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jamesbucksiclebarnes · 5 years

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Rating: Mature - Language, Violence, Mentions of Child Abuse

Chapter List: [1] | [2] | [3] | [4] | [5]

[AO3 Link] | [Fic Page]

SERIES SUMMARY:

"Not human. She was not human. They all knew it. Could almost feel it, but couldn't make sense of it. That was why they were afraid. Not because of what she used to be Before. But because of what she was now."

Having found herself serving as the right-hand to the Governor for too long, Synnove le Jacques does her best to make things right with the people of the Prison. Stuck beside her partner in crime, her irritatingly obnoxious and hideously problematic best friend, Merle, she does her best to fight back against the monster she has let the Governor become.

CHAPTER TITLE: The Water of Kinship

As Merle opened his mouth to yell out “three”, a quick series of cracks echoed through the air around us. Gunfire blasted through the shattered windows of the rundown warehouse, causing the crowd to scatter in panic.

Quickly, while the other two were somewhat stunned, I unhooked my chain from around Daryl’s throat and grabbed his arm. I could see the bright light flashing along to the sound of gunfire to our left and began to drag the man towards it. Merle, thankfully, snapped out of his shock quick enough to follow.

Martinez spotted us. Our gazes met for a fraction of a second before he stepped to the side, pretending to take cover from the bullets ricocheting off the metal support beams, allowing us to pass. The three of us made it out through the large entryway, where a group of people I didn’t recognise were waiting, partially hidden behind the scattered rubbish left out in the open area outside the warehouse.

“Daryl,” the closest one called. It was a man wearing a dirty flannel shirt and loose jeans, a light beard brushed across his sharp jawline. “Let’s go.”

We began to follow him when he turned and thrust an accusatory finger in Merle’s face. “You’re not going anywhere with us.”

“You really want to do this now? Come on, man.” Merle whined, gesturing for him to get a move on.

Neither man moved for a few moments before Daryl interjected. “Rick, come on.”

“We’ve got to go,” Merle insisted, glancing over his shoulder at the chaos inside the warehouse. We both knew it wouldn’t last much longer.

“Then go,” Rick growled.

Merle looked to his brother. “A little help would be nice.”

“We ain’t got time for this,” Daryl grumbled.

I spotted Maggie, coming out from behind the edge of the building with a rifle. She began to lead us toward the eastern wall, where I’d told her the easiest escape route was earlier that night.

Merle and I followed behind his brother, ignoring the scathing look from the one named “Rick” as we went.

We managed to escape rather easily, only having to clear a few biters that must have managed to slide in through the loose panel from our path. In the rush, I didn’t even think to close the panel behind us. If I paused for too long, it wasn’t as if these people would wait for me. I had to keep up of my own volition or risk leaving Merle along with them. And, honestly, I didn’t even know who would get the worst end of that situation. Them or Merle himself.

Once we were home free, the five of us made our way through the dense trees until the cool light of dawn broke over the forest. I spotted the silver car in the distance a few moments before Rick called out, “Glenn!”

“Rick?” a familiar voice responded. Glenn stepped out from behind the vehicle, parked along the side of the road. “Thank God.”

Another figure appeared beside him. It was Michonne. The two of them began to jog through the thin collection of trees towards us.

Rick lifted his hands and suddenly increased his speed, trying to reach the two of them before they spotted us. “Now, we got a problem here. I need you to back up.”

He spoke in that calming yet equally condescending voice most police officers had down to an artform and gestured for Glenn and Michonne to return to their place behind the car. It was an attempt made in vein. The moment Glenn’s blackened eye slid across to where Merle and I were approaching, his face contorted into pure rage. Beside him, Michonne took a confident step forward and lifted her sword.

“What the hell is he doing here?” Glenn demanded; eyes locked on the man by my side. Maggie ran to him, turning to face us as she lifted her own gun at Merle just as Rick lifted his gun to point it at Michonne.

Daryl stepped in front of Merle and I, lifting a hand in defence.

“Hey, hey! Put it down!” Rick ordered Michonne, just as Merle and I lifted our hands in surrender.

“He tried to kill me!” Michonne yelled in response.

“If it wasn’t for him –“ Glenn began, but Daryl cut him off.

“He helped us get out of there,” he tried to argue. “They both did.”

“Yeah, right after they beat the shit out of you,” Rick snapped from beside him.

“Hey, we all took our licks, man,” Merle argued, gesturing between Daryl and I.

I just stayed silent, my chained hands lifted as I looked between everybody with raised brows. The last thing I wanted to do was get in the middle of this absolute clusterfuck of pointed weaponry.

“Jackass,” Daryl hissed toward his brother.

Merle began to move forward. “Hey, shut your mouth!”

Rick turned toward him just as Michonne began to step past him, her sword raised higher. He quickly turned back, gun pointed at her head as he demanded authoritatively, “Put that down now!”

Glenn still had his gun raised, pointed toward Merle until Daryl whirled around and stood clearer between them.

“Get that damn thing outta my face,” the younger Dixon yelled.

That made Merle chuckle. “Damn. You gone all native, brother.”

Daryl turned on him, gripping the strap of his crossbow in one hand and gesturing back towards the way we’d come with the other. “No more than you hangin’ out with that psycho back there.”

“Oh, yeah, man,” Merle deadpanned. “He’s a real charmer, I gotta tell you that. Hey, Jacques?”

I looked at him with wide eyes, my hands still raised. “Oh, I am not even remotely getting involved in this.”

Merle scoffed before turning and catching Michonne’s gaze. “Been putting the wood to your girlfriend, Andrea,” the old man sneered as he began approaching her. “Big time, baby.”

I grabbed him by the back of his shirt and yanked him backwards before either Rick or Michonne could shove their respective weapons into his eye socket.

“Andrea’s in Woodbury?” Glenn asked, glancing between everyone, finally having lowered his gun.

“Right next to the Governor,” Daryl answered, sounding none too pleased about it.

Michonne took a step toward the younger Dixon, gradually lifting her blade in defence of her friend, when Rick whirled on her.

“I told you to drop that,” he snapped.

She took a step back.

“You know Andrea?” Rick asked her, taking a step towards her. She glanced between Merle and I, clenching her teeth as the man before her continued to press. “Hey, do you know Andrea?”

Merle interrupted before she could even make an attempt to answer. “Yep, she does,” he said, turning to me and giving me a light jab with his elbow. “Don’t she?”

“Stop bringing me into this,” I answered with a slight shake of my head.

“Seriously?” Merle grunted in exasperation before turning back to face Rick and throwing his hand in the general direction of Michonne. “Her and blondie were cuddled up all winter out in the forest. Mmm-mmm.” He gave her a sickening grin.

I rolled my eyes for good measure.

“My Nubian queen here had two pet biters,” Merle continued. “No arms, cut off the jaws. Kept ‘em in chains.” He let out a curt chuckle and glanced at me. “Kind of ironic now that I think about it, isn’t it?”

I just shook my head at him with a pointed look. Stop bringing attention to me, jackass.

“Shut up, bro,” Daryl growled, spinning to face us.

“Hey man. Jacques here snagged ‘em out of the woods,” Merle remarked, turning to look at Rick whilst throwing this good hand in my direction.

I swear to God, Merle.

“Spotted ‘em spying with those keen eyes of hers. Got you both before you even knew she was there, didn’t she?” he asked, directing that one at Michonne, who looked across to me with a neutral expression.

She, thankfully, didn’t answer. At least someone understood why I might not want that kind of attention.

“Lucky for them, too,” Merle continued. “Andrea was close to dying.”

“Is that why she’s with him?” Maggie asked, looking at Michonne.

Merle nodded, again interjecting before anyone else could answer. “Yeah,” he said with a smirk. “Snug as two little bugs.”

The group shared a few looks before Merle stepped up to Rick, sneering that infuriating sneer of his.

“So, what you gonna do now, Sheriff? Huh? Surrounded by a bunch of liars, thugs, and cowards.”

“Shut up!” Rick snapped, barely even glancing at him. His focus was too heavily on Michonne.

“Oh, man. Look at this.” Merle shook his head as he looked this Rick guy up and down. “Pathetic. All these guns and no bullets in ‘em.”

“Merle, shut up,” both Daryl and I yelled at the same time.

Merle whirled on me. “Shut up yourself! So much for stayin’ out of it!”

He began to wave that stupid metal appendage in my face, and I reached up to grab it with both my chained hands, ducking beneath it and stepping around him to pull it taut behind his back. A hoarse yell of pain escaped him as he fell to his knees and I bent down slightly to speak directly into his ear.

“You need to stop talking, you fucking moron,” I growled.

He tried to turn back to face me, but my grip on his arm made him hiss out a curse, forcing him to remain with his back to me. Still, that didn’t seem to stop him from continuing his idiotic rant. “You callin’ me a damn moron? What about them, huh? Bunch of fuckin’ pussies don’t know jack shit about –“

I pulled his arm tighter. “Shut. Up.”

Merle stuttered to a stop, partially from the pain and partially because I’d used my Don’t-Fucking-Push-It voice.

With a sigh, I turned to look up at Rick. Some kind of animal instinct inside me was telling me he was the alpha of this group, that he’d be the one to plead sense to. The man was looking down at me with a mixture of agitated suspicion and curiosity.

“Look, I’ll keep him here and I’ll keep him quiet. Why don’t you guys sort this out amongst yourselves?” I suggested, jerking my head towards the car parked by the road a few metres away. “Us standing here, putting in our two cents every second word is just going to make it harder for everyone to discuss it calmly.”

Merle’s body jerked slightly, as if he were about to open his mouth to argue. Again, I pulled his arm. Besides the torrent of curses and insults growled at my expense, he kept his opinion on my suggestion to himself.

Rick watched me closely for a moment. His expression was hard, gaze searching, as if he were trying to understand the angle I was playing at. I met his eyes evenly, keeping my own expression neutral, waiting for him to finish surveying me.

It took a tense moment, but he finally let out a huff and nodded, turning and gesturing for everyone to make their way over to the car.

Daryl waited an extra moment; his gaze going from his brother’s pained face and back up to mine. It seemed to take him twice as long to make up his mind about whether or not he trusted me enough to keep his brother on a leash.

“Trust me,” I said. “I’ve got him.”

Merle hissed out another curse.

Daryl muttered a soft, “Asshole,” toward his brother before giving me an appreciative nod and trailing off after Rick.

Once they were far enough away, I let Merle’s arm go and he rose to his feet, whirling on me with a feral scowl.

“The hell was that for?” he hissed.

I glared up at him. “You were acting like a fucking dick. You know that, right?”

He opened his mouth to snap what was likely some long-winded insult, but I lifted my hand to cut him off. The group were back at the car now, far enough away to give the illusion of privacy. A regular human wouldn’t be able to make out the sounds of their voices from where Merle and I stood. But I wasn’t human – not even a little – and I could hear every word.

“They’re talking,” I whispered to Merle, bidding him to keep his mouth closed.

His eyes grew wide for a second before the realisation dawned on him. “You listenin’ with them big ole ears o’ yours?”

I gave him a side-eye and lifted one hand to protectively touch the tip of my pointed ear. “Leave my ears alone, asshole. And shut up. If you want to know what they’re saying, I need quiet.”

Merle let out a huffing breath through his nose before crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against a nearby tree.

“The Governor’s probably on the way to the prison right now,” I heard Daryl say, his voice barely above a whisper. “Merle and the girl, they know how he thinks. She was the guy’s damn right-hand. Besides. We could use the muscle.”

“I’m not having him at the prison,” Rick hissed in response. “Do you really want him sleeping in the same cellblock as Carol or Beth?”

“He ain’t a rapist,” Daryl snapped.

“Well, his buddy is,” interjected another voice. Glenn.

I cringed at the memory, feeling my skin begin to crawl.

“If it weren’t for that girl,” Glenn continued, voice low, “I don’t want to think about what would have happened.”

Maggie’s voice was soft as she spoke. “She stopped him.”

Rick went silent for a moment. “So you want them to stay?”

“We owe her,” Glenn responded evenly. “Not him.”

“We can’t take one and not the other,” Rick answered. “Not when they were both buddy-ing up with the Governor.”

“They ain’t buddies no more,” Daryl put in. “Not after what happened last night.”

“There is no way Merle’s gonna live at the prison without putting everyone at each other’s throats,” Rick cautiously explained. I could tell he was trying to deescalate Daryl’s rising temper. “And I don’t know anything about that girl except that she’s close with your brother, which doesn’t exactly make her look good.”

“Ouch,” I whispered to myself.

Merle’s attention peaked. “What? What they sayin’?”

“Shut up. Let me listen.”

He huffed once again, though thankfully remained silent as I closed my eyes to focus.

“So, what? You’re gonna cut Merle and the girl loose but bring the Last Samurai home with us?” Daryl let out a curt, humourless laugh.

“She’s not coming back.” Rick’s voice was clear and concise. He’d made up his mind about that long ago and it showed in his stern tone.

“She’s not in a state to be on her own,” Glenn said softly.

“She did bring you guys to us,” Maggie tried to argue.

“And then ditched us,” Daryl snapped.

“At least let my dad stich her up,” she simply added, pleading but not too desperate.

“She’s too unpredictable,” Rick answered.

“That’s right,” Daryl huffed. “We don’t know who she is, but Merle? Merle’s blood.”

“No,” Rick sighed. “Merle’s your blood. My blood, my family, is standing right here and waiting for us back at the prison. And you’re part of that family.”

“But he’s not,” Daryl guessed. His voice sounded close to breaking, as if he were growing desperate to make them understand.

“He’s not.”

There was a stretch of silence before I heard the sounds of boots upon the asphalt and Daryl’s gruff voice. “Man, ya’ll don’t know. Fine. We’ll fend for ourselves.”

The sound of a car trunk opening made me open my eyes and I looked up the slight hill, up to where they were still gathered on the road. Merle did the same.

“The hell’s –“

“Shut up,” I hissed for the third goddamn time, watching and listening as Daryl pulled a backpack from the trunk of the silver car.

Oh, no. Don’t do it.

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Rick tried to explain, but Daryl cut him off, slinging the backpack over his shoulder.

“No him, no me.”

“Daryl,” Rick sighed. “You don’t have to do that.”

No, he didn’t. And he shouldn’t. I’d barely known these people for more than a handful of hours, but I could tell they cared about that man more than he’d likely been cared for ever before. It wasn’t right, pulling him away from them like this. I wanted to yell at Merle to say something, to tell his brother to stay behind, though I knew that would have been pointless. Merle did what best suited Merle and no amount of scathing glares or threats of violence would ever change that.

“It was always me and Merle before this,” Daryl stated simply.

A simple, desperate, “Don’t,” escaped Rick in a harsh breath.

I frowned as Merle pushed himself off the tree and stood by my side, watching the unfolding situation with barely restrained glee.

“What’re they sayin’?”

“Daryl’s leaving,” I answered, making sure my tone suggested my disagreement with the idea.

Merle glanced down at me with a grin. “For real?”

“That isn’t a good thing.”

“The hell it ain’t! That’s my baby bro!”

I turned and smacked him hard on the shoulder, forgetting for a moment that my hands were bound together. My opposite hand almost smacked me in the face as it was pulled along, which made Merle bark out a laugh and effectively ruined my violent attempt to get him to see sense.

“Come on, bro!” Merle called out to Daryl just as Rick called out his name.

Daryl ignored the sheriff, stepping off the edge of the asphalt and into the forest. He kept walking, shoulders hunched as the others called out to him, all but begging him not to go. I bit my lower lip, watching Rick staring at Daryl’s back as he got walked further and further into the trees. As soon as he was in reach, Merle clapped an arm around his shoulder and barked out a triumphant laugh.

“That’s my boy,” he cheered.

Daryl kept his head down for a few more steps before looking up, his gaze catching mine for a fraction of a second. That was all the time I needed to see the damage his decision had caused within him. It had almost killed him to tear himself away from Rick and the others, I could see it.

He looked away before I could give him a reassuring, somewhat sad smile, and allowed himself to be led away by Merle.

“Comin’, sweetheart?” the older Dixon called over his shoulder as they began to make their way deeper into the forest.

I spared one glance up towards Rick and the others, who were still standing by the edge of the asphalt, watching Daryl disappearing into the trees. Rick’s eyes met mine, crystalline blue and rimmed in red. I gave him an apologetic smile before turning to follow Merle into the forest.

####

“There ain’t nothing out here but mosquitos and ants.”

Daryl adjusted his hold on the crossbow as he twisted partially around to look at Merle. I trailed behind, trying to keep the jangling chains clasped in my palms in order to avoid the deafening sound. It wasn’t exactly working.

“Patience, little brother,” Merle mused. “Sooner or later, a squirrel is bound to scurry across your path.”

“Never seen a squirrel in person,” I remarked without thinking.

Both Merle and Daryl stopped and turned to look at me.

I brought myself to a halt and returned their shocked gazes with a cocked brow. “What?”

“How long you lived here?” Merle asked.

“Couple of years,” I answered.

“And you ain’t never –“

“Not once,” I interrupted. “Seen a possum. Seen a raccoon. Never seen a squirrel.”

“Well, fuck me sideways and call me Eileen.” Merle laughed. “We gon’ find ourselves a furry little friend for ya.”

I snorted with a shake of my head before lifting my bound hands up to eye level. “You really think one’s gonna come anywhere near this racket?” I asked, shaking the chains for emphasis. I was just glad I’d worn my leather jacket that night, which had so far served as a barrier between my skin and the metal.

Daryl cringed at the sound.

“Fair point,” Merle agreed.

A slow grin began to form on my face. “You know… If you were any kind of gentleman, Merle, my dear…” I had to bite back a laugh as I looked him square in the eye and said, “You’d give me a hand getting these off.”

It took a second before the joke actually registered, but I could tell the moment it did. His slightly confused expression suddenly smoothed out into pure unamusement whilst my resolve to hold back the laugher bubbling in the base of my throat began to crack.

When my gaze slid across to Daryl, at the slightest of twitches pulling at the corner of his mouth, I lost it.

Merle grumbled out a, “I hate you,” before turning heel and continuing through the forest.

“Ah,” I breathed, sobering slowly. “Never gets old.”

After flashing Daryl a wide grin from which he quickly averted his gaze, I began to trudge after Merle, holding my chained hands to my chest as I walked in order to avoid the incessant jingling.

Daryl followed behind, slinging his crossbow back over his shoulder. “We’d have better luck going through one of them houses we passed on the turnoff?” he yelled over me to his brother.

Merle glanced over his shoulder at him with a hoarse laugh. “Is that what your new friends taught you? Hmm? How to loot for booty?”

“We’ve been at it for hours,” Daryl argued. “Why don’t we find a stream, look for some fish?”

Merle snorted. “I think you’re just tryin’ to get lead me back to the road, man. Get me over to that prison.”

The distant, tell-tale sound of nearby biters began to filter through the air, drifting from somewhere to our north-east. I said nothing, as neither man had noticed the sound as of yet, and it was far enough away not to be of much concern.

“They got shelter,” Daryl pointed out, using a nearby tree trunk to support himself as he climbed over a fallen branch. “Food. A pot to piss in.”

“I’d be inclined to agree with you,” I put in, turning partially to face him. “If it weren’t for the fact your sheriff friend would just as soon shoot your brother in the face than shake his hand.”

“I heard that!” Merle growled from a few feet in front of us.

I lifted my hands, biting back a grin. “That one was unintentional, I swear.”

He just scoffed something that sounded a lot like the word “bitch” before continuing on.

Daryl moved past me, stepping through the dense forest floor without barely stepping on a crunching leaf let alone a stray stick. His footfalls were almost naturally silent, something which I found myself admiring. I knew he and Merle had learnt to hunt at a young age, but even Merle made a misstep more often than not. Daryl moved almost flawlessly through the woods. He could have been one of my kind, it seemed to come so easily for him.

“Look, it might not be that bad an idea!” he called to his brother.

“For you, maybe,” Merle responded. “But Jacques is right. Ain’t gonna be no damn party for me.”

“Everyone will get used to each other.”

I could tell Daryl was growing almost desperate. He had almost instantly regretted his decision to join his brother, moved more by the idea of family than the reality of what he had already had. My heart bled for the guy.

The sound of those biters was growing louder yet remained far enough that neither Dixon brother could hear them over the sounds of their own voices.

“They’re all dead,” Merle remarked, barely a shred of remorse in his voice.

“Merle,” I hissed. “You don’t know that.”

“You and I both know the Governor’s probably hosting a housewarming party where he’s gonna bury what’s left of Officer Friendly and the rest of ‘em,” Merle responded.

I didn’t know that. What I did know was that the Governor wouldn’t let what they had done just slide by. He’d retaliate. The only problem with that was now he no longer had me or Merle. We had always been an integral part of his planning and execution, but now? Half out of his mind, ruled by vengeance and ego? Even I didn’t know what he was capable of anymore.

Daryl, having decided he was done with this conversation, continued past where Merle had come to a stop, barely giving us a passing glance over his shoulder as he called out, “Let’s hook some damn fish.”

#####

“Smells to me like Sawhatchee Creek.”

“We didn’t go far enough west. There’s a river down there. Gotta be the Yellow Jacket.”

“You have a stroke, boy?” Merle coughed a laugh. “We ain’t never even come close to Yellow Jacket.”

My God. Did they ever stop bickering?

Daryl pulled the strap of his crossbow tight across his broad chest as he looked down the slight hill at his brother. “We didn’t go west.”

He was right about that. The non-stop gurgling moans coming from the biters in the distance had remained at a somewhat constant volume, drifting further from the east now than it had been from the north. We’d remained on a near straight line since we’d committed to the plan of catching some fish. A plan I desperately wished would hurry up and come to fruition. I was growing irritable with hunger at this point.

“Just a little bit south,” Daryl continued, waving a hand to the east. “That’s what I think.”

“You know what I think?” Merle asked, lifting up his metallic arm. “I may have lost a hand, but you lost your sense of direction.”

“And maybe you’ve both lost the one brain cell you shared between you,” I added in with a grin.

They both looked at me with almost matching blank expressions.

“Yeah,” Daryl murmured. “We’ll see.” And with that, he turned back toward the direction he’d been heading. Towards the sound of biters in the distance.

I begrudgingly began to follow with Merle close on my heals.

“You want a bet, little brother?”

I opened my mouth to put in my own bet, siding with Daryl as I could already hear the sounds of rushing water nearby, but the younger Dixon brother beat me to it.

“I don’t wanna bet nothin’,” Daryl responded. He had begun marching faster, his footfalls no longer falling silently through the underbrush. “It’s just a body of water. Why’s everything gotta be a damn competition with you?”

I sensed the drop seconds before Daryl’s foot went over the edge. As fast as I could move, I leapt across the empty space between us and latched onto his upper arm with both hands. Anchored by my grip, he managed to regain his footing, balancing at the edge of a sharp drop off. The rapid water of the river below struck the sharp rocks at the edge of the bank with enough force that I felt a droplet hit the exposed skin of my cheek.

Daryl’s gaze fixed upon those rocks for a moment as he let out a shaky breath before turning to look at me. The moment he realised how close we stood, he swallowed and cleared his throat, muttering a “thank you” before stepping away.

Merle let out a whistle. “Nice catch, darlin’.”

I gave him a side-long look, cocking a brow and opening my mouth to make what would have been a rather unfriendly comment when a new sound suddenly filtered through the biter’s moans. My head jerked to the side, to the east and I strained my ears, trying to discern the reality of what I had originally thought the sound had been.

Merle knew the look, knew what it meant when I went suddenly still and silent. He, for the first time in hours, finally kept his mouth shut.

There it was again. The sound. Piercing through the air, cutting through me like a knife.

“Do you hear that?” I asked, despite knowing full well they likely did not. It was almost as if the shock of hearing such a sound in the middle of nowhere had rendered me moronic.

Merle snorted. “You know we don’t. What is it?”

I let out a long breath before turning partially to look at him, my brows furrowed in a deep frown. “It’s a baby.”

“What?” Daryl asked. “The hell you talkin’ about?”

I didn’t answer. My feet began moving before I could stop them, pulling me toward the sound of cries, through the forest. Merle spat out a curse before following, grabbing his brother and dragging him along. Before long, we’d followed the riverbank far enough that the bridge had come into view.

Merle called out for me to stop. “What the hell you doin’, Jacques?”

I slowed to a halt and turned to him, gesturing towards the bridge. “Baby.”

“Oh, come on,” he coughed. “Why don’t you piss in my ear and tell me it’s raining, too?”

“Listen, you prick,” I snapped. The sound was loud enough now that their ears should be able to pick it up.

Merle just stared at me and shook his head. “That there? That’s the sound of a couple of coons making love, sweet love.”

I looked him dead in the eye as I said, “One of these days I might just take off that other hand to gag you with it.”

“I hear it,” Daryl breathed suddenly, taking a step forwards and away from his menace of a brother. “It’s a damn baby.”

The poor guy sounded almost as confused as he was shocked, his bright, narrow eyes falling to me with what I could only assume was suspicion. Like I’d somehow planted the baby or knew it would be there.

His brother had reacted much the same way when I’d first let on that my ears were much sharper than the average human. At one point, I remember him actually calling me a witch. A fucking witch.

Southerners.

I didn’t wait for the flow of questions, nor did I just stand there beneath his suspicious glare. Without another moment of pause, I took off towards the nearby road. Daryl followed behind me with little hesitation. Neither of us waited for Merle.

We arrived at the edge of the forest where the trees gave way to road and burst out into the open. To our right, the asphalt gave way to the cracked concrete foundation of the bridge, upon which sat a red car, surrounded by biters. There was a man standing atop the roof, swinging a rusted machete in a fevered rhythm, trying to clear the surrounding area of biters.

I could hear the baby crying from inside the car, now met with the sounds of a woman’s frightened sobs.

Both Daryl and I looked at one another, no doubt thinking the same thing. We began to run towards the car just as Merle broke through the tree line behind us with an irritated gruff.

“Oh, come on!”

We ignored him.

The man atop the car spotted us coming as Daryl pulled his crossbow from his shoulder and took a shot at the biter closest to the man’s overhanging boot. It dropped instantly, the arrow piercing through its skull as easy as a knife through butter.

It didn’t occur to me until I was close enough to reach the biters that I did not in fact have a weapon. I was going to have to go all old school on this one.

Daryl began reloading his crossbow, pausing mid-approach and enabling me to overtake him. Without slowing, I charged forwards and leapt, planting a solid fly-kick into the closest biter’s ugly, rotting face. It careened backwards, knocking two of its pals down as it toppled. I slammed my booted foot down on its face, crushing its weakened skull beneath my sole. Another biter dropped beside me, curtesy of Daryl’s arrow.

The man above us was calling for help in both Spanish and English.

As I slammed my foot down on one of the other fallen biters, I felt Merle blow past me. He marched through the biters, thrusting the pointed end of his haphazardly designed metal hand through two of their heads before leaning down to inspect the inside of the car.

A biter behind me was getting uncomfortably close, forcing me to take my eye off Merle for a fraction of a second to dodge the rotting, outstretched hands. I stepped behind the undead creature and threw my hands over its head, catching its throat with the chain. Pulling the biter back, I waited until I felt the pressure of cold concrete on my back before turning. I yanked my chain to the side and watched as the biter tumbled over the crumbling railing of the bridge and into the rapid waters below.

At this point, I could hear a commotion much different than that of an ordinary biter attack and turned back to see Merle making a nuisance of himself by the driver’s side door. The woman inside was screaming for him to get out, as was the man, who had now leapt down onto the concrete foundation of the bridge. He didn’t seem to feel confident enough to make a move on Merle, not with Daryl standing so close, a freshly notched arrow resting atop his crossbow, but he was yelling in both Spanish and English that he would kill him if he touched his wife.

Merle chuckled as he began rifling through their possessions. “That ain’t no way to say thank you,” he remarked.

The baby was absolutely screaming at this point. My heart tightened in my chest.

“Get away from my car!” the man yelled, the grip on his bloodied machete growing so tight his knuckles were turning white. “We don’t have anything!”

Again, Merle ignored the man. “Least you could do was give us an enchilada or something, huh? Easy does it, señorita. Everything’s gonna be fine.”

I took a step forwards, intent on stopping him, though I needn’t have bothered.

Moments before I could grab Merle by the strap of his dirty wifebeater, his brother turned his crossbow and pointed it at his exposed back.

“Get out of the car,” he growled.

Merle went still, turning his head slightly to the side. “I know you ain’t talking to me, brother.”

Daryl turned his gaze to the man standing by the car’s bonnet and jerked his head toward the driver’s side door. “Get in your car and get the hell out of here.”

Merle still hadn’t moved. I stepped forward and followed through on my plan to grab the moron by the strap of his shirt, yanking him backwards and away from the open door.

He yelled out a curse, swinging his arm to free himself from my grip. “The hell, woman?”

Daryl kept the crossbow pointed at his brother, though his gaze remained on the Hispanic man behind him. “Get in the car! Go, go! Move it!”

The man did as he was instructed, giving Merle a mighty fierce glare as he walked past him, climbing into the open driver’s side door and slamming it closed.

Neither of us spoke until the car had taken off down the road, after which Merle turned the full force of his anger onto his brother. “The shit you doing, pointing that thing at me?” he snapped, stepping forward and swatting the crossbow.

Daryl let it fall to his side. “They were scared, man.”

Merle snorted. “Rude it what they were. They owed us a token of gratitude.”

“They didn’t owe us shit, jackass,” I hissed, the same time Daryl remarked, “They didn’t owe us anything.”

Merle looked between us with wide, disbelieving eyes, gesturing at us with his good hand in frustration. “The hell is this, huh? You two helpin’ people out of the goodness of your hearts, now?” His bright gaze landed on me. “You? Little Miss McMurder, helping out the good people of Georgia?” An incredulous snort escaped him before he turned his attention back to his brother. “And you? Helpin’ people even though you might die? That something your pal Sheriff Rick teach you?”

“There was a baby!” Daryl yelled, throwing up his empty hand in exasperation.

“Oh, otherwise you would’a left ‘em to the biters, then?” Merle asked sarcastically, shaking his head before he pushed between us and began making his way back towards the line of trees.

Daryl didn’t move. His eyes remained fixed on his brother’s retreating form. “I went back for you, man.”

I turned and looked at him, brows raised. Merle had told me all about his last group, at least as much as he’d cared to, including how they had handcuffed him to a roof in the middle of downtown Atlanta with no key and a horde of biters in the stairwell. I’d been appalled when I’d first heard the story, though the longer I’d spent standing next to the man, the more I’d come to respect his previous group’s decision to leave him for dead. A little extreme, perhaps, but I certainly understood the temptation.

Merle stopped mid-step and turned to face us, his face contorted into a scowl.

“You weren’t there,” Daryl continued. “And I didn’t cut off you hand, neither. You did that, way before they locked you up on that roof.”

I glanced back over to Merle, watching his upper lip beginning to twitch in anger as he listened to his brother.

“You asked for it,” Daryl snapped, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction.

“You know what’s funny to me?” Merle asked, pursing his lips in that indignant way of his. “You and Sheriff Rick are like this now.” He held up his hand with his fore and middle finger twisted around one another. “Right?”

Daryl didn’t dignify that with an answer.

Merle’s gaze turned to me. “Hey, you up for a bet, sweetheart?”

I cocked a brow, remaining silent. This was a brother-to-brother fight and I didn’t want to get in the middle of it.

“Psh. ‘Course you do. You always do.” Merle looked back to Daryl with a grin. “I bet you a pretty penny my little bro here never told Officer Friendly that we was plannin’ to rob that camp blind. Did you?”

Daryl’s gaze dropped to his feet and I got the distinct feeling he had never, not even back then, been entirely okay with their original plan. “It didn’t happen,” he muttered.

“Yeah,” Merle scoffed. “It didn’t ‘cause I wasn’t there to help you.”

With that, he turned and walked back into the forest.

I looked towards Daryl, waiting a few moments after he’d begun to follow his brother before I trailed behind. It was to give them the illusion of privacy and they both probably knew it, but it my slight distance seemed to help enough that Daryl didn’t think twice about yelling out his next accusation.

“Like when we were kids, huh?” he called, marching through the underbrush after his brother, slinging his crossbow back over his shoulder. “Who left who then?”

Merle spun on the spot with fire in his eyes. “What? Huh? That why I lost my hand?”

Daryl stepped further forward, right into Merle’s face as he pointed at his brother and snarled, “You lost your hand ‘cause you’re a simpleminded piece of shit!”

“Yeah?” Merle asked before grabbing onto Daryl’s shirt.

The younger brother tried to pull away, but his foot slid down the slight incline, pulling him off balance. He slid down to his knees as Merle’s grip on his shirt caused a violet rip in the fabric to open up, exposing Daryl’s bare back.

The two men kind of froze in place. I felt my own feet come to a complete stop as I stared at the red scars that criss-crossed over his skin. My mouth parted slightly in shock before I gathered my sense enough to turn away, averting my gaze. I had known, at least in theory, that Merle’s father hadn’t exactly been a kind man. It took one to know one, I guess, but it hadn’t occurred to me until that moment that he and Daryl had shared the same upbringing. The same abuse.

“I – I, uh…” Merle began, letting go of Daryl’s shirt and taking a step back. “I didn’t know he was –“

“Yeah,” Daryl snapped, trying to readjust his backpack and crossbow to cover the exposed skin of his back. “He did. He did the same to you. It’s why you left first.”

Slowly, the younger Dixon got to his feet, his eyes glancing over to me as if he were embarrassed I’d seen him in such a state. I met his gaze evenly for a brief second, making sure to keep my expression neutral. The last thing he needed was to think I felt sorry for him. I didn’t, not really. It was more a feeling of understanding, of a deeply seeded sense of anger that originated from my own dark memories. He looked away quickly.

“I had too, man,” Merle tried to explain, his miserable expression almost pleading. “I would’a killed him otherwise.”

I tensed a little, feeling a slight sting from his words. He left his baby brother alone with a man who beat on him just so he wouldn’t end up doing what I had.

Daryl adjusted the strap of his backpack and, without turning around to look at his brother, began walking.

Merle remained standing, watching his brother for a moment before yelling, “Where you goin’?”

“Back where I belong,” Daryl called over his shoulder.

Merle looked to me, confused as to what to do next. I merely shrugged and started following behind his younger brother.

“I can’t go with you,” he yelled in a hoarse voice. “I tried to kill the black bitch. Damn near killed the Chinese kid.”

Daryl didn’t look back. “He’s Korean.”

“Whatever!” Merle began to stumble along behind us, reaching out to steady himself on a nearby low-hanging branch. “Doesn’t matter, man. I can’t go with you, which means you can’t either, Jacques.”

I glanced at him over my shoulder. “Says who?”

He opened his mouth to argue but just ended up screaming gibberish in frustration, looking to the sky and throwing up his hands in defeat.

Daryl continued walking. “You know,” he said over his shoulder. “I might be the one walking away, but you’re the one that’s leaving. Again.”

Damn. I didn’t look back to see how the older Dixon had reacted to that. I didn’t need to. The sound of his dragging footsteps trailing along behind us was answer enough.

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scumfuckus · 6 years

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my ear piercings have healed so i can change em but my mum got me a couple pairs for my birthday and i gotta make use out of at least one of them so as not to hurt her feelings. its a choice between these little... infinity symbol ones which i cannot even fathom wearing ever in my life (theyre so ugly i love my mum but she has bad taste) and some ones with... little deadpool logos on.

so im wearing the deadpool ones. coincidentally im also wearing my tshirt w the rick & morty reference on it, and i bought fight club and american psycho (the books) today so. i'm about to go and miss the point completely and falsely idolize tyler durden. if i only had a beard i would fill it with sriracha

#i really liked deadpool when i was like 13 ok

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lupienne · 6 years

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Sometimes You Just Need A...

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

Story under the pic/cut.

Sometimes You Just Need A... by Lupienne

"Is this a good idea?"

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

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

"But alone?"

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

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

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

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

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

Don't. She's gone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A stack of dirty pots and pans.

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

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

A messy stack of firewood and twigs.

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

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

The smell wasn't exactly great either.

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

Rick cringed at the name.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Uh-huh."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rotting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rick gripped his cane hard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, for fuck's -

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

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

Starting to get an erection -

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And how was your first time with me?"

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

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

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

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

"They're called daisies."

"Yeah, those things."

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

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

Rick shuddered. "No fucking way."

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

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

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

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

"I guess not."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe two weeks.

Maybe one at the most.

#negan #comicnegan>#comic Rick #Regan #platonic Regan #unlikely happenings #fluffy shit #widowers unite #lups writing

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crystallinecrimsonmoth · 3 years

Text

Future Serial Killer [ongoing]

Chapter 37

‘I don’t know why people used to complain about their kids crying so much. Jazz hasn’t said a word for a week.’ Negan shrugged where they stood in line for food, Cara shrugging in response to his words too.

The line moved up one and they both stepped closer to where Denise was serving up everyone’s breakfast. Jasmine was settled in Cara’s arms with her head resting on the woman’s shoulder. She wasn’t asleep but she looked close to it.

‘I mean she’s three years old with guardians that give her anything she wants and a comfortable crib to sleep in. I don’t think she has much to cry about, and she obviously agrees.’ Cara hummed, running a hand over the toddler’s hair, and kissing her forehead as she continued to doze off.

‘She sleeps really well too. Falling asleep in the main hall is difficult even if you’re flat out exhausted.’

Negan sighed with a nod, petting Jasmine’s head gently before running a hand through his own hair, picking up the filled water bottle with his name etched on it as Cara did the same. Daniel, already standing beside them, took both his own and Carl’s, knowing Negan would need at least one hand to carry their food upstairs to his young husband.

‘Carl’s still asleep then?’ Denise asked the King as the friend group finally reached her position at the end of the line.

The older man nodded while their food was served up on plates then set on a tray for Negan to carry upstairs.

Denise shook her head with a sigh, adding Jasmine’s formula bottle to the tray.

‘Tell that boy he needs to get up earlier or I’ll drag him out of that bed myself.’ She warned, smiling kindly to Jasmine when she lifted her head to look at the woman.

‘Good morning, flower. Your Daddy’s such a lazy sausage, isn’t he?’

Jasmine didn’t understand her words, not yet anyway, but she copied her smile, quickly distracted by Cara offering the formula bottle to the hungry toddler. She latched onto it, clearly quite hungry, and stared at her aunt as if she were god for feeding her.

‘Thanks for the breakfast, Dee. I’ll give him your warning and see if it works.’

‘Oh, speak of the devil and he shall appear.’ Cara chuckled when the teen they’d been talking about shuffled over to them, rubbing his eye to get the sleep out of it.

Carl smiled with a tired expression at her comment, reaching for Jasmine once he appeared more awake.

‘Give me my baby.’

Cara shook her head, moving her arms so Jasmine was further away from the young man. The toddler giggled around her bottle at the movement, looking at her aunt with bright eyes who looked back at Carl.

‘She’s spending time with her Auntie Cara right now, Daddy can wait.’ She argued, kissing the girl’s forehead, and bouncing her up and down.

Carl rolled his eye at her response, turning to Daniel instead for his water bottle and taking a sip from it. He eyed the bottle suspiciously, tasting something unfamiliar and looking to Denise for confirmation of its safety.

The old woman shook her head, letting out a sigh of exasperation and moving to serve the next person in the line.

‘It’s cucumber, not poison, you scaredy cat. Be a bit more adventurous.’

‘I’m pretty sure that’s what the scientists said before they released the walker virus.’ Cara laughed while wandering off towards the tables with Jasmine still sitting comfortably in her arms.

‘At least we can make jokes about it now.’ Negan rolled his eyes at her comment, sticking his tongue out at Jasmine to make her giggle while Cara settled her in a highchair.

The toddler continued to drink her breakfast formula quite happily, kicking her legs and reaching out for Carl when both her new guardians approached the table too.

Carl stopped by her highchair, taking the seat beside it, and cupping his daughter’s cheeks, squishing them gently between his thumbs.

‘You’re the most beautiful girl, yes you are.’ He reassured her with a coo, making Negan smile at their interaction.

‘You’re going to make her into a spoiled brat, Carl.’ Daniel signed, smiling at the scene in front of him and sitting down beside Cara, nudging her arm which she returned, stealing his bottle as payback and wrestling with him playfully for a moment before settling down.

Once they were done playfighting, the group actually started to get on with eating their breakfast, hungrily shoveling everything down their respective throats in preparation for the day. Ada was still missing after a while, so Carl turned to Daniel from where he was playing peek-a-boo with Jasmine, tilting his head.

‘Where’s Ada? I thought Harriet was at the Mercury outpost today so she would have been spending more time with us.’ He frowned, watching as Daniel lifted his hands to speak and then yelping when something hit him on the back of the head, causing a dull pain to go through his skull.

Gasping, affronted at the attack on his head, he turned to argue with whatever Saviour had hit him, in a fighting mood already.

‘What the hell do you- Ada, you bitch.’ He groaned when he saw his friend picking up the apple that she’d thrown at him, glowering at her when she tapped his forehead with her finger.

‘Sorry, Your Majesty.’ She teased, sitting down in the seat beside Daniel and taking a bite of the fruit once she had rubbed it clean on her shirt.

Carl just huffed, looking offended when Jasmine giggled at his reaction. He moved his chair closer to hers, poking the little girl’s cheek and grinning when she giggled again and squirmed at the touch.

‘Are you laughing at me being hit with an apple? How mean to me you are, little flower.’ He cooed, kissing her cheek before letting her go back to the bottle.

‘My niece has a sense of humour.’ Cara grinned as she took a bite of bacon, poking Jasmine’s small nose and glancing at Negan when he spoke.

‘She’s taking after me already, laughing at other people’s pain. She’ll make a good leader one day.’ He chuckled, draping his arm across the back of Carl’s chair while the teen ate his food.

Everyone sat in comfortable silence while they finished their meals, Cara eventually lifting Jasmine from her highchair and sitting her on her lap for a cuddle once she had finished her food.

The Saviours slowly finished their meals around them and filed out of the main hall to do their respective jobs, leaving only the table of leaders to their breakfast. Carl could see Oliver and Brie on the other side of the hall getting ready for the supply run, slipping their blades into the pockets all along their body and their pistols into their holsters. Brie had a shotgun strapped to her back – she was better with a bigger weapon.

The teen watched them for a moment, enjoying the ease with which they prepared to go into the world. It made him feel like their chances of survival were better, with people like them running the security and supply run squads.

Turning to Negan, he nudged his arm, smiling when the older man automatically looked back at him to see what was wrong, swallowing the scrambled eggs in his mouth.

‘Rabbit?’

Carl hummed at the nickname, wiping the man’s mouth of crumbs so they didn’t stick in his beard.

‘Can we go on the supply run to Hilltop today? I want to introduce Jasmine to Daryl and Michonne.’ He requested softly, glancing over to where Cara was tickling the toddler to make her giggle.

Looking to Negan again, he smiled brightly when he nodded.

‘You can bring her, but only if I’m there to keep Ricky away. I don’t trust him not to hurt her with how much he hates me.’ The man pointed out, causing Carl to nod.

‘I know what you mean, though I don’t think Michonne would like it if he hurt her. She’ll like Daryl, he’s a bit like you so that’ll put her at ease.’ He hummed, laughing at the offended expression on his husband’s face.

‘I am nothing like Daryl.’

‘You so are.’

∞

‘Cara, she’s fine! She’s got Mr. Fox, a warm coat, boots on and both of her capable parents to look after her.’ Negan argued as Cara continued to fuss over whether Jasmine was ready for a trip outside of the wall.

The woman made sure her coat was fully zipped up and that Negan had a hat for her in case it got colder before she finally stopped stressing, planting one more long kiss on her niece’s forehead before stepping back to let the two men get into the truck.

Carl couldn’t help but laugh at how frustrated Cara seemed over even a small trip out, but in the back of his mind he knew this trip was a potentially dangerous one. Neither of them ever knew how Rick was going to react to their appearance at the gate, it was always a lottery with the man, but Carl tried to remain hopeful.

Getting into the driver’s seat and letting Negan sit with Jasmine on the passenger side, he rolled his eyes when Cara once again tried to argue the safety of taking Jasmine with them to the settlement.

‘What if you crash the truck? It isn’t safe to have a child in a vehicle with no back seat, Negan!’

‘Carl isn’t going to crash the truck, Cara. If he thought he was, he wouldn’t be taking the risk. As long as I’m holding Jazz, she’ll be fine.’ He responded, smiling when Jasmine tugged at his black hair that was starting to grow longer at the back.

Cara huffed from outside the truck when the older man finally shut the door, nodding reluctantly.

‘Fine. Just make sure that psycho doesn’t get his hands on her.’ She sighed, waving to Allison and Jerry to open the gates for the truck.

Carl drove through the conservative gap slowly, glad for the fact that there were no walkers milling around the fence today, and started the journey to Hilltop.

It took them a good few hours to get there as usual and by the time they did, both Negan and Jasmine were fast asleep beside the teen, the toddler resting on her holder’s chest like a pillow and snoring softly.

As he approached the Hilltop gates, Carl groaned, knowing he’d have to wake Negan and subsequently Jasmine now.

‘Neeg, we’re at Hilltop.’ He told him softly, nudging the man’s shoulder and smiling when he woke, stirring Jasmine too.

The little girl blinked tiredly as she woke up, rubbing her eyes with her small hands and looking up at them.

‘Hey, sweetheart.’ Negan smiled at her, petting her cheek before looking out at the Hilltop gates.

‘Whoopee, can’t say I’ve missed this place.’ He drawled, giving a salute to the people on the fence lookouts who glared down at their truck.

‘Don’t encourage the hatred, Negan, we need to be nice today to keep her safe.’ Carl insisted, petting Jasmine’s cheek, and nodding to Maggie when he saw her opening the gates for them.

He hopped out of the truck with ease, hugging her tight and then going around to the passenger’s side to get his daughter from Negan.

‘A friendly face holding her will be better for introductions.’ He told the man softly, taking Jasmine into his arms and kissing her nose.

Negan scoffed.

‘I am friendly.’

‘Not to them.’ Carl laughed, carrying the toddler over to meet Maggie whose eyes brightened at the sight of her.

‘Aren’t you just the most beautiful little thing I have ever seen? Hi!’ The woman took her gently from the teen and hugged her close, sighing.

‘She’s so cute. Was she abandoned somewhere?’ She asked Carl curiously who shrugged.

‘Something like that. Where’s Daryl? I wanted Jazz to meet her uncle while we collect the supply share.’ He smiled, poking Jasmine’s cheek who nuzzled into Maggie like she did with Cara back at the Sanctuary.

Maggie rubbed the back of her neck, looking awkward.

‘That’s a complicated story.’

‘Sure looks complicated to me. Looks like you took a leaf out of our gay book, huh, Ricky?!’ Negan called out loudly, causing Carl to turn his head and look in the direction he was shouting.

As he did, he was met with the sight of Daryl and his dad pressed together on the porch steps of the house Rick and Michonne occupied, or had done last time Carl checked, kissing and holding onto each other like Negan and Carl kissed all the time.

Negan’s voice clearly spooked them as they pulled away from each other’s mouths, looking over to the Saviours with red lips swollen from kissing.

Well, this was new.

#cegan #future serial killer #chapter 37 #carl/negan #carl x negan #negan x carl

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xneganslucillex · 7 years

Text

TWD Comic-Con Trailer

That trailer has me all the way messed up, let me tell you why. 1. No Richonne at all, wtf (that's what I was expecting but damn 2. It looks like Morgan is going back to his psycho ways (or maybe he was just showing Jesus how the staff works) 3. Shiva is definitely going to die (RIP 🐯) 4. Too much Daryl (like always) 5. Negan is still breathing (why?) 6. Maggie's stomach is still flat 7. Was that Rick in the dark with his boxers on? (What did they do to my baby) 8. Michonne didn't speak and was barely in it (the usual disrespect😒) 9. What is he doing to Gabriel (don't play with him) 10. Tara is not sharing her Twizzlers (probably stale af) 11. That ending was DEAD WRONG and they know that. How am I supposed to sleep now with all these questions!!? He has a mini Santa beard. His hair is cut and gray. He has a cane. He's in a hospital. Where is his family? Wtf is going on?? I need to hear y'all opinions

#twd season 8 #the walking dead #comicon #sdcc2017 #where's Richonne #end the disrespect #ricki grimes #michonne #carl grimes #Ezekiel #carol peletier #Negan #daryl dixon

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weirdpaul · 7 years

Text

Every Band I’ve Ever Seen Live!

Abdominal Snowmen

Abysme

Action Camp

The Afghan Whigs

Alabaster Box

Alan Astor

Alaska

Algebra Suicide

Align Alike

Allegheny Rhythm Rangers

Allies

Alpha Control Group

Alzo Boszormenyi

AM/FM

America Hearts

Amoeba Knievel

Anita Fix

Annie and the Bombers

An Offhand Way

The Anti-Psychotics

The Antiques

The Antiquities

The Aquabats

Assassinate Caesar!

Atom and His Package

Atomic Mosquitos

ATS

Auk Theater

Automatic Matty P

Aydin

Baby Bird

Baby Shakes

Bad Fathers

Bang Bang Lulu

BaggyPantsRich

Bald Mountain Band

The Bassturd

Bastard Bearded Irishmen

The Bastards of Fate

Bastro

Bat Zuppel

The Beagle Brothers

Beard Science

Bearsuit

Beasters

Beat Happening

The Bedspins

Ben Blanchard

Bennett-Blanchard

The Benquick

Big Mouth Strikes Again Billy Castle

Billy Catfish

The Billy Nayer Show

Birdcloud

Birthday Suits

The Blandinas

Blast Off 3.0

The Bloated Sluts

Bloodbaby

Bloodless Cooties

Bloody Incisors

The Bloody Seamen

Blue Chair

Blue Oyster Cult

Blue Skies Collapse

Blunderbuss

Bob Log III

Bobby Conn

James Bogacz

Bomb Banks

Boom River

Bootsy Collins

Bottomless Pit

Bowhunter

Bradford Reed and the Amazing Pencilina

Brain Handle

Brass Chariot

Brass Panda

Braz Cubas

Brewer's Row

Broke Boland & the Dirty Pickles

Brown Angel

BS2000

Buddy Nutt

The Bumps

The Burndowns

Burning Cacti

Burnout War Cry

Butter Kings

Butthole Lipstick

The Buzzcocks

C-Money and Karl Kash

Cactus Wheelhouse

Camp PP

Canasta

Candy Machine Guns

Canned Hamm

Captain Catfeesh

Casino Bulldogs

Casy Stelitano

Catnip Coma

The Causey Way

Caustic Christ

The Ceiling Stares

Celebration

Centipede E'est

Cex

Channel Scorpion News

Charlie Anteater

Charlie Slick

The Cheats

Chestnut Station

Chet Vincent

Child Bite

Children of October

Choke City

Chris Leo

Chrome Moses

Churchbuilder

Chux Beta

City Dwelling Nature Seekers

The City Steps

The Claymores

The Clearing

Cloaca

Clownvis Presley

Cobalt Black

The Cocktails

The Code

Colin and the Shots

Colombian Express

Combustible Three

Concrete Elite

CooCoo Rockin' Time

The Copyrights

Corpus Christi

Cougars

Crank Radio

Creta Bourzia

Crisis in America

The Crow Flies

Crucial Unit

Crunk Witch

Cryptorchid Chipmunk

Curses and Kisses

Daily Grind

Daiquiri

Daniel Johnston

Danielson

Dark Lingo

Darren Keen

Dave Bernabo

David Liebe Hart

Dead City Dealers

Dean Cercone

Death of Samantha

Decaffeinated Grapefruit

Decision Way All-Stars

The Degenerettes

Demander

Deral Fenderson

Derek Deprator Band

Derica

Dethlehem

Developer

The Devil Dogs

The Devil is Electric

The Devil's Jukebox

Devin Russian

Devo

Die Kruezen

Dirtbag Diary

The Dirty Charms

Dirty Fences

Dirty Sunshine

Dirty Weekend

Discuss

Disrobe

Divine Seven

Divorce

Do Crimes

Don Caballero

Don Capicola

Dollar Shots

Donora

Doog

Dookie Houser Emcee

The Douglass Brothers

Down By Law

Downside

The Dozal Brothers

DQE

Drink Tax

The Dripp Brothers

Drug Dealer

Duckmandu

Duke of Uke

The Dumplings

Duo!

Dwarf Fortress

Ear to Ear

Earlimart

Earls of Industry

Ec8tor

Echolalia

Edie Sedgewick

Ed's Redeeming Qualities

Eggs

8 Cylinder

Eighty Eight Magnum

'85 Flood

El Boxeo

El Grosso

Electric Grandmother

The Elemental

Elephant Bones

Elf Power

Eli “Paperboy” Reed

Elliott Sussman

Elsinore

Ember Schrag

The Emergency

Emerson Jay

Emily Jo Fabiszewski

Endless Mike and the Beagle Club

Eoley Mullulay

Erectus Monotone

Eric and the Electric MP3 Player

Erika Carey & the Calamities

The Eruptions

Eskimo '88

Estelle

Eugene Chadbourne/Jimmy Carl Black

Euphonic Brew

Everyone Everywhere

Evolution Control Committee

Ezra Lbs

Face Down in Shit

Falon

Fancytramp

Fangs of the Panda Fat White Family

Fate of Icarus

Jerry Fels and the Jerry Fels

Fezzwig

The Fife and Forth

The Fingers

Fire & Sex

The Fireworks

First Into Space

First Jason

First Person Singular

The Fizzies

Flaming Lips

The Fletch-heads

Flotation Device

Flotilla Way

Folk Implosion

The Forbidden Five

Forgotten Nobody

Four Dead Flowers

The Four Roses

Four Seasons Boys

Frank Barone

French Toast

Fry Jones

Gadgits

The Garden

The Garment District

Gary Musisko

Gary Twoman

Gentleman Auction House

George Willard

German Shepherd Ghost Road

Gil Mantera's Party Dream

Girl Talk

Girl Trouble

Glad Girls

Go Pills

Go Pillx

The Goblins

The Goonies

Goonland

The Goops

The Gothees

Grand Buffet

Grand Piano

Granola Explosion

Grant Valdes

Gravel

The Graveyard Rockers

Great Ants

Greg Cislon

Groundwater Mafia

The Grow Ops

Grumpy

Guided By Voices

Guru Guru

Guyliners

Half Japanese

Happy Flowers

Har Mar Superstar

HARM

Hard Money

Harry and the Potters

Heaven & Hell

Heavy Cream

The Hecklers

Height

The Heiz

Helmet

Hell Yeah the Hellcats

The Helper T-Cells

The Heretics

The Hidden Twin

The Hi-Frequencies

The Hillbilly Varmints

The Hips

The Hodag

Hogwind

The Homostupids

The Hope Harveys

Hot Dog Forest

Hot Mess

Hotness

Houdini's Psychic Theater

House of Assassins

Household Stories

Hovland

Howard Jones

HTML

The Human Brains

Hungry Bill

Hurra Torpedo

I am the Lost Sea

I Speak Tree

Ian Semasko

Ice Capades

Icon Gallery

In the Wake of Giants The Independents

Instead of Sleeping

International Espionage

The Invisible Nothings

Irene Moon

Ivenfaint

J. Marinelli

Jack in Irons

Jack Medicine

Jack Sabbith

Jackson

Jad Fair

Jake and the Jakeman

Jam Messengers

Jana Bates

Jandek

Jane's Addiction

The Jasons

The Jealous Zealots

Jefferson Golfcart

Jericho Theory

The Jim Dandies

Jody Perigo & Laura Totten

Joe Jack Talcum

Joe Landes

Joey Molinaro

Johnny and the Razorblades

Johnny Locomotive & the Engineers

The Johnsons

Jonathan Hape

Jonathan Richman

Jonny Cohen

Joybox

JPS Brown

Judas Priest

The Juicy Girls

Juno Vega

Jupiter's Girlfriend

K-Hun

Kafka Romance Dissolver

Kalon

Karl Hendricks

Kazimier

Kevin Finn

Khaled

Kick Old Man

Kick the Can

Kill Or Be Killed

Kind of Like Spitting

King Karcass

King Kong

King Missile

kingdom Of Not

Kisswhistle

Kitty Pryde and the Shadowcats

Koala-T

Kracfive AllStars

The Kyle Sowashes

The Lady and the Monsters

Landing Strip

Landmonster!

Laura Kahl

Lavacola

Le Cachot

The Left Turns

Leonard Cohen Ensemble One

Leo's Operation

Les Georges Leningrad

The Lesser Apes

Let Them Eat Cake

Libre Duo

Life in Bed

The Limbs

Living Praise Choir

Liz and the Bandits

The Lobster Quadrille

Loose Interpretation

The Lopez

Lord Grunge

Lorelei

Lorenzo's Oil

Los Swamp Monsters

Lost Weekend

Lou Barlow

The Love Drunks

Lover 29

Lunachicks

Lung Mountain

Lydia Lunch

Mac Sabbath

Magic Wolf

Magnolia Electric Co.

Maguillacutty

The Main Events

The Make-up

Mama Spell

Man Found Dead

Manherringbone

Manhole

Margo Van Hoy

Mark Mallman

Marshmallow Pop Orchestra

Marumari

Marvin Dioxide

Massif

Master Mechanic

Maurice Rickard

Maxi-Pads

McCarthy Commission

MC Cliff B

MC Habitat

Meatballs/Fluxus

Mecca Normal

Medium Ugly

Meeting of Important People

Meisha

Meltdown

The Melvins

Bill Merante

The Meridians

Microwaves

Middle Children

Midge Cricket

Midnight Creeps

Midnite Snake

Mike Dillon Band

Mike Maimone

Mike Tamburo

Mikey C

Milagres

The Minders

Mindless Chaos

Miniature Giant

Miniature Table Concerts

Miss Massive Snowflake

Missile Toe

Missing Pilots

Modern Life

Modern Vending

Modey Lemon

Moldies and Monsters

The Molecules

Molesuit Choir

A Moment of Clarity

Mommy's Little Monster

Moonlight Motel

Moons of Saturn

Mortis

MOTO

Motorhead

The Motorpsychos

Mr. Funky

Mr. T Experience

MSC

The Muckrakers

Mud City Manglers

Murder of Bridges

Murphy's Law

Mustache Required

Mutant Mountain Boys

My Boyfriend the Pilot

My Captain, My Sea

My Dad is Dead

My Niece Denise

My Prodi

My Sexiest Mistake

My Superhero

The Name of This Band is Not Talking Heads

Nanako

Narse

Byron Nash and Plan B

Nathaniel Seer

The National Rifle

Nautical Almanac

The Need

Negative Reaction

Neighbors

Neil Hamburger

Nest

The New Alcindors

Newband

Nicholas Megalis

Night and the City

Night Shall Eat These Boys and Girls

Night Terror

The Noble Brats

Nobunny

Noctuelles

Northern Bushmen

The Northern Spy

Nosotros

Nox Boys

NRBQ

O Lendario Chucrobillyman

O.C. Feef

Oakley Hall

Octopus, Inc.

Odin Heed and the Headwinch

Ohmu

The Ohsees

On Vinyl

Only Flesh

The OPD

Orvill Rex

Ouais

Overseas

Owl Style

The Pacifist Femmes

PAK

Paleface

Pam Hanlin

Pancreatic Aardvarks

Parvulus Infectus

Patrick Elkins

Paul Green Rock Academy

Paul Kotheimer

Paul Labrise and the Trees

Paul Lynde 451

Paul Tabachnek

Pete Bush and the Hoi Polloi

Pete Donnelly

Pfunkt

The Phantom Maggots

Phat Free

Phat Man Dee

The Phone Calls

Phred Rainey

Piasa

Picasso Trigger

Pierogi Pizza

Pig Iron

Pikadori

Pinche Gringo

Pitchin' Woo

Pleaseeasaur

The Pleasureheads

Poingly

The Polyatomic

Polvo

Ponytail

Poopy Necroponde's Burgee Boys

The Pork Torta

Porno Tongue

Pox

PPDB

Presque Vu

Pretty Girls Make Graves

Professor Purple

Proto-martyr

Psycho-a-go-go

Puma Barrier

Quaranteened

R. Stevie Moore

The Radio Beats

Radio 4

Rainy Day Regatta

The Ramones

Rapscallionz

Ray Zen

Reason and Eos

Red Vs. Black

The Red Western

Refried Boogie

Reo Speedwagon

Requiem

The Residents

The Resistables

Rex Morgan M.D. Trio

The Rhodora

Rick Bach

River Is To Train

RJ Myato

Xylen Roberts

Robin Vote

Rocket From the Tombs

Rocketsled

The Roger 6

The Rogers Sisters

Rollins Band

Rot Shit

Roulette Waves

Round Black Ghosts

Royal City

The Ruins

Run DMC

The Sablowskis

Sad Tropics

Salt Chuck Mary

Sam Goodwill

Samuel Locke Ward & The Boo Hoos

Santa Inferno

Satanic Bat

Satyr/Elfheim

Savage Lines

Says She

The SB

Scandal

Science is Dead

Scott Demian

Scott Fry

The Scratch n Sniffs

Scrawl

Seam

Seas We Fear To Sail

Season Finale

Sebadoh

Secret Paper Moon

The Seeing Eyeballs

The Semi-Supervillains

Senator Flux

Sewercide

The Sewing Machine War

SFX

Sheer Mag

Shitappa Oyabun

Shonen Knife

The Show is the Rainbow

Sick Ridiculous and the Sick Ridiculous

Signifiers

Silbia Han

Silkworm

The Silver Eagle Band

Sissy Baby Boys

Skinless/Boneless

The Skirt Tasters

Slant 6

Slate Dump

Sleeping in Class

SleepyV

Slices

The Slow Reel

Sludgehammer

Smokey Bellows

The Smugglers

Sneaky Mike

Sodastream

Soft Sickle

Solarburn

Son of Bitch

Song of Zarathustra

Songs About Robots Sorry I'm Dead

Soul Excursion

Sounding Rockets

South Ken

South Sea Sneak

Sovron Court

Spacefish

Sparrow

Special Ed

The Speeds

Spidercake

Spoon

Sports Metaphors

Spudboys

Spynda, Pace and Kress

Star fk Radium

The Stars

Stars of the Dogon

Steady Matt

Stephen Foster and the Awesomes

Steve Boyle

Steve Malkmus

Steve Whitten

Sticky Pink Chew

Stone Temple Pilots

Jim Storch

Stuck in Standby

Styles For Modern Living

Styx

Subdevil

Sugar Daddy

The Suicide Dolls

Summer Erickson

Summer Lungs

Super Fun Time Awesome Party Band

Superchunk

Supersystem

The Surface Dwellers

Sweet Icing

Sweet Nothing

Take No Damage

TBA

Tecumseh EQs

Ted Leo + Pharmacists

Telecorps

Telefonics

Telesys

The Telethons

Television

Terror, Inc.

Testament

The Test Patterns

Thee 50's High Teens

Thee Speaking Canaries

They Might Be Jerks

Thin Sketch

Things That Aren't There Anymore

Third Class

.38 Special

This Present Expression

Three Day Stubble

The Thunder Chickens

Thee Starry Eyes

Tianna and the Cliffhangers

TigerHorseSheepPigCow

Tilt

The Tinklers

Tonks and the Aurors

Torus

Treeline Freeline

The Tree Three

Triggers

Tron Ate My Baby

Truckasaurus

True Love Always

Truxon

TsuShiMamiRie

Tub Ring

Tulpa

Tusklord

TV John

2020K

Uke and Tuba

Ukebox

Ukiah

Ukulady Liz

Ultimate VAG

Ume

Uni Sami

Universal Congress Of

Unlikely Japan

The Upholsterers

Upskirts

Vale and Year

Vampire Nation

Vampire Weekend at Bernies

Vehicle Flips

Vel

The Velcats

Velvet Monkeys

Vequinox

Videohippos

Viewers Like You

Village of Dead Roads

The Viragos

The Visitations

The Vivians

Von Ludendork

Vox Robotica

Wake

Wallace's Fallen Obelisk Kidz

The Wasps Nest and Valerie Kuehne

The Waxwings

WE are the Asteroid

We are the Dead

We Came From Space

The Weasels

Weird Al Yankovic

Werewolves

Wesley Willis

Western Pennsylvania

The Whipped Cream Explosion

The White Stripes

Will Simmons & Turdburglar

William Wesley and the Tiny Sockets

Wimp Factor 14

The Winterbrief

The Wire Riots

The Working Poor

Workshop

Wyld Stalyns

The Wynkataug Monks

X.13

The X Brothers

Asher Yatzar

The Youngstown Tramps

Your Favorite Assassin

Yung Ka

Z-Man

Za Dharsh

The Zambonis

Zigtebra

Zelazowa

The Zou

Zubat and the Bees' Knees

The Zvills

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arwaaxxi · 7 years

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Why me?

Summary- Having Daryl confess his feelings for you, was the only thing you ever wanted in this ruined world. But what happens when Negan shows up and everything changes.

[PART FOUR]

[Previous part] [Next part]

Characters - Father!RickxReader. DarylxReader. NeganxReader.

Note- it’s going to be a series.

Warnings- Smut in future parts, maybe? Violence. Abuse.

Number of words - 2120

It’s been weeks or a month, I don’t really know. That stupid hideous song kept playing loudly all the damn time. It didn’t really bother me. Not the cold empty lonely room I was in. Not the loud same song that was kept of repeat.

When Rick and Lori gave me up to some girl to take care of me, She used to held parties in the house all the time Loud music was her thing I was homeschooled so I never had any friends either.

I used to stay in my room for days So I was used to the lonely part Of course the loud music I used to tolerate when I was a kid, was totally different from now.

That time I could yell at her to lower it or take my frustration out on something, but here I couldn’t. I had continuous migraine, but it was nothing I couldn’t handle. I was used to sleeping in the loud music so that also didn’t matter.

What mattered is, I never actually slept. My body would lay down and rest But my brain was always active.

I could feel everything happen around me, every single foot step pass by my door. Every single noise My body would take rest, but my brain wouldn’t.

And that wasn’t because of what happened to me or what I witness or how I grew up. It started when I killed the first human, back at the prison.

When the governor was going to kill us all. 15 humans, 160 walkers.

Under all the dead, those walkers were still humans, people with lives and back story, people who were once doctors, children’s, parents, lovers, and god knows the list goes on and on.

Since then, it’s just my body sleeping not my brain.

What was really bad was the food. I owned few pets so I know pets food when I smell it

Fucking Dwight I’m going to fucking kill him Keeping me alive was a mistake. A very big one.

Would it kill them to get me some cereals? Some human food? Probably. I know if I stayed any longer here, I would lose my sanity, I could act all tough, but deep down I knew I’m nothing. I’m just a scared little girl, who was abandoned by her parents. And this is why they kept me in this empty room, so that these kind of thoughts, kill me and break me, I was my own greatest weakness Negan was smart, he knew how to bend me It’s just that I won’t bend for him Not now Not ever

My door was yanked open, the light that rushed in made me blind, I could only see white “Get up!” Dwight said as he yanked me up by my arms He walked and I followed, he knew I couldn’t run, where would I go? We reached a room, he opened the door. It looked like a clinic I stepped in and there was a familiar face there Oh god That bitch Dwight’s wife I think. I will kill her too Just for the fun of seeing Dwight suffer

“Hi Dee” she said as she saw Dwight. ’D’ that’s what I used to call Daryl too Both of them will pay She stood up, glancing at me like she recognized me “Y/n!” She exclaimed “Don’t talk to her!” Dwight scowled and I rolled my eyes. What was I gonna do to her? Stab her with my sharp words? “Whatever they say, just do it!” She told me and I shot her a glare “I said don’t talk to her!” Dwight scowled again

The doctor said some trash, i dont know I wasn’t listening, I was fine, they were just annoyed that I didn’t pull my hair out yet. They knew me so little and I knew them so well Cold blooded killers That’s all they were We walked out of the room and suddenly I was shoved to a wall, a hit in the back of my leg twisted my leg, forcing me to kneel, but I wouldn’t. I tried to stand up again but Dwight’s bloody hand was pushing me downwards

I heard chuckling and looked up, there he was, Negan! I looked around everyone was on their knee “Dwighty boi!” Negan laughed and walked past us Some guy stood in front of me with a gun pointed at me and Dwight shoved me into a seat I could take out that guy easily, but he wasn’t my concern Dwight. Negan. Those two fuckers! Dwight pulled me up and took me through a door that led somewhere outside

There was fence, and a lot of walkers around it, and people dressed in grey with big orange mark on there chest. Dwight took Daryl’s bow and shot one walker, he snickered “I’m getting the hang of this thing!” He told me. Oh I will kill him slowly. He suddenly pulled me and shoved me towards the fence A gasp escaped my mouth, startled by the sudden movement “That’s you bitch, unless you are smart, your choice!” He said thoughtfully “You could be like them, or me!”

Shoved me back into my room, I fell to the floor glaring at him, I wasn’t going to speak, to him. They were trying to break me I don’t break easy “Make it easy on yourself!” He said looking at the ground The nerve of that bitch “I ain’t going to kneel!” I hissed at him, bloody idiot “I said that too!” He glared “I ain’t no bitch like you!” “You are gonna.” He said as he slammed the door shut and the music was back playing

I clutched my hair tight I can’t handle this bullshit I started hitting the wall Screaming This is bullshit! Fucking idiots! Get control of yourself! I scolded myself This is what they want Then I won’t give in Calm down

Few days passed, and the guy who pointed the gun at me few days back opened the cell, giving me a sandwich, I hate their bloody food! They called him fat Joey, I think He looked at me, giving me pity looks and then closed the door

I don’t hear it locked This is a trap Don’t Don’t But I did

I went and checked and it was really unlocked Every bone in my body screamed ‘trap’ But I couldn’t take another day in this hell hole If I stayed longer I would break. I couldn’t break I needed to kill them

I walked through the corridors, trying to escape, being as quite and as sneaky as possible. A hand on my back made me turn and launch my fist in the person’s face Ouch, my fist

Looking up, I saw Dwight’s wife, holding her bleeding nose, looking at me through her fingers Yeah take that bitch “Go back.” She whispered and I gave her the Are-you-fucking-kidding-me look “Go back while you sill can” “Shut up!” I hissed at her “I will kill you all!” I spat “For what you did to Daryl, what you did to me and my family!” It was the first time I spoke in a while, my voice didn’t sound like my own anymore “Whatever he has done to you, there is more. There is always more. You won’t get away and when you are back it will be worse!” “I won’t be back except to kill you!” I said as I left her and rushed towards the door, I saw the light, Dwight brought me through here before I ran out and there were bunch of motorcycles waiting I tried to get on any but the doors busted open and men with guns walked out All pointed at me And then that whistling sound came Negan was behind me He chuckled, Fuck him “Are we pissing our pants yet!” He beamed

He stared at me sizing me up and down I was scared, oh hell I wanted to cry, something I normally never do But I had to pretend to be strong Try not to break He wanted me to break and I wasn’t going to break I tried to look anywhere but him Avoiding his gaze I wasn’t scared of him oh no I was scared that he would kill someone else to punish me I was scared to be thrown in that empty room again I might be used to loneliness but the past six years I stayed with Rick, Carl, Daryl and the rest, I got used to company. I had a family and now he is ripping it all away

“Who are you?” He asked as he pointed Lucille behind him at Joey “Negan!” Joey said “Who are you!” Negan said as he pointed it on another guy “Negan!” The guy answered “Who are you!” He asked no one “Negan!” All the guys around me said

I looked up at him, meeting his gaze for the first time Dammit Now I saw him better, the sunlight kissing his face The salt pepper light beard he had The dimples that were clear as sun The light brown chocolate eyes that bore into me I want chocolate, I’m hungry! I cursed myself for thinking all that now But if it made me look less afraid, then chocolate it is!

“See! I’m everywhere!” He smiled And he has perfect set of white bright teeth! Where the hell does he get tooth paste from, during a god damn apocalypse? “–which sucks because your life was about to get so much cooler!” Oops! I missed half of his boring speech, thinking of toothpaste! “Am I right?” Negan gloated “Damn right!” Joey smiled, Joey is going to die soon, I could see it!

Negan walked closer to me, almost making our chest touch, pulling his tongue between his teeth and smiling at me. Fucking hell, what a fucking smile! He could do ads for Colgate and those other companies if he wanted! he was so tall compared to me I didn’t even reach his shoulder I looked like a fucking baby next to him I had to strain my neck and my back bone to look at him as he hovered over me Bloody universe

“Dwight gave you some options!” He said as he moved away “I don’t think you get it, so I will break it down to you!” He smiled “you got four choices!” “One, you end up on the spike and you work for me as a dead man, or women! Whatever helps you!” He chuckled “Two, you get out of your cell and work for points but you would wish you were dead!” “Three, you work for me! You get yourself Anne pair of clothes and lipstick, and you live like a Princess!” “Or four, you marry me! You don’t work, you don’t do shit other than sit around with a tight sexy black dress that brings out your eyes and your perky ass! And you live like a mother fucking queen!” He winked at me and I was in shock, Dwight certainly didn’t tell me about the marriage portion, not that I was considering it, oh no of course not! “But you should know! There is no door number five! This is it! This is the only way!”

I stayed silent He was a manic Some psycho I ain’t playing his stupid games

“Or you know what? Screw it!” He said, and everything went in slow motion again I saw him launch towards me, but I did my best not to flinch or turn away because if this was it for me, I wanted him to remember the look on my face, I wasn’t afraid, not from him He stopped inches away from me, Lucille hanging right above my head My breathing stopped He was so very dangerously close Fuck him

He started laughing in front of my face “Wow!” He said amused “You don’t scare easy!” He said as if he just realized it Well well Happy late realization! Thank you for stating the obvious! You did a very good help to the society! “I love that!” He said proudly “but Lucille find I disrespectful, you are lucky she ain’t feeling thirsty today!” He said as his face changed moods, his face turned sinister and his eyes narrowed at me he came so close once more and I pushed my face away from him “But I’m” oh fuck! He will kill me! “I’m gonna go! GET ME A DRINK!” He jumped and I let a breath of relief Fucking hell. “Get her back to her room and when Dwight is back tell him to bring her to me and come!” Negan said as he walked away and Joey pushed me to go back to my room

Few hours have passed and then the door was yanked open. Dwight was standing there, he had a sandwich with him, I should have a talk with whoever is in charge of the food around here. I’m fucking gonna die from hunger soon

I didn’t reach for the food, he threw it next to me “Eat” he ordered “you got your friends killed” he said and in that moment I never hated anyone more I shot him a disgusting glare as I reached for the food and threw it at his face He kneeled next to me “You should be dead! Negan should have killed you!” He said as he reached for his pocket and stuck a picture next to my head I knew it too well The remains of Glen and Abraham That bastard And after a month of keeping it together I finally broke down, I cried.

@jouveriaalam @thewalkingdead178

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sinsandsweetness · 7 months

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Idk who would eat you out best… Rick with his full beard, or Daryl with his goatee. Best part of the whole thing is getting whisker burn on your pussy so bad you can’t sit, and when you walk… it’s like being eaten out all over again. Best thing is, you can’t stop thinking about it, and the wet pussy just throbs. Okay, I don’t know about Negan but maybe he’d be up there too? And Merle with his stubble.. mmmm. Only one is Shane unless you decide Shane grows a beard too…

Shane with a beard would send me straight to the grave. I’d die and never return.

How am I craving carpet burn between my legs rn?? Like any of them. Rick for obvious psycho bearded cave man reasons. And I have to believe Negans beard would be perfect. I know that shit scratches an itch you didn’t even know you had. And Daryl’s goatee ughhhh I’m pulling around nothing just thinking about it.

#beards #facial hair #give them all to me #carpet burn between my freakin legs rn please #bearded Shane😭😭#Rick thoughts

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sueboohscorner · 6 years

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#TheWalkingDead Season 8B Predictions Plus Plotline

Oh my goodness! Season 8B is about to begin, and I can barely contain myself. The first season was jaw-dropping, full of action, awe moments and fist fights galore. I just can't get enough of the body-dropping, exploding mayhem of this season. Are you ready for the back half to begin?

*WARNING: THIS ARTICLE CONTAINS INFORMATION BASED ON PERSONAL THEORIES, POSSIBLE FASTS, AND POTENTIAL SPOILERS. IT ALSO CONTAINS TID BITS FROM THE TELEVISION SERIES AND THE COMIC BOOKS. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!*

Before I begin, I would like to thank all of you who read this. It's quite lengthy so just a forewarning.

To start this post off, I'm beginning with the most talked about topic of the series; Carl's imminent death. As it was hinted at and finally revealed, the son of Rick Grimes had been bitten. 'The Future Serial Killer' had made it to the mid-season finale without confirming whether or not he'd been bitten. But, in the final moments of 'How It's Gotta Be,' it was revealed what many had indeed speculated. As expected, both Rick and Michonne had become riddled with shock. Rick is becoming still as stone and Michonne crying; we can only begin to think about the possibility of what this means. So, what exactly does this mean? Well, according to Creator and Exclusive producer Robert Kirkman, it could either be devastating, a hoax and Carl may actually live, or it could be as it was seen: imminent. To be honest, Kirkman has been unusually unhelpful with fans, taunting and teasing, poking and prodding at fans. He's stated everything from 'Its as obvious as its seen' to 'Carl might not die after all!' Wait, what? Okay, thanks, Kirkman. Given how disturbed the cast has been over the break, including Riggs' dad, it may (or may not) be safe to assume Carl's demise is happening. Poor Carl...

Next, I'd like to mention Siddiq and what his arrival means. In the comics, his arrival is part of the discovery of Oceanside which happens to take place AFTER the All Out War arc. But, in the show, he comes during. As we all know, Oceanside is a manless community. Maybe this means one male survived the Savior assassination line. Or, perhaps it's starting Kirkman's way of starting the Fear and Non-Fear cross-over. If that's the case, it may be an interesting way to introduce that. My personal opinion is that Siddiq is the start of the two shows crossing over.

Next, Will Morgan get to Ezekiel in time? In the mid-season finale, we saw Ezekiel King up and sacrifice himself by locking himself behind the gates after creating a diversion. In the finale pan-away moments of the episode, we saw Morgan peering inside the gates of the Kingdom. I believe Morgan will get to Ezekiel in time. I think Morgan will take out almost all of the Saviors, saving Ezekiel from death.

What's Negan's plan for the Safe Zone and does he intend to ride out the missing Alexandrian? In the mid-season finale, Negan and his band of misfits arrived pissed off. I mean, I can understand, but they had it coming. As far as staying until the Alexandrians emerge, I don't think so. They don't know where they've gone to, the community is engulfed in flames, and Negan gets bored quickly. So, given that, I don't believe they'll stay, but I DO think that Negan and the Saviors will light the community further on fire, leaving nothing but rubble.

Will Laura, the female savior who survived Dwight's ambush, dish on Dwight to Negan? Laura, Laura, Laura, why couldn't you have just died? In the mid-season finale, Dwight led a group of Saviors into an ambush. All but Dwight died, or so they thought. Laura suddenly appeared, she confronted him and shot him, quickly disappearing. Dwight tells the others that he can't go back to the Saviors now because she will tell Negan. Will she get back to Negan in time? I don't think so. I believe that either Dwight will kill her, a walker might get to her or wind up dead at the hands of someone on Rick's side.

What's Maggie's train of thought and what's her plan for the hostages? Taking her actions into consideration, I'd say Maggie is we on hey way to becoming a mini-Negan. No, not as a villain or a ruthless murderer but as in a no shit taker. With her comment, "we aren't even, but it's a start." that tells me she has some nasty things planned for her lawn ornaments. Personally, I believe Maggie will set an example through her hostages. And, with Negan being unaware of her captives, this may work out to her advantage. Or, perhaps not. We all know Negan is a self-absorbed villain who only cares for himself. But, the psycho-sociopath has a compassionate side. Mainly for his wives and the future serial killer, but it's still there. The Saviors numbers are dwindling; this may make him act. But, it could also be bad for him.

Will Rick go 'Full Shane'? So far in the series, Rick has gone 'Full Shane' three times. Once after Lori died, once after a run-in with Joe and his bandits and once after Pete tried to kill him and Rick beat him down. Will he go for a fourth? I think he might. With Carl's death approaching quick and the frustration rising, Rick may reach the point of no return. Maybe Michonne can save him from that point. Carl might just be the thing that pushes him over the edge, making him act as irrational as Negan. Rick may eventually return to the 'officer friendly' we remember, but it may take more than a quick talk-to. Rick may blue Negan or even Siddiq for Carl's death.

Next, I'd like to talk about Daryl; where's his mind and what's the plan for Dwight? Personally, I think Daryl is the most solid mindset since Abraham and Glenn's death back in the season 7 premiere. From that point through three-quarters of the seventh season, Daryl suffered from guilt, anger, and nakedness. After Honey gave him a way out and Jesus led him back to safety at The Colony, he hasn't looked back. Daryl has been a nonstop ass-kicking, and he isn't looking back. At this point, I don't see his fire dying down. As far as his plan for Dwight goes, it depends on his mindset at that moment. Dwight has two notches against him for Daryl and one for Tara. Maybe two wrongs don't make a right, but three notches may make one helluva bloody mess. He may allow Dwight to live for a while. But, he may kill him later on.

Next, I have three topics rolled up in one; Eugene, Dr. Carson, and Father Gabriel, who'll survive, who'll die and who'll arrive? As we saw in the mid-season finale, Eugene had a change of heart and managed to create a diversion for the two to escape. Gabriel offered for Eugene to come with but he declined. So, exactly how big of a chance do they have at escaping? At this point, a large one. With the Saviors being so thinly placed among the communities and with Maggie possessing about thirty, maybe two were left to guard the Sanctuary. As long as Carson can get Gabriel out quick enough, they should make it. Eugene, however, may not. Eugene may be deemed a traitor, and Negan may kill him himself. Eugene may turn the tables and snitch on the wives' plan to kill him with poison, and in the end, they all may die.

Okay! We have finally reached my last prediction. Can anyone guess what it is? It's Negan. Where exactly is the crazy villain's mind and what are his plans? Well, I think he's flustered as all get out. Rick and his group are the only ones to buck against the Saviors way as they have and have been continually successful. Not to mention, gaining and obtaining some serious firepower. Negan doesn't possess the understanding of compromise, and he isn't very nice. But, I think he knew he bit off a little much when he decided to collect Rick and Co into his community of producers. Negan's plan may go like this: after leaving Alexandria a blazing mess, Negan and his Saviors may retreat to The Sanctuary. After realizing it's not as bad, they'll take back their home and regroup. In the end, they'll fall, and the Survivors will rise...

The eighth season of AMC's hit series has been explosive and dynamic as hell, and the second half will only follow. Here's how I think it will unfold: I believe the majority will be war-based. Strategies will be exchanged, and death will occur. Everyone at Alexandria will head to the Hilltop and become a hell on earth wrecking team. It should follow the last of the all-out-war arc.

The last few episodes disregarding the finale should showcase the aftermath of the war, the imprisonment of Negan and a hint at normal civilization. Rick may kill Negan after Carl, but I think they'll follow the comic closely on this. They're going to need the villain soon enough.

The season 8 finale should hint at the two-year time gap after the war, showing Santa Rick and preparing the audiences. Negan may be seen once or twice, bearded out and somewhat docile. They may also hint at the Whisperers...

My GOD, this season has been one crazy ride and the back half is going to be just as crazy. Will you be there Sunday night to watch the madness unfold? Tune in at 9 p.m only on AMC.

Editor: Joeleen Gatlin

#TheWalkingDead #TheWalkingDead Morgan EugenePorter Dwight Michonne CarlGrimes Judith Tara DarylDixon #TheWalkingDead TWD TWDS8 Negan RickGrimes MaggieRhee DarylDixon Carol

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backlogged · 7 years

Text

Letter of introduction Dear. mr. neuman I had a take and thought it could be done better. This is a letter introducing Adam Carpenter He is young, about 20 He is an absolute sweetheart and Very personable. He loves music, beer and can play a mean chord. He is well versed in his trade You know he will make a name for himself in whatever he does. I know it will be a pleasure for everyone concerned and hope you will enjoy hearing him play. affectionately Emily. Pizza: 8 Water:5 beer : one pack Pringles: if deal three Matzo ball soup: 1 Golden peanut snack: kosher: 1 Pizza kosher snack: 1 PBR: 1 JFK comes up a lot At work, where I work I work at the cinemas And we talk a lot about JFK People like to tell their favorite jfk quotes My favourite quote from JFK is as followed ich ein bin berliner It is the best quote ever The story is even funnier JFK went to germany He went to germany smoochez the germans and visit the berlin wall He went to germany show solidarity he told the german people ich ein bin berliner Which means I am a doughnut. Frames: 6 Baskets Hangers Socks Pants New shirts Laces Smaller belt More books More vinyl Wine glasses should be picked up By the stem rather than the bowl by the bowl Rather than the stem This helps keep the wine cool No one likes hot wine Unless you are an alcoholic In that case You just do not care Fruit or soup in cups Eggs or shellfish Fowl or meat {not a roast} Never a roast Please never serve a roast If you serve roast than you are bourgeoisie Salad dessert A Memory Banished Disturbance Gratitude and Suffering Deception Onward - As If To Breathe A Memory Promised Careless Whispers (Wham) The Re-Evaluation of Tina Silent Night (Gruber) Altitude The Doll in the Trees The Berlin Dog Stability My Best Friend's Girl (The Cars) Memorandum Dog Stroll Desire (A More Desperate Hell) His Threads Are Bare And The Winds Are Marrow Continence (From The Outside) Veal scallopini Roast turkey Mashed potatoes String beans with mushrooms Cranberry sauce, stuffing gravy How much would you pay? CITIZEN KANE CASABLANCA THE GODFATHER GONE WITH THE WIND LAWRENCE OF ARABIA THE WIZARD OF OZ THE GRADUATE ON THE WATERFRONT SCHINDLER'S LIST SINGIN' IN THE RAIN IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE SUNSET BLVD. THE BRIDGE ON THE RIVER KWAI SOME LIKE IT HOT STAR WARS ALL ABOUT EVE THE AFRICAN QUEEN PSYCHO CHINATOWN ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO'S NEST THE GRAPES OF WRATH 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY E.T. DR. STRANGELOVE BUTCH CASSIDY AND THE SUNDANCE KID Butter tolls Fresh fruit compote Cookies coffee How much would you pay? Moss Pebbles Clip on lamp Heat bulb Another vase This sandgrain day in the bent bay's grave He celebrates and spurns His driftwood thirty-fifth wind turned age; Herons spire and spear. Who tolls his birthday bell, And the rhymer in the long tongued room, Who tolls his birthday bell, Toesl towards the ambush of his wounds; Herons, stepple stemmed, bless. Who tolls his birthday bell, Through wynds and shells of drowned Ship towns to pastures of otters. He In his slant, racking house And the hewn coils of his trade perceives Herons walk in their shroud, Who tolls his birthday bell, More spanned with angles ride The man souled fiery islands! Oh, Holier than their eyes, And my shining men no more alone As I sail out to die Who tolls his birthday bell. Three of four varieties of cold cuts Such as Ham, turkey, no roast beef, lamb, or cold cuts. Never serve roast beef Scalloped potatoes Vegetable salad Buttered tolls Vanilla ice cream with green mint sauce Cookies Coffee He had one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced, or seemed to face, the whole external world for an instant and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just as far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself. Curried lamb or chicken Rice ring Chutney, raisins, ground nuts French bread, butter Raw spinach salad Ice cream and cake or cookies coffee The truth was that Jay Gatsby, of West Egg, Long Island, sprang from his Platonic conception of himself. He was a son of God—a phrase which, if it means anything, means just that—and he must be about His Father’s business, the service of a vast, vulgar, and meretricious beauty. So he invented just the sort of Jay Gatsby that a seventeen year old boy would be likely to invent, and to this conception he was faithful to the end.Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that's no matter – to-morrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther… And one fine morning – So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past. Alpha Desperation March palmcorder yajna Alpha Negative Transjordanian Blues Cry For Judas Golden boy Power in a union Quito Heel Turn 2 Lobster, shrimp newburg or beef stroganoff Rice Green olives Croissants Caesar salad Cheese and crackers Fresh fruit Coffee I am a big dylan fan I love most of what he put out My first album I got for my birthday My nana took me to get it It was hard rain I thought it was peter frampton on the cover I felt pretty ripped The recording of that was a mess The title of the album tells you all you need to know It was raining The band lost their steam from the rolling thunder revue But dylan just went out and blew everyone away It is one of my favorite live performances ever from him The lyrical changes are golden as well. Everything is intimate I still have it Seven years later For everyday use One complete set of four or six place settings of inexpensive china, pottery, or unbreakable plastic ware. Which now comes in the most attractive colours This set should include: Dinner plates Dessert plates {can be used for salad} Cereal dishes {can be used for soup, pudding canned fruit!} Cups Saucers Dinner plates Cups Cream pitchers 2 platters Dessert plates {can be used for salad} 2 vegetable dishes Which now comes in the most attractive colours so get this guess who’s the other j.lo? JON LOVITZ he’s the best j.lo also has the biggest bum no doubt WERQ IT 2ND J.LO 10 Beautiful Things That Can Kill You 10 ryan gosling 9 Sheep 8.Poppy 7 Sky Dancers 6 Moonlight’s Reflection 5 Beards 4 Blue Hole 3 Yarn 2 Art Sculpture 1 Hope Diamond A Great Big World, Christina Aguilera - The ending of most of Rick and Morty season 2 episodes Ghost Town (for some reason) The last scene in It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia Season 6: A Very Sunny Christmas The Notebook Brokeback Mountain The Fault in Our Stars movie and book thenicestplaceontheinter.net Sad Japanese Commercials R.E.M - Everybody Hurts Jeff Buckley - Hallelujah Avril Lavigne - Wish You Were Here It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia Season 6 Episode 10 I’ve read Goodnight Moon almost every night for the past two years. It’s a wonderful book which my son enjoys. Here are some of my issues with the bedroom depicted in it. 1. The Size of the Bedroom This bedroom is enormous. There is no one, I think, who has not noticed this. As someone who has lived in apartments only slightly larger than “a little toy house,” it’s mildly vexing that this bedroom is the size of a banquet hall in Downton Abbey. Nice bedroom and/or place to possibly hold the 2024 Olympics 2. The Little Toy house. The little toy house would rent out for $2500 a month in Manhattan (not including utilities) This is not that little of a toy house. Not only could the rabbit easily fit inside the “little toy house,” the little toy house also has working electricity. Why are these rabbits so civilized? Is this some f**ked up Watership Down sequel??? 3. The color scheme we’re going for is “exploded paint factory.” “So what color have we decided on for the upstairs child’s bedroom?” “Which child’s bedroom?” “The enormous one. The one with the expansive tomato-colored floor.” “I was thinking for that room maybe a dark green?” “Really? Dark green? You don’t think maybe dark green walls with a tomato-colored floor is a bit much?” “No, it’ll look amazing. We can break up the monotony of the color with some dark green and yellow striped curtains.” “That’s an amazing idea. On non-matching red and yellow spearhead curtain rods? Do you think a tiger skin rug would be overkill?” “For a young child’s room? No. Not at all. ” 5. The Bookshelf “For tonight would you rather read ‘Hop on Pop’ or the entire Encyclopedia Britanica?” Why are these books so thick? This is a child’s bedroom, not a law library. Unless this rabbit is defending a doctoral thesis, there’s no need for him to own every non-fiction hardcover from Farrar Straus and Giroux. 7. The Idea That Anyone Would Keep a Comb and a Brush and a Bowl Full of Mush on the Same Table 8. Continued… Meanwhile, back at the ranch… “So what color do you think for the child’s bed?” “I was thinking like a tomato-ish red color?” “You remember the floor’s a tomato-ish red color.” “Yeah.” “You don’t think that’s a lot of red for a child’s bedroom? We don’t want it to look like the Amityville Horror kill room or anything.” “You don’t trust me? I’ve been decorating children’s bedrooms for almost twenty years.” “No, I trust you, I trust you. So you want to do all the furniture in red?” “Are you out of your f**king mind? Of course not. For the rest of the furniture I was thinking something sophisticated, like a mustard yellow.” “For everything?? All the furniture?” “All the furniture.” “Even the little toy house?” “Are you seriously asking me this? No. Of course not. The little toy house should be red.” 10. The Dangerously Non-childproofed Fireplace Also, nothing says “child’s bedroom” like an expensive mantelpiece clock bordered by Cookie Monster-blue funeral urns. 11. The Totally Ignored Existential Mouse As casual about their infestations as they are exacting about their interior design. 12. The idea that a child this young (rabbit or human) would need a black office telephone by his bedside. “Goodnight, Technologically-out-of-date telephone” Who’s calling, his financial adviser? Why would someone this age need a telephone unless it’s to call the woman across the vast expanse of his bedroom to ask her to stop whispering, “Hush.” This Picture of Bears in a Couples Therapy Session "So you say your mother was protective. Tell me more..." “So you say your mother was…protective?” Husband Bear: We’ve started fighting more since our son was born. I feel like she resents me. I feel like every little thing turns into an argument.” Wife Bear: “How could I not resent you? We have a newborn and you’re off eating salmon in a PBS documentary while I’m stuck at home 24/7. Husband Bear: “Don’t start, Janet! That documentary was a once in a lifetime opportunity!” Therapist Bear: You sound angry. Husband Bear: Brilliant observation! It took you eight years of graduate school to figure that out? Therapist Bear: Let’s all take a deep breath. In, two three, out, two three… (They are all silent for several seconds) Wife Bear: Also, a tomato red floor seems like a really bold choice for a psychologist’s office, doesn’t it?

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