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@yourexallxigotleft
After taking some time off; I have returned to give Cam a second go. I'm going to take Patrick off her blog. He'll be an 'as requested muse' but yeah.. Hi again all. :3 I also feel better and I'm not as down all the time ^^ Now let's see what Cam and I can do this time around. Anyone want a starter?
There’s no { h o p e }
for
us
Well.. I went from 22 drafts down to 14. That's good, right? And now it's bedtime because I'm losing my ability to see and write anything. plus arthritis is being a bitch. So, goodnight.
There's no { h o p e }
for
us
stolen innocence { cam & daryl } + triggering themes +
It had pretty much gotten to the point where Daryl was suggesting handcuffing his niece to himself; she always seemed to disappear during the same time that he needed her - and by need, I mean he just wanted to keep her safe, there were so many dangers out there; and it was a real pain trying to keep her in one place; she was a teenager after all; she had a mind of her own, and Daryl had noticed her Dixon attitude.
"Camden!" he called out; full first name to show his concern; usually he’d call her something else, a nickname of some sort - sometimes he’d make up an irrelevant name just to piss her off, but this time he used her first name; signalling his worry. "lil’ shit - Camden, get yir’ ass ‘ere right now!" he was beginning to worry even more as he didn’t hear a response coming from anywhere; and he soon enough began to pace around, scanning the areas to see where she was.
— In the distance, he saw a figure; curled up by a tree. His eyes squinted as he focused ahead, and he began to take slow and steady steps towards the body; he was soon able to make out that it was her, and there was a sigh of relief as he picked up his pace - eventually halting beside her, staggering over her curled up body; although the sobs were quiet, he was still able to hear them faintly. His eyes narrowed as he began to lower next to her. “Cam?” the full name had been shortened to her nickname to make him seem less angry about her disappearance. He tilted his head to the side, noticing the blood that covered parts of her body and clothes; and his first instinct was..”Who th’ hell did this t’you? Wait ‘till I get ma’ hands on the lil’ jackass!” because that’s what Daryl did, he assumed that she had just been beaten up, instead of facing the cold hard truth of what the situation looked like. “- W’at ‘appened ti’ you? - Camden; look at me!” he lent back against the same tree as she lay by; his arm placing over her shoulder as he tried to turn her to face him.
She knew what he thought had happened, he wouldn't go straight to the worst possible thing that could ever happen to a teenage girl, he'd refuse that that could ever happen to her and she knew he'd refuse it even if she showed him the damage that'd been done. So when he tried to turn her, she kept her head turned, only giving in when he wouldn't give up - lips bruised and bloodied at the edges from being forced open; chin coated with the dry remains of the substance she didn't even want to talk or think about for the net two million years; her body was shaking, hands trembling as they scrubbed at her face. The dirt from being held face down in the dirt was cut by her tears - dirty cheeks with lines from her tear tracks down them - and then she turned and crushed herself against his side, trying to seem as small as possible as she cried silently. The words wouldn't come out; but the rips on her jeans that still sat a fraction below where she usually sat them on her hips - and the remains of shredded underpants lying over from the bloodied leaves and clawed up dirt - fingers bloody and muddy from her attempted escape, wrists colored with bruises from being pinned down, matching ones around her neck, over her mouth and on her hips and thighs.
Every second's soaked in { s a d n e s s } Every weekend is a { w a r } And I'm drowning in the déjà vu We've seen it all before I don't wanna do this
by myself
Months on this blog and I have yet to have Cam officially meet her father.
"Where did you find that? Of course I do, is that even a question?"
"A joke shop in town." Grinning, the teen shook the small bottle. "Shall we go then? I believe I know of a certain Grimes boy who shall be itchy for days~"
"I found some itching powder - you wanna go put it in Carl's clothes?"
camebackforthehat replied to your post: “I’m actually being productive and doing things in my drafts....”:
YELLS I MISSED YOU
-was missed- i mISSED YOU TOO
trouble maker
He could almost predict that she’d say no; Hershel had as well. Ever since Michonne had tagged along when he wanted to do something for once…alone, he knew that it was alright to have people help. Even if he didn’t want it in the first place.
Shaking his head he gestured to the fence, “Well you’re not getting out that way. And there are still things that want to kill us out there.” He started noticing her mood however, the little nuances that he might’ve overlooked.
He wanted to help, mostly because Cam was someone Carl considered a friend. Those type of people, the ones that actually caused Carl to care were ones he would go to any lengths to protect. It was how he felt about the remaining Atlanta survivors, and Hershel’s family as well. Cam, she was no different.
“I can’t let you, it’s not my rule, but these rules keep us safe. You can’t just go wandering out there by yourself.” He paused, looking at her. The need to sympathize was strong, but he didn’t want to go down that road. Especially when she didn’t seem like even being in someone’s presence. “If something’s wrong, you can talk to me, you know? I’m your friend.”
Brown eyes just stared at him for a moment, if one looked close enough they'd see the slight shine around the rim of her eyes that showed the subtle shimmer of building tears, then she looked down and to the ground, knocking the toe of her converse against the cement below. "I don't.." She trailed off and shook her head, taking a shaky intake of breath and bringing her hand up to chew her thumbnail - a habit she'd picked up from watching her uncle for far too long. - "I don't wanna talk about it.." She mumbled against her finger. Talking about it meant she had to admit that Jacob was gone and never coming back, she had to admit that she believed he was dead and that it broke her heart in more than one way - she had to admit that she indeed had a broken heart in the first place. She'd just admitted her feelings for the Peletier boy - then he ran off. How was she supposed to feel? If not guilty. If not frightened, if not terrified beyond belief. And within a moment she began to pace back and forth quickly, nervously as she spoke, more to herself than anything but she was airing her problems - simply because this was Carl, and she had to admit this all to make her feel better. She trusted Carl as well, to not say something that would further harm her fragile psyche. "How could he leave like that," she started, "I told him everything, I told him how much I liked him, that I loved him, that he was the only one I really cared about more than anything in the world and I loved him so much. I kissed him, I gave him my first kiss because I wanted him to know I loved him - that I wasn't just saying it." she paused, "He said it back, he returned my feelings.. He kissed me back." back and forth she paced across the concrete, "He used to sleep in my cell with me - just to help me so I could actually sleep; I have nightmares, about my parents. About what Daryl told me about how my dad died, I have nightmares constantly about those things out there, and he knew that. He helped me.." Then she stopped pacing, and lifted her head to look at Carl, the black rings around her eyes more visible in the daylight once her hair moved out of the way, "And he still left, just like everyone else. And he's probably dead, he probably left because of me and he's probably dead."
I hate missing people.
{ my mind blanked as soon as I opened the askbox. So if this is crap - I'm sorry. } Isn't this the guy she'd seen Carl talking to? She's pretty sure it is, and he's someone she's yet to meet ( there's a ton actually ) but the way Carl and this man had spoke - they knew each other from before it seemed. So she's making it her mission to know him as well, "Uh..Hi. I'm 'a friend' Of Carl's. And-" Real smooth, Camden. "Screw it, I'm Camden - Dixon. Carl seems close to you - so I wanted to meet you"
((nah it don’t suck at all.))
He turned at the sound of the girls voice and looked at the kid before him, a crease forming between his brows. He gave a small nod to her words. “Yeah, seen Carl ‘round.” he said, about to turn around until she finished saying her name. “Another Dixon? Or is some kinda coincidence?” he asked with a humorless smirk. He let out a heavy sigh when she said Carl was close to him. Sure, he was. But it was hard to explain now, now after everything that had happened, all that damned things that had changed things for them. “Yeah, we’re close. Name’s Shane, by the way. Me and Rick…we were..” He hesitated a moment and looked away from her. “We’ve known each other all our lives.”
“Coincidence? You say that like Dixon’s run around like roaches or somethin’.” She chuckled, arms crossing against her chest, “You more than likely know my dad and uncle - just by that tone. The one with the crossbow’s my uncle.” Roundabout way of admitting that Merle was her father; it wasn’t like she was upset or ashamed of the fact. Hell, say the wrong thing about him and despite never knowing him she’d still jump to his defense. She just wasn’t used to admitting it completely and.. well, out loud yet. “So you’re the Shane that Carl’s talked about before.” Her tone is indifferent - not caring about most of the things she’d heard about him — things happened, people did shit with no explanation and no way to get one. That’s just how life was now. Hell, she didn’t even know what exactly he’d done - but she could probably think of quite a few people that’d done worse things even before the apocalypse.
I'm actually being productive and doing things in my drafts. -facedesk-
“If you are, we’ll figure out what to do.”
Rick continues to rub gentle, soothing circles against her back. He keeps her close, letting her have the time she needs to let all the tears out. There will be no rushing from him.
"Hush, sweetheart. I’m not gonna let anyone, or anything, hurt you." He lowers his head, lips pressing to Camden’s hair. "We’ll go on the run, get what you need, and from there work it out." His thumb brushes against her shoulder blades, voice lowering a bit.
"Do you want to tell anyone else?"
The way he is with her, just the feeling she gets inside when she's with him - it's the same feeling she used to get around her stepdad. And for a second that depresses her, but then it pleases her because it means safety - it means care, she can trust him and confide in him like one would to their father. It's the same way she feels about Daryl. Nodding at his promise, she slowly stops crying, sobs subsiding and shoulders no longer shaking, looking up at him after his lips press to her hair; there's a weak smile on her face that fades at his question - shaking her head then. "Not until I know for sure or not.. I don't want everyone to hate me at once.."
Daryl laughed softly "Yeah, like i said earlier, we should get back before anyone misses us." He said before walking in the direction of the prison. He was now nervous people would ask where they had been. Daryl knew he could just tell them he took the kid out to show him how to work a crossbow, but Daryl knew he wouldn't remember to do that.
Patrick hurriedly grabbed his things, following after Daryl and making sure that his clothing was correctly placed and not too suspiciously messed up. Though his blush didn't want to fade as he kept thinking about what they'd just done. He swallowed as he followed the older male towards the fence that led back into the prison.
