#and the walking dead ofc

[http-wolfstar]

Winter walks ❄️

[spotsupstuff]

List of things that sparked joy in my little Ancient culture enthusiast heart:

The moths in the Ancient Urban are essentially pigeons, including the fact some of them are tagged.

Finally a proper and canon confirmation that Ancients really did have pets, positive relationships with animals and weren't Only stuck in glass cubes on display like Moon implies once. It can also mean that they did research into animal behaviour, such as tracking migrating and such. From how biologists are in real life, we can assume they were even genuinely passionate & happy about these type of things.

All the pottery and plates in that workshop room,

A confirmation that they did have paper and used scrolls for writing stuff down,

alongside with the pearls that they, too, could perhaps freely read or one of those things on the shelf there might be a pearl reader, if it is more technologically based (CDs type information keeping)

I also wonder if those things there are books- with stone tablet pages or paper ones? digital things hidden in hardcovers?- or something else entirely. Do they maybe hold orders for earthenware?

The masks on the wall, they feel so real compared to the murals.

Are they of the same person or is it of the workers there or maybe a family? Some of them look similar to those in the murals.

While at the concept of family, they had creches, but it doesn't sound like it was an outright job in the sense that they seem to have been community-raised (I fuckin' knew it I can put down my tin hat now).

They had hard beds, similar to what used to be used in old china iirc, along with that pillow/headrest

This kinda thing. They were made out of porcelain to keep the head cool in the night, but I think some where out of wood too.

The bustling of the city.

The normalcy of people going about their day, talking, the vehicles zipping by (they had some kind of motor vehicles!!!!).

The architecture, in both the Ancient Urban and the Outer Rim (those roofs made the right side worth it to me, that's how much I love these bastards)

I find it very funny that what looks to me like a REALLY poor ass cable management seems like the height of decorative prowess to them. Also some insight into how the void ,,bath" actually looked like.

The toys... just the toys.

Alongside these dialogues

And the one about him remembering the halls he ran through- oh when I say that I adore the fact that this Echo is a kid stuck here, lonely and vulnerable with polite speech not plaguing it.

The original Echoes combined with the Iterators' distaste for the species as whole painted the Ancients as these heartless things lazer focused only on the Ascension, religion and rituals. There wasn't much space for thinking about them in a more human manner and I feel like most of the fandom did depict the Ancients only as the impression was given. Bunch of posh full of themselves suckups, uncaring much for one another or anything around them.

I get kinda annoyed when there's an insistance that some kind of sapient species has done only bad. With humans, too, I just about had it with the demonization, negativity and staggering blindness to the beauty and good we can and do create- in both fiction and reality. Same goes for these dumbasses.

Disko kid here begs to challenge that impression. He's lost and alone and kind of scared, stuck here not knowing how to move forward. He mourns the regularity and simplicity of his room, the nostalgia of shelves and toys, the golden sunrays sneaking in through the windows. He brings a certain humanity into the consideration of Ancients.

That maybe, only maybe.. they deserve to be mourned.

[banshees-martin]

AT THE SAME DAMN TIME ‼️‼️‼️‼️

[sammygrace]

Clandestine | Series Masterlist

Completed

Phoenix Lancaster wasn't very open about where she was before Aaron found her, and she probably never would be, but what happens when a group of survivors enter the gates.

Daryl Dixon wasn't very open about the grief he feels from Beth's death, and he probably never would be, but what happens when a girl is forced to be a guide.

Prologue

Chapter One | Newbies

Chapter Two | Nightly Stroll

Chapter Three | Stepping In

Chapter Four | New Recruiters

Chapter Five | Confessions

Chapter Six | Alfredo Pasta

Chapter Seven | Bald Man

Chapter Eight | Past and Present

Chapter Nine | Ambushed

Chapter Ten | Insulin

Chapter Eleven | Drive and Burn

Chapter Twelve | Vending Machine

Chapter Thirteen | Linked Pinkies

Chapter Fourteen | A Burial

Chapter Fifteen | Valentina

Chapter Sixteen | Deals and Death

Chapter Seventeen | Houdini

Chapter Eighteen | Silenced

Chapter Nineteen | Oh Thank Jesus

Chapter Twenty | Asylum

Chapter Twenty-One | All About Trust

Chapter Twenty-Two | We Are One

Chapter Twenty-Three | Worth It

Chapter Twenty-Four | The Run-Away Bride

Chapter Twenty-Five | Evading

Chapter Twenty-Six | All Good Things

Chapter Twenty-Seven | Come To An End

Chapter Twenty-Eight | Valentina 'Phoenix' Lancaster

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AO3 Story Link

Wattpad Story Link

|

note from your author:

hello!

i do not own the walking dead (because obviously i would not be writing on wattpad/ao3/tumblr if i did), nor do i condone anything any character does in this fic.

usually when i write fics, i will finish the whole story than start posting, but i decided that i wanted to write as i post to maybe motivate me. i will try my very best to put out at LEAST a chapter a week, sometimes more if i'm feeling nice.

while i do follow the storyline of the show, some timing on shit may be a little off, so i do apologize. and will i deviate from the original canon? guess you'll have to wait and see :)

also, i will attempt to put trigger warnings at the start of chapters, but if they're wrong or one's missing, please let me know! 

i will not be giving my OC a specific face claim, and if you go to some of my other stories (on AO3 more so), i use the name Phoenix Lancaster quite often with no real vision of her. if i use any descriptive language about her appearance, i'm honestly basing a good amount of it off of me, since it's easy to remember. she's honestly kind of a stand in for a Y/N at this point.

and no hate! i am a nineteen-year-old college student on her summer break (currently obviously), this is purely for fun, and when i go back to school it will be a stress reliever.

xoxo,

sammy

[1427]

masterlist

they're literally all NSFW 😇📢

Daryl Dixon x OFC

When the Levee Breaks (Beatle)

The one in which a stripper that used to know Merle and Daryl shows up at the Atlanta camp. Daryl’s feelings are complicated but mostly he hates her, right?

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 // part 5 //

i love you (always forever) (sister!ofc)

In the winter of ‘95 Daddy died. Leaving Lady to finish up her senior year in high school, and Daryl to brood over when to sell the house. The summer of ‘96 is the first time Lady feels alive. Daryl wants to give her one last summer to remember before she has to grow up for real.

part 1 // part 2

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Something to Prove

Every time your mom goes down to the city with Merle she lets Daryl stay behind and watch TV.

part 1 // part 2 //

petal plush’d

Sinnedenoderum: Floral Species - When inhaled by human beings it has psychoactive properties as well as acting on the nervous and vascular systems. Often causes a lack of inhibitions and desire or delusion of the need for sexual intercourse. In some cases will cause tumecense in individuals affected. 

Negan x Reader

humiliation

Negan makes an example of you. (extremely dubious consent)

Would you? (niece!reader)

Your mom dies, leaving Lucille and Negan as your guardians. Lucille dies, the world ends, and Negan becomes the leader of the Saviors. After taking residence in the Sanctuary he becomes a stranger. No one wants anything to do with Negan’s “daughter”, so when you confront Negan about needing company, he obliges. You don’t realize that the feelings you’re developing are inappropriate, but Negan does.

part 1 // part 2

Boyd Crowder X OFC

dirge (Beatle)

Boyd is sick of being full of shit. When one of his new flock seems to see him for who he really is, he decides it might not be a bad idea to let her. (Major character death)

[walkingtalkingsomething]

Summary: In a world where the living have long since surpassed the dead in threat level, Tess Foster had made it one of her top priorities to keep her distance unless absolutely necessary. However, after a bad encounter leaves her barely standing, she may have no choice but to accept the forced company that is suddenly thrust upon her. A Daryl Dixon x Original Female Character sloooooooooooooow burn story that I would call largely platonic. A 'They have a Thing™️ but just don't know it' kind of deal

Chapter 1: Just Try

Chapter Warnings: Mild Language, Brief Mention of Blood and Injuries

Word Count: 1,214

10 More Seconds. Just hold on for 10 more seconds.

It was something her grandfather had always said to her. A Vietnam vet who always had a word of advice or a way to fight through something. It started when she was eleven. Tuesdays and Thursdays were P.E. days, and they always started the same - with running.

She was no runner.

It was never from lack of trying, though. She always wanted to be a good runner, had always had this romanticized fantasy of running freely through the woods or a lush forest, with nothing but a clear head and the wind rushing around her. An escape. For so long it had sounded like heaven to her. In theory, anyways. In practice...

She was no runner.

Regardless of the determination to improve and all the practice she had put into increasing her cardio and speed skills it never seemed to matter much. By the end of the year she had only improved her time by roughly five seconds, a trend that continued until she graduated high school. It also didn't help matters that puberty had not been at all kind to her. Her previous baby fat had multiplied and solidified and, despite her mother's desperate attempts to make her only daughter beautiful again, it wouldn't go away and would stick with her late into her senior year. And, naturally, of course, all the other kids were very good and consistent in letting her know that it was her weight that made her so slow. And lazy. And worthless. And… all the other cruel things kids are known to say. So when her eleven year old self had come home in tears one afternoon and was caught by her grandfather before she could make it to the shelter of her room, he refused to release her until she came clean about what had been bothering her. And just like always when it was only him and her, she caved quickly.

He let her cry everything out, continuously wiped her tears away while she launched into the long winded speech about how horrible her life was and how it would never get any better, and cleaned up her running nose when she finished with a much too dramatic declaration that she would never, ever, in her entire life, be happy again. He helped her through it and watched it all with practiced patience and minor amusement, that she luckily was too young and distraught to catch, speckling his warm brown eyes.

When she had finally wrapped it all up and had calmed down enough to quell the hiccups that always followed when she had a big crying fit, he removed her from the knee he had had her perched upon and stood her directly in front of him so he could look her straight in the eye.

"Now you listen to me little bird. The most important thing you can do in life is try. There's nothin’ wrong in not being able to do somethin’, and no shame in havin’ to ask for help, but you have to at least try. So, whenever you feel like you can't do somethin’, or that you have nothing left to give - just hold on for 10 more seconds."

She had simply nodded along and then finally retreated to her room when he allowed her to be excused. She never would have said it, least of all to him, but it had sounded dumb to her at the time. What didn't he get? If she could hold on any longer then it wouldn't be such a problem. But then she got older and, thankfully before his sixty ninth birthday and subsequent death the day after, she realized he had only been planting the seeds for her to harvest later on in life.

And so, as she stood here now, practically dead on her feet already, her head - along with the entire world around her, it seemed - spinning so badly she couldn't even take a guess as to what was up or down and ready to just throw in the towel already, she managed to get a slight glimpse of something off to the side of her peripheral vision.

Brown eyes.

Brown eyes that were never supposed to even be here. Big, dark and oh so depending that she instantly knew. This was one of those times.

Just 10 more seconds. Hold on for just 10. More. Seconds.

With one last spurt of gas she knew she shouldn't possibly have left, she dug down with everything she could muster and pushed against her current road block with everything she had. Her whole body screamed in protest and in her mind, she let out a primal scream for survival. She was almost positive she didn't, but it sounded good and seemed like a cool mental image to motivate herself with.

Just as she began to wonder what on earth this fucking couch was made of to make it so heavy and unmoving, she heard the scraping of wood on wood just before the whole thing lurched forward against the infinitely lighter book case she had first manged to brace against the door.

She collapsed to the floor and against the side of the couch. She took only a moment then made to reposition herself, but only managed to turn slightly so that she fell back and was now resting against the wall.

She just needed to close her eyes.

Everything was so loud. Her heartbeat pounding at every pulse point, the blood rushing in her ears. It was all so deafening. She just needed it to quiet down some.

After some time, she couldn't know how long, the rushing slowed. The pounding lessened. Soon she was able to start catching hints of other things. Her ragged breathing. The hungry growls from the walkers that were still digging and clawing to get in. Then, just barely but there all the same, soft shuffling. It was that sound that called for her to reopen her eyes.

Brown. That's what she was met with. The familiar, warm brown eyes that were big and staring as always. Her vision was really starting to cloud heavier at the edges now and she couldn't help but to wonder if perhaps she was already dead, the way he seemed to just stare straight through her. But then his hand came up, clutching the same damn yellow hanky he was never without, and slowly started to wipe at the blood that had gushed from her nose and stained over her lips as it seeped down. There were other places. So many other places. But this was the area that seemed to cause him the most concern and it was that little bit of comforting touch that finally allowed her to release her breath.

They were fine. They were safe. For now only, maybe, but that was all that mattered. They just needed some time. Time to sort things out. Time to reevaluate. Time to just...be.

She wasn't even aware that her head had lolled off to the side. She wasn't aware of the concerned brown eyes that followed the movement.She just needed a minute. Just a few minutes to rest up. That's all.

Just 10 more seconds.

[enjolrasesque]

random Jason Todd headcanons because he's living in the backrooms of my brain like an ever-haunting phantom that feeds on my life energy

☆ when he got resurrected, he looks deathly pale + white as a ghost so he learned how to use makeup to make himself look like an actual living, breathing human being (yes he has a lip combo to hide his bluish lips)

this led him to a deep dive about self-care which in turn led him to getting a 10 step hair and skin care routine and a well-curated wardrobe (all in an attempt to feel alive)

☆ he's always cold to touch, in the same thought, he himself doesn't feel the cold that much

☆ is attractive but not in the conventional way (like Bruce or Dick for example) but in a unique face way

and no idgaf that one comic that says he's ugly

☆ underneath all that paraphernalia and muscle, he has a baby face

☆ his favorite author is not Jane Austen (she's definitely one of his most liked but not the favorite), his favorites lean more to what people would brand as pretentious like Kafka, Dostoevsky, Marquez, Steinbeck, etc.

with that said, he dislikes George Orwell

☆ White girl music Jaosn this, classical music Jason that... I raise you, Jason Todd whose 96% of playlist is the local indie music scene in Gotham

☆ he's a theater kid so he can sing really well... BUT when he does karaoke with ppl he bullshits his way through it; so if someone hears him actually singing normally they're surprised (he sings while beating up criminals)

goon 1: do you hear that?

goon 2: hear what?

red hood grappling to their way: SO IF YOU CARE TO FIND ME LOOK THROUGH THE WESTERN SKY—

☆ he loves films but his favorites are definitely not a film bro's top 4 letterboxd but more like Jennifer's Body, Mean Girls, Promising Young Woman, Gone Girl, Black Swan, kind of thing

☆ everyone says he'll be a literature major in college but I disagree! He'll 100% be in STEM courses, specifically medicine (is spiting Bruce the reason? we'll never know). He'll be the type of guy in college whose into everything—student leader, into socio-cultural orgs, theater, campus newspaper, etc.—but also he has either one friend or a very small friend group despite all his extracurriculars

☆ he writes in cursive! Declaration of Independence-ahh handwriting

☆ the ppl of Crime Alley loves him (although this is a very common hc), especially the kids, he's the resident cool older brother that the kids don't want to disappoint

[cultofdixon]

In a past life it was yours, the present is mine

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • At the line up it was revealed your family history, in the future it won’t be used against you, but for now? You have to change the problem from the inside out or all those you love will perish • ANGST/SFW • TW: Past Mental Abuse / PTSD / Trauma / Anxiety / Canon Violence / Depression • Canon re-written

Requested by: Anon

“Well, let’s meet the man shall we?” The right hand to the mystery man says with a smirk as he approaches the RV.

The archer turns to his other half seeing her keep a calm exterior even if the inner feelings spilled in tears.

I’ll always keep you safe Y/N Daryl mouths to her watching her nod smiling through the tears as both of their attention snapped back to what’s in front of them.

As the tension grew in the woods and the creek of the RV door opens followed by whistling that drove chills down their backs. The man stepped out and instantly locked eyes with the archer’s partner, standing there for too long as neither of them said a word. Until a smirk brought itself on his face as he grabs his right hand by the collar pulling him close to tell him something.

Then you know the rest…

As Negan drags Rick into the RV after killing two of their own. Abraham and Glenn. The right hand that is named Simon approaches the group as the vehicle disappears.

“Take the girl” Simon states watching two saviors come up behind Y/N grabbing her by the arms. “Take the hits and scratches, guys. She’s just a little thing anyway”

“Wait WAIT!” Maggie yells watching her friend getting taken as Daryl tried rising to his feet again when Dwight hit him in the back of the head with the blunt end of his crossbow.

Y/N froze watching such as it made it easier to drag her body to one of the trucks. The bigger man out of the two practically tossed her into the back of the van and was immediately pistol whipped by Simon.

“Best I do somethin’ before boss man puts a bullet in your head” Simon scoffs shutting the doors after pushing the guy of the way. “Take her back to the Sanctuary. She don’t need to see what else the man’s gotta do”

And with that the van left, leaving the group confused…Maggie hurt even further and Daryl livid. They didn’t understand why Negan ordered such to happen. Hell they don’t even know when that was ordered. His hushed side conversations were so short because he had other business to attend to.

How…how could he

How could he do this

To me

The drive was long, at least it felt like such. Y/N didn’t know where she was going or who else she would be dealing with but during the unknown period she simply cried. Cried over her deceased family and over the fear of losing the man she loves.

Soon the doors to the back opened and no one was forcing her out of the vehicle until a blond woman came. She grabbed Y/N by the arm and let the girl scratch at her or try to pull away but the grip she had on her? Good luck.

“Where are you taking me?!”

Nothing

“I demand to know!”

Again, nothing

“What is he going to do to my family?!” Y/N snaps before getting shoved in a room as the woman stood at the door a second.

“Family? This is your family, dollface” and the door shut, locking from the other side.

Y/N immediately went toward the door and started pounding against it, screaming out for anyone to let her out. Then she started to look for something to pick the lock with but as she searched the room she was in…it took a second to realize it was a room and not a cell. She decided to look around in hopes she’d find something to help her escape.

Instead she was met with her past.

How come yea never talk about your old life?

I told you a lot. What specifically?

Everybody’s got a family. You never said anythin’ bout that

Guess I’m just. Never ready to talk about it

I don’t think I’ll ever be, even now Y/N frowns holding a picture frame in her hands and the sound of keys jingling startled her to grab something heavy.

When the door opened and Negan stepped through, he quickly dodged the jar of pickles Y/N had grabbed as it hit one of his saviors behind him instead of him.

“Still got a hell of a throw”

Nothing

“How long have yea been with these people?” Negan asks watching her tense and retract at every step he took, inevitably stopping. “You have no idea how long I’ve been lookin’ for you” he snapped for one of his own to close the door to give them more privacy as Y/N immediately shoved him away.

“Why”

“Listen—-“

“WHY!” She yelled loud enough for those standing outside the door, even if the walls were thick. “WHY DID YOU BECOME THIS MONSTER?!”

“Princess, please—-“

“No! You killed my best friend. You don’t get to ‘princess’ me, dad. You took me away from my family…you killed those of MY FAMILY”

“IM YOUR FUCKING FAMILY” Negan finally yells back in her face watching her cower, making him step back taking in the sight to memory. “I’m your blood. You’re my daughter and my family. At least what’s left of it”

“I was your bastard child when you were a teenager…you only cared cuz I got stuck in your care. Then you met Lucille and I was already out of the house…you cut the line there. You moved on but even then…you still went back to your old ways.” Y/N frowns feeling the tears roll off her cheeks. “Now you’re just worse. A monster that put the woman you loved’s name on a bat that killed those important to me…where do you get off”

Before Negan could say another word, Dwight opened the door abruptly which was a big no-no on his part.

“Hey we got Daryl in one of the cells. What’s the next—-“

“What? WHAT” Y/N pushed Negan out of the way as he quickly grabbed at her arm only for her to pull with all her force. He tightened too hard that he heard a crack and instantly let go resulting in her shoving Dwight over like it was nothing and going through the halls.

No one was touching her

Or at least weren’t allowed to intervene

Unless she tried to escape…or help someone escape.

The banging on his cell door gave his position away as Y/N was stopped by the brute guarding his door. But she had about enough in the moment.

“Move out of my way”

“I can’t do that princess”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Or Wha—-“ He was instantly cut off by her leg swung right in between the legs hitting the family jewels hard enough for him to drop. Giving her a window to go for his knife and threaten to cut his throat open the second those chasing her approached.

“Jesus Christ. This is your blood?” Dwight scoffs stepping back every second their eyes locked.

“She’s definitely Negan’s daughter” Laura laughs at the sight watching Negan step closer not giving a single fuck if Y/N took the man’s life.

“It’s best to let him go. Wouldn’t want to be like me right?”

Y/N felt instant regret for her actions after he said such. She slowly released the knife as the guy quickly pulls away bringing himself behind Negan.

The man stood there for a while staring down at his child while his people stand behind him in fear of both Smiths. Then a pain brought itself in his chest watching her cower when he tried to simply step forward and help her up.

A small child took her place sitting there on the floor as he stood before her in his early twenties with a suitcase in one hand and a ticket in the other.

The two locked eyes and he turned around closing the door behind him. Never turning back.

“You get five minutes. But I’m not letting either of you go” Negan frowns opening the door to Daryl cell as he was about to fight whoever opened it when he saw Y/N and Negan on the other side.

The two were soon closed in the cell for privacy with a lantern for the light. Y/N frowns looking at Daryl after just telling him about who her father is and why she hasn’t told him or anybody. It’s not like she knew about his dictatorship in the old world, just knew the man as someone who wanted nothing to do with her as a child and when she became an adult he had already moved on.

“He…we gotta get out of this shithole”

“I don’t think that could happen without a window…or a bullet in one of us”

“From how he wanted yea at the line up, doubt he’d hurt yea”

“I’m not going to let him hurt you” Y/N frowns bringing herself close expecting Daryl to reject her after finding out of her bloodline.

But the archer carefully took her face into his hands wiping away the tears that suddenly sprung from her waterline.

“He may not hurt yea sunshine, but he can still break you”

Before another word could be shared, the door sprung open and Y/N was suddenly grabbed pulling her out of the cell as Daryl tried to use that as a window but was met with his own crossbow aimed at him.

“Don’t you fucking dare hurt him” Y/N thrashed against the grasp two saviors had on her as they lessen their grip when Negan glared at them. “You lay a hand on him and I will make you fucking regret taking me too”

Negan glared at his daughter before turning back to the archer and his people keep him in. He shoved Dwight back before shutting the door and locking Daryl in there. No more words were exchanged but all he did was grab Y/N by the bicep leading her to the rooms and locking her in a new one.

________

“How come yea never talked about your family?” Daryl frowns joining Y/N on the porch of their new home. “Ever since we got here you’ve been extra quiet so I’m just assumin’ what the subject matter is”

“I just. Never experienced this niceness before. Like when y’all found me in the woods outside the prison? I had just gotten lost after seeing where my dad had lived all my life without me”

The sadness grew in his expression as he noticed hers barely shift, she’s accepted it a long time ago…but the pain will always be there.

“He had me as a teenager and my mom just gave me to him then fucked off. So he struggled for four years with the help of grandma, then one day I was seated on the carpet watching him pick up a suitcase and walk out the door.” Y/N frowns hugging herself as she kept her gaze to the floor. “It’s a mess of a story. Raised by my grandma, left at 18, heard years later he remarried and didn’t care about my existence further, his wife found out about me and met me in private…then the outbreak happened later and I went to see if they were alive because I had their address for the longest time…and all there was was a house in ruins”

“I’m sorry, sunshine”

“If he’s…still out there and our paths cross…I don’t think I’d want to be on this rock anymore”

________

Daryl kept banging on his cell door for what felt like days. Granted…it was. To be real with what’s going on in Daryl’s mind, he thought he would be beaten to a pulp at this point. Or put through even worse, mental abuse of some kind.

They’ve been treating him well?

His wound

Keeping him fed

He doesn’t quite understand it until Dwight opened the cell one night to give him a sandwich and decided to talk.

“Your woman almost ripped me a new one when I tried to feed yea dog food. She’s takin’ everything like a champ though…with a dad like that.” Dwight laughs. “Everything I had of yours, she almost killed me for. But daddy will do anythin’ to get her to smile. Even if she cries most nights”

“Why the fuck are you telling me this”

“You ain’t dead because she’s doing everything Negan asks of her. Her reward? We don’t hurt you” Dwight states before making his leave and shutting the door forcefully behind him.

Y/N laid in the bed given to her, in the room made just for her. She kept staring at the ceiling dressed in a black dress that someone pointed out was made for pointing out Negan’s wives. But that was shot down by Simon who was assigned to keep her at the Sanctuary and to be honest? Neither of them were happy about it.

“Yo! Princess, boss man wants yea” Simon knocks on the door as Y/N sighs bringing herself to the edge of her bed slipping her boots on before leaving the room.

The two walked to the conference like room and found a head on the table, an anxious Dwight, and an angry Negan.

“Good luck princess” Simon whispers to Y/N, leaving the room laughing.

The annoyance on her face grew, but immediately changed to anger and worry.

“Daryl escaped” Negan snapped the second he locked eyes with his kid. “Who did it.”

“I’ve been with you and in my room almost every hour of every day. Your GOON here doesn’t let me anywhere near Daryl’s fucking cell. Even when he’s not on watch” Y/N gave back the same energy her dad was producing. “You’re always so controlling of everyone around here but what happens when your eyes aren’t glued on your fucking prisoner. He escapes on his GODDAMN OWN”

In a split second, with no thinking before actions made, Negan grabbed her by the throat and forced her against the wall as the thud echoed in the room but the alarming sound was the crack that came from her skull when she made contact. Tears instantly started to stream down her cheeks as she held onto his wrist feeling his grip loosen while her eyes slowly fluttered open after the impact made them shut tight.

Daddy please don’t go

The leader of the saviors suddenly pulled away making her drop to her knees as she instantly pressed her hand to the back of her head noticing the blood on her hand when she retracted.

“You’re just…the same fucking monster…I’ve always known” Y/N sobbed through broken words as Negan towered her unable to move or breathe for the matter. Dwight looked at him a bit confused but a wave of concern came over him as he brought himself to Y/N not caring if she protested.

“Come on. We’ve got a doc” Dwight helped her to her feet directing her out of the room, glancing back to see Negan in his frozen state.

“Daddy please don’t go” The four year old cried hugging onto her father’s leg as Negan drags her agaisnt the carpet before forcefully shaking his leg to get her to fall on her butt.

The tears broke out as she sat on the carpet right in front of the main door.

“I…I can’t do this” Negan frowns picking up his suitcase after slipping on his jacket. “I never should’ve had you”

The pout that grew on the little one’s face as the tears streamed down her cheeks while no more sound escaped her.

“I never should’ve left you…” Negan whispers to himself while his own tears rolled off his cheeks.

It’s been days with nothing going on…nothing…not even a visit from his saviors to communities they have under their thumbs. If you were new to one? You wouldn’t be able to tell they were controlled by someone unless somebody told you. But even then, they didn’t collect every other week. Didn’t threaten anymore people.

Nothing happened. Then the radio gave off receiving static.

“Rick. We gotta talk”

Rick looks at his radio with concern before looking across the table at his partner as Michonne shared the same concern but was also littered with confusion and doubt. This could be a trap of some sorts.

While Negan may have done nothing. The group had gotten to work on lessen the Savior population (once Daryl returned) by attacking more outposts with the help of the Kingdom, the Hilltop, and few Oceanside…it was top priority while certain few wanted to get their person back.

“He could’ve killed her by now” Daryl frowns sitting with Maggie on the steps of the Barrington House as they all decided it be smart for him to stay there in case if they did look for him.

“She’s his daughter. He wanted her, I doubt he would’ve killed her…but something still could’ve happened” Maggie didn’t mean to plant anything in Daryl’s mind, granted he was already thinking of such, but it was overwhelming. When Daryl returned and Negan’s first visit to Alexandria, everyone Y/N was close to found out that she’s Negan’s daughter. It brought a lot of mix feelings but even with certain negative ones, everyone collectively agreed they wanted to get her back safely.

“Daryl…you think that Rick would hurt her?”

“What.” Daryl says sternly noticing how calm and collected Maggie presented herself after saying such.

“From what you’ve told me, Y/N and her father are estranged. He didn’t raise her. She’s nothing like him. It’s just…instead of running with fear, Rick is turning back to that scary version of himself when we first came to Alexandria.” Maggie frowns her finger tips gently brushing her barely showing pregnant belly. “I’m afraid of him hurting her indirectly. To be fair…when I found out, I wanted to do exactly that. But then I remember she’s this outgoing person who’s super smart and an amazing listener to every single concern a person may have…she doesn’t even have to know you long to care so deeply about you…she’s nothing like this monster but he will hurt her and Rick will break some part of her”

While all of such happened, the Sanctuary sort of collapsed within itself once Negan disappeared. He just left without a word and Simon tried taking his place but then the people that Negan tortured under his boot for so long, started to fight back finally. Y/N watched it all unfold while packing up her stuff and planning her route out but it came clear to those die hard followers that she’s something that can bring him back.

Which he was planning to do while he stood in the old outpost, the first one the group attacked that led to their deaths. Negan sighed when Rick didn’t immediately come into view but once he did, he wasn’t alone. He didn’t have the whole group or those who’ve lost their partners. All he needed was Michonne and his son Carl. Knowing they’d keep him centered.

“If this is a trap, the others know to come rain hellfire on—-“

“The Sanctuary is currently imploding. None of’em like Simon and won’t follow him. Whatever you want to do to me, I’ll let yea do. As long as you don’t punish her for my actions”

Carl’s expression softened hearing such as he didn’t think about that. His dad was just mad and terrified of what else could happen since Negan hasn’t done anything to them. Little do they know the shit he’s been putting his kid through mentally, and the few times physically that one would think she endured it all for her family.

“Dad. This seems…like the truth, but we still need to be careful”

“You should listen to the kid.” Negan states only for Rick to take that moment and right hook him making him stumble a bit as Michonne quickly pulled Rick back knowing he was about to do more. “I deserved that”

“You deserve a whole lot worse”

“And I’m telling you…” The man straightens himself up brushing the blood from his busted lip on the back of his hand. “Do whatever you want to me”

Before Rick could get to say his response, Carl stepped in front of him to physically cut him off.

“Why? Why are you rolling over on your back now? After you killed Glenn…killed Abraham…killed all those people just to gain superiority but we just…” Carl couldn’t connect the dots, even if they were right there, guess part of him wanted him to say it.

“I hurt her.” Negan stated watching all of them tense. “I hurt my daughter. I tried so hard to get some fuckin’ relationship back after what I’ve done in the past. But the present was never mine. Then I really hurt her…for something someone else did, and I could’ve killed her…I’ll do whatever yea want me to do, and let you do whatever you want to me…for her promised safety”

________

Daryl sat on the porch checking his bike after they had gotten it back from the outpost. He felt her presence and felt it when Y/N brought her arms around his waist.

“You alright?”

“You know, whatever happens with whatever comes next…I’d always choose you”

The archer brought himself to turn toward her so he could wrap his arms around her kissing the top of her head whispering again asking if she was okay. She was.

________

She will always want to be in his arms.

Y/N stood outside the Sanctuary or what it used to be as people left…communities took people in, die hard followers were skeptical but given a second chance, Simon ran off, and she stayed at the place that kept her mentally beaten. But with her father, the Grimes (minus Jude), Daryl, Maggie, the king Ezekiel, Cyndie from Oceanside, and those who wanted to witness Negan get punished.

People wanted him dead. Rick wanted him to rot. So a bit of both happened. Y/N watched Rick put all his anger out on Negan and every punch made her flinch. She felt the tears come but no sound escaped her. Maggie brought herself to the other side of her friend while Daryl was on the other. She carefully took her hand into hers feeling her squeeze.

He’s a monster. He did all this horrible things and even with a good like…getting rid of it all…the pain was still there but so was the child from before the hell.

Michonne grabbed Rick’s shoulder when she thought Negan had enough but she also had enough of her friend watching her partner beat up her father.

“Patch’em up” Rick scoffs turning away from Y/N knowing if he looked at her, the regret will build. The new doc that his son found on a walk in the woods, Siddiq, took care of patching up Negan while Gabriel and Aaron tied him up taking him back to the cell that Morgan had made.

It was late in the night when Daryl felt the emptiness beside him and decided to get up looking for his partner who simply sat on the steps leading to the main floor. Her tired eyes said it all as he wished she had woken him to the nightmare she endured alone. He brought himself to sit beside Y/N as she flinched when he tried to check the bandage that was on the back of her head. The doc at the Sanctuary had to shave a part to get stitches in there after…yknow.

“Does it still hurt?”

“Yeah…”

“No…I mean, does it still hurt” Daryl frowns watching her tears build up as she continued to hug her knees to her chest hiding her face feeling him bring his arm around her. “You should’ve never had to deal with that shit, and shouldn’t have seen what happen”

“I couldn’t…let him hurt you or my family…I just…the words won’t come out clear in my mind…I just couldn’t lose anymore”

Daryl watched her unravel as he didn’t let her go bringing her into his embrace and into his lap. Holding her desperately close as Y/N latched onto his person afraid they’d fall apart if she let go.

________

“You can have everythin’ and you still choose him?”

Y/N frowns looking at her father after she was forced to put on the outfit given to her. She looks around at the room surrounding her before locking eyes with the man that helped bring her into this world.

“He fixed what you broke” She states crossing her arms and holding her ground. “He didn’t have to, hell I did my best to keep my past to myself. But he loves me, protects me, makes me feel wanted…”

Negan wanted to speak but watched her hold her hand up to shut him up.

“I will always choose Daryl Dixon, over every man on this god forsaken planet”

[soupmanspeaks]

rip post bite reaper!Michael, you would probably comfort a dying bird on the side of the road

[lady-phasma]

Happiness at the end of the world

Chapter 1 of ?

Daryl Dixon x OFC

Warnings: 18+ MDNI; this is really different than anything I have ever shared on Tumblr before - it's fluffy and has lots of feelings and quite a few warnings; Smut, Kinda Friends to Lovers, Bathing/Washing, Awkward Flirting, Not Canon Compliant, No PTSD in chapter 1 (mentions of past abuse in later chapters), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Demisexual Daryl Dixon, p in v sex, Fingering, Choking, ultra-Light Dom/sub

Summary a/n: Making friends in Alexandria is easier than on the road, which also means friendships can evolve and become something more if the connection is there. There's definitely a connection. Non-canon compliant because I don't ship him with Leah. (I think this is my longest fic, probably because this has been cooking for the full 11 years of TWD.) No beta. 9k words.

Daryl opened the door to the small “apartment” he lived in. Not really an apartment as much as the finished basement of one of the original surviving homes. Dog ran in first, pushing past his legs before the door could open fully. He watched as Dog started licking and nuzzling something on the couch. Dog wasn’t warning him but Daryl was always cautious and set his crossbow down gently as he closed the door and grabbed his knife from his belt all in one swift movement.

No one in Alexandria locked their doors, most of them probably didn’t have the keys to the houses anymore if they had ever had them at all. That meant that people didn’t trespass either. It was an unspoken rule made from mutual respect. Even in the faint light coming through the curtained garden windows he could tell this was a someone just not who. He started to relax a little but still held his knife as he turned on a lantern. Dog whined as the head on the couch turned and sniffed and groaned.

“Tha hell,” Daryl almost yelled it. “Dog, sit! What tha hell’re you doin’ here?” He stepped closer to the couch and sat on the coffee table. Eye level with Kristina as she sat up bleary-eyed and disheveled.

“Ya ain’t gotta yell,” she said as she rubbed her eyes open. Her short hair was sticking up all over on the side that had been on the pillow. “Anyway you’re the one that’s late.”

Daryl grunted and put the lantern on the coffee table. Kristina swung her feet onto the floor to make room on the couch for him.

“Ain’t late for nuthin’,” he grumbled as he stood up. He took his vest off and draped it over a chair followed by his belt and all the attachments. He even put his knife on the side table before sitting down on the couch.

“Well you’re late getting back is what I mean,” she said as he sat. “You were out on a run and gone longer than I thought. Find anything good?”

“Nah,” he answered. “Same as most days, ‘bout nuthin’ left here. Why’re ya here?”

“Because…” she let out a sleepy little yawn “you said that we should hang out today but then I remembered I don’t have a calendar and I don’t know what day it is so if you said Friday maybe it’s Monday and I’m the late one.” She chuckled a little at her own nonsense and that made Daryl scoff or grunt or whatever that noise was that he makes when something is slightly humorous.

She lifted her sock clad feet and a portion of blanket up onto the couch, almost in his lap but not quite. She tucked her cold toes between his leg and the couch cushion as she leaned back on the arm of the couch and looked at him.

“You had a hard day, huh?” she tried but he rarely took the bait. She was feeling him out, trying to get the sense of his mood.

Daryl shook his head just a tiny bit then shot her a side glance briefly before looking down at his hands again. He appeared to be missing the “armor” of having his pocket knife to clean his nails to avoid eye contact.

“We’ve been friends awhile,” she leaned up and hugged her knees. “Not as long as some but a while, right? So you should know by now I’m not asking as your therapist, hell I don’t even need full and complete sentences!” The half of his face she could see shifted into a slight grin at this. She desperately wanted to reach out and move the hair back from his face but they weren’t those friends.

“Yeah,” he spoke this more than grunted so that was progress.

Kristina really wanted to be more than friends with him but had never pushed him, would never. She was so curious about him. There was only so much you could learn about someone if they didn’t talk. She knew his relationship with Carol was particularly special because they had spent so many months living out there and they didn’t always need words to communicate. Trauma bonds will do that to people. She really wasn’t his therapist. She functioned as one in Alexandria for most people but never for him unless he asked. She didn’t want him to. She wanted him to need her for other things. She had been through a lot of shit when the world fell apart, made some unpleasant choices. She had survived. She didn’t want him to be her therapist either but she had shared some of the milder parts of her past with him as a kind of proof to him that she wasn’t soft or, rather, that being here hadn’t made her soft. She hadn’t told him everything but she probably would eventually, if he let her.

“Com’on, I have an idea, and don’t argue,” she said as she stood up. Stood up so quickly in fact that she startled Dog who had been nearly asleep next to the couch. “No whining either, just trust me.”

“I don’t whine,” he said, looking up at her and suppressing a bit of a grin. She smiled widely at him but let him win that one. She reached down and grabbed his hands and feigned pulling him up weakly. He conceded and stood up.

She led him by one hand through the small area he called a bedroom (truly an alcove with a mattress on the floor but whatever) and into the bathroom. She barely heard his “huh?” as they walked in. He was tired but he was also filthy. Alexandria’s electricity was mostly out but their cisterns kept water pressure pretty strong as long as everyone wasn’t opening their taps at the same time. She closed the toilet lid and pushed his shoulders down as a signal to sit. He actually didn’t argue.

First, Kristina plugged the tub drain, then she turned on the hot tap and ran the water over her inner wrist testing its temperature. She wasn’t optimistic but what was in the hot water tank had stayed pretty warm. Some of the solar electricity must be working during the day. She ran the water into the tub until it ran almost cold. Looking at the amount and scowling she turned around to look at Daryl and raised an eye brow. He was watching her intently. She blushed a little. He couldn’t read her mind thank god because she had only glanced at him to assess water displacement and how full the tub needed to be for comfort and at that moment thought about him without his clothes on. Naked Daryl, my, well that would be different. She shook her head and looked back at the tub.

The water was cooling off so she instructed him to “stay right there, just a sec” and bounded through to the kitchenette for a pan and a sterno can. When she returned to the bathroom she looked around and realized the best place for the sterno was on the toilet lid but Daryl was still where she had told him to stay.

“Ugh, what now?!” he grumbled.

“Get up! Laws of thermodynamics and all that means your water’s coolin’ off, so I’m going to do this and you get undressed,” she bossed at him while setting up her burner and pan.

“No, wha?” he blustered “Uhn-uh, nope.”

“Oh you big baby, just do it,” she teased, she made sure the teasing was evident in her tone. Once she had filled the pan with water and sat it over the flame she turned to see what she had expected: Daryl pressed so hard against the opposite wall that he might just sink into it, with all his clothes on.

Kristina giggled a very girlish giggle, something she rarely ever had occasion to do in her 30s but damn he was endearing. He looked up at her with those eyes and through his filthy hair and she couldn’t stop herself. Walking slowly as if toward a cornered wild animal she made the couple of steps to him. She slowly reached out her hand and put it on one of his, slid it around so they were palm to palm.

“Look, you don’t have to,” she soothed. “But the water is warm, I’ll add some more hot as fast as it heats so you don’t get cold. I won’t see anything you don’t want me to and anyway, when did you last bathe? That wasn’t in a creek?”

His grin was reply enough to that and was a very sincere grin. He nodded slightly and she let go of his hand.

She tested the water in the tub again, nodded to herself, and tested the water that had been heating while they talked and sucked in a sharp breath when she felt the hot water hit the tips of her fingers. She grabbed a towel to hold the pan’s handle and gradually mixed in the heated water with that in the tub. She filled the pan again from the sink. It probably wouldn’t take many more of these to make it comfortable. She waited, looking at the pan of water on the flame as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world because she didn’t dare turn around.

At first she had only heard the soft swooshes of shirt fabric as he began to get undressed. Then she had heard one boot, then the next, thump onto the tile floor. The next sounds were out of context so she could only imagine what was happening while staring at this incredibly interesting pan of water. She heard Daryl’s bare feet make a few steps on the floor and then a hand moved past her to grab a bath cloth off the rack.

“Scuse me,” he said very close to her ear. All of the muscles in her neck froze to keep her from pivoting to see how much progress he had made.

“Yeah, of course,” she replied. Except she kind of croaked the words out and had to clear her throat a bit. She decided to test the water.

“Shit! Okay well that’s hot enough.” she yelped. “So I need to pour this in and I can’t do it with my eyes closed so if you don’t want me to see something, whatever, cover it in 3… 2… 1….” She turned slowly looking mostly at the pan and the floor then the tub. But she knew she would look at him once she started pouring. Who wouldn’t?

Daryl stood looking mostly at his feet but not cowering or shy like she had expected. It occurred to her that he probably bathed naked or just in his underwear out in the woods but there just wasn’t anyone to see him. So in this small room the only things that were modest were his gaze and using the bath cloth like a loin cloth. He was tan but also very dirty and she was pretty sure this one bath wouldn’t be enough but he could deal with that tomorrow.

“Okay, I think it’s ready for you but I’m going to heat at least one more pan,” she said far too quickly, almost making one word from them all and turned to the sink to refill it.

“Uh, thanks,” he said from behind her. Then the water in the tub made a sloshing sound and then another. There was some squeaking on porcelain, presumably his hands on the sides as he lowered himself in, and that mental image was actual the first one that consciously made her flush and feel the tug between her legs. She had thought Daryl sexy very, very many times and had probably had this normal, biological reaction to him many times, but this was different. This time was not brief or from her own imaginings. She took a deep breath and relished it.

Daryl sighed and then inhaled sharply. He went all the way under the water, coming up sputtering and smiling to himself a bit. She noticed the shampoo on a high shelf and, without looking, sat it near the tub so he could reach it.

“You good on soap?” she asked the pan of water.

“M’fine,” he said. “You don’t hafta keep starin at that water. I’m in now, won’t embarrass ya.”

Kristina looked over at him and the blush rose from her cheeks to her hairline. Shit, yup, Daryl was now Naked Daryl. She didn’t stare at any one place and after making eye contact briefly she put her gaze on the floor. Mostly out of respect. She decided she could sit on the bath mat and keep an eye on the heating water without feeling like an interloper. He didn’t tell her to leave and it didn’t occur to her to leave but there was more water heating so she’d stay until that pan was finished.

He sighed and leaned his head back, dipping his hair into the water again. She had seen some of his scars before but he still kept most of them out of view. She had a clear view of one on his chest she had only glimpsed before through an open shirt or when he changed quickly out of blood and dirt covered clothes. She desperately wanted to touch each of them. She equally didn’t want to get caught staring though she was pretty sure he already knew she was.

She tested the temp of the water on the sterno and it felt hot enough. Maybe he would ask her to leave and that would be that and she’d wait with Dog in the living room. She blew out the sterno flame and he opened his eyes, looking at her sideways without moving his head. Now the only light source was the small lantern. The sudden semi-darkness had surprised them both.

“Uh, do you want me to, um, or you can if you’d rather,” she stumbled through that question without finishing. “I don’t want to burn you. How’s the water?” She wanted to sew her mouth shut. Wow that was embarrassing.

“You can if ya want,” he answered as he closed his eyes. “I trust ya. Water’s good. Thanks again. Ya knew I’d just go to bed smellin like the woods.”

“Like the woods for starters and dead things and dirt and Dog. He needs a bath soon too!” she was able to tease unselfconsciously again in the dimmer light. She couldn’t see anything below the surface of the water, not that she was looking, but that made them both less tense it seemed. Like he were less naked.

Kristina turned to pick up the sterno can and take it and the pan to the kitchenette when she felt his hand lightly on her wrist.

“Don’t go,” he whispered without looking up.

She placed everything on the sink and went to sit on the bathmat again, this time she put her back against the tub wall, facing away from him, and hugged her knees to her chest. They sat in silence like that for some time. She really did cherish that he enjoyed silence. The world before had been so loud that it made her anxious. Now the sounds of walkers was almost constant depending on your location. Any silence when you were able to be unguarded was sacrosanct.

She heard the water sloshing gently behind her and smelled the mingled odor of the outdoors with the floral soap and smiled. He would definitely feel better and sleep better.

“Hey, could ya do one more a’ those?” he asked in a low whisper trying not to disturb their silence too much. Wordlessly she set everything up, lit the sterno, they both squinted at the extra light, and filled the pan. She sat back in her exact spot on the bath mat.

At first her brain lagged and didn’t know how her arm got wet. She felt the warm water on her upper arm before she felt his fingers. Then his fingers went up under her t-shirt sleeve and back down, up then down. So slowly that she almost shivered and she did make the smallest moan then clenched her jaw tight so no other sound could escape. He was so guarded against the world that touching someone seemed impossible. She had analyzed that from afar for a while now, not infrequently. But the part of her brain trained in analysis wasn’t in control at the moment. Right now she just wanted to feel this. When she leaned to check the water somehow, not intentionally on her part, his fingers grazed the side of her breast. She hitched in a small breath. She was pretty sure he had been looking at her and aimed that last touch.

The water was hot enough so she blew out the sterno and turned, still on her knees, with the pan ready to pour in the hot water. His blue eyes glinted in the dim light as he watched her. He was beautiful like that. Strong, lean, hair wet against his head, muscular arms on either side of the tub, amazingly unselfconscious. Just waiting on her. She nearly dropped the pan when he quirked up one corner of his mouth.

“Whasa matter with you?”he asked.

“Nuthin’,” she muttered. She started gently pouring the water into the tub and unconsciously glanced at him under the water. The bath cloth was strategically placed and she relaxed a little. Then she knelt next to the bath and swallowed hard.

“Well, I’ll let ya get on with it,” she told him. “You probably need two or three good scrubbin’s and your hair. Do you sleep in mud?!” Her hand was halfway to smooth back his hair before she realized it. She followed through and pushed a lock back from his cheek. He didn’t look at her.

“Nah,” he replied and cupped both his hands full of water and swept it over his head. He sunk down into the tub just a bit, knees poking out of the surface now. “An’ don’t go.” His eyes were closed as the water ran down his face.

“Okay,” Kristina replied. “So whatcha wanna do, talk?” She laughed a little and she noticed the corners of his mouth twitched up at that. She enjoyed teasing him because he knew his own idiosyncrasies and wasn’t embarrassed around her… most of the time.

Daryl started fiddling with the soap and cloth nervously and unproductively. He seemed to finally realize he was naked. He looked over at her watching him. It was a good thing his face was flushed from the warm water or she would see him blush.

“Lord, why am I even in here then?” she asked exasperatedly. She snatched the bottle of shampoo from the side of the tub, anxiety forcing her to do something. “Sit up.”

He did as he was told while she put some shampoo on her hands. She started out gently and then the absolute mess of his hair distracted her from her nerves. She had never washed a grown man’s hair before in her life and had not planned this but now that she was doing it she wondered a bit about why he was letting her. She had her suspicions about his experience with women and understood his shyness. But this felt out of character at the moment, out of character for both of them.

She scrubbed at the tangles and grumbled. “Dunk,” she commanded. He did. She added a bit more shampoo and massaged it in. From the corner of her eye she saw him start to actually use the bath cloth to clean his face, neck, arms. His arms. Her breath hitched a little at the sight of his bare biceps.

She rose up on her knees to get better leverage on this mess and her breast pressed into his shoulder. The water soaked through her t-shirt and bra. She tried to continue with the task at hand but both of them had frozen for a moment, keenly aware of the contact. She didn’t pull away. She decided to appear to ignore it, maybe it would be a signal to him. She took advantage of the accident and pressed a little more against him. He made a sound like quietly clearing his throat. She smiled to herself a little.

When she was satisfied that his hair was as clean as it would be this time she told him to rinse. She sat back on her heels as he sunk under the water and ran his fingers through his hair. He came up sputtering and immediately shook his head like a dog, spraying her and the bathroom with water. She laughed and instinctively shoved his shoulder.

“Hey! Not fair,” she played but her hand lingered a bit longer than intended.

Daryl scoffed, that small laugh of his. He leaned back and started working the soap in his hands. Still avoiding eye contact. What on earth is he thinking, she wondered. The longer this stretched out the more she began to feel things, things she wasn’t sure she was supposed to feel. She had always been bold with men but most weren’t as… as what? delicate? as he was. Timid might be the more accurate word. She couldn’t just grab him and drag him to his bed even if that’s ultimately what he was trying to get her to do. So she stood up and perched on the edge of the tub. She held out her hand. He looked up at her slowly from her hand, up her arm, to her face, questioning.

“Gimme,” she said. “Soap and cloth.” Neither of them broke eye contact as he put them in her hand. Their fingers grazed.

She had never done this before and felt a very awkward. She wasn’t judging him for wanting this, she could probably psychoanalyze why he wanted her to, but she was trying to enjoy it for him. If she was tense he would pick up on it. He was too perceptive not to.

Kristina wet the cloth and her hands in the water next to his legs, extra careful not to touch him. She tried to exhale as quietly as possible. She slid closer to the end of the tub and positioned herself almost behind him. She pressed her fingertips on his shoulders, indicating she wanted him to lean forward. He did but he kind of crumpled and drew his knees up and rested his arms and head on them. She really had never seen all of his scars and tattoos. He kept them hidden. She gently started washing the back of his neck, then she realized she would actually have to scrub. She was honestly embarrassed, more than he was it seemed.

Her mind was racing as she washed down his shoulders and back. All these thoughts and at the forefront was the idea that he knew exactly how uncomfortable this made her. Dixon could be that manipulative? Nah. she argued with herself. She scrubbed a bit too hard over a recent bruise and he pulled away and hissed air through his teeth.

“Sorry, shit,” she said and laid her bare palm on the bruise. He softened a bit with that but didn’t speak. She slowly finished what she could reach and then pulled back on his shoulder for him to lean back. She rinsed and re-soaped the cloth and decided to be a little bold, test his intentions a bit. His eyes were closed so she started on his neck and down his shoulder, bicep, to the water’s surface. She retraced her path and then moved the cloth slowly down his chest. His eyes fluttered but he didn’t move. She wanted to feel the hair and the scars on him with her bare hand but it was too soon to drop this ridiculous pretense.

She leaned across to reach his other shoulder deliberately pressing her breasts against him. He did move a little then. A kind of shrug, not to move away but to reciprocate. She wiped the cloth down his other arm and then slowly sat back up. She cleared her throat a bit more loudly than she intended. In the silence of the bathroom it almost echoed.

Daryl opened his eyes and looked at her. She just couldn’t put her hands under the water. She panicked and dropped the cloth. She stood up, didn’t quite run from the room but almost. She was out so quickly that she left the door open behind her. She leaned against the wall in his bedroom and exhaled, shaking all over. Nope, I did not just do that, she thought. She had. She had fled. Whatever he was doing, on purpose or not, was too much for her. She heard the drain start in from the bathroom. A few more noises and then Daryl was in the doorway, the towel wrapped low on his hips.

“Thas how it is, huh?” he had a great poker face.

“Mmmm,” was the best she could muster in front of his defined muscles. She felt herself shake her head side to side without meaning to. God how she wanted to start babbling and explaining and deflecting but also not do those things and just let this play out how he wanted.

He walked toward her. So big and silent. He could look menacing if he tried but his face was always kind to her. His hair was tousled and in his eyes again. Unph. She almost made that sound out loud. Instead she tucked her bottom lip between her teeth and bit down. His eyes caught on that movement while he took the few steps to her. She could feel the heat coming off him, he was so close to her. He smelled wonderful, not entirely clean as she suspected. She could smell him.

There was no way he was doing this, being the opposite of shy with her. He looked down at the wet spots on her shirt. He started to touch her hand but only hovered next to it then let his drop to his side. He started talking, mumbling, toward the floor.

“Dunno, it’s dumb,” he said. “Jus wanted to see if you would, ya know, do somethin.”

Wow he was so uncomfortable even after trying to seem otherwise that she ached for him and the courage he must have dug up from deep inside. Very slowly she thought she understood how he could see something incredibly awkward as an opening. Realization dawning, she smiled up at him. She would not laugh because she didn’t want to risk him ever thinking that she was laughing at him. She had to pause to choose her next words and actions carefully. He wasn’t confident enough to overtly take control but wanted it, wanted her to give in, meet him more than halfway.

“Yes, Daryl,” she almost whispered. She brushed a wet lock of hair back from his forehead and trailed her fingers down his jaw. She liked that he didn’t shave. “Yes, I would do anything but only with your consent. Probably, I’d do some things I didn’t want to,” she tipped her head in the direction of the bathroom, hopefully indicating that had been awkward for her.

“Yeah?” he almost growled, the single syllable rumbling in his chest.

“Sure,” she let her fingers move to his lips and she thought she had finally lost her mind. “Sure, just as long as I know it’s what you want.” He pulled away but not in a way that made her regret her honesty.

“Yer prolly doin that head shrinkin’ thing,” he said dubiously, inspecting her eyes for any reaction, any tale-tale sign that she would lie to him.

“Never!” she said a bit louder than she planned. “I couldn’t anyway,” she winked at him. “You’re a completely open book.” He almost laughed at this, almost. Kristina was relieved that he was great at picking up on her sarcasm.

They stood silently for nearly too long, it was almost uncomfortable. Finally Daryl took a step back. He held the towel at his waist and started to walk toward the living room. She was pretty sure he was going to put clothes on and she would miss this window, this giant window with a neon sign flashing “entrance” above it, and she’d be damned if she would miss that.

“Wait,” she grabbed the wrist of his free hand and he stopped. He didn’t turn toward to her, just froze. She stepped up behind him. Still wishing not to rush things and probably failing, she lightly touched his shoulder, a scar. He winced. She traced her finger down his spine to the top of the towel. She flattened her palm on his hip and pulled their bodies together. He was quite a bit taller than her so her head was exactly level with the space between his shoulder blades. She watched them flex, he was now holding the towel with both hands. She continued to slide her palm around him, to his stomach. He stiffened as she placed her other hand there as well and pressed her entire body into him. She hugged him tightly, waiting, hoping he would breathe and start to relax. She felt the rumble against her cheek as he sighed or moaned or whatever that sound was. He shifted and placed a hand on top of hers.

She didn’t know how long they stood there but it seemed neither of them was in a hurry to move. She did though. She gently pulled her hands back, trailed her fingers along his back in the direction she was walking, summoning him. She stood in front of the mattress on the floor and waited for him to turn around. When he did, when she knew he was watching, she started to lift her t-shirt over her head but he nearly pounced to stop her. He grabbed her hand while only her stomach was bared. He tightened the towel around his waist and hesitantly grabbed the hem of her shirt, sliding it up and off. He dropped it on the floor. His hands hovered momentarily and then he slid them down her bare arms.

Daryl stepped so close to her that they were nearly touching again. He tipped her chin up to him with his fingers. She looked at him and parted her lips slightly. He leaned down as if to kiss her but stopped with their mouths only millimeters apart. He licked his lips but still seemed unable to make up his mind. Then, suddenly, he was kissing her. Lips pressed hard together against teeth. Inexpertly but lovely. She kissed him back, desperate, but not opening her mouth further, letting him lead. She felt his tongue against her lips and the surprise ran down her spine to her clit. She encouraged him with her own. God how she wanted to press against him, hurry him.

He put a hand on the back of her head and twisted his fingers in her short hair as best he could. He didn’t pull her into him but tugged, almost pulled on her hair. He groaned into her mouth. She pushed her tongue past his lips, exploring his tongue, his mouth. She placed her hands on either side of his face hoping to help him relax his clenched jaw. It almost worked. Until it didn’t. He overthought everything and this touch startled him enough to pull back from their kiss.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I, uh, I don’t know if I can…” he trailed off. He rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. She enjoyed this for a few moments, the closeness, breathing each other in.

“That’s okay,” she said in a near whisper. “Com’on, sit down.” She sat on the mattress and leaned her bare back against the cold wall. She shivered. He slumped down next to her and the towel slipped a little, showing one of his thighs more than he might have wanted if he had noticed. She turned to look at him, not stopping herself from smoothing his hair back just a bit. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and hold him but she was pretty sure that was not what he wanted.

She pressed the side of her body up against him completely. She let her fingers slide over the back of his hand and then rest on it.

“Hey…” she whispered. When he looked at her she kissed his cheek, jaw, then his bottom lip. Using her hand to guide him she lifted his and set it gently on her breast. Her bra was still damp and her nipple was hard against his palm. He made the best sounds, this one between a grunt and a groan, and she was positive he had no idea how sexy he was when he did that. She pressed the back of his hand lightly until his fingers flexed. She arched her back. He turned toward her more fully and started to explore, edging his finger tips under the edges of her bra.

Kristina made all of her movements slow and deliberate, contorting her arms behind herself to flick open her bra. She nudged the straps down and he took the hint. His breath was warm on her chest but her nipples ached they were so hard. He sat up, leaned down, and slowly put his lips on one nipple then carefully licked at it. Her moans encouraged him. He sucked her nipple into his mouth. He caressed and kissed and licked with singular focus, adjusting based on the noises he drew from her.

Then he knelt and pulled her under him. It was strained and awkward at first. Her legs were curled under her, he held her up with a hand on her back while the other kneaded her breast. She sighed and pushed against his mouth. His hands were rough and strong. The feeling of his scruffy beard on her bare chest sent electricity through her entire body. He was perfect and a quick study. She tested putting her hands on his sides, smoothing them up his back, wrapping her arms around them to pull him closer. As she did this he started to lay her back on the bed. She straightened her legs out under him. She became acutely aware that her jeans were still on and he was mostly naked. He moved his hand from her back and cupped both of her breasts in his hands. His sharp, ragged breaths made her hips rise. She was pinned by him as he straddled her, holding her in place with his thighs. She squeezed her eyes shut harder not allowing herself to find out if his towel was still holding on for dear life. That would ruin this moment of focusing only on Daryl’s mouth and hands.

He felt her hips move and her back arch. He split his attention between her breast and finding his way to the waistband of her jeans. One handed he unbuttoned them and ripped open the zipper. She gasped a little and dug her fingers into his back. She wanted him to do everything at once, anything he decided to do next was fine by her. He slowly let her nipple slide from his lips. He began kissing her collarbones, her neck, her jaw, and then, finally her mouth. She opened her eyes to find his were open as he watched and decoded every her every move and expression. She felt his fingertips under the elastic of her panties and stayed as still as possible, kissing him harder, brushing her tongue over his lips.

She was so wet. She probably had been since he first undressed in the bathroom. He moaned into their kiss as his fingers slid between her folds and over her clit. He was learning, exploring, and taking his time. He moved his other hand to the bed beside her head to support his weight and get a better angle. He drug his finger through her wetness and up onto her belly. He started to sit up, ending the slow, delicious kiss and she lifted her head trying to keep their lips together as long as possible. His large, strong hand pushed her back, actually shoved her, onto the mattress. Her eyes went wide.

When he gripped the waist of both her jeans and panties she had to look down. He was pulling them down while he worked his way to the foot of the bed. Miraculously the towel was still on his hips but only barely. She could see how hard he was. He was basically naked and when he slipped her pants off her feet he also dropped his towel on the floor. This is happening, she thought. Holy shit. Before any more thoughts could form he was spreading her legs, opening them by her ankles. He looked at every part of her with such intensity that she wasn’t at all surprised when he kissed her calves. Then he started his way up placing kissed behind her knee, on her thigh, on the inside of her thigh. He smoothed a hand up over her hip bone and rested it firmly on her belly as he kissed the sensitive skin in the crease of her hip. It was clear he wasn’t going straight to her pussy. Her eyes were fixed on him and as soon as he was within reach she put her hands in his hair.

Daryl’s eyes shot up at her, his mouth still on her hip. For just a second he seemed to being making a decision. Then he lifted his head and grabbed her wrists, one in each of his hands. He slammed them down on the bed firmly. Message received. She pressed them down to indicate she understood. He almost smiled as he dipped his head to place more kisses on her belly and just below her breasts. Her hips moved and tilted and his hands stopped them as well, fingers digging in hard against her hip bones. She moaned. So this is it, she thought, this is what he was afraid of?

He roughly forced her legs wider apart, careful not to put his thigh where they both wanted it. He leaned over her, his knees holding her thighs open, the cool air on her pussy making her tremble. Okay not just the air. His hands were on either side of her head now. How badly she wanted to put her hands on his arms, feel his muscles, touch every part of him. He looked down at her, almost drowsily, and the groaning purring rumble started in his chest again. He kissed her fiercely, briefly.

“This good?” he asked because he had to. Not because she needed him to but he needed assurance, guidance.

“Mmmhmmm,” she mewled and her body reflexively arched and tried to roll her hips against him.

“No,” he said tonelessly. She stopped.

“This ain’t the time to say this,” he started. He licked his lips and closed his eyes, gathering courage. “But I ain’t never, I mean, well, shit.” He blushed. She started to lift her hands to comfort him, sooth him, and let them fall back to her sides. So she just tilted her head slightly and smiled.

“S’okay,” she whispered. She felt like it would be disobeying too soon if she were to touch him so she had to find the words. She licked her lips and looked directly in his eyes. “Take your time, tell me what you want, show me, we do it how you need to, kay?”

Daryl answered by sliding a hand down her body, without breaking eye contact, and slipping a finger through her wetness again. She let out a small breath and he smiled just a bit. She swallowed hard.

“May I?” she nervously asked.

He grunted assent. So she carefully slid a hand over his, lining her fingers up with his. He groaned and closed his eyes, concentrating. She used her fingers to guide him, first circling her clit then dipping lower. She gently pressed his finger into her and sighed. She slid her hand to his wrist and pushed. It had the desired effect and his finger moved deeper into her. The sounds he made were always guttural, sincere, almost feral. Maybe he had never even had his fingers in a woman. This thought made her cunt ache and she clinched around him.

“Another,” she begged.

He obliged, slipping a second finger inside her. Her hips twitched toward him. His entire body started to move as he began to fuck her with his fingers. They seemed to become aware, for the first time, of his dick pressed between them. She struggled not to push her hips down on his fingers. She wanted him to fill her and she didn’t know if he could read the signs. She spread her legs wider and moaned, almost begging wordlessly. He obliged and slid a second finger in. Certain that it was not possible for him to being enjoying this as much as she was, Kristina flushed when she opened her eyes to see him watching her. That intense focus aimed at her. Like tracking an animal, he was reading every sign available to him. He bit his bottom lip. His eyes moved over her arms by her sides, her chest rising and falling, her hips rolling, the place where their skin touched at the hip.

He ground his palm into her clit and pulled his fingers almost completely out. Then, very nearly roughly, he pushed three fingers into her. He bit his lower lip. He was using only a fraction of his strength but watching his arm working to make her feel this good made her want to grab onto it, claw and scratch at him. He really was paying close attention and curled his fingers slightly inside her. Her cunt clenched tight on him and she balled the sheets of the bed in her fists. She didn’t recognize the sounds that came out of her mouth but some of them resembled his name. Then his thumb pressed on her clit. He didn’t move it, only increased the pressure.

“Oh god Daryl,” she gasped. “I’m going to come.” She couldn’t fill her lungs with air.

He put his mouth close enough to her ear that she almost felt his lips move. “No.”

She couldn’t contain a deep groan but it wasn’t protesting, it was resignation and she tried with all of her focus to relax her grip on his fingers. She squeezed her eyes shut. She felt the mattress dip with his weight as he pressed up to be right above her, on top of her. His dick nudged at her belly and he hissed sharply. He had moved his weight to his knees to free his other hand. With it her gripped her jaw, under her chin and lifted it up. She was learning him as quickly as he was learning her. She opened her eyes. She was supposed to be looking at him, not escaping the sensations. His thumb was harder on her clit, he had more leverage with this angle. He leaned in and kissed her. This time forcing her lips apart with his tongue. He was hurried and desperate and hungry. She gave in and made room for him.

She wasn’t completely sure she had ever allowed anyone to control her like this. She was excited, thrilled, by it. The release of control, no longer making decisions, but mostly allowing him to take pleasure from her… that was flattering for lack of a better word. It made her feel sexy and uninhibited. In the past few years there hadn’t been time for those feelings. Every moment of life was filled with decisions and nothing remotely sexy. She wanted to relax and enjoy this but she was so close and it had been a while since anyone had given her an orgasm other than herself. And this was giving, if he ever allowed it this would be a helluva gift.

At almost the same moment that he pulled his mouth from hers he removed his fingers. The sudden emptiness made her gasp. He actually smiled. Still kneeling and holding her face he placed his fingers on her mouth. He inhaled deeply in an almost crude way, smelling her. He started to slowly part her lips, encouraging her to do what he wanted. She did. With her inhibitions nearly forgotten she started sucking his fingers, doing whatever this enigmatic man asked. Whatever pleased him. If she took the time to really think about it she might panic, think this was too different from some core part of her. She wasn’t going to do that. Instead she sucked his fingers deep into her throat, wanting only to pull those sounds from him. Or to finally make him grind into her, give her the friction she needed.

He took his fingers away and briefly kissed her. Then he mumbled something into her mouth.

“Huh?” she was barely able to focus. He released her chin and propped himself up, one hand on either side of her head again, and leaned in close.

“Ya want it?” he growled. She wasn’t entirely sure it was a question but she moaned and nodded emphatically.

Daryl straightened, placed a hard, heavy hand on her belly, and stared at her pussy for a moment. He wrapped his hand around his dick and began to slowly stroke. She couldn’t look away but watching made her ache. She realized his hand was on her stomach to keep her still so he could watch. He pressed harder when she started squirm and push her hips toward him.

“Uhn-uh,” he said without looking at her.

He was actually expertly rubbing the head of his dick against her clit. His sighs were deeper now. He slid his hand from her belly to her hip, nearly to her ass, and guided her to tilt and lift her hips how he wanted her. She felt exposed. Now embarrassment washed over her. Her legs were spread wide, her hips raised, and all for him, only him. So he could look at her. She could follow through and trust this or she could stop. She didn’t want to stop. She was amazed at how exciting this humiliation was, wanted to let her mind examine how much he intended to humiliate her. She was relieved when he guided her ass to rest on his thighs, her calves were trembling from the position.

Once she had relaxed and trusted him with her weight his hand went back to her belly. He stroked her clit with his thumb while also holding her down. She let out a small huff when she realized what he was doing. That made him glance up at her face. His head still tilted down but his eyes studying her behind his loose, messy hair. She wanted to pout, put on a show for him, antagonize him, but thought maybe that would come later, if they ever did this again. Instead she mouthed please and he lowered his gaze again.

His dick nudged at her pussy, sliding in just a bit but it was enough that she completely understood why he was holding her still. He’s really never done this?! her mind yelled. He pulled back almost punishing her for trying to rush. Then he started to slowly, excruciatingly slowly, slide into her. He released his grip on his dick and pushed into her until their hips met. He found her hips with his hands and pulled her closer. She didn’t know if he could go any deeper but she wanted it. Wanted all of him in her. She didn’t want this delicious slowness to end but she desperately needed him to move. Her hands pulled at the sheets using anything she could to stay still like he wanted. His eyes flicked up when he saw the movement but she didn’t notice. Her eyes were shut tightly trying to center herself.

“Kristina,” he said. A flat toneless word the way he said it but it had more meaning behind it than she had ever heard. She moaned and looked at him. He wanted needed? her to watch, to be present. He withdrew and using her hips as leverage pushed back in. He intended for her to feel every inch of his dick but was taking it slow for himself. Out nearly completely, back in tapping lightly against her cervix. This sudden, unexpected resistance was the first thing to elicit an involuntary reaction: “shit” he hissed, drawing out the word. She had always enjoyed it when her cervix was involved in sex, if it wasn’t hard pressure it was pleasant but this, this was mind altering. His exploration, his excitement combined with her inability to move and control the fucking made every sensation heightened.

Daryl was definitely exploring. He repeated the action. Out, in, pressure on her cervix. His fingers were going to leave bruises on her hips and she didn’t care. He increased his speed, shortening his strokes, lifting both of them just a little each time. His eyes had barely left the place where he disappeared inside her cunt but now he looked up to watch her breasts sway with his efforts. He leaned forward, unintentionally pushing in farther than he had yet, and ran his hands up her sides. She was liquid, pliant, and let him move her like a doll. He scooped her up with his arms under hers, hands gripping her shoulders for leverage. She was no longer in control of any part of her body and instinctively wrapped her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist. She had enough presence of mind to think he is so strong before letting her head fall into the crook of his neck. She was panting with the speed of his thrusts.

He had lifted her off the bed and into his lap and she felt small and dizzy and wonderful. There was no space between them, no room for him to pull out with each thrust. Her clit rubbed against the coarse hair on his lower belly. She couldn’t stop the rolling of her hips, clenching and unclenching around him. He kissed her neck, sometimes scraping his teeth over her skin, not quite biting. His lips brushed against her ear. One hand moved up her neck and into her hair, then back to her shoulder, lower to her ass. He was exploring, touching every part of her. She felt like he was touching her everywhere at once, inside and out.

When his hand snaked between them and his rough fingers found her nipple she started to beg and plead and warn “I’m going to come, please Daryl, oh god please.”

He breathed against her as his fingers dug into her shoulder, finding more purchase and bringing them closer together when she was sure there had been no more room. His other hand still rolling and pinching her nipple. They were both moving faster now. No difference between them, in perfect rhythm, and she noticed more than felt her fingernails dig into his back.

“Mmhmm,” he grunted. “I want ya to.”

An incoherent stream of ohfuckDarylohfuckfuck poured out of her mouth, head flung back, body arched toward him. She clamped her legs tight against his sides as her orgasm spread from her center. His arms moved to encircle her and press her breasts against his chest. She moaned with this new sensation. Groaned actually. It was going to be too much soon.

And then it was too much. His breath hitched in his chest and she felt him tense nearly every muscle in his body. His groan started deep in his chest. She wanted to feel that vibrate through her so she sat up straighter and ground her hips down onto his dick. He buried his face between her breasts and she tangled her hands in his hair.

“I’m gonna…” he tried to say through clenched teeth. “Ah baby I’m comin’. Fuck. Fu…” He crushed his face against her chest. She felt his hips jerk a few times then become still, felt his dick spasm inside her, and now she felt she could sooth and reassure without permission. She stroked his sweat-dampened hair, kissed the top of his head, and ran her hands down his neck and back. Then her hands found his face and turned it up to hers and she kissed him. Hard and rough and deep. She forced his mouth open with her tongue. He kissed her back and as he did her grabbed her ass with both hands and lifted her up. He laid her back on the bed. She untangled her limbs from him. Then he slowly pulled out. She felt his cum trickle out, hot and more than a little satisfying.

He sank down heavily on the bed next to her. Half on his side, he laid an arm across her stomach and curled his fingers over her arm. She snuggled against his chest, still feeling small and safe but now also calm and quiet. Peaceful. With her eyes half-closed she languidly traced a scar on his arm.

“So that’s it huh?” he said quietly. She felt him smile as he kissed the top of her head.

“Well, when you put it like that,” she teased and giggled. She kissed his chest, pressed as much of her body against his as possible. “Yeah, that’s it, exactly it.”

Chapter 2

[freyholland]

I want to love Dawn of the Dead (1978) but god its corny 70s DNA is making it DAMN hard kfkdkdj

[sammygrace]

Clandestine | Confessions

Series Masterlist

The Next Morning

The knock came at sunrise.

Three raps—measured. A pause. Two more.

Phoenix rubbed the sleep from her eyes and swung her legs off the couch. Her boots were already half-laced from the night before. She opened the door without checking the window.

Daryl stood on her porch, crossbow slung over one shoulder, a pack resting against his boot.

He nodded. “Mornin’.”

She eyed the rifle strapped across his back and the string bag of supplies in his hand. “You go shopping already?”

“Figured I’d beat the rush.”

“What’s on the menu?”

“Jerky. Apples. Two knives. One rifle.”

“You sure do know how to charm a girl.”

Daryl shifted his weight. “We walkin’?”

She blinked once. “Why?”

“You got one bike. Ain’t room for both.”

Phoenix stepped around him and pointed at the seat. “Sure there is. You’d just have to be the backpack.”

He squinted at her. “What?”

“You know,” she said, deadpan. “You sit behind me. Arms around my waist. Chin on my shoulder. All soft and trusting.”

He scoffed. “Hell no.”

She smirked. “Didn’t think so.”

They started walking, the morning woods were thick with dew and birdsong. Leaves sparkled in the early light, fog clung low to the roots of trees, and the air carried the cool edge of spring. They walked without speaking at first, Phoenix led them along a narrow trail that twisted between maples and oaks. Daryl followed, hands loose, head always turning.

Her first trap was sprung—empty. Daryl set a line beside it while she reset hers. Neither said much, the quiet between them was easy, companionable.

A squirrel caught in the second trap. A rabbit in the third. They moved like hunters who’d done this a hundred times—because they had. Just not together. Not yet.

It wasn’t until they reached the old creek bed that Phoenix said anything. “Who did you lose?” She asked it quietly, while crouched at a snare line, the rope slack and untouched.

Daryl didn’t answer, didn’t even look at her, but she didn’t press. She simply stood, brushed off her hands, and started walking again, but this time, she talked. “New York was already smoke by the time I got out.”

Daryl glanced her way.

“I was in Brooklyn. Trying to get a shot of the Hudson for the Times. Got a call from my editor telling me to come back in. Then another call saying stay put. The third call never came.” She paused. “I made it three days alone. Then I ran into Gillian.”

Phoenix stepped over a log and kept going. Her voice never wavered, but it slowed. Like walking back through it.

“She was a paralegal. Smart, sarcastic. She let me crash in a bookstore she'd holed up in. That's where we found Trevor. He was twenty. An intern. More scared than he let on.”

She looked up at the canopy. “Dean found us on day five. He used to be NYPD. Older. Grumpy as hell. The type of guy who could hotwire anything. Phil and his son Ryland came next. Phil was a stay-at-home dad. Gentle. Too gentle for this world. Ryland was sixteen, mouthy, always looking for trouble. But he watched his dad’s back.

“And then there was Talia. Twenty-one. Studying biochem at NYU. Quiet. Always scribbling things in this little notebook she carried like it was going to save her.”

Daryl was listening now. Still silent. But listening.

“We found a humvee abandoned on Flatbush Avenue. Army tags. No blood inside. Full tank. That felt like a sign. So we loaded it up and pointed it south. Toward D.C.” She rubbed at a mark on her glove. “I said it was because we’d find help there. A government holdout. But really… I had someone I needed to find.”

She didn’t elaborate. Daryl didn’t ask.

“We made it as far as Allentown before Phil insisted on checking for his sister. He thought maybe she’d made it to their old house. She hadn’t. We camped in a two-story fixer-upper a few blocks away.”

Her voice cracked, just slightly.

“I don’t know how the dead one got in. Gillian went upstairs to get a blanket. I heard her scream. By the time I got there… it was already over.” Phoenix was quiet for a while. “I was the one who shot her. No one else moved.”

She blinked hard, then kept going.

“We left the next morning. Kept driving. Fuel ran out outside Frederick. We started walking. Every night, we took turns on watch. Ate from cans, boiled rainwater. There were seven of us, and somehow, it still felt lonely.”

She picked up a stone and chucked it into the brush.

“After two weeks, Phil and Ryland decided that they wanted to go west. Said we were chasing ghosts. We had one last meal together. Rice. Half a can of peas. We laughed a little. Not much. But a little.”

She inhaled.

“That night, a herd came through. Big. Fast. Like a river of teeth. We ran. Ryland tripped. Phil turned back. I saw them both disappear in seconds. Dean fell on the stairs. Never got back up. I think I saw Talia’s braid flash past a window, but Trevor yanked me out the back door. We didn’t stop running for three miles.”

Daryl finally said something. “He make it?”

She shook her head. “Two weeks later. Fever. Bite he didn’t tell me about.” They stopped walking, Phoenix sat on a low rock and rested her elbows on her knees. “After that, it was just me.”

Daryl sat beside her but said nothing for a long time. The woods around them were still. Only the buzz of insects and the flutter of birdsong filled the space.

Then he spoke. “Atlanta. I was with a group when we found the prison. Lost people there. After that… ended up in a funeral home with a girl named Beth.”

Phoenix didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

“One night, I went out to check the traps. When I came back, someone had taken her. Gone. No sign. We tracked her to a hospital.”

He looked down.

“She got out. We were gonna take her home. Some woman got nervous. Shot her by mistake.” Silence. “Right in front of her sister.”

Phoenix whispered, “Shit.” Daryl nodded.

She didn’t ask who Beth truly was to him, not wanting to push him too far, just whispered, “Goodnight,” and settled under her blanket.

Daryl took first watch with the fire burning low, and for a little while, everything stayed quiet.

|

Phoenix stirred to the warmth of sunrise on her face.

The fire had burned down to coals, and birdsong filtered through the trees. She blinked against the light and pushed herself up on one elbow.

Daryl was sitting on a fallen log nearby, crossbow across his lap, calmly watching the tree line. “You were supposed to wake me,” she said, voice rough.

He didn’t look back. “Wasn’t tired.”

“That’s not the point.”

“You looked dead.”

“I’m allergic to being responsible for someone else’s safety while they stare at trees all night, apparently.” He snorted and tossed something in her direction. She caught it reflexively.

An apple.

She stared at it like it had insulted her ancestors. “Really?”

Daryl blinked. “What.”

“I’m allergic to apples.”

He frowned. “That a thing?”

Phoenix sat up fully. “Yes, Dixon. It’s a thing.”

“I’ve never met someone allergic to apples.”

“You have now.”

“That don’t sound real.”

She threw the apple back at him. He caught it one-handed. “Fine. More for me,” he muttered, biting into it. 

She reached for the jerky and tore a piece free. “If I go into anaphylactic shock one day, I’m haunting you.”

Daryl talked around a bite. “Gonna be real hard for me to take you seriously as a ghost if you died from a fruit.”

Phoenix rolled her eyes. “Remind me why we didn’t take the bike?”

“You suggested I be the backpack.”

“Still might.”

They packed up quickly and started heading back. The air was still, a little too still. No talking. Just steps through wet leaves, Daryl a few paces ahead sometimes, her beside him other times. Natural. It wasn’t until they crested a ridge that HE stopped short.

Smoke curled up ahead—thin, white, fresh.

Campfire.

Phoenix’s hand dropped to her knife. Daryl raised his crossbow, crouching low as they approached. The fire was barely embers now, still warm. “Recent,” he muttered.

They followed the trail away from the site and that’s when they saw it.

A pile of limbs—arms, legs—hacked clean and left in a heap. Some were small. One had a wedding ring still on. Phoenix’s throat tightened.

“This just happened,” Daryl said.

She turned her head and saw the tree, a woman. Naked. Gutted. Ropes twisted around her arms, holding her upright. Blood painted the bark. A “W” was carved into her forehead, half-healed but angry red beneath it.

Phoenix’s voice cracked. “This just happened?”

Daryl nodded grimly. “Yeah.”

The woman’s eyes opened.Daryl didn’t hesitate. One step forward. Knife to skull. Quiet. Efficient. Phoenix closed her own eyes.

|

They reached Alexandria by noon, feet heavy, faces grim. Eugene opened the gate, he looked rattled.

Phoenix tilted her head. “What’s wrong?”

Then someone screamed, she and Daryl bolted toward the noise.

A crowd had gathered—Reg, Spencer, Glenn, Olivia, even Tobin—clustered around the street in front of Jessie’s house. Shouts rose in a tangle of voices, Phoenix pushed forward and saw them.

Rick and Pete. Fists flying. Blood smearing gravel. Rick’s eyes were wild, mouth open in a roar. Pete swung—missed—and stumbled back as Rick tackled him.

“Dad!” Carl yelled, trying to get close.

Pete’s fist cracked across Jessie’s cheek as she tried to intervene. Sam hid behind Carol, who pulled him close, whispering something urgent.

Rick shoved Carl aside, slammed Pete down, and wrapped both arms around his throat.

Deanna pushed forward. “Rick! Stop!”

Rick’s voice rose above the crowd. “Or what?!” He pulled his gun—Tobin and Nicholas flinched. Glenn stepped forward instinctively. “You gonna kick me out?” Rick demanded.

Everyone froze.

His voice dropped, fevered and fierce. “You people don’t understand. This place? This mindset? It’s gonna get us all killed. We need control. We need to decide who lives here and who doesn’t. You think this world still plays by rules? Wake the hell up.”

Deanna’s voice cut back, cold. “It’s never been clearer to me than it is now.”

Rick scoffed. “You mean me? That’s what’s clear?” He stepped forward, bloody and shaking. “Your way? Already got people killed. I’m not gonna stand by and let it happen again.” He raised the gun. “If you don’t fight, you die.”

Phoenix didn’t breathe.

Then—

CRACK.

Michonne’s fist collided with Rick’s jaw making his knees buckle, the gun clattered to the ground and he hit the pavement hard.

Michonne stood over him, chest rising and falling, blood on her knuckles. She looked up at Deanna.

Phoenix finally exhaled.

Daryl leaned closer and muttered, “What the fuck did we miss?”

Previous Chapter < > Next Chapter

[darylscigarettesmoke]

imagine beating daryl dixon in mario kart

[walkingtalkingsomething]

10 More Seconds Volume 1

Just Try

Changing Colors

Vulnerable

The Clearing

2+2 Makes a Team... Apparently

Gone

Aisle 9

Strangers

Strangers on a Train

Escape From Train Car A

Let's Talk

Bed Rest and Campfire Ghosts

A Priest and Some Strays Walk into a Church...

Forgive Us Our Sins... Oh, and Believe in Daryl Dixon

How Lucky We've Been

How to Lose People and Alienate Friends

Mission: Impromptu

Apologies and Loss, Sprinkled with a Pinch of Magic

Tired

From a Friend

Taking a Leap

Clashing Styles

On a Wing and... Applesauce

Interviews, Showers and Go Fish Masters

Acclimating, Mixed with Feelings of...?

First Day on the Job

You Look Nice

Downward Spirals

There Goes the Neighborhood

The Wolves Come A'Howling

Take a Breath, Now Get Ready

Take Back the Night

My Gift is my Song, This One's For You

Surprise Field Trips

God Only Knows

We Pretended It Could Last Forever

Mr. McGregor's Garden

Beware the Claws

Smells Like Teen Spirit... Or Some Shit Bound to Get Us Killed

Old Wounds and Sore Spots

These Things Will Change; It's a Revolution

10 More Seconds Volume 2: The Frozen Pines

Where We've Been and What We've Done

The Scars Remind Us

Meet Me in the Woods Tonight

Crystal Blue Persuasion

*also posted on ao3 under Dawnie7

header and divider credit:@saradika-graphics

[negandarylsatisfaction]

[SUMMARY: Negan and Glenn’s sister grow feelings for one another without her knowing who Negan truly is or what he has done.]

Negan froze at the very familiar name you mentioned. He cleared his throat as you opened the book and slowly turned the page. Negan never knew you had a brother….much less that his name was Glenn.

Negan and Cindy

Negan was now apart of a group you had been staying with for the past year. Neither of you knew much about each other but it was clear the two of you enjoyed spending time with one another. Week after week looking for one another, feelings grew.

Negan had a past just as you did, but neither of you spoke of it and you liked it better that way.

That afternoon Negan sat with you to eat like he usually did. The two of you would take breaks around the same time to accompany each other and talk.

“I have a little something for you” Negan proceeded to pull out something wrapped in a blue cloth. Unwrapping it slowly he revealed a book.

“Oh, you got me a gift” you responded playfully with a smile.

“Mhm” he smirked proudly as he handed you the book.

“Oh…” the look in your eyes instantly dropping, he furrowed his brows not sure why the sudden change of expression.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing I just-“

“You don’t like it”

“This was my brothers favorite book” you whispered, a faint smile appearing on your lips as your hands brushed down the cover. Negan looked down at you with a sigh.

“I’m sorry-“

“It’s ok, it’s nice to have some reminders of Glenn” Negan froze at the very familiar name you mentioned. He cleared his throat as you opened the book and slowly turned the page. Negan never knew you had a brother….much less that his name was Glenn.

“Glenn” Negan repeated in a hoarse tone making you look up.

“Yes…I don’t speak of him much…he was killed seven years ago..” you looked down at the book.

“His wife explained to me what happened but…I still don’t know who did it. She never liked mentioning his name…I don’t even know what happened to her..” you looked up with a sarcastic laugh.

“What’s new though right?” you turned another page as Negans jaw clenched. His body tensing with the information he was just given.

How the hell could it be?

Negan had no knowledge of having any other family but Maggie.

“Sorry…didn’t mean to ruin this surprise” you looked up noticing an almost disturbed look in his eyes.

“You ok?” You placed your hand on his making him quickly pull away.

“I need a drink” he abruptly stood up walking towards the bar your sanctuary was lucky enough to have. You stared at him confused as you grabbed the book and quickly followed.

Negan grabbed a bottle pouring himself whiskey chugging it down quickly.

“Negan-I’m sorry” you caught up to him.

“I didn’t mean to ruin the moment. I love the book”

“You didn’t ruin a thing, doll” he responded without looking back at you taking another quick chug.

“So then look at me” you watched as Negans broad shoulders rose and fell as he took a deep breath. He couldn’t bring it upon himself to look you in your innocent brown eyes knowing what he had done. Knowing you wouldn’t want anything to do with him if you knew the truth.

Without saying a word he stood up and left the room with all strength he had, refusing to look back at you. Your heart felt as if it sunk deeply into the pit of your stomach. There was no explanation as to what made him suddenly act this way. After many weeks of getting to know one another, spending time together, this was a side of him you weren’t familiar with.

You refused to let it end this way.

Barging into his bedroom you found Negan looking out his window brushing his hand through his hair. He almost seemed stressed.

“What the hell are you doing?” He turned to you as you shut the door behind you.

“What the hell did I do? And don’t tell me nothing because clearly there’s somethig”

Negan sighed.

“You didn’t do a thing, sweetheart”

“So why are you acting weird after you gave me this book?”

He couldn’t find the words to say as you looked up at him clearly upset. The slight scrunch of your nose and furrow of your brows, your hand on your hip, there he was distracted again by any little move you made.

“Cindy. You should leave” his voice was low.

“I’m not leaving” you responded, he pressed his lips together clearly frustrated that you wouldn’t listen.

“It’s for your own good”

“What the hell would you know what’s good for me?” Even through all the attitude and stubbornness, he couldn’t help but be caught up in the intense attraction he had for you. All he could do was stare down at you with so much going through his mind at once.

“Oh you have nothing to say now, huh?” You tilted your head looking up at him when he suddenly grabbed your face and kissed you. His body pushing you against the wall as you wrapped your arms around him. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this with what he knew but fuck, it was hard to ignore how much he wanted you. You let him kiss you as his lips trailed to your neck making you moan.

“God damn you, why couldn’t you just listen to me?” He whispered as his hands roamed down your body. His lips never leaving yours as you both fell onto the bed together removing one another’s clothing.

Sex with Negan was like nothing you had felt before. He was passionate yet dominating, his hands holding your hands down as he nibbled on your earlobe. Your body ached to feel him closer, closing your legs around him tightly, Negan swore right then and there he would cum. Each touch sending shivers through your body, you had wanted this for so long.

Once he finished you could feel his heart racing against your chest, his panting against your ear.

“Fuck” he suddenly uttered but his tone confused you. It wasn’t a curse of satisfaction, it almost sounded like regret.

“What’s the matter?” You asked as he lifted his head to look down at you.

“Nothing, doll” but you could see it in his eyes.

“You didn’t want to do this?”

“Of course I fucking did” before you could say another word he kissed you gently. The guilt Negan felt in that moment he knew he deserved to feel.

He fucked up and there was no going back.

The thought eating up at him he abruptly stood up and began to get dressed.

“Where are you going?”

“I gotta go” was all he could say as you sat up.

“I’m in your room Negan. Where on earth could you be possibly going?”

“Look-“ he stopped to turn back to you as he buttoned his pants.

“I’ll be back alright. Just give me a damn minute” he walked out leaving you in his bed confused and upset all over again.

Deciding to leave his room, you didn’t care if he was coming back. It wasn’t fair for him to continue acting this way without any proper explanation. Heading to your room you locked the door and got into bed, you had enough for the day.

Once Negan returned to his room, he was disappointed but not surprised to find you had left. He looked at his bed and cursed at himself, throwing his jacket against the wall. Negan hated his past and now it had come back to haunt him.

The next few days you went about your duties at the sanctuary helping clean up around the town.

A little over a week had passed and you hadn’t said a word to Negan, it angered you that he didn’t have a word to say himself. You stood on your side beginning to work as Negan was across from you in a baseball cap. You turned the opposite way, ignoring his presence he looked up at you and instantly tensed up.

Digging through the dirt to plant some crops you felt his eyes on you but you didn’t dare to look up.

“Cindy” hearing his voice unexpectedly caused you to freeze.

“Cindy..look at me” you could hear the regret in his voice, he knew he was wrong.

“Now you have something to say?” You looked up at him with hurt in your eyes.

“Look-“

“Look nothing. If you wanted to just fuck me you could’ve told me that, I’m not a little girl. But playing this whole game acting like you cared-“

“It wasn’t a game” he quickly defended himself.

“I wasn’t just trying to fuck you, that’s not what this is” he insisted.

“I don’t care what this is or was anymore. I’m over it” you lied as you reached in your bag.

“Here, you can take this gift back. Give it to the next woman you want to fool” you threw the book he gave you at his chest and walked away.

Tears streaming down your face, you hated that you had any feelings towards him. Wiping them away you ran into one of the leaders who expressed there would be a new group that would be joining.

A man, a boy and two women.

You were asked to prepare spare rooms and did as you were told happily to distract yourself.

A few hours later you were told the new comers had arrived, it being your job to show them the town and their rooms you waited by the gates when a very familiar face came out of the car. The sun in your eyes you placed your hand over your brows when the woman looked back at you making direct contact.

“M-Maggie?” You whispered in shock before realizing a young boy stood before her. You hadnt seen Hershel since he was four.

“Cindy” she ran to you with Hershel as tears welled up in both your eyes.

The two of you had so much to catch up on. So distracted with Maggie and Hershel you hadn’t thought of Negan. Hershel colored on the floor as Maggie and you sat at the table in your bedroom having a drink when you heard a sudden knock. You sighed as you stood up and opened the door to see it was Negan. Maggie’s cup slipped right from her hands as she stood in shock with who was before her.

“What the hell is he doing here?” You looked at Maggie confused.

“You know him?”

“Cindy get away from him” She responded, her eyes never leaving Negan.

“Maggie what is it?” You looked at her confused before looking back at Negan. Shock and guilt in his eyes as he looked down at you.

“Cindy-“ he took a step towards you.

“You back away from her now” Maggie interrupted.

“What the hell is going on?!” You looked back at Maggie. Anger like you had never seen before, rage in her eyes as she stood with her hands balled into fists at her sides.

“You didn’t think to tell her about Glenn, did you?” Her words making your heart skip a beat.

“Glenn?” You whispered as your eyes met Negans.

With just that look you knew…

“It was you..” you felt as if you couldn’t move, your chest felt tight as you placed your hand over your heart looking away. You felt numb, this couldn’t be it, could it? The man who had feelings for being your brothers killer?

“Cindy..” you looked up at him to see eyes of defeat.

“You knew..” you whispered.

“No…no I didn’t know until you mentioned him-“

“Don’t believe a word he says, it’s all apart of his sick game.” Maggie rushed behind you. Negan wouldn’t take his eyes off you.

“Cindy I swear I didn’t know at first”

“That’s why you acted like that after I mentioned him” you chuckled sarcastically in disbelief.

“I slept with you and….and you-“ covering your lips in disgust you shook your head. You couldn’t believe yourself.

You couldn’t believe him.

As shock subsided an anger like you had never felt before grew inside you. Anger that burned in the pit of your stomach, anger you couldn’t control you suddenly looked up and with both fists shoved Negan back.

“Get out!” He stumbled a step back with the same look of guilt.

“Cindy-“

“You heard her-“ Maggie stood in front of you blocking Negans view of you. He looked down at Maggie taking a deep breath before she slammed the door in his face.

Turning to find Hershel watching all that had just occurred, Maggie pulled you to the corner of the room as you began to cry. Negan could hear your cries standing just outside the door.

Disappointed in himself was an understatement..

“I trusted him Maggie, I trusted him!” You angrily whispered.

“You didn’t know” she attempted to comfort you.

“But he did…how could he be so…-“

“Evil? I’ve asked myself everyday“ Maggie placed her back pack on.

“Tomorrow we’ll talk to the leaders here and they’ll have him removed and I’ll be outside waiting for him” she explained making you raise a brow.

“Waiting for him for what?”

Maggie stopped in her tracks, looking up at you as if she expected you to know.

“Cindy…I’m not letting him get away again.”

“So you’re gonna kill him?” You whispered.

“Of course. It’s been too long-“

“But Maggie-“

“He killed your brother, don’t tell me you’re having an ounce of sympathy for this monster.” She quickly snapped. The truth was, you were angry, you were hurt, a part of you wanted to attack him yourself but…a tiny piece of you couldn’t simply shut off the feelings you had for him.

God you wish you could.

“What, you wanna let your brothers killer walk?”

“I know-“ you caught yourself getting loud and composed yourself.

“I know he killed my brother, Maggie. You don’t have to keep emphasizing that and I’m not saying to let him walk”

“Then what are you saying, because the look in your eyes is telling me your not in this and this ain’t right coming from you. You shouldn't second guess anything.” You rubbed your face in frustration not knowing what the hell to say.

“I don’t know dammit,”

“Well when you decide whether you want to stand for your brother or not you let me know.” She turned away from you as if you were no longer in the room. Angrily you walked out slamming the door and headed to your room.

This couldn’t be real, a man who you were sharing laughs with, time with…a man you grew to care for..he was responsible for Glenn’s death. The book Negan gifted you sitting on your nightstand, you threw it across the room when you heard a knock. You sighed, the last thing you wanted was to hear anymore lectures from Maggie.

“Maggie I already told you-“ you opened the door stunned to see Negan. Your lips parted in shock before you abruptly tried to slam the door shut just as he stopped it with his boot.

“Get out!” You screamed slamming the door again as he pushed it back with his hands.

“I just want to talk god dammit!”

“So you force yourself into my room” you backed away from the door as he let himself in.

“The only time I can actually talk to you with out your-“

“My brothers wife?”

Negan took a deep breath with furrowed brows.

“Look, you have every reason to never want to see me again but I only found out after I gave you the book.”

“And you still slept with me…knowing..” your voice shook in anger.

“Nothing can change what I did seven years ago but I promise you I’m not that man anymore, my feelings for you are real if it counts for anything. I know you don’t want to see me, I just needed you to know I’m sorry even if you never forgive me. I never meant to hurt you, Cindy.”

“Too late for that.” You whispered looking away.

“Cindy-“

“Get out Negan” your voice was calm but he knew you meant it. Without saying another word Negan turned to leave, opening the door you were both surprised to see Maggie standing on the other end.

“Magg-“

“I see you’ve made you decision, Cindy” Maggie ignored Negan before her looking at you in the back of the room.

“I haven’t made any decision, Maggie”

“Oh, it’s clear you have” she turned to Negan.

“And it’s a shame you let a monster manipulate you over your own brother.”

“That is not true!” You began to get upset walking towards the door but Negan didn’t move, standing between you both hearing what Maggie had to say.

“Oh yes it is. You should be ashamed of yourself, you don’t even know this man…God knows how youll end up if you stay with him-“

“What the hell is that suppose to mean?” Negan stepped forward tilting his head but Maggie stood her ground.

“Oh please-“ she began to laugh sarcastically.

“She’s in for misery and suffering if she stays with you, we’ve all seen what you’re capable of.”

“You think I’d hurt her?” He furrowed his brows.

Maggie silently shrugged her shoulders.

“You just better hope she’s not in the crossfire when I get to dealing with you because I won’t care who I have to get through to hurt you.”

Negan squinted his eyes staring down at Maggie, another step towards her.

“And you think I’d allow that to happen?”

You stood silently behind him hearing what was said.

Maggie didn’t respond, rolling her eyes she turned away and walked back to her room. Negan turned to you as you looked away.

“You can leave” you almost struggled to say…clearly apart of you not feeling this way. Negan didn’t fight your request.

“I’m not gonna let her drag you in the middle of this, her problem is with me, not you, Cindy. I won’t let that happen.” He assured you before leaving you at the door. Quickly you closed it unsure of what to feel at this point. None of this was right, none of this was fair…all you knew was that there was no easy decision to make.

[thesoggyraincloud]

Catching her Chapter 8

/ Daryl Dixon x OC // Merle Dixon X OC (platonic)

Season 1-3 // THE QUARRY

word count: 2913

Updated

Warnings- Allusion's to SA, Cannon swearning and physical violnce ------

Instead of the comforts of a viable, functioning society, she had gotten two rednecks. They had arrived in a whirlwind, a week after the initial outbreak and a day after Quinn had run out of food.

------

Daryl. 

He hadn't felt terror in a long time. The kind that leaves you powerless, voiceless and without a scrap of logic left to reason with. That hadn't touched him since he was big enough to be called a man, since before he realised his fists left less room for argument than his words and he’d never seen a reason to turn back. The first time he’d felt terror was at the hands of his father, but this time maybe he understood Merle’s. Why he took the beatings and why he left. Because it paralyses you, when someone who feels like a part of you gets hacked away. Leaves you primal and wanting to charge towards the danger or away, whatever helps the feeling in your chest subside fastest so you can fucking breath again. 

Because he can't breathe. Not while she's in there and it’s his fault. He doesn't even know if she's ok, totally absent from their earlier scuffle at the Vatos base. All his senses tell him to run head first into the danger to get her, but the guilt in his chest makes him wanna turn on his heel and run away from it all entirely and back to Merle. His thoughts crashed and rolled against his skull as Rick spoke, forming words that were sucked away before they reached the redneck's ear. 

He was pulled from his thoughts when the items of offence were pushed into his view, the guns they unwittingly traded for their friends. And now would be forced to trade back, leaving him just as unable to defend her as before. He hated himself for it but his body felt tight at the thought that he’d be trading Quinn for Merle if he did this. One wrong move and he wouldn't be around to look for his brother. Hell every second that passes separated them by another mile, was she really worth more than Merle to him?

“Them Guns are worth more than Gold.” He huffed, rubbing his face, and quickly continued,  “Gold doesn't protect your family, put food on the table.” 

“Are they really worth it?” As the word left his mouth he physically pulled away from them, turning from the men and only thinking about the guilt coating his mouth. . 

“If I knew we’d get them back, I might agree.” Rick quickly turned toward T-dog, “What, you think Vatos across the way is just gonna hand 'em’ over?”

The boy they grabbed spoke up, Daryl didn't care for the subject of his words, only that the kid's voice made him feel like pushing his nose through into his skull. Hitting him didn't do anything to make him calmer it just poured more into his sense of injustice and had him pacing across the room again

“The question is do you trust that man's word?” T dog spoke over the chaos, and he tried to focus, to use his rage as a tool to help the situation and not hinder it, but he just ended up wondering how Merle would’ve responded. 

“No, the question is what you're willing to bet for it, could be more than them guns, could be your life. Are they really worth that to you? “ In his mind he asks himself the same question, weighing it against his heart and his mind. 

“The life I have I owe to him, I was nobody to Glenn, just some idiot stuck in a tank. He could have walked away but he didn't, neither will I.” he paused and handed Daryl a gun and continued, 

“I could be asking you the same question. That woman, Quinn, came out here to help your brother. She could've stayed back at camp with the rest of the women but she's out here for you.”

He wanted to knock the self righteous bastard around the head with the butt of his gun or push him out the window and into the street, he didn't have a damn clue and he sure as hell didn't have a right talking to him about it right now. That asshat was ignorant of anything that happened in that camp, hell he owes her shit? she owed him if anything. But the nagging feeling was pulling his feet toward fighting, bulldozing through the next few hours to get Quinn back to him so he could try and get some control over this hellish day. He knows where she is and if he could get her back he might have some hope in finding his brother.  

The men around him stared at him, eyes boring in and he realised they were waiting on his answer. 

“What, you gonna hand the guns over?” 

“I didn't say that.” Rick turned to T-dog, “You can still leave, there's nothing keeping you here.” 

Like hell there ain't, Daryl internally snarked, but T-dog chose to stay. Giving him nothing more to complain about. Leaving that space empty to focus on the pricks that took Quinn and Glenn.

“Come on, this is nuts. Just do like g says.” The kid spoke up, and sooner wished he hadn't by the time Daryl's hand connected with his face again. And like a highschool bell, the slap quietened the room, unifying them in their decision to leave. 

 The whole ride down he sat in anticipation, each metre the van flew over filled him with steam and fire. Like the bow of an old ship his mind fractured into a thousand working parts pushing and pulling against itself, the bedlam refusing to placate against what possibilities lay ahead. She hadn't been there when they initially tried the exchange, although from the way they’d displayed Glenn like a Christmas turkey, he's almost grateful he didn't see her. Or he would be if it didn't mean 100 different, worser outcomes might be taking place. It could be happening right now, what had he done to try and stop it but think about leaving her there with them to chase after his damn brother, yet again picking up after him. 

Soon enough the Van came to a stop and He had to prepare himself for the fire fight to come. He stepped out into the sun with a frown and pulled himself alongside the others, boots filled with lead treading slowly along the concrete.

When the door opened, Rick led with Miguel, displaying the hostage and using him as cover from any enemy fire. It was a cold thing to do, Daryl mused. Stepping in behind them, it was clear they’d not lacked much in man power, at least seven or eight stood guarding the entrance. Locked and loaded ready to push them back out into the street. 

“I see my guns but they're not all in the bag.” The head vato, Guillermo spoke first. 

“That's because they're not yours. I thought I mentioned that.” Rick countered.

Both sides anticipate the pull of metal against their fingers. Someone spoke up from the back but Daryl was so wired on Guillermo he didnt make out what was said just that something was, staring into the crowd of antagonist’s he tried to pin the voice down to a face. 

“I don't think you fully appreciate the gravity of the situation.” The head Vato replied and the room felt like it shrunk as the Vatos pressed them back. 

“No, I'm pretty clear. You have your man, I want mine.” Miguel was freed, stumbling into the men in front and being absorbed by the crowd. 

“Two hostages for the price of one? I'm gonna chop up your boy. I'm gonna feed him to my dogs. They're the evilest, nastiest man-eating bitches you ever saw. I picked them up from Satan at a yard sale. And my boys will do worse to your girl. I told you how it has to be. Are you woefully deaf?” Daryl had to hold himself from throwing the gun and running at the asshole. 

Rick argued back but the situation grew more tense by the second, each man cocking their guns readying for the battle, that was until a small figure displaced the crowd in front. Breaking it apart and revealing themselves to be an elderly woman, calling out for someone to help. 

“Get that old lady out the line of fire now!” Daryl shouted, but she paid the situation no mind, not seeing the true threat before her. Tugging away at a man and crying for them to help someone they couldn't see. 

Guillermo shouted for them to leave but it was too late, with their weakness exposed they had no choice but to back down. The elderly woman, now realising the man in front’s attire started to shout in defence of her grandson, she thought the group came to arrest him. The situation quickly made Daryl feel grateful that his grandparents had never been any thought to him, looking after the young, old or sick were the kind of burdens he knew he couldn't handle with the dead walking. 

“Let em pass” That brought Daryl back to attention, pushing forward to find what he’d come all the way out here for. 

“Where's the woman?” He hadn't bothered waiting for an answer, heading off down the corridor towards Glenn's voice. 

“If your looking for your wife, she's in the nurse's office.” A larger woman pointed towards a door in the opposite direction and he started for the handle, halfway turning it before he actually registered what she’d said.

“Wife?”  He questioned but the woman had already begun walking away back to the gathering at the end of the hall. 

He clicked open the door with a breath of relief, she lay down sleeping on the examination table and for the first time since she was gone Daryl felt he could shut his mind up, if only for a minute, as if looking at her might salvage this hellfire of a day. 

“Quinn, Quinn?” He shook her but she didn't stir, it took a hard shove before the woman woke up. Shifting in place and wincing in pain as she slowly opened her eyes to his face above hers. 

“Jesus Daryl.” She flinched back until he caught her arm bringing her up to a sitting position. 

“What’s wrong with you?” 

“Those damn asshats busted my back when they grabbed me.” She rolled her eyes as she spoke, looking away from him. 

“Lemme see.” He panicked as soon as he’d said it, pulling away almost immediately at the idea but unable to stop the words leaving his mouth. 

She shook her head, No, and took a sharp breath in. 

“There’s something- It’s more then today.” 

“I was in an accident, there's a lot of scarring from when I was fused back together, I got a couple of grafts and shit too.” 

“Fused wha-” He was cut off when she raised her shirt, twisting around to catch his face. 

“Jesus Christ.” Was all he could manage, her back was a mass of scar tissues and mottled bruising. A perfect line snaking up her spine stood against the paintings on her skin as permanent evidence of the surgeries she’d had to save her life. 

“This is from an ‘accident’?” He questioned, although he was faintly aware she’d just said as much. 

She didn't reply, clumsily pulling down her shirt and letting out a heavy sigh. Rubbing her face, likely still sleepy. It wasn't unusual but something about the weight in her limbs set his mind in motion, his eyes watching her more carefully. 

“It’s not something I like talking about.” 

He turned away, wiping his damp palm’s on his jeans. He stood rigid on the spot, eyes darting between the wall and his feet trying to come up with something to say. But he was left at a blank, he had never seen anything like that on someone outside of himself, he could only think of his father and the crack of the belt flicking over him.

“We should go find the others, Daryl.” She broke through the image of his fathers torment, slowly walking to him until he took her arm to steady her, moving them both down the corridor towards their friends. 

Once all was said and done, the vatos were left with half the guns and ammo and Daryl hoped he never saw them again. He’d spend the minimal time inside hoping he would recognise the fucker that hit her, and the rest helping her hobble around trying to find a brace for her back. He’d been in a borderline rage helping her look for it in the vast building, but once they had it he was exhausted and ready to head back to the van and away from all these damn people. 

He could have died hearing glenn call out ahead of them. 

“Oh my god. Where the hell’s our van? We left it right there. Who would take it?” 

‘Merle” Rick countered, he looked at Quinn but she had no expression, refusing to meet his eyes. 

“He's gonna be taking some vengeance back to camp.” 

They continued their trek forward, pushing on despite the missing van, it was starting to get dark by the time they found a car in decent enough condition to hot wire. They all passed the journey in anxious anticipation at the wrath Merle might have inflicted upon the camp. He felt too done at this point to feel any guilt over it, Merle's potential actions might be his to deal with but until they got back he could have a moment of peace. 

His focus returned to Quinns rhythmic breathing, deep in sleep her face covered partially by his jacket collar. He found he had the temptation to pull it down from her face to get a better look. He settled on counting her breaths instead, watching the car pass by the highway. 

“Is she alright?” T-Dog spoke from his space in the empty trunk behind them. 

“They roughed her up pretty good.” Rick filled the momentary silence as Daryl thought of a reply.

She wasn't ok, not in the slightest. He had no idea what the fuck to do to help her, hell he didnt even know there was something wrong with her and he’d spent the better part of 3 months with her. If she told him there wouldn't have been a chance in hell that he’d have let her run after those guns, she put herself in so much danger. 

“She’ll be fine.” He really hoped she would be. 

When they arrived at a stop the air was cold and silent, interrupted almost immediately as the car door shut by a scream that ripped out across the quarry. A chorus joined them, wailing on as Daryl raced forward, Quinn momentarily forgotten in the back of the car. 

He knew the others were following behind him, their footsteps quickly falling among the shuffles of the dead as bullets rang out. In the smoke and dispersing crowd, it was hard to tell how many there really were, taking extra agonising seconds to clear out the walkers.

Every direction he looked they stumbled around, most covered in fresh blood and ripped flesh. He took them down as they came to him, bullet after bullet firing from his magazine. Eventually running out of ammo and resorting to using the butt of his rifle to smash them down in unbridled rage. Using every ounce of his frustration and fear to carry his arm down onto the rotting skulls of the dead.

“AMY!” 

“Oh god”

“AMY!”

Andrea’s screams signified the end of the walkers' evasion on their small encampment, Daryl stood alongside the rest of the group. Watching in shocked and equally horrified silence. No one moved for a few seconds, standing stagnant in the sea of death around them not daring to disturb her. 

“I remember my dream now, Why I dug the holes.” Jim broke through the clearing, ending the silence and snapping Daryl back to attention. 

“I need to go get Quinn.” He didn't bother waiting for a reply but he equally didn't expect one from the shell shocked crowd.

As he got further out back toward the road he left moments ago, he was almost halfway down the road to the car as he heard another slow, shuffle of footsteps coming towards him in the dark. Grinding dirt under their feet and limping over to him- he didn't think twice lifting up the end of his gun and stepping forward in quick succession. 

“JESUS CHRIST” It was Quinn, shuffling down the road, in the dark on her own ready to be chomped down on by any geek around. 

“Are you Dumb? Or just high again because I told you to stay in the Damn car.” He grabbed her arm, his heart beating faster than it ever had before. He took a good look at her, checking for any more injuries as she tried weakly to pull away. 

“What?” Her voice came out harsh and narrow, face obscured by the dark.

“Fuck you, I woke up alone. To screaming and gunshots. Where were you? What the hell is going on?” He was silent, staring at her shadowed figure watching her expression closely.

“Walkers hit the camp, and you’d know that if you hadn't gone out there earlier and stormed up Atlanta like your G.I Joe.” 

“Is anyone hurt?” At this point she was leaning up to him, so close he held his breath. 

He pushed her shoulder down firmly, immediately regretted it as she cringed back, wincing in pain. 

“Aside from you, Yeah. Just wait till you get back to camp, no point crying over shit you can't do anything about right now.” He slid his hand down her arm, letting her lean on him as they started the slow walk back.

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