#rick TRIED to be sarcastic lol

[rememberwhouare]

Andrew Lincoln and Jeffrey Dean Morgan as Rick Grimes and Negan Smith in The Walking Dead.

7.01 The Day Will Come When You Won't Be

8.01 Mercy

[d1xonss]

HEY ASHHH!!! hope youre doing amazing HOW ABOUT SARCASTIC READER (tony stark kinda personality😝😝) WITH DARYL AAGHH IT WOULD BE SO COOL like readers always so careless

A Friend

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 4

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : Fluff

✧ Word Count : 3.5k

AN ~ Hiii! Thank you for this request, I love the idea! I think any kind of sarcastic character paired with Daryl is just perfect. I’m not super confident on how this one came out but I tried to just work with it lol. Hope you enjoy!

You felt the hot sun beating down onto your skin the longer you stood outside, causing you to have to constantly wipe your forehead every few minutes to get rid of the sweat that pooled there. Your arms continued to burn with how many walkers you kept having to stab on the outsides of the fences, their arms trying to come through the openings to claw at you. You had the privilege and the honor of taking on this job today as Rick instructed, while his happy ass stayed inside and did a count of all the weapons and bullets we had. Making checklists if you will while you were stuck out here working your ass off.

Over the course of a few months, you had all been able to live peacefully inside this prison now without the Governor trying to kill everyone twenty four seven. It was relieving, but the problem you all seemed to have to deal with now were all the walkers built up along the fences, attempting to push their way in. No one knew what exactly caused this to be such a problem, maybe the loudness that everyone provided now with how many of you lived on the other sides of the gates. But it had become a pain to deal with to say the least.

You gritted your teeth as you took your weapon to stab another through the skull, moving down to the one below it, and then the one below the next, trying to take them out as fast as possible. Though suddenly you felt a cold pair of hands grasp onto your wrist, your eyes snapping up to see one from the left had a death grip on you. Literally. You yanked your arm back the moment it registered in your head, taking the blade and stabbing it through the eye, seeing its blood go everywhere.

You huffed out a harsh breath, “Fucker.” you muttered to yourself as you shook out your hand, stepping away from them for a moment to take a small break.

You reached down for your water bottle that you had placed off to the side, raising it up to your mouth to take a drink, feeling the coolness glide down your throat effortlessly. It wasn’t nearly enough to cool you down completely, but it was still better than nothing. 

Your eyes then drifted around to the many people outside the prison walls, working, eating, talking with one another. It was nice to see the larger community you had now when it was once just a small and tight knit group. Everything was expanding and growing, and you liked the look of it. But then your gaze trailed off to the left, and you really liked the look of that instead.

Daryl was hunched over the side of his bike as he tinkered with it, using a variety of tools and cursing under his breath sometimes when he couldn’t get it just right. Though that wasn’t the only thing you were focusing on. The way his arms flexed beautifully with every tug and pull he seemed to do, it was causing you to feel even hotter than you were before if that were even possible. And the sweat glistening on his skin while he worked, you could’ve sworn you were drooling a little. God he was hot.

Blinking rapidly, you managed to snap yourself out of it as you turned away before he could notice you staring, looking down towards the ground for a moment to compose yourself. Lord only knows there was just something about that man that you weren't able to resist, but the downside about that was, you knew he hardly even noticed or felt the same. The two of you had never really been the closest, in fact you barely even talked at all for the most part. He was more of a loner type, preferring to be on his own than socialize with other people. But hey, you can’t blame a girl for hoping. You then just put all your attention back to killing the remaining walkers outside the fence, wanting to get it done as fast as possible.

But you found you only lasted about another hour before you were completely over it, needing something else to do to pass the time but also make yourself useful. You found yourself wandering back towards the building as a few other members took over for you at the fence, lingering near the garages before your eyes suddenly spotted some fishing rods. You remembered how Glenn brought those back recently with the intention to use them at a lake just a few miles from here, in hopes of catching other types of food besides deer and squirrel.

You only saw the opportunity for a split second before you just decided to take it. After all it was something to do, and something that wouldn’t want to make you die while doing. You practically skipped over to the supplies laid out, grabbing the two fishing poles and the tacklebox filled with some bait, before heading back towards the gate so the person on watch could let you out.

The walk down towards the large lake was a breeze, giving you an actual opportunity to clear your head for a moment as you could finally get away from the constant snarls of the walkers. You could hardly even step outside anymore before the sound was already ringing in your ears. But out here it was peaceful, calm, and approaching the lake even further, seeing a wooden dock coming into view, it felt even more so.

You stepped out onto the wooden platform and instantly got to work, placing some bait on the hook, before casting the line out into the water, pulling at it a little every once and a while to get the fake fish to move around. You sat in silence for the longest time now, it then suddenly hit you all at once how boring this was to do alone with no one else to keep you company. How there wasn’t a single sound to be heard or even anything interesting to look at…nothing. A sigh then passed your lips as you held the rod loosely in one hand while resting your chin in the other, the silence now growing even more so.

That is until you heard a distinct noise. Footsteps approaching you from behind, heavy ones too, marching against the dock pretty loudly as they inched closer to you. Your eyes then peered over your shoulder, trying to not show the shock you felt when you saw it was Daryl coming up to you, crossbow in hand and a typical serious look on his face.

“The hell you doin?” he asked once he was close enough, eyeing the supplies that surrounded your figure, before his gaze returned to you.

Your brows furrowed. Was he serious?

“Oh you know, just…skydiving.” you said with a shrug, your tone coming out monotone and serious as your eyes squinted up towards him because of the bright sun behind his head.

He scoffed to himself at your sarcastic answer, his permanent scowl intensifying as he didn't open his mouth to speak again, causing you to roll your eyes. “I’m fishing-”

“I know that girl.” he cut you off, “I mean why the hell did ya come out here alone in the middle of the damn day?” he spat, literally. With the way he spoke so harshly he accidentally spit on your skin as he hovered above you.

You blinked a few times in slight disgust, “It’s a free country sprinkles,” you commented dryly as you wiped your cheeks, “And anyway, I needed to get away from all the constant noise back there. Didn’t think it would be that big of an issue.” you informed with widened eyes.

His expression continued to remain neutral as he nearly glared down towards you in almost disbelief. Was it because you came out here alone? Because you talked back to him? Or because you pointed out the literal shower coming out of his mouth, you weren’t completely sure. But he didn’t seem to want to say another word.

“Okay…” you trailed off awkwardly as you turned back around to face the water, preparing to just ignore his presence now until he decided to go away. He always did with interactions like this. You would know that better than anyone.

Though this whole interaction confused you slightly. He never seemed to care when you, or anyone else for that matter, went off on their own like this, so why the hell was this situation any different? Maybe he was on his man period or something, who knows. But still, besides the spitting, you couldn’t help but shake how hot he still looked in the sunlight. A part of you almost wished that he would stay.

But after a few lingering minutes, you still felt his hovering presence behind you as he continued to say nothing, yet he continued to stand behind you firmly in place. The whole thing was weird and was honestly starting to make you a little uncomfortable, just wanting to know what was going on in his head.

So you glanced back up at him, “Okay, either leave or come sit down.” you said bluntly, “Your stare is making me itchy.”

He stood there for only a moment or two longer, clearly debating in his head, before moving closer towards the edge where you sat and took a seat for himself with a sigh. His actions honestly surprised you, almost expecting him to just walk away with some kind of grumble under his breath. But it was safe to say he threw you off guard a little bit. That, and he managed to not say something assholey.

“Don’t want yer dumbass somehow gettin yerself killed out here.”

Ah. Never mind.

Your eyes narrowed towards him as you looked at the side of his face, “You think I can’t handle myself or something?”

“I know ya can’t.” he replied without missing a beat.

You scoffed to yourself, “Oh you better watch yourself, I’ll make you eat those words. I could take your ass down if I really wanted to.”

Now it was his turn to scoff as he truly didn’t believe a single word coming out of your mouth, “Alright…”

Rolling your eyes at his response, you reached around behind you to pull out the other fishing rod and held it out to him, “Make yourself useful at least.” you said with a pointed glance.

He eyed the thing in your hand for a long moment, making you think for a moment that he wasn’t even going to try. But again, he seemed to surprise you. He snatched it out of your grasp with a small huff, turning to put some bait on the hook just as you did before throwing the line out onto the lake, a bored expression written on his face.

Well this should be fun.

For a while, you two only sat in complete silence, but it wasn’t one that was uncomfortable. In fact you didn’t mind it in the slightest. He was out here keeping an eye on you, helping you bring something back to the community and it was not something you would be complaining about anytime soon. He sat fairly close to you to the point where you could briefly smell the lingering scent of cigarettes on his clothes. You felt that anyone else would be slightly bothered by the smell, but in all honesty, you loved it.

You didn’t know how much time had passed before Daryl began to shift uncomfortably where he sat, his movements bringing your attention to him. He looked a little stiff, almost uncomfortable as his posture was a little rough around the edges.

“You alright there?” you asked with a raised brow.

He groaned a little as he straightened up, “My back’s fuckin killin me…” he huffed as he continued to squirm a little bit now.

Amusement crossed your features once he said that, “Really? Damn, how old are you?”

His face however was far from amused as he looked back at you with some kind of pointed look, narrowing ever so slightly that caused you to back off. “...Tough crowd…” you muttered while turning your attention back to the lake.

You could briefly see out of the corner of your vision, his eyes were still on you as he let out somewhat of a loud and lingering sigh. “Forty three.” he answered almost regrettably.

It was obvious you were surprised, slowly turning back to face him, glancing over his features before you let out a small, “huh.”

His eyes rolled, “Yeah, go ahead and say whatever, I can feel it comin.” he spoke bitterly as he tugged a little on his pole again.

You laughed a little to yourself, “Calm down, I wasn’t going to say anything bad.”

“Alright…sure.” he spoke again, clearly not believing it as he didn’t look at you again.

“I was actually going to say you don’t look it…so…” you trailed off, your words far from a lie at what first popped into your head. It was honestly hard to believe, thinking to yourself that he looked like he was at least in his mid thirties.

But those words took him a little off guard, looking back towards you to see if you were actually telling the truth, before letting his guard down a little as he felt a little warmth in his chest, “Oh…thanks…I guess.”

You nodded sincerely, “You’re welcome…grandpa.”

The sound surprised you. It even surprised him. But Daryl couldn’t help the sudden laugh he let out at your little jab, covering his mouth as he chuckled to himself in surprise that you said that so effortlessly. Even he had to admit, it was a good one.

You even smiled a little to yourself at the unexpected reaction, seeing him calm down a little as he spoke next, “Man…I guess I walked into that one, I’ll give ya that…”

You dipped your head as you did a little bow from where you sat, “Oh thank you, thank you, I’ll be here all week.”

He chuckled quietly again at your sarcastic attitude, wondering to himself for a moment why he hadn’t spent this kind of time with you before. You were both in the same group for a good amount of time, nearly the whole time, and yet neither of you never really sought each other out. The two of you just never had gotten to know one another that well he assumed. But regardless, he supposed it was nice to do it now. Better late than never.

“Why…why haven’t we done this kinda stuff before?” he found himself asking out loud, just a slip of his tongue as he didn’t exactly mean to voice his thoughts like that to you. Though he almost couldn’t help it as he seemed to want to know your point of view.

But nonetheless you responded. “Cause you’re always too busy with bingo.”

He found himself laughing again, hearing you join in after a moment as your quick comebacks seemed to throw him off yet again, “Alright, alright, enough of that shit. Yer gonna make me feel ancient if ya keep it up.”

You laughed again with a shake of your head, ���Sorry…but honestly…you kind of intimidate me.”

His brows furrowed a little in confusion, thinking to himself that you of all people wouldn’t have been intimidated in the slightest. Especially because of how long you knew him. “...Really?”

Your gaze ducked a little, “What? You see yourself as some big teddy bear or something, you’re not exactly Mr. Rogers.”

Daryl couldn’t stop the smirk from forming on his face at the comparison, nodding along as if you had a point, “Fair. Just…didn’t think ya saw me like that.”

“Well, if it helps…I don’t anymore. It’s nice to see you laugh…you know, showing some human emotion.”

The small smile he had still hung on his face as he looked at you, nodding again towards you, “It’s nice hearin ya laugh too.” he commented a bit quietly.

You smiled in return, not saying anything else as you were left completely content at where this ended up. You already liked looking at him, that was a given, but you also found yourself liking to see this other side to him as well. The side where he could actually let loose for once instead of putting up this whole tough guy act. And though you didn’t hear him admit it out loud, you knew he liked it too.

Though after only a few minutes of comfortable silence that fell over the two of you, he spoke up again as he squinted his eyes up at the sun, “Damn it’s hot out here.” he commented casually.

You on the other hand practically lit up at the opportunity that was given to you, staying quiet for a moment as you only nodded in agreement to his statement. He thought you couldn’t handle yourself against him? Not being able to catch him off guard? Challenge accepted.

Your eyes trailed down to the water just in front of you, leaning in a bit as you pretend to look at something below the surface, “Hey, do you see that?” you asked as you pointed.

His eyes looked toward you, before leaning down a bit as well to try and make out where you were gesturing to, “Huh? Where?”

“Right there.” you pointed again.

He felt a little stupid as he saw nothing, squinting his eyes more as he leaned a bit closer, “...Where?”

“It’s right…” you trailed off as your other hand moved up to his back, “There!” you said as you gently shoved him into the water, hearing him gasp before he fell face first into the lake with a splash. His reaction alone caused you to quite literally fall over laughing, hugging your sides as you giggled uncontrollably.

He then came back up with a breath, looking at you with a pointed glare as he was now completely soaked, “What the hell’s wrong with ya?” he asked angrily as he shook his head a little for the water that surely got in his ears.

You laughed even harder than before, “You said it was hot.” you pointed out as you laughed again to yourself, “Plus, I just made you eat your words.” you spoke cockily, referring to what he claimed earlier.

He stayed in place for a long moment absolutely dumbfounded, but then again he wasn’t planning on just letting you off the hook like that. He was absolutely drenched and pissed.

You began to notice the serious look he had on his face and you quickly calmed down, “Hey, I’m sorry, it was a joke.” you said as you leaned down a bit lower and reached out to him, “Here.” you offered to help him back up.

The man didn’t even need to think. No hesitation whatsoever. 

He quickly took your hand and pulled you into the water right along with him, hearing your small scream before you fell clumsily into the water. He chuckled to himself as he backed up, seeing your head pop back up almost instantly with shock written all over your features. But then again, you and him both knew you deserved it a little.

“You asshole!” you yelled playfully as you sent a splash toward his face.

“Oh, I’m the asshole?” he yelled back as he sent a splash back towards you, “You started this girl.” he chuckled as he kept pushing the water towards you.

That only caused the two of you to linger and splash each other in the water for quite a long time, neither of you even caring about the amount of time passing by. You were having a good time, playing around in the lake felt incredible on such a hot day like today. And neither of you could deny that each other's company, that was pretty nice too. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had laughed this hard, the situation alone causing you to be taken aback for a moment that Daryl was the one to bring out that side of you again. But it was refreshing, along with the cool water the two of you swam in for a few hours.

Though as the hour grew late and your fingers were starting to get pruney, you both collectively decided to get out and back up to the surface, ringing out your clothes all the while as you prepared for the walk back to the prison.

“No luck with the fishin, huh?” Daryl asked as he shook his head a little, the water droplets from his hair landing on you with how close the two of you were.

You sighed a little as you glanced back at the supplies you brought, “Guess not.” you commented, “But…I do think I found myself a new fishing buddy.” you said as you glanced back at him with a smile.

He looked at you for a moment before scoffing dismissively, “We ain’t no fishin buddies, that shit’s stupid.” he said with a chuckle as he moved around you to begin to gather up the stuff on the dock.

Your mouth dropped in offense, “Oh come on, it would be fun, grandpa’s love fishing.” you teased him as you watched him gather up all the supplies in his arms.

“Stop.” he said dryly as he brushed past you, beginning to walk back towards the prison.

You sighed dramatically, “Well at least bring out the joke book and humor me, it’s going to be a long walk back.”

“I swear to God, girl…” he grumbled a little at your teasing. But as much as he didn’t want you to see it, there was a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth at your words. And maybe a little amusement in his eyes too. Perhaps this whole thing was just the start…maybe he had finally found someone he could laugh and joke with. Someone he could call a friend.

~ Thanks for reading! (also, i am working on a part two for older, it’s just taking me some time. but i promise it’s on the way;))

[bambidixon]

Feeling like sharing a little more about my baby, Amelia! :3 @thevegandarkelf, thank you for the adorable gif—love it!!

Sooo, Amelia is that kind of person. The one who walks into a room and immediately puts people on edge—not because she’s trying to intimidate anyone, but because her whole vibe just screams, don’t mess with me. She’s sharp in everything she does—the way she stands, the way her eyes flick around, always calculating. And no, she’s definitely not the type to sit quietly in the corner. If there’s something to say, she’ll say it—usually with a sarcastic bite that leaves people either nervously laughing or totally irritated. There’s no in-between. She’s not one to “just go with it” to avoid conflict. If something’s bothering her, she’ll let you know—probably not very kindly, either.

For example: If Rick (especially Rick) tries to pull his whole “leader” routine, she’ll be leaning against a wall, arms crossed, and hit him with something like,

“Oh, wow. Another speech about how we all need to 'get it together.' What’s next? A PowerPoint presentation?”

Yeah, she doesn’t like Rick. Too bad for him. 🤷‍♀️ She can be a little cruel sometimes, especially when Merle was around, but she doesn’t fake anything. What you see is what you get with her.

- Though she’d never admit it, Amelia has a knack for sketching. She used to draw animals she saw while hunting, and sometimes, she sketches people from the group when she’s alone. There’s a half-finished drawing of Daryl in her bag that she can’t bring herself to throw away.

- She can whistle any tune perfectly, a skill she picked up from her brother Luke. She uses it to signal Daryl sometimes or just to distract herself.

Nowww about Luke ... Her big brother is basically a ghost haunting her. She never talks about him. Every now and then, though, something slips—like the time someone mentioned running away from a fight, and she muttered, “Luke used to say that.” When they asked what happened to him, she just shrugged and changed the subject. Deep down, though? She’s still that 10-year-old girl waiting for him to come back, even though she knows he never will. And she hates herself for it. Hates that she still cares, still misses him after all these years.

Daryl’s the only one who knows about Luke obviously. He avoids bringing it up because he knows how much it hurts her. Every time it comes up, it goes badly:

Daryl: “You ever think about him?”

Amelia (scoffing): “What’s the point? He’s either dead or too much of a coward to show his face.”

Daryl: “He was just a kid too. Maybe he—”

Amelia (cutting him off): “Don’t. Don’t make excuses for him. He promised, Daryl. He swore he’d take me with him, and instead, he left me with that monster. So no, I don’t think about him. Not anymore.”

Yeah… she carries that with her.

a literally dare to say a little more LOL I really thought I had not so much to say sorry, and I didn't even talked about the thing she and negan had going one there at some point 😭😭😭

[glittertimes]

It was so funny bc I was talking about Percy Jackson in my speech class and this guy goes "So whatever happened to Rick Riordan?"

And I'm like "What do you mean? He's still writing sequels!"

And he's like "What???"

And I'm just like "Yeah there's so many sequels!"

Like where have you been? He's been releasing a book a year since I was like 15, and I think the apollo series is going to have two more books! Lol

[theteasetwrites]

The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning

Chapter 60: Common Ground

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader ❧ Era: Season 9 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: mild swearing, violence, scary situation, character death (???) ❧ Word Count: 7.1k (be prepared for very long chapters this season, and lots of them!)

❧ In This Chapter: There's a murder mystery brewing at the bridge camp, and tensions are running high between our heroes and the Saviors, as well as Daryl and Rick. Things go haywire when a herd threatens to compromise the bridge...

❧ A/N: Still not over Rick's "death," tbh. This is quite a sad chapter, but I do something different with Daryl. Instead of having him retreat into the woods for six years (lol TWD), I have him stay with Reader and put his effort into focusing on her and the baby to take his mind off the grief... More to come!

You woke up at dawn, and Daryl had been up all night, sitting in that chair across the tent, thinking.

Thinking about how dangerous the world was getting, how he could’ve done things differently yesterday, how much trouble was going into Rick’s little plan to unite everyone.

Though you didn’t get much sleep, what with how worried you were about Aaron, you got a few good hours.

You blinked your sleepy eyes in a haze when the first light poured through the cracks in the tent. Daryl was whittling arrows, trying not to think anymore.

“Did you sleep at all?” you asked.

“I’m fine.”

So that’s a no, you thought.

You huffed. “Come here.”

He looked between you and his arrow, then placed it gently on the ground beside his crossbow before lifting up the covers and snuggling beside you.

He kissed your neck, and nuzzled his face into your hair, taking in the scent of rose and lilac from your shampoo.

You traced shapeless shapes onto his forearm, your fingers going back and forth against the light brown hairs on his tanned, dirtied skin.

“I wish things were a lot simpler,” you said to him. “I wish… I wish the Saviors would just go away.”

He grunted in agreement against your skin. “Me too. Whole lot more trouble than they’re worth. Rick still thinks we can work with ‘em. Truth is, they hate us, and we hate them.”

You tangled your hand between his dark, silky tresses. “I don’t hate them,” you said. “I hate Negan, rotting in that cell in Alexandria. I hate what they’ve done, but I don’t hate them. I just don’t think they belong with us. Is that bad? Do I sound… exclusionary?”

He scoffed. “No. You sound like you know what you’re talkin’ about. Maybe you should call the shots.”

“No,” you said. “I’m not leader material. You on the other hand…” You lowered your hand to caress his cheek and lift his face up to yours. “You can do anything, my love.”

He sighed. “Not anythin’. I try, but I think ya give me too much credit.”

“Well,” you said, then kissed his nose, “I think I give you the credit you deserve. How many times have I tried to tell you that you’re the best man here? You’d think I would’ve gotten it through that thick, stubborn skull of yours by now.” You bundled your hand into a ball and playfully nudged it against his head, scruffing up his hair.

“Stop,” he said with a scrunched up face. “You’re messin’ up my hair.”

You made a pouty face. “Oh, no,” you said in a sarcastically sad tone. “I’m messing up my sweet Daryl’s beautiful, perfectly styled hair that he cares so much about all of a sudden.” He opened his eyes and leaned into your neck to bite you with the edges of his teeth. “Ouch!”

“That’s what you get,” he said with a sweet smile as he caressed your face, immediately feeling guilty for even nipping at you. “Sorry.”

You beamed at him, then let out a snort. “It didn’t hurt, tough guy. Now let me get up, I’ve got to bring Aaron his breakfast. You should stay and sleep.”

“But—” he began to say before you put your finger against his lips.

“No buts, mister. I’m getting you breakfast, too. Breakfast in bed. Now stay put.”

You rose to your feet and quickly dressed, then made your way outside where, to your surprise, a handful of Saviors and non-Saviors were exchanging some choice words in the center of camp.

“You’re not thinkin’ straight,” one former Savior, Alden, said to another. “Daryl wouldn’t do that.”

“Bullshit!” Jed said. “He’s had it out for Justin since the Sanctuary!”

“Hell, it could be any of them,” another Savior said. “Could even be Rick the Prick.”

“Hey,” said Rosita as she stepped forward. “There needs to be an investigation before we go around accusing people.”

“What we need are guns to defend ourselves,” a female Savior said. “There’s a murderer among us! They killed one of our own!” she yelled angrily.

“Calm down,” replied Alden.

You began to make your way towards the commotion to see what was going on, to see if you’d heard them right. Someone was murdered?

A bigger crowd formed before you got there, and soon everyone was bickering about something.

“What’s going on?” you asked Rosita, who’d just finished barking at another Savior.

She looked at you with a heavy expression. “Found Justin dead outside camp,” she said. “Well, he had turned, but he had a wound in his chest. Someone killed him.”

You shuddered, then turned around frantically to notice that suddenly people were pushing each other, and the mob was divided into two sides—Saviors, and Alexandrians, people from Oceanside, and people from the Kingdom.

You got lost in the crowd, but when you saw a Savior pushing a defenseless woman, who you knew didn’t know how to fight, you pushed him back.

“Back off!” you yelled, and the man responded by trying to push you down, but Carol swooped in and shoved him back again.

Soon, it became more like a rowdy mosh pit, and everyone was pushing and shoving, until Alden sandwiched himself between the two groups and pushed them both away. “Hey! Hey!” he cried. “Stop this shit, stop it!”

To your surprise, it worked, and everyone calmed just for a moment to let Alden speak. “We’re gonna find out who did this,” he said. “And we’re gonna make sure it never happens to us again, all right?”

“‘Us’?” replied Jed, who stood opposite Alden. “You’re not one of us anymore.”

“‘Us’ means all of us,” Alden explained, and then was quickly met with Jed’s fist in his face.

“Whoa, hey!” you said, stepping in front of Alden. “That’s not right. Look, I know you’re angry, but there’s got to be a way to deal with this… civilly.”

He scoffed. “Go shovel that horseshit to whoever killed Justin!” he yelled in your face. “Or maybe it was your old man,” he said. “Hell, I’ll bet you were both in on it.”

You were taken aback, and looked at him with wide eyes and a quivering lip. “What? No, Daryl wouldn’t do that.”

He moved closer to you, until his chest hit against yours and pushed you back, almost sending you to the ground before Alden caught you, and Carol came up to Jed to push him away from you, her other hand on her pistol.

“I thought you were supposed to be our leader,” he said to her.

“Enough,” she replied. “Turn around, all of you.”

“No can do, C,” Jed said. “Why don’t you go ahead and yank that roscoe, pop me right here? It’s better than worrying about getting it in the back.”

Then, Carol did just that, pulled out her gun, and the others on your side who did have guns, the only people who were allowed to have guns, followed suit.

The tension was heavy, oppressive. You swallowed hard and looked between the two groups of people, so close to the brink of destruction.

“We don’t want this,” said Laura, stepping up behind Jed. “We just need to protect ourselves.”

You knew they wanted guns before things went bad, and they sure as hell were going to want guns now.

“No guns!” Daryl’s gruff voice called from beyond the mob, as he stood high and looked you all over from elevated ground.

“That ‘cause you’re the one who took out Justin?” a male Savior, D.J., asked.

You turned around and shot him a penetrative glare. “I told you all,” you said sternly. “He didn’t kill anybody.”

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Daryl had killed people before, people he thought were threats, but he only did it out of necessity, out of self-defense or defense of others. If Daryl killed Justin, first of all, he’d tell you, and he’d tell everyone. He wouldn’t be ashamed of it. Second of all, he would’ve done it because he needed to.

So, you knew it wasn’t him, and it sure as hell wasn’t you. You didn’t hate the guy enough to kill him, and, like Daryl, you killed out of necessity, not anger.

“Nah,” another Savior said. “My money’s on garbage lady.”

You turned to look at Anne, once known as Jadis, the leader of the people from the garbage heaps, the one who turned on your group at Alexandria. You trusted her now, and she was one of you, so you didn’t think she’d do it, either.

“Revenge for Simon’s play, sure,” replied Regina, a former Savior lieutenant.

“No,” said D.J. “It’s him.” He was looking right at Daryl, and your nostrils began to flare in anger. “Finishing what he started.”

D.J. abruptly began to move towards a nearby tree, against which were propped a few long axes.

Your eyes widened and you lunged yourself forward, pressing your hand against his chest.

You could hear the sound of guns cocking behind you, as they pointed at him.

“Don’t,” you said firmly.

“(Y/N),” you heard Daryl say loudly, to which you turned around and saw him raise his crossbow, pointed directly at D.J.

“No,” you said under your breath, then felt D.J. push past you as he inched towards Anne.

“Maybe it’s both of ‘em,” he said.

D.J. and a few others made their way closer to Anne, and began to raise their weapons. Gabriel stood in front of her, and you didn’t even know what to do, other than unloop your own axe and mentally prepare yourself to kill someone.

That was when Rick burst through from out of nowhere like a cowboy vigilante, on a horse and pistol at the ready.

“Everyone back off, right now!”

He paced on the horse between the groups until they split off. “Start the redirect,” he said. “Pair off to work the grid.”

You began to retreat back to the catering tent to prepare breakfast, but not without noticing Rick sharing a cold gaze with Daryl.

Rick startled you when he called out your name from the other side of the tent, causing you to flinch and drop a few tomatoes on the wood foundation. Their watery red juices had exploded on the ground.

“Jesus, Rick,” you huffed, bending over to pick up the sloppy remnants. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he said as he walked over to help you.

Great, you thought. Rick’s probably coming in here to interrogate me, and I already seem jumpy.

“No, it’s my fault,” you said, scooping up the slop and dumping it into the garbage. Rick followed suit. “That stuff earlier made me a little nervous I guess.”

“Understandable,” he replied, wiping the tomato liquids from his hands. “It could’ve gone bad.”

You nodded. “It did, as far as I’m concerned.” You paused for a while, sharing a few awkward glances with Rick. “So do you have any leads? Any idea of who could’ve done this?”

You weren’t entirely sure why you were asking. You knew your husband was a suspect. Justin always rubbed him the wrong way. Hell, perhaps even you were a suspect.

He rested his hand on his hip and let out an exasperated huff. “Well, that’s one thing I came in here to talk to you about.”

Shit, why do I have the capacity to speak?

He stepped closer and lowered his voice, though you were both alone. “I gotta ask—was Daryl with you last night?”

“Of course he was,” you said confidently. “We were with Aaron for a while, actually. In the medic tent. We went to our tent after Aaron fell asleep, and…”

After you returned to your tent, you went to bed, and tried to get Daryl to go to bed, too, but he decided to sit and sharpen his knife instead. You fell asleep to the sound of steel scraping, and it occurred to you then that Daryl could have very well left your tent after that, and you wouldn’t have been the wiser. You were always a heavy sleeper, and Daryl was a quiet walker.

“And then?”

You swallowed hard. “Well, we went to bed. Together.”

A lie, more or less.

He nodded, but he looked deep into your eyes, as if he saw something there you weren’t telling him. “Daryl slept all night?”

He seemed skeptical, and it made sense. Daryl never slept all night, not unless he was truly and utterly exhausted, and that was rare. He often woke up at night and rose to take watch or do something around the house until the sun rose.

Still, you didn’t want to risk Daryl being seen as a murderer, even if he did do it. He wasn’t a murderer. If he had killed Justin, he had his reasons, and they were probably relatively morally centered.

“Mhm,” you mumbled. “He was tired from all that work on the bridge.”

Rick looked at you for a while, with that hardened gaze and those sharp blue eyes. They weren’t anything like Daryl’s blue eyes, which were much less calculating and a lot softer, more gentle and deep. Odd, considering Rick was usually seen as the more fair and compassionate of the two. To you, however, Daryl could be much warmer than Rick, when he wanted to be.

“You’ve always been shit at lyin’, you know that?”

You lowered your head and sighed. “I know.”

“So tell me what you really know.”

You raised your head to look at him again. Damn those penetrative eyes.

“I fell asleep before him. He was sitting on a chair in our tent sharpening his knife when I went to bed. I woke up this morning and he was still there. I don’t know what he did while I was asleep, but I know my husband, and you know him, too. He wouldn’t murder someone just because he doesn’t like him. Daryl can be an asshole, but when he is an asshole, he usually has good reason to be one.”

Rick nodded. “I know,” he said. “I just need to be thorough. Whoever did this… They’re going to face some serious issues with the Saviors, and that becomes a problem for all of us.”

The room seemed to spin momentarily when you internally went back to that moment, where D.J. nearly charged Daryl with an axe. If the Saviors were already out for your husband’s blood, who knows how they’d react if it turned out that Daryl had done it.

“You don’t… You don’t really think Daryl did this, right?” you asked shakily.

He let out an exasperated sigh, and rubbed his hand over his face, aged with worry and coated in a well-kept layer of greying facial hair. “I don’t know what to think, (Y/N). I leave for Alexandria last night, come back this morning and come to find out we’ve got a murder on our hands.”

You sighed. “Who’s to say it was even anyone here? It could’ve been someone just passing by—saw Justin, shot him, and left. It’s not likely at all, but it’s a possibility.”

“That may be, but those Saviors are lookin’ for an answer, and if there’s one, I gotta find it.”

“All I know is,” you said, “Daryl didn’t do it.”

But you weren’t entirely sure. How could you be? There was always the possibility that he’d done it, but even then, could you blame him? Not entirely. Justin was a bad man.

The investigation continued throughout the day, and quickly it became apparent that the Saviors might not have been walking off, but might’ve been victims of murder like Justin.

That night, Daryl paired off with Maggie, who had finally agreed to come visit from Hilltop, and went looking for Arat, a Savior who’d gone missing that day during the search.

You volunteered to pair off with someone, too, but Daryl didn’t want you going outside the camp, especially after sundown, so you stayed and looked after Aaron, who’d been recovering well.

“You look worried,” Aaron said, watching you fluff up his pillow before placing it behind his head. “I’m not completely up on camp politics, but I heard there’s a murder mystery.”

You sat yourself down next to him, and turned up the lantern to brighten up the tent a bit. “Justin’s dead, and people are starting to think that the walk-offs were murdered, too. Worse, guess who’s the prime suspect.”

“I’m assuming it’s the guy who almost beat Justin to a pulp yesterday? Same guy who makes it pretty clear that he hates the Saviors?”

You cradled your head in your hands, running your fingers through your hair in frustration. “Bingo,” you mumbled. “What am I going to do, Aaron?”

Aaron rested his one hand on your shoulder and rocked you gently back and forth. “Hey,” he said, “you and I both know he wouldn’t have done that. Daryl’s… Daryl, but he’s not a murderer. Besides, stress isn’t good for the baby. You should go to sleep.”

“Sleep?” you asked. “When there’s potentially a murderer on the loose, and there are Saviors out for my husband’s head? Oh, and not to mention my brother’s missing an arm.” You paused with wide eyes when you realized what you’d just said, and there was an awkward silence between the two of you, until Aaron burst into a wide smile.

“Jesus Christ, (Y/N)!” he laughed. “Look, everything’s a little… topsy turvy, but something will start to look up. Hell, you’re pregnant. That’s the best news we’ve all had for weeks. Go to bed, and stop worrying for Christ’s sake.”

You did just that, though it was hard to sleep, both because you were worried about Daryl, out there in the wilderness searching for missing Saviors, and because you were worried about all the other things bouncing off the walls of your frazzled head. So you went to bed, but you didn’t stop worrying, as Aaron had asked.

Still, you slept much more than you intended to, and you awoke in the latter half of the morning. To your horror, you couldn’t find Daryl anywhere. You searched the entire camp, and even went out of your way to try to find Maggie, who you knew was with him last night when everyone split off to look for Arat, but you couldn’t find her, either, and concluded she must’ve returned to the Hilltop.

Then, you went looking for Rick, who you knew had a chat with Daryl yesterday afternoon. He was gone as well. Even Aaron had been taken back to Alexandria in the morning while you slept, leaving you a note with Enid in the medic tent. Only Carol seemed to be your closest confidant still present in the camp.

“Where is everybody?” you asked Carol frantically, your voice shaky and filled with deep, gut-wrenching worry. “I mean, specifically, where’s Daryl? I overslept, I just woke up and I haven’t seen him since last night. He never leaves without at least leaving me a note, and his bike’s gone, and I can’t find Rick or Maggie or—”

“(Y/N),” she said, holding you by your shoulders to get you to calm down. “I saw Daryl leave with Rick on his bike about half an hour ago. I don’t know where they were going, though.”

You shook your head. “That’s not like him, not since the prison. He’s always left me a note since then.”

“Maybe they left in a hurry,” Carol replied, and suddenly, Jerry must have overheard your conversation.

“You’re lookin’ for Rick and Daryl?” he asked. You both turned to him incredulously.

“Y-yes,” you stuttered. “Do you know where they went?”

Jerry nodded. “Well, uh, the info was kinda confidential, but considering you’re Daryl’s lady and all, Jesus sent me a message from Hilltop, said Maggie’s on her way to Alexandria.”

That sent a chill down your spine, because there would only be one reason why Maggie would go to Alexandria these days.

“Seemed like something Rick should handle,” Jerry continued, “so he was going to go to Alexandria, and Daryl offered him a ride on the bike.”

It must have been a split-second decision, then, since he didn’t tell you. As you said, Daryl always let you know when he was leaving and for how long he’d be gone, ever since he spontaneously left with Merle. He felt horrible about leaving you after that, so he always tried to reassure you he’d come back to you. It wasn’t like him at all anymore to just up and leave.

So you had your answer as to where Daryl was, but it didn’t satisfy you, because you knew your Daryl. Just as much as you knew he wasn’t a murderer, you knew he wasn’t going to let Rick stop Maggie from killing Negan, and that was the only business she would have in Alexandria.

Daryl was smart, too. A lot smarter than most people gave him credit for. He was going to take Rick somewhere far from Alexandria, and, if you knew him well enough, probably end up fighting with him.

If there was one thing you wished you could’ve changed about Daryl, it was how much he seemed to automatically solve his problems in the most dramatic fashion possible, or with violence.

“Pull over!” Rick yelled above the humming motor of the Frankenstein bike.

Daryl obliged, stopped the bike abruptly and getting off before dropping it to the dirt road that ran through the middle of the woods. He knew that Rick would notice he wasn’t taking him to Alexandria, but he hadn’t really thought through what was going to happen once he did notice. He just knew he had to let Maggie kill Negan, ever since she told him last night that that’s what she had to do.

“What is this?” Rick asked as Daryl circled around him, breathing heavily and already impassioned with anger.

He pointed back at Rick with an accusatory finger. “You know exactly what this is,” he said.

“I already called it in,” Rick replied. “Maggie’s not making it through those gates.”

Daryl tilted his head. “Yeah, that message didn’t go through.”

Rick stepped closer to him. “You messed with the relay?” he asked.

“This time, man, it’s gonna go the way it was supposed to.”

Rick kept staring down at Daryl, and pulled out his walkie, which was quickly dislodged from his hand as Daryl pushed him to the ground. Unbeknownst to Daryl, there was a downward slope behind Rick, and now the both of them were stumbling down it, rolling over each other in an almost comedic fashion until they both were launched into a deep ditch, conveniently made right next to the road.

Goddamnit! Daryl thought, his back aching more than it usually did as he hit the solid ground. This wasn’t part of the damn plan!

He looked up and examined the sides of the ditch, then quickly lowered his head as he realized he was now stuck in a hole with the man he had just bamboozled.

The two men rose to their feet, already looking for a way to get out.

“Those roots,” Rick said, “they’re the only way we’re gettin’ out.”

“Too high up, though,” Daryl replied, and then heard Rick’s body thud onto the ground again as he tried and failed to grab onto a root springing from the dirt wall.

“Goddamnit!” he cried, then wiped his dirtied face. “You set that up, too?”

Daryl didn’t set any of this up, at least, past the push. He knew about the relay from Maggie, who was suspicious that Jesus was catching onto her plans to kill Negan that day. He did inform the other messengers on the relay not to forward Rick’s message to Alexandria, but other than that, he was working on a whim, which was why he hadn’t informed you of his whereabouts. He didn’t think he was going to have to take Rick on a joyride today.

“Man, you’re really layin’ this on me?” he asked. “You’re the one who had to go chasin’ after ‘er. Couldn’t just let things be, huh?”

“You know what keeping Negan alive means to us,” Rick said.

Daryl turned around to face him. “I know what seein’ him dead means to her.”

They looked at each other momentarily, both panting, still out of breath from the journey down. “Daryl, I get why she can’t accept it, I do.”

“Do you?” Daryl asked sarcastically as he turned himself around again.

“Her never coming to Alexandria?” Rick approached Daryl from the back, and hounded him from the side. “Her hanging Gregory the way she did? I know. I’m not blind.”

“You sure as hell been actin’ like it,” Daryl huffed. “Man, your ass wouldn’t even be alive if it wasn’t for Glenn.”

Rick turned to look at him at that. It was true. Glenn saved Rick back in Atlanta, on that very same run where they left Daryl’s brother on the roof to die. They came back that day, with Rick instead of Merle. Since then, Rick had slowly taken the place of Daryl’s brother. That moment Glenn decided to save Rick Grimes’ life set in motion a chain of events that Daryl wouldn’t have changed for the world, even if it meant having never been separated from his brother. He’d let it all happen again in a heartbeat, just to know he’d have the life he had with you, now. Still, he was pissed at Rick.

“You wouldn’t have found Lori,” he continued. “You wouldn’t have found Carl, and you sure as shit wouldn’t have found any of us. He did that,” he said, pointing at Rick. “Or did you forget?”

“Of course not, I think about it every damn day. And Maggie, I hate what I did to her, what I took from her, but it’s what I had to do.”

“She’s doin’ what she has to do,” he replied, approaching Rick territorially.

“What? You’re okay with that?” asked Rick.

“Why the hell wouldn’t I be?!” Daryl barked. “Long as that asshole’s in Alexandria, I can’t keep (Y/N) safe! Can’t keep the baby safe!” He shuddered then at his admission to Rick, and shook his head as if to forget he just said that. Of course, it was all true. He hated Negan being there for many reasons, which he further explained to Rick in that pit, and soon there wasn’t much left to say.

The ground crumbled with each attempt of Daryl to hoist Rick up the side of the pit, and when the gunshots from camp rang out, they knew they had to hurry.

Back at camp, chaos had broken out when the rebel Saviors returned with guns, and all of them pointed at Carol. You stood by her side, and helped her take down Jed when she refused to back down. The Saviors had solved the murder mystery, the same one Daryl and Maggie had solved the night before—it was the women of Oceanside who were killing off the Saviors, in seeking revenge for the murders of their people before the war.

When Rick reached the top of that pit, with Daryl climbing up behind him, several walkers were beginning to pile up near the bottom as they trudged their way towards the gunshots. Luckily, Daryl could use their dead bodies as a ladder to help him reach the high roots, and once he could grab Rick’s hand, he hesitated for a moment, but he took it, and with a series of grunts, the two men had helped each other out of the ground, now covered in dirt, sweat, and blood.

But then, that was a second skin for them these days.

“Daryl!” you yelled to him, when you heard that familiar buzzing sound echoing through the camp as his bike zoomed closer.

He dropped it to the ground, and stepped over it to run over to you. You took his face in your hands, and immediately started scrubbing at it with your palms, trying to wipe off as much dirt as you could. “Wh-what happened? Are you all right? Where’s Rick?” you asked frantically.

He shook his head as you cradled it in your hands, and covered them with his own filthy ones. “A herd’s comin’,” he said to you, then repeated it again louder to the others who had gathered around. “Rick needs help leadin’ it away from the bridge.”

You nodded, and soon the relay was back up, and word had gotten to Alexandria that the camp was in danger. Maggie and Michonne returned, and as soon as they did, everyone regrouped and headed towards the bridge, where Daryl said would be the meeting spot with Rick, who was leading the herd. From there, he hoped, there would be a way to redirect the walkers from the bridge.

Alas, the plan was already set to fail.

Daryl ran ahead of your group when he caught a glimpse of Rick on the bridge beyond the trees. He let loose an arrow that pierced the skull of one walker that had gotten too close to Rick, and that had seemed to get his attention.

You caught up with him after that, and Rick looked at you all. You noticed he held his abdomen, and that he was bleeding from it. Rather, heavily, in fact. Apart from that, you saw the herd, coming steadily towards Rick, and gradually beginning to flood the bridge, under which a heavy stream was flowing. There was no way that bridge was going to hold, not with the combined force of the river rapids and the weight of the walkers.

You shared a worried look with Daryl, who was at a loss for words now. He didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t a leader, not like Rick. As much as you believed he could do anything, he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t have the confidence, the life force, to do anything at this moment, not without Rick giving him the go-ahead. He could only stare in desperation, or in some kind of emotion that seemed too complex to adequately display itself on the screen of his often unreadable face.

“What is he doing?!” Maggie yelled.

Leading the walkers over the bridge, you thought, though it was the last thing Rick wanted. Something must’ve changed his mind.

“He’s hurt!” cried Michonne.

“That herd went right through Hilltop,” Daryl said, much more calmly than his face betrayed. “He’s trying to bring down the bridge.”

“No,” muttered Michonne.

“We turn them around!” Maggie ordered. “Fight ‘em back!”

“Fire your guns!” Carol yelled. “Try to divert them!”

You looked at Rick for a moment before pulling your gun from its holster and beginning to run with the others, but Daryl tugged your arm. “(Y/N), no,” he said. “Stay with me. The baby.”

You swallowed hard, more in fear than in frustration. You knew he was right, and truth be told, you were frightened. Frightened of losing the baby, of losing everything.

“Shoot from here,” he continued, then leaned down to prepare his crossbow.

You stood beside him, cocking your gun and holding it steady to aim at the nearest walkers to Rick, only you knew it was just a matter of time before you ran out of bullets.

You fired off several rounds, keeping one eye on Rick as he backed further away, still clutching his stomach. He moved slowly, as if in a daze. It made sense, since he seemed to be bleeding profusely, but it confused you nonetheless. He seemed to be begging the walkers to come closer to him, to get as many on the bridge as possible, no matter what fate would befall him.

Daryl stood tall and shot his arrows in a slow and steady succession as he realized there wasn’t any way to save him now. He was waiting for the moment to do something, to destroy those walkers.

Even as the rest of the group was trying to divert the walkers, it was too late. There were simply too many of them, and they all had their sights on Rick. He was much too close to give him time to run.

Still, you both shot, and others shot from other directions, but soon you had no bullets left.

You began to tear up then, your hands becoming shaky as you held up your pistol. “Daryl…” you said tearfully, still looking over at Rick from that long, menacing distance. That distance that made you feel so helpless, so out of control, as if you were the pliable clay in the hands of a cruel and merciless god. Perhaps you were, and perhaps that same god who’d taken everything from you once before was back again, to take just a little more.

“I’m—I’m out of bullets,” you muttered, and he seemed to shake like a leaf when you turned to look at him. He kept his eyes locked on Rick, and you were still looking at Daryl when Rick raised his gun at the impending herd of walkers, weighing down that bridge that seemed to symbolize everything good and peaceful that Rick and your group was trying to achieve for the last year and a half. Everything had led up to that structure, and now, as you turned to look at Rick again, holding that silvery Colt Python, you knew what he was doing.

There was a box of dynamite on that bridge, not explosive enough if nudged, but certainly a hazard if shot at. Now, Rick’s gun seemed to be pointed right at that box, not at any of the walkers.

You covered your mouth in horror, and the explosion seemed to be so loud it was completely silent. It was eerily similar to that moment you watched the CDC burst into flames before your eyes, and those heinous clouds of grey, oppressive smoke that plumed like mushrooms against the backdrop of the pale blue sky.

Its heat prickled against your face, which had been streaked with tears the moment you registered what had happened. Rick sacrificed the bridge, peace, himself, for the lives of your people.

The walkers stumbled over the broken wood precipice as they were engulfed in flames, becoming moving torches which extinguished with a sizzle as they plunged into the rapidly flowing river below. It would carry them out to sea, and they’d be far away from you, but would leave an incomprehensible grief in their wake.

With a tentative turn of your head, you looked to Daryl, who bowed his head and cried silently, but with a grief you hadn’t seen in him before, not since Merle.

For you, the pain reached down into the very pit of your soul, where the warm glow of memories sustained your inner life, and kept you sane in this cruel world. That glow had been penetrated deeply with the sadness of this moment, the feeling of utter despair that could only be akin to the same feeling you had every time you had lost one of your homes. Only now, this seemed more permanent, more final. Those homes, those places you had lost, they were replaceable. The memories weren’t, but you’d make new ones.

People, however, were irreplaceable, and you’d have their memories with you forever, but there would never be the chance to make new memories, or to relive them with that person. That was how it felt, only even worse, because Rick had felt like the center of your group’s world for so long, because he had been there for everything, and had symbolized to you a beacon of hope and guidance in this world. Though you didn’t agree with every decision he made, he was the only man who could do the things he had done, and now, it appeared, he was gone.

No one could fight after that moment. There wasn’t any fight left. All that could be done was to let the river take the herd out to sea, and to return home, and abandon the camp and the remains of the bridge. No one spoke on the way home, and hardly spoke for the days following the tragedy.

Daryl made sure you were settled at home again before returning to the woods and trying to find Rick’s body, both to see if he had really died in that explosion, and to give him a proper burial. He was there for about a week, then came back home again, quiet and pensive.

You hadn’t talked about it with him, not really. He hadn’t talked to anyone since it happened, but you weren’t about to let him recoil into himself again, not like he had done with Sophia and Beth. You could already see it happening, and this time, it was much more potent.

The night he came home, he was sitting on the porch, smoking a cigarette and watching the sun set. You had been asleep, because it was all you felt like doing these days, as a result of your grief and the increasing bouts of fatigue that went along with your pregnancy.

“Daryl,” you said quietly, leaning against the frame of the front door. He quickly looked up at you and began putting out his cigarette, stubbing it onto the ashtray he kept on the nearby table. “Why are you out here? It’s freezing.”

Truly, it was. The mid-November weather was quickly becoming quite harsh, and you knew it was going to be a cold winter just by the feeling in the air, and the cold in everyone’s hearts.

He shrugged and cleared his throat. You could tell he’d been crying. “Nothin’,” he said. “You shouldn’t be out here. It’s cold, and the smoke ain’t good for ya.”

You pulled the door shut behind you, and wrapped your robe tighter against the cold as you made your way over to him. “Not good for you, either,” you said, sitting yourself down next to him on the porch swing. “So I’m sitting here until you talk to me, then we can both go inside.”

Daryl looked at you seriously. “(Y/N),” he said, “I’m serious.”

You scooted closer to him, trying to share in his natural warmth. “I’m serious, too. Talk to me.”

“I… I don’t wanna talk about it.”

You wrapped your arm around his and leaned your head on his shoulder. “Okay,” you said. “You don’t have to talk about it, but I need to talk to you.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, with the loose straggling hairs hanging over his face. You pushed a few of them back with your other hand, and then sat up straighter before you took a deep breath.

“I need to know that I’m not going to lose you,” you said sadly, your eyes glassy with tears. “I know how much it affects you, and that things aren’t ever going to be the same, but I need you here.”

He nodded. “I am here. I ain’t leavin’.”

You shook your head. “No, that’s not what I mean. I know you’re staying, and if you feel like you need to go out and look for him for a few days at a time, I understand that, but I need you here, mentally. I can’t stand it if you shut me out like you have for the past week. I know you need your space, but… I also know how you isolate yourself. You might not want to talk about it now, but you need to talk to me, honey. About anything. Just… just talk to me.”

He lowered his head, in immense shame that he had been largely ignoring you for the last week since Rick’s disappearance. He still refused to call it a death, because he believed there was a possibility that he was alive. It was a very, very slim possibility, but it was there.

When he wasn’t looking for his body, he was sulking in the garage, or on the porch like he was now. He checked on you, made sure you were fed and went to bed, but he couldn’t bring himself to let him focus on anything but what happened at the bridge, and it haunted him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, in that slightly higher pitched voice you knew signalled he was crying. You wrapped your arm around him tighter, and kissed his shoulder as he began to weep. “I’m… I’m so sorry.” He raised his hands to his face and attempted to wipe his crying eyes, ashamed of his display of weakness.

You raised your head and looked at him. “Why are you sorry?” you asked sincerely, and slowly removed his hands from his face. His lips quivered and pouted, and his eyes squinted as tears fell from them in plump droplets. You cupped his jawbone in an attempt to catch the tears, but not to stop them from falling.

“‘Cause I ain’t been there for ya,” he sobbed. “I jus’... I can’t think ‘bout nothin’ else right now, but that… that last time I saw him. Think about what I coulda done… What I can do.”

“Oh, Daryl,” you said, your voice getting shakier in response to the very same image that plagued him, and to the clear agony that he was in. “There… there isn’t much you can do, sweetheart. You just have to do what you can to make it through. That’s all there is.”

He blubbered a bit, and wiped his face again in an attempt to compose himself. He hated that he was crying in front of you again, it was something he always ridiculed himself for. Anytime he cried when he was growing up, he was told it was a sign of weakness, that men never cried. He didn’t believe either of those things. He’d cried enough times throughout his life, and he knew he was a man, and that he wasn’t weak, at least, not in that way. Still, it was hard to shake that rhetoric.

“All I ask of you,” you continued, “is that you stay with me, that you stay Daryl.”

He nodded, sniffling back his tears. “I can do that,” he said. “I’m gonna do that.”

“Thank you,” you replied, and wrapped your arms around his torso. “I’m here for you. I’m always here for you, you know that, right?”

He enveloped you with his strong arms, and kissed your head. “I know, and I’m here for you, and the baby.” He rubbed his hand over your belly, which was still not yet showing the telltale sign of pregnancy, though you certainly were beginning to feel it. “I’m stayin’.”

The night fell swiftly from that point, and soon it became much too cold, even for Daryl, and you both retreated inside, with Daryl setting the elaborate locking mechanism to keep out any would-be intruders. Afterall, Negan was still alive, as Maggie ended up sparing him.

So in that way, Rick got something he wanted. Perhaps he lost the bridge, and the peace that it symbolized, but what he had left was the growing community of Alexandria, and the surviving relic of the past world found in Negan, who, in Rick’s vision, symbolized the reigning truth of peace and mercy for all.

Yes, though the bridge had failed, Rick hadn’t.

~

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

Series Masterlist Next Chapter ➳

~

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[jiminrings]

OKAY LISTEN idk if someone or you already planned sth like this but how about y/n finally decides to confess/tell jk but someone else claims to be her before she could do it so * cue to the angst bc y/n sees the whole thing/she hears from her friends * and ofc koo eventually finds out bc that b*tch doesn't even have the fucking lunchboxes 😑

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

stem koo's the three-peat king for having the best research papers, but he's the worst when it comes to believing the right person

"i think i'm gonna tell him."

you say it to no one in particular, really, but you hear yoongi rISING from his nap on the couch

it wasn't meant to wake him at all

it was just an epiphany of sorts that popped into your head

physically felt as if your head would just bursT if you didn't say it out loud to affirm your own thoughts lmao

"for real???" he's rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, very evident that he wouldn't wake up to finish his thirteen pending assignments but he 10/10 would wake up to hear your epiphany

yoongi is awake for the action!!!! lmao does professor roux from calculus think that he wakes up at the morning and doing shapes (or whatever they teach at calc) is the fIRST thing in his mind????

"interesting," he nods solemnly when you nod your head, reaching out for a fist bump before he plops to your shoulder, "i suggest dressing like a virgin wearing H&M when you confess. it would hit close to home."

yoongi's the touchy affectionate one between the two of you but you'll forgive him bc he's still sleepy

NOOOOOOO

jungkook doesn't look like a virgin wearing H&M :((((

his clothes aren't from there lol

"pass."

"say that you're a top verified contributor both in quora and brainly."

PLEAAAAAASE SJWHSHWHHWV

"nice idea," you snort as yoongs genuinely thinks that it'd get jungkook to propose on the spot, "but no cigar."

"pretend to love big bang theory."

"you're getting onto something here."

"your hobby is fact-checking rick and morty."

"yoongi wow you are on fIRE today-"

"your guilty pleasure is not wearing protective gear during experiments."

"where is this coming from??"

"OH!!!! i'll pretend to mug him or something and you can attack me!!!"

....

??????

yeah yoongi's train of thought just crashed

you were pretty sure he was going on a science theme there wHY DID IT DERAIL

yoongi looks confused because you look confused, as if he didn't just give you the mindblowing idea,, free of charge

lol but no he really didn't

"i'm not doing any of that shit, yoongs."

"oh yeah???" he squints at you and hollows his cheeks, taunting you entertainingly while he worms his way to your lap to nap again

"what are you planning to do?"

holy sHIT this is nerve-wracking

she feels like she's gonna pass out the whole time that she's been rehearsing this in her head

she's been waiting outside the classroom for twenty minutes now and the bell finally rang and she can't believe it!!!! omg is it game-time now

everyone's filing out of the room and she could just feel that jungkook would come out of the room last-

ALRIGHT FUCK THE BELL RANG

you could do this!!!!

everyone's filing out of the room and you know in your heart that jungkook would stay behind, his routine being to politely chat with the professor before he leaves

you're a lil nervous alright

you're scanning the room and there's only a few people left and your eyes instinctively go to the mini desk next to the door and-

FUCK

DID YOU FORGET TO BRING IT HOME YESTERDAY??????

goddamn it

yesterday was when coach jeong was mad because someone from your team just hAD to bring beer!!! and not even have the common sense to put it on a discreet thermos or sth and you know!!!! to not drink it in public or in front of the coach!!!!

doing laps on the oval field will now make you hurl on command just by thinking about it

you physically did not have the cognizance to go and fetch the lunchbox to wash it,,,, or like even move at all

FUCK IT

how are you gonna swipe the lunchbox now? now when the professor's packing up, jungkook's loitering around the classroom, and there's this girl who's-

wait

who's this girl??

who is she and wHY IS SHE EYEING THE LUNCHBOX

fuck it!!! here goes nothing

she's stepping completely into the room and making sure her block heels generate enough clacking,, hands already moving in practiced moments as she attempts in making it seem like she's rushedly putting the lunchbox bag into her tote — as if it's from there, and she's always done this

jungkook hears noises coming from the back of the room, eyes widening before he comes up the stairs in record time

"no. get your own."

he grips the girl's wrist, about to pry off her hands from his lunchbox

he hears her giggle sweetly, the melody being something he's heard before

"i did. after all, i did get you these."

:O

"hyeji?"

hyeji's a pretty girl!!! a nice girl in jungkook's year that wears fit dresses and cartier bangles :D

she stands out really, sometimes literally because she appears in the school's flyers and advertisements

"hyeji," jungkook breathlessly connects the dots including the fact that she looks caught in the act; holding his lunchbox, her tote bag open, and a peek of another completely different lunchbox in her other hand, "i-it's been you this whole time?"

hyeji blushes, sheepishly tucking her perfectly shiny and neat hair behind her ears, "you caught me then."

kook laughs both in nervousness and giddiness, pushing his glasses up and suddenly conscious that he should've worn contacts, "b-but how? we don't share this class."

:O

hyeji bursts into a giggle, blushed cheeks staining further than the five minutes she tried getting the perfect amount

"r-right! kinda amazing what depths you'd go for a person you like, hm?"

jungkook is about to pass out

HE'S PUT IN A SITUATION

a situation that he likes and is too giddy to find a reply for

he apparently doesn't need a reply, because a chair scrapes harshly against the floor and it brings him down to reality immediately

you cannot fucking believe what you just witnessed

you stand abruptly from the seat you've been frozen in with a great deal of urgency because you cAN'T stand to be in this room any longer

they actually forgot that the two of them aren't alone

that you're still here

little miss hyeji's just as shocked

you feel stupid and even more stupid that you're still holding a stupid notebook you even decorated

it has a doodle in the front and all the remaining pages are of the copies you've replicated on jungkook's sticky notes — the same ones you've been trying to make perfect just for him

"y/n!" he sputters when your backpack accidentally leans too much to your side and hits him on the way out

"move."

you’re feeling everything but fine and god you just hated that you always willed yourself to move oN

you’re beyond mad when you put on your jersey!!!

you’re irrevocably dejected when you put on your cleats!!!!

you feel cheated on when you zip up your duffel and walk all the way to the field!!!

it’s a combination of the type of frustration that makes you want to move plus the type that paralyzes you, the whole thing unlike anything you’ve ever felt before

you’re clearly in your head and frankly, you’re just too good

too good that there's no game at all because the only thing happening is you scoring

there's no passing going on or the sort

everyone is just :O looking at their captain to be in the most furiously determined state that they’ve ever seen you in

you don’t even realize that you’re the oNLY one moving in the whole field

“alright, alright — jesus christ! go to the bench and sort your head out, captain,” coach jeong literally has to JOG over to your spot to jolt you

oh there he is again

jaehyun just had to bench you didn’t he

sometimes it’s lost on you that jaehyun, just like seokjin, used to be your senior

he hated juniors with a burning passion and you’re the ONLY one he’s taken a tolerance for

((you lent him your umbrella and it coincidentially had to be a bad day for him tHEN that made him like you))

you’re having none of it though because this time, you’re the one who has the bad day and the captain title does nothing to appease you

“sure, coach.”

you mumble just as lively and walk to completely the fURTHEST side of the bleachers, being so far out that you could barely see your team

what are you supposed to do? simmer in the thoughts you so badly didn’t want to have in silence??????

"y/n?"

the voice you least expected to hear perks up right next to you

what the hell is jungkook doing here now??

he looks lost, two hands clinging onto his backpack straps before tentatively looking at you again

“did i do anything to upset you?”

so he wants to ask that?

you snort automatically, suddenly wishing that you didn’t walk this far because you can’t make an excuse that jaehyun’s calling for you

"because my bag accidentally hit you on the way out? no, jungkook."

jungkook knits his brows in question, seemingly take offense to what you’ve just said to hom

"we're not exactly associated for me to be mad at you, are we?" you emphasize even further, not caring the least bit that your words have an edge to them

he deadpans, pursing his lips before sarcastically smiling at you

".... so you're upset at me?"

://

jungkook takes your silence for him to delve further, not paying attention to how your eye is begging to twitch at him

"i asked if i did anything to upset you, and you said no. but that doesn't necessarily mean you aren't. you could be upset at me even if i didn't do anything to you."

wow

you sound like a real fucking nerd jungkook

"do you have any idea how condescending you sound right now?"

kook barely has a solid inch on you yet the nagging feeling that he’s belittling you makes you grip your fists tight, posture wavering

"so you do admit that you're upset at me?"

he’s not the most patient person either but something about you and the situation right now just makes him tick a little faster

your eyes narrow at what he’s aiming to get at, your hand on your hip feeling heavy at this point

"what does it matter to you if i'm upset or not? we are not-"

"i am associated to you!!! even to a degree!!! you walked me home!"

jungkook is the one who breaks first and he doesn’t look fazed to have opposed you so loudly, still standing by himself

"i would walk anyone home."

"no you wouldn't-"

"i would walk anyone who was as vulnerable and as anxious as you were, jungkook!!"

it is true

you’d walk anyone home within reason regardless if they were jungkook or not!!!

the guy in question only looks at you straightly, brows not stubborn but still just as unrelaxed

:((

"good to know. then you're not upset at me, and i didn't do anything to upset you."

"sure."

you only say just to spite him, about to turn your back and leave him completely to go back to your practice game

jungkook surprises you again and flips a switch just as quick as your mini argument of sorts escalated

"anyways!! i'm sorry for being a little off when i interviewed you that day. i got a 100 on that assignment, by the way :))"

what?

what’s he still doing here?

he’s talking about his grades and whatnot to you as if literally twenty seconds ago did nOT happen!!

"why are you still-"

"and the one who's been giving me my lunchboxes confessed to me today!! for hyeji to be the girl giving me them, it makes perfect sense."

you shrug away the weirdness that jungkook’s moved on from the argument as fast as this, trying a take two for a peaceful conversation

this time, you’re the one who unknowingly flips a switch at her name — something so foreign and sudden yet something you quickly grew to hate

"i wouldn't be so trusting if i were you."

that seems to hit a nerve on him again, making him scoff in reply

"good thing you aren't me then."

what is ON with him????

"watch it. i'm your senior, kid."

you’re more irritated than the first and second time around that you’ve been agitated this day

"why? are you normally this self-absorbed that you wouldn't trust a girl who's confessed??"

self-absorbed?

you aren’t the most selfless person ever but god do you know for a fact that you’re not vain as jungkook’s insisting you to be

you hate him.

you hate this version of him that isn’t the same jungkook you’ve known to like ever since the start of the semester

"same thing as polygraphs not being a hundred percent reliable. anyone could tell the truth as long as you ask the wrong questions," you detail on further because jungkook loves details, right? might as well give him several

"or did you even ask?"

jungkook scowls as if you’ve insulted his mother and his entire lineage, face contorting into everything but warm

"what does it matter to you? didn't you just tell me that we aren't associated? why are you projecting all your moaning on hyeji?"

WHAT

WHAT????

"you know what? maybe i am associated to you. i think i'd also tell this to everyone i'd walk home — maybe you shouldn't be too trusting, huh? maybe you shouldn't just let anyone walk you home."

the tears this time are more insistent to come out this time but you’d rather dIE than for jungkook to stain your pride like this

"no one should walk me home, besides you? is that what you're trying to say?"

no!!

for fuck's sake you aren't even finished with your point!!

before you could continue, jungkook shakes his head at you — the most disappointing shake of his head that it curses you soft

"what am i even doing? you wouldn't understand."

he closes the distance that’s been alarmingly shorter throughout the whole time, jungkook being the one to break it

"because no one gives you lunchboxes. no one exerts effort in making you cheerful — no one wants to go the extra mile for you, and no one wants to walk you home."

he's insulting you right to your face and that’s when your dam breaks, lips quivering impossibly as you stare him down with a genuinely pained gaze you didn’t know you carried

"you wouldn't know what i feel, because no one likes you."

jungkook gets the last word in.

he leaves you in the same field he's first approached you in nervousness.

today, he leaves it differently.

sweat isn't the only thing on your face but instead it’s the frustrating hot tears you haven’t had in awhile

your fists are balled but there's no power to the anger behind it

you’re almost always alone outside the company of the closest friends you’ve ever had — but this is the only time that you truly felt that you are alone.

today's a good day to give up on jungkook.

[sylenth-l]

Cayde... is an interesting character to me. A real mixed bag. What doesn't help is D1 and D2 painted wildly different pictures of him. In D1, he's stuffed in a tower and a job he hates, but he's helping you do yours, he's coordinating and corralling the Hunters, he's pretty good at what he does. Best exemplified in Taken King's opening cinematic where Ikora and Zavala are arguing, Cayde's looking at the Dreadnaught's schematics intently then leaves, ready to enact a bold plan of action. Oh, and the casual confession that he stole clocking tech from Rasputin for Bladedancers. Dude was cunning and wily as hell.

D2 turned what was a semi-playful semi-sarcastic sense of humour and frustration with being stuck in the tower into a on character onto itself.

He's far more serious in D1, and I honestly prefer THAT Cayde. A Cayde closer to Malcolm Reynolds, not Rick Castle. The one that did a lot of growing up in the Tower, just like Andal did a lot of growing up in that Tower.

That being said, I like to think the D2 depiction of Cayde was what he was like in Andal's pack. He's the joker, the wise cracker, the Charlie Chaplin etc etc.

I get that Cayde's getting out of the Tower more and he enjoyed the freedom to act a little more openly in the wilds but the different characterizations between 1 and 2 are just so jarring to try and reconcile - even with caveats.

What do you think?

Oh yeah, I totally get what you mean, anon! TTK's Cayde is peak of his character to me, surely the best and my favorite depiction of him on screen. He had just the right balance of jokery and seriousness there, knew when it's time to fool around and when it's time to get shit done - still in his own unique way.

I feel that the narration was a bit messed up in his case, it would make more sense if D1's and D2's Caydes just… switched places, you know? Personally, I didn't play D1, but was interested in the franchise right from its announcement and occasionally watched some videos, read news about it, etc. By the D2's release I knew some very basic info about its world and plot, but nothing in particular; so it's safe to say I got to know characters only in D2. And AFTER THAT got back to D1 and properly watched all available story campaigns from there. And it felt… Strangely normal? In Cayde's case, perfectly logical even - D1 felt like a cool development of his character, lol. I liked him in vanilla D2 too, he still was my fave there; and then I learned that actually he was even cooler than I thought, aren't that nice! And only after all that I finally took time to actually read the lore and got literally mind blown. That's also when Cayde jumped from the list of characters I like to my favorite ones.

I mean, I was learning (and still do tbh) about both games in an absolutely chaotic, unstructured and messed up way, but for getting to know Cayde it turned out to be the best, I think. I met him as a pretty generic funny robot guy, then I found out that he actually has a more serious and competent side, which made me like him even more and finally, after reading his diary and some other lore (especially about Exos in general), I got a clear picture of who he really was and what events shaped him to be like that. It was like unwrapping a delicious candy and it's one of things I personally always look for in all media.

But I can understand very well why people who played all games and DLCs in chronological order, think of D2's Cayde as a downgrade compared to D1. I personally think that this issue isn't only about Cayde, D2 as a whole had a... different mood on release. Felt like they were trying to do a "soft reboot" to make the plot and characters simplier and more appealing to the new audience, but had either too little time or too little budget to do it properly. So I'd say I don't think D2's Cayde is super different from D1's Cayde, it's just that… He was acting according to the events and in line with the story's mood, then got killed off in the beginning of the 1st ~serious~ expansion (which ironically got serious only thanks to his death) and that was it. In D2 we never saw him in a darker plot such as TTK; I think if we did, he would naturally act more similar to D1. And about this:

That being said, I like to think the D2 depiction of Cayde was what he was like in Andal's pack.

I don't know, I think back then he was 10 times worse 😂 D2's Cayde obviously had some idea of responsibility and tried to think through his actions, considered some risks at least - not that much about himself, but about people around him for sure. These being the qualities he clearly developed only after Andal's death. I think it was a huge turning point for his character, mercilessly chopping his whole life to "before" and "after". Andal becoming the Vanguard and then dying because of what Cayde thought to be entirely his fault was probably the first and biggest backslash of his own poorly thought out actions. Not first ever of course, but first that huge and painful. Because of his own idiocy and arrogance he lost his best, closest friend, that one man he admired to no end and who - miraculously - loved him back just as much (like, you can ship candal or not, it's perfectly okay obviously, but there's no way to not notice how special they were to each other). And then he couldn't do that anymore, due to the state of being undeniably, irreparably, absolutely dead. And why? Because of Cayde himself, of course. And it cost me my friend—I cost me my friend. GG.

Ah, I really got carried away, didn't I 😅

TL;DR: I 100% agree with you on TTK's Cayde being the best Cayde, but I don't think D2's Cayde is too bad either. And they both were absolutely more mature and responsible than the disaster named Cayde back from the old days with Andal & Co, lol.

So my chain of Cayde's evolution will be this: the Pack's Cayde ❯ D2's Cayde ❯ D1's Cayde.

Sorry for the wall of text and thanks for asking, it was interesting to try to collect my thoughts on this 💙

[shadowglens]

some diego facts for you on this fine saturday:

full name is diego beck

yes i made yet another oc with a green aesthetic, bite me

accounting grad from atlanta, very logical and numbers orientated in general and incredibly quick with his mind. also has a gnack for inventory management and taxes (one of these things was more valuable than the other ahsdjfad)

glenn’s roomate in atlanta! they studied together at the same community college and have been roomies since they were 18. diego would sometimes drive glenn around on his pizza delivery shifts when he was bored because he likes the company. glenn spent many big occasions (christmas, etc) at the beck household when it was too expensive for him to fly back to michigan, and diego’s mum and extended family were always very welcoming (”by the grace of god glenn rhee you will eat this slice of pie and put some meat on those skinny little bones of yours!” [queue diego and his siblings cackling in the background as their mum all-but force feeds glenn every time he comes over]).

very talkative and sarcastic, and generally a pretty positive person to be around (at least he was before the world went to hell). tries to see the best in most situations, but also does become a lot more jaded and realistic as time goes by. clings to his hope like a life raft.

he and glenn had originally fled to diego’s family home on the outskirts of atlanta when things initially went to shit, but the house had already been overrun. diego, never having held a gun or weapon of any kind, had to watch as glenn put a bullet between his little sister’s eyes. not long after, the pair were saved by t-dog.

is obviously very close with glenn and t-dog, but is also good friends with maggie, rosita and rick! carl thinks he’s super cool and looks up to him a lot. he and daryl start off in a bad place (re: his racist older brother), but grow to be good pals. diego thinks ezekiel is a total dude lol.

after glenn’s death, diego essentially attaches himself to maggie’s hip and refuses to leave her alone (”i love you like a sister mags, not to mention you’ve got my best friends kid in your belly, so yeah, you’re stuck with me.” 🥺). he has always been good with plants and gardening, so takes to living at hilltop really well, all things considered. also, jesus is there, which makes diego all 👀👉👈🥴

[glassbxttles]

What the Boys Call You & What You Call Them

Clyde: Clyde calls you every single endearing name he can think of. You don’t think he’s ever actually used your first name. But he’s particularly fond of Honeybee. You’ve always loved calling Clyde, sweetheart. His cheeks get all hot and he blushes red up to his ears and down into his chest. He also loves the ode you give to his earlier years with slugger. 

Flip: Your Flip’s little bird. He’s whispering Birdie into your ear whenever he can before he asks you a question. You’ve always loved the name, you’d earned it on a date in the very beginning of your relationship and it’s stuck like glue. You loved using his full first name, since it got under his skin in the cutest of ways. When you’d get irritated by the simple things, such as Flip not putting your leftovers from dinner in Tupperware and instead just putting the whole pan in the fridge, you’d shout Phillip and his face would go hot. 

Sackler: Kid. Adam couldn’t get through the day without calling you the name at least a dozen times every two hours, it seemed. You never used pet names with Adam. It just never occurred to you to use them and Adam never seemed to mind. Just whispering an Adam into his ear in the morning would make him smile a mile wide. When you’d yell Sackler at him when he continuously tried to piss you off, he’d duck into your shared bedroom, knowing he’d get it later. 

Daniel: Daniel is a sweetheart, a film nerd. He knew cinema like the back of his hand, although he didn’t have the time for it like he’d like. You always called Daniel, Dan or Danny. Maybe you’d even call him my love, when he really needed the lovings. Daniel always called you some sort of variation of Peach. Sweet Peach, Peaches, Peach; was all fair game to Danny boy. 

Charlie: Charlie’s little muffin. That's it. That’s the tweet lol. Charlie was your Love Bug. 

Ronnie: You were Ronnie’s little pumpkin. It was an ode to your October anniversary. During your bedroom talk, you always called Ronnie, Officer Peterson. On day to day, although you’d never tell him, you referred to him as your songbird. To his face, you called him sweetheart. 

Rick: Inspired by Rick’s travels and a photograph of a few deer that you absolutely treasured, he’d taken to calling you Bambi. You called Rick, Ricki or Froggy. Which had a whole story to itself that you were just as embarrassed to tell as he was hearing it. 

Phillip: Pussycat started off as a joke. It was never meant to be a pet name, per se, but there you were. Ironically and sarcastically being called a name that made your core tight and your underwear wet. You adopted calling him Philly. And sometimes when you wanted to throw in a lame joke, it would be Philly cheese steak. 

Matt: Matt always used your first name until you stayed over for the first time. The sunlight was coming through the window of his bedroom and hitting you just right, you’ve been Sunshine ever since. You always called Matt, Matty and the more uncommon, Matthew if you were pissed. On game nights you’d call him doll face just to hear the onslaught of whip noises and whistles from his friends and see the blush creep up Matt’s neck. 

Kylo: Kylo always, always, always, called you Princess. no ifs, ands, or buts. Using his name always held more weight than any sort of pet name you could give him. But he did enjoy hearing the simple ones; babe, lovely, sweetheart, honey, and baby fall from your lips. 

Ben: Ben loved making it known that you were heaven sent. That’s where Angel came from. You would blush and smile and hit him on the shoulder when he’d mutter it to you. He loved hearing, bub in your voice. When you’d call it from the kitchen, he’d smile brightly and get up to see just what you needed from him. 

Jude: Jude loved calling you baby, but not as much as he loved calling you Dove. On your first date, you two fed pigeons in the park, where you both saw two little doves sitting a bit away from you. You mentioned that doves mate for life and since then Jude hasn’t used your real name. Sometimes you’d call him, Judie, no one had ever called him that before and it’d always bring a smile to his face after his initial protest of; “Judie’s a girls name.”

[raith-way]

Here's a question...what is the main canon characters' favourite thing about your OC? (this applies to all of your ocs ;) lol and I hope this question makes sense lol)

It totally makes sense! It's so fun to think about, and I'm going to try to keep it somewhat simple because I feel like this is the kind of question that I can make way too complicated with rambling. Thank you so much for the ask!!

Soundtrack Of The Revolution [fandom: my chemical romance & avenged sevenfold]

Tyler Raith

Matt: Easygoing nature. He loves that Tyler is so easy to be around; even when they were still strangers, he felt comfortable in her presence instead of defensive like he usually is with strangers.

Gerard: Caretaker. His favorite thing about Tyler is also the thing that worries him the most, and that's her need to take care of everyone around her and how much she genuinely loves just making sure that the people around her feel loved and cared for.

Ronnie: Fierceness. He knows that she'll fight for them and will never back down.

Taylor: Honesty. Knowing that Tyler will always tell the truth, no matter the consequences, is a comfort after spending so much time with people who only tell half-truths at best.

Things Are Getting A Little Hazy [fandom: buffy the vampire slayer]

Grace Blackburn

Angel: Stubbornness. He will never admit it, but he loves how stubborn Grace is and that she won't give up. (Especially on him.)

Spike: Forgiveness. He makes mistakes, but Grace always forgives him. Even if she yells at him and finds way to pay him back for doing idiotic things, she still forgives him.

Buffy: Bluntness. If asked outright, Grace will tell her the truth. Even if it's something that Buffy isn't ready to hear.

Faith: Dumbness. She doesn't think that Grace herself is dumb, but Grace does the most idiotic things sometimes for the right reasons.

Eliot Greenwood

Angel: Ability to adapt. Eliot can adapt to any situation, which has saved lives (including Angel's).

Spike: Everything. Not an exaggeration. Even the things about Eliot that get on Spike's nerves, like his insistence on not causing chaos, he still loves.

Buffy: Ability to listen. If Eliot has questions or concerns, he asks her directly and listens to her explain her plans and reasonings instead of just writing her off as some kid.

Faith: Ability to care. They fight and argue, but Eliot will never storm off without telling her that he cares about her first.

Memento Series [fandom: dceu / snyderverse / suicide squad]

Ryan Lopez

Bruce: Understanding. While having someone around that not only knows him but also understands him sets him on edge, it's his favorite thing about Ryan.

Rick: Anger. Every time that Rick is around Ryan, she's angry and ready for a fight which is exactly why he calls her for help.

Harley: Boldness. Ryan just does not care about the opinions of others, and Harley honestly loves that about her and for her.

Revina Revnic

Bruce: Training. Despite her grating personality and that he doesn't really like her being in the same general area as him, he respects her training and that she knows what she's doing.

Rick: Trust. At the end of the day, Rick can trust Rev. It doesn't matter what kind of situation that they're in, he can trust her to watch his back.

Harley: Friendship. She understands that Rev is kind of like her jailor, but Rev is her friend and loves her. She can talk to Rev about anything, without judgment or Rev telling her to shut up. If anything, Rev encourages her to talk more.

Kit Kelley

Bruce: Loyalty. Bruce knows that Kit takes his loyalties very seriously, and that Kit would do anything for Ryan and would never betray her. Even when Bruce doesn't agree with Kit, he still respects him.

Rick: Efficiency. Kit switches between being quietly sarcastic and a shameless flirt, but he's always efficient in his task. If Rick needs something done and needs it done right, he gives Kit a call.

Harley: Compassion. Kit cares so much, about everyone, and she loves that about him. That he can care so much about a complete stranger and will go out of his way to help anyone.

Starving Faithful [fandom: fast & furious series]

Kat Ellis

Dom: Trust. Kat's tough, has been ever since the first time they met, but she isn't afraid to let her guard down and trusts him enough to see her when she's vulnerable.

Mia: Friendship. Despite Kat being younger, they've been close friends almost from the moment that they met. Mia knows that she can call Kat at any time, and her friend will be there.

Brian: Protectiveness. Kat accepts him as family, and she protects her family and will fight for them. As someone who never had much of a family growing up, he loves that she's protective over him.

Letty: Loyalty. They don't always see eye-to-eye, but Letty knows that Kat is loyal to all of them. Letty included, even when they're currently fighting.

Jakob: Empathy. Kat always tries to understand why people do things, what they're feeling, and he loves that she never judges people and only tries to understand.

Traversing The Multiverse [fandom: marvel / mcu]

Mac Rowe

Tony: Charm. Unlike the kind of charm that he learned to put on earlier in his life, Mac is effortlessly charming without even trying. He loves seeing people after Mac has finished talking to them, because they always look a little brighter and awestruck.

Steve: Optimism. No matter what is going on, Mac can find a positive spin to put on things.

Bruce: Fearlessness. Bruce is convinced that Mac has no fear, especially since she keeps insisting on jumping at him without announcing herself.

Thor: Humor. Mac is always laughing, always eager to listen to his stories and laugh with him. She also enjoys helping him find things to laugh over.

Bucky: Kindness. After what he's been through, he still isn't used to someone being so endlessly kind. Mac goes out of her way to make him feel both comfortable and like he belongs.

Kenzie Rowe

Tony: Sass. Even when she sounds bubbly, she's sassing people left and right. His favorite hobby is sitting back and watching Kenzie confuse people by destroying them with cutting words in a cheerful tone.

Steve: Honesty. Kenzie never holds back on her thoughts, even if what she is saying isn't what anyone wants to hear.

Bruce: Stubbornness. She won't back down, from a fight or from a conversation. She's told him more than once that she's going to love and accept him until he learns to do it for himself.

Thor: Fighting spirit. Kenzie is fierce and glorious in battle, whether it involves fists or words. She has the true spirit of a warrior.

Bucky: Patience. Sometimes Kenzie will sit in a room with him for hours without saying anything, until he's ready to speak. She never rushes him or pushes him.

Jamie Barnes

Tony: Intelligence. She's in a new universe, and it isn't slowing her down. Jamie is smart and soaks up knowledge like a sponge, and he loves when she comes to him with questions because he knows that she's going to listen to him and keep asking questions until she understands.

Steve: Bravery. Jamie admits when she's afraid, but she doesn't let her fear stop her from doing what she believes is the right thing.

Bruce: Sincerity. He never doubts her words or intentions, because Jamie is always genuine. He finds her presence extremely relaxing.

Thor: Endurance. He knows that Jamie has suffered trials and tragedy, but she continues to live and to fight. Thor respects her, both on and off the battlefield.

Bucky: Survival. Looking at Jamie is like looking in a mirror for him. His favorite thing about Jamie is that she was able to survive what happened to her, and it gives him hope that he can too.

[mercyprevaild-a]

Oh oh oh the pairings meme for Alex and Rick :)

send me a pairing...

proposes - Rick

shops for groceries - Rick or together. More fun together.

kills the spiders - Rick usually tries to put them outside

comes home drunk at 3am - Alex... or maybe Rick in assassin verse.

remembers to feed the fish - Both!

initiates duets - Alex

falls asleep first - Could be either I think.

plans spontaneous trips - Alex

wakes the other up at 3am demanding pancakes - Alex and Rick will drag her back into bed calling her crazy.

sends the other unsolicited nudes - Come on now. We both know that's Alex.

brags about knowing karate even though they never made it past yellow belt - Personally I feel like Alex would be a black belt...

comes to a complete halt outside bakeries/candy shops - Both!

blows sarcastic kisses after doing ridiculous shit - Alex lol (Rick in assassin verse tho)

killed the guy (also, which hid the body) - This might be verse dependent lol but I'll just say both

wears the least clothing around the house - Alex wears the least amount of clothing all the time

has icky sentimental moments for no apparent reason - Rick (but Alex gets soft too and we know it)

[serendipitous-magic]

when you were talking about stylistic influences, you said that you found it hard to do comedy. would you mind elaborating on that? i also find that there's very little writing that makes me LOL, and most of what does is fanfic. have you seen comedy done well in writing (novels, fic, etc.)? how do you approach it yourself? (btw fwiw i think your comedic sense is great)

Writing comedy is like writing a sex scene. You have to maintain tension. Except, I find comedy 200% harder, because with sex scenes you can rely on physicality. It’s a momentum built on what and how the character feels. There’s expectation and payoff, just like with comedy - except, in comedy, the payoff often hinges on surprise. A reversal of expectations - or, if not a reversal, simply something you didn’t expect. A huge amount of comedy is made up of the unexpected. We laugh because we’re taken off guard.

Ex:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1D61dV18TNE

Ex:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zBJU9ndpH1Q

Ex:

Ex:

Now, not all humor is based on shock or Wacky Zany Unexpectedness, but I would argue that all humor relies on a sort of momentum, a tension. It’s something you have to actively keep up throughout the duration of however long the humor is supposed to last - and if you’re writing a comedy, that’s the whoooole thing. It’s performative, in a way. You can’t create comedy passively, even if part of the humor relies on silence or expectant pauses; you have to be engaged, start to finish. It takes a lot of creative energy, even for people who have a gift or passion for it.

And moreover, even for people with a natural gift for comedy, it’s a skill. You get better at it when you practice. There are rhythms and shortcuts and rules of thumb.

I would say this may be especially true when you’re writing, because (unless you’re working with a co-writer), writing is just you. If you’re an actor or performer you have your co-stars to play off of; or, at the very least, you likely have an audience. Humans naturally feed off of each other’s emotional states. We’re herd animals. Ever noticed how it’s 1000% easier to laugh when you’re around friends than when you’re alone? For me, it’s even much easier to laugh when I’m listening to a podcast or watching a video than when I’m reading, because hearing human voices tricks my brain into thinking, “Oh, it’s Social Time!”

I personally find writing pure comedy difficult because it’s just me, sitting alone in a room typing words on a screen. However, I also haven’t done much comedy, and like I said it’s a practicable skill, so I’m sure I’d get better at it if I made a real effort to practice.

Comedy well done in novels:

Douglas Adams! Especially The Hitchhiker’s Guide series. Classic touchstone of literary comedy in my opinion. 

“The ships hung in the sky in much the same way that bricks don't.”

“For a moment, nothing happened. Then, after a second or so, nothing continued to happen.”

“In the beginning the Universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move.”

Terry Pratchett also does a great job at humor - I especially enjoyed his team-up with Neil Gaiman for Good Omens:

“All tapes left in a car for more than about a fortnight metamorphose into Best of Queen albums.” 

“Most books on witchcraft will tell you that witches work naked. This is because most books on witchcraft are written by men.”

“The Kraken stirs. And ten billion sushi dinners cry out for vengeance.”

They also do a fantastic job with situational humor, such as Crowley’s car being on fire and the one random guy giving directions completely ignoring it because he’s like “Well, surely he must know his car is on fire.” 

Rick Riordan:

“Ever come home and found your room messed up? Like some helpful person (hi, Mom) has tried to “clean” it, and suddenly you can’t find anything? And even if nothing is missing, you get that creepy feeling like somebody’s been looking trough your private stuff and dusting everything with lemon furniture polish?”

“I’ve met plenty of embarrassing parents, but Kronos, the evil Titan Lord who wanted to destroy Western Civilization? Not the kind of dad you invited to school for Career Day.”

“He’d changed since the last summer. Instead of Bermuda shorts and a T-shirt, he wore a button-down shirt, khaki pants, and leather loafers. His sandy hair, which used to be so unruly, was now clipped short. He look like an evil male model, showing off what the fashionable college-age villain was wearing to Harvard this year.”

“We only came close to dying six or seven times which I thought was pretty good. A minute later Annabeth hit a slippery patch of moss and her foot slipped. Fortunately she found something else to put it against. Unfortunately that something was my face.”

J.K. Rowling:

I love me a smart-ass narrator.

“This is night, Diddykins. That's what we call it when it goes all dark like this.”

“Lee Jordan was finding it difficult not to take sides. 'So — after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating —' 'Jordan!' growled Professor McGonagall. 'I mean after that open and revolting foul —' 'Jordan, I'm warning you —' 'All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession.”

-_-_-_-

I’m having trouble finding the funniest quotes, but y’all know what I’m talking about.

As far as how I approach it myself:

Well, see the top up there. (Waaaaay up there before my whole lecture, lol.) If I’m trying to write something humorous, I approach it from an angle of momentum or energy. Keep up a kind of tension, even if the scene itself is fairly laid-back, and play on unexpectedness - sometimes situational, sometimes in phrasing or dialogue. A snarky narrator is always a good way to add an edge. 

Basically, if I’m trying to be funny in my writing, I write as if I’m joking around with a group of friends - the group of friends being my audience. Same ballpark. Reference inside jokes (which were established earlier in the story), play on repetition and reversal of expectations, joke around about “relatable” things (much of early meme humor relied on this), be sarcastic or dry or exaggerated as the situation calls for. Even if there’s no one really there and I’m just typing words on a page, I find it much easier to approach humor if I come at it from a perspective of kidding around with my audience and having fun with them, instead of just sitting by myself at my desk writing words.

Well that was kind of all over the place but hopefully it answered your questions!

I should start a consistent tag for these asks where I accidentally write long-winded essays on how I write.

[janchriseurope]

Hampton Court Flower Show

Although I really hate gardening... I really love flower shows. We have been to them in Christchurch with Lynnette and Rick, and the Auckland one with Bren. When Mary said she had the opportunity to get tickets for the second day of the Hampton Court show, both Chris and I were delighted. We planned our trip around this date

The day dawned bright and clear with a slight wind. We had a leisurely start, waiting for the bus run to be completed, then headed to the flat at Wimbledon, where we would leave the car for the day. From there, we took the train to the Hampton Court station. We decided to take the boat to the gate to save 15 min walk. Chris can now say he’s been on the Thames!

People were streaming into the site by boat and foot. Pink was the colour of the day. With tents and everything official in what we in Nz would call breast cancer pink!!

Mary and Chris A went their was and Chris W and I headed through the throngs to look at the displays.

The show was set out over 25ha with waterway in between. There was a natural flow to the area which made it relatively easy to get around and see the stalls and displays. However, if I never see one of those plastic cube trundles again it will be far too soon!! You took your ankles and live at risk every time you moved!!

The first tent we went into was the roses. Wow - packed with amazing roses and shoulder to shoulder with hot people!! I was given a David Austin catalogue. Not that I’ll be buying roses any time soon but one can dream...

We got out of the rose tent quickly and headed over the bridge, nice and orderly- to the left those going over one side, right side those returning.

We had an ice cream because Chris W had the start of a migraine and it helped cool his head. He was able to see after about 20 minutes!! Interesting photos taken in this state!!

Around the stalls, everything from gloves for little people to equestrian gear. Know you’re in England now .. I do like the cut of the jackets.

We came across a cheese stall ... yum. Wensleydale cheese with lemon and honey, mature cheddar and cheddar with mustard and beer. Guess what we carted around for the rest of the day. The cheeses were about 5 cm round by the same deep. Having eaten the aged cheddar with dinner tonight, I can tell you it was worth the effort... thanks CW!!! Lol 😂

The largest tent held all sorts of amazing flowers, cactus, and plants. Right inside were the gladdies... I want them ... will be checking out the catalogue with anticipation! The sweet peas ohh was tempted to buy a mixed packet but really don’t want to even think about customs on the way home!! Then there were the tuberous begonias and the LIlies ... did I happen to mention that I actually hate gardening??? Oh yeah I did ...

The Bonzai trees were a wonder ... patience, foresight, inspiration, confidence and... green fingers - non of which I have!! What truly got me gobsmacked was the “weeds” they were selling .... this is the stuff I grow well until Beachy looks, takes a deep breath, and says, nope it’s a weed!!!! Apparently wild woodland was the theme... taken to heart by most of the displays.

Outside in the trade areas were lots of different styles glass houses and gazebos. I didn’t think English suburbs had enough room in their back yard for these. Some were rustic, others Mediterranean and others just plain weird.

Highlight of this area was the wee electric mower that mowed each day... all by its self.. using algorithms and strategically placed wires. Yeah... naaa!!

Into the country style tent with all the goodies for sale. Everything from fresh water pearls to old maps, scarves to Yorkshire woollen coats ... Lisa would have loved the orange plaid one. I bought a necklace to replace my pretty glass one that broke when I knocked it off the dresser in Brugges.

Message sent to Mary that we were sitting outside the pavilion with a cold drink. She joined us and we continued our wander after a well earned sit. Chris found Pork scratching ... phew hot and spicy.. I found mince square .. there were all sorts of pies but they were cold. The mince square, aka fly cemetery for Coasters, was beautifully flavoured but in a short crust. Good but I make better lol 😂

On we wandered. There were several cheese stalls but we had enough and didn’t want to be tempted. Dodging prams, people with wire supports for plants, bloody cubes, zimmerframes, motorised chairs and baby buggies, it was a trail for any saint. I found I got very sarcastic when yet another bloody cube tried to run me over or decapitate my ankles!!!

We finally, about 4.45, decided enuf was enough and headed to find a seat and a drink. We messaged Chris A to say there was a beer for him ... London Pride... if he could find us... good lad, within minutes he appeared and we commandeered a picnic table. Major accomplishment by Mary because the place was packed. Two beers, Pimms and a wine later, we were almost human and ready to launch out on the last leg towards the gate.

A noticeable thing was the number and variety of gins stalls. Not being a gun drinker this didn’t appeal .. also Pimms.. which I do like and did have one... only one at £7!!! It was lovely and cold and I rinsed our the cup with water to get thoroughly hydrated.

We decided to walk to the train station and have a quick look at the castle. Wow huge place it goes on forever... CW said he would have got bored as a bricky because the buildings were so big.

Mary was keeping tabs on the cricket ... shame the NZers playing weren’t as conscientious.....

Chris wandered out the gate, heading the wrong direction and I called to him.. two ‘Bobbies’ were standing there and asked if they could help him .... No thanks I’m just a lost Kiwi.... just like the cricket team... the bobbies were very polite and didn’t rub it in.

Onto a 10 carriage train back to Wimbledon to the car and home. Very weary travellers.

CA and Mary put together a wonderful cold collation, shrimps, salmon, ham, salad, cheeses, bread and crackers. What a feast. Mary and I had a lovely bubbly and an early night... after a little tennis watching.... was had!!

[sam-lives-story]

#SamLives - Chapter 4

“Paranoia”

[Previous|Next]

Also find the latest chapters of this story on [Archive Of Our Own]

It was on Day 11 that Jack got a message from Robin that sent a chill down his spine. He’d been sitting on the couch at the time, watching some Rick and Morty with Sam curled up asleep in his lap. The little eyeball was as comfortable as could be with Jack gently petting his “head”...and that’s when his phone went off.

Robin: Hey Jack...did you have plans for the Egos that I didn’t know about? Lmao

Jack blinked, staring at the screen. He frowned and typed a message back.

Jack: No...? Only what we’ve talked about, but I thought that wasn’t until next month. Why? Robin: Nice job on the editing practice then. Looks like your Anti skills are improving.

And now Jack was very, very confused.

Jack: What are you talking about? Robin: That last recording you sent me, for Subnautica. It looked great!

Jack sat up straighter, making Sam stir from his sleep, but he barely noticed.

Jack: Robin, I didn’t edit that recording at all. I haven’t recorded anything for Anti in ages. Robin: What are you talking about it? I’m watching it right now. Jack: Send it to me?

A few minutes later, Jack was at his computer with Sam on his shoulder, watching the short clip that Robin had sent him, playing it on a loop. That...wasn’t possible. No. What the hell...?

“...heeeey Reefies!” On-screen Jack was saying. “Aww, I love you guys. Be back soon! Alright, heading to the Deep Down Dark Deep Down. Gotta visit my base, visit my lockers, ‘cause I’m a stupid who forgot all the valuable stuff and left it in a place that takes FUCKIN’ FOREVER TO GET TO! Fuuuuck it so muuuuuch! Heheh...” Video-Jack chuckled at his own reference to Simulacra, and it was at that moment that a shadow appeared, glitching, behind him on screen. Just over his shoulder, against the wall. A familiar face grinned from the shadows, and a high-pitched, distorted laugh played in the recording. The video itself glitched, Jack included. Then Video-Jack shivered, glancing over his shoulder, and the figure - Anti - was gone. It was so quick that he wouldn’t have caught it in his brief skim-through of the recorded footage before he sent it to Robin. And it looked just like all those hints he had dropped in his videos during October before Anti had first shown up in “Say Goodbye”.

Except...except Jack hadn’t recorded that. Jack hadn’t done that. Jack hadn’t...made that face, laughed that laugh. He hadn’t done that...and suddenly he felt very, very scared. Then rationality kicked in and he giggled hysterically, running a hand through his hair.

He was being stupid. He was being dramatic. Obviously Robin had edited this, and was making a joke of it. That bit with Anti...it had to be part of the unused footage from a previous project. It had to be. He shook his phone free from his hoodie pocket and tapped out a shaky text.

Jack: Haha, very funny. You got me! I was actually scared there for a second! Jack: You’re such a troll lol

But Robin’s next message didn’t make him feel any better.

Robin: Man I’m not trolling you. I thought you edited that?

Jack could barely keep his hands from shaking as he tried to respond. He swallowed thickly, a dull fear washing over him.

Jack: No, I didn’t. That...I never did that. Unless I’ve learned to edit in my sleep I have no idea how that got into the video

Unless...

“Belief. I’m talking about belief....and how it can do amazing, impossible things...”

The words Mark had spoken to him a few days prior were bouncing around in his head again, echoing and repeating and playing on loop. Mark had been about to tell him something, before the call had ended. Something about belief. Something about Sam, but kind of not. Something that he didn’t get to finish saying because...he swallowed, both hands clutching at his hair as he sank in his desk chair.

Because the call had started to flood with static, and then his phone had shocked him. Which he wasn’t even aware a smartphone could do, not when it was mostly unharmed like Jack’s was.

Another buzz from his phone alerted him to another message from Robin.

Robin: Wait, so you didn’t put that bit with Anti in the other video either?

Jack scrambled to pick up his phone, fumbling with it for a moment.

Jack: What video? Robin: The upload from this morning, the first one. The “Reading Your Comments” video. Robin: You were answering some question about the egos...? I thought you were just messing with the community so I left it in. Robin: But when I saw the second one in the Subnautica recording you sent me I thought I should ask.

Jack rapidly pulled up the video on his computer, scrubbing through it until he found the question Robin was talking about, because he already knew which one it was. He’d responded with something totally off-topic, something unrelated, just to be funny...and sure enough, as Video-Jack was reading the question aloud, there was a little visual distortion. Not much, but if you were looking for it, you’d see it. And way in the background, in the shadows in the corner...a silhouette. Brief. Barely there. A fraction of a second. A few frames, maybe. And it knocked all of Jack’s breath from him.

“Jack? Are you okay?”

Sam had bounced onto the desk, into Jack’s line of sight, and the little eyeball was eyeing him with a look of innocent concern. Jack took a breath. Then another. He forced a smile.

“Y-Yeah. Yeah, o’ course. Fine.”

“You’re scared.”

“...a little,” Jack admitted sheepishly. Sam could always read him, better than anyone. Having a mental link probably had something to do with it. “Sorry bud. I didn’t mean ta scare you.”

“Why are you scared?”

Jack had no answer for him, not really. He couldn’t think of a way to say it. So instead he thought it. He pictured Anti, pictured the videos he’d made with him. And he let his fear seep through...just a little. Enough for Sam to get the idea. And Sam...his pupil widened a little and he squeaked.

“He’s real too?”

“I dunno,” Jack shrugged, sinking further in his seat. He leaned forward, propping his elbow on the desk and burying his face in his hands, reverting to thinking from here on out. ‘I dunno. It sounds stupid, sounds impossible. But...I dunno how else he’s showing up in videos, unless Robin’s lying. And I don’t think he would. Not this far.’

Sam made a worried little noise and nudged Jack’s arm, nuzzling up against his hoodie sleeve. Trying to help. And it did, a little...because Jack managed to smile.

“C’mon, c’mon...” Jack was muttering at his phone and pacing, as though urging it on would somehow will the person on the other end to pick up the phone any faster. It was taking far too long. It was only as he finally heard someone on the line that it occurred to him what time it was in California.

“...h’lo?”

Jack winced, hearing the sleepiness in Mark’s voice, knowing he must have woken him up.

“Mark. Hi. God, sorry, I totally forgot what time it was over there...”

“Yeah, it’s...” There was a rustle of fabric, a muffled grumble. “...three in the fuckin’ morning.”

“Sorry. Shite. I didn’t think, I just called...I can...I can call back later...”

“Woah, wait, no, ‘s cool,” Mark mumbled. There was more movement on the other end, a light clicking on, a door opening and closing. A yawn. “Wassup?”

“...”

And now that he was actually talking to Mark, Jack began to realize how stupid he would sound the minute he opened his mouth.

“...Seán?”

“It’s...nothin’. Nevermind. I shouldn’t’ve called.” The words spilled out of him faster than he could think them, a hand dragging through his already-unkempt hair. Sam made a little noise of question from where he was sitting on the arm of the couch.

“Dude you sound like you saw a ghost.” Jack could hear the worried frown in his words. “Hold up, once sec...”

The call ended abruptly, but as soon as it had gone Jack’s phone was ringing again, this time for a Skype call. Jack sighed and answered it. His screen lit up with the rather sleepy-looking face of Mark, his hair a chaotic mess of bedhead and his mouth pulled down in a worried frown. Jack could only imagine how he looked himself. He’d been running his hands through his hair nonstop since he’d woken up, he’d had four cups of coffee, and he’d been jumping at shadows all morning. Mark blinked.

“Holy shit. You look like hell.”

Jack rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, thanks, I kinda figured that,” he grumbled, looking away for a moment.

“Are you okay? You seem...stressed. I’ve seen it in your videos too...”

Jack let a small, hysterical laugh bubble past his lips.

"I'm fine! Toootally great!” He said sarcastically. “I'm being held together by coffee and redbull and cookies and prayers! What could possibly be wrong?!"

“Jesus.” Mark stared at him like he was nuts. “The hell happened to you?”

And Jack just let out a slow breath, deflating.

“...just...a lot. Recently.”

“Is it Sam still?”

Jack didn’t even feel annoyed this time when Mark mentioned it, just sighing resignedly.

“...sort of. I mean that’s part of it, sure, but...” He trailed off, chewing his lip. Wondering if this was even a good idea in the first place.

“But what?” Mark asked. Jack looked at his screen again to see Mark sitting on a couch now, a soft light illuminating his tired features. Would Mark think he was fretting over nothing? Mark had his own dark persona on the internet, Darkiplier, and Jack was certain he was aware of Antisepticeye. But thinking that Anti was a real, living thing...or whatever Anti’s version of “living” would be...

“Jack?” Mark’s brow furrowed in concern.

“...I...eh...” Jack stared at his screen for another long moment. Then he sighed. “...I’m bein’ paranoid. That’s all.”

“Paranoid about what...?”

“Anti.”

A pause.

“...you mean, like, Evil-You? That Anti?”

“Yeah. That Anti. He...” Another pause, another sigh, a huff of frustration. Jack, running his hands through his hair for the umpteenth time. “...he’s shown up in a few o’ my videos, an’ I didn’t put ‘im there. I didn’t record stuff for it. I didn’t tell Robin to do it, an’ Robin claims he thought I was editing it like that. And I keep...I keep thinking he’s right behind me, right over my shoulder. And I started thinkin’ about what you were saying about “belief” before and I started to think it might be possible and I wanted to call you and ask and – you...probably think I’m absolutely off my rocker.” Jack flopped back onto the couch, his head thunking back against the wall behind it. He closed his eyes, expression strained. God, he sounded insane. Sam slipped off the armrest to snuggle up in Jack’s lap, out of sight of the camera. Trying to make him feel better.

“...would you call me crazy if I said I believed you?”

And just like that, Jack’s eyes were glued to the screen again, where he could see Mark avoiding looking at the camera, rubbing a hand over his mouth. Looking concerned.

“You’re joking.”

“Not...not this time, no.”

There was a seriousness to his tone that Jack wasn’t used to, that made him think maybe Mark really did mean what he was saying.

“Why?”

“Why do I believe you?” Mark asked, finally looking up to the camera. “Because I think–”

There was an odd, glitched distortion on the screen, the lighting around Mark changing and shifting for a brief, almost unnoticeable moment....and judging by the slight widening of Mark’s eyes and the way Jack gasped softly, they both knew that the other had just seen the same thing.

“...I think...I can’t talk about it. Not now. Not...” Mark glanced over his shoulder, his eyes landing on something off-screen, something near the ground. “You alright? It’s okay, I promise. I’m right here.” The camera’s angle changed, going lopsided as Mark leaned over to reach toward whatever was on the floor. Jack assumed it was probably his dog, Chica. Poor pup. He smiled softly in sympathy. Then Mark was back in the frame, and he looked a little strained.

“Look. I can’t...talk about it over the phone. Obviously he doesn’t want you knowing. But I’ll be in Europe for a tour soon. A few weeks from now. Just...hold out ‘till then, and we can talk then. I’ll stop by, or we can meet up–”

“Wait, who?” Jack interrupted, frowning. A minute fear seemed to build in his chest, a tension there that hadn’t been there before, and he found himself glancing over his shoulder despite the fact that it was broad daylight and he was sitting against a wall. Sam made a quiet noise of distress and cuddled closer to him, looking up at him. Jack’s free, shaking hand fell to his lap to pet the little eyeball. “Who doesn’t want me to know what?”

“Later,” Mark insisted. “Not now. It’s not safe.”

“Why?!”

“Later!”

And Mark hung up. Jack tried, twice, to call him again - but both times Mark ignored him. He gritted his teeth and held Sam a little closer, suddenly scared to be alone.

[A/N] I swear, when I began this story, this was not the direction I was planning on taking it. It was going to be a cute little fluff-friendship piece with Sam thrown into the mix, then...the story took on a mind of its own. So even I don’t know where it’d headed...but I promise there will be cutes ahead as well. That, at the very least, is still a part of the plan. <3

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Book Review: The Sword of Summer (Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard #1) by Rick Riordan

General  Thoughts:

Seriously, Why did I never pick up a Rick Riordan book ever before?  I am literally kicking myself for that. I need to get to all his books.. like right now…..and there are so many ….I picked this up, because i did not really recover from the Thor: Ragnarok movie i watched a few weeks ago… and OMG i absolutely loved this book.. Since there are a lot of people talking about the Percy Jackson references  made in this book, and i only got to know about it halfway through … i really was having second thoughts to stop and reading the previous series. Although it’s not absolutely necessary it did kind of left me intrigued and wanting to read the previous series.

Honestly, I have a lot to say.. *coughs* get comfortable , this is going to take awhile. Also… Spoiler Alert…

Plot Summary:

Magnus Chase has always been a troubled kid. Since his mother’s mysterious death, he’s lived alone on the streets of Boston, surviving by his wits, keeping one step ahead of the police and the truant officers. One day, he’s tracked down by a man he’s never met—a man his mother claimed was dangerous. The man tells him an impossible secret: Magnus is the son of a Norse god. The Viking myths are true. The gods of Asgard are preparing for war. Trolls, giants and worse monsters are stirring for doomsday. To prevent Ragnarok, Magnus must search the Nine Worlds for a weapon that has been lost for thousands of years. When an attack by fire giants forces him to choose between his own safety and the lives of hundreds of innocents, Magnus makes a fatal decision. Sometimes, the only way to start a new life is to die

Things I liked:

The World”s”

Okay I just loved the world building of this book, and even though it’s just the beginning of a series it has so much action and adventure throughout  the book, that I couldn’t put it down.  Asgard and Alfheim were my absolute favourites. Asgard because it has Valhalla and Alfheim for the fact that they name everything they own, like the cup they drink in, or the chair they sit on. I think that was pretty awesome. I loved all the Gods and their powers..and i liked how i got to experience the dwarf as well as the giant’s world. I liked the part where Magnus was constantly reminding himself that Freya is his Aunt and he shouldn’t constantly be thinking how beautiful she is.. which was funny.

Norse Mythology

Even though, I barely knew about Norse Mythology this book was an easy read. Although, it did feel like a task to remember who does what because there are so many characters and after a point i was really grateful for having the glossary section in the book.  I also liked how Thor is not like what they show in the Marvel movies and Rick Riordan has given his own touch to everything. Some of Thor’s interaction with Magnus actually made me laugh out loud in public places… like how he said he lost his hammer and he tried searching for it on the Find Your Hammer app lol.. or the fact that he farts a lot .. lol.

Humour and Sarcasm

Magnus Chase is so funny and sarcastic which made him so lovable. Also the chapter titles where so quirky and hilarious. OMG.. this book is action packed and funny at the same time.. I have never liked a book so much ..i want to re read it right after i finish reading it.

Characters

The protagonist was obviously well developed. However, The sidekicks were equally amazing. I loved Sam, Hearthstone and Blitz. The four of them together was a delight and i loved their interactions. Hearthstone is a character that’s deaf and only uses sign language which was pretty cool, and i love how magnus interprets all his sign language words.  His backstory was rather heartbreaking, and i loved loved the little speech about the empty cups that Magnus Chase gave him. * Awww*

Blitz is a character that loves fashion designing and wants to open up his own store. I enjoyed the Dwarf contests and how eh avenges his father’s death. Sam, the Valkyrie who is the Daughter of Loki and is trying to constantly prove her loyalty to Valhalla was such an important side character. I wanted to know so much more about her..

Infact i loved the hallmates in Valhalla too. I really want to see more of them.

Jack the sword with all his hilarious comments and all the scenes with the Giants made him so adorable.

Loki

Even though he is the Villain i like how he is so funny and poised and good with words. At times, I almost felt like maybe what he says does make sense, why take the sword anywhere near the wolf when the sword is destined to cut him loose.  And then you’re like, No.. that advice can’t be coming from Loki.. I am sure he is on to something.  I know he is the villain, but he is good at it.

 Epilogue… 

such a cliffhanger..* I can’t wait to read the next book*

Things I didn’t like:

Even though I loved Sam as a character and i really want to read more about her in the other books of the series. I just couldn’t really picture her interacting with Norse gods and then being a Muslim too. I mean, there is nothing wrong with that.. i just felt the whole character description of her being a muslim was not really necessary in a Norse Myth story .. if that makes sense. Like.. it felt like it was only mentioned to highlight some serious issues which in that case.. on point Mr. Rick Riordan.

I would recommend it to someone that loves Norse Mythology and action – packed adventure stories. 

Notable Quotes:

“Such is human memory… you forget the truth and believe what makes you feel better.”

“The thing about talking swords…it’s hard to tell when they’re kidding. They have no facial expressions. Or faces.”

“Somebody once told me that a hero’s bravery has to be unplanned – a genuine response to a crisis. It has to come from the heart, without any thought of reward.”

“even if we can’t change the big picture, our choices can alter the details. That’s how we rebel against destiny,”

“I TOLD MY NEW FRIENDS I was allergic to dismemberment. They just laughed and herded me toward the combat arena. This is why I don’t like making new friends.”

“Blades before babes, you know what I’m saying?”

I obviously hate myself for being so ignorant about Norse Myths and decided to know more about it. You could check out some brief information about the Norse Family Tree, since it was so hard to keep up with who is known for what in the story… and also about Ragnarok, which is mentioned and dreaded so much.

Have you read the Magnus Chase Series? What do you love about it? Let me know if you loved something I missed out on.

[lupienne]

Sometimes You Just Need A...

A little drabble for ya’ll! Ok, maybe longer than a drabble. 3,829 words. Set after Issue #174. Fluffy/maybe slightly angsty drek that is highly unlikely but I like it anyhoo. (Maybe that’s why I like it. LOL) Platonic Regan. :)

Story under the pic/cut.

Sometimes You Just Need A... by Lupienne

"Is this a good idea?"

Rick looked back at Annie as he tightened the strap on Silver's saddle. He'd loaded her saddlebags with supplies, and informed Heath where he was heading.

"I said I would." He patted the mare's nose. "And it's been three weeks."

"But alone?"

"I'll be fine. If I'm not back by morning, then you can worry."

"Sure thing, Mr Grimes." She stood by, ready to open the gate.

He struggled to pull himself atop the horse. She stood patiently as he adjusted himself in the saddle. He'd gained a new appreciation for the gentle old mare. She was slow and worn, just like him.

He urged her into a light trot, leaving Alexandria behind at a pleasant pace.

And what a pleasant day! The fringe of autumn, with just the slightest nip in the air. His chest tightened and he swallowed thickly. He tried not to think about it – how this was just the sort of day Andrea would have loved to go riding. He could imagine her beside him, her hat pulled low and her poncho fluttering in the wind.

Don't. She's gone.

He bowed his head. Lately, there seemed to be a bubble trapped in his trachea. Right between his voice box and his ribcage. Lately, there had been lots of pressure behind his eyes.

If he kept it down long enough, maybe it would just ebb away.

A few tears leaked and he wiped them, straightening up in the saddle. He nudged Silver back onto course. Dwight had given him rough directions: head east, look for this tree, look for that house. Dwight had also given him a thinly-disguised look of disgust, which Rick had chosen to ignore... for now.

He slowed Silver to a walk when he reached the neighborhood where Negan was staying. He didn't know if the ex-Savior was still here. If he wasn't – call it a wasted trip.

Maybe not a total waste. The ride had been relaxing, a nice get-away from the pitying gazes of his fellow citizens. Andrea would have approved. You need a little 'me' time, sometimes, she would say.

That fucking bubble reappeared. He swallowed hard, blinking away a stray tear. He had to gasp, raggedly, through his mouth. Sometimes the bubble hurt terribly. But no doctor could alleviate this pain.

He shook his head. He had to keep his eyes peeled. His hand near his gun. Undead could be lurking, and he had no clue how jumpy Negan would be. He knew the big fucker had a rifle.

As he approached the last house on the row, he smelled smoke. This house was set apart from the others and he paced around the side.

A small fire was stoked in a circle of stones, and a pot of water was heating above it. There was his ex-prisoner, kneeling down by a patch of greenery. He thought at first that Negan was planting a garden, but all he saw were a few ratty daisies and a half-dead sunflower.

He opened his mouth to call, but Negan must have heard him. He quickly turned on his heels, a trowel held out before him.

"You'd better back off, you dead fuck, or -" Negan jumped to his feet. His eyes squinted as his lips pushed upwards into a huge, stupid grin. "Well, Jesus Shittin' Christ! It's Rick Motherfuckin' Grimes!"

Rick slid from the horse with an embarrassing lack of grace. His bad knee buckled for a second before he forced it steady.

"What are you doing here? Change your mind about locking me up? Come out here to kill off your loose ends?"

Rick thought he detected a hint of hope in Negan's voice. He shook his head, both at the notion, and at the fact the big bastard was practically wiggling like a puppy at the sight of him. Maybe Annie was right about this being a bad idea.

"No. I'm doing what I said I would. Bringing you supplies," he said gruffly, gesturing towards the saddlebags. "Consider it your monthly tribute..."

"Cute." Negan scratched at his beard. It wasn't prison-level stages yet, but it was getting there. "And real fuckin' appreciated. Uh...how'd you find me?"

"Dwight told me where you headed. Took a chance you'd still be here."

"For now I am." Negan's eyes narrowed. "You still keeping that little cockroach around?"

Rick answered that glare with his own – the Motherfucking Rick Grimes death stare.

"Fine, fine. Do what you want. Rick knows best." Negan huffed a breath. "You wanna tie her up over here?"

"She won't go far." Silver wasn't very adventurous. "Just help me carry this stuff."

Together, they unbuckled the bags and headed towards the rundown house Negan was apparently calling home.

"I brought you a razor too." Rick said. He'd felt a little foolish when he'd thrown the shaving implements in the bag. He considered it an unspoken thanks for Negan's positive actions in the past few months. Unspoken – because it still burned his throat to give Negan any sort of compliment.

"That is fucking awesome of you." Negan nudged the door open with his foot. "Even though I'm rocking the shit out of this hobo look."

Rick frowned as they entered. Speaking of hobo...

Negan appeared to have made his home in the large foyer, and it was a mess. His sleeping pallet was a disheveled heap of blankets, his leather coat folded up as a pillow. There was stacks of shit everywhere.

A stack of dirty pots and pans.

Canned food strewn along one wall. Most empty, and some not, one tipped over and spilling creamed corn on the floor.

Dead flies all over the windowsill. An array of half-melted candles (with dead flies embedded in the cooled wax.)

A messy stack of firewood and twigs.

Wood dust and dirt and dead leaves all over the floor, while a broom sat propped against the wall in mockery.

In the corner near the pallet, was a pile of tissues that Rick was sure hadn't been used to blow Negan's nose.

The smell wasn't exactly great either.

Negan shuffled his feet, knocking even more dirt onto the floor. "Sorry. Uh...it's a bit fucking disgusting. My wives used to be the housekeepers. Especially Sherry...she'd kill me if she saw this place."

Rick cringed at the name.

"But she was a psycho bitch, so... yeah." Negan went silent, setting down the saddlebag and crouching to open it.

Rick tried not to think about that, nor about how untidy his own house had become over the past few weeks. He wasn't quite at this level of not giving a shit. He looked for the one thing Negan wouldn't just toss around – the mangled remains of Lucille. He didn't see her – it – anywhere.

"Aww, Rick, you're fucking spoiling me." Negan extracted cans of food, a few bags of dried beans and rice, bullets, matches and a bag full of travel-sized toiletries. He should have packed a bottle of bleach for this pig-sty.

The room wasn't the only unkempt thing. As Negan set the supplies into yet another messy pile, strands of his black hair fell onto his forehead, another sticking upwardly awry. His t-shirt wasn't the impeccable white Rick was used to seeing. His former nemesis was practically shabby. Negan rose from his crouched position with a little groan.

"Think I said it before, but fuck. Crouching. Murder on the knees." An evil little smirk played the large man's lips. "Guess you know all about that."

"My knee would have been fine....if I'd let you bleed out on the ground."

"Maybe you should have. Doesn't seem like it was a great trade-off."

Rick narrowed his eyes. The smirk eased off Negan's mouth, and his dark eyes were unreadable. Rick was noticing things – how the dingy t-shirt hung looser off Negan's shoulders, how his collarbones seemed more prominent, and above the beard there was a subtle hollowness to his cheeks. His release from captivity didn't seem to be agreeing with him.

"Are you doing all right out here? Are you eating enough?" Now that no one is handing you shit on a silver platter?

"Oh, I'm doing fuckin' fantabulous!" The reply was so bright Rick was sure it was utterly sarcastic, but when Negan paired it with that cheerful grin, it was hard to tell.

"Uh-huh."

"You brought me more pork n' beans...I'm almost sporting the world's biggest woody right about now." The nearly-rabid look Negan shot the canned food said it all. The bastard was not doing well.

It couldn't be helped, though. Jailing him again was unacceptable. All Rick could do was supply the bare minimum and leave Negan to his own devices. He didn't even need to do that, but he felt obliged. He'd promised.

Here I am, willingly forking over shit to this guy now.

But the tables had turned. Negan wasn't taking from him as a greedy tyrant – Negan was a fucking beggar accepting meager charity.

Rick wouldn't lord it over him, though. He could appreciate Negan's humbleness. At least the man had admitted he was wrong – not that it changed the past...but it was something. And as obnoxious as Negan could be – Rick found his company to be... refreshing. Negan didn't view him in the same way others did. He knew the dark part of Rick, but he didn't judge it. He was too much a devil to judge the sins of others. He just simply saw Rick... for Rick.

It was nice, for a while, until he rode back through the gates of town – to be able to drop his pretenses.

He sighed. Maybe he'd break for lunch on the way back. Prolong his return just a bit. He began to hobble towards the door.

"What happened to your badass cane?" Negan asked, following with the empty saddlebag.

His new cane was plain wood and tailored for someone shorter than him. A woman, maybe.

"Lost it when the Walker herd broke in. Carl sent me a note, he's making some kind of quote-unquote badass one for me at the Hilltop. Should be done soon."

"He called it badass too?" Negan was wiggling all puppy-like again. "How's he doing?"

"Fine," Rick said shortly. That deflated Negan's stupid enthusiasm. The large man was silent again as they went outside.

"I'll be back in a few weeks with your shit." He paused, giving the flower garden a critical look. It was definitely a memorial of some sort. The ramshackle cross seemed to say 'Duh, Captain Obvious.'

"Thanks. I really do appreciate it. Hell, the pork n' beans and the razor alone deserve an epic, slobbery knob-job."

Rick never knew what to say to those weird come-ons, and he was never entirely sure if Negan was joking either. He ignored it as usual.

The memorial, if that's what it was, was a place Negan must linger. The grass in front of it was trampled flat and worn to the earth in spots.

"Um..." Negan rubbed the back of his neck. "That's uh... where I buried her."

"The bat?" Rick tried to keep the disdain from his voice. Negan and that stupid bat. Of course he would bury it.

"Well yeah...but it wasn't just for her." A soft cough escaped the large man, and he squinted his eyes. "For uh...for um...my real Lucille. Because I didn't get to bury her..."

The Captain Obvious brick knocked him right over the head. Lucille. Worst thing I ever did was leave my wife to rot. The rabid attachment to the baseball bat. The lunatic rages whenever 'she' was disrespected. She's the only bitch I ever truly loved.

He imagined how he might have been...back in his dark days...with Lori. The phone. The phantom voice. What he might have done if someone had tried to wrest that phone away from him.

No. I don't want to think about this!

Goddamn Negan! Why did he always manage to mindfuck him somehow?

Unwanted images flooded his head. Running up a hill, with Carl ahead of him. 'Don't look back. Don't look back.' Lori, gunned down behind them. Lori and Judith. Left behind.

Rotting.

She's a pile of dry bones rotting on a fucking floor...my wife. Because of me.

He wasn't sure what compelled the words to trip from his mouth. Negan was staring at the grave, his shoulders slumped, and something dead and lost clouding his eyes. Rick had seen that look in the mirror. He suddenly beheld the obnoxious smiles and the bright booming glimmer of Negan's voice in a new fashion. A cover-up, a shield. That's all they were.

"I never got to bury my wife, either, Negan."

The brown eyes snapped to his. Negan's eyebrows furrowed quizzically.

"Not..." Andrea. He couldn't say her name. The bubble swelled inside his chest and his eyes burned. "...My first wife. Lori. C-C-Carl's... Carl's mother. We were running from a madman. We couldn't stop...we had to leave her." He took a ragged breath.

Negan nodded, staring down at Lucille's crude memorial.

A painful silence stretched between them. The bubble swelled like a water balloon. And it was moving upwards, like a surge of vomit. Panic gripped him. He swallowed hard, trying to force it down. He had to get out of here. Blinking hard and blurry-eyed, he looked around for Silver.

"Rick..." Negan's voice was so soft he barely recognized it. He jerked his head back towards the man in surprise, even more startled to see wetness pooling under the weary brown eyes. Negan bit his lip. "Do you need a hug?"

Silence again. Rick's body froze, except his damnable knee. It buckled and he forced it straight.

"Do you need a hug?" Now Negan's voice had a noticeable waver. "Because I could really fucking use one."

Rick gripped his cane hard.

Negan's face fell into that stupid look - parted lips and wide eyes – that childish visage he took on whenever Rick chastised him for his idiotic ways. Rick opened his mouth to again reprimand him, to say – 'Of course not, of course I don't want a fucking hug!'

But something in his aching heart propelled him forward into the opening embrace - or maybe it was just his knee caving again. Negan scooped him up against his broad chest. Rick blanched for one second, before sinking as if into the warmest of pillows, with the thud-thud of a pounding heart singing a lullaby.

He tentatively wrapped his arms around the other – more to support his bad leg than anything – his hand sliding over hard muscle and a ladder of prominent ribs.

Maybe he was the foolish fly submitting to the spider's trap, but the moment Negan's hand dropped to his back and rubbed softly – just the lightest human...humane... touch – he didn't care.

He pressed his head against this warm breathing body, this body who understood. The tidal wave of grief spilled over the breakers of his eyes, and that swelled bubble exploded into sobs. He tried to stifle them with teeth sunk into his lip, but his body shook from the force of it.

"I know," Negan rasped. "It hurts. It hurts so fucking goddamn bad."

Damn the big fucker for instigating the flood of tears! And a flood it was. Levies broke. The sounds that came from him were horrible, poison – and he felt ashamed. Again, Rick tried to stifle this weakness, but then over his own sobs he heard grief in another voice, just as wounded, just as drowned in long-simmering pain. Negan was crying too.

The shame melted away, and he gave into the racking sobs, the tears that burnt like fire.

Negan had said they would never share a meal, nor their deepest darkest secrets...but this was closer. This was a true passing of knowledge.

His knee began to quake under the weight of standing thus. He forced it straight, ignoring the pain. His arms tightened. Just hold on. Just let go.

Finally, his sobs ebbed to a few hoarse gasps, and died into fine quivers echoing through his body. Negan gave one last choked hiccup, and a shaky sigh. Still, Rick was afraid to let go, to see where this left them.

Negan's arms began to loosen, and his voice rumbled through his chest to Rick's, sounding thick as honey. "You might want to let go now. I'm starting to get an erection."

Oh, for fuck's -

Rick let go, tottering so abruptly he nearly toppled into Lucille's cross. Negan pulled him upright and Rick steadied his cane under his palm.

They caught sight of the mess of each other's faces. Twins of red, swollen eyes and scarlet cheeks, beards wet with tears and snot.

Starting to get an erection -

Rick bent double – and began to laugh. Huge laughter that killed his ribs and cleansed the toxins from his chest. Negan joined in, and his laugh was the sort that added gasoline on the fire of hilarity. Infectious. Rick wound up on the ground when his knee gave, gasping for air under the sunflower. Now he was really sore, his leg aching and his eyes raw and his ribs throbbing...but... it felt good.

"Are you...fucking..." Negan was still chuckling as he caught his breath, "...ok...old man?"

"Shut up..." Rick grimaced, rubbing at his ribs. "You're older than me, Grandpa."

Negan reached a hand down, but Rick waved it away, climbing painfully to his feet. He accepted his cane as Negan shoved it into his hand.

"Shit, I never thought I'd see the fucking day. Rick Grimes...laughing."

"Oh, I laugh. I've just never found you amusing."

"And how was your first time with me?"

Rick decided to ignore that one. He cleared his throat, wiping his coat sleeve over his wet cheeks. Negan pulled up his dingy shirt, getting it dirtier still as he scrubbed at his own face.

Rick squinted at the sun. He still had plenty of daylight left. And Silver was happily grazing on the house's patchy lawn. He approached her, opening the smallest saddlebag, one they hadn't touched. "I brought a sandwich for my lunch. I don't think I'll finish it all. You hungry?"

He knew what Negan was really hungry for. No, not that. It was so obvious, even as the man's eyes lit up, grasping onto the delay of his lonely solitude.

"I am fucking famished. It was a lot of hard work planting those fuckin' flowers today. Those white ones there."

"They're called daisies."

"Yeah, those things."

"How about we eat by the fire?" Rick didn't really want to go back into Negan's pig-sty. The big man nodded, and headed into the dump, returning with two mesh chairs.

"Need a tissue?" A handful of white was extended to him.

Rick shuddered. "No fucking way."

Negan shrugged, blew his nose, and threw it into the fire. They sat, and Rick split the large sub down the middle.

While they ate, Rick offered a grudging tidbit or two. How Alexandria was starting to come back together. How Carl was doing at the Hilltop, helping to rebuild and planning his future as a master blacksmith. He didn't give much, but he knew Negan appreciated it all the same.

Negan told him how he'd eaten a dog and still felt bad about it, how he'd gotten the shits from ‘a motherfucking piece of shit can of Dinty motherfuckin' Moore‘ and how he'd found another baseball bat but hadn't kept it. Rick raised an eyebrow to that.

"It wasn't the same. Didn't feel right." Negan shrugged.

"I guess not."

It also didn't feel quite right...but Rick believed him. He sighed inwardly. Negan was getting his way, after all. The wily mind-fucking fucker. The trust was building between them.

He threw the parchment paper wrapping his sandwich into the fire, brushing crumbs off his hands. Negan did the same, letting out a satisfied belch.

"Thanks, Rick. Fuck, it's been a while since I've had something fresh like that. You know... I'm starting to miss prison. That fresh bread you brought me every now and then? Fucking awesome. Also, you cleaning my shit bucket."

"I don't miss your shit bucket." Rick gave a half-smile.

"Yeah, me neither. I have a shit hole now." Negan chuckled. "And I don't mean the house."

"Maybe I'll bring a maid next time." Rick rolled his eyes, pushing to his feet. "It's time I head off. You should be good for the next few weeks."

"You can't hang out a while longer? I promise, that's not a sexual proposition, although at this point, your bony ass is looking mighty tempting."

"No, now I think it's definitely my cue to leave. If I head back now, even if I hit a delay, I'll make it home before dark."

"You want me to come along? In case you run into trouble?"

"Now you're insulting me. This 'papaw cripple' still has some fight left in him." If Negan was thinking of his ass now, he didn't want to imagine the sordid thoughts the big bastard would have riding horseback with him. "Besides, you aren't to go near Alexandria, Negan... I mean it."

Negan bowed his head, muttering. "Yeah. I know." He snorted. "The rules keep me alive."

Whatever that meant. As long as he understood. Rick clambered atop Silver with a stifled grunt. It looked like an afternoon rain was gathering on the horizon. He almost wanted to stay, here in this commiserating bubble outside his empty, wifeless home. Here, where he had laughed until his ribs hurt, for the first time in a long time. Here, where he was understood.

He looked down at Negan's hopeful eyes. No, he'd better not. Negan would start to think he actually liked him, and that wouldn't do.

"You let me know if you need me to take care of your cockroach problem, huh?" There was that insufferable Negan-grin, and then the bastard gave Silver a smack on the rump. Rick yelped as she startled forward.

"Asshole. That just pushed your supplies back another week. Better make that food last!"

"Sure, sure. See ya, Prick." Negan gave an overly animated wave goodbye.

"See you, Negan." And Rick made his way back home, already pushing Negan's next supply drop ahead of schedule in his mind.

After all, there was no way those pork n' beans were going to last Negan a whole three weeks. He'd have to come back much sooner.

Maybe two weeks.

Maybe one at the most.