#( the reapers )

[whyeverr]

THE REAPERS CASTLE

This absurdly large castle nestled in the Glimmerbrook highlands was originally constructed as a hunting lodge for some fancy lord-something or other, and has seen numerous renovations and additions over the centuries — keeping up with the Von Haunts, if you will. Today, its stately grounds and sumptuous interiors serve the grandest of modern purposes: as the filming location for the hit reality television series, The Reapers.

Lot details:

Lot Type: Residential (10 bed, 10 bath)

Price: §608,093

Size: 40x30

Location: Rock Ridge Canyon, Glimmerbrook

Furnished to host a certain reality competition show but could be redecorated (with an obvious focus on the breakfast and round table rooms) if you're looking to move in permanently

I’ve used from all packs freely here — it's gonna get pretty weird if you don't have the Castle Kit

The Traitors Reapers Turret (and a secret tower prison) are only accessible via teleportation — see more here / here and floor plans under the cut

Download via the Sims 4 Gallery or tray files via Sim File Share. Please don’t re-upload or share without credit. Thank you!

[grelleswife]

Yana giving reaper stans a new blorbo in the cruelest way possible:

[beembugs]

Rip Grelle you would’ve loved Chappell Roan

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 5,746 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female!Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: S10/S11, The Reapers Warnings: strong language, violence, gore, blood and injury, angsttttt A/N: All gifs made by me. :) This is Part 9 of a series! Find all the parts on my pinned post, the Master List! Summary: The group continues through the subway tunnel and runs into trouble with the dead. Coming out on the other side, they set off to resupply and regroup.

Previous Chapter - Part 8

As if the creaking and groaning in the pipes wasn’t bad enough, then you came to the corpses. None of you had seen the massive walker rise up behind Gage and Negan was the first one to spring into action. He managed to pin it up against the wall, but it struggled against him, nearly overpowering him as everyone stood watching. It looked as if Negan wouldn’t be able to hold it. “Ah, shit,” you swore aloud and darted over and stabbed it in the side of the head with your blade with a grunt of effort. It stilled immediately and slid down against the wall at your feet. Negan stumbled back, out of breath. “Jesus...” he murmured, glancing at the slime and skin that had slipped off the enormous rotter with disgust. You didn’t say anything in return and the two of you looked back at the rest of the group. All eyes were on you and Negan. You hung back and kept your mouth shut as the arguing started and rose to a near fatal conclusion.

Things didn’t get any better… It wasn’t long after, when you’d all nearly finished your work on clearing the tunnel, that Alden realized Gage and Roy were gone, along with most of the supplies you’d all set aside.

“Shit,” you swore under your breath. “This is what all our fucking arguing got us. That’s most of our rations, our batteries for the flashlights. And we’re blocked here anyway,” you said, gesturing to the train car. Negan was wise enough to keep his mouth shut. Daryl punching him across the face to shut him up seemed to have made an impression, even if it was mostly to avoid Maggie’s rage overboiling and activating her itchy trigger finger.

There was more discussion about what to do next when Daryl suddenly shushed everyone and held up a hand. Growls, a distinctive sound despite the echo off the arched stone walls. The beams of your flashlights illuminated an approaching herd. Too many to count. Perhaps they’d wandered in to instinctively seek shelter from the storm, some part of their diseased brains compelling them to go underground. Perhaps it was random movement or pure coincidence. Whatever it was, you all snapped into action.

You stood alongside Daryl and the others as you readied your bow. Gabriel and Alden frantically tried to pry open the subway car door, but it was jammed shut. Arrows flew and weapons swung and knives plunged, but there were just too many. By the time Daryl gave the call to fall back you were already splattered with walker blood nearly head to tow.

“Up on top! Go! Go!” Daryl yelled. He ushered you toward the car and gave you a frantic look. “I’ll be right behind you,” he said.

“You better be,” you said, stretching and reaching for the first handhold you could find. You’d just been hauled to safety with the help of the others when you heard Dog barking and Daryl frantically shouting after him.

“Dog, no! Dog!” Daryl started toward the side where there was a narrow space in the rubble that Dog had apparently run through. You heard him yell to Maggie. “Meet me at the other end!”

“Daryl, wait! No—Daryl, wait!” Maggie’s frantic voice answered. You knew right then what you had to do, and you swung yourself over the back of the subway car and dropped to your feet again, perhaps a bit clumsily. Negan and Maggie looked at you in surprise. Maggie looked fearful.

“See you on the other side,” you shouted over the approaching growls. “You better go! Go! Climb!” you yelled over your shoulder. You darted after Daryl and soon caught up to him just inside the tight tunnel.

“Y/N?” he looked behind himself at your huddled form over the broken concrete. “No—go back! Stay with the others and—ain’t no way to know where this is goin’ or what’s on the other end!”

“I told you—I’m not separating from you if I can help it! Now hurry up. We need to get to Dog,” you said with finality.

Daryl gulped and turned back around, squeezing himself through the debris. You followed closely behind, glancing over your shoulder as if you expected the horde to follow you in. Finally, Dog’s barking was closer and you came upon an opening in the concrete that had clearly been made in the shape of a door. Daryl stepped out and turned around to take you hand and help you. His fingers squeezed around yours gently and he gave you a worried look. “I shoulda listened to ya. I mean fuck Negan, but I shoulda listened to ya. ‘M sorry,” he said, regret thick and heavy on his tongue.

“It’s okay. We’ll be fine. As long as we’re together, right?”

He nodded solemnly and then turned to look at your surroundings. You were in the remains of an underground camp in an old decommissioned tunnel. Dog was panting at Daryl’s side. It was eerie and silent and the air seemed heavy and dank. Daryl lifted the beam of his flashlight and shone it over graffitied words and a sprawling mural depicting a conflict of the classes. You noticed him swallow thickly and saw that his eyes were slightly glassy. You grabbed his hand again and laced your fingers with his and he looked down at it.

Your eyes wandered over the wall again and the detritus of people who were no longer here. “Do you think this is from before or… or after?” you asked him softly.

The muscle in his jaw clenched. “Both,” he said. “C’mon. Let’s see if there’s anythin’ worth takin’ now that most of our supplies are gone.” You nodded and the two of you started to move on slowly, scanning the heaps of moldering sleeping bags and clothes for anything useful. Daryl picked up a small plastic bag. He pulled out a 100-dollar bill and you read it in the glow of his light. Next, his fingers found a Polaroid photo of two smiling kids, a brother and a sister.

Your heart ached and your stomach felt hollow, as if it suddenly contained a chasm of space that was pushign up on your lungs. Daryl’s free hand drifted toward the left breast of his vest beneath his poncho and landed over the Polaroid of the two of you, stitched in safely there. His hand squeezed yours again and then he rolled the plastic bag closed and stuck it into his pack. There was another moment of silence and then he glanced over at you. “Back there. When ya helped Negan—”

You sighed and nodded. “I know. I—Look, I know what he did. He took a father away from his wife and child. He tortured you and who knows how many other people in one way or another… He’s got blood on his hands that will never completely wash off. But in moments like that—” you searched for the right words, hesitating. “I—I can’t just stand by and not help someone who is supposedly on our side now. Even if it is Negan.”

Daryl nodded, chewing on his bottom lip thoughtfully. “Okay. Yer—yer a better person than I am,” he drawled, ducking his eyes. His hair fell into his face. “Ya always have been.”

“That’s not true.”

Just then, before you could say anything further, Dog took off in response to unexpected echoing yells and raced to a large drain culvert and jumped inside, paying no attention to Daryl’s shouts.

“Fuck!” Daryl growled, peering inside. His flashlight hardly seemed to penetrate the gloom. He shot an anxious look back at you and then closed his eyes for a long moment when you only nodded stoically. When he opened them again, he climbed in and you slipped inside after him.

The dark was disorienting and the tunnel walls seemed to shrink in around you as you crawled and hunched your way through. The growls and moaning of walkers echoed in the network of metal and stone, bouncing off walls and ricocheting in ways that made it impossible to tell which direction they were coming from. Your knees were scraped and aching from the cobbled stone and metal. Your hands were cold from the moisture pooling in the low, stagnant spots. You could only imagine what the two of you would look like when you emerged at the other end… if you emerged.

Right when you thought you were almost out, there was a sudden growl from an offshoot of the culvert beside you. You looked back just in time to see a gnarled hand shoot out and grip your boot. Some noise of surprise must have escaped you because Daryl was yelling your name. “Y/N! No!”

Your hand fumbled with your sheath and landed on the handle of your knife. You struggled to maneuver in the tight space but after what seemed both entirely too long and lightning speed, you freed yourself from the walker’s grip and lunged with your blade, finding your mark in the skull.

“Are you okay?” Daryl asked desperately, laying on his back, half sitting to look at you. You nodded, gasping in hurried breaths.

There was no time to recover as heavy iron behind him clanged where the exit had just been. More walkers had bumped into the grate, slamming it closed, and they now reached their bony arms through, grappling at the air. “Stay here!” he said gruffly.

“Daryl—!” but he had already pushed himself into the grate, hurling the walkers back as it opened and sending him tumbling down to the floor. You army crawled as fast as you could to the edge of the culvert, gripping his crossbow where he’d left it. But he quickly righted himself and put down the two dead with a few swings of his mace. He glanced up and down the tunnel he’d emerged into before rushing back to take his crossbow onto his shoulder again and to help you out onto your feet. “Are ya good?” he asked you again, studying your face. He couldn’t see any sign of injury. You were both damp from the heavy moisture in the air. Your hair was sticking to your cheeks and your neck. Your eyes were a little wide. He would have clasped your face if his hands weren’t absolutely filthy.

You nodded. “I’m good. Are you?”

“Fine,” he drawled, turning to look into the blackness ahead. Dog’s bark was echoing in the distance. “I dunno what the hell has gotten into him…”

“Let’s go find out,” you said, starting forward again. Daryl walked beside you, clearing on edge. His eyes scanned behind and in front alternately, and then he put out an arm to stop you. His eyes narrowed as he looked ahead toward a dark stain on the ground. He adjusted his grip on his crossbow and stepped protectively ahead of you, shining his light toward the pool that glistened ominously.

You followed just behind him and finally were able to see that it was fresh blood, and not blood from a walker… It was a deep, violent red. Your stomach twisted. “Daryl…”

Suddenly a figure materialized in the dark, staggering toward you. Daryl nearly let a bolt fly, but then he registered that it was Roy right as your breath left your lungs in a puff. He collapsed. The blood was his. Behind him trailed walkers, and in a flash, Dog streaked out of nowhere and took one down, fighting with it ferociously until Daryl could get a shot and it went still.

You pulled out your knife again and rushed one of the others, plunging the blade into its head. Beside you, Daryl dropped his bow and pulled his twin knives from their sheaths in a purposeful movement and he dropped the remaining walker with almost ease.

“Roy!” you said, spinning and hurrying to where he had collapsed. He was covered in blood. “Shit… Shit!” You fumbled with your pack, digging into the front pocket for the med kit. Daryl knelt down beside you and the two of you exchanged a grave look.

Roy let out a wry laugh and coughed up blood onto the concrete. “I can see from your faces that this’ll probably be the last mistake I ever make. Here,” he pulled out his gun and a hand grenade and held them out to Daryl. “Don’t waste any supplies on me. Just—tell my kids I didn’t die a coward.”

You shut your eyes and hung your head. Kids. The man had kids... he was scared and he made a mistake. “Hey. I’m not giving up on you. Come on. Let me patch you up as best I can,” you said.

“Where’s the ammo bag?” Daryl pressed Roy.

“I lost it. And I lost Gage… Please—just—make it quick.” He coughed thickly again.

Daryl’s jaw tightened. “Nah. Ya hang here ‘til we figure this shit out, alright? We’ll come back for ya. Just hang on.”

“We have to get back to the others,” you said, already shouldering your bag again when Daryl was back beside you, greeting Dog happily and scolding him at the same time. “Daryl, he said there are walkers everywhere. What if they’re trapped back there on the subway car still?”

“Yeah… c’mon…”

You were barely there in time. The rest of your group was trapped. On one end, a barricaded door, and on the other a herd of walkers. There were walkers ahead of you too, between you and the barricade, but less than were bearing down on your friends on the other side. You, Daryl, and Dog crept up from behind. You fingered your bowstring, itching to start, an arrow nocked. Daryl loosened his knives and then raised the pistol. You gave him a slow nod to tell him you were ready, and he aimed and pulled the trigger. An arrow whizzed past him and buried itself deeply into the head of the next walker, still covered in the spray of the one whose head had just exploded with Daryl’s bullet. You moved forward swiftly, like a force to be reckoned with, like the storm above, clearing the path to the others. When Daryl ran out of bullets, his knives sang.

He tugged the seat blocking the door out of the way and between him and Negan, they managed to force it open. Your found family poured through. As a final parting, Daryl shoved the hand grenade into the mouth of an advancing walker and kicked it back into the next car, slamming the compartment door closed again. He dove down over you where you were huddled behind a seat, shielding you with his body, as it exploded and vaporized the herd in the next car into nothing more than a sickening spray of gore.

You all slowly rose, glancing around, relieved that you’d managed the narrow escape. Maggie gave you both grateful looks and let out a long exhale. “Thank you. You make a pretty good team,” she said, the ghost of a smile on her lips.

“Wouldn’t mind keepin’ you two around,” Alden joked. Everyone’s hearts lifted, just a little.

Luckily, there were no more surprises during the rest of your underground trip, and you emerged from the station to find that the storm had broken and the sky was clear. An infinite number of stars shown overhead. You found yourself staring, drawing in deep lungfuls of life-giving cool, after-rain air. Daryl was watching you staring. He could see the stars reflected in your eyes—or wait—no. Maybe that was just you shining. Even covered in filth and splattered with walker blood, nothing seemed to dim you.

His hand went to his pocket and he pulled out the 100-dollar bill again, looking at the dark writing and thinking of those two smiling kids in that picture, them huddled around the radio—waiting and hoping. He wondered if they’d made it out, if they’d ever found anywhere safe again. You sank down next to him, close enough that your shoulder and leg were against his. Dog came and sat between your knees and you bent to scratch his chest and kiss the top of his head. Daryl tucked the bill inside his glove and you studied his expression. It was thoughtful and sad. You wished you were alone so you could kiss him right then… Instead, you reached over and rested your hand briefly on the bare skin of his forearm. Your pointer finger swept back and forth, and Daryl glanced over at you again and felt some flickering of warmth start between his lungs again.

_ _ _ _ _ _

You were nearly to the hidden supply depot to restock and rest up, when up ahead, something horrific, still encased in deep shadow, loomed. Your inhale was a sharp hiss of breath through your teeth and your hand went reflexively to the handle of your knife. “Daryl…”

A few more steps and it was clear to everyone. Corpses. Rows of corpses, strung up and hanging by their feet. There was one row on each side of the road, lining it like poplar trees on some kind of perverse boulevard. You further loosened your knife in its sheath. “It’s them,” you said. Your voice was steely but Daryl thought he could hear a slight shake in it. “This is them.”

Daryl swung his crossbow off his shoulder and readied it in his hands, squinting ahead into the dark.

Your hand landed on his arm. It felt surprisingly cold and heavy—unlike your usual touch. Or was his perception of you being tainted by the horror show he was staring at? When you spoke again, your voice was more urgent. “We need to get to—” Cover. You’d been about to say “cover.” Too late.

Chaos. Nightmarish, abrupt chaos. Roy dropped to the ground dead with an arrow in his face. Cole’s hand was sliced clean off with a sharp knife that also embedded in his leg. Your group scattered for the trees like frightened rabbits in front of a fox.

“Y/N?!” Daryl whirled, searching for you, but you seemed to have vanished. Yells punctuated the darkness. A draft of air passed his head and he ducked, aware that a knife had flown right past him. He crouched and squinted into the darkness, his heart pounding—was it pounding? Or had it stopped altogether? “Y/N!” he yelled, unable to hear his own voice over the rush of blood in his ears. And just like that—he realized he was seemingly alone, with only Dog nearby. The silence was close, pressing closer, and ominous.

“Okay… okay…” he tried to slow down his racing mind and focus. Where were you? You’d been right beside him when Roy was hit—and then—fuck! It was all too chaotic! He was disoriented in the trees, in the darkness. He felt it all over again—the way your hand and then your fingertips had slipped away… or were pulled? Were you pulled away from him? He shook his head as if that would do fuck all to clear his thinking up. “Focus. Fuckin’ focus,” he muttered to himself, rising from where he was crouching and scanning the ground nearby, hardly daring to step away from the tree he’d been sheltering behind. But he needed to find a trace of you; a track, a scuffmark, a piece of gear, even one of your arrows, or—

He felt a painful jolt rip through him as his eyes landed on a dark splotch in the dirt. He stopped cold. All warmth seemed to leave his veins. He gripped his crossbow with white knuckles. He moved closer and stared at it, bending down on one knee. There was Roy, dead on the ground. Here—he touched a scrape in the dirt—he’d been here… and you. You were just beside him, on the side where that stain glared back at him, looking almost deep purple in the dark and the dust.

As much as he wanted to, he didn’t dare call out for you again, even though every fiber of his being was revolting against his silence. You couldn’t have gone far yet. It’d been only seconds—right? It wasn’t even minutes yet… You had to be nearby still, especially if you were injured. But if he called out, gave away his position—no. He couldn’t get to you, couldn’t help you if he was dead. He stayed silent and it was killing him. It was like Atlanta all over again. You’d been together. And then you were suddenly, cruelly rended apart. He felt your touch slip from him and he willed it not to be the last time he felt your hand on his arm, your skin on his.

Maybe it wasn’t yours. Maybe it wasn’t your blood. Maybe you’d gotten one of them with your knife. He whistled for Dog and pointed to the blood spot. “C’mon. C’mon, boy. We gotta find her. Track. C’mon!��

A sudden rustling in some brush nearby and Daryl rocketed to his feet. A dark clad figure disappeared into the deeper shadow of the woods. “Dog!” He whistled again and signaled for Dog to follow, and they took off at a desperate speed. If you were nearby and injured, he wasn’t going to let this asshole be the one to find you.

_ _ _ _ _ _

You pressed your back hard into the bark of the tree behind you. The bite of the ridges and edges barely distracted from the pain as you pressed the sterile gauze into the wound on your side with two fingers. You tasted blood in your mouth from biting down on your cheek in an attempt to stifle any noise that might escape you. Blinding white hot pain and then a deeper streak of ruby red exploded behind your eyes.

Daryl. Where was Daryl? You could still practically feel his arm beneath your hand. Roy had dropped, you’d scattered. He’d been right beside you… and then suddenly The Reapers were on you. You’d felt the icy cold slash of a knife in your side and then it was burning with heat. You’d thrown yourself farther into the trees, moving from the deepest shadow to the deepest shadow.

Behind you, a stick cracked in the deathly quiet and you stopped breathing. Your eyes flew wide open again. Your heart pounded. Your lungs were tight. You turned, angling your ear toward the sound. Someone was walking toward you. It sounded a little jolting, as if they were limping. You hastily pressed a gauze pad down over the packed wound in your side and tugged your shirt down again. It clung to your skin, soaked and sticky with blood. You gulped and gripped the handle of your knife tightly, holding it up near your chest, ready to use it, pressing yourself back against the tree.

The soft steps approached and then hesitated off to your left and you shut your eyes for a brief moment before deciding you’d better be the one to strike first. You gritted your teeth against the pain and leapt to your feet, throwing yourself around the tree trunk at the figure, your blade raised.

But it struck metal and ricocheted off. You nearly doubled over from the excruciating sensations rippling through you from your side. Then, you were shocked when the figure was supporting you, gripping your forearms. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Shit, if it weren’t for my handiness with a goddamn crowbar, you would have just skewered me,” he exclaimed, helping you straighten up.

“Negan,” you said through your gritted teeth, clutching a hand to your side again.

“Yeah, unfortunately it’s just me,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. His eyes went to the dark stains down the side of your clothes. You noticed his furrowed brow.

“It’s nothing,” you said, doing your best to stand up tall and straight again.

“Yeah, well, that nothing happens to look suspiciously like a pretty fucking serious injury,” he countered. “Or you slipped and fell in somebody’s bucket o’ blood. I wouldn't put anything past these freaks...”

You glared at him. “It’s not life-threatening, is what I meant.”

“Oh, so you don’t need blood. Okay. Got it,” he said sarcastically. “That’s a new one for me.”

You squeezed your eyes shut against another jolt of that white hot and violent red pain bursting behind your eyes. “I meant—look, conveniently I was shot once in almost the exact same place, okay? I’ll be fine. There are no major vessels there and no vital organs,” you snapped back.

“Interesting,” Negan nodded. “I’m sure that’s a story I want to hear but now probably isn’t the time.” He gripped your upper arm again as you wavered a little on your feet. “Also, it should be noted that I consider all my organs to be rather fucking vital. Just so we’re clear on that.” You were too distracted by another wave of pain to scoff anything back. “Come on. We’ve gotta get the fucking hell out of here before these psychos find us.”

It was then that you noticed the binding around his leg. You’d be willing to bet no one had gotten away completely unscathed… if they’d gotten away at all. “Wait. The others—did you see what happened to them?” you asked.

His eyebrows lifted. “Roy’s definitely dead. I can tell you that much. That karma sure kicks in fast, doesn’t it? Come on.”

“Wait! No—did you see—did—”

Negan suddenly sighed and his shoulders seemed to sag at the desperate look on your face. He shook his head. “I didn’t see Daryl,” he said, his tone sincere. “But if I’ve learned anything about him over the years—it’s that he, out of everyone, will be A-fuckin’ okay.”

You swallowed at a sudden constriction in your throat. “Fuck,” you muttered, pressing your hand down again over your side. “You’re right. We have to get the fuck out of here, and fast. Can you do fast?” you asked him.

He cocked his head at you. “Can you?”

“I said I’ll be fine. Now, where the fuck do we go?”

“Anywhere but here,” Negan said. He started off away into the trees, a limp in his walk, and you followed after him, slightly hunched, still checking over your shoulder with a knife in one hand.

_ _ _ _ _ _

It was nearly light out by the time you came on a dilapidated old house. But there was a solid door and most of the windows were boarded up and Negan didn’t like the gray tinge to your complexion or the cold sweat beading up on your face or neck. His leg also felt as if he was walking around with a giant splinter in the muscle. “I think this is as good as it gets. We better take a rest in here for a while and regroup. We’ve put a good amount of distance between us and that Halloween town.”

You shot him a look, and although you were exhausted and pale, it was still sharp. “Halloween town?” you repeated.

“Yeah, the hanging human piñatas, psychos in masks…” he said, limping up to the door and tapping on it with his crowbar. He paused listening for growls but it was silent, so he wedged the iron edge of the crowbar into the seam and pried. The wood sprung open with a crack.

“Could you not make fucking jokes? We have no idea how many of our people even made it,” you spat at him. You dragged yourself past him and into the house.

“I didn’t say it was a joke,” he countered, stepping in after you and pulling the door shut.

You sunk down against the wall, sliding down against your back, your eyes closed. “Jesus, do you ever shut the fuck up?” you muttered, your eyes closing.

Negan laughed. “No, not really.” He paused, taking in your slumped posture against the wall and the rusty staining on your hand that was pressed over your side. He turned and shut the door again and barricaded it with a heavy old oak desk. Your eyes opened again at the scraping sound and he glanced over at you once he’d finished. He twirled his crowbar in his hands and you could tell he had something on his mind.

You grabbed your pack and started digging in the main pocket again for your canteen. “What?” you prompted him.

“I didn’t really get a chance to thank you for the help in the tunnel—with that fucking behemoth of a walker. Wasn’t about to try and say thanks with the peanut gallery standing around,” he said. "SO, uhh—" he rubbed a hand over his short hair. "Thanks."

You sighed and shook your head. “Yeah, don’t mention it…” You unscrewed the cap of your water and took a long drink. You nodded at him. “Your leg. How bad is it? I’ve got a few supplies if you need to patch it up.”

His hand strayed over the scrap of fabric binding the wound. “It’s okay. I mean, it hurts like hell but—how did you put it? Non-life threatening. What about you?”

You replaced your canteen and rested your head back against the wall. “I’ll have to stitch it. But it’s fine.”

“I can help you with that. I’ve done a few—”

“Hell no,” you interrupted him. “I’ll do it myself.”

He let out a dry laugh. “What, worried that Daryl will find out I’ve had my hands on you?” You scowled up at him. “I won’t tell if you don’t.” He flashed you a smile but your face stayed stoic. “Ah, come on. I’m kidding. That’s the farthest thing from my mind right now. …well maybe not the farthest but—”

“Negan, shut the fuck up! Jesus Christ…” You rubbed a hand over the clamminess on your forehead.

He laughed again and nodded. “Sorry. It’s a bit of a nervous habit if I’m being completely honest.” He sank down on a stiff-backed wooden chair in the corner, his leg stretched out and his hazel eyes fixed on you across the room. “I know I’m not your idea of a perfect traveling companion, but I’m on your team here. And to get ourselves out of this shitstorm we’re going to have to work together.”

You sighed again and nodded. “Yeah. I know.”

He seemed satisfied with that response and stood up, crossing the space to you and bending down. “Now, about those med supplies…”

_ _ _ _ _ _

That Reaper hadn’t found you, hadn’t gotten to you. But neither had Daryl. And now Dog was in the wind. Daryl had gutted up and found Dog’s trail. His hope was that Dog would lead him to you… or at least someone. But he couldn’t stop thinking about that spot of blood back by the road. He wondered where you were hurt, how badly… What if you were—No. No, that wasn’t possible. That wasn’t going to happen now. Not like this, after fucking finding you again after all these years, after you’d relit the spark in him that had all but gone out. You were going to be fine, and he’d find you. He’d find Dog, and then he’d find you.

In the distance; Dog barking. Daryl took off toward the sound.

But Dog wasn’t alone. One of them. A Reaper.

“Let him go,” Daryl said. His voice was gruff but also soft and tired. There was still danger underneath it however. The Reaper didn’t move. Dog sat calmly beside the figure. Daryl withdrew one of his knives. “I said let him go.”

The figured raised a hand and pulled off their mask and a fabric covering beneath. Daryl felt like someone had kicked him in the gut. His racing heart sunk into the pit of his stomach and stayed there, heavy like a river rock.

Leah. The Reaper was Leah.

Next thing he knew, he was at the end of the barrel of her shotgun again. And then it wasn’t just her. He was surrounded.

A burlap bag thrown over his head. Water poured over his face. And Leah… like a shell. Seemingly unmoved. Unfeeling. Indifferent. Cold. Her words rang in his head. “These people are my family. I came home.”

He was disoriented with the racing of his mind. How could she participate in this fucked up horror show? What the fuck kind of person was she really? Maybe he'd never known her at all... Clearly he hadn't. And yet he needed to convince her he wasn’t a threat, that he didn’t know fuck all about “those people on the road.” He needed to convince her that he still cared about her the way he had. On some level, he did still care about her... maybe that was stupid. It probably was. But this? These people? Killing anyone they saw for no fucking reason? Stringing up dead people on the roadside? This was insanity. This was almost inhuman.

And all the while, you flashed in his mind's eye. Y/N. Y/N. Y/N.

When they dragged him to a chain link cell, more like a cage, he saw the shape of you in the sheets beside him in his mind’s eye. When they pulled him out to question him endlessly, he heard your voice saying his name, heard your laugh. As he sat alone on the cold cement floor, he could imagine the feel of you under his hands, the shape of you, the taste of your lips, the smell of your skin and scent of your hair. As the water drowned him, pressing the burlap over his nose and mouth, he saw the sun shining off your hair as you grabbed DJ into a hug. DJ. Now he saw DJ too. His son.

When Leah came and talked softly to him in his cell, he forced himself to say things he didn’t mean, a nauseous churning in his stomach. His heart felt hollow as he tried to sound convincing. When the time was right, he gave her something. That’s when it started.

The fire came next.

Pope came after.

And Daryl was embedded deep, with only you and the rest of his family on his mind, even while he tried his goddamn best to make Leah believe that she was the only thing in this world he cared about besides Dog. It felt like willingly drinking poison.

A/N: I fucking loooove writing redeemed!Negan and was so stoked to have him and Y/N team up in this fic. He's just so damn fun to write, and something about the dynamic of him taking care of Daryl's love is achingly good and delicious. Hope you enjoyed so far! Can't wait to get you all the next update!

[alwaysaareiadew]

Me when BBH and Missa:

[smuttyworks]

Before the world ended - Brandon Carver x reader

Reposting from my Ao3! gunna be adding my other ones here as well <3 this is my first Carver fic I did and I still absolutely love it, but im thinking of making a NSFW version with the same story just add some much needed SHMUTTTTTTT.

What do you think?

-

Your eyes widened in shock seeing the man that they dragged in past the main gate. The breath almost completely escaped your lungs, but your caught yourself before Carver could notice as he walked up to you, his masking hanging from his hips off his belt. 

“Are you okay?” you questioned, noticing the limp in his step. 

His eyes traveled the features of your face, clearly noticing something was off. “Fucker nicked me.” Carver said, looping his finger in the sliced material of his black combat pants, and showing me the blood beneath. 

“Let me clean you up.” You gave him a light smile, looping your small arm into his and leading him into the building. Your mind wandered as you thought of the man, the man you spent years with before the world ended, the person you loved more than anything at one point in time. The man you lost in this hopeless world, not ever thinking you’d see him again. He was dead, you thought.

Carver opened the door of the infirmary and you led him to the chair that was in front of the window. “Sit down.” You hushed, hoping the cut wasn’t deep.

You switched the light on and motioned him to pull his pants down, and with an eye roll he slid his dark, dirty, combat pants down his legs. “It’s not that bad.” He sighed, leaning back against the chair, with his head against the windowsill, he looked exhausted.

You grabbed the first aid kit and kneeled on your knees in front of him as you started to clean his wound. You were with Carver, he was the best thing that happened to you in the new world, he saved you from death, and you two fell in love all too easily. Carver was your protector, he always put you first, you knew it would be you and him until the end…

Despite your past coming in and reminding you of how life use to be, you knew it would only ever be Carver, no matter what your past life use to be, and with who.

“Babe?” you asked softly. 

His eyes fluttered open and looked down at you, with a much softer stare than earlier. He brought his hand up and lightly grazed your cheek. “Hi baby.” He smiled lightly.

“I-I need to tell you something,” you swallowed. His eyes glanced from yours to you lips, and then tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before giving me his full attention. “That man, the one you guys found and brought in…” Carver’s eyes narrowed slightly, causing the nerves to rise. “I knew him, before all of this… he’s m ex f-fiancé.” you sighed, not having to think of that time in yout life for what seemed like forever.

“What?” his eyebrows tightened together, showing his confusion, and frustration. “Explain”

You took a deep breath, finally ready to tell Carver about your past. “The day the world was really struck with all this, the very beginning when things got really bad, him and I were trying to get out of the city… I got pulled away by a violet group of rioters, and I never saw him again, I knew that he either wasn’t searching for me, or didn’t search for long, so after a few months I gave up, I found a group, lost them…” you tried to catch your breath as the anxiety bagan to rise. “And then you found me…” You gave him a small smile, the anxiety disappearing as his soft eyes looked down into yours.

“I wouldn’t ever be able to stop looking if I lost you.” He whispered, bringing his rough hand up once again and pressing his palm to your cheek. Your eyes closed in bliss as you took in his soft touch, loving the fact that yourself only got to see this side of Carver.

“I know.” You grinned, slipping off the floor and straddling his lap. “You saved me Brandon, you’re the only one I will ever need.” You breathed, knowing everything youd ever need in this life was right in front of you. And judging by the loving look in his eyes, you knew he was thinking the same thing.

[the--grin--reaper]

Okay but Eithan said that Lindon exceeded even his expectations, in Soulsmith. This man is the literal Reaper of Worlds, prodigy extraordinaire, milennia old expert who wants to raise people that can "reach the end of the sacred arts with him". And despite his misgivings initially, Lindon actually managed to impress him.

[adoriels-tears-if]

So a thought came into my mind.

If Tobias is the reason MC is in danger right now. Like, in his eagerness to bring Arthur over to the house, he unintentionally led that kidnapper right to MC without knowing it.

No, Tobias didn't bring the Reapers to the region. They were already scouring the area when he arrived and Tobias had just warned Elianna about the possibility of them spotting Mc's magic signature.

[whyeverr]

In this game, the person sitting next to you may smile and smile — and be a villain. There are Reapers amongst you. Do you think you know who they are?

[theoutcastrogue]

The Decemberists - The Reapers

Early in the evening, when the working is through And the field's all in furrows, and there ain't much to do Me and my lady, all a-riding did go As we wait for the reapers to mow

You lay on the hayrake and me on the plow Foreman's in the granary, a-wiping his brow Gonna break an ankle just a-working this row As we wait for the reapers to mow As we wait for the reapers to mow

Over the next valley, where the land is all wild And the hillside's all berries and thornweed for miles Gonna plow a pasture where no one will go And I'll wait for the reapers to mow

I heard of a mansion on top of a hill Where a lordling lives splendid, just eating his fill Dressed in white linen, his servants in tow Still he waits for the reapers to mow Still he waits for the reapers to mow

Come and go with me to a land overseas Where the people sit idle and do as they please But one thing you can't run from, wherever you go Is that wait for the reapers to mow

I heard of a beggar, not a sou to his name Born in a brothel to the madame's disdain Put him in the gutter or in a château He'll still wait for the reaper to mow He's gotta wait for the reaper to mow

I dreamed of a trial 'tween the moon and the sun Where the stars were the jury and the heavens the judge Awarded to the plaintiff, the defendant brought low She must wait for the reapers to mow

Tomorrow and tomorrow, when the working is done And the fields are all fallow and the harrow is run Come and lie with me in the fresh fallen snow And we'll wait for the reapers to mow And we'll wait for the reapers to mow

[adder24]

Who holds the balance?

Summary: Daniel is intrigued about those that rule the after life and more importantly who is in charge of the balance between life and death.

Authors note: Just a gif story on how Our boy Loki could be the man that keeps the balance of life and death, It's Feasible. Tagging those who enjoy my silly gif stories.

@untilthe12ofnever @the-boneyard-rider @profwonderbearthementalista @reeselivesforeverinmyheart @loops911 @nikki-rook @hellostickerdoodle @nuggsmum @moviesaremylife @happiness-in-the-dark @traveler-of-realms @izhunny @plinkitee @bonnie131313

Feel free to reblog. Story under the cut

Ever since Daniel had became an honorary family member to the reapers, he's found himself asking more questions about the world ruled by gods and demons, then he ever had. His knowledge was what came from his family and the hunters, so not always completely accurate, especially when it came down to what they knew about the reapers and how the hunters felt they couldn't be trusted.

It was a fact that got under Adder's skin, a lot but he soon educated Daniel with the facts, all except one.

"So who holds the balance?" Daniel asked one evening while Duke was busy trying to slaughter Rusty after another prank that wound him up.

"Well at the moment it seems to be Duke, he's got Rusty pinned and Rusty is going to try and charm his way out" Adder replied as he watched the squabbling duo like a father watching squabbling siblings.

"No not between those two....I mean the balance, you know, between life and death" Daniel replied as he grabbed the popcorn that was sitting on the coffee table, made from old engine parts. "Heaven is ruled by gods and Angels, Hell is ruled by Satan and Demons, so it only makes sense that the balance is held by an entity of some sort"

"Aaah that! Well you'd be right there is an entity holding the balance together, another god in fact. He gave up everything to make sure that the circle of life continued as it should. I like to think of the balance as being like Yggdrasil, the tree of life. The tree grows, produces fruit, the fruit falls, rots and gives nourishment to the ground so that it can nourish Yggdrasil and the seeds within the fruit can grow. Boom circle of life" Adder explained before noticing Duke reach for a wrench "DUKE. NO!"

"THIS PRICK NEEDS A LABOTAMY AND I CAN DO IT FOR FREE!" Duke screamed.

"Put. it.down!" Adder growled, watching Duke toss the wrench aside in disappointment "You know the rules! Orson will deal with him"

"Oh yeah! Orson gonna get out the broom for you sonny!" Duke replied happily as Rusty's once cheeky look fell from his face.

"Uh-Oh" Rusty whimpered

Adder rolled his eyes. It never ceased to amaze him how Duke and Rusty always found something to squabble over. Every day. Non-stop.

"You ever met them? You know the god that holds the balance, " Daniel asked as Rusty was introduced to his fate by a rather disgruntled Orson.

"Once. I was in limbo and I was in a bad place. I went looking for a fight with our enemies and because I wasn't with it, I got over powered, knocked out and slung into the Hudson. Should have died but for some reason I ended up there, right in front of Yggdrasil. Beautiful looking tree" Adder replied as he sat down on the couch, pausing for thought. "The god resides in Yggdrasil on a throne holding it altogether, keeping watch and making sure everything is as it should be"

Daniel raised his eyebrows impressed, knowing that only a god could keep something as delicate as the balance of life and death, balanced. Yet it still didn't answer the question on Daniel's lips.

"Yeah but what did he look like? Was he cool looking? Was he scary?! Come on feed me knowledge that I can use to seduce the ladies with" Daniel pleaded.

Adder just laughed, amused by the fact Daniel was using his knowledge to seduce the single huntresses amoung the Hunters ranks.

"How's that working out for you?" Adder chuckled

"Not so good" Daniel muttered

"Well I'll tell you if you stop using our history as a ridiculous, chat up method." Adder replied.

"Come on man women like stuff like that...Especially at Halloween when all the scary stories-"

"Daniel" Adder interrupted firmly, hating the fact Daniel possibly tells scary stories about them, even after the lecture he gave about how it is a little offensive to Reapers.

"Fine. No more seducing women with Reaper history" Daniel grumbled.

"Good man. Now, the god in Yggdrasil, he wore a crown with long horns, like the devil, raven black hair, green eyes, a tongue of silver and green robes" Adder replied.

"Man likes green...is he like a nature god?" Daniel asked

"Not really....but he is wise. When he sensed me being there, the branches parted, there was this weird, comforting green glow around him. He looked at me and told me that we, the reapers, are the groundkeepers, without the groundkeepers the tree can't flourish and can become sick which can alter the balance. He made me realise my importance and the next thing I knew, I woke up and Orson, who was sopping wet, was dragging my ass out of the Hudson and cussing my stubbornness" Adder explained

"So does he have a name?" Daniel asked

"Oh now that would be telling Daniel, can't be telling a mere mortal like you the name of the god holding the balance together. But what I will say....is he is a little mischievous"

[giltine13]

It took me almost 5 years, but I have finally completed the set I started way back in 2019 December. My very first ever completed art set with all my main characters too!! not the first one I attempted either, but the first I saw through and I am oh so very happy!

Drawing the last half of these was such pain, since when I did the first two, I was actually experimenting with a few things, mostly the line art, having a textured brush and setting it to the shade layer mode. Funny thing is, this does not work very well with my thick line art style sooo it made the flats very tedious to do. I am very happy to be finally free of that.

Aside of the lineart, the other parameters I had set for these was that both hands had to be shown, which ahaha was so much pain posing wise cause I didn't want any of them to be repeats, my sonas being the only exception since it made sense for them to mirror each other; have the circle/bg and the lighting be their signature colour; and lastly, show off their personality (or the one they present to others) as best as I can, which was also very challenging but I think I did an okay job there.

Not gonna lie I am over the moon to have these done aaaah, they took so long!! Even tho drawing one really doesn't eat that much time, I could've def done the whole thing in three weeks tops if I wanted. And yet... 5 years man... Amazingly, I think I'm only really unhappy with one of them, maybe like 4 total that I'm not fully satisfied and that's quite surprising to realize.

Though looking at these also hurts cause man, it feels like.. very real visual proof that in all those years I haven't gotten better at art.. and like I know in some ways I have but.. it sure looks that I haven't made any progress at all in terms of head anatomy and hands and that's just a big ouch to me.

Anyway, for anyone curious, here's the timeline of these:

- Takara and Tairan in 2019 December; - Aren and Sindri in 2020 June; - Dajete in 2021 June and Zonran in November and then Boumobaku in December; - Kaito in 2022 June; - Besh and Hal in 2024 April and Y in 2024 July.

(I can't believe I didn't do a single one in 2023 rip...)

[smuttyworks]

Do you feel the same? (Part 1) - Brandon Carver x Reader

Carver and Reader have been in a long term friends with benefits arrangement and everything seems perfect to reader, but unknowingly Brandon Carver has had feelings for her since the beginning, but Reader is closed off and never wants to feel vulnerable due to all the loss she has felt. Can they find a middle ground or will everything crumble to pieces?

Warnings- Smut, Fwb, sex lol, im bad at warnings and that's a label on its own, unprotected sex, slight angst

-

Carver’s eyes were locked on you as you fiddled with the small heart necklace you wore, one that belonged to your best friend some time ago. You had no idea about Carver’s constant lingering eyes, not a hint that this wasn’t something new.

You distracted yourself from everything you felt all the time, you had never let your walls down since the day your best friend had passed away in your arms. She was so young, she handled this world like no other. You had always been scared of this world, fear of the walkers and even more towards the evil people that also walked this earth.

But she never was, she was smart and took care of the both of you… always. It was a case of bad luck when she died, a cruel joke almost. But you didn’t like to think of it much, instead you changed, and in your eyes for the better.

The both of you had felt a lot of loss since the world fell, many people you cared about lost their lives and when she died, you didn’t want to feel it anymore. You stopped letting people in since there was a high chance they wouldn’t make it anyways, so the tears stopped rolling, and the feelings stayed away.

But Carver took a real liking to you, not that you had any idea of that since he knew how you were, so the little ordeal you two had was good enough for him until he could get you to open up, if he could.

“You alright?” he asked from across the dull empty cabin. You two had gone on a run to find out if there was anything in a small store Pope had set his eyes on. It was about a two-day trip so Carver and you volunteered to go looking, and were currently trying to get some rest.

You gave him a small nod, “I’m fine.” Your eyes met his after a few seconds of silence and gave him a little smile, “Happy we have some time alone finally.” You giggled, biting your lip lightly. You and Carver were what is called friends with benefits and in your eyes it worked out good for the both of you, but in Carvers eyes he wanted more, but you didn’t know that.

He chuckled and leaned back against the wall, “Come.” You lifted yourself from your corner of the cabin and crawled over to where he was, the lust in his eyes starting to drive you wild. You liked that Carver was happy with what you guys were, you didn’t want anything that could leave you vulnerable, you wanted simple, easy. 

You crawled into his lap and started kissing his neck while running your hand up his strong, hard chest underneath his shirt. He groaned and gripped your ass with his one hand and holding your thigh tightly with the other, showing his need for your body just as much as you needed his.

With your free hand you slipped under his pants and started running his rock-hard length over his briefs, enjoying the small groans and breathy moans coming from his mouth. “Did you miss this?” you giggled against his skin.

The two of you hadn’t had a moment to unravel like this in weeks, and you had started getting agitated with the lack of release until you both were able to volunteer for this run, and both of you were so excited to say the least. You both tried to keep your relationship on the down low so it didn’t effect anything in your life.

“Fuck… you have no idea.” And you really didn’t have any idea how much he missed it, and if it was up to him, he would be by your side all the time, not caring who knew about the two of you. But Carver knew if he pushed you too far or said the wrong words about how he felt about you that you would end things all together, and he’d lose these little moments he had with you, and he wasn’t ready for that.

His hands roamed up and quickly removed your black long sleeve as well as your sports bra next until you were bare from the waist up in his lap, and he loved your body. His mouth connected with the skin of your chest and he left soft kisses all over until his lips met your hard nipples, taking the sensitive bud in his mouth and swirling his tongue around causing moans to escape your lips.

Your fingers tangled in his long hair as you leaned your chin on the top of his head, taking in all the amazing feelings he caused, his other hand palming your breast softly and lightly playing with your other nipple.

The lack of touch the past few weeks seemed to make you more sensitive, making his movements very enjoyable. “Carver,” you breathed, “I need you, right now.” You looked down at him and his eyes met yours, and you saw an emotion you couldn’t pin.

But he quickly flipped you over and laid you on his jacket and pulled your black cargo pants from your body, exposing your dripping core to him. “Fuck…” he moaned, running his finger over your slit and taking your arousal between his lips, something that drove you insane.

Your hands reached up and quickly pulled his dark grey cargo pants down along with his briefs, releasing his hard erection, his size getting you excited, especially since you hadn’t had him In so long. He looked hypnotized by your fully naked body before him, so you reached for him and pulled him down, connecting your lips together instantly.

Carver reached between your legs and positioned himself at your soaking entrance and roughly pushed himself fully inside you, the unexpected intrusion causing a load moan to escape, in which he covered your mouth to keep you quiet, which turned you on even more.

He roughly thrusted into you causing you to moan into his hand, and him to groan with every push, “F-fuck, (y/n)” he breathed, leaning his forehead on yours. The feeling of him entering you was ecstasy, it made you feral. You gripped his band and drug your nails down his back roughly, knowing just what he likes.

His other hand held your body closer to him by the small of your back. He was almost fully pulling himself out of you before roughly thrusting back inside, but you could tell by his movements he was getting close, but so were you. The time spent away clearly affected the both of you, making it hard to not cum fast.

He lifted you and sat you on his thighs as you both sat up, him entering you at a different angle making it even harder not to cum that second. You were face to face with him now and his hands both held you from your back. Carvers lips found yours as you both moaned into one another’s mouths, taking in all the amazing feelings you both made each other feel. 

“Cum on my dick.” He demanded, gripping your ass as he continuously pounded into you. That was enough to kickstart your strong orgasm, sending waves throughout your whole body, in which causing Carvers. He quickly rested you back on his jacket and after you rode out your extremely strong orgasm he pulled out and came all over your sweaty body.

“Holy fuck.” He chuckled, “That was…”

“Amazing.” You giggled, “Never not having sex for that long again.” You reached over and grabbed your extra shirt you packed and started cleaning your stomach off.

“I’m surprised no dead ones heard you.” He smirked, grabbing the shirt and cleaning himself off as well. You both dressed yourselves and you set up your sleeping bag on the other side of the cabin, “I’ve got first watch.” He said, leaning back against the wall.

You turned to him, “Are you sure? You had first last time.” You knew he was tired, but he wouldn’t say it to you.

“Yeah, I got it.” He gave you a small smile. You gave him a small ok before curling up in the thin sleeping bag and closing your eyes.

Carver watched you as you slept, wishing you had set your sleeping bag up closer to his but he knew that’s who you were, you liked your space until you wanted him, it was one or the other and over the year of you two just having sex, he couldn’t control himself anymore, he needed more, he wanted you fully, the good and the bad, he wanted all of you.

-

You woke up to it being completely light out, and the confusion hit you instantly. You were suppose to be up and on watch before the sun was up, did Carver fall asleep? You turned around to see him leaning against the wall while looking out the window. “How come you didn’t wake me?” you asked

He turned his head slightly towards you, “I know how tired you were, just wanted you to get as much sleep as you could.” He said before turning back to look out the window again.

“Oh…” you rubbed your eyes lightly, “Thank you, there’s still time for you to get some sleep, ill watch.” You yawned, standing up and walking beside him to see what was outside the window. You could see a small pond a few yards away neither of you saw yesterday since you had arrived while it was dark. “Pretty.” You smiled, taking in the sun reflecting off the water.

You could feel him look down at you. You turned your gaze to him and he did something unexpected, he kissed you. you were shocked, there was never kissing outside of sex, except one time when you both had just started this friends with benefits relationship and you let him know that it would only ever be sex, so it never happened again.

“Carv-“ you started but he stopped you by deepening the kiss further and gripping the back of your neck with his large hand to stop you from pulling away. “Car-“ you tried again, feeling uncertain with what was happening. He slipped his tongue past your lips and started exploring your mouth, to which you started to give into his advance.

His other hand slipped around your back and held you even closer. “I want more.” He breathed against your lips, “I need more…”

You stopped all your feelings from taking over, you vowed you’d never be vulnerable again, you wouldn’t grieve over anyone, you’d never cry for anyone, you would never be anyone’s… “No.” you sighed, “We aren’t-“ you swallowed, “We won’t be more, we can’t.” your eyes met his and you held all composure, you were going to survive, he wouldn’t, you couldn’t care for him because you were going to lose him, everyone dies but you, so you couldn’t have him close.

“(Y/n)…” he swallowed, “I know you, I know you more than you think… you closed off everyone but I have been watching you since I met you, I know you and I know you are scared you’ll lose me, but you won’t.” 

Your brows knitted as you tried to push him away, “You don’t know anything about me, Carver.” You spat, “clearly you cant be who I need you to be and that’s fine, but just means we are done.” 

He grimaced, clearly hurt by your words but you couldn’t let yourself care, you knew that would be the start of the end. He went to say something but stopped, and then his expression went blank. “We should head out.” He sighed, lifting his bag off the floor, “I’ll wait outside.”

You couldn’t believe what happened, how everything turned so bad so fast, but you composed yourself and started packing your things.

[the--grin--reaper]

Headcanon that I believe to be 100% true because it just is

Eithan definitely knew Yerin was pregnant before even Yerin knew

I mean, he knows everything. He'd know IMMEDIATELY that she has a baby coming, literally in the first stages of development.

He'd casually tell her "congratulations on the child" and she'd go "what." COMPLETELY floored.