#WHAT ABOUT DARYL X JESUS WOULD ANYONE READ THAT

[grim333z]

Should I write more RARL.

[biggerbetterbat]

WITH YOU II | [15] TIME OF DECISION

Daryl Dixon x oc!Charlie

Summary: Charlie once again doubts Rick’s decisions. She’s not convinced to the rightfulness of the mission. She has to pick who she wants to protect. Her choice brings consequences.

Warnings: guns, language, walkers, mention of killing, and typical twd things if I missed sth

Words: 4.258

A/N: Hello :) I would like to apologize for not uploading a chapter, but I finished it just moments ago. I was busy with exams for the past month. I promise that next chapter will be published sooner as I want to finish it today/tomorrow. Thank you for reading and your comments, I absolutely love reading them!

Rick had called a meeting, and everyone in Alexandria had gathered, their faces a mix of curiosity and concern. The church, once a place of peace and reflection, now felt like the heart of their troubled community. Charlie glanced at Andy, who stood silently beside her. The air was thick with the scent of old wood and the faint lingering traces of candle wax. The evening light filtered through the stained glass windows, casting colorful patterns on the floor. Rick stood at the front, his presence commanding attention.

"We have food. But they're not giving it away," said Rick. "Those Saviors, almost killed Sasha, Daryl, and Abraham. Now, sooner or later they would've found us, just like those Wolves did." he said, looking around at people's faces. "Just like Jesus did. They would have killed someone or some of us. And own us. Then, low on food, we would loose. This is the only way. But this needs to be a group decision." he added after his speech. "If anyone objects, raise your hand."

"Isn't it already made?" Cass asked, fixing glasses on his nose.

"You sure we can beat them?"

"I have the same question."

"After everything we've been through...yes. I'm sure," Rick nodded.

What we Rick was talking about? - was Charlie's first thought. Because Alexandria's residents were still green when it came to fighting, guns, weapons, and walkers. They had survived, yes, but they had done so mostly behind the safety of their walls, relying on the seasoned fighters like Rick and his group. The Survivors group was experienced. They had been hardened by countless battles, losses, and near-death experiences.

"Then that's what we tell them." Morgan interrupted Charlie's thoughts.

"They don't compromise." Rick shook his head.

"It's not a compromise," Morgan disagreed. "It's a choice. It's a way out for them and for us."

"We try and talk to the Saviors, we give up our advantage, our safety." answered Rick with annoyance in his voice. "We have to come for them, before they come for us. They always come back."

"They comeback when they're dead, too."

"We'll stop them. We have before."

"I'm not talking about the walkers." Morgan's words hanged in the air.

She had seen her fair share of death, had lost people she cared about, and each loss left a scar. These scars weren't just physical but etched deeply into her psyche. The faces of the dead often visited her in quiet moments, their memories a constant reminder of what she had lost. Charlie knew better than anyone what Morgan's words meant.

There was a palpable tension between the two men, a silent battle of wills. Morgan's stance was calm, yet resolute, his eyes reflecting a deep-seated belief in his pacifist philosophy. Rick, on the other hand, was a warrior, a leader who believed in fighting to protect what they had built.

"Morgan wants to talk to them first. I think that would be a mistake, but it's not up to me. I'll talk to the people still at home." Rick said. "I'll discuss it with people on guard now, too, but who else wants to approach the Saviors, talk to them first?"

"What happened here, we won't let happen again." said determined Aaron. "I won't."

"Well, looks like it's settled." Charlie said, catching Rick's eyes. Just by this short interaction, he knew that Charlie wasn't on his side. Not by her own will, at last. "We kill them all."

As the last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon, a calm settled over the walls of Alexandria. The air grew cooler, carrying with it a sense of relief after another day of tension. The day had been long. But now, in this quiet moment, Charlie and Daryl found solace in each other's presence. He leaned back against the bed, while Charlie nestled herself closer, feeling the warmth of his presence. They didn't need to speak at first; the silence between them was comfortable, a shared understanding that words weren't always necessary.

"I feel as if today lasted ten years."

Daryl chuckled.

"I'm glad you're here, Daryl. With me."

He turned to look at her, his blue eyes meeting her gaze. "Always gonna be here, Charlie. Ain't going nowhere."

A small smile tugged at her lips. "Good. Because I don't think I could do this alone...Not anymore."

They lapsed into silence again, the weight of their words hanging in the air. Charlie leaned her head against Daryl's shoulder, closing her eyes briefly. "Do you ever think about what it would be like if it all was suddenly gone?" she murmured.

"No."

"Why?" Charlie asked.

"We have bigger troubles now," he answered.

"Hmm."

Charlie's mind raced with possibilities, each one darker than the last. She felt a tightening in her chest, the weight of fear pressing down on her. She nestled closer, resting her head against his chest. His heartbeat was steady, a calming rhythm that began to ease her anxiety.

"You've been quiet," he remarked. "What's on your mind?"

"What if everything gets worse?"

"It always might get worse."

"But now it feels as if we're asking for it."

"Don't worry," he said, closing his eyes. "I'll watch your back."

"You're good at it."

Daryl chuckled, sensing the double meaning in her words.

He thought about the rare moments of laughter they shared, the bond that had grown between them. In a world filled with so much darkness, Charlie was a beacon of light, and he was determined to protect her at all costs. He tightened his hold on her, his mind settling into a quiet contentment.

With fingers tangled in her hair, and a thought of her, he fell asleep.

Birds chirped in the distance, and the fresh scent of pine filled the air. Charlie stirred, blinking awake. She sat up, stretching the sleep from her limbs and glancing over at Daryl, who was still asleep beside her. Carefully, she stood and made her way down to the kitchen. The wooden stairs creaked softly under her feet as she descended, the smell of cooking drawing her toward the kitchen. As she stepped into the warm, sunlit kitchen, she found Carol busy at the stove, her hands deftly moving as she prepared breakfast.

"Hey," Charlie smiled. The woman was deep in her own thoughts, so her sudden voice made her jump.

"Hello, Sweet Thing," she forced smile on her lips. "Hungry?"

"No. I don't think I'll swallow anything," Charlie said and walked closer. "Carol."

"Hmm?"

"Could you help with my hair?"

They moved to the living room, where the sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a golden glow on the worn furniture. Carol settled on the couch and patted the space in front of her. Charlie sat down on the floor, her back to Carol, and handed her a hairbrush. As the older woman began to brush Charlie's hair, the repetitive motion was soothing her nerves. Charlie closed her eyes, letting herself relax under the gentle touch.

"You used to do that a lot in the past," Charlie smiled, feeling Carol's fingers working fast.

"Sophia never had hair like that," she said. "Always keeping it short."

"I remember," Charlie nodded lightly, remembering the little girl. In her mind, Sophia was still a little girl, but she would be a teenager now, probably around fourteen or fifteen - like Carl. She pictured her with the same kind, intelligent eyes. Her hair, likely a dark blonde, would fall in waves, maybe even with a few braids like the one Carol had just done for her. "I miss the quarry."

"Really?" Carol raised her eyebrows.

"Things seemed simpler then. I wish I could just go back and tell myself what I know now."

"What do you mean?"

"Rick and Michonne," Charlie said out of nowhere. "Do you know when it started?"

"Maybe when we were apart?"

"Yeah...Maybe," she sighed. "What I mean is that things were simpler at the beginning. All we had to worry about were the Walkers. But we were together," she sighed. "Now we have to worry about those people, Hilltop, Saviors...And I don't even remember when I saw all of you. Together."

"We're together," Carol argued.

"We live next to each other," Charlie corrected. "But we're not together anymore."

Carol stood still, the words sinking in. Looking back in time, she saw the small group of people working together, the shared meals, and the nights spent around the fire.

"Oh, Sweet Thing."

She thought back to the early days, when their group had been smaller, more intimate. They had leaned on each other for everything, their bond forged in the fires of constant danger and loss. But as time had passed, as they had settled into a routine, something had shifted.

"Can I ask you a question?" Charlie asked after a rather long moment of silence.

"Sure."

"Why are you calling me Sweet Thing?"

"Well...Because from the very beginning you were so sweet to me," Carol explained. "You were taking care of Sophia. And then of me..."

Charlie froze in her spot. Her heart sank in her chest, knowing so well that being sweet was never her intention. At the beginning, since four men were pointing their guns at her, everything was a strategy. She was helping them, smiling at everyone, but in her head she was judging every single person, Carol included. "I've never been sweet," she answered. "I was trying to survive. And by being an awful person to you...All of you would have made me leave."

"Charlie..."

"No, really," she shook her head. "I've always been a bad person. I...Sometimes I think that me losing my family, or that everyone I care about dies, or my mental condition is just karma."

Carol's heart ached at the raw pain in Charlie's voice. She looked at her friend, seeing not the flaws Charlie saw in herself, but the strength and resilience that had kept her going through unimaginable hardship. She stepped closer, her expression softening.

"I think I never told you this...I love you, Sweet Thing." Carol leaned in and wrapped her hands around the younger woman. "You're not a bad person, Charlie. You're one of the strongest, most caring people I know. We all have our demons, but that doesn't make us bad."

Charlie felt the weight of Carol's words settle into her heart, a warmth spreading through her chest. "I don't feel strong," she admitted, her voice trembling. "Most days, I feel like I'm barely holding on."

"It's okay to feel that way," Carol's voice broke. "Just remember you're not alone."

In Carol's embrace, Charlie could almost imagine that she was a child again, seeking comfort and reassurance from her mother. The warmth and security she felt were unlike anything she had experienced in a long time. Tears began to well up in her eyes, but they were tears of release, of letting go of the burden she had carried for so long.

The air was crisp, filled with the promise of a new day, yet the tension among the group was palpable. Today was the day they would confront the Saviors. The convoy of vehicles rumbled down the dirt road, dust kicking up in their wake. The forest next to the road was quiet, save for the rustling of leaves and the distant call of a bird. She walked over to where Andy stood, her heart heavy with the weight of what was to come.

"You don't have to do this," Charlie said.

She understood the importance of showing unity and giving everyone a chance. Andy had shown promise during training, but he lacked the experience and composure that seasoned members of the group possessed. This mission required precision, focus, and a deep understanding of the stakes. Charlie worried that Andy's inexperience could jeopardize everything.

And what's more important that he would end up dead.

"I know," Andy nodded. "But I want to prove my worth."

"Andy, you better find a different way of proving whatever you need to prove and leave this thing to experienced people."

"I have to do this," he argued. "Even Carl is better than me. A teenager with one eye," Andy said nervously, but calmed himself as he met Charlie's warning glance. "Look, I have to be here. Even the priest is here."

"Which isn't a good omen, too." Charlie mumbled under her breath, stabbing Gabe in the face...just in her mind, of course.

Gabe caught her whispered words. He turned to her, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I've been called worse omens, Charlie," he said, his voice light but carrying an undercurrent of steel. "But last I checked, divine intervention wasn't something to scoff at in times like these."

"There's no turning back now." she rolled her eyes at his witty comment.

"I could walk. Maybe run a little, maybe a lot. I'm not going anywhere. Your people taught me for a reason."

"Yeah, for a reason unknown to me," Charlie scoffed and passed him, hearing Andy's fast steps behind.

"I don't get it," he said. "Why do you hate him so much."

Charlie's mind whirred at the question. She hadn't really thought deeply about her animosity toward Gabe. It had always been there, a simmering undercurrent of irritation and mistrust. She searched her feelings, trying to pinpoint the root of her resentment. Was it his unwavering faith that seemed naïve in such a brutal world? Or perhaps it was his calm demeanor, which she found frustrating in the face of constant danger?

Maybe it's because he represents something she felt she had lost. Hope. Faith. Things buried under layers of survival instincts. But none of that was something she was ready to unpack, especially not now. "I just do," she shrugged. "Now, stop thinking about him, and focus."

"I am focused."

"I'm serious, Andy," she said, realizing how his small smile was annoying her, as if it was some kind of game for him. In the face of danger, Charlie realized how close she got to the young man and how sue cared about him.

"I know," he nodded his head. "We got this."

Charlie caught sight of Maggie behind him, her strong yet weary figure standing out among the others. The sight of her brought a rush of conflicting emotions. She had insisted on coming, despite the dangers. She was resolute, driven by the same need for justice and retribution that fueled them all. But seeing her there, so close to the impending conflict, made Charlie's protective instincts flare.

She found herself beside Glenn in no time, his face etched with worry but his resolve unbroken. She couldn't hold back her concern any longer.

"You asked me to protect her, Glenn," Charlie said, her voice barely above a whisper. "And now you risk her life?"

Glenn turned to her, his eyes reflecting the depth of his inner turmoil. "It's not up to me, Charlie," he replied, a note of sadness in his voice. "You know her. Once Maggie sets her mind to something, there's no stopping her."

Charlie clenched her jaw, struggling to accept the truth in Glenn's words. Maggie was strong, resilient, and fiercely independent. She had every right to fight alongside them, but that didn't make it any easier to watch her step into danger. "I get it, Glenn. But sometimes you need to step up and be a man."

His eyes hardened, and he took a step closer to her, lowering his voice so the others wouldn't hear. "Do you think I don't care? Do you think I don't worry about her every second? This isn't about being a man or not. This is about respecting her."

"So, what?" Charlie glared at him. "You just let her walk into danger because you're too afraid to stand up to her?"

"She's not a child; she's a survivor, just like the rest of us," he answered. "I know you're scared," Glenn's voice softened. "Trust me, we all are."

"But what if anything happens to her..."

"Nothing will," Glenn interrupted, a fierce determination in his eyes. "Because we're going to do everything in our power to protect each other. All of us."

Charlie nodded, feeling the last of her frustration melt away, but not entirely. She knew Glenn was right. They needed to be united, now more than ever.

Their attention was suddenly captured by Rick, who had stepped forward, his face set with grim determination. He raised a hand, signaling for everyone to gather around. The murmur of voices ceased as the group fell silent, eyes fixed on their leader.

"We're gonna take a look around, try to get a feel for how many people are in there." said Rick. "We like how it looks, we go in. A couple hours before dawn. The guards outside'll be tired. Everyone inside'll be sleeping," he explained a one way. "We don't like what we see, we head back, make a new plan," he said. "They don't know who we are. We'll keep Jesus in the shadows. This is how we eat."

As the group began to disperse to their positions, Charlie approached Rick, her mind racing with concerns. She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts, looking at the man who was immersed in his thoughts.

"I don't want Maggie here," Charlie said sternly, even though Rick wasn't looking at her.

"She's guarding the perimeter," he answered, still not giving her a glance.

"Are you kidding me?" she scoffed. "She's pregnant."

"It's her choice."

She couldn't believe Rick was so dismissive of her concerns. How could he put Maggie in such a dangerous position? It felt reckless and irresponsible.

First Glenn and then Rick.

Men - Charlie rolled her eyes.

"She's with a child, it's no longer her choice."

Rick finally turned to face Charlie, his eyes meeting hers directly. There was a flicker of something in his gaze - maybe understatement or maybe she annoyed him."I want to stay with her," Charlie insisted, her voice steady even as Rick scrutinized her. "And Andy will be with us."

Rick's face tightened with resolve. "Well, this whole thing's a race to the armory," he said. "We need as many people inside as we can get."

"You have just enough people," Charlie shrugged, pointing her head in the direction of the group. "I made a promise to keep an eye on her."

"Did Carol and Andy make that promise too? I had a very similar talk with her earlier." Rick tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Charlie's heart sank. If Carol was voicing concerns, it meant she wasn't alone in her worries. "Very well. Even Carol is concerned, so that should tell you a lot."

A heavy silence settled between them, the weight of their unspoken words hanging in the air. Rick's expression softened slightly, a hint of regret flickering in his eyes. "You don't talk to me, Charlie," he said quietly. "It's been weeks since we've really talked. You said you were sorry for doubting me, and here we are," he sighed, dropping his arms to his sides. "What happened to you? You used to be my biggest ally."

Her thoughts raced. She remembered the early days of their journey, how she had always stood by Rick, trusted his decisions, even when they were difficult. But things had changed. The constant danger, the endless battles, it had all taken a toll.

"This thing? It's not the same as before," she said after a while, her voice tinged with sadness and frustration. "I don't see... I can't find a point in this," she shrugged, struggling to put her feelings into words. "And I don't want to ever make a choice who to save, a baby or its mother."

Her last words hit Rick hard. She could see the pain in his eyes, the conflict. It was the truth, and he knew it. The weight of their decisions, the moral dilemmas they faced every day—it was tearing them apart. Rick took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging slightly.

"I'm staying with Maggie," Charlie said firmly.

Rick looked at her for a long moment, the silence between them thick with unspoken emotions. Finally, he nodded. "Okay," he agreed, his voice barely above a whisper. "But Andy goes with us."

The night had settled around them, casting the forest in deep shadows. Charlie, Carol, and Maggie crouched near the Savior's base, their breaths quiet and steady. The cool night air wrapped around them, the sounds of the forest a backdrop to their tense vigil.

Charlie's thoughts drifted to Andy. She had been annoyed by his presence, questioning his readiness and his place in their mission. She agreed on him going here, because she thought he'll be near her. The only reassurance was the thought that Daryl promised to keep an eye on him. He had a way of taking care of people, of bringing out their strengths. If anyone could guide Andy through this, it was him. She hoped that Andy would rise to the occasion, proving her doubts wrong.

Charlie glanced at Carol, whose usual calm demeanor seemed strained. Her eyes were darting around more than usual, and her breathing was just a bit too quick. Charlie's instincts flared; something was wrong.

Her eyes met Charlie's again, and she offered a reassuring nod, even though her heart was still pounding in her chest. Their eyes locked in a silent exchange of concern and determination.

Then, the sharp, piercing sound of an alarm shattered the silence.

Charlie's heart sank, a wave of dread washing over her. Her mind immediately jumped to Daryl, Andy, and Glenn. Were they safe? Had something gone wrong?

She felt a surge of fear and panic, her thoughts racing. The alarm meant the Saviors were alerted, and everything was about to get much more dangerous. She couldn't bear the thought of losing anyone, especially not the people she cared about most.

"They're in trouble," Carol said urgently as she started moving, giving an order to Charlie. "Stay here with Maggie."

"What?" Charlie began to follow Carol, her heart pounding with worry. She heard another pair of footsteps behind her.

"I'm going with you," both Maggie and Charlie said in unison.

"I said stay here!" Carol snapped, frustration evident in her voice.

"No!" Charlie retorted, her determination unwavering.

"Damn it!" Carol cursed under her breath.

"I have to!" Charlie argued, reaching out to pull Carol's arm.

"No, you don't!" Carol insisted. "Both of you, stay here."

"Yes, I do," Maggie interjected, pushing Charlie to the side with unexpected strength.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Carol asked, the question burning in everyone's mind.

Maggie furrowed her eyebrows, defiant. "What am I supposed to do?"

"You're supposed to be someone else!" Carol's voice was harsh, the weight of their situation pressing down on her.

Before anyone could respond, the alarm blared again, louder and more urgent. The noise was a constant reminder of the danger closing in on them.

"They need our help," Maggie said, her voice resolute.

A low growling noise broke through the alarm. Charlie turned swiftly, her knife already in her hand, and plunged it into the head of a walker that had crept up on them. She wiped the blood off her blade, her heart racing.

"You're staying here," Carol commanded, her voice leaving no room for argument. "With Charlie."

As Carol looked at Maggie, she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. Instinctively, she took out her gun. Before she could react, Charlie had already fired, hitting a man but only managing to wound his arm.

"Maggie, don't," Charlie warned, her voice tense, when she saw her walking to the wounded man.

"Let's go!" Carol urged, ready to move.

"Not unless it's done," Maggie said through gritted teeth, her gun trained on the wounded man.

Suddenly, Charlie felt a cold metal barrel press against the back of her head. A click echoed in the air, sending a shiver down her spine. "Stop!" a woman's voice commanded. "Or they are both dead!"

Carol, Charlie, and Maggie froze, their breaths hitching in unison. The woman, her eyes cold and calculating, held her gun firmly against hers and Carol's heads. Charlie's eyes darted to the side, where she saw two other women, each armed and ready to shoot.

"Guns, knives on the ground, right now," the woman with ginger hair ordered, her voice brooking no defiance.

Carol glanced at Charlie, a silent exchange passing between them. Reluctantly, they began to lower their weapons, placing them on the ground slowly. "Do it," Carol whispered, her voice strained but calm. "We need to stay alive."

Charlie nodded, her heart pounding as she followed Carol's lead. Maggie hesitated, her eyes blazing with defiance, but she too began to lower her gun.

"Good," the woman said, a twisted smile on her face. "Now, stand back."

Charlie's mind raced, looking for a way out of this. The alarm continued to wail, its relentless noise making it hard to think clearly. She glanced at Carol, who gave her a barely perceptible nod. They needed a plan, and fast.

[endless-oc-creations]

Excuse me for butting in but you and that rude anon are wrong for using Google to define sexuality. Wade is pansexual. In the comic book series and TV Show, Rick Grimes is depicted by the original creators as canonically straight and devoted to his wife. All his love interests are women. Daryl Dixon is more ambiguous but the creators and actor said previously that Daryl is meant to be asexual and a virgin, and they loved that. Peeta is defined as heterosexual by the way Suzanne depicted him. We have to go by the original creators intentions. Jesus and Aaron are canonically gay in the comic books where there was little LBGTB rep at the time. If someone straightened them out like I have seen some writers do for Jesus just so to pair them with their SI, then it's depressing. But this is fanfiction and ultimately you're not harming anyone. I think what is harmful is people like you and anon trying to justify sexuality with Googling articles that are just the creation of some hack but appear to back up your headcanons. You can easily respect the original creator's depiction but create your own fanfiction suiting your own tastes. I am saying this because I have friends who are heavy into Rick and Michonne and they go by official lore how devoted he is to a straight POC woman. They are a hetero pairing. It's odd to see people arguing he isn't when it's right there according to them. People can change his sexuality without trying to make out it's actually canon. But if you wish to make Rick a poly pairings with two men, then you can but there is a difference between canon and headcanons. I would advise anons to just move on and block. You can either agree or disagree with me but don't let it spoil your creating

First off anon, thank you for coming into my inbox and being at least polite with your ask. I wanna express that I don't mean to harm you or anyone with what I replied. I'm not forcing sexualities onto anyone and I was just using the research from articles I found from Google to make a point to that rude anon that you can't just assume that a character is straight.

I think it's important to research some things in a response if someone is trying to say "You can't do this because this character isn't this x, y and z, etc." If you get what I'm trying to say.

For example, how would you know about Daryl Dixon being ambiguous and that " the creators and actor said previously that Daryl is meant to be asexual and a virgin"? If you didn't google or seen an article based off an interview or just the interview itself?" So that is all I was doing. I was putting the links to articles.

On December 1, 2014 an article came out with an interview with Robert Kirkman, the creator of The Walking Dead, on the show Talking Dead, that"...Daryl Dixon is straight." The article is linked here.

BUT! On Mar 5, 2015, "The Walking Dead" Star Norman Reedus, who plays Daryl Dixon, gave a conan interview. (I added the link to the video interview) Where he weighed in on the possibility of his character, Daryl Dixon, being gay.

“If that’s the story they gave me, I would rock that story. I’m not afraid of it,” Reedus said. (The Varity article with more of that interview is here. )

So even though Kirkman stated that Daryl "is straight" the possibility is still open.

What I think is just a little hurtful is that you just assumed I am like that rude anon trying to "justify sexualities". That anon said they googled these characters and that they were straight. Without any information to back them up on it. I googled as well but came back with articles that had articles containing the information I stated. So some of the articles wasn't just some hack, they came with examples. Some from 'canon' itself.

Also, I looked into this after reading your message, but I couldn't find one article backing up your claim that Peeta is defined as heterosexual by the way Suzanne Collins depicted him.

I am a HUGE multi-shipper. I have too many ships that I love and adore. Some are canon, some are not. One pairing that's canon that I love is in fact Rick and Michonne, I absolutely love the way those two are devoted to one another and would do anything for each other and their family. But, I also ship Rick x Daryl for fun, I know they will NEVER be canon but it's fun to read fanfictions and watch fanvids with those two.

So please just don't assume that I am trying to take away from canon relationships when I create ocs for canon characters that are already in a relationship.

So I agree with you Anon, when you said "this is fanfiction and ultimately you're not harming anyone." It is something I whole heartedly agree with and think it is so so important. I make my characters for fun and I like thinking about their dynamics with other canon characters or in that particular world.

I hope this makes sense.

[hotdadlicense]

open blorbo season, answer for whoever 🩷💚💙💜💐🌸

loren i love you <3 okay im gonna do maybe daryl and eddie also gonna do jesse pinkman cos i'm currently rewatching breaking bad

🩷 why are they your favorite?

daryls my fav becos i dont even know. he's bitchy he's hotheaded he's a comedian without even trying he tries so fucking hard he's emotional as shit???? i just love him okay i can't even explain it's just how i exist as a person these days

eddie? he's soooooooooooooooooo. so fun. like he's got fucking emotions and he's like well obviously we bury those but then they explode out and he's like well. maybe i can be the most therapised bitch in the bar. he's literally comedy king and he's sooooo good. his heart!!!!! the love he has for his son and for his family and his team!!!!!!!

jesse!!!!!! jesse is literally like. heart of fucking GOLD okay he cares SO MUCH!!!!!!! like it doesn't matter how much walt's fucked him over, the way jesse was so fucking genuinely happy when walt told him he was in remission!!!!!! the way when jesses thinks he loses the drugs and knows that walt will literally kill him, he doesn't lie, doesn't try to hide it, doesn't even pretend for even a second that it's anyone elses fault, he literally calls mr white straight away and is like i fucked up!!!!! i lost it!!!!! it's on me!!!!!!!!! and god. the way literally everyones just like. fucking abandons him and tells him to get his fucking life together but the second he reaches out and asks for help they're like. no. but he never fucking stops trying!!!!!!! this rewatch it ruining me i havn't even reached s3 yet

💚 what are your favorite added rep headcanons for them?

bi daryl obviously. i was gonna be like tragic past but thats not even a headcanon.

eddie = gay. like what he had with shannon was real and he was big in love with her but also. gay.

jesse????? i don't even know. i'm too emotional to even think about that rn. bisexual is always fun though

💙 what's a popular headcanon for them that you adore?

feel like i have headcanons for all these peoiple but now that you're putting me on the spot im like. well my mind is Empty.

💜 'put that guy into situations' or 'take that guy out of situations'?

daryl and eddie = put that guy into situaltions.

jesse = take him out of situations for the love of god he's suffered enough

💐 what are your favorite poly ship(s) for them, if any?

daryl: there is like no fic for it but i do enjoy the idea of rick/daryl/michonne especially in 6.10 where rick and michonne are on the couch and michonnes like. where's daryl. i just think it wouldve been fun if that night went a little differently, although i adore rick/michonne as is ksfhks also ofcourse daryl/jesus/aaron. hell yeah.

eddie: i mean. now that tommy's on the scene....... eddie/buck/tommy lets Go also i've read a eddie/buck/taylor and i was like omg i love it here?

jesse: part of me wants to say jesse/skinny pete/badger but apart of me's like. do i? feel like they're more platonic for me than romantic but like. if someone linked me i would 100% read it.

🌸 what are your favorite mono ship(s) for them, if any?

daryl: daryl x rick, daryl x beth, daryl x connie, daryl x jesus, daryl x aaron, daryl x billy

eddie: eddie x buck

jesse: jesse x andrea

[theteasetwrites]

The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning

Chapter 50: Thy Kingdom Come

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader ❧ Era: Season 7 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: violence, swearing, character death ❧ Word Count: 4.7k

❧ In This Chapter: The time comes to finally fight back against the Saviors. The Alexandrians strike up a plan, but it goes a little sideways when it turns out there are some traitors in their midst. Nevertheless, some unexpected allies save the day, and the tables are finally beginning to turn.

❧ A/N: The end of Season 7 is here! Thus begins the official war with the Saviors. Who knew this would be happening to our dear Reader? Well, probably everyone because we've all seen the show but yeah. Also love this gif of Daryl. He's such an angry little teddybear (and the ears poking out from his hair? Don't get me started).

You didn’t tell anyone about Sasha’s confession the night before.

The morning after, however, Rosita arrived, and you had a feeling that she was planning something, too.

You admired their courage, but you worried that anything they would do would prematurely affect your group’s chances of winning. Still, who were you to stop them?

If Daryl was still being held there, you would’ve gone with them. You still wanted to kill Negan, but your need for vengeance had calmed a little since he came back. It was still there, and always would be there, but you could wait now.

When the Saviors came that morning, you saw Sasha leave through a secret exit. You would’ve tried to stop her again, but you were frantically looking around for Daryl. Jesus found you first.

“(Y/N),” he said, grabbing onto your arm and beginning to pull you towards your trailer. “You need to hide, the Saviors are coming.”

“I need to find Daryl first,” you said. “He needs to hide, too.”

He shook his head and looked towards the gates where the Saviors were driving through. “There’s no time,” he insisted. “Come on.”

He pulled you inside and hid you under the bed, then shoved a long cardboard box next to you to block anyone from seeing you under the bed. “Stay here,” he said.

You swallowed hard and did what he said, though you were worried sick about Daryl, as usual.

If the Saviors found him, they’d kill him. If the Saviors found you, they’d turn the Hilltop upside down looking for him, and then they’d find him… and they’d kill him.

When the Saviors left, Daryl pulled the cardboard box out from under the bed, and then pulled you out.

“Oh, thank God,” you said, holding his face in your hands. “They didn’t find you?”

Daryl shook his head. “Nah. Got put in the cellar with Maggie. We’re good. You okay?”

“Mhm,” you said. “What’d they want?”

Apparently, they wanted Dr. Carson.

He was taken to the Sanctuary to be their new doctor since the other one, who happened to be Dr. Carson’s brother, “got himself killed.” Though they hadn’t killed anyone, they took the doctor who was taking care of Maggie and her baby, and the only doctor the Hilltop had.

You spent the rest of the day training more people. Sasha and Rosita were both gone, you knew that, but you couldn’t tell anyone. You didn’t want to. So, you covered for them by training their classes.

By nightfall, Daryl seemed to notice that they were gone, and he bursted into your trailer to pick up his crossbow. You sat up in your bed, putting down the book you were reading. “What’s wrong?” you asked.

“Can’t find Sasha or Rosita,” he said. “Worried they might’ve done somethin’ stupid.”

You sighed and tossed the covers away from you to rise to your feet. “Are you going after them?”

Daryl eyed you suspiciously. “You know where they went?”

You nodded. “I think so… Sasha talked to me about it last night. I didn’t want to say anything until they were long gone.”

Daryl shook his head at you. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

You swallowed hard, knowing he was upset with you, and you couldn’t blame him. You should’ve told him, but you had sympathy for their cause. “I tried to stop her,” you said. “She wouldn’t listen to me, then Rosita showed up…” You trailed off. “Sasha wanted me to go with her. I said no.”

Daryl inched closer to you, his crossbow slung over his shoulder. “They’re going to kill Negan, right?”

You nodded. “Yes. I—I told her it wasn’t the right time, but I also… wanted her to go. To do it. I wanted to go with her, a part of me did… for what they did to Glenn and Abraham… and you.”

Daryl rested a hand on your shoulder. “I’m glad you didn’t go,” he said.

You nodded. “I can’t be away from you right now. I—I need you.”

Daryl released his crossbow and set it on a nearby table, then pulled you into him. “I need you, too.”

The following day, Rick came to the Hilltop and informed you all that Tara knew of a settlement that had guns and a reason to fight the Saviors.

The group, located on the coast, was appropriately called Oceanside.

It seemed like a promising lead, and Michonne and Rick had recently scavenged several guns, so you would all be armed in case things went south.

Straddling the back of Daryl’s bike, and still trying to get your bearings on the thing, you joined the others in traveling to the settlement.

To your surprise, Bev was among those who volunteered to help.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you here,” you said to her as she helped you lay out a dynamite trap, in case things went wrong.

“Well, I was supposed to be substituting for your class since you ran off with Robin Hood,” she said with mock annoyance, and you smiled at the reference. “But I got Yvonne to cover for me. I’m getting better at fighting, you know. I’m ready to kill those assholes, and we’re going to need all the help we can get.”

You carefully laid down a stick of dynamite, and looked across the way at Jesus and Daryl who were doing the same. Aaron and Eric were on watch making sure no one interrupted you.

“Sorry for leaving,” you said. “We got the Hilltop on board, though. And the Kingdom… well, it didn’t really work out. It’s going to be worth it, though. And I’m glad you’re here.”

Bev smiled. “Glad to be here… it’s good to feel useful.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Teaching the future of America is useful,” you argued. “Now you’re fighting for the future. Not much difference, really.”

When the bombs were set, you were just waiting for Tara to give the signal as she spoke with the leader of the group. From what Tara had told you all, you gathered that they were all women whose husbands, brothers, sons, and fathers were killed by the Saviors. Surely, they’d want to help you.

That wasn’t the case.

Tara never gave you the signal, and the bombs went off as a result. They were placed outside the settlement, but they were there to scare them and to corral them in one place.

It seemed to work. Daryl led you, Bev, Jesus, Aaron, and Eric to two of the women who had broken off from the others. You and Bev tied them up, then brought them to a larger group where Gabriel and Carl had the rest of the community at gunpoint.

Rick joined, too, and began to speak to the frightened women. “Now, we made a lot of noise,” he said. “We want to wrap this up quick so you can send people to redirect anything comin’ this way. Tara said your forests are relatively clear, so we won’t take any chances. No one needs to get hurt. This is just about what you have, what we need.”

“Nobody’s taking anything!” an older woman yelled as she approached with Tara at gunpoint. “You need to let everyone go and leave right now. Just walk away or this one dies.”

You locked your sights onto the woman, pointing your rifle at her head in case she actually did shoot Tara.

“We’ll leave you alone,” Rick said. “But we’re taking your weapons with us, that’s not gonna change. It’s Natania, right? Put the gun down, let’s talk about what we can change.”

“No,” she said. “Leave, right now.”

There was some back and forth after that, with the other women of Oceanside showing interest in fighting the Saviors with your group. Still, Natania was adamant.

“Some of you actually want to fight them?” she asked, still pointing the gun at Tara’s head. “After everything? We can lose our guns, but us leaving this place to fight? After everything, I have to remind you? Remember what they did to us. You need to see this, open your eyes!”

Suddenly, Michonne, who was standing watch in a tree, yelled: “Rick! Walkers!”

With the distraction, the young beside Natania, who you gathered to be her granddaughter, punched her in the face, knocking her to the ground.

Luckily, she was fast enough that Tara didn’t get shot.

Turning your attention to the walkers, you noticed they were much closer than you anticipated. They filed through the trees, a herd of them. They must’ve come from the water because they were soaking wet, some of them even covered in barnacles.

“Everybody up!” Rick yelled. “Get the children behind us. They’re coming.”

“First shift, join ‘em on the line,” one of the women said to the others. “Knives out, dead only. Dead only!”

Forming a line, several of you prepared to shoot your guns. Daryl held his crossbow at his eye line, and you felt him grab you and situate you right next to him. Holding up your automatic rifle, you waited for Rick’s signal.

“Everyone, shots within ten feet of the line. That’s it,” he said.

The walkers began to inch closer, so close that you could now smell the hideous stench of death radiating off of their decomposing bodies.

“Now!”

A barrage of gunfire was released, and you set off several shots until the walkers got close enough to fight by hand, and the women from Oceanside who were lined up with you raised their knives to defend themselves, and your group.

You kept shooting, and when one walker got particularly close to you, one of the women you tied up plunged her knife into its head. You turned around with wide eyes. “Thanks,” you said to her.

She nodded, and with a few more shots, the herd was defeated.

“We’re not fighting them with you,” Natania said as she began to walk away, back towards the settlement. “So take your damn guns and go.”

That’s precisely what you did.

You supposed even if you didn’t have the numbers from Oceanside, you were still getting their guns. It seemed wrong to take their guns from them and leave them defenseless, but that was what Rick wanted you to do, and what you knew needed to be done to defeat the Saviors once and for all.

You carried a large basket of guns alongside Bev. “Do you think this is right?” she asked you. “Leaving them without protection?”

You sighed. “No, but it’s what we have to do, whether they help us or not.”

You all returned to Alexandria in the evening. You had to admit, it was nice being home again after about three days away. Daryl was happy to be home, too.

That is, until Rosita informed you all that she brought a hostage from the Sanctuary.

You headed home for the night, and Daryl followed Rosita with the others to see who she had locked up in the makeshift Alexandria jail.

You were lying on the couch in your pajamas when Daryl bursted through the door, throwing his boots onto the ground and grunting in frustration.

You sat up. “Who was it?”

Daryl looked at you seriously. “Dwight.”

Your eyes widened. “He’s here?”

“Nah,” Daryl said, sitting down on the edge of the couch and unbuttoning his shirt. “He just left.”

“Why?”

“Said they’re comin’ tomorrow, Negan and the Saviors. He’s gonna slow ‘em down, block the road and buy us some time to get ready.”

“Do you believe him?”

“Gotta,” he said. “We let him go back. Wanted to kill him.”

You leaned closer to him and pushed back some of the stray hairs draping over his face. “Why didn’t you?”

Daryl moved his eyes over your face, studying your curious expression. “‘Cause I couldn’t risk it.”

You nodded, then wrapped your hands around the back of his neck and nuzzled his head into your chest. He responded by wrapping his arms around you and heaving a deep breath into your warm body.

You were silent for a while, just enjoying the sound of his breathing. “I’m gonna kill him, when it’s over.”

You closed your eyes and rested your chin on his head. “I know. You will. I’ll kill him if you don’t.”

Daryl pulled away and looked at you. “Sasha’s there, at the Sanctuary. She’s alive, but she’s there.”

You nodded. You assumed that’s where she was, considering Rosita came back without her. “I should’ve done more to stop them,” you said. “I just… couldn’t.”

Daryl stroked your hair. “Ya did what you could. She’s tough. She’ll make it out.”

The two of you were silent for a moment. “They’re coming tomorrow?” you asked.

Daryl nodded. “Yeah, and we’re gonna fight ‘em.”

Your heart trembled and you felt a shiver up your spine. Though you wanted to fight the Saviors, you didn’t realize it would be happening so soon. If your group was going to attack the Saviors tomorrow, it was the beginning of a war.

Sure enough, that’s exactly what you all prepared for that next day: war.

Daryl, Rosita, and Aaron filled an old big rig outside the walls with explosives. Rick and Michonne invited a group of people they’d come across a few days earlier in a junkyard. They were led by a woman named Jadis, and that was about all you knew about them, other than the fact that they arrived in Alexandria that day to help your group.

The plan was to not even let the Saviors in through the gate. Your group was going to have enforcements hidden behind the walls on the guard posts, as well as on the ground in case they did trickle in. That was where you were—on the ground, an automatic rifle in your hands, standing with Daryl, Tara, Rosita, and several people from Jadis’ group. They weren’t the most talkative, as you found out after trying to talk strategy with one of them, but they seemed serious about fighting the Saviors, so you couldn’t complain.

“You got this?” Daryl asked you as he nudged your shoulder.

You nodded, smiling a little as you remembered him asking you that back at the farm. Only this time, the threat was much more dangerous than walkers.

“I think so,” you responded. “We’re going to win.”

“Hell, yeah we are,” Daryl said, with a disproportionately serious look to his face.

Not moments later, you heard the sound of vehicles approaching, and the voice of someone familiar which you didn’t intend on hearing.

“All points are covered,” spoke Eugene into a megaphone, standing on the back of a large truck. “Every contingency is already met. I come armed with two barrels of the truth. A test is upon you, and I’m giving out the cheat sheet.”

You exchanged a worried look with Daryl. Clearly, Eugene didn’t even try to resist Negan’s offer. He must’ve been pretty important to the Saviors if he was doing the talking.

“H-hello,” Eugene said through the megaphone as he met eyes with Rick, who was standing atop the guard post. “I come salved with the hope that it is my dropped knowledge that you heed. Options are zero to none. Compliance and fealty are your only escape. Bottom-lining it, you may thrive or you may die. I sincerely wish for the former for everyone’s sake. The jig is up, and in full effect. Will you comply, Rick?”

“Where’s Negan?” Rick asked.

“I’m Negan,” Eugene answered.

You closed your eyes and sighed.

Never had you been more disappointed in Eugene. Sure, when it turned out that he lied about Washington, you were pissed, but you had forgiven him since. Now, you wanted to smack the shit out of him.

Apparently, so did Rick. After several moments of anticipation, he gave Rosita the signal to set off the dynamite.

When it didn’t go off, you panicked internally.

When Jadis’ group began pointing their guns at your people, you screamed internally.

Shit!

That’s when you knew—they were working with the Saviors, and the Saviors knew about the plan. Whether Dwight told them or Jadis’ group, you were pissed.

One of the traitors opened the gate for Negan, and you all stood by helplessly as the guns were trained on you.

Then, Negan stepped out from one of the vehicles and stood next to Eugene.

“You ever hear the one about the stupid little prick named Rick who thought he knew shit but didn’t know shit, and got everyone that he gave a shit about killed?” Negan asked Rick, then pointed up at him with that big, smug smirk. “It’s about you. You’re all gonna wanna put your guns down now.”

You kept your gun close to you.

“No one drops anything,” Rick said.

“You push me, and you push me, and you push me, Rick!” Negan exclaimed. “You just tried to blow us up, right? I mean, I get me, my people… but Eugene? He’s one of yours. And after what he did, he stepped up. You people… are animals. Universe gives you a sign, and you just shove your finger right up its ass.” Negan made an obscene gesture with his middle finger. “Dwight, Simon,” he alerted his henchmen. “Chop chop.”

You began to breathe heavily when they propped up a big coffin on the truck. There was only one person you could think of being inside there.

“So you don’t like Eugene anymore,” he said. “You guys gotta like Sasha. I do, too. Got her right here, packaged for your convenience. Alive and well. Now, I brought her so I wouldn’t have to kill all of you, and not killing all of you could get complicated. See, I know there’s a lot of firepower left in there, Rick, so I’m gonna make this simple—I want all the guns you managed to scrape up. I want every last grain of lemonade you got left. I want a person of your own choosing for Lucille.”

You glared as he pointed to that stupid bat he was always anthropomorphosizing. You wanted nothing more than to shove it up his ass, but you knew he’d find some sick, twisted pleasure in it.

As if he noticed how much he was pissing you off in particular, he turned his sights towards Daryl. “Daryl,” he said. “Ooo, I gotta get me my Daryl back.”

Over my dead body.

“And the pool table,” he continued. “And all the pool cues and chalk, and I want it now or Sasha dies. And then all of you, probably. Come on, Rick. Just ‘cause I brought her in a casket doesn’t mean she has to leave in it.”

The silence settled in like a plague.

“You know what, you suck ass, Rick, you really do,” he said. “I don’t want to have to kill her but that’s exactly what you’re gonna make me do.”

“Let me see her,” Rick said.

“Oh,” he chuckled. “All right. Just give me a second. I might have to get her up to speed, you can’t hear shit inside this thing.” He smiled and turned to knock on the coffin with his bat. “Sash, you’re not gonna believe this crap.”

When he opened the casket, Sasha did come out, but she wasn’t herself. She was a walker.

Your eyes widened as she lunged out and snarled at Negan. “Holy goddamn!” he yelled. She pushed Negan off the truck, and a few horrified moments passed before Carl turned and began shooting at the members of Jadis’ group who had their guns pointing at you all.

Following suit, you turned and shot two traitors directly in the face. In a matter of seconds, the place was a war zone. Gunfire rang out from every angle around you, and you were firing in rapid bursts to take out as many hostiles as you could. When the immediate threat was taken out, you turned your attention towards the Saviors on the other side of the gate.

When the Saviors became too much to handle as they flooded in, Daryl pushed you back.

“Go!” he yelled to you, covering you as you fell back.

The two of you hid behind one of the parked cars that were kept near the gate, and shot at as many Saviors as possible.

You’d been in a war of sorts before, but this was unlike anything you’d seen. You were outnumbered with the Governor, too, but the sheer magnitude of the Saviors’ manpower, combined with Jadis’ group, was something you were unprepared for.

Soon, you were running low on bullets, and both you and Daryl had to use the last few shots to take out two Saviors and take their guns, which were also on their last legs.

It didn’t matter, though, because a triumphant roar sounded from the other side of Alexandria.

A roar as in… a tiger’s roar.

You shared a dumbfounded stare with Daryl for a brief moment, then charged towards the animalistic noise, where a rain of gunfire was also sounding out.

It couldn’t be, you thought. But then, who else could it be?

It was like a scene out of the Jungle Book, if Shere Khan were more inclined to rip out Mowgli’s jugular.

All around you, warriors from the Kingdom, some on horseback, were firing at your enemies.

A cascade of hope flowed through you, as though the Kingdom had unleashed a righteous Armageddon, a preordained battle between good and evil—and now good was winning.

Clouds of opaque, white smoke bloomed and curled in the streets as what was left of Jadis’ group fell back and climbed the gates.

Amidst the chaos, you were separated from Daryl, but soon you reunited with Maggie, who was leading a group from the Hilltop. Watching each other’s backs, you fired incessantly at the Saviors as you ran through the streets.

It was a loud, bloody event, but you now had the upper hand. Forces from Alexandria, the Kingdom, and the Hilltop moved together as one and chased the remaining Saviors out of the walls.

From a distance, you could see Daryl climbing one of the trucks by the gate in a last ditch attempt to fire at the last of the escaping Saviors. When he got to his feet atop the truck and raised his gun, he saw there was nothing there.

The smoke cleared soon after, and you met Daryl on the ground when he climbed down.

“We did it,” you sighed as you hugged him tightly.

He nestled his face in your hair, not saying a word as he breathed heavily and watched stray strands of your hair curl and wave from his exasperated breaths.

The rest of that day was spent removing bodies from the streets of Alexandria, and burying the ones you knew. The Saviors and the Scavengers, as you were calling Jadis’ group, were taken outside the walls to be burned.

By the time everything was finished, you heard a knock at your door.

You were the only one home that evening, as Daryl was standing watch on the guard tower. When you opened the door, you were overjoyed to see it was Carol.

You had seen her earlier in the war zone, fighting alongside the Kingdom, but you hadn’t yet had a chance to settle down and actually speak with her. The last time you saw her was just after you attacked one of the Saviors’ bases, and so much had changed since then, though it was not even a month ago.

Surely, she must’ve known about Glenn and Abraham by now.

“Come in,” you said after greeting her with a hug.

You took her into the kitchen and had her sit at the bar while you made the two of you some green tea. “Did you miss me?” she asked with a small smirk.

“Of course,” you replied, taking a few dishes out of the cabinet in front of you. “Daryl did, too. Everyone did. But you’re a resident of the Kingdom now I see?”

She sighed. “For the time being. The king wants me to help out, but I’m fighting for Alexandria.”

“Well, you’re one tough bitch,” you said, sparking a laugh between the two of you. “We’re lucky to have you.”

She nodded, and you looked at your hands as you remembered the moment you first met Carol.

“You know,” you began, “when we were back on that interstate, when they dropped the bombs on Atlanta… back at the beginning… I think meeting you was one of the best things that ever happened to me.”

“Why’s that?” she asked.

“Because I don’t think I would have made it very far otherwise. Maybe I would’ve met some other people, gone somewhere else… could have been a very different series of events. In all likelihood, I wouldn’t have lived. Sometimes I still don’t know how I made it this far. But then I remember why—it’s you, and everyone else, all the people I met, the group we became a part of. That’s how I survived, that’s what kept me going… and that’s what we’re fighting for right now.”

You could hear the water in the kettle rumbling now.

“I met you, then Lori, then Shane… then we went down to the quarry, and we met the others… and I found Daryl, brought him back. There isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t think about how lucky I’ve been. Now, seeing you here again, fighting with us… for us, it fills my heart with so much joy.”

Carol reached her hand out across the countertop and took your hand in hers. There were tears forming in her eyes, and she smiled at you sweetly. All the while, you could hear the whistle of the kettle beginning to sound. “I’ll always fight for you,” she said. “For Rick, Daryl, Maggie… everyone. You’re my family.”

You smiled. “They can’t take that away from us.”

The two of you were quiet for a while, until you noticed the kettle whistling loudly. Turning around and loosening from Carol’s grip, you quickly switched off the burner. “Water’s ready,” you said, pouring the steaming hot water into the teapot. “Just gotta let the tea steep for a few minutes.”

Carol sniffled, then thought again about what you said. “The beginning…” She trailed off as you turned to face her again. “Funny, I never really thought of it as the beginning, more like the end.”

You folded your arms across your chest. “Well, it was the end of something, and the beginning of something. You can’t have an end without a beginning, right?”

“Guess not,” she agreed. “Maybe there is no beginning or end… it’s all just… one big circle.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Maybe… I guess there’s different ways of looking at it. Maybe nothing ever ended or began. If you really look at the world, it’s not much different from what it used to be. People still hate each other, want what they don’t have, kill and steal and rape. Only difference is the walkers.”

You turned around to check on the tea in the pot, which had become a beautiful light golden color. The fresh, herbal scent, accompanied by a pleasant warmth, caressed your face and delighted your senses.

“There’s still good people,” she said. “There’s love, and hope. That’s what we’re fighting for, right?”

You smiled as you brought the teapot over and began to pour a liquid cord of hot, golden tea into her cup, then yours. “Right. Love, hope, freedom… good things like that.” You set the pot down.

“And tea,” Carol added as she held her cup up to her mouth and blew on it gently.

You nodded. “Yeah, we’ve got a lot to fight for, to live for.”

~

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[plus-size-reader]

Just a Kid

Daryl Dixon x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2453 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Taking Lydia in as your own with Daryl

Hi, I couldn’t get this concept out of my head. 

—————————————————————————————————

“She’s just a kid, D” you hummed, carefully working at the knot in his neck that he’d been complaining about for days.

You knew that this thing with the girl, and Jesus, and all these people wearing faces was really starting to wear on Daryl’s nerves.

You could tell, because every night when he came back to your house, he was even more tense than the last and at this point, you were really starting to get concerned that he would burst a blood vessel.

There was just too much going on right now.

...but you knew what you had to do.

Lydia was just a child, and even if her people were the purest evil you could ever imagine, that didn’t mean that she was. If nothing else, she was little more than a battered little girl who had never known any better.

That was how you saw her, and you knew Daryl did too.

He just wasn’t ready to take on so much yet, and honestly, he didn’t know if he could. It was hard for him to have to take over all this at Hilltop, and that girl they’d brought was only making it worse.

“You still on that?” he grumbled back, really hoping that you would have gotten over this pipe dream of yours already.

The two of you had talked this conversation to death, and while you knew there was a good chance that nothing was going to change, you would continue to do so until he changed his mind.

Ever since she had come to know this group, you had gotten it in your head that the two of you could give her the home that she had never had but Daryl wasn’t so easily convinced. 

It just seemed like more than you were ready for.

He saw that look in your eyes, when she was finally safe behind those gates, but then you’d gone and made it even worse.

You met her.

Maybe it hadn’t been the greatest idea, and maybe it wouldn’t help but you knew that at least you could try to understand better.

You could only imagine how a girl in her position would be feeling. You knew that if you were her, you would have been absolutely terrified.

After all, she was surrounded by strangers, in an unforgiving and new environment.

It was possible that one friendly face would make all the difference to her and as it happened, you had one of the friendliest faces around here.

If anyone was going to get through to her, it was you.

Course, Daryl was against the idea from the start but you knew that no one else was going to stick their neck out for her if you two didn’t. That made it more than worth it to you, even if no one else understood.

She didn’t say a word for the first few days.

Lydia had nothing to say to you and frankly, you couldn't blame her for that. You were a stranger, the enemy as far as she knew, and there was no reason she should have trusted you at all, but that wasn’t always going to be the case.

The more you came, the more she realized that you may have been the only person willing to stick their neck out for her. Once she decided that you weren’t going to kill her, or sell her out, it was pretty much settled.

You needed to help her.

It wasn’t up for debate, but for some reason, convincing Daryl was proving to be an even more difficult task.

“We aren’t her parents, it ain’t our place” he tried, desperately hoping that you would see how insane what you were proposing was. Still, you weren’t letting up, and he knew you well enough to know what that meant.

You were invested.

You were going to do whatever you could to get through to her.

Perhaps it was because you two found yourself comparing her to Daryl or perhaps it was your own soft spot for kids.

In any case, the damage was done.

“She doesn’t have parents D, that’s why she needs us” you sighed, leaning down to rest fully into his back, your head nestled in the space between his shoulder and his neck. It gave you just enough leverage to look at him.

It was hardly up for debate.

Lydia’s mother saw her as little more than an asset, something to abuse and control. After all the things you’d endured with Daryl, it made her well being that much more personal, for both of you.

It took months to get Daryl to tell you about his past.

He trusted you more than anyone else in the world, and his greatest pain was still too difficult to share until he knew you weren’t going anywhere.

You had no doubt that the hold this girl’s mother had on her was even stronger.

At least Daryl had Merle, he knew how much of an asshole his dad was.

Lydia was brainwashed.

You would be lucky if you were ever able to break whatever her mother had done to her, due to the extreme circumstances, but you knew that you had to try.

No one deserved the way she had been treated, and you wanted to make sure that she understood it wasn’t her fault.

Her mother was cruel, and there was nothing more to it than that.

The best way to prove that to her would be giving her a real home, proving to her that not everyone was going to treat her the way that she did. Maybe, if she felt safe, she would finally start to open up.

When the two of you first met, Daryl hardly spoke to you and when he did, it was always in a gruff, unfriendly tone. It took him some time to warm up to you and once he had, that tone warmed up to one of love.

It just took time.  

The same thing could apply to Lydia, if you just gave her some time.

If nothing else, it had to be worth a shot.

She was worth it.

“You really wanna do this?” he hummed, after what felt like an eternity of silence between the two of you.

Daryl heard you, he got the message, he just couldn't be sure that being with you, and him, would be enough.

He knew what it was like to be in her position, and he knew how hard it was to let people in. It was possible that she would never allow herself to be cared for in the way you wanted to, and he didn’t want you getting your hopes up.

You would be crushed if she rejected your offer, but it couldn’t hurt.

Even if she wanted nothing to do with either of you, at least you tried to give her something. That was much more than anyone else in the world had ever done for her.

“Yeah, I do. I really do” you smiled, not even bothering to hide the wide grin that spread across your face at the idea of what he was saying. It wasn’t exactly a yes, but it was as much of a yes as you were going to get from Daryl.

It was more than enough.

At the end of the day, even if it was a bad idea, Daryl knew better than to argue with you. What you were suggesting was crazy, but it was so very you that he couldn’t even worry about it.

He fell in love with you and that heart of gold of yours, so if this was what it was telling you to do, he owed it to you to let you do what you thought was right.

You had to, just as he had to.

...and of all the crazy ideas you’d ever had, this was hardly the most dangerous one.

All you wanted to do now was give a little girl a place to live and a family, it wasn’t like you were suggesting some kind of suicide mission. You and Daryl had faced far worse than a child, desperate for belonging and acceptance.

What you were doing was new for all of you.

~

Lydia wasn’t sure, at first.

After all, she had never really had parents and you and Daryl had certainly never been parents.

It just wasn’t something you had any experience with.

However, with all that you’d lost recently, it didn’t make sense to turn her away too. She was a product of her circumstances and nothing more. It wouldn’t be fair to make Lydia pay for the sins of her mother.

Instead, you chose to put all your effort into making sure she never felt like a burden again.

You knew that she blamed herself, in part, for what her mother had done. Henry was gone, Tara was gone, Enid was gone, it was just too much.

You’d lost too many people in the months it had been and you weren’t interested in losing any more.

You certainly weren’t interested in letting a little girl take the blame for what her people had done, not when she first arrived, and not now.

Lydia was good, she was trying, and that wasn’t something you were going to debate.

Thankfully, that was something you and Daryl could both agree on, without all the initial back and forth.

You were both winging it, of course, but you knew that you had to try and stick up for her. Even the smallest gesture would make a world of difference.

She deserved to feel safe for once.

When you and Daryl had decided to take her in, it wasn’t supposed to be perfect. You weren’t going to move into a little cottage surrounded by a white picket fence, with flowers and a dog.

It was making the best of whatever shit show situation you’d been dealt.

It was all you knew to do.

“You wanna help me with this?” you hummed, addressing your words to the young girl at your side.

What you were asking wasn’t really all that much of a question but considering that you were sewing up a huge hole in Daryl’s button up, she wasn’t interested.

“D does it himself, mostly, but he’s clumsy about it. The stitching always comes undone” you reminded, thinking about the last time he’d offered to stitch up a hole in your jeans, and it had unraveled by the end of the day.

He meant well, he really did, but he had never really had the patience for more delicate things like this. Sewing of any kind, even stitches in flesh, had never really been his foray.

...but that was okay.

You told him that you would take care of this, and he could pick up the slack somewhere else, making dinner or cleaning blood and dirt out of the laundry.

“I don’t know how” she tried, looking at you in the way she often would when she ran into something she had never done before. The two of you’d had this same conversation when you suggested she go to school with the other children.

She didn’t even know how to read when she came to you, and now, she is making great progress.

It was just a matter of learning what she had never had a chance to learn before.

“I’ll teach you, it's easy” you smiled, handing her the garment with one hand, and the needle with the other.

She looked unsure, lost even, but she took it nonetheless.

“Hold the fabric with this hand, and move the needle with the other, up and down in as straight a line as you can manage” you instructed, keeping it as simple as you possibly could until she got the hang of it.

You knew this was probably a tad bit overwhelming, and if she didn't go it right the first time, she would get discouraged but luckily, years by Daryl’s side had taught you a patience that nothing else ever could.

You could sit here all day if you had to, as long as she got the hang of it.

Lydia had been living with her pack of skin walkers all this time, only doing what she was told, but that wasn’t the life she was living now.

She was part of a community, and she had a family, but that also meant that she had to learn to protect and provide for herself when you weren’t there. If something ever happened to you or Daryl, she still had to live.

Her clothes couldn’t be ripped or ruined, her wounds couldn’t stay open to fester, and eventually, she would need to cook and clean for herself too, but for now, a helping hand was all you needed.

People were what kept your communities running, and your home was no different. You and Daryl were a team, communicating without words most of the time, and she was part of that now.

She was part of the team.

“Like that?” she tried, hoping that some part of what she was doing was right. There was no real way to tell but you didn’t seem upset so that had to be a good sign.

It was a strangely domestic task for her, one that brought back memories of her people, her old people, sewing up masks of tanned human skin. The motion was the same, the idea was the same, but there was something normal about this.

She was just fixing a shirt.

There was nothing volatile or aggressive about this, and it wasn’t for anything other than someone she cared for. That made it a little easier to stomach than any other chore may have been.

This was for Daryl after all, and if anyone had earned something like this, it was him.

Lydia wasn’t blind.

She knew what the two of you had done for her, always making sure she had something to eat and sticking up for her when the others got a little too comfortable with their distaste for her.

“Exactly, just a little closer together” you prompted, smiling when she did just as you asked. She was a quick learner, and you knew that she could do this.

This was normal, real, and the sooner she learned that she could live a completely normal life, the sooner she would really adapt to life in a community like this one.

“Once you’re done, you can help Daryl with dinner. I’m sure he’d love the help”

It was hardly where she expected to be, but it was more than where she’d been. At least, with you and Daryl, Lydia knew that she was safe.

[fernando-jpg]

okay since you’re taking requests, could you do something daryl x reader where daryl and the reader hate each other but get into an only one bed situation on a run together?? only if you want of course.

I've finally finished it-

Here ya go luv

Winter was a hard season to survive in. Everything was cold and dead. Not a lot of people survived the first winter that came after the world ended. It was harder to get supplies and transport them back into camp. It was harder to get water - it froze in the pipes, lakes and rivers. But there were some pros. Some walkers froze in the sheet of ice, which made it easier to decapitate them and they were slower. But you weren't faster than before. 

During the run, you and Daryl hadn't met a lot of them and you were thankful for that. You were exhausted from having to make your way through layers of snow. Your whole body seemed to shiver from time to time as wind hit you. 

"It sucks." 

As soon as you let out another groan, Daryl's eyes wandered over his shoulder, at you, with visible annoyance written all over his face. 

"Stop complinin'. It ain't helpin'." Daryl huffed.

You rolled your eyes at him, fighting the urge to shoot something back at him. You looked at him, your eyes settling at his crossbow which he carried on his back. You didn't want to fight with him now but god, you wanted to do so. 

Daryl Dixon was one of not so many people that were pissing you off just by the way he was looking at you. You two never were on good terms. When you first met him at the quarry, he was an arrogant son of a bitch, who liked to start fights with anyone who was near him. You guessed, that he was a prick due to his brother's influence on him who was even worse than him. Merle was the top one guy who you hated, but his baby brother was in the second place. 

When the group had arrived at the prison, Rick had decided that you and Daryl were going to be paired for runs. You requested to be paired with perhaps Carol or even Carl but he ignored you. He knew that you and Dixon are not really getting along but Grimes only stated that "maybe runs will bring you two closer". Grimes hated when you and Daryl fought about smallest things and he would do anything just for you two to get along. But it was clearly not happening. 

"The sun is setting down." 

"I know that." he huffed again. 

"How far is the cabin then?" you asked. 

"Uhh.." he trailed off, looking at the map in his hands. "We should've seen 't 'bout by now." 

"What?" you stopped in your tracks, snow crunching under your boots. "So we missed it?" 

"Dunno." 

"Jesus--" you scoffed. Moving forward, you walked up to him. "Give me that map. Clearly you can't read it properly." 

Daryl was about to say something but you snatched the map away from his hands, almost ripping it in half. You grabbed your flashlight and shined the light at it since the daylight was slowly dying and it was harder and harder to see. You followed the road with your gloved finger and then looked around yourself for any signs. Everything seemed right. The crossroad was before your eyes not far away and it was shown on the map. The cabin should've been on your right, hidden slightly behind the trees. 

You folded the map, hiding it in the pocket of your coat before making your way away from the road and into the woods. You had to find that damn cabin. Otherwise you wouldn't survive the night here as you saw that storm was approaching. 

"Hey! Where yer goin'?" Daryl called out after you and you've heard his footsteps behind you, close by. 

"To find the cabin you've lost." you mumbled out, pulling out your machete just in case something appeared in front of you.

Not a moment later you found your destination. Completely ruined. 

A huge tree had fallen over the roof of the cabin, destroying it. You couldn't even make out the previous state of the small house. Now it was just a bunch of wooden pieces laying around, some covered in snow. 

You sighed, running your hands down your face to calm down. You had to quickly figure out something to not die due to hipotermia. 

After hiding your weapon, you grabbed the map again and looked through it again, finding only one other way to survive. 

"We gotta move back to the first crossroad and then move West." you informed Daryl, brushing past him to get back to the road. 

"Yeah and then what?" he asked. "There are no more cabins around 'ere." 

"On my last run, I found a small cottage about an hour away from here. It's not shown on the map but it marked it with an x. I wanted to stay the night there but found it overrun with walkers. Someone gathered a bunch of them there and since then they're stuck in there. We'll deal with them and then I'll finally be able to sleep for a few hours."

"Will we actually be able to finish them all off?" 

"We'll have to." 

During the one hour walk to the cottage, none of you two said anything to each other. You didn't mind it all. Anyway the talk will only lead to another fight. And you were already upset enough. 

When you arrived at the cottage, as you predicted it was flooded with walkers. You made a deal with Daryl, that you'll let the walkers in pairs so he could deal with them, then switch. It was a hard job but it had to be done if you wanted to rest. 

An bit later, there were only a few walkers left inside but damn, you were tired. You barely stood on your legs. All that doors pushing, blocking and decapitating walkers was really exhausting. 

"How many left more?" Daryl called out to you. 

"I, uh, about six I think." you breathed out. 

You opened the doors for them to walk out once more, letting out two again. You sighed when they started to push at the doors again and with all the strength you've had, started to close the doors back. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough. All of the walkers were out now as you were almost knocked out by the slam of the doors. You fell back, onto the snow, holding your forehead in pain. 

You've heard Daryl call out to you and when you saw what he was dealing with, you immediately ran to help him. Eight walkers were after him. 

You ran up to one and stabbed him on the back of the head. The rotted body fell down onto the ground with a thud, catching attention of 3 more. You kicked the closes one in the knee, breaking his leg, making him fall down which made it easier to finish them off. Quickly you dealt with other two, without missing a beat. Adrenaline kicked in. But suddenly you fell down and walker landed right on top of you. 

You tried to keep calm as you were blocking his gnashing teeth away from your face but it wasn't enough. You've lost your knife and almost a will to fight this monster. 

"Daryl!" 

You've sounded defeated, voice weak and full of fear. Yeah, you were scared shit less. It wasn't like this haven't happen before. But now you were so tired you didn't know how much longer you would hold him back. 

But finally Daryl approached you, pulling the walker off of you, before finishing him on the ground. 

You were about to say something, anything to him when you've felt  hot liquid streaming down your face. You wanted to quickly wipe it off, wanting to see what it is when, Daryl grabbed your wrist. 

"Stop, yer gonna infect it." he said. "It's no walkers blood." 

Finally, at the cottage, you were able to clean yourself off and put a bandage on your head. You've had a cut coming right over your eye. It wasn't deep, no stitches were needed. Not like you two had some. 

While you were cleaning off, Dixon made fire in the fireplace when he broke some furniture in the house. It got warmer and you were thankful the stack of wood was enough for you two to survive the night. He even blocked the doors and windows, making sure no-one would break in. No man nor walker. 

"There's only one bed." Daryl informed you as soon as you stepped into the room. "Imma sleep on t' floor." 

"Don't be ridiculous Dixon." you scoffed. "We can share it. I'll have my side and you'll have yours. I'm not gonna even touch you." 

"..Fine." 

You quickly grabbed your extra blanket and laid down. Walking around the house made you quite dizzy. You turned on your right side, facing away from him, just wanting to go to sleep. 

Eventually he laid down next to you, but you were wrong. Your backs were certainly touching. You didn't mind it actually. 

You've heard him shuffle around from time to time. He was either moving his leg or his arm on his whole body at once.

"Jesus christ, continue this and you'll seriously end up on the floor." you growled almost, annoyed at his actions. 

"...'m sorry." 

You were actually surprised at his words. He never said these words to you before. You now have heard, how soft his voice can be instead of his gruffy usual one. 

"No..I'm sorry." you sighed, rubbing your eyes. "I'm sorry I let these walkers out. They almost got you." 

"'s fine. They didn't eat me." 

"They could've got me though. Almost did. If you weren't there to save me.." You've looked over your shoulder, seeing Daryl gaze at you intensely. "I was an ass to you. Even after you saved me. I feel stupid." 

"Stop it." he mumbled out, looking away from you. "It's nothin'." 

You glanced at him for a moment before eventually facing away from him again. 

Few moments have passed in silence when you finally found the right words to say. 

"Thank you Daryl..I guess you are a good guy." 

"...Go to sleep. Ya need to rest." 

You briefly glanced back at him but only saw his sleepy face. He looked really peaceful and calm. You let your mind wonder for a moment before you eventually turn around. 

Eventually you let yourself close your eyes and start to fall back to sleep, when you've heard Daryl move around on his side. Before you could turn around and see what he's up to, you've felt his hand gently touch strands of your hair. You tried not to let him know that you're not asleep still but didn't want to ruin your first nice moment between you and Daryl Dixon. 

If you want to be added to my taglist just dm me!

[twdeadlysins]

coming soon

here is a list of pieces i am or will be working on in no particular order.  some have titles and summaries. things are subject to change. 

UPDATED: (05/03/2021)

request = ☆ wip = ✎ sequel = ✚ series = ☼ mini series = ♡ my idea = ♔

criminal minds

☆ derek morgan x penelope garcia x reader // if you do would you do a Derek Morgan x Penelope Garcia x Reader where the reader has a bad day and gets hurt and the team finds out that they’re all together and it ends fluffy lovey? 

☆ emily prentiss x adopted!daughter reader // Hi, could you please write an angsty/fluff Emily Prentiss x reader where the reader is her adopted daughter and is having nightmares about losing her mom and is worried about telling Emily because she doesn't want to look weak an be sent back to the system because of it? thanks. 

☆ hotch x teen!reader // hey! i know you're working on a lot rn, but i was wondering if you'd take a request for a hotch x teen!reader? something where maybe the team is trying to interrogate her for information on an unsub but she isn't helping much, until hotch profiles and realizes that it's because she's being abused at home? so then he's the one that's get thought to her (bc he understands bc of his own past)? if you can't or don't want to write it that's totally alright!!

the 100 

✎ ☆ bellamy blake x reader // Hey, if you're still getting a request, Can I have a request? For Season 5, Bellamy and the reader are married and when they come to the world, Mccreary and Diosa Abby and Kane take the reader with them. Mccreary threatens and harasses the reader by harming his friends (like Raven). After a while, the reader manages to escape. When the reader returns, Bellamy finds her bruised, withdrawn, having bad dreams. Then something happens and the reader tells them to cry. Angst, fluff and maybe smut. 😘

the walking dead

✚✎ dixon x reader // i’m not alone (part two) ✚✎ daryl dixon x reader // wildflowers (sequel to despair)

☆ daryl dixon x reader // title: no matter what // summary: when daryl begins to act abnormal, especially towards you, you decide to confront him about it.

☆ daryl dixon x reader // title: calm // summary:  daryl is having nightmares from his stay with the Saviors, and you’re there to help him.

☆ daryl dixon x reader // title: abandoned // summary: daryl left you heartbroken when he chose to be with his brother instead of you and the group. when he comes back during all the chaos, you’re forced to face him and make a decision. 

☆ daryl dixon x reader // title: i miss him too // summary: after you’re reunited with daryl, you tend to the wounds he received when he was a prisoner. you expected him to be scarred from the experience, but you didn’t think he blamed himself for your best friend’s death.

☆ daryl dixon x reader // title: breathe // summary:  a panic attack occurs after you have a vivid nightmare. daryl is right by your side to coach you through it and comfort you. 

☆ daryl dixon x reader // title: right here // summary: the reader is in labor and is terrified, so she asks daryl, the father of her child, for a simple favor.

☆ daryl dixon x reader // title: a new beginning // summary: you and daryl have known each other since you were kids and survived through the abuse you encountered. now you have to survive in a world infested by walkers. when feelings are confessed one night, you share an intimate moment on the farm that is the first for both of you.

☆ daryl dixon x reader // title: safe and sound // summary: you hear daryl crying in his trailer, so you decide to check on him

☆ daryl dixon x adopted daughter!reader // #12 “Are you okay?”,  #13 “Who did this?”, #6 “No one’s going to hurt you.” & #5 “You’re safe now.” - Daryl goes on a run and found an injured reader (M/F). He slowly puts his crossbow down, to show the reader that he means him/her no harm. He then slowly gets a little closer and says #12 & #13. When they don't answer, he moved a little closer. Scared, they moved away. "Hey, hey, hey. #6 #5." He tells them his name and they say theirs. He takes them to Alexandria and takes care of them. The reader could be his adoptive son or daughter.

☆ daryl dixon x single mom!reader // can you please do a Daryl Dixon x female reader. Like the reader is a new person to the prison that Maggie and Glenn brought back with them from a run. The reader has a son and daughter, (u pick the ages) from a previous marriage and Daryl watches her from a far, falling for her. They go on a run and have to hold up for a while (u pick, storm or herd of Walkers) and Daryl finally admits his feeling to the reader. SMUT in the end.

☆ daryl dixon x reader // sparring with daryl (like aaron and jesus in s9)

☆ daryl dixon x reader // daryl stops you from chewing on your fingers all the time

☆ daryl dixon x reader // giving daryl a goodbye letter 

☆ daryl dixon x reader // there is a blizzard and you don’t come back, causing daryl to freak out, but he can’t go out and search for you. Despite how much he loves you and willingly he’d die for you, it would be impossible to find you. You come back a few days/weeks later with a grin on your face.

☆ daryl dixon x reader // you are a savior that’s brave and tough, but keeps to herself. You don’t have friends and are kinda isolated. It’s not that anyone’s mean to you, but they remain at a distant. Over time it starts to hurt

☆ daryl dixon x reader // you feel ignored, feeling like they don’t love you anymore

☆ daryl dixon x reader // Hello !!! Can I have Daryl x reader? Reader has been so caught up in her work that they forget to eat. They get extremely lightheaded and stumble a little. Daryl steadies them and he is worried when he finds out they forgot to eat. While he is making food they faint and land (luckily) on something soft. When he's done, he comes back,at first he thinks that they're just laying down but he kinda freaks out when he realizes that reader is unconscious. ( I forget to eat sometimes) THANK YOU🥺💚

☆ daryl dixon x reader // Hey! I love love LOVE your work and I was hoping you could do a Daryl x reader based on the song “Strawberries and Cigarettes” by Troye Sivan? If you do, thank you so much!! Love your work!  

☆ rick grimes x reader // Hi! Could you please write Rick Grimes x Reader with prompt “Listen to me very closely! You. Are. An. Idiot.”. Where Rick does something reckless and his wife Y/n has to remind him that he can't do dangerous stuff like that because he has family to come back to. Thank you ❤️

♔ ☼ rick grimes x oc  // title: outsider // summary: coming soon; trust me, it’s gonna be GOOD 

☆ unknown pairing x reader // Hi I Seen Your rules I Was wondering can I Send A Request Where Fem Reader Is The Last WereWolf and saves Glenn and Abraham From Getting Killed by Negan. You Can Decline If You don't want to do it it's no problem :) 

marvel 

♡ ☆ bucky barnes x reader // you had to fight to survive everyday with a group of strangers who over the years became your family. when things go awry, you’re transported into another universe where superheroes exist. how will you adapt to a new world without walkers, but most importantly, your family? // crossover with the walking dead

♔ bucky barnes x reader // “that is a staggering amount of parmesan cheese.” “there’s no such thing.”

♔ steve rogers x reader // “my shield is glowing. why is my shield glowing?”

✎ ♔ steve rogers x reader // title: expensive escape // summary: steve gets an unexpected phone call from bucky and y/n 

♔ thor x reader // “that’s definitely not true.” “of course it is. i read it on wikipedia.”

bbc sherlock 

♔ sherlock holmes x reader // “will you be quiet!?” “i didn’t say anything!” “well stop thinking so loud!”

♔ sherlock holmes x reader //  “stop that!” “stop what?” “doing that thing with your face when you’re happy. it’s making me nauseous.”

miscellaneous 

✎ ☆ sherlock holmes x reader x stephen strange // title: double the strange // hey, I hope your requests are open! i was yearning for some strange x sherlock x reader where the smart arses were attempting to one-up each other to win said reader's favour? thank you x

[twdmusicboxmystery]

Predictions and Musings for 10b (Mostly Musings ;D)

Okay, let’s talk predictions. The big question everyone is asking is whether I think we’ll see Beth in 10x10, or, more broadly, when I think we’ll see her.

I’m not willing to rule out that we’ll see her in 10x10. If we do, I think it will be minimal. Like an after-the-credits scene where only the audience sees her, but none of the characters do. That said, as we head into 10b I’m feeling more and more like she won’t actually surface until the season finale. Again, not ruling out 10x10, and I’d be happy to be wrong. But that’s not my strong, gut feeling either.

I’ll explain why. And I’m going to frame this post in terms of clocks. We’ll talk about the clock in Edwards’ office in 5x08, the 10:16 clock in 7x08, and how I see the rest of the season playing out.

Let’s start 7x08. I’m not sure how me and my fellow theorists even got started on this, but we’ve been discussing it for the past week or two. It may just have been that someone (it really wasn’t me) remembered the clock.

So here’s the thing: when Daryl escapes the Sanctuary in 7x08, he runs into Dwight’s room after a vat of pickles spills in front of him. He hides there for a time before escaping. Behind him, when he runs down to the corridor is a clock that read 10:16. Now, during s8, most of us were still hoping Beth would appear sometime during or near the end of All Out War, so we weren’t seriously considering S10 for her reappearance at that time. So we weren’t sure what the clock represented.

Now, as we’re in S10, and we’ve had all these ridiculous clues that she’s about to reappear, the 10:16 clock becomes really interesting. Because 10x16 will be the season finale of this season.

Remember that in this scene, when Daryl goes into Dwight’s room, there’s a ridiculous amount of Beth symbolism. He eats peanut-butter, he looks at the chess pieces, several of which are reminiscent of Grady, there are fish on the wall (water), we see his scars, etc. And of course this is him escaping his imprisonment, which has heavy parallels to Beth being imprisoned at Grady. So everything about this scene screamed Beth.

But let’s talk specifically about what happens in front of the 10:16 clock. Daryl is trying to escape and some Saviors who are evidently handling food supplies drop a glass jar of pickles and it breaks, spilling across the corridor. That’s why Daryl runs into Dwight’s room. These Saviors talk about cleaning it up and he doesn’t want to be seen. He waits until they’re done cleaning up the mess and the corridor is empty again before making a break for it.

So, do you remember what’s up with pickles? Via the St. Nicholas/Pickle story (X, X, X) there should be three resurrections at some point. Daryl’s “I Never” line in Still about Santa Clause probably points to this. What Santa Clause/St. Nicholas will bring him is a resurrected Beth. 

(We also had a big emphasis on pickles during S7 via Eugene.)

But the myth says that St. Nick resurrected not one, but three boys/children/people depending on the version. I’ve theorized that the three resurrections will be the three remaining death fake out couples. (Glenn is dead for real, so not him.) I think the resurrections will be Beth, Rick, and Ezekiel. We haven’t seen Ezekiel’s death fake out yet, but I still think we will. And per Jerry’s shoe thing in 10x09, I think he’ll be involved.

Do all three resurrections have to happen simultaneously? I don’t think they HAVE to, but they COULD. And given that there’s a good chance that Beth and Rick are in the same place (helicopter people) I think there’s a good chance they will.

But the point here is that Daryl sees the pickles in front of the 10:16 clock. The way I’m interpreting that is that St. Nicholas will bring Daryl his gift at least in episode 10x16. So that’s why I think it’s less likely that we’ll see actually see her in 10x10.

Also, @wdway​ found something interesting in Slabtown that may support this:

“This is the scene where Beth has just come from Dawn's office and she is stopped in the hall by Dawn. It's always been strange about how this number was featured. I also want to point out the envelope type hang on the door if you enlarge it you can see that it's a pink (Pink Theory)…. Back to the number 5+5+6=16. So we have a 16 there's no true way of knowing if it's directed to this episode 16 or not.

Let's play around with what 16 and what these numbers in TWD world might look like as far as episodes. In s5e16 Conquer. In s5 series episode 56 was Self-Help. (Both very Beth-centric symbolism episodes.) Looking at 16, series number 16 was s2e10, 18 Miles Out (Beth’s suicide attempt). S1e6 was TS-19, the episode where TF was at the CDC eventually blew it up. (For this reference, see @angelthefirst1’s meta HERE.) By the way in the little library in the facility during a scene with Lori and Shane there is a 10-10 clock in the bookcase.”

But what does that mean for 10x10?

Well, let’s talk about the clock in Edwards’ office in 5x07. We’ve never done a very convincing job of figuring out what this clock points to. The hour hand points to the 10 while the minute hand points to the 8. Again, back in S5, we were definitely NOT thinking this pointed to S10. So there’s that. But even if we do so now, it seems to point to 10x08, the MSF. And MAYBE that’s a thing. I think there’s one way it could be, but overall it’s not terribly convincing. More on that in a minute.

But here’s the thing:

I actually think this clock may point to episode 10x10. Let me explain why. Warning: it involves math.

Due to Jesus’ death, we figured out that an hour represents a season as a whole, rather than the individual numbers pointing to episodes. That doesn’t work as there are only 12 numbers and 16 episodes. We saw the 9:30 clock behind Jesus and Carl in S7 and Jesus died in 9x08, which was exactly half-way through the hour/season. So I got out my trusty calculator and did some math. I tried this several different way and WAY over complicated it for myself. The easiest way to do it is this:

If you divide 1 hour 16 ways (by 16 episodes) each episode would be represented by 3.75 minutes. So if they want to point to something in episode 8, they would do 3.75 minutes multiplied by 8 episodes and you get 30. So they would point the minute hand of the clock toward 30 minutes (as they did with Jesus) to represent something happening in the MSF (episode 8). I hope that makes sense.

If you’re a visual person, check out this pie chart. If the minute hand is pointed at the 8 (40 minutes) then you divide that by 3.75 minutes for each episode, and you get roughly 10. Now, it’s not exact. It should be pointed at 37.5 minutes rather than 40. And honestly, it might be. This clock is very blurry because it’s in the background, and it may point to slightly before the 8. It’s just too hard to tell for sure.

Hence, I think this clock points to 10x10.

Now, anyone who reads @frangipanilove​’s posts knows her theory is that the 10x10 clock actually points to 10x11 for various reasons. (Read HERE). And I can totally get behind that. I don’t know how it will all play out but she’s got some amazing evidence and it won’t bother me at all if this is actually pointing to ep 11 rather than 10. What she and I have kind of settled on is that both episodes (10 and 11) are sure to be super-important.

Different clocks truly do need to be interpreted different ways. For example, the 10:16 I mentioned above. Applying the number system I laid out above to it doesn’t produce anything specific. So I really think that clock, which reads a time of 10:16, literally points to episode 10x16. For the 10:10 clock, this system KIND of works. It obviously wouldn’t point to 10x10, but it would be 10x02 or 10x03. Both those episodes had lots of TD symbolism in them, but nothing much beyond that. But of course 10x02 plays into your 2 and 11 theories, and the fact that 2x10 was 18 Miles Out.

And then there’s THIS POST about how the time 10:10 on a clock has historically represented when certain famous assassinations happened. So, it’s possible we shouldn’t be reading into the numbers on this clock at all.

I can totally see tptb using different systems for different clocks, specifically to throw us off and make the symbolism insanely hard to interpret.

But what will be in episode 10 and/or 11?

Obviously this is all speculation, but let’s return to this scene in 5x07 and some things I’ve mentioned earlier in the week. Beth goes into Edwards’ office to ask what medicine she needs to give Carol to save her. He tells her, and then she walks into the dark tunnel/hallway. They also talk about Beth having the “key” to the drug locker.

So I’m thinking what we’ll get in 10x10 or 10x11 is the “key” to where Beth is and it will have a lot to do with healing. Part of it is healing Carol. (I’ll talk more about Carol tomorrow because there’s a LOT going on with her right now and it ties directly into Beth’s return.) But I know a lot of people have theories that Beth will bring a cure for the zombie virus as well. I don’t harp on that overly much, but I think it’s a real possibility, especially with what we know of the helicopter people and them purifying water. So this scene in Edwards’ office was a direct foreshadow of when/how/in what manner Beth will return.

For me, I think it will be directly tied to Connie. I’ve been saying since the beginning of the season that 1) Connie would get a death fake out. We’ll have to wait and see what Daryl finds, but I think this episode was the beginning of Connie’s death fake out. I think he’ll either not find her and Magna at all (just gone) or else maybe he’ll find blood and her sling shot or something else that makes him think she’s dead. Eaten by walkers. So I think he’ll believe she’s dead and for him it will be a major replay of Beth’s death.

So if anything along those lines happens, I think that in episode 10/11 he’ll find out that she’s alive and where she is. You know how I keep saying he and Carol will jump on his bike and go look for someone, and I’ve said I think it will be Connie? Yeah, it’s really kinda happening that way, guys. I can’t say for sure they’ll go on his bike, but much like back in S5, they’ll leave together to go find someone who’s (most likely) been taken hostage by another group. In S5 it was Beth. Here, it will be Connie. And we’ve solved the problem of why Carol would go with Daryl: because the cave in was her fault and she has super-heavy guilt over it.

And I think Connie will end up where Beth is in some way and will help bring Beth back to Daryl, fulfilling the symbolism from 10x01 where she brought Dog to him on the beach. So I’m thinking we’ll learn Connie’s whereabouts in ep 10/11 and while it won’t be about Beth in an obvious way, it will lead to her. And maybe Daryl will finally come face to face with Beth in 10x16. That’s what I’m hoping for, anyway. But again, these are just predictions and could prove to be wrong.

More random-but-compelling evidence for 10x16? This also from @wdway​:

“While I was looking at all this from I remembered something that I played around with a while back and I even mentioned it I think to you guys but now that it's closer to us it might mean more. At the end of the episode Coda we have the fire truck and that number on the side the 82. Coda series number = 59. 82+59= 141. S10e10 will be series number 141.”

This may not entirely fit into what I said above, but maybe we’ll learn what happened to the fire truck, or just what happened during the missing 17 days, in episode 10x10? No idea. Just a thought.

This is more general, but in terms of episode structure, consider this: Beth disappeared in ep 8 and the music box woke up in ep 10. I know Connie won’t technically disappear until ep 9 but the catastrophe leading to it happened in ep 8 and Beth was technically in 5x09. So having Connie “show up” again in some capacity in ep 10 makes sense. Just saying.

One more note: given that we are already experiencing a death fake out for Connie, and that I think she’ll end up where Beth is, and by extension, where Rick is, it has occurred to me that she might be the third pickle resurrection, rather than Ezekiel.

Maybe.

Overall, I still lean toward Ezekiel. Why? Well, mostly because he’s one of the four death fake out couples. And while I love Connie, she’s not AS mainstream a character as Ezekiel. I don’t think she’s had enough time on the show, enough depth of character to qualify as the 3rd pickle resurrection. But I also mentioned Jerry because of the shoe thing in this episode. And of course Heath and Jadis/Anne are still missing as well. So there might be several minor character returns that go along with the three big ones. But I still think overall the big ones will be Beth, Rick and Ezekiel. We’ll just have to wait and see.

Okay, other predictions.

Episode 14:

As I said, I’ll talk more about how Carol fits into all of this tomorrow, and there are a lot of ties, but here are some basic speculations about 10x14.

We know people often die in episode 14 of a season. (4x14: Mika and Lizzie; 5x14: Noah; 6x14: Denise, etc.) Some of my fellow theorists have thought for some time that Father Gabriel will die before Beth returns.

Why? Because he’s the embodiment of the Sirius symbol.

Okay, this becomes a really interesting discussion about the Sirius symbolism and the characters who embody it. Remember the Sirius symbolism has to do with dogs, stars, and having only one eye. I can’t think of a character who embodied the Sirius symbolism in 5b, after Beth was shot. Noah, perhaps. Honestly, nothing about him screams Sirius to me. Other things to do with Beth symbolism? Yes. But Sirius, not so much. Although there is that shot of him looking at the blue dog collar in Them after they eat the wild dogs.

In S6, Denise showed up. She had both eyes, but there was a motif about her glasses and her being kinda blind. Not to mention, she died by being shot through the eye.Though she didn’t died BEFORE Carl lost his eye, she died soon after. She also saved his life. 

At that point, Carl, with his one eye and many ties to Beth, becomes something of a Sirius embodiment.

In S8, Carl dies. And right about that same time, Father Gabriel loses his sight in one eye, in an episode that ALL kinds of callbacks to Still, Alone, and Coda. Since then, he’s been the embodiment of the Sirius symbolism.

See why we suspect he might die before or right around the time Beth reappears? 

It’s also interesting to note that he was perhaps the last one to speak her name. He talked to Maggie about her in Them, and while we saw Beth in Sasha’s flashback in that, and since then in the portraits hanging at Hilltop over Maggie’s desk, no one has actually said Beth’s name since FG did in Them.

In other words, the last person to have spoken Beth’s name is now the embodiment of the Sirius symbolism.

Other stuff on episode 14:

It’s important to note that we don’t KNOW any of this stuff about episode 14. People in the fandom are simply speculating on it. We know there will be an episode entitled “Look at the Flowers” and given that that phrase was so heavily emphasized in 4x14 with the girls, it would make sense for it to be the title of 10x14.

This from @wdway​:

“People have been speculating for the last couple of months that episode 14 will be the episode at the hospital that was used in Slabtown. We also have had sightings of the King in the city which makes people think it might have to do with the story line that has been set up with his thyroid condition.

I want to show you a shot that's taken from earlier this season where the king is on the Hilltop radio waiting for Carol to come and he's going to tell her about his condition but before she gets to the radio he stops and leaves. This is a shot of the radio.

Look up the number at the top the very top one is 145. Now we know that the comic book issue of 45 is when Andrea wakes up from being shot in the head. And here's the radio set at channel 145 and the King is about to talk to Carol and it's concerning a medical issue. You probably know what I'm about to say serie number 145 will be S10e14.”

To me, this also backs up the idea of Ezekiel’s death fake out. The 145 ties directly to Andrea’s death fake out in the comic books.

I’ll end there. I think I’ve rambled enough for one day.

Disclaimer: I wrote this over a week ago, before Ep 9 even aired. So yes, I know that due to spoilers, some of the stuff I’ve written above is already invalid. For example, it doesn’t look like we’ll see Connie in 10x10 or find out anything about the missing 17 days.

I didn’t want to change anything in this post, partly because I’m lazy 😋 and partly because, as far as these being possibilities we’re considering, they’re still valid, even if they don’t happen in this coming episodes. Just think of them as food for thought.

So, thoughts?  😉

[txladyj-blog]

Chapter 9 - This Time Around

a Daryl Dixon x OFC collaboration written by @xmistressmistrustx​

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character

Tags: Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Awkwardness, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Crush, Fluff and Humor, Angst and Humor, Mild Smut, Strong Language, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Some Canon Scenes and Dialogue

Chapters 23/?

It was Daryl’s fourth hour of sweeping apartment blocks in the city. Everyone at the prison urged him to stay put, they needed him, one of their most competent and brave fighters, but his stubborn streak had prevailed and he set off for the city regardless. As he moved from one building to another, he collected any useful supplies he could carry, figuring if he could at least return to the group with some kind of offering it might count for something. He didn’t hesitate long in one place; he was aware that he needed to be with his group but a big part of him wanted to find Jess. He’d planned it all out in his head, what he would say, how he would convince her to go back with him. But first, he’d ask her what her bullshit note was about. The same note that he carried everywhere with him, burning a hole in his pocket like it was made of the cinders of his fury at her departure.

He knew when he’d found it. Stacks of books everywhere, some with wooden planks across them to make tables, graphic novels, hunting guides and medical textbooks. A balcony that was once full of flourishing herbs and fruits now torn down and scattered through the open door onto the carpet. At first glance, it could have belonged to any number of lone survivors in a city as large as Atlanta. But he knew Jess had been there when he saw the pile of neatly folded T-shirts on the arm of the couch. It was the one thing that hadn’t been torn asunder by whatever had transpired before he’d arrived. There was no sign of her now and the dried blood smeared across the interior, in particular the carpet, had darkened and started to crisp, telling him that he was at least a few days too late.

After a frantic search of every corner and his hope of footprints leading somewhere being dashed, he dropped onto the couch and leaned forwards with his elbows on his knees. His mind cast into a detailed flashback of everything that happened at the quarry and guilt gnawed in the background. He thought of her note. Who was she to tell him how he saw her? Where did she get such an idea? He’d tried to make amends and show her that the announcement of the contents of her journal didn’t matter to him. He’d tried and she still left. It bubbled under the surface, that same rage he’d endured when he first realized that she really was gone. Now, he was risking being absent at a time when his group needed him because for some reason, he couldn’t just let her go.

He lashed out, sweeping the entire contents of the coffee table across the room. Candles, empty tins and glasses collided with the wall and sent a spiraling, noisy commotion through the walls of the building and down the staircase. He watched the items from the table scatter and still felt no relief. She was gone, possibly for good. His one and only lead had come up with nothing.

                                    =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

 She dreamed of ice, licking at her toes and fingertips and creeping into her bones through sensitive skin. It was all around her, every inch of her tainted by it’s freezing embrace as she thrashed and gasped for air, her breath a white cloud expelling from her weakening body. Her heart, which felt ten times the size it should have been, compressed and struggled in her chest. She shuddered and tried to call out, tried to scream but nothing emerged on the useless huff of air that was all she could manage. Her eyes flew open. Where was she? Was she safe? Why was it so cold?

“Oh…Jesus.” She breathed as she tried to catch her breath, her freezing cold hand resting on her chest and her dream slowly drifting away, most of it anyway.

Her eyes moved up to a window. The Boat. She was in the bedroom on the boat and it was so cold she thought she might freeze to death. The inside of the glass was coated in condensation from the minimal amount of warmth that her body had given off as she slept. She drew the blankets around her and shuffled from the mattress, her socks slipping on the shiny floor. She lifted a hand and rubbed at the window with her fingertips. So cold were they that she couldn’t even feel the damp surface through the numbness in her limbs. She squinted out at the water, unsure if her eyes were playing tricks on her.

“Shit.” She hissed.

Outside on the deck, she stood with her boots on but unlaced, a thick sweater and the blankets from the bed wrapped around her. Unimpressed and irritated by the sight, she sighed slowly, rubbing her hand over her sleepy eyes and brushing her dark hair back from her face. The boat was a safe, albeit unusual choice for a sanctuary during the apocalypse but Jess found it to be everything she wanted. She was far from the shoreline which meant any Walkers or humans had to cross a lot of water to be able to get to her and her weapon-filled, floating fortress. On the roof of the cabin, she grew crops which she moved inside when she noticed the season taking a turn. Now they took up residence in a spare room inside, encouraged by an infra-red light, powered by a small generator which still had enough juice to be switched on for an hour or so every day.

She learned how to fish, catching her meals easily most days after conducting an experiment with a stray dog on the beach that proved the life in the lake was untouched by whatever had turned the human race. The boat was quite the picturesque scene, peaceful and still luxurious even given the situation. But heat was becoming an issue and no number of candles could change the fact that her route to the land was now covered with ice, rendering her unable to fish and eat for the foreseeable future. As far as she could see, the layer stretched from the boat to the shore, the edge of it bumping against the boats hull beneath her feet.

She rolled her eyes and vanished inside, immediately setting about packing her things in order to move on yet again. She told herself she would return once the weather was better and had no plans to move out completely, she kept the key to the cabin in her pocket and eventually climbed into the canoe which split the ice around it into jagged pieces from the movement of the water underneath. With her machete, she smashed at the cold surface between rowing. It was a painfully slow process that left her frustrated and sweating despite the below zero temperature but progress was progress and as she neared the beach, she began to feel a sense of achievement. She climbed out of the boat and onto the jetty, rolling onto her back and cursing under her breath, her machete clattered onto the wooden landing.

It was a peaceful couple of months living on the boat but Jess was smart enough to make sure that she never became complacent or lured into a false sense of security. The world was still full of threats, people that ate people if they were alive or dead. The living reduced to the depths of depravity, stealing, murdering, raping, looting. She’d seen near enough all of it in less than a year of being on the road alone. Death was always part of life, but not in the way Jess had now been witness to and sometimes when it came to a matter of them and her, she’d been forced to commit acts that she didn’t even know she was capable of. After the initial horrendous guilt, she’d been forced to carry on and survive, just like every other person that remained walking the earth with a brain that hadn’t been reanimated.

Being a nomad after leaving the boat was the toughest thing she’d experienced yet. The cold was biting, destructive and relentless and her movement was restricted when defending herself due to her layers of clothing that were needed to shield her against the bitter winds. She hid in frozen ditches for convoys to pass with trucks full of screaming people, their leaders decorated in war paint as If it gave them any more rights than anyone else. She fought off wildlife, ran from Bears and Coyotes and found Deer harder to hunt than they had ever been before. But still, she persevered and soldiered on with a strength and determination that was now cemented in her being. By that point, she knew she was no quitter.

                                     =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

A fairground wouldn’t have been her first choice of homestead but the discovery, one crisp morning after sleeping in a tree, of a small building in the corner between the Ferris wheel and Haunted House piqued her interest enough to draw her inside. The structure was solid enough, protected from the wind by the carcasses of rides around it. A broken sign above the door read ‘Casey’s Diner.’ Jess thought it was the smallest diner she’d ever seen, but once she’d kicked the door in and checked the inside for any dangers, she found it to be quaint and full of potential. She ran her fingertips along the tables and chairs as she walked through the seating area, even the black and red tiled walls were an aesthetic she could live with. The tables could all be removed in favor of more useful furniture that she could find almost anywhere. There was a long counter in the middle that opened up into an open-plan kitchen, some of which could still be used if she could only find a generator big enough to power it. The windows were thick, the outside fitted with bars to deter those wanting to take up residence or rob the place out of season.

Handy. She thought.

Stepping back outside into the cold, she surveyed the area. The wind whistled through the rusting metal of the rides, signs flapped in the breeze and the fence enclosing the small fairground itself needed repairs in certain places, the most important being the main gate, which Jess had managed to unlock using a small pair of bolt cutters from her backpack. She could work with it, the effort it would need not deterring her in the slightest. She needed shelter before it started to snow and the disused diner would have to do.

It wasn’t easy to find the materials she needed to make the necessary repairs to the fence and fortify the building. She walked for miles to and from the next town, having to use her conserved energy to hack Walkers to death and shoot them with arrows until she was left with a mere two hours of daylight to get a huge, heavy bag of supplies back to the fairground. She may have found what she needed but her fingers were raw from making snare traps in the area around the fences to ensnare small animals for food. Her joints ached from hauling the old furniture out and hacking it all to pieces. Finding a truck with gas left in it parked on the dirt track of a farm was just the stroke of luck she needed. A generator awaited her in the barn, the only issue was how to remove the solar panels that fueled it from the roof.

                                     =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= 

Jess’s senses were more than heightened from being on her own for so long and having to be mindful of any threats so as not to become Walker food. Sounds such as snapping twigs and scuffing on the ground alerted her immediately and within seconds, she was alert, bow readied and eyes carefully scanning her surroundings. It was the sound of breathing on this occasion while she stood in the barn trying to figure out how to get the huge generator out and onto the truck, along with the panels, she had no idea where to start. She pulled the string of her bow tight and straightened her back.

“I know you’re there.” She called out. “Make yourself known or I’ll be forced to find you and kill you.”

The barn was piled high with hay bales, a tractor stood to one side and wooden posts obscured her view of the entrance she’d wandered through, dead set on fetching her generator. There was no way she was about to let anyone else take it. Finders keepers, that’s how she saw it. She’d never robbed anyone or felt the need to when supplies were around, they just took a little patience to find.

She spotted boots on the other side of the tractor, moving past it’s massive wheels and wading through hay dropped from the bales on either side. She aimed as a man stepped into view. His hands were up in surrender, he wore a clean, blue and white flannel shirt with a black wax jacket, his hair was cut and tidy, his skin bore no signs of dirt or injury. He held no visible weapons and on his back he carried something else spotless, a tan backpack.

Jess never went anywhere without her mask and hood, they provided her with extra warmth as well an anonymity to anyone she may meet on her travels. She was now a solitary roamer with no desire to connect with anyone or bear the burden of having to take care of someone else. She peered at the man over the top of her mask, which obscured her nose and mouth, showing only her eyes. She quickly swept one leg back, moving into a defensive stance and lined her aim up with the center of his head.

“Who are you?” she demanded firmly.

“My name is Aaron. I come from a community nearby.” He explained. His tone was calm but Jess could sense the underlying anxiety that came with confronting strangers in the new world. Everyone possessed it, it was just more obvious in some than others.

“Backup.” She spat, jutting her bow at him. He jumped in surprise and held his hands up higher. “This is my generator. I found it first.”

Aaron’s eyebrows raised at her intent to take the generator. It was obvious to him that it was all she cared about, aside from not being killed.

“Fair enough. I don’t need one anyway. I just came to talk to you.” He told her.

She glared at him, trying to read him, to figure out what intentions he could possibly have being so squeaky clean and turning up out of the blue for a conversation. It didn’t add up and she didn’t trust him from the moment she heard his breathing from the other side of the barn. She didn’t want to have to kill another living human and so hoped that distraction techniques and words would provide her with enough time to figure out an alternative.

“You expect me to believe that you cornered me in a barn for a conversation?” She asked

“Uh…I know how strange that must seem.” He smiled.

“Hm.” She grunted. It did seem strange, just like everything else about him. His eyes may have looked kind enough, but she had seen all this before. The wolf in sheep’s clothing. She kept a firm grip on her bow. “So talk.” She instructed. “Or I’ll shoot you in the face.”

A kill count wasn’t something Jess ever wanted to have. But it was inevitable for her to have survived so long into what was now a rotting world full of death. She wasn’t yet in double figures, or so she thought. Who knows how many of the people she’d shot in the legs had failed to escape the clutches of an oncoming herd or a hungry, lone Walker in a small space and succumbed to the turn? She couldn’t dwell on it or more of her soul would fall away. She didn’t cry about it anymore. In fact, she hadn’t cried in months, unable to remember the last time. Maybe she was just numb and that wasn’t good. But it didn’t mean she wasn’t prepared to execute another person in order to protect herself.

 “I’ve been watching you. You’re very resourceful and handy with that bow.” Aaron explained with his hands still held aloft. “We could use someone like you. We have a lot to offer. Houses, electricity, hot, running water, medical care…walls and-”

“-Cannibals.” She interrupted loudly. Aaron blinked at her in surprise. “You must be cannibals if you have all that.”

His hands began to lower again as he used them to enhance his argument. He stepped closer but she nudged her head up in warning.

Stay there or I will shoot you between the eyes.

“No.” He protested. “I can assure you. We have food, but we’re not cannibals. Please, lower your weapon. I’m not a threat to you.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m a threat to you.” She warned boldly. “Hold your hands out in front of you so I can see ‘em clearer.”

Doing as he was asked, she couldn’t ignore the puzzled look on his face as she inched closer and observed his empty hands as he held them out, palms down and trembling slightly. He flinched when she suddenly stooped down and collected a small rock from the ground and threw it to him.

“Catch”

He caught the rock effortlessly, still baffled by her behavior and concerned that she may be a little more unhinged than he’d anticipated when he’d observed her fixing fences and hauling tables and chairs around while singing quietly to herself at the fairground. He was impressed by her resourcefulness and skills after finding various traps around the fences that could prove almost lethal to anyone that happened to stumble into them.

“What are-”

“-Kuru. Creutzfeldt-Jakob Disease. Prion Disease. Whatever you want to call it. Cannibals have tremors and difficulty grasping things. Slower reactions and poor coordination. Among other symptoms. Its incubation period is usually ten years but with food scarce and dumb folk all over the place, people eating people on the daily is common enough to speed up the process”

“That’s…Interesting.” Aaron offered, mildly concerned by her detailed knowledge.  

“Not as interesting as the tremor in your hands.” She shot back, seeing him tilt his head back slightly, a look of worry creeping across his features.

“Forgive me, but I am on the business end of an arrow right now. If I were you, I’d be worried if my hands weren’t trembling.”

Jess huffed with amusement. She couldn’t deny that he had a point and it was delivered a thin lacing of sass.

You’re a funny fucker, aren’t you?

“You’re a smartass too.” She declared.

Aaron finally smiled and laughed. Jess lowered her bow subtly but not enough for him to notice. She wasn’t naïve enough to let him win her trust that easily and so keeping something sharp and pointed aimed his way seemed like a wise course of action, no matter how charming and polite he appeared.

“I was just going to say that about you. Just, in my head. Not out loud. I kind of still like being alive.” He grinned “So, did I pass the test?”

She went back over their conversation in her head. A community nearby, food, water, walls, medical supplies. Even if it was true, it was something she no longer wanted. She was better alone. Safer, cunning, clever. If only she could get that damn generator into the back of the truck. She raised an eyebrow at Aaron.

“So far.”

                                     =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

 Jess sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes, it was cold in the room but nowhere near as cold as the boat with nothing to break up the howling wind. She swung her legs from the wooden framed bed, taken from the same farm where she ran into the man called Aaron with the kind eyes and clean clothes. In her newly re-arranged kitchen, she prepared a breakfast of tinned sausages and beans, cooked in a pot on a stove that was powered by the generator Aaron had helped her get back to her new home.

She’d bargained with him; He helped her get her generator and she agreed to scope out the community of Alexandria from outside it’s walls, observing the operations, security and supply run teams from high up in a tree that gave her the perfect vantage point. It all seemed innocent enough, but Jess was still untrusting and guarded and eventually agreed to meet the leader of Alexandria on the promise that it was conducted away from the town and she was allowed to be fully armed.

It wasn’t easy to get through to Jess, but Deanna, the woman who made all the decisions for the community, was very convincing and it became apparent to Jess upon the arrival of a stray Walker where their meeting took place in the woods, that Deanna had not been outside of her community since before the world went wrong. Everything that was explained to her, she was able to corroborate and after weeks of surveillance, she took her first steps inside to meet the wary faces of the townsfolk.

Jess kept to herself and didn’t utter a word to anyone unless she had no other choice. Aaron stuck by her side at first, assuring people that she wasn’t a danger to them and when she began bringing back Deer and small game after the seasons switched again, people started to accept her as the mysterious bringer of sustenance and protector of the areas around the circumference of the walls. In return, Jess had access to medical supplies and a shower with hot, running water at Aaron’s house that he shared with his partner, Eric. She never once, let anyone see her face, going about her business in full protective clothing. 

Jess refused to move from the fairground. It was her home and the place that she felt most at ease. She didn’t have fences as large as Alexandria, but hers were sufficient and she knew every inch of them. Living away from everybody else meant she made no connections. No friends, just one or two acquaintances. She wanted to live a life without ties that could lead to more emotional trauma or put her at risk of getting killed. She had a deal with Alexandria, an understanding. On top of that, she also got her generator and solar panels which Aaron had helped to install along with the help of a man Jess didn’t know and didn’t need to know. All she cared about was him being able to make her stove work before she could send him back inside the walls.

Hunting was both a necessity and an enjoyable activity once the weather warmed and the mornings and evenings became lighter. If the Walker numbers were kept low within a mile radius, which was Jess’s job, animals ventured closer to Alexandria to forage and when they did, Jess nabbed them. Sometimes, she’d be out overnight, so engrossed in tracking and taking down something larger than a rabbit that she just couldn’t let it go. That was another good thing about being on the sidelines of a community, the gas for a vehicle. Journeying out further to relatively untouched patches of woodland turned up some great results, especially when she borrowed a hunting rifle from the armory.

Slinking through the trees early one morning with her rifle readied and her eyes cast down across the ground, she followed the tracks of what she thought could be a large deer. Its imprints were deep, suggesting it was somewhat hefty and the foliage it nibbled along the way provided her with the perfect path. She breathed quietly through her nose, kept her footsteps light and her hood up.

This is going to be a good one. She thought, excited at the prospect of her share.

Then, male voices caught her attention and she dived behind the nearest bush; her body locked into such a stillness that she thought her heart might stop beating.

“A bitch got you all messed up. Walking around here like a dead man. She must have been a good’un. Was it one of the little ones? They don’t last too long out here.” A man commented.

There was a scuffle but Jess couldn’t see from her current position. While the noises of scraping boots on the muddy floor went on, she twisted her body just enough to make out the scene through the leaves of her hiding place. She needed to know what she was dealing with if she was discovered.

Clamping a hand over her mouth was all she could do to stop herself from gasping loudly with shock. There, beyond the leaves and with a long-haired stranger in a brutal headlock, was Daryl Dixon. His face was twisted into a rage, sweat slick on his forehead as he used all his might to choke the man in his grip. She almost fell backwards and gave her location away when the man whirled out of Daryl’s arm and swung a punch which Daryl quickly avoided. As he ducked, Jess heard the unmistakable shing of a knife being unsheathed and Daryl lunged with the cold metal in his hand.

Her mind was blank. She had no idea what to do. If she should intervene or stay put. It was Daryl. He’d hurt her and she’d deliberately put what she’d thought were hundreds of miles between them, only for him to show up right in front of her in the woods. Still, she didn’t want to see him get killed.

As he neared the man with his knife raised, someone else arrived. An older, grey man with a much more relaxed attitude stepped in and broke up the fight which, as she learned from the shadows, was over who the dead rabbit on the ground belonged to.

He was different, angrier and war-worn but she didn’t get the same vibes from him that she got from the others, and there were more of them. A whole group of them travelling through the woods, she’d discovered. It wasn’t until she retreated further into the trees and decided to follow them that she could tell their intentions were worlds apart from Daryl’s.

The railway tracks were incredibly difficult to follow along without being seen, but she stayed in the tree line, her dark, camouflage and protective clothing aiding her in her disguise. From there, she could hear what was being said. She didn’t possess one ounce of trust in the men he was with and maybe it was because she was an outside observer, but she was shocked that Daryl didn’t seem to know that they were merely using him. Now, there was no way she was leaving. She followed on until they stopped outside an empty auto repairs place on a crossroads. For a moment, Daryl was left alone while the others checked the building.

It was tempting. Oh, so tempting to signal him from the trees and alert him to her presence. He struck a lonely figure as he stood in the road by himself. He looked older, his hair was longer and he still wore his angel wings on his back, only now they were fading and ripped. She was completely torn, half of her wanted to go to him but she was stopped by the memory of what he’d said to his brother. That she meant nothing to him. So, why would he even care if she was there or not? She stayed quiet and hidden, creeping up to a window when darkness fell and they took shelter inside. Carefully, by peeking through a corner of the window, she was able to look inside without being detected.

From the glass, she sighed and watched him sleep on a black piece of plastic while the others took up residence in cars. For the first time since she discovered him, she had the time to acknowledge how much she missed him. She was still hurt, heartbroken in fact by what she’d heard. But it was Daryl. Once her good friend and if she was totally honest, the person she’d thought about every day since she left the group. He still inspired her and try as she might, she couldn't shake the notion that she still found him to be incredibly attractive.

I might mean nothing to you. But, I’m here. I’m not leaving you with these jackasses.

She slept against the side of the auto repairs building, under the window and shrouded in leaves. Waking only when she heard an argument going on inside. On the verge of stepping in to prevent Daryl from being hurt by the mindless, violent, idiots he’d ended up with, she gripped her machete in her hand and started to think about how she was going to charge in and take on seven men when the aggression was suddenly diverted from Daryl to one of the other men. Jess sank back and breathed a deep huff of relief. She didn’t have to see him get hurt.

When the body of the man Daryl had fought with in the woods was dumped inches from her as they departed, she held her breath until she was sure none of them could hear her and set about following them further. She didn’t know why, but going back was not an option. She couldn’t leave him. Not with this group. Not now. There were too many risks.

They re-joined the railway tracks and Jess was able to silently move along at the back of the group where Joe, the grey-haired man who she gathered was the leader, talked to Daryl and offered him a drink from a hip flask. She saw him hesitate as she carefully climbed over logs and slithered through the trees at a pace that was tough to keep up without being too noisy. He shrugged a shoulder up and accepted.

“I ain’t been lit at dawn since before everything fell apart” He expressed.

Jess couldn’t help it. The way he spoke and his conversational tone coupled with a nonchalant shrug was so typical of him and it stung at her emotions. But at his honest comment, her face broke into a wide smile that she struggled to control. So wrapped up in how much she missed him, she failed to navigate around a large tree trunk and smacked into it, causing a rustle that Daryl heard over everyone else. He paused and Jess was sure he was looking right at her from the tracks as she hugged the tree and wished that she hadn’t just acted with the dexterity of a toddler running through the woods. Joe carried on while Daryl squinted into the dark trees and adjusted his crossbow. Her lungs began to burn, she didn’t want to breathe for fear of being noticed, her knees felt like they might cave in.

You really are a tracker.

After what seemed like hours, Daryl finally moved on, joining the rest of the men at a metal sign on the side of the tracks. They gathered around, talking in hushed tones that she couldn’t quite make out from her position. Then, Daryl stepped back, revealing the word at the top of the sign which made her blood run cold and her eyes well with tears. She knew exactly where they were headed and she had to do something to stop them.

TERMINUS.

NEXT CHAPTER

[distressedpanda]

Wild One (Daryl Dixon x OFC) Part 1

Setting: Early in the six year time jump of Season 9.

Warnings: Language, TWD blood and violence

A/N: I am planning to write this from both the OFC's point of view and Daryl's. It will be slightly out of character for him, but I am trying to catch the full spirit. I just think that if we could see inside Daryl's mind that he might actually think some of these things, he just doesn't act on them.

That's my view anyway. It doesn't have many warnings for now but that will change.

This fic will be updated every two weeks for now. Gets a read more for length. As always if you would like to be tagged just let me know. 

 Layla watched as the man and his dog moved around the camp by the water, setting up traps and stringing cans around the perimeter. She had been watching him for several weeks now. From her observations, she had discovered that he was a natural and gifted hunter and tracker. He had also trained the dog to be a guard of sorts, allowing him longer hours of rest.

If she was being completely honest with herself, she couldn't understand why she was still here. She had done this before, of course: observe, move on. Never stick around, never get close. The living could be far more dangerous than the dead. But something about this gruff, scruffy looking stranger, pulled her in and kept her hiding among the trees each day. A sense of familiarity drew her in like a moth to a flame, and she was beginning to fear that she would indeed get burned.

She only hunted for herself at night, or during the rare moments the man slept during the day. She hunted far enough out that her snares and traps would go unnoticed. Fishing much further down the water's edge as well.

About a week ago the dog had found her on one of these fishing trips. Climbing back up the bank, with her catch of three large bass, she stopped dead in her tracks at the snarl that was waiting for her on the bank. Cautiously she had taken one of the fish and laid it carefully on the ground at her feet. She took a few steps away, keeping her head bowed in reverence to the animal, but never breaking eye contact. The snarling stopped as the dog approached the freely offered meal, but as she prepped her remaining fish to be cooked, the dog watched her wearily as he ate.

After that, when she fished, the dog followed. He seemed to expect the meal, almost as though that was the price of him keeping her presence a secret. She had to admit she enjoyed his company, even if he wouldn't let her touch him.

Now standing on the limb, she pressed her thin frame more firmly against the side of the tree. Wearing a brown tank top, and black jeans, she knew she could easily blend into the shadows of the trees. Her wild brown waves blowing freely in the soft autumn breeze. It was still warm and even with the breeze, the autumn chill hadn't settled into the forest air during the day. She watched the man working expertly with the knife in his hand. Whittling at a long thick branch.

Daryl knew someone was watching him. He and Dog had followed the persons tracks several times, but they always seemed to vanish before he could find the person responsible for making them. They were good, he had to hand it to them. In all his years of tracking, he had never known anyone to be able to give him the slip with this consistency.

Because of this mysterious strangers presence, he had been overly cautious. Setting up more traps and alarms, to secure his camp. Unfortunately, all he seemed to be catching was the dead.

Today, he could feel them. The eyes boring into him, while he went about sharpening branches for his pits and stringing more cans. He subtly glanced around without drawing attention to the action. The stranger was much closer than usual. He could sense them.

Suddenly, he looked up through his long messy hair. “There ya are,” his voice more gravel than words.

She gasped softly, closing her eyes and hugging the tree tighter. He had been looking right at her, those piercing blue eyes had finally caught sight of there prey, and she was no longer the hunter.

Layla knew she had to get out of the area quickly, but her options where limited. Peeking back at where the man had been, she hissed, “Shit!” He was gone. She was definitely prey now.

Scaling the long thick limb she was on, she was glad she had discovered and honed her talents before the world had turned into hell on earth. Her nimble legs, balanced her perfectly as she walked from limb to limb, tree to tree. When she reached a space where the trees were further apart, she dropped down and swung between the branches. Her thick leather half finger gloves, protecting her hands and providing extra grip.

After a few minutes of swinging and walking through the trees, she decided to scale down to the ground. Running would get her much further even with her tree top skills. Sliding down the trunk of one of the thinner trees, she hit the ground running.

She could hear him now. He was close. But she had the advantage, he had been running from the start. She had yet to use the adrenaline that surged through her veins since being discovered. Kicking her legs into high gear, her feet pounded against the forest floor. Stirring up birds and disturbing a deer's grazing, she quickly realized she was gonna have to get quiet.

Stopping behind a large oak, she bent over gasping in lung fulls of air. The adrenaline rush was quickly dissipating, she probably had one more quick burst in her and then she would be done. She closed her eyes, lent back against the tree and listened. The leaves rustling in the wind, birds calling from there nests in the tree tops, the rushing water bubbling on it's stony bed, she could hear all the sounds of the forest but not him and the dog.

She grinned, fuck her if she didn't actually grin, until the bolt went through the side of her right thigh. She gasped in pain, hitting the ground like the wind had been knocked out of her. “Fuck,” she hissed, grabbing her thigh and assessing the damage. It was little more than a flesh wound, even with the bolt lodged firmly in place. Quite obviously shot to disable her and not to do any real damage. It would have been enough to do just that to anyone else.

Ripping a bandanna, from her thin backpack, she tied it tightly around the injury and bolt. She had let her guard down, thinking she had lost him. Stupid mistake, and not one she aimed to repeat. Rising to her feet she listened again, and surveyed her surroundings. She still couldn't hear him, or see him.

Braving it and gritting her teeth through the pain, she bolted in the same direction she had been heading earlier. She didn't make it ten feet, before slamming into a rock solid wall of man stepping directly into her path. Her nose filled with the scent of leather, motor oil, and cigarettes.

Daryl had timed it perfectly. The shot had been to distract her, so he could overtake and capture her. He had gotten the feeling, watching her climb and swing through the trees like a damn monkey, that she wasn't going to go down easy.

He was right, she only went down for a second. But it was long enough for him and dog to quickly move ahead of her. Positioning himself behind a tree and telling dog to lay low, he placed the crossbow at his feet against the tree and waited. He was right in her path.

The rhythmic thumb of her boots sounded out across the forest floor. He waited until she was right on top of him. Stepping from behind the tree, she slammed into his chest almost taking them both to the ground. He grabbed her bare shoulders, trying to keep them both on their feet. She was a tiny thing, but with an extremely toned frame, she hit like a linebacker.

Her fist connected with the bottom of his chin. Head snapping back, he honestly saw stars for a second. “Jesus,” he growled at her, in his gravely tone. “Wha tha fuck's that for?” He caught himself wondering what she had done before the world went to shit.

“Let me go,” she screamed. Dog barked at the pair, as Daryl grappled to keep a good hold on her. Tightening his grip on her arms, her reaction was to kick out at him with her uninjured leg.

“Calm down, ya wild woman,” he continued to growl. Using his height and strength to overpower her, he wrestled the struggling woman to the ground. She was unable to stop the cry that escaped her lips as the bolt pushed through her leg even more. Squirming and hissing below him, she reached for the knife at her hip, but Daryl was faster, grabbing the knife from her hand and tossing it in the direction of his crossbow. Having nothing else on her, she clawed at him as he struggled to keep her on the ground. Reaching for a length of rope on his belt loop, he flipped her easily so her back was facing him. Her vision blurred, as pain shot through her leg again, the bolt that was still in her leg snapping in half.

Grabbing her arms, Daryl ripped the backpack off of her and tossed it next to his crossbow. He tied her arms securely behind her back before moving off of her. Dog followed, backing up but squaring off at the woman.

Layla didn't know what to do, using every bit of strength she had, she tried desperately to get free of the man. He was just too strong, and the combined pain and continuous movement of the bolt in her leg did nothing to help. Once her hands were tied, he released her and she scrambled away from him despite her bindings and injury, breathing heavily from both the exertion and the pain. He looked at her through his shaggy hair like she was a wild animal, as she pushed herself along the ground to lean against the tree closest to her, wincing at the pain in her leg. Her head was pounding, and so was her thigh. Taking in quick unsteady gasps of air, she stared back at the man.

He now stood over her, his large bare arms folded across his broad chest, chewing on his bottom lip. Wearing a button down shirt with the sleeves ripped out, the vest with only one angel wing on the back (she had seen him wear everyday before) and loose jeans, he was very intimidating. She couldn't see his eyes, his shaggy hair falling in a masking curtain across his face. It unnerved her and set her on edge once more.

Daryl crouched down, bringing himself eye level with the girl. Placing his elbows on his knees, he pulled a blade of grass from the ground, picking at it as he spoke, “I can look at that for ya,” he stated calmly, nodding at the girl's injured leg. Half of the bolt was still protruding from her leg and every time she moved it, he could see the look of pain flash across her face. He watched the girl's eyes dart around, focusing on anything but him. “Ain't nobody gonna come save ya. Yer alone aren't ya?” he asked, not wanting to move any closer to her until she gave him permission.

She didn't answer him, instead tucking her head and looking toward the ground. It was all the answer Daryl needed. “Where's yer camp? What's yer name? How long ya been alone?” He didn't expect an answer this time, but thought if he threw enough questions at her, one might stick.

He was cut short on his interrogation, when Dog turned and whined at him and then barked. It was time to get back to camp. “We gotta move now,” he grumbled at the girl, but she made no move to stand. Dog barked again, “Come on girl, Dog says it's time to go.”

She looked at him then, “You named him, Dog?” she asked incredulously.

He scoffed at her, amused that that was what made her break her silence. He offered his hand, “What else ya gonna name a dog? Do you need help up?"

Layla huffed, blowing her wild hair out of her face, “Yeah, I guess.”

He grabbed her elbow and helped her rise to her feet. Releasing her only long enough to sling the crossbow and her pack over his shoulder, and collect the knife tucking it into his belt. Then he grasped her elbow again and began guiding her back to his camp.

Layla ripped her arm from his grasp, “I can walk on my own,” she snarled, cutting her eyes at her captor. Even as new pain shot through her leg, she was just stubborn enough to not accept any help. She would do this on her own.

Daryl huffed and inwardly cursed himself. Why was he trying to help this girl anyway? He rolled his shoulders awkwardly, and scratched at the stubble on his chin. “Look ya either move at my speed, or I am carryin ya, whether ya want me to or not."

She glared back at him, “Who says I have to follow you?” she hissed, through grit teeth. She was trying desperately to mask her pain with anger. She just hoped he couldn't see through it.

Daryl squared off at her, “Ya see anyone else here?” he questioned firmly, his hands forming fists at his sides. He stepped into her space, crowding her and inwardly chuckling as she stood her ground. Dog whined again, and growled low in his throat, bringing Daryl back to reality. “And if we don't move now, you die. I ain't risking my life for ya.”

Layla squared her shoulders against the man and the pain, “Then what are you waiting for?” she sneered at him.

He stepped back and blinked, then turned with a low whistle to Dog and headed back to the camp. He glanced over his shoulder momentarily, she was following him. Her limp was pronounced, but she was keeping up with him so he kept going.

Every step she took was excruciating. The bolt moved, and wormed it's way around the wound. Blood now coated her pants leg despite the bandanna tourniquet and she was felling the effects of the blood loss. But she would not ask for help.

Daryl, kept glancing back every few feet. The woman was going to pass out, it was just a matter of time. She was already turning a ghostly pale, sweat peppering her brow from pain and blood loss. It might have just been a disabling shot, but the bolt had still done enough damage that she really needed to get off her feet.

He almost felt bad for her. He hadn't intended to hurt her, he just wanted to know why she was following him. She was weaving now, stumbling as she kept up with his demanding pace. He slowed slightly, letting her catch up to him, so she was walking right beside him within arms reach. They were close to the camp now. If she could make it there, he would force her to let him take care of the wound.

Layla could feel the fatigue creeping in, blurring her vision and causing her feet to stumble. Her breathing becoming more labored as she fought for each step. They were so close now. She knew these woods from her time spent here, too much time. She wasn't going to make it, the blur was turning black as she began to move slower, wobbling. A desperate small cry escaped her lips. “Help,” then everything went black, as the ground rose to meet her.

[abigailht]

91 <3

Part 10: #91 “That’s in the past.”

(Previous parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9)

Read it on AO3 (X) 

Or keep reading here :)

The former savior died that night. His name hadbeen Landon, he didn’t have a family, but another guy who’d been living in thesanctuary before said that he’d been a worker and hadn’t been out fightingduring the war. This news spread among the people in Hilltop and managed tocause frustration and nervousness in those who’d resettled here, some evenconsidering leaving the colony because they didn’t know if they were safeanymore.  But the person who was mostshook by this was of course Cameron.

Daryl was listening to Paul narrating what hadhappened that day while he was cleaning his crossbow and arrows after beingoutside for a hunt all day. He had come home without any game this time, buthad encountered a few walkers and so it still had served him to keep his mindbusy and save him from a day of hearings and talking to eye witnesses,something Paul was eager to fill him up with now.

“So he’s gonna be sent away? Just like that?”he asked a few minutes later, after Paul had finished talking and sat downbeside him outside of their trailer, merely watching people passing by now.

He didn’t face Daryl when he answered, “Justtemporarily, it’s not safe for him to stay here right now, and we don’t wantmore incidents. And also, he just snapped there, Daryl, some people demand himto be exiled because they don’t feel safe around him anymore.”

“And what do you think?”

“I’m not worried about my safety,” Paul saidwith a snort.

“You know exactly what I meant.”

Paul sighed, “Honestly, I don’t know. Sendinghim to another settlement for now seems like a good solution at the moment. Atleast until things calm down.”

“Seen worse things than that, done worse,”Daryl said in a low voice, looking down on his crossbow and trying to stop theimages flashing through his head, images of war and bloodshed.

Now Paul faced him, looked at him withoutsaying anything for a while, then he put his hand on his forearm and the warmthseemed to spread through his body immediately.

“That’s different.”

“How? You saw what I did.”

“You were in a bad place…”

“Maybe he was too.”

“They tortured you, Daryl.”

“His daughter was killed right before his eyes,can do things to you too.”

“He snapped and attacked an innocent person, wedon’t know if that might happen again.”

“Yeah, well, not gonna pretend I ain’t everbeen there.”

When Paul didn’t know what to say to that,Daryl added, “The reason I came here.”

“You came to escape the nightmares, Daryl, youwere merely a shadow of yourself, you weren’t a danger to anyone.”

“I’d have killed him otherwise. That’s why Icame.”

“Negan isn’t innocent, though, your anger wasjustified and also directed at the right person.”

“Can’t say I wouldn’t have snapped like him eitherif I hadn’t left Alexandria, maybe would’ve been a danger to innocent peopletoo.”

“Daryl, you left, and you didn’t snap. That’sin the past.”

No, he didn’t. Because of him. Because he’dhelped him overcome those nightmares even though he hadn’t needed to do muchmore than just be there, spend time with him, talk, smile. That was why he’dcome here. And why he felt like Cameron deserved a second chance.

They fell silent for a few minutes, Paul’s handsliding down his arm and taking his hand into his, playing with his fingers fora while before he spoke again.

“So, do you think you’ll be able to accompanyhim with me to Alexandria?”

Daryl looked up with surprise written on hisface.

“I mean, I can do it alone, you don’t have to,”Paul added with a shrug. “Just thought it would be nice is all.”

“You’ll go alone with him?”

“Why? You worried?” Paul asked with an amusedsmirk.

“Didn’t you wanna go on that run tomorrow? Theone you were planning?”

“Yeah, I will, after delivering him there.”

Jesus, always volunteering for everything hecould. Taking over jobs the others didn’t want to do, and not even complainingonce about it all. It seemed unfair to him how he’d let himself be taken forgranted like this. And he hated the thought of having him gone for a week now. Andhe hated thinking that too, being weak like this, because he’d managed to blockthose thoughts until now.  

Daryl grunted and put his crossbow aside.

“Okay, when do you wanna go?”

Paul smiled and squeezed his hand. ”Will justpack some things and we’ll be good to go.”

“Now?”Daryl exclaimed.

“Yup,” he answered and stood up.

“When exactly were you gonna tell me?!”

“I think I just did,” he said and patted him onthe shoulder. 

[coffee-obsessed-writer]

The New World - Part 4

Here’s part 4, hopefully, you all enjoy xox

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Daryl x Reader, Daryl x Maggie, Maggie X Reader, Daryl x Glenn, Negan x All

Warnings: Implied smut, language, Canon-Violence, Canon-divergence, some fluffy moments with Daddy Daryl, some comic crossover story

Word Count: 3547

Daryl put his cup of coffee on the counter and folded you into him. He gazed down at you with a smile and expression that was full of love and pride.

“Mornin’ sweetheart,” he kissed you gently and you both laughed when Maggie made a gagging sound.

“I knew that wouldn’t take long…” she rolled her eyes and put down her mug of tea. “But now ain’t the time. Rick’s waitin’ at the church for us.”

“This about what happened yesterday?” you asked, the feeling of anxiety returning to your stomach. “You guys really think that prick had something to do with it?”

“I do,” Maggie answered, pushing her shoulders back, “somehow, he did it. He’s got someone here helpin’ him. We just gotta figure out who?”

“Yesterday, walkers got through the gates,” Rick’s voice boomed through the hollows of the church, “now, we don’t know exactly how that happened but trust me when I tell you, we are going to figure it all out.”

The murmurs grew louder and Rick waited a moment or two before continuing. He turned to give Michonne a tentative look, who was standing behind him up near the pulpit. She gave him a single nod, and barely-there smile, but it was all the Sheriff needed to continue.

“We are working on making sure it never happens again. Luckily, no one was hurt, but we are aware that many of you were unprepared. I want everyone to have a knife on them at all times. However, given the circumstances, until we figure out exactly what happened, only those on guard duty either at the wall or the prison will be armed with guns.”

The murmurs grew again, but Rick didn’t give them a chance to get carried away. “Listen, listen… I know how you feel. I don’t really like it either. But, we do have a prisoner within the walls, and while he’s been quiet for a while now, it doesn’t mean he’s not capable of trouble. So, again, until we can get it sorted out, everyone carries a knife to protect themselves against walkers, but only guards are to be armed.”

When the voices started to swell again, Maggie acted.

“Please, listen to Rick,” Maggie called out while standing up. “Negan is dangerous. We can’t be caught off guard again. Just give Rick a few days and we can fill everyone in on what he finds,” Maggie looked at the Sheriff and he gave her an appreciative nod.

“That’s it for now,” he spoke up again, “head back to whatever you had planned and carry on as usual. Just have a knife at the ready and eyes open at all times.”

Alexandrians slowly streamed from the church, but you Daryl, Maggie and Glenn hung back with Rick and Michonne.

“They don’t seem happy,” you said, looking between your friends trying to read their faces.

“No, they ain’t, but I know that asshole is behind this. Just gotta find out who lured the guards off the wall. I wanna talk to him again,” Daryl crossed his arms over his chest. “Just give me five fucking minutes with the prick.”

You flashed Daryl a warning glance, but if he saw it he didn’t react. “No way you’re going in there by yourself.”

“No, she’s right Daryl, you leave him be. I got a few ideas of how to handle him.” Rick gave the archer a look that warned him to steer clear. But you knew better than anyone that when Daryl got a notion in his head, it was hard for him to let it go and that realization was enough to start the anxiety growing in the pit of your stomach.

“I’m… I’m gonna go grab some supplies from the pantry. If you guys work shit out, let me know.” The sudden need to leave the church hit you like a ton of bricks. The thought of Daryl going face to face with the psychopath in the cell made you cringe. The idea that he was itching to do it simply made you crazy.

Since the war ended with the Saviors, and Negan was locked up, Daryl had been anxious to get time alone with him. He wanted to get even for the hell that Negan put everyone through, but mostly, he wanted justice for Abraham.

“Y/N,” Daryl called after you, “you alright?”

“Yeah, just need to get some lunch for the kids, forgot to stop there yesterday. I’ll catch you back home.” Your need for fresh air was overwhelming, so you turned quickly to leave before anyone else could stop you.

Walking quickly down the street, you came to a stop at the road, where you’d turn for the pantry. Instead, you walked straight towards where the prisoner lived. Rosita stood with her gun propped against her shoulder outside the door.

“Anything from him today?” you asked her.

“Nope,” was all Rosita would say as she gave a cursory glance into the door. “He’s been quiet.”

“Great,” you said and turned to walk away before she could pick up on the sardonic tone of your voice. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

  Later that afternoon, you walked into the house with an armload of pantry supplies and heard familiar voices drifting in from the dining room. Rounding the corner, you saw Daryl leaning against the wall, while Rick, Glenn, Maggie and Michonne sat around your table with serious faces.

The conversation stopped when you entered the room, and you felt a little taken aback.

“I guess the public portion of the crisis management plan is over, now we’re onto the inner circle briefing I see,” you tried to crack a joke but only Daryl offered you a smile.

“Hey,” he kissed your head and wrapped an arm around your waist.

“So, what’s happening?” you asked, looking back and forth between them waiting for someone to give you a straight answer.

Rick stood up from the table, along with Michonne and started walking towards the door. “We gotta get over to the jail, gonna be puttin’ two guards on him at all times now. Daryl will fill you in on the rest. We’re gonna get it all sorted out Y/N, I promise.”

The sheriff smiled and nodded once in Daryl’s direction. Michonne touched your shoulder and squeezed it as she followed Rick through the front door.

Maggie and Glenn stood up next also headed towards the front door.

“Where’s Hershel?” you asked looking down the hallway, “where are all the kids for that matter?”

“They’re still with Enid,” Maggie said picking up her jacket off the chair. “Gonna head over there to grab ‘em soon. Want me to keep Abe and Shelby for a bit?” Maggie was looking to Daryl now, and that familiar feeling of anxiety that had already taken root was growing by the minute.

Daryl nodded, “Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks. I’ll come by and grab ‘em later.”

“Hey,” Maggie turned to you and took her hand. “Just hear him out, okay? Remember what we talked about last night?” You nodded your head at your best friend and she gave your hand one last squeeze.

Daryl followed them to the front door and closed it softly. When he came back into the room, you could see he had a lot on his mind, and no matter what it was, it couldn’t be good.

“Alright, out with it. What’s Rick’s plan and how long will you be gone?”

Daryl laughed, shaking his head enough for his hair to obscure his eyes. He absently brushed it from his face and pulled out a chair for you to sit in.

“Shit, you want me to sit down… this can’t be good,” your voice was shaky and no matter how hard you tried to quell your nerves, you couldn’t.

“Rick thinks we should go talk to Ezekiel and Jesus. See if they’ve been havin’ any trouble like we did the other day. We can’t prove shit with Negan yet… chances are its him. But, what if it’s not? Rick would feel better if we talk to them both.”

“So, a trip to The Kingdom and The Hilltop?” you settled a little at that idea, though you knew it would be a rather long trip. Rick and Daryl had ventured to those communities many times over the years since things had been settled with the Saviors. “Ok, that’s not so bad. When do you and Rick leave?”

“Rick ain’t goin’. He wants to stay here. Him, Michonne, Carl, Rosita… they’re gonna keep a close eye on Negan,” Daryl sighed and leaned forward on the table. Finding your hand and taking it in his, he locked eyes with you, and you knew that there was something more.

“What? What aren’t you telling me?” Daryl covered your hand with both of his and let a soft smile touch his lips.

“I want you and the kids to come. Maggie and Glenn too…” Your whole body tensed and Daryl saw it. “Y/N, this is what we talked about. Getting the kids out beyond the walls...”

“Yes, I know. But, I thought maybe right beyond the walls, in the surrounding woods. Not a two-day trip back and forth to the Kingdom and another to the Hilltop. That’s a lot for them. Hell, it’s a lot for anyone.”

“Think about what they could see and experience. The Kingdom has other kids, and Ezekiel has expanded that place a lot since you were there last. He’s got them learning archery, ’specially the young ones. There’s even a shootin’ range within their walls now.”

Burying your face in your hands, you could feel the constriction starting in your chest. Even though Daryl was right, and you had acknowledged that, the idea of traveling that far with Abe and Shelby was beyond frightening.

“Daryl, you said Rick is staying behind. I think the kids and I should stay, you and Glenn go. If Maggie wants too, fine, Hershel can stay here with me. But, I just don’t think…”

Daryl stood up suddenly, the chair kicking back harder than he intended. The frustration was clearly written across his furrowed brow.

“No.” His hands were on his hips as he started pacing back and forth. “I ain’t going without ya, ‘n I gotta go, so…”

“Daryl, please. You can go and when you get back, we can talk about the best way to start teaching them whatever –”

“No! You ain’t hearin’ me woman, you’re goin’ and so are they,” he exhaled and you could tell he was trying to calm himself down.

“Why? Whys is it so important that this be it… that we all go?!”

“Because you’re my goddamn wife ‘n I fuckin’ want you with me!” he growled, immediately regretting the force with which he said it.

Despite his explosive nature in that moment, you felt a swell of love and pride in the man standing in front of you. Through the long fringes of hair, his eyes found yours and you could see his body noticeably relax once your gazes locked.

“I always just want you with me,” Daryl’s voice cracked.

Standing up from the chair, you wrapped your hands around his biceps and rubbed them lightly.

“That’s the first time you ever called me that,” you smirked and swallowed hard, trying to keep the swirl of emotion to not overtake the moment.

Daryl hung his head, and gently nudged his forehead to yours. Pulling back, he rubbed a thumb over your cheek and drew in a deep breath.

“I know I never really did it proper,” he shrugged one shoulder, his voice softer, “never got ya a ring or had a big party or nothin’. But, your still as much my wife as Maggie is Glenn’s… or Michonne is Rick’s.”

“I don’t need any of that Daryl. I’ve thought of you as my husband the second Shelby was born,” you rested your forehead to his chest and drew in a deep breath of him. Feeling his arms wrap around you made you feel like you could do or be anything. You could be his wife, the mother of his children, and brave enough to take on all that meant.

“Somethin’ like this, somethin’ this big, I don’t think I coulda done it with anyone else. Bein’ someone’s dad… somebody’s husband. It’s a lot. But you make me wanna do it. You make me wanna be somebody y’all can count on. I’d die before I let ya down.”

“You never have Daryl and you never will. I don’t think it’s even possible.” You reached up and left a soft kiss on his lips, and he returned it in kind. When you parted, you caught the gaze in your husband’s azure eyes. You wanted to give him as much as he’s given you, and knew that there was no way you could deny what he wanted so badly. “So, when do we leave?”

“Really?” a slow smile unfolded on his face.

“Yeah, really. Let’s do it. The first annual Dixon and Rhee family vacation is a go!” you laughed as Daryl ran a hand through the top of your hair, down to your neck and pulled your lips to his.

Daryl’s mouth was already open as it crashed onto yours, ready to devour you. His embrace tightened on you, nearly knocking you over and your laughter through his kisses made him press down on you harder.

Pulling away, his gaze narrowed and got serious again. “I love ya, more than just about anything else in this world.”

“Same, Dixon… same,” you kissed him again, and felt as though you really could do just about anything as long as he was standing right next to you.

  As night fell over Alexandria, the usual quiet calm blanketed the community as each one of the residents found their way home. Once the streets were empty, he waited until it was the changing of the guards at the prisoner’s cell to break the cover of darkness and head to the rear entrance to the cell.

Normally locked, he pulled the key from his jeans and carefully let it slide into handle. It made a much bigger noise than he anticipated, making him cringe and fortify himself to be caught. When he was sure no one heard the clank, he slipped into the rear entrance of the house containing the prison cell and waited until he knew the guards were changing shifts before making his presence known.

Removing his hat, he left it near the door and carefully removed the patch that covered his non-existent eye. He did that whenever he had snuck in here to see Negan. At first it had just been to prove that he wasn’t afraid of the man. But after that, Negan made it known that he wanted to always see Carl’s face, sans patch and hat.

Carl had no idea what the big man’s game was. He knew he was somehow responsible for the gate getting open and walkers getting in. He’d been coming to see Negan under the cover of night for years, and while they normally just talked, it was clear that he was up to something much more; and that was something Carl would not stand for.

What started out of mere curiosity, developed into some strange sort of friendship between the prisoner and the sheriff’s son. As the years progressed and Carl got older, walkers or no walkers, Carl and Rick began to butt heads over more than just the usual teenager stuff.

Carl wanted to be his own man, travel between the communities and start a life of his own. One night while staring Negan down, the man simply asked him what it was that he wanted. Since that moment, Carl had found a rather strange acquaintance in Negan.

Negan found something even better in Carl; he found the possibility of another ally.

Carl’s bootsteps fell softly on the concrete floor. There was no guard outside yet, which means the shift change was late, so he only had a few minutes. Rounding the corner, he could see Negan awake, only his white teeth shining in a larger than life smile from the corner shadows of the cell.

“Carl! Boy am I happy to see you. Bring me something good tonight?” Negan pushed himself off the wall and sauntered over to the cell door. He rested his arms on the horizontal bar, letting his hands and wrists hanging over casually, while gently pressing his face against the vertical bars. “I am starving! Seems as though dear old dad doesn’t think I deserve a proper dinner. Even though, I’ve proven I am more than willing to feed his own kids.”

Carl reluctantly pulled an apple from his coat pocket and went to hand it to Negan. Before he could take it from the boy’s hands, Carl pulled it away, glaring his one eye at him.

“How did you do it?” Carl asked without relinquishing is gaze or the apple.

“Do what?” Negan feigned confusion.

“You know what.”

“Oh, that?” Negan mocking swung his torso around and pointed out the small window towards the front of the community. When he turned back to Carl, his face was contorted into a mocking frown, but his eyes were alive and playful.

“Carl! Buddy… I am hurt that you think it was me. I get your dad thinking it, but you? Come the fuck on kid, I thought we trusted each other?”

“I don’t trust you at all,” Carl puffed out his chest and stood taller.

“Really?” Negan purred making his way back to the cell door. “The why have you been coming to see me a few times a week for the past couple years? And what would Daddy Rick think if he knew?”

“Tell him, like I give a shit,” Carl could feel his anger growing. He had thought given his rather odd friendship with the prisoner, that maybe he would be able to get an answer, but he could see that Negan wasn’t going to give up anything.

“Well, maybe I will!” Negan licked his teeth and glared at the boy that wasn’t so much a boy anymore. He saw something flash across Carl’s face and for the first time since the cell gate closed behind him years before, he felt a spot of uncertainty in the pit of his stomach. “Or,” he continued, eyeing the apple in Carl’s grip, “You can give me the apple, and maybe I’ll tell you a story. Wanna hear a story, kid? Cause I got a doozy.”

Negan flashed his wide, toothy grin to the sheriff’s son. Carl slowly held the apple forward until Negan’s grip was on it, his large hand covering the fruit, along with Carl’s hand. The two held the grip over the apple for more than a second before Carl finally relented, letting the prisoner have it.

“Atta boy…” Negan sunk his teeth into the tough red skin, letting the juice drip into his long beard. He didn’t care or didn’t notice, because he continued to eat the fruit as if it was his last meal on Earth. “Have a seat kid, and I’ll tell ya a tale.”

  The morning dawned over the community, but clouds kept the sun at bay. Daryl had pulled the RV around to the front of your house, while Maggie and Glenn were bringing their packs out to the walkway.

Shelby and Hershel were playing with the chalk again, while Abe was snuggled in your arms. His short, steady breathing told you he was nearly back to sleep again, and you relished in the weight of the boy in your arms.

Daryl came up the walk, pausing at the sight of you and his son snuggled together. He gently rubbed Abe’s head as he left a kiss on your cheek.

“You ready?” he asked softly.

“Mmhmm,” you cooed, not wanting to disturb Abe.

Daryl leaned into your ear opposite Abe, so only you could hear him. “You know you look pretty fuckin’ sexy right now. Maybe Maggie could take the boy for a bit and we could…”

“Daryl,” you smacked him playfully in the chest with your free hand, “Really? Now?”

“Any fucking time, any fucking place,” he growled, his hand grabbing your ass heartily before walking back up to the porch to get the rest of the bags.

Once the RV was packed with bags and kids, you, Maggie and Glenn settled in for the trip to The Kingdom. From the passenger seat, you watched Daryl and Rick talking and even sparing a laugh or two. Rick smacked Daryl’s shoulder in a brotherly gesture as Daryl gave him a pronounced nod before getting in the RV. Watching them together left you with a warm feeling growing in your core. The fear you held onto at the thought of the trip was disappearing second by second as you realized that the people around you would go above and beyond to ensure the safety of your family.

There wouldn’t be another Robbie in your life, not ever. Your husband was strong and brave and would go to extreme lengths to keep you all safe. Your best friend and her husband were just as brave and capable, refusing to take shit from anyone. The others, Rick, Michonne, Carl, Carol, Sasha, Rosita… they could all be counted on to be there when things were scary.

Daryl sat down in the driver’s seat with a huff and turned the engine over. Putting the hulking vehicle into gear, it lurched forward causing a squeal of delight from the kids and Glenn to ask Daryl if he should do the driving.

Daryl silently flipped Glenn off in the rearview mirror, making both you and Maggie laugh. You took in a deep breath, exhaled and felt excited for the journey ahead. Once he got her going, the RV rolled on without a hitch as Daryl directed it out beyond the walls of Alexandria and onward towards the Kingdom.

----------

Tags: @kazosa @soythedemonqueen @onlydarylnormanfic @jodiereedus22 @his-paradox @zombeeemomeee @tiquismiquis @sorenmarie87 @redm81 @rhyatt-deauxtreve @kingdixonreedus @reedusteinrambles @aquivercactus @buckyscrystalqueen   

[desussquad]

Desus saves, but we don’t 2k17

Voting outcome!

The votings are closed and it is decided which fic is the saddest, and which author is the biggest heartbreaker in our ship! 💔  

Since many people voiced that they’d prefer to know more than just the winner because it was hard to decide on just one fic to be the saddest, I’ll share the top three sad fics with you.

The top three saddest fics:

Chapter 16: wrap my flesh in ivy by  javelinas (@in-case-you-get-thirsty)

Chapter 5:  Every day, for the rest of their lives by JamesJohnEye (@jamesjohneye)

Chapter 6:  It Just Happened (Nightingale) by GayNinjaBadass @gayninjabadass

Head over to AO3 now (X) to look up which fic was written by whom to see if your guessing was right or wrong :D

Thank you so much to everyone for participating, reading, and voting! It was really fun to me to organize and see this challenge through <3 I can’t wait for the next one! Feel free to still give me feedback if you want @abigailht for future projects or @desussquad.

Keep reading for more voting results...

Participants:

@shinysylver @gayninjabadass @canoncannon @merrymerricat@asexualsteebrogers @chalichi @jamesjohneye @remuslupinsmiled @drcloyd@oleanderedits @m0usi3l0us13 @bakudrawssometimes @in-case-you-get-thirsty @desus-trash @aggressivelybiisexual

Organizer:

@abigailht ; special thanks to @annyanka-x-o for fanart contribution <3

The voting results: 

85 votes altogether 

The exact votes on each chapter won’t be revealed to not put unnecessary pressure on the authors! (So please don’t ask)

Did you read every chapter? 

If "No": Why? And which ones did you skip? 

I put yes but I technically didn't read all of Chapter 4. As soon as I realized what happened when Daryl threw the knife I knew I couldn't handle it and skimmed the rest of the chapter.

I read all but the last 5 and it was because reading so many sad fics got me triggered into a depression low. That I'm still in, 2 days later. But I don't want anyone in the challenge to feel bad! I've never been triggered like that, didn't realize it would happen, and it's really a testament to how great the fics were.

Only got through chapter 5 because I was crying so hard I barfed.

How did you feel about this challenge?

Your favourite genres:

Your age?

Feedback:

This was awesome even if I am mad at EVERYONE right now because ow ow ow ow ow ow ow... ;P 

I loved it! The thing that bothered me was the fact that almost all of them were about Jesus/Daryl dying. I wanted different types of angst. Break ups, unrequited love, etc. And i wanted some AU (no ZA) stuff but other than that it was great! Really hoping to see more challenges 

It was perfect.

from what i can tell it was great, tysm for doing it! i love the idea that writers planned like this for the ship to have fun, but maybe another genre would be more fun, i cry easily ='( but still loved the whole idea. plz tell the others i loved all of them, i had four favorites and it was so hard to pick, some of the lines of this one just killed me tho. loved the art so much too. loved it all, team desus 4 life =D

Thank you for organizing it! Everything looked great. I hope the authors will reveal themselves eventually.

Great organization, I was totally pleased!

Perfection.

Fantastic project! Congratulations to all the writers - they are magnificent! Just wanted to add my notes on my particular favourites (perhaps the next project could have the reader's 'top 5'...?): 6. It just happened (nightingale) - Bawled throughout, beautiful. 5. Every day for the rest of our lives - This story is worse than having them die! 3. Vows - Cried, heart rending. 7. Smoke and stone - Broke my heart - really well written. 16. Wrap my flesh in ivy - Lots of tears, needs a 2nd read. 14. Once there was - Bawled @ the end, started so cute.

thank you so much for this challenge! it was a fantastic read and a good opportunity to clean my tear ducts. special thanks to you as a hoster, i've never seen a fandom event organised as smoothly and cleverly as this was. and the illustrations! *__* such a great job <3

I demand the next challenge to be a highschool AU.

maybe u can give the top 3/5, not just the winner?? sadfic kinda limits everything, they all killed one of them basically, maybe different challenge.nobody writes poetry; force them all to do something else

It is amazing! I want more absolutelly and can't wait for next! Thank You so much for this <3

Cried so hard over this story... (It Just Happened (Nightingale)

Everything was really well done! Bravo

[shinydixon]

Daryl Dixon x Reader ||Dwight x Reader - You’re gonna be okay

PART 2

I love Daryl and I know Dwight was an asshole to him, however, I love his character since I read about him in the comic so yeah...I want to write something about him ♥

At first I wanted the reader and Daryl to be siblings but then I decided to make them boyfriend and girlfriend, while between Dwight and Reader there is something platonic.

If I have more ideas this can have more chapters.

WARNINGS: MENTION OF SEX (between Daryl and the reader), Little angst and fluff

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE SO, SORRY FOR EVENTUAL ERRORS.

“Someone is here”

Rosita welcomed us from our long journey like that.

Today we went to Oceanside, hoping that people would join us against Negan, however we came home with all their guns and no allies.

When I thought that I can finally rest another problem came out.

While our group is walking toward the little prison situated into an house’s basement , Daryl grab my hands, walking next to me.

I lift my head toward him giving him a small smile.

He knows that what we did to Oceanside upset me so he tries to comfort me.

When we finally enter into the basement and after Rosita opens the cell door, we finally see who our guest is...blonde hair...scarred face...

Dwight

Suddenly I see Daryl charging toward him.

“Daryl stop!” I scream, while Jesus and Rick try to keep him away from Dwight.

“Daryl look at me right now!” my voice grow louder , making him stop.

I grab his face with my hands and I lay my forehead against his.

“You’re better then him, he won’t hurt you anymore” I whisper sweetly.

After I made sure that Daryl was calm, we get close to Rick, listening to what he’s saying.

“I want Negan dead”. Dwight expression was serious, I can see determination into his eyes.

“Do you wanna help?”

“I do” At that point Rick grab his gun, pointing it at Dwight’s face: “Ok...get on your knees”.

Slowly Dwight get on his knees, looking straight into Rick’s eyes. “I’m serious...Negan took everything I love from me...I’m here to end this”

Seeing that he didn’t get any reaction from Rick, Dwight eyes moved to me.

“You! You know what it feels like seeing your loved one taken away from you”

I let out a sigh...he was right, Negan took Daryl away from me and I couldn’t do anything...but this man killed Denise...this man hurted Daryl...

Our stare was interrupted by Daryl that he pushed me behind him: 

“Don’t you even dare to talk to my wife”

A warm shiver run across my back.

He called me his wife.

Even though I wanted to scream in happiness, I must stay calm, I can cheer later.

Dwight scoffed at that: “Negan took my wife, you should understand why I want him dead so bad”.

Rick interrupted Dwight: 

“We’ll talk about that, for now you’ll stay here”.

With that said, All of us walked out the cell while Rick closes the door.

While everyone heads out I linger for a moment staring at the blonde man.

“You know what it feels like seeing your loved one taken away from you”

“(Y/n) are you coming or what?”

I shake my head, listening to Daryl calling out for me take me back to reality.

“Yes, sorry”.

We are reunited in the church talking about what to do with Dwight.

“I think we should give him a chance”

“How could you say that? He killed Denise!”

Tara voice was filled with pain once she listened my opinion.

“Yeah but...” “ I can’t believe you said that, he literally beat up your man and you want to give him a chance? I can’t believe you’re such an idiot”.

I always despised Rosita, she thinks she knows everything but all the things she has done was enough to make our situation with Saviours worse.

“Listen here you smartass, don’t you think I know? I know he killed Denise, I know he beated and shoot my husband and I fucking know that it can be a trap! However, anyone of you considered that maybe he was forced to do that?”.

Everyone stay in silence, hearing what I was saying.

I turn to Daryl: “I was with you when we first met him, don’t you remember what he said? He was scared, his only purpose was protect his wife...”

Daryl lowers his head, while i turn around facing Rick: “All of us saw what Negan is capable of...Daryl told me that Negan took Sherry as his wife and he couldn’t do nothing...just like when he took Daryl away from us”.  I let out a sigh, Rick was staring at my eyes letting me know that I have his attention: “I know that we can’t totally trust him yet, but think about it, he knows Negan, he knows the Sanctuary so I think that he can be helpful against him”.

The silence that filled the church seems eternal.

I can see that my words didn’t have an effect just on Rick but on everybody.

“Okay (Y/n), we’ll give him a chance but he will stay into that cell until we make sure that he can be trusted”.

A smile appears on my face.

“...but since it’s a good idea, you’ll stay with him, you’ll know him better and try to figure out if he’s being honest”.

“(Y/n) will not go anywhere near that asshole”.

Daryl almost growled, he’s really angry.

“Then who will keep an eye on him huh? Everybody in this room wants to kill him so, she’ll do it, whether you like it or not”.

After the improvised meeting all of us heads home.

Daryl was pacing back and fort the room, still angry at what Rick told him.

“Daryl can you please stop? you’re making me nervous” “Sorry if I’m worried about you being with that prick”

Talking will not calm him down so I get up from the bed and I envelope him into an hug.

“I’ll be fine, you know I can handle myself” I assure him, while I snuggle onto his cheast.

I feel his muscular arms around my hips, Daryl was finally returning the hug.

I feel him laying a kiss on the top of my head: “I know you can, I’m just really angry at him, for everything he has done to us”.

I end our embrace, giving my back to Daryl.

“Maybe I know how to help you to pour out all your anger” while I’m talking to him I take off my t-shirt, showing him my bare back.

Turning around I throw my t-shirt to him and I lay down on the bed, displaying my breats.

“I mean, you call me your wife so let’s celebrate our sudden marriage” I say, smiling at him.

His blue eyes became dark and his tongue came out, licking his dry lips.

With a quick move he straddled me on the bed, starting to kiss me on my neck, on my jawline and finally taking his time playing with my breast: “Yeah, I think you can help me” he grins.

Let’s just say that it was a very long night.

The next morning I woke up early, ready to spend the day with Dwight.

I was in the kitchen, drinking my coffee when I suddenly feel arms wrapping around my hips: “Good morning sunshine” 

Daryl’s deep voice gave me goose bumps.

He lays little kisses on my temple, he’s always so sweet after a night full of rough sex.

“I’m so sore Daryl, you better make up for it” I turn to him giving a peck on his lips.

He lay down again to deepen the kiss but I walk away from him, taking the tray with Dwight’s breakfast.

“I have to go, be a good boy and maybe we can continue this” I say grinning.

Daryl however has a serious expression on his face: “Please (Y/n), be careful”

I nod at him before going out our house.

I excpected Dwight to be more talktive, trying to persuade me to believe him, however he silently ate his breakfast.

Once he finished, the silence was interrupted by his raspy voice:  “Thank you”

I was taken aback by that..I didn’t expect him to thank me.

Looking at my surprised expression, he scoffed: “Your man didn’t tell you what I gave him to eat while he was at the Sanctuary?”

Of course he told me.

Dog food.

Just thinking about him in that dark room makes me angry.

“Yeah, he told me, but I’m not like you...we’re different from your community.”.

Silence filled the room again.

I was sat down a chair in front of the cell while Dwight sit in front of me on his bed.

“What happened to your face? You didn’t have that when I met you”.

“Negan...that’s what happened”.

Dwight get up and slide the now empty trail under the cell’s door.

When he turns around I notice that something fell from his pocket.

Picking it up I notice that it’s a photo of him and Sherry.

They seemed so happy.

“Dwight! This is yours...” I say while I hand out to him the picture, toward the cell’s bars.

He took the picture from me and linger there looking at it.

“You seems happy in that picture...” “We were...she gave up her freedom to save me”

Dwight’s voice trembled, he stares at me with watery eyes: “I...I wanted to stay with her again, I wanted to take her away from that place but I freaked out and stole your bike”.

He turns around walking to the bed, he really need to sit down.

“I didn’t want to do all of that, I just wanted to stay with her...I’m sorry I took out my anger on Daryl...he didn’t deserve all of that”.

In that moment I forget that he was the man who hurted my loved one...I forget that he left us in the woods...and I forget that he’s the man that shoot an arrow right into Denise’s eyes.

He was broken.

In that moment I don’t see an enemy...I see Daryl.

Both of them are fragile and broken.

They want to keep their loved one safe, ready to sacrifice everything, even their freedom just to make sure that the people they care about don’t get hurt.

We didn’t talk anymore that day, we stay in silence until dinner time when it’s time for me to go.

“(Y/n) wait a minute”

I stop on my tracks, turning toward him.

He took off the vest he was wearing on his shirt.

“Here”.

Once I reach for it I finally notice the wings on its back.

This is Daryl’s vest!

I smile at him, touching his hand: “Thank you Dwight...this means a lot to me”.

Day passed by and I spend a lot of time with Dwight.

We started to talk more about a lot of things, sometimes we also shared a laugh.

I can say that we bounded a lot and I’m 100% sure that he’s honest about his intention against Negan.

“You know D? Rick says that he’ll talk to you, that means the war is gettin’ closer”.

I lower my head.

The realisation hit me.

More people will die, it can be me, it can be one of my friends...

...it can be Daryl

Just the thought of losing him makes me feel like someone stabbed me right on my heart.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” 

Dwight walks quickly toward me.

He brings his hands on my cheeks.

I didn’t notice that I was crying until I realize that Dwight was wipping away my tears with his finger tips.

I stare at him, the bars separate us however I feel him so close to me.

Dwight start to lean close to my face.

I was paralyzed.

I love Daryl I really do...but I haven’t the strength to stop him.

He lay a little kiss on my lips.

It was quick but was enough to snap me out from my trance and move away from him.

We stare at each other, both surprised about that fleeting kiss.

Before one of us can say something, the door opens and Rick start to walk down the stairs.

“I need to talk to Dwight, you can go”.

Nodding I walk toward the stairs.

“And (Y/n)?”

I turn around to Rick, waiting for  him to continue.

“Thank you” “Don’t mention it”.

Once I was out from that little prison I lay my back against the wall.

Tears start falling again from my (e/c) eyes.

What happened with Dwight was nothing...

Why this happened to me?

I keep repeating into my head that the little kiss I shared with him meant nothing...

...but was that the truth?

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