#i started watching carol & the end of the world earlier but it made me so sad bc I would probably be the same in that situation idk | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tinyhousegirl · 2 years

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Grief

Grief by @allyxstebo

Synopsis: Grief hit them all in different ways. They knew Carole was hurting, Maverick was spiraling. But nobody talked about Ice's quiet plummet into the darkness.

A/N: A short 1.7k drabble about Ice grieving Goose's death. Ice x Mav platonic, mentions of Carole, Bradley, Sarah. Like what you're reading? Buy me a brick!

TW: Major Character Death, mentions of blood, grief

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Goose’s death rocked the world. He left behind a loving wife and a young son. He was just weeks away from graduating from the most prestigious Naval program with his best friend. The aviator would have had his choice of assignment, and had told Maverick he wanted to be closer to Virginia Beach where Carole and Bradley lived. Maverick would have followed him to the end of the world. But then the accident happened, ending his vibrant life abruptly.

Grief hit them all in different ways.

Carole clung to Bradley; the blond boy looked more and more like his father everyday. She made sure their photos of Goose were placed in such ways that Bradley could see them at his short toddler height throughout their home. The flag from the funeral was hung proudly over the mantle. She suppressed tears every time she saw it, but would never ever take it down. She fell asleep most nights clutching his dog tags.

Maverick flew a lot. He started flying as a solo pilot soon after he washed out of the Top Gun instructor program. He found it easier on his conscience to fly when he didn’t have a backseatter to worry about bringing home safely.

Every day the grief became a little easier. Until one night.

Carole called him sobbing about three months after Goose’s death. Bradley had asked ‘who’s that?’ at a picture of Goose and Carole on their wedding day, when he had shaved the iconic mustache, and her heart broke. She didn’t want her baby to forget his father. Maverick had never dropped what he was doing so fast to make it across the country to be with them.

He brought toy planes and photos of their time in the Navy to show to Bradley, and told the little boy about all of their escapades, PG and toned down, of course. Bradley fell asleep cuddling one of the planes, and Maverick held Carole on the couch as they both mourned their loss all over again.

Every day the grief became a little easier. Until one night.

Maverick was laying on the couch in the tiny one bedroom house he bought in San Diego. After a long day of flying, he didn’t have it in him to meet friends at the bar. Instead he dozed off while combing through a book on how to fix up a P-51 Mustang, the beautiful plane he was looking to purchase with his next Navy bonus.

The dark haired aviator was so close to sleep when a heavy pound on the front door echoed in the quiet house. He peered at his watch - almost three in the morning. It was a hot Saturday night, he was sure it was some group of ding dong ditchers making their rounds through his neighborhood again. But the pounding continued.

He begrudgingly stood up and walked to the door, ready to scold whoever decided to disturb a Naval aviator on his weekend. What he didn’t expect to see was Ice, hair tousled, clothes a mess, and barely able to stand on his own two feet on the porch. His eyes were bloodshot and dilated, and Pete could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“Ice? What the hell are you doing here, man?” The blond pilot stumbled forward slightly, Maverick’s quick reflexes being the only thing to stop Ice’s face and the doorframe from making out. “Woah, man. You good?”

“I killed him, Mav.” The voice was quiet yet hardened.

Pete’s eyebrows knit in confusion at the odd confession from his friend. “What the hell are you talking about? Did you fight somebody at the bar?” He had just seen Ice earlier in the day; they had flown most of their training simulations together. He couldn’t have possibly gotten in this much trouble since then?

The taller pilot’s whole body was shaking against Maverick’s steady arms. The breath coming out was even shakier as the pilot shook his head. “No, no, no. I-I killed him. It’s all my fault. I killed him.”

Maverick let out an exasperated sigh. “Ice, you’re making no sense. Who did you kill?”

“Goose.”

Pete’s stomach dropped, the grief flooding his entire system with adrenaline. It was slowly getting easier to breathe day by day, but when the waves of grief came around, it just as easily crushed him under the weight of guilt that loomed in his shadow since July 29th. No amount of Naval documents proving he wasn’t at fault could convince him that Goose didn’t die because of his recklessness. He could never blink away the view of Goose’s lifeless body being pulled up to the helicopter. Couldn’t wash his hand raw enough to get the feeling of his blood off his hands. Couldn’t stop hearing the twenty one gun salute in the quiet of the night, ringing and ringing with the pounding of his chest when the nightmares would come in full force.

Maverick opted not to respond, instead hooking his shoulder under Ice’s arm. He led the stumbling pilot inside to the couch, collecting his clutter of manuals and books onto the coffee table. The dark haired aviator grabbed a glass, filling it with water from the tap. Ice took the cup quietly, chugging it without a thought. The energy in the air wasn’t enough to sober him, and Mav could see the gears still turning slowly in his friend’s eyes.

Mav leaned in, bumping shoulders with him gently. “Talk to me, Ice.”

“It was my fault.” Ice’s voice was barely a whisper, lost to the winds of the ocean air against the siding of the house. “I should have pulled away earlier, given you the shot. I killed him.”

“Ice, you read the reports. You didn’t kill him.” Maverick’s voice came out thick and slow. He tried to suppress the forming lump at the back of his throat, the tunnel vision forming around his head, the burning of his fingertips.

“To hell with what the Navy thinks. It was my jet wash. My mistake.”

Maverick could tell this was eating him up. In the few months that they had been training together, Ice became his closest friend, his confidante. You learned to not have any boundaries in the military. These men became your brothers, thicker than blood, and you’d do anything for them. Goose was his brother. Ice was, too.

“Why is this just now coming up? You went through this shit with me, why wouldn’t you say anything?” It’d been almost a year since the accident. God, a whole year. Ice had stood by Maverick’s side through the worst of it. He had convinced the stubborn aviator to at least try talking to a grief counselor, or a therapist, or the goddamn VA. Someone that could understand why Pete would wake up screaming in the barracks some nights. He went to a few sessions, but it didn’t compare to how therapeutic the skies became for him. Ice had caught him a few times having full conversations with Goose, as if the man was still in his backseat. His head was just so much clearer at 30,000 feet. “Ice-”

“Sarah’s pregnant.” A single tear ran down his cheek, prompting him to wipe it away immediately. “She told me last night.”

“Hey, that’s amazing news. You’ve been trying for a while now, you’re gonna be a dad!” Mav smiled, jabbing his elbow into his friend’s side lightheartedly, trying to get him to smile for the first time all night.

“I orphaned a kid, Maverick.” The admission barely escaped his lips as the sob that followed took over. “I killed his father and I’m just supposed to carry on with my life and be present in my own kid’s life knowing what I did to Bradley? He’s too young. He won’t even remember him.”

“Tom, look at me.” Maverick ordered sternly. The use of his actual name got his attention. “Don’t go down this hole. Please. It doesn’t bring him back, but it’ll take you down with it. Don’t do that to Sarah, to your baby. Bradley will be okay. He’s still got us.”

Don’t do this to me, Maverick didn’t say, but the begging tone in his voice communicated it nonetheless. They’d both seen how grief could consume a man, tear him to shreds until nothing was left but an empty body. Some days getting out of bed was the hardest damn thing to do. Carole and Bradley had stayed in California for a few weeks with Maverick to grieve together, but they eventually flew home to Virginia and Maverick finally allowed himself to crash. He didn’t remember most of his one-month leave between the Enterprise mission and his first day as instructor. Ice couldn’t find him for a week, considered filing a missing persons report, and thought the worst. Until Maverick showed up at his door in a similar manner to the way Ice had tonight. It was the first time Sarah had officially met the man, and the Kazanskys took in the pilot without hesitation. They’d truly been his guardian angels.

It was Ice’s turn to bump his shoulder. “Hey, I know that look. I promise.” Maverick nodded, meeting Ice’s eyes finally. The bloodshot was fading, and only showed his determination behind his words. “I love you, Mav.”

“I love ya too, Ice. I’m glad you came to me.”

The blond pilot suppressed the sniffle in his voice as he finally let a smile slip through the sadness. He couldn’t help but chuckle, the drastic realization of his life changing finally sobering him. “God, Mav, I’m gonna be a dad. How the hell am I supposed to raise a baby?!”

The aviators both laughed, talking nonsense way into the sunrise when Ice finally said his goodbyes to catch a few hours of sleep with his expecting wife. Maverick would wait a few hours before calling Carole, wanting nothing more than the four year old voice of his nephew to calm his soul. Maybe he’d tell Bradley about the MiG today.

Maybe the grief didn’t always get easier. But today he wouldn’t let himself fall back in that hole.

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#top gun #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #icemav #platonic #maverick #iceman #nick goose bradshaw #goose #carole bradshaw #top gun 1986 #major character death #grief #allyxstebo #buy me a coffee

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rrickgrrimes8 · 3 years

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hi! i was thinking if you could write an imagine of reader being rick and lori's daughter and sister to carl, rj and judith. i don't have a specific idea in mind, but just her before and after the time jump, struggling with being there when lori and carl died, and looking for rick with daryl, her relationship with her siblings and michonne, maybe maggie and hershel too (i was thinking since carl was 10 when it all started, she was 7 so now she's 17) thank you so much, and btw i loved your imagines i've read so far 💞

Being a Grimes ~ Rick Grimes x Grimes!reader

thank you so much for requesting i really enjoyed making this one. i also have a series kinda like this about Jacey Grimes which i’m currently making a book two for.

warnings: alluding to sexual assault or rape, suicide, death, gore (lemme know if i’ve missed anything off here)

sorry if there is any mistakes please tell if there is and give me feedback i’d love to here back from yall

masterlist

request guidelines

request are open

It was strange for y/n. This world would be strange for anyone really. But she was different. At only a mere 7 years old when the world went to shit she struggled as did many others. With the recent loss of her father - one she didn't entirely understand - still protruding through her heart, it was hard - so hard.

When it happened she was at daycare. The teaching assistant tried and successfully ate the teacher in front of her. She was next and was so close to being eaten until Shane rushed in. He kicked Ms Twune and grabbed y/n. Her mom sobbed at the sight of her, covered in blood and the tears smothering her daughters face. Carl was shocked too. He wanted nothing more than to protect his little sister. His dad always used to tell him that that was his duty - his job. And he hated how he had failed in this moment.

They made it to the quarry soon after. Y/n thought the group was nice - well mostly. The Dixon brothers scared her was what she told her brother or any of the children she had befriended. But she was lying. Yes, she was scared but only of Merle. He was creepy and mean to anyone he saw. Daryl was somewhat the same but he always found himself being nicer to the young child. And often kept her company when Lori and Shane went for a ‘walk’ in the woods. Glenn was another she found herself drawn to. He unlike Daryl happily invited her company. Glenn was sweet and funny. He never failed at making her laugh till she felt like she was going to pee. They were good friends which came to a fault when he had to go on runs. She’d scream and cry and refuse to let go of him because she was afraid that what happened to her father would happen to him.

That’s what happened earlier that morning. Glenn and a few others were going into Atlanta, despite her dismay. Glenn assured her he’d be fine, which she didn't believe and continued her tantrum.

“Can yer’ shut that damn baby up?” Merle spat covering his ears.

Shane shot him a threatening glare while Glenn stayed preoccupied with the distraught girl. “Hey, it's okay. I’m coming back,” He insisted holding her tightly at his hip, “I promise you, sweet girl.”

“No, b-b-but dada promise too a-a-and h-he,” She stopped herself, sobs erupting from her small body.

“I know sweet girl, I know. But I’ll be back I know I will.” Glenn placed her on the back of the RV, “I tell you what I’ll bring you back some of your favourite sweeties, huh? Would you like that?”

Giddily she nodded at his proposition, “Yes! Yes!”

“Alright, then I’ll bring back some for you, okay?” She nodded smiling cheerfully, “I love you, kid.”

“I luv you too, dumbass,” y/n giggled.

Glenn looked around cautiously hoping no one heard that “Hey sweet girl you can't say that.”

“W-what? Why?” the child began to cry again, “Y-y-you say it.”

“I know b-but its adult words okay? Not y/n words. When you're older, alright?” She nodded her head again kissing his cheeks softly and hugging him. “Thank you, sweet girl. I’ll see you soon,” He kissed the top of her head and started towards the car smiling as she shouted, “With sweeties!”

The group returned hours later bearing a new man instead of Merle. Y/n waited patiently for Glenn and the aforementioned sweets. "Gen!" She screamed happily still unable to say his name fully. The man sprinted over to her, pulling her into a much-needed cuddle after the day he had.

"It's Glenn, sweetheart," He chuckled while correcting.

"Oh sorry Gen," She wrapped her dainty arms around his neck.

"That's okay, sweet girl. I missed you."

"I missed you too," She whispered before letting out a longwinded 'ew', "You stinky, Gen."

The man smelt his shirt and nodded as the potent smell of walkers reached his nose. "I know yucky right?"

"Yucky!" Y/n buried her face in Glenn's shirt ignoring the stench and just enjoying his company. She always became clingy like this after coming home from a run. He loved it. On runs, if he ever encountered a life-threatening situation - like the one today - he always finds himself realising how much she means to him. Glenn saw her as a little sister - one almost replacing the ones that were cruely ripped from him when this began.

"How was it?" She inquired.

"Not fun, sweet girl. But I got your sweeties and a nice man helped us out. Saved us," She beamed.

"I like the good man. I'll give him two kisses when I see him. Maybe even one of my sweeties," Glenn chuckled.

"Why two kisses, y/n?"

"One for saving you. Two for bringing you hom," Glenn grinned contently and kissed her forehead.

"Its home bubs with an e on the end."

"Oh," She mumbled burying herself again.

"Oh my God," Someone muttered as they exited the van.

"Dad! Dad!" Carl screamed causing Glenn to snap his head in their direction. Carl came running towards the man, Rick, who had saved them in Atlanta. Y/n hadn't moved yet as she feared it was only a dream. That her dada wasn't really here.

"Sweet girl," He pulled her out of his neck, "Look it's your dad." The child gazed over to where her brother had run to. Sure enough, it was her dad. He held Carl as he cried, looking to Y/n wanting to hold her too.

"Dada!" She screamed jumping out of Glenn's arms dangerously. The girl scraped her knee on the way down but continued throwing herself into the hug.

"Oh, Carl! Y/n!" She kissed all over his face childishly, "I luv you, dada."

"I love you too, baby girl."

The years hadn't been kind to Y/n. She lost so much. Too much in fact that it had driven her to the depts of insanity and made her do things to herself, to others that she more than resented. The first loss was her mothers. She wasn't there like Carl was but the grief burned through her still. Y/n was too young to understand it really. Just how she was when Rick supposedly died. Y/n couldn't understand where her mom had gone she just knew she had a little sister now. One she swore to protect.

She thought she had failed that when the prison fell. The young child was on her own. Injured and lost. She wandered through the woods for days until she stumbled across a group. The group were mean and despite her resistance wouldn't let her go. They hurt her in ways she didn't and wouldn't speak of it even now. But that all changed when Daryl showed up. He protected her - stopped them from hurting her. And eventually led her back to her family. Where for the first time she began to fear her father.

Terminus was next. The people there snatched her from her family. She was forced to watch from afar as they were guided into the crate. Rick fought against them, Carl too but it was to no use. They had sectioned her off in a playroom. Every once in a while an older woman came in to fed and played with her. She hated it. Being in this world for more than a year now she knew that people like them didn't just want to play even if she did. She learnt that from the Claimers.

Carol found her. Although having never have been all that close to the older woman - the only relation being the closeness between y/n and Sophia - seeing her after so long made her cry out of joy. Carol was happy too as she rushed out of that place to take her to safety. The pair ended up in the woods. Carol had stopped a moment ago to clean the dirt from her face, "lemme help."

The girl sat up from where she was put down and cupped some water splashing it on Carol's face. Carol flinched as the water hit her, "Uh thank you."

"Welcome," She looked away getting distracted by the nearing sound of footsteps.

"Get behind me, y/n," Carol ordered to which she shook her head.

"No it dada," She ran away from the woman and towards the group.

"Y/n come back here!" Y/n continued ignoring Carols pleas and crashed herself into the back of Rick's legs.

The father shot around and began to cry as he saw the child he thought he lost at his feet. "Oh, baby!" He collected the girl in his arms. Carl rushed to them too happy to see her alive after Gareth claimed he killed her. "Oh y/n, never leave me again, okay?" He looked directly into her matching blue eyes, "Promise me."

"I promise, dada."

Later Carol led them to Judith. Y/n was over the moon and refused to let her out of her sight, which was exactly what Rick was doing too. They found the church a while after. There they had some semblance of peace. She was glad to have Glenn back - Maggie too. Along with the new people although Eugene was a bit weird.

At the church was also when the questions started. Daryl had told Rick about the group they were with and regretfully had to inform the father how she was there before him. Rick asked y/n - begged her - to tell her what happened. But she refused. She couldn't say what happened. What they did, which just made Rick fear more. Eventually, she spoke a little about it. She was vague and could barely string two words together without crying. He hated it. He hated how this was a reality for his daughter. He saw the bruises they left. And he couldn't understand how someone could touch his child. Or how he could be so powerless to stop it.

Bob died. She didn't really know the man but it still upset her. Beth too. Although she was a lot closer to her. Beth was one of her only friends and was someone who would look after her when her father couldn't. They bonded and now she was gone.

After Beth's demise, they spent lots of time on the road. They suffered, almost died countless times but they prevailed. They got stronger - she got stronger. And they eventually found Alexandria. There everything was good again like how it was at the prison or even before this hell. She liked it there and didn't understand why the others were so sceptical.

Though that didn't last for long. Y/n began to hate the place when Carl got shot. Alexandria almost stole her brother from her. So she despised it. She refused to leave her brother's side as he adjusted to his injury. Yes, he found it annoying how she wouldn't leave him be and he often snapped at her. But she was there when he needed her. Despite the age difference and the many years of memories they had lost to this fight, she understood his pain. When he saw himself as ugly, a monster even, she made him think otherwise. She kept him afloat, which he was eternally thankful for.

Glenn was next.

She didn't believe it even after she was forced to see it with her own two eyes. She was next to Glenn in the lineup. She had to watch up close. Y/n had to be mocked by that man. She had to stay the whole night with her best friends brains on her face. After that night she blamed herself. She told herself that if Negan was just one person off she would be dead and he would live. He would get to see his child born and grow old with Maggie like they had spoken about. She wholeheartedly believed he deserved to live over her.

The war with Negan shook her to the core. At the time his face filled her nightmares. He just looked so normal. He looked nice even. Yet he hurt and he hurt and he hurt.

He killed her Glenn. And then Carl. It wasn't Negans fault although she did blame him. Carl had gotten bit. Y/n held his hand as he died in that tunnel as the home they had built above them fell. She got a letter too - even though she would rather have preferred to have her brother back. In the letter, Carl told her how proud he was of her - how thankful he was to have her as a sister. He told her to protect Judith, their dad and Michonne, who she had recently begun to call momma.

After Carl's death, y/n shut herself from the world well everyone except her father. For days she would cry until she couldn't anymore. She would scream and scream until her voice was gone. She just didn't understand why it had to be Carl? Why mom? Why Glenn? Why Beth? Why was it never her? The following weeks she found herself wishing it would be her next. She could never bring herself to say it out loud but with any battle, any fight, anything, she wished it would be her.

So when she lost her father her whole world fell apart. He was her consistent so why did he leave her? She was at the bridge that day. Daryl held her crying frame as Rick set off that final shot blowing him and the walkers off the bridge. Y/n Grimes' father was dead.

She stayed in Alexandria for a while afterwards. For the sole reason to protect her siblings. Yes, siblings - plural. Somehow through all the bad some good came from it. She just wished her father and Carl could've seen it. RJ Grimes came into this world 9 months later. And he was perfect. For months she would assist in taking care of him as Michonne wasn't doing the greatest without the love of her life. Truth be told neither was y/n she was just better at hiding it.

Until one night it all became too much. Y/n didn't know how it happened but she found herself balancing on the edge of her window. She wanted to jump - to end it. But she just couldn't will herself to do it. And when Daryl showed up she knew she couldn't. "Hey step away from ta window, alrigh'," The man ordered as he saw her shaking frame rocking back and forth.

"I-i can't," She sobbed.

"Ye' ya can. Jus' step back I'll catch ya," Daryl moved closer but paused when she shouted to stop.

"I can't, Daryl. They're all gone. They're all dead," The tears clouded her eyes. She shut them tightly picturing her families faces wanting so badly to join them.

"Please jus' step back, y/n. Yer' not alone. I'm here," He croaked the tears floating down his cheeks, "Don't jump."

"I love you, Daryl."

"I love ya too, okay? So step away from the window," He watched as she turned her head slightly catching his eyes.

"I love you but I can't. Tell mom, RJ and Judy I love them as well."

Suddenly she went to fall forward but Daryl reacted quicker. He gripped her waist pulling her into the room unwilling to release his grasp. "Yer' not leaving me," He told her as she cried into his shoulder, "Yer' cant leave me." Overhearing the chaos, Michonne entered her daughter's room to see the window wide open and the two of them crying. Daryl looked at her. The look telling her all she needed to know. Michonne began to cry herself and joined them on the ground.

"Y/n?" A small voice called from the door frame.

"Judith go back to bed, okay?" Michonne told her but Judith continued towards her sister. The girl said nothing as she wiped her sister's tears and held her hand.

It was 5 years later now. After her attempt, she left Alexandria with Daryl in search of her father. She didn't believe he was alive despite everything inside her wanting to. But Daryl did and after what happened they became a lot closer. He was happy she joined him. Even though the act of being out there was gruelling at times he was glad he could look after her. And if something would've happened to her while he was gone he could never have forgiven himself. Understandably Michonne was angry that y/n decided to leave. Y/n was her daughter and Michone her mother. They needed each other but she was willing to let Y/n leave to figure that out. It brought her peace looking for her father.

The silence was her favourite and as Daryl wasn't much of a talker she got lots of it. They got a dog too, which Daryl cleverly named Dog. Everything was a messed up version of okay but it was still good. Being out there made her find her purpose. She went home a lot more than Daryl did, which pleased her siblings and mother. It was always for a few days never longer as she feared she'd stay forever and she couldn't. As much as Alexandria is good it also drives y/n to a dark place. One she was in that night. She lost so much there. And staring at those four walls drove her insane. It didn't help how Negan was imprisoned there. Just thinking how close he was made her skin crawl. She knew how Rick visited him when he was alive that he believed Carl was right about the killing. That it had to stop. Y/n knew he was right too but she could never bring herself to one admit or two face Negan.

It felt like a story she read as a child when the Whisperers showed up. Like Negan, they scared her. So when she was told about his escape she only assumed the worst. The Whisperers took so many from them. Like Enid for example. Her story was cut short because of them. The two never really spoke but she understood how she and Carl felt for each other at a time. So ultimately it felt like she lost her final piece of Carl when she died. Y/n wished she had spoken to her when she could've. She wished she could've heard the untold stories they shared. She needed to know about Carl's final years with her. But now she's gone too along with those memories.

The war with the Whisperers took everything from them. The Kingdom. Hilltop. Alexandria. Along with the lives they lost in the process. With the group separated she found herself protecting Judy and RJ. Michonne had gone. Where she had gone to, y/n had no idea. For a messed up reason, she began to prepare herself for her mother's death before it was even announced. That was until she got the call. She was okay and... apparently so was Rick.

Disbelief was what hit her first. She couldn't hear his voice nor see his face so how could she know it was true. Michonne didn't know either she couldn't if he was really there, still alive. That night of the call she left. Without hesitation, she kissed RJ and Judith's heads, told them she loved them and told them to tell everyone else that and left. She left in the direction Michonne had told her.

She left to find her father. And she knew she wouldn't return until she did. "I'm coming, dad."

#the walking dead imagine #the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes x grimes!reader #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes imagine #carl grimes x grimes!reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #michonne x reader #michonne x daughter!reader #rick grimes #carl grimes #daryl dixon #michonne #rick grimes daughter #the walking dead request

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starlessea · 3 years

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𝙎𝙩𝙚𝙥 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙂𝙖𝙨 - Chapter 2. Manic Pixie Dream Bitch

A/N Make sure you read the prologue and other chapters first! Things are starting to pick up - I hope you stick around for the ride.

Series Masterlist: Step on the Gas

Summary: A dishonourable discharge from the military results in you being hauled off to live with your grandparents in the boonies, otherwise known as the middle of nowhere Georgia. After running over a nail on the road, and pushing your grandpa's vintage Camaro to the nearest auto-shop, you meet Daryl Dixon - the local mechanic. At some point, the world ends, but that stubborn man never gives you a chance to slow down. His smile gives you whiplash, but he still insists that you to step on the gas.

Words: 5374

Chapter Warnings: Language, Injury, Domestic abuse mentions

The evening was cool, and a breeze hung in the air.

The midday Georgia heat had all but melted away, leaving behind tepid winds that rustled leaves on the trees — and the canvas tents. They fluttered around you as you walked, like the beating of butterfly wings, or ripples atop the ocean.

It was peaceful. It felt safe.

All eyes were on you as you followed Daryl to the firepit, taking a seat on a low log beside him — but not too close.

The night was still too young to turn in yet, so the man had begrudgingly led you out of his tent when the silence became stifling. For some reason, conversation didn't come as naturally to the two of you as it once had.

There was tension there. You could feel it.

But you didn't have the slightest clue why. The last time you had seen Dixon, it was in the midst of a tremendous thunderstorm. The two of you had laughed, and ran through the rain until your clothes were soaked through, and your skin was cold.

It was one of the best nights of your life.

Yet, here you were — sitting beside the man in stagnant silence as he kicked at coal embers with his boot, and pretended not to feel your stare seeping into the back of his head.

Across from you were the people you had briefly met earlier — the two officers by the names of Shane and Rick, or helicopter boy — the asian man named Glenn, and Carol who was sitting beside her husband. Their individual conversations were low, barely audible against the crackling fire, but one-by-one they seemed to filter off, until there was nothing but silence once again.

Shane stood up.

He stoked the fire a little with a branch, careful not to let the flames rise too high. "So, tell me," the man spoke, his voice wide and assertive,"how's a sweet young thing like yourself figure out how to fly a Sikorsky Hawk?"

His presence was big.

It made you shuffle in your seat as his eyes dragged down you, resting on your arm — which was bound by a sling. "Well, minus the landing part," he murmured below his breath.

You didn't like the way he smirked when he said that, like it had been amusing to him — funny to him that you'd almost died. Daryl let out a sound beside you, a low rumbling noise from the back of his throat that only you could hear. But you didn't bite to his words.

After all, men like that could only bark.

"I was in the military," you answered, meeting his eyes and not breaking the stare.

Your throat was still sore, but your words rang out clear, atop the thrum of the evening air, and flickering flames. Shane stuffed his hands in his pockets, and rocked back on the balls of his feet — as though he was putting on some type of show.

"Air force, then?" he questioned, but it was starting to feel more like an interrogation.

You caught the whites of Carol's eyes across from you, as they darted between the officer and yourself, and to her husband, then back to the other officer. She seemed as skittish as a person could possibly be — just watching, waiting, for something to happen.

You cleared your throat and forced a smile. "Training to be," you clarified.

For some reason, the exchange didn't feel like a conversation. The mood was too tense, too untrusting. It reminded you of the few minutes you'd spent alone with Dixon, back at his tent.

Something felt wrong.

Shane stalked around the firepit, his police boots crunching against the leafy bed, and kicking up dirt where he walked. He stopped directly in front of you, looming a shadow down onto you and Daryl — and making the other man scoff as he looked up.

"So not actually a pilot yet?" Shane smirked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Your smile faltered, he was asking too many questions.

The other officer, Rick, took off his sheriff's hat and tracked his partner's movements with his eyes, as though anticipating something that hadn't happened yet. It made you feel a nervousness you were ashamed of.

You never did play well with men like Shane.

"And tell me this," he said, lowly, as he crouched down to your level, "why aren't you at Fort Benning?" He looked back over his shoulder, at Rick who was sitting stiff as a board, before cocking his head back to you."Or were you part of the group that showered Atlanta with napalm?"

The word hung heavy in the air — even though he had practically whispered it.

Your mind flickered back to the day it rained fire down upon the city, to the sounds of screams, and the charred remains you'd stumbled across on the occasions you wandered too close to the centre.

You shook your head immediately, feeling the pain shoot up your shoulder. "I had no part in that," you hissed — much more viciously than you anticipated.

As soon as the words left your mouth, you curled in on yourself. You didn't miss the way the man recoiled slightly from your face, and you'd even caught a fleeting glimpse of your reflection in the blacks of his irises.

You wore a look of pure disgust.

"I was discharged," you whispered, after taking a few moments to collect yourself. "Couple months before all this." You glanced to your right, to where the former mechanic was sitting — trying to pretend like he wasn't watching you. "Got sent to Georgia afterwards, which is where I met Daryl," you explained, noticing his eyes narrow at your words. "Briefly."

He looked away. He didn't seem to like that choice, either.

Shane stood back up, stretching out his knees, and then his neck. He rolled his head back in a circle, before glancing to and from you and Daryl with a smirk.

"Makes sense," he murmured, before turning on his heels to walk away, "dropouts tend to stick together, no?"

And for the second time today, Dixon went wild.

The tension finally snapped, like an elastic band having been stretched to its limit, and Daryl shot up to his feet, lunging for the man.

But you reached out for him at the same time, trying to grab his hand so that the night didn't end in the way you were almost certain it was going to end.

After all, you'd only seen Daryl go off once before — back in the old world — which had left an aftertaste of bloodstains over your bar, and maroon-tinted bruised knuckles that needed tending to well after your closing time.

But now he seemed even worse — more tightly wound than a coil beneath your boot, always ready to jump up and spring.

He was playing the part of a man far more angry than you had ever known him to be.

Although you still couldn't figure out why.

The ticking of the wall clock was stark against the silence. Joe's Bar had been cleared out more than an hour back, but the two of you remained — like ghosts haunting whiskey bottles and looming around the jukebox until it played a song you liked.

Dixon hissed as you tipped alcohol over his knuckles, watching as it seeped into the cuts and spread over his bruises like a clear film. They weren't that bad, really — only a purplish hue to them.

After all, you'd seen the other guy.

But you'd never seen Dixon get so riled up before. He'd always been a cocktail of shy glances and dumb wonder around you. That was until tonight at least, when a drunken customer slapped your ass at the bar, and the mechanic beat him bloody.

He'd probably seen how rattled it had made you, and how you looked ready to either snap or break.

"Ya don' have to do this," the man rasped, purposefully avoiding your eyes. "Save the vodka."

Your hand stilled over his knuckles, as you breathed in the strong, sharp scent which made your lungs burn. You laughed, pointing back over your shoulder at the shelves atop of shelves — stacked with an array of bottles, all different shapes and sizes.

"We've got plenty to spare, don't you worry," you hummed, before tipping more Smirnoff onto a cotton pad. "And you didn't have to do that, either," you chided, narrowing your eyes at a particular cut — which had already begun to crust over. "I could've handled him."

The mechanic scowled, glancing back over his shoulder to the place where it had all gone down — as though watching the scene play out once more in his mind.

He shook his head. "Ya could'a lost yer job."

"I'm used to that by now," you bit back, not once looking up from his bruise-splayed knuckles. "But Dixon," you cautioned, "don't go doing that again."

A car drove by outside, its headlights streaming in through the window and illuminating the dark husk of the bar — the pool tables that had been otherwise cloaked in shadows, and the expression of the man sitting opposite you, studying your every word.

"Joe might bar you next time," you whispered, screwing the lid back onto the bottle.

But Dixon only laughed.

"Barred from a bar?" he scoffed, stretching out his fingers to inspect your work, "he ain't gonna do tha'."

The stool squeaked as the man stood up, dusting off his jeans and retrieving his jacket. It was long past midnight, and you knew you'd be catching a ride back with him as he sped down the streets, reminding you to hold on tighter.

"What makes you so sure?" you teased, untying your apron and leaving it at the end of the counter.

Daryl held the door open, and fished around in his pockets for something that jingled — pulling it out to show you.

It was a set of car keys, with a tacky coke-bottle charm hanging from them.

"Still got his truck sittin' in the shop," he smirked.

The scuffle between Shane and Daryl was interrupted before blows could even be exchanged. Rick grabbed a hold of his partner, whilst you pulled the former mechanic back down to his firepit seat, trading places with him until you were face-to-face with the other asshole — a few inches shorter but a whole lot more pissed.

Daryl tried to stand back up again, but you flashed those eyes at him — the ones that made him immediately second guess the action.

"Sit down," you seethed, punching out each word as you spoke them.

And surprisingly, Dixon did as you said.

You weren't angry at him, exactly, but you didn't want him fighting your battles for you anymore — especially not whilst he had a chip on his shoulder more noticeable than the sling on yours.

Then you turned back to Shane, looking up at him as he stood with his chest almost flush to you, completely ignoring Rick's pleas behind him. He knew exactly what he was doing. That comment wasn't off-handed — he made sure you could hear it.

"I don't like you," you said lowly, not backing down from the glare he shot your way.

You didn't want things to turn out like this. There was nothing more you hated than making a scene.

Well, there was one thing, you thought.

You couldn't fucking stand men who abused their power.

"Don't have to like me, princess," Shane retorted, reaching out a hand in your direction. "I'm just here to keep you alive."

You smacked his palm away — as though it were a fly buzzing much too close — before he could make contact with your skin. And you saw red.

Daryl would have punched a man for less, if you'd so much as given him the right look. But this time, you shot a warning glance at him, telling him to stay put.

"Don't fucking touch me," you whispered, but your words held more weight than if you'd screamed them — and Shane retracted his hand. "I can take care of myself."

Except, he made a point of letting his eyes drag over your injuries, lingering on the makeshift sling, before settling on your stomach — as though he could see your stitches underneath the material of Daryl's shirt.

"Clearly," he remarked, before turning on his heels once again.

Nobody stopped him this time — not even Rick — as he stalked around the fire, and into the night. You caught a glimpse of his metal dog tags as he did, glinting off the light of the flame and jumping around his neck with every step he took. You thought it was ironic for him to even wear them.

Or maybe not.

After all, he seemed the same as every other military man you'd encountered — a goddamn animal.

"Make sure you take care of your manic pixie dream bitch," he yelled, probably directed at Dixon. "Wouldn't want anymore helicopters fallin' from the damn sky."

And so Shane disappeared into his tent — into the shadows you couldn't quite make out — and Daryl stood up straight after, heading in the opposite direction. The remaining group was uneasy, tentative almost, as they watched your head whip back and forth between them and the mechanic as he left.

Dixon stalked away into the brush, despite the shouts and warnings not to stray too far from the campsite.

And you followed him.

With each step further from the flickering flames of the bonfires, it became harder to navigate the night. Your injuries had slowed you down, and you flinched every time a twig snapped, or leaves rustled near your ear. You didn't even have a weapon anymore — since it had burnt up with the rest of your gear in the crash.

But it didn't take you long to track down Dixon. After all, his smoke trail gave him away.

He was sitting on a grassy bank, over facing the quarry waters. There was a full moon out, and you could now see it peering above the tops of the trees — ghostly white against the stark, black sky. And cigarette smoke swirled around it, leading back down to the shadowy figure on the ground, legs tucked up to his chest as he breathed deeply.

You approached, wincing as your shoulder caught on a low-hanging branch.

"Yer gonna bust ya stitches messin' 'round like tha'," Dixon spoke, not even turning around to confirm it was you. But still, he outstretched a hand, helping you sit down beside him.

The moonlight was beautiful. It drizzled over the treetops in the distance, and the spindly branches that reached up to the sky. It even reflected off Daryl's skin as you glanced at him in the corner of your eye — watching as the smoke poured out from his lips and settled in the air.

You tucked yourself into his side just a little, missing the heavy feeling of your jacket which smelt like him — and was almost just as warm. Part of you expected him to shrug you off, or make some remark in-keeping with how withdrawn he'd been throughout the day.

But, he didn't.

He let you sit beside him, as he blocked you from the breeze — as though you weren't the one person who would be used to it.

"Got a spare?" you asked, eyeing his packet of cigarettes.

Dixon hesitated for a second, before placing them down in the space between you. "Thought ya didn't smoke," he replied.

You shook your head and laughed. "I don't."

In truth, you'd only recently taken up the habit — smoking much too scarcely to even call it a habit, really. It had all started when you'd stumbled across a rundown convenience store, and looted a packet of cigarettes without thinking — just because they were the brand that Dixon smoked.

The first time you lit one, you'd cried. They smelt like him.

They'd smelt like your only friend, and reminded you of just how lonely the end of the world was. So, you started to smoke — only when you missed him — and you continued because, even though he was now sitting beside you, for some reason you still felt empty.

Neither of you said anything after that, but you could hear his thoughts — those questions he wanted to ask but didn't. After all, he'd voiced them once before, back before the world ended. Except, it was you who wasn't willing to answer.

"What'd ya do tha' got yer ass sent here?" Dixon asked, one day whilst you were hanging around at the auto-shop, watching him scrub down that Honda bike. "Y'know, locked away in rural Georgia."

You laughed at his words, taking a swig from the ice cold cola you'd skimmed from Dean's fridge.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"I was training to be a helicopter pilot," you admitted into the air, answering that question truthfully for the first time.

But he'd already guessed — after the day you'd both had.

"Why didn't it work out?" Daryl mumbled, the cigarette bouncing between his lips as he spoke the words.

You watched as the smoke formed white clouds against the black night, before finally reaching for the packet yourself.

"Fear of heights," you told the man, letting out a breathy chuckle that blew out the lighter's flame.

It was a lie, but the truth was much more bleak.

Though, perhaps that was what nights like this were for. Out here, there was no one else to hear you speak your thoughts, or even see the two silhouettes sitting in the dark. Maybe you could even start trusting the man called Daryl Dixon, since he'd done nothing but pick you up and set you back onto your feet ever since you fell from the sky — and even some time before that.

"No matter how long I would fly for, I always had to land at some point," you explained, though it didn't really sound like much of an explanation. "But the people on the ground made me wish that I never had."

Daryl met your eyes, and in that moment you swore you saw a glimpse of that former mechanic — the one who was street smart but still clueless to people.

"That was until I met a man at a garage who promised to show me the world on his bike," you smiled, before letting the smoke trail from your lips, "but we ended up watching the stars instead."

Dixon didn't smile back.

And somehow, the smoke on your lips tasted more familiar — felt more like Daryl — than the man sitting beside you.

"Ya can take the tent tonight," he mumbled, snuffing his cigarette butt out on the grass.

You pulled a face, but he didn't retrieve it like he normally would — he probably thought there was nothing left in the world worth preserving anymore.

"And what about you?" you asked, making an expression he couldn't even see. "You should rest up before tomorrow."

But the man shook his head in the dark, pushing back on his knuckles to stand up — and offering you his hand once more.

"I ain't none of yer concern," he dismissed, whilst his palm was still warm in yours, "'m gonna sleep out under the stars."

The stars were bright overhead, with no light pollution, or mysterious blinking flickers that could have been mistaken for planes of satellites. But somehow, you didn't fully believe his story.

You laughed, but it wasn't the warm kind. It was the kind that felt foreign on your tongue, because it was a far cry from the fits of giggles the man normally had you in.

"Well, enjoy the view," you replied, shortly.

But you failed to notice the way Dixon watched you the entirety of the way back to camp — as though he already was.

Once Daryl had walked you there, and left you at the tent doorway, he did indeed roll out an old blanket over the grass, to lay back underneath the stars — just as promised.

He was far enough away that he didn't feel like you were right beside him, but still close enough to make out your silhouette against the lamp-lit canvas walls of his tent. That way, he didn't have to worry about walkers — but he didn't have to worry about you, either.

The night was quiet. The full, bright moon beamed down on him like a streetlight and the stars blinked in the sky like peering sets of eyes — staring back at him whilst he looked up. Daryl sighed, and crumpled his packet of cigarettes in his fist, crushing any left inside.

He needed to stop smoking them, because now they'd become tainted by you — and had become another thing that inescapably reminded him of you.

The lingering scent of them on his fingertips alone made him remember just how intoxicating you were. It made Daryl feel like he'd gotten a high from the scent of unbottled moonshine, or from that smile of pure starlight which could make a man go blind.

Though, he'd only had the pleasure of seeing it once today. The rest of the time you'd been pissed, confused, hurt.

He'd probably caused a lot of that — he wasn't that oblivious.

But you were the type who could break his heart without even knowing, and then offer to mend it like it had been someone else who'd done the damage.

He didn't understand how you could act so nonchalant, so blasé, as though you hadn't nearly died, and as though you hadn't just come back from the dead — where Daryl had thought you'd been this entire time.

He laughed, and it almost sounded as cold as the one you'd directed at him earlier.

Merle always called him naive, but Daryl often overcompensated for the fact with blind curses and bruised knuckles from butting heads those who suspected him of being as much.

But it had been the truth.

He was naive — especially when it came to you.

But, Daryl was also angry and hurt. And he didn't know how to fix that without bruising his knuckles — or his ego.

He bit his lip, wetting away the dryness with his tongue, whilst trying not to focus on how dry his throat felt, too. Then, Daryl rested his arm over his eyes.

He didn't feel like watching the stars anymore.

When you awoke, light had filtered into the tent through the mesh netting, speckling over your face like glittering gold as you blinked.

But when you awoke, the man was gone — leaving only another shirt behind in his place.

It almost made you cry, because of how familiar it felt. It smelled like Joe's Bar, of Marlboro cigarettes, of Georgia, and of home.

But you couldn't cry; you hadn't done since the day everything fell apart. So instead, you pulled on your big-girl shirt — the one belonging to the man twice the size of you — and grit your teeth as you threaded your bruised arm through the sleeve, and caught your stitches on the buttons.

You spent the whole morning trying not to notice the glaringly obvious absence in the camp — the men who'd left in search of Merle Dixon. But at the same time, you grimaced at the sight of the ones who hadn't left, the ones like Shane, and Carol's husband — who leered at the women as they washed his fucking underwear.

"Carol, why don't you ask Ed to come and help us," Andrea remarked, glancing towards the man resting languidly by his jeep, "make himself useful instead of just standing there smoking cigarettes."

Beside you, Jacqui laughed a high-pitched laugh, as she wrung out another damp t-shirt in her fists. You had only been formally introduced to her this morning, but her smile was infectious — and for a minute, it made you forget about the anxiety deep in the pits of your stomach.

Carol was quiet, but eventually chirped up once she mustered enough confidence.

"If I knew how to get him to do that, I would have done it years ago," she muttered, and shyly rolled her eyes.

Andrea boomed out a laugh, whilst the others chimed in at the appearance of Carol's unexpected humour. You tried not to let the chuckle wrack up your body, since every slight movement sent shockwaves to your injuries. But at this moment, you didn't really mind.

Carol had a pretty smile, and an even nicer laugh.

Except, her husband didn't seem to think so.

He stalked over with the same bravado Shane had mastered the night before — probably taking inspiration from the other man who wore boots three times his size. You could make out the sneer on his face before he even got within a few steps of you all. It was just that deep.

The man flicked his cigarette in your direction, and it barely missed the toe of your boot.

"What's so funny, hmm?" he jeered, but his tone was anything but light. You didn't have to hear them twice to recognise those words as a threat. "Gotta be somethin' if it's got you ladies so distracted."

Each of the women stayed silent as a grave — as though in some secret pact Ed was unaware of. He sauntered around, weaving in between Jacqui and Andrea, until the latter eventually snapped.

"Is it really any of your business?" she remarked, frustration clear in her voice. "After all, we're the ones doing your laundry."

She thrust the damp clothes she was holding at the man's chest, before letting them fall to the floor. The moment you heard them hit the ground, your hands were already shaking with adrenaline. You knew that look — the one Ed wore — and nothing good ever came from it.

He stepped up to Andrea, his pride damper than the shirt at his feet. "Know your place, little bitch," he hissed, shoving her back with his shoulder.

And chaos broke out.

Jacqui's screams sounded very much like her high-pitched laughs had done, and Lori called for Shane like a broken record that only knew a single name. You wanted to get everyone to calm down. You wanted to diffuse the situation like how you'd been trained to do.

But all you saw was red.

Carol interjected, lacing herself around her husband's arm as she begged for him to stop. "Ed, please don't-"

The man backhanded his wife, sending her to the ground with a single strike.

And that was your queue.

You rushed over, feeling your feet sink into the pebbles deeply with each step. You had a dozen stitches in your stomach, but you would rather pop every damn one open than let him get away with that.

"You dare lay your hands on her?" you roared, approaching the man — the monster — from behind as he loomed over Carol like a shadow of cowardice.

Ed reacted out of instinct, flailing his arm backwards and hitting you across the jaw with his elbow as you tried to pull him away. Immediately, your mouth pooled with the taste of copper, and you spit it out onto the pebbled stones beneath your feet.

You looked over at Andrea, who was dumbstruck as she watched blood drizzle from your lip, before you wiped it away by the sleeve of Daryl's shirt — with your one good arm.

"Get Carol out of here," you said, so quiet that it might as well have been a whisper.

You looked at the man, sizing him up as he stared you down.

"She isn't gonna want to see this."

The evening sunset was a vibrant salmon, tinged with deeper, darker hues the further you got from the sun. Those parts of the sky were the same maroon colour as your jaw — you'd caught glimpses of it in Andrea's compact mirror.

You'd spent the latter part of the day avoiding Shane's lectures, and the women who meant well but fussed over you far too much. So, you retreated back to Dixon's tent — icing the ripe bruise on your chin with a pack from Dale's RV cooler.

The scent of Marlboro cigarettes lingered around you — faint but still present in the fibers of the blankets beneath you, and in your shirt which was now bloodstained. You tried to ignore the pull of it, not wanting to smoke.

The tent puckered as someone fumbled with it, and soon the entrance flap was unzipped — revealing Carol, who timidly ducked inside.

"We meet again," you greeted her, thinking back to how she'd tended to your wounds in this very spot, not even a full day before. "I was going to apologise for beating your husband into the ground, but I couldn't bring myself to say that I'm sorry."

You grimaced as the words left your mouth. They sounded a lot more sharp than you'd intended.

But she still smiled warmly at you, a smile that you didn't think you deserved, and shook her head. The woman sat down on her knees opposite you, coaxing the ice-pack away from your skin for a second to inspect the damage.

"I don't blame you," she said, as gentle as her touch. She smelt like citrus, and summer days as her palm ghosted over your face. "I came to thank you, actually. For being the first to stand up for me."

Your gaze dropped down to where her sleeves had risen up, revealing the yellowish bruises dotted over her arms — in the shape of fingerprints.

"Well, someone had to," you noted, sadly.

She caught the way your eyes lingered, and quickly adjusted her shirt, pulling it back down to her wrists.

"Was it really that obvious?" she chuckled, nervously.

But you felt like she already knew the answer.

Her stance was practiced, even sitting down. She wasn't at all relaxed, hovering on her knees like a small rabbit, ready to dart to safety at a moment's notice. You felt like you were looking into a mirror — one that only reflected the past.

You nodded. "When you know the signs, it is," you admitted, sitting back against Dixon's pillow. "I had my suspicions before."

She hummed in return, acting much more casually around you than she had done a mere moment before. "What gave it away?" she asked — curious more than anything.

Light streamed in through the little plastic windows on the tent, falling in a stream between you — warm against your lap.

"Your hair, for one thing," you confessed, gesturing with your free hand. "You shave it yourself? To stop him grabbing it during fights?"

She remained silent at the accusation, but her eyes gave her entirely away.

You nodded. "They always tend to stoop that low."

And Carol bit her lip in response, not pointing out how you'd done the same with your braids — keeping them tight to your scalp, not even a strand out of place.

She excused herself then, making some remark about how she best ought to go check on her husband, before letting you catch a glimpse of the brave scowl which made its way onto her face as she said it. The sun hung high in the sky as she ducked back out, almost as bright as that full moon had been the night before.

"Hey, Carol," you said, loud enough for her to still hear it, "if he gives you trouble again, don't hesitate to come find me."

The woman nodded once more, and waved you off.

"Just you wait until my good arm heals," you called after her. "My right hook's even better than my left."

Then, you winked — watching as she debated letting out the laugh she had stifled — as you recalled the actual reason that got you hauled off to Georgia in the first place.

Dishonourable discharge, my ass.

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A/N Things are picking up here! How are we feeling? We all doing good? I promise this series won’t be really angsty, so stick with me, my dears :)

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itsmymeaningoflife · 2 years

Note

Please bless us with your opinion of what you want Caryl's first kiss to look like vs. how you think it will look like.

(Didn’t expect this one to be as long as it is I’m sorry sorry- it turned into a bit of a self indulgent fanfic moment lol)

I’ve made peace with the fact that realistically, Caryl cannon won’t take place until the last couple of episodes of s11c. Obviously I’d like it to happen earlier but with the spin off I think they’re gonna drag it out.

If anyone who also watched game of thrones, I think it’s gonna be a Jaime and Brienne type moment. The slow burn couple everyone has been waiting to get together since an emotionally charged moment in early seasons, covered up by years of friendship and other possible love interests, ending with an admission of feelings after a moment of jealousy. If I am going for more realistic version of events it would go something like this-

Carol and Daryl are talking about what the future means for them now they are settled in the Commonwealth and the fighting has stopped. Daryl might mention New Mexico again and Carol will shut him down with another “what about Connie?” type of line. Daryl will get fed up of her constant pushing and ask/ snap “what is it with you and her? Every time i try and have a conversation with you, you bring her up.”. Carol will be bewildered because she thought his brushing off in the past was him being coy about his feelings for the other woman but now he seems genuinely frustrated. She’ll reply with a “I just thought…” and Daryl will cut in “thought what? That I like her? She’s my friend Carol, nothing else. I don’t know how many times I can say that before it sinks in with you.” Carol won’t drop it tho and continue with “friendship is a good foundation for a relationship. And she’s perfect, Daryl. I don’t want you to be alone forever. You need to find yourself someone to settle down with. You should try asking her out, see where it goes.”. Through this ramble Daryl is just watching her. “You really don’t get it do you?” Daryl will chuckle, rubbing his hands over his face. This woman will be the death of him. “Get what?” Carol would reply, confused. “I don’t want to just settle down for the sake of it, that isn’t me. Never has been, even before all of this. And I certainly don’t want something just because it’s perfect. I want someone real. Someone who will accept I am just as messed up as the world around me but have my back anyway.” Daryl will pause before stepping closer into her space, begging her to understand. “I want someone who will get on my bike and leave all this bullshit behind because it isn’t them either.” Carol will be stunned, it finally hitting that its her that Daryl wants to be with. “Oh-” she will breath and Daryl will take this moment to close the space between them and kiss her very sweetly on the lips. He will pull away and cup her face before asking “do you get it now?” And they will both be smiling and teary and I will be screaming

My ideal Caryl cannon is even more far fetched because it relies on the possibility of Ricks return. So, Rick is back (all the emotional reunions are out of the way yes we love it but moving on) and they’re hosting a massive feast for everyone to celebrate his return. There’s music, people are dancing, everyone is a little tipsy and the vibes are immaculate. Obviously Daryl hasn’t left Ricks side since he returned and they’re sat together eating and drinking, but Daryl keeps getting distracted by Carol who is being chatted up by some commonwealth dude (low-key would love for it to be Negan for the drama but idk) and Rick would be talking and realises Daryl isn’t listening so follows his eyeline to where Carol is stood. Rick would laugh and say “Jesus Christ, you still haven’t said anything have you?”. Daryl would be confused and be like “huh?? Said anything about what??” And Rick would be soft with him because of course Daryl is emotionally constipated “I don’t know man, maybe starting with the fact that you’ve been in love with her since the farm.” Daryl would be caught very off guard and be like “what— no! I ummm-“ and Rick would laugh again and say “I’ve been away for 7 years, and you still look at her the same. Like you can’t function when she’s not around. Trust me brother, tell her. Tell her while you’ve still got the chance… before that other guy persuades her to dance with him.” Rick would push Daryl away and he will be in total shock because omfg he’s just stripped me bare and threw me to the wolves. His feet will carry him over to Carol and she will be like “Hey!” And then whisper “thank god you came over, he would not leave me alone…wait are you okay, you look really pale.” Daryl would pull Carol away from the party, to a quiet corridor or something and because Daryl’s emotions only allow him to be angry when he’s overwhelmed he would be all like “who was that guy?” And Carol will laugh and be like “honestly i don’t even know his name…why?” And Daryl would be all flustered because how does he explain he doesn’t want this other guy around his friend who he has been crushing on for the last ten years without pouring his heart out. But Carol is quick and she would be like “oh my god, Daryl. Are you jealous?” And Daryl would be like “pffty no, not at all.” And Carol would take the reigns be like “you sound quite jealous” while stepping a bit closer to him, hoping he would take the hint. Cut to steamy make out sesh and around the corner Rick and Michonne are cheering because “yay finallyyyy!”

My version is more comedic and I really don’t believe it will happen that way. Just a bit more light hearted lol

But anyway hope this was what you wanted from me hahaha

#twd #caryl #carol x daryl #daryl x carol #caryl is endgame

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ajbwasntwriting · 3 years

Text

Daughter!Reader X Negan, Reader x Daryl: Chapter 13. Flames

First | Previous | Next

(we using the same gif cause I couldn’t get the bridge gif to work sorry no sorry)

I’ll only post more chapters if previous chapters get a good reaction so if you enjoy this please heart it, reblog it, and/or reply to it. Interaction inspires.

if you wish to be added to the tag list please dm me. All chapters can be found under the tag AJ’s Negan’s Daughter AU

Soon the camp was left near barren. The saviours had made up more than half the work force and as far as it seemed you were the only one left. You spotted Daryl sitting in front of a white tent eating an apple. You bee-lined past Eugene and Rick to him, sitting on the chair just opposite from him.

“Hey” Daryl greeted you warmly. You just smiled at him then went back to staring in the middle ground, leaned down in the chair and your arms crossed. You sat there in peeved silence for a moment, just not wanting to be alone right now. “Heard the yelling match you had-”

“Don’t” You said, closing your eyes and shaking your head in annoyance. “I feel stupid enough as is.”

A hand landed on your knee and Daryl’s gruff voice said “You ain’t stupid, Darlin’”

That made you smile whether you liked it or not. You looked at him through the side of your eye, leaning forward and looking at you with so much love. “Darlin’, huh?” you commented on the new pet name. You uncrossed your arms and took his hand in yours, ignoring how sticky it felt from the apple he was eating. “I could get used to that.”

“Anything I can do for you? You name it, I’ll make it happen.” Daryl said.

“Just sit with me a while.” You droned, clearly exhausted. “Before you gotta up and go again.”

“‘Course” he reassured you, kissing your knuckles. You detached your hands so he could finish his apple and you were happy to sit with him. The noise of the camp was gone and there wasn’t anything you could do, but with Daryl you always felt at ease. Though something seemed off about him. A kind of anger was boiling under your skin. Maybe he was pissed the Saviours up and left too.

Jerry arrived back on horse and was talking to Rick. You didn’t bother yourself with it but Daryl’s interest seemed to be piqued. Especially when he walked by talking rapidly into a walkie talkie. You tuned into the conversation out of curiosity.

“I need you to get an urgent message to Alexandria… If Maggie Rhee shows up, delay her at the gate and alert Michonne right away. Do not... repeat… do not let her in without an escort. Over”

“What’s happening?” You asked Daryl. He didn’t look at you as he stood up. You stood up after him and walked behind

“And, Maggie, if you're listening… let's talk.” Rick tucked the walkie back into his belt.

“Hey. What’s goin’ on?” Daryl asked as he approached.

“Maggie's headed to Alexandria.” Rick explained.

“Is that bad?” You asked.

“She's about do something she might regret.” Rick explained further, grabbing the horse.

“Hop on. I'll take you.” Daryl said.

“You sure? We got enough fuel?” Rick asked, already moving to Daryl’s bike

“Yeah. We’ll get there quicker.” Daryl said, climbing onto the bike. “I’ll be back soon, Darlin’” he called to you.

“Better be in one piece” you shot back.

“I’ll make sure of it, Y/N!” Rick replied. You watched as they took off down the road, leaving you in a crumbling camp.

You wandered around the camp, finding the Alexandrians had left too and what was left of hill top and oceanside were scattered with talk of leaving. You eventually came upon Carol. She was packing up with a group you recognised as the kingdom's people. “You leaving too?” You called, grabbing her attention. You settled onto the heel of your feet and placed your hands into the back pockets of your hips, watching as she asked a nearby man to finish packing up the crate.

“This place is bust, Y/N” She said, walking towards you. “I know you tried earlier but-”

“Yeah” you hissed through your teeth. “I get it.” She looked away, seemingly embarrassed. “You're going back to the kingdom I see.”

“There’s room on the wagon if you want” Carol offered, seemingly remorseful.

“No.” You replied “I told Sanctuary I’d be back.”

Carol shook her head in disbelief then chuckled as she threw her head to the sky then back to you. “I don’t get it. You hated it there!” She expressed while you nodded along in agreement. “But you wanna go back?”

‘I was trying to cover my ass but now everyone who knows me is dead’ you thought. Though that wouldn’t fly. Your childhood made you an adept liar though. ‘No granny those aren’t vomit stains on the carpet I just spilled my porridge. Yes, I eat porridge now.’

“I was scared. And lonely. But in time it got less so.” you explained, not breaking eye-contact. “I don’t know the Saviours you knew, but the ones I know appreciate my work. And they’ve got nothing. I had nothing and Daryl came to me, gave me a shot. I wanna extend that to them.”

“We won’t help,” Carol said. “Too many people were hurt.”

“Well if you’re gonna turn away starving children and hard working people,” You retorted. “We’ll go elsewhere.”

“You’re a horrible liar,” Carol chuckled.

“Right back at ya,” you turned to leave and pack your things when Carol called you. She came up to you and offered you a revolver and a belt holster.

“You’ll need it,” she said. You took the belt and weapon.

“Thanks, Carol.” You said. She pulled you into a hug that you returned with gusto then parted so you could pack your things.

You didn’t have much, mainly your knife and the clothing on your back but Enid had forgotten some valuable supplies in the infirmary. Between that, the change of clothes you had and a couple apples you had hidden away in your tent for later, your bag was bare.

You were about to set out and start dismantling one of the tents to bring back when you heard bullets fly. You immediately got low to the floor and pulled out your gun, checking if it was loaded.

The rounds sounded too rapid to be one sided. You walked out the back of the tent and noticed the shoot out. It was a small group of saviours going after Carol’s group. You took a deep breath and ran out of the tent and behind a nearby tree, then peered out the side and took two quick shots at the group. You managed to hit one and the larger group was now caught off guard. In the time it took you to unload the barrel you downed another two and the fire fight had ended with Carol’s group victorious and a number of the Saviours running back into the woods. They disappeared as quickly as they appeared. You ran over to Carol’s group.

“Is everyone alright?” You asked.

“They got Fred!” one of the hilltoppers yelled. You looked at the armoured body and knew in an instant he was gone from the axe wound alone.

“You gotta come with us,” Carol said to you. “The shots would’ve attracted the herd.”

“Alexandria’s the safest bet with the way that herd is moving” Jerry put in.

“Alexandria it is then,” you agreed, helping load up now. The tents were abandoned. Someone from Oceanside radioed that the camp wasn’t safe but no one checked for a response. Everything was loaded up and the carriages were moved.

Off in Alexandria, in someone else’s world. Maggie entered the dark basement cell. Her face was illuminated by what little light creeped between the shutters. Negan chuckled.

“Aw, she just gave up the keys, huh?” He jested “It's a shame. She got the blade, but you...You got the fire. My money was on you.”

Maggie looked into his cell. He sat on his bed, shrouded in darkness. “So you remember me.” She spoke into the darkness”

“'Course I do.” Negan Replied “It's why I thought you were gonna win.”

“Good.” Maggie swallowed hard, emboldening her resolve. This was it, she was going to give this monster what he deserved. “Get on your knees.”

“You know, I remember you screamin' in that clearing.” Negan muled aloud, standing up and walking closer to the bars yet not completely out of the darkness “I remember how much I broke you breakin' open your husband's head like I did.”

“Glenn.” Maggie snapped “His name was Glenn.”

“So now what? You finally come for…” Negan paused for intentional dramatic effect “revenge?”

“Justice.”

“Damn.” Negan gasped “Thought you'd do this a hell of a lot sooner. It take you this long to work up your nerve?

“I was always gonna settle this,” Maggie retorted, her voice growing in volume “what you did to my husband. Get on your knees.”

“What I did to him?” Negan pressed “You mean how I cracked open his skull and popped out his goddamn eyeball? How I bashed his big, beautiful brains into the ground over and over while you and his little friends watched? Is that what you mean?

“Ah, I used to say that I didn't enjoy killin'.” Negan sighed with satisfaction “That was a lie. Your old man… Christ, I forgot his name again. But he was different. Killin' him the way I did, ooh, now, that was fun.”

Maggie pressed the key into the lock, the teeth rolling over the internal mechanisms echoing in the dark cell. Negan took to his knees, as had been requested of him.

“Get to it. Have your justice. Kill me. It was worth it.”

“Lemme see you in the light.” Maggie demanded.

“Come on.” Negan beckoned her on “Kill me.” She turned the key, the lock clicking loudly. “You not have it in you?” Negan teased “Don't you punk out like Rick.”

“Come into the light.” Maggie demanded again.

“Kill me. This is what you came here for!” Negan demanded, his tone becoming desperate “You kill me!”

“Move into the light.” Maggie spook through her teeth, peeved.

“Kill me.” Negan’s head went down and he began to cry. Maggie finally lost her patience, pulling the door open and tearing Negan from his cell and into what little light there was in the room.

“Please. Please.” Negan began to beg. He was disheveled and cowering on the floor in a useless pile. “Please kill me.

“Why?” Maggie asked

“You have to. Just do it.”

“You tell me why!” Maggie began to yell at him “Tell me! Why should I?!”

“So I can be with my family!” Negan cried out “So I can be with Lucille! And with my Y/N!” Negan sobbed silently.

“I should be dead.” He began to ramble “I have to be dead. And it's supposed to be you. It has to be you, because I can't do it. I can't do it. I've tried. I can't. I can't be like this. Please, please don't make me stay like this. It's... Settle it.” He was so distraught every other word he was gasping for air. “Settle me. Kill me. Please.”

“Get back in your cell.” Maggie ordered

“No.” Negan protested from the floor where he lay “No. No. No.” He sobbed “Why?”

“I came to kill Negan,” Maggie said “and you're already worse than dead. That settles it.” Negan hid his face as he sobbed “Go.” she ordered.

He knew better than to argue with her, especially how she pulled him out of the cell without breaking a sweat. “It wasn't supposed to be like this.” He protested weakly, “It wasn't supposed to be like this.”

With that Maggie locked the gate and left the cell, content that her husband’s murderer was suffering.

“What the hell was that?” One of the kingdom’s people said when they were far enough away, clearly talking to you. In their eyes you were the last saviour. They strode up behind you.

“I don’t know” You muttered, pulling one of the horses along the road

You were walking as fast as you can, basically dragging the horses and carriages and this man wanted to fight. “What do you mean you don’t know!”

“I don’t know!” You yelled back, continuing to move. “People do stupid shit when they’re scared!”

“They killed Fred!”

“We killed them!” You finally let go of the horse and turned around to face the man. “And you’ve been killing them for a long time!”

“You don’t know what they-”

“The war?” You cut him off “I know that there is a factory full of people who are starving, working their ass off to get you ethanol, and have no protection.” You were too caught in the moment to notice the wagon train had stopped moving and too angry to hear Jerry and Carol calling to you “Not fighters! Workers! People who didn’t get a chance to defend themselve in your precious fucking war and are paying the price for it!”

Horses trotted up to meet you halfway in the road. You recognised Maggie, Eugene, Tara, and Michone and a few others. Daryl rode up from the back of the group on his bike.

“What happened?” Maggie rode up to the group and asked Carol.

“Saviours jumped us. Ended up shooting each other.” Carol explained. “The gun fire could’ve attracted the herd so we left.”

“Where’s Rick?” Daryl asked.

“He’s not with you?” You shot back.

“What if he headed back to the camp?” Beatrice, a girl from Oceanside, pitched. You could feel the panic set in the group. Daryl disembarked from his bike.

“I know a shortcut. Come on!” He lead the way into the forest. You and a large group instantly took off on foot, following him closely. Within minutes you were back at the bridge to a horrifying sight.

Countless walkers were crossing the bridge. The herd was so thick no sunlight was travelling through and standing at the end of the bridge, with all those walkers heading right towards him, was Rick. Daryl already had his bow out and was picking off the walkers that got too close to his friend.

“What is he doing?!” Maggie yelled.

“He's hurt!” Michone cried. You noticed his clothes were soaked in blood

“That herd that went right through Hilltop.” Daryl gasped “He's trying to bring down the bridge.”

In the next instant Michone had her sword out and was running towards the herd. You called after her and ran after her.

“We turn them around. Fight 'em back.” Maggie followed close behind you

“Fire your guns.” Carol ordered “Try to divert them.

Michone called to Rick as you all ran to the herd, but a moment later the herd caught in flames. Michone stumbled back as the orange heat climbed above your heads. She stood there a moment, shocked into place. You looked through the flames and felt yourself thrown back into your army days.

Rubble and sand were all around you. The air was heavy with debris. It was you, five other servicemen and countless civilians trapped into a crumbling building while bullets flew outside. Children were crying and parents could do nothing to calm them. There was a moment of calm. A moment to get the group through a gap in the rock fall near the back of the building. You got them through while the others lay down ground fire, keeping the enemy at bay. You pulled yourself through the hole after the last of the civilians made it out and went about helping your fellow soldier. They were nearly clear when an explosion went off in the building and you were both sent backwards. You could feel the heat from the explosion on your face, but your ally could feel their life seeping out of their lost leg. He screamed out in complete agony.

The same way Michone screamed out. When you felt yourself come back you noticed Maggie and Carol were holding her back and you had fallen to the ground.

“Y/N!” Tara yelled to you, pulling the rest of you into the present “We have to go!” You nodded rapidly and pulled yourself to your feet. You all retreated back a ways so the herd wouldn’t come to you right away.

“I need to find him,” Michone sobbed. “I need to help him.”

The smoke was rising above them in thick clouds. The radio was going crazy with people who were seeing the smoke.

“What was that?”

“Was that the bridge?”

One of the people with you got on the radio. “Rick!” he called breathlessly “He blew it to stop the herd!”

Everyone around you was in shock and crying horribly. These people had followed Rick, and now they seemed lost. You were in no way a leader but-

“We can look downstream.” You spoke up. Pale and contorted faces looked back at you. “If he fell in the water he’ll be downstream… If he got hit by the blow back he’ll be on the road bu-”

“You heard her.” A man with long hair in a bun and a beard. His face was red but he was already tired of crying “Downstream.”

“I gotta-” Michon spoke, shaking as she got back to her feet. The man beckoned her. In the next moment a small group had run past to look downstream.

“I gotta go to Sanctuary” You announced to those left. Carol nodded, tears streaming down her face. “They gotta know what happened here.”

“Go,” she croaked out, “and bring them back to kingdom.” Beatrice immediately got angry at the notion but before she could speak Carol silenced her. “Without that bridge they’ll starve. Rick didn’t fight for that.” Carol looked back at you. “Go.”

~Tag List~

@felicisimor @bodeckersbitch @lauren-novak @aestthete

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mosswillow · 3 years

Text

Useless - Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader (part two)

Warnings: 18+ Adult content!, Werewolves, A/B/O, Possessive behavior, Dark, Non con/dub con, Forced marriage, power imbalance, general misogyny, Punishments, spanking, smut, violence, oral (male receiving) .

Summary: “Trying to fight this is useless doll, we’ll always end up right back here.” You’re the bottom of the pack, an Omega, and Steve has chosen you for his mate.

Word count: 3.4k.

The pain is all consuming, devouring you from the inside out. It’s the first thing you notice when coming to. A chill wrecks through your body adding another layer to the dull aches and stabbing pains that radiate everywhere. Wolves heal fast and you’re used to being better within hours of getting hurt. You’ve never been this damaged though, never experienced this level of pain. You groan as you open your eyes.

“Hey sweetie, how are you feeling?”

You’ve known Bruce Banner forever. He’s like a big brother. He held you after you presented as an Omega, let you cry in his arms and told you everything would be ok. He’s been there for you ever since. Waking up to him instead of Steve gives you a sense of comfort and you relax a tiny bit.

“Everything hurts.”

Bruce holds your hand and gives you a sad look.

“Why didn’t you just submit?”

You don’t answer and Bruce continues.

“Everyone is so hurt you know? Some of the wolves who had to watch came back in tears and most of them still refuse to even talk about what happened.”

Anger rises in you. You’re the one who was almost killed. You’re the one being forced to mate someone against your will. They sat by and watched while Steve almost beat you to death. You feel no sympathy for anyone who watched what happened.

“It was my right.”

“Having the right to run doesn’t change how others will view your actions. We care about you Y/N. We don’t like seeing you hurt like this. And if you had actually succeeded we may never have seen you again. You’re a tiny little Omega. You wouldn’t last out there and you know it.”

“I’m strong,” you say in a quiet voice.

“Your will is strong...”

He gives you a kiss on the forehead.

“...But your body is weak.”

He checks your temperature and writes it down on a piece of paper beside your bed.

“You have a fever. I’m not worried about it yet but we do need to keep an eye on it. You really did a number on yourself.”

“I didn’t do this to myself.”

Bruce rolls his eyes.

“You have nobody but yourself to blame.”

You sigh and turn your head away.

“When can I go home?”

Bruce ignores your question effectively giving you an answer. Steve won’t let you go home, not after what happened the night before. Bruce goes into his bag and pulls out two pill bottles, shaking out a few pills from each.

“Here, take these.”

“What are they?”

“That one is a pain reliever and the other one is a sedative.”

You shake your head.

“I don’t want them.”

“They’ll help your wolf take over. You’ll heal twice as fast with them.”

“I don’t want to be healed faster.”

Bruce raises his eyebrows. He understands your meaning. The longer you take to heal the longer you have to think of your next move. They won’t let you go, not anymore. If you leave it will be against pack laws. A message will go out to every pack in the world asking them to look for you. Leaving is much more complicated now. You need time to consider if it’s even something you want to do.

“Don’t do this sweetie, just be a good girl for once, ok?”

“Can I have a little time at least first?” Your mind is running with your options and you don’t want to be put out again.

“No.” Steve's voice is deep and commanding. He walks through the bedroom door and pats Bruce on the back. Steve gives you a look that makes you want to run or hide or do anything you can to get away from him. Fighting him made you really realize just how much bigger and stronger he is.

“Thank you Bruce. I’ll see you later.”

“I wouldn’t leave her alone.” Bruce eyes you wearily.

“I won’t”

Bruce kisses your forehead before leaving.

You watch Steve take his shirt off and throw it into a laundry basket. There’s a bite mark on his arm. It’s deep and still not even close to being healed, You got one in and that’s impressive. He slides into bed next to you and you wince as he runs his hands over your bruises.

“I can move past this.”

He expects you to apologize but you bite your tongue and close your eyes. Steve reaches over you grabbing a glass of water and the pills Bruce left.

“Take your medicine.”

You let him place the pills in your mouth and gulp them down with the water. He grips your jaw gently and you open up showing you swallowed. Whatever Bruce gave you is powerful and it doesn’t take long for the pain to start receding and your eyes to get heavy.

“That’s it doll, you need to sleep.”

---

“I heard it was rough.”

“I could barely watch, she just kept getting up.”

“Is she going to be ok Bruce?”

“I’m keeping an eye on everything...”

“What is it?”

“She’ll try to run again. I know her, I can tell.”

“Even after we brand her?”

“The brand won’t deter her, it will just piss her off.”

“Do you think we shouldn’t do it?”

“I think it’s worth the risk, she’ll try either way but with the brand she’s less likely to get far.”

“She’s always been a strong willed little thing. We should have dealt with this much earlier”

“I’ve never liked saying no to her.”

“the rebellion has always been endearing.”

“Letting her get that job with the humans was our biggest mistake. She has these ideas of independence now.”

“We’ll have to watch her closely for the next few months...”

“...She’s waking up.”

You open your eyes and see a group of wolves standing beside your bed. You know all the pack Alphas individually but have never been alone in a room with all of them. Tony is like a second father and Carol like a mother despite the fact that neither of them are all that much older than you. Most of their scolding in the past has been almost playful. The look they give you now is more serious than you’ve ever seen them. Sam and Thor are like big brothers, always teasing and playing with you. You’ve gotten into plenty of trouble with them in the past. Having them now standing over you instead of with you is scary. You can tell that your relationship with them will never be the same. You try to sit up and whimper as pain shoots through your body. Bruce runs to your side and gently pushes you down.

“Just lie still sweetheart.”

“Why is everyone here?”

They exchange looks.

“Why do you think we’re here?” Tony asks.

“Because I ran?”

“Yes honey, because you ran.” Carol says.

“You need to understand that when you live in a pack you have to give up certain liberties.” Sam says

“I don’t want to be in the pack though. I was going to leave. I knew what I was doing.”

“Sweety, you were never going to leave. How many rogue Omegas have you met?” Carol asks.

“It’s our responsibility as your pack to take care of our Omegas. No pack would ever let one go, it’s disgraceful. Look at yourself Y/N, You can’t take care of yourself out there. We wouldn’t be good Alphas if we let you do whatever you wanted.” Tony says.

A brand is brought out and you shake your head as fast as your sore body will let you.

“You didn’t think there wouldn’t be consequences to your stunt?” Steve says.

You didn’t. You thought the worst that would happen would be ending up in the same position as before. You accepted that you would be hurt fighting an Alpha but branding is not something you thought they would ever do.

“Nobody brands anymore, It’s inhumane.”

“Nobody runs either.” Thor sits next to you and picks your hand up.

“If I was an Alpha…”

“You’re not an Alpha,” Tony says sternly.

You look at your Alphas and pull your blanket over your face. Thor pulls it back and Tony crouches beside the bed.

“We ignored your behavior for a long time and that’s on us. We should have started punishing you years ago. We failed. We didn’t give you what you needed as an Omega and it got us here. We’re not going to make that mistake again. You’re not an Alpha or a Beta Y/N, you’re an Omega. We need to treat you like one,” Tony says.

The brand is just another thing on your list of body parts that hurt. Bruce comes each day to change the bandage where they branded your arm. He checks your temperature and makes sure you’re eating and drinking. Within a few days you start feeling better, getting up for short walks, and within the week Your bruises turn from deep blues and purples to lighter greens and yellows.

“How do you feel?”

“Much better.”

“I think you’re out of the woods. You can resume activities now just take it easy for another week to be sure. I’ll be back tomorrow to check on you again.”

“I’m not ready Bruce.”

“It’s going to be ok.”

Bruce walks out of the room. You hear the quiet voices of him with Steve and dread what comes next.

You stand up and pace as you wait. Steve walks in and you back up to the wall. He’s barely talked to you all week. At first you thought it was just because he’s angry. Then you started noticing the bulge in his pants and the long showers and realized he’s just been trying not to fuck you until Bruce gives the all clear. He walks over to you and leans in smelling your neck. You flinch involuntarily and take a few shaking breaths.

“You’re scared of me,” he says.

You look down ashamed.

“That’s progress.”

you press yourself into the wall as if you could push yourself through to the other side.

“I have something for you.” Steve hands you a package and you open it pulling out a dark green chemise.

He puts a hand on your cheek and leans in for a kiss. He’s more gentle than you expected giving you little pecks on your cheek and nose.

“I got a lot of pretty things for you to wear.”

He kisses your forehead.

“Why don’t you put it on for me.”

You know he meant for you to change in front of him but you go to the bathroom instead and he doesn’t say anything. You look at your body in the mirror. You’ve lost weight and more importantly muscle mass. There are still multiple bruises healing across your body. You look down at the brand they gave you and back at your eyes. It’s an archaic practice, branding wolves. It used to be common for unruly wolves but doesn’t happen often anymore. The mark lets every other pack know that you’re a runaway. If you run and any wolf, even a rogue, sees the mark on your arm they’ll do everything they can to get you back to where you belong.

“come out and show me.” You hear from the bedroom.

You take a deep breath and splash your face before walking out. Your heart is beating so loudly you’re sure Steve can hear it from the other side of the room.

“I knew the green would look good on you.”

Steve looks you up and down as he walks toward you slowly. He glides his hands down your body and lifts you, placing you on the bed.

“I’ve been waiting so long for this.”

He flips you over without warning and You press your head to the bed. He pulls down your underwear and puts his knee in between your legs pushing them apart. You feel one hand on your back and one in between your legs. His finger glides over your clit before dipping into your pussy. He pumps his finger in and out slowly while his other hand presses down on your back.

“There you go, you’re doing great.”

You start losing yourself in the sensation, chasing an orgasm. He pulls away, replacing his fingers with his dick and pushes in slowly stretching you.

You start to panic and seize up but Steve holds you down, thrusting into you harder. You cry out in pain and he shushes you.

“Take it.” He says into your ear as he gives a hard thrust.

His hot breath is on your back and before you know it he’s biting down marking you forever.

It’s almost like a virus but instead of your body fighting it off it overwhelms you, changing you from the inside out. You will have this bond with Steve forever. The feeling pushes you into an unexpected orgasm and you arch your back. Your pussy clenches around Steve and he comes inside of you. Both of you are still for a few minutes in the wake of what just happened. You start shaking and wiggle out from under Steve, crawling into the middle of the bed and curling into a ball. Steve gently moves you so you’re under the blanket. He crouches beside you and looks at the mark he left. It will scar over. Every wolf who sees it will know you’ve been taken. There’s an almost drug-like calm that having your Alphas cum inside of you gives you but the pleasure you feel is overshadowed by the stress of everything. You start crying softly.

“hey, none of that.” Steve says. He wipes your tears away and slides into bed with you, engulfing you in his arms. You press yourself against him and he rubs your back

Steve doesn’t let you out of the house for two full weeks. Every part of your life is filled with him. Every little misstep and rebelion is squashed down immediately. It’s stifling.

You sit looking out the window one morning and Steve walks over to you, pulling you into his lap. You lean against him and trace circles on the back of his hand.

“You’re getting better.” He says proudly.

You’re not getting better, you're getting smarter. You’re biding your time until you can run. You’ll carry marks of this pack for your whole life. You’ll experience anxiety and depression but it will be your choice. If you ever come back it will be your choice. That’s all you’ve ever wanted, a choice.

Steve gets a text and pushes you off to read it without you seeing. He shakes his head and looks at you apologetically.

“I have to deal with some pack business.”

“Oh?” you try not to seem happy.

Steve grabs the back of your neck, holding it so you can’t look away.

“Stay inside until I get back.”

“Yes Alpha.”

He lets you go and quickly gets his stuff together. You watch him leave from the window and start roaming around looking for anything that could help you escape. You open a cabinet and move some tools aside, finding a pair of handcuffs. You stare at them for several minutes letting the knowledge that they exist wash over you. There’s no doubt in your mind that Steve wouldn’t hesitate to put you in these. You won’t hesitate either. You put them back where you found them and walk to the front door.

You’re not going to run right now. You know you won’t make it far on foot and Steve took the car. You just want to rebel a little bit. You want to show yourself that you’re strong enough to do something your Alpha told you not to. something your mate explicitly forbade.

You open the door and take one liberating step out. You feel free.

“Y/N.”

You look up to see Bucky Barns. He motions for you to get back in the house and follows you in. Bucky has been your friend since birth.

“I wasn’t going to run.”

Bucky pulls out his phone and types a quick text. He motions for you to sit on the couch.

“Please Buck, I swear I wasn’t running.”

“Hey, I don’t like this either but the Alphas gave strict orders for you.”

He gets a text and reads it scratching his chin. He gives you an apologetic look and you scoot away from him.

He grabs you quickly pushing you down over his knee and landing a hard smack on your bottom. It’s humiliating. You’ve never had this kind of relationship with Bucky. He’s always been an easy going Alpha and one of the only ones you’ve ever felt truly comfortable around. You try your hardest to get out of his lap but he keeps giving harder and harder spankings. You’re not sure how many it ends up being, only that he doesn’t quit until after you give up physically and emotionally. He pulls you into his arms and shushes you.

“You get why we have to do this right?”

You hug him back and nod. It’s working. You know that if you don’t get out you’ll eventually give in to all of it. Bucky holds you until Steve returns.

“Thanks Bucky.”

“Any time.” Bucky moves you out of his lap and makes his way to the front door.

You pull your legs up against your chest and watch Steve take off his shoes and hang up his jacket. He slowly rolls his sleeves up and crosses his arms.

“I’m sorry.” you whisper.

Steve walks toward you slowly and crouches down. He doesn’t say anything and the silence fills you with anxiety. He runs the back of his hand over your face before pulling your arms off of your knees. He stands up and undoes his jeans, pulling out his hardening cock. It twitches and grows and he grabs under your jaw, pulling you up towards his cock. You open up and he pushes into your mouth. He doesn’t say anything as he fucks your mouth. You close your eyes and try not to think about the feeling between your legs. He comes down your throat and pulls away from you still not talking to you. He walks to the kitchen and gets you a glass of water setting it on the end table next to the couch. You lie down and he places a blanket over you.

“Don’t leave the couch until I tell you to.”

This time you listen.

---

You lie awake in bed staring at the ceiling. Don’t hesitate.

Steve starts snoring gently and you pick his hand up and drop it. He doesn’t wake up and you jump out of bed and tiptoe to the living room. You fill your bag with whatever you think you can possibly need and head to where you found the handcuffs. You hold them in your shaky hands and take a breath. Don’t hesitate.

Steve wakes up the moment you close the shackle on his wrist. He reaches out for you and you run.

“Do not dare leave this house Y/N,” He yells as you reach the door.

You falter at the command. Fighting an Alpha command is like walking through glass. Every step cuts into you. It gets easier once you shut the door behind you. His voice still makes you want to turn around and go back but it’s much easier to fight now. You take his car, forcing yourself to drive at a normal speed so that nobody is suspicious.

You park at a train station several towns over but run half a mile and take a bus out of town instead of the train. You change busses at random making your way across the country.

You stare at the brand they gave you. You’ll have to be careful. They won’t stop hunting you and if they catch you you’ll never get away again. Your life now is one of running and hiding but also one of freedom and adventure. You don’t know what’s coming next. You let yourself be hopeful for the first time since you presented as an Omega. Your designation doesn’t define you. The wolves who claimed you, who owned you don’t define you. You decide what you want in life now.

How many rogue Omegas have you heard of?

“One.”

PART THREE

AN - This ending feels nice... but I also have a third part in my head. I’m debating if I want Steve to come get his Omega or not. LMK what Y’all think about ending it here vs. having the reader caught.

#dark!fic #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x reader #alpha!steve rogers #alpha!steve #Werewolf!Steve Rogers

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twdmusicboxmystery · 3 years

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TD Clues in the S11 Preview Special

Hey Everyone!

Who watched the S11 preview show? I did, and there were actually some fairly heavy TD clues in it. (Yay!)

I only got to watch it once live, and didn’t have the option to record it, so I probably missed stuff. If anyone noticed anything I didn’t, feel free to send it in. I’ll focus on 3 major things that jumped out at me.

So, Angela Kang was in the studio with Chris Hardwick, but Norman was there only via satellite from Georgia.

@wdway noticed that the music box was still sitting on the shelf behind Angela, which was cool.

1. The first big clue we noticed came from Norman. Chris had asked him something like, how is this season was different from previous ones, or how has filming been different. Norman said everything was brighter and more colorful than usual.

I think he probably means because of the Commonwealth. If you think of the CW sales video we saw in the coda of the trailer, everything looks new and clean and nice, and doesn’t have the bleak, dirty vibe of most of the rest of the show. Then he said (and I paraphrase) that a lot of it felt like they’d all “eaten the wrong mushrooms.” And by that, he means something hallucinatory. And that it seemed “like the Wizard of Oz.”

Yeah, massive hints going on there.

There has been a subtle but recurring mushroom theme in the show. It’s part of the overall hallucination theme, but goes back at least until S4 (you know, when Bethyl came from and center). It might be earlier than that, too, but that’s the earliest reference that comes to mind.

Either way, Norman is furthering the idea of hallucinations and things not being as they seem.

And then there’s the wizard of Oz reference. I’ve literally done entire theories on this (X), (X). We saw it around Beth at Grady and also around Rick right before the bridge incident, where he disappeared into the CRM. Because of the way it’s used in both cases, I think the Wizard of Oz motif is specifically about the CRM. Dorothy was transported away from her family and to a whole new world. The same thing happened to both Beth and Rick and both times they went to a community with ties to the CRM.

The hallucination theme is also present in TWOO. People have written whole essays about how trippy the whole thing is and how it feels like an acid trip for Dorothy. That’s not the way it’s written in the show, but of course this film came out in 1939. For Dorothy, it was an elaborate dream. But that just makes me think of episode 6x12 of Fear the Walking Dead where an almost identical thing happened with Grace and the episode is even called In Dreams.

And I’m not at all saying the CRM isn’t real. I’m just saying they’re using these things as themes and we saw them back in S5 around Beth. I’ll have more to say about this theme next week when I discuss episode 11x01.

2. The next thing that struck us as suspicious is that Chris asked Norman, with this being the final season, what does he want for Daryl?

Norman replied that wants Daryl to find happiness and “what he’s looking for.” And he very clearly meant emotionally. You could argue that he meant romantically but it could also just be in terms of life and familial relationships.

But you could also argue that he already has most of that. He has strong family and community relationships. He’s helping raise two kids. (In fact, very small spoiler for 11x01: at one point Daryl returns to Alexandria and we see both Judith and RJ run out and hug him. It’s very sweet. The point is, he pretty much IS their father for the time being.) And he has closer “family” relationships with those he’s closest to: Maggie, Michonne, Carol, Aaron.

So, the only thing he’s truly missing is the romantic element.

@wdway also pointed out that the way Norman said it, it very much feels like something futuristic. Something he currently doesn’t have in his life. (Sorry Caryl and Donnie shippers.)

So yeah. That, and the “what he’s looking for” wording definitely made us side-eye.

3. Finally, near the end, we saw a sneak peek that comes from 11x02, and Dog enters a Dark Tunnel.

The sneak peak is Daryl and Dog, alone together in the subway tunnels. Daryl finds a walker rolled up inside a sleeping bag, which he kills, and then Dog starts barking at something and runs away from Daryl, into a small, dark side tunnel.

So, the dark tunnel symbolism is HUGE around Beth and I’ve got theories about Dark Tunnel symbolism that are YEARS old (X).

And, until next week when everyone sees 11x01 and I’m safe to talk about it, you’ll just have to take my word for this, but they’re definitely using an S4/S5 Beth template for Dog this season. We already know from what’s been released about the season that Dog and Daryl will get separated and he’ll go looking for Dog. We already knew that. But when you see 11x01, it becomes even more evident.

So, Dog heading into a dark tunnel just backs up the Beth template even more.

But then, when they came back to TTD after the sneak peek, Norman started singing a song. Okay, I have no idea what it was. I didn’t recognize the tune and he did it very quickly. (If anyone knows what it was, let me know.) Chris clearly recognized it and started laughing, razzing Norman about how of all the songs he could possibly have parodied, he used that one. So, the lyrics weren’t real. Norman was making them up, overall.

But wanna know what lyrics he sang? He said (once again, I paraphrase) something like, “When Doggy goes into the tunnel, I know things are serious.”

So, he not only emphasized the importance of Dog entering the dark tunnel, he actually turned it into a serious/Sirius/return reference.

Me: 😲

Okay, those were the three big things that jumped out at me. 1) Hallucination/Mushroom/Wizard of Oz references. Yes, all in one sentence. 2) Daryl finding happiness and “what he’s looking for.” 3) Dog in the tunnel = Sirius.

As I said at the beginning, there were probably other, smaller things I missed, but these were the ones that made me super happy.

Thoughts?

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

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fanficimagery · 4 years

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Take on the World; pt. 1

Anonymous asked: can I request something where the reader falls asleep on Rick's lap or something and the group is in awe of the two of them?

Words: 3.4K Warnings: Requests? What are those? Turns out I don't know how to make someone appear "in awe" and forgot how to fulfill someone’s request. JFC why was this so hard? Also after I started writing this, I saw the second message where you requested no Alexandria. I'm sorry to admit I had already included this particular safe haven and didn't know how to rewrite it. Mentions past violence/trauma.

The first couple of days at Alexandria are not as relaxing as one would hope for. Yes the place is a goddamn luxury resort compared to what you and your group are used to, but after everything you've been through you can't help but be suspicious. Because after literal years of running for your lives and putting your life on the line to defend whatever safe haven your group ended up finding, a place like Alexandria should not exist.

But it does and every single person in your group, with the exception of Father Gabriel, can't seem to relax. You and your large group have been given a few houses and nearly an entire block to spread out in, but you've all congregated together in two houses and refuse to wander too far from one another. It was hard to decide who went where, but Rick managed to do it without any problems. He instructed Michonne to take Tara, Rosita, Abraham, Eugene, Sasha, and Father Gabriel into one house while he himself took on Carl, Judith, you, Daryl, Carol, Glenn, and Maggie. No one fussed and seemed to be a little at ease during the day, but when night fell that's when everyone's guard went back up.

It also doesn't help that the couple of days you've been here, everyone's been called into Deanna's office for a bullshit interview so she could decide which job best fit your skills. Jobs? Skill sets? The goddamn dead were walking around eating people and Deanna was trying to fill in a teaching position for the teenagers in the secluded little town.

The locals are wary, and have every right to be after the way you all showed up, but a few of them have managed to be welcoming and bring in extra food to feed everyone and extra clothes so you could all bathe the blood and trauma away. Huh. Fat chance.

But though you've showered and managed to change into some clean, comfortable clothes, you still can't seem to sit still and rest.

A floorboard creaks and you whirl around, reaching for a knife that's no longer strapped to your thigh. Stupid Deanna and her rules!

A cleanly shaven and trimmed Rick chuckles, stepping out of the shadows and into the hallway you were pacing in as he holds his hands up in mock surrender. You frown at him, sighing, and then tiredly grin as you lean against the wall. "What's-her-face finally got a hold of you, I see. Daryl up next?"

"Carol wishes," he muses. "If he doesn't take a shower soon, I'm pretty sure she's going to hose him down in the front yard just so she can wash his current clothes." You huff a quiet laugh, shaking your head in amusement. Rick smiles at you, but that smile falls as he steps closer and lowers his voice. "When was the last time you slept, Y/N?"

You grimace and cross your arms over your chest. "I sleep."

"Ten minutes every few hours is not good and you know it." Guilty, you avert your gaze. "It's three in the morning. You should be asleep."

"Yeah? Well so should you." Meeting his gaze then, your stomach swoops at the fond expression he's staring at you with. Rick Grimes is a can of worms you closed after the fallout of the prison because that's when everything really started to go wrong for your group, but it seems that behind the walls of Alexandria those worms are trying to burst free. You lightly clear your throat and kick at one of his booted feet. "I'll sleep when you sleep, oh fearless leader."

He smirks. "Fine. Lets get some sleep then."

Immediately, your smile falls. "What?"

Rick grabs you by the wrist and starts to drag you towards the living room where everyone is camped out at. Daryl is reclined in the only recliner, Carol and Judith are on the loveseat, Carl, Glenn, and Maggie are on the couch, and there's a mattress that's been pushed up in the corner of the room. Everyone is currently sound asleep, so Rick quietly kicks off his boots and gestures for you to do the same. You do and then try not to squirm when he sits down on the mattress with his back against the wall only to drag a pillow into his lap and pat it as if he's expecting you to lay your head there.

"Come on," he tells you. "I got some sleep earlier. I can doze on and off while you actually get some sleep. I'll keep watch if I have to." Oh. He really is expecting you to just lay your head in his lap.

"Rick.." You hesitate and he grins wider. The shake of his head, however, tells you he won't let this go. So heaving a small sigh, you step onto the mattress and then lower yourself so you're curled up with your head on the pillow in his lap. Immediately one of his hands goes to tuck your hair behind your ear and you huff at him. "You're ridiculous."

"And you're running yourself ragged. Go to sleep."

You shift a little to get more comfortable, your body traitorously relaxing as Rick's fingers delve into your hair and lightly scratch at your scalp. Your heart warms and your eyelids flutter shut, taking longer and longer to reopen as the minutes tick by until you're eventually asleep.

Rick's hand seems to have a mind of its own as he continues to scratch Y/N's scalp, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips when she snorts and then grumbles in her sleep. Eventually though his thoughts drift off and he can't help but think back to when he had met her.

Rick had first laid eyes on Y/N at the quarry back in Georgia. He'd been so wrapped up at being reunited with his family that he didn't get further in knowing her other than the fact that she'd been a friend of Glenn's from work. Then the farm happened, loyalties were tested as a swarm of the dead demolished their little safe haven, and everyone nearly starved to death while on the run before finding the prison.

The prison was the safest haven they had, but also the one place with a bunch of terrible memories. The only good thing that actually came out of the prison was that, that was when Rick really took notice of Y/N and how much she gave so their family of misfits were as comfortable as can be. He's ashamed to admit that's when he started to develop feelings for her because a very hormonal Lori wasn't making things easy on him, but then their safety was put in jeopardy by a spurned ex-inmate they'd let loose and no one had time to think about intimacy.

Lori had given birth to a daughter everyone knew wasn't biologically Rick's, and died in the process after being secluded away from everyone because of an invasion of the dead. Rick lost himself to his grief for a few weeks after, but Y/N was there to unknowingly pull him back together piece by piece. Not once did her trust in him waver, nor did she blame him for turning away strangers when they had found their way into the prison. In the world they lived in, one had to be extremely careful with who they trusted to let around their family.

But then the Governor tried to take the prison by force, lives were lost, the group was split up, and the prison was basically given back to the dead after fences were torn down and walls were bombed open. Y/N got stuck with him, Carl, and Michonne in the chaos and that was when he noticed his feelings made a reappearance. Michonne had seen the longing looks when Y/N would try to keep Carl as safe as possible while also letting him do things on his own since being a child wasn't safe in the world they lived in now, but she would do nothing more than tease her friend about it when Y/N wasn't paying attention.

And just when things started to seem semi-okay, a group of men caught up to them which led to Daryl swooping in just in the nick of time to prevent some terrible things from happening to both Carl and Y/N. They were shaken, but happy to be reunited with a familiar face and tried to not get their hopes up when they started to see signs of a promising sanctuary for people in need. It was wishful thinking that the others missing from the group were seeing the same signs, but Rick pushed for it anyway.

Terminus ended up being a goddamn nightmare and Rick was disheartened when very familiar faces started to be shoved into the train car they were being held in.

Y/N whimpers in her sleep, startling Rick from memory lane. His fingers, which had stopped scratching, start moving again in hopes of her falling back into a peaceful slumber. But as the seconds tick by, her breathing gets heavier and faster until she's eventually gasping awake.

"Hey. Hey!" Rick quietly snaps, hoping to grab her attention without scaring her and without waking the others. "Y/N, it's okay. You're safe. We're safe. You don't have to be scared."

Your eyes take a moment to focus in the dark and when they do your breath stutters in your chest when Rick comes into focus. You sag in relief and his hands cup your face so you're only staring at him. You grasp onto his wrists to help ground yourself. "R-Rick?"

"Yeah, sweetheart. It's me. Just breathe." You do as he's requested, blinking away tears when they build up. "Where did you go just now?" He murmurs.

"T-Terminus," you exhale shakily. "I was- we were back at Terminus."

Rick's gaze subconsciously darts down to your neck and you release one of his wrists to cover the scar that resides there at the base of your throat. You had gotten it from Terminus, the cannibals who were luring people there, having tied up you, Rick, Glenn, Daryl, and Bob to dispose of first. The men were pushed to their knees on one side of an empty watering trough and you were dragged in across from them. All of your wrists were bound and bandannas had been tied around your heads and shoved into your mouths to keep your screams from being too loud.

But the second you were shoved to your knees and pushed forward to lean over the trough, your eyes widened and you started to sob. A hand gripped the back of your hair to pull your head back just so and the men from your group went wild struggling to help you. A machete had been placed at the base of your throat, but the man only got in a small slice before an explosion rocked the entire place.

"We got out of there." Rick's voice brings you back to the present and you sniffle, nodding, and you let your hand fall. He attempts to smile, but when you can't return it he pushes aside the pillow in his lap. "Come here."

Your brow furrows. "What?"

"Come here," he says again. He pulls his legs up so his knees are bent and then spreads his legs while gesturing to the space in front of him. "You need sleep and you won't sleep peacefully until you feel safe."

"Rick.."

"Nope. I don't wanna hear it. Sit in front of me and lay your back against my chest."

The longer you stare, the more you realize he's being serious. So blinking at him in surprise, you can't help but numbly crawl over to him. You're so nervous that you're actually trembling as you get into position and hesitantly lean back until you're resting against him. Rick cages you in with his arms resting on his knees until eventually he wraps them around your stomach to hold you. Your arms slowly fall atop of his and you lean your head back against his shoulder, relaxing. "Oh," you breath. "This is- this is nice."

Rick chuckles as he nudges your head with his chin. "Get some sleep, sweetheart. No one is going to harm you."

"Famous last words, Grimes. If I wake up to mayhem, I'm letting you do all the dirty work while I hide away."

His only response is to squeeze you a little tighter and you shift a little more to get comfortable enough to fall asleep once more.

The next time Rick wakes up it's because he hears someone shuffling around. His left arm tightens around Y/N while his other reaches for the Colt at his hip. Only he realizes immediately that he no longer has his gun and his eyes fly open. Almost everyone is staring at him in surprise, with the exception of Daryl who doesn't seem fazed.

"She's sleeping and letting someone touch her," Glenn says in awe. "How long has she been asleep for?"

Rick grimaces as he shifts a little, freezing when Y/N sighs in her sleep and shoves her face further into the side of his neck. Slowly but surely he stretches his legs out, exhaling softly and wrapping his second arm around her once more. "How long have you been watching?"

"About fifteen minutes," Carol muses. "We for sure thought Judith would have woken you up with her fussing."

"Was it nightmares?" Maggie asks. "She hasn't slept longer than an hour since.."

"Since Terminus," Glenn frowns. "I think we've all had trouble sleeping since then."

"Y/N more so than anyone," Daryl grumbles. He frowns, clearly remembering what he, Glenn, and Rick were witness to.

Carl stretches, smiling. "I don't know what to be more happier about: the fact that Y/N is sleeping or that my dad's finally loosened up to see what was in front of his face this entire time."

"Excuse me?" Rick says. Everyone in the room but him snickers and his grip on Y/N loosens just a little.

"Y/N has had a thing for you since the farm," Maggie admits, "but she kept it quiet because of Lori and was afraid of Shane and all his drama."

"And you've had a thing for her since we were split up after the prison." Carl grins at his dad's subtle expression of guilt. "I'm surprised it took you guys this long for anything to happen."

"But it- nothing's happened."

"You cuddling her says otherwise," Carol teases.

Rick huffs and then freezes once more when Y/N shifts.

Talking and muffled laughter is what wakes you, but you manage to stay still as everyone around you continues to talk. You do your best not to laugh at their obvious awe of you finally sleeping and then try your hardest not to blush when they call out both you and Rick for hidden feelings. Eventually though you have the urge to pee and you let your eyes flutter open, groaning slightly as you stretch your legs out and arch your back in the process.

Someone snorts and you grimace when you realize groaning was perhaps not the best thing to do while you were practically in Rick's lap. You glance around at everyone in the room, slowly leaning forward and crawling over Rick's thigh. "Hey, guys." You gulp. "Everyone sleep okay?"

Daryl smirks. "Did you?"

The room's occupants don't bother hiding their amusement. You frown at the hunter. "Get bent, Dixon." Rick chuckles at your side and you avoid his gaze. Standing then, you quickly make an excuse to flee to the upstairs bathroom. "I'll just, uh, be in the bathroom or something."

Halfway up the stairs, the front door opens and you glance over your shoulder to see the other half of the group enter the house. Sighing in relief, you hope their presence is enough to make everyone forget about you waking up in Rick's arms.

The minutes tick by and after taking a little longer than necessary in the upstairs bathroom, you finally head downstairs. You're more composed and ready for more teasing, but surprisingly the house is clear of mostly everyone. Carol is there trying to figure something out for lunch, Tara and Glenn are playing a board game, and Eugene is browsing the books that were already on the shelves in the living room. Carol catches sight of you as you're passing by and you smile tightly before heading out the front door.

Maggie is sitting on the porch steps and when she notices you she gestures for you to join her. You do, sighing as you take a seat on the same step as her and nudge her with your shoulder when you catch sight of her smile. "Go ahead, Mags. Get it all out."

"How did it feel to wake up in the beefy arms of-" You snort, punching at her thigh. Maggie laughs and leans towards you, her smile softening as she nudges you softly. "In all seriousness, how did that happen?"

You shrug. "I was pacing. Rick talked to me and said I needed sleep. He-" You trail off, chuckling. "He actually made me lay next to him and lay my head in his lap. I fell asleep with him scratching my scalp."

Maggie coos. "So then how did you end up the way you did?"

"I had a dream about Terminus." Her smile falls. "I woke up in a panic and Rick comforted me. That's all that was."

"You sure about that?" You sigh and open your mouth to deny whatever she's concocted in that brain of hers, but you see her staring somewhere down the road. Following her gaze, you see Rick bent over a bike and helping a child with the chain that'd fallen off. You slowly start to smile, especially when he glances up and catches your gaze before waving. "We're safe here, Y/N. You can let that guard of yours down and actually pursue something with him."

"We thought we were safe at the prison and look how that turned out." This time it's Maggie's turn to sigh and you turn to face her, lowering your voice. "If we stay here, Mags, we're sitting ducks. We'll become soft and, should this place ever be overrun, you know damn well every person previously living here will be running around like chickens with their heads cut off."

"Then teach them," she urges. "I've been talking to Deanna about expanding the walls to make room for a bigger garden. She's listening, Y/N. She's taking our words into account because she knows what we've been through out there. She knows we have experience."

"She also took our weapons away," you deadpan. "No one in this town is allowed a weapon, so what makes you think she'll want us teaching her precious locals the proper ways to defend themselves?"

"You never know if you don't try."

Your shoulders droop. "I want to. Believe me, I do, but you know we don't fit in here."

"I know, but we have to try for Carl and Judith." She pauses, taking a moment to quickly glance around. "And for the future babies that will possibly be born."

It takes a moment for her words to sink in and when they do your eyes widen. "What?" She shrugs and you shake your head in disbelief. "You're actually trying?"

"Not now," she sheepishly admits, "but we want to. Eventually. We just need to set down roots somewhere and Alexandria seems like a place that can happen."

"Jesus, Mags." You're still in disbelief, but when you see her expression falter as if ashamed, you're quick to grab onto her hand and squeeze. "Okay. I'll try for the kids and for my future godchild."

Maggie snorts and turns her hand to squeeze yours in return. "And while you're at it, try with Rick. The sexual tension is getting to be a bit much."

"And the moment's ruined." You're quick to toss her hand aside and stand up, ignoring her laughter and then staring longingly at Rick. You sigh softly before turning to mumble, "If I ever get that man in the sack, you and the rest of the house will only have yourselves to blame. I don't want to hear any complaints about traumatizing noises."

She laughs out loud, holding her hands up in mock surrender. "If you get that man in the sack, I'll be so proud of you."

"Yeah, yeah. Just you wait and see."

#twd gen fic x reader #rick x reader #rick grimes x reader #the walking dead imagine #rick grimes imagine #the walking dead #rick grimes #maggie greene #daryl dixon #carol peletier #glenn rhee #carl grimes

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wonderfulworldofmichaelford · 3 years

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Michael in the Mainstream: Black Widow

As many of you may know, I am a huge fan of the MCU. I grew up reading comics and seeing all these superheroes, and it’s interesting to see how they are interpreted on the big screen. Sometimes I love it (Iron Man, Thor: Ragnarok, Infinity War), sometimes I don’t (Thor: The Dark World, Iron Man 2), and sometimes it’s my favorite movie ever made (Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2). The point is, while I’m predisposed to liking these movies, I don’t always, and especially in a post-Endgame world these films really need to try and do something new if they want to grab my attention. There’s only so many times you can watch a guy fight another guy with his same exact powers in an origin story before you say, “Give me something different or get lost,” right? Comic book movies need to be more colorful, more creative, and more weird if they’re going to survive… And I really can’t say Black Widow is any of those things.

Black Widow is yet another film that feels like a holdover from ten years ago, which is at least partly the case. The stories of the racist, sexist Ike Perlmutter are common knowledge now, so it’s not really a huge shock that it took so long to get Widow a starring role in a solo film. With that being said, could they have not tried to make it feel less like a Phase 1 or early Phase 2 Marvel movie? It ends up falling into a lot of the same traps Captain Marvel fell into as a result, at least in regards to feeling way too standard for this late in the game. But, much like that film, there’s still a lot of things to like here.

Just a quick note here before continuing: I’m probably going to be using Captain Marvel as a point of comparison a lot. To be perfectly clear, the reason for this is because both movies feel like leftovers from earlier phases of the MCU being shoved into later phases, and there are actually real-life misogynistic reasons why this ended up happening. I’m not trying to “pit two bad bitches against each other,” I’m not trying to trash talk Captain Marvel (it’s a decent enough movie, I don’t hate it), but both films have a lot of similarities in where they excel and where they fall a bit flat.

Now, why don’t we start with what I liked? The absolute best part of this film is the supporting cast, which is actually very similar to Captain Marvel, complete with said supporting cast completely outshining the lead. Natasha, at least, is a lot more likable than Carol was in her debut and feels far more fleshed out after years of getting to know her, but that does make the supporting cast overshadowing her sting a bit more. This is, most likely, her final appearance after all, and she’s getting sidelined by a bunch of newcomers. Florence Pugh’s Yelena in particular gets a lot of focus and development, and she grows into a really great character by the film’s end, but the absolute best character of all is David Harbour’s Red Guardian. Imagine the world’s most embarrassing dad, except he’s an aggressively Russian super soldier who is so very proud of his adopted children being assassins. He gets a few laughs here and there and even some really sweet moments too; it’s almost enough to wash the taste of Hellboy out of your mouth.

Surprisingly, the action is pretty solid. It’s not the most amazing stuff in the world, but the movie is actually pretty smart about it. Natasha is never put into any situation where she’s at a serious risk of dying, because the movie is aware that you know she’s making it out. The new characters, on the other hand, are constantly put in peril, and it manages to make the action still thrilling and engaging. It’s a clever little screenwriting trick, and even if the action isn’t the best you’ll see, it’s at least watchable and choreographed well enough. The comedy is actually decent here, if only because the four characters cracking jokes the most are established as a (very dysfunctional) family of choice. It felt a lot more natural than most times this sort of quipping happens in MCU films, though one joke where Natasha and Yelena graphically describe their forced sterilization to Red Guardian after he makes the “Is it your time of the month?” comment swings way too far in the opposite direction of Joss Whedon’s disgusting “Being sterilized makes me a monster” bit from Age of Ultron.

By far the best bit, though, is the dinner scene. Kevin Feige had to fight ScarJo and the director to keep this one in, and honestly, it’s a good thing he did. One thing the MCU excels at is when characters stop and have these moments where they bond. Aside from the aforementioned sexist bit, the cabin scene in Age of Ultron is the best moment in the movie. Captain Marvel also has a great scene where Carol, Fury, Talos, and Rambeau all hang out at her house for a night and interact. Moments like these are, I think, what really makes or breaks an MCU movie, and at least here we have some very strong emotional moments, from Yelena starting to crack at Natasha constantly deriding their former family as fake, her cries of “It was real to me” really hitting hard. And then the moment where Red Guardian goes to her, tries to bond with her with a gross story, and then sings to her? It really feels kind of like genuine and familial. It’s such a good sequence, and one far better than any action sequence in the film.

But hey, I did say this was like an early Phase film, and you know what early Phase films in the MCU were known for? Awful villains! And guess what we have here? Awful villains! Here we have the cinematic debut of Taskmaster, the mercenary who can copy any move he sees who is beloved by comics fans! Except here, Taskmaster is reimagined as a mute assassin whose powers come from a computer system in their helmet. They have no personality, no lines, and are a bland retread of the Winter Soldier rather than the more dynamic character Taskmaster is known to be.

What’s worse is their connection to the other villain. The other villain is the man behind the Red Room, who takes little girls and molds them into Widows. A man like this should be utterly evil, reprehensible, and disturbing, and yet the movie decides to turn him into a Saturday morning cartoon villain who is just blatantly and over-the-top misogynist, monologues excessively for his entire time onscreen, and who secretes a pheromone that makes Widows unable to hurt him. Yes, the bad guy has the power to smell bad, which makes this guy an evil smelly misogynist. Captain Marvel had this problem with their main antagonist too, where he was just a straw misogynist with so little going for him otherwise. At least here it’s so embarrassingly stupid you can laugh at it.

What it’s hard to laugh at is the fact that Taskmaster is his daughter. This isn’t bad on its own, but what is bad is how they shoehorn a personal connection to Natasha in. This is, in general, an issue with comic book movie villains; there always has to be a personal connection to the villain, because it raises the stakes and makes the fighting more intense. But if you’re going to do that, you need to implement it well, and this movie does not. Natasha recounts the famous Budapest mission, where she sued Smelly Man’s daughter as bait and blew them both up with a bomb to end the Red Room forever. The big twist in this movie makes Natasha seem incompetent, makes this bomb the least lethal bomb in the world, and robs her of a lot of the moral grayness that would come from a hero who sacrificed one child to save millions more. It kind of cheapens Natasha, if only a little bit, and it certainly doesn’t make Taskmaster any better or more interesting.

The big issue, though, is this: Black Widow’s dead and probably not coming back, so this whole movie is just robbed of a lot of impact just from knowing that. Like what is the point here? We know how her story ends. Everything we see here doesn’t move her forward because we know where she stops. And even with all that said, we’ve seen spy thrillers before. The Winter Soldier already exists, Falcon and the Winter Soldier already exists, so what is this movie doing beyond bringing us a spy thriller with a girl as the lead? It has its good points, but it isn’t doing anything new or interesting, and like I said, if the MCU is going to keep doing it needs to do new and interesting things.

In the end, this movie isn’t really great, nor is it offensively bad. It’s just okay. It’s about agood a spy thriller as a middling James Bond film like Spectre or For Your Eyes Only or From Russia with Love, so if those are your cup of tea you might like this. It’s a perfectly alright Marvel movie that doesn’t really effect anything at all and that just doesn’t feel like it matters. How much you like it is really going to depend on how much you enjoy fun character interactions and family of choice stories, because that stuff shines the strongest, and even then you could be watching Guardians of the Galaxy instead since that film does it so much better than this one.

I compared this a lot to fellow female-led superhero film Captain Marvel because both movies feel like Phase 1 films shoehorned into later Phases, but another film it could easily be compared to is The Incredible Hulk. Much like that film, this is a perfectly decent, perfectly okay superhero movie with some good bits… but in the end, it doesn’t really matter, it doesn’t really change anything that happens, and it just doesn’t really do enough to justify being there. Black Widow is ultimately just a film that exists, and despite its aspirations never really reaches higher or lower than that.

#Michael in the Mainstream #review #movie review #Black Widow #MCU #Scarlett Johansson #David Harbour #Florence Pugh #super movie #action movie #spy thriller

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starlessea · 3 years

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Here Comes the Sun: XX. More Than A Feeling (Daryl Dixon/Reader)

Series Masterlist: Here Comes the Sun

Summary: Daryl Dixon scares the hell out of you climbing out of that damn creek. It takes hauling his ass halfway across Georgia and taking a bullet for him to realise that you're not half bad. He slowly starts to come around, despite grumbling about how much he doesn't like your singing, or that you can't use a gun for shit - and don't get him started on that ugly yellow tent of yours. It takes him a while before he starts to see for himself that he's found a best friend for life, and that he doesn't actually mind the colour yellow that much, after all.

Words: 6480

Chapter Warnings: Language, Violence, Injury.

Your head pounded like an alarm clock you couldn't shut off. The explosions hadn't done any favours for your tinnitus, either. The high-pitched ringing noise was constant, and only intensified the more you tried not to focus on it. Even now that everything had settled down, it still seemed like you could hear walls crashing around you, or feel the vibrations as the stone crumbled and settled at your feet.

Except, it wasn't brick walls that were sending shock waves over the ground; it was Daryl's footsteps as he paced. You could feel them through your own boots, and sent him a look to try and coax him to sit down.

"It's a sprained ankle, Daryl. I didn't lose my leg." You said gently, before someone cleared their throat.

You looked down at Hershel, who was in the process of wrapping the bandages, and winced as he raised an eyebrow at you.

"Sorry." You muttered, awkwardly.

Everything had gone mostly to plan. The governor and his men had been driven away, and the others had returned from Woodberry with even more survivors. You hadn't gotten the chance to see them yet, but the ruckus drifted up the stairs and you could feel the marching of the stampede as though they had been part of the army themselves.

The prison remained standing, albeit missing a watchtower and seeming a bit dilapidated in a few places - but your home was once again yours. You'd sacrificed so much for it. Lori, T-Dogg, Axel, Oscar, and Merle had all lost their lives just so that you could sit here now, complaining of flesh-wounds and mild injuries like they were the most perilous problems you could face.

Daryl didn't seem to agree, however, and narrowed his eyes at you - or more specifically, at the bandage wrapped around your head. You'd taken a bit of a fall, but it wasn't like you'd cracked it open. Though, that didn't stop the man from treating you like Humpty Dumpty - trying to fix all of your pieces despite them not actually being broken.

"I don' care!" Daryl yelled, and you felt Hershel flinch as he made another pass with the bandages.

The man slung his crossbow onto the mattress, and you felt the bed dip beside you from the weight of it. His face was all scrunched up into a scowl, and you wanted nothing more than to hold it in your hands and bring his cheek to yours.

"What the hell d'ya try an' pull tha' for?" He asked, but this time his voice had lost its fight. "You could've gotten yerself killed." Daryl said quietly, like it almost killed him to say, too.

The older man stayed silent as he continued to do his job, and you felt guilty for having let him get caught up in this.

"But I didn't." You reminded Daryl, before shooting a light-hearted smile his way. "Certain victory, remember?"

Your eyes glanced down to his hand, and at the shoddily drawn rune you'd given him with a sharpie earlier in the day. He didn't say anything back, but his pacing had stopped - and he looked straight at you as you spoke.

"And although the governor got away, don't you think he'll be easier to find with a bullet in his shoulder?"

If you had anything to show for your injuries, at least it was that. You offered a teasing smirk to the man - one that probably made him wonder if you had a concussion.

"I think I know a pretty good tracker, too." You joked, nodding in his direction.

Daryl didn't smile back. You watched as the man took a seat next to you on the mattress, and noticed the way his eyes rested on Hershel as he tended to your injuries better than he could have.

"Ya should've followed the plan." He mumbled, so quietly that you barely caught it.

You let out a sigh, unable to hide your guilt. Daryl had an expression you'd only seen him wear once before, and you didn't like it in the slightest.

"I had a clear shot." You reasoned timidly, like you were trying to convince yourself of your words.

You had done; it was true. Except, you should have taken a moment to consider your actions. You thought that you were in fact the hypocrite - since when the time came, you'd been the one to shoot first, and ask questions later.

"If my aim was a little better we wouldn't even be having this conversation." You told him, and offered a sheepish smile alongside it. "I'm sorry I missed."

Hershel tightened the knot as he finished wrapping your foot. You lifted your leg and outstretched it to examine his work. Tentatively, you wiggled your toes, and thanked the man when you felt no pain in doing so. Daryl sent a nod in his direction too, before turning back.

"I don' give a damn if ya missed." He told you, barely above a whisper.

Hershel ushered himself out of the room as quietly as he could manage, trying not to intrude any longer. As soon as he'd left, Daryl let his head drop onto your shoulder, and you could feel his warm breath over the crook of your neck.

"I only care tha' yer alive." He admitted, mumbling against the skin there. "I can't lose you, too."

You leant back against the man. He seemed so downtrodden, but for the first time since the farm, you felt safe. You remembered that first night after you'd cleared the prison, sitting out in that field around the campfire. You'd asked him then if he thought this could be your home. Now, you decided, it was.

"Have more faith in me, Dixon." You told him, and stroked his hair - letting your nails run along his scalp gently. "I think I must be pretty hard to kill."

Despite the head injury, the events of that morning were as clear as day to you - as clear as the cloudless sky had been when you all took your positions. The strategy had been to ambush them when they came, and you had been the one to dissuade Rick from utilising the watchtowers.

"They'll be their first target." You'd said, and luckily he had listened.

You and Daryl had been checking the guns, before deciding to take one last walk around the perimeter. You'd scouted their vehicles en route to the prison, so you knew it was only a matter of time before all hell would break loose. The day was otherwise serene, and you hoped that once all of this was over you'd get the chance to revel in the sunshine and celebrate your certain victory.

You smiled over at the man, remembering what you'd wanted to tell him. The two of you were checking for breaches in the fences, making sure that the governor's men couldn't infiltrate from anywhere you wouldn't expect. You watched as Daryl pulled on the lattice wire to make sure it was secure, and you slipped your hand into his other, free one.

He gave you a subtle glance, but didn't make any sarcastic remarks in return. The two of you walked hand-in-hand alongside the fences, as though you were going on a mundane, morning stroll in the sun. It was silent, and you both seemed to just bask in the peace whilst it still lasted. Though, once you had gone full-circle, and had ended up back where you'd started, you stopped in place.

You fished around in your pocket and pulled out the sharpie you'd scavenged from Glenn earlier in the day. Daryl looked at it suspiciously, but let you do as you pleased - just like always. Carol had noted how much of a soft spot the man had for you, and you couldn't even deny it at this point. The two of you had woken up entangled in each other this morning, and it had taken you the better part of half an hour to coax him to let you get up. You could tell he was scared of what the day would bring. Despite claiming to be a man 'not scared of nothing,' you knew that Daryl Dixon was afraid of one thing above all else - and that was losing you.

"Give me your hand." You instructed, and pulled the cap off the top of the pen with your teeth.

The man eyed the permanent marker, before looking down at your interlocked hands.

"Yer holdin' it." He grumbled, and you rolled his eyes at his dry humour.

"The other one." You clarified, pointing in the direction. "It needs to be on the same side."

You took his hand in yours before he had time to question you further, and pressed the sharpie to it. You drew the simple pattern, watching as the ink bled out slightly over the cracks in his skin.

It was the same rune of Týr that you had tattooed on your hip - the one Daryl claimed 'looked like an arrow.' He stared at it once you'd finished, stretching out his fingers before balling his hand into a fist. Maybe it was a little childish to want to wish him luck in this way, and you thought that Daryl was a man quite capable of victory by himself, but you'd wanted to do it nonetheless.

"Look, we match." You exclaimed with a smile, but the words felt familiar on your tongue.

Daryl must have thought so, too, as you saw some kind of recognition flash behind his eyes. Then, you remembered it. The memory washed over you like a wave coming onto shore. It had been back on the farm, where you lay next to each other on that springy, double bed. He'd had an arrow wound in his side, and your bullet hole matched it nicely. You'd pointed it out to him with a grin, too doped up on medication for your own good. It felt so long ago - back when you'd been more young and naive to the world, and he'd been more angry at it.

"I guess some things never change." You admitted, and you could tell that he understood.

You felt him squeeze your hand, and looked back down at the semi-tattoo you'd drawn haphazardly.

"An' other things do." He replied.

When the first explosion rang out, your mind immediately thought back to that moment. The front left watchtower had been decimated, just as you had predicted, and the tanks began to roll in through the field. Whilst some of the group were hidden away in the prison interior, waiting to ambush those who came in, you stayed outside with Maggie and Glenn - ready to catch any stragglers who made it back out.

Daryl hadn't wanted you to be in the thick of it, and you could tell why. From the looks of it, the governor's army was partially made of toy soldiers. From your position, you could make out young boys and girls barely through their teenage years, and adults who looked like they had never held a weapon before. You would have found it hard to kill them - even if you needed to.

From your hiding place, however, you couldn't see the governor. The group was too dense, and he was probably lurking somewhere in the middle - just like the coward he was. You stared down the scope of your rifle, trying to get a better view. All around you, you could hear the sounds of crumbling stone, and the flicker of flames as they burned the tower to the ground. There had only been a couple of warning rounds shot at the building, but they'd done more damage than you were comfortable with. You just hoped that Daryl and the others were alright inside.

The whole thing seemed to last a couple of minutes at most. As quickly as the group had entered the cellblock, they were forced back out in a shroud of smoke and gunfire. Maggie and Glenn had their guns aimed, but it looked to be a clean retreat. The govenor's makeshift suicide army had all turned back, and were fleeing into the forest - so you didn't shoot at them.

That had been the plan anyway, until you caught sight of a familiar eyepatch and the man who wore it. You jumped up from behind the bushes like someone had set them alight, and ran over to the wall for cover. Maggie and Glenn shouted at you, but you continued until you reached it. It was part of the fence you'd reinforced with steel, and you ducked behind it to peer through the gunhole.

The man was returning back to the tank, mowing down anyone who got in his way. You stared through your rifle scope, finger hovering the trigger. You would have pulled it, but a civilian got in your line of sight at the last second.

"Shit." You whispered, below your breath, and slung the rifle back over your shoulder.

You hopped the fence and started running, making your way to the blazing watchtower that was set alight like a torch. The base was still steady, and it provided good cover whilst allowing you to move in closer. The calm summer's day had been transformed into a warzone in a matter of minutes. Shouts and gunfire rang out around you as you dashed to the burning building. When you reached it, you quickly ducked down and pressed your back to the stone as you set up your rifle.

It hasn't been part of the plan; you knew that. Though, you didn't just want to let the man walk free, either. If you weren't the one to do it, it would be someone else - perhaps Rick, or Michonne, or even Daryl. You wanted to pull your weight, especially if it meant that their shoulders wouldn't have to bear the burden of it.

The tower creaked and groaned above your head, and your eyes quickly glanced upwards to catch sight of the flames that licked the sky - creating an amber haze that resembled sunset. You ignored the sound, and locked onto the governor once again. This time, he was clambering into the vehicle, and you knew that it would be your last chance. Your line of sight was clear, and so you let your finger squeeze the trigger - and felt the jolt of the gun as it hit back against your shoulder.

The bullet connected, and you watched the man stagger backwards. He turned to face your direction, and your gazes caught for a split second - like you could see it all unfold in slow motion. Then, you heard a crash, and time resumed as normal.

Glass shattered above your head and fell onto you like jagged raindrops, and the stone debrid came following like lightning after it. The tower shifted, and you watched it crumble for a brief moment before the adrenaline kicked in. You abandoned your rifle and jumped up, starting to run in the opposite direction. Rubble came pouring down and bounced over the concrete at your feet. You felt small pieces nick your legs, but continued to sprint as you heard Maggie and Glenn call your name in the distance. You couldn't outrun the collapse, but you'd managed to dive behind one of the fences just in time to shield yourself.

You'd squeezed your eyes closed as the tower fell, and huddled your knees to your chest to protect yourself. The stone structure made the most almighty crash as it caved to the ground, and suddenly the courtyard was completely shrouded in dust. It wasn't until the smoke cloud had settled and you recognised figures emerging from the fog that you realised you'd made it.

Your head stung, and you pressed your fingers to your temple only to notice that something had drawn blood there. You must've been struck by some stray piece of rubble, you thought. You were a bit dazed, but you could make out voices clearly as they shouted your name. You recognised one in particular, and your heart sped up in response.

"C'mon, Teach!" Daryl yelled, but you couldn't pin-point where from.

You tried to call back, but your throat was dry and your voice barely made its way out of your lips.

"Can ya hear me?" He shouted again. "Call out to me if ya can hear me!"

Clearing your throat, you tried again.

"Daryl!" You screamed, and this time it resonated. "I'm here!"

You noticed a shift in the fog, and figures got clearer as they made their way through it.

"I'm over here!" You yelled again, your voice breaking over the words.

The man came running over to you as soon as he could tell where you were. You'd been hidden behind the sheet of metal, sat amongst a pile of debrid, but he still found you. You could feel the fresh blood trickling down your forehead, but you wiped it away with the back of your hand and sent him a watery smile of pure relief. Daryl took in the sight, and the way your foot seemed to be turned in an awkward angle beneath you - and his eyes widened.

"What did you do?" He asked, rushing over to your side in an instant.

You looked back at him with an equally dumbfounded expression.

"I shot him." You admitted. "I shot the governor."

After Hershel had left your cell, you and Daryl stayed sitting on the mattress together for a little while. You let him rest his head over your shoulder, which soon turned into lying on your chest as you both slumped back into the pillows. It was a little different from what you were used to, but you held his head and stroked his hair gently. You thought that he needed the comfort, and you were fine with being able to return it for once.

Maggie and Glenn had informed you that they'd seen everything go down - and that you'd actually hit the governor in the shoulder, rather than his chest. It was a bitter disappointment, but they'd reassured you that you'd still done a good job - after they'd given you a scolding, that is. You weren't entirely sure what had possessed you to do it - to abandon the plan. Maybe it was the images of a beaten Glenn and an inconsolable Maggie that you weren't able to rid yourself of, or perhaps it was the nightmares you had of cowering beneath Axel's body. More likely, it was the recent death of Merle, and what it had done to Daryl as a result. Whatever it was, you didn't regret it. The governor had deserved everything that was coming for him, and you'd just happened to be the one to pass the sentence.

Daryl's eyelids seemed heavy, and his breathing had evened out. You knew that if you didn't rouse him now, he'd probably fall asleep within a matter of minutes. It was selfish, but you didn't want that. You wanted to celebrate your victory - no matter how certain it had been.

"I'm sorry, Daryl." You whispered, and gently moved his hair back from his face.

The man inhaled sharply, and you watched his eyes flicker as they adjusted to the light. You let out a soft chuckle, which you were sure he could feel resonate through your chest.

"Can you help me down the stairs?" You asked sweetly, hoping to coax him awake. "I want to meet everyone."

He'd already carried you out of the rubble once today, but you hoped he'd be generous enough to lend you an arm as you hobbled down the metal steps. Daryl sat up and stretched his neck side to side before glancing over at you, his eyes immediately resting over your bandaged forehead to check it was still alright. You offered a smile to reassure him, and eventually the man nodded in return.

"It's gonna get a lot nosier 'round 'ere." He grumbled, but it didn't sound like he really minded.

Daryl had your arm slung over his shoulder as you both attempted the stairs. His other hand was on your waist for support, and he waited patiently as you took each step - going along with your pace. You'd heard the commotion from your cell, but nothing could have prepared you for the sheer amount of people that had been brought back from Woodberry.

As your foot hit the final step you were greeted by an unexpected round of applause, interspersed with the occasional cheers. You almost stumbled back in shock, but Daryl caught your arm before you could trip.

"There she is!" Glenn yelled over the crowd. "Our suicidal sniper."

You shot Daryl a side-eye glance, but the man just shrugged in response. Your gaze ran over the unfamiliar faces as they smiled, or looked at you curiously, and you suddenly felt inadequate in comparison. You stood leaning against Daryl in your dusty clothes and bandages, and sheepishly lowered your head as they stared. Eventually, Daryl shooed them all away, warning them to 'get out of your face.'

It made you laugh, and you aimed some teasing remarks in his direction - pestering him if he'd like to become your bodyguard. The chatter buzzed around you like nothing you'd ever heard before. Even in the old world, the atmosphere couldn't compare. You didn't know how long it had been since you'd even laid eyes on so many people at once. You knew that you'd have to clear out some other cell blocks just to make room for them all. This was the start of something; you just knew it.

Someone called your name from amongst the fray, but Daryl didn't stop ushering you over to a nearby seat. You whipped your head around in confusion, but continued to shuffle along until you had the opportunity to sit down. He leant against the table next to you, resembling a diligent guard dog. Daryl was the most loyal man you'd ever met, and everyday he reminded you not to settle for anything less. You wondered how anyone could ever come close to him - past or present. Your ex had been a mere speck of poorly-chosen dust in comparison to Daryl Dixon.

The man seemed to be able to read your thoughts, as he glanced in your direction with perfect timing - causing you to look away. You heard your name through the thick of the crowd again, and this time tried harder to locate the source. Only a few seconds later, someone emerged from the centre of the room, pushing past everyone so that she could get to you.

The woman had neat brown hair to her shoulders, and was wearing a sundress that looked like it had been recently pressed. All of the former Woodberry inhabitants looked clean, but she definitely stood out due to how beautiful she was. Her eyes were a warm coffee colour, and her smile was bright as she looked over at you.

You choked on your words, immediately standing up only to stumble into Daryl's shoulder. He quickly got a hand under your arm to steady you, but had a disapproving expression on his face as he did so.

"Vanessa?" You spluttered out, and she gave you an excited nod in return.

Daryl barely had time to step aside before the woman bounded up to you and flung her arms around your neck. She squeezed you so tightly that you forgot how to breathe, but you hugged her back with the same force - clasping your arms around her back.

You were utterly speechless. The last time you'd seen the woman, the two of you were witnessing the complete horror of your camp being destroyed. You'd looked for her in the days following, but she'd seemed to simply disappear into the night. You hadn't even thought she'd made it out alive. She'd been your colleague before all this, and then your campmate. But, most importantly, she'd been your friend.

You stared at her as she pulled away, and she giggled at your dumbfounded expression. Her smile was as pretty as you remembered, and you suddenly felt pale in comparison to her rosy cheeks and honey complexion. She was as quick-witted as ever, and wasted no time in regaining her composure to tease you like you'd never even spent any time apart.

Daryl watched in silence, not wanting to interrupt, but you could tell that he was starting to put the pieces together.

"You were the one who shot him?" She asked, as though in utter shock.

She had her hands on either of your shoulders, and looked you up and down before settling over your one foot that you kept hovering above ground.

"Yeah." You replied sheepishly, and glanced off to the side.

The woman slapped your arm in disbelief, and Daryl shot her a warning look that made you snort. She looked over at the man, too, and raised an eyebrow.

"What on earth happened to you?" She questioned, meeting your eyes this time.

You stared at the floral pattern of her sundress, secretly wishing you had something equally as pretty, and shrugged.

"Well, I hit my forehead and sprained my ankle-" you started, but the woman cut you off.

"I don't mean that." She remarked, with a disapproving tone.

She sounded the same as she did on those days you'd spend your lunch breaks together, or go and get coffee at the local shop - trading gossip and work secrets. She grinned at you mischievously, and it didn't go unnoticed by Daryl.

"Where is the timid girl who sang 'Yellow Submarine' to us from her tent every night?"

The man beside you was the one to laugh this time, and you jabbed him with your elbow in response.

"I really do miss that tent." You mumbled under your breath, and thought you could hear Daryl weakly protest below his.

Vanessa eyed the two of you, and her mouth upturned into a grin you recognised all too well. It was the one she wore when whispering to you about cute baristas, or when sliding her number across the bar.

"And who's this?" She said, in a tone that was equally as familiar.

She turned to face Daryl, and gave him a quick once-over like she was checking for any visible flaws. You couldn't contain your laugh; she always did lack subtlety.

"This is Daryl." You told her, and slipped your hand into his. "My-" you paused, furrowing your eyebrows as you did, "boyfriend?"

It came out like a question, and Daryl snorted uncharacteristically from beside you.

"'M too old for tha' word." He grumbled, but it was still light-hearted.

You took the opportunity to have some fun, and pressed your chest against his arm as you got closer to his ear.

"What do you want me to say, then?" You asked teasingly. "My partner? Sweetheart?"

The man seemed completely taken aback to hear you call him anything besides 'Dixon.'

"My other half? The old ball 'n chain-" you continued, but were abruptly interrupted as he shrugged you off in embarrassment.

"D'you wan' another head injury?" He asked - a little too quickly and a lot too loudly.

Vanessa laughed her usual dainty laugh, and you'd almost forgotten that she was even there. Daryl's cheeks were dusted a light pink, and you knew he would remind you of this later when you were alone.

"You two are good together." The woman spoke, causing you to look over in her direction. "I'm glad you found someone in all of this."

You gave her a shy smile, before looking down at your feet. You'd never been good with compliments, but she always seemed to have an abundance of them to give.

"After everything you've been through," she went on, this time glancing over at Daryl with a look that could only be described as approval. "You really deserve someone who can make you happy."

Happy. That is what this feeling was. You'd almost forgotten what the word meant, but you were suddenly reminded. Daryl had made you feel a lot of things since you'd met him - first a lot of nerves and sometimes even frustration, but eventually it became comfort and security. However, you realised that all along there were moments of happiness. Even back at the farm, the man never did fail to make you laugh - intentionally or unintentionally. Whether it was his dry sense of humour, or the wise-cracks he'd make in those days where he seemed younger, and more willing to fight the world.

You looked over at the man like you'd only just come to the most obvious of realisations. Daryl Dixon made you happy - like nothing else had before.

As the night started to settle down, the atmosphere fizzled away along with it. Everyone had taken to their temporary sleeping arrangements, and you could tell that Daryl was holding back his yawns as he helped you clamber over the people left chatting on the floor. The day felt like it had gone on for a week, and you couldn't wait to just sink into bed and let your bandaged head meet the pillows.

Across the block, you spotted Rick talking to some of the new residents, and urged Daryl to return to the cell ahead of you. The man glanced down at your foot and then back up to your eyes, as though needing to state the obvious. You shook your head, telling him that you'd get Rick to help you up the stairs once you were done. You just wanted to talk to the officer briefly, and didn't want to keep Daryl up any longer than he needed to be.

He didn't seem entirely convinced, but he left you propped up against the wall where you instructed him to. His stubbornness had definitely rubbed off on you, you'd realised, and he could hardly attempt to fight against it.

"Deputy Grimes!" You called, once Daryl was out of ear-shot. "Get over here for a second."

The man looked up from his conversation, and you watched him excuse himself before making his way over. He looked equally as exhausted as the rest of you, and stepped heavily over the stone floor. Still, he gave you a small smile as he approached, and squeezed your shoulder.

"You did good today." He drawled, praising you for the second time tonight.

You rolled your eyes and slapped his chest with the back of your hand.

"Don't let Daryl hear you say that." You warned, with a teasing look. "I could have died, remember?"

You'd said the words in Daryl's Southern accent, impersonating the man the best you could. Rick laughed in response, and you quickly glanced over your shoulder just to double-check that the archer wasn't still looming there.

"Never knew him to be so uptight." The officer replied, and you shrugged.

"He just needs a good night’s sleep." You explained, glancing over at the staircase leading to the second floor. "I think we all do."

Rick especially seemed like he was dead on his feet, but he held it together well. You couldn't imagine the pressure he felt having to keep everyone safe during times like these. You wanted to ease that burden a little, or even just throw some distractions in the mix to make him forget about it.

"Anyway, I heard that Glenn found a camera at Woodberry." You started, watching as he raised an eyebrow at you.

A few hours ago you'd hijacked it, and briefly kidnapped the Grimes children for that photoshoot you'd been threatening. The polaroid had turned out even better than you'd hoped - and you had almost been tempted to keep it for yourself.

You pulled the picture from your pocket, careful not to bend it, and passed it to the man. His eyes squinted as he looked at it, flat atop his palm. Both Carl and Judy were sporting their sheriff's hats, and the older Grimes had his sister perched on his lap.

"Thank you for everything you've done for us, Rick." You told him, and watched as he brought the picture closer to his face. "I'll never forget how you were always there for me."

It was rare that you ever saw the man speechless, but in that moment you were sure you saw a glimpse of the same Rick Grimes you'd first encountered back at the farm - that officer friendly who would give anything for his family.

He shook his head wordlessly, before tucking the picture into the inside pocket of his jacket.

"You don't give yourself enough credit." He said quietly, before slinging one of your arms around his neck. "And I don't think you ever will."

You returned to your cell soon after that, bidding the officer goodnight at the door. He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek before reminding you to change your bandages in the morning. You laughed in response, wondering why all the men around you treated you like glass.

The room was quiet as you ducked under the sheet hanging at the doorway, and you shuffled inside. Daryl had lit the small lamp on the table, and it cast a warm, golden glow over him where he lay. He had his eyes closed, but you noticed he had your headphones on - connected to the walkman that was left at the edge of the mattress.

You could hear the faint din of the music as some sound escaped, and slowly made your way over to the bed - not wanting to startle the man. He was still fully dressed, and had his arms tucked under his head as he lay on his back. You didn't think he was asleep; rather, he seemed to be waiting for you.

You knelt down onto the mattress, feeling it dip beneath your weight as you crawled up beside him. He didn't react, so you pulled one side of the headphones from his ear, and brought your lips close to it.

"Boo." You whispered, and blew hot air there to make him shiver.

This time he cracked an eye open, and pulled you down beside him gently. He continued to be mindful of your head, and plumped a pillow up for you to lay on. He then removed the headphones, and twisted the ends of them so that the speaker parts were facing outwards.

You chuckled at the action, suddenly thinking back on your childhood where you'd share a pair with your friends. Daryl placed them in the space between the two of you, so that you could both listen to the songs together. You heard something by The Beatles play muffled, and closed your eyes to take in the melody.

The two of you talked briefly, and sleepily, for a bit. Daryl grumbled about you using him as a makeshift crutch for the majority of the night, and you just hummed in response. You caught him glancing over at you every now and then, but he made no attempt to pull you closer like he usually would have. You knew it was because of your head; he didn't even have to tell you.

"Hershel said it might leave a small scar." You told him, like it was a secret you felt needed to be disclosed.

You didn't really mind all that much, but you knew Daryl had a tendency to look at you guilt-stricken whenever he saw you injured. You just wanted to warn him - just in case.

"Like Harry Potter or some shit?" The man mumbled, and you rolled your eyes.

"Maybe." You replied.

The chatter downstairs had settled, and all that remained was the tinny sound of the music that quietly played near your ear. You swallowed thickly, staring up at the ceiling to see the uneven cracks that marred it.

"Will you still love me if I have a gawdy scar over my forehead?" You asked teasingly - but a part of you felt nervous to hear the response.

Then, your eyes widened as you realised your choice of words. You sat up, immediately feeling the blood rush to your head as you did so.

"Wait-" you stuttered, noticing the man's expression. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

He cut you off before you could finish.

"I will."

You blinked, but he pulled you back down to him - this time letting you lay your head gently over his chest.

"Know I ain't said it before, but-" he paused, "I love ya."

His heartbeat pounded quickly against your cheek, as though proving his words.

"I love ya so goddamn much, so don't ever pull that shit on me again."

You felt tears start to well up in your eyes, and hoped he couldn't feel them dampen his shirt.

"I love ya - you crazy woman who shot the governor an' took a bullet for me."

You swallowed thickly, trying to hide the wateriness of your voice as you responded.

"I love you too, Dixon." You admitted, wondering why you hadn't done so before.

You'd loved the man almost as long as you could remember; but it was one thing to love, and another thing to be loved in return.

"I won't let anything on this earth take me away from you." You mumbled against him. "You don't have to worry about that."

Daryl breathed in deeply, and you moved along with the rise and fall of his chest. This is what happiness felt like, you decided. Happiness wasn't as perfect as you had once thought it to be - back in the old world. It wasn't that amazing job, or the hard-earned paycheck, nor was it the men who called you pretty whilst giving you an ugly stare. Happiness for you was now walking around the perimeter of a dingy prison, hand-in-hand, as you stared up at the morning sun preparing for a fight. Happiness was those nights you'd stay awake, listening to the laughs down the hall of Maggie and Glenn as they whispered about their future together, and noticing that Daryl was eavesdropping, too. Most importantly, happiness was the man who you woke up next to, and the sound of his voice as he told you 'good morning.'

You looked down at his hand, resting on his chest, and saw the ink there that had smudged throughout the day. The walkman finished its tune, and there was a brief, few-second silence before it skipped to the next one. A familiar melody rang out, and Daryl placed a careful kiss over your hair.

"I like this song." He whispered against you, and you nodded in return.

"Yeah, me too."

A/N It took 20 chapters, 120k words, but they finally exchanged their ‘I love you’s.’ I think it was obvious that they already loved each other before this, but hearing them say it out loud just-

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thefallennightmare · 3 years

Text

Vas Prizrak-Four

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 1370

Warnings: swearing, some smut, fluff, lots of angst.

Summary: Bucky and Reader’s life in Wakanda had been everything they ever wanted. But when they are told about the fight that was on it’s way to them, they fear that life would be dusted away for good.

A/N: I’m hoping to get a few more chapters out today but who knows! Don’t forget, tags are open for this story still!

The sheets were cold, warmth fleeting a long time ago, and I cuddled the pillow closer to my chest as I tried to think it was something else.

Someone else.

Tears had stained the pillowcase multiple times and no matter how many times it was washed, the tears remained. The soft, quiet sobs that I tried to keep to myself, hoping I wouldn’t wake the others. But I knew that no matter how quiet I was, there was always one person there to help dry the tears.

The first few nights were the roughest, crying out his name in my dreams. Nightmares. I couldn’t sleep because I would always see his face, his ghost haunting me. I refused to leave the room because I didn’t want to see anyone. Nat had tried bringing me something to eat a couple of times but when she came back hours later to the untouched plate still in the same spot outside the door, she gave up.

We were all grieving, I knew that, but they didn’t know that I was grieving something extra. No one understood the pain I had gone through.

No one.

I knew that they were all busy looking for Thanos to undo the snap but they were all idiots. We barely made it out alive and now they want to go after him again? With less numbers? Half of the world had vanished in the snap, it was a ghost town out there.

Again, idiots.

Rolling over to the other side of the bed, my broken eyes glanced up to the adjacent bathroom in the room. The body stood in front of the mirror, contemplation clear on his face. He looked from the mirror to the object in his hand. His muscles tensed underneath his tank top as he leaned closer to the mirror, making his decision.

Once finished, he looked towards my reflection in the mirror. His sad eyes raked over my body, a sigh leaving his lips. He knew that trying to get me out of bed to eat something or even take a shower was a pointless argument. I only did things on my terms, when I wanted.

But with the broken state of myself in front of him, he knew that he couldn’t allow me to continue on like this.

The shower had turned on with a start causing my body to jump at the noise.

Silence was still tangled between us as he gently pulled me to my feet. I tried to fight against him but after weeks of fighting, I was tired.

“Steve,” I muttered.

“Don’t!” He demanded.

Without another word, he placed his hands on my shoulders and led me towards the bathroom. He motioned towards the shower with a quick nod.

“I’ll give you five minutes. When you’re finished, we’re going to the common room to eat something.”

Once alone, I reluctantly stripped out of my clothes, letting the warm water cascade down over my body. The warm water had instantly relaxed the ache in my muscles and I silently cursed myself for not trying this earlier.

Steve was the one who had helped me through the hell the last few weeks had become. I tried to sleep alone the first few nights but after the third night of screams for Bucky, Steve had brought me to his room. He refused to let me deal with this loss alone.

We were never intimate. We did share a bed but that was it. He wouldn’t allow whatever lingering feelings he had left for me get in the way of me trying to heal.

If it wasn’t for Steve, I would have put a bullet in my brain 21 days ago; the night Bucky disappeared.

“Y/N?”

I quickly wrapped a towel around myself and shut off the water, letting Steve know that he was good to come inside.

“Natasha bought you some more clothes,” Steve mentioned while setting another bag of clothes next to the other six bags.

The only clothes I had chosen to wear were Bucky’s shirts, hoping that the scent would be enough to make me think he was actually here.

It didn’t.

I nodded to Steve while sitting on the edge of the bed, eyes immediately connecting to the picture frame on the end table.

Bucky and I in Romania, all those years ago. My fingers played with the necklace he had bought for my birthday. I never took it off.

“I’ll let you get dressed.”

Steve went to walk away but stopped when I reached for his hand.

“You can stay. I’ll get dressed in the bathroom,” I stated.

He nodded and I could feel his eyes on my back as I hesitantly grabbed some clothes from the bags that Natasha had bought.

Once I had completely dressed, I mentioned to Steve that he could uncover his eyes. He had walked into the bathroom, leaning against the door frame to watch me.

I stood in front of the mirror, grimacing at my broken state. The circles under my eyes had darken and my hair was starting to dry in a knotted mess. Running a brush through it, I peaked at Steve through the mirror.

“Thank you.”

All he did was nod in response.

“Are you hungry?” He questioned.

I shook my head. “I don’t want to see anyone.”

“They’re worried about you, Y/N.” Steve said. “They haven’t seen you since we came back to the compound.”

“I know, Steve.” I sighed, turning myself to face him.

I leaned against the sink and crossed my arms over my chest. “I can’t look any of them in the eye. I understand that they’ve also lost people they loved but knowing what I lost.”

My words trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Steve knew, however, and pulled me into his embrace. “You don’t have to tell them.”

“It’s not fair, Steve.” I looked into his eyes, the bare skin of his face smelling like fresh aftershave. “The only piece I had left of Bucky disappeared along with him.”

He gently placed a hand over my stomach, ghosting over the place where mine and Bucky’s unborn baby used to grow. His lips parted to speak but closed when the tower began to shake, almost as if an earthquake was happening.

Before I could argue, Steve was pulling me along with him towards the main common hall of the Avengers Compound.

I watched as Tony lay in one of the hospital beds in the med bay of the compound, Pepper stuck to his side like glue.

He had been floating in space for the last twenty three days but was saved by a new friend, Carol Danvers.

Or Captain Marvel as she called herself.

Tony said that he had fought Thanos on his home planet, ultimately losing in the end, just like we had.

“This is stupid,” I muttered to the remaining members of our team. “We went after him with double the army and we still lost!”

Steve sighed. “We have to try, Y/N.”

“To what, kill him?” I scoffed. “We tried that!”

“You didn’t have me last time.”

My eyes snapped over towards the new blood of the room.

“Do you even know where he is?” I asked Carol.

“I know some people who might,” she stated.

“Don’t bother, I know exactly where he is.”

The other new blood, a robot named Nebula, spoke this time. From the brief introductions, I gathered that she was the daughter of Thanos. If it wasn’t for Steve stopping me, she would have been burnt to ash the second those words came from her.

“So he’s retired to a planet?” Rhodey asked.

“He used the stones again,” Nat said, astonished.

I couldn’t believe that we were even discussing this and I couldn’t believe that I had ultimately agreed to it. Even if there was a slight chance that I would be able to bring Bucky back, along with everyone else that had vanished, I owed it to him to at least try. He wouldn’t want me to sit on my ass anymore; I needed to fight.

“Let’s go get this son of a bitch,” I cursed while leaving them all behind.

#james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader #reader insert #bucky barnes and reader #steve rogers #captain america #soldat #dorogaya #the winter soldier

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maggotbxby · 3 years

Text

Fire and Ice - Carol Denning x OC/Reader A/B/O Fic

SUMMARY: Sallie Novak, a 19 year old omega, gets sent to litchfield max for attempted murder, and has to survive in a prison that consists of mostly Betas and Alphas.

CHAPTER ONE

Sallie Novak never thought she would end up in prison, but with the unfortunate circumstances that have occurred over the past 2 years of her life, it honestly may be the better option than being at home.

Being an omega, she was told to do the right thing and never the wrong thing, her mother raised her that way. At first, it was okay. Her mother was a strong omega and taught Sallie to control her heats and not get swept up in relationships. She didn’t end up as a pregnant teen, so she didn’t do too bad.

Though when Sallie was 16, her mother met Dan, an ex-military alpha who is the biggest fucking cuntstick on the planet. He actually seemed incredibly nice at first, for the first year of knowing him, actually. He had money and took care of Sallie and her mother who didn’t have much since her father died when she was 12, and her mother worked as a manager at a grocery store.

After Dan and her mother got married, however, the dynamic shifted, Dan seemed to turn into a different person. He got lazy and grew a dependence for alcohol, and they quickly discovered that he got violent when he drank. He began to get very abusive towards Sallie’s mother, and it sent her into a highly depressive state. She lost her job and hardly left her bedroom most days.

Sallie was unsure why or how Dan’s attention got shifted to her instead of her mother, but it did. Sallie would come home from school and Dan would be drunk, and he would find ridiculous excuses to be pissed off at her; she didn’t do the dishes before she left, or she forgot to feed the dog, anything. On the good days, he would scream at her and she’d shut herself in her room and cry, on the bad days, she would be in her bedroom with belt marks, scrapes, and bruises all over her body.

He never took interest in her sexually, as far as she knew. She took suppressants and wore scent blockers so he could never smell her, but he did make occasional comments about her figure and slapped her ass a couple times, so, he wasn’t innocent in that regard either.

Eventually, she had enough of the abuse, she couldn't take it anymore, so one day, when she was bringing him coffee (Which he made her do, every morning), she slipped rat poison in it. But the motherfucker caught on, he could taste it in his fucking coffee, and he wasted no time calling the police.

That’s when she knew she was fucked.

So Sallie ended up in prison. Granted, the time for her was shorter than most, but as an omega, she knew there wouldn’t be many like her. And there weren’t. Omegas didn’t commit crimes and go to jail like alphas do. They stayed pretty and did little offenses that very rarely got them in trouble. Omegas were pure little creatures, even though a lot of them had a nasty sex life, they always kept things clean on the outside and blamed others for their faults like the prissy little bitches they were. Well, Sallie never did that. She took the blame, and though she tried and tried to report Dan’s abusive behaviour, her mother, always denied it, and it was the word of an attempted murderer against that of a woman with a clean record and a veteran.

So here she was, litchfield fucking Max. Walking in with cuffs on her hands, glaring back at everyone who looked at her. The prison provided scent blockers for omegas, and hormone suppressants, but that didn’t make Sallie any less nervous, the suppressants weren’t the same ones Sallie was used to taking, and the blockers weren’t very strong.

They stopped at a gate, and next to it was a large “C” on the wall. “Welcome to C-Block” the guard said as the gate opened and they walked in.

Even with the blockers, she noticed some alphas got a whiff of her smell as she walked by, causing some to lick their lips as if they were a treat, palm at themselves with obvious sexual frustration, while others bit down on their bottom lip to seem less obvious of their intentions when gazing at her body. She shouldn’t be here. She should be somewhere else with more protection, yet here she was… She didn’t realize she'd be mixed in with alphas, even if there wasn’t that many. Sallie didn’t have a plan for what she was going to do while she was here. She didn’t have a plan on staying safe and keeping herself up in the long run. She had nothing.

She was so fucked.

Practically shoved into her little cell, Sallie found herself back towards the guard who had pushed her in. “So, inmate,” the guard spoke. Helman, was it? “Most of the time Omegas are put into Florida, but since we're short on space there, you'll have to stay here until we find an alternative. There aren’t many alphas here, but there are a couple. That means no making yourself vulnerable; cover your scent as much as you can, or you will be fucked over if one of us isn't here. We can’t be by your side every hour of the day, and the male guards won’t be the most reliable if you accidentally seduce them with your scent.”

Sallie wanted to scoff at the male’s words, staring at him. Her expression clearly showed she was nervous. “My cellmate isn’t an alpha, right?” She asked.

“Obviously not, your cellmate is a beta, one of our most docile inmates. Don't expect any more special treatment just because you're an omega though. You got yourself in this mess, and now there’s no way out. You should have been a good little whore and stayed put instead of going out and doing bad things.”

The guard’s words tore right through Sallie, making her go pale for a moment. The look in his eyes showed that he wasn’t messing around and that he was looking for what many of the inmates were looking for: A hole to fuck.

This was her life now.

“This was the end of your special treatment, Novak. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner will not be taken to you. Dinner is in ten, tomorrow you have orientation after breakfast. Don't be late for it. We have eyes on you, so you have little to worry about,” the guard was smirking. “I would get a head start on getting to dinner.The good trays always get taken by the alphas.”

Sallie breathed shakily, nodding her head slowly.

Keep your head up, Novak. They won't hurt you.

——

“Ooh, look at this new cookie, you don’t look half bad,” a voice jeered at Sallie when she went to get in line for her dinner tray. She couldn’t resist glaring over, seeing a slightly overweight girl with badly bleached hair laughing at her. She was with a group who already had their dinner trays, sitting at a table. Sallie gave the girl a dirty look, but then she noticed a movement behind her.

It was just a tiny movement, a cocking of the head. And yet for a second when Sallie saw her, she forgot how to breath. The woman was staring right at her, eyes narrowed how a predator would watch its prey. Sallie immediately knew this woman was an alpha, not even having to smell her. Sallie’s brain told her to look away but she simply couldn’t. She didn’t know if it was her omega needing this or just deep curiosity, but she kept her gaze, taking in large 80’s glasses and the end of a lollipop that stuck out of her mouth. But then she blinked, and Sallie felt her face flush and the world came rushing back. She quickly looked away and bore her gaze at the food cart, making sure not to look back at the woman.

When she got her food and sat at an empty table, 2 inmates quickly came up and sat on each side of her, their smell flooding her senses; alphas.

“So… what's your name, pretty little omega? Why did you end up in this sickening place? You must have fucked up, bad.”

“Shut the hell up,” Sallie spat.

“Feisty. I like that.” A second prisoner spoke up, grinning towards her. Her hand began to rub Sallie’s thigh, causing her to flinch. “Oh, they were right about omegas… You are sensitive, huh, pretty girl?”

“Leave me the fuck alone…” She growled, nudging her off her thigh. “I don't fuck around like that. Just because I'm an omega doesn't mean I'm not strong.”

“But I think it does… You see, if all of us were to pin you against this table right now, there would be no escape. I think the guards would even join in on the fun! Either that or we would get thrown in the SHU, but none of us give a shit about that. All we care about is that we might be getting a wet hole to fuck…”

“Hey, knock it off.” A woman’s voice rang through, and the two immediately scattered, there was an instant heaviness in the air. The fear the voice instilled in the other alphas made Sallie nervous as fuck. She looked over and realized it was the voice of the woman she saw earlier. She was no longer looking at Sallie, she was now speaking to the girl with the awful hair.

“Oi Gapman, go sit with that cookie. And nobody fuck with her, got it?” A heavy Bronx accent rang out from that girl, she sounded almost annoyed to say what she did.

A few moments later a thin woman with greasy blonde hair came up to Sallie and sat with her. She was an Omega, Sallie could tell simply by her demeanour, and the alpha bite mark on her neck. Knowing she wasn’t the only omega here made her feel a little bit more safe.“Sorry about these guys, they’re awful here to omegas, but in my experience Carol doesn’t tolerate a bunch of horny alphas like Barb does over in D-Block, so you should be fine. Oh, I’m Chapman, uh, Piper.” She said and stuck her hand out.

Sallie shook her hand with a blank expression. “Carol?” She asked

“She runs the gang here in C-Block. Everything goes through her. I haven't been here long, but I’ve seen her gang do some shit, I wouldn’t mess with her. Oh and her fucking right hand is a bitch, Badison’s her name, the one who yelled at me to come over here in the first place.”

“Badison?” Sallie chuckled. “What kind of name is that?”

“I’m not entirely sure, but she’s my cellmate, and it’s torture. Don’t get on her bad side like I did. She’s just a beta, and honestly I think her attitude is to try to overcompensate for her genetics.”

Sallie just nodded and got lost in thought for a moment. She really didn’t care about this ‘Badison’ character. She did care about Carol though… The quick scurrying off from the other alphas made more sense now, they’re all scared of her. Sallie wonders how long she’s been in here for, and what she’s done.

——

About 15 minutes later, Sallie returned to her cell to try and get some rest. Upon entering she saw a short, blue haired girl sitting on the top bunk reading a book.

“Uh, hey, you must be my cellmate. I didn’t see you when I first got assigned. I’m Sallie Novak.”

The girl looked up from her book and grinned, hopping down from her bunk. “Great! They’re finally giving me a cellmate! I’m Jacs Walker, sorry I didn’t see you in admission, I’ve been in medical, caught a shiv in the ribs a couple days ago from a dickhead alpha over in D-Block.”

“Damn, sorry, that had to suck.” Sallie replied, kind of dumbfounded how positive this girl's energy was for just being shivved.

“It’s all good, shit happens, I shouldn’t have been trying to score from them. Anyways, you can have the bottom bunk, and those hooks there.” She pointed at the wall, “I know you’re an omega, but don't worry, I’m not into girls.”

Sallie nodded, not really sure how to respond, and she sat in her bunk. “If you don’t mind, I’m exhausted, I need some rest.”

“Of course, intake day is the worst! I’d know, I’ve been sent here 3 different times. Get some sleep.”

It wasn’t long before she drifted off to sleep with thoughts of large glasses and bright blue eyes…

#carol denning #carol denning x reader #present day carol denning #x reader #fanfic #oitnb #oitnb season 6 #oitnb fanfic #lesbian #abo #abo au #alpha/beta/omega dynamics

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catlynhoss05 · 3 years

Text

Home Sweet Home Ch. 1 P. 3

Meeting The Farm Family!

*NOT MY GIF*

Pairing: OC!baureader x Emily Prentiss x Criminal Minds

~starts in season 4~ (also, check out the links to see what Remi’s abs look like and to see what her arms look like when she flexes as well.. The links are all on the HSH masterlist.) (Click here for song when cued)

Chapter Summary: After the team finishes up with the case and return back to Remi’s childhood home, the team are in for an eventful evening. However, when the following day comes around, Emily’s in for a BIG surprise that makes everyone -herself included- say, “ABOUT TIME!!!”

After everyone had finished up with supper and the dishes were all cleaned up, Remi had excused herself so she could go and check the chickens. What Remi wasn’t expecting was that Asher had let the mean chicken -that only hated Remi- out of it’s cage to roam around the coop. The mean chicken liked everyone EXCEPT for Remi and Asher knew that. When she had left the house to go to the chicken coop, Asher turned back to the rest of the boys as everyone was just lounging around and started grinning like a fool.

“Asher, not again. You do remember the last time you messed with her, right?” Benjamin asked with a smile. “Oh, I remember. I still have that scar, but it’s totally worth it though.” Asher laughed. The team looked at each other with confused looks. “What’s going on?” JJ asked. Before anyone could answer her question, everyone heard Remi scream for Asher, and she sounded BEYOND pissed. “Oh God. She’s pissed… Remove anything glass and/or any valuables and BACK UP.” Harris explained, him and his brothers grabbing every piece of glass that was in view and hurrying to put them out of the way before Remi came back inside. Once everyone was backed up out of harms way, Remi had appeared in the patio doorway covered in feathers, a few broken eggs, and some chicken feces. Her fists were tightly clenched, and her face was red, which Emily was really turned on by seeing Remi so riled up. “You bastard.” Remi muttered. “If you two are gonna fight, take it out back so you don’t get everything dirty.” Carol insisted.

Nolan had pushed Asher out in the middle of the room to wait for his impending doom that is an angry Remi. “Rem-Remi, look. I am sorry, but we have not seen each other in a few months since you left for D.C. and I-I was just messing with you, okay? That’s just what we do.” Asher tried reasoning with his sister. However, that did not help much because that’s when Remi started charging at Asher, who decided to make a run for it out the front door. As Remi chased Asher around the house and to the back yard, everyone that was left in the house had all came out onto the patio to watch the scene. “So, uh… You two are okay with letting them fight it out?” Morgan asked Carol as they all looked on. “Since we have a total of 12 kids and Remi being the youngest and the only girl, we let them figure out their issues/problems that they have with each other on their own. Sometimes, depending on the situation, they fight it out and if the fights get way to out of hand, that’s when we have to intervene.” Carol explained, earning understanding nods from the team.

Remi had finally managed to tackle Asher in the middle of the yard and ended rolling together for a few seconds. Once they stopped rolling and were both laying in the yard on their backs, they started laughing and Remi had forgiven him. They both got up off the ground and made their way back up to the house. “Hey, hey… Both of you, shoes off before going inside the house. And take a shower after showing your team where they will be staying, Remington.” Joseph, Remi’s dad, ordered. After Asher and Remi kicked off their shoes, they had both followed everyone back inside the house. Remi went to grab her bags by the front door before turning to face the team to decide where everyone would be staying. “Okay, so I’ve thought about how the sleeping arrangements will be until Will, Henry, Jack and my doggo, Louisa, get here. So, until then, I have a double bed that has a mattress in my old room that is set up so JJ, Penelope and Emily can stay in there with me. You three ladies can borrow some of my old clothes and a pair of boots if needed. Uh, Hotch… You can stay in Asher and Eli’s old room. Rossi, you can stay in Sawyer’s old room. Derek, you can stay in Ryker’s old room and Spencer, you can stay Dallas’s old room.” Remi decided.

Hotch and the team all came over and grabbed their bags from the entryway and followed Remi upstairs to the rooms. Once Remi showed the men to their rooms, she then led Emily, JJ and Penelope to her old room that was down at the end of the hallway. “Okay, here we are. Oh, and about that secret that I had mentioned about earlier.” She paused as she worked on picking the lock to her bedroom door. “Ha, there we go, got it.” She chuckled, standing back up and turning towards the 3 women. “I-I finally got the lock picked… Anyway, the reason why I had said that I would show you ladies that secret of mine is because, well…. Come in and see for yourselves.” Remi suggested with a smirk, opening the door, and walking into the room. Emily, JJ, and Penelope followed her into the room a bit cautiously; not knowing what to expect exactly. When they took in some of the contents that were hanging on the wall nearest to the doorway, they were not expecting what they were looking at. “Oh wow. This is your secret, Remi? A collection of awards, newspaper clippings, plaques, ribbons, pictures and big trophies?” JJ asked. “Well, sort of…” Remi trailed off.

“What do you mean ‘sort of’?” Emily asked, confused. Penelope gasped after reading one of the many framed newspaper clippings on the wall, her gasp scaring Emily and JJ. “If you looked closely at the stuff on the wall, and I am quite sure that Penelope hit the jackpot on what my secret is, you would’ve read that I’m a two-time world record holder for bull riding. And before you ask what I mean when I said ‘two-time’, the first time that I broke the world record for bull riding was when I was 25 and the second time was when I was 29 and broke my first record time.” Remi explained to her female coworkers. JJ, Emily, and Penelope were all standing there in her room, starring at her with their mouths agape, as they tried to take in the information they were just told. “I’m also one of the top 5 best rodeo riders in the world.” Remi had finished explaining.

“I have a question to ask, and they probably do as well. Anyway, I could not help but notice this newspaper article of yours that is about Saddle Bronc Riding. What is that exactly?” Penelope asked, pointing at the article on the wall. “Saddle Bronc Riding is, in a way, sort of like bull riding yet it’s not. Bull riding is where you are obviously on a bucking bull, where as Saddle Bronc Riding is where you are on a bucking horse, or a bronc horse, earning the name Saddle Bronc Riding. However, there’s also Bareback Bronc Riding which I personally think is more difficult then the other.” Remi chuckled. “That’s interesting and awesome.” Penelope and JJ laughed. “And fucking hot.” Emily admitted aloud, silencing the room for a few seconds before Penelope and JJ started laughing again and making Remi blush a deep red and become bashful.

“That’s why my files are classified and why you couldn’t find any information on me or hack into my said files. Or even do a simple background check on me, Miss Penelope.” Remi laughed as she picked up her go-bag off the floor and putting it onto the cot bed. “How’d you know that I did that? Oh, and have you met any famous people?” The bubbly tech genius laughed as well as the other three women. “Honestly, I did not until you just admitted to doing so, but I did have my suspicions though. And yes, I have actually.” Remi laughed as she grabbed some clean clothes out of her bag before turning around to face Penelope. “Who all have you met, Remi?” Emily asked, setting her bags by the cot bed. “I have met George Strait a few times.” She smiled, then excused herself so she could go and shower before going to bed.

After Remi had left the room to go and shower, Emily, JJ and Penelope had all changed into their pajamas for bed. When Emily had finished changing her clothes, she turned to face Penelope and JJ and sat down on the cot bed. “Why do you the two of you get the king-sized bed for?” She asked quietly. “Because we got to the bed before you did. Plus, you need to get a move on with the whole crush on Remi situation. And yes, that means sleeping in the same bed with her if that’s what it’s gonna take.” JJ whispered. After about 20 minutes or so and after everyone got ready for bed, Remi had returned to her room wearing only a white Calvin Klein sports bra, matching white Calvin Klein’s boy short underwear with only the waistband showing and gray sweatpants that rode a bit low on her hips. Her hair was damp and askew from her somewhat drying her hair with a towel. Emily was still sitting on the cot bed while JJ and Penelope had already gotten comfortable in the king size bed.

Remi started to chuckle as she took in the state of the two in the king size bed. “I see that you two already made yourselves comfortable.” She laughed. “Well, it is pretty comfy.” Penelope laughed as well as JJ and Emily. Remi turned her attention back to her belongings that were still on the cot bed and moved them off the bed, setting them down in front of her closet. When she turned back to face Emily, she noticed that the raven-haired beauty was gawking at her and she smirked. “See somethin’ you like, Prentiss?” She asked as she moved a bit closer to Emily. “And if I do, are you gonna do something about it?” Emily quipped, leaning back onto her elbows on the cot bed. Remi just chuckled and moved to get a pair of socks to put on before getting into bed. “Are you gonna do anything, Remi?” JJ asked, wiggling her eyebrows at the young agent.

Before Remi could do or say anything to JJ, they all heard some whispering coming from the other side of the closed bedroom door. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. Every fucking time I have a girl in my room and the door just so happens to be closed.” Remi muttered, finishing putting her socks on before digging through her closet. “Nice looking ass you got there, Remington. But what are you looking for exactly?” Emily asked, hearing Remi bump her head on something and hearing her murmur a quiet ‘fuck’ under her breathe. “Aha, found it. And must you call me Remington?” Remi laughed as she pulled out her old red whip. “Wait, are you actually going to use that on them?” Penelope asked, sitting up in bed. “Oh, heavens no… You know how bad that would hurt them?” Remi asked. “They’re all scared of my whip. I would never hit anyone OR any animal with it. I only keep it around just to scare my brothers off if they’re buggin’ me.” Remi explained, walking over to her door quietly and made sure that the ladies stayed quiet.

Remi opened her door and shouted ‘HEY’ at Colten, Oliver and Nolan who were eavesdropping on their sister and her female coworkers. The three boys took notice of the red leather whip that was in her hand and started to run back down the hallway and down the stairs as well. Remi started to laugh as she went back into her bedroom and closed the door. “Oh man. That was great and tickles me every time.” She smiled, walking back over to her closet, and putting her whip back in its place. “Hey Remi.” Penelope spoke up. “Yes?” “What is that on your inner left bicep?” She asked curiously. Remi lifted her left arm to see what the tech genius was talking about. “Oh, that’s just my birthmark.” She explained, yawning, and stretching her arms above her head. “I think it’s time for us to get some shut eye.

Remi crawled onto the other side of the cot bed furthest away from the door since Emily already made herself comfortable. They all said their good nights to each other before drifting off into much needed sleep around 10 p.m.. Sometime around midnight, Remi had woken up because she had to go to the bathroom but had realized that she could not get up out of bed. “Uh, Emily?” She whispered. “Emily…” She whispered again but harshly this time. When the raven-haired beauty did not respond or make any attempt at moving off her, Remi decided to fix the problem herself. In one quick motion, Remi thought her plan would go smoothly as she wanted it to. And boy, was she wrong about that. She was hoping that she could smoothly roll Emily off her just enough for her to quickly jump up off the bed. However, when Remi had managed to roll Emily off her and back to her side of the cot, Emily started to wake up when Remi had her hips straddled with her knees and both of Remi’s hands on either side of her head.

“Uh, hi.” Remi whispered nervously. “If we’re going to do this, Remi, we’re going to have to be fast and quiet.” Emily whispered, grinning up at Remi. “As much as I would love that right now, we can’t. Plus, you were sleeping on top of me, and I have to pee.” Remi chuckled, getting off Emily and making her way to the bathroom. Once she came back to her room, she closed the door and then crawled back into bed to go back to sleep. “Night, Em.” She whispered. Emily smiled sleepily at the nickname that she used. “Night, Remi.” Emily took in her coworker’s sleeping figure and absolutely wanted to devour every inch of her and to be devoured and loved by her as well. But she knew that it was not the time or place to do that. Around 4 a.m., Remi’s alarm on her phone started to go off, waking up the young agent. She hurried to grab her phone to turn off the alarm so it would not wake up the other 3 women.

Once she got the alarm turned off, Remi carefully got out of bed and started to get dressed before leaving the bedroom, trying not to wake up her sleeping coworkers. As she made her way downstairs to get something to drink and to do a few morning stretches, she noticed all 11 of her brothers cuddled up together in the living room, chuckling to herself. Remi put on a pair of her old cowboy boots that she wears for whenever she’s home and works on the farm, grabs a few trays with a bunch of egg cartons on them and she heads out to collect eggs to make breakfast for everyone. About 2 and a half hours later, around 6:30 a.m. or so, Remi was relieved that she was finished with cleaning the chicken coop, feeding the chickens, and collecting eggs for breakfast for everyone. Grabbing the trays of filled egg cartons, she heads back to the house to start making some food. Remi kicks off her boots on the patio before entering the house and was greeted by a few of her brothers, Hotch, Rossi and Spencer awake and sitting at the island in the kitchen.

“Good mornin’, carbon-based lifeforms.” Remi greeted, earning some groans from Spencer and Rossi. “Well okay then. I got some eggs to make for breakfast if y’all are hungry.” Remi offered, watching Reid, Hotch and Rossi perk up at the mention of food. “Got any coffee?” Hotch asked. “Pfft, who do you think I am!?” Remi and Hotch laughed. “Yeah, it’s over there on the counter.” She pointed out. The rest of the team, Remi’s brothers and her parents started to wake up and make their ways downstairs to the kitchen and out of the living room for some food and coffee. Everyone got a plate of food and some coffee before sitting around the kitchen and living room and enjoying a nice, hot meal together. After a while when everyone was finished and just sitting around talking and drinking coffee, Sawyer spoke up from his seat on the couch. “So, Remi.” He paused, taking a sip of his coffee. “What, Sawyer?” She called out as she was filling up her coffee mug.

“When are you gonna make your move?” He asked, everyone else also chiming in. “What move?” Emily asked confused. Everyone, including Remi’s parents, were smiling at Remi, and waiting for her to say something. Remi came into view of everyone from the kitchen, looking like a nervous wreck. “Uh…” She cleared her throat. “We can do it now if that’s alright with everyone.” She suggested, getting a ‘yes’ from everyone except for Emily. Emily was sitting at the island along with JJ and Penelope while the rest of the team and Remi’s brothers were sitting around on the 2 sectionals in the living room. Remi came over and stood in front of Emily with something behind her back. “You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?” Emily asked, making everyone laugh. “No, I’m not gonna kill you… I have a surprise for you though. Well, technically two surprises. Anyway, these are for you.” Remi smiled, revealing a bouquet of beautiful red roses, and handed them to Emily. “Oh my gosh, these are gorgeous flowers, Remi. Thank you.” Emily smiled.

It was still noticeable that the raven-haired beauty was still confused on what the second surprise was going to be. Remi smiled, offering her hand to Emily. “C’mere. I still have that second surprise for you.” Emily took her hand and followed her over to the grand piano that was in the den. There was also a violin, a drum set and an acoustic guitar that were also set up in the den as well. Remi had motioned to Harris, Elijah, and Wyatt to come over as well. Remi had pulled out the piano bench and had let Emily sit down first before sitting down next to her. Once the three boys were ready for Remi’s cue, she had slightly turned to face Emily before they started playing. “Emily, I’ve had the biggest crush on you ever since the moment we had officially met the moment you had accidently spilled your ridiculously hot coffee all over my shirt on my first day at the BAU.” Remi explained, laughing at the memory. She turned her body back to face the piano. “Emily Prentiss, this song is for you.” Remi smiled.

(Cue Song)

(Harris plays violin; Elijah plays drums; Wyatt plays guitar; Remi obviously sings/plays piano)

You don’t have to go now, honey

Call and tell ‘em you won’t be in today

Baby, there ain’t nothin’ at the office

So important it can’t wait

I’m thankful for the weekend

But two days in heaven just ain’t gonna do

This is gonna take forever, darlin’

Girl, I just got started lovin’ you

What’s the point in fightin’ what we’re feelin’

We both know we’ll never win

Ain’t this what we’re missin’

Let’s just stop all this resistin’ and give in

Let me wrap my arms around you

You know you don’t want to leave this room

Come back and let me hold you, darlin’

Girl, I just got started lovin’ you

Everyone, especially Emily, were all enjoying hearing Remi and her brothers sing and play the song. They’re also relieved that Remi finally had told Emily how she felt about her and was finally doing something about it.

What can I say, I’ve never felt this way

Girl, you’re like a dream come true

After all the love we’ve made

It sure would be a shame

If we let this moment end so soon

So won’t you lay back down beside me

Girl, just like I know you’re wantin’ to

Trust me when I tell you, darlin’

Girl, I just got started lovin’ you

I ain’t gonna stop

Oh yeah

What can I say, I’ve never felt this way

Girl, you’re like a dream come true

After all the love we’ve made

It sure would be a shame

If we let this moment end so soon

I’m thankful for the weekend

But two days in heaven just ain’t gonna do

This is gonna take forever, darlin’

Girl, I just got started lovin’ you

Come back and let me hold you, darlin’

Girl, I just got started lovin’ you

Gonna hang out all week long

Laughing, loving, kissing, hugging baby

After they finished the song, Remi turned herself so that she’s facing Emily and her cheeks started to turn pink as well as the tips of her ears. “So, will you be my girlfriend, Emily?” She asked bashfully. “Yes, I would love to be your girlfriend and it’s about time you asked.” Emily laughed as well as everyone else. Remi beamed, cupping Emily’s face in her hands and leaning forward a bit to kiss her sweetly. Everyone started to cheer, and Penelope decided to shout, “ABOUT TIME!!!” The new couple broke apart from each other and started laughing at Penelope’s excitement when she shouted. Remi and Emily had both stood up from the piano and moved so Remi could put the bench back where it was before exiting the den. They stopped in front of the team when Hotch spoke up. “You both do realize that you’re going to have to go Strauss and tell her, right?” Hotch asked in all seriousness. “Yeah, about that. She already knows.” Remi smirked. “How does she already know about you two getting together?” Hotch asked, clearly confused as his eyebrows furrowed together as everyone else’s did too.

“Remember that rare sighting of Strauss smiling and being nice to me last week?” Remi asked. “Yeah.” Rossi spoke up. “That’s because she had pulled me into her office and asked when I was going to ask Emily out. And how do y’all think we got 2 weeks of paid vacation time to spend here in Nashville after the case?” Remi chuckled, receiving shocked looks from everyone including Hotch. “For some odd reason, Strauss actually likes me. I don’t know why though.” Remi paused. “And don’t get any ideas about having me asking her for more paid vacations… MORGAN.” Hotch and Rossi laughed, watching Derek putting his hands up in surrender.

It was around 8:30/9:00 a.m. when there was a knock at the front door. “I’ll get it.” Colten said, getting up from his spot on one of the sectionals. Everyone else was just sitting around together enjoying each other’s company for the time being. Remi and Emily were sitting together on a couple bar stools at the island in the kitchen. “You know, the way that you’re sitting right now is giving me the perfect view down the front of your shirt.” Remi grinned happily, making Emily blush a little bit. “See anything you like!?” Emily asked teasingly. “Oh, very much so.” Remi played along, leaning into kiss Emily. Before the two could kiss, Colten came back into the living room – there is a big opening that connects the kitchen and living room together – and had a few guests with him. “Hey, look what the cat dragged in.” Colten chuckled, moving out of the way to show everyone that Will, Henry, Jack and Louisa had arrived.

JJ, Hotch and the rest of the team had gotten up off the couch to greet them. “Louisa… Hey sweet girl.” Remi called out as she crouched down so she could greet her dog. Louisa practically ran over and jumped into Remi’s arms and immediately started giving her kisses. “Okay, okay. That’s enough for now. Can you sit?” Remi asked, watching Louisa do what she asked. Remi stood back up and turned to Emily who was smiling at her. “Should I be jealous!?” She asked sarcastically. Remi rolled her eyes at her girlfriend with a smirk. “Emily and the rest of the team, this is my 2-year-old German Shepard, Louisa… Louisa, this is my team that I told you about and this is Emily.” Remi said. “Louisa, can you say hi to everyone?” Louisa barked and nudged Emily’s leg with her paw. “She wants you to shake.” Remi smiled.

“Hi, Louisa. I’m Emily… I’m your mom’s girlfriend and coworker.” The raven-haired beauty smiled, shaking the dog’s paw. As Louisa made her way around the room to each team member – also including Jack, Henry and Will – to shake hand and paw, Will looked between Remi and Emily before turning to JJ. “Wait, girlfriend?” He asked, earning a nod from everyone. “About time the two of you finally got together.” He laughed.

#emily prentiss x oc #emily prentiss fluff #Emily Prentiss angst #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #home sweet home

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inked-out-trees · 3 years

Note

⭐ for The Keep Going Song? Thanks! :)

(anh i would die for you)

Thank you for asking! I am going to be talking about the whole thing because it's fun, and because there's not really many ~secrets~ within the text to ramble about, just little fun snippets!

I'll do it under a cut because I will definitely ramble. Woohoo!

I came across The Keep Going Song (the song) after my Lookout 3 Companion Playlist (& my spotify discovery) introduced me to the Bengsons. The effect was almost instantaneous - it's the kind of warmth I try to encompass in everything I do, and for the next few days I had it on repeat as I worked. This was around the time I was finishing my Lookout script, and I had been toying with the idea of writing a Cornleyverse fic after absolutely devouring all 10 fics in the tag. What I knew was that I wanted it to be sweet, I wanted it to pull them all together, and I wanted it to be a progression. Despite only having seen the Goes Wrong Show, jumping into the fandom made me want to dimensionalize these characters and give them a story beyond everything that had already occured.

I also watched Christmas Carol before / during the writing process, but to date I have not watched Peter Pan or the full-length TPTGW. My prior knowledge comes from Wikipedia, the delightul amateur TPTGW production on YouTube, a friend's excellent transcription of the Haversham Manor script, and tumblr meta analysis. I think I did a reasonable enough job pretending I knew what I was doing.

Let's get going!

I knew off the top that it was going to be vignettes - they would give me room to spread the story over the long period of time it takes for a group of people to grow into something resembling a family. Like I said in the original author's note, there was supposed to be more of the early, snippy days - but I got so focused on making them kinder that I found I couldn't properly write a fight. In hindsight, it probably would have been easier if I tried writing that first, but, well. Once I realized that it was too late. The alphabet idea came later, once I had them all finished: I wanted to organize them somehow, but numbers felt too open, too infinite - closing the story on an organizational endpoint was just really satisfying.

a - Every good story needs a good beginning.

c - Starting with the end of Peter Pan is my sneaky way of slipping past the fact that I haven't seen the earlier shows! The Max and Sandra storyline is just so sweet, and I wanted to let it exist a little bit in between our jump from Peter Pan to Christmas Carol. This vignette came so easily when I wrote it and I love love love the feelings and the tentativity about the whole thing.

f - This was actually the last vignette I wrote. I realized I needed some front-end padding because otherwise my angst plot came rather abruptly, and what better way? At this point, too, I was trying to bring in POVs from each one of our characters, and when deciding on Trevor's POV I thought the exasperation-excitement combination would be an excellent choice. It turns out Trevor is my favourite to write, mostly because I can find his voice a lot easier than some of the others - and probably also because I hold a lot of fondness and nostalgia for stage crew work. Also, I wrote most of this one on a long evening walk in the notes app on my phone. Fun fact.

h - I did my original idea slam in a draft tumblr post, and this one just says "birthday party but one without all the drama of christmas carol". And what do you know, that's exactly what it is! I definitely took the birthday party (in CCGW as well as in this fic) as a kind of proof that they really do like each other, if they're doing things like this and if they want to do things like this - and that theme of okay, they want to be here formed the basis for this part. I think it's exceptionally sweet that Dennis came looking for friends and ended up finding, well, something. And I popped in a little MMNI reference with "one of the Janines" - Backwards Janine? Frontwards Janine? Original Janine? Who knows! It's one of them!

l - The thing about this plot is that it's actually one of the first ideas I had when dreaming up this fic, and I couldn't quite let it go. The point was, what if I somehow split them up? How can they get on when half the society is out of commission? And the most reasonable way I could find to actually get half of them out of commission was the car accident. To be honest, this one is mostly filler - it's also the second vignette I wrote, and it found its birth in the email drafts of my work laptop.

m - Trying to map out this little plotline without overdoing it might have been the most difficult part of this fic, and I'm still not 100% sure I succeeded. This is our explanation for the unease from the vignette above, and it took me 3 rewrites before I finally found something that settled in my brain. "Dennis gets chased by a goose" might be one of my favourite lines in the fic though.

Also, putting these letters right next to each other made me feel really clever for no reason.

n - My Jonathan perspective also took a few stutter-steps in its beginning, but this one ultimately came from the promo video's reveal that Robert and Dennis live together, and me playing with the continual idea of the remaining cast members being rather unmoored in their injured castmates' absence. Robert in particular because I love his character and I love making him Feel Things(TM) (fun hint: this will also be a small theme in the new cpds fic I have in the works!) and I want to see so much from this odd relationship between him and Dennis. Obviously they have to tolerate each other if they are willingly roommates - how far can I go with that? I love how this one turned out.

o - All I have to say about this one is that I still really love the sweetness between these two, and they deserve the world. Also, at some point during writing this I was really caught up with how striking Dave's face silhouette is (don't ask) so that ended up making it in somehow.

q - Girls' Night is SO important to me. After all the work they've done to make these gals friends I needed to capture it, and a pleasant night in just made a lot of sense. This one is the home of a few of my headcanons - Annie has a chef roommate and Max does a lot of the cooking, thus the "neither of us are the usual household cooks" comments, and I also think they're at the point where they can joke about their previous failures (especially with these three together) so the nod to A Trial To Watch (my favourite gws episode) was so fun. Also, Waking Ned really is a silly pick-me-up of a movie - would recommend. Special thanks to CBC for giving us Canadians quality British TV alongside our occasionally questionable homegrown programming.

r - It wouldn't be a fic about progress and growth with this crew without a disheartening moment turned into gold. I wrote this one while barbecuing, another fun fact, and no joke the hardest part was figuring out what to name the play they were doing. I kept pace with the whole "Jonathan can't get onscreen" gag, which was personally hilarious and made me cackle as I wrote it, and the rest of it just felt good. I will always have a soft spot for comfort and reassurance in a story and getting to write it has just been an absolute delight.

t - This was one of my other unplanned vignettes. It was originally to fill out Robert's POV, but also to express a bit of how things have changed in Chris's attitude towards his cast - if there's one thing I would change from Mischief's characerisation thus far, it's this brand of almost-kindness that I consistently need to write him with. It takes the aftermath of the car accident and uses it to kind of make him understand - this is a valuable group of people and I don't want to lose it. But of course he's not the type of person to actually express that in any way, so I thought the frenetic hovering was a good way to get the point across. As well, the kind-of-bonding between Chris and Robert - the two of them are such powerhouses of insistent personality that conflict so easily but they've also got a more secret kind of friendship that deserves to be explored a little more. I really like this vignette and how it ended up portraying how they are around each other, how they really do know each other, especially when they're not fighting. Makes me soft.

w - This is the first vignette I wrote! I honestly didn't realize until writing this just how much I identify with Annie - best of both worlds re. crew and cast, a bit of tenacity regarding getting through things, overall personality - I just love her so so much. She also seems like the most sensible of the cast, so the collective "why are we really here?" moment with Trevor really spoke to me. I love their friendship, I love the kind of quiet vibe this vignette gives off - this is one of the ones I can feel most strongly, the one I can step into and exist inside. I also spent most of my old drama rehearsals and classes without shoes, so that had to make it in just by virtue of the sock brigade (me).

z - One thing I knew for sure since the inception of the fic was that it needed to end on a victory. I took the images I had of this victorious adrenaline, everyone together having a good time, kind of getting smashed, and karaoke (I really wanted the karaoke, for some reason) and went the obvious route: the wedding. Ending on Chris POV also felt so right - possibly because he's the one with the most growth in this fic - and getting to finally feel this triumph with him after all these other trials and tribulations was an absolute joy. The wedding hall, in my head, looks like the one my cousin used (it was at a zoo... my sister and I went on a night walk and heard a lot of screaming peacocks) and I definitely threw all my wistfulness, all my love for the characters I'd developed, and all my love for this fantastic fandom into this part. The incorrect lyrics that Annie sings are exactly what I think every time I hear that song, because I've never looked up the lyrics before and my brain likes to play Mad Libs with my super-questionable auditory processing. And the image of the ballroom staff getting really exasperated with them and shutting all the lights off came to me at night and is hastily scribbled on a sticky note (it's a wonder it's legible) but I still strongly believe that it's the perfect, perfect way to end. I still get the warm feelings when I reread this part, even now, after so many reads.

And, finally - our end quote is exactly what started this whole thing. What is this drama society if not a rough beginning? But the concept that we'll make it through, that we can just take a step and then another and it'll be okay because we're together... it's hard to describe just how much it means to me, to my place in the world, to the world itself. I think one of my rather consistent aims in writing, no matter what it is, is to be able to have this collective - characters that become family, people that are important to each other, this constellation to lean on - because it's all I can say for the human experience. It's probably quite a bit of wishful thinking (as I said to another friend, "I am apparently letting loose on all my repressed social feelings of the past year and shoving them into fics") and a sort of subconscious confirmation that if I write it, I can be it. So this force of understanding and kindness and ultimately good people helping each other through the world is something I can't help but include, something that means the absolute world to me.

I'm so glad to have been able to share this fic with everyone, and extra glad that it's been able to touch some people along the way. I've found such an incredible community in Mischief and coincidentally I think The Keep Going Song represents that warmth, too - the community I've been so lucky to exist inside, how we're helping each other along, step by step. What a beautiful thing to be a part of! Thank you for reading and allowing me to give you a bit of my heart. 💖💖

#director's cut #the keep going song

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