#absolveres

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"Well, I was wonderin' why there was a commotion at the gates. Ye didn't ring ahead li'l brother!" But there was a grin on the oldest brothers lips.

Clearly, despite the fact the visit was unexpected, it was quite welcomed.

He couldn't help but bring his brother into a hug, a laugh deep in his chest as he shook his head.

hi kfjgnkfjgh this took 89 years i am so sorry ghlghlghl but i hope that this is okay!! also feel free to turn this into a thread if you'd like but there is no obligation ever!!

Jacob is not sure where he is, or what he had been doing before his ears started ringing. Everything feels? Muted and daze-like. He is? Bleeding. Two thick rivulets cling to his lobes and sideburns, sludging hot red from both ear canals. Trying to glean a dusty lungful of air hurts and he winces, an arm already hanging uselessly against his side, “What?”

A nearby horn blares, tires screaming and he is intensely aware of what’s happened thus far and he sucks a breath in sharply, “John!” There aren’t many times that Jacob Seed has shown an intense, nauseating kind of worry outwardly like this, but he rolls himself to his knees, “Johnny!”

Generally speaking he doesn’t refer to his youngest brother with such endearments in public, but? There are things far more important than his grizzled, melty image to maintain. Groaning, he bites down on his tongue, trying to use the outward, swinging force of his arm to set his shoulder back into its socket. It doesn’t work. His mouth blossoms with fresh, metallic blood.

“John!” Spotting the back of an unsettlingly familiar, tailor-made, plane speckled coat nearby Jacob takes three, lunging, running steps and spills out onto his knees tearing the worn denim. With his good arm he relies heavily on field training, checking for a pulse and obvious signs of trauma.

“I need a medic!” Turning his head to the side he relieves himself of a mouthful of coagulating crimson and a few teeth, too. The pack he carries has been torn open by the force of him landing on his ass after the blast of what he assumes was a pipe bomb and he spies gauze and several insufficient bandages nearby.

“You stupid,” Despite his own kamikaze style agenda John had been willing to put himself in harms way for Jacob’s sake, “Stupid boy- why did you do that, huh?!” His head spins and he fights the urge to vomit, hard. Though Jacob doubts he can hear him, he continues, incensed by himself, “What you got in that big, ugly head of yours- idiot!”

He is scared.

Frightened, truth be told. Not of death, or the inevitable he has been racing towards all these months trapped in the shadow of the valley. Nor that his progeny will fail and his project be derailed.

He is terrified, however, that his youngest brother whom he’d spent his early teens trying to protect and raise will die before him. Right here, right now. This morning.

“John, God dammit,” Though he knows better he delivers a wallop against the side of the boy’s cheek, “You hear me you fucking degenerate clown?!”

Whatever chaos is happening in the background he is immune to it. Idly he realizes that bullets whiz by, peppering the asphalt, but he can hear several trucks pulling up and he knows his Chosen are on the scene. Taking a breath he whines, more than one set of ribs are broken, “John!”

@absolveres​​ || evolve - imagine dragons || accepting!

Everybody circling, it’s vulturous

Paul stands beside John towards the edge of the cliff overlooking a horde as it passes by below. What wildlife isn’t lucky enough to get away is food for the taking and they swarm each animal they come across in circular patterns of rotting flesh, starving mouths and hands unforgiving in the way they tear their way through fur and skin. Blue green eyes focus on John as Paul clasps his hands behind his back.

‘ Everybody circling. It’s vulturous. ‘

No words could be truer. A dip of his head in a nod and he sighs. Both at the smell and the way the truth is as unyielding as the starving mouths below. “They’re doing the only thing they know. The way it moves. Reminds me of a river with whirlpools and riptides. Just as mindless and unfeeling. Doing what it’s always done.”

He takes one more glance before a backwards step leads him away from the ledge. Attention back on John, observant gaze wanders across his expression trying to see what the other thinks of what’s below as well as what’s going on behind those eyes of his. 

𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙵𝙸𝚁𝚂𝚃 𝙵𝙸𝚅𝙴 𝚃𝙾 𝚂𝙽𝙳 💋 𝙶𝙴𝚃 𝙰 𝙺𝙸𝚂𝚂 → 𝙰𝙲𝙲𝙴𝙿𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚓𝚘𝚑𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚋𝚢 @absolveres​​ 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍 : 💋

Three weeks into the hell of life after the war, and Daryl’s ready to let the dead take the place. Swarm in, swallow it down. Maybe throw some flames on for good measure. Burn this sick joke of a Sanctuary off the map.

Another assassination attempt. How fucking many this week? Daryl’s less pissed about the shallow slice in his side than the look in the eyes of the asshole who’d swung at him. The you’ll never kill Negan, we’re all Negan that’d spilled out as Rosita neatly shot him in the temple.

We’re all Negan. Like the graffiti he sees everywhere he walks, the whistling he catches echoing down halls. Three weeks after the end of the war, and Daryl’s still trapped here, fighting it.

He elbows into his room already shrugging his shirt off, wiping blood-spatter off his cheek as he squints down at the long, thin wound. It takes a second –– and nearly tossing his shirt right into the guy’s chest –– for him to notice the other person already standing inside, waiting.

John Seed. Former Savior... former opportunist, more like, far as Daryl can tell. And more helpful than Daryl’d like to admit, since shit ended. His eyes flick down the other’s frame, telling himself he’s checking for weapons. (He’ll tell himself that as many times as he has to, and maybe one day he’ll believe it.)