#[[ Rick is being petty in the second part ]] | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mortytheestallion · 4 years ago

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tasting glass

Part 2 Part 3

Rating: 18+ (No minors); explicit

Wordcount: 1.6k

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

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

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

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

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

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

He didn’t need anybody.

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

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

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

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

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

“You have some fucking nerve.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, I-I should go.”

“Typical.”

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

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

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

“Come on, baby, I-I didn’t mean it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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thefanficmonster · 4 years ago

Note

Hey, I'm the 3word anon! I guess to make this easier, you call call me 📚🌻

I just wanted to say that you did an amazing job! I loved reading what you've done! You said that you wanted more words so here it is your next words: tradition, needle and tribute

Love, 📚🌻

I'm so glad you liked it dear 📚🌻 ! I absolutely love this challenge and I don't think I'll ever get tired of it hehe. Hope you enjoy this one too!

Freedom

Pairing: Rick Flag x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of drug use, Mentions of injury Spoiler Free 😊

Genre: Romance, Humor

“Flag, I have someone coming on-board with you.“ Waller’s voice comes in through the radio of the jet colonel Rick Flag was about to take off with, taking the Suicide Squad on their newly assigned mission.

He rolls his eyes, engine of the jet roaring to signal it’s ready to lose contact with the ground and rise up into the skies - much like Rick, who’s already fed up with the Squad’s members who are explicitly annoying and pesky today, promising him a ton of headaches in the near future. With that in mind, these news Waller has given him so suddenly, he’s not particularly excited to welcome another lunatic on the jet. Another lunatic to deal with.

“Who the hell are you sending? Don’t you think my hands are already full enough?!“ He yells at the top of his lungs in order for his voice to overpower the engine’s loudness.

“I’m here to help you, you ungrateful piece of shit!“ This voice, familiar voice, doesn’t emerge from the radio, instead it’s coming from right behind him and is equally as strained as his due to the loud, ear-bleeding surroundings.

Before Rick can even comprehend the presence of another person, said person gets seated on the copilot’s seat, equipping a pair of headphones so the two can communicate without pushing their lungs to the brink of giving out.

“What the hell are you doing here, L/N?“ He asks, his eyes unable to hide even a little bit of the confusion that the girl’s presence has brought upon him.

Contrary to his seriousness and shock, the girl gives him a bright, almost teasing smile, “Oh come on, Flag. I have a soft spot for you, you know, I like helping you.“ She tilts her head ever so slightly, “And I don’t feel like giving Waller the pleasure of detonating this bomb at the back of my neck.“

“Thought so.“ He scoffs, watching Y/N’s movements out of the corner of his eye as she straps herself in.

She rolls her eyes, cracking her knuckles before turning to him, deciding to pick up on this petty war, just to make matters worse for Rick and more amusing for herself, “Aren’t you gonna shoot me? I mean, it’s our tradition.”

Rick cringes, recalling the exact event - or rather events, plural - she’s referring to: the night he arrested her and a few others, all henchmen of the Joker. Unlike her co-workers however, Y/N put up one hell of a fight while those fuckers chose flight. Their decision didn’t get them far while hers led her to the hospital wing of the Belle Reve prison, a bullet in her side fired at her by colonel Flag. Seeing the report files on the altercation, Waller immediately knew the girl was something else and recruited her for the Suicide Squad.

Unfortunately, her first instinct when her eyes first landed upon the colonel was to pounce at him, despite her low chances of succeeding in her intentions considering there were guards and soldiers literally everywhere, all with guns ready to fire. Yet still, Flag was the one who shot her yet again, this time less dangerously close to fatal.

Yeah, she has a right to be pissed and a right to call it their tradition, but it’s also safe to say that their dynamic has improved. They went on to go on a few more missions together without any complications or unwanted altercations. Sure, there were snide remarks and petty comments here and there, but those could be considered compliments when compared to the shootings.

“When are you gonna let that go?“ Rick snaps, his eyes remaining fixated ahead while the jet slowly ascends, “I got you off the streets. I freed you from that psychopath. The last thing you should be is mad!”

There is a long pause between the two, leading Rick to sneak a glance at his co-pilot. She appears to be deep in thought, staring ahead much like he’s supposed to be doing right now. She doesn’t seem like she’s conjuring up a sarcastic response which would be totally up her alley, but oddly enough she seems to be genuinely thinking about what he said. He starts feeling a bit shitty for having snapped at her like that - she wasn’t completely wrong to keep rubbing it in his face, she did suffer two gunshot wounds from him, after all.

“I’m not mad.“ Y/N finally speaks up, not sparing him as much as a look, “I’m grateful. The Joker isn’t the only thing I was trying to escape. One half the day I was doing his dirty work, the other half I had a needle stuck in my arm or was out cold in a drug induced half-coma.“ This time she does turn to take in the expression change that’s happened on his face and she seems pleased with the shock and confusion she sees. “Bet you didn’t know that, did ya?“ Contemplating her next move for a second, she plays with the belts of her bulletproof vest and gear before seemingly deciding on what to do. Her fingers quickly undo the belts and buttons of the gear that’s covering her torso, removing the strong and dense protective material to expose the skin of her side where there’s a scar where she had to have surgery to get the bullet removed. Around the scar there’s a tattoo of a peculiar looking flower, masking the line as a part of itself, “I got that tattoo as a reminder of that night. A tribute to more than one freedom coming to me at once.” She quickly readjusts her gear, and slumps into the seat with a sigh of a deflating balloon. “No longer a slave, no longer an addict. Though, addicts are slaves too - slaves to our own brain’s dependency on a substance that’s destroying us.”

Rick is at a loss for words. He wasn’t expecting that, never did he think Y/N was an addict as well prior to being a henchwoman and then a prisoner. That’s probably due to the fact that she’s always been in a great physical shape, ready to take on the enemy whenever and wherever. “Damn, fucking hell, I’m sorry you had to go through that, Y/N...“ He really doesn’t know what’s there to say when he now feels even shittier than he did before.

He almost jumps out of his skin when he feels her hand on his bicep, “I would still be going through it if it wasn’t for you. In fact, come to think of it, I should apologize for pouncing at you like that when all you did was do me a favor.” She giggles quietly before adding, “But I won’t.”

He too allows himself a small laugh, “I wasn’t expecting you to.“

Of course he wasn’t, he’s come to know her well. And he also knows it’s nothing personal - Y/N is simply not the type of girl who apologizes. That he can stomach, but imagining his co-pilot seat unoccupied on the way back from this mission he cannot.

Damn it, Flag. God fucking damn you, you’ve done it again haven’t you, he asks himself, knowing the answer perfectly well already.

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heresathreebee · 3 years ago

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KINKTOBER DAY 8 Seduction

Rick Flag X Reader smut

Tag(s): 18+ | 1.6k words | oral female receiving, teasing, ndercover, drinking, unedited

AN: reader has base 17 skill in slight of hand

You're his target. A cat burglar who has taken something of too high a value to risk losing. That's why Waller is sending him in with an unusual ask.

"Seduce the target, steal the necklace, bring it back."

This is not the colonel's skill set and Waller seems to be banking on the fact that he's handsome but this is a terrible idea. You can't hustle a hustler and you can't burgle a professional burglar. He doesn't even know if you're dangerous that is how blind he is going into his mission.

Backup is literally just two idiots and Cleo in the same room. Peacemaker is bad at acting natural (literally staring at you at all times), but Dubois is too casual (taking drinks and chatting up the elite guests just to try take them down a peg and frankly he's just making enemies at this point).

Rick is feeling kind of fucked on this one.

He catches your eye in a moment of weakness (his, not yours). He's downing his third champagne flute out of nervousness when he notices you notice him with his flute basically upside down. He clears his throat in embarrassment.

"I'm… uh… not familiar with these types of parties…"

You smile almost kindly at him. He's been tugging at his tie all night– you saw him across the room. "Need some air?"

You offer your arm to him and he hesitantly takes it. Rick can hear Waller in his comm sighing 'fucking finally' because he has been at this party for almost an hour unable to get close to you. You take him outside to a balcony with a wrought iron french style railing.

"Thanks," Rick sighs.

It's not the most dignified move of his mission, but he's with you isn't he? You offer your drink and he declines. "Nervous, dear? Whatever for?"

Rick shifts his weight and does some quick thinking on the spot. "Babysitting gigs aren't really my thing."

"Oh?," you chuckle, "and who might you be babysitting? Is it the little girl in the french satin or the blond Eye of Sauron?"

Jesus of course you noticed Peacemaker. At least you didn't notice Dubois (yet). "Both. The young lady is my boss' daughter, and the um, the Watcher is a coworker."

"Security detail?"

"Something like that, we're not used to low profiles, you might say."

You laugh and polish off your drink. That's when he notices your neck. The gleaming, fat jewels of the British monarchy, just dangling from your neck above a tasteful dress bodice.

You give him your name. Like your actual name, not one of your dozens of aliases. "And you are?"

"Charmed and unfortunately on the clock," he replies, "stop me if I'm being too forward but would you like to go out for a drink another night?"

"What are you doing?!," Waller cursed, "she's wearing it, Flag, get it now!"

What is she mad at him for this time– sticking to the plan?? They're supposed to get the necklace undetected and they sent the soldier to do it, not a pickpocket. The plan was to smooze it up until they could find someone with a modicum of decorum at petty theft. Stealing from the world's greatest jewel thief.

Flag elects to ignore her. You, for your part, seem disappointed by his decision. "Are you sure you can't slip away for a minute? Sauron seems like he's pretty much got it covered."

Just then the sound of shouting and lots and lots and lots of glass shattering rose from beyond the french balcony doors. You looked over his shoulder but he knows it's one of his idiots.

"That man just knocked aaaalll of those crystal wine glasses down from the tower..."

"That," Rick sighed, "would be my boss."

Dubois is a fucking mess, that's how they finally caught him. Challenged him to a drinking game to dull his senses then arrested his drunk ass and threw him in Belle Reeve.

Rick feels your hand slip inside his jacket– not to lift something but to feel him– a second before your very nice body pressed to the front of his suit. He looked at you with a poorly disguised anticipation for what you might do or say next.

You gave him a pouting lip. "You're really gonna leave a girl hanging, mystery security guy?"

Rick bit his lip in thought. He knows what Waller wants him to do but it feels wrong. At least you're attractive and maybe he can justify it because you're one of the 'bad guys.'

"My name is Rick," he replies, "and I guess I'm not going anywhere fast."

"Oh yes you are," you reply with excitement. "You! Are coming with me."

"Where?"

"Somewhere private, handsome. We're not the only ones on this balcony." You take him by the hand and drag him to the end of the balcony. He panics and grabs your other hand when you climb over the railing. "Relax baby, I need to grab a key. Keep a lookout, will you?"

He watches you scuttle away, the long skirt of your gown whipping around your ankles as you disappear. Cool, now he's an accessory to a crime you're committing. There's no way the room will be yours.

You come back and dangle a key marked 500. He helps you climb back onto the correct side of the railing and you both take an elevator to the penthouse floor. 500 turns out to be the porter's room adjacent to the penthouse suite to your disappointment.

"Let's not push our luck," Rick reasons.

God, was really about to do this? Is this where his career had taken him? To a penthouse with a notorious jewel thief and his boss in his ear about to witness an intense undercover moment of intimacy?

When did Rick Flag become fucking James Bond?

You snatch the device from his ear and submerge it in a glass of scotch on the vanity. "No interruptions. No exceptions."

Well… at least he can find some enjoyment now. Rick allows you to work his suit off piece by piece. You seem to savor every layer that comes off, bringing him closer and closer to being laid bare before you. The feeling of being… admired, almost worshipped so openly strikes him unexpectedly.

When you free the last button of his shirt he cups your cheeks and kisses you tenderly. You seem to melt beneath his attention, molding your body with his and breathing him in.

It doesn't feel wrong like before. He was worried about feeling like he was using you but… this is different. Rick slides the gown from your shoulders and works your dress off you. To say your underthings were sparse is pretty accurate and in an instant you stand before his kneeling figure in nothing but a thong and a necklace.

Oh fuck the necklace thats why ue was here!

"You should take that off too, I'd hate for something to happen to it while we're… you know," he winks.

You laugh, "oh honey, this is an eagle clasp– I need a whole fucking tool to take it off and I do not have that on me right now."

You finger one of the shiny off white jewels and say, "you are right though… need to protect it from getting damaged…"

Rick's not sure how but you trick him into agreeing to be tied to the headboard naked as the day he was born. Once the ties are secured you sit your cute butt right over his chest.

"Comfortable?"

Rick nods his head. His heart's pounding and he's convinced you can feel it against your clothed core. You seem to revel in the control you have over him and there's a part of him that hopes you use it to the fullest extent.

"I'm gonna ride that pretty face, baby." You leaned back casually and Rick jumps when your hand wraps around his cock roughly. "And then I'm going to fuck you raw. Sound good?"

Rick nods, unable to stop himself from bucking into your hand. The first taste of your pussy is like a drug, he eagerly laps at your clit, his hips rocking into nothing as he thinks about how good you're going to feel around his cock.

Your moans are going to be the soundtrack to every wet dream he has for years to come and the feeling of your thighs crushing his head fills him with pride.

"Jesus, Mary, Joseph…"

You're one step away from crossing yourself– this man eats pussy like it's his job. What would he be like if you let him use his hands…? No! No, you have other plans.

Your pussy leaves wet streaks on his chest as you climb down his body. Rick is on the verge of begging for you to go faster, to fuck him like you own him (he has completely forgotten the mission at this point).

And just when you're about to slide his schlong in your dripping heat–

Peacemaker breaks the door down.

Amanda Waller scolds the entire team in a limo ride home. Dubois and Cleo are asleep, Peacemaker fuming silently and very intent to avoid looking at his CO, and Rick– well Rick is distracted trying to keep himself covered with a blanket. No low profile, Rick didn't get to come, and they didn't have the necklace.

He did get a kiss goodbye and the ornament from your hair as a token. He twirls it in his hand and shows it to Cleo, elbowing her awake.

"Hm?" Cleo rubs the sleep from her eyes and examines it. "Oh! This is fermoir. You use it to fasten and unfasten the clasp of the Toussaint."

Rick looks at it again. "She said she didn't have it…"

"Clearly she lied," Peacemaker grumbles.

Cleo looks around at everybody. "Umm, Mr Flag sir? Do you realize you're wearing the necklace?"

"I'm what??" Sure enough, Rick reaches for his neck and well how did he not notice that.

#kinktober #three bees writing #rick flag x reader #colonel rick flag #🐝🐝🐝✒

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anne-chloe · 3 years ago

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Destined To Survive |11|

| Negan x YA!F!Reader (Ricks Niece) |

Summary: You’re forced to watch as Daryl is given your punishment.

(Part 10 Here) (Part 12 Here)

Eleven | Daryl Dixon

It was the middle of the night when he returned back from his hunting trip. He stalked into the makeshift camp with a limp deer slung over his shoulder, crossbow gripped in his hand, a certain tiredness behind his eyes.

You sat by yourself in front of the fire, being the last one awake save for Dale perched on top of the caravan. You observed the way Daryl sauntered in, avoiding eye contact as he simply slung the dead deer to one side, not a word spoken. The fire illuminated the grim expression across his face; how young he looked.

“You’re back,” you muttered softly, not wanting to disturb the lulling snores emitting from the tents behind. You hugged your knees close, a small comforting act that kept you feeling safe in these dark, unsure times. “I was worried you’d gotten hurt.”

Daryl snorted, a look of surprised flashing briefly across his face. “Worried? Save that for your family, kid.”

You furrowed your brows together. “I’m not a kid, Daryl. I’m nineteen,” you said in a matter-of-fact way, similar to how a child would be petty and correct their friend over something mundane. “And you are family now, we’ve been through so much together already.”

Daryl seemed to tense at your statement, almost like he wasn’t sure how to accept it. He pondered it for a moment or two, his expression softening ever so slightly before hardening into an upset frown. He roughly waved you off, a snarl curling at his downturned lips.

“Sayin’ ya ain’t a kid when that’s exactly what a kid would say,” he grunted, “we ain’t family.”

You didn’t get the chance to say anything more as Daryl stomped away, leaving you alone in the twisting fire and the presence of a dead deer. You stared off in the direction he left in, heart clenching in sadness. The world was too dark for hate and resentment, especially when it needed support and a tight knit community at this very moment.

You were uncomfortable.

Squished in the middle of Negan’s underlings, their eyes trained on you like murderous assassins, you felt suffocated and trapped despite the room being so large and airy. You hated every second and every minute that dragged by, wishing for nothing more than to disappear.

Negan stood in the centre of the room, grinning at the circle that had already gathered around him. You stood relatively towards the front, having no other choice but to have front row seats to whatever would happen next.

And what did happen next, it made you feel sick.

Daryl was roughly shoved into the centre, his knees giving out before tumbling to the floor. His ragged hair fell over his eyes, but you could see the way his face twisted into a scowl. He pulled himself to his feet, his chest puffing out as Negan stepped towards him, his body shaking and shuddering in defence.

Negan curled his fingers into his palm, raised his arm and struck Daryl across the face. You lurched forwards and let out a wail, but Laura held you back by the upper arm. She restrained you, not letting you move in either direction, and forced you to watch.

“What’re you doing?”

“Hm?” You looked over your shoulder, barely acknowledging the gruff man before shrugging him off, returning your attention back to the animal traps you were trying to put together. Shane had been a bit harsh with you earlier, mentioning how you didn’t fully contribute to the group, and that upset you quite a lot. So, to prove him wrong, and to make it known you were valuable to the group, you decided to bring back some food.

“Catching dinner,” you muttered. The trap suddenly snapped shut; you yelped and snatched your hand back, holding it close to your chest as a trail of blood leaked down your palm. You groaned, glancing between the failed idea and the consequence.

You sighed, using your foot to push the broken trap away. It was straight back to the drawing board—what else could you do for the group?

“Yer bleedin’.”

Looking up from the floor, your brows furrowed together in confusion. Concern crossed Daryl’s face, a frown set upon his lips, eyes looking downturned with worry. You spared a glance at your hand, a numbness spreading through your body at the acknowledgement of the blood trickling down your hand.

“Oh, yeah, it’s fine,” you half heartedly assure, “I’ll ask Aunt Lori to bandage me up or something.”

To your surprise, Daryl crouched next to you. He took your hand in his and carefully examined the wound. You stared with wide eyes, more surprised at how gentle this gruff, lone wolf man was being, especially after you’d seen him being so cold hearted alongside Merle upon first meeting them.

“C’mon,” Daryl muttered, helping you to your feet. You timidly walked beside him back to the main camp area, his hand cradling your injured one. He sat you down near his tent and started rummaging through his belongings, fishing out some bandages and other items. Once gathered, he crouched back in front of you and started to carefully clean the wound.

You winced at the alcohol entering your system, but steadied yourself so you wouldn’t flinch. You didn’t want to annoy Daryl or scare him away, especially since he was being so kind to you. So you bit your tongue and endured the fleeting pain.

And once Daryl was finished wrapping the bandage around your hand, you held your hand up and admired his handy work in awe. Daryl glanced between you and your injury, an indescribable emotion flashing in his eyes. You grinned at Daryl.

“Thank you, Daryl.”

Daryl stayed quiet for a beat of a moment. A scowl then presented itself across his face. “Whatever.” He stood from the floor and started to walk away, but he suddenly paused and glanced back at you from over his shoulder. He seemed to be pondering something, the gears turning rapidly inside his head, an internal debate happening.

“C’mere,” he gestured you over, “I’ll show ya how to make a proper trap.”

Daryl fought back as best as he could. He held his ground despite the intense kicks and punches flying his way. Anger consumed him, a frustration building inside that even if he did somehow win this fight, he’d be tackled and beaten to near death by Negan’s merry hand of Saviours.

You could only helplessly watch, a suffocating guilt aching from within. You choked back wails and sobs, not wanting to distract Daryl, but unable to control your emotions. This was your fault—if you hadn’t tried to escape, if you’d just waited for a better moment, Daryl wouldn’t be taking the brunt force of your punishment.

Laura steadied you on your feet, her weight supporting yours. You weren’t even aware of how gentle her grip was on you, or the way her fingers gently combed your hair in a soothing motion. You were too focused, too broken to even notice the smaller details of your situation. Daryl was hurting, and it was your fault.

“Claimed!”

Bowing your head in defeat, you squeeze your eyes closed and accept your inevitable fate. You didn’t know these men, and they didn’t know you, yet their cruel intentions were crystal clear. They would more than likely have their way with your body then discard you to the Walkers, and being severely outnumbered meant you couldn’t do anything about it.

After the Prison fell, you’d lost sight of your family. You had been surrounded by Walkers, with only a small knife and an empty handgun as your trusty allies. So you bolted, made your way into the forest and watched from a safe distance as the Prison became overrun with the Dead. But staying on the outskirts meant you were exposed to any type of attack, so you left the area entirely in hopes that you would bump into another person.

And now, here you were, surrounded by sleazy, evil men and their twisted intentions, waiting for your fate to be sealed.

“Don’t touch her, she’s mine, I said she’s claimed,” a familiar voice gruffly stated, emerging from the tree line behind you. You didn’t dare turn around, fear having frozen you to the spot, preventing you from acting upon your curiosity. The footsteps neared closer until a hand gripped your shoulder. You whimpered, tensing under the touch, a single tear breaking drew down your cheek.

“You heard Daryl, boys. She’s claimed. Let’s keep moving.”

Your breathing quickened, eyes opening slowly. Daryl? Did that man say Daryl?

The grip on your shoulder soon became gentle, a soothing touch that you relaxed into. You willed yourself to raise your head, chest tightening anxiously as you watched the herd of men begin to walk away. Slowly, you looked up and over your shoulder, your entire body melting in relief when you realised that you were saved.

“Oh… oh, Daryl!” You wailed loudly, throwing yourself at him. He wrapped his arms around your body, cradling you against his chest; you could feel his heart hammering, fast, aggressive pounds inside his chest. You buried your face into his neck, tears streaming down your cheeks as uncontrolled sobs broke free.

The panic, the fear that consumed you became too overwhelming to deal with, leaving you a blubbering mess as all trauma rose to the surface. You’d been alone for so long since the Prison fell, so you were starting to believe that you were the only survivor who had made it out alive. You wanted to be angry at yourself to believing that—and you knew now that if Daryl was alive, there was hope that Rick, Carl, Judith, Michonne, and everyone else had made it out too.

“It’s alright, kid, I’ve got ya,” Daryl muttered. He supported your weight and helped you to your feet, urging you to start walking. You followed his lead and clung onto his arm, too frightened to let go. “We gotta keep movin’, we’re headin’ towards Terminus, they’re huntin’ down a guy that killed one of their own.”

His eyes skimmed over your form, briefly checking for injuries. Satisfied that you weren’t wounded badly, he continued to walk with you after the group. “I won’t let ‘em hurt ya… I got you.”

The aftermath left you numb.

You stared aimlessly ahead as Daryl lay beaten on the floor. His breathing was laboured, uneven; his eyes shut, limbs resting beside him. Cuts, bruises and scratches littered his visible skin, and trickles of blood started to pool underneath him.

You desperately wanted to go to him, to hold him close and protect him from Negan. But you couldn’t. What would happen if you tried? Would that just result in a bigger punishment again? Would Negan go as far as killing Daryl to prove a point? You wanted to believe he was just trying to scare you into behaving, but you couldn’t risk Daryl’s life like that.

Not again.

Negan turned to you, his chest puffed outwards. For a moment he looked upset, but his expression quickly turned into a wicked grin. He approached you and placed a hand on your shoulder, urging you to look at him. You could only stare with a particular malice and hatred, despising what he was doing in a world already so cruel.

“Have you learned your lesson yet?” He asked coldly.

You wanted to snap at him. Yell at him. Punch him, kick him, do something to hurt him.

But you couldn’t. You fought back your disgust for Negan and stiffly nodded your head, swallowing back your pride before letting out a small, meek, “yes.”

#angst #fan fiction #negan smith #the walking dead negan #carl grimes #daryl dixon #the walking dead #Rick grimes #reader insert #survival #thriller #blood and gore #slow burn #violence #abuse #verbal abuse

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theolympusfiles · 4 years ago

Text

rereading the PJO and HoO - part one: the lightning thief

before i start, all italicized parts are from the lightning thief by rick riordan. they're not my words and these are not my characters. my thoughts are the only thing that are mine :)

• "mom, you're coming too." her face was pale, her eyes as sad as when she looked at the ocean. "no!" i shouted, you are coming with me. help me carry grover". - the first(ish) appearance of percy's fatal flaw! i love the early establisment, especially because it helps foreshadow to the sea of monsters when fatal flaws are formally introduced.

• "that's -" "pasiphae's son," my mother said. "i wish i'd known how badly they wanted to kill you." - sally is underappreciated. she's smart as hell and clearly took the time to research demigods. yes, she was a little bit selfish with keeping percy out of the loop and not sending him to camp. but can you blame her? she lost all of her family and if she sent percy to CHB at an early age, that most nearly means she won't see him often (he'll attract monsters because he's aware of his status as a demigod and will most likely be at camp full-time). but sally ensured that she knew enough about the demigod world to protect percy because she knew that her selfishness would come with consequences. best mom.

• i was crying, calling for my mother, but i held on to grover - i wasn't going to let him go. - percy's first loss as a demigod and i am broken. honestly, so sad to think of, especially knowing all the losses he'll face in the future books. this line is also his fatal flaw showing once again (refer to first bulletpoint)

• "it (america) is the great power of the west. and so olympus is here. and we are here." - if olympus follows the west, where would the next location be? obviously, america is still a big powerhouse in terms of western civilization but that's not going to last. my bet is south korea but who knows? would love a fanfic on this tbh

• "the truth is, i can't be dead. you see, eons ago the gods granted my wish. i could continue the work i loved. i could be a teacher of heroes as long as humanity needed me. i gained so much from that wish... and i gave up so much. but i'm still here, so i can only assume i'm still needed." - how will it be decided that he's not needed? honestly, can't imagine CHB without him but chiron also deserves retirement

• i started to understand luke's bitterness and how he seemed to resent his father, hermes so okay, maybe gods had important things to do. but couldn't they call once in a while, or thunder or something? - percy has always showed some hesitance when accepting the demigod world, so i wasn't really surprised to see doubts like this pop up, especially with luke's influence. i'd think most demigods feel this way, luke and percy are just the ones who exhibit it the most in the series. i'm really interested in the parallels between the two and i'm looking forward to reading more and examining them

• "during the winter solstice, at the last council of the gods, zeus and poseidon had an argument. the usual nonsense: 'mother rhea always liked you best', 'air disasters are more spectacular than sea disasters', etc. - despite the fact that the gods are all-powerful beings, i appreciate the petty sibling spats that are mentioned briefly

• "so let me get this straight," i said. "i'm supposed to go to the underworld and confront the world of the dead." "check," chiron said. "find the most powerful weapon in the universe." "check." "and get it back to olympus before the summer solstice in ten days." "that's about right." i looked at grover, who gulped down the ace of heaers. "did i mention that maine is very nice this time of year?" he asked weakly. - this would be perfect for those 30 second trailers

• "gee," i said feigning surprise. "who else would be stupid enough to volunteer for a q uest like this?" the air shimmered behind chiron. annabeth became visible, stuffing her yankees cap into her back pocket. - the way he knows her pretty well already, i-

• the truth was, i didn't care about retrieving zeus' lightning bolt, or saving the world, or even helping my father out of trouble. - early on, we see from the get go that percy has a dislike for the gods. it's small mentions like this that really gets me thinking. he never really showed any dislike of the gods when he first arrived at camp (understandable) but he was hopeful for his father. it wasn't until luke planted the seed into his head that these thoughts came to light. i love this little detail, especially as we know that towards the end, luke does seem to think he can turn percy against the gods. his plan backfired a little bit on him in the end but like i said before, the parallels between luke and percy are so glaring. riordan definitely thought it out extensively

• do not be a pawn of the olympians, my dear. you would be better off as a statue - this is said to percy by medusa and again, feeds into his dislike of the gods. i wonder if monsters have some opinion on this. most would probably hate the gods but i wonder what their stance is on demigods. we know that they work with them (see kronos' army). the real enemy for monsters are the gods, the demigods killing them are just pawns to the gods so maybe that's how some monsters see them

• "so, what's your status?" luke asked me. "chiron will be sorry he missed you." i told him pretty much everything, including my dreams. it felt so good to see him, to feel like i was back at camp even for a few minutes, that i didn't even realize how long i had talked to him until the beeper went off on the spray machine. - there's no doubt that percy really considered luke a friend. he wasn't hesitant to tell luke about his dreams, something that he didn't share with annabeth or grover until later on the book. luke was a sort of mentor to percy and it was conveyed pretty well through their interactions, which makes his betrayal even more heartbreaking

• "you think you'll ever try living with your dad again?" she wouldn't meet my eyes. "please. i'm not into self-inflicted pain." - my heart breaks for annabeth and her relationship with her father. i've read most of the riordanverse books and the growth in annabeth's relationship with her family is definitely something i'm looking forward to watch grow as i make my way through the books again

• i looked over at the desk and saw a girl sitting there, also wearing a straitjacket - so i never paid the dreams any mind but now that i think about it, they're really good for analysis. for example, the straitjacket could mean something like the gods are keeping them restrained. maybe i'm overthinking it or have been analyzing text too much in AP english but i think that the dreams are worth some deeper thinking

• i pretended not to see annabeth wipe a tear from her cheek as she listened to the mournful keening of cerberus in the distance, longing for his new friend - i need to see annabeth play with cerberus again D:

• i turned and faced my mother. i desperately wanted to sacrifice myself and the last pearl on her, but i knew what she would say. she would never allow it. i had to get the bolt back to olympus and tell zeus the truth. i had to stop the war. - percy's growth as a character really shines through here. the lightning thief is a pretty short book and the journey they took was less than 2 weeks but despite that percy's grown immensely as a character. his goal was always to save his mother but in the end, he sacrificed her because he knew it was his duty to save olympus and i respect that

• "you have made an enemy, godling," he told me. "you have sealed your fate. every time you raise your blade in battle, everytime you hope for success, you will feel my curse. beware, perseus jackson. beware." - ares cursed percy to be unsuccesful in battle but does his curse ever take effect? i don't recall any mention of this curse later on the series. obviously, percy is the main character and a really good swordfighter but the curse might have affected some battles right? but then again riordan has a lot of plotholes so i wouldn't put too much thought in it

• i knew dionysus must've filled it out, because he stubbornly insisted on getting my name wrong. - i've always accepted the fact that dionysus called the demigods by their wrong name for humor. but what if it's deeper? what if it's a way to put some space between him and the demigods, just as an extra precaution so he won't get attached. or it could be a ploy to showcase that he's more powerful than them and that they are beneath him, which is why he doesn't need to know their name. i like the former headcanon more though :P

• i opened my eyes. i was propped up in bed in the sickroom of the big house, my right hand bandaged like a club. argus stood guard in the corner. annabeth sat next to me, holding my nectar glass and dabbing a washcloth on my forehead. "here we are again," i said. - the parallel

well, that's everything i had notes on. overall, i liked rereading it. i really do miss this series and i'm finding my love for it be rekindled by rereading. i miss the humor of the early books (i could literally make a whole post of underrated lines). the last time i read the series in its whole was when i was 7 and now that i'm 16, i have more thoughts and can analyze the story better. also loved seeing baby percabeth as they're my OTP. i'm excited to continue with the series. to the sea of monsters!

#Percy Jackson and the Olympians #PJO #Pjato/hoo #reading #rereading #books #Greek Mythology #percy jackson #annabeth chase #luke castellan #Grover underwood #analysis #the lightning thief #pjo series

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enigma-im · 4 years ago

Text

Twelfth day of Christmas...

Trope: Mutual pining Relationship: Robot x Human Word count: 6,589

The bell chimes from the door. Without missing a beat I continue welding the derby car in front of me. It doesn't take a genius to realize who is here at such a ridiculous hour. Tenna just has to wait till I'm finished fixing up Bruce's dumpster car. Sparks fly off the dented pieces of metal, splashing around in wonderous fireworks. If the sight wasn't a norm I'd almost consider its beauty. As I lower the flame to judge my work I see Tenna sitting on the couch across from me. I try not to look at him, knowing the second he has my attention I'm done for. I can kiss getting this done before tomorrow morning goodbye.

I try my damndest to ignore him, just finishing off the line before I can bother thinking about him. It's a hard task as I already feel anxious with him watching me. His stare picks at me till I'm honestly fighting the urge to look up. It's like he has some gravity to him that I'm drawn to.

"Damn it," I sigh. I turn off the torch and slam it on the hood of the Junker. I snap my helmet covered eye to him, seeing that infuriating smirk on his skull-like face. He has to know what that does to me. Tenna is an annoying little tick that has no business getting under my skin the way he does. His constant presence and never-ending teasing will be my undoing one day.

But damn if I don't love him for it.

Slamming my helmet up I glare at him," Have any idea what time it is?"

"10:34pm exactly," he spreads his arms wide on the couch headrest," is that a problem?"

Scoffing at his know-it-all look I toss the helmet on top of the car with the welding torch. I walk over to my workbench, picking up a used rag to wipe my face. Glancing over at Tenna I catch him staring, his legs spreading wide in an 'I'm powerful' pose. I roll my eyes as my heart flutters. How dare he.

"What do you need this time, Tenna," I ask, cutting to the chase.

"Haven't seen you in nearly a week and all you've got to say is 'you know what time it is' and 'what do you need this time'," he mocks my voice," can't I just come to see my favorite mechanic?"

I look deadpan to him," I've known you for nearly two years, not once have you just come to visit me. So I'll ask one more time, what do you need?"

He drops the act quickly, his shoulders sagging as he leans forward," Ricky Bower accidentally knocked me on my ass last week, and ever since I've been losing feeling to my hands." he raises his palms upwards, clenching his hand into fists. "It's strange and I'd greatly appreciate your help," he attempts to be kind as he asks. Knowing I can't ever say no to this idiot I motion him over to the bench.

Tenna hops up with a pep in his step. I watch him snatch the roller chair from beside the car, bringing it over before plopping down. Holding my hands out he sets his gently over them. I take the moment to feel his lightly warmed metal and leathery palms. His body has fascinated me for as long as I've known him. Having great knowledge in most things that deal with metal and wires I have never really understood how someone can make life like him. He is amazing.

Shaking out of my exploration I trace my fingers over his palm, looking up to him. "Feel that," I ask.

"Nope," he pops the P. I pinch at his fingers, digging my nail into the springy synthetic.

"That?"

"Why all the testing? I told you I can't feel a thing," he snaps. I grind my teeth at his tone, tempted to drop the task. I don't need him charging in here and demanding a fix. Scoffing I give into my petty ire and push his hands away.

"Alright, Mr. Know-it-all, fix your damn self," I hop out of my chair, ready to abscond to my office to pout like a lovesick teen. Before I can make it a step he snatches my wrist, tugging me back.

"Fine, fine," he sighs," I'm sorry. Will you please ignore my pitiful outbursts, I'm just a tad frustrated not being able to feel anything." his gaze drops to where he Is holding me, rubbing his thumb across my skin. He huffs.

I snatch my hand out of his," Fine, but one more and I'm kicking ya out."

"Wouldn't expect anything less," he smirks.

I grab his hand again, trailing my hands to his forearm where I open a panel. The underside of his arm pops off easily. Having replaced this very piece long before it no longer stays connected. I set it off to the side. I expertly look over his wires and parts. It all looks to be working fine, I dig my fingers in to investigate deeper.

"So what did Ricky do again," I ask, filling the silence as I work. I feel him shrug as his arm jostles in my hands.

"That dumb son of a bitch was wobbling on his way out the bar. Being the kind soul I am-" I roll my eyes,"-I walked him home. As he nearly caves his head in on the street I grab him, trading places with him as the dumb son of a bitch to cave his head in on the street." I snort at the image. The all graceful Tenna falling headfirst into the pavement like a drunkard. The scene replays in my mind as I snap my eyes up to him.

"So it's your head, not your arm," I bark as I grab the panel and click it back to place. Standing, I snatch his head and tug it towards me. He hovers close to my bosom but I'm far too distracted with tearing off the cranium plating to care.

"Very grabby today," he chuckles. I toss the panel to the bench and dig through the countless wires to reach where the small dent on the back of his head is. The protective layer that sits on the back of his head is pressing too hard on his processor. The wires are detached and loose. I scoff, pleased but annoyed at finding the issue. What an idiot for going a week without coming in.

I try to take a step away from him to grab my wire welding set but I'm held in place. Confused, I look to the hands holding my hips. Tenna looks up, quickly letting go and sliding back with the chair.

"Sorry," he coughs," you kept bumping me and I-uhh- yep." I stare for a moment, squinting at his strange behavior before I run off to my office.

I fix up his head, pleased as can be as I shut the panel back. Plopping down onto my chair I hold my palms out again. I gesture him forward. He drops his hand unceremoniously onto mine.

"Have you always been this warm," he asks, pressing his palm against mine.

"Does it feel different," I ask worried I screwed something up. I'm no genius in the ways of advanced robotics. He doesn't answer, trailing his hands over my wrist. Growing curious he abandons my hands and cups my cheeks. His fingers pet over my nose and under my eye. Smoothing down my eyebrows as I tense.

"What are you doing," I slowly recoil from his touch though it feels so welcoming. His thumbs grace the corners of my eyes as he smiles sweetly to himself.

"I can feel the crow's feet, ya fixed me again, doc," he jokes. I slap his hands away, insulted at the insinuation that I have crow's feet. He laughs, letting me walk away in a huff.

Tenna

I left her place later than I intended, leaving her asleep on the couch. Heading out of her scrap yard I make my way down the road towards my home. Passing many closing bars and dark alleys. I manage to get out of the dumpster fire that is downtown to get to my humble abode out of the city. It's not a far walk, a decent enough journey to a sweet little place in a sweet little neighborhood.

I trot up the steps, the door unlocking at my proximity. Stepping into the living room I find Ricky asleep on the couch similar to Valerie. Quietly I make my way to my room, flipping the light on to look at the large messy room. I step over the clutter of junk, passing by my vanity. Stopping for a moment I admire the dent on the back of my head, wincing at it.

"Didn't have to hit so hard," I grunt.

Quickly completing my nighttime rituals I plug myself in and power down for the night.

The next morning I sit in the kitchen, reading on my tablet as Ricky steps in. He's a half-dressed, sloppy man, sorting through the fridge.

"How did last night go," he asks. I sigh, dropping the tablet to the table.

"Pretty good actually. She fixed me up quickly, got to even hold her for that bit, and we talked afterward. You know Gilbert stiffed her the forty he owed her for fixing up his Camry," I answer. He grunts in answer, chugging milk like the slob he is. I grimace at the white trickle going down his neck. With a satisfied gasp, he wipes his face.

"Did you actually get anywhere this time or did you play annoying best friend again," he asks.

"No," I cross my arms," I didn't plan to do anything anyways."

Ricky snorts," wimp."

"Hey," I bark," I'm not a wimp. I'm just a good guy trying not to ruin a good thing going for me."

"yea," he shrugs," a wimp."

I pout, grumbling under my breath as I try to think of something clever to say. Ricky just snorts again, heading towards the cupboards for a snack.

"Just go for it, you beating around the bush just leaves time for her to find someone better. She puts up with your stupid injuries that you cause just as an excuse to see her. Nut up and make a move," he suggests. I can't help but chuckle at the pun. It trails off as I grovel in self-pity some more.

"It's not that easy, Rick," I sneer," she can barely stand me, and asking for more than what we have would be me just ruining something good. If all I can get is once a week with her then I'll take it. She doesn't need some idiot pulling her back anyway."

Ricky glares at me but shakes it off as the argument goes in circles. I adore Valerie, ever since she first fixed me up. She's so snarky and kind, I couldn't help but adore her. But, I'm nothing special and I know she finds me tolerable at best. I sigh, slacking in the chair.

Valerie

Bruce stops by sometime this week to grab his Junker car for the derby this weekend. With the bit of money he gives me I have enough to splurge on some necessities for the shop. I spend my day off cleaning up and ordering pieces online. Though I'm one for always working I enjoy getting to calm it all down every Tuesday. No customers to argue with, pieces of shit cars to try to fix up. Just alone with some loud music.

I sweep the garage floor, startled at the bot standing by the front door. Jumping nearly out of my skin I pause the music and catch my breath. Tenna laughs at me as I hold my hand to my chest.

"If I wasn't mistaken I think I scared ya," he teases.

"Yea," I shout," not shit." Tenna gives me a moment to ease my racing heart before continuing his teasing.

"You humans are just so jumpy. Scared of your own shadow," he snickers.

I scoff, setting the broom aside," cause you're any better? I remember vividly you whimpering over me replacing the pistons on your back."

"Hey," he barks, pointing to me," being in pain and getting scared are two different things and I wasn't whimpering. If I was, it was because you don't have a gentle bone in your body."

I wave him off," excuses, excuses. What do you want anyway?"

Shoving his hands in his pockets he walks further into the shop," was just passing by and figured you could be of help in fixing the dent on the back of my head. You see, the ladies don't find the battle wound charming."

I snort," battle wound? Falling onto concrete sounds extremely heroic."

"Saving poor old men from cracking their skull on the sidewalk sounds pretty damn heroic," he defends himself. I smile, waving him over to the workbench.

"I'd recommend stopping with the 'heroics' though. You're in here nearly every week with some 'battle scars'," I scold halfheartedly. He sits down at the bench as I circle him to check out the dented metal on his head. Grabbing him and tilting him forward I see what I can do.

"Not my fault I'm such a good person," he grumbles. I snort, shaking my head.

I try just removing the dent the old fashion way, pulling it back into place. With that not working I remove the piece and try to hammer it back. That just makes it look worse. As all else fails I set out to make a new piece. I sort through some scrap I have mashed together in a milk crate. Jabbing myself on different bits of loose metal I find a sheet perfect enough to mold.

All the while I'm working I can feel Tenna's gaze on me. It makes me fumble with my work as I feel pressured by his attention. I want to seem smart and capable around him but he has a tendency to leave me flustered. I bite my cheek and try to think of something else while I cut the sheet of metal.

With the piece made I head back over, ready to try and perfect it. I stand behind him, tilting his head back down.

"Anything new lately," I ask him to fill the silence. He shrugs.

"I've been trying this new drink for bots, it's supposed to keep the inners all clean and oiled," he answers.

"Yea, how's it taste," I ask, knowing how picky he can be.

"Like shit. It's like they make us taste everything but won't put the effort into making things we can eat good," he huffs," it's almost insulting." I hum in answer. I lose track of the conversation for a bit as I walk off to smooth the edges so it can click into place.

"So Christmas is next week," I shout from across the shop.

"Yea, and?"

"What do you me 'yea, and', are you not doing anything," I ask.

He shrugs," what is there to do? Ricky is heading off to his parents then and I'm left alone till he comes back."

I nod in understanding. Ricky is Tenna's only friend. Though I have no room to talk, Tenna is my only friend. I fiddle with the piece in my hand as I ponder asking him to spend his holiday here. Surely that's a stupid question, why would he want to spend his day with me?

"Besides, it's a family holiday. As you know I lack in that department," he tries to joke. I swallow a comforting comment.

Walking around him again I set the piece, admiring the handiwork. I turn to the workbench for some spray paint to keep the color scheme. Though I've replaced most of his parts with scarp I do try to keep it presentable. I shake the can as I fight back the urge to invite him. It's a waste invitation, he wouldn't want to. I sigh.

"Tenna," I start, he hums," do you want to spend Christmas here with me?"

He straightens at the question, asking defensively," Why?"

"What do you mean why," I bite back.

"What do you mean 'what do you mean'? Why are you inviting me to your human celebration," he barks. I scoff, spraying the back of his head quickly.

"You're going to be alone and I thought it would be a nice thing for me to do," I answer.

"Oh, how giving of you. Don't put yourself out just for me," he folds his arms. I toss the can onto the desk, circling to his front.

"What is your problem, I'm just being nice," I sneer.

He glares up at me," I don't want the charity. I imagine you have better people to spend this time with."

"Oh yea, cause I'm drowning in friends right now. Got a family halfway across the country and no money to get to them. I'm spending this time of year alone and you of all people should know that," I shake my head, holding up my hand before he can speak," know what, never mind. Didn't know having to spend Christmas with me would be such a hassle."

His shoulders drop as he begins to stand," I didn't mean it like that, Val-"

I stop him," No, it's my fault. Should have known better. It's my bad." I turn on my heels and make my way to my office, Tenna trailing after me.

"Valerie, I didn't mean it that way. I was-," I interrupt him again.

"Fucking aye, Tenna, I get it," I snap," I fixed your stupid head, you can leave now."

Tenna tries to get in another word before I slam the door in his face. I stomp to the desk, collapsing in my chair as Tenna tries to knock on the door. His words are muffled but constant. I ignore him either way, stewing in my hurt feelings like a petulant child. Damn robots.

Tenna

I reluctantly leave her place, feeling like utter shit as I do. I hardly meant for it to come out like that but I couldn't help but get defensive. She wanted to spend her special holiday with me? Surely that had to be pity. I never want her pity, that alone stings more than anything.

I walk home, feeling the cold air more than before. Heading into my home I go straight for my room to stew in my ignorance for a little longer. Falling onto my bed I groan as I recall the conversation. How can I be such a fool? Rolling onto my side I rub at the new plate sitting on the back of my head. She always fixes me right up. Not once has she said no. I smile to myself before the image of the door slamming in my face came back. I groan again.

A while later I come out of my room to speak with Ricky, finishing with my moping for the time being. I find the slobby man lounged on the couch watching tv. Falling into the chair across from him I let out an exaggerated sigh. Ricky pretends to not notice so I do it again. With a roll of his eyes, he mutes the tv, turning to me with a fake smile.

"Hello, how may I help you," he says with great theatrics. I rest my cheek on my palm.

"Valerie's mad at me," I answer. Ricky tosses the remote down the couch, clenching his jaw.

"Yea? What did you do," he asks. I don't bother pretending I did no wrong.

"She asked to if I wanted to spend Christmas with her and I got all in my emotions about it," I grumble. Ricky scoffs, looking at me bemused.

"Your girl asks you to spend a holiday with her and you got pissy," he sits up, throwing his feet onto the floor," are you dense? Your girl asks you to spend time with her outside this stupid arrangement you two have and you don't immediately say yes and jump for joy?"

Well, when you say it like that I feel like more of an asshole. I lean forward and groan into my hands. I'm truly a fool.

"I couldn't help it. It felt like she was doing it because she felt bad and I couldn't handle her feeling like she had to do that," I clarify. Ricky barks out a humorless laugh, reaching over for a pillow and tossing it at me.

"You fucking idiot," he barks," what does it matter if she felt bad for you? If a girl wants you to spend time with her then the answer should always be yes!"

"I'm aware of that now," I shove the pillow aside," you know I suffer from lack of filter from brain to mouth."

He snickers," as do all men."

"so what should I do?"

Ricky stands from the couch," go back and apologies then kiss her like the lovesick fool you are."

"Be serious, please," I fall back against the chair. Ricky walks past, heading to the kitchen.

"I am. You keep beating around the bush and you need to be direct. Tell her how you feel- or better yet, show her how you feel- and then you two can get down to fucking like rabbits in her garage," he answers, shouting as he rounds into the kitchen. I stumble on my retort as I think about having my way with her in her shop. Her sweaty body against mine as I listen to her sweet cries of pleasure. I nearly short circuit at the thought, drooling if I could.

Ricky comes back in, hitting me on the head," Stop that, I don't wanna see if a robot can get a boner."

I shoo his hand away," shut up. That's a stupid plan."

He falls to the couch with his bowl of mixed snacks," compare to your year-long plan of injuring yourself I'd say it's fucking genius." I chuff, looking towards to tv in thought. They aren't stupid plans, they've worked every time. Even when she's been mad at me I've managed to get back in there to apologize with a well-placed missing wire. I snap my head to Ricky.

"There's an idea," I smirk," she has never said no so far." Ricky looks from the tv back to me, gawking before sneering.

"No," he points at me," don't chase that thought. For the love of God, just talk to her. You are making this harder than it has to be."

I rest my elbow on my knees," no, no. it will work. Just need your help trying to break something easily fixable and-"

"NO," he jumps up, slamming his bowl on the table," I'm not going to keep helping you hurt yourself just so you can go see her. I'm fucking done with this childish game. You need to get your shit together and talk to her like a damn adult."

I stare at him for a moment, caving quickly," but Ricky, just be a bro one more time. I promise I'll try to make some headway but for right now I just need to get her to talk with me and sh-"

"Tenna," he shouts," I can't keep doing this! I'm fucking done." he storms out the room. I shout after him, trying to plead before he slams his door. Huffing I fall back into the chair, looking to the space in thought. Well, that didn't work.

Valerie

I stew for the week, growing angrier as Christmas nears. The one time I try to reach out to him as more than his mechanic he shuts me down. How could I even hope for a second that he would see me more than that? Under the feeling of rage I have the weak sensation of disappointment and pain.

Wanting an actual friendship wasn't asking for much, right? It's not like I confessed my feeling, laying myself bare for him to judge and reject. It was a simple invitation for us both not to spend this time of year alone. I scoff, slamming my tools round harder than needed.

"Don't fucking need him anyway," I grumble," far too busy to spend Christmas with him." it's a lie but it does make me feel better. I can use the free time sorting through that horrendous filing cabinet. Yea, that's a good way to spend my day off.

I power through the week working on odd jobs, secretly holding out for Tenna to walk through the door. He never does though, staying away the whole week while I continue to stew. I don't miss him, no, far from it. It's just quiet around here, that's all. I sigh at the lie.

Christmas eve leaves me cold and alone. I try to work, keeping with the minor distractions till I'm just left numb. Some self-pampering is needed. I make myself a hot chocolate, sitting on my couch, and playing Christmas music throughout the shop. I mumble along to the overly repeated songs as I sip my drink, chewing on some marshmallows.

"Merry Christmas to me," I groan.

Nearly asleep I jolt awake at a pounding at my door. The cold leftover bit of cocoa spills on my blanket as my muddled brain tries to sort out what's happening. The pounding sounds again from the front entrance, followed by some shouting. Scared, I grab a tall wrench off the workbench as I head to the door. The second the entrance is inches open does the person on the other side barge in.

A sloppy-looking man charges in, carrying a tarp behind him. I scowl at the guy, barely noticing the heap of metal strewn across the blue tarp.

"Excuse me, what are you doing," I snap. The man lets go of the tarp with a heavy grunt.

"Help him," he glares down at the heap on the tarp. I finally take a moment to look, gasping at the sight.

"Tenna," I drop to my knees, grabbing at him. He is laid wrecked on the ground, not moving. The lights in his eyes are dim but still there. It's a minimal relief but the black scorch marks up his arms aren't.

"What happened, who are you, why is he-," I try to ask.

"He fucking shocked himself with a socket, and I'm Ricky. Now fix him so I can kick his ass when he's alright," the man growls. I nearly recoil at his volume but I can't look away from Tenna. Focusing, I grab at his arms, tearing off the panel to see the damage done. There are plenty of popped fuses, the wires leaving black marks where they meet. I reach in to find the most damage, throwing my hand back as the metal burns my fingers. I press my hand to his chest, wincing at the heat.

"He's overheating," I say as I jump up. I run over to my office, grabbing plyers and a screwdriver.

"Yea, what does that mean," Ricky asks, panicked. I shoo him aside, falling to my knees besides Tenna. Reaching for his torso again I slide his shirt up to his chest and begin to pry the plate off. Using the screwdriver I manage it easily. Looking at his bare inners I use the plyer to dig in the tiny hole near his artificial heart. I press the button deep down in there, turning him off. The light dims from his eyes as his body shuts down. The barely-there glow of his pupils is a faint relief.

"What are you doing," Ricky shouts," why did you turn him off, is he dead?"

I scoff," he isn't dead, or he better not be. I shut off most of his main functions so he can cool off while I fix the wires that he popped. He is technically still on but it's minor functions, mostly."

"Mostly," Ricky barks," can you fix him?"

"Of course I can fix him," I answer with false confidence. I think I can fix him. I'm sure as hell going to try because if this idiot dies on me I'm going to turn his body into a coffee machine. No, he won't get out of this that easy.

"yea, ok," Ricky answers, shaking a bit. Before I can start on Tenna I turn to Ricky.

"It's going to be ok, I got this. Why don't you grab my tools off the bench while you tell me what happened," I ask calmly. He nods, stumbling over to the bench while I pry off the plating on both arms. Ricky passes me the set, sitting down at Tenna's feet. I wait for him to start.

"I found him in his room after I heard a loud pop. I didn't think it came from him but when I saw him laid out jerking around on the floor I couldn't think. Gods," he rubs his face," I could kill him for putting me through that."

I rip the worn wires out, stripping them and re-welding them to his body," what did he do?"

Ricky scoffs, turning away," fucking shocking himself with the outlet. I swear, he is like a child sometimes." I scrunch my face up confused.

"Why would he do that," I ask.

"Because of you," he answers easily. I snap my attention to him, defensive and confused.

"Because of me?"

Ricky looks at me, fighting with himself before he reluctantly answers," this idiot has been making up every excuse to see you."

"So he shocked himself to see me," I ask, not really getting it.

"Shocked, maimed, dented, sabotaged. You name it, he had done it just so he had a reason to see you," he shrugs. I finish with one arm, leaving the plates off to let it cool. I start on the other side.

"Why would he do that," I wince as I burn my finger again. I feel Ricky's heavy gaze on me. Turning to him he sighs.

"Because he is in love with you and only idiots in love do stupid shit like this," he gestures to Tenna. I bark out a laugh, startling Ricky.

"No, that's not it. Why did he really do this," I shake my head amused. This hunk of junk couldn't be in love with me. That's funny in itself to assume such.

"He's in love with you. Has been since he met you," he answers. I scoff.

"I doubt that very much. He has been nothing but an ass, only coming to visit when he needs something. I consider him a good friend but I know he only sees me as his mechanic," I try to smile through the bitterness. Ricky laughs, throwing his head back as he busts a gut.

"Are you kidding me," he snickers," you two are exactly the same! Two idiots who just don't get the other."

I sneer, finishing up the wires before grabbing my soldering kit. Surely Ricky is mistaken, Tenna isn't in love with me.

"So, Valerie, are you in love with him," he asks with a big grin on his face. I fluster at the question, making him laugh again. "I fucking knew it. To think, I never met you and could tell you were as enamored with him as he is with you. If only he took my advice then you two would be spending your Christmas humping like lovesick teens," he chortles. I fluster more, wanting to roll up into a ball.

I solder the last wire, grumbling under my breath at everything. How can he go and do something like this? And just to get my attention? If what Ricky said is true then Tenna is more of an idiot than I thought. He never gave any hint that he liked me, let alone loved me. I spent the whole year feeling like shit because I adored this idiot, thinking he couldn't even give me a second glance. When he wakes up he is going to have an earful.

As I put away my tools I grab the plyers again. Stretching over his chest I press the thin tip into the hole, pressing the button. I wait for the telltale sign of his rebooting but there is nothing. I press it again, holding it before releasing. Nothing. Before I can push it again there is a loud drawn out beep.

"What's happening," Ricky jumps to attention. I don't answer, having the same question myself. Leaning over his body I stare into his eyes, the dim light extinguishing completely. My heart plummets, a cold chill running up my spine.

I jump up, bolting across the shop for my trolley. Ricky stands, asking too many flustered questions as he watches me wheel the trolley over. I grab the jump-started off the middle shelf, slamming it a tad too hard on the floor. Reaching for the two clamps I attached them to Tenna's chest. I look at the machine, ready to turn the knob. Before I can start, I check Ricky, making sure he isn't in danger of being shocked as well.

I turn the knob, a charge running through Tenna. I hold it for a few seconds. Leaning over Tenna I look for his lights, seeing none I try again. I mumble under my breath pleas and prayers. Checking again for a light I truly panic.

"No, no, no," I readjust the clamps on his body," you do not get to do this to me, you damn idiot!" I twist the knob again, asking any higher power for this hunk of junk to start.

"What's going on, is it working," Ricky asks unhelpfully. I ignore him, sitting in my own fear. I twist the knob, antsy as I wait.

It's a harsh few seconds of nothing. My heart feels like it's squeezing, threatening to pop with such force. A litter of please escape my lips as my eyes sting. He can't do this to me, he fucking can't.

"You son of a bitch," I whimper in anger," I do not deserve to find out you love me too and then have you die on me. You damn piece of shit, reboot!"

I twist the knob again, perhaps turning it a tad too hard. His body gives a sudden jolt, convulsing for a moment before he sits upright.

"Motherfucker," he shouts, clenching at his open chest. He tears off the clamps, curling into himself as he shudders. I can't describe the utter joy I feel at hearing him speak. Without much thought I grab him, pulling him into a hug. He tilts into my hold, still shaking and clenching his chest.

I grab his face, turning to me," If you ever scare me like that again I will turn you into a metal scrap cube." before he can answer I smash my lips again his less soft ones. He grunts in surprise, nearly recoiling. I hold him firm, annoyed and overjoyed all at once. Tenna melts into the actions, the hands curled against his chest grabbing at my shirt to tug me closer.

"Aw, that’s sweet," Ricky tease, smacking Tenna on the back of the head," glad you're alright but if you do that shit again I'm turning your scrap cube into a toilet." Tenna parts from me, smiling up at his friend.

"Wouldn't expect anything less," Tenna chuckles.

Ricky nods, rubbing snot on his sleeve," see you at home."

"You're leaving," I ask, watching him head to the door.

"Yea, you two have a lot to talk about. I'll get my words in later when he isn't high off you," he waves dismissively. As Ricky shuts the door behind himself Tenna and I are left in tense silence.

I look to Tenna, happy to see the bright glow in his eyes. He was nearly lost to me, left to be just a piece of fine metal on my floor. I smile at him, he returns the gesture. I then punch him in the chest, wincing at the metal. He winces, curling into himself again.

"Ow, let's not punch the injured man," he snaps. I growl at him.

"Wouldn't be injured if you weren't such an idiot," I snap," Of all the moronic things I know you're capable of, this tops the list. What were you even thinking? You could have been wiped, gone forever at Tenna the robot. Left at factory reset as a blank slate. God, I could kill you right now for being so blasé about hurting yourself!"

"I did what I had to do, ok," he bites back," it's not my fault that it's the only way you would give me the time of day."

I scoff, pushing him away," only time? Excuse me but I don't think you even bother trying a different way. Not once did you stop by for a casual chat or asked me out for some dinner. Hell, I've never even been to your place. I'm not the one in the wrong here just because you're an idiot!"

Tenna groans, starting up a sentence before backing off with a shake of his head. He tries again, falling short once more. In the end, he grabs for me, tugging my reluctant self into a hug. He drops his forehead to my shoulder, holding me sweetly.

"I'm sorry," he says simply," I've been reckless and unrefined ever since I met you. It's not your fault, I'm just a fool who has no idea what he's doing."

I tug him closer, petting at his back," yea, but you are the fool I fell in love with."

He squeezes tighter, rubbing his face against me. Tugging me into his lap we take the silent moment to bask in the glow of just being alive. I'm livid with him, beyond belief am I angry, but I nearly lost him today. That alone is enough for me to just sit in his lap and hold him.

"Do you really love me," he mumbles near my ear. I pet the back of his head, pressing a kiss to him.

"Sadly," I tease. He chuckles, leaning back to look in my eyes. He slants his lips against mine, timid and slow as he does.

"Well, I'm happily in love with you too," he says against my mouth. I tug him in for the next kiss, leisurely licking his lips and cupping the back of his head. We part only for us to rest against the other.

"I'm really sorry though," he nuzzles my head," I feel like a great idiot now."

"Truly the king of idiots, actually," I joke. He smiles, nodding in agreement.

"Can you forgive me," he asks. I nod.

"My biggest flaw is I can never say no to you," I say," it will surely be my undoing."

Tenna smiles big and wide, hands falling down to my hips to tug me close. We kiss like lovesick fools we are, straying off any more words for the enjoyment of just being here. Somehow we make it to the couch where he corners me against himself and the cushion. I fall asleep to him playing with my hair. Before I can succumb to rest I mumble to him.

"Merry Christmas."

He presses a gentle kiss to my head," Merry Christmas, love."

#12 days of christmas #12 tropes for christmas #Enigma-IM #exophilia #robot boyfriend #robot x human #monster boyfriend #mutual pining

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pollylynn · 4 years ago

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Title: Ambition WC: 900 Episode: Knockdown (3 x 13)

He’s not the mystery he’s supposed to be solving. That’s for the best, it seems. He wouldn’t be good at it if the last few months are anything to go by. He has been wildly lacking in the introspection department, even for him.

He’d like to say he’s been drifting along, that the path of least resistance has simply been too attractive. But that wouldn’t stand up in the box. That wouldn’t even stand up to the tap tap tap of a patrol cop’s flashlight on a car window. He hasn’t been drifting. He has been—until very lately—clinging to his relationship with Gina, and under the least aggressive questioning by the greenest of rookies, he’d find himself required to confess that there’s an unsavory Doctor Motorcycle Boy–related motive there. She is with Josh, so he might as well . . .

But might as well is behind him. It’s step in the right direction. It’s one critical thread he’s given a firm tug, but he’s not sure how much closer he is to unraveling the mystery of what it is he’s doing.

He knows what he wants. Even with his talent for keeping secrets from himself, there’s never been much mystery there. In broad strokes, he wants magic. He wants her. But that truth, however fundamental, raises more questions than it answers. He hasn't allowed himself to think about what it means—what it really means to want her. He has drifted on that score. He has kept the simplest, most superficial meaning out of the corner of his eye and simply assumed the inevitable would happen in its own time—she’d be one of his conquests, he’d be one of hers.

He’s paid for drifting like that. He’s missed his chance once, twice, who knows how many times. He’s found himself in exile for a lack of curiosity so profound it shades into sin, apparently. And for all the pain of that, he might still be drifting even now. He wants her. His answer has not exactly evolved, and the universe seems annoyed by that. The universe seems to want to know what he intends to do about it.

So it sends a shot through the plate glass of the diner window. It takes the life of John Raglan and presents him with the horror of that instant when he thinks it’s her blood. The universe sends its messenger in the unlikely form of Martha Rodgers, who tells him it’s time to be honest with himself. It’s not in his wheelhouse. See above, re: introspection.

Is it drifting when he shows up on her shiny new doorstep with a fistful of stall-tactic flowers? He doesn’t know. He could be there to tell her it’s not about the books. He could be there to help her with the case. It could go any one of a number of ways, right up until the moment he hears himself utter the dread name of Josh. He utters the dread name not once, but twice.

It would be nice if that were pure pettiness—if he were simply being smug about who is there and who isn’t, who knows what and who doesn’t. It would almost be comforting, but he thinks it’s a kind of answer to what it means to want her. He thinks the veil is parted, if only for a moment, when he asks, not once, but twice, because he doesn’t want he by halves. He doesn’t want this to be some surrender to impulse, riddled with guilt and doomed to fail.

So invoking the name of Doctor Motorcycle Boy, twice, might be a kind of answer, and still his tongue is tied when the universe escalates and sends her—Kate herself—as a second messenger

She asks why he keeps coming back. She calls him Rick, and he sidesteps. But maybe that’s an answer, too. Maybe it’s a flash of insight that it’s not the universe who has sent her with this burning question, but instead it’s whatever’s lurking in the universe’s basement. Some dark element may know she is spiraling, and her instinct is to push the world away. The question might require an answer she’s in no way ready to hear right now. Wanting her might mean treading carefully.

But the universe seems to think that’s a cop out. The universe has other plans. It snatches up the boys they both love like family, and it’s up to him to come up with a dumb plan. She says she’s up for it. She says she’s game, and he wraps his arm around her. She wraps her arm around him, and when that doesn’t work, desperate times . . .

He kisses her. It’s such an inadequate string of syllables. He kisses her with all the sweetness and passion and longing he’s kept shut up in a part of his heart that seldom sees the light of day. He kisses her and it’s frantic and desperate and life and death. But it’s also a moment of tremendous clarity, calm, certainty..

He wants her. There’s no mystery any longer about what that might mean. He doesn’t know what he’ll do about it. He doesn’t know what he can do. She is with Josh. She is spiraling. But he can be here. He can have her back, Always. He can be careful and patient and anything else she needs. He wants her.

A/N: You know what does not lack morphousness? Castle's desire to have Beckett's Bebes. This story, however—no morphousness.

images via homeofthenutty

#Castle #Caskett #Castle: Season 3 #Castle: Knockdown #Kate Beckett #Richard Castle #Martha Rodgers #Josh Davidson #Gina Cowell #Gina Griffin #Fic #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Fan Fic #Fan Fiction #Writing #Tell Me More

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vaguely-concerned · 4 years ago

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The Mandalorian Chapter 15 reactions; *nobby nobbs voice* ‘s all gone a bit percychological, sir

- so from both chapter 6 and now this: rick famuyiwa is incredible at portraying prolonged discomfort and tension (and also at getting din’s endless love for that baby across through the stress of being separated from him. this is the very first episode with no baby in it at all, isn’t it? wow that’s a heartbreaking milestone to reach im crying)

I liked this episode SO MUCH but I had to pause it pretty often and take a breather because it all made me so viscerally uncomfortable on din’s behalf -- not just the armour and having to take the helmet off and be seen for the (almost, ilu IG-11) first time in decades, people keep touching him in this episode when he clearly doesn’t want them to but can’t stop it and it makes me want to claw my own skin off in sympathy, it’s so awful. that’s really neat film making to manage to keep that tension steady almost all the way through!!!

honestly this episode felt a little bit like psychological horror, with the cheering storm troopers and din in the wrong armour and clearly not digging it and there’s the palpable absence of baby and that ever present dread of being Perceived when you’re not ready for it; everything’s turned upside down from how it should be. and it’s playing with that discomfort both in the main character and in us, the audience, in having the familiar be made unfamiliar and also introducing these questions that shake up everything (that feeling you get of ‘but... if it’s not the helmet, and not the armour, but there’s his face, but we’ve only seen that face once before so it’s still basically new to us, is this... is this still him. is this still Dad’ (oooh I wonder if we’re... sort of getting some of the ??? the baby would be feeling about it too?) we’ve all imprinted on that t-shaped visor like little baby birds, and this was a very clever episode to break us out of that and start to really get used to the thought of him having several faces that are real simultaneously, in a way, and not just a voice. it’s all very smart and interesting and I’m sure I’ll have a lot of incoherent thoughts about this in the weeks to come lol)

- the actual reason din can’t take off the helmet is that if people were able to see his wide confused puppy eyes they would no longer find it in themselves to send him on long arduous side missions and would help him immediately just so he’d feel better, and that would rob us of like 80% of the content for this show

mayfeld in this episode: clearly a casualty of this. he literally sees one glimpse of the vulnerability there and then within five seconds goes on to materialize a few redeeming character traits after being a complete jackass for an episode and a half. (I mean. he was 100% still an imperial so I’m a bit ‘hm.’ about how easily especially cara let him off the hook, but with the way it was set up I guess it would have been quite shitty of them to just throw him back in prison so I mean I GUESS. I would be endlessly grateful someone got my awkward bff out of there alive and well too I suppose)

- I actually think din’s sense/integrity of self has gotten so much stronger and more resilient (though probably still quite fragile pls handle with care precious cargo within); if this had happened in the first season I think it might honestly just have killed him (and if it weren’t for IG-11 it probably would have lol)

- can you beLIEVE din is so bad at lying that they literally should plan for contingencies over it fjkasdlhfskajdhfsdj

- very grateful for the scene with the spear throw that’s basically there to reassure us ‘uh-huh, he absolutely knows how to use it, don’t worry about that part at least’

I want to make a whole post about that fight scene, though, it’s just so GOOD! there’s so much storytelling and characterization in it! even out of the armour din has some real hand to hand MOVES!! he clearly came out of that aching all over, he can barely get back in his seat!!!

- so what I’m mainly taking away from this is that din absolutely cuts his own hair and you know what? he does a good job considering the conditions he has to work under, I love him

I still find it so goddamn darling that he meticulously maintains that little mustache/stubble combo under there even when there’s every reason to believe no one will ever see it

I suppose we can also gather that he did not ask cobb about whatever insane feat of magic he’s come up with to avoid helmet hair, but I don’t care looking a bit frazzled and tousled is exactly right for him (he’s so put together when he’s in the armour and a MESS when he’s out of it and I l o v e it)

- boba fett is honestly so fucking hot in this I don’t know what to do with myself haha. he’s so CALM and CALCULATED and COLLECTED in his newly painted armour and he’s GOT THIS and he made that ‘I’ve got one of those faces. one of jango’s many, many, many faces’ joke and he’s so thicc now, he looks like he could easily lift me over his head with one hand and he’s just quietly steady and undramatically supportive and sdalfhsdjhfsa

- ...din does know who the clone troopers were, right. I mean of course he does. he has to. but does he though. I’m sure he does and just wasn’t thinking.

- no matter how stressful it was I’m still really grateful that in the end taking the helmet off was something din got to do himself -- it’s under some duress, but it’s still his choice and for the sake of the baby, and almost in two more manageable steps between putting on the storm trooper gear for a different helmet before taking it off altogether. it’s not something done to him by gideon, for example, that would be. so much yuckier and worse. he still has that control and agency intact, even if it’s been tested really hard, and now gideon doing that doesn’t hold the exact same nightmarish power anymore because there’s already a little space opened in din’s mind for different things it can mean, if you see what I mean. I’m not sure I see what I mean actually I just have a lot of feelings haha. so I guess thank you mayfeld for being decent about it and helping him towards that realization that he can still be himself outside these really really inflexible structures he’s set up around himself for like. stability and keeping himself upright for a really long time, and that even someone halfway decent won’t disrespect the boundaries he still has about it at any given moment. man there’s a lot in this episode isn’t there

- the sigh din gave when he saw even more pirates coming and knew he had to get back up... never has a single moment in cinema better captured how I feel about being alive. most relatable man in the world din djarin

- it was really cruel of them to make me listen to din’s dead bleak voice say ‘the child is gone’ again, it wrecks my heart every goddamn time

- again... I wish carano wasn’t Like That in real life because the cara & fennec scenes should have been everything I could ever dream. ah well fennec was still wonderful and if I just allow myself to think in-universe for a few seconds it was really touching that din would entrust cara with his entire armour, that’s some prime BrOTP energy right there

I love that we got two female characters who were just allies and working together, no competition or nothin’. listen the bar is low but it’s nice to see something actually leap gracefully over it as well lol

- this was one of those with some pretty big open plot holes (why, exactly, would a scan of a completely unknown face be helpful to get into this classified system lol), but a) I don’t care, the emotional storyline was so sound it doesn’t really matter and b) eh handwave handwave let’s say mayfeld programmed that little stick with the good shit and overrode the code saying there needed to be an identity match within the system, it’s all fine

- I know I joke a lot about this but din really is one of the most relatable characters I’ve ever had. just watching him struggle with eye contact and going pretty much nonverbal under enough stress is like. wow a bit close to home there could we, perhaps, nOT?? (honestly though these are trauma/anxiety things I really don’t see portrayed a lot, especially in protagonists, it’s so odd but healing to see it in a character I love and who’s EXTREMELY competent in many other settings)

- din repeating gideon’s speech back to him word for word (except for the crucial detail that he calls grogu ‘him’ instead of ‘it’ 😭😭😭) and saying nothing else is truly Everything. I’ve said some stuff about din’s deliberate and thoughtful relationship to language in the past and this is such an amazing example of it; he’s remembered that pitch perfect all this time, he’s kept it around in his head and mulled it over and then redeployed it to change the meaning of it completely from dehumanization to love. can you. can you even imagine. and it’s yet another example of his hilarious wonderful petty streak and I can never get enough of it fasjhdfkjalhs

- din always noticing the children first and foremost Y_______Y (the kids running by is the only thing you see him sort of acknowledge when he’s walking into the covert in season 1 too)

- please... please I just need him to be able to hold that baby against his chest all safe and sound and okay again I can’t it’s........ hh

NO SEASON END CLIFF HANGER ON THIS I AM B E G G I N G YOU

- I would be having some thoughts about how much space there actually is on slave 1 and what that might mean (do not kill boba again please don’t kill him again), but honestly there’s only ‘GET BABY’ hours in here now, I can’t speculate about anything

#star wars #the mandalorian #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian meta #this is an episode in the 'wow that was awesome but I need to go lie down in a quiet room for a while afterwards' tradition lol

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walkerwords · 5 years ago

Text

“Careful You” Part 1 of 2 - Shane x F!Reader, Daryl x F!Reader

PART II

Request from anonymous: A Shane x reader x Daryl where reader and Shane we’re together since the beginning but reader realized he’s becoming an ass and Daryl (who the reader secretly likes) says “I know you ain’t in love with him” pretty please??? Thank you!!!!

Word Count: 5063

Warning: Cursing, Violence

Song I Wrote To: “Careful You” by TV On The Radio

Note: So yes! This will be a two-part request story. I got hella carried away with this one and I didn’t wanna post the whole thing so part 1 today and part 2 tomorrow! I’m sorry if ya like Shane but hes an asshole in this at times. It jumps around a bit from the quarry to the cdc to the highway to the greene farm. The real emotional stuff is in part two so I hope yall like this. reminder: I may not fill every request, ill only pick the ones I know I can make somethin good, but still send them!

------

You began to notice a change in Shane when Rick Grimes was reunited with his family.

Before the world turned, you, Shane, Rick, and Lori were the best of friends. It was always double dates after work and the four of you planning Carl’s birthday parties. It was Rick and Lori and Shane and you, no matter what. Shane Walsh wasn’t an easy man to love, but love him, you did.

The first time you saw him it was at a bar in downtown Atlanta. Rick and Shane were out in the city for a weekend to celebrate some kind of achievement they got from the Academy. You had noticed his dark hair and dashing smile from across the room and as soon as your eyes met, you were done. Shane Walsh became your person and you never thought anything would get in between the two of you. And nothing did...until the end of the world.

You weren’t an idiot, you knew about Shane and Lori. Hell, you probably knew about his attraction to her before she did. You ignored it the best you could before the world ended, but now it was hard to ignore the fact that your boyfriend, the man you loved, was in love with another woman.

A married woman.

Then when Rick stepped out of that truck and Carl ran from Lori’s arms, the ground rocked beneath your feet. When you had hugged him once his family had let go, it was more than relief that cascaded over you, it was gratitude. With Rick back, there wouldn’t be time for Shane to gawk at his best friend’s girl, let alone sneak off into the woods with her. Hopefully, things would start to go back to normal.

However, whenever Lori was alone, Shane was still there. He would be watching her, looking out for Carl, and he’d do it right in front of Rick. Rick didn’t seem to notice and if he did, he ignored it and acted as if everything was the way it once was. It pissed you off to see him act so naive, but you figured he didn’t want to start anything. The last thing any of you needed was in-fighting within the group.

However, it didn’t take long for said in-fighting to start. Especially once Daryl Dixon came back from his hunt. You had met both of the Dixon brothers the day they arrived at the camp. Merle was an asshole and immediately began hitting on you. Shane had shut that down within a few seconds, making sure the older Dixon knew that you were his girl and to keep his paws and his mouth to himself. It was one of the only times Shane had claimed you in front of the group.

As for Daryl, you weren’t sure about where his head was at. He followed his brother closely and you figured he had been doing so his entire life. Daryl was his brother’s opposite. While he still had a mouth on him when he did happen to speak up, he didn’t purposefully inject himself into conversations or make lewd remarks at the women in the camp. He kept his head down and his crossbow up when it was warranted. He was also great at hunting and had taken the job of getting food for the group.

Carl had once told you that he thought Daryl was “cool”, but that he kind of scared him. You had laughed and assured the kid, whom you considered a nephew, not to worry. Dixon may be a bit rough around the edges, but he was harmless. Though you made sure to tell him to steer clear of Merle and Carl didn’t argue about that.

The other thing you noticed about Daryl was that he always seemed to know where you were. You had noticed him watching you in the camp. At first, it was simple glances here and there and then his eyes started to linger more and more. You considered telling him not to due to how Shane normally reacted whenever another man looked at you, but whenever you turned to look at your boyfriend, his eyes would be on Lori and you would give up and go talk to Andrea or Amy to pass the time.

You had only spoken to Daryl a couple of times. Once when you had run into him as he walked back to camp carrying rabbits on a line. You heard a rustle in the trees and pulled your weapon, a police-issued pistol Shane had given you after the Turn. Daryl froze as the barrel became trained on him. You dropped it immediately. “Shit, sorry,” you had said.

“Careful where ya point that thing, girl,” Daryl had scoffed. “Don’t need my damn head blown off cause ya trigger happy.” You had rolled your eyes and holstered your gun.

“Such a charmer, Dixon,” you told him and left him with his fresh kill. That night after your run-in in the woods was when he first started watching you. The other times you had spoken to him were just in passing and it was always when both Merle and Shane weren’t there. It seemed like your friendship, if you could call it that, was only acknowledged when the alpha males in both of your lives took a hike. And while it bothered you, you accepted it. It’s just the way the world was now.

On the day that Rick told you all that they had left Merle in Atlanta, you knew Daryl was going to be pissed and he definitely was. You watched from the doorway to the RV as Daryl yelled at Rick. The emotion was clear on his face as he thought about his brother being chained to the roof like an animal as he waited to be eaten by Walkers.

When Daryl had thrown a punch and Shane placed him in the chokehold, that is when you stepped in. You shoved Rick back and knocked Shane’s feet from under him. Daryl and Shane went down hard on the ground and Daryl shoved out of Walsh’s arms. “Stop it!” you yelled, getting between the men. “None of this alpha-male bullshit is helping anyone. Rick,” you said, looking at him, “you screwed up. Merle screwed up. It was bound to happen at some point! So instead of acting like idiots, do something.” You then turned and offered your hand to Daryl who took it and you helped him to his feet.

You watched as Daryl stormed off and without thinking, you followed him, ignoring Shane’s calls. You found him as he exited his tent on the edge of the camp. He was throwing things into a backpack and gathering up his bolts for his bow. “Daryl,” you said. He looked up at you and scoffed.

“Don’t need yer sympathy, girl,” he shot at you. “Don’t need ya fightin’ my battles either. I can handle yer damn boyfriend.”

“Never said you couldn’t,” you said. “Shane is a hothead and yeah, Rick can be an asshole, but they mean well.”

“Yer friend Rick left my brother to die!” he yelled, pointing over your shoulder.

“I know,” you said, trying to calm him down, but Daryl marched up to you, getting in your face and looking you over.

“You know nothin’,” he snarled in a low voice before pushing past you, knocking into your shoulder. You pushed your hands into your hair as you took a deep breath.

“(Y/N)!” you turned to see Shane walking towards you.

“What now?” you asked, not wanting to start another argument.

“You need to stay away from Dixon,” he said, crossing his arms.

“Excuse me?” you asked, mirroring his stance. “I don’t need to do anything, Walsh,” you said. “He’s pissed about Merle. What if it was me or Rick that was left on that rooftop? You’d be pretty pissed too.”

“Don’t loop me in with him,” Shane said with a touch of disgust. You rolled your eyes. “What?”

“I’m just sick of people acting like there aren’t worse problems out there than a few petty arguments or having to be with people you don’t like.” You relaxed your arms and reached for his hands and he let you. You squeezed Shane’s hands tight in your own, looking into his eyes. “Shane, there are monsters walking around and we need to start thinking about how to protect our people from them. How to protect the kids like Carl and Sophia.”

“What do you think I’ve been doin’?” he asked, his voice softer. “That’s all I’ve been tryin’ to do, (Y/N).”

“I know, but sometimes you try to take on too much by yourself. Let others take some of the weight, okay? I’m here and now so is Rick. You have Dale and Glenn who are always willin’ to help. Lori, too. Stop trying to be Superman.” Shane looked at you for a moment before he nodded. He then tugged you forward and kissed you firmly. When he pulled away, he leaned his forehead on yours.

“Rick is gonna take Daryl back, go look for Merle,” Shane said quietly.

“Are you goin’ with?” you asked.

“No, I’m stayin’ here to protect the camp,” he then leaned back and looked at you with a fierce look in his eyes. “And so are you.” You knew there was no point in arguing so with a sigh you nodded. He pressed another kiss to your lips before leaving you alone. As Shane walked away, you caught Daryl watching you from where he stood next to Glenn. You couldn’t read his expression, but there was an intensity to it that had you turning away from him.

However, there was a feeling that his eyes remained fixed on you even as you headed into the tent you shared with Shane.

-------

Of course, it wasn’t long until things got worse.

While Daryl, Glenn, Rick, and the others were out looking for Merle, Shane was following Lori around like a lost dog while you distracted Carl, trying to keep his mind off his father leaving again. When you had first met the smallest Grimes, he took to you immediately. You weren’t just Uncle Shane’s girlfriend, Carl considered you family as well.

It was Carl who you were sitting with when the Walkers entered the camp. You heard the screams of panic first and you moved. Grabbing Carl by his collar, you pushed him behind you as you watched Andrea’s sister, Amy, get taken down by a Walker. Carl clutched the back of your jacket as you pulled your own weapon, taking aim at the monsters that converged on the quarry.

Shane was there in a second and he took out all the Walkers that surrounded the RV. He then pushed all the kids towards the vehicle, locking them inside as the rest of you aimed at the Dead. Only a moment later, shots were coming from another direction. Rick and the others came through the woods, their guns blazing. Their sudden appearance caused you to miss the Walker stumbling towards you. You raised your gun as it grabbed your shoulder, but a bolt flew past your ear and struck the Walker that clung to you. Daryl ran past you, giving you a once over before taking aim again.

Snapping out of your shock, you finished off the rest of the Walkers that feasted on your new comrades. A cry pulled your attention as you saw Carol staring at her now-dead husband. You had no remorse for Ed, he wasn’t a good man at all, but the heartbreak on both Carol and Sophia’s faces made you pause.

Once the Walkers were down and people had calmed down, you searched for Shane. You found him by the RV, moving the kids out and away from the body that lay before it. You didn’t need to look closer to know it was Amy. You turned away, looking for Carl and felt relief when you saw him with his parents as the three of them embraced. Looking back over your shoulder you saw Shane and how he watched the Grimes family. The envy in his eyes made you uneasy. He looked at the man he considered his brother as a rival now even though Lori was never his, to begin with. Again, you shoved down your feelings and went to help move the bodies out of the camp.

It was morning by the time everyone had sorted between the Dead. Two piles. One for friends to be buried and the other full of Walkers that were to be burned. You didn’t see the point in either practice. You knew that if you walked down the hill and onto the roads, bodies were strewn everywhere. It had simply become the new normal. However, you knew it was their way of trying to find some normalcy in the new screwed up world, but you couldn’t see it the way they could.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Andrea as she knelt over Amy’s body. You knew that she would turn any time now. It was already happening and it made you sick to think about someone you knew becoming one of those things. It was all just a bit too much at that moment.

You excused yourself and headed to the far side of the camp, settling down on a log, leaning your forearms on your knees. You took a few deep breaths and tried to focus on anything that wasn’t the memory of the screams of people being torn apart. The log shifted as someone took a spot next to you. You figured it was Shane so you ignored him. However, when you spotted the crossbow on the ground between their feet, you relaxed and turned to look at Daryl.

“Thanks for last night,” you said, breaking the silence. He grunted a response that you had become accustomed to. “What happened?” you asked, not needing to elaborate further. Everyone noticed that only one Dixon brother came back.

“He’s gone,” Daryl muttered, “cut his own damn hand off to get out of the cuffs.” Your brows shot up at that, but you weren’t that surprised. It sounded like something Merle Dixon would do.

“I’m sorry,” you told him, turning your face back towards the camp as Glenn dragged more bodies through the camp.

“What she waitin’ for?” Daryl asked as he looked at Andrea.

“People cope differently,” you said. “Maybe she just needs to see it for herself.”

“Don’t make sense,” he mumbled.

“I don’t get it either,” you sighed, “Dead is dead. Whatever this is…” you waved your hand vaguely at the Walker corpses, “They just need to be put down. Amy doesn’t deserve to become a monster.”

“I could probably hit her from here,” Daryl said, toeing his bow, but you shook your head.

“She nearly ripped Rick’s head off when he mentioned putting her down. We don’t need any more damn fighting,” you said with a warning tone. Daryl nodded and then was silent for a bit.

“I agree with ya, ya know?” Daryl said after a minute.

“About what?” you asked.

“Nobody deserves to be a Walker,” he clarified. “I wouldn’t want someone to wait, ya know?”

“I do,” you said, understanding. “Make me a deal, Dixon. If I get bit, you shoot me right away. Don’t let me turn,” you said, offering your hand. Daryl looked at you and then took your hand in his, gripping it tightly.

“Only if ya return the favor,” he said and you nodded. You shook hands and then let go, feeling Shane’s eyes on you. “Yer boy keeps starin’,” Daryl said.

“Yeah,” you said before you stood up, brushing off your jeans. “I’m holdin’ you to that promise.” He nodded to you again and you left him alone to his thoughts.

------

When Rick and Shane decided to go to the CDC, you were less than thrilled.

The last thing you wanted was to go back into the city. Considering the things you saw there the last time you were there, it wasn’t the most desirable plan. However, you knew that you were outnumbered, and with Jim trying to fight the infection, you went along with it.

Everyone knew that Jim wasn’t long for the world. The fever took him fast and you knew there wasn’t a cure. If there was one, every street in Atlanta wouldn’t be crawling with Walkers and littered with half-eaten bodies. Again, you also knew that it was all about optimism and Rick felt that this was the right choice.

Sitting in the RV, you leaned against Shane. He kept his arm wrapped around you and rubbed your arm and down the side of your thigh. It was nice to just sit with him for once instead of feeling the distance that had began to deepen between the two of you. Shane rested his head on your shoulder, kissing the place your neck met your shoulder and you sighed, resting your head against his chest. Carl was making kissing faces at the both of you and you stuck your tongue at him causing him to laugh.

“You trying to steal my girl, Grimes?” Shane teased the kid.

“(Y/N) likes me better!” Carl joked causing Shane to chuckle. He gripped you tighter, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Easy gentlemen,” you said with a smile. “I think we both know that Lori and I are the true soulmates.” Lori laughed at that.

“I’ll take that,” she laughed.

It was an easy ride from there on until Jim got worse. You all went from laughing and joking to feeling somber as Daryl, Rick, and Shane helped Jim off the road and under a tree. When they tried to hand him a weapon, Jim shook his head. Rick and Shane left him, giving him a final goodbye, but Daryl stalled, looking down at his bow and the dying man. He then turned and started to walk back to the truck. You stepped in his path, a pleading look in your eyes. He shook his head.

“It’s his choice, (Y/N),” Daryl said, knowing what you wanted to say. Daryl pushed past you as Jim closed his eyes. You fought the urge to yell as you made your way back into the RV. Instead of sitting back down with Shane, you went to the back and laid down, trying to drown out everything around you. You fell asleep as the RV rumbled beneath you, getting some decent rest for the first time in weeks.

Shane lightly shook you awake when the caravan finally came to a stop. The look on his face made you sit up quickly. “What is it?” you asked.

“Just...prepare yourself,” he said and offered his hand. You took it and he led you out of the RV. The smell was what hit you first and then you saw the source. Bodies were everywhere. Lori and Carol kept their arms around their children as your group moved through the rotting corpses. Daryl and Rick headed up the group while you and Shane took the rear, all of your weapons ready to fire if needed.

“I don’t like this,” you whispered to Shane as you stepped over another body.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep ya safe, (Y/L/N),” he joked, poking you in the ribs.

“It’s not funny, Shane,” you chastised. “I don’t like being out in the open like this. We’re vulnerable, especially with the kids.”

“Everything is gonna be fine,” Shane assured you. He winked at you and you pushed ahead of him as you started to hear groans and shuffling of the Dead as they noticed you moving towards the shuttered building. Daryl began taking them out while Rick yelled at the cameras. Lori urged her husband to leave it. Rick continued to yell, begging that whoever was inside to open the doors because they had children and they were desperate. You wanted to yell at him to shut up as more Walkers kept coming out of the shadows.

You stumble over a corpse, nearly going down when Carol caught your arm and pulled you back up. Daryl stepped in front of you then, covering you, Carol, and Sophia. Rick was still yelling and that was when Shane started too. He called to Rick, trying to get him to retreat, but before any of you could make your way back to the cars, the metal shudders slid open with blinding lights. You gawked at the sight and then you felt hands tugging you along as Shane gripped your wrist and pulled you through the mess of dead bodies and into the safety of the CDC.

------

Doctor Jenner was an odd one and you didn’t trust him.

Glenn, however, was thrilled at the promise of hot water, and then when the wine was cracked open, everybody loved Jenner. Even Daryl had a smile on his face as he drank wine and laughed with the others, his Georgian accent getting thicker with every sip. Shane drank deeply as he sat at the table next to you, his hand gripping your leg under the table. Your glass remained full as you occasionally swirled it in your hand. You figured someone had to be sober when eventually everything went to shit.

Daryl filled up Glenn’s glass again as T-Dog went for thirds. And while you were worried about things and just trying to stay calm, it was nice to see your friends and family laughing for the first time in weeks. You offered Shane the rest of your wine and he drank greedily. “Thanks, babe,” he said, kissing you. You could taste the alcohol on his lips as he kissed you and leaned his head against yours. He downed the rest of the wine and you caught Daryl looking at you. When your eyes met his, he quickly looked away and took a long pull from the bottle in his hands. The whole back and forth was starting to get tiring.

Eventually, it was time for some much-needed sleep. It would be the next morning when Jenner started explaining everything so you all headed to your new beds for the night. You and Shane pushed into a vacant room, pulling off your boots. Laying in bed, you stretched out, enjoying the feel of a proper mattress under you for the first time since the world ended. Shane stumbled over to the bed, dropping down beside you. He rolled over and braced his elbowd on either side of you. He leaned down to kiss you as his hands ran up your sides, but you pushed him back.

“You’re drunk, Shane,” you said, pushing against his chest. He looked down at you with a frown.

“(Y/N)...,” he whined, kissing down your neck.

“Shane, stop,” you said, taking his shoulders and pushing him again. This time he relented and flipped back over. He sighed as his eyes pressed closed. His hand found yours, playing with your fingers.

“I love you…” he said, looking over at you with heavy eyes.

“I love you, too, idiot,” you said. Shane huffed and sat up. “Where are you going?” you asked as you watched him stagger towards the door.

“Gonna walk it off,” Shane mumbled. “See if Rick is still up.” Shane stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind him. You flopped back down to the mattress and then eyed the bathroom on the other side of the room. You figured you wouldn’t get another chance to have hot water in a while so you headed for a much-needed shower.

As soon as the hot water hit your body, you felt as if you were transported back in time. You stayed under the spray as long as possible, relishing in the feel of finally being clean after living in the woods for so long. You scrubbed your hair until it slipped through your fingers, free of tangles. Once you had your fill of the luxury the CDC had to offer, you shut the water off and grabbed a fluffy towel, wrapping it around your body.

After getting dressed and combing your fingers through your hair, you figured you should go find your boyfriend before he passed out in some lab or something. The halls of the residences were quiet as you moved through them, peeking around corners as you searched for Shane. When you turned again, you nearly ran into someone. They steadied you with their hands, grabbing onto your shoulders. Looking up, you saw that it was Daryl.

“Ya showered,” he said. You nodded slowly, trying not to laugh at his surprised expression. You then noticed the fine layer of dirty still adorning his skin.

“Yeah, you should try it, mountain man,” you teased, flicking a piece of dirt off his shirt. He scoffed at your words. He then realized he was still holding onto you and awkwardly let go. “Hey, have you seen Shane? He’s not exactly lucid right now and I don’t wanna find him passed out in a supply closet.” Daryl’s jaw went rigid at your words.

“Ya, saw him followin’ Grimes,” he said, looking away from you.

“Rick?”

“Nah,” Daryl grunted, moving past you, “Lori.”

-----

You didn’t bother to look for Shane after your run-in with Daryl. You went back to your room and tried to get some sleep. This time you did feel like an idiot. As if Shane would really leave her alone just because Rick was back. You stared at the ceiling, trying to stop your mind from creating scenarios about Lori and Shane in your head.

An hour or so later and the door opened. Shane glided into the room, clearly not as drunk as he had been. He pulled off his shoes and sank onto the mattress beside you. He rolled into your side, throwing an arm across your waist, his fingers playing with the fabric of your shirt. “I’m sorry about before,” he said, “you know I’m an ass when I drink.” You did know that which is why you had remained sober.

“It’s fine,” you said, which is what you always said when he apologized when he was being an asshole. His hand stilled on your stomach as his breathing slowed and he slowly fell asleep. A small amount of light entered the room from a crack in the door and as you looked down at your boyfriend you could see fresh scratch marks on his neck. You didn’t have to think too hard about whose nails had made them.

Your hand came up and carded through Shane’s hair. In his sleep, he nuzzled you closer and you had to fight the tears that welled up. You could do this, you could be there for him when he needed it because that is what you had always done for him. The end of the world didn’t need to change that. Right?

——-

The next day everything went from bad to worse.

Watching the MRI on the large monitor was horrifying. Even Shane was disturbed. As you all watched the patient reanimate, Shane had reached over and gripped your hand. The two of you hadn’t said anything about the previous night. At breakfast, he had played off the scratches as a drunken accident, but you noted the look in Lori’s face and you noticed that Daryl and even Carol were looking at her and Shane with accusatory glances.

When Jenner invited you all into the main theater for the explanation, hope was upon everyone’s faces as they urged the doctor to tell them about a cure. However, just as you suspected, there wasn’t one. Jenner explained that he was the only one left. He worked as hard as he could, but eventually there was no point.

Then, as soon as everybody started to realize what was happening, it was nearly too late.

The blaring red countdown clock was staring you all in the face as the CDC went into full lockdown. Sophia and Carl were stressed and Daryl was pissed. Rick and the others had to restrain the archer as he nearly decapitated Jenner with a fire ax. You, yourself, wanted to attack the man as well. You also wanted to beat Rick to a pulp for getting you into this mess in the first place.

Eventually, Rick convinced Jenner to let you out, but Andrea, Dale, and Jacqui were staying behind to succumb to the implosion. You rushed after the others towards the lobby. Shane pulled you along, nearly carrying you as you sped through the halls. With the metal shudders lifted, you could see the bodies of the dead even clearer in the sunlight now through the large windows. While you weren’t thrilled about going back into the world of the Dead, it was better than being incinerated.

You knew you were in trouble when the glass wouldn’t break. When Carol had produced the grenade, you could have kissed her. Rick set the charge and you all hit the deck. When the blast went off, you felt a body cover you and you knew immediately that it wasn’t Shane.

You didn’t say a word as Daryl used his body to keep you close to the ground. You just waited for the ground to stop moving before getting your bearings. Daryl hauled you up and took off towards the blown-out window without saying a word.

You helped with the kids as they climbed down to the ground, keeping them from the shattered glass. Then, following the others, you took off across the courtyard. Aiming your gun, you and some of the others took out Walkers that were drawn by the grenade. You all ran for the cars going as fast as you could. Entering the RV, you all hunkered down. You could see Daryl dive into his truck and Rick shouted at everyone to cover their ears.

But then Dale and Andrea came running out of the building. You crouched down again unable to see if they made it or not and this time it was Shane that held onto you. You covered your ears as a blast echoed throughout the city. The RV shook around you and when the smoke cleared and you stood up to look out the window, the CDC was gone.

#walking dead #the walking dead #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead imagines #walkerwords #shane walsh x reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon #shane walsh #rick grimes #season 1 twd #twd #twd imagines

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words-with-wren · 4 years ago

Text

you’ll be alright, no one can hurt you now

Words: 3,500ish

Fandom: Tangled the Series

Characters: Varian, Eugene, Rapunzel, Ruddiger (also Pascal make an appearance)

Warnings: minor whump (I keep putting Varian through it i’m not sorry), flashbacks, probably bad portrayal of PTSD

___

“So what, exactly, is this amazing new job you have?” Varian asked. He was sitting on a barrel in the armoury, Ruddiger dozing in his lap. The armoury was not Varian’s favourite place in the castle, to say the least, but Eugene had invited him along while he got ready and Varian wasn’t going to say no to a Team Awesome adventure, as small though it was.

Something heavy hit the ground around the corner where Eugene was getting changed. A muffled curse followed, Eugene muttering something under his breath. There was a moment of silence, in which Varian smiled fondly and stroked Ruddiger’s ears.

“Uh, yeah, fancy new job - as captain of the guard I have the prestigious honour of standing by and looking fancy while the important boatload of people comes in from Ingvarr.”

Varian couldn’t help but smile at the way he spoke - he clearly wasn't that keen on the job opportunity.

“You’ll be great at it, isn’t standing around looking fancy what you do most of the day anyway?”

“Ha!” Eugene shot back from behind the wall, and Varian grinned again. “I’ll have you know it’s taken a lot of effort to look this fancy.”

A pair of guards marched passed the door and Varian shifted to watch them, suddenly on edge. He slipped off the barrel, relocating a slightly grumpy Ruddiger to his shoulder and stepped a little closer towards the wall Eugene was behind.

“So, why exactly, did we need to come down here? Are you not fancy enough already?” he asked, forcing himself to relax. There wasn’t anything to be nervous about - he just didn’t like this part of the castle.

“Kid I am always fancy enough,” Eugene said, sounding almost offended. Varian rolled his eyes with a grin. “However, as captain of the guard, I have the ability to… dress up a little.” He stepped out into view and Varian froze.

It wasn’t that he was surprised - he had suspected this was why they had come down here in the first place. It was more the sudden wave of memories and emotions that seeing Eugene in the guard uniform brought back.

Cold, stone walls. Cruel faces, hard blows, pushes, kicks, hungry days and endless nights. Gold metal, flashing off the dim light that shone through his tiny window. Red fabric, red like the blood he found on his hands sometimes.

He was breathing quickly, frozen, unable to move, unable to properly think. Somehow, it was worse seeing Eugene in their uniform. Eugene was comfort, friendship, home, happiness. The guards were hard, cruel, pain, loneliness. He couldn’t connect the two in his mind and seeing Eugene in the armour made him feel sick.

And yet Eugene stood before him, the sparkling gold chest plate of the Corona guard shining on his chest. And Varian froze, the achingly familiar expression of hardness and emotionlessness settling on his face instinctively.

“Kid?” Eugene asked, taking a hesitant step forward. He hadn’t missed the panic that flashed across Varian’s face before being replaced with a carefully schooled expression that betrayed nothing. Ruddiger chattered nervously, gently butting Varian’s cheek. Varian, as though he wasn’t aware of what he was doing, pulled Ruddiger down, hugging him close, watching Eugene with an expression he didn’t like.

“Do I really look that bad?” Eugene asked, keeping his voice light. He took a step forward but Varian flinched, stepping back quickly and Eugene froze. “Hey, it’s alright kid.” He crouched, trying to make himself seem less threatening, unsure what exactly had Varian so spooked.

“I -” Varian began, his voice shaky.

“It’s just Eugene,” he tried to tell himself, but the armour in front of him brought back too many memories, too many long faded bruises and hopeless nights. “Eugene wouldn’t hurt me.”

But the guards would. And standing in front of him was a guard.

“Varian, talk to me buddy,” Eugene's voice was even and Varian took a shaky breath, pressing his face into Ruddiger’s fur.

“It’s just Eugene,” he told himself again.

“Everything alright, captain?”

The voice sent a rush of panic through him, nausea rising for a moment. He knew that voice - it had been directed towards him many times. The scornful, mocking, cruel voice of one of the guards who had frequented him while he was in prison.

(For a moment, he was back, the walls drawing in around him, the helplessness weighing on him again and he couldn’t breathe.)

“Everything is fine, Rick,” Eugene said, his voice hard. He didn’t stand, looking past Varian’s slightly shaking form. He had butted heads with the man a few times since becoming captain - Rick was one of the vocal guard members who were not a fan of having a former criminal become captain of the guard.

He had also, from memory, run into him from time to time while running as Flynn Rider. None of the interactions had been pleasant. And from the way Varian was shaking, the boy had a similar experience.

“Are you sure? Because I can deal with him, if you want me to.” There was an air of smugness about Rick, as though he knew Eugene couldn’t do anything to him. Realistically, he was right - even as captain, there was only so much Eugene could do. Especially with half the guard waiting for him to fail.

A small whimper escaped from Varian at the words and he took an uncertain step towards Eugene. He was holding Ruddiger so tightly, Eugene wondered briefly if he was hurting the animal, but Ruddiger wasn’t complaining, pressing his face into Varian’s chin in a comforting gesture.

Eugene stood slowly, not missing the slight flinch the movement drew from Varian. He was beginning to piece the picture together - Corona was infamous for its mistreatment of criminals after Rapunzel had been taken. Eugene himself had experienced abuse at the hands of the Corona guard on the few occasions they had managed to catch him.

He had just been a petty thief. Varian had been a traitor. Had kidnapped the queen and threatened Corona’s beloved princess.

A slow flame of anger began burning in Eugene’s chest as the thoughts flashed through his mind in a second. Varian was standing between himself and Rick, shivering slightly, holding Ruddiger tight and Eugene clenched his fists.

“I think you should leave,” he said, struggling to keep his voice under control. Rick eyed him for a long moment and then smirked.

“And what are you going to do, Rider. Criminals sticking together, I see.” He spat the last, taking a threatening step forward.

Varian felt fear clench at his chest and he took a step back, towards the comforting presence of Eugene. But the flash of gold from Eugene’s uniform caught the corner of his eye and he bit his lip, trying to not to show emotion.

And then a hand was placed on his shoulder and Varian couldn’t handle it anymore. Terror shot through him, the memories of all the beatings and pain and fear and hopelessness overwhelming him. He couldn't breathe for a moment - he had to move, to get away from the gold armour and the sneers. The memories of that darkness. He had to run. He shoved back against the hand on his shoulder, needing to get away before the beatings began, before the pain returned.

He barely knew where he was going, just that he had to run, had to get away, had to find somewhere safe. Ruddiger was warm in his arms and he buried his face in the raccoon’s fur, hot tears leaking from his eyes as he ran.

A part of him hated that he was running. Hated that he was running from Eugene. But the wild, animal fear and panic overtook him and he ran.

Eugene raised his hand with an internal curse - Varian usually loved touch, loved casual hands on his shoulder or hair ruffles. But clearly this had been too much and Eugene berated himself for not seeing that.

Rick let out a short laugh as Varian bolted from the room.

“Looks like you caught him in another crime. What was he doing this time? Sabotaging the water?”

He laughed as though it were funny and Eugene fought down the urge to punch him. He forced his anger back with effort, clenching his fists by his side and quickly leaving the room.

“We’re going to have a talk later,” he said as he left, his voice sharp. Rick only laughed again, and Eugene tried not to let that get to him.

Varian had vanished, and Eugene tried not to let worry take over. He took a shaky breath and decided that was probably for the best - however he had spooked Varian to begin with, he probably wasn’t the best person to be tracking down the kid.

He didn’t even knock as he pushed open the door to Rapunzel’s room. She looked up in surprise as he entered, lowering the brush she was running through her hair.

“Eugene, what’s wrong?” she asked, instantly sensing his concern. He let out a long breath, pacing the room.

“I lost the kid,” he muttered. “He spooked, or something and… just ran.”

“Varian?” Rapunzel asked, and Eugene nodded, stopping in the middle of the room and playing with the glove on one hand.

“I’m not sure what exactly it was,” he said. “Bad memories… something. Rick didn’t help,” he added darkly. “But I don’t think I’m the best person to be looking for him right now.”

“I’ll find him,” Rapunzel said, without hesitation. She placed the brush down and stood and Eugene couldn’t help but feel relieved, even though he knew she would help. He reached out to take her hand, moving hair out of her face with his other hand. “If the ambassador arrives before I find him -”

“I’ll cover for you, don’t worry,” he said, holding her hands with his. She smiled, reaching up to kiss him quickly. “Thanks, Sunshine,” he said as she pulled away, Pascal bounding up her dress onto her shoulder.

“I’ll find him, don’t worry,” Rapunzel said as she left the room. Eugene let out a long breath as she left, running a hand through his hair and forcing himself to breathe.

Pascal chirped in Rapunzel’s ear as she moved quickly through the halls, trying to guess where Varian might be hiding. She was vaguely aware of the greetings from various guards and maids in the halls as she made her way towards Varian’s lab. Each greeting she returned, but her heart wasn’t in it, concern for her friend growing.

“Varian?” she called, knocking lightly in the laboratory door. There was no answer, so she pushed it open slowly.

The room was empty, a complicated pattern of pipes and jars set up on the table, messy notes scribble along the walls. Rapunzel stepped into the room, flicking off the flame that was burning under a vial of some bubbling blue chemical (that really didn’t seem safe) and turning to take in the whole room.

“Varian?” she called. Pascal crawled down her dress to examine under the table, in case he was hiding there. There was no answer, and Rapunzel frowned, worried. Pascal bounded back to her and she bent to pick him up, lifting her back to her shoulder. “Where could he be?” she muttered. Pascal shrugged.

Eugene had said something had spooked him, it was likely he would find somewhere to hide. She mentally ran through a checklist of places, rejecting a few (there would be too many people in the kitchen, he couldn’t climb like Pascal, he was much larger than Pascal) and finally began to move through the castle.

It was the third place she looked that she finally found him. The linen cupboard on the second floor, curled up on the bottom shelf so small she almost missed him when she opened the door. Ruddiger caught her attention, trilling softly.

She settled on her knees, bending down to see him. He was curled in a tight ball, clutching Ruddigier, his face turned away from her.

“Varian?” she asked quietly. He took a shaky breath and looked up, a clearly forced smile on his face.

“Oh, uh, he-hey, princess,” he said, rubbing a hand across his face. “Uh, sorry I was just..”

Rapunzel resisted the urge to haul him into a hug - he seemed raw, fragile and she wasn’t sure if that would help or make things worse. Instead, she shifted, sitting cross-legged and smiled.

“It’s okay,” she said. “You want to talk?”

He hesitated, looking down at Ruddiger and running a hand through the raccoon’s fur.

“I don’t know,” he said finally, not looking up.

“How about a hug then?” Rapunzel asked. He looked up finally, a small real smile on his face.

“Yeah, I could go for that,” he said. Rapunzel didn’t hesitate any longer, reaching into the cupboard and pulling him into her arms. He relaxed into her, Ruddiger pressed in between them. For a long time, she stayed like that, holding him, and slowly, she became aware that he was crying, his shoulders shaking silently.

“Varian?” she asked, burying a hand in his hair. He pulled back, sitting on the edge of the shelf and looking down. His eyes were wet and he ran a hand through Ruddiger’s fur, not meeting her eyes.

“Sorry,” he muttered, blinking a few times. Rapunzel leaned forward, laying a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t be,” she said quietly.

“I just…” He wrapped a hand around himself, the other still buried in Ruddiger’s fur. “I saw Eugene in that uniform and… eh-heh. It brought back bad memories.” He looked up, meeting her eyes for a second and then dropping his. “Is… I mean… Eugene, he’s…” He trailed off, unable to find the words.

“Eugene understands,” she said quietly. “And he doesn’t blame you - no one does.” She shifted, standing and holding out a hand. “Want to find somewhere more comfortable to talk about it? Besides,” she added, a slight grin in her voice, “we want to get away before Old Lady Crowley finds us in her linens - she’ll make us wash them all.”

That got a small smile out of Varian. He hesitated a moment, then took her hand and let her pull him up. Ruddiger bounded onto his shoulder as Rapunzel led him back towards her room, his hand still firmly grasped in hers.

They were settled on Rapunzel’s bed when there was a soft knock at the door, and Eugene’s face appeared. Relief washed across his face as he caught sight of Varian.

“You found him,” he said, the relief clear in his voice. “I’ll… leave you to it, then.” He began to close the door but Varian stopped him before he left fully.

“No!” he called. “No, I… I mean… you don’t have too.” He rubbed Ruddiger’s fur between his fingers, forcing a small smile. Eugene seemed relieved at the invitation, stepping into the room.

To Varian’s relief, he was no longer wearing the uniform. He crossed the room, settling on the bed a little apart from them, concern clear on his face. But no accusation. No blame, and Varian was grateful for that.

Unable to take the distance between them anymore, Varian moved across the bed, wrapping his arms around Eugene and hugging him tightly. For a moment, Eugene reacted in surprise, then he returned the embrace, rubbing Varian’s back.

“Sorry,” Varian whispered.

“Hey, don’t be kiddo,” Eugene said. Varian pulled back with a smile and Rapunzel shifted closer to them.

“You want to talk?” Rapunzel asked, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. Ruddiger bounded back into his lap and suddenly, nestled between Rapunzel and Eugene, Varian realised he did want to talk.

He hadn’t spoken to anyone about what that year had been like. Hadn’t shown anyone except Ruddiger how much it had worn away at him, how much it had chipped him down and exhausted him. It had seemed too dark, too hard to revisit.

But Eugene’s arm around him was strong, Rapunzel’s warm. They were both watching him, unaccusingly, unpitying, just lovingly. Ruddiger purred softly, giving him the strength he needed to talk.

He talked. He told them about the anger, about the rage he felt towards everyone who had betrayed him. He told them about the cold cell, about the prison food, about the long nights, the loneliness. He told them about the guards, how they accused him, beat him, starved him. (He felt Eugene’s fist clench behind his back, saw Rapunzel’s face harden, knew they were angry, but not at him.)

He told them about the darkness, about the coldness, about the hopelessness. He told them about way they slowly chipped away at everything that made him who he was, turned him into a shell of anger and hurt and brokenness.

He told them about Andrew, about the false hope he had grasped at. He told them about how he had clung to the Saporians like a lifeline, how he had internalised every comment, how he had seen no other way out. He told them how he had broken, and for a moment, he broke again in their arms.

They held him for a long time after he finished. They held him and let him cry, warm and safe in their arms.

“I’m sorry,” Rapunzel said softly, and there was a weight to her words that told Varian she meant more than just what had happened after he had been arrested. Varian leaned forward and took her hand, leaning into her. He had long ago forgiven her for that night.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he said quietly, his voice raw with emotions.

“It still shouldn’t have happened.” Eugene’s voice was hard when he spoke and there was a dangerous light in his eyes.

“Maybe it should have,” Varian whispered, half hoping they didn’t hear him. That was his deepest fear, the thought that haunted him at night. That he deserved what had happened after everything he had done.

“Don’t say that,” Rapunzel said. She gently cupped his face in her hands, lifting his chin so he looked up and her. “Don’t ever say that.”

“The things I did…” Varian couldn’t meet her eyes. Sometimes, when he was laughing with Eugene or experimenting with Rapunzel, it felt like a distant dream, all that anger and fear and rage. The things he had done, the bonds he had broken, the people he had betrayed.

Sometimes, it felt like only a few days since it had happened and he was starkly reminded of the monster he had become.

“Hey,” Eugene said, rubbing a hand along Varian’s back. “Yeah, you did some bad things. But you were scared, and you were alone. I’m sorry we weren’t there for you.”

“Eugene’s right,” Rapunzel said, and Varian looked up at her. “And whatever the case, no one should have to go through what you did.” Something in her expression hardened. “And I intend to have a long talk with my father about that.”

Varian leaned back into her embrace, closing his eyes and for a moment, letting himself be loved.

A soft knock on the door and the queen’s voice interrupted them.

“Rapunzel, honey - the ambassador is nearly here, you’re needed.”

Eugene and Rapunzel exchanged a look over Varian’s head, silent communication passing between them.

“You should go,” Varian said before their silent conversation had finished, before Rapunzel had a chance to insist she stay. Because she would - he could see it in her eyes. She would stay because last time she hadn’t. He pushed himself up, leaving Rapunzel’s embrace a little reluctantly. “Your kingdom needs you. I’ll be alright.”

“I’ll stay,” Eugene said quietly, laying a hand on Varian’s shoulder, and Varian couldn’t help but be a little relieved. As important as Rapunzel being there for her kingdom was, he didn’t really want to be alone at the moment.

“Thank you,” Rapunzel said. She slipped off the bed, glancing in the mirror to check she was presentable. “And Varian,” she added as she left the room, Pascal on her shoulder. “If you ever need to talk, or even just a hug-”

“I know. Thank you,” Varian said, smiling slightly. She returned the smile, slipping out of the room.

Eugene slung an arm around Varian’s shoulder and the boy leaned into him, Ruddiger warm in his lap.

“How’re feeling, kiddo?” Eugene asked quietly.

“Honestly? Tired,” Varian admitted. “But… good. Thank you for listening.”

“Anytime.” A long, comfortable silence filled the room, and then Eugene spoke up again. “Hey, maybe you can help me redesign the guard uniform.”

“Huh?” Varian shifted, looking up at him. “You don’t have to-”

“Neh, uniform’s kinda ugly anyway. Besides, blue is much more my colour.”

“You can’t just… change the guard uniforms. For me,” Varian said, an almost laugh in his voice. Eugene gently shoved him, grinning.

“Why not? I’m the captain of the guard now, I can do what I want.”

“Careful you don’t abuse your power,” Varian said, shouldering him back. Eugene grinned, ruffling his hair.

“I would never.”

If, a few days later, a number of guards found themselves out of a job - Rick included - no one would accuse Eugene of abusing his power.

#tangled the series #tts #rapunzel's tangled adventure #rta #tangled #varian #eugene fitzherbert #rapunzel #team awesome #ruddiger #hurt/comfort #whump #hugs

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