An anonymous person requested that I write a story where Lily and James are childhood best friends that turn into teenage lovers so I took the liberty to rewrite The Prince’s Tale, where James Potter replaces Serverus Snape. READ ON FF
They met in a sunlit and virtually deserted playground. A single huge chimney dominated the skyline, common for a working town like Cokeworth. A boy was playing on the slide alone, surfing it on his belly. His black hair was curly and long enough that it fell over his square shaped glasses. He only looked at his playground companions once or twice.
Sequel to Clone's Reacting to S/O risking their life for them:
TW: blood, major injury, death
(Already established relationships)
The battle had been a success in the eyes of the republic, but from Rex’s point of view, it was the biggest failure in his military career. Why was it a failure? Because you had been shot, and you were unconscious in the medical bay, not allowed any visitors. He’d only left the infirmary once, and that was because both the Commander and the General had ordered him to get a shower and something to eat. Other than that, he could be found on a bench outside the infirmary or pacing to and fro in front of the door. He didn’t try to sleep no matter how exhausted he was. He knew exactly what he’d see. He’d see you getting shot and falling to the ground.
It had been a full 24 hours, which wouldn’t bother him if troopers hadn’t already been released. They all gave him respectful nods, before shuffling off.
“Captain, you need to take care of yourself, or you’ll be the next one in.” Kix told him, sitting beside him and offering him a cup of caf. Rex didn’t respond other than a thankful nod as he sipped his caf. The medic sighed, sipping his own cup.
“I’ll be right back.” With that, the medic got up and entered the medical bay. Then, Rex was alone, but not for long. Minutes later, Kix came back out.
“Captain, Miss (Y/L/N) has been cleared for visitors.” He informed with a smirk. The captain had never perked up so quickly.
As he quickly walked past Kix, he breathed out a, “Thank you, brother.”
When he came up on you, he took every little detail in. The med droid presumably disposed of your destroyed uniform, as you were in a pale blue hospital gown; There was a fresh pair folded on the table. When he looked at you, his heart hurt: there was an IV taped in your arm, it didn’t look like they had brushed your hair(he decided that, when he gently picked a leaf out), the hospital gown was too big- definitely made his brothers, not an engineer from Coruscant, and, lastly, you skin was too pale for his liking, almost taking on a gray tone.
The weary Captain set his helmet down on the table before sitting in the chair beside you. He took your hand ever so gently, almost afraid it’d break if he touched it. Your hand was cold, and all he wanted in that moment was for you to be warm.
Rex had spent so long wanted to get in, that he hadn’t actually thought about what he’d do once he was here. So, he just started talking as if you’d talk back. “Kriff, (Y/N), you shouldn’t have done that. You’re too important. It should have been me. You shouldn’t have even been there.”
Once started, he couldn’t start. “(Y/N), I watched you go down, and I’ve never felt so helpless. I couldn’t even ease your pain. I feel so guilty, so guilty that you had to hurt that way. That’s not your place. We were made so people like you wouldn’t have to know war. We were made to be disposable. I was so scared, still so scared. The thought of losing you, was enough to make me wanna quit fighting.“
Through all this, he didn’t realize you had stirred. “Rex, if I ever hear you say you’re disposable again, I’ll personally slap some sense into you. Don’t you ever stop fighting. Ever. Me alive or not. Now, come here and kiss me so you’ll feel better.”
"Shouldn’t I be making you feel better?” Rex laughed. You always had that effect on him: making him laugh when he thought he couldn’t.
“I’m so hyped up on pain meds, I can’t feel a thing. I feel GREAT.”
It just wasn’t fair. You traipsed into his life and made him fall in love with you so quickly, and now you were about to leave him. Just as quickly.
You had been correct in saying that it was going to be hard to get to you. It was near impossible. The tank movers moved what they could, but it was a slow and tedious process. They used geo-scanners to try to figure out which pieces to move, and eventually the rubble became a hole and the tank movers had to be removed. From there it was manual labor. Every single trooper wanted to find you; you had quickly become a favorite among them from the time you had started. Plo Koon lifted larger rocks with the force. With every piece of debris cleared without you under it, Wolffe lost hope.
“We found her! We need some help over here!” After hearing that, every ounce of hope that had him came back. He climbed through the rubble, jumping over some until he reached the amassed group of brothers.
“Move! Let the commander through!” Was shouted among the crowd as Wolffe pushed his way to the front. Then, he saw you. You appeared to be unconscious, but he could see how the tan dirt of the planet clung to your skin, creating a muddy brown where it clotted with some blood coming out of your hairline. He slid down the incline of the wreckage and down to you.
“Well, don’t just stand there like a bunch of droids! Someone get down here and help me!” He commanded, looking up as four troopers scrambled down to him. “Ok, lift the piece off her legs, and I will pull her out.”
The soldiers executed it flawlessly, and within ten minutes, Plo Koon had used the force to lift you out and to a medic. Wolffe was hot on the medic’s heels. Another forty-five minutes later, you had been loaded on a stretcher and the Jedi Cruiser: Triumphant. The commander had sat outside the medical bay anxiously waiting for another hour.
“Commander, (y/n) is awake if you’d like to come in.” He didn’t even pay attention to who said it, but he was up and striding into the room you were in. You looked better this time; they’d atleast wiped the dust and blood off your face.
“How do you feel?” Was all Wolffe could think to say. You looked up to him and smiled (he was so happy to see that smile in person again.)
“Well, besides a headache, my legs hurting, and the shallow breathing: I feel fine. Apparently, my legs aren’t broken they’re just scraped up pretty bad and the headache’s because of the oxygen deprivation. My breathing is because all the sand and dust I inhaled while I was down there. I’m paraphrasing the med droids words. I’ll be back to work in a few days.” He noticed how you sounded almost chipper as you explained. Then, his heart broke when you started coughing. He quickly brought you a bottle of water. “Another side effect of the dust in my lungs. I’m fine, really.”
His mouth was set in a firm line before he stated, “No. You’re not fine.”
“Wolff-” you started, but he interrupted. You could tell he wasn’t angry at you, per say, but he was definitely not happy.
“(Y/N), you’re not fine! You can’t breath and you were an hour away from losing your legs. Two hours away from suffocation! (Y/N), when I your transmission went dead, I assumed the worst. I didn’t expect to find you, I was expecting to find a body.”
You shrunk away from him, not wanting to meet his gaze. When he finally looked at you, his voices softened as he flopped on the bed, beside your legs back facing you.
“I’m sorry. I was just scared. And angry. Angry for letting you go in. Scared I was gonna lose you. Even if you don’t believe it, you’re too good for me. You’re funny, smart, kind, caring, fierce when you need to be, and you love me. I’m not ready to let you go yet. (Y/N), please, don’t do something like that again. We might not be fast enough next time.” He confessed, wiping his face with his hands. You sat up and wrapped your arms around him from behind.
“Don’t worry, I’m not planning on leaving you any time soon.”
He knew it; he knew this was going to happen. The hallway was a nightmare: covered in ash from the explosion and blood- that was from you. He’d long given up of his medical expertise, he now resorted to holding a wad of bandages against the wound, in a desperate attempt to help. He pulled you up into his lap, holding your body against his, frantically calling for help.
“(Y/N)? You’re gonna be fine. They’re gonna find us, and you’ll get real medical treatment. It’ll be fine.“ He muttered, rocking you back and forth. Kix had never felt so useless. The nervous energy in his stomach had turned to despair. He’d taken his helmet off so he could press his back to the wall, his blaster had been discarded to the far right; he was only concerned with you.
To be truthful, he was in denial. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew you had lost too much blood, you weren’t gonna make it. It didn’t take a medic to tell that your skin wasn’t supposed to be that grey and that your skin shouldn’t be that cold to the touch. He just tried to pass it off as the lighting and pull you a bit closer to him to warm you up. In all actuality, you’re heart failed a few hours ago. He was crying and just didn’t realize it, desperately holding gauze against a wound that had long stopped bleeding.
He couldn’t help it, his mind knew you were gone but his heart couldn’t accept it. So there he sat, cradling your body that was growing colder, whispering ‘I-Love-You’s and ‘it’ll-be-alright’s, and letting the silent tears plip into your hair.
When the rest of the 501st finally were able to answer his calls, they were taken aback at the sight: their medic desperately clinging to your limp body. When Kix looked up at him, he was choking back tears with an anguished expression. He pleaded with a hoarse voice for them to do something. None of them had ever heard a trooper sound so broken.
“Please! Help me!”
“(Y/N)! You gotta let go!” Fives ordered, swinging precariously from you grip. Your body was sliding forward toward the edge as you kept him from falling to his death.
“No.” You grunted in reply, gripping his wrist harder. Suddenly, the cliff’s edge shifted again. Y’all both knew what was going to happen moment before it actually did.
Suddenly you were weightless, but in a whirlwind Fives pulled you into his chest as you fell. Above the sound of the wind, he shouted, “I love you!”
Just as suddenly, the little breathe you had was pushed out of you as your fall halted. From your position tucked in the ARC troopers chest, you couldn’t see anything. You dared whisper: “Are we dead?”
Finally, you peeked out of his embrace to see you were floating back towards the ledge. The Jedi were forcing you back up!
Another few weightless moments later, the two of you were gently dropped to the ground with a thud and an ‘oomph’. Neither of y’all moved for a while, you stayed tucked in his arms. “I love you too.” You whispered back, finally.
Three hours later, once the excitement died down, Fives found you again, wrapped in a blanket and being illuminated by the purple hues of dusk.
“Bad things happen when you stare at me, Fives.” You giggled. He chuckled in response before plopping down beside you.
“I just can’t help it. It’s not my fault you’re gorgeous.” He chided back. Comfortable silence fell between you two as you rested your head against his shoulder. He quickly became serious.
“Why wouldn’t you let me go? You could have died.” He asked, taking your hand. You pulled away, but still grasped his hand. Looking down at the two intertwined hand, you smiled.
“I don’t know how many times I have to say it: Fives, I love you. I’m not gonna stop anytime soon. If I have to risk my life everyday for the rest of our lives, then I will. Us civilians, we have this saying: for better or for worse. I can’t just stop loving you when it gets dangerous.” You explained, only breaking your gaze of your hands to look up at him. He smiled and kissed you gently.
“I’ll just have to be more careful then.”
Requested by anon. Sorry for any Kix lovers. What?! Reader had a shattered clavicle and artery~ I couldn’t magically revive you!
Anyway, a new thing I’m gonna try to start doing: Up Next: Rex, Cody, Wolffe, and Hardcase reacting to reader asking them out.
Could you please write anything surrounding Claire attempting to hide her attraction towards Owen (bonus if she cracks and just kisses him 💗) pretty pleaseeee 💕
Nicky - I know this is old, but you are the best and deserve just the same. I hope you like this.
Claire Dearing lived her life with no regrets. She took calculated chances; she gambled cleverly, and she nearly always won. She was rarely in the business of second guessing or doubting herself - except for maybe right now, Claire mused nervously as she watched Owen Grady make his way across the ballroom toward her; two champagne flutes in hand and a devilish smirk on his face. Asking him to accompany her to Jurassic World’s glittering annual charity gala seemed to be a good idea at the time - albeit their shared history consisting of a singular disastrous date - but Claire was wondering what she’d let herself in for when Owen reached her, handing her a glass and tipping back his own, arm sliding round her waist.
After stumbling upon this blog more or less by accident but very welcomed, I figured it would be a good idea to browse around as I myself do try to write recreatively every so often. I’ve gone through maybe the first ten profiles, I figured I may as well do one myself.
A little of background, the place where I live is known to have one of the largest Vietnamese population in the country. You can find all sorts of different Asian food/markets/stores/etc just walking down the street. My high school where I’m a junior is predominantly Asian and Hispanic. Both my parents were born in Vietnam and came over around the time of the Vietnam War. My siblings and I, on the other hand, were both born and raised in America. I myself am still adjusting to the whole poc thing after having grown up with the average american culture on media.
Of course everyone has their own opinions, but I find that the saying “the grass is greener on the other side” to be very true to the way I think. As a nearly year round swimmer, my skin can get pretty darned tan pretty fast. I always liked whiter skin that wasn’t too white for myself but I recognize beauty in many shades. As for the rest of the body, I’ve always admired taller and slim figures for both females and males, being a nearly ridiculously skinny and short person for most of my life, but again, recognizing beauty in other shapes.
Maybe this part isn’t specifically related to my beauty standards but it does have to do with my appearance. I’ve been out in the sun for a long while now. As a kid, way before all this technology stuff came along, I was playing outside with my younger brother before I was going to school. I was in the pool every summer and began learning how to properly swim since about the summer after fifth grade (10/11 years old). I’ve been swimming on my high school team for three years now. Bottom line: I’m in a constant state of tan. It doesn’t bother me that much that I range from potato tan to dirt brown tan. However, people have been confusing me for non Vietnamese, while it is a little amusing to watch them guess, why does it matter? Vietnamese is just another label. Why not appreciate my skin color for the color it is? Seems to work for eyes pretty well regardless of whether the person is German or Korean or Brazilian or whatever.
In terms of american vs viet dress, I’ve always worn more american clothing. It’s a lot easier to find in good quantity and quality; many of the traditional Vietnamese ao dai dresses begin very flimsy. I have no problem with wearing traditional Viet but the main issue is that the only time i really do is for new year celebration which is usually late january-february, aka pretty cool, aka not the same tropical weather Vietnam normally has, for which ao dais were designed.
Dating and Relationships
I’m not big on dating. Never have and I don’t see myself being so for a while. Nonetheless, it doesn’t change the fact that my dad is a stickler for a sort of traditional setup where I end up with a respectable Vietnamese male. My mom, however, is a lot less restrictive, or she’s kept quiet about her expectations; I don’t exactly keep my relationship status and opinions on such a secret. As for friends, both my parents prefer people that are respectable and asian. They have to meet a certain criteria or else I start hearing something about my friends. Personally, my circle of close friends is largely based on the connection and experiences we’ve had with each other.
One of my favorite topics. Once upon a time, I was a picky, slow eater. Nowadays, I’m pretty open to what I’ll stomach. In terms of what I normally eat, it’s almost always home cooked for health reasons, but mainly Vietnamese based. I’m used to this diet, but I was rather shocked when I found out a former classmate had never eaten fast food until almost high school and a current friend of mine eats out nearly every weekend with her family; too each his own. Nearly every meal I have will have rice or rice noodles. Traditionally, that’s what constituted most dishes. Some popular dishes: pho (chicken/beef noodle soup), fried rice with mixed vegetables/meat/cilantro/green onion, spring rolls (noodles, greens, meats, and some other stuff wrapped in rice wrappers), egg rolls (more or less the same as spring rolls without the greens and fried). Of course, if you go into a Vietnamese/Asian restaurant, you’ll have a heckuva lot more variety. Sometimes, my mom or dad will whip up something different. Normally, dad does a stew sort of thing. I’m pretty sure the recipes vary or are a family bc I’ve almost never seen the same stew in a restaurant. Mom will either go for another viet dish we normally don’t eat or something less Asian like pasta. However, when we celebrate Thanksgiving, we go for the traditional turkey with potatoes, stuffing, cranberry sauce, gravy, corn, etc.
I’m pretty sure it varies by family, but there are very few holidays that my family will actually celebrate. From the previous section, there’s Thanksgiving, and as Roman Catholics, there’s also Christmas, which we smush together with (Jan 1st) New Year’s, and Easter. For birthdays, there’s a lot of us so we’ll throw one celebration for one bunch of people (ex: I’m mid september like my aunt and two cousins, so all four birthdays will be celebrated at once although each of us is actually a different day) unless the immediate family decides to have another celebration. The only other major holiday we celebrate is tet, or lunar new year, whatever. We celebrate with traditional tet and Vietnamese food and red envelopes of money (which when initially introduced to one of my English teachers, she thought the kids were presenting the money to the adults, hahaha). Out of the monthly american holidays, I feel that we mainly use the more significant ones, like mother’s and father’s day, as reasons to get the whole family together, something getting rarer with the growing children (the young generation ranges from the oldest who’s already 23ish to the youngest who’s a little over a year old).
As the children of first generation parents, I and many of my siblings and cousins first spoke Vietnamese before learning English at various points in our childhood. I started sometime around kindergarten (5/6 year old) but one of my younger cousin, a 3 year old, is already picking up on conversational English. As I became more immersed in the English language, I stopped speaking Vietnamese although I could still understand most of the adult table conversations at parties or when addressed to me directly. When I first got into high school, I wanted to take Vietnamese as my foreign language because I wanted to reconnect to my native language. My mom argued against it, saying that I could learn at home instead. Despite that, I’ve started picking it up again and speak Viet much more often compared to a few years ago.
Because of the high concentration of other Asians, especially Viets, where I live, I feel that I don’t have to deal with many misconceptions in person, being an introvert also helps with that.
Still, I would like to take the opportunity to address some common stereotypes and misconceptions.
First, the smart Asian.
(Unless otherwise specified, assume that the people I refer to here are Asian.)
Despite being at the top of class and sincerely enjoying and doing well in my math and science classes, I don’t flaunt it around friends. I honestly don’t think that I need to smart to have good friends and not all of my friends feel the same way as I do academically. Not all of my friends are as smart I am sometimes. I have a B average friend that made it to the decathlon team and I didn’t. She went on to wearing medals and going to state competition and doing very well there with the rest of the team while I was swimming. I have days where my brain doesn’t work with me and I can’t think straight. I have another friend, B/C average, and she hates history but she managed to score better than me on our benchmark final, not because I scored low, but because she scored high and we had the same teacher, same test. Maybe it’s a fluke but does it matter? It happened.
On the other hand, there’s another smart guy, top of the class, all AP classes, you know the type. He flaunts his smartness. I don’t talk to him personally, but I’ve heard him refer to the average people, even the above average people as “commoners”. Getting into top 20 of several hundred in our class and being nominated for almost every class he’s taken this year at the awards ceremony was “gg ez”. Just goes to show you that not every smart Asian is the same. Also, some things like smart being the same as nerdy and glasses is 100% not true.
Hot nerd =/= smart. Smart and nerdy are not mutually inclusive. A few things that really get on my nerves, especially at the latest assembly which was supposed to be focus on academics, ASB had a bunch of people dress up in the stereotypical nerd dress up (white top, glasses, suspenders, etc.) for a “flash mob” dance.
“Asians are bad drivers.”
Just. WhY???? We have to take the whole driver’s ed thing like everybody else. Some of the Asian people I know are perfectly fine drivers. I’ve seen bad drivers that aren’t Asians. Bad driving is a label earned, not given.
Sexy Asian ladies.
I’m sorry, but have you taken a good look at the rest of the human population???? Back to my beauty standards, I see beauty everywhere. Even if you can’t, at least understand that humans come in all sorts of shapes, colors, sizes. Not all Asian ladies have white skin and chi*ky eyes with the monolid, big ass boobs, and are skinny as frick. I’m tan as all hell in the summer; I don’t think I have eyes that are that small; I’ve been putting on weight; I don’t have curves. I have other friends that are also tanned, bigger than me, flat and no curves. I have friends that don’t tan, have curves and all that. Why care?
Another big topic. I haven’t been put down for identifying as Asian american yet and I’m not aware of any of my friends being put down for identifying as whatever it is, but self esteem is not solely based on that. Going to the smart Asian stereotype, yes, I have “Asian parents”. My mom was top of her class in Vietnam, she seems to expect the same from me. I’m not specially honored or anything when I have A average grades when other people would kill for that. Instead, I’m given a “good job, keep your grades like that” and a chewing out when anything drops to a B.
Sometimes, I will put in a lot of hard work for something big, academically, and the results don’t turn out as great as I was expected to get. I’m not given a “hey, i know you expected better, let’s try again”, I’m told “you need to do better, go work harder and do it again” or “you blew it this time, do you realize the consequences it can have on your future?” Sometimes, I don’t care about what happens, I just want to be appreciated for what I can do, and not what I can’t. I have friends who aren’t as academically talented and their parents give them hell for it. It stresses them out and makes them just want to quit. But I always let them know that they can come to me for help. I am more than willing to help and tutor.
I can’t begin to count how many times someone in my family has said sometime over the years “you’re so skinny, eat some more.” or “you’re so short, why don’t you put in more effort to grow taller?” or “you’re so tall now” or “you don’t look good in those clothes without a chest” (This is mainly from my mom who works in fashion, but it’s true because the size I am, it can be difficult to find nice fitting clothes.) I don’t let this bother me too much either, but there are still days where I wish I were taller, more curved, more athletically built. Some days, I will wish that I wasn’t so Asian looking or had the background and experiences that I do.
Things to see
I read an article awhile back about the roles of Asian males in tv and movies, particularly Hollywood ones. I would like to see more non traditional Asian male roles by less traditional looking males. Unless the story is literally based in Asian culture, don’t have the one cool ninja guy be Asian and everyone else is something else. What about the suave con man? Or gentlemanly football player? President/leader of a community club?
For the ladies, don’t make her the slut or concubine of the group. I like the idea of an angry but caring motherly figure for the dudes constantly getting in trouble. The kickass awesome chef sprouting sarcasm. What the heck, an Asian version of Ginny Weasley. Make her the leader instead of the follower. Melinda May, anyone?
We are not all that people think we are. We may have cultural differences with others, but we are also every bit as diverse.
Gryffindor: Bruised knuckles, shoulders with peeling sunburns, wind-tossed hair, cheeks red flushed with excitement, dried out lips, jagged nails, scraped knees and elbows, wide smiles that show teeth, light glowing off back muscles, pierced ear cartilage, water dripping off skin with goosebumps, sweat dripping down necks
Hufflepuff: Loose eyelashes on cheeks, dirt smeared on ankles, tan lines on legs, strong veins like webs on hands, disco lights reflected on skin, freckles splattered across arms, laughter behind hands, plant cells under fingernails, autumn leaves clinging to hair, arms stretched to reach upwards, glitter on eyelids, chest raised with breathe intake
Ravenclaw: Hastily pulled back hair, shaking fingers, bitten nails, raindrops hanging off eyelashes, under-eye bags from night discoveries, bright veins, sharp vertebrate, bitten lips tinted red, mismatched socks slouching low on calves, proud though small grins, careful footsteps, quiet whispers, cautious hand movements that are oddly graceful
Slytherin: Stretched muscles, trembling legs, curious stares from across the hall, lips moving without actually talking, drenched hair, scribbled ink on forearms, scratches on collarbones, pruned fingers, quick and uneven footsteps trying to avoid creaky stairs, long fingers, sunburned ears, water patterns against skin
I’m going to paint the entire base with a cote of brown. That way, if any flocking is a bit thin, brown earth will show beneath. I used to paint green base cotes, but I’ve found the brown looks more natural.
I’ve also painted the stones grey. You can just as easily use black, or brown even. The key as that you drybrush through the same color family.
I’ve drybrushed the dirt parts up through tan. Actually not that happy with how it turned, but it’ll do. I’ve also done the stones through grey.
Final paint bits are a drybrush of brown around the base if the building. It’s important to so this step after you’ve done the base, so that the dirt relates to the ground. If I did it ahead of time, the dirt would be uneven around the foundation.
Also, I washed the roof in with the watered down Liquitex Raw Umber. Now it’s toned down, rather than being so blonde. Also, since everything else has been washed in brown, it brings everything into the same family, everything looks as if it belongs with each other.
The night was warm, unusual for early Spring. Except when the wind blew, sending a chill through the area that spoke of a storm yet to come. Though no storm-clouds hung overhead. Allowing for a clear view of the sparkling stars blanketing the heavens above.
The nocturnal animals and insects in the forest below were going about their usual routine. Gathering food, hunting, and making the casual noises that went along with their nightly chatter. That is until something caused them alarm. In unison the forest fell silent, an eerie sort of quiet that either foretold of a frightening predator in the area, or a natural disaster yet to occur.
One of the stars glinting in the night-sky seemed to be glowing brighter than the rest. No.. it wasn’t glowing brighter perse.. it was getting bigger, moving, drawing closer.
Shooting stars were not an entirely abnormal occurrence, but it was rare to see them moving that quickly, with a trajectory that seemed to be headed for the area below. Maybe it wasn’t a falling star, maybe it was a meteor? And the animals of the forest had sensed it.
In tandem the animals in the trees bolted; flying, or scurrying as fast as they could. While the ground dwelling fauna followed suit, rushing away from a specific group of trees, trying to clear the distance and find somewhere safe to hunker down.
The meteor shot through the atmosphere, and crashed through the tree tops, decimating an area the size of a city block as it collided with the ground. Its impact caused a bright white light to blast through the forest, along with an earthquake-like rumble that shook the ground.
Silence descended again, except for the cracking and falling of tree branches at the edges of the massive crater created by the collision. But this was no meteor. Laying at the bottom of the crater was a male with short dark brown hair, dressed in a suit and tie, and a dirt-covered tan trenchcoat.
Info: When Daryl returns from the santuary, he showers with reader
Warnings: swearing ?
After Negans brutal attack on two of our own, I left to The Hilltop with Maggie. We were on our way there until Negans group cut us off, she was in bad shape. As if it wasn’t bad enough, her husband was brutally slaughtered before her own eyes. She saw every gory bit, brains and eye ball falling out of its socket, and then Negan bragged about it. He swung Lucille in front of us all, laughing, smiling and cracking jokes. It was rough for everyone, even if I wasn’t too close to either of them.
After everything, Negan took Daryl, my fiancé. Yeah, he punched Negan, but the asshole deserved it and so much more. Everyday I looked at my ring, hoping he’d come back and alive. Jesus left to kill Negan, he said it was to save Daryl but that was just so I wouldn’t be skeptical on him going. Maggie and I had grown fairly close with Jesus over this past week or so. I was pulled from my thoughts at the sound of a motorcycle rumbling. I must’ve lost my mind hearing that. Dwight never came to The Hilltop as far as I was told, either way, I’d hear trucks also. But this, this was just a bike. I wanted it to be Daryl, I really did. I looked out there and then to Maggie, she was the other person on watch duty with me today.
“Lauren” Maggie said.
“Daryl, is-is that Daryl?” I struggled to speak.
My words got caught in my throat. Tears well into my eyes. I see him, he was in a different, new outfit. His hair flew back to reveal a dirtied face. Jesus rode behind him, he held his chest as Daryl rolled up to the gates. I hurried down the ladder to open the gates and let them in. Jesus got off and I hugged him, thanking him without any words as I didn’t have them at the moment.
As Daryl got off his bike I looked at him. I walked close to see him but I couldn’t help but touch him. I wrapped my arms around him and he hugged back weakly. He didn’t look up at me, his dark brown hair hung in front of his face blocking any view I had of it.
“Show him to a shower and I’ll leave new clothes for him in your room” Jesus whispered in my ear, a hand on my shoulder.
I turned to him with a soft smile and nodded. He gave me a smile and a nod before leaving to the main house. I grabbed Daryl’s hand and led him to a shower.
I turned it on for him, testing the water on my own arm for him. He still hadn’t said a word but I didn’t want to pry.
“You’re towel is here and I’ll be right in that room I showed you when you’re done” I said looking at his slumped body.
I turned to the door to leave. I was hesitant to leave him alone in this state. “Stay” he grumbled his first words.
I turned to him with raised brows, I didn’t expect that.
“You sure?” I ask.
“Of course I am” Daryl said cockily.
He walked to me and kissed me. I felt something odd and pulled back, he had a scab on his lip. Daryl pulled off my shirt for me, trying to get me to forget his lip. He undressed me and I undressed him before we stepped in the shower. I made sure he got to the water before me as he needed it much more.
I poured a dollop of shampoo into my hand and scrubbed at his head, his back to me. The soap foamed and I knew it was working.
“Turn” I said.
He turned. His head tilted back and I rinsed his hair he best I could. There was a lot of tip toeing and stretching to do so. As he tilted his face to look at me, I got a better look at him. The scab on his lip had a faint yellow bruise around it. Under his eye was purple and yellow and his cheek had a scab with bruising. I ran my fingers over the marks gently, cleaning away the layer of dirt that had built up on his face.
“What’d they do to you?” I whisper sadly.
“Don’t matter. I’m here now” Daryl said.
He didn’t like me worrying about him or lingering on sad things. He didn’t like the fact that I cared so much for him, care was something new to him. To give and receive.
I ran my hands down his chest and back, watching the dirt leave him, his tan skin was back. He went to turn off the shower.
“Don’t. I still need to shower” I say.
“I can wait, help ya like ya did to me” Daryl says.
“I got it. You change, rest up” I tell him.
“Okay, I love you” he said and kissed my head, his hands held my face firmly. He left the shower and that’s when I lost it. I cried and cried. I could only imagine what they did to him, and that could’ve been the best outcome. I thought about him hurting and I didn’t like it, not at all. Not the man I loved so much. -break-As I walked down the hall with my towel around me, I peeked inside the room we were given. Daryl stood in front of a full length mirror buttoning up his shirt. I smiled at him. He was quiet as he did so, taking his time trying to minimize the amount of fumbling with his fingertips. I think he felt my presence when he turned to me and smiled.
I walked in and got dressed myself before taking a place in between his legs as he sat on the bed. I looked down at him, his hair was damp and sticking to his forehead. I moved it back and kissed him.
“I love you so much, not a day went by without me worrying about you. You had me so god damn scared you asshole” I said into the top of his head. He held my hips to me, his face was to my chest.
“Not a day went by where I thought, I regret no marrying Lauren before I die” My heart stopped. Marrying? Me? I could feel his breathing speed up, it was shallower. He was nervous.
“Like, how dare I die on her without her knowing I didn’t have a ring on my finger. That my dreams of calling her my wife, never came true. So, marry me. Right now”
“Daryl” I whispered in surprise.
“No crowds, no vows, no fancy outfits. Just me, you, and these rings"
Could you perhaps talk more about brownface in the 100? Whenever i try to talk about alycia's brownface i just cut off. People keep telling me she's just covered in dirt & tanned. But if you see actual photos of the actress she's super pale yet people choose the picture where she has a fake tan to justify this. She looks latina & that a far cry since she's white.
Ok so here’s Alycia Debnam Carey without a tan
Here’s Alycia on the show
fake tan appriopriative facial markings yep this is brownface.
Honestly the “dirty” comment is something you see lots of times brought up when discussions of fake tans are brought up. it is reflective of the dirty stereotypes often slapped on PoC like “dirty Mexican” its insulting to have shows like the 100 continually using brownface like this just so they can further their white girls ruling fantasy.
You woke up your eyes adjusting to a bright light and your
heart racing erratically in your ears. You sat up pushing away from hot ground.
You looked at your wrist feeling your heart quicken.
“No…no no…” You looked around in the tan dirt for the
bracelet that was missing, “No…dammit!”
You found it in pieces…You picked it up slowly as you began
to shake. This couldn’t be happening. You had a baby…you needed to be home. You
looked around the dessert as you let out a scream.
Elain sat in the cell tapping her heel up and down waiting.
She hated waiting. Finally she looked up at the camera, “Whatever you think you’re
going to change, think again.”
Len let out a sigh glancing over to Sarah who was holding
his daughter, “How do I stop her…from becoming her?”
Sarah looked at him, “Leonard…I don’t have those kind of
answers. I can only tell you that you have a beautiful baby girl who needs you
“I’m not Y/N…I don’t know how to do this…” He took Elain
from her when she held her out to him.
“You think she did?” Sarah smirked at how well he supported
her, how his arms wrapped around her protectively, “She was an orphan, raised
by god knows what type of future warden. You at least had a parent to strive
not to be like.”
He smirked a little, “I’ve never thought about it like that.”
Sarah smiled at him touching his arm, “You’re a good father,
“Am I?” He looked back to the screen as Mick walked into the
cell block, “I’m letting the man who killed my daughter interrogate her.”
Mick walked slowly around the cell. He stopped at the door
leaning against it looking at Elain, “How’s the head?”
Elain glared at him, “I’m sure you don’t care about my wellbeing.”
“That’s not true.” Mick stared at her through the glass, “I
“…” She smiled after a moment, “Little…me…”
“You’re pretty stinkin cute, it’s hard not to like you.” He
rolled his eyes looking away.
She stared at him for a while longer, “Apparently you lined
this thing with dark matter…”
“Sure…if that’s what you call it. Haircut and Stein took
care of it for you.” He pushed off the door and turned looking at her fully, “Where’s
“I don’t know.” She stood up looking at him, “Ask again, it’ll
be the same answer.”
“What do you want?” Mick watched her move carefully toward
“She needs to be erased.” Elain made eye contact with him.
It was enough to get him to shift his weight.
He smirked, “Your got your dad’s eyes…he’s a master at that
icy stare you’re pulling on me right now, which means I’m immune. I don’t
listen to him either. Why are you here?”
“To erase her.” She crossed her arms repeating herself.
“Why are you really here?” He stared down at her when she
stopped in front of the door.
“I told you…”
“I heard you, I just don’t believe you.” He interrupted her. Mick’s senses were on
high alert when Elain’s eyes narrowed on him, “The council has more to worry
about then a girl who can jump through time. What’s your real mission?”
“To erase…” She started again.
“Try again.” He interrupted again.
“What do you want from me?” She let her arms drop to her
sides as her fist balled up, “I can’t answer your questions.”
“You can…you just have to fight past the reconditioning.” He
told her flatly, “You won’t be going anywhere until you do.”
Len felt his heart sink as he watched her slam her fist into
the glass. Mick had convinced him that this would be the only way to find you
and save her while keeping little Elain safe. He was beginning to have some
Rip walked over to him, “How are you doing?”
“I…have lost Y/N twice and I have no idea how to raise a
young girl on my own…despite having raised my sister mostly.” He glanced at
him, “Teaching your kid sister to pick locks is probably not great material for
your kid daughter.”
“Well no…but it is a useful tool.” Rip told him putting his hands into his
“Can’t argue that.” Len sighed again, “What’s our next step?”
Rip took in a breath, “I want to look for Y/N, and I have
Gideon searching through everything…”
“But…” Len looked at him feeling a sick sensation fill his
“But we are being hunted…” Rip looked at him, “We have to do
what’s safe for everyone…and safe for Elain.”
Len nodded slowly, “Where can we go that we’ll be safe?”
“I have an idea in mind. It should give us enough time to
hopefully come up with a plan. One that will protect your daughter and find
Y/N.” Rip patted him on the shoulder, “I just want you to know…that I hope Mick
gets through to her.”
“…Mick…for as violent as he is…” Len looked at Rip, “He can
see people for what they really are. He can still see the real Elain…So I have
to believe she’s still in there.”
Mick looked at Elain as she paced back and forth. He’d been
questioning her with the same questions over and over for an hour now, “Where’s
“I don’t…” She looked up at the ceiling letting out a long
sigh as she rubbed her neck, “know…”
“What do you want?” He walked around the cell as she sat
down on the bench.
“I just…can you stop…” She looked at him, “You’re giving me
“Good…means your subconscious is trying to help you
remember.” He smirked, “Why are you really here?”
“To distract you.” She shrugged throwing up her hands before
leaning back against the wall, “Is that what you want to hear?”
“What’s your real mission?” He said quietly never taking his
eyes off of her.
She sighed shutting her eyes, “I just…I just want to go home…”
He took a deep breath in then let it out slowly before
starting again, “Where’s your mother?”
You walked into the town stumbling. You were so thirsty. You
didn’t know how long you had walked. You just knew that you couldn’t home. You
kept thinking of Len but it didn’t seem to be working. If the trend kept he’d
be here…you just didn’t know where here was.
“Please find me…” You whispered as you looked around the old
town dread filling you up, “…if you’re out here Len…come find me.”
It was hot. So hot. The sun seemed to be beating down even more then usual. I hated the south west. The air was sticky and almost impossible to breath. The truck has no AC and there was no way I was going to sit in the cabin with the rest of the group.
I sat in the bed with 10k. The breeze hardly helped. I stripped off as much as I could, sitting in shorts and a tank top. My tanned dirt covered skin seemed to be hot to the touch.
“We need to stop…” Warren said looking at the rest of the group. Everyone seemed to be in some sort of heat stroke daze.
“You got that right.” Doc mumbled as he leaned against the window.
FILL IN THE BELOW CATEGORIES WITH 3 - 5 THINGS THAT YOUR CHARACTER CAN BE IDENTIFIED BY. REPOST & TAG AWAY.
EMOTIONS & FEELINGS.
overwhelming and addictive love
that heavy kind of dejection you can actually feel in your stomach
humanity at its rawest, instinctual level
that orange or pinkish hue of sunrise and sunset
the bright canary yellow of his merc
the black you’re met with when you press your eyes so tightly shut it hurts
pallid grey of cigarette smoke
dried blood still caught in his nose
dust and dirt
tan leather, old, beaten
shirts that don’t belong in any year past ‘89
once-bold printed tees, now grossly faded and unrecognisable
low slung trousers, fly partially or entirely left open
loose, aged vest underneath an open, well-worn shirt
beretta .92, one of the closest friends he’s ever had
the knout of his ancestors
mercedes w123 in canary yellow, likely a ‘79 model
a bloodstained leather jacket
VICES & BAD HABITS.
‘his need for love was inconsolable’ - usually grants himself the pretence of this through sex and any form of attention - punch him in the jaw, and he’ll take it for adoration
self-medicates; alcohol, prescription drugs, dagga, the occasional dose of harder drugs. he’s never clean, he just takes breaks.
has a habit of talking absolute nonsense in order to smother his insecurities or the truth. brilliant at telling a small truth surrounded by a bunch of lies and playing it off as open honesty.
does what he knows to be entirely wrong and vile, and finds the consequences of such to be a complete and utter surprise. toxic behaviour he knows to be wrong, but ‘can’t help himself’
he’s wide, and solid as brick, but holds himself like an old lion. he lumbers, with shoulders slumped and eyes constantly tired.
partly due to an old coke habit ( the only vice he is now completely clean of ), and partially because of nervousness, Brian’s nose is seldom still. it wrinkles, jumps to one side, twitches - he sniffs without cause and often sounds like he’s got the final symptoms of a cold.
quick, shooter’s reflexes, even in spite of his lifestyle and his perpetual lethargy. the old lion’s not dead yet.
his eyes are glassy, he’s never far from tears, but actually seldom cries openly. you’ll think he’s close though - however, this only makes his eyes more striking.
sprawls himself; an avid man-spreader, arms akimbo. mind you don’t mistake him for a corpse when he’s napping on the side of the road. it’s comfortable for him.
shards of orange sunlight streaming through a crack in the curtains
rows of empty liquor bottles lined up along a wall in a room they shouldn’t really belong
rumbled sheets and his lover’s shape within them
a sandy shore being eaten away by the waves
the shadows in the corner of the room that seem to move when you’re not looking and watch you with hidden eyes
why’d you only call me when you’re high - arctic monkeys
nobody praying for me - seether
d.d - the weeknd
i’ll be glad when you’re dead you rascal you - bobby peru
🔅Request: Hello ^.^ Can you do a Reader x Daryl story where the reader already has a group, (mostly bad people) they catch & muzzle Rick’s group. But Y/N help them to escape cause she can’t bear that anymore. They bring her back to Alexandria and she falls hard for the redneck, love is reciprocal. Thank youuuuuuu !🔅
(I hope you like it!)
Terminus was left behind and the group kept walking through the woods trying to find an opportunity to live.
Carol and Daryl were roaming the woods in search for something to put in their mouths in order to fill the voids in their bellies when they heard something behind a bush. Daryl took his crossbow and pointed at whatever the hell was there, whether it was a rabbit or a walker, it was better to shoot.
They found it wasn’t any of the things they thought, it was a girl. She was scared, so she tried to cover her face with her hands.
-The hell are ya? —Daryl held his crossbow at the height of her face.
-I… —the girl stuttered. Carol took out her knife.
-Are you alone? —Carol’s soft voice asked. Her head swung both ways to let them know the answer was ‘no’.
-Then go the hell back to where ya came from. —he was angry. Her eyes only showed sadness and fear, at first they thought she was afraid of them but now she seemed more scared of where she came from, maybe she was running away when they found her.
-Please. —the girl begged when voices could be heard in the distance. Carol and Daryl looked at each other, contemplating the chance of having a new member, but it was too late. The voices were closer now.
-Ah, here you are. —a fat man said as he grabbed her arm. The look on her face was painful to watch. The people that went to get her stared at Daryl and Carol. —You have new friends?
The fat man grabbed her arm so strongly that they thought it was gonna come off.
-There’s no need to… —Carol was about to step up her, when she was interrupted by a gun pointing at her face.
-Why don’t you mind your own business? —the man who was holding the girl spoke. —In fact, now that you care that much, help us out. Give me your guns.
Carol didn’t feel like arguing with a man holding a gun to her face and three other men and a woman with knifes in their hands. So she gave everything she had in that moment, and gave Daryl a sign to the the same. He surrendered everything, even his crossbow. They left with the stolen things and took the girl, who already had tears streaming down her face.
That night at the barn Daryl couldn’t sleep. The raindrops falling from the clouds were so hypnotizing, they reminded him of that girl. So much sadness and deep pain. In some way he felt guilty, but was there really something he could’ve done? Maybe not. The thoughts in his head were scared away when a knock on the door echoed the barn. It was soft and low so no one else heard it. It couldn’t be the walkers, none of them would have much grace at slamming their heads against the door.
He opened the door only to find his crossbow lying on the ground. There was no type of thief that would bother stealing something just to give it back later. But there was someone who maybe would. Back at the woods, when Carol and him noticed her, he knew that taking back with them wasn’t a crazy idea. After all, he knew how to tell the difference between a good person and a bad one; she seemed nice and kind, maybe it was a mistake letting them take her like that. Daryl stepped out of the barn and looked around for a while, she wasn’t hiding behind a bush or spying on him behind a tree. Daryl didn’t know this, but she gave it back because she knew he was going to need it soon.
The whole group woke up to the sound of footsteps over the thatch, and the creaking of the door. There were more people than usual, people with guns.
Rick tried to take his gun, but a man that Daryl and Carol already knew yelled at him telling him to stay still and don’t do anything stupid.
-We’re going to take these cans. —a woman said while holding a couple of cans of soup.
-Actually, darling, I think we’ll just take this whole place. —the known fat man spoke.
-How did you find us? —Carol asked.
-We saw you weren’t hungry for not eating in a few days, —he said as he walked around. —that you weren’t tired for sleeping on a rock with one eye open. We figured you had something good, so we followed you here.
Daryl was inspecting these people but he didn’t find who he was looking for.
-I’ll give you a chance. I’ll let you leave and take a few things to eat, if you leave now. —their leader said. But Rick stood up and turned his eyes in a look that only meant that he’s never let that happen.
-I’ll give you a chance. —Rick walked towards the man. —If you leave now, I won’t kill you.
This being said, Daryl, Glenn, Maggie, Carl and basically everyone else raised their weapons and pointed them at the thieves. The mysterious girl peeked through the window from outside, no one saw her, except for Daryl. She told him to hush and later shot the man who was trying to take over the barn. His blood splashed on Rick’s face, painting it red.
It was almost like a sign for everyone else to kill the enemy they had in front of them.
That’s the story of how (Y/N) joined the group. It wasn’t necessary to ask her the three questions and interrogate her, she proved she was on their side, but they still kept and eye on her, I mean, she DID betray her old group.
They finally found Alexandria and settled in. (Y/N) was grateful to them, she was friends with them and even could say she loved them. But she could say much more things about her feelings for the redneck. She spend most of the time focusing on her task, but she caught herself staring at that tan body every now and then.
It wasn’t like she just wanted to rip his clothes off and jump on him, she felt something deeper and harder to explain. She was young and experienced the confusing art of dating dumb boys her age, but she never thought that a man like him would cause that kind of impact in her life.
Almost like in a “damn romance novel” neither of them knew that the other felt exaclty how they felt. Daryl’s head was going through a messed up moment as well, he had been with girls before but deep inside there was something growing near his chest.
He got jealous when the guys in Alexandria talked to (Y/N), and she got jealous when women went and thanked him for helping their groups, it made her sick when a reckless lady every now and then touched his uncovered arm. Maybe she was also jealous from the dirt sticked to his tan skin.
He felt those things as well, not even when she was around him he was happy. He needed her to be with him, like she was meant to, at least that’s how it felt in both their hearts.