Adolf Von Becker (1831 - 1909) - The Cat On The Pillow. Oil On Canvas.

LITERALLY ME OH YM GOD HES SO PERFECT! imma eat him up

did someone say cowboy caleb?

quick caleb doodle

USELESS

I have gotten back into love and deepspace SPECIFICALLY for Caleb, I hope he knows that

I started playing it when it first came out and Xavier was my first but now it's pretty much only Caleb, even though Xavier still holds a place in my heart.

Anyways, enjoy my mc and Caleb. She might not look perfectly like me, but I got pretty close minus the bags and sleep deprived look.

Since mc is supposed to be the player, I wanted to do myself a form of self love and actually make her look as close to me as possible but she'll be far prettier than I'll ever look with my features GAH

Part of me wishes that the game did have a way to scan your face and import your look to your MC but I know that would cause more problems with some fans, so oh well

Title: Artificiality.

Heavily based on this ask.

Pairing: Yandere!Dainsleif x Reader (Genshin).

Word Count: 2.0k.

TW: Sex Doll AU,  GN!Reader, Implied Sex, Implied Kidnapping, Unhealthy Relationships, and Mentions of Blood/Injury.

Dainsleif, your good friend, didn’t like crowds.

He wouldn’t admit him, but it was obvious. You were good at reading him, and even if you hadn’t been, he couldn't really hide it - always edging just a little closer to you than he normally would, or running his hand through his hair as his eyes shifted from your back to the sidewalk to the masses of strangers you were shouldering past, or making a quick grab for your hand before remembering how cool and distant he liked to be and pulling away. It was worse than it usually was today, maybe due to the summer heat or the time of day or the fact that you'd managed to drag him out to the shopping district of all places, somewhere he tended to avoid like one of the mall cops had a warrant out for his arrest. Sometimes, you couldn’t help but think that, if it wasn’t for you, he’d never leave his apartment, shun all human and artificial company alike. It was a terrible way to picture one of your closest friends, but still – you wouldn’t say it if part of you didn’t believe it was true.

“Hey,” You called, over your shoulder. He was behind you, his shoulders pushed forward and his head bowed, slightly. He was scowling, but you couldn’t blame that entirely on the crowds. “Doing alright back there, Dain?”

He hesitated, made a throaty sound that might’ve been a scoff, or a sigh, or something else entirely. “I’m fine.”

A lie. A blatant one, at that.

But, that was why he had you, right?

You laughed as you grabbed his hand, guiding him off of the crowded walkway and onto the covered patio of a nearby café, dotted with a few tables and a handful of seated customers but otherwise empty. When he didn’t immediately unwind, you did what you could to set an example – leaning against a white-washed brick wall, tilting your head back, and watching as Dainsleif crossed his arms, shifted his weight, did all the things he usually did when you’d taken him somewhere he didn’t want to be. When he glanced in your direction, you could only shrug, smiling apologetically. “I didn’t think it’d be so busy,” You admitted, nodding towards the rows of packed storefronts in front of you. “Sorry, I should’ve thought about that before I asked you to come. I promise, I just need to do one more thing, then we can leave.”

“I told you, I’m fine.” Stubborn as always, even as he fiddled with the sleeves of his jacket. Maybe that was why he always seemed so uncomfortable, so eager to leave wherever you’d taken him. If you dressed like he did – all long-sleeves, all full-length jeans, all heavy coats and high collars and thick, dark material – you probably wouldn’t want to stand around in the heat for very long, either. “If any of this bothered me, I wouldn’t have come. Besides,” He paused, gesturing vaguely towards the dozen or so plastic, branded shopping bags hanging from your wrist. “Someone has to make sure you don’t spend your life’s savings on… Why are we here, again?”

You opened your mouth, but didn’t answer immediately. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught the door to the café opening, a waiter… or, rather, an android being used as a waiter soon stepping out, notepad already in-hand. A Venti, judging by the twin braids, the easy smile he put on as he started towards you, probably mistaking you and Dainsleif for waiting customers. You waved him off quickly, of course, chuckling to yourself as he spun on his heels to tend to another set of patrons. “I’ve told you, Teyvat has a new—”

“Don’t tell me that you’d be interested with someone like him.”

His tone caught you off-guard. Clipped, irritated, laced with a kind of annoyance you couldn’t remember ever hearing from him. You weren’t hurt, but the shock thew you off for a second, your confusion audible in your voice as you tried to respond. “Do you mean that Venti specifically, or…?”

“I—” He pursed his lips, turning away from you sharply. “I mean, don’t tell me you’d be interested in something like that.”

“Oh, a companion droid?” That made more sense. He’d never liked androids, something you could only chalk up to the fact that Dainsleif didn’t like a lot of things – save for you, of course. “You know I’ll never be able to afford one, which is exactly why you're taking me to drool over the new droid Teyvat's releasing today. I've heard it's a Harbinger - one that'll only cost three years worth of rent, for a change.” You straightened your back, perked up, waving for him to follow you as you started back onto the walkway. “Speaking of, c'mon. We should get going before this set sells out.”

There was another scoff, but there was a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, a new levity to his voice. You couldn’t help but relax a little, at that. Honestly, you were just hoping he'd have a good time. “Fine,” He said, already falling into line behind you. “If that’s what you want.”

"I couldn't think of anything I'd love more, Dain."

~

Dainsleif, your boyfriend, was touchier than he’d like to admit.

His hands latched onto your waist, your knees planted on either side of him, his face buried in the side of your neck, where he could lap at your skin and moan into the crook of your shoulder as you ground against the prominent bulge in his sweatpants. There was a movie playing in the background, one of the B-rated high-fantasy flicks he liked, but you’d lost track of the plot twenty minutes after he’d put it on, and any scraps of dialogue you’d be able to make out were lost under the sound of his hitched breathing, the occasional grunt that’d slip out whenever you rolled your hips in a way he seemed to enjoy.

He pressed a wet, hot kiss into the side of your neck, and you whimpered, bringing your hands up to the hem of his shirt, your fingertips just barely brushing against his toned stomach before he caught your wrists and hauled your own shirt over your head, nearly tearing the fabric in the process. You only laughed, the pitchy sound cut short as he wrapped an arm around your waist and threw you onto his couch – positioned so that he was above you, his chest pressed into yours and your legs wrapped around his waist. His mouth was on your neck in an instant, then your collarbone, then your chest, his teeth grazing over your skin with just a little too much pressure and a little too much precision to be purely accidental. You arched into him, your fingers soon tangled in his hair, and he let out a rough groan, nearly too low for you to hear. “Mast—”

He cut himself off, straightening his back, going rigid on top of you. It took everything you had not to laugh. You knew you shouldn’t tease him, not right now, not like this, but still, the temptation was there. “What was that, Dain?”

He hesitated for a long, quiet second, then closed his eyes, melted into you despite the tension still knotted in his posture. “Master…” He trailed off, his voice soft, muted. “Is it… Is it alright if I call you that?”

“Of course.” You did your best to comb through his hair, to as comforting as you could be, given the situation. It took him a moment, but he leaned into your palm, sighing heavily as he started to relax. “It just surprised me a little, ‘s all. I didn’t know you were into stuff like that.”

You watched as he swallowed, as he lowered himself back down to your chest. “And, I can touch you?”

A little, soft sound of agreement, a gentle nudge lower. “Anywhere you want to.”

He didn’t say anything for a long moment, didn’t move at all.

Then, he broke out into a small smile, and his eyes fell away from you, his expression softening into something nearly sweet. “I love you.”

You only grinned, sitting just far up enough to kiss the top of his head. “I love you too, Dain.”

~

Dainsleif, your Dainsleif, was standing in the doorway of your bedroom, covered in blood.

That was the first thing you noticed after you bolted awake, panting and still trying to understand what you were looking at, from his torn clothes to the open gash stretched across his chest to the splotches of something dark and wet and drippinglittered across his chest, his hands, his legs. He didn’t have a key, he’d never asked for one, but you hadn’t heard him knock, nor had he turned on any of the lights, done anything aside from stand there and stare at you, not blinking or moving or breathing, from what little you could see. You sat up, but he didn’t say anything, didn’t move to approach you. You didn’t know whether to be scared, or thankful you had a few more seconds to catch your breath.

A few seconds you wasted, of course. He was bleeding, and you needed to know why. “Dain? Are you—”

“They’re bastards.” You almost asked who he was talking about, what he was talking about, but you didn’t have the chance. He was already going on, already rambling, already approaching you with the kind of quick, stilted steps that’d fit something else, something more mechanical than you or him. “All of them – bastards. The Archons were—They aren’t even cheap replacements, they’re killers, and Teyvat, the other androids, all of them, they’re all murderers—"

“Dainsleif.” You started to get up, pushing your sheets aside and moving to stand, but he was already at your side, already trying to take your hands in his. You pulled back, and he let out a frustrated grunt – something you tried to ignore as you continued. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, and—Did someone hurt you? What happened?”

“They want me dead.” He was smiling, now, grinning wildly. He made another grab for your hands, and when you drew away, he took you by the shoulders, instead, his grip almost tight enough to bruise. “They want all of us dead, Master – everyone from my collection. But, I won’t let them. They can’t kill all of us. They can’t rip off my skin and ruin my mind and send me out as some— some object.” He paused, laughed, dragging you into a sudden, clumsy kiss. You shoved at his chest, bit at his lips, but he didn’t so much as flinch, only pulling away after he’d gotten his fill. “I’ll have to move again. But, you’ll come with me, won’t you? You love me, don't you, Master?"

You opened your mouth, but couldn’t speak. Your eyes were starting to adjust to the darkness, and before you could stop yourself, your attention fell from his face to his chest, to the tear in his shirt that slit the fabric apart from his neckline to his midriff. You were right about the cut. It was a wound, messy and deep, but it wasn’t bleeding, and the skin around it didn’t look right, too clean, too neat. There wasn’t any muscle, or tissue – just blackness, empty void interrupted by…

By something silver?

Your eyes shot back to his, and for the first time, you noticed how glassy they were, how his skin was just a little too perfect, a little too smooth. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. If you were being honest, you didn’t want him to.

It’d save you the pain of having to wonder why you’d never noticed how unnatural his voice sounded, before.

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Yandere Wasp Izuku

((Contains: Somnophilia, or something akin to it, while no sex ensues, the reader is marked while in the middle of sleeping. Anyway enjoy!))

“Izuku! Seriously, it isn't a big deal!” you try and calm the wasp breed down, hands up in defense for the person behind you who was almost sobbing in fear. The green haired hybrid was almost snarling, his wings batting angrily in a show of intimidation as he tried to lunge at the poor soul. 

“IZUKU! CALM DOWN!” you shout, shoving him back to give the person time to run, listening to the scurrying footsteps being drowned out by the fervent beating of his wings. Once you believed the coast was clear, you stepped back, hand placed on the still heated hybrid's chest. 

“What has gotten into you?! I would expect this kind of behavior from the others, but you?”

Izuku chuffs, turning his head away in shame at your scolding. His wings fold back down, and his eyes return to their softer, more welcoming presence. “I’m…I’m sorry. I honestly don’t know what came over me. When I saw them touch your hand- and how they got their scent on you, I just…My feet moved before I could think”. 

His voice was sincere, his eyes having a look similar to a scolded puppy as he gently took your hand from his chest, letting it drop reluctantly. 

You take a breath, eyes focused on the ground for a moment as you gather your thoughts. “Ok. Ok I can see you thinking of me as a hive like sibling possibly, maybe that’s what caused you to lash out. But it’s no excuse for threatening them!”

Izuku wanted to correct you, that no- you weren’t seen as a hive relative. You were seen as a MATE. One only he was allowed to be around. But, seeing as you were still distraught over the incident, he decided to work on how he would drop that information on you. Perhaps back home, maybe in your room?

No, no your room is nice, but izuku’s is better. You’ll be more protected there, covered in his scent so other insect breeds don’t get any funny ideas and have to face the evil side of his species. 

He shakes his head, eyes widening slightly as he soaks in what just crossed his mind. What was he thinking?! Keeping you nested in his room- that’s never come to light before. Sure, he’s always been protective of you, but this was becoming more worrisome by the second. 

You give a sigh, and decide to finish this little walk so you don’t possibly give a heart attack to an innocent citizen. “It’s something we can look into later. I know your species is still new to this side of earth and all, so maybe we should brush up on some customs and such to avoid any more death threats”. 

-----------

Izuku sat down as he read through some files, humming in thought every now and again as the screen scrolled on his phone. “No…That’s outdated…that one's true but…no, no. none of these are helping!” he groaned in frustration, wanting to toss the device as he slammed his head back in annoyance. 

He clicked out of the page and tried looking through the other categories and sub folders, eyebrows pinching in confusion as he searched. Finally, after about an hour, he decided to check the mating behaviors folder, taking in a short breath. 

“Possessive, mates for life, territorial and…” he continues reading on, seeing that his age range is about the time where he starts to need a mate to bond with if he hasn’t already chosen one. Tilting his head in thought, he supposed it made sense that he was so protective of you these past few months. Maybe he just subconsciously chose you, delegating you as his forever mate without a second thought. 

He continues reading, not wanting to get too lost in thought about you- despite loving every image of you he had popping into his head. He came across a few paragraphs explaining how mates are bonded, and frowns as he scrolls through. 

“Mates have to be bonded through a claiming bite while-” he blushes, swallowing slowly as he reads the process it takes to make someone yours completely in his species lifestyle. Could he really do that to you? Sink his teeth into you and breed you so full you’ll never leave his home again? Make you his and his alone?

“Hey! You find anything?” you ask while flopping next to him, turning your phone off as you turn to face him. “I could only find some sibling bonds and what not.Maybe you’re just having a bad day? Or, maybe that scorpion Bakugo finally rubbed off on you” you joke. 

Izuku nods, hiding his phone in his lap nervously as his wings slowly unfurl from his back. You smell so sweet. It makes his muscles relax, and for a moment he gets so lost in the warmth he forgets to answer you. “Oh! I uh, I'm still scrolling! You know me, I have to get every detail” he lied. 

He can’t tell you what he found. There’s no way you’d let him, love and bonding for your kind is so much more different, so much less brutal and intense. No, he plans to mark you, make you give in and take him as yours forever, but he has to hide that beast within. 

For now, anyway. 

“Hey, how about we take a break and I cook you something? Consider it an apology dinner for earlier” he half jokes, beginning to stand. His eyes turn angry when you begin to deny him, about to insist that you aren’t hungry. Before you can turn him down, he cages you in, his face mere centimeters from yours. 

“I won’t let you go hungry…Heh, what kind of friend would I be if I couldn’t provide for you and feed you? “ he bit out, barely hiding it behind a smile. You just nod slowly, not sure what to say about the odd display, clutching your phone tightly until he backs away. 

“Good! Just stay right there, ok? If you need something let me get it for you! Got it?”. 

You just nod again, watching as he walked towards the kitchen to begin cooking. Izuku just growls lowly at himself for letting his instincts take over so quickly, making a fool of himself. It seems hiding this beastly side of him will be a tougher fight than he thought. 

----------------

It’s hot. Too unbearably hot. He still feels as if he’s asleep as he gets up to walk, maybe cool off outside for a bit before heading back to bed. 

His eyes are closed as he rolls over, but they snap open when he feels a body next to him. He peers over to see who on earth could be sharing a bed with him, and he becomes overly ecstatic to see that it’s you. 

Wait. This doesn’t seem right, these sheets don’t feel like his own and the painting if the room doesn’t match the interior of his. Izuku slowly starts piecing together what had occurred, and undoubtedly he sleptwalked into your abode. 

It seems his instincts have a stronger hold on him when he isn’t awake. He should feel upset, frightened that he has no control over himself, but he’s not. He’s simply content laying next to you, inhaling that intoxicating scent, his wings wanting to unfurl and shudder from the bliss it brings. 

That heat comes back, and he sees that the unbearable warmth was because his inner primal mind was begging to come out. To take what was rightfully his. 

He should leave, he shouldn’t be here while you’re at your most vulnerable, he needs to try and quietly leave and forget this ever occurred. But…what if he just had a little taste? Something to tide him over and to get his shit together. 

His species marks and claims when mating, they’re intense and some might even say brutal. So, if he just eased his way into this, stole a simple taste, perhaps he could train himself to be more in control, less instinct controlled. 

He creeps closer to your sleeping form, mouth watering as he sees the exposed skin of your shoulder, teasing and taunting him. His tongue comes to lap at your warm flesh, and once he gets a taste, his mind goes blank.

He doesn’t remember anything, he wakes up feeling a deep satisfaction as he curls tighter around whatever it is between his arms, possessively squeezing. A hiccup causes him to wake up fully, and his stomach sinks when he sees what had happened. 

You’re covered in marks, bites and red splotches where he incessantly sucked on your skin. “Oh no” he gasped, seeing the tears in your terrified eyes as you roll away and shove him to the floor. 

“You-Izuku…Are you back to me?”

“I'm me! I'm me, I'm so sorry oh God-What happened?” he asked hastily, praying he didn’t do the unthinkable and hurt you beyond repair. You sniffle and wipe your eyes as you sit up more, taking a moment to breathe. 

“You just…Kept biting and clawing at me, and you looked like you were angry when I tried to get away. I think you wanted me dead or maybe...Maybe you slept-walked and saw me as a predator to fight? I’m not too torn up it was just…You kept biting and hissing about odd things”

Izuku swallows down the actual reason his lips were on you, knowing it’ll only make you hate him even more. He can’t have that, he won’t lose you just because he can’t control himself. He’ll play along with this story, he’ll do whatever it is you think he needs to do. 

But he won’t let you leave him. 

“Fuck. I'm sorry, I wasn’t even awake! I need to get to the bottom of why I’m like this. The last Thing I want to do is hurt my ma-” he paused, swallowing nervously. “My most important friend”. 

You just nod, looking away as you cover up a bit more. “I’ll ask some of the other wasp species what they know…Maybe even a scorpion, seeing as they love to be in everyone's business” you half joked, wanting to lighten the mood. 

Izuku slowly stands back up, feeling guilty he scared you so bad. A good mate wouldn’t let you be scared of anything, most importantly themselves. He needs to fix this, find a way to get himself together and keep you beside him. 

“Let me make this up to you ok?” he starts, suddenly becoming jealous of imagining all the other species and possible mates alike that you’d have to talk to today. No. No he’ll take care of this. You should just stay here, rest, and cover yourself in more of his scent. 

“You should just rest up here, I’ll do the searching and deep diving ok? I think they’d be more accepting to talk to me anyway. You know, since they see humans as either mate material to constantly flirt with or a meal to devour”. 

You smile a bit, seeing how upset and worried your friend had become “Humans flirt back just as bad, and if I remember correctly, some of us humans eat bugs encased in candy…so I suppose we’re more alike than given credit for”. 

Fair point. But his decision still stands. “True, but this is the least I can do for you. Just let me do the research today, and you rest up, eat good, and maybe beat me with a stick when I get back” he joked, his chest warming when you smiled at him and laughed. 

“Alright, I guess. Just be careful and text me every bit of information you get ok? I want to help you out, you’re my best friend Izuku”. 

“Yeah, same here. I think I’d go crazy if anything happened to you” he said softly, beginning to itch from not being able to just wrap around you and smother himself in your scent. He needed to get up and go, before things get worse. 

Who knows what will happen if he gives in once again? 

(Hi! I hope you beans enjoy this! It was fun! -Mommabean) 

Hello! 😄👋🏻 how’s it going out there? this is- uhh- uh 🫥 we need help 😀 this is- uhh 🫥 we are counsellors at hackett’s 🤔 quarry 🤔 summer camp 😄👍🏻 and there’s been a horrible accident 😰 - attack - some stuffs. bad. here. 😬 we need your help 😀🤲🏻 there is a swarm 🐝 of bears 🐻😐 and they are evvverrryywhere 🫠 there’s these hunters too 😳 they seem to be shooting at the bears 🧐 but also at us? 🤨 um which is not good 🫡❌ and a few of our friends are hurt 😔 and um we’re in desperate need of help 😀 so please- imeantheres VICIOUS 👹 BEARS 🐻❗️and uhhh 🫥 weeee don’t know what to do 🙃 so please? 😇😭 come help us 🙏🏻 SOS 🆘 this is an emergency 🚨 S- Savee ourr ship? 🤔🚢 comee onn down 🤪🤩 pleasehelpus 😀👍🏻

Message to fellow USA LGBT+ users:

I want you to know that no matter what happens after November 5th, you are loved and you are wanted.

If the angry orange gets into office and our country goes to hell?

All we can do is put on the best smile that we can and lie our asses off if it means we get to live another day.

Just know that doing so doesn't make you any less of who YOU choose to be.

Please be stay safe, and again, know that you are loved. 💖

Snippets of an apocalypse spent with you

Pairing: Rick Grimes x fem reader

Summary: Liking Rick Grimes is not an easy task. Yet loving him comes as naturally as breathing. How you came to see the ugly parts of Rick Grimes, and why that made the good parts more appealing.

Warnings: some slight suicidal thoughts, reader briefly thinks of giving up

Word count: 2.8k

Rick Grimes explodes into the scenes of your life with blaring car alarms and a somewhat stunted family reunion. At first, you had thought nothing of the man, slipping back into the shelter of your own tent once your curiosity of the situation was sated.

It quickly becomes apparent however, that he is not like so many of the others that occupy the shoddily set up quarry campsite. Because Rick Grimes is brave. He is assertive yet still kind and he is a born leader. Yet Rick Grimes is naive, and it is for that reason you find him annoying. He is too soft, he will get himself killed soon enough.

Except that he doesn’t. Not yet. Not even when the CDC had been a complete disaster, and not when he is coordinating searches for a missing Sophia. You did not like children. There was not a maternal bone or inclination in your body. That didn’t stop the sharp stab of empathetic agony that burned in your chest every time you looked at Carol. Nor did it stop you from volunteering to search, under Rick’s command, for a child you knew was already dead. Not that you were heartless enough to say so, nor could you find the energy to rebuff the former officer’s determination. Because for a few moments as his confident gaze met yours, you had believed he would find the lost child too.

Rick is the one who shoots her. Mouth set in a grim line as Carol’s wails of anguish filled the air. Maybe that's when it starts, or maybe it's when he finds out Lori is pregnant. Pregnant with a baby that was incredibly unlikely to be hers.

Time had become all but meaningless, it is only Lori's symptoms that let you estimate how much time has passed since the farm. Morale was incredibly low and everyone was getting snippy with each other. Yet miraculously Rick continued to soldier on, bearing the weight of fear, discontent and even flat out vitriol on his shoulders.

Glenn and Daryl have become a part of the group's pillars, doing their best to alleviate some of the pressure that has unfairly been piled onto Rick. But three months of having no permanent shelter, of living on scraps and small rations was beginning to overpower the three.

You cannot hunt. Have no talent for organising or rallying the group but you would not be useless. You take longer watches, always bookending Rick or Daryl forcing the two to sleep much longer then they had been. The two of them loudly voice their protestations, but you are not moved. Though you do have to become more and more inventive in your endeavour to get Rick to just go the fuck to sleep. You must have endured over a hundred disappointed dad gazes and lectures before he realises you will not relent.

Runs become a bi-weekly activity, and once it becomes apparent you are quiet, fast and listen to instructions well you become one of the main providers.

You and Rick still don't really talk, only quietly discussing future plans and the state of provisions. Which in itself throws you for a massive loop when you begin to get included in those talks. You do, however, talk to his kid. Carl, despite his protestations that he isn't, truly is still a child. All it takes is a scavenged set of Batman detective comics, in an attempt to alleviate Lori's burden, that you had foolishly admitted to reading and the kid begins to stick to you like a bad smell. Apparently, the combined act of a gift and confirmation that you liked superheroes was enough to grant you the spot of number one coolest adult and advisor.

In an annoying trend, the old adage like father like son continues to prove itself. A run had gone south, a horde of walkers materialising from what seemed like thin air, and it is only your quick thinking and improving skills with a knife that keep Rick from becoming walker chow.

To your dismay, this cements you somewhere between Glenn and Daryl in Rick's hierarchy of trustworthy advisors. It also apparently means you are no longer acquaintances brought together by fucked up circumstances, but friends.

The transition is seamless and unspoken. Just as it is when you begin to stand at Rick's 6, watching his back near 24/7. So where Carl has become your shadow, you have become Rick's.

You still don't like kids. Or Rick.

There was no joy when he finally cracked. No vindication to be had in a dead wife and a traumatised child. Only sour sorrow and unsure glances. Because Rick was a time bomb, and one you were not so keen to indulge in. The rest of the group had made poor attempts, walking on eggshells in his presence before backing off to give him some space.

You hadn't. The resulting screaming match that had erupted after you had chased him down when he hadn't made it back to the prison had been legendary. To this day you couldn't entirely remember what you had yelled, only that it had been purposefully hurtful. Rick hadn't gotten a chance to retaliate, the commotion drawing an alarming amount of walkers.

You moved to flank Rick's side, protecting his blindspots without him having to ask. The two of you worked like a well-oiled machine. You blatantly ignored the steps you had taken that would have gotten you killed had Rick not been there, because your body had just moved on instinct, knowing that he would have your back.

By the end of the skirmish, you were panting and wiping walker blood off your face with a grimace. As the adrenaline settled and your chest heaved for oxygen you were quick to search for Rick.

"Are you ok?!" the desperation in your tone took both of you by surprise, even more when you move to check his person and he did not stop you.

The walk back was deafeningly silent, but there seemed to be a newly formed mutual sense of understanding and begrudging trust. Rick had not completely gathered his wits, but he was no longer walking around and talking to the dead anymore. On the downside Rick had begun to actively seek you out.

You learn how he met Lori, how they were having problems, and how Shane had not always been crazy. In turn, you decide it's only fair to offer some tidbits in exchange. Your parents, your last partner, job, favourite colour and more.

The nights he can't speak, no way to articulate his thoughts into words, the two of you just sit silently. The faint growl of walkers and Judith's soft babbles the only noise present.

If one night you fall asleep on his shoulder then neither of you bring it up again.

It isn't until people begin to come to you in order to find Rick that you realise something is up. The smug, knowing glances that Carol keeps throwing you don't help either. Firmly you push down any meanings behind the gestures. Maybe you should ask Rick about it.

You were no stranger to hunger. Hunger was an old acquaintance, one that had crept up on you once more following the fall of the prison. You had vowed that if you ever saw Daryl again you would give him anything he wanted for the rest of your life.

You could not recall how many days had passed since the Governor's attack. Since the screams of fear had filled the air as walkers burst through the gates and into the former safe haven. Since you had rushed through corridors and sprays of gunfire, drowning out the stench of blood and death surrounding you. Judith had been the only thing on your mind as your legs pumped desperately, weaving and doing through the chaotic fray.

But you had been too late. Judith was dead. You were alone. Starving, beyond exhausted and struggling to continue on. Sleep rarely came, with no one to watch your back it had become near impossible to rest alone, and the few hours you could grasp were often tainted with horrific nightmares. More than once you had awoken shaking and with a scream dying on your lips, images of your friends... your family being torn to pieces as you helplessly watched on plaguing your every hour.

Still, you do not give up, will not give up. Not when the depths of your traitorous mind whisper words of hope into your consciousness. Not when they whisper that Rick is still alive. You hate that that is what keeps you going over everything else.

Your breath was coming in increasingly shallow gasps, it is only the solid presence of the stone wall behind you that has kept your upper torso vertical. Her vision is blurry, marred by an accumulation of sweat, blood and tears. You know you are a sitting duck, sequestered in the unfortified pharmacy.

Simply put. You were fucked. Your head was pounding, a concussion gained from carelessly slipping down the stairs. The result of assuming the body lying motionlessly in the corner had already been dispatched. Daryl would have had your hide for such a rookie error.

Cradling your throbbing right wrist to your chest you attempt to stand, only to immeidately become overwhelmed with a wave of nausea and pain. Your situation was so pitiful you could have let out a laugh if you knew it wouldnt hurt.

You had survived the shitshow at the CDC, the overwhelming horde at the farm, eight months on the move with no shelter and limited food, the fall of the prison and so much more. Yet here you were, lying alone, taken out by a hand on the ankle and a flight of stairs.

Maybe it was better this way. No more scavenging, no more pain, no more exhaustion. Your eyes briefly close in consideration, your family would likely never learn what happened to you. You could only hope they would stop looking, hope that they had already given up on you. That they are not too distraught in your absence, you never stop to entertain the fact that they themselves might be dead.

Daryl, Maggie, Glenn, Carol, Michonne... Rick. They were still alive. Because if they weren't then the past weeks of your life had been meaningless.

It is the sound of a door opening, carefully but still enough to make noise that makes the decision for you. The unmistakable approach of a human, not a walker has your eyes snapping open wildly, left hand clutching for your handgun and clicking off the safety.

There is no doubt in your mind that you are about as intimidating as a wet kitten, still, you persist even when your arm shakes with agony and exertion.

Eyes focusing as best they can, you wait until the intrusion of your pity party steps into your line of sight. It's a man with at least a head on you in height, he looks quite lean but neither of those things is what really catches your attention. He is clean and well-groomed. He is part of a community, one where bathing is clearly not an issue. Just before he can turn to see your slumped form you speak up.

"Turn around. Slowly. Hands where I can see them or I shoot." Luckily he complies, and you are quick to order his weapons to the floor and out of reach. Still, you do not lower your weapon, even when your shoulder burns from the strain.

"Listen you don't have to do this. I have a partner that will be arriving soon. You can come back with us." his words are not as pleading as you would have expected. He is calm, logical and there is no quaver to his voice.

"Yeah, cause that's a trustworthy offer" you scoffed, even as your arm could no longer hold itself up.

"Look, you need help-" he is interrupted by an incredibly familiar voice, a voice that has all the tension leaving your body in disbelief.

"Aaron, what's tha hold..." his words too trail off to a halt as he spots the presence of the person slumped against the wall. He is quick to raise his crossbow with aim you know to be true. Given that you are covered head to toe in grime you don't begrudge him for his lack of recognition. Instead you simply let an insane smile cover your face with a laugh.

"Good to see you too Daryl, been a while hasn't it?" The next moments pass in a blur, literally and metaphorically. Your sobs make it had to see anything and your mind had well and truly shut itself off by the time you are being dragged to the exit.

There was a commotion at the gates. Daryl and Aaron had returned, and with a new arrival, it seemed. Rick let out a sigh, resigned to the fact he would have to take the stranger to Deanna to decide their fate. He can't help but to imagine you punching him on the arm good-naturedly, a mischievous grin covering your face as you discuss the possibility of hazing any 'newbies'. His smile is quick to dim, however, as he quickly remembers that you are no longer by his side to do so. Two months without you ad the lack of your presence still aches like a phantom limb. Vaguely he recognises that he has become alarmingly codpendent on his shadow. That still does not change the way he turns to gain your opinion or accidentally leaves himself open because you are not there to pick up his slack.

He makes his way over to the idly gossiping group that had yet to disperse. Mistrust was rampant among the Alexandrians and his own group so when he is told the woman had been hauled off to get medical assistance by Daryl personally he can't help but to raise a brow in intrigue.

Spinning on his heel the former sheriff slowly ambles towards the clinic. He is intercepted by an almost frantic Daryl whose words have Rick breaking into a sprint before his brain catches up to his body's actions.

Hope blooms in his chest as his tongue readies itself to call your name. He is breathing heavily and probably looks half-crazed as he throws the clinic door open with excessive force. Rick can't find it in himself to care at the moment though. Because sat across from him, looking up to take in the commotion is a dirtied, injured, stitched up, but alive you.

It is the slamming of a door that heralds his arrival. For a split second he is younger, arriving alongside a whooping Glenn and you are silently watching from afar.

Unlike the first instance of Rick bursting into your life, he is quick to close the distance, eyes widened comically and hovering hands seemingly unsure what to do.

It is you that breaks the hesitant silence, offering an embarrassingly soft smile that has Daryl making an unappreciative suggestive face behind Rick's back. "Quite the fancy home you found yourself here cowboy, think you can fit one more."

"It isn't home" Rick's words are terse, almost cutting off the end of your sentence. Your smile falls slightly as you lean away a little, but Rick doesn't stop there. "It's not home. Not without you."

As his words sink in your throat runs dry, and a wounded wheeze leaves your chest at the implications of his words. At the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes as he stares at you as if you are the most precious thing he has ever laid eyes upon. For a second you swear his eyes dart down to your lips, an action that has your tongue nervously darting out to coat the sudden dryness.

It isn't until Daryl lets out an amused fake cough that you spring apart from each other's magnetic gaze. Getting a quick affirmation from Denise you shoulder your way out of the clinic, avoiding eye contact with everybody and ignoring the heat of your cheeks.

Silence reigns behind you as you realise nobody has moved. So with a deep breath out you quickly turn back before you can chicken out. Your eyes make contact with Rick's once more and you scowl, "you coming or what, can't find a home without my cowboy." You don't stay to see his reaction, spinning once more whilst flipping off a snickering Daryl.

Your scowl is quick to morph into a small smile however, at the sound of heavy steps quickly catching up to you. An arm brushes slightly against yours and just as you exit the clinic you make the decision. Slowly you entwine your fingers with his, gaze determinedly staying on the path ahead. On the future.