madbucker

[madbucker]

Hi, do you have a master list for Silhouttes? I’m not exactly sure how to read it (no offense) so if you have one, that’d be a huge help. Thank you!!!!

Hi! No offense taken, don’t worry (: 

I have a masterlist here. 

I listed the chapters in two different ways, so there’d be a guide in case it got too confusing. I guess that from now on I’ll write in chronological order anyway!

Also, just in case! If the chapters are listed like this:

I + II 

It means that II happens right after I, there’s no big time gap (time gap? time jump? yeah) or anything, as if they were two parts of the same storyline.

Chapters I and II were the ones I wrote first, and they are set around Season 9. But in the ‘chronological order’ list, I put them last. 

I will probably change the way I list it, tho! I realize now that it can be very confusing. Sorry about that ):

I hope that answers your question! Thank you so much for your message ♥

. 

[madbucker]

Silhouettes | Daryl Dixon.

Eventual Daryl Dixon x female reader.

IV.

Season 1.

MASTERLIST.

Loosely based on the song We Will Become Silhouettes by The Postal Service.

Summary: Y/N follows Rick to Atlanta. They find a group willing to help them.

Warnings: language, gore stuff (twd style), mentions of death, mentions of domestic abuse. Will add more warnings depending on the chapter’s content. Let me know if you think it needs some other warning!

Word count: 3.6k.

Author’s note: First things first, I’m not a native English speaker, so bear with me! You can send me a message or an ask pointing out some mistakes so I can edit the post. Also, it will help me learn the language, so don’t hesitate! Had this in my drafts for a few days. I hope you like it! ♥

Gif’s not mine.

“Morgan…” You couldn’t find the right words to express how grateful you were. You looked at Morgan and Duane with conflict showing in your eyes: you were happy and hopeful that you were going to find your sister in Atlanta, but you couldn’t ignore the anguish, the heartbreak of leaving them. Every second counted, and waiting a few more days could lower your chances of finding her alive, but those two had saved your life. What if leaving them lowered their chances of making it to safety? Even if you weren’t suited for survival, having someone else around could make a difference.

“Go, this is your chance. We’ll meet again, soon.” Morgan took over as if he knew how much you were feeling at the moment, embracing you not only with his arms but with his words.

Yeah, we’ll meet again, you thought. Your mind softened for a couple of seconds when you felt another set of arms hugging you tight from your side. You had only known them for a couple of weeks, but that was a lot when the world was the way it was. Weeks felt like a lifetime for you, and so it did for the men that had taken you in.

Men, because Duane was far from being a boy. It was sad, he deserved to live the rest of his childhood like you did, or like his father did. He had to, forcefully, become brave, strong, and even cold sometimes.

“We’ll meet again in Atlanta, or somewhere else, I don’t know, but we will.” You said as they let go of you. All you could do after that was forcing yourself to smile reassuringly.

“Now go and help Rick find his family too.”

“You can't leave me here... Not like this. You can't, man. It's not human. Come on, don't do this!”

Merle’s voice was faint as you ran down the stairs with everyone else. Their names were blurry in your head, the adrenaline making you forget about everything but the fact that your life was hanging by a thread.

But Merle, oh, you would never forget his name.

He was the type of person you were afraid to run into, back when you were alone. You were glad Rick was there to put him in his place, even though that hadn’t shut him up. 

Finding other survivors had its downside, you guessed, but not all of it was bad.

They told you that they had a camp, that they had people. The blonde woman’s younger sister was one of them, and they said they had children, too. Maybe it was too good to be true, but since Atlanta was overrun by walkers, then that was the best you had.

Walkers, that’s what they’d named them: because that’s all they did, they were the empty carcasses of what used to be a beautifully complex human being. They just walked, and bit, and killed.

You feared your sister was one of those, roaming around the city. That thought hadn’t left your mind since you first realized how bad things had gotten there. What if she had gone to Atlanta, seeking shelter, but found her death instead? You knew you had to get out of the situation you were in before you made any decisions. The camp didn’t seem like a bad idea, you could stay there temporarily and visit the city a few more times until you found her. Maybe even bring back supplies to thank everyone for letting you stay. That was if you made it, survival was still something new, something you had to train for.

Safety in numbers felt like your best shot. 

You didn’t pay much attention to your surroundings until you got inside the loading dock, your eyes were fixed in what was in front of you. A walker could’ve gotten you from your sides and you wouldn’t have noticed until it was too late. You were lucky enough to get to safety.

So was T-Dog, who at last second caught up with you, right before you heard Rick banging on the door.

You sat next to the two women, hugging yourself with your trembling arms. You were agitated and couldn’t catch enough air to say what you knew everyone else wanted to say.

“Hey, T-Dog,�� you moaned once you could stabilize your breath, “where’s Merle?” you almost barked the asshole’s name. He looked down to his knees.

“I dropped the damn key,” he growled, angry and ashamed.

“Well, shit.” You whispered, making sure nobody heard. Merle had it coming, that was clear, but T-Dog didn’t have to carry with the guilt of leaving a man to die just because he happened to be… the way he was.

“Best not to dwell on it. Merle got left behind. Nobody's gonna be sad he didn't come back... except, maybe, Daryl.” One of the men commented. You lifted your head and locked your eyes with his, your heart starting to beat faster once again. If for some reason Merle had someone who cared for him, then they had to love him. That was a difficult man, the one you had met back there… It must've taken a huge amount of patience and devotion to want him around for more than a few hours.

If he actually had someone who cared for him, you were completely fucked.

“Daryl?” you hesitated to ask, not sure if you wanted to hear the answer.

“His brother.”

The scenario was so beautiful it was truly unbelievable. You were stepping out of the dock when Rick’s drowned cry caught your attention. Looking forward, you saw a kid running to hug him, followed by a woman. You quickly figured out Rick had found his family, making your heart flutter. In the shithole you were in, you figured those things were a sight to be seen, something that didn’t happen every day, so you let yourself enjoy the view.

You knew Rick’s son was young, even younger than Duane, but seeing him there made you realize how fragile he was.

Innocent, scared, too little to live through those times. And for a second, you forgot that a few hours before you thought you had no purpose left. Not finding your sister, seeing how one of the biggest cities in the country had fallen… you had started to think that there was no use in trying so hard to survive when you had nobody left.

But there he was, Carl, and there were more kids in the camp. Maybe you could do more than just survive. Trying to help them live their lives with as little worry and concern as possible was better than giving up.

“Why on earth did you leave the apartment?!” A loud, high pitched scream echoed through the camp, and it didn’t take long for you to spot her, running to you.

Her. Mayra. Your sister.

When her body slammed into yours, you fell backward as you hugged her tight, trying not to let her go, as if she could slip away from your arms at any moment. You stayed on the ground trying to take in every detail you could. Her shaky breath, the way her hair felt on your skin, how her fingers were uncomfortably pressed between the ground and your shoulder blades. Her small cries as she tried to find the exact words to say.

“I was looking for you!”, at that point, you were sobbing, not even thinking about the people whose eyes wandered from Rick to you two.

“And I was about to go back home looking for you!” She cried, steadying her breath before standing back up. You followed her actions, your sight never leaving hers.

You weren’t sure how long it had been since it all started. Weeks, for sure. Months, too, although sometimes it felt like decades.

Suddenly, her eyes widened and she scanned her surroundings, fear creeping in her. She put both of her hands on your shoulders and lightly shook her head, still searching for something, you couldn’t guess what.

“Did he die?” She questioned firmly. You didn’t answer, had someone else gone to Atlanta that hadn’t made it? Someone who died before you found the group? She couldn’t be talking about… 

The entire world fell on top of you. You had just discovered your sister was alive and had also just found out you left someone she cared about behind. “Did Merle fucking die?!”

The fire warmed your legs and the frog legs tasted so, so good. You hadn’t eaten anything freshly cooked in such a long time, it felt unreal. You were focused on your food and on Rick’s story, it was the first time you heard him talk in-depth about what had happened. He seemed happy, and the bags under his eyes were more subtle. His entire demeanor had changed.

“They found me…” your sister’s voice interrupted your trail of thoughts. You had a conversation pending; one that the both of you decided to ignore so you could enjoy the feeling of being back together, “... the Dixons, I mean. Merle didn’t want me around, Daryl didn’t either, but he was too kind to let it show. Thank God we found the group, like, a couple of days after I joined them.” Her eyes were lost in the flames as she spoke. She knew it hadn’t been your fault, there was no way you would leave him on purpose. “But I was about to die, Y/N. I felt the walker’s teeth on my skin, it tore the fabric on my shoulder. I just accepted it, didn’t fight back, didn’t try to escape.” She looked at you, and you realized that nothing meant shit anymore… life at that moment was constantly being on the verge of dying and knowing that the people you loved could die at any moment, too. Nothing could ever go back to what it used to be. “And, then, a freaking arrow went through the walker’s head. Clean, just like that, and it fell on top of me. I had never seen death in first person, you know. I had lost my friends after a dozen of those creeps came out of nowhere, but I didn’t see them die, I just heard the screams.”

She was your little sister, you hated to hear her that way, so hopeless and surrendering to death. 

“You’re safe now, these people know how to fight-” you stared, but she stopped you before you could finish.

“I know. But one of the men who saved my ass isn’t safe. Yes, he’s not the kindest, nicest, or most selfless man, but I owe him.” You knew that feeling too well. You owed Morgan and Duane, you owed Rick, and Glenn, and so many people. None of them had behaved the way Merle did, but not only Mayra owed him, you did too.

Nodding, you sighed and looked at her in the eyes, reassuring her you would do something to get him back, anything you could.

“Hey, Ed, you want to rethink that log?” Shane’s loud demand made you jump slightly. Your sister nudged you on your side with her elbow and signaled you to look at Ed. She had been suspicious about him and you both had talked about it a few hours back

“It’s cold, man.”

“Then join us or put it out, we don’t want to be seen…” you spoke, managing to sound as nice as you could. You didn’t want to start anything, but you knew how dangerous it could get. You had to avoid loud sounds and bright lights. But Ed, as expected, ignored you.

“Yeah, the cold doesn’t change the rules, does it? Keep our fires low, just embers so we can't be seen from a distance, right?” Shane continued.

“I said it's cold. You should mind your own business for once.” Ed’s answer has was harsh, you could tell he would be hard to deal with, but not everything could be perfect in such a numerous and diverse group. Everyone had different stories to tell, some of them were more tragic than others.

Shane got up and walked steadfastly towards Ed and his family’s fire, “Hey, Ed... Are you sure you want to have this conversation, man?”

“Go on. Pull the damn thing out. Go on!” Ed bossed and his wife pulled the log out of the fire almost immediately, not questioning his husband’s command. It was sad and frustrating, but knowing that stepping in could cause the wife and the little girl to get hurt forced you to stay in your place. Shane seemed to be handling the situation. He was like some sort of leader in the camp, and he had been around those people for so much longer than you, he knew what to do. At least that’s what you told yourself in an attempt to find comfort.

You saw how Shane spoke to Ed’s wife and their daughter, but you couldn’t hear what he said as the group had started a conversation to fill in the silence.

“Have you given any thought to Daryl Dixon? He won't be happy to hear his brother was left behind.” The man -whose name you learned was Dale- questioned, deciding to talk about the elephant in the room. 

“I'll tell him. I dropped the key. It's on me.” T-Dog’s shameful tone showed up once again.

“I cuffed him. That makes it mine.” Rick followed. It couldn’t turn into a competition of who was brave enough, who was the most selfless, or who was willing to sacrifice themselves.

“We were all there, it’s not a competition, any of us could’ve done something-” You intervened, hoping you could bring into the conversation the fact that you were planning on going back, but Glenn interrupted you:

“I don't mean to bring race into this, but it might sound better coming from a white guy.” You hated it, but if Daryl was as bigoted as his brother, then Glenn was right.

“I did what I did. Hell if I'm gonna hide from him.” T-Dog stated, completely convinced of facing the consequences.

“And we keep on making a competition out of this. We all should be there and say whatever we have to say.” You said in a determined tone. You were all responsible, one way or another.

“Look, Y/N… maybe I can tell him?” Mayra whispered as the rest kept on debating who should speak up.

“I don’t know how it could help…” You said back. Yes, Mayra knew him better than you, but she hadn’t been involved, she didn’t have to.

She opened her mouth to protest, but T-Dog’s words captured your interest instantly:

“My point... Dixon's alive and he's still up there, handcuffed on that roof. That's on us.”

When the fire was out and everyone got into their tents, including your sister, you still sat on the same log as before. The scenario felt strange, almost unknown to you: outside at night, under the cloudy night sky, and still not unsafe. It had been so long since you felt immortal and undefeatable, just like any other girl your age felt... like nothing could happen to you, not ever. You missed it. But beautiful as that night was, the imminent danger thickened the air.

You felt your eyes growing heavier each second. You were ready to go to sleep, so you got up and started to walk to the tent you and Mayra would share, but the sight of someone on the roof of Dale’s RV made you stop on your tracks.

Shane was keeping watch, and you wondered if he did it each night, or how had they arranged the shifts. He looked tired and the look on his face was anything but friendly.

“Hey, want to switch?” You asked approaching the stairs and climbing up, not waiting for an answer. Once you got off the stairs, your eyes wandered through the trees and landed up in the sky. If he kept watch every night, then you knew why. The view wasn’t mesmerizing, you had seen more beautiful countless times before, but the air up there was lighter, and the breeze, soothing. 

“Sorry ‘bout Ed today.” Shane ignored your question. You sat down next to the chair he was sitting in.

“Don’t be, he’ll pay for what he’s doing to his family someday. Soon, I hope.” You looked up and realized his eyes were lost somewhere in the horizon. He looked tired, and if you read more into it: defeated. “Go to sleep, I’ll stay. I want to.”

It came as a surprise to you: that was all he needed to hear. He didn’t protest, he got up, handed you the shotgun and left. You didn’t know if he would be able to get some sleep, at least he could try to.

But what you did know was that you weren’t suddenly concerned about the sleeping schedule of a man you had just met. You were desperately in need of being alone. Being around so many people was something you had only dreamt about, at least for the last weeks, and although you felt the luckiest you had ever felt, the safety you had found allowed you to put your feet back on the ground.

Everything had happened so fast. You almost died, and more than once. You met people, they saved you, you left one of them to die, you found out Mayra was alive and safe, Rick’s family was with her… and you still had to figure out how to break the news to Merle’s brother. 

You were going back to the city, too, as if everything that had happened wasn’t enough. You’d do it for your sister, and for the men who saved her, as questionable as they were.

And suddenly, it clicked.

The bag. The guns.

You had to remind Rick. It could save the group from an attack from walkers, or from other people. That way you knew somebody else would go back with you and you would actually have a shot of coming back alive, even if they despised Merle.

“Merle! Merle! Get your ugly ass out here! I got us some squirrel! Let's stew 'em up.”

You had just finished hanging some of your clothes to dry when an unbothered and loud voice caught everyone’s attention. From their wide eyes, you could tell who had just gotten back. Merle’s brother, Daryl, sounded, moved, and acted just like him. It wasn’t just the accent, but his words, how his presence made everyone uncomfortable… you could tell they were expecting him to snap as soon as he found out. Behind him, Shane and Rick looked and nodded to each other. You approached them, determined to be a part of it even if hell broke loose.

“Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal. He's still there.” Rick got to the point with no rambling.

“We locked the door, he’s safe from walkers.” You dared to look at him in the eyes, but regretting it as soon as he opened his mouth.

“Hold on. Let me process this. You're saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof and you left him there?!”

“Yeah.” Rick stepped in front of you, and without skipping a beat, Daryl attacked Rick, who shoved him off. 

You took a few steps back and spotted your sister, who was just getting out of the RV. Her eyes widened and her mouth hung open as soon as she realized what was happening: Daryl, Shane, T-Dog and Rick were yelling at each other. She stood in her place, everyone in the camp knew well not to intervene. Shane had Daryl on a chokehold as Rick explained to him that he wanted to have a calm discussion, which seemed to force Daryl to give in. Shane let go of him.

“What I did was not on a whim. Your brother does not work and play well with others.” Rick kept going. At that point, you guessed nothing could actually calm Dixon, he was still breathing heavily.

“It's not Rick's fault. I had the key. I dropped it.” T-Dog cut in.

“You couldn't pick it up?” Daryl snarled.

“Well, I dropped it in a drain.”

“If it's supposed to make me feel better, it don't.” 

“Hey, I told you, the door’s chained with a padlock. There’s no way walkers could get to him.” You repeated, trying your best to be concise and get to the point: Merle was still out there. 

“And who the fuck are you?” Daryl took a few steps forward and stared at you in the eyes. You weren’t scared, but it did take you by surprise. You stumbled back and raised your hands, putting them in between you.

“She’s my sister, Daryl!” Mayra’s shaky voice made him turn around. You couldn’t see his face, but hers was filled with heartbreak. She felt she had failed him, as if she had broken an unspoken promise. Daryl faced you again.

“Funny, huh? How I saved your sister but you left my brother to rot.” He growled. His voice low and irritated.

Your eyes jumped from Mayra to him. You straightened your body and took a deep breath. He was right. You felt miserable, and you couldn’t imagine how hard it was for Mayra, you knew you would have to do something as soon as she told you her story.

“I know, that’s why I’m going back there. With or without you.”

[madbucker]

So life kinda sucks right now and I'm in a situation that I can't get out of (being in your early twenties sucks). I'm drowning in my family's shit, basically. I want to write but as my people would say, estoy hasta las manos.

[madbucker]

Guys I'll try to post next chapter some time in the weekend 💜 My life now is just hopping from meeting to meeting and working on speeches, lol.

[madbucker]

oh god what did i do

IT SUMMONS MAIL EVERYONE TRY IT

[madbucker]

Such a beautiful song and a beautiful one shot ❤️

“Leave a Light On” Daryl Dixon x Reader

*not my gif*

Request from @yes-sir-hotchner​ :  Can I request a Daryl fic based loosely on the song “Leave a Light On” by Tom Walker? Thank you so much!!

Word Count: 3451

Warning: mention of violence

Song I Wrote To: “Leave a Light On” by Tom Walker

Note: When I first listened to this song, I fell in love. And then when I got this request, I listened again and immediately thought of Daryl after he escaped Negan’s clutches. I like to think that a conversation happened like this with Rick at some point and I loved the one he had with Maggie in the cellar so this is what came out of the song! Thank you for requesting this!

——-

The second someone mentioned you were all alone

I could feel the trouble coursing through your veins

Now I know, it’s got a hold

The walls of the Hilltop stood tall, protecting its citizens from the Undead monsters of the new world.

However, now there were more than just Walkers to worry about. The Savior threat hung above them like a guillotine and the people of the Hilltop, Alexandria, and Kingdom were just waiting for the blade to fall. 

Negan had been ruthless while his foot rested on your neck and the others, but now it seemed Rick was ready to fight back and finally there was hope again within the communities. You were one of Rick’s right hands, helping keep the group safe since you joined them at the prison.

When Negan had captured your people you had been with Jesus, looking for medication and ammunition. When you had returned to Alexandria and Carl told you what had happened to Glenn and Abraham, you felt…broken. Then Rosita revealed that Negan had taken Daryl and you couldn’t stay inside those walls any longer.

Seguir leyendo

[madbucker]

The Walking Dead Aesthetic Series // Characters ↳"Have you ever had to kill people because they had already killed your friends and were coming for you next? Have you ever done things that made you feel afraid of yourself afterward? Have you ever been covered in so much blood that you didn’t know if it was yours or walkers’ or your friends’? Huh? Then you don’t know.“

[madbucker]

‘Modern day Bonnie & Clyde’

Caryl H-U-G-S

[madbucker]

Silhouettes | Daryl Dixon

Eventual Daryl Dixon x female reader.

III.

Season 1.

MASTERLIST.

Loosely based on the song We Will Become Silhouettes by The Postal Service.

Summary: King County went down and Y/N is left alone hiding, trying to survive and looking for her sister.

Warnings: language, gore stuff (twd style), mentions of death. Will add more warnings depending on the chapter’s content. Let me know if you think it needs some other warning!

Word count: 2k.

Author’s note: First things first, I’m not a native English speaker, so bear with me! You can send me a message or an ask pointing out some mistakes so I can edit the post. Also, it will help me learn the language, so don’t hesitate! If you have any questions or want me to write about a situation in particular (like how they met, runs, the prison, or whatever you come up with) just send me an ask and if I feel like it fits with the story, then I’ll write it! Anyway, if you are into simple writing and limited vocabulary, then I hope you like it and as I said before, I’ll gladly take constructive criticism! ♥ I MEAN IT, CORRECT ME, PLEASE lol. We’re going back in time this chapter!

Gif’s not mine.

Since you could remember, you wanted nothing more than to become independent. The future you had imagined seemed bright and full of opportunities.

You had just left your home after being forced to leave your undead roommate locked in her room: your own best friend. She was the first person who made you feel at home when you first stepped foot in Georgia with your sister. In the beginning, you had stayed in cheap hotels in Atlanta until you got a job in a small county around 6 miles away from the city and could afford rent; that’s when you met Stella: a girl your age who had moved from somewhere in Kansas a few months before you met. You worked together and she had told you she was looking for a couple of roommates so she could both afford rent and eat proper meals, and, of course, you and your sister said yes straight away. And just when you thought you were living the life you had always wanted, the world became a living hell. Just weeks before you thought you were starting to build the foundations of the life you had always wanted.

Now you were stuck somewhere in a middle-class neighborhood, alone, inside one of the few houses that weren’t either burned down or destroyed. It wasn’t easy to imagine, but maybe you could survive in this new world. Even all alone and with a twisted ankle, if you just stayed hidden in the house until you healed, then you could head to the woods and get away from the infested area.

The whole place had been raided, the cabinet doors were broken and there was almost no food left inside of them. And you couldn’t ignore, as much as you tried, the bloodstains of the bed sheets. The house had dreadful stories to tell, you knew it, and deep inside you, you thought it was almost immoral for you to stay there. You were occupying someone else’s house, whatever their fate had been. But, what else could you do? Go out to the streets and hide behind trees or trash cans? You wouldn’t last a week. So you stayed there, rationing provisions and coming up with ways to make them last.

The first night at the house had been relatively quiet. You managed to close and seal all the windows without major effort and barricaded the front and back doors. You also made sure no one was there with you. Living nor dead.

A weak and a half later, or perhaps two weeks, —you didn’t mind counting the days anymore—, you heard something from outside. Voices, not grunting. People. Looking through the window trying not to make yourself noticeable, your eyes stumbled upon a man, a woman and a kid running inside the house across the street. Lying on the floor were three of the dead. 

You thought of telling them to stay with you so you could survive together, but decided to wait just to make sure they weren’t a threat. You still had enough supplies to last a couple more days, so there was no use in leaving the house. In theory, and if they didn’t decide to scavenge there, you could keep an eye on them and make a decision.

And so you did. Two days, not more, not less. You scrapped the last tuna can, knowing it was expired and that your stomach would hate you in a few hours. But at the end of the world that was the least of your worries.

Morgan, father. 

Duane, son. 

Jenny, used-to-be-mother, used-to-be-wife, now one of the dead walking in the streets. You felt guilty for not even realizing she had died. You hadn’t heard anything, you didn’t know when it had happened either. 

Listening to their story broke your heart and made you wonder what might’ve happened to your family back at home. Was their city still standing? They were a few states to the west, how long would it take you to get there? Was it worth the risk? Were they alive? Were they looking for you? Since you had to escape from your apartment you had forbidden yourself to think about nothing else but surviving. Every time memories of your family struck your mind, you would put up a wall to avoid rambling.

The first night with the two of them caught you breaking down and crying yourself sleep. You felt safe for the first time in a long time. You knew someone was near you, watching in case something went wrong, so naturally, your guard didn’t stay up. You didn’t stop it from crumbling down, though, the following day could find you all alone again and if you had to cry, it had to be under a roof with people taking care of you. Even having Duane around helped, as young as he was.

You lied on the mattress curled up in a ball, trying to cry in silence but failing miserably. Your sister, where was she? Where were her friends? Did she make it?

She had gone camping with friends a week before hell broke loose, and you hadn’t heard from her since. She hadn’t called  you, hadn’t texted nor tried to contact you in any way. Maybe she didn’t know how bad things had gotten. You remembered how she joked about some cannibal she had heard from in the news, just before she left.

“If shit goes down you’ll be the first to die,” she joked, “Imma survive like the badass I am.”

“I may not be in the best shape but I’m strong as hell,” you replied.

“You are, but I’m fast, I can outrun a thousand of those flesh-eating psychos. And have you seen how hot I am? Hollywood says I’ll survive.”

“Okay, try not to run into any of them in the woods then! Hollywood loves a good plot twist.”

That was it. Those had been your last words. You tried to comfort yourself saying that at least it wasn’t a fight and that, maybe, being away from the city had kept her safe.

You had waited for her. You had, even with your not-so-dead roommate and her boyfriend locked in her room. It had been days before you decided you had to go out looking for her, but life had tricked you and forced you to stay inside. At least your ankle was better, you decided you would start looking for her as soon as it was fully healed.

“Always go for the head. I’m not giving you a gun, the sound attracts more of them, but the knife will do.”

You nodded but couldn't ignore your pounding heart. You were about to face the creep that had been wandering around the backyard that day, and even though Morgan would be close enough to save your ass if things went south, it was still dangerous. Probably the most dangerous thing you had done in your life. Brave was the last word you would use to describe yourself. Yeah, you were physically strong, but you'd rather stay safe, and if something involved the smallest amount of danger, you would avidly try to avoid it.

Morgan stood behind you with his hands holding your shoulders, slightly pushing you out of the house through the back door.

"The head. Don't waste time. If it grabs you, go for its knee and break it." His tone was cold and determined. He had done that before... teaching someone how to take down creeps, with Duane. But Duane was braver, he had the courage you lacked.

You were trembling, and it got worse as soon as you saw what used to be a woman. She was blonde, and wore a graphic grey shirt, probably not older than twenty-something.

Around your age.

You could spot at least three bite marks on her arms, and her clothes were bathed in blood so dark it almost looked black. Besides the mess, it seemed as if she had been dead for no longer than a few days. She had had a life before becoming a victim of the twisted, sick joke life was then. You could've been her. You could be her in no time if you didn't put yourself together. Your sister, if she was still alive, could be her if you didn't learn how to protect her.

"Morgan, Morg-" your voice shook, it was desperate and loud. So much that the undead in front of you realized you were there.

Noise attracts them, you remembered.

"Go, now, I'm here.”

He let go of your shoulders, and suddenly you felt extremely vulnerable. You felt small, defenseless, and it didn't help that the thing was walking faster towards you, with its arms in front of it, ready to grab you as soon as it was close enough. Your knife was heavy as if you weren't supposed to use it, as if it wasn't yours to have. The creep was getting closer to the porch you both stood in, and when its feet stomped on the steps, your heart raced.

You were frozen even when you felt its hands grabbing your clothes, making you stumble to your side and bump into a small garden table. Only then you reacted, stabbing the undead in its eye. It fell down on top of you, and you weren't sure if it was its body weight or the adrenaline, but you couldn't breathe.

"Daddy, daddy!" Duane's voice was faint but clear, he sounded frantic, and not that far away from where you two were.

You saw Morgan approaching you and pulling the corpse from on top of you, he looked pissed off. The guilt eating you alive, and before you could say anything, he was running off to find his son. You followed him to the street without speaking a word.

"Daddy, I got this sonovabitch! Imma smack him dead!" Duane held a shovel standing next to someone. He was lying on the garden of one the houses

Something, not someone. It, not him. You had to remind yourself.

You saw Morgan shoot a creep as if it was nothing, making you wonder if you'd ever be able to do the same. You were weak, you could only hide and expect to never run into one of those things. Not for the first time, you wondered if you would survive, or for how long.

You ran towards them as they spoke. Morgan looked agitated, he was staring at the undead with a frown.

"Duane!" You almost shouted when you stood next to him. "Are you okay?" Your breath was still heavy and irregular, not to mention you were certain your heart was on the verge of exploding.

"Son, you know they don't talk."

And it hit you. You had found someone, you weren't completely alone in the world. Finding Morgan and Duane had been a surprise to you, and now someone else? You felt a hurricane of emotions take over you.

On one hand, you felt hopeful. You realized that you weren't the only ones who had made it. It allowed you to think that maybe your sister had made it too, wherever she was.

On the other hand, this stranger was wearing a hospital robe, he looked pale and skinny, almost malnourished. Not to mention the old bandages he had on his side. What if he had been locked up all this time? Then, in a way, it made sense that he was able to survive that long. Maybe it was just pure luck.

You kneeled next to him and hovered over his body to check the wound, you needed to see if it was a bite or a scratch, he could turn in any moment and kill you all.

"No! Y/N!" Morgan cried out, making you jump back to your place standing next to Duane. You felt fifteen years younger. As if you were a child being scolded by your dad.

For the past few days, Morgan had been something like a father figure to you, anyway. But you should've been able to take care of yourself, it wasn't fair for him. He didn't have to take care of anyone but his son and himself. Nevertheless, he chose to let you in. He had fed you, he tried to teach you what he knew and didn't give up in the process. You owed him, and you swore you would find a way to repay him someday.

"Hey Mister, what's the bandage for?"

[madbucker]

eugene: i am, as the kids say, awake

y/n:

y/n: ... do you mean woke??

eugene: i did mean woke but it’s grammatically incorrect

[madbucker]

US Helplines:

Depression Hotline: 1-630-482-9696

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Exhale: After Abortion Hotline/Pro-Voice: 1-866-4394253

Child Abuse: 1-800-422-4453

UK Helplines:

Samaritans (for any problem): 08457909090 e-mail jo@samaritans.org

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b-eat youthline (for under 25’s with eating disorders): 08456347650 (open Mon-Fri 4.30pm - 8.30pm, Saturday 1pm-4.30pm)

Cruse Bereavement Care: 08444779400 e-mail: helpline@cruse.org.uk

Frank (information and advice on drugs): 0800776600

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Trinidad and Tobago: 868-645-2800

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(Source)

[madbucker]

hello! i loved your daryl fic, and i was also wondering if you could recommend some you like!

Thank you so much, babe! I’m so happy you liked it ♥ and yes, of course! I’ll assume you’re asking for Daryl fics. I’ve reblogged some in the past but here’s a list of the ones that I can think of right off the bat:

Jersey on my mind by @stonecoldjerseyfox — you’re gonna love the characters and how complex they are. I’ve already said it a thousand times, but I promise you’ll like it! And I can’t stress this enough: you have to read this.

The first to blow your mind & its sequel First and Last by @twdeadfanfic — I have no words! It’s so sweet and I could actually feel what the characters felt. Loved it. This writer also has other amazing stuff so make sure to check their masterlist!

THIS REWRITE by @twdeadlysins — in all caps because I SWEAR it’s addictive, you’ll catch up in a day. I’m usually not patient enough to read rewrites lol but THIS ONE? this one is different.

Red Sky At Morning by @phen0l — Y/N being extremely smart and not so much of a badass at the beginning? YES, give it to me! You can already see her growth tho, it makes the situation a lot more ‘real’. Amazing.

@pastanest‘s entire Masterlist. — Couldn’t actually pick one, so just read everything. You’re gonna binge-read their entire work in one sitting, that’s for sure!

I forgot SO MANY, I know, I’m sorry :(

That being said: if you are a writer and want me to read something of yours, or if you want to give your own recommendations, my ask box is ALWAYS open! I don’t really care about the pairing, so don’t worry about that :)

[madbucker]

Silhouettes | Daryl Dixon.

Daryl Dixon x female reader.

II. 

Season 9, directly after chapter I.

MASTERLIST.

Loosely based on the song We Will Become Silhouettes by The Postal Service.

Summary: After Rick’s death Daryl pushed himself away, but he still had someone who would check on him. Y/N cared for him and wanted to make sure he was okay.

Warnings: language, gore stuff (twd style), mentions of death. Will add more warnings depending on the chapter’s content. Let me know if you think it needs some other warning!

Word count: 1.6k

Author’s note: First things first, I’m not a native English speaker, so bear with me! You can send me a message or an ask pointing out some mistakes so I can edit the post. Also, it will help me learn the language, so don’t hesitate! If you have any questions or want me to write about a situation in particular (like how they met, runs, the prison, or whatever you come up with) just send me an ask and if I feel like it fits with the story, then I’ll write it! Anyway, if you are into simple writing and limited vocabulary, then I hope you like it and as I said before, I’ll gladly take constructive criticism! ♥ I MEAN IT, CORRECT ME, PLEASE lol

Gif’s not mine.

The morning breeze kept you awake despite your heavy eyes. You had been smart enough to bring a couple of extra coats to stay warm, but the cold air was sharp on your face. It could’ve been worse, though, winter was still far away enough for you to see it as a break from the hot summer days. Everything was still beautifully green, but if you squinted your eyes you could spot some brown leaves.  Fall had always been your favorite season, even before. 

The sky was clear again, dark blue turning lighter in the horizon with a tint of orange. You were one for sunsets, always had, but you couldn't help but admire the beauty of the world at that moment. Even if it had turned into what it had.

After Rick's death, you almost were forced to be grateful for the smallest things. You didn't want to lose yourself, and as someone wisely said to you six years before at the CDC: you had to find something to survive for. It didn't take you long to find it: the group had become that something. And sooner than later, you realized that not only had they become people you would survive for.

You wanted to live for them.

As years went by, people died, you found others and some of them died too. But the spirit of your reason to live remained there. They were not only your motive but your drive.

All of that almost broke apart when Grimes left you all, but the little things kept you sane.

Rosita asking you to help her train people, teaching Judith the alphabet, Tara welcoming you in The Hilltop even after Michonne's decision and the both of you jamming out to one of Georgie's records… and when you needed to get away from the mess: sunrises, rain, walking barefoot on the asphalt, the smell of the air after a storm.

A lot had happened and in the middle of it all you lost your way more than once. You had been mercilessly vicious and had let rage take over you. You had met death face to face, played with fire more times than you could count. How funny it was, the words that had pulled you back from the dark were the ones of the one and only Shane Walsh.

Find something to survive for.

You repeated them to yourself every time you felt your humanity and your spirit were at stake, or every time you considered giving up. You replayed them the time you had thought of leaving your family because you just couldn’t take it anymore.

Remember who you have to survive for.

Live for them.

Live for them because everything had gone to shit and if you were going to die soon, then at least make it a little bit nicer before saying goodbye for good.

Live because they deserve to do it too.

The zipper of the tent and Daryl's head popping up out of it stopped your wandering.

He deserves it, you thought at the sight of his sleepy but well-rested face. His hair was messy and his puffy eyes gave away how much he had needed to rest.

"Told ya to wake me up." He spoke, his throat dry enough from the snoring to make him cough.

"Nah, didn't want to interrupt your beauty sleep," you stood up and stretched your entire body that was stiffer than you imagined.

If you had to be completely honest, you had rested your eyes for a few minutes when you had made sure the night was quiet enough. But your eyelids felt heavy, and if it weren't for the cold you would be begging for him to take over so you could sleep.

You were okay, you could hold on for a few more minutes. Hours, even, if you tried.

He got out of the tent, and ignoring your determination to stay on watch, he signed you to get in.

"Ya can't keep on doin' that." He didn't sound annoyed, but it did come off as an order, and you knew you wouldn't be able to convince him otherwise.

You stood there, aware that at any moment you would have to get inside the tent. Not entirely because of him, but because the idea was actually starting to grow on you. Sleeping away from Alexandria where no one could knock on your door and ask you to do anything. You could rest knowing someone you trusted was there to keep you safe. But it also meant wasting time, in a way. Time you could spend talking to him and making sure he had everything he needed to stay in the woods, reading him to see if you would have to come back in days, or if he needed to be alone for a while longer.

Were you worrying too much?

He had chosen to sleep uncomfortably, to spend cold nights outside and hot days under the sun. Of course you were worrying just enough. He was fully capable of taking care of himself, he had proven that to you, and himself since he was a kid. But he didn't have to. Maybe you checking in made him feel at ease just for a second, and you were definitely taking that chance.

The tent, the warmth, him still being close to you... it wasn't that bad. Not at all. But for the first time in a long time, he had let you stay without complaining, asking you to leave or putting on his signature facade of not needing anyone, ever. There were things you wanted to say, like the fact that you missed him and that Judith had been asking for him.

"I'll go. In ten." You sat back down and patted the floor next to you. He reached inside the tent and grabbed his crossbow, then sitting cross-legged, facing you instead. You realized he figured out you wanted to talk.

"I guess I have to be straightforward, right?" You started speaking, your voice shaking, surprising you. He didn't say anything, his sight lost somewhere over your right shoulder. "I know you can take care of yourself, and I love that. I wouldn't even think of letting you spend one night outside the walls if it weren't like that." You joked but scolded yourself right after. Out of every copying mechanism you had, that was probably the worst one. "I just need you to tell me-"

You hadn't finished when he looked at you in the eyes, making you stop and expect him to lash out on you. You knew him and chances were you were stepping over some boundaries. Who were you to talk to him as if he was a teenager with communication issues? He was a grown-ass man who had gone through so much shit. He was older than you, too, you weren't in any position to reprimand him or insist on something he clearly wanted to ignore.

"'m not okay." He said before you could retract your words. It was short, simple, and you hadn't expected it, but even then, that plain sentence was filled with so many emotions.

You let go of a breath you didn't realize you were holding and relaxed a little bit. Leaning forward, you stretched your arms and placed your hands on each of his knees.

"You don't have to be." You spoke softly as you straightened yourself, your eyes never leaving his. "And I respect the fact that you're out here, still looking. I would never want to change that."

He lifted his right hand and chewed the skin of his thumb. You noticed how he tightened his lips as he bit the inside of his cheek.

He hated it. He wanted that moment to be over and you were well aware of that.

"But I don't want to lose you, Daryl. Losing someone to death is one thing, and probably one of the worst. But losing someone to... themselves?" Your voice was already a whisper and for the second time in less than 24 hours, a knot gripped your throat, tighter than ever. "That's something I won't settle for."

You wouldn’t, even if it took you years of walking through the woods for hours. You had seen it before when Rick lost Lori. Weeks of taking care of Carl and Judith and trying for Carl not to feel his own father slipping away. He had put two and two together, of course, that kid was well aware of almost everything that happened within the group, especially with the people he cared for the most. But you remembered how everyone tried their hardest to fill Rick’s shoes, which at that moment felt huge, not even all of you could fill them in all aspects.

You stayed quiet for a couple of seconds half expecting him to close in again, but even if he didn't mouth any words, his eyes were screaming. You decided you could continue your conversation after he gathered his thoughts. Perhaps all he needed was to be alone for a while.

You got up and headed to the tent, but stopped on your tracks, turning around.

"Daryl, I-" you didn't finish. He was looking at you and you realized you didn't know what to say.

I miss you, I care for you, I'll always be here, I love you, I respect you, I understand, we'll be alright.

But your mouth felt dry and you couldn't find the right words. You stood there, looking at him with your lips barely open and with your hands over your chest.

He nodded as if he understood.

Maybe he does, you thought. Or maybe he’s just cutting me off so I go to sleep. 

You turned around and got into the tent, making yourself as comfortable as you could. It didn't take long for you to feel sleep creeping in.

Yeah, maybe he does.

[madbucker]

Silhouettes

Next chapter tonight! 💜

[madbucker]

i love these! ♥

tagged by: @bakedcrispss ♥

rules: tag 10 followers you want to know better!

name: call me Tina! that’s one of my nicknames

hogwarts house: ravenclaw, but too into slytherin for my liking

favorite animal: panthers! and wolves

cats or dogs: cats but I also love dogs

dream job: lawyer (studying for that!), and probably actress in my next life lol EDIT: I’m just editing this to say that me studying to be a lawyer and being a Ravelclaw with Slytherin tendencies makes SO much sense ??

when i made this blog: like seven or eight years ago, I think I was 14... but i never used it until now

why the url: I’m also a big Marvel fan! and Sebastian Stan... yeah, don’t have to add much to that. I guess it’s a mix between Bucky and his character in OUAT, Mad Hatter. I hate it, though, I kinda want to change it.

tag: I’m tagging anyone who wants to do it! Tag me in it so I can see it, please ♥ I don’t talk to anyone here and I don’t want to bother you haha

tag game!

tagged by: @excusemin, thank you love!

rules: tag 10 followers you would like to get to know better!

name: noor!

gender: female

hogwarts house: slytherin?? ravenclaw?? one or the other

favorite animal: panthers, or really all big cats

current time: 3:41pm

cats or dogs: cats have a special place in my heart

dream job: actress ob-gyn

when I made this blog: summer 2015 hhhh me and you on the tumblr girl bandwagon sammy 

reason for my URL: papillon is a reference to the loml jackson wang so umm i’m the girlfriend 

tagging some new moots n followers!: @salvejoon, @chimoona, @cypherthetransmasc, @crashing-f, @loser-dot-com, @yeojaa, @moccahobi, @lumins, @bisoo-ausucre, @moonlytae feel free to do this if you’d like!

[madbucker]

Once again, and as always: wow! Few fics have their characters feel this real. Loved every word and every chapter. There’s something about Daryl not being able to fully control himself and his feelings around Mila that just DOES IT for me, you know? I love that side of him! And I admire her for just going at it haha

Side note: Juri’s teddy bear?! I’m a HUGE Pearl Jam fan, I have Tremor Christ’s lyrics tattooed and I’m trying to come up with a ‘visual concept’ of Light Years to also get tattooed sometime in the -hopefully- near future! I always say that being contemporary to Eddie Vedder is one of the best things in the world and that I’m so glad he’s still with us! (given the fact that most of the grunge frontmen have already passed away -I’m still grieving Scott Weiland and Chris Cornell-).

Sorry, I kinda got overly excited about that, lol

Jersey on my mind (part 22)

Daryl grabs a hold of Mila’s wrist as people start shouting at each other to flee, running in all directions to find somewhere to put themselves to safety. He drags her along, tears her down with him into the tall grass and covers both of their heads with his arms, just as the badly damaged tower topples onto the wall surrounding Alexandria, crashing through it like a ship breaking a wave. The sound is deafening, drowns out all shouting and every ‘watch out’ and makes him pull Mila closer in underneath his body, as the building hits the ground and is smashed to pieces, creating a shiver through the ground underneath them. Debris and pieces of shattered wooden boards rains like hail over the area, followed by a thick cloud of dust. 

His heart beats like a freight train. Against his arm, the one that’s tightly wrapped around Mila, he can feel her heart pound just as frantically as his inside her chest. They’re safe, alive. Dusty, sprinkled with debris, but unharmed. But the danger is far from over. Daryl rises from the ground and helps Mila up on her feet. Coughing and squinting, they look around the foggy dust cloud. He tries to orientate himself, to figure out how big the damage is. The answer to his question is served to him just as the thought is created inside his head. From behind the big pile of rubble, which just seconds ago was the church tower, and the now shattered wall, he sees something moving in the thick cloud. Something that’s not supposed to be on this side of the wall. But the wall is down and the patient horde that’s been standing on the other side of it for days, night and day, is flooding into the Safe-Zone, eager for something to eat. Somewhere not too far away in the cloud, he hears Rick shout:

“Everyone, get back! Get into your houses, go!”

“Rick!”

“Daryl?” Rick responds, followed by gunshots. “Get people inside!” 

In the corner of his eye, Daryl sees Mila, covered in dust and scrapes of white paint from the church facade, lifting her rifle in the same direction he’s looking, and fires off a burst of bullets into the approaching horde. Daryl raises his crossbow at the newcomers, shoots an arrow into the forehead of a dead woman on the left flank, but there are too many for them to handle on their own. They have to hide, quickly.  

”There’s too many!” Daryl shouts at Mila, still shooting her rifle at the walkers, and starts to back away. ”C’mon!”

“I have to find Carol!” Mila hollers and throws the rifle strap over her shoulder. “She has Juri!”

“We gotta get people inside.”

“I need to get Juri!” Mila’s voice is stern, determined. “Get people off the streets, I’ll be fine.” 

Through the deteriorating cloud, Daryl sees Rick half-carrying, half-dragging Deanna over the street in the opposite direction, closely followed by Carl, Gabriel and Ron, and a tail of hungry walkers. He turns just in time to see Mila bolting down the street in the opposite direction, towards the townhouse and the armory, while shouting at people, running down the street, to hide. With one last glance over his shoulder, towards the approaching herd swarming through the hole in the wall, he runs after her. She doesn’t give a crap about anyone else but Juri right now. Outside the armory, their path crosses with Rosita and Tara. 

“Where’s Carol?” Mila brakes in front of them. “Where is she? She has Juri!”

“Saw her with Morgan earlier.” Rosita answers as she inserts a new magazine into her gun. The brown eyes turn concerned at the sight of Mila. “Juri wasn’t with her.”

“I think she left him and Judith with Jessie.” Tara replies out of breath.

Without a word Mila runs off. 

“Get people inside!” Daryl instructs Rosita, who nods, before he runs after Mila. 

He gets to act as eyes and ears for both of them, while Mila’s entire attention is locked on Jessie’s house and Juri. They bump into Rick and the others, as well as Michonne, in the street outside the two story. The front door flies open and Jessie bursts out on the porch, completely terrified. Mila wastes no time.

“You have Juri?” Mila shouts as the blonde woman hurries down the stairs to help the wounded Deanna inside the house. “Where’s Juri!”

Daryl immediately sees, judging by Jessie’s facial expression, that she doesn’t have the boy inside the house with her. The invisible, yet terrible, leather belt around Daryl’s chest returns, and is tightened, when Jessie shakes her head at him and Mila, making the blonde hair dance around her face.

“H-he’s at the pond!” she stutters in reply, close to panicking. “Picking flowers. I didn’t- I just-” 

No. How could she know that something like this would happen? Without giving Jessie a response, Mila turns and starts sprinting in the opposite direction, towards the pond and the walkers, without hesitating. Panic wells up inside Daryl as he runs for all he’s worth after the young woman, who is about to make a frontal collision with the wall of walkers, to find Juri. While Daryl lifts the crossbow, ready to put an arrow in whatever son of a bitch that tries to attack ‘em, Mila wraps her hands around the barrel of her AK74, lifts it over her left shoulder, before sending it off with impressive speed and hitting an approaching walker right in the sweet spot, bringing it to the ground, before she continues to run. It’s like a morbid version of baseball. Daryl attacks as well, using both arrows, fists and knuckles, while searching frantically for the blonde boy over the walker’s heads. Feverishly he scans the pond for ripples on the water, what if he’s fallen into the pond? But it’s as calm as ever.   

”Juri!” Mila shouts, while looking to the right and left, while warding off the nearest walker with her foot, before continuing towards the pond. “Juri!” 

At first Daryl doesn’t see anything else than the walkers that roam around the area, until he spots something bright over some dense green bushes, next to the same small patch of wildflowers he and the boy found during their walk earlier in the day. Of course! 

“I see him!” Daryl shouts at Mila, before sending his knuckles into the head of a walker, forcing it to the ground where he stomps it to death. 

At his exclamation, Mila loses focus for a few seconds. But that’s enough for her to turn from completely lethal to vulnerable. A withering male with greyish skin hanging in rags around his body, crashes into her and Mila falls to the ground. The rickety, male body lands on top of her and the hands try desperately to find something to get a grip around and bring to its mouth. A flush of rage and fear runs throughout his veins and Daryl is about to get over to her, to rip the dead bastard from her and end him off. 

“I’ll handle it. Get Juri!” Mila roars from underneath her attacker while holding the bloodthirsty man’s jaws on an arm’s length with one hand. It looks like she’s on the verge of exploding any minute. “Go!”

Had it been someone else, Daryl had left ‘em to handle the situation; on their own; there’s a kid in distress goddammit! But Mila’s not just anyone. Not anymore. They’re past that stage now, no matter how well she can handle the situation on her own. Daryl holds his breath, as to not lose his composure completely, as he runs towards the struggling pile of limbs that is Mila and the walker on the ground, which both attract more walkers. His trustworthy Busse knife goes into the ripe cranium like if it was made of room tempered butter.

“Don’t forget the knife, Jersey!” Daryl instructs the stark mad woman, as the male walker lands on top of her, before he starts running towards the pond and the bush, where he just saw the blond mane through the foliage.

On the way there, he manages to parry, alternatively knock down about ten walking ragdolls, before Mila has managed to get up on her feet again and covers him with gunfire. Once he finally reaches the bush, at the same time as he sends off two well aimed arrows at two walkers that’s not more than a few meters away, Daryl crouches underneath the branches. 

“Gotta go kiddo.”

Daryl grabs a hold of the boy sitting on the ground, clenching a small bouquet of wild daisies in his right hand. Juri clings to his neck tightly, squeezes it, and Daryl climbs out of the foliage with the boy in his arms. The realization of how many walkers that have entered Alexandria strikes Daryl when he finds himself surrounded by a whole army of ‘em. Just as he’s risen from the ground, one of ‘em decides to attack, but the boy he’s holding is observant, and the light thug at his vest is enough for Daryl to know exactly what Juri means. He raises the crossbow, turns on the spot and shoots the walker point blank. Juri looks around, the blue eyes flicker rapidly and for the first time he seems genuinely worried, and the grip around Daryl’s neck tightens even more. 

“I gotcha, kiddo.” Daryl hushes, holding the crossbow out in front of him. “Gotcha…”

But they’re not completely alone. If a cub’s threatened, the she-wolf isn’t far away, and she shows no mercy. Mila makes her way through the closing crowd as if she was a tank. The blue eyes, which he has seen sparkle like the clearest, brightest night sky, and only hours ago seemed to burn like the inner part of a flame, appears almost black. She shouts something in Russian and Juri, obediently, covers his eyes with his hands and presses his small face into Daryl’s chest, before she starts mowing down the walkers surrounding them with the rifle, creating a path for Daryl to get through to her. As soon as he gets through to the other side of the crowd closing in on ‘em, he hands Juri over to Mila and takes over the task of covering fire, as they start to run back towards the houses. Apart from themselves and the walkers, the streets of Alexandria are completely empty. Daryl can only hope that most residents have managed to put themselves to safety inside. A hungry cluster of walkers has barricaded themselves outside Jessie’s house, but the houses next to it, belonging to them, seem to have been left untouched for now. Although Mila carries both Juri, her rifle and her backpack, filled with shoes and children’s books, she manages to keep up the pace. With the crossbow raised in front of him, ready for anything, Daryl manages to get all three of them safely to the house, up the porch. They crash into the house and he slams the door shut, turns all the locks and grabs the heavy sideboard standing on the right wall and pushes it in front of the door like a door stop, making a table lamp fall to the floor with a crash. Both he and Mila pants breathlessly where they stand in the hallway, listening to the dragging, clumsy footsteps on the porch. 

“Upstairs.” Daryl whispers in a breath. “Get upstairs.”

Mila meets his gaze, as to say ‘yeah, all of us’, before she kicks off her shoes, crouches and takes them in her hand, to make as little noise as possible when she hurries up the stairs, with Juri on the arm. Daryl remains in the hallway, staring at the barricaded front door and struggling to figure out what the hell he’s going to do. They hadn’t planned for something like this to happen. There’s no such thing as a plan A, B, or C for this scenario. And here they are, scattered out in hiding over the Safe-Zone, with no chance of contacting each other. He knows Rick and some of them are at Jessie’s house. But what about the others? Maybe it’s because it’s a crisis situation, he has always handled them quite well; but he gets an idea. Was this how Einstein, or whatever that old farts name was, felt? Carefully, as if he had been teleported to the forest and just spotted a deer, Daryl moves silently out into the living room, avoiding the windows, like a shadow. The walkie talkie lies on the coffee table where he left it the night before. There’s a slight chance, about fifty-fifty, that Rick wears his. And if Rick doesn’t answer, someone else might. Daryl never had time to say anything about it earlier, but he saw them clear as day; the balloons. It felt like a ton of bricks fell from his heart at the sight of the cluster of green rubber in contrast to the blue sky, but honestly, most of his focus was directed at Mila and the ‘us’-speech he never got to finish. One, or some, of their own had returned and was out there, on the other side of that wall.

[madbucker]

omg you’re gonna make me cry, thank you so much!!

in your opinion, who’s the best twd/daryl writer on tumblr??

Oooh - good question nonny! I cannot pick only one so I am going to link a bunch of my favourite fics at the moment and that should lead you to a bunch of talented blogs! And I am certain this will keep you preoccupied for a while!

EDIT: this isn’t a set list - there are so many amazing blogs that my silly brain can’t remember right now!

@imamotherfuckingstar-lord‘s Numb one-shot

@twdeadfanfic‘s Silence mini-series, Warm mini-series and Period one-shot

@pastanest‘s Got Someone Waitin For Me one-shot

@daryls-angell‘s Scars Make Us Beautiful

@phen0l‘s Red Sky At Morning series

@puppypopcornpizza‘s Drabble

@crossbowking‘s Space Between Us one-shot

@writerzunite‘s Affection HC and Fluff Alphabet

@madbucker‘s Silhouettes

@twdeadlysins‘s Amazing TWD Rewrite series and Together one-shot

@sourwolf-sterek32‘s Sunshine one-shot

@twdsunshine’s Space one-shot and Something To Live For one-shot

@thewalkingdead-imagines‘s Masterlist

@therantygeek‘s I See You one-shot and Something Worth Having one-shot

@ftwdimagines‘s Stressed one-shot

@rhyatt-deauxtreve‘s whole blog (if I am being frankly honest), but especially, Skin Stories one-shot

And finally, there is a Daryl x Reader one-shot set in winter where they are cuddled up in front of the fire in Alexandria after a hard day in the snow, where the reader freaks out after a surprise attack from walkers -- I cannot remember who wrote it for the life of me, but I remember how good it is! [if anyone knows, please tag me in it again!]