#cupidscrossbow

[gala-art]

They found an old Walkman with *working* batteries (prompt: slow dance) ❤️ Just some quick messy things for Cupid's Crossbow.

[audreyvoilax]

Marked 💋

Comic fill for Cupid’s Crossbow Prompt: Red Lipstick

[thecozykirin]

Prompt: "Oops."

( I saw a Bethyl Valentine's prompt list by @audreyvoilax and I just couldn't not do one! This is meant to take place during the group's early days of settling into Alexandria in my 'When the Bullet Missed' AU! )

They still weren’t used to soft beds, not really.

So Daryl slept on the floor.

It wasn’t because he didn’t want to share the space with Beth—hell no, that’d be a lie, and he didn’t lie to himself about that anymore. But the mattress was too plush, the ceiling too dark, the house too quiet, and sometimes he still woke up reaching for his crossbow like there were teeth chomping at the door. It was easier for him to throw a blanket on the floor where the boards felt familiar and the cold air hit his face.

Beth hadn’t pressed him on it, she never did. She just let him build his little pallet beside the bed, telling him goodnight from the mattress while she leaned over the edge with a little smile and her hair loose over her shoulders.

That night, he was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling when the mattress creaked. He heard her shift, covers rustling with a soft little hum like she was talking to herself. “Y'okay up there?” he muttered.

“Mhm. Just gettin’ comfy.”

“Sounds like you’re wrestlin’ a damn bear.”

The mattress creaked again. Then there was a dramatic, drawn-out, “Whoooa—”

Thump.

Beth landed halfway across his ribs, an elbow in his stomach and her hair in his face. “Uff—!” Daryl wheezed, grabbing instinctively at her arms. “What th'hell—Beth!”

She lay there for a beat, sprawled over him, then lifted her head and propped her chin on his sternum, completely unbothered and grinning up at him apologetically. “…Oops,” she said.

Daryl blinked at her in the dark. “Th'hell ya mean ‘oops’?”

“Guess I rolled too far,” she said, way too innocent. “Gravity, y’know.”

"Y'did that on purpose." He squinted. “Y'aimed for me.”

“Maybe a little,” she admitted, eyes crinkling with mischievous delight.

“Girl, ya coulda busted your damn head open,” he muttered, palms sliding to her head like he was checking for damage. “Ain’t funny.”

“It's a little funny,” she said, not moving off him. "Besides, I grew up on a farm,” she teased. “I’ve fallen outta way higher things than a bed.”

“Ain’t exactly comfortin’ hearin’ ya treat concussions like a hobby, y'know.” he groused, thumbs still skating along her temples like he was expecting to find a crack.

She just grinned wider. “Well, lucky for you I landed on somethin’ solid.”

“Yeah, my damn lungs,” he muttered. Beth just laid there, smiling up at him like she hadn't just knocked the wind out of him and Daryl stared at her for a long second, trying to be mad and failing miserably. “…Y'really rolled off that bed just ‘cause you wanted t’sleep on th'floor?” he asked finally.

Her nose scrunched. “Not just the floor.” She shifted a little closer, like she hadn’t already flattened him. Her chest pressed against his ribs, warmth seeping through both their shirts. “The floor with you.”

His ears went hot, and Daryl was real glad the lights were off. “Beth.”

“What?” she asked, eyes all big and blue in the dark. “You’re down here alone. I’m up there alone. Seems kinda silly, don't it?”

“Ain’t silly,” Daryl grumbled. “It’s…how I sleep. Floor’s better n'closer t’ the door. Can hear everythin’, see everythin’.” His gaze flicked past her to the dark rectangle of the doorway. “Ain’t up there floatin’ on a damn marshmallow when somethin’ comes crashin’ in.”

Beth softened at that, the mischief in her face easing into something quieter. “I get that,” she said. “But if you’re gonna be down here listenin’ for monsters under the bed, I’m not gonna just leave you to it.”

He snorted. “Ain’t monsters, it’s—”

“I know.” She cut him off gently. “People, walkers, all of it.” Her fingers curled in the fabric of his shirt, just above his heart. “Still doesn’t change what I said.”

“What’s that?”

“I don’t wanna be up there by myself,” she said simply. “Not if you’re down here.”

Daryl stared at her, his jaw working. Part of him wanted to haul her right back up to that damn bed, tuck her in like Deanna’s idea of “civilized,” and keep guard from the floor where he belonged. The other part, the louder one lately, just felt her heartbeat against his ribs and didn’t want her to move at all. “Th'floor’s hard n'drafty. You’ll wake up bitchin’ ya can’t feel your hip, an’ Maggie’ll look at me like—"

“I can handle a sore hip,” Beth said. "Sides…I sleep better next t’you.”

That shut him right up. Daryl felt her words land somewhere low in his chest. "…Yeah?" he managed.

“Mhm.” Her fingers smoothed over the fabric she’d bunched up, thumb brushing absently over his sternum. "Doesn't matter where we are. The road, a casket, a ditch or a bed...when it was just us I’d hear you move and breathe, and I felt safe enough to close my eyes for a little bit, ‘cause you weren’t gonna let the world sneak up on me without a fight.” Beth shifted, nudging her nose against his chest, embarrassed but determined. “So yeah, I sleep better next t’you and I think I always will.”

Daryl went quiet at that, suddenly full of things he didn’t know how to say. Her words sat warm and heavy in his chest, like someone had tucked a hot stone under his ribs and left it there. For a second he just stared at the ceiling over her head, before finally he huffed out a breath and shifted. “C’mere,” he muttered. Before she could ask, his hands slid from her shirt to her sides, guiding her gently off his ribs and down onto the blanket proper. He rolled with her, careful and slow, until her back was to his chest and they were both turned toward the dark shape of the doorway. One arm slipped under her head so she could use his bicep as a pillow while the other wrapped around her middle, snug and solid, his palm flattening warm over her stomach. Beth melted into him like that was exactly what she’d wanted all along. One of her hands came up to cover his where it lay on her belly, fingers threading between his as her toes slid back between his ankles, cold as creek water and he jerked. “Shit, girl—yer feet’re freezin’.”

Beth giggled, wiggling them until he instinctively trapped them between his calves, "Good thing I got my own personal heater.” Daryl grumbled, but his arm tightened around her, tugging her just that bit closer. After a minute or two of quiet, Beth spoke again, her voice smaller. “Also…if a nightmare gets me, I don’t gotta climb outta bed an’ tiptoe across the room t’find you.”

Something twisted in him at that. “…You been doin’ that?”

“Once or twice,” she admitted. “Didn’t wanna wake you. Just…wanted t’know you were there.”

His chest pulled tight. “Shoulda woke me.”

She smiled faintly, even though he couldn’t see it. “Well, you're here now.”

Daryl grunted at that, dipping his head and tucking his chin more firmly over the curve of her shoulder, closing the last bit of space between them. “Beth?” he murmured.

“Mm?”

“…I sleep better next t’you too,” he mumbled, like it cost him something to admit. “Ain’t used t’it yet, but…yeah, I do.”

She went still for a heartbeat, then he felt her shoulders loosen under his arm, a long slow breath sliding out of her like someone had let the air outta a balloon “Yeah?” she whispered.

“Yeah.”

He could feel her smiling now, even with her face turned away. “Good,” she breathed. “Then we’re both where we’re s’posed t’be.”

He huffed gently into her hair. “Yeah,” he said. “Reckon we are.”

[greentomatopasted]

like rabbits do (E)

prompt: bunny

He grabs four sweaters, some blankets. Three pairs of sturdy looking pants. They'll need new boots, soon, but he knows enough about stores like this to know that whatever they find here won't be any less worn out than what's already on their feet. Out of the corner of his eye: something sparkling. An old ache in his stomach. That twisted kind of hunger. Kid in the candy shop with skinny wrists, knobby ribs. It's pretty. Crystal. Probably fake, but it catches the fading, silvery light the same, nose in the air and long ears pricked back in curiosity.

[audreyvoilax]

Open for all to participate! Any and all mediums welcome! Pick one or all of the prompts to make something as a Valentine’s Day present to your fellow Bethyl Fans! Post works with #CupidsCrossbow please!

[audreyvoilax]

Drawn Close, Kept Tight — illustration to go along with my first Cupid’s Crossbow prompt, “Secrets”.