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selenblackwrites · 1 month ago

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12. Answers

Daryl had always been good at pretending. Pretending he didn’t notice the way Rick’s hand lingered on his shoulder a little too long. Pretending he didn’t feel the weight of Rick’s eyes on him when they were together, that slow, careful gaze that seemed to strip him bare.

He’d gotten good at brushing it off. It wasn’t real, couldn’t be real. Rick was just… Rick. Friendly, warm, loyal to a fault. He treated everyone in the group like family, and Daryl wasn’t about to mistake that kindness for something it wasn’t.

Except lately, it felt different. Too different.

Rick wasn’t just glancing his way anymore; he was watching him. When Daryl spoke, Rick listened like every word mattered, even when Daryl knew most of them were useless. When they were working side by side, Rick always found some excuse to touch him - an arm brushing his, a hand steadying him as they loaded supplies.

It was enough to make Daryl’s chest ache, enough to make him hope.

And hope was dangerous.

So, he’d done what he always did. He pushed it down, shoved it so deep that it couldn’t hurt him. He kept his distance, spoke less, made himself harder to approach. He wasn’t sure what else to do.

But Rick didn’t let up.

Tonight was proof of that.

The streets of Alexandria were quiet, the kind of stillness that only came after a long, exhausting day. Daryl had been sitting on the steps of one of the porches, nursing a half-empty bottle of beer, when Rick found him. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there with his hands in his pockets, watching.

Daryl looked up at him, his brow furrowing. “What?”

Rick smiled softly, that lopsided grin that made Daryl’s stomach twist in knots. “Nothin’. Just thought I’d keep you company.”

Daryl shrugged, taking another swig from the bottle. “Don’t need company.”

“Maybe I do,” Rick said, and his voice was so quiet, so careful, that it made Daryl freeze.

He felt Rick sit down beside him, the warmth of his body cutting through the cool night air. They didn’t speak for a while, and Daryl thought maybe that was it - that Rick just wanted to sit in silence.

But then Rick broke it.

“I’ve been thinkin’,” Rick said, his voice low. “’Bout us.”

Daryl stiffened, his fingers tightening around the neck of the bottle. “What d’ya mean, ‘us’?”

Rick turned to him, and Daryl could feel the weight of his gaze even before he met it. There was something raw in Rick’s eyes, something that made Daryl’s chest tighten.

“I mean… this,” Rick said, gesturing vaguely between them. “You and me. I want… more.”

The words hit Daryl like a punch to the gut. He stared at Rick, his mind racing. “More?” he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Rick nodded, his gaze steady. “Yeah. I want somethin’ real, Daryl. With you.”

Daryl’s heart was pounding so hard he thought it might burst out of his chest. He shook his head, his throat tightening. “Why?”

Rick frowned, tilting his head. “What d’ya mean, why?”

Daryl gestured to himself, his movements sharp, almost frantic. “Why me, Rick? What the hell do I got that you’d want? You could have anyone - hell, you had someone. What’s so damn special about me?”

Rick’s expression softened, his hand reaching out to rest on Daryl’s arm. The touch was warm, grounding, and it made Daryl want to pull away and lean in all at once.

“Daryl,” Rick said gently, “you don’t see yourself the way I do.”

Daryl laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “Yeah? And how’s that?”

Rick’s grip on his arm tightened, his voice firm. “You’re strong. Brave. You’d do anything for the people you care about, even when it costs you. You’re one of the best men I’ve ever known, Daryl.”

Daryl felt his throat close up, his chest aching with a pain he didn’t know how to name. “You don’t mean that,” he muttered, his voice shaking.

“I do,” Rick said, his voice unwavering. “You think you’re not enough, but you’re wrong. You’re more than enough. For me, for anyone.”

Daryl looked away, his vision blurring. “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

Rick shifted closer, his hand moving to cup the back of Daryl’s neck. “Yeah, I do. And I’m not lettin’ you push me away, not this time.”

Daryl closed his eyes, his hands trembling as he set the bottle down beside him. “I don’t know how to do this, Rick. I don’t know how to be… what you need.”

Rick’s hand tightened on his neck, pulling him in until their foreheads touched. “You don’t have to be anything but yourself, Daryl. That’s all I want. Just you.”

The words broke something in Daryl, something he’d been holding onto for so long that he didn’t know how to let it go. He felt tears slipping down his cheeks, and he hated himself for it, but Rick didn’t seem to care.

Rick just stayed there, close and steady, his thumb brushing lightly against the back of Daryl’s neck.

“You’re worth it,” Rick whispered. “You’re worth everything.”

Next ┈➤

#ficlet a day keeps the doctor away #daily writing #daily prompt #writing prompt #selenblack #selenblackwrites #rickyl #rick grimes #daryl dixon #twd #the walking dead #fanfiction #fanfic

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my-mt-heart · 2 years ago

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U know, i feel sometimes the writing is strange. When Daryl punched Negan, he felt guilty for Glenn's death and cried apologizing to Maggie. When he and Maggie went behind Rick's back in 9a, they've never been held responsible by no one not even themselves.

I guess having Daryl's looking for Rick's body for years was supposed to show the guilt he felt, same as Carol taking care of him in the meantime discreetly because she knew how he felt, but i actually think we were robbed of Daryl crying in Carol's arms showing his guilt. Even if it wasnt necessarily his fault, not saying this. But this should have led to a more moving conversation than the "i never found the body" in 9x7. We could have also had a moment with Carol saying "i know things were rocky sometimes betwen him and i but i miss him too u know". Carol never talked abt Rick. Hello??

As for Maggie, i initially thought this mess with Rick was the reason things were tensed with Michonne but it ended up being for totally different reason.

In general, they have Carol never talking abt her feelings, which yes is in character but at the same time its a bit too convenient for me: "good, since she's so reserved, we wont have to bring this topic anymore", like Lizzie and Mika.

I feel that what happens behind the scenes (like actors leaving for instance) affects way too much what ends up on screen: Michonne's departure (i dont judge her for going to find Rick, but how come no one ever asks where the hell she is?)

Like Maggie's departure and come back.. I mean it was easier when characters just died. But because they left open doors and windows for everyone now, because they want to Marvel themselves, it does look like a giant mess.

They also seem to rely too much on the "off screen" to resolve plots. Like Rosita/Gabriel breaking up, also, for example.

The only thing that was (at least since season 7) handled almost perfectly was Rick's departure, for me. Ok he didnt have a proper reconciliation with Maggie. But while he had a feud with Daryl , they later had a heart to heart, just in time before Rick's "death". Where is my heart to heart betwen Caryl? This should have happened in s11, before the end of the series, regardless of if the spin off was the two of them or just him.

I didnt hate Find me, but having it right after 10.16 (initially the finale of s10) where they were supposed to be reconciled made no sense to me, especially since nothing was openly resolved after, in Diverged AND since Diverged.

And they actually made it clear that there would be no heart to heart, now that i think abt it, when Carol said "i dont need an apology apology is just a truce". It was clear in that moment for me that it would be left like that, boom, deal with it people. So no on screen resolution of their feud either.

What do u think?

I agree it's extremely frustrating when the business side (and people's personal agendas) bleed into the creative side too much, and TWD is definitely one of those shows that made a mess of itself because of that. S9 and S10 weren't perfect. There were too many characters and the pacing got a little too clunky at times, but there were really strong character narratives that kept me engaged the whole way through, and I found myself rooting for Caryl more passionately following the three-season dry spell. S11 is where it all fell apart for me because it was like everything that S10 had been building toward suddenly meant nothing, the characters were behaving strangely, there was no payoff, there was very little emotional realism, and the ending was insulting. The spinoffs are even more concerning because they don't feel like the next chapter for the characters that we love, they just feel like one giant retcon. Like there's very little attention being paid to the loyal audience that made the spinoffs possible in the first place.

#caryl #caryl spinoff #carol peletier #melissa mcbride #darylneedscarol

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ripgray-moved · 10 months ago

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though peter is not good at lying, there are two things he's a total expert at covering up, those being his emotions and his family details. he probably has annie to thank for it; while she didn't abuse him physically often, the times she did were met with swift threats about what would happen if anybody was to find out. naturally, his teachers would ask where the marks came from when they were caught in plain view. telling them that he was a bit of an idiot was like a line in a play as far as peter was concerned..

i fell playing tag / i banged it on the table / the climbing frame rejected me.

peter chuckles as he rolls the dough flat before folding it over itself. "yeah, heh. guess my life wasn't so bad, huh?"

he most certainly doesn't appreciate the noise that unfolds in his head right as he lets that lie to air. it's as if every bad memory locked up in what he now calls the vault feels the need to play at once. the sound of his mother's terse tone followed by her shrill wailing echoing in his head like gunfire; all the awkward weekend dinners that resulted in nothing but fighting; the intense terror he'd lived in from the ages of eleven to fourteen, never knowing what was real until eventually he'd snapped—

i gave my freedom for you and you can't even give your dying grandmother her tea? / you're not allowed in my studio, peter, you know you're not. / the dog ran away. i'm sorry, sweetie. / don't talk about our neighbour like that! he's just a little awkward! if anything you should get along with him... / you let a CRAB attack your sister? i TOLD YOU to watch her! / i never wanted to be your mother.

the sound of the canned tomatoes sizzling in the pan brings him back to the present. somehow, despite being lost inside his head, he'd continued cooking as if unperturbed— because that's very well what he should have been if what he'd told daryl was true.

"psh— what a fuckin' dick. if anyone deserved this world, it was your sperm donor," peter comments wryly. he refuses to award men who hurt their children the title of 'father'; there are PLENTY of good dads in the world, just as there are plenty of TERRIBLE MOTHERS, and he doesn't think they should be lumped together. peter shoots a look at him over his shoulder— one that's a tad less irate. "i guess, at the very least, he set you up to leave him in the rear view. i mean, i don't see him here. i think i know you enough to know that if the dixons were still around, even if they were shitty for you, you'd probably've stayed with them. you're loyal to a fault." he hesitates, then offers him a real smile. a sheepish, rare smile. "...maybe i should say that i'm sorry your family isn't here with you anymore, but— well. that's not true, is it? you found 'em."

by now, he has roughly half a sheet ready to boil, but he's distracted by daryl's comment about cooking. he turns it over in his mind briefly— then snorts.

"i'm sorry, you think i just flew outta the cooch knowing how to make your ass tagliatelle because my mom and dad knew how to use a stove?" peter jokes. of course he knows what daryl was actually saying, but he's a little tired of tempting fate; of talking about sad shit and expecting things not to turn sour. "tell you what, big guy, come up here. we can have tag and ravioli. i'll show you how to shape and stuff it. then you'll be a cook, too!"

although daryl does not realize the true gravity of the losses peter has suffered, nor the fact that his family was long gone because of the cult before the dead even began to plague the earth, it's still never been a surprise that his traveling companion has kept information about his life close to his chest. it's just how most people are now: reluctant to bring up their grief lest they get lost in it.

but it's part of the reason why he appreciates learning more about peter, taking in every word and honoring it with his silence. he doesn't have to tell daryl these things. doesn't have to reveal anything about his past life if he doesn't want to. the fact that he is, and that he's trusting daryl even though he may be uncomfortable in a new and overwhelming place with so many strangers, is not lost on him.

and neither is the sudden cutoff, what seems like a name lingering on peter's lips for a long, tense moment until he pushes past it to continue telling his story. daryl understands that, too. sometimes specific people are harder to talk about than others. he hopes that his companion knows, at the very least, that he doesn't have to worry. that daryl is not one to unnecessarily pry into others' pain.

although the story seems to contain an underlying sorrow, daryl does note how fond peter seemed to have been about his dad when he was alive. it's a stark contrast to his own father: will dixon had no trouble withholding food from him and merle at the drop of a dime ( whenever he was even around to do so ).

while he can't exactly relate to peter's more tender paternal experiences, he does know what it's like to be an adult in your mind long before you're one in your body.

‘ i get it. s'good you had yer dad, even if it sounds like he wasn't around much. ’ daryl looks down at his hands for a long moment before his gaze returns to his companion, watching as he finds his groove kneading. he feels like he doesn't exactly have to tell peter that he understands— he finds that people who grew up too fast often recognize one another without having to say so. but something still compels him to talk.

he's already shared so much of himself today. what's a little bit more?

‘ my dad... he taught me how to hunt n' track for food soon as i could hold a gun. told me if i couldn't hunt somethin' down for dinner, i wasn't eatin' that night. s'how he taught me a lotta stuff— you can't do it, you don' eat. ’

if you can't take this engine apart and put it back together correctly, you don't get dinner. if you can't make a good fire without a lighter or matches by sundown, you don't eat until tomorrow. if you don't shoot this beer can in three tries from a seventy-five yard distance, you're going to be hungry. if you can't—

‘ ain't like he could cook anyway, ’ daryl adds after a moment with a little quirk of his mouth, willing himself to lighten the mood after he's just dampened it with a detail from his past. this is part of the reason why it's hard for him to share too much with people: his old life is full of things like this. who in their right mind wants to hear him talk about how shitty he had it as a kid? ‘ probably where i get it from, huh? ’

#⋆ ⋮ 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲. ❜ ( aintashes. )#⋆ ⋮ 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘄𝗲 𝗱𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝘆. ❜ ( in character. )#aintashes #abuse tw #[ NOBODY HAS EVER PUKED HARDER THAN I DID AT THIS REPLY!!!!! ]

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aceaugust · 3 years ago

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(#2) ♠️When the college's bad boy breaks into your apartment 🌬

Theme: Bad boy, gang-y, quite cold and inconsiderate JK. Straight forward, loyal, hardworking, Reader. (Dk how to describe people lol)

Genre: Gangs, rumours, truth and lies, bullies, mention of abuse, murder, betrayal and insults. ALSO, kinda funny (depends tho lol), loyality, faith and love, backstabbing, gossips. Photoshopping, mention of nudity, shaming. Mention of a notorious serial killer.

Disclaimer: This fanfiction doesn't have any intended connections to the real characters, nor portray their real personalities, nor have anything that contributes to their reality. It's purely for entertaining purposes. Please, don't take anything at heart. It's mere imagination.

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So, as you may wonder, I'm currently in an empty lecture hall, revising for my OOP exam, which's in the next 30 minutes. My heart is pounding like crazy in fear 'cause this subject is damned and I'm done with this major for real. Going over the concepts, tricks, informal notes I made for myself and so on. Trying to keep my mind focused on the exam and ignore the noises out there.

Noises of crying, almost screaming and words of blame. Don't know if I'm wrong, but the speaking voice sounds more like Ruby's, just less high-pitched which's now normal to hear.

"You cheated on me with Tiara?! Tiara, Taylor?! She's my best friend!"

Let me guess, Tiara is that blonde the head of the dancers for the sports' teams? Wow, yeah, I'd expect such a betrayal from someone of Tiara's manners. Sorry, non-existent manners.

Like there was that one time, a group of classmates pulled me into one of the dancers show after the basketball team had won, and there was Tiara. Once her name was pronounced into the mic, she sarted putting on her dance moves which contained one and only aim; sexual seduction, which I shall say, disgusted the heck out of me. From showing too much cleavage to bending over for a butt-show to other moves I prefer not to mention or even remember.

"Cheated?! You're being dramatic, Ruby. It was just a meaningless hookup."

Wow, shameless. I only thought of it like in high school movies, she caught him kissing Tiara in one of the hallways, but oh hell, he slept with Tiara.

"And every cheat you say the same shit! I'm so fucking done with you, Taylor. You ruined my fucking feelings! Turned me into a senseless monster like you and the bitch I called my best friend!"

Their voices are near like they're right behind the door.

A yelp startles me which alerts me to stand up, hurry towards the door. Low whimpers are coming out of Ruby as I expect that he grabbed her physically.

"Oh yeah?! You wanna play this game, lil Ruby? Wanna make me tell everyone where's your dear daddy, Mr. Cullens?! And what's he charged of?! HUH?!"

Wow, is he shaming her?!

A'ight, screw that, I'm intruding.

"Drugs?" I burst out after opening the door wide, noticing his hand go off her hair and Ruby starts to wipe her melt mascara from her tears.

"What?!" Taylor spits back in an attempt to scare me.

"Is her dad charged for drugs?" Ruby's eyes widen in shock as she stares at Taylor vulnerably, in a plead not to 'expose' her.

I've heard about her dad's charges of accusation because Daryl is a journalist and loves spicey cases. He told me that her dad has been sentenced to 10 years in prison and his lawyers have been in a private interview saying that he's innocent and someone must have put the drugs in his office and called the police upon him.

"It's none of your fucking business!" Taylor hisses stepping forward to me.

"It's, when you're blackmailing her into staying with you in order not to expose her. Her dad is in prison? Not her freaking fault. The turn goes to whose dad failed to bring him up appropriately." I hiss back, moving aside to Ruby.

"Ruby is done with you. Go cheapen yourself even more by sleeping with random girls. Screw yourself, crap!" I take Ruby's hand and enter the lecture hall, making sure to slam the door to his face.

I sit on one of the benches, studying her face. After most of the makeup has been ruined by her tears, I shall say she's one decent face. I mean, we're all beautiful of course, but we ruin our beauty with heavy makeup and not bracing our natural looks.

"You shouldn't have stepped in like that. He isn't JungKook who would stay silent to your harshness. If all rumours are on JungKook's notoriety, then be sure Taylor is much worse." She says quietly, with her voice naturally coming out.

My heart beats even faster at JungKook's mention. For the first time, someone said something almost positive about JungKook.

"I'd ask about JungKook, but now isn't the time." I reply, still staring at her. She chuckles sadly, shaking her head.

"I know nothing about him, but I know Taylor so fucking well. He'll screw you in the dark and get you to shut up about it. What makes JungKook slightly better is that he's known as a bad boy, people would simply avoid him and that's it. But, Taylor lures into your life as the sweet, rich, humble boy who'd treat you right. For the end to be cheat, abuse and p-pain." Her voice cracks in the end as I hop off the bench, approaching her.

"Hey, break free. He'd expose your dad's case? So, be it. I've heard that he's innocent and if you're sure about it, then you, too, defend your dad. People judged you? A'ight, be the lone standing wolf. You don't need others to strengthen you, Ruby. No one should say a word into a story that ain't theirs." I lay a hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze of comfort.

"I was being a bitch to you, why are you nice to me?" I shrug my shoulders, smiling.

"Maybe I found an excuse for your actions now. But, not the bullying." She nods, smiling alittle.

"Go, there's a toilet at the back. Freshen up, wash your face and come back revise with me. There are 5 minutes left 'till exam." She stands up, walking to the back, as I go back to my seat, settling myself to exam.

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"Wait, so I should have used an array?" Ruby nods confidentially, as she sips on her black coffee. I face palm myself, realizing the fact that I just lost 3 points of my exam's grade. Can I cry, y'all?

"It's okay, though. I've made this mistake countless of times before. It's a trick." I nod sadly, mentally calculating the grade I might get for this mistake, making sure I plan the loss of other points to other questions I might have mistakened, too.

"Sometimes, I question myself if this is really my thing." I say, quite disappointed in myself. Daryl has fought alot to get me into this school and now, has lots to pay for it besides his own responsibilities. I can't just get a low GPA and disappoint him like this.

"Grades don't define you. I suppose you're one strong girl, don't believe some letters would determine your own capabilities." Ruby replies, smiling. I nod still disheartened, "Yeah, but companies and fields of work define us with grades, Ruby."

She shrugs as she finishes her coffee, tossing it into the bin. "Well, yeah, but not like you're going to fail. Don't be so hard on yourself." She's probably right, 3 points won't affect my GPA much. It might at 15, but hopefully I'd not make so many mistakes.

"Have plans tonight? Taehyung is throwing another party and I'm dying to cheer up alittle." I give her a look of hesitance. I mean I insulted Taehyung, JungKook and a random dude back there. Don't know if I'm welcomed and would be totally understandable if not. Plus, I already hate parties so, no.

"I'm meeting my brother tonight to have some siblings-time." She nods, patting my shoulder. Well, I could invite her to see Daryl, perhabs he could tell her something that would help in her dad's case.

"Well, if you want to come along and see Daryl. He has lots of details regarding your dad's case. Maybe y'all can help him with something." She looks down sadly, fiddling with her feet.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean-"

"No, it's fine. How would your brother know about my dad's case?"

"Daryl is a crime journalist and loves interesting cases. He heard about your dad's and was there during the investiagtion. He told me that your dad might be innocent, but there's no physical evidence showing that."

She doesn't respond, probably processing what I'm saying.

"You aren't trying to expose me to the school by this, are you?" She says, sadly and doubtfully.

My eyes widen as I shake my head no. "No, of course not, Ruby!" She nods, smiling alittle.

She must have been disappointed so many times.

"I'll text, my elder sister, Annie, she's a medical student. She used to spend so much time in dad's office, knows all the secret drawers and stuff. She has more insight about the whole thing." I nod excitedly. Maybe she'd get rid off that shame, clear her dad's name and smack whoever tries to judge her.

"Okay, we'll meet at 7, if that's fine with her."

"Yeah, today's is her break-off, so she's free all day."

"Cool and settled. Let's head to Ms. Grahams lecture, I don't want another lash of her tongue's." We chuckle and rush over the teaching hall.

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"A'ight, fucking shit, Holmes!"

I cringe alittle at Daryl's sudden burst of profanity.

"Mother-! You ruined the whole thing! Man, I've finally caught a glimpse of his face and reported it to the police. Then, you fuck around and leak the photo to your girlfriend?!"

Wow, there's so little percentage that Daryl would NOT blow up.

"Man, for real, cut that shit and delete it from her phone. It's a professional thing! 'Cause I know much better than not to expect you have a bitch of a girlfriend!" Daryl's voice raises even more as his face turns redder.

"I DON'T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOUR RELATIONSHIP, HOLMES! YOUR FAULT, YOUR RESBONSIBILITY! DEAL!"

He hangs up the call, sliding his phone into his pocket.

"Well, ahem, hey bro!" I approach him, wrapping my arms around his torso into a hug. He hugs back tightly, lifting me up alittle.

"I missed you so much. God, I love you, little cotton ball." He whispers into my ear, placing a kiss on my cheek. I jokingly sulk as he chuckles. "I'm not little anymore. I'm a grown up college gurrrl." I roll the 'r' as he chuckles louder.

"Aww, you'll always be my little cotton ball. No matter how 'grown up' you get." He says with his ocean blue eyes shining alittle.

Daryl is like my one and only backbone in life. He has always got my back, defends me, gives me pieces of advice, comforts me. He's the one who taught me to stand up strong and never accept oppression whether for me or anybody else. He practically raised me as our parents were always busy for business trips and stuff. He gives me the love, affection and attention he rarely recieved from them. For me, he's really my everything and I could never risk losing him for anything.

"Yo, where you at?" He snaps his fingers to catch my scattered attention. I smile, placing a kiss on his forehead.

"Was just thinking about how much I do really apperciate you, bro." He acts tough, but when you get to be close to him, he's a little cottonball as well.

"So, we're having a guest tonight. Annie Cullens, the elder daughter of Uriah Cullens. Her sister is a friend of mine and I happened to find out that she's being shamed for her dad's case." I say, fiddling my feet on the ground, quite nervous of his reaction. He doesn't like me being involved in any of the cases he works on, thinking that some criminals would put him on rival mode and hunt us down.

Aaaand that's why I haven't told him about my encounter with JungKook yet. I've told him I attended a party, but cut out the argument's part.

"Yeah?" He says quietly which comforts me alittle. "And Annie is coming tonight, you could get some details from her or her from you...like you guys sort yourselves out. Maybe the man is innocent." As I finish my sentence, Daryl's grin is put on full display. I smile back, not understanding his grin, but happy to see it.

"My cottonball has cut a good long path for me to get an interview with the Cullens." He squishes my cheeks together, kissing them.

Well, it seems that I accidentally helped my brother.

"I'm glad, then." He engulfs me in another hug, swaying us left and right.

"Ahem, pardon moi?" Our little sentimental moment was cut by a shy voice. We turn around to see a brunette with her hair long to her waist, caramel brown eyes, long lashes and petite short figure.

"I'm Annie Cullens, I suppose you're Y/N and you're Daryl?" She extends her hand between us shyly. Daryl rushes to take her hand first, shaking it lightly.

Reading Daryl's expression, I think he's falling in love. Not gonna lie, I find her cute.

"So, y'all, I get easily bored from case studies and stuff like these. I guess I could leave you both, discuss stuff together and find helpful details." I say, putting my backpack on, getting the hint from Daryl's nervousness and Annie's shy smile and blush to clear the air for both. After all Daryl is a gentleman and he could never hurt her.

"You'll find me in my apartment. Have a great time." I wave to them as they do back, walking to the pavement to get a taxi back to my place.

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1:30 AM

"So, for arrays, all elements have to be of same data type, but for structures, they can contain elements of different data types."

I keep repeating the key differences of both data structures to get a grip on them.

It's been like 4 hours since I started studying this crap.

"Obviously, computer science concepts are all about problem solving. Like they encounter a problem of wanting to store different data types in the same thing, so they create a structure because arrays ain't helping at that point."

You know what? I'm hungry. I'mma leave this crap and go get myself some food.

I walk downstairs, petting my sleeping puppy, heading to the kitchen.

Orange juice.

Toasts.

Spready cheese.

Yup, perfect midnight snack.

"Fünf kleine Fische, die schwammen im Meer,"

"Da sprach die Mutter: Ich warne Euch sehr,"

"Ich wär viel lieber in 'nem kleinen Teich,"

"Denn im Meer gibt es Haie und die fressen Euch gleich,"

"Ach du Schreck, ein Fisch ist weg!"

I sing the kindergarten German song, I've learned through my learning process of the language. The language is hard, but fun. I love learning languages beside my studying major, it just makes me feel more alert.

"Hell, where am I?!"

Excuse me?!

I jump, turning around, stressfully scanning the surrounding.

No, I heard that! That was real!

My breath almost stops when I hear those footsteps out in my hall.

"Oh, it's Y/N."

This voice...

It's...

JungKook?!

"Shit, why out of all places, it'd be hers?!"

I sneak out of my kitchen, catching his big black shoes.

It's him. It's JungKook.

He's staring at my picture with Daryl on the wall.

"She has a brother. Ha, they look like twins."

Well, that's true. Alot of people mistakened me and Daryl for twins.

"Your voice has saved you from a big bad back stab."

He sharply turns around with wide eyes.

A low gasp escapes my lips as I scan his badly bruised face.

A cut on the left side of his lips, right next to his piercing. Another one on his right eyebrow. His knuckles are wounded as well.

My eyes drop on the floor, watching blood droplets on the floor.

One

Two

Three

Crap! He's bleeding!

"Are you cut somewhere else?!" I almost yell in panic as he nods.

"WHERE?!"

He motions to the side of his stomach.

Oh, hell hell!

I take his hand, placing him on the couch, motioning for him to lay as I practically run to the kitchen, taking the emergency kit off the shelf, which I miracleously reached easily and hurry back to him.

Giving him a short glance before snatching his shirt off. A low whimper leaves his lips as he shuts his eyes.

"It's okay, think of something good. It's easy, you're fine." I say, trying to comfort him. "I have nothing good to think of." The sad tone lingers over his sentence making my chest clench.

"A'ight, let's think together, then." I say as I dip a towel in water, going over his abdomen which's stained with lots of blood.

"So, you're my senior, right? I suppose you're an excellent one, as well," He muffles a hum when I reach near to his wound.

"My mind is blowing off my head, I can't maintain a good understanding of pointers and their relation with dynamic arrays. Could you give a piece of clarity?" Washing the towel to go over his chest, cleaning it from dust and blood.

"Pointers are basically variables, ah," His sentence stops with a moan of pain. I hum, glancing at him to go on. "T-They contain the addresses of a specific variable they point t-to, hmm," he tries to go on and stops in pain when I start stitching his wound.

"Right? And how to figure them out in a code, for instance?" I keep the conversation going to distract his attention from pain.

"The data type is of the variable it points to. Like if the pointer is pointing to an integer, they're declared of type integer. 'Cause pointers themselves don't have a type." He goes on, semi-absorbed in his explanation.

"Okay, yup, I think I'm getting it. You're good at this. What else?" I catch a small smile forms on his lips as he looks at me.

"After writing the data type, you put on an astrick operator and name the pointer, AH!" He flinches hard, shutting his eyes with his lips quivering.

"We're done so soon, don't worry." He nods with his hand wandering around. I jump alittle when his hand gets a grip on my thigh, tighthening it in pain.

"Alright, that's about pointers, what about dynamic arrays?" I pop the question again, trying tp go with a smooth flow.

"I-It's about solving the problem of arrays needing a determined fixed size. Sometimes, we don't know the size of our elements and need the user to determine it, so we create a dymanic array which's basically, a-ah, hmm...." I look at him, my heart is tightening in my chest at his sight.

"Basically created at runtime, right?" He nods, breathing heavily.

I finish the last stitich, standing up, smiling.

"Cool, you're full of knowledge, Jeon." I say, cleaning up the floor and table, getting ready to cleanse his facial wounds and knuckles.

"You're intelligent, too, Y/N." I feel something weird in my abdomen at his sentence, with heat creeping on my face.

I come back after disposing the bloody cotton and putting the towel in the washer.

I bend alittle to lift his head and put a pillow behind it, so his blood flow would be regular and I could cleanse his face.

"I'm not going to shoot questions when you're in pain, but who beated you so badly? I suppose they had a knife or some sort of a weapon, as well." I ask, genuinely concerned.

He's silent, staring at my face with tired, but focused eyes. I avoid his eye contact, focusing on his face.

"Yeah, a knife." He says shortly, closing his eyes.

"That's dangerous." I state the obvious awkwardly.

"For you." Furrowing my eyebrows, I stop to look at him in question.

"You just saved someone they wanted dead." My face glooms at his sentence, furrowing my eyebrows.

"Whoever they are, they don't determine who lives and who dies." I almost hiss in anger, 'cause I hate it when bunch of criminals with zero ethics think that they could decide in anybody's life.

"You don't know, and you won't want to know." He says tiredly, sighing heavily.

"I don't care to know as well. All I care about is that you stay safe." I catch myself alittle bit protective of his state that I glance at him; to see him smiling alittle.

"Thanks, Y/N." This sounds genuine. His overall speech is normal and genuine, not playful and vicious like it was in the party.

"It's nothing. I, actually, did the bare minimum." I say, looking away from his face, thinking about his words.

He seems truthful, vulnerable and in pain, obviously. Some sick people wants him dead. He might have done some bad stuff to them, but death solves nothing.

It causes pain and grief for petty things that could have easily been solved peacefully. Desires of authority, property and money, do drive people off limits and cause them to be monsterous.

Those who were once good, become thirsty for these, thirst turns into greed, they drive themselves further and further to reach these things and when they do....they become unrecognizable, scary.

"You're off the planet now, Y/N. Don't tell me you're too affected by my injuries." He speaks with hint of sarcasm, makes me furrow my eyebrows.

"What? Like I'm not, TRUTHFULLY?!" I stress my last word quite loudly as he chuckles.

"Won't lie, you seem like you're." He shrugs as I nod in satisfaction that he realizes my genuinity.

"But, is it possible that someone would gloat over your injuries?" It's his turn to furrow his eyebrows with a sarcastic smile on his lips. But, his eyes...his eyes has a flash of sadness on display right now...disappointment.

"Everyone would, without any exaggeration. Who wouldn't wish for the absolute destruction for Jeon JungKook, the fuckboy, the spoilt, the mafia, the...the murderer? Ha, you're making it funnier by thinking otherwise, Y/N."

The way he speaks right now is not like how he was in the party, nor how he was described by almost everyone. He knows the rumours around him and I'm sure, even if he tries to hide it, that it's so bitter for him.

"You know people's talks don't matter. The real question is are you that bad, JungKook?" My voice autmotically turns low and soft as if I'm approaching a castle...a castle made of glass, too afraid for it to shatter.

He starts to flutter his eyes open and close as he smiles faintly.

"I'll leave it a mystery 'till we meet again, Y/N." And by that he shuts his eyes, ready to drift into a deep slumber. I stand up slowly, leaving him on the couch and cautiously, walking up the stairs to my room.

》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》

Ding

"What?!"

Shooting up upright, I turn to the alarm with enemy eyes, turning it off.

"Can't you just shut up?! It's literally five in the morning." I say, arguing as if it's a real person.

Wait, JungKook! Let's check up on him.

I put on my slippers, fixing my hair with my fingers as I walk down the stairs.

"Good morning, Jung-....JungKook?!" He is nowhere on the couch.

"JungKook?!" I call again to meet utter silence. Checking the kitchen, he isn't there as well.

He left.

It's literally 5:10 am, when did he leave when I left him on 2:30 am? Is he insane?

"Fine, Jeon, whatever you like." I lowkey sulk, standing up. My aprubt stand causes a piece of paper to fly away to the kitchen.

"I remember cleaning before bed?" I go and reach to it.

Hm, it's folded?

Opening it, it reads :

"Yo, it's 3:55 am right now, in case you wanna know when I left. I just wanted to thank you for keeping me here, stitching and all. I had to leave 'cause I wanna cause no trouble to you whether by the fuckers after me or your brother coming by, thinking you're having a guy in your place behind his back or something. So yeah, bye.

JungKook."

Well, that's kinda sweet of him. He stopped alot of overthinking by this note. "Will we meet again, JungKook?" I fold the note back to the form he did, planning on keeping it. Plus, his handwriting is decent though, ha.

I started to see him differently which scares me alittle. What if I'm wrong? What if it's just all messed up and stupid? What if they're right?

I don't know, let's just brush off these thoughts and get ready for college.

》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》

"Yeah sure, Daryl," I walk with Daryl on the phone, telling me to stay safe 'cause he's travelling out of country for his job's thing.

"Don't worry for real. I'll keep you updated and you, too, okay?" He says "yeah" as we say our goodbyes and hang up.

I'm missing you already, Daryl.

Stepping inside the campus, I notice everyone on their phones, I mean, more than usual. I shake it off, looking for Ruby to tell her about the things Daryl found about the case.

I look through the hallway to find Ruby, her face colour-drained, on her phone ad well.

What's wrong with y'all?

"Y/N! Finally, you're here!" Ruby hurries to me, taking my hand, dragging me aside.

"Woah? What's wrong?" I ask, my eyes falling on her phone screen.

Oh...

"What the fuck are these photos?! I can't believe they did that! Who even?! Oh my God, I'm freaking-"

"Woah, chill, calm down, let's see what kinda crap we're on now."

What's the crap?

Photoshopped, naked photos of me on everyone's phones.

But, guess

Lies got no breath.

》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》

HEY! I'M EXTREMELY SORRY FOR BEING SUPER LATE. EXAMS, PRACTICAL ONES AND RESULTS.

MA PUPPIES ARE DRIVIN ME CRAZY AS WELL, SO YEAH LOL!

HOPE YOU LIKED THIS PART AND PLEASE, COMMENT YOUR THOUGHTS, I'D GLADLY READ AND RESPOND 🌬❣️

》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》

#bts #fanfic #jungkook #taehyung #jungkook x reader #imagines #y/n

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haruhey · 4 years ago

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why is daryl dixon hot

i know this is u @daryldixonluv

consider:

but also consider:

- loyal, observant, resourceful, determined, stubborn, selfless, honest, effective + experienced fighter

- would die for you without hesitation

- ride or die type hoe

- his strong arms would make you feel safe

- his blue eyes agsjdlsb 💗💖💓💘💞💕❤

- broad shoulders

- tall-ish (178cm)

- WHEN HE DUAL WIELDS KNIVES AND SPINS THEM LIKE IN THAT ONE SCENE WITH AARON IN THE LUMBER YARD

- gruff voice (imagine him calling u a hypocorism)

- intimidating and mysterious, but soft when you become his family

- protective (maybe even to a fault)

- fatherly instincts for judith, lydia, carl and rj

- extra hot for breaking the chain of abuse and educating himself about the effects of the abuse he suffered as a kid (shout-out to season 5 when he picked up that textbook about childhood trauma)

- the way his arms flex when he uses his crossbow and then he pulls out the bolt from the walker's head and uses it to stab other walkers??? please???

- when he wielded thAT MORNINGSTAR IN THAT BATTLE SCENE AGAINST ALPHA'S HOARD IN SEASON 10

- that little bit of scruff he has

- i've shown you pictures of him in season 4 and you're still gonna ask me this

- tortured protagonist

- his character development

- grew from being this hot-head redneck asshole who was always in his big brother's shadow to a headstrong, no-bullshit type leader that thinks of other people first.

- his relationships with rick, carol, connie, carl, judith, beth, rj, glenn, michonne, dog, etc

- oh and norman reedus is a yes from me 👍

- this look right here vv

#haruanswers

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doginthecorner · 3 years ago

Note

1. What is the biggest headcanon deviation from the canon material that you have incorporated into the way you write your muse? Why did you come up with it? 3. What is something that was never addressed at all in the canon material that you have independently developed for your muse? 4. Have you made any outright changes to the canon material in order to write your muse the way you wanted (entire scenes you chose to omit, chapters you say never existed, things you assume were never said, etc.)?

1. What is the biggest headcanon deviation from the canon material that you have incorporated into the way you write your muse? Why did you come up with it?

I don’t really think I have any major ones really. I’m very canon compliant. I guess Daryl’s ADHD and dyslexia would be the biggest ones given I don’t consider his asexuality to be a deviation from canon. I just saw a lot of things in Daryl that made me think he’s definitely neurodivergent.

3. What is something that was never addressed at all in the canon material that you have independently developed for your muse?

Daryl’s asexuality. Until last year it never came up in canon and it’s something I independently developed from canon material. It’s still very much a part of my portrayal and writing of Daryl and him having an on screen sexual relationship does not negate any of that. If anything I think it helps me to show the true spectrum of asexuality.

4. Have you made any outright changes to the canon material in order to write your muse the way you wanted (entire scenes you chose to omit, chapters you say never existed, things you assume were never said, etc.)?

Not really no, I think to this point Daryls characterization has been pretty on board with how I want to write him. It hasn’t stayed the same but neither has Daryl. He’s changed like all people change. I know a lot of people have been pretty unhappy with him this season but I don’t see any of it as being out of character or ruining him. We see him being loyal to his family and doing anything, anything, to keep them safe. It’s another example of that loyal to a fault trait he’s shown since the beginning.

#wexarethewalkingxdead #head canon #head canons

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memelover1024 · 4 years ago

Text

Spy in Alexandria

The Walking Dead - Oneshot 1700 words

Daryl x Negans Daughter/Spy OFC

“How many walkers have you killed?”

“I don't know, a lot”

“How many people have you killed?”

“One”

“Why?”

“He killed my brother, he deserved it.”

Maria sat in one of the cells that they had at the prison, speaking to a man named Rick Grimes. Rick just thought Maria was a weak, small girl surviving on her own in the woods in the middle of the apocalypse. How wrong he was.

“Well i'm Rick Grimes, this is Daryl” he pointed to the beefy hunter staring at her from the corner. “And that's Carol.” Carol smiled at her. She shyly smiled back trying not to be annoyed. Of course she knew who these people were. She had been watching the prison for a week on the orders of her father. Since the group was large she had to gain their trust before her father could make his move, but these people didn't trust easily. This was going to be fun.

Two Years Later

“Don't do this Daryl. You'll get yourself killed, you know that.” she begged, following him out of the house they shared at Alexandria to where he kept his motorcycle, crossbow hung over his back swinging with his steps. He didn't respond to her and just kept walking. Maria knew Dwight and others would be waiting for him. They were making their move soon. She’d tried to delay the inevitable for the people she’d grown to love but she couldn’t stall any longer. Her father was now going to take what he thought was his. All she could do now was hope that the people she loved didn’t fight, more importantly keep the man she loved from getting killed before the real fighting even began.

“Daryl stop” she yelled, catching up to him grabbing his arm. He turned sharply to face her. A stern visage.

“Why do ya care so much ‘bout what I do” he asked angrily. They stared at each other a moment before Maria grabbed his neck and pulled his lips to hers. Daryl was shocked but then relaxed into her. She pulled away slightly and rested their foreheads together, noses touching.

“Cause I care about you daryl, so please. Don't go.”

“Why?”

“Cause your gonna get yourself killed, and I don't want you to die,”

“You don't know that,”

“But I do” she shrieked. He looked into her eyes.

“How” she wanted to scream at him, at her father at herself. She knew this was going to happen and she got herself attached. She wanted to tell Daryl the truth, about how her father had assigned her to gain their trust but that she fell in love with him, that she was loyal to both groups, not just one. But she couldn't do that. And she knew that if she did, Daryl would probably kill her or at least never trust her again. She knew her father would never leave her out in the cold. If he found out how she felt about her targets she would be punished but she wouldn't be abandoned or killed. Her father had never been a kind man and during the apocalypse he had only gotten colder, but he always kept her safe and she owed him her life. She wouldn't fail him. She could for the sake of her father, the sake of herself, and for the sake of Daryl, cause she knew if he found out about her feelings for Daryl he would kill him.

“You-you cant, you just can’t, you can't, daryl, daryl look at me. Please d-dont.”

“I have to ma’ marie, I'll be back, I promise.” he turned around and walked away towards the bike. He got on and left towards Sanctuary.

“Where is he going?” she heard rosita say behind her. She turned to fing rosita, glen and michonne all running up to her watching daryl leave alexandria. She turned back to watch him as well,

“He's goin after dwight.” she told them.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

The body of the man hangs above them, squirming and struggling. The group looked up at it with sad eyes. The man was still and they felt heat behind them. The roadblock was on fire. Simon's voice then rang through.

“Your treatin’ your people good, right? Like it was your last day on earth? Or maybe one of theirs? You better go, it’s gonna get hot. You go get where you’re going. Well meet you there.” Maria knew Simon was talking to her. It was his little joke anytime he would cross paths with them. He would imbed hidden messages in his words just for Maria.

The group was walking through the woods carrying Maggie on a stretcher. Maria had told them she knew how to get to Hilltop through a path in the woods. That was a lie, it was a path straight to the Saviors. She was leading one of her friends to their death. When they got to the clearing in front of a RV she stopped and they looked to her expectantly.

“Why did you stop? We’re out in the open. We have to get Maggie to Hilltop.” Abraham said to her. She looked at them, her eyes filling with tears.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered tears falling down her face. They all gave her confused looks except Rick. Rick knew. She heard footsteps behind her and she quickly wiped her eyes.

“Well Well Well. It’s so nice of you guys to join us!” Simon mocked a smile on his face.

“Maria?” Carl said to her shocked. Maria just stared at the ground. She couldn’t look at them. Simon started whistling the signature saviors whistle and the clearing was soon surrounded. Dwight and a few others came behind the group and put guns to their heads and took their weapons, forcing them down to their knees. A van pulled up to the clearing and out of the back they pulled Rosita, Eugene, Glen, Michonne, and Daryl. She stared at Daryl as they put him on his knees next to the others. His eyes raised to meet hers and she watched them turn from fear to heartbreak to disgust in a matter of seconds when he saw her on her feet next to Simon and realized what she had done. She wanted to run to him. To explain everything. To tell him she loved him, that she didn’t agree with the saviors and only followed him out of loyalty for her father. A father she didn’t want to love but couldn’t help it. She looked at her new family and mustered up enough courage to stay strongly,

“Don’t fight them.”

“Alright!” Simon announced from beside her. “Let’s meet the man.” Maria watched as her father stepped out of the RV wearing a sick and sadistic smile. She couldn’t watch as her father gave them his what’s your is mine speech so she just looked off to the side and watched the woods. She only turned her attention back to her families when her father walked up to Maggie and raised Lucille.

“Stop,” she said loudly but as respectful as she could, afraid to anger her father. He turned and looked at her for the first time in a little over two years.

“Not her,” she said more quietly. Stern but submissive enough to not anger her father. He smiled at her. And lowered Lucille. Then he just went about his speech. She didn’t take her eyes off him this time. He stopped in front of Carl, a boy that had become a little brother to her over the last two years, and looked over to her asking if he should be his target. She shocked her head at him. Telling him no. He nodded. He didn’t like being told what to do but he appreciated his daughter's advice sometimes and he knew she knew what to do in order to break these people. She just wished he didn’t. He went around his games and eventually landed on Abraham. When he swung his bat she forced herself to watch. She forced herself to experience the same pin the others were even though she was the one to cause it. After he was dead her father began to taunt Rosita will Lucille. She was about to tell him to stop when Daryl ran at her father and punched him. Maria let out a scream and fell to her knees. She knew what would happen now. Someone else was going to die. Either Daryl or someone else.

“Not cool man, I gave you a free pass the first time but still not fucking cool, I warned you what would happen,” he was about to kill another person when Maria ran to him and grab arm. She turned to her anger in his eyes but she didn’t care at that moment.

“You said only one person would die, only one,” she whispered, begging him to stop.

“It’s not my fault they didn’t listen to you sweetheart,” he told her, like he didn’t want to do it. He shook her off his arm and turned around and brought his bat to Glen's skull. She heard Maggie let out a streak. she just stared at her father killing one of their best friends. Eyes filled with tears, mouth hung open in a silent scream. After he was done he grabbed Rick by the collar and dragged him to the RV. Before he drove off he turned to the group.

“Now y’all behave for my daughter now alright. I don’t wanna kill any more of you but I will,” he turned to Simon “Maria’s in charge.” He looked at her and smiled. She gave him a small nod and faked a small smile. And with that he was off. Maria turned toward the people she loved, the man she loved but only saw shock and sadness in their eyes that wouldn’t meet hers. One person did look at her though. Daryl. But all he had in his eyes was hate, not just for Negan but for her.

#the walking dead #fanfiction #original female character

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fluorescentpipedream · 4 years ago

Text

Some character notes while I’m thinking of them

Trevor Phillips (main world)

Mid-40s, Canadian originally, he lived on the border between the US and Canada for most of his young life, in and out of detention facilities and jail for a while before he eventually wound up in LA, around the time Damien and Jax were vying for power. Trevor is what is known as a Berserker, you wind him up and set him loose and he’ll cause carnage until he either runs out of energy, ammo or someone sedates him.

About 5 years ago he was involved in a home invasion gone wrong (or possibly right, I don’t know if he went in with the intention to kill or not) which resulted in a married couple being killed in their homes. The massacre made public attention because of the trial mostly. The neighbor -thought- she had seen him but he was wearing a mask and it was dark so she could only identify him by his hairline. The only one that COULD have identified him was a 3 year old little girl who only said he was like the Grinch, he gave her a cup and put her back to bed. He was acquitted and disappeared into the less populated areas around Los Angeles where Theresa finds him later for a big job she is planning.

Trevor was a bit of a surrogate father type to Ryki and Rory and has very little empathy for nearly everyone. He is the kind of person you could oddly trust with your child but not necessarily your grandparent. He is a drug addict, but not racist, homophobic, he just has a short fuse and often doesn’t take much to set off.

Trevor Phillips (2nd version, alternate world)

Imagine a world where the EPA, FCC, and most government controls have thrown their hands in the air and said fuck it. The people left behind after a pandemic that wiped out about 2/3 of the population just don’t care anymore. Drug addicts, dealers and criminals all play the same game day to day where if they want it, they take it and the one with the most toys at the end wins. This version of Trevor is psychotic, unhinged and gives absolutely no fucks. He would kill someone for a Klondike bar without even flinching.

Simon Knox (yes, -that- Knox)

Simon is Jericho (Lorelei, John & Ryder’s father), Daryl and Quinten’s (Ford & Matthew’s father) brother, closer in age to Jericho and not that emotionally stable. Simon joined a motorcycle gang in Georgia when he was a teen and Jericho had been a member before he got married and left them, while his brother remained behind in them. When the Outlaws left the state he moved with them, refusing to continue down the same road as countless members of the Knox family had before him. Blood may be thicker than water but it’s just as easy to cross. Simon has met his nieces and nephews but doesn’t spend much time with the family due in part to his open ended sexuality and a very real threat that if he was ever near “uncle Teddy” again, he’d kill the man (he may have been one of his uncle’s victims but he’s not really liberal with that info right now.)

Simon became a member of the Slayers in LA when the gang he had been with at the time was assimilated into the group. Lethal with any weapon, he doesn’t show much empathy or emotion towards anyone but he does hold some people in very high regard and would follow them to hell. Immensely loyal though never to a fault, he’s dangerous if he’s unhinged. Following the death of BP and his wife, Simon is among the ones captured and thrown into an ultimate death match, in order to wheedle out who murdered them. The home had been the site of a berserker’s rage, there’s only a few in the Slayers capable of that level of violence.

When Queenie makes an appearance and Rollo attempts to kill her, as he failed to do the first time, Simon picks up an axe that was on the ground near him and proceeds to…deal with Rollo. Afterward he kneels to Queenie, as she’s BP’s daughter, she’s the defacto leader.

This one doesn’t have a name yet, he’s a member of a rogue motorcycle group run by a Negan type in our Zombie world. Same basic hallmarks exist in his personality from the other three, fiercely loyal and dangerous though more quiet. Negan somehow comes into possession of Mikail, following a Zombie attack on Kristy & Ryki’s small convoy. While he’s not above murdering children to prove a point, this one often stays close to the little boy acting as protector. Negan and his lot are dangerous but are in control of a lot of weapons and food, if they play their cards right, they can either be a great help or worst enemy of Kristy and Ryki’s small group. Considering he uses the same one as Simon, he may be an alt version of him, I’m not that sure

@musesnotebook

#new #character #steven ogg

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wrathfulmercy · 4 years ago

Text

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕄𝕦𝕤𝕖

ʀɪᴄᴋ ɢʀɪᴍᴇꜱ

The following bio focuses mostly on Ricks main verse in the twd world which is canon divergent. Still we can change every verse the way we like, this is the big advantage of fiction that we are free in decisions we wanna make so all the following dates can be adjusted.

𝐈. 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋.

𝒻𝓊𝓁𝓁 𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑒; Richard D. Grimes

𝓃𝒾𝒸𝓀𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑒𝓈; Rick, Ricky

𝒷𝒾𝓇𝓉𝒽𝒹𝒶𝓉𝑒; 4th June 1973

𝒶𝑔𝑒; 47 (but depends on verse)

𝒷𝒾𝓇𝓉𝒽𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒; Georgia

𝒸𝓊𝓇𝓇𝑒𝒸𝓉 𝓁𝑜𝒸𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃; Alexandria (if not AU)

𝓃𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎/𝑒𝓉𝒽𝓃𝒾𝒸𝒾𝓉𝓎; American, Caucasian-American

𝓁𝒶𝓃𝑔𝓊𝒶𝑔𝑒𝓈; American and British English

𝑔𝑒𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇/𝓈𝑒𝓍; male, pansexual

𝓏𝑜𝒹𝒾𝒶𝒸; Gemini

𝒷𝒾𝓇𝓉𝒽𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓃𝑒; Sapphire

𝒷𝓁𝑜𝑜𝒹𝓉𝓎𝓅𝑒; A+

𝓈𝓅𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓉𝓊𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎; Agnostic

𝑜𝒸𝒸𝓊𝓅𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃; Former deputy, now leader of Alexandria (or wherever we decide to take place)

𝐈𝐈. 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄.

𝒽𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉; 5ft 10 / 177,8cm

𝓌𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉; 176lbs / 80kg

𝒶𝒸𝒸𝑒𝓃𝓉; light british

𝑒𝓎𝑒𝓈; blue

𝒽𝒶𝒾𝓇; light brown, curly, light grayish beard

𝓅𝒾𝑒𝓇𝒸𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈/𝒿𝑒𝓌𝑒𝓁𝓇𝓎/𝓉𝒶𝓉𝓉𝑜𝑜𝓈/𝓈𝒸𝒶𝓇𝓈/𝑒𝓉𝒸;

a silver watch on his left wrist, his old silver wedding ring on his left ring finger, a scar on his nose and some on his body

𝒸𝓁𝑜𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓅𝓇𝑒𝒻𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓈;

jeans and T-shirt with black suede jacket and cowboy boots

𝐈𝐈𝐈. 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘.

𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎;

Rick is typically calm, smart and a good friend and father, but he will often stubbornly cling to his strong personal moral code, which has resulted in numerous bad calls and extra stress within the group. Rick’s greatest fault, perhaps, is his uncanny ability to place responsibility on himself and set for himself goals that are impossible to reach. Despite his faults, his combat skill and general care for all members of the group have led him to be looked up to and allowed him to take the leadership role within the group.

𝒶𝓉𝓉𝒾𝓉𝓊𝒹𝑒;

calm, confident, sometimes distant but very thoughtful

𝓅𝑜𝓈𝒾𝓉𝒾��𝑒 𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒾𝓉𝓈;

♥︎ loyal

♥︎ eloquent

♥︎ humble

𝓃𝑒𝑔𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒾𝓉𝓈;

♡ stubborn

♡ jealous / possessive

♡ brutal and merciless (if needed)

𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒𝓈;

♥︎ Family

♥︎ Burgers & Milkshakes

♥︎ Music

𝒹𝒾𝓈𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒𝓈;

♡ disloyalty

♡ religion

♡ being egoistic

𝑔𝑜𝑜𝒹 𝒽𝒶𝒷𝒾𝓉𝓈;

♥︎ always thinks of the greater good

♥︎ always generous, doesn’t need much himself

♥︎ protecting others

𝒷𝒶𝒹 𝒽𝒶𝒷𝒾𝓉𝓈;

♡ teeth grinding

♡ acting before thinking

♡ being overprotective

𝒽𝑜𝒷𝒷𝒾𝑒𝓈;

♥︎ farming

♥︎ spending time with family

♥︎ dancing

𝒻𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓈;

♡ loosing loved ones

♡ being cheated on or rejected

♡ disappointing anyone as a leader

𝓈𝓉𝓇𝑒𝓃𝑔𝓉𝒽𝓈;

♥︎ Intelligence

♥︎ fighting skills

♥︎ love

𝓌𝑒𝒶𝓀𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑒𝓈;

♡ being impetuous

♡ emotions

♡ love

𝐈𝐕. 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐇.

𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒶𝓁 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓁𝓉𝒽;

sometimes unstable, self harm or being reckless towards himself

𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒶𝓁 𝒾𝓁𝓁𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑒𝓈;

PTSD

𝒶𝒹𝒹𝒾𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈;

none but sometimes smokes or drinks

𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇;

always does the head tilt

𝐕. 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐒.

𝓂𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇; unknown; deceased

𝒻𝒶𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇; unknown; deceased

𝓈𝒾𝒷𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈; none

𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹𝓈;

Daryl, Michonne, Carol, Maggie, Glenn, Abraham, Tara, Rosita, Gabriel, Morgan, Eugene, Sasha and many more (depending if AU)

𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝒶𝓂𝒾𝓁𝓎 𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇𝓈;

son: Carl Grimes

stepdaughter: Judith Grimes

ex-wife: Lori Grimes; deceased

𝐕𝐈. 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘.

𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀𝑔𝓇𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹;

Canon verse from the series mainly but I highly prefer season 4/5 Rick to later ones cause he was such a damn psychopath there :D (but depending on the RP)

𝐕𝐈𝐈. 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂.

𝒻𝒶𝒸𝑒𝒸𝓁𝒶𝒾𝓂;

Andrew Lincoln

None of the used pictures on here are mine, so if you see anything that might be yours and you demand a credit, please let me know!

#rick grimes #rp #roleplay #the muse #muse #twd roleplay #independent rp #open rp

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waynedunlaptheorgandonor · 5 years ago

Text

alpha/beta are carol/daryl foils: an analysis no one asked for; twd s10 spoilers, obviously

hoo boy. okay, so i’ve been intending to write this for days, but i had to let it marinate, and also i haven’t been sleeping and couldn’t concentrate long enough to write it down, but whatever, i digress. “we are the end of the world” was something, wasn’t it?? it is so weird to have a plotline in twd that’s like...good? and SO refreshing to have a villain who isn’t a macho, rapey, white dude. i personally believe that all showrunners should be women from now on. oh, i’m digressing again, my apologies.

here’s the actual content, under the cut bc it’s a fucking novel:

so, from alpha’s very first episode, when i saw her shaving her head, i literally thought, “oh, so she’s carol’s foil and they’re going to have an inevitable showdown, huh?” guess who was right? this bitch. but what i didn’t catch right away was how beta is also daryl’s foil, and how the main focus of this season is alpha/beta vs carol/daryl.

let’s take it apart individually first, yeah?

carol vs. alpha:

like i said, the scene that made me instantly aware of what they were setting up was when alpha shaved her head. carol’s hair was a big thing in season 9, and the fact that we had just had henry talking about carol growing her hair out long, juxtaposed with alpha shaving hers off, is what set the alarm bells off for me. i have said over and over that i don’t believe kang does anything unintentionally, and girl loves her symbolism, so those two opposing scenes was a taste of what she was setting up.

carol and alpha are both near-indestructible forces who also happen to be mother’s suffering the loss of their children at the hand of the other. (carol isn’t directly responsible for lydia, but she’s included with “the others” that took lydia from alpha, so i think alpha still sees her as part of it.)

carol and alpha both have transformed themselves to fit within the confines of the world they currently live in, while recognizing that their children weren’t meant for it, even within their own grief. let us refer to figures a and b (lol) below.

figure a:

here in “the grove” we have creepy girl who i hate and am terrified of asking carol if sophia died because she was weak, and carol straight up is like, “yes.” she doesn’t even sugarcoat it. she accepted that her daughter wasn’t going to survive from the jump, because “there wasn’t a mean bone in her body.”

figure b:

here we see alpha losing her goddamn shit, because she’s having a come-to-jesus moment with beta about losing lydia, because she can’t have lydia and be the alpha at the same time, because lydia “is not like” her.

conclusion: carol and alpha both mourn for their daughters, but have accepted that to be the people they need to be in the apocalypse, their children needed to die (or in lydia’s case, be dead metaphorically). in short, carol and alpha are two sides of the same coin. they’ve both found ways to survive, except one is for the good guys, and the other is for the bad guys, and now they’re head-to-head, and it is d e l i c i o u s.

moving on.

daryl vs beta:

idk why the parallels didn’t occur to me when they had daryl fighting beta. i blame henry, he was distracting me by being a delightful idiot (rip my dumb bitch), but that seed was planted in season 9, too. go kang for continuity. who knew twd could do that? anyway.

the big thing that compares daryl and beta is who they were before they found carol and alpha respectively. we obviously don’t know a whole lot of details about beta’s life, but we have enough to extrapolate and compare, and extrapolate and compare we shall.

alright, so we got our favorite lovable, filthy redneck, who grew up abused and isolated, and then here comes the apocalypse, and the only person he has left is his brother, and that’s what defines him until he loses him, both when rick chained him to a roof, and then again, after a brief relapse, when merle sacrificed himself.

next we have beta, who again, our info is limited, but he does not become “beta” until after whoever that walker alpha puts down is gone. judging by the size, approximate age, and the closeness beta had to him, i’m betting on, you guessed it, his brother.

observe:

figure a:

figure b:

these are both turning points for these men, where they Fully Become the dudes that we know. daryl couldn’t be the daryl we know and love until merle was gone for good, and whatever his actual name is couldn’t become beta until smiley face shirt guy was smooshed.

(side note: how fucking rank does that t-shirt have to be by now? at least the mask dries out, but do you think that t-shirt is just like, melded into beta’s skin at this point? gross.)

so time for the fun part.

alpha/beta and caryl in season 10:

season 10 finds both duos in similar circumstances, by which i mean, alpha and carol are losing their minds, and beta and daryl are like, “uhhhh, you ok?” the men are these women’s confidants, their person, the one they trust and love above all others. carol saved daryl and brought him into a community, and alpha did the same thing with beta. you want more visual aides? well, sure thing, scout!

figure a:

we’re carylers, we already know carol’s the reason daryl has the confidence and self-esteem to become part of the group, but juxtapose this with the following pic, which i will label

figure b (again):

and you will see that alpha sees something in beta that no one else does. she sees this lonely, talented man, who’s adrift and in solitude, and she essentially calls dibs. sound familiar? inorite?

so daryl and beta are now loyal to a fault to their women, and this season already has them being wary of how they’re acting. yes, i have more pictures. i like taking screenshots, okay?

figure a:

one of the first scenes we get with caryl is daryl asking carol if she’s still thinking about alpha, and if she is Dwelling, which is interesting, because...

figure b:

...that’s exactly the same thing we get with alpha and beta. the first scene in “we are the end of the world” with the two of them in present day is him questioning her motives, and then later on he’s like, “fuck, are you Dwelling?”

and both women immediately are like:

and neither dude knows wtf to do about this, because they’re used to the women being the strong ones. carol’s whole, “you’ve got to feel it, but not me, i’m good repressing, conceal don’t feel” thing, mixed with alpha’s, “we’re living like the dead and the dead don’t feel emotions so obviously I Am Fine” motto is what their boys are used to, but suddenly carol is hallucinating dead children, and alpha is making shrines, and our poor dudes are like, “plz stop???” esp bc they know these women are FUCKING TERRIFYING, and should never be left to their own devices if they’re being crazy crackers.

ergo, both men are clinging to the hope that they can bring the women back from the brink. my last visual aides, yes i know, how sad:

figure a:

figure b:

both scenes have these dudes reaching out to their women and essentially expressing, in their own way, “i’m worried about you, can you plz stay within eyesight at all times, ilu,” bc neither daryl nor beta is equipped to have a nice long sit down conversation about feelings, and obviously carol and alpha wouldn’t bother to entertain it in the first place, so like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. they tried.

will it work? unlikely! because after that showdown at the end of both eps 1 and 2, these bitches ain’t about to stop for nothing. they just straight up made enemies for life, and they’re going straight harry potter with this shit, neither can live while the other survives, someone has to die, and while beta and daryl are not super on board with this whole “being bonkers and bent on revenge” thing, you better bet your ass that they’re going to make sure their woman is the winner, which means they automatically are paired up against one another as well.

so in a nutshell: we could have just stuck goatees on mmb and norman reedus, cast them as alpha and beta, and called them mirror!verse caryl (star trek reference, yay/nay?), because they’re mother fucking foils setting up for the mother fucking fight of the century, and oh my god, can you feel it in your bones how exciting it is that it’s not going to be a rick + negan dick measuring contest again? i am So Hype.

and ofc, as a hardcore caryl shipper, i obviously have to throw in that alpha and beta are totally in love (which is esp fun, bc whisperers aren’t supposed to feel love, uh oh, vulcan violation, yes i made another star trek reference, bite me), and if they are paralleling caryl, well...extrapolate from the evidence.

i love kang, you guys. i love how she tells a story. i love that she knows how to tell a story. this show is good again, and idk how she did it, but damnit, she did.

thus endeth my pointless critical analysis. forgive me. i was an english major and have absolutely no other use for my degree.

i’m ashamed too.

that’s all. tomorrow is the early release of the caryl episode, i mean the new episode. looking forward to dying a valiant death with the lot of you. until then, friends.

deuces,

-diz

addendum: i was editing this, and was trying to think if there’s a parallel to the bracelet scene, and the only thing i could think of that alpha gives beta is his mask. she encourages him to take the face of his brother(?), and that keeps him grounded, which is interesting, bc my prediction for the bracelet is that it’s going to end up being a grounding device for carol when she’s dissociating. i don’t have a solid conclusion drawn there, but i thought i’d mention it before posting, just to plant the seed.

k, done 4 real, bye

#alpha/beta #do they have a ship name?#bc i'm worried it's gonna get tagged in that weird kink stuff #gdi #whatever #moving on #caryl #carol peletier #daryl dixon #twd s10 spoilers #twd #dunlap tp

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dontdietwd · 5 years ago

Text

Day 178

Twenty-eight weeks pregnant. Almost five months since the world ended. Thirty-seven days since we lost the house. Three and a half months without the group. Without Daryl.

It was not all bad. We had good moments. Each one had kept their own car and we could carry a lot of things with us, things that made us safe and comfortable. We had weapons, food, water, and we got good in finding shelter. Basements were our spot of choice and we could stay in a place for about a week until all resources from said place were gone or if we were overrun. Our little four-way group, just like it had been when it was just Michonne, Andrea and I, worked great together. The three of them kept on looking at me for the most important decisions, but most part of time we all thought like one, sometimes we didn’t even need to speak.

Merle was… Adapting. And incredibly more capable of adapting I would have ever thought he was. Not being on drugs or even drinking anymore had changed him. Well, of course, he was still Merle. Hot headed, foul mouthed, surely an asshole. On the first few days he came on to Andrea and Michonne like a thirsty man at the sight of water, but was slowly letting it go, respecting them more. But one thing he did from the first day on the road as protect. Merle was like our body guard, not that we needed it too much since the three of us were more than capable of fighting, but he took upon himself that this was his role, he would protect and defend us. This I had always known about Merle. Even when he was a bad person, he’d always had my back, had always protected me. The man was loyal to a fault. It was a Dixon thing. I would never forget how at the simple sight of me Merle had turned his back to the bandits he’d been working for, given up on a big, thriving community with all the comforts that came with it, and walked away with us to live the perils of homelessness in the apocalypse, all to be near me again. Not that I understood it completely. I didn’t really know why he was such a loyal friend to me. Not that I was complaining, of course. Having him around was good, he was even able to make me laugh and was showing the good parts of his personality.

He also made me feel somehow closer to Daryl and, incredibly, made me keep the positivity that one day we’d find him. My hopes went down many, many times, to the point I could give up and just accept Daryl was in the past, but Merle would have it. He was certain we’d still find him, just like he’d been certain he would one day find me and his brother. Merle had always though he’d find us together, at the same time, and not separately, but still. He believed it for real and made me keep faith as well.

That day we had been driven away from the bank we’d been holed up in for nearly a week by a small heard and the fact that the place was stinking so bad it was getting hard to breathe in, so we were on the road again. We had taken to drive only two cars and tow the others with ropes as a form of saving gas but still having all the cars.

It was a dirt side road, much like where our previous house had been, and there was an untrimmed, overgrown long hedge that went on for like fifty or sixty yards until there was a wide opening at a corner. I slowed down to a stop, looking at it. Seconds later, Andrea stopped her car by our side and I could see she and Michonne were also observing the same thing I was.

“What ya think’s inside?” Merle asked by my side.

“Let’s find out,” and I moved with the car again until we parked in front of the opening.

Inside we could see it was a paved street that elongated into the area, trees all around it and two or three houses barely visible, one of them pretty close to the opening. It was very quiet. The four of us came out of the cars, all thinking the same. We would do the same thing we’d been doing for so long: check, clear, loot, and if it was good, stay for as long it was possible.

It was a huge square shaped area, streets on two sides with the gateless opening right on the corner, and dense woods on the other two sides. It took us a while to round it all and make sure it was all closed – it wasn’t, really, there was a small metal fence gate on the back that led to the woods, weed overgrown nearly covering it all, rusted and locked tight. Getting back to the opening, we slowly and silently made our way in.

Before we could reach the first house, though – it was a mobile home styled house, we could see now, walkers came out of the trees and from around the house itself. Many of them. Refusing to shoot because of the noise, we dealt with over a ten of them before getting to the minuscule house porch. More were coming when Merle busted the door opened, no time to check for sound or look through the windows this time, and we entered. There were two more inside, which Andrea and Michonne killed off as Merle and I dragged a couch to secure the door with its ruined lock. Walkers outside tried to get in, loud groans and nails scratching the wooden door.

Still silently, we checked the house and found it was clear. It was a tiny one-bedroom trailer, fully furnished, with just the one door as a way in. I was already opening the kitchen cabinets trying to find anything useful and it was all there, like someone had been living there before the world ended and left without packing anything. There were bags of chips and pasta and cans of soup, meat and sauces. In the bedroom Andrea found a dresser filled with men’s clothes.

Merle was already sitting on the couch, groaning at his aching legs, when we all gathered there, the walkers outside still trying to get to us. Right by the door there was a table and booth and a window above it. Sliding into the booth and taking my knife out, I opened at the window a crack and hit the knife there on the windowsill to get their attention off the door. Using the crack, I started stabbing their heads, making them drop one by one. Michonne quietly approached and gestured me to let her do it after around ten minutes I’d been doing it, and kept on going. The number of walkers increased, their own kind attracting the attention of others, and then dropped again until no more were heard around the house. Outside, there was a pile of dead, fetid corpses.

“Let’s get the cars in,” I told them, the first word I’d spoken in hours.

We had to skip over the walkers’ bodies to get out of the trailer and then went back outside to get the cars. The noise of the engines attracted more of them.

“Son of a bitch, motherfuckers just keep comin’!”

“We’ll do the same again,” I said from his side in the car. “Go further, to the next house.”

The second house was a little larger than the first, and it looked a bit more well taken care of. The owner was still inside, a chubby little old lady who might have been a cute grandma once. It was not hard putting her down. This house was a two-bedroom, cozy little home with flowery curtains on the kitchen window and what had been daisies now dry in a vase.

Right across the street there was the largest of the three houses, painted in olive with white windows and a more spacious porch. This house was the next one we’d go in, but it was probably going to be the last one because it was going to get dark soon. We crossed the street on a quick run and tested the door before busting it open and found it unlocked. Al usual, Merle went in first and froze right there, the three of us hovering around his shoulders.

“Move Merle!” Michonne told him as we eyed the walkers that were coming close to our backs.

Instead, Merle put his arms up, his knifed stump in the air as he said, “No need to shoot, man.”

Fuck.

Looking around him, I saw there was a man inside, a .12 shotgun pointed right at Merle’s chest.

“Incoming!” Andrea warned us and I had to turn away from the living man threat to deal with the dead ones. Still under the man’s aim, Merle didn’t move to help us, but he did step away from the threshold and back onto the porch. We were lucky there weren’t many of them on this tide. Finishing the last one, I ran back to Merle and rounded him as I dropped my bush axe and stood in front of him.

“Fuck you doin’?” Merle reacted.

“Hey, we mean no harm!” I told the man who looked from Merle to me. He looked like he was trying to be firm but his eyes betrayed him. He was scared as hell. “We’re just looking for a safe place, same as everyone else! We’ll just go,” and I nudged Merle with my back to his chest to make him take a step back, which he did.

“Will?”

Okay, what? It was a female voice, weak and sounding real old, coming from the inside of the house. The man, Will, turned his head nervously to look at the direction it came from and them back at us.

“D’you have company, dear?” she spoke again.

“No, Ma!” Will said nervously. “Was just someone at the wrong house. They’ll be goin’ away now!”

“Oh, okay. I just made lemonade, if they want some!”

“Go!” Will ordered.

“You got a group?” I asked him.

“Sam, let’s just go!” Michonne whispered from behind me.

“No group, but this is our house and you’re not welcome!”

“It’s just you in this place?”

“That I know of.”

“We ain’t a threat, Will,” I told him, trying to sound calm, my hands still in the air. “Were just looking for a safe place. We might stay in one of the other houses for the night, if you don’t mind.”

“How can I be sure you ain’t a threat?” he asked and his voice shook a little.

“You got an elder here, man,” Merle answered instead of me. “Wouldn’t harm an old lady.”

His shotgun went down just a little as he said, “Just stay away from my house!”

“We will!” I assured him and told the others over my shoulder, “Go on guys, let’s go back across the street.”

Behind me I felt them move backwards, Merle’s chest not touching my back now, and I saw as Will licked his dry lips nervously.

“You got any food?” he asked.

“Not much, but I can spare you some if you’re hungry,” I told him. “But only if you stop pointing that gun on us.”

He looked to his side into the house again and back at us nervously before doing so. We were still outside.

“She’s 97,” he told us. “She ain’t got a clue what’s happenin’.”

“I understand, Will. My name is Sam, this is Merle,” he looked at Merle who was hovering over my shoulders. “Andrea and Michonne. We really don’t mean any harm, okay?”

He nodded nervously, swallowing hard.

“She didn’t really make a lemonade, ya know.”

“Thought so,” I tried smiling at him, but my heart was still accelerated. “It’s just the two of you?”

“No, my sister’s out there, went looking for food. We wanted to go in the other houses but there’s always dead people inside. Can’t get bit and leave Ma alone.”

“Okay, just make sure your sister doesn’t shoot us when she comes back home?” I asked him and he nodded. “We’ll get you some cans, alright?”

“Ya sure ‘bout that, darlin’?” Merle asked me. “Man just had a fuckin’ shotgun pointed at my chest a minute ago.”

“Yeah, and we tried to break into his house. You’d do the same.”

“Ya sure ya can spare?” Will asked and eyed my stomach. “I see ya need it.”

“Wouldn’t give it away if we couldn’t spare it.”

I did give him some, we’d found a good amount in the first house and had all that we’d been carrying with us in the cars. We were good. We didn’t get to see his old mother then, we just went back to the house across the street and stayed there. Sun went down and we arranged a quick dinner – there was still gas in the gas canister outside, so we could warm the food up and boil the water that came out of the faucet. It was a clear water but you never know. After eating we make sleeping and lookout arrangements.

Merle wouldn’t take his eyes off the window and the house across the street. We could see the light of oil lamps in there and shadows inside. Once I could see three of them, which meant the sister had come back without us seeing it. Maybe the house had a back door. They didn’t get out or did anything else, though, but I could see Merle was worried and if I knew him well, he wouldn’t be leaving that window any time soon.

The house went silent and we lit a few candles to be able to see anything. I stood by Merle, looking out as well. There were crickets and cicadas singing outside and it reminded me of the quarry camp, the tents, and Daryl. As if on cue, the baby moved and I rested my hand on my stomach and I saw Merle look down at it quickly before looking out again.

I thought of when we were on the road and stopped at a gas station, right after we left Savannah. Daryl and Merle were bickering and I heard Merle tell Daryl not to hit on me and I hadn’t wanted to hear it that time, but now thinking of it I knew Merle didn’t approve the idea then. That’s why I hadn’t told him yet. He’d get mad at Daryl for doing what he told him not to do. For some reason… But I wanted to tell him, he deserved to know, especially if we were gonna find Daryl sometime in the future. I didn’t want it to be a surprise to Merle when I jumped on Daryl right in front of him.

“Hey,” I said quietly and Merle looked at me. I pointed at my stomach where my boy was moving quite energetically. Merle didn’t understand, so I reached out for his hand and pulled it so he’d feel it. His eyes went wide when the baby jumped under his palm. He’d never felt it before. “This baby? That’s your nephew,” I whispered. “Daryl may not have made it, but he wanted it. And I wanted it to be his too, so it is. That’s your nephew.”

His look was unreadable, expressionless, but his large, calloused hand still rested there. The baby stopped after a few seconds and I let his hand go and he withdrew it, but still looked at me.

“I know you told him not to,” I moved on. “But we did get together. For a whole four days before that fuckin’ night. And it was real. It was that real thing people talk about and I never believed I’d find.”

Merle looked out the window again, thoughtful. “Thought so,” he told me. “The way you talk ‘bout ‘im…”

“I love him, Merle,” I told him firmly yet gently.

He nodded and was silent for a long moment until he finally said “Told him not to come onto ya.”

“I know. Just don’t know why.”

“’Cause we Dixon’s no good,” he said bitterly ad looked sideways at me. “Known that my whole life. Thought ya could do better.”

“That’s not true, Merle. Fuck do you mean, no good? You two have been rocks in my life since that fuckin’ night at my place. Having my back, protecting me, being my friends, my family. Even before when you were a sonofabitch all the time, you were my friend.”

“Even when I tried to get you ta drink?”

His voice was so bitter when he said that, that I knew he’d been thinking about that night. He felt guilty, ashamed for what he’d done. And he should, it had been a shitty move.

“You did wrong then, Merle, but ya different now. A sober Merle’s a whole different person. I guess you just didn’t know that ‘cause you’d been drunk and stoned for too long.”

“Got told that ma whole fuckin’ life,” his voice sounded like a low thunder. “Old Will Dixon?” he said taking an unconscious look at the house across the street where the other Will lived. “Always sayin’ we were just like’im.”

“Yeah, I know all about the old Dixon,” I said angrily. “What he did to Daryl… And to you, getting you two to believe you were pieces ‘o shit like he was. He just wanted his boys not to be better than him and you both believed it. You even kept telling Daryl those things yourself, ‘cause you believed‘em,” and then I turned fully to Merle, arms crossed. “Well, ya know what? Old Dixon had no fuckin’ idea what he was on about. He didn’t know his sons the way I do now. Ya good enough, Merle. You good enough to be my family and Daryl’s good enough to be my man.”

I don’t think nobody had ever said good things to Merle before. I don’t think anybody had had his back. Nobody had been kind to him and that’s why he got fucked up like he still was, believed himself a piece of shit and therefore acted like it.

He was silent for a long time and I let the moment stretch. He was thinking hard.

“We had a sister, ya know?” he finally said.

“I know. Georgia.”

He nodded, “Meningitis,” he told me. “She was seven, just one year older than Daryl, I was fifteen. Ya reminded me o’ her,” I nodded, wordless. He’d called me Georgia up on the roof in Atlanta. “If that baby there’s my nephew…” he looked at me. “That means ya my sister.”

My eyes filled up with tears. That was it, this was my brother. I had a family. I had two sisters who were sleeping right now, and now I had a brother as well.

“Not that ya takin’ Georgia’s place,” Merle felt the need to say. “No replacing that little angel.”

I laughed tearfully, “I know that. And ya know, you my brother, Merle, but Daryl?” I shook my head slowly. “Daryl ain’t my brother!”

He laughed too saying “Don’t make this gross!”

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rileyjackscn-a · 5 years ago

Text

task 001 → statistics.

Riley Lorde Jackson.

BASIC INFORMATION.

Full Name: Riley Lorde Jackson

Nickname(s): When they were younger, people would call them Bite-sized because of how small they were before their growth spurt. Once they began to grow into themselves and became more involved in the hacking community, they reclaimed and repurposed the name going by Byte. More widely used nicknames include Riles, RJ, or their middle and last names: Lorde or Jackson.

Age: 26

Date of Birth: November 15, 1993

Hometown: Mystic, CT

Current Location: Mystic, CT

Ethnicity: Exact heritage unknown.

Gender: Non-binary

Pronouns: They/Them/Theirs

Orientation: Queer is their preferred label for their sexual and romantic orientation. Simply put... they’re just not straight.

Religion: Agnostic and very Spiritual

Political Affiliation: Leftist

Occupation: Audio Engineer at Mystic Radio

Living Arrangements: Apartment with roommate(s), which can be seen here. With their podcast, they end up having quite a few professional visitors over, so they enjoy having a somewhat fun, polished place for people to come back to; although, they may admittedly go a bit too far with all of their refurbished musical instruments and skating gear for appliances and furniture.

Language(s) Spoken: English, ASL, Coding languages including but not limited to: HTML, CSS, Java, JavaScript, Pyton, Cobol, C, C++, SQL.

Accent: General American accent ( see here because i love their voice sm )

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE.

Face Claim: Quintessa Swindell

Hair Colour: Medium-dark brown like this

Eye Colour: Medium/dark honey brown

Height: 5′6′’

Weight: 114 lbs

Build: Lean ( lean muscle from their continued yoga and skateboarding )

Tattoos: A tattoo on their side of a scene from a protest ( in Atlanta not L.A. ), a tattoo on their right hand as seen in this picture, the following coding tattoo on their right bicep.

Piercings: Double pierced lobes, double helix on their left ear, septum piercing, left side of their nose pierced.

Clothing Style: Androgynous skater is their go to style as seen here; although, every once in awhile they do enjoy playing with their style and present more feminine or masculine. That being said, they always will steer towards more of a skater or grunge style.

Usual Expression: They always look like they are up to something, small smirk or at least an amused expression. ( x )

Distinguishing Characteristics: natural hair, playful grin, high cheekbones, large eyes

HEALTH.

Physical Ailments: Asthma, Scoliosis, High Blood Pressure.

Neurological Conditions: N/A ( currently, although history of Major Depressive Disorder )

Allergies: Lactose Intolerant

Sleeping Habits: Their sleeping habit is that they have no habit when it comes to sleep. They will wake up at 6 AM some days and noon others. They will fall asleep at 9 PM or at 4 AM others. A lot of it will depend on their work schedule.

Eating Habits: When they first moved to Atlanta, their diet was horrible as they forgot about eating while trying to ‘make it’. After getting their bearings, they have maintained a much more regulated diet. Due to ethical and health reasons, they are now vegan, and seldom break it.

Exercise Habits: Despite making fun of it when they first weaseled their way into a yoga instructor position, they have fallen in love with yoga and will commit to setting aside time for it each day. They also continue to love and regularly skateboard.

Emotional Stability: They’re fairly stable at about a seven on the outside. They act out emotionally when someone wrongs them or their loved ones, but they do it in a way that is calculated and precise ( even if still irrational ).

Sociability: They are extremely social, and they really try to avoid from having too much alone time.

Body Temperature: They’re almost always cold. Living in Atlanta heat was perfect for them, and now that they’re back, it’d be a shock to find them without a sweatshirt or jacket nearby.

Addictions: N/A

Drug Use: Fairly regular marijuana usage and social ( though rare ) shroom usage. They used to use much more frequently and a wider range of drugs, but they have stopped and are firm about only using natural substances.

Alcohol Use: Social usage. They usually drink beer or tequila.

PERSONALITY.

Label: Playful Hacker

Positive Traits: Charismatic, Confident, Ingenious, Adaptable, Sociable

Negative Traits: Critical, Rebellious, Cynical, Flirtatious, Secretive

Goals/Desires: They really want to be able to conduct a score for a film ( or any size ) some day or help produce an album or song. Short term, they want to be able to move out of Mystic permanently, and they are even interested in moving internationally.

Fears: They’re scared of being alone and dying alone, they’re scared of the future, and they also hate and are terrified of clowns.

Hobbies: skateboarding, yoga, researching random topics, making their podcast, writing/composing music

Habits: rubbing their fingers, drinking coffee in excess, bouncing their legs when making music, pulls on/adjusts piercings

FAVOURITES.

Weather: warm & sunny

Colour: golden yellow or bright orange

Music: They don’t have a specific style that they like. It really depends on their mood of the day. They will even listen to old school bluegrass, which throws people off. They are very into music that can make them feel something, whether that be emotional and ready to cry, relaxed and like you could drive for hours with the window down, or energized and ready to dance.

Movies: They love indie movies, sci fi movies ( about space in particular ), thriller/cerebral flicks, and bad horror movies.

Sport: Skateboarding

Beverage: Ice coffee

Food: They snack obsessively on kale chips drenched in cayenne.

Animal: They loves cats and have one of their own.

FAMILY.

Father: Daryl Jackson ( deceased ), veteran

Mother: Nancy Jackson, caretaker and nurse at nearby assisted-living center.

Sibling(s): N/A

Children: N/A

Pet(s): One cat ( unknown breed ) named Tony Pawk

Family’s Financial Status: Working class

EXTRA.

Zodiac Sign: Scorpio sun — at their best, they are focused, brave, loyal, faithful, and ambitious. At their worst, they are jealous, possessive, secretive, dominating, and resentful.

MBTI: ENFP-A ( Campaigner ): The Campaigner personality is a true free spirit. They are often the life of the party, but unlike types in the Explorer Role group, Campaigners are less interested in the sheer excitement and pleasure of the moment than they are in enjoying the social and emotional connections they make with others. Charming, independent, energetic and compassionate, the 7% of the population that they comprise can certainly be felt in any crowd. // “It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for – and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing. It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool – for love – for your dreams – for the adventure of being alive.” // At their best, they are curious, observant, energetic and enthusiastic, excellent communicators, know how to relax, and very popular and friendly. At their worst, they have poor practical skills, find it difficult to focus, overthink things, get stressed easily, highly emotional, and independent to a fault.

Enneagram: Type 8 is also known as The Challenger. Eights see themselves as strong and powerful and seek to stand up for what they believe in.

Temperament: Sanguine

Moral Alignment: Chaotic Good — A chaotic good character acts as his conscience directs him with little regard for what others expect of him. He makes his own way, but he's kind and benevolent. He believes in goodness and right but has little use for laws and regulations. He hates it when people try to intimidate others and tell them what to do. He follows his own moral compass, which, although good, may not agree with that of society. Chaotic good is the best alignment you can be because it combines a good heart with a free spirit. However, chaotic good can be a dangerous alignment when it disrupts the order of society and punishes those who do well for themselves.

Primary Vice: Lust

Primary Virtue: Diligence

Element: Fire

#mystic: task #✧┆tasks ( all ).#✧┆tasks ( 001 ).

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