#still amused that rick replied to it within like an hour of me posting it but clearly didnt read it

[aroaceleovaldez]

hey! hope this isn't weird but i wanted to know why you think artemis wasn't up to standards even in the original pjo series. you reblogged from me and so i had front row to your tags on the post about zeus jaja i've not seen people talk a lot about her and it got me interested as i'm a classics student!

- @zoebelladona 🌙

HELLO OH BOY okay so I have half a rant already about Artemis in terms of Rick and general aphobic tropes in the series. see: that open letter on twitter. i still need to transfer that to tumblr. fun fact: Rick replied to that post but deleted his reply at some point. probably because two replies after he replied to my post and word-of-god confirmed Reyna to be ace-coded he left social media for a bit.

Fun times! Anyways.

The thing I dislike about Artemis as she's depicted in the series, besides her constantly appearing as a teenager and the aphobic tropes with that [see: open letter linked above] - which on some level is slightly more excusable than other examples given she's a goddess of young women, but given how he writes Athena, Hestia, and the Hunt instead leaves a bad taste in my mouth - and other similar aphobic tropes with her, is her whole weird anti-men thing (which is also, in itself, also an aphobic trope in this particular circumstance). I understand TTC was written in 2007 so that flavor of radical feminism that Artemis and the Hunt is clearly supposed to be was only just coming into major public awareness and the flaws in the ideology (and the inherent bigotry, particularly transphobia and racism that often comes with it) weren't as well recognized at the time. But in hindsight it leaves a really bad taste in my mouth for obvious reasons and is one of the things from the first series that severely aged poorly in my opinion, and I greatly dislike that in every subsequent retcon of the Hunt for other reasons Rick more or less retains that aspect.

Secondly... it doesn't make sense from a mythological standpoint? Because there are multiple examples of men being Hunters in Artemis' retinue. Even ignoring Orion, no matter how you go about shaking that stick (which for the record I really dislike how Rick retconned him in the series/wrote him in HoO), Hippolytus is a very notable example. Literally his big whole original shtick was he joined the Hunt because he didn't like romance and Aphrodite got so pissed about him not needing her (romance) that she killed him. And even when Aphrodite was trying to ruin his life he held on to his virtues and vow to Artemis (refusing advances even when his life was on the line). He is otherwise totally chill and devoted to Artemis. Some versions of his myth has Artemis have him resurrected after he dies (by Asclepius, which is why Asclepius is punished for reviving the dead). This also obviously doesn't address the major glaring logical flaw in Artemis hating all men which is... Apollo. Especially within the series he seems to be an exception for no reason, despite Artemis also very overtly having a "brothers are not an exception to the no-men rule." And from a modern queer standpoint, it obviously begs the question of stuff like gender identity within the Hunt and if you bring back the radfem stuff it gets real bad vibes real fast. Which also sucks when you particularly look at historical/mythological descriptions of Apollo and Artemis and how they very poignantly encompass defying gender roles and expectations particularly within their cultural contexts.

And every time Rick tries to retcon the Hunt, he somehow manages to make it kind of worse, particularly with the oath. I have a whole personal thing for how I think to best rectify all that nonsense in a way that isn't horrible and is related to some of Artemis' aspects in a more sensible way (buried somewhere in this monster of a post. Honestly i'd just recommend ctrl + f search "Hunters" on that post and it should be somewhere near the first ping there). In there I also go into some of my other thoughts for the general meh way the Hunt is written in the series, mostly being aphobic tropes and random death fodder.

So yeah. Basically, tl;dr: I am personally not a huge fan of how Artemis in the series is halfway to being a terf and chock-full of aphobic tropes. And I need Rick to stop retconning things into the ground.

#pjo #riordanverse #hunters of artemis #artemis pjo #analysis #< yeah sure it warrants that tag #ask to tag #zoebelladona #ask #i really need to transfer that open letter rant to tumblr #still amused that rick replied to it within like an hour of me posting it but clearly didnt read it #long post // #also heads up this is only like half-proofread cause i'm ill right now #so i apologize if it's nonsensical at all

[ajbwasntwriting]

Daughter!Reader x Negan, Reader x Daryl: Chapter 5. Secrets hurt

First | Previous | Next

Listen I don’t know why I decided to give each chapter an artsy title I just did. Also as anyone following this may have noticed this story isn’t gonna be regularly updated but rather updated when I have something I’m proud enough to post though I am determined to finish this series, just school comes first. I hope you understand.

I’ll only post more chapters if previous chapters get a good reaction so if you enjoy this please heart it, reblog it, and/or reply to it. Interaction inspires.

if you wish to be added to the tag list please dm me. All chapters can be found under the tag AJ’s Negan’s Daughter AU

The winter continued like that. He’d bring you food and you’d give him goods, even visiting multiple times a week. Sometimes he’d tell you about the stuff, holding up a jar of applesauce ‘from The Kingdom. The guy who runs it used to own a tiger’ or loaf of bread ‘the hilltop grows the grain, but Alexandria makes it.’ You would hum and nod along, knowing he was just trying to convince you to come back. Mainly because he’d ask if you wanted to come back with him and you would be ‘grateful but happy where you are’

You had asked him to start making lists so you knew what to find and you always tried your best to deliver. Cloths, blankets, kitchen utensils, baby bottles-

“Baby bottles?” you asked, pointing at the item on the list. He nodded.

“John and his wife are pregnant and we don’t have enough to go around.” He explained from the comfort of your couch, feet up on the table.

“But you have some?” you continued, not believing what you were hearing “You have...children? As in...babies?”

“Yea. I keep telling you we’re building a society.” he laughed at your bewilderment. “You’d fit in gr-” your mind ran as what you knew was coming ‘Here it comes again. No never works with these people. How do I get him to shut up?’

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” you cut him off, smiling. You turned to your kitchen unit, pulling out a large bot, a can of vegetable soup, and salted beef that Daryl had brought that day. “You’ve brought me so much it’ll probably go bad before I can eat it all.”

In that time he had stood up and walked over to the kitchen, now leaning on the counter. His sudden appearance made you hold your breath “When did ‘get out’ become ‘stay for dinner’?” he asked, seemingly amused.

“When you stopped understanding what ‘I don’t wanna be part of your group’ meant.” You retorted, cutting up the salted beef with a dedicated kitchen knife. “Are you staying or not?” you turned to him, stopping your cuts for the moment. He nodded with a shallow ‘yeah’, making you smile then go back to cutting. You poured the meat and soup into the pot, placing the lid on top. “Some snow on top to water it down and we’ll be sleeping with full stomachs tonight.”

You had him carry some bowls and a ladle up to the roof. Within an hour the fire outside was lit and the food was cooked atop four bricks you were lucky enough to be able to upgrade your cooking fire with, the old lamp now repurposed into a weapon. There was no conversation but you didn’t feel like you needed it. The wind was calm, letting Daryl look out over the city. “Do you know where the museum is?” He asked while you were stirring the soup.

“A couple of blocks down,” you called back. “Why?”

“Me and a few others are planning on raiding it in the summer” he answered, not turning back to you.

That’s when you realised something. You had heard about all these friends. Carol, Michone, Saddiq, Rosita, Eugene, Henry, Ezekiel, Lauren. He’d mentioned them in passing, saying how they made something he brought you or appreciated something you brought him. Yet he always came alone. It would’ve made more sense if Rick was doing these deliveries, you’d met him before the winter. Sure you stitched up his leg.

The two of you were sitting in front of the fire as it fizzled out when curiosity got the better of you. You swallowed the food in your mouth.

“Why are you always here alone?” you asked, he looked up at you from the other side of the fire. “It makes more sense to have people watching your back but for the past month or so you’ve been visiting me on your own. Why?”

“That’s how it is” he scoffed between mouthfuls.

“That’s how what is?” you snapped.

“You’re allowed to be all secretive but I’m meant to have my cards on the table.” he cut back. You thought it over a second, then went back to eating. You both finished up as the fire mellowed, taking your leave back inside. You carried the pot while he held the bowls. Back in your unit, you piled the dishes into the sink.

“I should get going,” he said, going to pick up his back.

“Y/N!” you nearly yelled. “My name is Y/N,” He looked back at you incredulously. A tense silence fell over you both “Before this,” you waved your hand to motion to the apartment “I was with a few people...including my father. We managed to secure a building, kept the walkers out but after some time new people arrived and a few of them got...Protective, I guess. Including my old man.” You crossed your arms and leant against the sink, the floor now far more interesting than the man in your apartment. “People died keeping me safe when they didn’t need to, all ‘cause my old man refused to let me help, but we were still bringing in new people but not everyone was helping, either cause they weren’t allowed to or didn’t want to. That caused anger to boil in the group and then...more people died.” Thinking back on the Sanctuary tears began to flow, but your voice didn’t shake and your body stayed firm. “I ran away and I’ve been hiding ever since ‘cause I know they’ll kill me if I’m found.” You finally looked back at Daryl who had been hanging on to your every word. You wiped away your tears. “You said I can’t be secretive, well there it is.”

“I didn’t mean-”

“You don’t wanna go home” you cut him off. “You don’t like where you rest your head, that’s why you’ve been spending more and more time out here with me. I get it.” you pushed off the sink, leaning under it to pick up a jug of water to do the dishes with. “You can leave or you can stay the night. I don’t mind.”

You turned your back on him to focus on the dishes. He picked up his things and left without another word. ‘That’s it’ you thought as you scrubbed the pot, now getting more aggressive with it, ‘you fucked up Y/N.’

The following morning you woke up, opened your bedroom door, and saw a familiar red-neck on your couch. You couldn’t stop the smile that plastered your face, but you did grab some clothes from your closet then went back to your room to dress. This time when you left he was up. “‘Morning” he croaked as he stretched. “This couch was a lot comfier the first time.”

Your relationship continued like that for the next while. He’d visit you more regularly, stay for dinner, and usually, he’d stay for the night. You got tired of the complaints about the couch and cleared out the second bedroom. You liked having him visit and were willing to facilitate it. He’d even begun leaving a few things there. Functional stuff like arrows for his bow and fuel for his bike. You found him some clothes and extra blankets, and a bigger bag to carry stuff home.

You didn’t ask why he didn’t want to be with his people. After keeping everything a secret for so long it didn’t feel right, but you could guess. Between your family and your time in the army, you had developed a skill in reading people, a skill you noticed he also had. Maybe that’s why every second didn’t need to be filled with conversation. Though you wish it was so you could know more. He was kind, there was no question of that with everything he did for you without even knowing your name. Though when he came to your apartment he was tense, and he was never happy to leave. This made you think he was going somewhere he didn’t want to be, but he had to be. He always talked so highly of the settlements, trying to get you back there. He must be going someplace else.

The winter passed, your garden began to flourish again, and the walkers thawed. You thought after the winter Daryl would stop visiting but he still showed up. He didn’t come as often for a time, saying he wasn’t gonna make the trip unless he had enough to offer you. You frowned at this “Do come out” you ordered him. “You’ve got people relying on you. Children and everything and I’m able to find stuff in the city you need.”

“I don’t wanna leave you short. Our deal ya know-”

“Screw the deal, Daryl.” you huffed “You’re my friend and I wanna help you”

“Oh we’re friends?” he commented, with a cheeky smirk “Didn’t you try to kill Rick.”

‘So Tara told them’ you thought. “Yes,” you said “In a friendly way.” normally he wouldn’t find that funny, but these past few weeks escaping away to your hide-out had given him a chance to get close to you. “Come and visit me when you can, please? I got nobody else to steal my food.” That afternoon you both search for some last pieces for Daryl, having to go deeper and deeper into the city. You talked about his group’s plan to go to the museum and raid it for seeds and old machinery. You saw first-hand what a crack-shot he was with his crossbow, you whistled as another went down “Not bad bow-boy. How’d you get so good with that?”

“Before all this” you started, walking ahead to pull the arrow out of the dead one. “Me and my brother, Merle, used to move around a lot. We used to hunt sometimes for sport, sometimes for food, but he’d always make it a competition. Decided to learn a quieter weapon so I could beat that son of a bitch.” Another two walkers approached as he spoke. He shot a bolt through one of them while you took the other down with your knife. “After that, he never helped hunting again”

“Sounds like a sore loser” you commented, pulling the arrow out of the walker's head and handing it back to Daryl. He took it and reloaded the bow.

“You have any brothers or sisters?”

“Nah” you shook your head, keeping a lookout while he reloaded. “My old man said I was a miracle baby. Mom was always sick. They thought they’d never have any. I used to hate it but after hearing how Merle left you in a cell while he ran off with your girl, I’m glad.”

“Ahh, he wasn't all that bad,” he commented, walking alongside you.

“No one is as bad as they seem when you know them. At least that’s what my superior officer said”

That evening he couldn’t stay, but he left with a heavy bag and that made you happy. As the evening descended you went back to your unit. The following week would be quiet since Daryl had his big raid coming up. Though you didn’t realise how quiet until you were in the midst of it.

You had scavenged a few things. At this stage, the apartment building had been picked dry but you had a few children’s cloths and some old bandages from first-aid kits that had seen better days. As usual, you had piled everything in Daryl’s room. As usual, you were reading another book. As usual, it failed to entertain you since you’d read it about three times now. As usual, you fell asleep on the couch, not completely though because you heard the front door open.

You sat up sharply. “Dary-”

Thwack

~ Tag List ~

@softsebastian​

#twd daryl #daryl x reader #the walking dead daryl #The Walking Dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #twd #twd fanfiction #twd fanfic #twd reader #twd x reader #twd reader insert #daughter reader #negan x daughter reader #AJ's Negan's Daughter AU

[porkchop-ao3]

A Girl's Best Friend: Part 1/3

I'm coming at you with a Doofus Rick/reader fic that nobody asked for that's all about crystals! If you've been following me for a while you might know I collect crystals, and so that's where the inspiration for this came from. The crystals in readers collection are actually based on some of my own (some I believe I've actually posted pics of before), so yeah! This is SFW, fluffy and cute, so I hope you enjoy :)

-

“This- this is a piece of Citrine. Di-did you know that? I know that some people like to decorate their houses with crystals and minerals, but I love to study them and I'm quite proud of my ability to identify them.” Rick said, grabbing my attention away from what I was doing; plumping up the sofa cushions. This was the first time he'd visited my home since we'd started our relationship together; although we'd been together for some months we most often spent time at his home since it was much more spacious. His initial reaction had been to quietly and curiously wander around the room (after asking if it was okay of course, he was ever so polite) and look at the various nicknacks I owned. He'd said to me you can learn a lot about a person from how they decorate their living space. Mine was rather cluttered, though everything had its place, I had a lot of stuff. I was a compulsive buyer, when I liked something I had to have it. Yes, it made it difficult to find a spot on my already packed shelves, but I loved everything, and I kept it all neat and mostly dust free.

“Yes. Well, actually that piece is heat treated Amethyst made to look like Citrine.” I replied, coming over to have a look at the cluster of glittering, golden rock. I picked it up from it's spot on the shelf and turned away to blow the fine layer of dust that had gathered on it; it was almost impossible to keep up with the cleaning and crystals like this were absolute dust magnets. I held it out to him so he could have a better look.

“Oh! Wow, y-you know your stuff.” He said, taking it from me and tilting it to and fro in the light, watching the many tiny terminations of the stone sparkle. “This is very pretty, isn't it?” He commented.

“It's beautiful. Crystals are my favourite things to collect, I have a few of them in here.” I told him, scanning my eyes over the shelving cabinet we were standing before. “Here's a piece of Selenite.” I said, plucking a specimen off the shelf below and holding it up. This was a tower, larger at the bottom and getting thinner at the top, coming in in stages so it had a staggered step effect. The shape highlighted the interesting effect light had on the stone; looking almost translucent at some angles, but bright glowing white in others.

“You collect rocks and minerals like this? Oh… that- that's incredible. I do too!” He said, looking up at me with wide eyes, so surprised like he'd stumbled across something amazing.

“You do? What a coincidence! I always love finding things in common with you.” I grinned, watching as Rick carefully placed the Citrine cluster back on the shelf. He turned his attention to the Selenite tower.

“Y-you know, the structure of Selenite is very interesting. It's also v-very fragile.” He commented, watching how I tilted the stone.

“It's made up of like… little tubes I suppose you could say. Linear layers, right? They can chip off very easily. Even just by scratching it.” I said, and Rick's face lit up.

“You really do know your stuff! Did you know they used certain types of Selenite as window panes in the past? In Rome, there is a church that still has them intact. The Basilica of Saint Sabina.” He explained, and I raised my brows.

“I didn't know that.” I mused. “That would be very interesting to see, have you been there before?” I asked.

“Unfortunately not. I have only read about it in books. P-perhaps one day we could go together.” He said hopefully, and I smiled.

“I'd like that.” I nodded, and we looked at each other for a while with silly little smiles on our faces. Moments like this occurred often between us, whether it was the giddiness of fresh romance or just the way Zeta-7 made me feel as a whole, I could spend hours simply looking at him. “Anyway.” I said, clearing my throat and pulling myself out from under his spell.

“Anyway.” He chuckled, rocking on his heels and flushing.

“I also have this piece of Labradorite here, this is one of my favourite stones. It's incredible how it catches the light, how in some angles it looks like a plain old black rock but then the light hits it and…” I trailed off, admiring the weighty sphere in my hand as a flash of blue appeared, outlined with green and gold. It was breathtaking. “Stunning!” I sighed.

“I don't have any of that particular stone in my collection, but I c-can most certainly see why you are drawn to it. I-i-it certainly is a treasure.” He said, and I handed it to him so he could study it for himself.

“Do you know why it does that? I mean, shines like that?” I asked him, and he squinted at the sphere, tilting it and watching how it shone.

“Hmm, the ire-ir-iridescent quality? I believe that the mineral it is made up of has these l-little fractures within each layer, and so when the light shines through these layers and hits a particular surface, it reflects back the light and disperses it, giving off all these pretty c-colours you see. Though… I'm by n-no means an expert on these kinds of things.” Rick explained, before handing back the crystal.

“Huh, so it disperses the light into different colours? Kind of like a prism?” I asked.

“Hmm, similarly. You were right in s-saying that it disperses the light, but a prism works differently. They refract the light as it shines through, changing the direction and wavelength, wh-which is why you see a rainbow. This stone reflects light back, rather than have it shine through.” He said, and I nodded.

“I see. Well regardless of how it works, it's very impressive. Who wants diamonds when you can have something like this?” I asked rhetorically with a smile.

“Diamonds cer-certainly have their own wonderful properties, but I agree; th-this stone looks much more impressive.”

“I've always thought to myself, if I ever get engaged I'd like a ring with a Moonstone or an Opal, rather than a diamond.” I said without thinking, then noticed the sudden stillness in the room. I mentally kicked myself, that was not meant to sound like a hint at all, especially not so soon into Rick and I's relationship, and so I scrambled to change the subject. “You know, Labradorite is said to expand our consciousness and aid in connecting to magical abilities like clairvoyance and telepathy.”

“Oh? D-do you believe that crystals have m-magical powers?” He asked me curiously, and I looked up at him from the stone.

“I'm not sure.” I admitted. “Whether they do or not, it's definitely interesting to learn about. It's also nice to think that way and keep it in mind, for example I have a piece of Green Aventurine that I carry around whenever I feel like I need some luck.”

“Why, is that meant to be a lucky stone?” He asked.

“Yes. And it really has been a lucky stone for me, in fact, I did not even pay for it. When I received it, I had gone to a crystal store to pick up a bunch of different tumbled stones. I had quite a selection, and when the person in the shop was serving me he must've somehow accidentally included it in my bag. So that was pretty lucky.” I smiled. “I didn't realise until I got home, and since then I've thought of it as my lucky charm. I was carrying it in my pocket when I went for my job interview, and I got the job. So there's that too.”

“You probably got the j-job because you're great, I-I-I wouldn't give all the credit to a stone, if I were you.” He chuckled.

“So you're skeptical of this stuff?” I asked.

“I suppose so. B-but like you said, it's certainly interesting. What does this piece do?” He asked picking up a piece of Fluorite, a mostly rough piece with one polished surface. It was mainly green but had a little purple in it too.

“That one is supposed to clear your head and allow you to let go of emotions that no longer serve you. It's sort of a detox crystal, if you will.” I explained, and he hummed thoughtfully before placing it back on the shelf.

“What's your absolute favourite piece?” He asked me, and my face lit up. I could talk for hours about gemstones, particularly the ones in my collection. I spun around the room, glancing over my shelves.

“Ohh, do I have to just pick one?” I asked, and Rick chuckled openly, seemingly delighted by my reaction.

“Okay, I-I-I'll settle for your t-top three.” He compromised and I thanked him graciously.

“Ah! Okay. In no particular order, then; this piece of Amethyst has to be up there.” I told him, reaching for the huge, heavy lump of purple rock that was just as wide and a little bit longer than my hand. It was a cluster with a mixture of small and large points jutting out from it's base. It sat beautifully on my shelf in a lovely triangle sort of shape. “It was one of the first large specimens I ever bought. I actually bought this from a market stall in town; I remember saying to the lady who ran it when I decided against buying it right away, that if it sold to someone else then I knew it wasn't meant to be. But then I went back the next week and it was still there, so...” I trailed off and chuckled.

“So it was meant to be.” Rick finished, shaking his head in amusement.

“Yes!” I laughed, handing him the stone.

“Oh, it's qu-quite heavy.” He commented as he turned the stone around, looking at the base of it, running his hand over the plain rock on the underside. I found it funny how out of the whole piece, that was the part he was most drawn to. “It is definitely a lovely piece, I-I-I'm glad that you were able to purchase it, since you like it so much.” He added, handing it back to me so I could put it back on the shelf.

“Hmm, now this one is even heavier. I won't take it off the shelf because bits of the rock flake off and make a mess if it's handled too much, but this is a Quartz Stalactite geode.” I told him, pointing up at the large rock that from most angles looked like an ordinary grey boulder, apart from the viewing angle where part of it had been chipped away, creating an opening into the rock where you could see inside to all of the little crystalline growths. They cropped out from the sides like fingers, with tiny crystal terminations covering the sides. It was extremely glittery and magical, and if fairies were real, this was where they'd live.

“Oh, wow! Th-that really is beautiful, and huge!” He gasped, moving his head from side to side to see inside from different angles. “I c-can see why you put these out on display, they're amazing!”

“Oh? What do you do with your collection, then?” I asked him curiously, and he gave me a sheepish look, like he thought I wasn't going to like his answer.

“I kee-keep them down in my basement, all in boxes and drawers to keep the dust and light away from them.” He admitted. Part of me wanted to gasp in horror, but the other part of me respected him even more for it. Sunlight could have a terrible effect on certain gemstones, fading their beautiful colours. The first crystal I ever got when I was a child was a piece of Amethyst, and in comparison to my newer specimens it was extremely dull and lackluster after years of being on display. I still loved it all the same, however.

“Well, I applaud your resistance. I might as well be a magpie, when I see shiny things I have to have them on display.” I chuckled. “I would love to see your collection one day, if you'd let me.”

“Oh, of course! I'd be happy to show you.” He said, and I could hear the sheer excitement in his voice at the prospect. It was infectious.

“Great! I'm sure yours are even brighter and more beautiful than mine. It seems like you take very good care of them.”

“Ah, b-but yours have sentimental value. Mine are just- I collected them simply to study their structure and composition. My interest in them was purely scientific, my attraction to their beauty was accidental.” He explained with a smile. “You have one more to pick.” He reminded me, and I jumped into action selecting the final of my top three. I scanned my shelves, my eyes landing on a particular piece after some deliberation.

“Oh, it must be this.” I whispered, reaching for the hand-sized chunk of quartz in question.

“Clear Quartz?” Rick asked, surprised. Out of all of my gemstones, Clear Quartz was certainly one of the less awe-inspiring, however, I was extremely drawn to it.

“Yes, this is one of my favourite stones too… even though it may look like simple, clear rock, there's always these little inclusions in it, little patterns. I could stare for hours, just looking at the shapes inside and the way it catches the light. And this piece in particular is very special, you see how it has two main points?” I asked.

“Oh, yes.” Rick nodded, inspecting it once I handed it to him. The specimen was a large point, with a secondary point jutting out of the side of it, and it was a milky white colour.

“Well, that makes it Twin Quartz. Though, it's also known as Soulmate Quartz, which I personally think is much more beautiful. This type of Quartz is supposed to help with relationships, and finding your soulmate.” I told him, looking at the way his expression turned thoughtful at that.

“Do you think it works?” He asked me after a moment.

“Well, I bought it not long before I met you, so… I hope so.” I said quietly, noticing a cute pink blush rise in his cheeks.

“I h-hope so too.” He stammered, taking a peek at my eyes before quickly looking back down at the crystal. My heart filled with warmth at his nervousness, and I couldn't help but step closer to him; placing my hand over the top of the crystal, entwining our hands around it, before kissing him. He let out a surprised little squeak, but quickly settled into the kiss, giving as good as he got as he leaned into me, tilting his head and sending my heart racing as the kiss deepened.

#rick and morty #rick sanchez x reader #doofus rick #rick j19zeta7 #fanfiction #Crystals

[neganandblake]

I think I liked you better when you didn’t have a knife in your hand, Peaches... Chapter 13 - Pizza and a movie

Blake let out a long sigh, coming to lean against the metal railing that ran around the outside balcony, overlooking the Sanctuary lot.

It had been an hour since Blake had been marched back down the main marketplace hall by Gavin.

Various men and women, dressed in dark clothes, all carrying guns and weapons of varying sizes, had filed past her as she went, obviously making their way out to the trucks. Leaving for what Blake supposed was Alexandria.

She hoped Rick and the rest of her friends back there would be safe. Her mind flitting to baby Judith and the kids of Alexandria, innocent in all this.

Blake hadn't see Negan again, but had mooched around the marketplace stalls, watching as people stood in line to exchange their wares for points. It had been quieter that it was when she had walked through with Negan. And so after a couple of laps around the place, Blake had wandered the corridors.

Her mind had, of course, flitted immediately to David…heading for the staircase leading down the basement floor where she knew his room was.

She hadn't seen him since their run in in the canteen yesterday and as much as he had frightened and hurt her she knew that all of it…it was for him. She loved him….right?

But as Blake had reached the staircase, she found a broad shouldered black man standing there in front of it, blocking the way, with a gun held steadily in his hands.

Blake had pursed her lips, ,meaning to push past him, but he took a step to the side, blocking her path.

"I'm sorry," he uttered in a soft voice. "I can't let you go down there."

Blake had given a frown.

"Everyone? Or just me," she asked a little confused, stepping back and staring up at the man, but he just shook his head.

"Uh, just you I'm afraid," he said insistently. "Negan's orders."

Blake scowled, giving a huff, and had been about to protest, but had thought better of it at the last moment.

What good would it do?

Arguing with this guy wasn't going to solve anything.

So Blake had huffed and headed back down the corridor, finally finding herself out here, back on the balcony….in the same place Negan had offered her lemonade, just a day ago.

She still could not believe that was yesterday.

It all felt like a lifetime ago now.

Blake leant across the railing, folding her arms and staring out across the gloomy, grey lot.

The fence today, was covered with the living dead, or walkers at Rick had used to call them, and not just the ones that had been tied up and impaled there.

There had obviously been a mass build-up overnight, and today, several men in baggy grey jumpers were out there, trying to wrangle the walkers into position as best they could, as several Saviours drove knives and posts through their skulls.

It seemed like a slow process and by the looks of it they could do with a few more hands.

Hands that Blake certainly could offer them. Especially if it meant that she could carry a weapon again.

Blake looked around, noticing a tall, armed saviour with a black goatee and cropped hair, standing by the stairs leading down to the lot.

Brushing down the back of her navy pants a little apprehensively, she approached him.

"Hey, you think I could go down there and help out," she said raising her eyebrows and looking up at him. "I mean, I know my way around a knife-"

But before Blake could even finish her sentence, the man gave a scoff, cutting across her.

"Pfft, sweetheart, do you really think I'd let you do that?" he raised giving an amused chuckle and staring at her incredulously. "Negan would kill me….no worse than that…..he'd probably make sure I suffered real bad THEN he'd kill me. So beat it, ok?"

Blake gritted her teeth, irritated, and turned on her heel marching back over to the railings.

Why the hell was she being treated like a child here? Surely Negan realised he couldn't keep her wrapped in cotton wool and cooped up here forever!?

She let out a long breath of air and watched the men and the walkers for a good twenty minutes or so….her mind flitting back to a time before Alexandria….when they had fought tooth and nail for survival…loosing so many people along the way.

Blake had forgotten what it felt like to have a real home….have a family.

She had always had David of course…and the people at Alexandria had always made her feel welcome….but it wasn't the same as it once was back in the real world.

Back then, Blake had worn pencil skirts and high heels to work, grabbed lattes from the coffee shops around the corner, and talked for hours on her cell phone to her girlfriends about their weekend plans.

She had got blow dries and spent lots of money on make-up…more than she probably cared to reveal to David back then.

She had watched re-runs of her favourite TV shows in the evenings, and checked in with friends online….staring at their holiday photos and making herself jealous.

Because all that…it had been important to her back then.

That world…that life….it had all been so loud….so busy….

She had been young…mid to late twenties….having the time of her life…

Blake thought about David.

They had been happy once….ok, he had never been the biggest earner…hoping to get his own art studio one day…but Blake had funded him….kept him going on the lifestyle he liked. Even if it meant her working a lot of overtime. But she had done it because she loved him.

Then the day came….that awful, awful day…when they had packed whatever they could carry, leaving Blake's high heels and pencil skirts there in the city…and driven out of there…sitting in long queues of traffic and then walking for hours….and hours…and hours….

Within a day her cell phone was dead….another day they had been ambushed by a horde of the dead….seeing a family that had followed them along the back-road trail, killed before their very eyes….

A day after that….they were alone, and the world was silent…

...it was all so silent….

And that had been when Blake had known that it was gone. It was truly all gone. Life as she knew it…

Her home…and her family…

All she had left now was David.

And she knew she couldn't lose him. Even when beatings came….she held on tight to him….telling herself that he was her family. He was her home.

And he still was.

Blake blinked, as she heard the door suddenly open behind her and a group of three or four female voices were heard.

She looked around back over her shoulder as the nearby Saviour with the gun did the same, just as four women appeared through the large swing doors, walking out onto the balcony.

One had red hair, Blake immediately recognised as Frankie, the woman from David's room the previous day. And at her side was Tanya, another she recognised from last night. The woman who had appeared in Negan's quarters who had walked Blake back to her room. Behind them were two more women, one young with long white-blonde hair, another with tan features and dark brown eyes, her hair tied up in a bun.

They were all wearing the same style of short black dress and all immediately stopped talking as their eyes landed on Blake.

At this Blake gave an inward gulp, not expecting this reaction.

These were obviously Negan's wives…perhaps this was all of them…although she wouldn't put it past him to already have a different wife for each day of the week.

Blake turned to face the group of women fully, who had stopped in their tracks, as though not expecting to see her out here, and stared at them, parting her lips.

"Uhhh…hi," she murmured, trying to force a smile in their direction.

But the women didn't not reply…

In fact, they did not even smile.

After a long second or two, she saw Tanya, merely give Frankie a poignant shove forwards and the women all hurried away down the steps, past the armed Saviour, heading down to the left of the yard.

Blake gave a despondent sigh, turning back to the railing and placing both hands on it, giving it a frustrated squeeze.

Had Negan really warned everyone away from her?

Right now she felt so frustrated.

So trapped.

Firsts she hadn't been allowed to go see her own husband and now other women were blanking her. But why?

Was she really that bad?!

Suddenly pushing herself from the railing she decided to follow the women….hoping that the Saviour with the gun would not stop her. She hadn't seen around this entire place with Negan, so she would try and explore as much of it as she was allowed. Although she expected that wouldn't stretch too far.

She pushed her long caramel blonde hair back across her shoulders and lifted her chin, strutting past the man defiantly…and to her a surprise, he didn't make a move to stop her.

She chanced a second glance at him and she headed down the steps , but he was already staring away uninterestedly.

Reaching the bottom, Blake found that the four wives were long gone, but the walkway wrapped around the building, splitting off into two paths through a couple of smaller units. Blake took the left one and began to walk.

It was hot and humid out and even under the gloomy grey sky of this day in late fall, Blake could feel beads of sweat collecting at her collarbone.

She was tall and with a medium build, having dropped a well-needed pound or two around her waist and hips since all this had started….but she knew that was likely mainly due to all the walking she had done over the past few years. But even now…on days like this she longed for air-con and a temperate shower.

Blake walked down a small pathway that led through the buildings, hearing voices murmuring a little way ahead of her…

Perhaps it was the wives…..perhaps she could catch up with them and confront them.

But she turned the corner, furrowing her brow …finally stepping out into a small courtyard that had been turned into a sort of makeshift communal back-yard.

There was full lines of laundry hanging from wall-to-wall around the yard…with pots of various sizes, growing what looked like small lemon trees as well as others. There was a couple of small plastic-covered greenhouses and a large gas barbecue in the centre of the courtyard, but it was the vast amount of people that were stood around talking, laughing with one another that surprised Blake the most.

There were a small group of children all running around the potted plants ducking and diving away from each other, paying tag. There were a couple of women sowing what looked like pairs of socks on the far side of the area, as well as men and women of various ages moving about going about their work happily and contently.

If Blake had not known any better, she would have guessed they were back in Alexandria or at any of the other camps she had been at before now.

But almost as soon as Blake had walked forwards around the corner, entering the courtyard, a sudden hush seemed to fall over the small crowd, as heads began to turn towards her.

A woman with ashy blonde hair, pulled a small boy aside hurriedly, stepping back, looking nervous.

Blake took a step forward, noticing suddenly that the people all around her had bowed their heads, avoiding her eye.

Just like they normally did with Negan…

Immediately Blake felt embarrassed, her cheeks reddening, as she walked further out into the courtyard looking this way and that.

This was a proper community and as oppressed as these people did seem on the outside, Blake had to be grateful for the fact that they were safe…inside these walls. Just as the people back in Alexandria were.

Blake remembered back to when all that had been new to her…and David….and the rest of her small group. When they had arrived in Alexandria after so, so long spent out there. When they had finally found somewhere where one person did not have to stay up all night on watch...or go in pairs to the bathroom together.

A safe place.

Is that what these people had here?

Blake looked around, passing a young couple with glasses as both of them immediately stared down the ground as she moved by them. They only looked about Blake's age, and perhaps long ago she would have been friends with them….gone out to bars or for coffee with them…and yet now…these people almost looked fearful of her.

Blake gulped yet again, dragging her eyes away from them and coming to a stop just in front of a long line of washing….

….just as a small girl with brown hair appeared in front of her….

….wearing a large, oversized sweater.

Blake gave a blink staring down at the girl as she spoke with a tiny lisp.

"Thank you for my sweater. It was my birthday yesterday," she uttered in shy sort of voice.

Suddenly realization dawned on Blake as she gazed up at a figure, standing just a little way behind the tiny girl.

It was the woman from this morning…whom she had given the sweater to at the marketplace.

The woman mouthed a 'Thank you' just as the little girl before her, lifted something to Blake's face.

Bake looked down, her breath catching in her throat.

It was a flower. Beautiful and white with a long stem.

"My name's Lydia," she said giving Blake a smile. "What's yours?"

Blake instantly felt tears welling in her eyes as she gently took the flower from Lydia's grasp.

"I…um…I'm Blake," she uttered in just a whisper.

But all this. It was far too much for her to cope with.

This little girl…this gesture from someone who already had nothing….

It was too much to bear.

Blake suddenly murmured a hurried 'excuse me' before turning on her heel and hastily marching out of there as fast as she could.

She knew that all eyes were on her, but right now she didn't care…

She hurried through a large set of doors, and down into a darkened hallway, before suddenly and before she could stop herself bursting into tears….

…the small white flower still clutched tightly within her hand.

Blake flipped over a page in her book letting out a sigh.

It was late evening now…maybe 9pm, and Blake was in her room, sat across her bed reading…as she been for the past few hours.

The flower she had earlier been given was now sat neatly in a green vase on her table in the centre of the room.

Blake had of course been overwhelmed by the gesture…she had cried in silence, unable to stop the tears from falling.

She had felt oh-so overwhelmed by the gesture. All she had done was give the girls' mother a sweater, and yet they had treated her as if she were some sort of princess to them….a Queen. So grateful...when Blake knew she didn't deserve it.

She had only done it to defy Negan…hadn't she?

And yet from both sides…Negan and his people…. they had both given her so much in return…so much that she certainly wasn't worthy of.

The afternoon, of course, had dragged by.

Swiping away her tears, Blake had made her way down the corrido, finally fining herself back in the large canteen….where a tiny queue had formed for late lunch, down at the end of the large room.

The food had smelled so good, and Blake had realised she hadn't eaten since yesterday, and so had walked over to tentatively join the end of the group of awaiting people.

But she had barely made it to the end of the line, when the seven or so people ahead of her, suddenly stepped aside, allowing her to skip in front of them.

Blake hadn't quite believed what an impact Negan's words would indeed have, until this point.

They way these people looked at her with fear and apprehension in their eyes.

She of course declined their offer, urging for the people to take their place back in the line, but they just bowed their heads, refusing to move, and so Blake had eventually stepped up, taking plate filled with meat and potatoes and a large portion of vegetables. (She noticed later that she was the only person who had been given these vegetables…which made her feel even more guilty.)

She had eaten alone on a long table to herself, before quickly heading back up to her room, feeling lonelier than she had in a long time.

She had hoped to see David around…but he had been nowhere to be seen. Her mind trying not the think of the fact that perhaps he was with Frankie again.

Blake worried at her lips slightly as she turned the page of her novel.

She had made it most of the way through Moby Dick now, but had a lot of titles on her shelf still to get to.

Blake had mastered being bored by now. For a long time she had whiled away hours spent in darkened buildings afraid to turn on a light to read, in case the dead found them. But it was not having anyone to talk to that pained her the most. Made her feel bored and alone…and trapped.

She knew that she could go down to the canteen but even there she would be eating alone yet again… And so despite how much her stomach was rumbling and protesting, she would stay here and read a little more before going straight to bed.

But as the minutes ticked by, the only sound being the pages of her book being turned every minute or so, it wasn't a surprise that Blake jumped out of her skin at the sound of loud knocking on the outside of her door.

She gave a frown, staring suddenly up, before slowly placing down her book and getting to her feet.

She brushed down the back of her navy pants, before padding carefully to the door and hurling it open…

But Blake could only purse her lips and frown, staring suddenly at the figure of the other side.

"You miss me?"

It was of course Negan…standing in his battered, old leather jacket, shucked over a, now, bloodstained t-shirt. He had Lucille, as always, flung over his left shoulder, holding the wire-covered baseball bat, loosely in his grip.

Blake gave a frown, wanting to question him on his current bloody state and the outcome of the folks back at Alexandria.

"Whose bloo-," she began. But as her eyes travelled down to his other hand, she stopped suddenly, her frown become one of bemused confusion. "Wait…...is that…..pizza?"

Sure enough, in Negan's other hand was a large round plate with an enormous pepperoni pizza sat on it.

She stared up into Negan's smirking face, just as two men Blake didn't recognise, filed past her into her room before she could stop them.

"Wait-uh-what?" she said almost spinning around on the spot in confusion, as one man moved past her carrying in a large black TV and the other a humungous, ancient-looking VCR and two video tapes.

But Negan just gave a chuckle.

"Well you said you wanted pizza and a movie," said Negan his lips curving up into a grin as he looked down at her. "So I thought I'd bring the queen exactlywhat she wanted. Courtesy of ol' Greg an' his gang of wet-fuckin'-blankets up at the Hilltop."

Blake looked over her shoulder at the two men setting up her TV, before gazing back at Negan, her breath hitching in her throat in confusion.

"So you didn't go to Alexandria?" she said, that frown still lingering between her brows, but her entire body flooding with relief. "B-But you said-"

Negan shifted his weight from foot to foot, smirking at her.

"I didn't say a fuckin' word, buttercup," he mused, giving a nod. "But there you fuckin' go, assuming the worst from me, as always."

He tutted, causing Blake to grit her teeth irritably.

"Do you really blame me?" she shot back snappily.

But Negan just smiled that annoying smile of his, lowering Lucille from his shoulder and placing her against his leg before picking up a slice of pizza and taking an obnoxiously large bite, as the two men filed back past the pair of them, heading out of the room once again.

"I mean, if you don' want it," he uttered talking through chews and pointing at her with his hand holding the pizza. "I am more than happy to take this pizza away and enjoy it myself."

But Blake shot him a scowling look, suddenly snatching the plate from his grasp.

"Fine," she said in a huffy tone. "I'll take it."

At her reaction, Negan grinned, tossing his half eaten slice back onto her plate and placing his arm to the doorframe, leaning up against it and looming over Blake slightly.

"Had a feeling you'd come around, Doll-face," he muttered in a husky voice, shooting her a knowing look through darkened lashes. "I think that soft spot you've got for me is comin' along nicely. Next you'll be asking me on a date and wanting to put your hand up my blouse."

Blake rolled her eyes.

"Was there anything else?" she asked, raising her eyebrows and shooting him a fake smile, which only caused Negan to let out a loud laugh.

The dark haired Saviour bit his lip, poking his tongue out between his perfect teeth as he eyed her.

"An' there was me thinkin' you were gonna ask me in. I'm hurt," he uttered pressing a hand to his heart and scooping up Lucille from the floor.

For a long moment he looked at Blake with something in his eye, which Blake couldn't help but smirk back at.

Had she imagined three days ago when she had woken up in that cell, that she would now be standing here, hot pizza in her hand and a movie playing on the TV behind her. And in her own room too…..she wouldn't have believed it could be true.

And it was all down to one person…

But was that person David…..or was it Negan…

Blake's green eyes lingered on his for second or two…both of them seemingly unable to look away….but Blake knew she was playing with fire here.

She let out a quiet chuckle…and stared down at the pizza in her hand….just as Negan pushed himself off of the doorframe, grinning.

"Night, Peaches," he uttered with a warm growl, turning on his heel and heading back of down the corridor, his boots chinking as he went.

And with that, Blake just stood there for a long moment, watching him go. Before slowly smiling to herself, shaking her head and closing the door with a snap, behind her.

...................................

Send me a PM or an ask if you’d like to be tagged in this fic. More chapters to come very soon.

Hope you all had a great 4th July! :)

@collette04 @attorneyl @charoly @princessmoonspunky @mssharingisfun

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