#i lost interest when glenn died

[lionqueensarabi]

I have decided to finish watching The Walking Dead please pray for my sanity

[carlsangel]

HICKEYS

carl grimes x fem!reader

(carl accidentally leaves a mark.)

tags: make out sesh!!!! slight smut.

masterlist here!

You and Carl always planned to wait for somewhere safe for you guys to properly establish your relationship. You wanted somewhere where you could be normal, to have a normal relationship. While that took quite a while, you two having met just after the prison fell, Alexandria was perfect. It was the exact kind of normal you wanted.

Being that your family had left you at the start of it all, the group was your new family. You stayed with Glenn and Maggie, you bonded a bit while on the road, especially with Maggie. You helped her feel better after losing Beth. Also while on the road, you spent a lot of time with Carl. He found you interesting, you remained the person you were after the turn. You were a normal girl.

You weren’t normal in the wrong ways, you were actually quite far from it except the apocalypse didn’t affect your personality in any way. You made it seem like dealing with walkers is just another boring part of your day. You made survival seem easy. He was practically infatuated by you. He loved how you focused primarily on what made you happy, it gave him hope.

He was always so sweet to you on the road as well, he talked to you when you were bored and stayed silent when you were tired. When you guys stopped to eat or find water, he’d drag you off into the forest where he kissed you for the first time. He’d only be affectionate towards you while you were away from the group, you guys decided that you wouldn’t have a relationship yet, you didn’t need any questions about it until it was the right time.

In your guys’ situation it seemed sort of inappropriate. Always on the run, scavenging, looking for water. You were worried no one would see your relationship out. Even then, you weren’t sure you wanted one. Being on the road was dangerous, you’d lost people before and you didn’t want to feel a huge loss.

Anyway back at Alexandria you two were ecstatic. Your activities consisted of reading at Carl’s house, swimming in the pond, or harassing people. Your favorite to harass was Tara, especially when she was on watch. “You guys are so weird, why don’t you go away and make out somewhere?” She teases. Your laughter sort of dies down as you think about that. She notices and looks at you oddly. “I was kidding…unless you guys actually have a thing for each other. I’d rather not know actually.”

So you ended up leaving her alone and going on a walk instead. No one expected the two of you to be dating, they actually felt the exact opposite. It’s not that they never wanted you to be together, it was more that you guys had protested every single time you were asked about it. But you thought that if you were together, it’d be just wrong. So you continued to keep quiet, you didn’t want any trouble.

Later that day, you two had been hanging out in Carl’s room and things slightly got carried away, maybe because Tara had eluded to it but you both had thought about it for a while. It started with the two of you just sitting on his bed, sat across from each other and leaned forward to give small and short kisses, slight smiles in between each one. It eventually led to him leaning all the way over to you, making the kisses longer and deeper. Then, he jammed his tongue in your mouth. By that point you were laid back and he was over you, running his hand up and down your side all while his tongue massaged yours in your mouth.

It got very heated, his kisses got sloppier and he sucked on your tongue quite urgently, letting small moans into your mouth that you could only reciprocate. He decided to move on and he pressed kisses to the side of your mouth and chin, along your jaw and down your neck. That was the first time he’d gotten that far along your body and he loved it. He loved kissing your neck, once he started he couldn’t stop. It was like a fresh obsession. The kisses were soft, although this hand trailed down and you could feel his fingers hook into your jeans where the button was. It’s like he was making out with your neck at this point.

You can feel his tongue and lips assault at your neck, there’s a small smile on your face, your eyes are closed and you just lay back and enjoy the feeling.

Eventually a knock at the door scared both of you into stillness, Carl’s hand quickly moving away from your jeans.The voice on the other side of the door was bright, it was Maggie who was over for dinner. Right, you were having a family dinner.

“Are you both in there?” She asked politely. You responded with a yes, she refrained from intruding so she stayed outside the room. “Dinners just about ready if y’all wanna come down in a minute.” She replied. “Yeah we’ll be down.”

He rested his forehead against your neck and sighed in frustration. He then decided he wanted to get one more in before you headed downstairs. So he pressed his lips to the center of your neck, although he started to suck at your skin, sort of harshly. At the time, he didn’t think of what marks he could leave on you, he’d completely forgotten he could even leave a mark. He simply just wanted to suck at your neck a little longer. “What’re you doing?” You ask, sort of giggling. He obviously didn’t respond but he tapped the side of your hips. After a moment he pulled back with a grin on his face, wiping the saliva off your neck with his hand.

“Was that necessary?” You inquire jokingly. He nods. “Yeah it was.” You roll your eyes at him and get up, pulling him with you. The two of you head downstairs, hand in hand and Carl helps with setting the table while you help with bringing the food over. The feeling of his lips on your neck lingered and you smiled at the thought. Eventually you were all sat and settled in. You served yourself and began to dine when Maggie cleared her throat. “Darlin?” She spoke gently, trying not to alarm you. You were chewing but you looked at her. “Hm?”

She gestured at her own neck, looking at yours and your eyebrows furrow in confusion. You swallow your food and place your fork down to press your neck, feeling a bit of sensitivity where Carl had sucked at you earlier. Carl looks over at your neck, mid-chew when he spotted the red mark on your neck. Everyone was silent and all the attention was on you. She gestured to another area of her neck and you pressed it, feeling more sensitivity.

“Um…” You say lowly, full of embarrassment. Glenn out of all people chimes in. “Are those…”

“Hickeys.” Rick speaks.

Everyone’s body language made it seem like some sort of interrogation. Maybe you owed them an explanation. Apology? If only someone would say something so you would know which one to give. “I heard about this from Tara.” Michonne states. You both look at her and immediately think back to the conversation you had earlier that day. Snitch.

“How long?” Michonne questions, the two of you look at each other nervously, then back at the adults. “Since the road. After the hospital. Didn’t start dating till we got here..” You reply, somewhat ashamed considering the events that happened at the hospital and the devastation that followed, meanwhile the two of you were distracted by each other. “You’ve kept it from us this whole time?”

“Given the circumstances there was never really a right time…we’re really sorry-”

Rick cuts you off. “Sorry? What’re you apologizin’ for? We already sorta knew.” He smiles a bit and your’s and Carl’s expressions are quite puzzled. “Well, we weren’t sure but…we had an inkling.”

You both just sat there unsure of how to continue the conversation. “So you knew and didn’t say anything?” Carl retorts, frustrated he’d put in so much effort to be sneaky.

“It’s not like it wasn’t obvious.”

a/n: hihiiii i hope ur all well, if you didn’t see my msg this is the last fic i’ll post before i get out my last match up! (prob tmr)

from there, i’ll be writing and posting a short series called ghost in the woods, that’s a fem!reader and i like the idea, i have the plot points all written out but idk how long that’ll take, ill be getting requests out as well throughout that!

anyway ily bye!!!

tag list: @zomb-1-egutzz @lunarnightt @ilikestrawberriesandwomen @hiro--aoki @h00d-tr4sh @callsignwidow

[ghostboneswrites2]

A Mess || Part 10

Yes, ladies and gents and non-binary readers alike, the long awaited final part to A Mess has arrived. I’ve had this written for months and honestly thought I posted it already, so forgive the wait. I’m just a 23 year old teenage girl.

ANYWAYS, the polls for the contents of this final part resulted in:

More smut

Post Terminus / Pre Alexandria setting

The relationship becoming officially established & public

ANNNDDD a sequel series which is in the works ❤️‍🔥

18+ MDNI || Warnings: smut (male receiving oral, fingering, mild grinding), TWD typical stuff

      The days seemed to drag on the way they did after Shane died. You felt like an old paintbrush dragging across a desolate canvas, leaving a trail of splotchy grays and bloody smears, painting your surroundings to mimic the twisted feelings of turmoil inside you. The prison was gone and so many were lost. Beth was dead. So were Bob and Tyreese. At least Carol was back.

        You struggled to find anything to be grateful for, anymore. Sure, you narrowly escaped the hungry bellies of the cannibals at Terminus, and sure you were still alive, but were you really living? Was dragging the worn boots Daryl had gifted you when life was more forgiving across cracked asphault while your stomach gnawed away at your insides really any kind of life? Sometimes you wondered what you pressed on for. Especially with Daryl so reserved and closed off like he was. The loss of Beth had done something to him that you couldn't fully relate to because you weren't with Beth after the prison, you escaped with Glenn and found yourself locked away in a dark train car by the time you finally reunited with Daryl.

        He had formed a sort of connection with her, something pure and protective, something that was shattered right before his eyes with a single gunshot. 

        You wished he'd just talk to you. Or touch you. Or even look at you. Was he so miserable he lost all interest? Surely not. He loved you. He told you so, the day he wound up in that train car with you.

        You shielded your eyes as a bright light filled the dark box that confined you. You were sure they were coming to finally kill you off or whatever it was they planned to do with you. 

        You had sustained an injury to your head in the struggle to round you all up, so you were admittedly out of it. It wasn't until you felt rough hands around your cheeks and heard the panic and relief in his voice that you really registered what was going on.

        "(Y/N)." He breathed as he planted a rough kiss on your forehead then your lips. "I thought you were dead. I love ya, ya hear me? I fuckin' love you."

        You may not have remembered much from your concussed state, and he may have never said it again, but that was a memory you held onto with every last bit of your strength. He loved you.  

        You knew he just needed some time, but you also knew you needed him. You were slipping away; losing hope. A simple touch could have made the difference of life or death for you at that point. 

        Then, it rained. It was welcome. Your dry cracked lips, burning throat, and aching organs were brought back to life as you caught the droplets on your tongue. When the thunder rumbled, Daryl urged you all to an old barn he had found off on his own. He did that often; going off on his own.

        The night was loud and it was hard to find any rest. The wind slapped the weathered wooden walls and seemingly shook the ground. The thunder was loud and frequent, bright flashes infiltrating the cracks and openings as the lightning grew closer. You tossed and turned a lot, only to eventually sit yourself up and rub your eyes. You jumped when your eyes readjusted to the darkness to see a looming figure before you.

        "Hey." He whispered. You blinked.

        "Hey." You whispered back. He stepped over and sat down beside you.

        "Y'alright?"  He asked.

        "Can't sleep." You shrugged, not looking at him.

        "Mm." He nodded. "Other than that."

        "Just... tired." Was all you managed. There wasn't enough time in a day -- or sleepless night -- to go through and examine your emotions enough to lay them all out flat for him. Plus, that was never really his strong suit. You two showed each other how you felt in place of saying it. You always had. Which was another reason it hurt you so bad for him to pull away. You knew if he was done with what you had, he'd never say it. He'd just let you figure it out on your own, and you'd never really know why.

        "That ain't it." He pointed out. "But it's okay. I know I ain't been much for talkin' lately. You don't gotta be, either."

        You were lost for words. Was this an attempt at letting you back in? At being close to you?

        "Anyway, I, uh.." He cleared his throat and glanced around, scanning through the dim light of the dying fire to ensure he hadn't woken anyone. "I just miss ya, is all."

        "Oh." You nodded. "Yeah. Me too." 

        "Look, I just needed to figure it out, ya know? Let myself feel it." He persisted. "After Beth... After everything, I just couldn't let myself. But now I did, and I need to say sorry."

        "I just didn't know if..."

        "Nah." He cut you off. "That wasn't on you. That was me. 'N' I'm sorry." 

        "It's okay." You placed a gentle hand on his knee. "I get it."

        Some moments passed in silence as you both felt devoid of anything to say. He cleared his throat again.

        "Can I stay with you?" He asked.

        "Yeah. Of course." You half smiled, even though he probably couldn't see. You shuffled over to a bed of old hay where you had laid out a jacket.

        He laid down, propping his arm under his head in place of a pillow, and your crawled down beside him, curling up into his side and taking a breath. He was ripe with a lack of access to hygiene, but then again, so were you, so you decided to enjoy the musk as a byproduct of his closeness.

        The longer you lay awake, feeling the warmth of his body, the more it hit you just how bad you needed him in such trying times. You realized then, more than ever, how bad you were craving his touch, his scent, his voice, his taste.

        You popped your head up and looked up at his face. It was shadowy and dark but you’d recognize his features in total darkness. He glanced down at you with a softness, wondering what you were about to  say.

         However, ‘saying’ wasn’t on your agenda. No, it was much more of a ‘doing’ that you had planned. 

         You stretched your neck out to kiss him on the jaw as his hand rested contently on the back of your head. He thought you were just being affectionate in the way that girlfriends did when they missed their man, and you were, but you had other things planned, too. As your lips planted little kisses along his jawline until they met his own, he relaxed into the semi-comfortable bed of hay. He figured whatever you were doing, was just your way of telling him you missed him. After all, you two always showed what you felt, and rarely said it. 

        When your lips met his you quietly climbed over top of him, straddling him as you depend the kiss. The more you touched him, the deeper you felt his absence since Grady. 

        You broke away for a breath and littered more sloppy kisses over his cheeks and neck, stopping somewhere in between to nibble at his earlobe. He groaned quietly under the weight of you and your affections, hoping you’d stop whatever you were doing soon, as the aching member in his jeans was already begging to be touched. Unfortunately, there was no end in sight to your erotic touches. As you shifted, your own wet heat glided over the bulge in his pants, and you realized you were succeeding in your mission. 

        You were downright needy for him, breathy whines escaping you as you grounded against him, rubbing your flat hands over his chest with hunger, catching his lips in yours between sucking and nibbling at the flesh of his neck. His hands gripped your thighs as you got hotter and hornier, quickly realizing he wasn’t getting out of this one. 

        When you pulled back again, flushed and sweaty already, you could barely see the glisten in his eyes as he stared back at you. Slowly, you leaned down to whisper in his ear; “Quiet, okay?” 

        He nodded once and you slowly slid down until your face was level with his waist. Slowly, silent as you could manage, you unbuttoned his jeans, unzipped them, and wiggled them down his thighs. He let out a small breath when you rigged his boxers down, cold air hitting his bare flesh. With one last glance up at his face, you smirked and turned your attention to his tip, gently licking and planting wet kisses all around it. 

        A pleasant “agh” escaped him, prompting you to take it a step further. You wrapped your juicy lips around his tip and slowly lowered yourself, bobbing up and down with no sense of haste. He tried desperately to suppress any vocalizations that may have been at bay, fearful he’d wake someone, especially Carl or baby Jude.

        It was painfully slow, the way you’d take him in further every so often, and when you finally met the base of him, he couldn’t suppress the groan. You quickly glanced around for any stirring bodies, and continued when you found none. Slow like a snail, gliding your lips and tongue up and down his length, hollowing out your cheeks to create a vacuum. You wanted him to understand what he was missing, what kind of bliss you could give him. You wanted him to feel your absence when he wasn’t around, just like you did his.

        Soon enough he was throbbing in your mouth, his hips uncontrollably jerking. He was close. You debated whether or not to take it all the way or leave him begging for more. You opted to give him some relief, given the miserable circumstances of your lives. 

        You took all of him at once, his load spilling into the back of your throat and dripping down. You stayed like that for a moment, barely bobbing back and forth, allowing him to ride his high and come back down. 

        You wiped your mouth and grinned at him as you pulled away. With your help, he shimmied his pants back up and secured the button. You took your place beside him once again, snuggling up close, your head rested between his chest and shoulder. 

        He took a few minutes to recover before he used two fingers to guide your jaw up so he could place a gentle kiss on your swollen lips. He moved his kissed over your cheek and to your ear and whispered, “Quiet, okay?”

        You bit your lip and smiled as he carefully slid his fingers in your jeans and traced one across your slit, starting at your entrance and ending at your clit. Deciding his big hand wouldn’t have enough room in your buttoned jeans, he went ahead and unbuttoned them and slid the zipper down to allow more movement. 

        With that out of the way, he could work delicately on your sweet spots, gently dragging his finger up and down your slit to get it nice and wet. All the while, you were biting down on your lip trying to keep quiet. He noticed the way your hips with try to follow his finger when it moved up. You wanted him inside you, so he’d give it to you. 

        He slid his middle finger inside you and pumped it in and out a few times, laying a free hand over your mouth to make sure your sounds could be muffled. Your eyes fluttered at the sensation of his calloused skin massaging your insides, effortlessly finding that one spot that made you weak. His thumb found your clit as he fingered you, rubbing little circles, eliciting a small moan. He paused and gave you a look, reminding you where you were. You nodded, letting him know you understood, and he continued. A trembling breath released from your nose, his other hand still over your mouth, as he slipped a second finger inside and continued massaging your g-spot and rubbing your clit.

        As he settled into a rhythm, your body responded. You rocked your hips with his movements, communicating to him to keep up what he was doing. He understood. He always understood you.

        In no time at all, all that pent up frustration and aches for his touch finally heated to a boiling point, and you spilled over. Your body and voice trembled as you shook and rode your orgasm on his fingers. When your body calmed and you flinched at his touch, he pulled his hand away and buttoned you back up. He relaxed again, triumphant this time, and you curled up close to him and drifted to sleep in an instant. 

        Daryl was the first to wake the next morning, but given your position sprawled across him, you were quick to get up with him. The two of you went outside to assess the storm damage. Trees had fallen in the night, narrowly missing the barn itself. You made small talk as you wandered the area, occasionally taking out a stray walker. When you went back inside, hand in hand, the rest of the group was awake and shuffling around. Maggie was the first to notice the way Daryl held your hand so casually, then Sasha, then Glenn and the rest. Nobody knew what to say, but they all stared and exchanged glances amongst each other. Daryl shifted a tad, uncomfortable with the sudden attention, but he braved his anxieties and stood firmly beside you. He cleared his throat. 

         “Damage is pretty bad out there. ‘S a miracle then damn trees didn’t fall right on us.” He said.

        “Huh.” Rick hummed, nodding, still perplexed. He nodded down at your hand entwined with Daryl’s and raised his eyebrows. 

        “Oh.” Daryl shrugged, holding your hands up and looking down at them. He realized the two do you never really established a relationship, especially not completely openly. He figured the way he told you he loved you back in that train car at Terminus would have been a dead giveaway, but tensions were high back then. Maybe it went unnoticed. He shrugged again. “Yeah.” 

        You stifled a laugh and shook your head. Your family all smirked and smiled sweetly, but didn’t press further, save for Carol, who spoke in a ‘told you so’ kind of tone. “It’s about time you two quit playing footsies and took things to the next level.” 

Masterlist // Taglist

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow @virginsexgod69 @dazzling-roaring-20s @l0kilaufeys0n7 @uhnanix

[lyssak09]

when will you post yandere rick grimes 💕

Now 😂. I hope you and everyone else enjoy this! If you enjoy this please like, repost, and or follow me! Happy reading everyone 💙

Rick has always been attached to you, more so than he is to others, and it got worse when Lori died.

Ever since Lori died he’s been watching you like a hawk, even when you don’t realize it. Watching you sleep is both comforting and peaceful to him.

It makes his heart swell when he sees you taking care of Judith and Carl. Even if you didn’t like kids at first, Carl and Judith were different, and they needed a maternal figure. Which you happen to become without knowing.

After his mental breakdown, he starts to understand why he is doing certain things for you and why he has these feelings. It's because he loves you, more than anything. 

And no, you’re not a rebound. His relationship with Lori wasn’t doing well and he already felt something for you when he first met you. It just wasn’t noticeable yet.

He becomes extremely protective of you, even paranoid. Rick will give you the safest jobs in the prison. Such as helping him with the garden, watching the kids, cleaning up cleared sections of the prison, and so on. 

If you get too close to the walker gate he’ll flip. Yelling at you and killing multiple walkers (Who couldn’t even get to you really). Rick might start chaperoning your daily walks or observing from a distance because of the walkers.

You won’t be given scavenging missions. Even if you volunteer for one he’ll say no and have someone else do it. If you ask him why he doesn’t let you anymore he’ll just say “It's safer for you, and without you, Judith and Carl and so many of us would be lost without you.” Manipulative right?

He may go to great lengths to ensure that he is always a part of your life, even if it means manipulating situations or lying to keep you close.

He’s good at manipulation, I mean, it helped out a lot back when he was a sheriff. He’ll manipulate situations that cause you to be close to him or work with him, even though you already spend a lot of time with him, especially because of Judith and Carl. 

Rick will also manipulate you, and your feelings. He’ll use fear, kindness, guilt, and so on to keep you with him. Maybe even try to make you dependent on him by manipulating you. 

“You don’t understand, you’re the only mother figure Carl and Judith have now. You are too important and special to us, to me, to go risk your life on a scavenging mission, Y/N. Now why don’t you go help Carl with his schoolwork, he’s been asking for you. We can talk about this more later.”

You will not discuss it more later.

Rick will become extremely jealous. To the point, he’ll either subtly isolate you by giving everyone very different jobs from yours, or he’ll even quietly sabotage your relationships with others.

If someone shows even the slightest hint of interest in you he’s coming to mess it up.

“Listen here friend, I’ve noticed you’ve taken a liking towards Y/N. You should know that she’s taken, and wouldn’t go for someone like you in the first place,”

Did I forget to mention that you’re taken? By Rick?

You don’t know it but you’re in a relationship with him, whether you like it or not. Don’t get me wrong, Rick does understand that you two aren’t ‘technically’ together, yet. But that doesn’t mean you won’t be. 

You’ll be his wife eventually, you just don’t know it yet.

Rick likes to keep mementos of you and his kids on him and likes to have some to decorate his cell, which makes it more like a home.

Found a pretty flower on your walk with Judith and want him to have it? It’ll be found pressed in one of his favorite books. He’ll borrow Glenn’s camera to take photos of Carl and Judith, making sure to get some with you in a few as well. He’ll make someone take a photo of all four of you, it’s a family portrait in his eyes.

Rick isn’t just overprotective of you because of your safety. But he is also paranoid that someone might take you from him. Anyone who gets too close to you might be seen as a threat, and he’ll have a plan to eliminate them if needed.

As time goes on his love for you grows and grows to a terrifying amount.

He’ll start to get violent if things are going his way, such as you not being affectionate back, you not realizing you’re supposed with him, or you’re being super oblivious. It makes him frustrated and angry, this shouldn’t be that hard for you! You two are meant to be! He’ll break things, take his anger out on walkers, or even yell at people in the group (even if they haven’t done anything). 

He won’t ever hurt you, on purpose anyway, he would have to either been pushed to the edge or be going through another mental breakdown for him to hurt you.

Rick will be violent towards others though.

I think Rick could understand what he is doing is technically immoral, but he doesn't care, he’s doing this because he loves you. Or, I think Rick, who has been through so much trauma, is so delusional that he doesn't think he is doing anything wrong. You're his soulmate. Soulmates should be together. No matter what

Either way, he loves you more than life itself. He loves you more than he ever did Lori. He understands that now.

Despite his unhealthy behavior he genuinely believes that he’s doing this for your best interest, only he can keep you safe in this new world. 

Rick knows everything about you, from your daily routines to your likes and dislikes.

The group is becoming concerned by his behavior, but they’re also a little too freaked out to mention it yet.

On the outside, it looks like Rick is a strong capable leader. But on the inside a darker unstable side of him lurks.

Rick becomes so dependent on you for his sense of identity and purpose that he can't imagine life without you. He believes that you’re soulmates destined to be together forever, and he'll do anything to ensure that you never part.

Another way Rick keeps you ‘safe’ isolates you is by gaslighting you. He’ll purposely allow you to almost get hurt, which he hates doing but it's to prove you need him, then he’ll save you. Even though you can handle yourself pretty well against walkers he’ll find ways to almost have you get hurt so he can save you and prove that you need him to protect you. Rick will gaslight you to no end. “You say you can handle walkers but every time you and I encounter them you almost get hurt or die. Now that's not handling them. It’s okay that you need help against them. I’ll always be here to protect you Y/N.”

He uses your relationship with Carl and Judith to his advantage. When you’re spending time with them or taking care of them he’ll come and join you or watch with a tiny smile on his face, this is one of the many situations he uses to spend time with you.

Rick is also secretly coaching Judith to call you mama, the thought of leaving him and his kids could never cross your mind if that's how they feel about you. 

Carl starts to see you as a mom without Rick’s coaching. You helped take care of him and helped him grieve his mom. You help remind him that he’s still a kid, he gets to act more like one because of you. Carl will make it known to you that without you he’d have to grow up faster again and stop getting to act like his age again. Him telling you this helps Rick, not that Carl knows about it. Again, how could you leave them? Carl shouldn’t have to lose another mother figure, especially one that actually lets him be a kid. And it wouldn’t be fair to Judith for her to lose the woman who’s been caring for her since she was born. 

Once you do catch on to Rick’s feelings and intentions and if you try to leave him he’ll remind you of these facts, that Carl and Judith can’t lose you too.

He’s the king of manipulation at this point. 

Rick’s obsession with your safety is insane. To the point, he’ll risk his own well-being for you. I mean, that's what husbands are supposed to do, right? If food is running low he’ll give up his share to you and Carl, no matter how much you disagree or fight him on it.

Rick will never let you go or give you up. Even in the face of rejection or betrayal, Rick refuses to let go of you. He’ll become increasingly desperate and unstable, resorting to drastic measures to maintain his grip on you, including threats of violence or self-harm.

He may develop obsessive rituals or routines centered around you, such as constantly checking in on you, always eating with you, watching you sleep, or even hoarding items that remind him of you. These rituals help to reinforce his ‘connection’ to you Y/N.

Rick is extremely touchy, like oh my god. When he’s around you some part of him needs to be touching you. Like when you help him with the garden, he’ll guide your hands when planting or have a hand on the small of your back while he points out where he wants to add to the prison. He ‘accidentally’ brushes against you all the time.

When you’re sitting down and feeding Judith he’ll have a hand on your shoulder, he loves it when he has to squeeze behind you to get past you and he brushes against your backside, totally not because of inappropriate reasons. 

He likes to look for things for you and the kids when he’s out scavenging. Giving you things is one of the ways he shows you he loves you, even though may not realize he’s doing it for that. Rick is in search of a wedding ring for you, he’s going to marry you, and you’re destined to be together.

If he’s scavenging with Daryl and they go past a jewelry store he’ll send Daryl ahead and meet him at their original destination. Rick just has to make a quick pitstop.

Once he finally confesses or you notice his behavior, he’ll expect you to finally realize that you’re together and will happily marry him. If you try to say no or gently get him out of the delusions he won’t take it well. Possibly falling into the delusions more, especially if you’re not getting you’re meant to be his and he was meant to be yours. Rick will explain your reactions with more delusions or false logic. 

“You just don’t see it yet Y/N, we’re meant to be together. You’ll see it soon.

If push comes to shove he’ll make you his by force. Either clearing a secret part of the prison and preparing it for him, his kids, and his future wife. He’ll lock you in said cell block if needed. If that idea doesn’t work then Rick will find a nice secluded home somewhere for you guys. Hopefully, you’ll be compliant though so you guys won’t have to leave your new home everyone worked so hard on. 

Rick rationalizes his behavior with twisted logic, convincing himself that everything he does is for Y/N's own good. He believes that he's protecting you from the dangers of the world and that she needs him to survive.

He’ll go to great lengths for you, including getting rid of anyone or anything in the way. Maybe that's why some of your fellow survivors haven’t come back from scavenging missions Rick sent them on?

Rick loves you more than anything Y/N, remember that.

“I love you with all my heart darlin, don’t ever forget that.” Rick declared with a smile, blood dripping down his face,

[doodleferp]

So I got my mom into The Walking Dead and I thought I’d post about her journey so far.

Her favorite character is Judith hands down

She cried when Amy died

She screamed as much as Lori did when Judith was born

She was VERY interested in Daryl holding Judith

We got a scream when Patricia got mobbed, and an “oh, no…” when we learned what happened to Duane

Merle and Andrea were her least favorite characters until they both died — she hated the way Merle treated Daryl and she hated the way Andrea was always blinded by a dick. She was also terrified of Shane

She cried a LOT when Maggie was talking to Hershel while he was in his little leg coma because she lost her dad and it was hitting really hard

As of today we have

A shout when The Governor killed Martinez

A very loud gasp when The Governer killed Hershel

A full-body “OH, MY GOD!!!” when The Governor put down Meghan

Actually screaming at Rick to kill The Governor while they were fistfighting

A very loud “OH, NO” when she believed Judith was dead

She kept asking if Rick was dead while he was passed out in the house

We had a very interesting discussion about who was living in the house where Carl got the pudding. I thought it could’ve been some college kids/a college neighborhood and she thought it was a new family moving in. She even found some details that I missed!

A brief intermission so she could do work and the entire time she kept asking me about the prison bus that was supposed to have Glenn on it and she was REALLY upset that something might’ve happened to Judith

When we picked up at like 8 PM she was ELATED to discover that Judith was okay. Then she started yelling at Tyreese for leaving the kids alone to go help someone

She’s terrified that Lizzie is gonna hurt Judith because “that girl has issues”

Side note, when Daryl and Beth found that massacre and she saw the kid’s show she was like “ARE THOSE THE KIDS??? ARE THOSE ALL THE KIDS?!?!” Despite the walkers and corpses being grown adults

She just saw the bus she wanted to see so bad and she even didn’t realize that it was the same bus

This woman turned 53 yesterday and her TWD journey is just beginning. She is already distrustful of Terminus but I can’t wait to see how she reacts to them being cannibals

EDIT: Mom enjoyed the middle finger house fire 🖕

[lizardboyscalesmcstuffins]

I decided to make dndads pokemon team headcanons

Each character will be limited to 3 max (exceptions pending)

Daryll:

Greedent - Looks just like him, Matt said so himself. Calls it Grant. It gets confusing.

Meowth (Galar) - Scruffy just like Daryll. Evolves into Perrserker, fitting Daryll's barbarian class. Named it Aragorn on a whim and wouldn't change it even when people told him it doesn't fit.

Kangaskhan - Loving, protective parent. Inherited from Frank as the baby of his own Kangaskhan now grown up. Named it after his grandmother, Sally.

Henry:

Cradily - No brainer. Best of both interests (nature and geology). Named it Lily. Simple, sweet.

Carnivine - Thorn Whip/Entangle/Grasping Vine! Also representative of his more aggressive nature that he pushes down until he snaps. Named it simply Flower cause he wanted to associate it with nice and gentle imagery.

Trevenant - Had it since he was a boy and both lost their memories when they were transported to earth. Gifted to him by Beary to help attune him to the Doodler's eldritch nature within him by interacting with the ghost type. Made of the husk of an oak tree. Perhaps possessed by the lost soul of an Oakvale child. Can learn Will-O-Wisp, which is a good enough justification for Wall of Fire for me. He never named it.

Glenn:

Beeheeyem - Had it since it was an Elgyem, but doesn't remember catching it. He remembers getting high in the desert one night, then waking up with a new friend. He doesn't even know the species name, he just calls it Star Wars.

Rotom - Let's it chill in his amps or guitars when at home and in his vape pen when on the go. When it possesses his electric guitars it can play loud even without an amp. Calls it Lil' Dude/Lil' Man/Lil' Guy/Lil' Buddy. It responds to all.

Pikachu - of all the characters, he feels the most right to have a Pikachu. What's it's name? Nick Jr.

Glenn hasn't technically captured any of his pokemon.

Ron:

Herdier - His first pokemon that he had to give up long ago. Named Rogue.

Greavard - It found him one day.

Paeden:

Tyrogue - It's the same size as him and he found it after joining the dads. He fought it himself. Calls it his Rival.

Walter the Immoral:

Honedge - The sword that gave him his name. He never wanted a pokemon, but when the sword he crafted broke and killed that hero, it became possessed and returned to him. Has no name, and he barely refers to it. Good friends with Paeden.

Scam Likely/Well Actually/Scam Actually:

He has no set team. Every time he crosses paths with the daddies he has a different pokemon accompanying him, even if they were only separated for an hour.

Some examples of pokemon he's been seen with -

Purrloin

Sneasel (both versions)

Mew

Igglybuff

Each of the daddies' pokemon (at different occasions)

Spinarak

Murkrow

Meowth (Kanto)

Seviper

Zorua (most commonly seen)

Arin O'Neal:

Trevenant - (Lots)

Torterra - (Lots)

Willy:

Dusknoir - Uses it as a tool and nothing else. Doesn't refer to it at all, conditioned it to respond to orders only.

Darkrai - Keeps it contained and under wraps. Never tries to use it for battle or utility. He doesn't want to risk losing control, even in his dreams. He would have to be desperate to resort to using it.

Beary:

Liligant (Hisui) - Uses it as a partner for light aerobics and yoga. Calls it Lily.

Golurk - Created it himself. He considers it something of a magnum opus. Refers to it by its species name.

Dragonite - His ace up his sleeve. He lets it guard the O-Dads compounds and bases. Calls it Raymond Dio Labot.

Bill:

Slaking - His oldest pokemon. Extraordinarily powerful, but just as lazy as he is. Calls it Brother.

Exploud - He likes it loud. Taught it to beatbox and Willy fucking hates it. Calls it Rock and/or Roll.

Rotom - Glenn's Rotom. He bequeathed it to him some time before he "died". He's the one that started calling it any variation of "Lil'" that Glenn caught on to.

The Doodler:

Unown Unknown

[thesongbiird]

in your ideal world, what does life look like in the universe where beth has never died? how has beth developed without that happening? what kind of person has she become? what is her relationship like with some of the characters that came on after she died? do you think she would still eventually die from something else, if so what? or do you think she'd outlive everyone?

Oh my goodness, thank you so much for sending this!! I'm going to try and break this down bc I always have way too much to say about Beth in general, and I can feel this is gonna get long!

Firstly, in my ideal world, if Beth never died, I believe she would have continued her journey into becoming a fighter. We saw glimpses of who she was becoming. She was strong and resilient, and she survived that hospital all on her own like a damn boss. I think that experience would have made her believe in herself and her own capabilities and realise that she didn't have to be taken care of. She could protect herself and the people around her. I think she would have grown to be a real asset, tough and strong but never losing her heart and kindness. Honestly, I think the group really suffered with the loss of Hershel and then Beth, the two characters who had the most hope and optimism.

I think she would have absolutely thrived in Alexandria and would have thrown herself into the community. She would have remained close in particular with Daryl and Carol, given that she spent time after the fall of the prison with Daryl and she had taken care of Carol when she was in Grady. In terms of the characters Beth never got to meet there are a few relationships that I think could have been great to explore. I think she would have gotten close with Sasha, I feel that her and Maggie are fairly similar and Beth would gravitate toward her because of that. I feel that it could have been so interesting to see her dealing with the aftermath of Negan, especially given what we saw of Beth's character. She would struggle with her morals, despising Negan for what he did to Glenn and Maggie but I don't think she'd want him dead. I think on some level she'd agree with Rick's decision to keep him alive and maybe that would cause some conflict with Maggie.

If I'm being honest I think she probably still would have died. Most likely in Alpha's line up. Obviously I would have wanted her to live and to survive and have a long and happy life but I don't imagine that's too realistic. I also think that could have made the whole whisperer arc/Alpha's lineup a lot more impactful and interesting. On the show I liked it but the characters we lost weren't ones who had been around for particularly long.

On the whole I would say that Beth is a great example of wasted potential and killing a character for shock value. Personally I adore her character because she's the most relatable to me. She doesn't immediately know how to fight and thrive during the end of the world. She's soft and sweet and she struggles but then the writers gave us a glimpse of who she could become, without losing those traits I already loved about her and I feel that her death was a total waste of that potential. It wasn't the death itself but the timing of it that it found disappointing. If they'd continued her arc and let her grow and become the character that she was proving to be and killed her off later it would have been one of the most heartbreaking deaths in the show and a wonderful character arc. Instead it felt as though they had a great character potential which was totally thrown away.

I have ranted for so long but to conclude I love Beth Greene with my whole damn soul and I MISS HER EVERYDAY.

[lapinbunwrites]

So apparently there is @fe-oc-week going rn and I almost missed it! So I am going to clump as many of the prompts as I can.

Day 1: Introductions

Her name is Elena von Riegan! The illegitimate daughter of Godfrey von Riegan and his mistress Setsuna. She was born in the year of 1153. When she was about six years old, her and her mother left the Leicester Alliance to get to another country, but they end up in Fraldarius territory where they stayed. When the plague hit, it took her mother, leaving her by herself with no family left to speak of. She is a dark flier and her pegasus was a gift from Lambert and was once his first wife's pegasus.

Elena is very energetic, cunning, and stubborn. She loves her pegasus, dancing, singing, purple butterflies, rose acacia flowers. spicy food. Here interests includes learning new tactics, exploring, new training styles, and scheming. She does not like her father, disorganization, heat, and swimming. Elena is one year younger than Glenn and she is 9 years older than Felix.

Day 2: Relationships

She was part of the next generation of Faerghun four which includes Glenn Govan Fraldarius, Colby Frey Galatea, and Miklan Anschutz Gautier.

Glenn: Her childhood friend who she bonded with instantly. Over the course of their lives, they became best friends and did everything with. Eventually the two did fall in love with each other, but never acted on it because of Glenn's betrothal to Ingrid. She is the one that Glenn trusts the most.

Colby: They are very close and are childhood friends. They are pure chaos with each other and have zero braincells when they are around each other. They do care about each other deeply and Colby trust her to the point that he told her that she is a trans woman and wants to go by Astrid instead of Colby.

Miklan: The two used to be so close, like brother and sister, and did everything together. They both trained in axes and war tactics under Matthias and magic under Miklan's mother, Raven. They always competed with each other to see who was best. Elena always won. But with the birth of Sylvain, that's when their relationship broke. They constantly fought and she did everything she could to protect Sylvain from Miklan's terrible behavior. With the way Miklan treated his younger brother, she lost all feelings towards him and felt relief when he left/died.

Holst: They are friendly with each other and get along very well. They usually train with each other or have a little tea party to catch up on life since they don't see each other all that often. Sometimes they are at odds with each other, but usually they come to an agreement.

Balthus: As much as Elena likes Balthus, she gets very frustrated with Balthus. Most of her frustrations come from cleaning up his mess with Holst. She constantly questions their friendship and wonders how is still alive most of the time.

Claude: Elena cares for Claude so very much. Whenever they are around each other, they get into so much trouble and have so much fun. They pull multiple pranks on people, especially on the Gloucester family. They constantly give Judith and Nader heart-attacks. Elena also is very motherly towards Claude.

Godfrey: Elena despises her father and can't stand him. She went no contact with him after her and her mother left Riegan Territory. From what she remembers of him, she didn't feel like he cared for her or her mother. She also felt like she was like she was never meant to exist and that she was a plight on the Riegan name. So she never cared to keep in contact with her father when she got older.

Amelia: Elena always felt loved from Duchess Fraldarius, as she was the daughter Amelia never got. The two of them are very close, and they treat each other with a lot of respect.

Rodrigue: Rodrigue is like a father to Elena. He treats her with such kindness, softness, and gentleness. If she had any opinion on how a father should be, it would be Rodrigue. He trusts her with a lot of information and has her as his advisory, not only for him, but for his wife and his son Glenn.

Lambert and Aisla: Elena is like a daughter that they never had. They are like a third family to her. They care for each other deeply and trust her with so much.

Dimitri: Elena is like an older sister Dimitri and one of his closest friends. She would do anything to protect him, even at the cost of her life and in turn he would do the same. She believes in him and the future he wants to create. She is also very motherly towards him.

Ingrid: Elena and Ingrid don't get along with each other at all. She wanted to befriend her and be nice to her for Glenn's sake and because she would become Ingrid's advisor in the event she becomes the next Duchess Fraldarius. But that always failed with Ingrid's jealousy and hatred towards her. Elena does everything possible to avoid Ingrid.

Day 3: Backstory

Elena was born the only, and illegitimate, daughter of Godfrey von Riegan and his mistress Setsuna. She is also the niece of Tiana von Riegan and cousin to Claude von Riegan.

Setsuna's and Godfrey's relationship was kept in secret, and when Elena was born, her existence was also kept as a secret. Shortly after Godfrey's relationship and daughter found out, Setsuna feared the worst for her and her child, she took Elena and left the Alliance Territory. Setsuna fled towards Duscur in hopes of saving Elena from her family and all the backlash.

On their way to Duscur, they ended up in Fraldarius, only hoping to stay the night. While they were there, Elena befriended Glenn instantly. After that, they stayed there. Setsuna became an advisor to Duchess Fraldarius, Amelia and Elena enjoyed her childhood in Fraldarius.

Because of her mother constantly traveling, Elena was able to befriend Colby/Astrid Frey Galatea and Miklan Anschutz Gautier. She was able to train in axe and tactics under Matthias and reason magic under his wife, Raven. She would also travel with Amelia and Glenn to the Alliance Territory, where Elena was able meet Balthus and Holst.

With her friendship with Glenn and the Fraldarius family, she grew close to the Blaiddyd family. She learned how to hunt, ride a pegasus, and light magic because of the Queen Consort, Seraphina. Once Seraphina passed away, Lambert gifted Elena with his wife's pegasus because he knew no one would be able to ride her and Elena would be able to take care of her.

Growing up with Glenn, she fell in love with him. He was always so kind, so gentle with her, and he gave her all of his trust. They always confided in each other. As they grew, it always pained her that he would end up with Ingrid to the point where she debated leaving the Fraldarius family. She stayed anyways with the family, coming to the conclusion that she was content being with Glenn even if he was going to marry Ingrid.

Much to her delight, Glenn decided that after his travels to Duscur, he would end his betrothal to Ingrid and truly start his relationship with Elena.

Day 4: Tragedy

Elena was cleaning some rooms in Castle Fraldarius for when Lambert, Matthias, and a few other visitors came for some business. While she did that, she found a notebook that belonged to Lambert's first wife. While she read through it, she thought it would be best if he saw it because it had some incriminating info about Rufus and what his plans were for the throne. When she went up to Fhridiad to discuss negotiations with Duscur, she forgot the notebook and Lambert, Glenn, and the small army to wait a couple days. If she wasn't back from Fraldarius with the notebook, to go ahead and leave without her.

When she was on her way back to Fhridiad, she was ambushed by the TWISTED. She fought off as many as she could, but she wasn't able to survive the attack. She ultimately died along with her pegasus. In her last moments, she wished Glenn all the happiness in the world and hopefully he loves someone as much as he loved her. Her body was taken back to Fraldarius Castle where she had a proper funeral. Her pegasus was taken back to Fhridiad to have a proper send off of her own.

Day 5: Joy

In another world, she gets to Fhridiad in time and saves her life and the life of many, including Glenn's and Lambert's. Because of this, Glenn was able to call of his betrothal to Ingrid and they began to date, eventually getting married. They ended up having two children, Akari and Hotaru. They had Akari when Felix went to the academy, right around the time he receives the Aegis shield. Then they had Hotaru during the five year war.

Day 7: Endings

She will only have one canon ending and that will be with Glenn.

"After the war had ended, Elena went back to House Fraldarius with her beloved husband. Both Glenn and Elena rebuilt and restored Fraldarius Territory to its former glory, even making it better than the previous Duke and Duchess. It was often said that the Duke and Duchess spent much time in the kitchen with their children, filling the castle with laughter and celebrations. The recipes that they had, were passed down from generation to generation and became pillars of what food that started a culinary revolution, setting a new trend in the culinary world."

[twdmusicboxmystery]

in relation to the anonymous hate towards Beth, I think it's a whole, Beth was known for her suicide attempt, twd has many strong female characters and is what is considered "normal". So seeing this "weak" character I think annoyed the audience, personally I think Beth was such a human character because we saw her development on screen, unlike Michonne for example who was already rude from her first appearance. I don't know if Hershel was "judged" for going off drinking and leaving his daughters alone and being "weak" (which to me is also a human action, crying and grieving for your lost loved ones). I feel like male characters are "forgiven" for being human but in this case Beth is punished. 🤷‍♂️

Pasando a otro tema, en el cómic Lori muere cuando el gobernador ataca la prisión. ¿Sabes la razón por la que en la tele tomaron la decisión de matarla en el parto? ¿Y convertir a Beth Judith en la cuidadora principal en el proceso? Sinceramente, creo que querían darle tiempo de pantalla.

En cuanto a las filtraciones de Daryl, prefiero creer que en esas fotos en las que aparece la actriz vestida de monja y Daryl delirando, Daryl está viendo a Beth, no tengo pruebas pero tampoco dudas. Daryl es conocido por sus alucinaciones.

Y finalmente, ¿viste las historias de Instagram de Emily? 🤯

Xoxo

For non-Spanish speakers, here's the translation of the Spanish part:

Moving on to another topic, in the comic Lori dies when the governor attacks the prison. Do you know the reason why on TV they made the decision to kill her in childbirth? And make Beth Judith the primary caretaker in the process? I honestly think they wanted to give her screen time.

As for Daryl's leaks, I prefer to believe that in those photos in which the actress appears dressed as a nun and Daryl delirious, Daryl is seeing Beth, I have no proof but no doubt either. Daryl is known for his hallucinations.

And finally, did you see Emily's Instagram stories?

I agree with what you said about her not being a strong character at the first, and since the audience is used to strong characters, they got a little annoyed. I can see that. But I think that was Gimple's point. A lot of people really would be puddles of goo if the zombie apocalypse truly happened. He wanted to show someone who started out weak but then became very strong. It's the ultimate character arc to go from a place of weakness to a place of strength.

In terms of Lori, they were always remixing things in the show as compared to the comics. The only thing they did 100% the same way was Glenn's death. And that's because it was so iconic. But other than that, they almost never did things the same way because they didn't want the show to be too predictable. They wanted to make it their own, and I'm glad that's the case.

As for Beth, I talked about this a few days ago (HERE). About how from the very beginning Gimple didn't simply make her the babysitter because he didn't know what else to do with her. He did it to foreshadow a future arc that had to do with children, especially kidnapped children, and babies. So, I believe he had major plans for Beth's arc, even back then.

I love the idea of Daryl being delirious in those pics and seeing Beth! I could see that, and it would be super interesting, wouldn't it?

I see most of Emily's stories, but you'd have to be more specific about which one. She posts a lot. 😉

Thanks for all your thoughts, Nonny. Xoxo! ☔️💕

[dankusner]

Richard Val LeClercq

Richard Val LeClercq, 63, died July 29, 2005, from complications of acute alcoholism. He is survived by his son Noel LeClercq, San Marcos; daughter Desiree LeClercq, Austin; stepson Glenn Ross, Austin; brother Leon LeClercq, Los Angeles; and a host of ex-wives. Val was born in Los Angeles and received his Ph.D. from UCLA, where he swam butterfly and sang tenor in the Opera Workshop. He was hired by the University of Texas Department of English as their authority on poet John Milton. Val taught for almost 30 years, switching specialities to literary criticism and directing the dissertations of many bright English majors. Val was a talented pianist, and had a sweet tenor voice. He was a golden-ear hi-fi enthusiast who designed and built stereo systems. He brought enthusiasm and intelligence into each of his many projects, and somehow talked his friends into participating in each outlandish invention. His family thanks the English Department for its patience with his disease. The family plans a wake to celebrate his life and introduce his old friends to his children. Please call Terri for details of the Final A-B Test. The family hopes each reader will make out a will, right now. Memorials should be sent to Alcoholics Anonymous, North Austin 24-Hour Group, Austin 78758.

Published in the Austin American-Statesman on 8/6/2005.

Richard Val LeClercq ("Val") was by far my favorite college professor at UT in Austin.

One of the reasons I get so pissed off when people say "drugs are bad but alcohol is fine" is because the only person I've ever seen destroyed by a substance addiction was Val--alcohol killed him. After a while he could no longer teach, so he sat at home and I, along with my friend Mike, were the only two people who would spend any time with him.

Unfortunately, after a while, he made it clear that he no longer wanted anyone to be around and while it was incredibly sad, there was nothing more we could do for him and we eventually lost touch.

The last time I saw him, which was sometime in 1999 or maybe early 2000, he seemed to be on the verge of death.

I remember sitting by his hospital bed giving him kumquats, which is all he could eat for some reason.

Cheap vodka did him in. Nonetheless, even with a BAC higher than that of a date-raped sorority girl, he was still the best teacher I've ever had. I always wondered how he was doing.

Val will certainly be missed. I give my condolences to his family, his many ex-wives, and "the Lac", his polish wife who he could never quite seem to get entrance to the US (that's assuming the Lac was still his wife at the time of his death last year).

Val was a nutty guy for sure. But he was also a genius, and made me realize nothing is above scorn, and cynicism trumps all. His Lit-Crit class consisted of taking scholarly writings by well-respected academics and tearing them apart. Truly a great class. We'd spend most of class time in his office drinking cheap coffee or lapsang soushong tea, making fun of the other students in the class (who were wondering where the teacher was) and the staff of the English department. Since he didn't feel like doing it, he would let me grade the papers of students in his other classes (not my fellow students, as that would probably be somewhat of a conflict of interest). I only failed a few people, for the record.

I'll always remember Val, and I wish he didn't force me and Mike to leave him alone in his last years. Alcohol destroyed the life of a great man, and I witnessed it first hand. I can't say the same for pot, cocaine, meth, heroin, or any other drug. If you believe in drug prohibition, you're a worthless hypocrite if you don't also support alcohol prohibition (which, like drug prohibition, we know doesn't work). Of course, even if alcohol had been illegal, Val would have distilled moonshine in his back yard and nothing would have been different. But tonight, I'll drink a glass of cheap plastic-bottle vodka and store-brand cranberry juice in Val's memory (okay, it will be Gray Goose). Cheers, Val.

374L, Earlier 17th Century: Donne, Jonson, and Their Contemporaries

Poetry and prose, 1600 to 1660: the metaphysical and other leading traditions in poetry; the early poems of Milton; the essay, the character, and other prose forms. Three lecture hours a week for one semester. Prerequisite: Nine semester hours of coursework in English or rhetoric and writing.

Milton’s Paradox of Grace in Sonnet 7 

From conflict to composure, John Milton’s Sonnet 7—“How Soon Hath Time” (1632)—illustrates two life philosophies and the psychological ramifications each one may offer the individual. 

How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth, Stol’n on his wing my three-and-twentieth year! My hasting days fly on with full career, But my late spring no bud or blossom shew’th. Perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth That I to manhood am arriv’d so near; And inward ripeness doth much less appear, That some more timely-happy spirits endu’th. Yet be it less or more, or soon or slow, It shall be still in strictest measure ev’n To that same lot, however mean or high, Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Heav’n: All is, if I have grace to use it so As ever in my great Task-Master’s eye.

The poem’s speaker makes the successful transition from one philosophy to the other, describing the process in three quatrains and a couplet. 

In the first four lines of the sonnet, he is the victim of the struggle between determinism and his own expectations. 

By the end of the poem, he has found a peaceful release in the resignation that he may only control his response to life, not the course or even the content of it. 

The first quatrain of Milton’s Sonnet 7 presents the initial circumstances of our speaker’s quandary. 

Thematically, he feels in conflict with the passage of time, exasperated by its adroit and speedy progression. 

He is surprised by Time’s ability to act independently of, and with little regard for, his self-admitted immaturity as it steadily takes possession of his youth. 

Despite the speaker’s apparent sincerity, we are made aware of the true nature of the conflict through Milton’s ironic structure and word choice.

There are obvious disparities between the physical existence of the speaker and the abstract “Time,” as well as the tone of hopelessness inspired by the speaker’s relatively young age.

These incongruities reveal that the conflicts arise from the speaker’s own assumptions and expectations for his life.

The first indication of Time’s control is given in line one.

Personified, it terminates the first two iambic feet and is followed by a medial caesura in the form of a comma.

This strong termination and short pause emphasize the description that follows.

A metaphor is employed to describe Time as a subtle thief, this concept mimicked by the unaccented syllable cluster in the center of the last three iambs, “stealing” the line with an increase in metrical pace.

This metaphor is extended into the next line as Time becomes a flying creature.

The metonymy of “on his wing” heightens the sense of swift action.

Time—in this animated, masculine form—seems to outshine the speaker himself, whose only presence is indicated in the thrice-repeated adjective of possession, “my.”

This is curious incongruity, for despite the speaker’s ability to recount the circumstance, he is unable to act upon it.

Time is the active party here, stealing and flying beyond the speaker’s control.

With a preponderance of th and f consonant clusters in line one, there is the impression of a sputtering delivery of the exclamation as Time steals the speaker’s very breath.

The ironic personification of Time, and the inability of the speaker to control it, points up the speaker’s preoccupation with the concept of control.

Why is “he” so frustrated when faced with a basic element of the natural world?

The first quatrain illustrates an Aristotelian viewpoint that can wreak havoc in a young man’s life—and, indeed, it does cause problems for the speaker.

Implicit in his accusations are the clear traces of particular expectations.

First, the exclamation that Time is passing is the result of the assumption that it would not.

The speaker is chagrined as Time steals his “three-and-twentieth year,” flying as it goes.

An interesting shift occurs here as Milton introduces an inconsistency.

The “my” of line three claims the flight of “hasting days”; whereas, in lines one and two, only Time assumes the tenor of the bird metaphor.

With this in mind, the irony of “on with full career” is even more poignant.

Even though his days pass by at full speed, flying “on” instead of “off” (away from the speaker), he does not claim control of them.

It is the last line of the quatrain, however, that reveals the Aristotelian tendency to make plans, to anticipate their fulfillment, and then to draw conclusions based on assumptions.

“But” indicates the speaker’s disappointment as he muses upon his unsatisfied expectations and his wasted youth.

The progression of “bud or blossom” displays a distinct desire to advance through stages to some kind of tangible, evident goal, this desire explicitly articulated by “shew’th.”

Assisting this Aristotelian concept of expected progression is the specification of the speaker’s age.

He makes a point of stating the particular odd year (23rd) that marks his point of despair.

Again, Milton seasons the predicament with irony.

“Late spring” marks the end of childhood, but it also is the beginning of adulthood, a point the speaker cannot imagine.

He can only perceive the “subtle” thievery of Time, enervated by its elusiveness.

This is given formal, mimetic enactment as the masculine end-rhymes of lines two and three descend from sharp high vowels (“year,” “career”) down through “no bud or blossom,” to the despondently low ew of “shew’th.”

Appropriately, the moments of metrical incoherence occur at the points of doubt and frustration.

The “subtle thief of” unaccented cluster is matched by an even more uncontrollable stressed cluster in line three— “hasting days fly on.”

These are followed by the hesitant unstressed foot beginning line four, which consolidates the attempt to thwart the speaker’s rigid iambic pentameter.

A shift from an a posteriori stance to an a priori position of questioning provides for thematic, structural, and tonal changes in the second quatrain.

For the speaker, these four lines are an aporia following the hopeless feeling in the first quatrain.

He is not sure what to make of the situation.

Allowing his mind to survey the circumstances and distinguish the elements of his conflict, he moves into a more balanced state of mind.

This reflective yet passive stance is enacted both verbally and formally.

“Perhaps” and “might” of line one indicate the speaker’s reluctance to once again impose his hasty conclusions as he reflects.

His “semblance” provides him with a self outside of himself whom he must confront.

This is not unlike his relationship to Time, which serves nicely as a scapegoat in the first quatrain.

This duality is embellished throughout the rest of the sonnet.

It introduces the important concept of multiplicity as a means to achieve balance and self-understanding.

On the one hand, the speaker’s “semblance” reflects a boy nearing manhood.

However, inner contemplation reflects immaturity—“ripeness doth much less appear.”

Recalling the premature expectation of “bud or blossom” in line four, the actual reflection “might deceive the truth” by convincing the speaker that he has become a man.

Milton effectively creates this sense of prematurity by inverting the natural subject-to-verb order of line six, “I to manhood am arriv’d so near.”

Again, the notions of anticipation and frustration are heightened by the phrases “to manhood am arriv’d” (an ideal) and “so near.”

On the contrary, “inward” contemplation reveals a green, hopeful state that neither thwarts nor frustrates maturity but, rather, promises to endue/endow at the hands of “timely- happy spirits.”

It’s important to note that these two reflections, though distinct, are conjoined.

The “and” of line seven brings the two reflections into a balanced composite portrait of the speaker, appealing to the sense of sight with the words “semblance” and “appear.”

Formally, this multiplicity transforms the cranky pace and tone of the first quatrain.

Lines five, six, and seven, instead of medial caesuras, place unstressed feet at the third foot, creating fluid but strongly polarized lines.

Their aural rhythm mimics the thematic duality of the quatrain.

The rhyme similarly mimics this new symmetry by achieving the abba scheme, correcting the abbc variation of the previous quatrain.

The calm tone of these second four lines allows Milton to alter the relationship between the speaker and his conflict.

For the first time, the first person pronoun “I” is asserted, the paradox resulting from this acknowledgment of multiplicity.

Likewise, Time is no longer an elusive, thieving personification but, rather, a descriptive aid, “timely.”

Although his self-criticism is harsh (“inward ripeness doth much less appear”) the speaker arrives, inadvertently, at new conclusions that are not, in this case, fatalistic.

The metaphysical “happy spirits” that will ripen the speaker’s character are both generous and opportune, but they are also independent of the speaker.

Has he learned his lesson?

He does not attempt to distinguish their ranks (as in his articulation of age), choosing instead “some” (happy spirits).

Nor does he try to discern the “bud or blossom” of their assistance.

The shift from desire for external evidence to internal observation seems promising.

The formal aural lightness of line eight seems to indicate such a progression as the accented “timely-happy spirits endu’th” replaces “no bud or blossom shew’th” from line four.

At this point, Milton’s irony becomes paradoxical.

Inner contemplation, not external “semblance,” reveals the truth: passive reflection, not external activity, brings disparity into balance.

The last quatrain synthesizes the sonnet’s first eight lines.

Beginning with “Yet,” the tone of resignation, of unquestioning acceptance, is immediately established with the volta—that is, the turn in thought or argument in the sonnet form.

Thematically, Milton projects the concepts of multiplicity and passivity into a religious context.

Giving them a religious breadth, he also alters their previously individualized application.

Our speaker seems to represent every Protestant, if not “everyman.”

The point, however, is not pushed to its extreme.

God remains rather ambiguous, as does the role of the divine, in salvation through multiplicity and passivity.

Just as the first quatrain has a distinctly Aristotelian bias, the last quatrain displays a definite Platonic viewpoint.

Binary oppositions abound, a syntactic ligation stringing them together  indifferently.

The four inclusive instances of “or” combine the many facets of the speaker’s maturing character into a veritable, and variable, cynosure of possibility.

The speaker knows not to attempt their distinction, thrice referring to the options as “it” and leaving the decisions up to Time, which has reassumed a personified stance.

The reconstituted entity seems to be a “comic” hybrid of the metaphorical thieving bird and the “happy spirits.”

As an afterthought, Milton’s phrase “and the will of Heav’n” gives Time divine inspiration.

Medial caesuras after “more” and “lot” help to break up the four lines, emphasizing the multiplicity effect.

“To” and “Toward” offer multiple meanings for the concept “approach,” becoming a combination of spatial movement and movement towards similarity of kind.

Of the three quatrains, the third is the least coherent, metrically.

It contains the only enjambment (“ev’n/To that same lot”), but, as if “in strictest measure,” it is accepted with its disparate and overreaching patterns.

The themes of resignation and passivity, however, are the foci of lines nine through twelve.

With the reintroduction of the personified Time, “I” is replaced by the once-mentioned first- person object “me.”

This submission, in reverence to the divine, is encouraged by the certainty and confidence of the “shall be” prophesy of line ten.

“That same lot” embodies the essence of the speaker’s resigned indifference.

Completely turned around, he no longer has expectations of his own but, rather, offers the amorphous “lot” of his life to Time and “the will of Heav’n.”

Ironically, the two “shall be still in strictest measure” if this resignation is sustained.

The power of the volta and the binary oppositions allow for the notion of “lot,” or a multifaceted future.

This is quite a departure from the very specific “three-and- twentieth year,” at which time “bud or blossom” are the only options.

With resignation comes the acceptance of multiplicity RVL – Yes, of course, you needed to elaborate further, especially But what you did do with the formal is quite good! And your thematic discussion is clearly the best in the class!

Richard Val LeClercq, 63, died July 29, 2005, from complications of acute alcoholism.

He is survived by his son Noel LeClercq, San Marcos; daughter Desiree LeClercq, Austin; stepson Glenn Ross, Austin; brother Leon LeClercq, Los Angeles; and a host of ex-wives. Val was born in Los Angeles and received his Ph.D. from UCLA, where he swam butterfly and sang tenor in the Opera Workshop. He was hired by the University of Texas Department of English as their authority on poet John Milton. Val taught for almost 30 years, switching specialities to literary criticism and directing the dissertations of many bright English majors. Val was a talented pianist, and had a sweet tenor voice. He was a GoldenEar hi-fi enthusiast who designed and built stereo systems. He brought enthusiasm and intelligence into each of his many projects, and somehow talked his friends into participating in each outlandish invention. His family thanks the English Department for its patience with his disease. The family plans a wake to celebrate his life and introduce his old friends to his children. Please call Terri for details of the Final A-B Test. The family hopes each reader will make out a will, right now. Memorials should be sent to Alcoholics Anonymous, North Austin 24-Hour Group. — Family-Placed Obituary, Austin American-Statesman, August 6, 2005

on the verbal. and the paradoxes of fate.

The speaker accepts passively his lot, willing to follow Time and an ill-defined destiny.

Completing the transformation from obsessive control to passive resignation, the couplet is, itself, a binary opposition.

At the end of the poem, it presents a promise and a warning to the speaker.

“All is,” isolated by an initial caesura, restates the “lot” concept of a multiplicitous future, setting it apart as the stake in the balance.

In regular iambic pentameter, the speaker evenly states, “if I have grace to use it so,” revealing a dependency on “the will of Heav’n” and the leadership of Time.

The last line of the sonnet breaks up the rhythm, stressing “great Task-Master’s eye.”

This is appropriate, considering that the appearance of “inward ripeness” is to be evaluated with the inner eye, and not the deceptive, outer reflection.

The speaker of Sonnet 7, over the course of the poem, moves from anxiety to inner peace.

This transformation is achieved through the acceptance of a passive role in relation to Time and Heaven.

Milton’s conclusion, however, poses several questions.

Fittingly, these concern the duality of the speaker’s redemption. If inner peace is contingent on the grace of God, why is the speaker’s own self-evaluation made to seem so important?

Likewise, if the speaker has achieved this transformation of attitude from the volta in line nine to the end, why is there a lingering question as to the certainty of “if I have grace”?

Punctuating these questions is the uncanny duality of “I” and “eye.”

Placed in such close proximity in the text, the distinction between these homophones is difficult to discern if heard aloud. Milton leaves us, ultimately, with a perplexing conclusion. Is the giver of grace just as multiplicitous as the life that receives it? A passive response, we have learned, keeps those questions at bay.

John Ewing

The Poetry of John Milton,

ENG 363

Prof. Richard “Val” LeClercq University

of Texas at Austin 1989

RVL – Yes, of course, you needed to elaborate further, especially on the verbal. But what you did do with the formal is quite good! And your thematic discussion is clearly the best in the class!

[dykesferatu]

Ok the scaling of suffering IN FFVIIR

Scaled suffering meaning isn't it almost more cruel to leave loved ones alive? In the war with Wutai when Zack was intentionally leaving Crescent Squadron members alive so that someone could go home and rebuild, with no consciousness of the remoteness of the memory of things lost to those who survived that can never be regained, places and people that are lost forever.

We see the repeated theme of asking others to carry the grief forward as they continue living, it's a central conceit for almost all of the main party.

We see Sephiroth in First Soldier on her first mission come face to face with Rosen who she intends to leave alive as the sole carrier of the memory of Rhadore and Rosen rejects this. He asks Sephiroth to kill him so he can be with his people; his home is burning, there's no going back and in fact Rosen turns this rejection into an ultimatum. If Sephiroth will continue trying to make Rosen live with the grief, Sephiroth will lose Matt, Lucia, and Glenn and will have her own grief to contend with.

In a way, attempting to leave no one alive at Nibelheim could have been Sephiroth's idea of mercy in this situation. Instead you have two people in Tifa and Cloud left to carry forward the memory of the massacre and the shape of the world before it occurred.

Obviously, when Sephiroth died in the reactor and was resurrected, there was no longer the possibility of sparing Cloud that grief, but grief doesn't exist without anger and anger loves to transmute into rage.

I think that having a group of people who have survived incredible violence also changes the scale of the perceived suffering that would be wrought by Meteor. Cloud and Tifa know that what happened to their friends and family wasn't, to borrow a term from Galen Strawson, instant, painless, and unexperienced annihilation. Grief rolled through in waves as homes burned to the ground and people met their end on Masamune, and though most of the individual grievers died that day, the compounded grief of knowing the depth of their final suffering lives in the two survivors.

Something very similar can be seen in Barrett who was forced to mourn Myrna, Eleanor, and other friends murdered by the corporation he turned to initially to minimize Myrna's suffering. When he returns to Corel he's unwelcome in the eyes of those who share his grief, and is ultimately sentenced by Dyne to continue dragging those memories forward with him.

Yuffie bears not only the horrors of being trapped in a war waged on her home including starvation, but the individual loss of Sonon which removes a final layer of abstraction from her survivorship. When she loses Sonon, it's not as another innumerable casualty in the ceaseless war on Wutai, it's in close proximity. It's under her care, on her mission, an arms reach away after Sonon has shared with her his own grief over his sister.

Aerith bears the grief of Ifalna from an very young age, and the more she learns of the Cetra and Jenova, the more burden she must bear as the last of her people. A mirror of Rosen in that.

It is interesting to me to have the slow death of the planet at the hands of a climate change analog juxtaposed with a near-rapturous event orchestrated by a kind of in-game divinity. At the macro scale both outcomes seen to their ultimate conclusion will have a roughly equivalent body count: all life on earth; however it is the staggering of these events that make the difference.

In the slow, mako-induced march toward an irretrievable future, the suffering of millions will continue to compound, added to by war, starvation, pollution, and class inequalities. Shinra will continue paving their road forward with the bodies of others with no regard to the grief they put into the world.

In the quick, violent burn of the planet under Meteor, theoretically the body count might actually be lower as no future generations would be born to die. Certainly this anti-natalist outlook is inconceivable to the main party who have seen, like a deer with a healed-over bullet wound in its side, the survivability of an imminent death. Cloud, Tifa, Barret and Yuffie, Aerith and Nanaki all know firsthand their own ghosts and compassionately would deny pushing their hauntings off on others, but refuse to accept the easy way out of the uncertainty of the future.

[dmasterxd]

What really makes the Blue Lions such interesting and well-written characters is how they’re bound by trauma. Of course, other houses also have characters who have sad or traumatic backstories, but the Blue Lions is the only one that it applies to the entire house. And it’s always so deeply rooted into the way that these characters act and why they do the things that they do.

Dimitri-Sole survivor of the Tragedy of Duscur. Lost his parents and dear friend. And then developed a severe case of PTSD to the point where he was haunted by illusionary ghosts of his loved ones to get revenge. And constantly fighting against himself to keep his darker tendencies reigned in.

Felix-Lost his older brother in the tragedy. And then growing to hate chivalry and lashing out against it in every way possible, and having to look at chivalrous concepts in the most cynical way to cope with Glenn’s death. Since Glenn himself highly valued chivalry.

Ingrid-Lost her fiancée (and close friend, feel like people forget about this aspect too much tbh) in the tragedy. And since she didn’t see his death and idolized Glenn so much had to force herself to believe that he died in an ideal way and wishing to replicate it herself.

Sylvain-Was already being tormented by his brother on multiple occasions and then lost a close friend and had to watch his other best friends struggle with their grief and trauma to the point of developing self-destructive tendencies. A behavior which he was most likely already exhibiting himself at that point.

Dedue-Lost his parents and sister. Had his race genocided. Has an extreme lack of self-worth due to the prejudice of his people. And accepts all of the hatred thrown at him in spite of him and most of Duscur being innocent because some Duscur people were involved.

Annette-Was abandoned by her father (due to the tragedy) and worked herself to the bone tirelessly for years in pursuit of finding him. To the point where it reaches extremely unhealthy levels. And she has to actively try to take it easy. Because she’s just become so accustomed to it.

Ashe-Lost his birth parents and had to turn to thievery to keep his younger siblings fed. His adoptive older brother was executed for conspiring in the tragedy. And due to Lonato adopting and saving him, Ashe develops an extremely idealistic perspective where he wants to help everyone and believe in the best in everyone, despite how things might seem.

Mercedes-Her father was a terrible person (don’t really want to get into that cause trigger warning stuff). And she and her mother had to escape leaving her little brother behind. Said little brother became a deranged serial killer who was beyond saving. And she has an extremely caring and motherly personality to all of her fellow Lions, probably due to the fact that she wasn’t able to save her brother, which she definitely regrets a lot.

They’re all such extremely broken, traumatized, and flawed individuals. But that’s exactly what makes them so interesting. These characters who’ve already been put through the ringer before the start of the story. And then are challenged even more during the story itself. It’s all the more satisfying when you see them push through together, overcome their flaws, and then end up victorious. The more adversity a character has, the more sweeter it is when they’re finally able to achieve their goals at the end. And that’s why, the Blue Lions are such an interesting and well-rounded house of fantastic characters.

Heck, same thing goes for Rodrigue, Gilbert, and Catherine. But I feel like this post is already too long as it is XD.

TL;DR: The Blue Lions and even Faerghus characters in general are extremely well-written.

[theteasetwrites]

The Revolving Door

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader ❧ Era: Season 5 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: scary situation, slightly graphic depictions of death ❧ Word Count: 3.7k

❧ Requested by anonymous

❧ Summary: A close call during a run leads you to have a bit of an existential crisis. One of the new guys comes to cheer you up a little bit.

❧ A/N: Finally back to oneshot requests! This was interesting to write. I really like dealing with more abstract concepts and how they relate to the show's plot, so I wanted to include that in this little story. Also Daryl is very soft in this oneshot, which we love to see. I just feel like if he's in love with someone (whether he knows it or not), he's going to be really soft and sweet with them, so that's that on that.

Even before the world ended, life moved with the shadow of death lingering not far behind. That was the way it was, how it always would be.

At age seven, your grandmother was diagnosed with cancer. That was your first taste—the realization that death could touch you, in some way. You developed an irrational fear that you would get cancer too, and you’d die before your life even began, before you even knew what death really was.

When you were fourteen, your cat died, the one who’d been in your family since before you were born. That was the first death, the first time the esoteric concept of the cessation of life spilled into your little world, and, as it always did, took.

Death took everything in the end, if not biological death, then decay, rot, corrosion… At least it was certain. The caveat was that it came at such inopportune times, without warning and lacking in the grace to allow time to grieve. When the world became what it is now, it only got worse, and death became not only certain, but constant, unyielding, waiting.

It was only a matter of time before it hit you, before a life was snuffed out right in front of you. No meaning, no comfort, no justice, just cold, unadulterated death.

That’s what Noah’s death was.

It wasn’t like you knew him, not really at all. He’d arrived with some group just days before the run. Aaron, Alexandria’s recruiter, had organized their arrival, and though they seemed much more hardened by the outside world, they seemed close-knit, and that signaled to you that they cared about each other. If they could care about each other, why couldn’t they care about Alexandria?

They proved they cared by volunteering to help with the power grid. It had been going down periodically since before the newcomers arrived, and finally it was deemed necessary to plan a supply run for spare parts.

Deanna assigned you to be a runner with Aiden, Spencer, and Nicholas long ago, not a week after you found the community with your own group. You were never particularly fond of any of them, especially Nicholas, who proved himself a coward time and again, often opting to save himself before any of his co-runners.

Still, it was an important job, and one you took seriously. You hadn’t lost anyone on any of your runs, and for that you were grateful. Things changed, though. They always did, eventually.

At some point, maybe when it was the moment you were trapped in that revolving door with Nicholas, surrounded by walkers on the other side of the glass, or maybe when the idiot shoved his body against the door to free himself, letting the walkers pull Noah to a gruesome, bloody death, you blacked out.

Shivering in terror at the sight before you, the one your mind could erase for a moment, but your eyes could never unsee, someone had pulled you out from the revolving door. You were sure it was Glenn, but the world became hazy after the screams faded and Noah’s body was dragged further into the sea of flesh-eating creatures, at once alive and dead, horrifically uncanny in their endless limbo.

Stuck in that revolving door, you were in that limbo, too. Just for a brief moment, you were stuck between life and death, unable to control just which direction that revolving door would take you in.

The bloodied hand that hit the glass in front of you woke you from your stupor for just a moment. Darting your eyes to the face of a young man being ripped apart, his mouth split open and the skin tearing until his jaw was separated, you screamed until there was no air left in your lungs and your throat felt like it was made of sandpaper.

Somewhere along those several moments of Hell, you went limp, lifeless except for your pried open eyes, stiff and petrified, yet glistening with fresh tears.

The infirmary was empty now as you sat with those thoughts, wondering how it all went wrong so fast.

Of course, it was Nicholas, and before that it was Aiden, who’d managed to get himself killed, but in your mind, there could’ve been something you could’ve done, at least to save Noah…

“Hey,” a gruff voice sounded from behind you.

You were still too out of it to hear, until he rested a gentle hand on your shoulder. Odd, considering how rough he seemed.

“You okay?”

You blinked your eyes and took in a deep breath when you realized he was talking to you. Who else could he be speaking to?

You sniffled and looked at him quickly before returning your gaze to your feet, dangling off the side of the infirmary bed.

“Fine,” you replied shortly.

Daryl, one of the newcomers, who knew Noah, studied the cut on your leg. Well, it was more of a gash. Had you been more lucid when they carried you to the infirmary, you’d have insisted upon saving the space for a more seriously injured patient, but alas, you were in shock, unable to move or speak until just this moment.

You could hardly remember even getting it. It must’ve been some piece of shrapnel that hit you during the minor explosion, the one that got Aiden killed, but besides a sharp pain in your thigh at the point of contact, you couldn’t feel it.

“Denise said you got cut,” he said. “Stitched you up but you didn’t even flinch. Either you’re real tough or somethin’ happened out there.”

“Didn’t Glenn tell you?” you asked. “Or Eugene?”

He shrugged, and tentatively sat himself down beside you. You stiffened a little at the sudden gesture, surprised that such a usually standoffish man would do such a thing. Now that you thought about it, why was he in here in the first place? You hardly knew him at all, and you’d only talked to him in passing, once when you tried to introduce yourself, and he all but ignored you, only looking you dead in the face and freezing upon the realization that you were talking to him, as if no one had ever asked him his name before.

“Heard somethin’,” he said, looking down at his hands in his lap. You ventured to study them, worn and grimy, with dirty fingernails and small cuts you could only assume might’ve had something to do with that crossbow he was always lugging around. He didn’t have it now, though. He was disarmed, and almost non-threatening for once. “Didn’t hear it from you, though.”

“Why would it matter if it comes from me or not?” you replied.

He gave you a serious look now, and somewhere in that face, you wondered if the phrase “of course it matters” was really embedded in there, or if you were just projecting it there like a blank canvas. Nevertheless, he seemed more understanding than anyone who’d spoken to you since that afternoon.

“I know what happened,” he said finally, after several moments of just looking at you. “I wanna know what happened out there… to you.”

A brief moment in time, but suddenly lightyears passed before you, in that man’s eyes. How could that happen? How could worlds beyond your wildest dreams be nestled deep in those clear cerulean-colored irises? How could every answer to life and death and everything in between even be clearer than it was now?

You didn’t know what came over you, maybe it was just how strangely profound it was to be looking in his eyes, to feel his body so close to yours, radiating whatever power it had over you, but you felt overcome with emotion then, and upon recalling the event, you broke—sobbing before the man you barely knew, and holding your head in your hands as you wept.

“I—I saw him… get ripped apart… bitten…”

The sobs distorted your speech, and you let out various gasps and whimpers between each word as tears soaked your cheeks and even dripped from your chin onto your lap, where Daryl’s hand held yours.

Perhaps you didn’t notice it at first, in your crying state, but it was a featherlight touch, as he had hardly a grip on your shaky hand. Just a slight feeling of warmth hovering there, not suffocating you, just there.

“You didn’t need to see that,” he said quietly, a gentle tone to his voice, which usually seemed so gruff and coarse. “No one does.”

“I was in that revolving door, with them, with Nicholas… I could’ve—could’ve tried to stop him. I—I mean I did but… but he just kept pushing… and pushing… trying to get himself out, letting the other side open up to the…”

You shook your head, raising your other hand to wipe your tears. “God, I tried. I did… Your friend died because of my people.”

Though you hardly even considered Nicholas your “people” at this point, he was an Alexandrian, and a coward who got Noah killed.

“Hey,” he said, leaning forward to try to see some part of your face as you looked down, “it wasn’t your fault. You did what you could. You tried. That’s all that matters. It just… happened.”

You sniffled, looking up and getting lost again in Daryl’s face, looking at it as if to find some relief to your pain.

“We always think there was somethin’ we could’ve done,” he said, training his eyes on yours. “Truth is, death comes for us all, don’ give a warning or nothing, just… just shows up, and in a second, they’re gone. Nothin’ you can do about it, ‘cept try to stop it, and you did. Nicholas… Noah’s death is on him, not you.”

He bit his lip as he watched the tears continue to trickle down your face, and soon berated himself internally for not getting you a tissue.

“Here,” he said, jumping up from the bed and crossing the room to grab a box of tissues. He pulled out several, and a wad of small white sheets entered your field of vision as he held them out to you. “No one should cry without a tissue.”

You mustered a small, half smile, just the corner of your mouth curving gently. “Thanks… Daryl.”

He nodded, and set the box of tissues on the bedside table before sitting back down beside you. You couldn’t believe he was still there, but unbeknownst to you, he wasn’t going anywhere, not when the woman who had this mysterious hold over him since he first saw her was sitting in the infirmary, hurting in more ways than one.

“S’nothin’,” he said, shifting awkwardly as he cleared his throat.

When the tears began to subside, you saw him more clearly, and you couldn’t help but smile a little wider at him, and the fact that he was sitting by you again, holding your hand.

Even he hadn’t noticed he’d done it this time, even holding your hand a little tighter now, but it felt so good he didn’t really mind. Odd, since touch often disturbed him, even confused him. Here, touching you in just the simplest way, it was a comforting touch, one that made sense.

“Have you ever seen it before?” he asked. “Someone die?”

You licked your lips in thought. “No, not like that. I’ve seen people come back from the outside, with bites… They would die from the fever, and we’d have to put them down.” Shaking your head at the memory, you saw Noah’s face again, seconds before the rotting hands grasped at his flesh and clawed at the skin of his face until he was reduced to shreds. “I’ve never seen someone get eaten alive by walkers. I guess that makes me kind of lucky, huh? To have gone this long without seeing it.”

“Nah,” he said. “No one’s lucky or unlucky, not anymore. Like I said, shit just happens.”

You took a deep breath and dabbed at the incoming tears, then reached over Daryl’s lap to grab another tissue from the box. “It could’ve been me,” you said. “I could’ve been the one to die instead of Noah in that revolving door. Had things turned out differently, just a millisecond of something else happening, he’d be sitting here, and I’d be…”

“That’s just life, ain’t it?” he said after you trailed off. “Can’t go back… Least you’re here now. I don’t know… philosophy, or anything like that, but I know they’re dead and we ain’t. It ain’t always right, but someone’s gonna live, and someone’s gonna die.”

“You think in black and white, don’t you?” you asked, slightly amused by his outlook. You wished it could be that simple. “I think it’s more like we’re not alive or dead, kind of like walkers… We teeter on the edge of death, and yet we live, right?”

“Guess so.”

You shrugged and wiped your nose with another tissue. “I don’t know, it doesn't even matter. Just another way to cope with something we don’t understand.”

He licked his lips as he watched you slightly peel back your bandage on your thigh. The cut seemed rather deep, close to causing nerve damage, as Denise had told him. Upon seeing Nicholas struggling to keep you steady as you walked with him through the gates, his world centered around you. Perhaps he’d underestimated his affections for you before that, but if he denied it at all now, he’d be fooling himself.

“I’m just glad you’re all right,” he said, stumbling over his words a little as they poured out of his mouth.

You smiled bashfully at him, brushing back your hair subconsciously. “Well, thanks. I guess I’m glad, too. I’d just feel a whole lot better if everyone came back home. That’s how it always should be.”

It terrified you to think that one day would be your last in Alexandria, that you’d go out on another run and never come back, like Noah had. That fear would never go away, but something in this moment made it feel all right, like it was just another part of life, and as long as you had moments like this, death could never touch you.

“I’ve lost a lot of people,” he said. “Lot of good people. It don’t ever get easier. It just don’t… but if nothin’ else, it kinda reminds ya that… I don’t know, life is…” He struggled to think of the word, raising his head and staring at the ceiling in slight embarrassment of his lack of grace with words at times.

You smiled. “Precious?” you asked.

He raised an eyebrow and looked at you with a crooked smile. “Yeah, precious, I guess.” He cleared his throat, realizing “precious” wasn’t the most “manly” word he could say in front of you. “Life is precious.”

Several minutes of silence passed, as somewhere along the line you felt so comfortable in Daryl’s presence, despite how much it bewildered you, that even just sitting there with him felt like getting to know him. He had this aura about him, this glow that heated you up from the inside out. It was unlike anything else you’d really felt before, and it was exactly what you needed to begin to heal from this tragedy.

If you could’ve spent all night there, just next to him, you would’ve.

“You should go home now,” he said, noticing your yawns getting closer and closer in interval. “Come on, I’ll walk ya.”

“Oh, it’s just across the street.”

“I know,” he said, rising to his feet and outstretching his hand to help you up. “It’s dark out.” You tilted your head, amused by how ostensibly protective he was, even in a community of people who all knew each other and looked out for one another. He cleared his throat, noticing your soft smile. It was almost dizzying how beautiful you were to him. “And, uh… that leg ain’t gonna get ya very far. Come on, I’ll help ya.”

You rolled your shoulders in flattery at his chivalry. It was very cute, you had to admit. He was quite cute, too… Handsome, if a little scruffy. He could use a hot bath, a bit of shampoo in that messy hair, a fresh change of clothes...

“What a gentleman,” you said, taking his hand and rising to feel his arm wrap around your waist, to which you blushed at the rather sudden gesture. You weren’t that injured, but you weren’t going to say anything, because you liked his strong arm around you.

He blushed a little at your words, too, and cleared his throat as he walked out with you. “Just… couldn’t let ya walk on your own like this.”

Of course, he knew you were capable of walking, and that Alexandria was safe enough for you to walk home on your own, but even the idea of something bad happening to you, combined with the strange desire to spend as much time with you as possible, and maybe just a hint of wanting to hold you for a few minutes, drove him to be a little more chivalrous than he needed to be.

“Mhm,” you hummed, stepping down with him off the porch, his eyes trailed on your feet and making sure you didn’t miss a step the whole time. “Well, I appreciate it. Actually, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me today.”

He looked at you curiously, still guiding you across the empty street to your house. “What else did I do?”

“You visited me,” you said, as if it were obvious. “You made me feel better. In another life, you could’ve been a psychiatrist.”

He laughed heartily, the first time you’d ever heard such a sound from the usually serious man. The warm lilt to his chuckle was the stuff dreams were made of, airy and light, with a touch of depth to it, as there was always more than meets the eye with him, you concluded after that night.

“Never thought someone would ever say I’d make a good shrink,” he said, helping you up the steps to your house, with a drop in his stomach at the idea that he’d have to leave you now. “Almost sounded like a compliment.”

You laughed as you turned the knob of your front door, and he let go of you, rather reluctantly.

“It was,” you said. “It means you’re nice to talk to.”

Never in his life had anyone said that to him. At least, not someone like you, sweet and pure. Every bone in his body turned to mush when you looked at him, and the thought of you in so much danger that day made him more hopeless and frightened than he’d ever been before.

Even seeing you cry, knowing that such a horrible sight plagued your mind, made him want to be by your side, to be whatever you needed to keep the sights and sounds of a cruel, hostile world of death at bay.

“Well, uh… Maybe we should talk more,” he said, hedging his bets that you really did like to talk to him, though it seemed like a bit of a long shot. “If ya want to, of course. And, if ya ever need anythin’, I’m just over there.” He turned to point towards the house he had been assigned, the one he shared with Rick and a few of the others in his group.

You were transfixed, though, on his face, admiring his side profile and feeling that warmth again inside of you. He really did care.

“Thanks, Daryl,” you said, folding your arms over your chest against the chill of the night air. “I’d love to talk to you again… And, um… I’m here for you, too. My door’s always open. Well, metaphorically.”

He nodded with that same small half-smile. “All right, well I’ll see ya later… And keep your head up.”

“I will.”

You watched him begin to walk away, until he stopped in his tracks and lifted his head. “Oh,” he said, and turned around swiftly, digging into his jean pocket. “Uh, here.” He pulled a wad of bright white tissues from his pocket. You saw him stuff them in there from the box just as you were leaving the infirmary, and you raised an eyebrow at the gesture as he held them out for you. “In case ya have to cry again… I mean, if you want ‘em.”

You smiled, feeling tears begin to form again, and a few already dripping down your cheek. “Thank you, Daryl.” You took the tissues, and immediately dabbed your cheek. “You’re very sweet.”

His breath hitched and his back straightened, and you were sure you might’ve seen another blush bloom upon his cheeks. “Ahem, well, uh… goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

As it happened, you did need the tissues again, because you couldn’t stop thinking of that day, those horrible moments you were trapped in that revolving door, that twilight zone between life and death, where any sudden shift could result in the door giving way to either side.

You happened to make it, and Noah didn’t. It wasn’t your fault, you had to realize, but it happened, and you were still here.

Death was still there, too, waiting in the wings, like it always had been, even before. When your cat died, when your grandma got sick… It was always there, like an old friend, one you could catch up with after a long time of not seeing each other, and yet it wouldn’t feel like a day had passed, and you could just pick up where you left off.

It didn’t mean that it wasn’t a tragedy, that it didn’t hurt, or torment you, but it could make you appreciate the revolving door of life, the… precious nature of it all, with life as fragile and easily taken away as it was, and would always be.

Daryl, that quiet, serious man from outside the walls, reminded you of that, of how important it was to have those little moments that made life as precious as it was.

You kept one of those unused tissues in your bedside table drawer, sentimental as you were. You told yourself you were keeping it for a rainy day, when the tears came pouring down like they had that evening, but really, you knew why you kept it. It was Daryl.

He was right—no one should cry without a tissue.

~

Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments of any kind are always appreciated!

[twdeadfanfic]

Vows Pt.6

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Series Summary:

The last battle with Negan doesn’t go as it should, with Negan coming on top, and so reader, Daryl’s girlfriend, offers herself as a wife to Negan if he doesn’t kill Daryl or anyone else. Negan accepts, he won’t kill anyone but will take reader as a wife, and he’ll take Daryl and some of the others to the Sanctuary as prisoners, promising not to hurt anyone if reader is one of his wives and the communities work for him.

This has both flashbacks to reader and Daryl’s story since meeting to now, and the present with reader living at the Sanctuary as a wife, trying to keep Daryl and their people safe, and she and the other wives dealing with Negan, plotting… (This is not a Negan x reader fic!)

Warning, there are reader and Negan scenes in this chapter, but to make up for it, there’s also a flashback from when reader and Daryl got together.

Another few days passed, blurring with each other, and though your time with Negan still didn’t feel like routine, and you were pretty sure it’d never feel like that, you felt more and more like you wanted to take advantage of the situation and Negan’s crotch-driven brain like the other wives did…but you still weren’t good at playing him and keeping him happy as they did. Your biggest achievements were that you hadn’t slapped him again and that you hadn’t spat on him, which didn’t count much towards gaining likable points.

Finally, you decided to just go and ask for help. Abby was in the room that she shared with Frankie, while Frankie was in the main room watching one of the DVDs. You went to the room and flopped down next to Abby.

“I want to ask something from Negan,” you blurted out and Abby arched an eyebrow at you.

“What do you need? Maybe I can get it for you.”

“You can’t…” You let out a sigh. “I want to ask him to let my friend out of the cages sometimes.” They had been in there for days and days, they weren’t tortured, but it was pretty awful anyway.

“Pfff…yeah, no, you’re not getting it,” Abby said and you couldn’t even be annoyed. “I mean…don’t be mad. But you agreed to marry him, listen to him, and fuck him, and he doesn’t kill or torture your friends…he’s kept his end of the deal but…you barely keep yours, I’ve seen you just staring at nothing while he talks. We all think on something else while he talks and talks, but we smile and pretend to listen.” Abby chuckled.

“Yeah…yeah, I know…” You murmured…you felt like you had done enough by not snapping at him but you were supposed to pretend to be enraptured by whatever bullshit was he saying, and you…really didn’t feel like it.

“Also, fucking him…” Abby gave you a teasing look. “I bet you just lie there like a starfish…”

“Abby!” You gaped at her, flustered, and pushed her so she’d fall on the pillow. “Shut up!” She was laughing and you couldn’t help your own. “What do you want me to do, moan how good he is and what a big boy is he?” You snorted, that wasn’t you, even if it weren’t Negan.

“Actually, yes.” Abby chuckled. “But don’t go getting all crazy the next time he calls you, after being a starfish for weeks, he’ll know you’re trying to play him.”

You let out a sigh. “I really don’t think I can do it…”

“You can.” Abby squeezed your hand. Just…just start small, baby steps. Like, if he decides to talk to you, pretend that that time it’s something that interests you. If he makes a joke, let out a chuckle…like, maybe you didn’t mean to, you were trying not to laugh, but it was too funny even for grumpy you and you let out a chuckle against your will because he’s oh so funny he even made you laugh?”

You blinked at her. “Abby…there’s no way I can pull off that. It’s going to look staged, I’m going to look like a robot, it’s not going to be natural, he’s going to notice.”

“Just try.” Abby shrugged. “Is not that hard.”

“Yeah…I don’t know how you do it…”

You decided to try it, though, and so the next time that Negan was talking about something, you forced yourself to ask a question about it, as if you were interested in listening. Negan seemed confused and then pleased, as he turned his attention to you, talking to you about it, and you forced yourself to look like you were interested in it.

The next day, you tried to follow Abby’s idea, and when Negan said one of his stupid jokes, you let out a short and quiet chuckle, and Negan looked at you, arching an eyebrow.

“Well now…did I make Mss. Grumpy laugh?”

“No,” you scoffed, looking away, pretending that you hadn’t laughed on purpose but against your will.

“Oh…I’d say I did…” A smug grin spread across Negan’s face. “You laughed, sweetcheeks.”

“Yes, I saw it too,” Abby said, winking at you.

“Yeah…yeah, she did…” Negan kept looking at you with that smug face and you scoffed again, looking away, pretending to be embarrassed.

You kept that up, pretending to be interested in whatever Negan had to say, chuckling at some of his stupid jokes, for another couple of days, until Abby told you that you could try another step…you weren’t very sure you could though.

The idea now was to kiss back Negan whenever he kissed you, as if you really wanted to kiss him, and you weren’t sure if you could pull off that…

“Come on…pretend that you’re an actress, pretend to be someone else,” Abby tried to encourage you. “Some sort of seductress…” She winked at you and you snorted, shaking your head.

“I’m really not that…”

“Just pretend to be, you’re not yourself, you’re this hot seductress black widow…” Abby kept going, nudging you when you snorted again. “Come on…you must have seduced your man, I’m sure you’re more of a seductress than you think.”

“I’m really not…” You shrugged. “And Daryl…I don’t think I ever seduced him…”

Not even the first time that you’d tried to get with him, you had just gone ahead and kissed him, much to his shock…

Then…

You were at the CDC, sat down on the table after eating more food than you’d ever eaten since walkers began roaming the world. Everyone was happy, eating and drinking, celebrating, including Daryl. He was joking and drinking, smiling, you didn’t think you’ve seen him grinning like that before, and you had to admit that you liked it, he had a pretty smile, that seemed to light his whole face, the whole place, even…

You chuckled at yourself…what a bunch of corny shit, as Daryl would say, had you just thought. But it was true, Daryl was an attractive guy , there was no way of denying it, and it wasn’t the first time that you admired him.

You’d grown closer to him, during your weeks surviving together, and during the quiet nights at the quarry, or at least quiet when Merle shut up and fell asleep, in which you sat down next to Daryl in comforting silence, and sometimes you both even spoke…

Daryl could be a prick more often than not, he was harsh, sure he was. Just a day ago, you had a big, big fight with him, when he’d behaved like a prick after walkers attacked the quarry camp, when so many people had died…Even if you had tried to put in context that Daryl seemed to have just lost his brother, he’d been out of line, yelling those cruel things to everyone, as if he was heartless…but you knew he wasn’t heartless, you had seen his heart, how he seemed not to care, yet always helped you, how he strived to hunt and bring as much food as possible to the camp…but at that moment, he’d seemed to be a heartless asshole, and you’d been beyond upset and angry at him.

To your surprise, though, while you were packing your things, Daryl had gone to help you in silence, but you saw him stealing glances at you, and you thought he seemed remorseful. Later, you both had driven to the CDC in the pickup, sharing some words here and there, and if you were honest with yourself, you didn’t want to be upset with Daryl. He seemed regretful, and so you had tried to move past your fight.

It was easy to forget about that now, with him smiling like that, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. Yes…Daryl was an attractive guy, with those beautiful eyes, strong shoulders and arms…For a while now, you had idly thought now and then what it’d be like to have those arms wrapped around you, when you felt lonely, or sad, or lost, when your spirit was low…

It wasn’t just that he was attractive, though. If Daryl were a complete prick, you wouldn’t be wondering stuff like that, no matter how attractive he might be…but for weeks, you’d been wondering and thinking that Daryl was more than it seemed under all those layers of harshness…

As he drank and smiled now, teasing Glenn and just joking around, you couldn’t help a warm feeling in your belly, that got worse when you looked at Lori and Rick…you wanted that, or the closest thing possible, even if it was just for a night, but you didn’t want it with anyone, you wanted it with Daryl.

You weren’t sure how he’d react, though, or how to bring it up…what were you supposed to tell him? Do you want to hold me? We could even sleep together? Yeah…no…

Later, you walked with him back to your rooms for the night, still wondering how to ask Daryl, how to tell him what was in your head, if maybe it was a bad idea…but you really wanted it… His room was next to yours, and you called his name before he walked into his, still with no idea of what to say.

“Daryl…” You called for him, and he turned to look at you, arching an eyebrow. He smiled and it made something twirl in your belly… “I, uh…I was wondering…” That smile was just making it harder to focus and find words.  “How much have you drunk?”

Daryl snorted at that. “Dunno…more than in a while, why?”

“Just wondering if you’re drunk…I mean, you are…” You chuckled awkwardly. “But I mean, you know what you’re doing…right?” Otherwise, you wouldn’t try anything.

“I know what I’m doing.” Daryl was looking at you, seeming half confused half amused. “Might get drunker, though.” He waved the bottle of booze that he’d taken with him. “You wanna?” He lifted the bottle in your direction.

“No…no, I was thinking…wondering…” It couldn’t be that hard, why were you struggling to find words. “If maybe you wanted to…like…sleep in my room…” Well, sleep with you, rather, but those words didn’t make it past your lips.

Daryl frowned, and you were sure he was going to tell you off, but he seemed concerned. “You think this place ain’t safe?” Oh…he thought you were scared of sleeping alone in the room or that you didn’t trust the place…it was nice of him, to offer to stay with you if you were scared… Maybe you should content yourself with that…

“No…well, I don’t know, that doctor is a bit strange, but I don’t think that he’s going to murder us in our sleep…right?” Now that you had planted the seed in your brain, you couldn’t help but worry.

Daryl snorted. “Don’t think so…but yeah, there’s somethin’ off with the guy…Alright, if you wanna I can take watch while you sleep.” Daryl shrugged, looking down shyly.

“That’s not fair, you gotta sleep too, even more after all you drank…” You didn’t want Daryl not to sleep, in fact, you wanted him sleeping with those nice arms around you, and the fact that this night he seemed to have decided to be all caring and sweet wasn’t helping. “But…I didn’t mean that…what I mean…”

You felt stupid, struggling with words like that, and Daryl was looking at you with those caring and pretty eyes, and so you decided to just go ahead and show him, feeling braver with actions than with words. You stepped closer and leaned to peck his lips, feeling all kind of butterflies in your belly.

When you pulled back, Daryl looked at you with wide, surprised eyes. He seemed to want to say something, but no words made it past his lips as he just stared at you in shock, and you felt your cheeks heating up. “I’m sorry…I just…I didn’t…I…I’m sorry…” You rushed into your room, closing the door behind you, embarrassed…Daryl wasn’t drunk enough to not remember it in the morning, but you’d try to pretend that you’d been drunk and you didn’t remember that you had kissed him…this was going to be so awkward…

You face planted on the bed and you winced, that mattress was harder than you expected it. You shifted until you could bury your face on the pillow, the closest thing you can get to the earth swallowing you. Not much later, though, there were some knocks on the door.

You frowned and went to open the door, and when you found Daryl there, you almost freaked out. You didn’t know what to say, and Daryl wasn’t saying anything either, just looking at you as he chewed on his thumbnail, but then he made to walk in, and you automatically moved back so he could step into the room.

Daryl closed the door behind him and looked at you, still silent, and when you were about to ask if he needed something, awkward, he finally spoke.

“Why you did that?”

“Wha…kissing you?” You felt your cheeks heating again, and Daryl nodded, looking down. You considered saying that you were drunk, but Daryl didn’t seem mad…and so you decided to be brave and say the truth, if he reacted badly, you could keep your plan of pretending to have been drunk once morning came. “I just…I felt like it, I wanted to…”

Daryl was back at chewing his thumbnail, looking down, but then he glanced at you. “Yeah?” He murmured, and you nodded.

Daryl stepped closer at you and your heart sped up. His face was serious, and you wished you knew what was he thinking, but you couldn’t read him. Then, he leaned down and surprised you by pressing his lips to yours. Butterflies bloomed in your stomach, and for a second, you were so shocked that you couldn’t kiss him back, but when you did, you felt Daryl’s hand cupping your cheek, fingers tangling in your hair, and you moved closer, wrapping your arms around him…

Now…

You had thought, back then, that it’d be a one-night thing between Daryl and you, unless he might want to join you any other night, but nothing else…you had been wrong. Since the next morning, Daryl had pretty much started treating you as if you were his girlfriend, and on your side, you weren’t about to complain, you had enjoyed it…little did you know, then, how deep and strong your relationship with Daryl would become.

But…you couldn’t say that you had “seduced” Daryl. You had just kissed him and hoped for the best. That wouldn’t work with Negan, considering that he kissed you whenever he wanted…maybe you should really start by kissing him back…

The next time that Negan kissed you, you forced yourself to kiss him back. Nothing spectacular, but you guessed that it was better than standing there frozen…

The other girls began sharing tips with you too, and also they’d try to boost your confidence in your seducing skills, either with words and tips, or dolling you up, doing your hair, makeup, choosing revealing outfits that you’d have never worn…every time that they did, you looked at yourself in the mirror, telling yourself that you weren’t you, but another woman, some sexy, seductive, black widow, on her way to eating another man for breakfast…

It was still hard to feel like that, though, you felt rather silly more often than not, but as you keep trying, practicing, and you kept looking so different from your usual self, you began to play your part better and better.

After a few days, you laughed at Negan’s bullshit and kissed him back easier, even tried to talk more “seductively” as some of the other girls were trying to teach you, even if you felt silly. In your head, you tried to see yourself as that other woman, that seductress, black widow, until one day you felt ready to try your luck and your skills at asking something from Negan.

You were sat down on his bed, half lying against the headboard, in which you hoped was a suggestive, seducing posture, even if you felt stupid, when the door opened and Negan walked inside, arching an eyebrow at you.

“So…they weren’t kidding when they said you were waiting for  me here…”

“I didn’t think it’d bother you…” You shrugged. “I wanted to see you alone.”

“Yeah?” Negan smirked, but he still seemed confused at what were you doing there. “You were alone with me a couple of days ago, but you need me again, don’t you?” He teased smugly and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“I do need you,” you said, hoping to sound seductive. “I need…I need to ask you something.”

“Oh…there it is.” Negan chuckled, shaking his head and sitting on the bed. “You girls, always wanting something from me…sucking me dry and not in the way I want it.”

“We do suck you in the way you want it too,” you retorted and Negan let out a laugh.

“Yeah…that’s true…” Negan smirked, looking you up and down. “So tell me, doll…what is it.”

“I…” You tried to go back to when you’d rehearsed it with Abby. “I think I’ve been a good girl, so I deserve a treat, right?” You felt more silly than seductive speaking like that, but Negan just nodded, still looking at you with that smug smile. “I want…I want chocolate, I know you have some here…please?”

Negan blinked at you, and then he chuckled. “Chocolate? That’s what you wanted?”

You shrugged. “I love chocolate…we had some in Alexandria…please?”

“Chocolate…” Negan chuckled again…you guessed that he’d expected you to ask something more serious, but you wanted to wait for that until you had tried this first. “Of course, sweetcheeks, you’ve been a good girl these last days, I’ll get you your treat.” He reached out to stroke your hair and cup your face, and you did your best to smile. “You wait here, I’ll get it for you right now.”

Negan kissed you and you kissed him back as you had trained yourself to do. He got up from the bed and left the room, and you took a deep breath once the door closed behind him. It had gone well, you thought, Negan seemed to like how you were behaving lately and he’d gone to get you the chocolate right at that moment…but sure, chocolate wasn’t the same than letting your people out of the cages…But still, it was progress…

Negan came back, that smug smirk on his face as soon as he walked in, waving a bar of chocolate. “Your treat.”

“Thank you, Negan.” You smiled as he walked towards the bed.

“Come here,” he told you, and you shifted closer. He tore the envelope from the bar and broke a piece of chocolate. “Open your mouth.”

You stopped yourself from rolling your eyes and did as told. Negan placed the piece of chocolate in your mouth, smiling, and as you savored the sweetness, you closed your eyes and moaned aloud, even if you felt silly.

“Good girl,” Negan purred, and you opened your eyes to find him smirking at you. He broke another piece of chocolate and you opened your mouth as he wanted. This time, though, he kept one of his fingers in your mouth when he placed the chocolate. You knew what he wanted, and so you stopped yourself from bitting him as you wanted, and instead sucked on his finger.

Negan chuckled, pulling his hand back, and you forced yourself to moan again while you savored the chocolate. You hoped that all this show was good for something…although, the chocolate was nice, at least.

Negan moved to sit on the bed too, against the headboard. “Come here,” he said as he waved another piece of chocolate, and you crawled between his legs, opening your mouth so he’d give you the chocolate. You closed your eyes, enjoying it, and Negan chuckled. “You really do love chocolate.”

“Well….you know what they say…” You shrugged. “Chocolate is better than sex.”

Negan smirked at that. “Nah…better than sex with the redneck dog, you mean. Better than with me? No way.” He chuckled, and you almost dropped your façade, barely resisting the urge to punch him. Instead, you snapped the chocolate bar from his hand, and Negan chuckled again, seeming amused at you. “Now I wonder…how’s our dog Daryl in bed, uh?”

“I don’t want to talk about that…” You muttered, bitting off some chocolate, trying your best to behave, even if you didn’t feel like you could keep playing the seductress that day…you just wanted Negan to shut up.

“Come on, doll, don’t get mad…” Negan chuckled, taking back the chocolate bar and bitting a piece too. “I’m just saying…I know I’m better than him.” You barely stopped yourself from scoffing, and you remained silent, trying to hide how upset you were.  “Come on…” Negan broke another piece of chocolate and waved it in front of your face. “Say it, or you won’t get your treat.”

Once again, you stopped yourself from rolling your eyes. “Yes, Negan, you’re the best ever, even better than chocolate.” You knew that Negan could tell you didn’t mean it, but he seemed amused anyway. He smirked, popping the chocolate piece in his mouth instead of yours.

“Good girl,” he purred, giving you that chocolate bar and another unopened. “There you have your treat, don’t eat it all at once,” he chuckled. “Now, put those aside and come here to see that I am better than chocolate indeed.”

*

Operation let’s try to play Negan without getting killed is on. I wonder how it’ll go.

If you enjoyed this, comments and reblogs are always more than welcome, thanks.

Also, as always, excuse my English, it’s not my first language.

New taglist for Daryl, if you want to be tagged let me know and also, please, if you are not interested in being tagged anymore let me know too (I have way more people tagged than notes this gets and it makes me feel a bit down).

@jodiereedus22​​ @coffeebooksandfandom​​  @gruffle1​​ @twdeadlysins​​ @yenne-yen-illustrations​​ @mychemicalimagines​​   @haleypearce​​    @superflannel​​ @sourwolf-sterek32​​ @angelontheinside​​  @firehoopinmama​​ @lonewolf471​​   @hopplessdreamer​​ @daryldixonandfrogs​​  @fanfictionsilove​​   @collecting-stories​​ @princessxpunk​​ @hells-mistress​​ @justyouraveragefangirl1967​​ @carnationworld​​    @smiithys​​ @polkadottedpillowcase​​ @elisdays​​ @mysterious-398​​  @captainbuckyboobear​​   @dazzledamazon​​   @spidergirla5​​ @lilythemadqueen​​ @lightning-butterfly​​ @purplebtsmagic​​ @barra-cudaaa​​   @courtnytrash04​​ @amazingapricot​​      @seizethesam​​ @harpersmariano​​  @eternalslingshot​​  @fuseburner​​ @phoenixblack89​​  @boywivlove​​  @amaroho​​ @woundmetender​​  @classyunknownlover​​ @masterninjacow​​ @tenderlyunlikelyexpert​​ @shadowfoxey​​ @kaitieskidmore1​​ @lilac-day-dreaming​​ @datidixon​​ @sabrinabernal​​  @nj01​​ @rachelxwayne​​  @elamy17​​  @angelofthor @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​​ @thanossexual​​ @daryldixonstorm​​​ @sttrawberries​​ @huffledor-able541​​ @lucillethings​​ @browneyes528​​ @soraitmnt​​​  @thereshallbenoother​​​ @chickenparmandstoicvulcans​​​ @leej2468​​​  @heartlessmarvello​​​ @itsmeempar​​​  @redneckstrash​​​ @bxxbxy​​​ @bitchynicole​​​ @pulplorrd​​​  @supernatural79impala​​​  @the-artistic-animal-lover​​​   @selfsun​​​ @thiccblondeliv​​​ @maggie-l-m​​​ @baseballbitch116​​​ @tranquiiit​​​ @sweatywildpanda​​​ @supernatural79impala​​ @theteaset​​​  @amaroho​​​ @my-current-fandom-is​​​ @sapphire1727​​​ @sapphire-angel​​​  @insidetoughcake @whitexwingedxdoves​​​ @nickangel13​​​ @oceans-daughter-3​​​  @tuttifuckinfruttifriday​

[lananiscorner]

FE3H - Azure Moon - Character tidbits I loved - part 1

I was originally going to do a “Random bits I loved about chapter 14″ post first, but then I saw that tumblr did actually push through the post I thought I had lost when my account was temporarily terminated, so if you’re interested in those takes, follow this link. For now, I want to talk about the character tidbits I loved most about chapter 13 and 14. Spoilers: this will be 90% Dimitri hours, so I am tucking those beneath a cut.

1) First of two non-Dimitri things: Ferdinand. I was quite shocked to see him so vulnerable and full of doubt at the start of chapter 14, but I love it. Don’t worry, Ferdie--this playthrough will end well for you:

2) Second surprise was Felix--not the fact that he is being abrasive, that’s just Tuesday for him, but rather how utterly horrified he is by what Dimitri has become. You can truly tell that Dimitri is someone he liked immensely and whose transformation into a vengeful murderer crushes Felix:

And now, Dimitri hours beneath the cut:

3) First thing that stands out is something that I also love about Dimitri: he is aware of how much damage he is doing, how cruel and horrifying his behavior is, and what consequences are likely to await him for it... but he makes no excuses. This is shown best in his scene with Randolph. Yes, he gives explanations for why he has becoming a monster (and we’ll get to those in a bit), but he does not use them as excuses. There is a difference and Dimitri knows it.

4) Picking up on that conversation with Randolp, I find it fascinating that he says Dimitri could never understand love... when literally all his murderous actions are motivated by compassion, which is in itself a form of love. We first see this with his explanation for why he’s going to cut down the thieves in chapter 13--it is not a decision born of the joy of killing, but rather of the desire to protect. Also note how Dimitri uses the word “must” here. As little interest as he has in being king at this time, Dimtiri was raised to be a king and with Faerghus’ general emphasis on duty, one can see how he came to this conclusion:

5) And secondly, there is Dimitri’s love/compassion and sense of duty towards the dead--his father, his stepmother, Glenn, everyone who died at Duscur. The last chapter of White Clouds already hinted at Dimitri suffering from auditory hallucinations, but is here that we learn that they are not only auditory, but visual hallucinations as well, and you can tell from his dialogue how much a strain they take on his psyche. Dimitri has been suffering from untreated, trauma-induced psychosis for 9 years at this point. His desire to kill Edelgard is not a selfish quest for revenge (you took them from me, now you pay), but a quest to honor the dead by fulfilling what Dimitri believes to be their last wishes, and a desperate attempt to rid himself of the hallucinations that torment him:

6) Finally, I want to end this on a more positive note, which is that even as early as the second post-timeskip chapter, Dimitri already shows signs of not having lost all of his humanity. When Randolph charges at the Blue Lions, Dimitri’s first thought is not “off with his head”--it’s to warn Byleth so they will not get hurt. Dimitri’s motivator is not selfish desire--it is duty and compassion.

[sleepysnk]

this wasn't requested, but i love zombie au's! so since i got bored, i decided to make these headcanons! i hope you all enjoy! ♡

Surviving a zombie apocalypse with Eren, Armin, Jean, and Reiner hcs

Warnings: None

Eren Jaeger:

- ok wow surviving an apocalypse with this guy would be very hectic, and interesting.

- this guy would be always in some type of situation that could get everyone killed.

- he's a HOT HEAD if someone messed with his group, he'd be so hostile.

- Eren would be decent at killing zombies.

- he could easily kill them, but sometimes he would struggle.

- he would have this drive inside of him, like he does in the show.

- Eren would probably risk his life for somebody.

- he'd be like Rick Grimes from TWD.

- Eren always believes that there will be a place where his group could survive, and stay without any issues.

- he'd strive to do better.

- legit he would go out and kill zombies when he doesn't have to.

- as the apocalypse continued and he got older, he became more numb.

- like he does in the manga, he does so much to survive.

- it scared a lot of people.

- "it isn't about the zombies anymore, it's about humans too"

- he gets a lot of blood on his hands.

- Eren becomes so great, and will do anything to stay alive.

Armin Arlert:

- Armin would be very useful in the apocalypse being honest.

- he would be very very smart.

- Armin got his group out of a lot of shitty situations where they almost died.

- he'd know how to navigate very well.

- he'd be like a Glenn from TWD.

- Armin uses a lot of strategies to get out of certain issues.

- he may be smart, but this boy is terrified of zombies.

- he can't really kill them very well.

- it's usually other people coming to his defense, and helping him out.

- this would make him very insecure, and many people would be annoyed by this.

- Armin would do anything to get better.

- he'd be very compassionate in the apocalypse.

- if someone needed help, he would drop what he was doing and help somebody.

- unfortunately, this has gotten him and his group in bad situations, and they have been tricked a lot.

- as he got older, he became less weak, and became such a valued member of the group.

- people would notice the change, but why would they complain?

- he went from being such a coward, to being able to kill without a problem, even if it's a human.

Jean Kirstein:

- Jean would be very brave, but also very scared in the apocalypse.

- he'd be a great fighter being honest.

- like Eren, Jean would have this drive inside him, he lost so much.

- he'd probably be one to keep someone in check, and make sure they're okay.

- huge hot head like Eren.

- if someone is threatening his group, he would have no issue getting in their face.

- zombie or human, no issue killing either.

- Jean would believe that there will be an end to this world, and someday there will be peace.

- he would hate to have to put someone he cares about out.

- if someone got bit, he would probably be the person to put them out, but boy would he be emotional.

- he reminds me of Shane from TWD, but less of a psycho.

- Jean would be good at killing zombies, he wouldn't be afraid to put one down.

- he would know how to make a decision pretty fast, it's his positive trait.

- as he gets older, he has very big trust issues with other people.

- so many people in his group died, because of certain choices he made.

- he wouldn't trust anyone at all, and he would have problems fitting into a new group or town.

- Jean would still be a great fighter.

Reiner Braun:

- this big guy would be so useful in the apocalypse.

- Reiner would be an extremely great fighter.

- he has zero issue getting blood on his hands.

- i see Reiner being a really good shot, like he would know how to fire a gun so well.

- he is strong, those zombies are nothing but dead weight to him.

- he would be a great motivator, he'd always try to get his group to do better.

- Reiner isn't extremely trusting, he has his guard up 24/7.

- he's smart too, like Armin, he has gotten his group out of deep shit.

- he is very selfless, he would for sure risk his life for somebody.

- almost has gotten bit a few times, but luck is always on his side.

- he would rather negotiate than be physical.

- but if someone was being an asshole, he would have no issue beating their ass.

- for sure like Abraham in TWD.

- he would probably teach people how to use a gun.

- as he gets older, he becomes extremely depressed from the losses his group has endured.

- Reiner would have some trust and attachment issues.

- he will live with a lot of guilt, but those losses only make him stronger, and he fights on for those who have died.