jinkx had apparently gone to the bar to get a glass of water for Sharon.

“How many drinks has she had altogether?!” Willam had exclaimed. Alaska muttered a number with a “teen” on the end. Willam almost threw up.

“Fuck me gently. Right, follow me,” she exhaled noisily, storming through the crowd in the direction of the roulette tables with Courtney and Alaska following after her. In the midst of the madness, Willam whipped her head round and turned to Alaska. “How the fuck was this allowed to happen?!”

“I didn’t want to say anything! Not with Chad there,” Alaska hissed, as Courtney grabbed a champagne flute from a waiter on her way past. Willam had to admire her method of coping. As she scanned the room, her eyes suddenly came to rest on one corner- Sharon laughing and clinging to the arm of a young-looking Asian girl with flowing dark hair, high cheekbones and dressed in a red and black gown that clung to her curves. Willam stopped dead.

“Shit,” Courtney whispered. “That’s Kimora Blac.”

Willam instantly broke out into a cold sweat. Kimora’s face was amused, in the same way someone would watch with amusement as a monkey flung its own faeces around in its zoo enclosure. Swallowing her fear, Willam crossed the room and approached the two.

“Miss Blac, it’s lovely to meet you,” she cut into the conversation, Sharon turning around and beaming a smile at her.

“Willam!” Sharon cried, flinging her arms around her and filling Willam’s nose with the scent of alcohol. “Kimora, this is Willam, one of my lovely advisors. Me and Willam used to go to university together, we were the best of friends!”

Willam cringed and attempted to peel her boss off of her shoulders. Watching Kimora’s amused smirk, she was filled with horror at the thought of what else Sharon had told her in the short time.

“Sorry if Sharon’s said anything to offend you, Miss Blac,” Alaska cut in, her voice apologetic. Kimora simply laughed, waving her hands dismissively.

“Are you kidding? She’s great. I love her. Sharon’s said I can write an article about her,” she smiled sweetly, Willam honestly unable to tell if Kimora had sinister or good intentions. Fuck being drunk.

“It’s going to be GREAT. I’m going to be a STAR,” Sharon smiled, turning to cling to the young journalist once again. Instead, Alaska diverted her into her own arms, Sharon flopping over slightly as if she was a human slinky.

“Well, it’s been lovely meeting you Miss Blac but you know what it’s like at these events. Lots of people to see!” Willam smiled through gritted teeth, wanting to grab one of the silver drinks trays from a passing waiter and just knock Sharon unconscious with it. Then again, if Willam thought about it, the state Sharon was in really wasn’t that far off unconsciousness. Kimora nodded, understanding. Or fake understanding. Willam couldn’t tell which. Fuck, it was so inconvenient being drunk at this point in time.

“Of course! I get it. I’ll maybe head to the auction, see if I can get someone cute to win me something cuter,” Kimora smiled, Willam suddenly genuinely worried for whichever man she decided to latch herself onto. “Bye, Sharon! It was so lovely to meet you!”

The three didn’t even wait to see which direction Kimora walked away in before they whisked Sharon off back to the booths. The entire way back Sharon was rambling on about roulette, and Buzzfeed, and some vase she wanted to win at the auction.

“You’re not going anywhere near that auction, so you can shut that idea down right now,” Willam scolded her, suddenly feeling more like a mother than ever. Finally reaching the booths and practically fainting into her seat, Willam allowed herself a deep sigh of relief at the fact that they had Sharon back under control, even if she was currently behaving like a toddler stuck in the body of a grown woman.

“I need a drink after that,” Courtney said, completely deadpan. Alaska and Sharon looked at each other, then burst out laughing. Willam rolled her eyes, but secretly found Courtney’s quip just a little bit funny.

“I’m going to find Jinkx. Think she’ll probably still be at the bar judging by the queue,” Willam sighed, thinking that if she could just glug down a couple of glasses of water then perhaps she’d be able to sober up a little.

Elbowing her way to the front of the huge crowd in front of the bar, Willam was soon able to find Jinkx standing right at the front of the bar, the bored look on her face indicating that she still hadn’t been served.

“This is like a fucking zombie apocalypse,” Willam said by way of a greeting as she finally reached her colleague. Jinkx rolled her eyes and gestured in front of her.

“Fifteen bloody minutes I’ve been standing here, and nobody’s even acknowledged me. This is exactly why I never go to bars,” she sighed bitterly, ending her sentence with a pointed look at one of only two bartenders who rushed past her.

Willam indulged Jinkx in a small laugh. Thinking about it, she’d never really gelled much with the senior press officer, and she supposed that this was the first time they’d ever had a conversation just the two of them. She supposed there must have been a reason why she and Alaska got on so well. No sooner could she think any more about it than a bartender approached her.

“What’ll it be, ma’am?”

Willam looked at Jinkx in disbelief, who started laughing incredulously. “Excuse me, dickhead?! My friend has been standing here for over fifteen minutes and not even got a second glance, but as soon as a cute blonde strolls up she instantly gets attention?”

The bartender looked suitably shamed as Jinkx’s laughter continued. Willam bristled as she asked him for a jug of tap water and five glasses.

“Sorry about that idiot, Jinkx,” Willam rolled her eyes, receiving a shrug from the latter.

“Willam, it’s okay. I am perfectly at peace with this MILF aesthetic I’ve managed to cultivate. I’m just glad you showed up when you did or I’d probably have returned to you all having aged about 50 years.”

Laughing, Willam looked fondly at her co-worker. “You know, we’ve never really spent time together before but you’re a really cool person, Jinkx.”

Jinkx raised a single eyebrow.

“Don’t even start with the emotional drunk chat, you big…” she seemed to struggle for an insult for a while until she looked across at some man’s martini glass. “…olive.”

As Willam laughed, she became aware of a commotion behind her. Turning around, she saw Bianca elbowing through the crowds, stopping when she saw Jinkx and Willam.

“Christ, what does a lady have to do to get a drink around here, shag a bottle of wine?!” she greeted them, causing Jinkx to wince a little in distaste. As the bartender thudded a jug and five glasses down in front of the distracted Willam, Bianca gave her a concerned look. “What’s with all the water? Are you a fucking fish?”

“No, it’s just for…um. Well, Sharon could use some, put it that way,” Willam shrugged, turning to leave. Bianca stopped her in her tracks.

“Is Sharon fucked? Don’t tell me she’s fucked or I’ll kill you.”

Willam pulled a pained expression. “You’re not really selling it to me, Bianca.”

Bianca’s face darkened. “This isn’t the time for jokes, this is fucking serious! How many people has she spoken to in her state?!”

Willam looked to the floor. “Kimora Blac, Chad Michaels-”

“CHAD FUCKING-” Bianca yelled in disbelief, then realised she’d drawn them some attention and lowered her voice. “Chad Michaels?! She might as well have just vomited on the PM’s shoes! What the fuck must Chad have thought?!”

“In Sharon’s defence, Bianca, Chad was pretty merry herself and seemed quite happy to chat away to her,” Jinkx spoke up, calmly pouring herself a glass of water. Bianca snorted derisively.

“Christmas is merry, Jinkx. Merry and fucked are at two opposite ends of the fucking scale,” Bianca hissed at her. Just then, Bianca’s elbow was suddenly jolted by a young Asian woman stepping in front of her. Willam recognised her as Gia Gunn, one of the journalists from the Daily Mail.

“Um, Gia? There’s a queue here. I’m fucking parched,” Bianca snapped at her. It was no secret that the two had bad blood from way before the days of Darienne, but Willam had never known or indeed asked where it had stemmed from. Gia turned and gave Bianca a placid smile.

“Oh, hello Bianca. Wish I could say it was a pleasure to see you,” she raised her eyebrows and flipped some of her long, straight dark hair over her shoulder.

“Well it’d be a pleasure to see you fucking dead, but here we are,” Bianca snapped, Willam a little taken aback at just how little time she had for the journalist. Gia simply shrugged at her in response.

“I’d have thought you would have had a lot of running about to do instead of just standing there hurling insults at me, Bianca.”

Bianca screwed her face up. “Running about, what, what the fuck does that mean? I work for the government, not the fucking Olympics.”

Gia blinked once at her as if she was talking to a toddler. “Well, I just thought that since Phi Phi is announcing this new policy that she’ll be trying to get enforced tomorrow, you’d be a little worried.”

Bianca stopped, looking once at Willam and Jinkx. Willam felt as if she was frozen solid. So Phi Phi hadn’t been bluffing- and there was something they clearly didn’t know about. Bianca’s face was grave. Gia gave a little laugh.

“Gosh, Bianca, don’t tell me you’re out of the loop? The privatisation of immigration? I feel like you’d want to brief at least some of your MPs about it.”

Willam felt as if she could crash through the floor at any moment. Her mind was racing, and so many thoughts were colliding with each other that she wasn’t really sure what to think first. She looked to Jinkx in a panic, but she was just standing looking at Bianca, who was looking at Gia blankly. Gia looked slightly freaked out by the reaction.

“No, no…she’s not announcing that. She can’t be announcing that. Who told you this?” Bianca finally said, shaking her head. Willam could see her pulse throbbing at her neck, and with a sinking heart she could already tell that the night was about to take another turn for the worst.

Gia sighed and inspected her nails. “We got told by Roberta from the opposition press office that Phi Phi was calling a press conference tomorrow, and this is what it would be about.”

Bianca stood still for a few seconds then suddenly grabbed hold of Willam and Jinkx’s arms and wrenched them through the crowd at the bar, Bianca’s movements being fuelled by what seemed to be pure rage. Once free from the crowd, she stood Jinkx and Willam in front of them and leaned in close.

“How the fuck did I not know about this. One of you start talking.”

“We had no idea that the opposition even knew about this, Bianca. We’re as shocked as you are,” Jinkx said quickly, her face somewhat blanched.

“I’m shocked?! The opposition have got hold of the Prime Minister’s fucking legacy and are announcing it tomorrow, and I’m shocked?! I’m not shocked, I’m fucking livid!” Bianca said, in a voice that only just fell below speaking volume. It was the sort of pitch that made your blood run cold, the tone of voice that Willam imagined a killer would speak in.

“Bianca none of us have any idea about how it got out! None of us have said a thing to anyone!” Willam insisted, determined for Bianca’s flamethrower of anger to be directed away from her. Bianca stood still, her brow completely furrowed. Then suddenly she seemed to have a moment of realisation.

“Sharon.”

Willam’s eyes grew wide. “No. No, no, no, no, no.”

“Well who the fuck else could it be?! You both heard her this morning, she said herself she’d do anything for it not to go ahead!” Bianca yelled, this time not caring about the glances she drew. “Where is she?”

Willam sighed and pointed to the corner booth. “She’s in that booth, but Bianca-”

Bianca stood for a second, seemingly to gather her thoughts. She looked at Willam, then at Jinkx, then at Willam again, attempting to try and make some sense of the situation. Turning her attention back to Jinkx, she finally spoke.

“You are fucking useless to me,” she told her, before grabbing Willam once more and storming over to Sharon’s table. Willam could hear Courtney drunkenly babbling before they even arrived. As they approached her table, Bianca cut Courtney off.

“Hey. Human halogen lightbulb. Was it you?” Bianca asked Sharon, her gaze like a knife through Sharon’s unsuspecting, drunk gaze.

“Bianca…what? Was what me?”

Bianca swallowed very deliberately, her anger appearing to simmer under her skin. “I know that you gave the opposition the PM’s legacy. Now…tell me you did it.”

Sharon’s jaw dropped open, clearly completely confused. Willam couldn’t think of a worse time to confront her.

“Bianca, I really don’t-”

“Answer the damn question! Was it you?!” Bianca kept her voice low but sinister, leaving Sharon just as confused as before.

“I never…I never told the opposition anything, I don’t understand what’s going-”

Bianca leant on the table with her hands, leaning into the three girls at the table whose faces were all as frightened and shocked as Willam’s must have been. “What’s going on is that the opposition have the Prime Minister’s legacy. They’ve stolen it, somehow, and Phi Phi is announcing it as a policy for her party tomorrow at a press conference.”

Sharon’s face went whiter than it usually was. “That’s impossible, they can’t know about that.”

“Don’t play this card with me, Sharon, you’ve leaked this to them and that’s the whole reason we’re in this mess!”

“How dare you? How dare you accuse me of something I’ve not done?” Sharon half-slurred, half-shouted, rising from her seat a little until Alaska put a hand on her thigh and pushed her back down. “I fight things I oppose with words, Bianca, you of all people should know that!”

“Oh yeah, in this case the words used were clearly, ‘Here Phi Phi, take this policy that I fucking hate and don’t want to have to support’!”

Willam tuned out of the argument, her mind too full to focus on anything. She didn’t believe Sharon had anything to do with the leak at all, but she really struggled to think of who else it could have been. The only people who would know where it came from would be members of the opposition, and the only currency their party could use with them was really either bribery or blackmail. Willam found herself glazing over as she scanned the bar. All of a sudden, her eyes snapped back into focus as she caught a glimpse of a blue and green patterned gown and a flash of pink gripping each other’s hands tightly and disappearing through a door just off to the side of the bar. Willam’s mind raced until suddenly all thoughts collided at once. It seemed pretty clear to her what was happening, and she hoped to God she was right and that it wasn’t just the alcohol that was clouding her mind.

“Guys,” Willam cut in, making sure her voice was able to soar over Bianca and Sharon’s argument without being overly loud. “I think I’ve got an idea. Just…wait. And try not to kill each other while I’m gone.”

Without waiting to hear or see any of their reactions, Willam sped off in the direction she’d seen the two girls head towards. The alcohol was making her feel funny, as if she was able to walk a lot faster than she would be able to normally. Crowds seemed to part for her as she headed to the small door to one side of the bar, her heels clicking erratically against the marble floor. She stopped when she reached the heavy wooden door the girls had gone through. A small, brass sign read “Employees Only”. Well, that was clearly bullshit.

Pressing her ear against the door, Willam waited, reaching into her clutch bag and pulling out her phone as she did so, swiping onto her camera and making sure it was set up perfectly. Behind the door she could hear muffled sounds, then a sort of raised moan. Willam took that as her starting pistol and barged through the door, keeping her finger held on the shutter to take a burst shot.

She couldn’t have failed to get the photos she’d wanted. Standing just at the side of a small pantry were just the two people she’d expected. Detox was pressed against the wall, now completely flat against it in shock, whilst Roxxxy, who had previously been pressing against Detox and kissing her neck, had suddenly jumped away. The only evidence that they’d done anything was Roxxxy’s smeared lipstick, a flush of pink against Detox’s neck, and their crumpled gowns. It was, admittedly, pretty damning evidence, but not as damning as the photos Willam currently had on her phone.

“Willam, what…what the fuck?” Roxxxy spoke first, backing away from Detox that little bit more. Her tone was intended to be threatening, Willam could tell that, but instead all that came out was pure fear. Detox was completely paralysed and had turned white as a sheet.

Willam had frightened them both.

“Listen, I don’t want any trouble. Well, not a massive amount,” Willam began coolly, trying to disconnect herself from the whole situation. “I don’t know the whole story, clearly, but it’s obvious that you two are trying to keep whatever this whole thing is on the down low. Bringing a fake date, sneaking off here…I get it. So I’m not going to tell Phi Phi, or Bianca, or the media, about whatever you two are trying to cover up.”

Willam left a deliberate pause. She’d expected some sort of reply from one of the two girls in front of her, but neither one of them spoke. As Willam saw Roxxxy’s hand shaking, she tried to ignore the feeling of guilt that twisted her stomach.

“As long as you tell me everything you know about the new policy your party is dropping tomorrow,” she finished. Detox finally moved, bringing both hands to her cheeks and dragging them down.

“Willam, I swear, we had nothing to do with it,” Roxxxy said, her voice shaking.

“You’re Phi Phi’s damn advisors, how the fuck could you have no involvement in it?” Willam scoffed, suddenly resentful of Roxxxy’s ignorance.

“It’s true, Willam,” Detox stammered, staring straight at a spot on the floor, now back to standing like a statue. “Phi Phi floated the idea of the policy this afternoon and told us Bob had been contacted with it from someone senior within the party. It had come from a party think tank that had taken place earlier in the day. I swear, Willam, that’s all we know.”

Willam stood for a second and tried to gather her thoughts. None of this seemed to make sense.

“You’re lying,” Willam said bluntly. She didn’t actually think they were, but she hoped it would maybe get a little bit more information from them. What she didn’t expect was Roxxxy’s breathing becoming shallower. She took two quick steps forward as if she was about to take Willam’s hand, but she didn’t. Instead, she stopped.

“Willam, pl…please,” Roxxxy began. Willam could swear she saw tears in her eyes. “We’re telling the truth. We’ll even help you find out anything else. Just, please…don’t. Don’t tell anyone.”

Willam felt a little at a loss. Blackmail and intimidation was a lot less fun as Bianca made it seem. Roxxxy was still standing in front of her, her face pleading, whereas Detox was still against the wall, looking broken. She felt the shame rip at her stomach a little.

“Detox’s Dad, he’d-” Roxxxy began, before she was cut off suddenly by a choked sort of cry from Detox, indicating that she’d perhaps said too much. Looking at the two desperate girls in front of her, Willam heaved a sigh.

“I won’t send the pictures to anyone,” Willam said, Roxxxy letting out a huge breath she’d clearly been holding. “But you guys need to make sure this announcement doesn’t happen. Or if it does, that it’s not concerning this policy. Your whole party needs to forget this policy, right?”

“That’s impos-”

“We’ll make it happen, Willam. Don’t worry. Just don’t…don’t do anything with those pictures. Please,” Detox interrupted Roxxxy, her face still ashen but her body language not as bereft of hope as it had been.

Willam awkwardly shuffled on the spot and replaced her phone in her clutch bag. “Well then. Yeah. Make it happen.”

With that, she turned and left the small pantry, walking back to the booth much slower than she had been earlier, with a lot less adrenalin powering her on. The last few minutes had left a sour taste in her mouth. She couldn’t shake the image of Roxxxy’s shaking hands and voice, and Detox’s ashen face as if she’d been informed of a death. Willam, after all, knew all too well the crippling fear of not yet being out, the fear of judgement or rejection. Absent-mindedly getting her phone back out and unlocking it, the first picture that came up was the picture of Detox and Roxxxy kissing, Willam having not exited out of it before. Looking at it again, she noticed how Roxxxy had an arm around Detox’s waist, almost protectively, and where she had Detox pinned against the wall she hadn’t been grabbing her wrist but holding her hand. Willam began to feel she’d made a mistake.

But looking over at the booth as she approached it, she saw Bianca sitting with a face like thunder, glaring at Sharon who was now visibly upset. If she squinted she could see Alaska holding her hand under the table. Courtney looked sheepish and was drinking from another flute of champagne, and Jinkx had managed to find them all and was texting somebody, presumably trying to get intel on the whole mess. Suddenly remembering how horrible Detox and Roxxxy had been to Alaska, what they’d said about her and the rumours they’d made up, Willam felt a flame under her heart. It wasn’t her damn fault that Detox and Roxxxy couldn’t be more careful with their relationship, or whatever the fuck it was that they were doing. They both knew how this worked, and Willam was certain that if one of them had caught Sharon and Alaska together they would have undoubtedly used it for their own personal gain. They belonged to Phi Phi O’Hara’s party and that party was sly, underhand and played dirty. Why the fuck should Willam be the one to show mercy all of a sudden?

Confidence reinstated that she was doing the right thing, Willam walked briskly over to the booth. All five heads shot up to look at her. Willam felt suddenly tired.

“They won’t announce tomorrow. Their press conference might still go ahead but I’ve been told that it won’t be about the legacy. Just…don’t ask me how I did it.”

Courtney beamed up at her, the rest of the faces at the table simply relieved. Bianca decided to ignore her last sentence.

“Who the fuck told you this? What did they say?”

Willam went to rub her eyes, then remembered the heavy eyeliner she’d applied hours earlier. “Phi Phi’s advisors. They said that they didn’t have a clue about how Phi got hold of the policy, only that it had come from a party think tank and had been gifted to them. Something weird is going on, but I don’t think it involves Detox and Roxxxy. I think it’s deeper than that, and it could get nasty.”

Bianca sighed, rubbing at her face as she stood and left the booth.

“Well, that’s my night over. I need to get home and try to get to the bottom of this fucking mess. Sharon,” she snapped, the wearied Minister lifting her head to face her. “I want to speak to you on Monday about this. The opposition found out somehow, and until I find someone to blame otherwise, I’m holding you entirely responsible.”

As Sharon gave a single weary nod of resignation, Bianca left the five with a heavy sigh. Willam could’ve sighed too. All clearly wasn’t well, and there was something sinister going on, but at least whatever disaster that could have occurred within the next 24 hours had been prevented. Flopping down onto the seat beside Courtney, she felt a little shocked as Courtney’s arm slid around her waist.

“You’re honestly so fucking good at everything, Will,” she slurred, giving her an unexpected kiss on the cheek.

After everything that had happened in the past hour, Willam felt as if this was the thing that would kill her.

“Yeah, thanks Willam,” Sharon said without much enthusiasm. “Okay guys, I think I’ll maybe just head home.”

Willam made a face. She didn’t want Sharon’s night to be ruined by what had happened. “Come on, Sharon, you’ve got to stay. Just…have fun. I don’t care anymore, see, I’ve not got my bossy political advisor hat on anymore. In all honesty I’ve been fucked for a good couple of hours now. Go bid on the bollocking vase, go on.”

Sharon seemed as if she wasn’t able to hold back a small smile. She looked at Alaska, seemingly seeking approval.

“Do you want to stay?” she asked her, Willam hoping that Jinkx wouldn’t catch on to the implication and knowing that Courtney was too drunk to care. Alaska smiled and nodded at her girlfriend, and this seemed to be all the affirmation Sharon needed.

“Okay, fuck yes. Let’s get me another champagne and win me a fucking vase,” she slapped the table, making to leave the booth. As Willam turned to get up, Courtney threw another arm over her, stopping her from leaving.

“I want to get cheesy chips,” she whined, Willam laughing at the obvious drunk munchies that were taking hold. “Can we go get cheesy chips?”

Willam blinked at Courtney, her face hopeful and expectant. She could have made some sarcastic comment about the vegan properties of chips and cheese, but something about Courtney’s expression made her decide against it. “Sure. Let’s go.”

Opening her mouth, Willam made to ask the others if they wanted to come. “Guys, do you-”

“Nooooo,” Courtney immediately placed a single finger over Willam’s lips, messily shushing her. “Just us. On our own.”

Willam thought her heart was about to break her ribcage with the intensity with which it was thudding. She turned to look at Courtney again. Had her pupils always been blown like that?

“Okay,” Willam said, grabbing her clutch bag from the table. As Alaska and Sharon drifted away, Jinkx got up decisively.

“Well, that’s me for the evening. I’m going home to shove on Midsomer Murders and eat that last chocolate éclair I’ve got in my fridge,” she smiled wryly at Willam, then lowered her voice as she looked pointedly at Courtney. “For God’s sake, make sure she gets home okay.”

As Jinkx wandered off, Courtney threaded her arm through Willam’s and took her hand, squeezing it a couple of times.

All she had to do was find a chippy near Park Lane and get Courtney home to bed. Willam concluded that the evening couldn’t get much more chaotic if it had been a series of tasks set by God.

***

Willam trudged over the doorway of Courtney’s flat as Courtney herself crashed through the door. She was completely exhausted. After quickly establishing that they wouldn’t find a chippy anywhere near Park Lane, Willam had hailed them a cab, then hailed two more after the first wouldn’t take Courtney anywhere in case she vomited all over the taxi floor. But as the old saying goes, it was third time lucky, and after a solid 15 minutes of Willam trying desperately to flag down a taxi and Courtney whining about how hungry she was and how sore her feet were, they managed to get a taxi back to Brixton. There, they’d stopped off on Coldharbour Lane and finally managed to track down a place where they could buy cheesy chips, Courtney discarding her heels underneath her arm and eating them on the short walk back to her flat. Willam did have to listen to her moan about the fact that these weren’t proper cheesy chips, and that proper cheesy chips were made with fat chips swimming in grease, with layered cheese.

Willam had looked at Courtney affectionately for the millionth time on the walk home, her heart feeling like it was about to burst. “Court, how the fuck are they expected to layer the cheese?”

Courtney had spoken through a mouthful of masticated chips and cheese as she spoke, putting huge emphasis on certain words every so often in the way that drunk people often do. “No! It’s actually very easy. They put one layer of chips on one side of the carton and chips on the other side of the carton, then put cheese on the top of one of the sides, close the carton over, open it up again, put the cheese on top…boom. Layered cheese. Giuliano’s does it.”

Willam had been spending the entire journey back to Courtney’s flat feeling like she was on the verge of a heart attack, if she was totally honest. That sort of electric, magical feeling was back in the air as snow clouds hung heavy in the dark sky and gave the streetlamp-orange glowing streets a sort of buzz. She felt happy just being together with Courtney, being silly and drunk and spending time with her without really doing anything at all. For a moment, Willam felt that maybe this was all she needed- just to be around Courtney. She was still happy with her, and not admitting her feelings to her only saved from any potential heartbreak, rejection and embarrassment. Maybe Willam could live with just being friends.

And then Courtney had threaded her arm through Willam’s again, her body warm beside her, and Willam had thought maybe not.

Now that they were back at Courtney’s flat, Willam felt that all too nervous feeling creep over her again, like a tidal wave waiting to crash against the shore. As Courtney dumped her heels on the ground and the empty styrofoam carton on her hall table, Willam lingered at the doorway.

“Okay, well. I should probably get home.”

Courtney turned and pouted, looking like a lost puppy. “No, Will! You need to stay and make sure I don’t choke on my own tongue in my sleep.”

Willam snorted a laugh. “That’s not a thing, Court.”

“It is so! Well…it might be choking on vomit. Vomit or tongue. Can’t remember.”

“Two really attractive words.”

“You’re an attractive word,” Courtney said, leaning against the doorframe of her bedroom and threatening to flop over. “Please? Just…look after me a bit more?”

Willam sighed, her hand still on the handle of Courtney’s front door.

If God doesn’t hate gay people then he’s certainly got a personal fucking vendetta against me.

“Fine,” Willam threw her hands up, kicking her heels off and making her way down the hall to where Courtney stood. Her face lighting up in delight, Courtney took Willam’s hand, shuffling into her bedroom and not bothering to turn the lights on. Willam attempted to scan her surroundings in the darkness. A double bed sat taking up most of the space in the room, while a set of wardrobes (possibly mirrored) and a chest of drawers sat opposite it. There was a big bookcase to one side of the bed, and a bedside table and a window on the other. Clothes lay carpeting the floor.

Courtney still didn’t let go of Willam’s hand when she fell down onto the bed, pulling Willam down with her. She landed with the breath knocked out of her slightly, laying half on top of her, half at her side. Courtney naturally thought this was the funniest thing in the world. Willam tried to clamber off her but wasn’t completely successful, as Courtney threw both her arms round her waist. The action stopped Willam dead for a second. Looking down at Courtney, she could see that her eyes were slightly glazed and she still had a big, goofy smile on her face. Time seemed to stand still, the only thing moving being Willam’s pulse racing under her skin.

“You’re so great, Willam,” Courtney sighed, looking up at her and smiling. Willam didn’t really know what to reply.

“You’re great,” she ended up saying, trying once again to roll onto her side but Courtney’s arms wouldn’t let her, and dear Christ, how had she found herself in this position?

Courtney seemed to pause for a second, the smile still on her face as she somehow pulled Willam closer to her. “No, honestly. You’re so great.”

And then Willam completely froze as Courtney pushed up a little bit and kissed her once, her lips a little messy against Willam’s own. Pulling away, the smile was back on Courtney’s face, giggling as she looked at Willam’s clearly shocked face. Willam’s mind was just blank. She had no idea what the fuck was going on, and her nerves were now in overdrive as she realised she didn’t know what to say or do. Still smiling like an idiot, Courtney solved the problem by pulling Willam down on top of her and meeting her lips again, this time lingering a little bit more, and with all of the air being knocked out of Willam’s lungs she realised that they were actually, properly kissing. Still completely confused as to whatever this was, Willam pulled away.

“Court,” she whispered, although she wasn’t really sure why. “Don’t do this because you’re drunk.”

“No, I’m doing this because I want to. The fact I’m drunk is just a happy coincidence,” she slurred, her arms still firmly around Willam’s waist. Then, her eyes suddenly became wide. “How come, do you want to stop?”

Willam took one look at Courtney’s beautiful, shocked face and finally registered that what was happening was actually happening, and she wasn’t dreaming it, and it wasn’t a mistake. “Fuck no.”

With that, Courtney crashed their lips together again and they were kissing again, slow and deep and everything that Willam had wanted for the longest time. Courtney tasted almost entirely of champagne, and Willam could still smell her perfume from earlier, and it only made her kiss her deeper, moving a hand up to tangle in Courtney’s blonde curls. Her heart was beating so fast and their bodies were pressed so close together that Willam was sure Courtney would feel how fast her heart was racing. Hearing Courtney sigh a little against her lips, Willam felt as if she was stuck in an alternate reality.

This couldn’t be happening. And yet, it was.

They could have been kissing for hours or minutes, or perhaps seconds. Time had become an alien concept to Willam. But the first sign of change was Courtney pushing her hips up an inch from the bed, moaning a little and trailing a hand up Willam’s thigh. With every iota of willpower that she possessed, Willam pulled away from Courtney and sat up, straddling her.

“Court, you’re drunk, girl.”

Courtney pouted, bringing one hand up to cup Willam’s jaw. “Yeah, but so are you.”

Now that Courtney pointed it out, Willam noticed that the amount of adrenaline that was currently running through her veins had rendered her almost completely sober. “I think it’s kind of wearing off a bit. Come on, I’m not doing anything with you when you’re in this state.”

“But I want to,” Courtney sighed, stroking Willam’s cheek. Willam smiled lazily at her.

“Not tonight, girl,” she said, not without a hint of regret.

“Well, next time then,” Courtney said contentedly, smiling up at her. Willam’s heart almost flipped over. She hadn’t really thought to think past this moment, but now she was wondering what the future held in regards to whatever this was. Trying to push the future out of her mind, she just smiled back at Courtney, touching her cheek before rolling off of her and on to the other side of the bed.

��Well, I’ll be going, then-”

Courtney shot her a glare. “Willam! Come on, you have to stay. I want to kiss you again when I wake up and I’m sober.”

Willam felt faint at the sheer amount of events that had happened over the course of the evening. She hesitated for a second as she thought her options over, then decided that she’d been responsible enough for one evening and that perhaps she was entitled to one poor decision.

“Okay. I’ll stay,” she paused. “Have you got pyjamas?”

Courtney leaned over to her bedside table, reaching into a drawer and pulling out two colossal t-shirts. Willam grabbed one gratefully and began to pull the zip down at the back of her dress. She tried not to look as Courtney got changed. The night had given her enough heart murmurs for one evening.

Leaving herself in just her underwear, she pulled the huge shirt over her head and climbed into bed with the other blonde. Turning on her side, she was surprised that Courtney shuffled back into her arms, reaching behind and wrapping them around her so that Willam held her in a cuddle.

Sighing and still trying to comprehend the way the night had progressed, Willam suddenly heard a little gasp from Courtney.

“Willam,” she pointed to the window. “Snow.”

Willam gave Courtney a little squeeze and watched as the gentle white flakes drifted from the sky, making to envelop the city in white and make it seem as if it was new.

They watched the snow fall until they fell asleep.

#ortega #just the game we're in #witney #shalaska #au #group #willam belli #courtney act #sharon needles #alaska thunderfuck #bianca del rio #rpdr fanfiction #submission #jtgwi #lesbian au #british au

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mdwatchestv · 7 years

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The Walking Dead 7x09: Return of Tiger

It's baaaaaacckkkk!

As I pressed play on the midseason premiere of The Walking Dead I thought "ugh did I even miss this show?", ten minutes after that I was crying because Maggie became the first female president of Hilltop. This is a both a reflection on my own emotional unbalance as well as my tumultuous relationship with our favorite zombie program.

Let's be honest, this season has been rough. A season that began with over-the-top brutality against a beloved character, and then devolved into morose wheel-spinning for the next half a dozen episodes is not what I would describe as 'entertainment'. The Walking Dead almost seemed to revel in its own misery, dedicating overlong episodes to torturing Daryl and finding new excruciating ways to break down Rick into little bits and pieces. It made me question as a viewer what responsibility (if any) a show has to be actually enjoyable. That isn't to say that a show can't explore themes or storylines that may make the audience uncomfortable, but TWD's series of unfortunate events combined with a stagnant, unmoving plot (see Tara's ship-in-a-bottle episode) was starting to become unbearable. The producers publicly proclaiming and then denying that the show's graphic violence had gone too far and needed to be scaled back, was also not particularly comforting. At the very least, it suggests the creative forces are not on the same page regarding the tone and direction of the show. Sadly, behind the scenes infighting is usually not conducive to thoughtful storytelling.

I straight up thought he walked into a shelf

However, there was a bright spot of light in the first half of the season and that was the episode two introduction of The Kingdom, and, more importantly, THE TIGER! The zombie genre is so popular because at the end of the day it's a FUN genre. Fantasizing about surviving a zombie apocalypse is FUN, ridiculous zombie-death sight gags are FUN, tigers are FUN (and majestic, beautiful animals). Watching a grown man brought to bitter emasculated tears over, and over, and over again = not fun. Thankfully in the mid season finale, Rick snapped the fuck out of whatever depression haze he was in, and decided to resume the plot.

In my post about the mid season finale (if you want to read it again, and why wouldn't you, click here), I hoped that the story would continue to progress and that there would be more tiger. And guess what! THERE. WAS. MORE. TIGER!!!!! Also more King Ezekial! And more Jerry!

Hi Jesus!!!

Sure, it was a little convenient that Jesus suddenly announced his knowledge of King Ezekial and the Kingdom (Me: How does Jesus even know him?? Boyfriend (duh voice): Jesus knows EVERYbody). Jesus rolls deep, even grumpy cat Richard is down with the J-Man.

Hi Jerry!!!

However, despite Rick's very convenient parable about the rock in the road (he had to have just made that up right?), King Ezekial refuses to participate in the uprising against Negan (rude). He does however agree to hide Daryl from the Saviors, a decision which will almost certainly end badly. Sidebar: Can we also briefly discuss the weird lie Morgan told Daryl about not knowing where Carol was? Like, she lives right down the street...she frequently shows up in the surrounding wilderness. You go visit her like every day Morgan. Anyway, whatever. Here is what I think is going to happen- the Saviors show up at the Kingdom, it goes bad, either a) Richard or b) teen boy are killed and then Ezekial realizes he has no choice but to take up arms and join Rick. I can only hope the tiger is not harmed in any way.

Moving on, this little Death Race sequence on the highway was AWESOME. THIS is why people love zombies movies! Mowing down a herd of zombies with a metal cable between two cars is dope as hell. Thank you for that. However, my blood soon ran cold when Michonne whispered "We're the ones who live" into Rick's ear. Do not be saying shit like that Michonne! What is wrong with you! Know what show you're on!

Anyway, let's talk about stupid Gabriel. At the beginning of the episode we see him peacing out of Alexandria after looting a great deal of food and supplies. After discovering this deception, the group is torn over whether Gabe has ditched them, or has some sort of greater mystery plan (not sure what that could even be tbh). Honestly, I am tired of giving this guy the benefit of the doubt, let us not forget he doomed his entire congregation to death and then tattled on Rick's craziness to Deanna. How many second chances does one guy deserve? He does leave a very unsubtle clue in ye old inventory composition book, which leads the group to the previously visited Loch Zombie where they come across...wait for it..... ANOTHER NEW group! Has Gabriel been bringing supplies to this group in an attempt to court them? Are these the people whose mysterious shoes we have been seeing? I don't know. All I know is that next week's episode is called 'New Best Friends' and that is EVERYTHING to me.

It’s guy love between two guys....

Overall this episode felt very different than its seasonal predecessors. While there was a suitable amount of peril and danger, the tone was light, hopeful even, and for once I did not feel like I was being punished for watching it. The mere fact the episode ended on Rick’s knowing smile rather than another one of his patented twisted grimaces gives me hope for the future.

More of the same please!

XO MD

PS If I hear one more weird sexual thing said about Lucille I am going to FREAK OUT

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twdeadfanfic · 6 years

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Life at the end of the world: Pt.3

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: Slow burn, violence, language.

Author’s note: Third part of my first twd fanfic, I’ve been itching to write something like this for a long while and I write it for fun, I don’t claim to be a writer so if you find you dislike this fic, please be kind and just stop reading. English’s not my first language so maybe there’re some mistakes, I apologize in advance. For the same reason, I can’t write character’s accents and things like that. At any rate, I hope you enjoy it. There’d be several parts to this.

“Anyone needs a lift?”

You asked when you finished gathering your scarce belongings inside your car, trying to sound more cheerful and hopeful than you were feeling. You were bound to leave towards the CDC as soon as everyone was ready.

“Nah I think we’re all settled.” Shane leaned back against your car. “We’re shorter in fuel than in cars.”

Actually, now that you saw all of you ready to get on the move, you realized how many vehicles you had. “We’ll find a gas station on the way.” You weren’t sure if you were trying to convince Shane or yourself.

“The Morales’ family isn’t coming.” Rick approached you, looking stressed.

“What?” It made no sense, they had been with you since the beginning and it was clear it was easier to survive in a group in this new horrible world.

Turned out they wanted to try and find their family, which you totally understood, but you were not very hopeful they’d manage after what you’d seen in the city, after the realization that the world was more full of monsters that you’d believed, creeping even into your tiny camp in the middle of nowhere.

But they were determined to leave the group and try luck on their own, so you all could only say your tearful goodbyes and wish them good luck. Rick and Shane gave them some guns and ammo so at least they could protect themselves, and you elbowed Daryl when he scoffed at it. He glared you but didn’t open his mouth to argue and that was a progress, you guessed.

Halfway through your journey, you had to stop when the RV seemingly broke down, smoke rising from his hood. According to Dale, it did it sometimes, but he’d be able to fix it soon. Things went worse as Jacquie went off the RV announcing Jim was getting worse and worse.

Rick got inside the vehicle to check on him while Dale and Glenn worked on fixing the RV. Even worried as you were, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of them. Since getting to know each other, they had grown close and Glenn seemed to look at Dale as a role model, seeming to respect and care for him. For his side, Dale tended to him and Andrea as if they were family. It was a beautiful relationship that never failed to bring a smile to your face.

Your smile fell when Rick got out of the RV, though, judging by his face he didn’t bear good news.

You didn’t know if it was because Jim was too tired and sick to keep going or because he didn’t want to risk turning and attacking you, he had decided he wanted to be left there. No matter how much Dale said you had to respect Jim wishes, the idea sat uneasily in your stomach. You were abandoning a sick man to be devoured by the monsters to come.

But Jim was resolute and there was no way to change his mind, so you could just watch helplessly as Shane and Rick left him resting against a tree. He even declined the gun Rick offered, seeming to assume his fate calmly. One by one, you said your tearful goodbyes.

“Come on.” Shane squeezed your shoulder in silent comfort, gently pushing you towards the vehicles. “We’ve to keep going.”

You turned your head back and saw that Daryl was the last one saying goodbye to Jim, nodding silently to him and giving him a small smile. For someone who just a day ago was asking to kill him, Daryl seemed quite afflicted.

You found yourself thinking about it while you drove, wondering again if there might be something else to Daryl besides his outburst and harsh ways, if he may be not as insensible and cold as you’d deemed him to be, if maybe he cared about people on his way. You weren’t sure what to make of him and there were other, more urgent things that needed your attention anyway. Like surviving.

When you arrived at the CDC, the sun was already going down with all the risks that it carried. You all moved together, weapons in hand, searching for threats while you headed towards the door of the building.

It was closed, none was answering your calls and the building seemed abandoned. Rick didn’t want to give up, knocking again and again at the doors, shouting at whoever he thought was inside while walkers started showing up. Shane was trying to drag him away, you all needed to move before there were too many walkers but Rick wouldn’t give up, saying he’d seen the camera move, shouting to the imaginary inhabitants that they were killing you.

You were ready to run to the cars, no matter if you had to drag Rick by his hair, the walkers getting too close, when suddenly the doors started opening, bright white light coming from inside, blinding you.

You all rushed inside, running from the walkers approaching you, your weapons still raised in front of you in case there were more threats inside, but you only found a man waiting for you. He was a scientist of the CDC, Dr. Jenner, and you all couldn’t help your relieve when he offered shelter in exchange for letting you run some blood examples.

Everything was a bit strange but still, it was better than the outside.

When you reached the main room you couldn’t help your amazement and curiosity at the complex looking computers that were everywhere and at the big screens of the wall. On top of that, the voice Dr. Jenner had been talking with was actually a robot, and he was all alone in the facility.

It was all still a bit weird but you tried not to let it take you out of your knew hopeful mood.

That night, spirits were high as the group dined in actual food and even enjoyed some drinks, everyone celebrating, laugh and cheers all over the table.

“Keep drinking little man, I want to see how red your face can get,” You heard Daryl saying loudly over the table, already opening a new bottle of wine, and your turned your head to see Glenn with yet another empty glass in front of him, his cheeks bright pink and seeming half intoxicated already.

In the middle of the celebration, you notice Dr. Jenner’s somber mood, distancing himself from your happiness and seeming uncomfortable when you cheered to him after Rick noticed too. Shane seemed to be noticing it too and soon he was interrogating the doctor, questioning him about what happened and where was everyone else.

You could understand where Shane was coming from, you were wondering the same but you noticed how everyone tensed up, the mood darkening, even more when Jenner explained how some of his colleges ran to their families while others decided to ‘opt out’.

Nobody felt like celebrating after that, but the smiles came back to your group’s faces when your host showed you the rest of the facility and you saw you had not only actual rooms but also showers with hot water and everything.

You weren’t sure how long you spent there, just standing under the spray of the shower letting the hot water engulf you before you began to actually wash properly.

On your way back to your room you crossed paths with Lori, who was heading towards the library, and you couldn’t help but admire her washed hair with those beautiful curls falling down her back. Your freshly washed, short hair was spiking everywhere without control and you considered for a moment letting it grow long again, but the memory of the walker grabbing at it was still vivid in your memory, no matter how long ago it was.

Once in your room sleep avoided you and soon you were bored out of your mind, not used to your own company and lack of activity anymore so you decided to take advantage of the library and see if there were any interesting book. Your group had a little haul of books but you’d almost read all of them by now.

You were run almost run over by Shane, who was storming off the library. He seemed out of sorts and his neck was bleeding.

“Shane!” You called after him but he ignored you, striding away.

You walked into the library and found Lori sitting on a table, shaking and crying silently.

“Ey, you okay?” You rushed to her.

“Yeah, yeah...” She said weakly, rubbing her eyes and getting up.

“Did you two have a fight?” Since Rick coming back, things between Lori and Shane had been tense, to say the less.

She nodded but was still shaking and you didn’t know what to make of it. You knew Shane cared for Lori and you would have never thought he’d do something to her, but Lori wouldn’t be like that for a simple fight.

“Lori, what happened?” You questioned softly but she just shook her head.

“I have to go, Rick’s with the doctor and I don’t want Carl to be alone in the room.” With that, she left before you could say anything else.

You got out of the library, anger rising inside you, books forgotten, and headed towards Shane’s room, knocking at the door insistently until he finally opened it.

“What did you do to Lori?” You spat out.

Shane blinked at you, neck still bleeding. He seemed drunk out of his mind and he began closing the door again, but you stepped in so he couldn’t.

“Shane!”

“Leave me the fuck alone, Y/N,” he muttered, trying to close the door again and you had to step back so you wouldn’t be dragged by it.

“I didn’t know you were such an asshole.” You hissed. “Stay away from her!” was the only thing you could yell at him before he closed the door on you.

You huffed and headed down the corridor. You didn’t want to go to the loneliness of your room, sure you couldn’t sleep agitated as you were, so you decided to wander around, snooping at the open rooms although there wasn’t much to see and certainly nothing that could give you more information about what had happened there and out in the world.

You were startled when you found someone in a half-empty room but quickly realized it was Daryl, sitting on the floor and lying against the wall. You were about to leave but you stopped to do a double-take, surprised when you saw him smiling at you. Then you saw the bottle of liquor he had on his hand. That probably explained it.

Intending to borrow some booze, you sat down next to him, reaching out until he passed you the bottle.

“What do you think of this place?” You asked after taking a sip, not caring what the liquor was.

“Strange. Shady. But we have a refuge, food, and booze.” He shrugged.

You took another sip and then let Daryl take back the bottle. None of you said anything for a long while, just passing the liquor back and forth.

“You said you lost your brother in Atlanta too...” Daryl said tentatively after taking a long sip, looking at you and then quickly looking away.

You groaned. That was something you certainly didn’t want to think about. “I’m going to need more booze if you want me to talk about that.”

Daryl raised his eyebrows but passed you the bottle silently.

“So...my mother and my brother lived in Atlanta...” You began. “And you saw how Atlanta was. If they were there, they could very well have ended up being...you know...but I’m hoping they left the city when everything started...” You tried to distance yourself from your feelings so they wouldn’t take a hold of you, but it was hard.

Daryl nodded, reaching out to you to pass him the bottle and taking a sip before talking again. “We found a group of people in Atlanta, alive. So maybe if they didn’t leave they are alive with another group.”

“Yeah...yeah, maybe...” It was hard for you to be hopeful about it, but you appreciated it. Maybe your family had found a group like you’d done... “Merle?” You asked softly.

“He might not be dead either. We didn’t find his body or anything.” Daryl answered, passing the bottle back to you. “He cut off his hand to escape, cauterized it and then left the building.”

“Shit...” You gaped, it was horrible but still, it didn’t surprise you that much coming from Merle.

“Yeah...” Daryl scoffed but you saw his small, sad smile as he thought about his brother and you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. “Toughest son of a bitch I ever knew.”

“I bet.” You chuckled softly and left the bottle on the floor, done with the liquor, you were starting to feel it. Daryl didn’t reach for it either.

“So maybe my brother is in a group or wandering Atlanta like your brother.” He said quietly.

“Maybe...” You whispered, feeling Daryl was as little hopeful as you were.

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Daryl said after a moment of mournful silence.

“Well, it’s not like you and I talk much.” You shrugged awkwardly. Truth be told, none in the group knew it, some knew you had family in Atlanta but nothing specific. You never felt like talking about it.

Daryl just nodded silently and you bit your lip. Thinking about your brother, talking about him...it hurt but it was better than the silence and it had been so long since the last time you knew anything about him, since the last time you talked about him, that he was starting to feel like a dream just real in your memory.

“He’s my half-brother, son of my mother and her husband. More than ten years younger than me, you see...” You explained. “But I haven’t seen him in...I don’t know maybe eight years? I’m not even sure.”

“How’s that?” Daryl asked with genuine curiosity.

“Well, after I left for uni I went back a few times, then I stopped going...then found a job...didn’t have the time... They would never, ever visit me...” You bit your lip unsure about keep talking, but words kept pouring out of your mouth... “Truth is...I love my brother, okay? I do, and I missed him, I talked with him by phone whenever I could. But I never felt like coming back. My stepdad was an asshole, see...”

“So you left your brother.” Daryl had been avoiding your gaze but now his hard blue eyes were fixed on your, glaring down at you. “Left him with his asshole father.”

“It wasn’t like that!” You complained, but he was making you felt super guilty, this was a sensitive matter for you. You had always felt bad about not going to visit him but you just couldn’t bring yourself to deal with your stepfather, and he had made everything he could to show you that you weren’t welcome. You averted Daryl’s gaze but you could feel him judging you, seeming almost mad.

“I didn’t leave him in the wild or anything, he was at home with his parents, and his father wasn’t an asshole to him!” You were upset, who was Daryl to judge you. “Just to me...he was his son after all. But he hated me and I was never welcome there, not even if I wanted...” You weren’t sure why you were excusing yourself to him but you were done. “You know nothing about it anyway...” You murmured bitterly.

“My father was an asshole too.” Daryl murmured quietly, finally looking down and away from you. “My brother left me with him too.”

“Oh...” You didn’t like to be compared to Merle. It wasn’t fair. But you felt Daryl was still affected by it, probably the reason why he had reacted like that to your words, so you said nothing else.

For a moment none of you moved or say anything else, until Daryl reached out for the bottle again, taking another sip.

“Your own father was an asshole too?” He asked, gaze still down.

“I never knew him.” It didn’t hurt, you’d never been able to miss something you’d never had.

Daryl just hummed. “And your mother didn’t want you to come back home?”

You let out a long sigh. “I...I honestly don’t know. I don’t think so, though...” That, on the other hand, hurt so much you felt your heart crying. You missed the love of your mother, you missed how she was before she met that asshole, no matter how you tried to ignore your feelings. “But his husband had a way of turning her against me...always telling lies, convincing her everything was my fault, that I was bad and mean...” You hissed in bitter rage against your stepdad. “I don’t think my mother loved me anymore.” You closed your eyes tight and dug your nails into your palms to stop your tears.

“She’s your mom, she loves you,” Daryl said as if it were a matter of fact.

It was the closest thing to trying to comfort someone you had ever seen Daryl do, just like when he had told you that your brother might be alive in Atlanta, and you smiled gratefully to him.

“I like you more when you’re drunk, Dixon.” You joked, your voice tight with unspilled tears. Still, you felt a bit lighter after having talked about your family after so long, after getting all out, all the guilt and grief out of your system for a bit.

Daryl scoffed but you could see his small smile.

“I’m going to take advantage of that real bed.” You said after a long moment of silence, getting up lazily. The alcohol and the exhaustion, both physical and emotional, beginning to take a toll on you. “Thank you for the booze.”

“Thank the doc.”

________________________________________

Maybe it was thanks to the alcohol, maybe it was having a room and a bed, sleeping unfed a roof inside safe walls, but that night you managed to sleep longer and deeply that you had since the end of the world and you found yourself smiling in good humour as you made your way to the table were most of your group were having a real breakfast.

Glenn was looking like shit, pale and groggy, complaining about how much he drank and seemingly having his worst, probably even first hangover ever. Rick seemed half hungover himself too and you laughed good-hearted at them, having managed to avoid one yourself. You smiled at Daryl, who also seemed unaffected, and he smirked at you before starting to make fun of Glenn.

When Shane arrived he didn’t even look at your group, going directly towards the food and answering evasively at T-Dog when he asked what’d happened to his neck and saying he probably made it himself on his sleep.

“You’d never done anything like that before.” Rick seemed worried about his friend.

“Yeah, it was nothing like me at all,” Shane replied, looking pointedly at Lori.

You hoped whatever had happened between them would never happen again but you glared at Shane for good measure, no matter he seemed regretful.

After breakfast, the doctor finally showed you what’d been going on...kind of. It didn’t look like much to you, never having been a science girl, but you watched with morbid interest the recording of the brain going down while the person died. Then the brain began turning on again but Dr. Jenner pointed out that it only happened to certain areas of the brain and you weren’t sure what it meant, only that you weren’t yourself anymore but a monster driven by the will to devour.

It was some kind of infection, that was all the doctor was able to tell you, having found no cause or cure, not there neither in any of the other researching facilities which, according to Dr. Jenner, were all down. Not only that but the virus had spread everywhere, all around the world without a safe place.

All your worst fears had been confirmed in one go and it hit you like if someone had punched you in the gut. You looked around taking in the faces of your group, the disbelief, the desperation as you last hope died.

“That clock is counting down, what happens when it reaches zero?” Dale asked, pointing at a big digital clock.

“Basement generators run out of fuel.” The doctor replied evasively.

“What happens when the power goes out?” Rick asked loudly to the robot voice when Dr. Jenner refused to say anything else.

The robot said something about decontamination and you didn’t know what that might be but it didn’t sound good, so Rick, Shane, Glenn, and T-Dog rushed down to the basement to investigate.

You didn’t know what to do with yourself, your mood in the lowest point, all hope gone. Daryl had said something about getting drunk so you went looking for him, wanting to take your mind away from your horrible reality. You found him in one of the rooms, sitting on the sofa and sipping from the bottle of liquor.

“Mind sharing?” You flopped down on the opposite side of the sofa, Daryl already passing you the bottle. “Although I’m not sure it’s sensible to get drunk, given our situation...”

“The world’s gone to shit and there’s no way to fix it or any safe place, what’s wrong with getting drunk forever?” Daryl shrugged, taking the bottle back. “Besides I’ve been told I’m more likable when I’m drunk.” He joked quietly, making you snort.

“Indeed.” You weakly teased back before getting somber again. “I guess this place was too beautiful to be true.”

“Yeah...but we still have this place even if there’s nothing else outside anymore.” Daryl offered, you weren’t sure if as a way of comfort.

“You trust that doctor?” You asked him. You certainly didn’t and you were sure you weren’t the only one. There was something off about him and he kept hiding things. You were supposed to be safe there but you felt uneasy.

Considering the look he gave you, Daryl seemed to share your thoughts but he said nothing, taking the bottle back and taking a sip.

“Were you a big drinker before?” Daryl asked after a moment of silence, taking you by surprise.

“What?”

“You’ve drunk way more than the others and you’re not hungover.” Daryl elaborated, making you chuckle.

“First, I’m pretty sure Shane drank more than me.” Your face went dark at the thought of him. “Second, you also drank more than me and neither you are.”

“But I’m used to it, I drank a lot with Merle...” Daryl shrugged. •”That’s why I’m asking.”

It didn’t surprise you to hear that of him and Merle.

“I wasn’t that big of a drinker but maybe it’s just that I’m used to the hard stuff?” You said. “In the village where I lived my best friend used to make her own liquor and that was strong.”

“My dad made his own moonshine,” Daryl told you.

You nodded but your thoughts had wandered to your best friend, memories hitting you.

“I wonder how my friend’s doing...I wonder if she’s still in the village...” You said saddened, trying your best not to cry. “I don’t even know if the village’s still standing or if the walkers took over it...I hope my kids are okay...”

“You had kids?” Daryl blinked at you, seeming surprised.

“What, no! I meant the kids I used to teach, my students.” Your eyes were wet but you couldn’t help your chuckle at Daryl’s surprised face. “I wouldn’t have left my kids alone there, what you think of me.”

“Could be with their daddy or something...” Daryl said defensively.

“Nah, no kids and very single.” You said, laughing quietly to yourself. “It’s not easy to find someone when you’re new to a town where everybody knows each other since forever. I’d been working there for years and I was still the foreigner.”

“My town was like that too,” Daryl said quietly.

“So you had a childhood sweetheart or something like that?” You asked teasingly and Daryl didn’t even reply, just glared at you and you chuckled softly, rising your hands in surrender. “Just asking...”

You stayed silent for a moment until you saw Daryl looking up and frowning.

“What?”

“Air conditioner stopped.” He explained, pointing at it.

“What does that mean?” You asked worriedly, but he just shrugged.

“So you were a teacher?” Daryl asked out of the blue and you were glad for the distraction, your worried mind already having gone through all the worst scenarios for your situation.

“Yeah,” you nodded. ”Got a job fairly quickly after I finished my studies cos I didn’t mind working in the middle of nowhere.” You’d been in desperate need of money to pay your loans, rent and all that. “Now my job is kind of useless...” It hadn’t given you any skill to survive what you were facing.

Daryl just shrugged and you looked at him with curiosity. “What about you?” Considering his skills, you were sure he had to have been doing something that was more useful for this new world than you.

Daryl didn’t reply, just looked away without a word, shifting awkwardly.

Suddenly the lights went off and you jumped, startled. You sensed Daryl move in the dark until he found the handler of the door, pushing it open. You could see the heads of the others popping out of their rooms too.

“What’s going on?” Daryl yelled at the doctor when he walked down the corridor.

“Shutting down anything that’s not a priority,” was Dr. Jenner’s only answer along with something about the building shutting down itself.

You all followed him while he ignored all your questions, reaching the computers rooms. It seemed the place was going to hell so as soon as Rick and the others were back you all rushed to take your things and leave. Before you could do it, though, an alarm started blasting and the doors closed, locking you in.

“Open the door!” Rick demanded but Dr. Jenner said it was electronically closed and couldn’t be closed which you weren’t sure if it could be an excuse or not.

You couldn’t help it, you were panicking, your fear just growing more and more until you felt you couldn’t breath when you caught up with what the doctor was saying. The building was going to destroy itself. It was going to explode with you inside.

You’d never been so scared and you saw the others panicking too, crying and begging to the doctor but he seemed cold, ignoring all your words and panic. Shane and Daryl sprung to action, trying to open the door with axes but it wouldn’t give up.

“These doors are made to stand a rocket launcher.” Was the only comment of Dr. Jenner.

“Your head ain’t!” Daryl ran to the doctor, axe raised but was dragged back by Rick who seemed to still want to dialogue with the doctor, but you could see it was useless, blind to your tears and deaf to your tears and Rick’s words about hope.

You fell down on the floor next to Carol, unable to offer her any comfort as tears fell down your cheeks. You felt helpless and you weren’t surprised when you saw Shane resorting to violence again, threatening to shoot the doctor and shooting wildly at the computers when Rick stopped him.

Rick tried to plea yet once again and it seemed it was for nothing, you had long stopped listening to anything, face hidden on your hands as you huddled with Carol and Sophia, waiting for the worst to happen when suddenly the doctor seemed to finally take pity, opening the doors.

You froze for a second, not really believing it, but then you were rushing out with everyone. You’d already reached the end of the corridor, running behind Daryl when you saw some of the others were backtracking. You went back to find Jacquie had decided to stay there, seeming to have lost all her hope and wanting for all to end quickly. You couldn’t believe it but Andrea seemed to also want the same, Dale deciding to stay with her too.

It was heartbreaking but there wasn’t much time for goodbyes, the clock still tickling down so you all had to rush out only to be stopped by the locked main doors. Nor Daryl’s axe neither Shane’s shotgun could open it and you thought you were lost again until Carol gave Rick a grenade she’d found in one of his shirts and that finally broke the glass.

There were walkers out, heading to you, blocking your way to the cars and you all shoot to them while you ran away from the building and to the cars. You tried but couldn’t run and shoot at the same time, unable to aim properly and you had to stop running in order to shoot at the closer walkers until you felt Daryl pushing you forwards.

“Come on, keep moving!” He yelled at you, bashing his crossbow into the skull of the nearest walker.

You made it into the car in time to see Andrea and Dale running out of the CDC and towards the car too, the building exploding right behind, blinding and deafening you for a moment.

“Everyone okay?” You heard Shane’s voice.

You stumbled out of the car, a bit disoriented but a big smile lighted up your face when you saw Andrea and Dale had made it on time and all you were okay. At least physically.

You didn’t know what could you do now, where you could go, but you’d survived and you were alive and that was more than enough for now.

I hope you liked this chapter.

@momc95 @jodiereedus22 @osweetdevilo @sapphire1727

I never thought anyone’d like to be tag in any of my stories so thank you! It means the world! <3

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon #twd fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl fanfiction #life at the end of the world #lew

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