#WDWG

[xiaq]

I may not ever get over this absolutely gorgeous bind that @poppypressbindery created of Way Down We Go. The attention to detail is confounding and really emphasizes that bookbinding is an art; this bind in particular is a masterpiece. And the way it was wrapped/delivered?? Absurdly pretty. The stickers and bookmarks? Unnecessarily kind. The fact that folks like Tyler exist who love fic so much that they create beautiful physical versions of them (and then offer to send copies to the writer! For free!) is just so cool. I love fandom.

[ficnation]

Chapter 6: Facing the Strangers

Series: Way Down We Go || Season 1 Word count: 2,5k+ Pairing: Rick Grimes x Female! Reader; Shane Walsh x Reader; Daryl Dixon x Sister! Reader Warnings: usual twd themes A/n: Aye, it's WDWG time! I wanted this chapter to be as packed with tension as it was possible. Let me know your thoughts and theories! If you’re not on the taglist but you’d like to be added let me know!

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You woke up to the warmth of the morning sun, the rays streaming into the backseat of the car where you had fallen asleep. Merle snored in the reclined passenger seat, his boots propped up on the dash. You shifted your body into a sitting position, the wound on your side still aching horribly. You clenched your teeth and peeked through the window, gaze searching for Daryl and his beloved crossbow. 

Your younger brother stood near the lake, observing the water shimmering in the morning sun. He was finally taking a break from patrolling the perimeter. You wondered how long it has been since he got some rest—some real sleep—not a fifteen-minute-long nap. 

After the stunt Merle pulled at your camp near Turner Reservoir, you both agreed you’d not let him take another watch shift alone. You, though injured, were more trustworthy than him in spotting incoming threats and getting rid of them. Merle turned out to be too reckless, and you couldn’t risk coming all this way just for him to fuck up again.

As you stretched, the car creaked with your movement, the sound of metal and fabric shifting before settling into silence again. You slid out of the vehicle, unbothered by the loud slam of the door as you pushed it closed behind you. You secretly hoped it was clamorous enough to wake Merle from his deep slumber.

Daryl looked up from his spot near the water as you dragged your feet forward, rubbing the sleep away from your eyes. At least your injury wasn’t pulsing as painfully as it did the day before—that was a win in your book.

“You should get some sleep, Daryl,” you said when you reached him, standing by his side and looking at the water ahead. It was so peaceful.

“Don’ think tha’s a good idea,” he replied, looking you up and down, lost in thought. “Does it still hurt like a bitch?”

“Yeah, but less than yesterday.” You hid your yawn behind your palm. You only managed to get a few hours of sleep—the pain on your side was too unbearable to allow more than that. “Seriously, you should kick Merle out of the car and take a nap yourself,” you insisted, studying the dark circles underneath his eyes and the paleness of his face.

“Nah, I should probably catch us somethin’ to eat.” Daryl stretched his arms above his head with a groan before letting them drop down to his sides.

“Can I go with you?” you asked with an excited glint in your eyes.

You used to do that together when you were kids—when Will took you to the cabin and all the cupboards were empty. Every mention of your hunger was a reason for him to lash out; he used to yell about how ungrateful you were, saying you should finally learn to fend for yourself. You were just a kid, and you had to worry about finding something to satisfy your hunger because your own father was an asshole who refused to provide for you.

Although Daryl is younger than you, he was always the resourceful one while you followed him like a lost puppy, clumsily stumbling over every branch and rock. When you got lost in the woods, he was the one who got you food and clean water as you bawled your eyes out. He was the one who taught you which berries and mushrooms are safe to eat and which can make you wish you were dead.

You shook your head to will the memories away as Daryl responded, “Nah, ya should stay ‘ere with Merle.” Just when you were about to protest, he fixed you with a challenging quirk of his eyebrow and you instantly shut your mouth. “Yer wounded.”

You groaned in exasperation, then nodded your head in agreement. You had no reason to get pressed—even though you could move a little bit easier now, you’d still be a nuisance to him on a hunting trip. “Alright,” you mumbled in agreement.

The moment the words left your lips, your ears picked up noise in the distance. You whipped around toward your brother, meeting his gaze in a silent question. His squinted eyes told you that he heard it too.

The noise got closer and closer with every passing second—its source was definitely heading your way. You could see the gears turning in Daryl’s head as he realized the same thing.

“Get to the fuckin’ car!” he ushered you, swinging his crossbow off his shoulder while his unoccupied hand pushed you gently toward the vehicle.

You listened to him without a second thought, moving forward as fast as your legs allowed you to. You got to the car just in time for another vehicle to come barreling forward and skidding to a stop by the lake, and the large boulders you occupied yesterday. As the door to the black Jeep Wrangler opened, Daryl’s crossbow was already raised and aimed in that direction.

First, a muscular man jumped out of the driver’s seat, then the other doors opened, and a few women exited the car. They had yet to notice your presence. You felt Daryl nudging your arm—a silent sign to get into the truck before they spotted you.

But before you could do anything, the metal door opened with a loud creak as Merle darted out of it. He had the best timing ever—you had to give him that. You heard the commotion as the strangers finally noticed your group of three. And oh my god, Merle had a gun.

You stopped in your tracks, motionless, your eyes darting toward the newcomers. The driver also pulled out his gun as he started moving toward you. Daryl was saying something to your older brother, but your brain turned itself off, focusing solely on the dark-haired man ahead. He came to a stop not too far away, but not too close either, his weapon raised in your general direction.

You had a chance to give him a good look over as the world seemed to slow down around you. His eyes were dark brown but seemed almost hazel as the morning sun hit them. The hair on his head was black and wavey, a subtle stubble decorating his scowling face.

You don’t know what exactly happened, but suddenly those same rich brown eyes were studying your person, almost concerned. “Ma’am, do you know these men?” he asked, his voice deep as his gaze darted between you and your companions.

Daryl moved in front of you, shielding you away from the stranger’s view. No one answered the man’s question—no one even thought about it. You noticed Merle tense up next to you, clutching tightly the pistol in his hands. The stranger’s expression remained unwavering, but his eyes did glance at your older brother’s weapon briefly before they tried to catch a glimpse of you once more.

A thought popped into your head, and you looked down at your injured side, quickly connecting the dots. Now, you understood the glint of concern in his eyes. Your shirt and jeans were still stained with the dried-up blood—you completely forgot about it.

You peeked over Daryl’s shoulder and your gaze met the stranger’s. You’re not sure what he saw in it, but it somehow encouraged him to take another step forward in your direction. Your heart was pounding hard inside your chest. Everything looked like it was in slow motion, the man’s movement, the crowd behind him watching your stare off, every twitch of your younger brother’s muscles. The silence hung heavily in the air as you waited with bated breath to see who was going to fold first and finally say something.

Someone from the unknown crowd walked over and took a stand by the dark-eyed man. “Ma’am, are you injured? Do you need help?” The voice belonged to a woman, it was gentle, with a hint of annoyance at the unnecessary hostility between your groups. “Shane, put the gun away,” she urged the man beside her with a hushed tone—almost a whisper.

Shane listened to her, and although tentatively, he did lower his weapon. The woman stepped forward with a confident walk, escaping the arm that shot out to keep her from going any further. She was a woman on a mission, you could respect that. Her gaze locked on Daryl as she tried to sidestep him, but his aim followed her. You could hear Shane say something to her—maybe even to all of you—but your brain didn’t quite catch it, once again. Merle was oddly quiet.

“Woman, ya step any closer an’ I’ll blow yer pretty brains outta tha’ head.” Yep, he's still here.

Merle didn’t take his gaze off her, he was still clutching the gun, ready for the stranger to try something. Daryl looked even more uneasy than before, and you wondered whether the end of the world squashed all of your trust in humanity into the ground or have you always been like that—you were leaning more towards the second theory. Your older brother, however, seemed calm, like he was the only one who was in control of the situation. He looked around, sizing everybody up with a mean look in his Dixon blues.

“Where did you come from?” Shane asked, tensing up as your older brother stepped into the woman’s path when she tried to sidestep Daryl again.

You noticed the mocking snort that escaped Merle, his knuckles almost white from gripping that pistol so tight. Maybe he wasn’t as sure of himself as he was pretending to be. You had a feeling he was about to do something stupid.

You grabbed him by the wrist, shaking your head disapprovingly. He rolled his eyes, but let you pull him back, seeing the imploring look in your eyes. Don’t do it.

The unknown man’s expression grew darker when he noticed you weren’t really caving in. “Drop your weapons,” he ordered. “We don’t wanna harm you.”

Daryl and Merle didn’t say a word, simply refusing to give up their weapons. You lifted your leg, then kicked the old man in the calf, not too hard, but not too delicately either. He dropped the pistol in resignation, grunted, and pushed it a step away with his foot. Daryl agreed wordlessly and lowered his crossbow.

“Wha’ do ya all want from us?” Merle barked out, towering over the petite woman that finally gave up, understanding she wasn’t going anywhere near you.

You don’t know what gave it away, but the strangers seemed to understand the two men at your side were your friends rather than kidnappers.

“We have a camp nearby. We come here almost every day,” the woman spoke, looking you up and down once you sidestepped the protective wall consisting of your two brothers. “Are you injured?”

“She’s good. Old blood,” Daryl responded to her question. He was met with a suspicious look from the strangers once again.

“The woman can speak for herself, for fuck’s sake.” Shane sighed deeply, clearly annoyed by the whole situation already.

“She don’ speak.”

“Oh…” You took the chance to look the brunette up and down. She was quite skinny with sharp cheekbones and long wavy hair with side-swooped bangs. From her behavior, you figured out she was a classic example of a woman who thought she was untouchable.

“Can I at least take a look at it?” she proposed—a pinch of concern in her voice.

You noticed the way her companion looked at her with admiration at her “selfless” attitude—like a love struck teenager. You guessed he was probably her husband—a lover at least. The man must’ve felt your eyes boring into him, he met your gaze, making you withdraw it instantly. The texture of the ground beneath your feet suddenly seemed far more interesting.

“Wha’? Ya wanna get a chance to feel up mah lil’ sister?” Merle, please, shut your fucking mouth.

“Dressing’s old. Might probably need a change, or it’ll get infected,” Daryl’s response surprised you, your eyes shot up to his face and the worry-etched frown decorating it.

“We have a medical kit back at our camp. We can bring it around, or you can come with us.” The brunette seemed just as shocked as you did, judging by her expression. She probably expected him to put up a fight and refuse to say anything about your injury. “You didn’t set up camp anywhere nearby, did you?”

“Nah, we’re jus’ passin’ through.” Daryl’s shoulders relax visibly as he let out a deep breath. “Plannin’ to head into Atlanta once ‘er wound heals up a little.”

“Atlanta?” Shane snorted loudly, earning himself a disapproving shake of his companion’s head. “Man, you got a death wish?”

You glared at him, his tone toeing the line between surprised and sarcastic. Judging by the scowl that started growing on Merle’s face—he was the one who had a death wish. Shane must’ve felt your eyes boring into his face, he stood a little straighter, holding your gaze.

“Place is swarmed with those things,” the woman added, nodding her head in agreement. Her eyes darted between you and Shane, a frown growing between her thin eyebrows.

“You heard ‘bout the refugee camp?” Shane asked as his gaze left yours, focusing on your younger brother instead. Daryl’s nod confirmed his suspicions. “It’s not there anymore. Don’t think it survived the napalm.”

The archer looked at you, and you could almost see the gears turning in his head. You could’ve met the same fate if you didn’t leave the city to look for them. The thought that he could’ve lost you made him sick to his stomach. He exhaled deeply, his chest shaking with the trembling of his breath. You squeezed his arm briefly—a simple reassurance that you’re still there in one piece.

“Guess our plan jus’ died,” he mumbled out, mostly to you and Merle. His words were a weight off your chest.

Shane eyed Daryl’s crossbow, and an idea popped into his head. “You good with that thing?” He nodded his head toward the weapon, making the archer look between him and the crossbow confused.

“Shoots since he was a lil’ bastard,” Merle butted in before his brother could muster up a response. “Should’ve seen how many squirrels and bucks he brings back from huntin’.”

There was an uneasy feeling stirring up in your gut, Merle had a plan, and you were almost one hundred percent sure it wasn’t one worth considering. God, you’d give anything to know what silly little idea he brewed up in this empty skull of his. But he put it in motion before any of you could talk him out of it. Seeing the amazement in the brunette’s eyes and the silent understanding between her and her friend—it was too late for you to save the situation.

“You guys have a tent?” The man asked, crossing his muscular arms over his chest. Did you just see the corner of his mouth quirk up?

“Nah, why?”

Taglist: @yttricuz @twdeadlysins @donttelltheelff @spidergirla5 @depressedfrog2 @clemscult @lonewolf471 @btsiguess-kpop @notquitecannon @the-daily-multi-fandom-post @xhannahbananax03 @sourwolf-sterek32 @wonderful-writer @phoenixblack89 @yolobloggers @sexyseabass @sweetpotatospock @witch-of-letters @capsiclesdoll @kingtwhiddleston @incorrectcapsicle @queentorresstuff @witheringblooddemon @hopefulatrocity ​ @jaiboomer11 @mewlingoizys

[nekojitachan]

That scene from way down we go where Andrew kisses the whiskey shot into Neil’s mouth at Eden’s lives rent free in my head just want you to know

You and me both

[leather-n-laces]

[locallysourcedheroics]

[xiaq]

LOOK. AT. THIS. omg. I love it.

Inspired by Way Down We Go by @xiaq 🪄

Draco and Harry found a way to snuggle together while remaining as clueless, platonic best bros and it's a bit hilarious and very sweet, so I had to draw it :)

[xiaq]

Shut up. People are making tiktoks about Way Down We Go??

[ficnation]

Chapter 5: The Quarry

Series: Way Down We Go || Season 1 Word count: 2,8k+ Pairing: Rick Grimes x Female! Reader; Shane Walsh x Reader; Daryl Dixon x Sister! Reader Warnings: usual twd themes A/n: I’m sorry that this one is shorter. It’s kinda a filler chapter just so I can set the scene and get back into this series. I still hope you enjoy it! <3 If you’re not on the taglist but you’d like to be added let me know!

𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐖𝐄 𝐆𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 || 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 

It all happened so quickly that you could barely remember how you found yourself lying in the back of the pickup truck, pressing down on the gnarly wound on your side with all the force left in you. The blood kept running down your body, seeping into the seat and leaving a nasty stain that’ll probably stay there, forgotten for the rest of your days.

“Ya ain’t bleedin’ out in my car, Baby,” Daryl declared confidently, but his voice reached your ears, muffled by the constant ringing in your head.

You felt lightheaded and could barely think—speaking wasn’t even an option. You let out a quiet grunt in response, eyes almost rolling to the back of your head when the car swayed and bumped on the uneven road. The pain was unbearable, the worst one you’ve ever experienced in your life, but to be fair, you’ve never before been impaled by an arrow. Just the thought of it made the situation you found yourself in just a few hours ago play back in your head.

You could hear the groans of the undead again. You could feel the air thickening and the persistent pulsing of adrenaline in your veins. And when the infected surrounded you, the forest became their playground—a dangerous maze for your group of three.

Daryl ran over to you, grabbed Merle under his other arm, and helped you drag him forward while the latter yelled over and over again how you were all fucked and dead already. His words only made you clench your teeth, tears blurring your vision while you hauled him forward as fast as you could.

You remembered how at some point, you were too tired to get going, so Daryl took all of Merle’s weight onto himself, telling you to get your rifle off your back and shoot. You quickly realized that there were too many of them and the car you left behind was your best shot at escaping.

While you put yourself together and killed off a few stragglers that got too close, Daryl doubled back toward the camp without a word, and you followed in his steps, watching his back.

Going back to the clearing only seemed to worsen your situation. You found yourself stuck between two groups of infected in the middle of the night.

The last thing you remembered was wrestling on the ground with one of those creatures and Daryl getting pushed by another one of them just when he released an arrow to take out the creeper that was trying to rip you apart. The arrowhead pierced through your side at a weird angle but didn’t go all the way through.

You had no other choice, no weapons left. With one hand holding the straggler by the neck at arm’s distance, your other one encircled the arrow in a tight grip, and you pulled it out with a scream. The undead trashed around when it smelled the blood, lowering its jaw toward your stomach. You took the chance and yanked its head back, stabbing the sharp point through its eye with the last drop of your power before everything went black.

“How long has she been like tha’?”

You clenched your eyes shut tighter at the familiar drawl. Your head throbbed painfully, and you were afraid if you opened them, you’d not only have to deal with your asshole brothers but also with the blaring sun that warmed your skin. God, you felt like dying would be less painful and much easier than what you were currently going through.

“Doesn’t matter. She ain’t dead.” You recognized Daryl’s annoyed mumbling.

“I wish I were,” you responded with a raspy voice. You decided to rip the bandaid off, so you opened your eyes wide, wincing from the sudden brightness. “Where are we?”

You blinked fast, trying to get used to the light before you let your eyes wander around the pickup. Daryl was still behind the wheel while your older brother sat in the passenger seat with his boots propped on the dashboard and one arm lazily hanging out of the window.

“Doubled back to Atlanta,” the archer answered, keeping his eyes on the road. “Heard on the radio, they’ve some kind of a shelter there.”

You tried to sit up and look through the window to get an idea of how far you already got, but it only resulted in a painful hiss before you slid down onto your back. It hurt just enough to make you forget about trying again. You lifted up your bloody shirt to assess the damage. The wound on your side was bandaged up now, but you could still see a large splotch of dried blood on it. It must’ve been a while since it was dressed.

“Did you cauterize it?” you asked curiously, your fingernails scratching the flaking blood off your skin but nowhere close enough to the wound for it to make you wince in pain. You’d have to take a long bath in a river to scrub it all off.

“Did we?” Merle looked around the car, surprised by your question.

“Ya didn’t do shit. I cauterized it,” Daryl growled out, rolling his eyes. He glanced in the rearview mirror at you. “Ya were passed out, most likely didn’t feel a thing.”

You nodded gratefully at him. “So…” you drew out, looking curiously between your brothers, “What’s the plan? Last time we doubled back somewhere, it bit us in the ass.”

“We don’ need no plan. We’ve survived without one long enough,” Merle protested, his voice booming.

You rolled your eyes when he gesticulated wildly, almost smacking Daryl in the face. Your younger brother eyed him like he’s lost his mind. How did this guy avoid the massive hangover after the stunt he pulled in the woods? He seemed to be the luckiest of you three, coming out of any situation without a scratch while fate kicked your own ass mercilessly.

“Not sure.” Daryl pulled his bottom lip between his teeth—one of the many nervous habits of his. When you were younger, you used to smack the back of his head when he did that, making him chomp down on it and groan in pain. It always worked. “We’ll see when we’re there. Maybe—”

“Last time I was in the city, it didn’t seem safe. The streets were swarmed with cars and those things,” you butted in before he could finish the next sentence.

It was the truth, but the bigger reason for your resistance had little to do with the undead and blocked streets. You didn’t care if the shelter existed or not. Atlanta was your prison. A prison that you broke out of, and you desperately clung to any reason not to go back there. You took a deep trembly breath, slumping against the seat further when you let it out. You weren’t brave enough to protest more, but you were sure as hell ready to do anything to avoid stepping foot in Atlanta.

The drive to your destination was unnecessarily long and tiring. You spent most of it lying across the backseats, trying to fall asleep, but the constant swaying of the vehicle only made you more aware of the wound on your side. You gave up with an annoyed snarl, making Daryl look back at you in worry.

For the rest of the ride, you busied yourself with trying to stay still. It was a task that turned out to be more difficult than you expected. Your mind was running a thousand miles per hour, and you could do nothing to stop it. You were far too close to the city for your comfort.

Daryl slowed down the car when you reached the blocked main road to Atlanta. Merle stuck his head out the passenger’s window and whistled slowly, almost amazed.

“Ain’t no way we’re gonna squeeze through,” he remarked.

“How much gas? Maybe it’s not too late to find a safer place to stay the night,” you butted in, hope already stirring in your head. You wanted to be as far as possible from this damned city.

Daryl glanced up at the gauge, squinting in the evening sun. “Not enough to go on a road trip now. Tank is almost empty.”

A heavy silence fell over the three of you as you tried to figure out the best solution. You didn’t have many options to choose from. If you tried to push through, you’d have to abandon the car, and there was no way your injury would let you take more than ten steps by yourself—and ten was already pushing it.

Daryl shifted his shoulders and looked out into the distance. He sighed and scratched the stubble on his cheek thoughtfully. Then, after another few seconds of contemplation, he turned around toward you.

“Ain’t no way yer gonna walk by yourself?” Merle interjected, firmly inserting themselves into the conversation.

“No fucking chance.” You snorted, shrugging your arms hopelessly. “I can’t even sit up.”

Daryl nodded, then glanced back towards his brother. Merle seemed lost in thought, leaning against the truck’s door handle. He shrugged as well, seemingly indifferent to the situation. That was helpful; if he didn’t open his mouth, you had a better chance at convincing Daryl to turn back.

“Well, what do ya think we should do then?” The archer asked, sighing deeply. He had too many backup plans to decide which one would benefit you all or at least give you a chance to survive.

You considered your options carefully. Option one was to abandon the car and try to hitchhike to Atlanta, hoping that you wouldn’t bump into a horde along the way. The second option was to find gas and get back on the road to find some kind of refugee shelter. And the last one was to find a peaceful place nearby where you could get some sleep, eat something and then decide what to do in the following days.

You paused for a moment before answering, choosing your words and the tone of your voice carefully. “Let’s look for a safe place nearby, okay? Then tomorrow, we’ll decide what to do next and see if we can pick up some gas from those cars.”

“Works for me. I’m fuckin’ exhausted,” your older brother agreed, stretching out his legs and kicking them up on the dashboard. He groaned in relief, slumping down against the seat. Merle’s mere existence was giving you a headache.

You didn’t think your younger brother would agree with you from the jump. Damn, you wouldn’t blame him for being skeptical. Your gaze landed on his face, trying to decipher the emotion he was hiding behind those Dixon blue eyes. His eyes remained narrowed in deep thought. You could almost see the whirlwind spinning in his head.

“Aight... Let’s drive,” Daryl murmured finally, turning the ignition on again. He eased forward, pulling the car in reverse before he began driving off into one of the side roads.

This time you’ve won. You exhaled in relief, letting your head fall back against the seat.

As soon as the car came to a complete stop, Merle unbuckled his seat belt and hopped out onto the dirt. You sat up carefully, moving as slowly as possible. You looked out at the sprawling landscape of the quarry, the lake in the middle surrounded by large stones and trees from every side. It could be a good place to stay for a while.

Daryl hopped out of the driver’s seat to open the back door and help you out of the car. Once you were on your feet, you took in the marvelous view. The water shimmered in the evening sun, creating a sparkling effect on the lake’s surface. It was so peaceful, almost like the end of the world you once knew had never happened.

Daryl walked ahead, scoping the area for any potential threats. Merle stayed with you. He leaned against the side of the vehicle, looking around curiously as he whistled a tune under his nose. Your eyes were wide open, keeping a lookout for anyone or anything that could be lurking nearby. You wanted to trust this place so badly, but the world was now too dangerous to be ignorant.

When Daryl finished his stroll, the two of you huddled together near the water, unsure of what to do next. You cautiously lowered yourself onto one of the sizable boulders surrounding the lake, the wound on your side not letting you forget about it even for a second. It was a constant reminder that you were not safe, no matter the serene and peaceful scenery around you.

You wondered whether staying here would be a mistake, but the exhaustion and pain from your previous ordeal left you with little choice. You knew you all needed to rest.

Merle, however, seemed to have other plans. He kept his distance by leaning against the car with a stubborn expression on his face. “If you ask me,” he said loud enough for the two of you to hear him, “we should keep movin’.”

“Yeah, and get attacked by the undead and die?” you chimed in, not quite ready to argue with Merle but having already grown tired of his negativity. He had no right to dictate what was safe and what wasn’t; he let a group of the infected stumble into your camp just because he was drugged out of his mind. You and Daryl could’ve paid with your lives for his slip-up.

“We had a plan,” the man grumbled before Daryl interrupted him.

“She ain’t wrong, Merle. Stayin’ here is the safest of our options right now,” he agreed. Your older brother huffed, seeming unhappy with the decision. God, you wanted to punch him again so badly.

“Man, I don’t get you. You agreed with me when you saw the blocked road. What changed?” you asked, throwing your hands in the air in exasperation. You quickly regretted it when the wound on your side throbbed painfully, making you gasp. Daryl looked at you concerned, but you waved him off wordlessly, your hand reaching to hover over the injury.

“I changed mah mind, so wha’?” Merle responded, folding his arms defiantly across his chest. You were quick to join him, crossing your own arms in an act of defiance as if that made you a true member of the Dixon brothers’ little gang.

“It’s close to the water and far away from any roads,” you argued, trying to make him see reason. “We won’t find a better place anywhere nearby.”

“Yeah, this is jus’ a small-ass quarry. We need a real camp and some damn food.” Merle still wasn’t giving up, sounding increasingly annoyed.

You snorted at his words. “Food won’t magically appear out of thin air.”

“We don’t have enough gas to keep drivin’ back an’ forth,” Daryl reminded him.

You stayed silent, letting your brothers deal with the situation. Your body desperately needed sleep, and your mind wanted nothing more than to escape the chaos of your environment. You just wanted some rest, no matter the location.

Merle scoffed, shaking his head. “I know that I ain’t stupid. Jus’ let’s go find a better place, ’kay?”

The archer rolled his eyes at his brother’s persistence. “What if this is the best we can find?” Daryl raised an eyebrow. He glanced around, surveying the surrounding landscape and trying to find the flaws that his older brother saw in it.

“What if it ain’t?” Merle crossed his arms, glaring at him. He then looked at you, searching for support and finding none. You decided to join the fight now.

“We’re not taking any fucking risks today. I didn’t live through this,” you spoke up suddenly, pointing your finger at the wound on your side, “just to die tonight because the gas ran out, and we still had no place to stay. No fucking way.”

Both brothers were surprised by your outburst—you even surprised yourself. They raised an eyebrow, waiting to see if you’ll continue your angry speech.

Merle perked up, ready to fight your words, he opened his mouth to counterattack, but Daryl cut him off before he could say a word.

“Can ya, for a change, shut up? Yer annoyin’ me,” he snapped at the older man.

Merle’s scowl grew as he figured out he was outnumbered and wasn’t changing your mind anytime soon. Yet, he refused to back off, wanting to have the last word. He got in Daryl’s face and sneered at him.

“I’m tired of yer attitude, Darylina. I told ya we just need to find a better place.”

“We ain’t goin’ anywhere.” Your younger brother held his ground, and you had to admit you admired him for it. You’d have probably faltered if Merle did that to you.

“Fine. Just know, if anythin’ happens, it’s on ya,” the older man grumbled before he stepped back from Daryl and jumped into the car, slamming the door behind himself.

@yttricuz @twdeadlysins @donttelltheelf-x @jessica-mikaelson18 @spidergirla5 @depressedfrog2 @kpopandharry @daryldixonstorm @clemscult @lonewolf471 @btsiguess-kpop @notquitecannon @the-daily-multi-fandom-post @xhannahbananax03 @sourwolf-sterek32 @wonderful-writer @huffledor-able541 @phoenixblack89 @yolobloggers @sexyseabass @sweetpotatospock​ @witch-of-letters @capsiclesdoll @kingtwhiddleston​​ @incorrectcapsicle @queentorresstuff​​ @witheringblooddemon @hopefulatrocity​ ​ 

[nekojitachan]

So I've been reading way down we go (of course) and i really truly absolutely love it but every time they break a cell phone i have to think GOD do they know that they could just get a new sim card. ive been pretending this is an alternate universe where sim cards are not removable. But it's absolutely amazing anyway I'm nearly done with it and it's been barely a week...

LOL, I've had a few (probably more than a few) people point out the SIM card thing, and yes, it's so very true. However, it's much more satisfying to break an entire phone than crack a little-bitty SIM card. The boys (especially Andrew) were venting! Venting, I say! And dramatic AF!

Oh so dramatic.

[xiaq]

Several of my favorites are on this list and I'm so pleased to be among them! Thank you!!

Hello! I'm getting back into fandom after many years and was hoping you could recommend the best (or most popular) drarry fics to come out in the last 5 years?? The longer the better! I'm having such a blast re-reading old favs and would love more to read! Thank you so much!

I was also away from the fandom the past three years, we share the feeling! I'll go for +100k and skip super well known examples (e.g., Grounds for Divorce)

Alucinatio by alexmeg (127k)

"It's... it's not good," Harry tells them lowly. "They've given him a month's time, only." There is so much he needs to explain, but his head is foggy and exhausted and he can't think properly, can't think of how to relay all that he's learned. "Have you heard of Alucinatio?" is what he starts with. "The Daydream potion," Hermione says. "The person who intakes it experiences very vivid and realistic daydreams of all they could ever want, but is essentially in a severely catatonic state out in the external world, incapable of any basic functions." Harry nods. "Somebody's given it to Malfoy." He remembers the tattered remains of a black coak wrapped around Malfoy. "I think it might have been Professor Snape." They take a minute to process that. "And... the cure?" Ron asks. "Tears of anyone the experiencer craves love of," Hermione answers.

I Do Not Love You by Writ_and_romance (228k)

In 2013, a carefully-designed Obliviation leaves Harry reconfiguring his life and identity without any memories of true love; an act that’s essentially erased Draco Malfoy from his mind despite a wedding band and shared home. In 2000, Draco had expected Pansy’s relationship with Luna to bring the Gryffindors a bit closer to his orbit of quiet, carefully pacifistic existence, but he never expected to navigate such a transparent embrace into a unit of family, friendship, and love. A mystery, two love stories, and a reminder that learning to love never has an end date.

Nor All That Glisters by @sweet-s0rr0w (110k)

Lonely and frustrated on house arrest, with no prospects for the future, Draco begins brewing Felix Felicis in an attempt to improve his lot. Just in the short term, of course. He isn’t a total idiot.

But before long he finds himself with a thriving business, a nice flat, some actual (albeit irritatingly Gryffindor) friends, and a very satisfying sex life. What’s more, no-one is hexing him in the street. And Harry Potter is single, and gorgeous, and giving Draco decidedly interested looks.

Stop taking the Felix? You must be joking���

Soup-pocalypse and The Great Curry Cataclysm by @norelationtoatticus (104k)

Eleven years after the war, Draco Malfoy leads a quiet, boring, and perfectly respectable life, thanks very much. Or, at least he does, until a sudden and very unexpected veela awakening causes him to throw soup all over Harry Potter in the middle of the Ministry cafeteria.

Every Hour Has Led to This by @sassy-cissa​ (105k)

Banned from the wizarding world and sentenced to live as a Muggle for ten years, Draco Malfoy finds his world turned upside down. Navigating the Muggle world becomes easier thanks to help from some unexpected strangers who become family. But when his mother insists Draco fulfil an agreement set when he was a child, he finds himself married and a father. Then a divorced single father. After the war Harry Potter found himself without purpose, until an unexpected offer changed his life. Playboy, Quidditch star, war hero – Harry seems to have it all, until a Quidditch accident ends his career. Lost and without purpose, Harry’s life is lonely until a surprising event brings him to Draco’s door…literally. Running parallel lives for nearly 10 years, when they reconnect both Draco and Harry find the passion for life that had been missing. A story of love and loss and how the best things in life happen in their own time

Pages of You by @wolfpants (101k)

Summer, 1980. Harry is floating between university and becoming a Real Certified Adult. He's not ready. He really isn't.

In a desperate attempt to have the Best Last Summer ever, he takes a casual job at his godfather's bookshop in London, starts an illicit pen pal affair with a wordy posh boy that he's catching feelings for, all while dealing with the son of Sirius's business rival, one Draco Malfoy, insufferable know-it-all extraordinaire.

A story about trying to figure out who you are, where you're going in life, and who you want to take along with you.

Notes on a resurrection by newleaves (126k)

It was never Draco’s intention to raise Sirius Black from the dead.

The Liars Department by @dorthyanndrarry (103k)

This is a story about Harry meeting up with Draco Malfoy four years after the war. And a story about Harry, well, not hating his job per say, but it's not like he has much to compare it to and it seemed fine. His whole life seemed fine. Then Malfoy came along with and his flashy suits and fast car making everything seem dull in comparison, and Harry... Harry couldn't just leave well enough alone.

Turning Leaves by @kbrick (112k)

Draco and Harry have a one-night stand that ends in disaster after Harry tells Draco he's unable to move beyond their poisonous past. So when Draco finds an unusual Time-Turner in the Department of Mysteries, he seizes the opportunity to start fresh with Harry. Only instead of fixing things, he keeps making them worse.

Bolts by @lqtraintracks (114k)

Harry joins the Hogwarts staff as the new History of Magic Professor, while Draco has already been teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts for the past year. When Samantha, a first year, is being bullied one day and throws a made-up Truth curse at her harasser, only to accidentally hit Harry instead, Harry becomes cursed to tell the truth, and not only that, he has to regularly tell it to Draco Malfoy. Samantha is clearly gifted, maybe the most powerful witch or wizard to ever come through Hogwarts, and yet she has no idea how to take the curse off. As they work to remove it—and also teach Samantha how to control a power that's becoming more dangerous by the day—will Harry's truths become too much to handle? And will whatever’s going on with Draco just make everything exponentially worse?

Freedom to be by @quicksilvermaid (169k)

Harry Potter is the Boy Who Lived. 12 years after the war, he's become the Boy Who Lived For Everyone Else. He has the perfect wife. The perfect house. The perfect job. The perfect friends. Only nothing feels perfect. Until one day he stumbles across a club called Release and begins a journey of self-discovery that takes him to a very different place.

By the Grace by @letteredlettered (139k)

Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.

Two to Shore by Lamplighter (204k)

Harry and Draco meet in Madam Malkin’s and instantly take a liking to each other. Just kidding. They don’t, but Harry does get sorted into Slytherin, and they do become extremely good friends.

Way Down We Go by @xiaq (109k)

The war was over. Or at least that’s what the papers said. They’d been saying it, for months, as if people needed reminding. Maybe they did.

In which Harry and Draco both run away from their pasts and conveniently choose to hide in the same tiny American town. It's super.

Nyctophilia by prolonged_autumn (107k)

Everyone's back for 8th year, and Harry and his friends seem determined to spend their last year in school running around at night, hyped up on coffee and alcohol and Honeydukes candy, doing all the childish things they didn't have the chance to do before. Draco watches as he's always watched: from afar, quiet and bitter and hopelessly in love. That is, until Pansy decides she's had quite enough of it.

Make Yourself by @anyaelizabethfic (103k)

Harry just wants to be safe within the freshly painted walls of Grimmauld Place, with his friends around him. But when he hears Draco Malfoy has been spotted at the local soup kitchen, he can’t help but encourage a different type of stray to come under his roof.

Kept Man by @drarry (147k)

A downtrodden Harry Potter in a serious dry spell is looking to be a kept man, and a lonely Draco Malfoy responds to his anonymous ad. A perfect storm of lust, scandal, and maybe even love. A Daddy Kink Magnum Opus.

The Ordeal of Being Known by @lou-isfake (146k)

When Auror Potter is anonymously cursed with silence by being forced to hide his own voice inside his mind, there’s unfortunately only one person in the country with the qualifications to fix it: Certified and Licensed Healer Legilimens, Draco Malfoy, specialist in Mind Curses and Afflictions. It’s obviously a terrible idea, a disaster waiting to happen, but Draco’s never been able to back down from a challenge… especially from Potter.

Harry Potter and the Welcome to the World of Grey by @sobsicles (456k)

When Harry fails to keep his anger at bay and Voldemort possesses his mind, the events that follow lead him down a long road to realizing the world isn’t as black and white as it seems. Chaos, hilarity, and tragedy ensue with a Dark Lord being honest all the time, a rival becoming something else, and a world demanding to be saved. Featuring frightened Death Eaters, deep conversations with a monster, Pureblood traditions being ridiculous, and the fight to do the right thing with no true options. Harry’s life just gets more and more bizarre with each passing moment. ~~~ Or, the one where Harry’s life gets split in half, and he has to figure out how to bring it back together.

The Secret Keeper by @the-fools-errand (225k)

On Halloween 1981, Albus Dumbledore made a decision that would change the course of history, concealing Harry Potter’s survival at the hands of Lord Voldemort underneath a Fidelius Charm. But when Harry comes of age in the Muggle world, Dumbledore realises too late that the fate of the world may depend on a boy who has never held a wand. An unlikely team assembles to teach him everything he needs to know before the charm runs out, but only one of them knows the truth behind the Dark Lord’s return to power. If it were anyone else, Draco would have no problem turning them over to the Death Eaters, but there’s something about this certain bespectacled idiot that has him questioning everything he’s ever known. Will Draco seal the fate of the wizarding world by uncovering the Chosen One or will Harry save Draco from a fate of his own?

Dwelling on Dreams by @the-sinking-ship (135k)

Draco thought he could avoid Potter for the duration of his brief return to England. He’d stick to his schedule and be back home in Paris, where he belonged, in a few short months. No trouble at all. He had plenty to occupy him, what with the opening of the London branch of his successful apothecary, his innovative research, drinks with Pansy, a backlog of unread potions periodicals. Except Head Auror Potter is everywhere — in Draco's chair, at his door, in his dreams. All six feet of motorbike-riding, combat-boot-wearing, sex-hair-sporting Saviour of the World packed into one unfairly fetching uniform. Potter won’t leave Draco the bloody hell alone, won’t let him breathe, let him forget, let him sleep. Because no matter how fast Draco Malfoy runs, Harry Potter is always hot on his heels.

A Sword Laid Aside by @korlaena (128k)

When Draco’s cover is blown during a deep undercover operation and the Ministry is compromised, Ron takes Draco to the only safe place he can think of—Potter. Hiding out with a taciturn Harry Potter, who has been missing from the Wizarding World for almost two decades after a shocking fall from grace, is nothing like Draco thought it would be. Draco has to navigate dealing with this Potter while being hunted by Dark wizards and wanted by extremists in the Ministry. When things take a turn for the worse, Draco has to decide whether he's going to keep running or find a way to protect the world and the people he cares about most.

Changing Tides by @carpemermaidtales (109k)

Draco has spent half of his life spouting the things his father has taught him without much thought about how he feels about what he says. When he unexpectedly comes face to face with the Dark Lord, he grapples with the harsh realities of the world and struggles with his changing views on life. Instead of doing what’s expected of him fifth year, he joins Dumbledore’s Army and learns how to defend himself, how to make his own choices, and how he can be something greater than his father’s example as he grows into his own man rather than his father’s shadow. The choices he makes change both his and Harry’s fates, intertwining their paths until they converge.

Taking Chances by @gracerene (135k)

After the war, Draco disappeared and started over in America, vowing never to return to Great Britain and the fraught past he left behind. Unfortunately, when his mates convince him to sign up for an exchange programme for the last year of their Auror Training, Draco learns that he doesn’t have much of a choice in the matter.

Graceless Heart by @orange-peony​ (132k)

Harry is lost and broken after the war. He has gone to countless funerals, broken up with Ginny, moved back into Grimmauld Place—which feels darker and dirtier than ever before despite how much he tries to fix it. He feels lonely and desperate, but he won’t ask for help, and he still can’t cry.

When he agreed to help the Aurors at Malfoy Manor over the summer, he thought that he would be breaking dark curses. Harry never thought that he would actually spend his days sorting out dusty books with Draco Malfoy, or teaching him how to cook.

Little by little, as they begin to navigate their life post-war, Harry and Draco become intimate…in more ways than Harry could have ever expected.

Brave Though The Stars They Make Me by @dwell-the-brave (108k)

After the events at the end of his Sixth Year, Draco Malfoy has been kept all but prisoner in his childhood home, Malfoy Manor. Alone, terrified, and desperate for some way out, he begins to have strange dreams - dreams of Harry Potter. Are they a trick of his mind? Or are they a way to change his fate, and a chance at redemption?

[leather-n-laces]

Way Down We Go: CH14 teaser

(No context)

[lesbians4armand]

the father, the son, and the holy spirit for brank fans are heart of a dog, way down we go, and a salt wife.

(heart of a dog is by wheatfromchaff on ao3)

(way down we go is by ponfarr on ao3)

(a salt wife is by saltandbyrne on ao3)

[felinefractious]

Hello! I am making a genetic cat picrew and i wonder if there's any guides on different white patches or tortoiseshell patterns. I am planning to do different types of tortoiseshell and white patches so I'm wondering-

Oh this is very fun…

Here’s a selection of diagrams demonstrating typical white distribution patterns and the classifications or nicknames which may be used to describe them.

Note that terms like harlequin, van and so forth are moreso used by registeries to describe phenotype. When it comes to genotype your basic white spotting is going to be…

No white (ww, wwg)

White gloving (wgwg)

Below 50% white (Wsw, Wswg)

Above 50% white (WsWs)

Dominant White (Wdw, Wdwg, WdWs, WdWd)

The possibilities are pretty much endless so have fun with it, especially when you get down to the little random markings. Here are the white pattern tags for the blog that you can peruse for inspiration:

bicolor white

harlequin white

van white

other white

mitted white

I don’t have as many visual resources for tortoiseshell but here’s a diagram @amber-tortoiseshell made illustrating the effect white spotting has on the standard tortoiseshell distribution.

The less white there is the more mottled the appearance, the colors sporadic and mixed in a manner than can be described as brindled. As white is added these patches increase in size and definition until they become distinct blotches.

The split face is a common tortoiseshell marking. The face, paws and tail also tend to sport larger and more distinctive patches of color even if the rest of the body is pretty well brindled.

Here are the tortoiseshell tags for the blog that you can peruse for inspiration:

black tortoiseshell

blue tortoiseshell

chocolate tortoiseshell

lilac tortoiseshell

cinnamon tortoiseshell

fawn tortoiseshell

I’d love to see it when you’re finished! Let me know if you have any more questions!

[cailynwrites]

Now also available on AO3!

Cover art and design for Way Down We Go by @xiaq audiobook by @etl-echo-audiobooks

Posting now on Spotify

[kimakento]

my wdwg highlight medley thoughts!!

where do we go

it sounds too much like love seeker tbh, lapone is really leaning towards funk for jo1’s music style now. it’s not really a bad thing because it is a good song. the part towards the end where i think junki n takumi are singing over tgth is definitely my fav. its kinda chaotic which make it so nice to listen to. though i was thinking smth different because of the supposed royal concept.

icy

i really like icy, the kind of vocal fry (?) in the beginning is something i’m unsure fits the song but i’ll have to hear the whole song to really confirm it. the cuts in the vocals are so satisfying and i enjoyed the “i-icy” parts at the end!!! it gives me ‘walk it like i talk it + algorithm but softer’ n i love those songs soo

maybe next time

ohh i LOVE this song omgggg i’m a big fan i love the instrumental and the chorus + they go together really well!! heard syoya vocals so i 100% approve!!! overall there isn’t much to say about it because i’m quite taken already

cross the line

the amount of times takumi repeats ‘cross the line’ is just so unnecessary LMAO the “badababada” part i’m iffy on but it doesn’t sound too bad. like icy i think i’m going to have to listen to the whole song to determine if it fits

believe in you

i think everyone knows my stance on this i adore jo1 ballads and i’ve been crazy about believe in you ever since it came out. my 4 minute ballad dream came true and i love it the vocals, the ending chorus, the message, just everything was actually so fitting 833£:&:&8/892 ugh i love this song to death. it definitely has climbed the ranks on my favourite jowan songs. i don’t play about ballads

[ficnation]

Chapter 4: The Night Disturbance

Series: Way Down We Go // Season 1 Word count: 3100 Pairing: Rick Grimes x Female! Reader; Shane Walsh x Reader; Daryl Dixon x Sister! Reader Warnings: usual twd themes (e.g. descriptive gore, death, use of weapons, violence, cursing) A/n: We should meet twd family in the next chapter or two B) I hope ya’ll enjoy it <3 If you’re not on the taglist but you’d like to be added let me know!

𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐖𝐄 𝐆𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 || 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑

You sauntered toward the army green tent, shuffling your feet and trying to prolong the walk there. A displeased frown was already growing on your face. You weren’t in the mood to hear your younger brother’s stinging words the whole night. You didn’t even want to sleep in that cursed tent with him, but it wasn’t like you had a say in it. Merle decided he was going to take watch for the night, and he ushered you away before you could even open your mouth to protest. You didn’t point out his questionable eagerness. You were just simply done with his shit. 

“Ya gettin’ in or what?” Daryl’s gruff voice sounded from inside the tent right when you stepped over to open the flap. 

You rolled your eyes and slipped in through the opening, zipping it up all the way behind you. Because of the humidity coming from the lake, mosquitos seemed to appear out of thin air and lurk around every corner. You could no longer count the number of itchy bumps on your skin. Just thinking about it made you furiously scratch your arm. 

“Stupid fuckin’ mosquitos,” you cursed under your nose, crawling into the sleeping space of the tent and flopping down on the hard floor. The blanket you laid on didn’t do much to isolate your back from the unforgiving coldness of the ground beneath, and you knew another uncomfortable and freezing night had just started for you. 

“Ya want som’ thyme for it?” 

Your eyes snapped wide open at the words, and you propped yourself up on your forearms to look at Daryl. You had to make sure you didn’t just imagine him speaking to you in a fairly calm voice. The archer avoided meeting your eyes, lying beside you and looking up at the disgusting green color of the tent’s roof. You shook your head in disbelief at his offer before retracting your gaze. 

“It’s hideous, right?” You let yourself fall back down, staring at the canvas above with a raised brow. You waited patiently for Daryl to find the courage to speak. 

A small flashlight was lying by Daryl’s feet that was pointed at the roof to illuminate the whole tent with delicate yellow light. It was the only thing that saved you from jabbing him with your elbow or knee while moving around the tent. The tent was so small it barely fit two people, and keeping at least some kind of distance between each other was challenging and awkward. The idea of lying squashed like sardines with your younger brother, who seemed to hate your guts, wasn’t exactly inviting. 

“Didn’ know it was like tha’,” he started, his fingers nervously tapping at the covered ground. He fell silent after those words escaped his lips, and for a moment, you thought that was all he had to say before he turned toward you, boring his blue eyes into the side of your face. “If ya jus’ said somethin’ earlier…” he trailed off. 

“I couldn’t,” you defended yourself, fingers playing with the stretched-out hem of your shirt. Nervously, you rubbed the black fabric between your thumb and pointer finger. 

“Don’ bullshit me.” Daryl scoffed at you, rolling his eyes. You looked at him, offended and kind of hurt that he didn’t believe you. You had no reason to lie to him. “Ya were jus’ scared shitless to admit ya fucked up. Yer whole gettin’ outta ‘ere and bein’ better than us bullshit didn’ work out.” 

You sat up in shock, staring at the space in front of you. The scowl on your face could be seen probably from miles away, but you tried to snuff out the rage that started to boil in your blood. “Daryl fucking Dixon, what the hell did you make yourself believe?” 

“Tha’s the fuckin’ truth! Ya always been the self-righteous one. Thinkin’ ya can do better, leave us behin’. Guess it was time for ya to fuckin’ wake up,” he spat out the words, his jaw clenched tightly. 

You snorted at that, pulling your legs up to your chest and crossing your arms over them. The scowl fell off your face as quickly as it made its way there. You didn’t seem phased by what he said anymore. You rested the side of your face on your arms as you looked him right in the eye. 

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve never as much as thought that you are less than me and I never will. Merle? Sure, he’s a dealer junkie that sleeps in a cell every few days. He doesn’t even want to be better,” you explained, shaking your head sadly. 

The mere thought of your older brother’s shenanigans made your eyes roll involuntarily. Since you could remember, he was always dragging you and Daryl into trouble, getting you into parties with local junkies and prostitutes, stuffing drugs down your pockets so you could sell his stuff to your friends. He justified himself that no one would dare to harm a hair on your head if he was around, but he was never truly there for you when shit hit the fan. Juvie, military, prison—he was anywhere but home. Yet he believed he was your hero, “saving you” from Will—the evil dragon—but it was all play pretend. You and Daryl saved each other without his—so-called—help. 

“I wanted you to go with me because I knew you wanted more from life. You aren’t dumb, Daryl. You could’ve had any job you fucking wanted.” You stared into his blue eyes, a melancholic smile on your lips. “You’re so much smarter than me and Merle combined,” you continued, and at your words, Daryl rolled his eyes and snorted ungracefully. 

“Ain’t much of a compliment,” he mumbled, making you chuckle.

You swatted at his arm playfully. “You know what I mean, asshole.” 

“Wha? Not my fault ya and Merle have half a brain combined.” Daryl raised his brow at you, challenging you to argue with him any further. He propped himself up on his forearms just like you did minutes ago. You exchanged cheeky smiles in silence for a moment, but then the air shifted back into seriousness. 

“Will we ever be good, Daryl?” you whispered more to yourself than to him. 

You wished you could goof around carelessly like you did before you left the trailer park. You wished everything would just go back to how it was back then—more than ten years ago. It wasn’t possible, though, and you knew it. You weren’t the same person anymore, and neither was he.

Daryl’s eyes bored into your skull while he contemplated quietly. “Someday… Someday we will.”

Even if it wasn’t necessarily the answer you wanted it to be, it was more than you had expected. You accepted your brother’s words with a nod of your head, lying back on the floor and turning away from him. You curled your legs up to your chest and pulled the sleeves of your shirt over your palms, hugging yourself to keep warm. 

“Good night, Daryl,” you mumbled out before your eyes closed. 

“Night, kid,” he replied, throwing his own blanket over you before he turned off the flashlight and rolled to his side, back to back with you.

The relentless rustling and groaning from outside woke you up in the middle of the night, disturbing your already shallow slumber. You sat up startled, rubbing the sleep off your bleary eyes. Your mind still hasn’t caught up to your current situation, and you didn’t really know what the groans foreshadowed. 

“What’s going on?” Daryl asked, sensing your sudden change in position.

He reached out to turn the flashlight on, but you quickly caught his arm and stilled it. Or maybe it was his ankle; you couldn’t really tell in the dark, but at least the action stopped Daryl from continuing. You strained your ears to make sure the noises that awoke you were really there, but you didn’t hear anything anymore. You breathed out a sigh of relief before falling back like a log onto the blanket beneath.

“It’s nothing. Just my imagination,” you mumbled out. 

The moment you closed your eyes, determined to go back to sleep, another growl sounded from outside the tent, this time louder than before. You shot up again, accidentally jabbing Daryl in the side with your elbow. The man let out a pained grunt before he sat up as well, straining his ears. 

“Daryl, we need to get out of here!” you whispered in a panicked tone, throwing the blanket off your body. It didn’t do shit to help you stay warm at night anyway. “It was one of the undead.”

“No shit,” he growled out, barely audible, already scrambling around in the dark in search of his crossbow and your rifle. 

It was crazy how quick the noise made all the tiredness disappear from your body. The adrenaline surged in your blood, and the screaming in your head to run or fight was louder than any other thought. You’ve never felt safe in this world, but before the outbreak, you could at least hope for a better tomorrow; now, you didn’t think it was possible. 

Despite the darkness, you somehow managed to slip your sock-clad feet into your boots and stuff the flashlight into the pocket of your pants. The both of you crawled over to the entrance as quickly and stealthily as it was possible. You took the rifle from Daryl’s hand and swung it over your shoulder. You let him fumble around with the tent’s zipper, staying behind and trying not to let the panic swallow your whole being while you waited.

“C’mon,” your brother ushered you out of the tent quietly, letting you step outside before him. “Sounds like more than jus’ one of ’em to me.”

You stumbled blindly outside. The moonlight filtered through the canopy of leaves above you like a dulled and dispersed spotlight. Your eyes were already adjusted to the darkness, so the night seemed surprisingly bright. You didn’t have time to admire your surroundings for long. Since the canvas no longer muffled the noises, you could hear the familiar growling clearly, and Daryl was right—there was definitely more than one stumbler in your little camp.

A few crickets chirped suddenly somewhere close to you, making you gasp, startled. You winced and pressed your palm tightly to your mouth to repress any other sound from escaping it. Daryl’s quickened breathing told you he was just as stressed by the thought that they could hear the tiniest sound you made as if the quiet rustling of the bedding could make their eyes snap toward you at any moment. This time you were lucky—the stragglers didn’t seem to have heard you. 

You wanted to ask Daryl about Merle and his whereabouts, about what you were supposed to do and where you could possibly run to, but you didn’t dare to part your lips again. You could feel your heart hammer furiously in your chest, making your whole body tremble in a gracious dance to its rhythm. Tired of waiting for something to happen, you moved forward in a crouch, burying your fingers in the leaf litter to keep some semblance of balance. For your own good and sanity, you hoped you were as stealthy as you imagined yourself to be after months of sneaking around different places—that you were not supposed to be in—with the Red Devils. 

You scrambled for the nearby bushes outside the small clearing occupied by your tent and vehicles. In the distance, you could see the silhouettes of the undead shuffling around the pickup and Merle’s bike.

Speaking of which—where the fuck was that asshole? You were sure he wasn’t dead—he couldn’t be—but the silence was weirdly disturbing. Your older brother was the loudest and most obnoxious man you’ve ever met. It was suspicious of him to be quiet even in a situation like this. He was born unable to keep his mouth shut. 

Once you and Daryl were safely hidden behind the bushes, you grabbed the hem of his vest, tugging at it to get his attention. “Where the fuck is Merle? He was supposed to be on watch,” you asked, gritting your teeth in annoyance. 

“How the fuck should I know?” 

Before you could retort back, you saw something moving in the distance behind Daryl. It took you a second to realize what was coming, and if it wasn’t for the moon shining so bright in the sky—you didn’t even want to imagine what could’ve happened. You pushed your brother with all the force you had left in yourself, making him fall flat onto the ground, twigs and dirt tangling in his light brown hair. You followed in his steps immediately, throwing yourself face-first onto the litter. A sharp shining object swished past your lying forms milliseconds after, cutting through the air where Daryl’s head just had been. The knife rammed into the ground at your feet. You didn’t move for several moments, both breathing deeply with eyes wide open in shock and relief. 

“What the fuck?!” Daryl snarled as he scrambled to his feet, looking in the direction the weapon came from. 

“Bet my right hand we just found Merle,” you scoffed, standing up on shaky legs.

You dusted yourself off, but it didn’t help much. Your pants were still mucky, with dirt, leaves, and twigs sticking to the fabric like glue. You quickly gave up trying to pry them off, remembering there were more important things you had to deal with first. Everything else could wait, but before you’ve dealt with Merle and the creepers, you had to keep your guard up and eyes focused on your surroundings. 

“Over ‘ere!” you heard your older brother’s voice call through the forest, not a care in the world about the goddamn undead.

Daryl took a look at the camp you’d left behind. The stragglers shuffled around the clearing, looking for their next meal. They either didn’t hear Merle’s booming voice or were too distracted by the smell of squirrels’ remains that were thrown out carelessly by the edge of your camp. 

You walked over to your older brother, and before anything could be said or done by any of the men, you punched Merle straight in the face, making him step back in pain and shock. His hand shot up to hover over his bleeding nose. Your clenched fist hurt, but the pain was good—it was worth it. 

“You pull shit like that one more time, and I swear I’ll stick that knife so far up your ass.” You scowled at him but raised your hands in the air as a gesture of peace when Daryl stepped between the two of you and sent you a scolding stare. 

“Damn, Baby. Thought ya were walkers lookin’ for some goodies.” Merle chuckled at his own words, and it took all strength in you not to push Daryl out of your way and hit him again. 

“I don’t fucking care what you thought we were,” you growled out through clenched teeth. “Daryl could’ve gotten seriously hu—”

“Can ya both shut yer mouths? Ya can bicker later after we get outta ‘ere,” Daryl cut you off, his eyes trailing around the forest to ensure there were no other infected around. His fingers tapped the crossbow nervously. 

You ignored him, slipping your rifle off your back to clutch it safely in your hands before you continued in a hushed voice, “Why didn’t you wake us up?” 

“Wasn’t gonna disturb yer beauty sleep.” You wanted to wipe that smug smirk off his stupid face. “Figured it’s jus’ two creeps, should be easy enough tah get rid of.”

Daryl scoffed dismissively at Merle’s stupidity, not even sparing your older brother a glance. He started walking in the opposite direction of your camp, his crossbow ready to shoot in his hands. You followed after him, and so did Merle, although he protested about leaving your things—mainly his bike—behind. 

“Don’t know how he threw that knife, he’s as high as a kite,” you stated, catching up to your younger brother. You matched his pace, glancing over your shoulder from time to time, making sure Merle didn’t wander off in his delirious state. 

“Don’t matter. He ain’t even thinkin’ clearly. There were four of ’em at least.” Daryl shook his head, already exhausted by the situation at hand. 

“What are we gonna do about him?”

At the exact same moment the question left your lips, Merle tripped behind the two of you and fell on his ass with a grunt that preceded a clamorous: “Fuckin’ hell!” The faint groans in the distance made Daryl, and you freeze in your spots, heavy feet glued to the ground. They didn’t sound that far away. The realization made you come unstuck, and you jogged over to your older brother. 

“Damn it, get up!” 

You grabbed him by the arm and hauled him to his feet while he giggled like a fucking schoolgirl. Who put themselves in a state like that in the middle of an apocalypse? It wasn’t the time and place for that. You didn’t get it at all; if he wanted to live, he had to be able to fight, not trip over his own feet every five seconds. Yet Merle proved himself to be untrustworthy and unable to look after his own ass once again. No wonder he failed at making sure you could get at least a few hours of sleep safely. 

“I swear Merle, whether you are my blood or not,” you started, grunting when he threw his arm over your shoulder, “I will leave you here to get eaten by those monsters.” You tried to keep moving forward, but the weight he leaned on you didn’t make it easy.

“I ain’t seein’ any creeps’ ere. Say we’re pretty safe, dontcha think?” It took everything in you to not kick him away and say you were done. 

Daryl watched your backs in silence. He had no idea what to do either—despite spending the last ten years with him one-on-one. You still couldn’t believe he survived it without putting a gun to Merle’s head—or maybe he did, but decided not to pull the goddamn trigger. 

You heard the groans getting closer, another one joining and a third following. The shuffling and rustling of leaves told you there were more of them than at the camp. You watched the horror build up in Daryl’s eyes as he tried to tell how many of them could possibly be straggling toward you. 

Then all hell broke loose.

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