#axel walker x reader

[gilverrwrites]

GOOD MORNING CENTRAL CITY

Axel Walker/Reader, 1K words Kinktober entry 15: Sex tape Warnings: Intox | public humiliation/exposure | hang over Requested by: Authors choice I love him, he's my emotional support disaster man and has been for over a decade and I need ya’ll to love him too so I can feel validated in posting insane shit about him.

A big smile, a shock of fair hair, and a funny-looking hand. “Micks gonna owe me big bucks when I tell him about this.” An unfamiliar voice cackles. That’s all you remember prior to blacking out.

Some say that the best indicator as to how good of a night out you had is how bad you feel the next day. If that’s true, you must have peaked yesterday, because this morning you feel like death warmed up. The only thing worse than your pounding head right now, is how the world seems determined to irritate it; your flatmate is up and making a racket in the kitchen, your curtains aren’t closed properly and so a stream of sunlight is blaring right across your favourite spot on the bed and your goddamn phone won’t stop pinging.

Determined to sleep off your hangover, you roll across the bed, away from the light. Clumsily you switch your phone onto silent, accidentally dropping it to the ground in the process before pulling your comforter over your head. Unfortunately, you’re only afforded a few minutes of peace before your phone begins to vibrate against the flooring. Blindly sticking your arm out, you feel around looking for it, swearing when you accidentally bat it further away. Damn, your coordination is off.

With all the effort you can muster, you pull yourself out of bed, dropping to your knees quickly, weak legs barely able to stand. How much had you had last night? You might still be drunk.

Eventually, you stumble over to the purveyor of unwanted noise, precariously holding it high above your head as you lay down, scrolling through many, many, many notifications. Jeez, were you dead or something?

Lots of links, lots of caps locks, lots of intensity that you don’t have the brainpower for. You’re about ready to turn the thing off when a new message comes through from your bestie, the latest in a series. You don’t bother reading the whole string, just clicking on the most recent link they'd sent you. It opens up to a garish-looking, and fucking verified Twitter account.

Trickster II ⭐️✔️ @.1stheworst Young, dumb, full of fun. Taken 💛

His bio is dated to yesterday which strikes you as odd, but ultimately, what do you care? It’s The Trickster, and not even the cool one. This loser was responsible for blowing up your favourite sandwich shop, amongst a slew of other highly inconvenient catastrophes.

But despite your distaste for the guy, your interest is piqued, so you keep scrolling.

@.1stheworst: comment if your babe is hotter than mine 😍 [link]

The image is behind a paywall, which, fair, get your bag dude, but the replies have been turned off and you’re not sure if it’s meant to be a dumb joke, but it makes you chuckle... and then groan as the laughter causes a searing pain to shoot through your brain. At the same time, your flatmate drops something. The jarring clang of metal on tile echoes through the apartment and makes your whole body throb.

@.1stheworst: GOOD MORNING CENTRAL CITY [image]

The next tweet has an actual image attached, a photo of him, face covered by a blanket as he rests his head on someone’s, presumably his 'babes', bare chest. There’s nothing particularly evocative about it but for the myriad of matching hickeys and bite marks on each of their bodies. You will say, however, that this mystery person has good taste in something. You have the same bedspread…

No.

The realisation dawns on you slowly.

There’s no fucking way.

You live in Keystone, it can’t be you.

You would never…

Disbelief holds firm until you run your fingers down your neck, hissing in pain when you brush against a tender bite mark that had not been there yesterday.

Shit.

Dread seeps in your heavy bones as you rack your brain, trying to recall a modicum of anything that happened last night, but you come up empty.

With an intentionally deep breath, you delve further into his feed and are greeted by a nightmare you hadn’t realised racked your psyche until now. It’s a video, posted at 3 AM this morning.

Starring: You.

In the clip; you’re on your knees. Eyes red and glassy. Swollen lips giggling around the head of a cock. The Trickster's cock.

“Shit, ya know, you’re the hottest person I’ve ever met. I'm so fucking lucky.” His tone is laced with laughter, high-pitched, almost hyena-like. Blue-painted nails brush your scalp, and your eyes roll back in response, drool escaping your open mouth as you moan aloud. “Oh fuck, that felt good.”

Clearly impatient, or perhaps just excitable, The Trickster starts to rut his hips, nudging his dick further into your mouth. The grunts and groans that escape him are frankly obscene, and he only grows louder when you stick your tongue out and begin to work his length deeper down your throat.

“Shit. Shitshitshit, you’re gonna take it all?! Neat trick, makin’ it disappear.” In spite of his elatedly shaking body, the camera stays stock still in his cybernetic arm, allowing you a clear-cut view as you take every inch of his pale pinkish cock down until your nose is buried in his blond bush. “Yeah, yeah like that.”

He doesn’t seem to shut up once, any lulls in his chattering, filled by lusty cries and pants that make you feel admittedly somewhat aroused.

“This is the best head I ever got.” He praises and your body flushes in real-time as you watch yourself bobbing along his shaft, barely gagging even when his head seemingly delves repeatedly and frantically into your the back of your throat. “Shit, you're fuckin' solid gold babe. You don't mind me postin' this do ya? My fans will bust a nut when they see you."

Your words are garbled around a mouthful of cock and saliva, but you nod, clear as day before the video cuts off abruptly. There are no more relevant posts except another link that supposedly leads to the full video. The host site looks shady as hell, but you immediately start entering your details until an incoming text grabs your attention. It’s from your housemate, reminding you to water their plants while they're out of town.

So, if they’re not home. That means… fucker.

Hi friend, I'm so glad you exist!

Kinktober Masterlist

[hxad-ovxr-hxart]

rattling the bars of my cage why must I be attached to characters no one writes for 😭

[ghostboneswrites2]

ђคɭɭ๏ฬєєภ ђ๏гг๏г

A Daryl Dixon Fanfic Challenge

Welcome back, fellow Dixon fiends, to yet another mediocre challenge from yours truly. 🩸

This challenge is (obviously) in honor of spooky season, so let’s jump right in! 👻

How to participate:

Simply select a prompt from below the cut and get to writing! 🔪 Be aware, each prompt has a unique set of challenges!

🩸Deadline is October 31!

🩸Winners will be announced in the second week of November!

Once you’ve completed your story, just post it, tag me, and tag the post #ddhh so I can find them all easily!

Rules:

Daryl Dixon x Reader only!

500 word minimum*

5k word maximum*

Must be able to stand alone!

Can be part of an ongoing series, but again, must be able to stand alone without outside context.

Writers may only enter one story from one prompt.

Please clarify which prompt you chose somewhere on your post.

* minimum & maximum word counts are approximate!

Prizes & Results:

Each prompt category will have one winner each.

Results will be decided via polls beginning in the first week of November.

🩸Each poll will be up for voting for 7 days.

🩸Winners will be announced in the second week of November.

The winner from each prompt will:

🩸Be tagged in an honorary winner post!

🩸Have one story of their choosing linked to every fic I post + my masterlist until December 31, 2024.

Prompts:

Choose wisely! Each prompt has its own unique set of kill counts, quotes, advantages, and challenges.

Here is a key for reference:

Kill Count: Mandatory number of deaths.

Setting/Era: Mandatory setting/era.

Quote: A line that must be included in your dialogue.

Challenge: Something that may make a prompt harder than the others.

Advantage: Something that may make the prompt easier than the others.

Slasher

summary: A classic, gory horror trope! Someone in the group has gone insane! The horrors of the post-apocalyptic world has driven them mad! They’re killing everyone! Who are they? Why have they done this? Who will survive?

setting/era: must be set either in Alexandria or the Prison

kill count: 4 to 8 kills

quote: “How could you?”

challenge: The killer must be a canon character from your chosen era, and your kills must also be canon characters from your chosen era. Killer cannot be Daryl or Reader. Killer also cannot be a canonical villain (like the Governor, Termites, Negan, Alpha, etc.)

advantage: Kills can be done with any weapon of choice, to any character of choice.

Supernatural

summary: A (supernatural creature of your choice) is terrorizing and killing off members of the group. What is it? What does it look like? How does it kill? More importantly, how will the survivors kill it?

setting/era: The Greene Farm

kill count: 3 to 5 kills

quote: “What the fuck is it?!” / “Dead, as soon as o figure out how.”

challenge: Supernatural creature cannot be a ghost, demon, or other spirit of any kind.

advantage: Your supernatural creature can be a classic (werewolf, vampire, wendigo, etc) or it can be something completely original and unexplainable. This gives freedom to describe your monster with as much/little detail as you please.

Paranormal

summary: A paranormal force has made its presence known and brought pain and terror upon its victims. Maybe it’s a demonic possession taking over one of the survivors, maybe it’s an angry spirit taking its home back. You decide!

setting/era: —

kill count: —

quote: “Kill it!” / It’s already dead!” / “So are the walkers!”

challenge: Your paranormal entity must not be visible to the human eye, creating an extra layer of difficulty for the survivors.

advantage: Kills are optional. No mandatory setting/era.

FAQ

Do major characters have to die (like Rick, Carol, etc) or do minor characters (like Olivia, Axel, etc) count towards the kill count as well?

Anyone can die!

Can my supernatural creature be anything that isn’t a ghost or spirit?

Yes! Could even be an alien!

Can I write a story for multiple prompts and only use one for the challenge?

Sure! You can even post them! Just be sure to specify which one you’d like to enter in the challenge, even if you do so by just sending me a message.

For the Slasher prompt, who qualifies as a villain?

Good question. Lots of morally gray characters on TWD, so it can be hard to decide who’s a villain and who’s just an asshole. For our purposes, let’s say Negan, Alpha, the Termites, and the Governor are the villains that are off limits.

Credits:

dividers from: @sister-lucifer

I do not own TWD and its characters, blah blah blah.

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow @virginsexgod69 @dazzling-roaring-20s @l0kilaufeys0n7 @uhnanix @superbowlisgay @liizzygrant @eddiemunsonsupremecy @raeraegoaway @ophelialaufey @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfsalltheway @negansbestie @mfnqueen1 @raynelbabe

[coolstoriesbro]

FOR THE ONES WE LOVE | CH. 3

FANDOM: The Walking Dead

SERIES: For the Ones We Love

STATUS: Ongoing

ERA: Prison

PAIRING: Eventual Daryl Dixon x Female Reader (No Use of “Y/N”)

CHAPTER THREE: The Guest

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

SUMMARY: A new arrival at the prison tells Rick and the others of the danger that Glenn and Maggie have gotten themselves into, leading the group with no other choice but to infiltrate Woodbury.

RATING: Mature

WARNINGS: Violence and Language (Typical TWD content)

SERIES MASTERLIST

A/N: So I know that things are a little out of order with the S3 timeline. The main things being, if I were following the show’s storyline to a T, the group would be discovering that Carol is still alive during this chapter. In my version, they found out weeks ago. Rick is also of sound mind, and has had time between Lori’s death and Glenn and Maggie’s capture to recover. In the show it’s immediate, but in my story there’s several weeks in between. Also, you can probably tell by now that there will be no Beth. No offense to Beth, but she was essentially there to babysit Judith and get Daryl to be vulnerable, and in my story those honors will be going to the Reader. Hope you guys don’t mind too much. Also, no Axel or Oscar because I don’t really see the point with how quickly they were written off the show.

“Holy shit. Who’s that?”

Whipping around to look in the direction where you’d just pointed, Daryl frowned when his gaze landed on the same wounded, dark-skinned woman who had caught your attention. He had no idea who she was but could see that she held a strange looking sword, the kind that he’d only ever seen in movies, and one of those red plastic shopping baskets that people used in grocery stores when they only had a few things to pick up.

“Only one way to find out.” Daryl grunted, picking his crossbow back up as you did the same with your revolver.

Over the next several minutes, you and Daryl worked as a team to get the woman to safety. Neither of you knew who she was, but when seeing her fight off a few walkers before falling to the ground, instinct told you both that it was the right thing to do. You could only hope that Rick would agree with your hasty decision. Once making it down to the gate, Daryl tossed his keys to you before raising his crossbow and shooting a walker that had been lumbering towards the woman’s unconscious form.

Once unlocking the gate, you pulled the door open and stepped out after Daryl, firing your gun and taking out three walkers as they stumbled closer, having been attracted by the sounds of the woman’s struggle. Remaining just outside the entrance, you scanned your surroundings while also keeping an eye on Daryl as he crouched down beside the unconscious woman. The sound of your gunfire had earned the attention of a larger group of walkers, and as Daryl examined the stranger, you started to anxiously bounce up and down on the balls of your feet.

“Was she bit?” You called over to him.

“Just a gunshot.” He announced, his fingertips hovering over the circular tear in the thigh of the woman’s jeans.

One walker had started ambling forward ahead of all the rest, getting dangerously close to Daryl. Raising the revolver, you fired, only to find that the chamber was empty because you’d stupidly forgotten to reload it after returning from hunting.

“Fuck!” You cursed, shoving your useless gun into your jeans before running at full speed and kicking your leg out, your right foot connecting with the walker’s abdomen, sending it tumbling to the ground. “Daryl, come on!”

Daryl watched with appreciation as you used quick thinking to take down the walker, but soon came back to the reality of the situation. Shouldering his crossbow, he picked the woman up in his arms just as you ran over to grab the shopping basket and her sword. Jogging along in front of him, you reopened the gate and then quickly locked it once more.

By the time you had both made it back to C-Block, Daryl’s legs looked like they were about ready to give out. You ran ahead to grab a blanket, then hurried back and spread it out over the floor before helping Daryl to gently lay the woman down on it.

“Hershel!” You yelled, running over to the gate dividing the common area from the cells.

“You sure she wasn’t bit?” You panted, glancing back at Daryl as he pulled off his crossbow and gear.

“Nah, she’s just covered in someone else’s blood. My money’s on a walker — s’why she was able to stand beside ‘em for a while before they noticed.”

With a relieved nod, you looked back just as Rick opened the gate with his keys, Hershel hobbling along on his crutches behind him.

“What happened? Who’s this?” Rick asked.

“We found her standing outside the fence, fighting off some walkers.” You explained, lifting her sword as well as the red shopping basket and peering inside to find that it was filled with baby formula. “She had this with her.”

The former Sheriff Deputy’s eyes roamed the contents of the basket for a few seconds before he looked to you, a startled expression on his face. With a shake of your head, you shrugged for emphasis, signaling that your guess was as good as his.

“My God, do you think she had a baby?” Hershel asked.

“I don’t think so.” You replied honestly. “Why would she hold onto all of this if something had happened to it?”

“It’s too much of a coincidence.” Rick muttered as he began to pace.

Moving to stand beside you, Daryl glanced inside the basket before bringing his gaze to Rick. “She ain’t bit, just shot in the leg. Dehydrated too, from the looks of her.”

Quickly moving over to the shelves where they’d been storing food and water, Rick grabbed a bottle and hurried back, crouching over the woman and pouring a bit onto her neck and chest. The woman gasped in response, her eyes fluttering open as she took in her new surroundings.

“It’s all right.” Rick assured her, raising his free hand, showing her that he wasn’t armed. “It’s all right.”

“Who are you?” He asked, gently touching her shoulder in an attempt to calm her down as her breathing hitched in her throat. “Hey, it’s all right.”

Before any more could be said, the woman caught sight of her katana and lunged forward in a desperate attempt to grab it, but Rick was one step ahead, using his leg to kick the weapon out of her reach before her fingertips could so much as graze the handle.

“We’re not gonna hurt you.” Grabbing onto her bicep, Rick pushed her back down with a bit more force as he leaned over her. “Unless you try something stupid first, all right?”

During the brief struggle between Rick and the woman, you noticed that Daryl had picked his crossbow up from where he’d haphazardly set it on the table. While you’d stayed out of the way up until this point, you stepped forward just then, entering the stranger’s field of vision. You’d spent enough time with Daryl to know that he had a temper that could easily be set off, and didn’t want this woman to be on the receiving end of it. More than that, you recognized a familiar fear in her eyes that made you sympathize with her.

“You wanna tell us your name?” You asked gently, taking a step closer in hopes that if she knew she wasn’t alone in a room full of strange men, she might be more inclined to speak. The woman looked at you and you saw that she had visibly relaxed somewhat, but still she kept quiet.

Well, so much for that brilliant idea, you thought.

Rick gave an irritated shake his head. It was obvious that he was growing impatient with their new guest. While you felt for the stranger, you also understood Rick’s perspective. Whoever this woman was, she’d somehow known exactly where the prison was and that there was a baby here, and that didn’t sit right with Rick — with any of you.

“We’ll keep this safe and sound.” Rick announced, raising her katana in his hand as he stood up. “The doors are all locked. You’ll be safe here.” He nodded towards her wound. “And we can treat that.”

“I didn’t ask for your help!” The woman spat, speaking at last.

“Doesn’t matter.” Rick shrugged, turning and heading back towards the gate with Daryl and Hershel at his heels. “Can’t let you leave.”

Remaining where you were as the others walked back to C-Block, you kept your eyes on the woman, lost in thought. She reminded you more and more of yourself when you were held against your will at Grady Memorial. Of course she had it easy; Rick’s group was nothing like those awful people, but this woman didn’t know that. It took Rick walking back over and placing his hand onto your shoulder to wake you from your thoughts of the past.

“Hey, you OK?” He asked, his brows knitting together in concern.

Nodding slowly, you finally lifted your gaze from the stranger. Hershel had gone back to his cell, most likely to retrieve his medical supplies, but Daryl was lingering by the gate. His tense gaze stayed on you as you brought your attention to Rick and you could feel his eyes even as you looked away.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just . . . “ You sighed, biting into your bottom lip. “Let me talk to her alone?”

Rick hesitated, and you saw in his honest eyes that the thought was making him uneasy. Rather than be annoyed by his reluctance however, you found it incredibly endearing that he cared enough to be concerned for you.

“Rick, I’ve been in her place before, and it’s a shitty place to be — the not knowing. Please, let me see what I can get out of her . . . “ You glanced over at Daryl as he started to walk back towards you. “ . . . preferably without Daryl chaperoning.”

“What’s the hold up?” Daryl grunted impatiently.

Keeping his eyes on you, Rick smiled knowingly. You hadn’t known Daryl Dixon long, but it seemed that you had the man figured out pretty well. For some reason, Rick liked knowing that.

“We’re gonna leave her to it.” Rick announced.

“To what?” Daryl asked.

“To have some one-on-one time with our guest.” Rick replied matter-of-factly.

Daryl shifted from one foot to the other, tucking his hands beneath his armpits. “Ya sure that’s a good idea?”

Rick nodded, his eyes still on you. “I am.”

When Rick made his declaration, you smiled; like a kid being praised by their idol. Whether he wanted to or not, Rick had unofficially taken over as a sort of father figure for you, and you were proud to have gained his approval. Daryl, however, scowled; looking rather displeased by the idea. Then again, it was difficult to tell since that was pretty much the only expression you’d ever seen him make.

Rick clapped his hand over Daryl’s shoulder as he made his way back to the gate, but Daryl remained where he was, staring you over. His hesitation lasted a few seconds, but just as you opened your mouth to ask him if something was wrong, he turned and followed Rick. Remaining where you were, you watched as Daryl returned to C-Block, catching his blue gaze as he turned back around to watch you as he locked the gate before joining the others.

“Alone at last.” You muttered under your breath and turned around to face the woman, whom had been watching you closely.

Oh, shit.

Suddenly, anxiety began to gnaw at your gut. What if Rick had put his faith in you for nothing? What if this woman said even less to you than she’d said to him? Forcing yourself to shake off your insecurities, you swallowed down the fear and took a few slow steps towards her.

“You know that older man who just left? His name’s Hershel, and he really can help you.”

With your hands stuffed into the back pockets of your jeans, you continued. “He used to be a veterinarian, before all this happened. Knows his stuff.”

“What did you used to be?” The stranger asked softly.

Both the woman’s question and interest caught you completey off guard. Even though you’d still been doing your job as a medical worker less than a month ago, it felt like an entirely different life. Shrugging your shoulders as if her question hadn’t left you reeling, you replied. “I was just a student.”

It was the same answer you’d given Rick when the two of you had spent some time getting to know each other, and it wasn’t necessarily a lie. You just hadn’t felt the need to specify what kind of student you’d been, and you still didn’t. After the world ended, you kept helping because you knew it was the right thing to do. But after everything that had happened at Grady, you were starting to think that you didn’t owe this new world shit. Not if there was a chance that it might put you into another horrible situation like that.

“How about you?”

When the woman said nothing in reply, you sighed, running a hand through your hair.

“Look, I know it’s hard to believe that there are still good people in this world, but there are.” Holding your arm out, you gestured back towards the gate. “They are. I’ve only been here a few weeks and I already feel like . . . “ You’d been tempted to say family, but stopped. It felt like a betrayal to your actual family to say it out loud. “It’s safe here. You could be safe here. Just tell us what we want to know.”

The silence that met your words was deafening, and you’d been close to calling it quits and returning to Rick to tell him that you’d failed in getting information, when the woman finally spoke.

“The supplies,” The stranger nodded towards the red shopping basket. “They were dropped by a young Asian guy with a pretty girl.”

Glenn and Maggie.

You inhaled sharply. Of course. Just before you’d left to go hunting with Daryl, Glenn and Maggie had announced that they were taking a car to look for more ammo and baby formula.

“What happened? Were they attacked?” You asked.

“They were taken.” The stranger whispered.

“By who?”

“By the same son of a bitch who shot me.”

“That’s Glenn and Maggie. They’re part of our group — Maggie is Hershel’s daughter.”

Keeping your eyes on the woman, you noticed an almost guilty expression cross her features. “There’s a town. Woodbury. About 75 survivors. I think they were taken there.”

“A whole town?” You asked, skeptical.

She nodded. “It’s run by this guy who calls himself the Governor — pretty boy, charming, Jim Jones type.”

“How many men does he have?”

“Not sure, but they have armed sentries on every wall. Paramilitary wannabes.”

“Do you know a way in?”

“Place is secure from walkers, but we could slip our way through.”

“How’d you know how to get here?” You asked.

“The couple, they mentioned a prison — said which direction it was in, said it was a straight shot.”

There was nothing the woman had said that gave you the impression that she was lying. Why would she? Her story added up, and whether she wanted to admit it or not, you could see that she was desperate to get away from Woodbury and find somewhere safe to recuperate.

“Thank you for telling me this.” Crouching down to her level, you held out your hand and introduced yourself.

It seemed the woman’s first instinct was to recoil away from your hand, but after a few seconds you were relieved to see that her expression began to soften.

“Michonne.” She replied, reaching out to shake your hand.

“Nice to meet you, Michonne.”

“You too.”

Letting go of Michonne’s hand, you stood up and stepped towards the shelved inventory, grabbing a granola bar and a bottle of water, then walking back to hand them to her.

“I’m gonna go tell everyone what you just told me. Relax, eat. I’ll be back with Hershel in a few minutes.”

Taking the food and water, Michonne nodded once before you turned on your heel and returned to C-Block. You repeated your conversation with Michonne to Rick, Daryl, Hershel, Carol and Carl. Hershel was understandably very upset, but just as brave as ever. He demanded that Rick let him come along as they began to make their plans; the intensity of the situation causing him to momentarily forget about his leg, until Rick made him see reason.

“How do you know we can trust her?” Carol asked you.

“It doesn’t matter — this is Maggie and Glenn.” Hershel said before you could answer. “We can’t leave anything to chance.”

“We ain’t.” Daryl shook his head. “I’ll go after ‘em.”

Running a hand over his face, Rick took a deep breath. He looked so tired. You’d hated being the one to have to tell him that the rare peace he’d been enjoying without any incidents over the past few weeks had finally come to an end, but there was no way around it.

“This place sounds pretty secure.” Rick finally said, looking to Daryl. “You can’t go alone.”

“I’ll go.” The words were out of your mouth before you really even had time to think it over.

Daryl looked at you, his eyes moving back and forth. You wondered what was going through his head, but for once he wasn’t arguing with you. That was progress.

Rick shook his head. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“Well that’s good because you’re not asking, I’m offering.” You smiled.

It didn’t sit right with Rick, allowing you; someone so new to the group to risk your life for his people. But with T-Dog dead and Glenn and Maggie captured, he didn’t have much in the way of backup, and he needed all the help he could get if this rescue mission had any hope of being successful.

“All right.” Rick agreed.

“I’m going too.” Carl announced.

That was where Rick had to draw the line. You remained quiet as father and son began to argue, but you were relieved when Rick told Carl that he had to stay with Hershel and Carol. No matter how good of a shot he was, he was still eleven-years-old, and the idea of having him risking his life weighed heavy on your heart.

The sun had well set by the time the group was ready to go. Hershel had sewn together Michonne’s gunshot wound and she was back on her feet, still sore, but overall doing much better. You stood with Daryl, helping him load the Hyundai with all the supplies he and the others had collected from the armory when they’d first arrived at the prison.

“I got the flash bangs and I got the tear gas.” Daryl announced as you opened up the hatchback for him to pack a backpack and duffel bag inside the trunk. “Never know what you’re gonna need.”

Even as Daryl seemed to be making conversation, you were barely listening as you stood with the strap of an assault rifle that you really didn’t know how to use, slung over your shoulder. It was funny, because after escaping from the hospital just a few weeks ago, you’d given yourself permission to be selfish from now on. Yet here you were, joining a group of people on a rescue mission on what could very possibly be your last night on this earth. The world had become such a strange place. A year ago, your idea of helping someone was letting them borrow your anatomy notes. Now it apparently meant risking your life.

“Nice kick back there, Buffy.” Daryl grunted, bringing you out of your reverie.

Turning to face him, you paused in confusion, but then slowly smiled when realizing that he was referring to when you’d taken down the walker without your gun earlier that day. You hadn’t killed it, but had at least given yourself and Daryl enough time to hurry back inside the safety of the prison gates with Michonne.

“Buffy? But Buffy’s a badass. I thought I was Betty?” You raised an eyebrow, placing your hands on your hips as you reminded him of the rude nickname he’d given you just that morning when you’d had the audacity to question the reliability of his precious motorcycle.

Daryl hesitated for the briefest of seconds, something of a glint in his eyes as he studied you closely, nothing but the sound of cicadas in the night surrounding you both. Finally, he shrugged his broad shoulders with a tilt of his head. “Maybe you’re a little of both.”

As you climbed into the backseat after Daryl, with Rick behind the wheel and Michonne navigating from the passenger seat, you couldn’t hide the smirk that crept over your lips even if you’d tried. If that was as close to a compliment as Daryl Dixon was willing to give you, you would happily take it.

CHAPTER FOUR

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[littlegodzilla]

Hiii!!

Here you are the next chapter.

Thanks for reading and the reblogs! I'm glad you all liked the story!

Enjoy the chapter!

≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈

Our Story.

Daryl Dixon x Wife / Daryl Dixon x Reader.

Part 10.

Masterlist.

Warnings: Fluff. Memories. Babies. TWD drama and violence.

Words: 3700.

Summary: things are complicated. A new member has born in the group.

≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈

Chapter 10. Little Ass-kicker.

The prisoners have turned out to be more trouble than you expected. One of them has been eliminated by Rick when he tried to trick them and leave them at the mercy of the zombies. Axel and Oscar are banished to another ward as they promise that they are not like them, that you will let them join the group, but Rick is not willing to trust them, especially not now that Lori is so close to giving birth, you are going to be more vulnerable and he needs to have everything under control.

"Do you think we'll be able to live here?" Sophia looks at you somewhat uncertainly, playing with her bow. 

"Sure, why not? As soon as we clear all the wards, this place will be the safest." You assure her and she shrugs.

"What if it happens to us like Hershel, what if someone gets hurt or we get bitten?"

"That's not going to happen, we've got it under control, we're strong and besides we know how to fight, right?" you smile. "You're better with a bow than me, now." You encourage her and she laughs softly.

"That's not true... I'd like Carl to practice with us..."

"Me too, but Lori doesn't want to put him at risk any more than necessary, we have to accept her decisions."

Sophia doesn't seem convinced, but she doesn't insist either, she raises the bow and shoots one of the arrows on the target you have built with some wooden planks you have found over there. She still has trouble hitting the center of the target.

"Ya need to raise yer arm a little more." You hear Daryl approach you. "Bend yer elbow." He says giving her a tap on the arm that tenses the bow and holds the arrow. "Get up from here." He touches the hand that holds the bow. "Open both eyes and let the arrow graze yer face when ya go to shoot." He advises her and she obeys all his directions before shooting. "Good shot." He smiles as he sees that the arrow has hit the target.

Sophia jumps excited to see the arrow stick where it should and turns to hug Daryl who accepts her gesture of affection, rubbing her hair as he smiles towards her. It makes you think, turning your mind back to the past again, what would have happened if your sister and Daryl had had a baby? Your heart trembles at the thought of a baby in Daryl's arms, of watching it grow up. You wonder if maybe Daryl wouldn't have gone back to Merle having a little one to take care of. You shake your head trying to shake those thoughts away. If he and Carol really feel something, want to have a relationship, he could take care of Sophia. Something tells you that the little girl has been fond of him since she knew he had been looking for her.

"Thank you, Daryl." The girl tells you sincerely and runs off to find Carl.

You pick up the bow, setting it aside to go get the arrows you've stuck in the target. Now that you don't need to be on guard all the time, just keeping an eye out for some of the dead approaching the fence, you normally leave the weapons inside the block so you don't go back and forth with them. You keep Sophia's arrows in her quiver and leave it next to her bow, you know it won't be long before she's back with Carl, so you don't pick up so they can have some fun.

"I hear Lori's ain't in a good mood." Daryl comments, you give him a sidelong glance and walk back into the block, he follows close behind you.

"Lori didn't see fit for me to take Carl all the way to the infirmary." You comment with a shrug.

Hershel has stabilized, he hasn't transformed, which means amputating his leg was a good choice. After that, you went back to the infirmary to go over the place, get the two Walkers out of there and take Hershel there to rest. You've cleaned everything up, repositioned everything they had looted and now you have an area set up to take care of any medical problems, to keep a better eye on Hershel, with medication in case someone falls ill and even to take care of Lori in her pregnancy.

"You've made all this as good as new."

"So I can take better care of Hershel."

"And Lori... Do y'know when?"

"I'm not sure, but it shouldn't be too long..." You gesture and approach with a list. "Can I ask you to bring me these things if you go out on patrol?" You look sideways at it.

"Sure, what is it?" He looks at the list and feels his cheeks suddenly heat up.

Compresses.

Tampons.

Menstrual cup.

Birth control pills.

"Maggie and Glenn are careful but condoms don't last forever and it won't be long before Sophia gets her first period so..."

"O-okay, I understand, dun need more details." He shakes his head trying not to get that image in his head.

"Thank you." You smile. 

It's not just Sophia that's going to need that sort of thing, those months you've been away, looking for a safe place, it's been a real challenge to find that sort of thing. Daryl tucks the paper in his vest pocket and smiles a little, though he's still uncomfortable, it shows in the way he chews his lip a few times.

"Hey, how are things going...?"

But you can't finish the sentence, suddenly you hear shouting outside, you look at each other in confusion and quickly exit the block to see what's going on. The back area where all the Walkers were being held, has opened, someone has broken the chains that kept it closed and the courtyard is full of infected. You quickly start shooting at them to stop them from advancing, giving your companions time to get to safety, you see Carol and T-Dog enter the other block, Lori, Carl and Maggie are out of sight, Hershel is with Beth and Sophia.

"What happened!"

"Someone opened the door and lured them in with food!"

"Where's Rick?" asks Daryl firing one more shot.

Before you get an answer you begin to hear a loud siren booming throughout the place. Loudspeakers placed in the corners of the building are calling the attention of all the dead, both inside and outside the prison. Rick then appears shooting towards the speakers, Daryl and Glenn mimic him trying to silence the alarm but it keeps blaring. You run over to Oscar and Axel opening the door where they stand apart from the group.

"What is that!" You ask.

"Someone must have switched on the generator and set off the alarm." Oscar explains.

"And where is that?" you insist.

"Take us there!" shouts Rick pointing his gun at the huge recruit.

"The rest of you stay there!" You tell Hershel Beth and Sophia.

"But my mother!" Sophia wants to protest.

"We'll find her, but don't come out of there!" You stop her and are about to enter the block when Daryl steps in the way. "What are you doing?"

"It's not safe, you should stay here."

"I think I've shown you that more than once that I know how to defend myself."

"We don't know what we're up against, if there will be more Walkers inside."

"Daryl, this is not the time to argue. I'm going." You make it clear to him and dodge him to run after Rick and the others.

"Fuck..." He growls and runs after you.

Inside the building you encounter several Walkers, they are small groups thankfully, but between you all you engage them as Oscar makes his way to the room where the generator and the panel to turn off the siren is. You and Daryl quickly close the door behind you to prevent the infected from following you, Oscar and Rick are looking for the lever to stop everything when Andrew appears and jumps on Rick ready to kill him.

"Daryl, help him!" You ask the archer as you hold the door.

Daryl pulls out his knife to slowly approach Oscar who in Rick and Andrew's struggle the gun has flown out of his hands and is now pointed at the sheriff, Daryl positions himself, ready to attack the inmate if necessary, but Oscar shoots and Andrew's body falls to the ground, dead, Oscar hands the gun back to Rick and Rick finally turns off the siren leaving everything calm again. You sigh closing your eyes with relief, but you have to go back and eliminate all the dead that are still out there being a threat. You have to find the rest of the group.

But when you leave the block you discover the tragic news. Maggie appears with a baby in her arms, crying, but Carl is no better, he can't speak, tears run down his face as his father understands what has just happened and you all watch as he turns into a jumble of despair and pain. He screams, cries, falls to the ground helplessly, Maggie continues to press the baby against herself as she cries. You have lost Lori, that attack has separated and broken you all, but that's not all, T-Dog and Carol have not returned either and you have found T-Dog's devoured body... Sophia is also in her own grief as she is aware that she has lost her mother.

"Let me see the baby, Maggie." Hershel asks his daughter and she obeys. "She's fine, she's healthy."

"What can we do? I doubt there's baby milk in a prison." Glenn says.

"She'll still hang on a bit, but she needs to eat or we'll lose her too."

"No, not her." Daryl growls shaking his head. "We're ain't losin' anyone else."

"I'll help you, there's a mall a few miles from here." Maggie says.

"I'm coming too." Glenn joins in.

"Okay, Beth." Calls the girl now holding the baby. "Carl and Sophia have lost their mothers and Rick doesn't seem to be doing too well..."

"I'll take care of the kids, don't worry."

"Thanks." He nods and walks away, heading towards you. "You're coming too?"

"Okay." You nod. "We can take different routes."

"Then let's go."

You run to the cars, you can't waste time plotting too many elaborate plans. You think about the fastest route, Glenn is good at that, but the nearest pharmacy is totally ransacked and the mall could be a big challenge.

"The road is full of cars and Walkers, it would take too long."

"We'll go with my bike." Daryl says pointing at you. "You guys stay, Beth will take care of the kids, but we need to protect the place and make sure Rick is okay..."

"I'll take care of that." Glenn promises you. 

"Be careful." Maggie asks you. You nod hugging her, you've become good friends after all. You grab the backpack and ride with Daryl on the bike away from there.

You have to admit that it goes much faster than the last time you went together, but you understand his concern, the group has been divided, you have lost many companions, there is a baby to take care of. You cling tightly to his back and feel him speed up a little more. You don't reach the shopping center, you take a detour on a nearby road that points you in the direction of the village, there you find an abandoned kindergarten.

You quickly get off the bike and adjust your backpack and bow on your back. Daryl grabs his crossbow and you walk towards the building, everything seems very quiet, both inside and outside, you pray that there is something left there that could be of use to you. Daryl breaks the window and the two of you carefully enter, the noise hasn't alerted any beings in there, that's good, a little stroke of luck. You wait.

The first thing you find in that room are several bottles and diapers. Daryl looks around trying not to think too much about where all the people who worked and lived there would be, where all those children would be.

"Get some clothes." You ask him. "Besides powdered milk we need more diapers and clothes." You list them for her.

"I'll get right on it." He assures you while keeping an eye out for any movement that might be a threat.

"Sorry." You say as you walk down the hallway.

"What?" he looks at you confused.

"About Carol... I'm so sorry." You look sideways at him, he stops and frowns.

"Again with that? What do you think was going on between Carol and me?"

"Clearly there was something going on between you, that you liked..." You try not to sound too blunt, he raises his eyebrows in surprise.

"Are ya out of yer mind? I didn't like Carol, not like that." He denies and you can see his cheeks turn a reddish color. "Is that what ya meant the other time about 'our thing'?" You shrug and he snorts loudly. "Yer crazy."

"Would it be that bad? I mean... there's nothing wrong with it if you have feelings for her; we're human."

"It wasn't that, okay? She was just a friend." He looks at you with intensity, his eyes roaming over your face, looking nervous and doubtful.

"Okay, okay, sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. Still, I'm sorry."

"I'm fine, Sophia worries me more."

"Me too, but she's a strong kid, she'll pull through."

"You've grown fond of her too." he looks at you and you smile embarrassed. Yes, it's true, both Carl and Sophia you have taken a special affection for, they are the future of that new world, you need to protect them.

You want to answer, but then you hear some knocking at the end of the corridor. You look at each other with intensity and prepare your weapons. Slowly you advance down the corridor to the kitchen of the place. The knocking comes from inside a cupboard, something seems to be banging and scratching at the door, wanting to get out. You look at each other sideways, Daryl places the crossbow and you walk towards the door to open it so he can finish off whatever is in there. 

It's just a gossipy possum, but Daryl shoots anyway.

"Hey, dinner." He mumbles with the flashlight in his mouth and you can't help but laugh.

"I'm not putting that in my backpack, I don't want the baby stuff to get blood on it." You warn him and open the cabinets. "Bingo!" You laugh quietly as you discover several cans of powdered milk.

"Let's grab everything we can and get back. That baby doesn't have much time." Insists Daryl stuffing the possum into his backpack and a few other things that were in the kitchen.

"You know, I remember my sister was always excited, wanting to have a baby." You comment, without realizing it. Daryl blocks in his tracks and turns to look at you.

"No." He's blunt and his jaw is clenched. "Shut up."

You obey, it's a touchy subject, you're not even sure why you brought it up, but Daryl's constant concern and care for the youngest of the group have brought those memories back to your mind. The times your sister thought she might be pregnant, the excitement and nerves she felt wanting to tell her partner, the excitement you felt just imagining them with a baby in their arms, the look on Daryl's face when he found out. You always wished you could witness that.

**

Now you are.

You arrive at night to the prison. The town was a bit far away and you have entertained yourselves on the way trying to find more things, not only for the baby, Daryl still had the list you had given him for your feminine things and you took the opportunity to search on that too. 

You quickly enter the ward, the baby is crying, she is hungry, possibly she needs to be changed, she needs her mother's warmth. But above all it is hunger that is making her cry so desperately. Carl rocks her in his arms, Sophia caresses her little head, Rick is nowhere to be seen. You prepare a bottle at full speed and when you turn to give it to Carl, your heart stops.

Daryl has taken the baby in his arms, rocking her with extreme care while whispering softly to soothe her crying. There is a small smile on his mouth, warm, excited. There's a glimmer of the Daryl you've missed so much and your heart races. With trembling hands you hold out the bottle to him and he doesn't hesitate to give it to her, the baby calms down and begins to eat greedily. 

"That's it, little girl..." He smiles again. "Does  have a name yet?" He ventures to ask, his gaze falling on Carl.

"I've thought of several; Carol... Jacqui... Amy... Andrea... Patricia... Lori..." She whispers and holds in a whimper. "B-But I don't know..."

"I'm sure you'll find the perfect name." You assure her by squeezing her shoulder.

"Asskicker." Daryl says suddenly and you all laugh low. "Do you like it? Asskicker?" he insists speaking to the baby in a very soft, warm voice. "Do you like it, sweetheart?" he whispers one more time before looking up at you again.

Your gazes connect, he still has that sweet smile, marveling at having the baby in his arms, feeding her until she is full, he hands the bottle back to you and leans her little body against his shoulder giving her a few strokes on her back to expel the gas. He has you totally amazed at how easily and naturally he is doing it, if it were you, you would possibly be shaking and wondering what you are doing more often.

"Do you want to hold her?" He offers walking towards you. You nod and he gently sets her down in your arms, she weighs more than you expected despite her size.

"She's so small..." You whisper in fear of scaring her.

"Yeah... but Hershel said she's healthy and we brought a bunch of those cans..." Now he does look nervous as he speaks. "Sh-she'll survive."

"Of course." You look at him intently and nod. "We won't let anything happen to her."

He nods too, you feel him stroking your hair and feel goosebumps rise on your skin as he caresses and massages the back of your neck, never leaving your side. The others watch you curiously, despite the time you've all spent traveling together, they are still surprised at times at how familiar and trusting Daryl is with you, though the others he has started to treat differently too.

"Where is she going to sleep?" he asks again.

"We don't know if Rick will be back... We don't know where exactly he is..."

"We'll look for a quiet cell, we'll try to condition it as best we can." Hershel comments.

"We'll go out and get more stuff, Daryl and I found all this stuff in a nursery, we can bring back a lot more." You count without stopping rocking the baby who has fallen completely asleep in your arms.

"Well, I think we should all get some rest, it's been a long day." Hershel offers and you all nod in agreement.

You all accept, Oscar and Axel make a pretense of leaving, but you let them stay in your block, they have proven to be useful, now things are not too good to do without four more hands that can help. You go up to the second floor where you have your room still with the baby in your arms.

"Do you mind if I take care of her for the time being?" You say to Carl. "When I get up for my shift this morning, I'll leave her with you." You promise him and he nods. "Sleep, Carl."

"What about Sophia?" he asks you hesitantly and you nod.

"I'm going to sleep with her, we can't leave her alone now." You say goodbye to the child and walk to the cell where Sophia is already lying on her bunk, curled up, trying to sleep. 

You carefully lay the baby on your cot and place the pillow so that she can't move and accidentally fall off the cot. You kiss her little head and peek over to the top bunk and stroke Sophia's shoulder who shakes without waiting for the contact.

"Sorry, honey, are you okay?" you know the question is stupid, but you need to hear it.

"No...I miss my mom...I didn't get to say goodbye." She sobs and you stroke her back.

"I miss her too, we all do." You try not to cry. "We need each other so much more now, we have to be strong, you know anything you need you can talk to me." You promise her and she slowly nods her head, slowly she turns around to look at you.

"Carl and Asskicker have also lost Lori..." She mentions and you can't help but smile at the name.

"I know, but they still have us, we're not going to let anything happen to all of you." You promise her and she slides over to the edge of the bed to hug you. "Do you mind if I sleep here with her until it's my turn to go the tower?" You ask her and she shakes her head. "Good night, sweetheart." You tell her and lay down on the bed below, cuddling the baby gently feeling her move in your arms, but she soon falls asleep again.

Daryl chews his lip several times, leaning against the wall next to your cell, listening to the whole conversation, turning it over inside his mind. He's hurting over the loss of Carol too, he can't explain it, but he was starting to feel a nice affinity with her, he'd discovered she had a funny side after all and now....

He growls in frustration and hurries away, down the stairs and out of the block to lose himself in the corridors, down where they had found T-dog's body.

He needs to think.

********

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To be Continued...

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Hope you liked it!!

See you in the next chapters!!

Taglist: @green-eyedladywrites @minervadashwood @livingdeadblondequeen @bringinsexybackk69

[allzelemonz]

The Walking Dead Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Axel

Axel X Male Reader

(To be reviewed to standard)

Merle Dixon

Settle

Pronouns: he/him, Reader referred to as ‘man’ and ‘boy’ Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut, language Warnings: Slurs (homophobic), Merle Dixon is his own warning, mention of Merle’s SS symbol, typical southern prejudice/homophobia, neck kissing, anal fingering, anal sex, cockwarming, hand job, cuddling, top Merle and bottom Reader Summary: After striking out with every woman in camp, Merle turns to you and ignores the gay aspect of sleeping with another man in favor of getting laid.

Milton Mamet

Necromancer: Milton Mamet X Gender Neutral Reader

Prompt: 12 Days of AU, Magic Pronouns: None Mentioned Physical Sex: None Mentioned Rating: T/Zombies Warnings: Mentions of death and zombies, use of ‘biters’ instead of 'walkers’ Summary: When science fails, magic is needed to learn more about the dead.

Simon

Seeing Stars

Pronouns: None mentioned; Reader referred to as ‘boy’ and ‘man’ in dialogue Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut Warnings: Toys, grinding, Simon hates dildos and thinks he’s too good for toys, mentions of Negan loving his wives, anal plug, handcuffs, prostate massage, rough sex, both of them are switches but Simon’s more of a top, Negan needs his Lieutenants to loosen up, asexual author that had to do a lot of fic reading to figure out how toys work Summary: On a run with Negan, the Saviors happen across a sex shop and bring home the lot. Being Negan’s right hand, Simon and his S/O get first pick.

[rummiwrites]

MY BLOG IS 18+

if you anonymously request something i take that as an automatic ‘hey i’m not a minor’ so please don’t betray my trust. if you are a minor or don’t have an age visible, please don’t follow me because i’ll end up blocking you. i don’t like the thought of someone underage possibly reading any mature content i decide to post.

I DO NOT WRITE FOR ACTORS/ACTRESSES

i’ll only write fictional / fictional portals. (EX. carmen berzatto is fine, kerry von erich portrayed by jeremy allen white is fine, but i won’t be writing anything for jeremy allen white. makes me feel weird)

I WRITE MASC, FEM, & GN READERS

my x reader writings are all automatically going to be gn, but i’m more than happy to do masc or fem descriptions if it’s specifically asked for! :)

PLEASE BE SPECIFIC

i need to know character(s), prompt, a specific pov if you’re not wanting gn, and if there’s any reader specifications (body shape, race, personality, etc).

i want you to get the content YOU want <3

I DO NOT WRITE:

my friends, i’m not on board with illegal age relationships, i feel like we can all agree on that.

i’m also not rocking with bodily fluids (besides blood if it’s in line with a character or situation).

i won’t be writing any cnc or most dubcon (with the exception of consensual somnophilia). i don’t want to potentially trigger anyone, and i’m also just not into it. no kinkshaming though, this is a safe space.

if you’re going to be a regular reader and have a specific trigger you want me to avoid in my work, please feel free to let me know!!

WHO YOU CAN REQUEST -not complete

THE BEAR ; Carmy Berzatto, Chef Luca, Nat/Sugar Berzatto, Richie Jerimovich, Sydney Adamu.

STRANGER THINGS ; Eddie Munson, Jim Hopper, Steve Harrington.

LORDS OF CHAOS ; Euronymous/Øystein, Dead/Pelle, Hellhammer/Jan Axel, Bård/Faust, Necrobutcher/Jørn.

METAL LORDS ; Hunter Sylvester, Kevin Schlieb, Emily Spector (NO NSFW)

BALDUR’S GATE ; Gale, Astarion, Shadowheart, Lae’zel.

CRIMINAL MINDS ; Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner, Penelope Garcia.

RORY CULKIN (love him) ; Charlie Walker, Jack Thurlow, Gabriel, Kappa, Possum, Dan Cooper, Mike, Clyde, Oliver Sway, Samuel Lafferty.

MISC ; Arthur Morgan (rdr2), Jim Halpert (the office), Chip Taylor (68 kill)

[rockets-capris]

So if I made a bunch of Axel Walker imagines how many of yall would read them?

Youknowimmadoitanywaybutstill

[theteasetwrites]

The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning

Chapter 19: Thicker Than Water

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader ❧ Era: Season 3 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: mild swearing, scary situation, violence, typical TWD ❧ Word Count: 4k

❧ In This Chapter: Daryl leaves with Rick and a few others to rescue Glenn and Maggie from Woodbury, where an old "friend" reunites with Daryl, causing some internal conflict between loyalties. Meanwhile, you are confronted with intruders back at the prison, one of whom makes you question the ease with which you welcome strangers.

❧ A/N: Hate that Merle is back messing with Daryl's head, but it also makes for some interesting drama so I'm here for it.

The night Daryl left for Woodbury was difficult for you.

You tried to take your mind off of it by taking care of the baby, who Carl had named Judith, but Daryl was right—there was something off about this mission.

Before this, most of your group’s problems came from walkers. Occasionally you’d run into less than friendly folks, but never before had anyone in your group went to take on a whole township of people.

You knew Daryl would also have to kill people if they tried to kill him or got in his way. That thought disturbed you, too.

When it came your turn to take watch in the guard tower, you didn’t have much to keep your mind from worrying. You didn’t feel like reading because the only book you had was the one you were reading to Daryl, and you couldn’t write in your journal because you knew you’d just write about him.

It was one of the many moments you’d had since the beginning of the apocalypse that you wished you still had your prescription Zoloft.

When you were relieved by Carl, you headed into your cell and tried to get a few winks of sleep before the sun rose in a few hours.

You slept a bit, but it was restless, as it always was when Daryl was gone.

The morning went by slowly. There was seven of you back at the prison: you, Carol, Beth, Carl, Judith, Hershel, and Axel. The weaklings, the negative voices in your mind echoed. The women, the children, the one-legged old man, and the wimpy ex-con.

You knew it wasn’t true. You didn’t believe anyone was weak, least of all anyone who was able to last this long in such a hostile world. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder if that’s what Daryl thought of you.

He’d deny it until he was blue in the face, but he treated you like you were a porcelain doll. It was the only thing about him that could rub you the wrong way, that and his insecurities, of which there were many.

By nightfall, you sat with Beth and Carl in the cell block with nothing else to do to pass the time but teach Beth how to load a handgun.

“Load your magazine in this little slot here,” you instructed her, “then you push down with your thumb on this slide release button here. Now pull the slide back and let go. It’s ready to go now.” You handed the gun to her and watched her remove the magazine and repeat your steps with accuracy.

Carl smiled at you as he watched. “So you know how to swaddle a baby and load a gun?”

You laughed. “One of those things I would’ve never learned if it weren’t for all this.” You gestured vaguely to the world around you. “I hated guns back in the day. Too loud and dangerous. Still too loud and dangerous. I like my axe or my knife better, but sometimes you gotta use the gun.”

“I did it,” said Beth proudly after she finished the steps.

“Good job,” you said, checking the magazine to make sure she loaded it properly. “You’ll get faster the more you do it, too.”

“Finally got Judith to sleep,” Hershel said as he hobbled on his crutch into the room.

“How are we with formula?” Carl asked.

“We have enough to last us another month,” Hershel answered.

Carl nodded. “(Y/N) and I can go get some more at the end of the week.”

You looked at him curiously. “Your dad and the others should be back by then, bud.”

He looked back at you, his young face so much more serious than it had any right to be. “We don’t know that. Right now, Judith is the only family I got.”

You rested a hand on the young boy’s shoulder. “We’re all your family, Carl. It’s not just about blood anymore.”

He nodded his head before looking down to twiddle his thumbs.

The comfortable silence nestling between the four of you was stopped short by the distant sound of a woman screaming.

Your head perked up and you instinctually reached for your knife.

“What was that?” Beth asked nervously.

“It sounded like it came from inside,” you said, standing up and taking your gun from Beth to return it to its holster.

“Was it Carol?” asked Carl.

“She’s out keeping watch with Axel in the guard tower,” Hershel said.

You took a deep breath. “One of you should go check on them, make sure they didn’t come back in or something.” The screams of agony kept ringing out, taunting you. “I’m gonna check it out.”

“I’ll go with you,” Carl said as he stood up with his own gun. Though you didn’t really want Carl, a twelve year old kid, to go with you on a potentially dangerous investigation, but he had become a capable fighter, and you knew what it felt like to be treated like you couldn’t do anything. At least, that’s what you thought.

Hershel raised his crutch and barred the both of you from leaving. “I can’t let you go down there, either of you.”

You huffed. “Hershel, we’ll be fine. Someone needs to check it out. We’ll look out for each other.”

Hershel looked at you skeptically for a moment, then trailed his gaze down to Carl. “My father would go.” The boy nodded in agreement.

He reluctantly lowered his crutch, then turned to Beth as the two of you began your search for the source of the screaming. “If anything happens to them, Rick and Daryl will have my head.”

Slowly, the two of you made your way through the depths of the tombs, where the screams seemed to be coming from. You both held your guns upright, with flashlights crossed over them to guide your way.

The screams and cries became more and more clear the further you went. You finally reached the boiler room where it seemed the sounds were coming from. Carl shone his light on the door, slowly reaching for it before a walker came up from behind you.

You turned yourself in a flurry to plunge your knife deep into the walker’s skull before it could get to either of you. Carl nodded to you in thanks before leading you both into the boiler room.

The sight was certainly unexpected—five living people, one man and one woman fighting off a solid handful of walkers; and a man, a woman, and a teenager cowering on the ground. You both jogged closer to see what was happening. The woman on the ground appeared to have been bitten, and she must’ve been the source of the screams and cries.

You took a cursory glance at the others, your sights landing on the teenaged boy. You froze a bit before coming back to reality and shooting at the walker the other woman was fighting with a shovel.

She gasped before turning around to notice you and Carl. The others did the same, completely in shock by your sudden appearance.

“Come on!” Carl shouted.

You wanted to say something, to stop Carl from bringing them back with you, but the walkers were pouring in from somewhere and you needed to get him back to safety. There was no time to argue.

You led the way through the dark corridors, the man who had picked up the bitten woman barely able to keep up. You turned around when you heard the group slowing their pace.

“Hurry!” Carl yelled to the man who had dropped himself and the woman to the ground in exhaustion.

“Just go,” he said.

“Carl, let’s go,” you urged him as you saw the shadows of several more walkers rounding the corner towards you all.

“I’ll take her,” the other man said, rushing over to pick her up.

“I’ll cover you,” said the woman with the shovel before hurdling towards a walker and bashing its head in.

You huffed and rolled your eyes, just wanting to get Carl back to safety. You brought your gun up to eye level and began helping them keep the walkers at bay, shooting several directly in the head. “Carl!” you yelled to him when the walkers were thinned down.

He looked at you and nodded. “We have to leave her!” he yelled.

“No way!” said the man who was now carrying her over his shoulder.

Goddamnit.

You shot one more walker before urging the group to follow you again, all the while holding Carl’s hand to make sure he was by your side. You weren’t going to let him die for these people.

Throwing open the gate to your cell block’s common area, you waited for everyone to come through before latching it shut.

“Oh God, Donna!” the man, who you presumed to be the woman’s husband, cried.

The other man who was carrying her was laying her down on the ground. “Is she dead?” the husband asked frantically.

You and Carl hurried over to her lifeless body. As her husband began sobbing, you exchanged a worried look with Carl. He seemed to know what you were thinking.

He raised his gun to point down at her head. “I’ll take care of it,” he panted before cocking his gun. You were about to stop him, not because you didn’t think it was the right thing to do, but because you didn’t want Carl to have to put down yet another walker just a few days after he put his own mother down.

“Whoa, kid wait a minute,” the man who carried her looked between you and Carl.

“She could turn any second,” you said sternly.

“Who the hell are you people?” the other woman asked. “How did you get in here? Who are you with?”

She must’ve been confused—a young boy and a young woman, presumably living alone in an abandoned prison. She probably wondered how you both had survived so long if it was just the two of you.

You looked up at her to respond, but your sights landed on the young man standing next to her again. You couldn’t place it, but he looked vaguely familiar.

“Look, we can help you,” Carl said. “First thing’s first…” He raised his gun to the dead woman’s head again.

“No, we take care of our own,” the man said. He reached back and took a hammer from the young man, who immediately began crying.

“No, Tyreese!” the husband yelled in the midst of his sobs.

“I gotta do it,” the man called Tyreese responded. “Just take Ben and lean against the wall.”

Ben.

Something in your brain snapped like a rubber band being pulled too tight. That’s the little prick who shot me.

You followed Carl into the cell block, not taking your eyes off of Ben. When you were both inside, you regrouped with Hershel and Beth. “We can’t let them stay,” you whispered. “That kid is the one who shot me. They could be dangerous.”

Carl nodded to you before he returned to the gate separating the cell block from the common area and latched it shut, locking it with the keys Daryl had left you.

“Kid, did you just lock us in here?” Tyreese asked.

“Open the door,” the woman demanded.

“No way,” you said. “We don’t know you.” You actually did know Ben, but considering he’d apparently just lost his mother, you didn’t want to bring that up just yet.

“This room is secure. You’ll be safe,” Carl reassured them. “You have food and water.”

“Come on, man, we’re not animals—don’t do this,” the woman begged Carl. She looked up at you with pleading eyes, then anger. “Hey!” she yelled, causing you to flinch at her sudden reaction. “Open this door! Open it! Now!”

“Sasha!” Tyreese said. “Back away from their door, and let them go.”

“We don’t want any trouble,” he continued.

Carl nodded as they walked away to the other side of the room to take care of the woman they’d lost.

“Shouldn’t we help them?” Beth asked.

“We did,” you said plainly.

The newcomers didn’t cause any problems that night. The next morning, you all joined them in the common area to cook some food and let Hershel doctor them up.

“Pretty nice having medical training,” Tyreese said, watching the man stitch up the other man’s wound on his leg.

“It’ll only get you so far,” Hershel replied.

You stood in the corner with your arms folded, watching the newbies carefully. “He’s being modest,” you said. “He’s done a lot for us.” You looked directly at Ben sitting at the table eating ramen. He looked up at you when he felt your cold gaze on him. “I got shot about a week ago before we found this place. Right here.” You traced over your shoulder where you were shot. “It was some dumb kid who didn’t know how to use his gun. Hershel patched it up.”

There was a brief silence in the room before you spoke again. “You people have any guns?” you asked.

Before anyone could answer, the creaking of the cell block gate marked Beth’s entrance into the room with baby Judith in her arms. You moved forwards to keep close to her in case one of the new people tried something.

You weren’t sure where this newfound protectiveness was coming from. Maybe it was the fact that Daryl wasn’t there, or maybe you were trying to prove that you could keep people safe. Maybe you were just afraid of losing more. You quickly tossed that thought out, though. You couldn’t afford to be afraid anymore.

“Who’s the mother?” Sasha asked, realizing that Beth was much too young.

Sasha looked over to you curiously. You shook your head “no,” then looked down at your feet as you recalled that horrific day.

When the rest of the room fell quiet, Sasha realized. “I’m sorry.”

“Man, you people have been through the mill,” Tyreese added.

“Haven’t we all?” Hershel asked.

“It’s only getting worse out there,” Tyreese replied. “Dead are everywhere. And it’s only making the living… less like the living.”

“You’ve been out there this whole time? Hershel asked.

“Our camp was overrun… six, seven weeks ago,” Sasha said.

They all fell quiet before Tyreese looked over at you. “We had a few guns, but we ran out of bullets.”

You nodded your head, looking over to Ben again. “Must’ve used the last one on me.”

From what you’d gathered from talking to the group, the brother and sister, Tyreese and Sasha, seemed trustworthy enough. It was Ben and Allen, his father, you were wary of. They didn’t seem to be particularly interested in making friends with any of you. Tyreese and Sasha seemed to be more insistent on trying to “earn their keep” to stay with your group. It seemed like a good sign to you, but the silence from Ben and Allen, and the fact that Ben had attempted to rob you before shooting you, made you keep your guard up around them.

Ultimately, it wasn’t for you or any of the others to decide. It was Rick who determined that kind of thing, and you were that if he knew one of them had shot at you, he wouldn’t hesitate to throw them out.

You were a bit torn. You could still empathize with their group. They’d been out there on the road for a while, they needed somewhere to stay. On the other hand, you couldn’t trust at least half of their members. Whatever Rick would decide when he got back, you told yourself you’d accept it.

Beyond the prison walls, Rick was already dealing with the decision of letting in another potential group member: Merle Dixon.

Your group was able to rescue Glenn and Maggie from the clutches of the Governor, the man who ran the town of Woodbury, but they’d found out in the process that Merle had joined in with them shortly after he’d been left behind in Atlanta. On the brink of death from blood loss, the Governor took in Merle as his right-hand man (or, left-hand man, since that was the only one he had left).

Merle had helped Daryl and the others escape from Woodbury the night before, but now the group was fighting Daryl’s insistence on bringing his older brother back to the prison.

Maggie, Glenn, Rick, and Daryl now stood together in the middle of a dirt road a mile or so outside of Woodbury as they discussed what to do with him. The others tried to get him to understand that they couldn’t bring Merle back with them given his past behavior and more recent affiliation with the Governor, but Daryl couldn’t accept it. He refused to go back with them unless they took in Merle, too.

“What do you want us to tell (Y/N)?” Glenn asked.

He bit the inside of his lower lip in thought. “She’ll understand,” he said, as if trying to convince himself more than the others. “I’ll come back for her, but I ain’t leavin’ my brother out here alone. No way.”

He strutted back to the car to grab his things before heading off with Merle. He turned off all the thoughts in his head telling him not to do this. He couldn’t think, it would just confuse him more. He was getting too used to thinking around you. Before you came along, he didn’t have to think—Merle did it for him.

Rick caught up with him and tried to talk some sense into him. “There’s gotta be another way.”

“Don’ ask me to leave him,” Daryl said. “I already did that once.”

“We started something last night, you realize that?” Rick continued to hound him as he gathered his things from the trunk of the car.

“No him, no me. That’s all I can say.”

There was a deafening silence between the two men.

“Take care of yourself,” Daryl said. He looked down at his feet. “Little ass-kicker… Carl.” He paused for a moment, looking down at his feet then back at Rick. “Watch out for (Y/N). Tell her I’ll see her again, just… gotta work things out.”

Rick couldn’t even think of a thing to say as he watched Daryl join his brother and walk off into the woods. What’s more, he had absolutely no idea what to tell you.

When you heard the rattling of the prison gates opening that afternoon, your eyes widened and you immediately handed Judith to Beth to finish feeding her.

Running out to the front gates, you met up with Carl, Rick, and Carol as Maggie and Glenn kept driving the car up further, with Michonne in the backseat. You waved at them, happy to see they were all right. As you approached Rick and the others, you noticed Carol appeared to be crying, and then you realized Daryl wasn’t with them, or in the car with Maggie and Glenn.

Rick walked up to you with a solemn look to his face. He put his hand on your good shoulder and pulled you closer to him. “Where is he?” you asked, your head swimming and a lump in your throat beginning to form. You swallowed hard and closed your eyes. “Is—oh God—is he…”

Rick looked down for a moment, then back at you. Carol stood behind him and tried to wipe away her tears. “He’s alive,” Rick said.

You opened your eyes and let out a deep sigh. “Then where is he?”

“He left,” Rick said softly.

Your breath hitched and you could feel the tears already seeping past your waterline. “What? Why?”

“He ran into Merle, back at Woodbury.”

Your eyes darted in confusion as he continued to speak. “He wouldn’t come back with us unless we brought Merle back, too.” Your legs felt like they would give out from underneath you at any second. Rick noticed and brought his hands to your arms to keep you steady. Carol came over and wrapped her arm around your shoulders.

You couldn’t even say anything without it coming out in a garbled mess.

“He—he said he’d come back, (Y/N). I don’t know when, or if he’ll be with Merle… but he couldn’t leave him, and we can’t have Merle here. There was no compromising.”

You closed your eyes tightly, squeezing out the tears as they formed. Rick let go of your arms and Carol pulled you into a tight hug.

“He’ll come back, (Y/N). He will,” Carol whispered.

You let out a stream of strangled whimpers into her shoulder. “How could he just leave?” you asked. It wasn’t a question directed at anyone in particular, just a question for the world. “After everything…”

Rick held a meeting with the new people that night, but you struggled to pay attention. Besides your testimony against Ben, you didn’t have much to say. The others seemed convinced that Tyreese and his group would make good additions, especially since you needed all the help you could get with the new threat of the Governor and with Daryl gone.

When Rick asked what you thought, you simply shrugged.

By the end of the meeting, Rick had seemingly lost it, pointing his gun at Tyreese’s group and yelling at them to get out. It wasn’t how you would’ve dealt with it, but you were too distraught to care enough.

You didn’t eat that night. You just stayed in your cell. You found yourself laying on your bed and staring at one of the motorcycle posters you’d taped onto the brick wall for Daryl’s amusement. The longer you looked at it, the more obscure it became. At one point, it didn’t seem real anymore.

You propped yourself up and ripped down every single image you’d put up in an attempt to make Daryl feel more at home. You sobbed relentlessly, your aching cries echoing into the cell block along with the sound of tearing paper.

You crumpled up every Playboy cartoon and motorcycle poster until you had a big glob of magazine paper in your hands. You threw it somewhere in your cell, then plopped yourself back down onto the bed to cry into your pillow.

Your sobs had been withered down to delicate whimpers and sniffles when you heard a knocking sound coming from the bars of your cell.

You lifted your head and wiped back some of the tears. “Who—who is it?” you asked, your voice still drenched in tears.

“It’s me,” Carol’s voice came out from behind the curtain. “Just bringing you some food.”

“I’m not hungry,” you said, throwing yourself back down on the bed.

You heard the squeaking of the gate as she let herself in. “You still have to eat.”

She set a bowl of ramen down on your nightstand, then sat herself down on your bed with your back still facing her. “You wanna talk about it?”

You shook your head “no,” but she still mentioned it anyway. “I know it doesn’t make any sense, and it hurts like hell, but he’s doing what he thinks he needs to do.”

You sniffled a bit, then slowly propped yourself up to look at Carol. “I thought he loved me,” you said.

Carol looked at you like you were some orphaned kitten, then reached over to move some of the strands of hair from your face. “He does.”

You scoffed. “But Merle… he cares more about him. He must. Why else would he leave for him?”

“Men like Merle… they have a way of getting into your head.”

You laughed a little as you thought of something Daryl had told you. “Daryl always talked about how he thought he owed him… for being the only one to take care of him. His dad was a drunk, and his mom was dead. When Merle was around, that was all he had.”

You curled the sleeve of your sweater around your fingers and wiped away some more tears. “Maybe… maybe he left because he felt like he owed him.” You shook your head. “Doesn’t change the fact that he broke my heart.”

“Hey,” Carol lifted your chin up to look her in the eyes, “he said he’d be back. He just needs to work this out with his brother. Then when he gets back, you can be as mad as him as you want. For now, just know that he loves you, (Y/N).”

If Daryl said he’d be back, he would be back. You knew that. Still, the question of when and under what circumstances, and the fact that he left in the first place, made you shudder. If and when he did come back, though, you knew for sure that you’d give him a piece of your mind. Nevertheless, you did know that he loved you.

You nodded. “It’s funny. I was scared to do this… to love someone again. I—I thought I’d get hurt, that he’d find someone else or just leave. Turns out he did both, in a way.”

Carol pulled you in for a hug. “Oh, (Y/N),” she sighed. “That man is crazy about you. He’s just not thinking straight. He’ll come back, and he’ll learn. Let him figure it out.”

You thought for a moment, then pulled yourself away. “He has to come back,” you said. Carol looked at you curiously. “He left that stupid motorcycle.”

~

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[captain-tch]

Guardian Angel (The Walking Dead x Reader)

You're taking watch when the Governor attacks the prison. One thing is for certain - you will protect your family at all costs.

TW's: death, violence, blood, gore, swearing.

SEASON THREE/FOUR SPOILERS

Rick was out on one of his wanders again. He was chasing ghosts outside the fence, risking not just himself, but all of you. You followed his steps through the scope of your gun, watching him descend closer and closer to the treeline.

You felt your heart squeeze in sympathy.

You understood his pain. Every person at the prison could relate to the agony of losing a loved one. It ripped you apart, the scar never fully healing. For a while even the thought of them tears it open again, letting the wound weep. For all of the pain, suffering and grief you had seen, you hadn't seen anyone react this way.

He wasn't even being careful. You could see that he carried some guns; even from this distance you could tell he was mindlessly walking. Unlike the other times where you went beyond the walls, and in the walls too, his hands would sit on his hips, close to his gun. They were buried in his pockets.

Sighing, you turned your scope to the area around him. Like a guardian angel you would watch over him, protecting him from the dangers he wouldn't see.

From outside the watch tower, you could hear the low chatter of Carol and Axel. Carl and Beth were laughing, playing around the prison courtyard. There weren't many walkers around. If you closed your eyes, you could pretend for a moment that everything was back to normal.

Your eyes snapped open - you were never really one to fall victim to pipe dreams.

A glint of metal caught your attention, from the corner of your eye. Curious, you turned your scope in that direction, taking a moment to take in what you saw. At the edge of the trees, all you could see was the leaves and dirt. You squinted to try and see further into the shadows.

The light caught your attention again.

You did a double take. Fear shot into your heart, muscles tensing. You spun around, mouth opening wide in a warning.

"Gov-!"

One moment you were standing upright, the next you were tumbling backwards. The gun slipped from your grasp, clattering to the floor. Your back collided harshly with the concrete. Fire spread across your back and shoulder. You grunted in pain, trying to force yourself upright.

When you leaned on your left arm to prop yourself up, you cried out. Your arm gave way and soon you were back on the ground, shivers spreading down your spine.

You didn't dare look at your shoulder.

A loud gunshot shattered the silence.

Rick. Carol. Axel. Beth. Carl. Hershel. Michonne. Maggie.

Dread filled you. You crawled across the floor, using your good arm to propel you. Gritting your teeth distracted you from the throb pulsating down your entire right side. You swiped up your gun, resting it on the ground as you lined up the scope once again.

The Governor stood smiling, weapon in his hand.

Red blurred your vision. After everything he had done, how dare he try to disturb your paradise. How dare he destroy the thing you had all worked so hard, lost so much, to build. The man was a psychopath, grinning in the face of suffering.

Your finger twitched on the trigger.

Rick. Carol. Axel. Beth. Carl. Hershel. Michonne. Maggie.

That shot could have been aimed at any one of them. Any of them could have fallen. The only one you knew to be truly safe was Glenn, off on a suicide mission chasing down the very man taunting you all.

You needed to know who he hit, before you spilled his blood. If you were to become a murderer, you wanted to picture in your mind the one you needed to avenge as you pulled the trigger.

Shuffling backwards, you cradled the gun in your lap. You kept pushing yourself until your back hit the wall, ignoring the flare of agony that blossomed. Breathing deep, you used your legs and good arm to pull yourself upright.

You crept towards the edge of the watchtower, peeking down at the scenes below in the courtyard. What was left of Axel was being used to shield Carol from the torrent of bullets flying at her. Beth and Carl were hiding behind the benches. You had no idea if Rick was okay, or where the others were.

Almost like she sensed your concerns, Maggie ran out of the prison, tossing a gun to Beth. They covered Carol while she ran to safety, leaving Axel's bullet ridden body.

Gulping, you aligned your scope. You could see Rick laying low outside of the fence, aiming at a hidden threat. Hershel was crouched near by, his body pressed close to the grass. Michonne had taken cover behind the turned over prison bus.

Shaking hands jarred your scope. You held your breath, gliding the scope over the trees near Rick. The forest that once enchanted you made dread course through your heart. Shadows that you once imagined hid peace and serenity were now your very demise.

Another shower of bullets sprayed at Rick. You kept your eyes peeled for the flash of a gun, pausing when you saw the assailant. A young man, a baseball cap tipped backwards on his head. He held the gun confidently in his eyes, training his focus on Rick.

Sucking in a large gulp of air, you lined up your shot. Your sights lingered on his head, finger teasing the trigger.

He let off another round of shots in Rick's direction.

Fuck this, you thought. Without a seconds hesitation, you pushed the trigger. The bullet whizzed past the man's head, lodging itself into the tree just mere inches from him. He froze for a moment, squinting up at the Guard tower.

"Rick, run!" You screamed, praying your voice wasn't drowned out by the gunfire.

He seemed to take advantage of the opportunity, starting to shuffle in the grass closer towards the prison gate. Your heart squeezed in fear as the man lined up the shot again.

You turned back to the man. Your sights lingered on his head, finger pausing on the trigger. Did this man have a family? Did he have people who loved him?

Could you kill a man without knowing his name?

Cursing, your moved your sights towards the man's hand. This time your trigger finger pressed true, the bullet flying towards him. Instantly the man was on his knees, gun fallen out of his grasp. Blood squirted from his hand.

Relief coursed through you. At least that was one less person shooting at you.

You pressed yourself back against the wall, keeping a keen ear out for more gun shots. With each passing moment, all you could hear was the pounding in your ears. Muscles tense, you waited.

A roar of an engine cut the silence like a knife.

A small smile curled onto your lips. Glenn had finally come back from his suicide mission of trying to kill the Governor. You had to commend the man on his impeccable timing.

You turned your head around the corner, smile dropping at the sight of an unfamiliar van. All you could do was stare, the scene playing out in slow motion as the van pummelled into the fence by Rick, shattering any hope of sanctuary.

It came to a sudden stop in the fields beyond the courtyard. You watched with bated breath.

Slowly, you lifted up the sights on your gun. Someone dressed in armour jumped out of the van, moving towards the back. A makeshift ramp had been attached to it, dropping with a resounding bang.

Feet shuffled out of the van. You kept your gun trained on them, tracing their steps as they exited into the light. It was a walker.

Rage bubbled in your chest.

Hyper focused, you searched for a hint of the Governor. He was impossible hit from this angle. If you shot him from there...

Instinctively, you stepped out onto the platform, finding the Governor. You had no time to waste, no time to ponder how this kill would finally mark you a murderer, as you lined up the shot.

Your shoulder screamed in agony as the sniper rested on it. The trigger was pressed before your body could comprehend what was happened. Your shoulder twitched at the wrong time, the wrong moment, signing your death warrant.

The world seemed to still around you. You couldn't hear the panic of the group, the moans of the undead, the heaving of your own breaths. All you could focus on was the bullet that landed past the Governor, and sinking firmly into the car besides him.

Even from this distance, you swore your eyes connected with his. You started stumbling backwards, desperately seeking the safety of the watch tower. Your mind and body screamed at you to dive out of the line of fire, to keep the blood pumping in your body and to face the man's wrath another day.

You didn't have enough time to duck. You saw him cock his gun, aiming it directly towards you, and firing.

Primitive instincts controlled your muscles. You danced backwards just in time to avoid the onslaught of bullets, cowering as concrete and dust plumed around you.

Your shoulder screamed in agony. Gritting your teeth, you spared a glance down. A hole had been torn through your shirt, leaving behind a wound seeping blood. You couldn't even tell where the bullet had hit you.

Grunting, you ripped the bottom half of your shirt. Wrapping it as tightly as you could, you tried to remind yourself the pain was good. Pain meant you weren't dead.

The torrent of gun fire had halted. You realised he must need to reload, biting back your fear and peeking your head around the corner.

You froze.

It felt like you were glued in place. The Governor had his gun up, a smile adorning his face. The silence was a ruse. He wanted to lure you out. At that moment, you felt like the mouse, and he was the cat.

He fired the shot.

For the second time that day, you collapsed backwards. Pain unlike anything else you had ever known consumed you. A hot poker was digging into the skin of your neck, spreading the inferno around your body. Clumsily, your hand went to your neck. Blood squirted beneath your grip. Your hand quickly became slick.

Rick. Carol. Axel. Beth. Carl. Hershel. Michonne. Maggie.

Stumbling to your feet, you no longer cared for finding cover. The Governor didn't care about hunting you down anymore, having completed his mission. You swayed as you walked towards the door, nearly toppling over when you twisted the door handle.

Each step felt like a mile.

Rick. Carol. Axel. Beth. Carl. Hershel. Michonne. Maggie.

You forced yourself out of the door, all but falling down the stairs. Laying at the bottom, you didn't even have the energy to cry out.

"Y/N!" Carl spun towards you, eyes wide. Darting from his hiding spot, he joined your side, eyes raking your state. You could only imagine how pitiful you looked.

"You look like you've seen a ghost." A smile, akin to a grimace, cracked your features.

He didn't smile back. He cautiously glanced around, grabbed your arm and pulling it over his shoulder. A cry slipped past your lips, him tugging your wounded shoulder. He all but carried you to safety, gently setting you down. You couldn't feel the heat of the floor burn your back.

Carol appeared at your side. She smiled down tenderly at you, a hand stroking your face. You leaned into her touch, sighing, not realising your tears were making tracks in the blood. You tried to focus on the feeling of her soft caress, or the anchoring weight of her hand.

Your hand was getting too wet. Your arm was tired. You were tired.

The hand pressing on your wound loosened.

A rushing river of blood started to leak. Carl leaped forwards, hands pressing down on your neck. Soon, you couldn't tell where your blood and his hands began.

All you could see was Carl desperately trying to keep your blood inside your body. A weak smile settled on your lips. With a bloodied hand, you reached up, grabbing his chin.

You didn't have the energy to speak. You mouthed a reassurance to him. It's okay.

A singular tear tracked down Carol's face.

"No, we can't lose you too." Carl looked around to people you couldn't see. You tried to lift your head to see, only to be met with an impenetrable wall of pain. "You can do something, right?"

"I'm sorry, son." The telltale soft, country gruff of Hershel cemented your fate. Your eyes watered.

You were going to die.

You had survived escaping Atlanta, the CDC, the farm, the never ending winter. Now you were going to have died at the hands of a madman. Of all the ways for it to have happened, you never imagined it like this.

Footsteps slapped on the pavement, followed by a sharp inhale of breath. Rick, Daryl and Merle appeared above you. You were convinced Daryl and Merle were a mirage - they disappeared days ago. They couldn't be here. It must be because of the blood loss, you reasoned with yourself.

Rick's face was scrunched tight, gaze lingering on the blood coating your skin. Daryl's face remained impassive, the only indication of any emotion being the slight glint in his eyes. Even Merle had nothing to say for once.

A sudden burst of energy spread through you. You reached forward, snatching at Rick's pant leg frantically.

"You kill that bastard for what he did to our family."

The energy was gone as quickly as it had come. You slumped down, all pain ebbing from your body. You had finally succumbed to Death's scythe.

When Rick saw Michonne's katana slide through the Governor months later, he lost nearly everything. But even with the darkness looming, the losses taking their toll, he took a little comfort in knowing you could now rest easy, your dying wish fulfilled. That bastard paid for what he did to your family.

Rick just wished there was never a price to pay.

the walking dead masterlist

[gilverrwrites]

Which one of the Flash’s Rogues (and Eobard) is the best at eating someone out? Can you rank them?

Once again, only mentioning rogues who are/have been official members of ‘The Rogues’, + Eobard, and only characters I know well enough to have opinions on. Haven’t included Captain Boomerang,but you can find my NSFW headcanons for him here ━ [Link]

Mirror Master (E.M) dead last

Evan doesn’t eat pussy and he’s a right dick about it.

Heat Wave (M.R) 7th

Doesn’t really eat pussy (cause he much prefers dick), but he will for the right person. Prefers to lie back, hold tight to the warm flesh of your thighs, and let you ride his face, taking whatever you need from him.

Mirror Master (S.S) 6th

The true neutral of the bunch. He’s a bit on the selfish side, more concerned with his own pleasure when it comes to sex, so when it comes time for your turn it’s very A -> B, but he’s not without passion nor technique.

The Trickster (A.W) 5th

It’s not for lack of trying. Axel loves to go down on you and will do it for hours. He starts out enthusiastic, but he gets so lost in it, and therein lies the problem. He gets so dreamy and sloppy, that he barely notices how the puddle of his saliva decreases your sensitivity. Hardly pays any heed to how you’re bucking your hips and cooing his name; trying to get his tongue half an inch higher. Sometimes with Axel, you just have to thread your fingers in his hair and take the reins.

[Reader more about Axel's oral fixation here!]

Captain Cold (L.S) 4th

Also not much of a pussy eater, mainly because the bulk of his sexual experience comes from one-night stands, and going down on people isn't a classic part of his routine, but, by god, when he finds a fill time partner who likes their pussy ate, he dedicates himself to it.

This man took apart and rebuilt his first stolen freeze ray 100 times to learn how it worked inside and out.

He will memorise every inch of your pussy, every jerk of your body, and he will practice every flick of his tongue that gets a reaction out of you over and over until he knows exactly how to treat you right.

Golden Glider (L.S) 3rd

Lisa knows her way around a pussy, and she would be ranked higher, were she not a pillow princess.

When she puts in the effort, she goes all out. It can take hours, she loves to keep you on edge, gently exploring your body with her fingers as she teases you with her tongue, lapping and kneading and sucking at your clit until can't hold back the force of your pleasure any longer.

The Trickster (G.G) 2nd

If speedsters didn’t exist he would totally claim the #1 spot. James is a performer at heart and he lives to do 2 things; to please, and to leave you wanting more.

He’ll do that by learning exactly what makes your toes curl and your mouth run with ‘please, please oh fuck, please.’ His only downfall is that he also loves to brag, and so he’ll often goad about how he’s got you curled around his finger while his face is still slick with your juices.

Which is only a negative if you're not into being teased and/or degraded in bed.

Professor Zoom (E.T) 1st

Don’t get me wrong here, I don’t think Eobard makes a habit out of eating pussy often, but when he does ohhh, OH, OHHHH~ boy, does he make a meal out of it. Eobard doesn’t half-ass anything, and any skills he may be lacking in are made up for by the fact that he can vibrate.

[justabigassnerd]

I’m proud of ya kid

Pairing - Daryl Dixon x teen!reader

Word count - 5,683

Warnings - TWD style violence, injuries, blood, guns, swearing, angst

Summary - you go hunting and end up with a gunshot wound, you run into the one person you thought you wouldn't see again

A/N - so this is the fic I’ve had planned for a while... The idea came to me while I was watching season 9 of TWD and guess what? I made it ANGSTY. This was a fic I was super duper excited to write and I hope I did my own idea justice. I doubt y’all care but as I am on my second rewatch of TWD (already on season 4 bitches) I’ve been kinda coming up with ideas for maybe Daryl and the readers relationship in certain eras of the show so if y’all wanted to see a certain bit e.g. post prison where everyone makes their way to Terminus I’d be more than happy to write it. I want to thank Moosey as well because she has been a massive help with my constant questions and ideas and helping me plan this fic (and she doesn’t even watch TWD she’s just that helpful and kind) I can’t express how grateful I am to have her as my friend. Love ya tons Moose! Anyway, as per y’all, please leave requests and enjoy!

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Five years and a half years. That’s how long it has been since you last saw Rick Grimes before he died, he sacrificed himself by blowing up the bridge the communities had spent so long building to stop a herd of walkers from reaching Hilltop. Since then the communities of Alexandria, Hilltop and the Kingdom stopped working together, you had no clue as to why, but the death of Rick caused a rift between them. The thing that hurt you most however was that a year after Rick died, you also stopped seeing Daryl Dixon too. At first it was hardly noticeable, he’d leave for a bit but come back often enough to be seen by everyone but over time he drifted away and soon stopped returning to Alexandria altogether, breaking your heart. You had known Daryl since the start, you were nine when the dead rose to eat the living and he had found you wandering in the woods with Merle after you escaped your foster house after the people looking after you left at the first sign of danger. Merle insisted that taking a little girl was a bad idea and that they should just leave you to fend for yourself but Daryl ignored his brothers harsh words and offered to look after you, not long after that you met the others at the quarry and you made friends with them all but everyone could tell Daryl was the person you liked most. Over time the two of you grew closer and you even started to see him as a father figure but you never told him out of fear he’d not take it well so you just kept it to yourself. When Daryl first stopped coming back to Alexandria you thought it would be like that time at the prison where he left with Rick, Oscar and Michonne to save Glenn and Maggie but when they returned Daryl wasn’t with them. Carol was the one to tell you that he hadn’t come back and that he chose Merle over the group back at the prison. You didn’t leave your cell for a couple of days and the day you came out was the day he came back. The Governor attacked the prison, killing Axel and destroying the first fence and filling the field with walkers. You hadn’t noticed Daryl’s return until after the Governor had retreated and Glenn had returned, when you saw him you immediately went back to your cell and sat with Carl who wondered why you’d left in such a hurry. He knew you were upset about Daryl leaving but he thought you’d be happy to see him return, you told him that you were happy he was back but you were still upset to think that he left without giving the group a second thought. You felt betrayed and Daryl knew it, he gave you space for the first two days after he came back but soon enough Carol told him to talk to you, she knew how upset you were that he left and she needed Daryl to actually talk to you, to make things right. Daryl found you in your cell with Carl reading comic books and you tensed up when you heard his voice, asking Carl if he could speak to you alone. He apologised for leaving and explained why he did it and you understood, you knew Merle was Daryl’s blood and after what happened in Atlanta, he wasn’t willing to leave him again. You didn’t know what to say in that moment, so you offered Daryl a small smile and a ‘thank you’ for talking to you. Within an hour your relationship was back on track and it was like nothing ever happened.

Every night alone in the house both you and Daryl shared in Alexandria upset you further, you hoped and prayed it was like the prison but as time pushed on, you lost hope. You tried looking for him outside the walls a couple of times but after not finding a single clue to his whereabouts you shifted your energy onto other things. You helped raise Judith, you attempted to teach her how to use a bow and arrow just like Daryl did all those years ago with you but she much preferred to use her father’s Colt Python which you couldn’t blame her for, she was a natural with it. When you weren’t looking after Judith you were going on runs with Aaron, Rosita and Michonne or hunting by yourself. Daryl had taught you how to track effectively and how to skin your kills, you tended to hunt alone as it was much easier and meant there was a smaller chance of spooking the animal and losing it. Sometimes you even were put in charge of watching Negan in his cell, you were well aware of the evil he had done, you saw him kill Glenn and Abraham and then take Daryl to the Sanctuary but you couldn’t help but feel bad for him. He’d lost so much after the war and now he was a prisoner, you found over time that he responded much better to you and you even found yourself enjoying his company every now and again. You were now eighteen and this is the life you know, despite all this and how long it’s been since Daryl left you couldn’t help but miss him terribly and hope he’d come back one day.

“Where are you going y/n?” You turn around as you approach the gate to see Judith jogging over to meet you.

“I’m going out for a hunt, if you could let Michonne know that’d be great.” You say, adjusting your bow on your back and double checking you have your handgun and hunting knife with you. The hunting knife was one of Daryl’s old ones he gave to you when he decided you needed to learn how to defend yourself back at Hershel’s farm. It was one of your prized possessions and it never left your sight.

“Can I come?” Judith asks, looking up at you with her puppy-dog eyes causing you to let out a chuckle.

“Not today Judith, I promise I’ll take you one day but not now, besides I’ll be back before nightfall.” You promise, knocking her hat over her eyes as she lets out a laugh. Judith quickly pushes the hat back onto her head before giving you a hug which you gladly return. When she releases you and steps back you turn around and Eugene opens the gate for you to walk out which you do. Once the gate is closed behind you, you make a beeline for the woods, your eyes immediately falling to the ground to search for any kind of animal tracks. You wander quite deep into the woods before you find any tracks and when you spot a deer’s tracks you follow them, removing your bow from your back and getting an arrow out of your quiver ready for when you find the deer. Eventually you see the buck standing still, its ears twitching as it listens out for danger. You quietly draw an arrow back on your bow and take a small step closer to get a good shot at it. As you step closer you trip over a small log you hadn’t noticed while being fixated on the deer. You fall to the floor and the deer runs off, having heard your fall. You groan as you get up, a mixture of pain and frustration after tracking the deer for as long as you had and now it’s gone. Once you’re back on your feet a shot rings out and a burning pain spreads over your side and you collapse to the floor. Your hands find your wound and you immediately press a hand on it, putting pressure on it to slow the blood flow. You hear the rustle of leaves and a man comes into your vision, he’s shocked as he looks down at you and you could see the gun in his hand leading you to realise he’s the one who shot you.

“Oh shit, you’re a kid. I just shot a kid! I thought you were a biter I didn’t-” The man says, backing away as he takes in what he’s done. Before you could even ask him for help, he turned around and bolted, leaving you bleeding out in the middle of the woods. You remain lying on the floor for a minute before you force yourself to your feet, your hand clutching at the bullet hole and to your relief you find an exit wound on your back. You head back in the direction you came, attempting to make it back to Alexandria. As you wandered you found yourself getting lightheaded, so you use your hunting knife to cut off your shirt sleeves to tie them around your waist to slow the blood flow further. Eventually you lean against a tree and slide down until you’re sat on the floor, you were sure you were going to die here, alone in the woods. You hoped no one that knew you was going to find you after you turned because you didn’t want anyone to have to go through that. You inspected your injury once more and winced at the sight before tightening your makeshift bandage around it once more. Before anything else could happen, you heard barking and looked up to see a dog stood in front of you.

“Shhh, I don’t want the walkers to find me.” You whisper to the dog, wincing as you try to sit up further but the dog ignores you, continuing to bark while its tail wagged madly. You were confused as to why it was just barking instead of tearing into you, lots of dogs now were desperate and would kill and eat a person given the chance but this one seemed well fed and its tail was wagging which you assumed was a sign of friendliness as it hadn’t moved to attack you yet.

“Dog! What are you-” You heard a familiar voice ask and you look up to see someone you never thought you’d never see again.

“Daryl?” You ask, looking up at the man in front of you. He hadn’t changed much besides the red scar going from above his left eyebrow to his cheekbone.

“y/n?” Daryl quickly became shocked when he realised it was you and immediately helped you to your feet and wrapped an arm around you as means of support. He whistled for the dog you assumed was his and he was by Daryl’s side in an instant, leading the way while Daryl took you to his camp.

When you arrived at Daryl’s camp, he sat you in front of the fire and went to his tent to grab some medical supplies before returning to your side. He removed the makeshift bandage and barely muttered an apology when you winced and set to work bandaging and cleaning your wound properly and you managed to sit still most of the time, your brain still reeling from the fact that Daryl was here, right beside you.

“What the hell were ya doin’ out there all alone? You coulda died out there if I wasn’t there.” Daryl said as he finished patching you up, making you look up at him in shock. You’d just seen him for the first time in years and his first instinct is to scold you for being out in the woods?

“Yes, Daryl because I love hunting to provide for my family and then getting shot by some random ass survivor who runs away when he sees he’s shot a kid.” You snap, immediately regretting your reaction because you didn’t want your reunion to consist of arguing.

“Some guy out there shot you?” Daryl asked, his voice switching from angry to concerned very quickly as he looks up at you from your injury.

“What you think I did this myself?” You manage to joke, knowing Daryl and Rick taught you the ins and outs of gun safety when Shane decided at the farm that everyone should be able to handle a firearm. You notice Daryl smirk slightly, but he attempts to hide it behind his hair.

“Look, you should get some rest. You must’ve lost a decent amount of blood out there.” Daryl says, quickly changing the subject as he packs away the medical stuff.

“I gotta get back to Alexandria.” You say, standing up but then immediately sitting down when your vision swims, you hated the fact that Daryl was right but you promised Judith you’d be back before nightfall and judging where the sun was you only had a couple of hours of light left.

“I’ll take ya back to Alexandria when I think you’re okay. You need to rest now.” Daryl insists, helping you up and to his spare tent he has pitched which made you wonder why he had one up. You lie down on the mat and pull the blanket over you, trying to find the most comfortable way to sleep without opening your wound. Once you were comfortable however, it took you no time to fall asleep, the exhaustion and blood loss catching up to you quickly.

When Daryl was positive you were asleep, he picked up his crossbow and loaded it before turning to Dog.

“You keep an eye on ‘er okay? Bark if anythin’ happens.” Daryl tells his loyal companion, stroking the top of his head before heading out into the woods to where he found you. Once he found where he found you he followed your tracks backwards until he found a second set of tracks, definitely belonging to someone else and judging how close they were to yours he had to guess they belonged to the survivor who shot you and left you for dead. Daryl followed the tracks until he saw a man alone, in a camp setup not too different to his own. As Daryl got closer, he unloaded his crossbow and slung it over his shoulder to not appear threatening to the other survivor. When he got closer, he purposely stepped on a twig and when the survivor turned around with his pistol raised Daryl simply held up his hands in surrender and stayed put until the man lowered his weapon.

“Sorry I scared ya. I’m looking for someone, don’t suppose you’ve seen a kid around here? We were huntin’ together, and she wandered off, musta seen somethin’ but now I can’t find ‘er.” Daryl asks, giving a description of you while lowering his hands and stepping into the camp. He sees the hidden panic in the man’s eyes which he hides behind a neutral expression that may have fooled many but not Daryl.

“No man I haven’t seen anyone looking like that. You don’t get many people out here besides the biters, I’d remember seeing an alive person.” The man says, laughing to cover up his nervousness which Daryl picks up in an instant. Daryl was never the most social person, but he’s always been good at reading people and could tell when people were hiding something.

“Bullshit.” Daryl mutters, making the man cock an eyebrow and turn to look at Daryl.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” The man asks.

“I said bullshit. I know you saw ‘er and I also know you shot and left ‘er for dead. You’re lucky I found ‘er when I did because if I went out there and found ‘er as a walker I’d- well you sure as hell wouldn’t be alive right now. I’ve been looking after ‘er since the start of all this. Hell, she might as well be my own kid after everythin’ we’ve been through. If I ever find out you’ve been near ‘er or hurt ‘er again, I’m gonna make you wish you were dead.” Daryl growls, stepping so close to the man that their faces are practically touching as he stares him down. The other man cowers in fear, spluttering apologies and how he didn’t mean to hurt you while his hands instinctively moved to protect his face. Daryl was also in shock at the fact he confessed to someone how he thought of you as his own, he’d never told anyone, not even Rick or Carol. Daryl shook himself out of his thoughts and focused his attention on the now sobbing man and backed off slightly.

“I’m sorry, I really am. I didn’t know, I thought she was a biter and when she went down that’s when I realised, I fucked up.” The man apologises again moving his hands from his face when he notices Daryl backing down.

“You’re damn right you fucked up, you shoulda helped ‘er. She was bleeding out and you just ran away. It’s a wonder you’ve survived this long.” Daryl says, glaring at the man as his thoughts fell back to Rick, a man who should still be alive to raise his children and the man he caused the death of. Seeing that the man was now no longer any sort of threat to you or anyone else he cared about Daryl turned and walked away, checking over his shoulder every so often to make sure he wasn’t being tailed in case the man’s blubbering was all an act. Night was falling as Daryl returned to his camp and he peeked in your tent to make sure you were okay and he saw Dog curled up at your side, bringing a smile to his face and as he moves away from the tent he notices Dog wake up, his tail lightly thumping against the woodland floor.

“Shh, don’t wake y/n up. You stay there boy.” Daryl says to the dog whose eyes close again and his tail stops wagging, falling asleep once again. Daryl then moves to put out the fire in the camp before heading to bed himself.

You woke up the next morning feeling significantly better than you did the day before, your injury still hurt when you moved but for the most part it was bearable. You were shocked to see Daryl’s dog curled up by your side as you had no recollection of him being anywhere near you when you fell asleep but it still brought a small smile to your face as you stroked the dog tenderly, watching as he yawns and licks your hand. You decide to get up and as you leave the tent you notice Daryl making something over the fire, his back to you. You approach the fire and sit on the log next to him.

“Mornin’.” Daryl grunts, all his attention focused on the stew bubbling over the fire.

“Morning Daryl.” You reply, falling silent after as you watch Daryl stir the food in the pot. You wanted to talk but you didn’t even know how to initiate a conversation with him anymore after how long it’s been. The two of you sit in silence until Daryl hands you a bowl filled with the stew he cooked up; you break the silence by thanking him before eating your food.

“I’ll take ya back to Alexandria today. It’s safer for you there, Siddiq can look at that and deal with it better than I have.” Daryl says once he’s finished eating, motioning at your injury with the spoon in his hand.

“Before we go, can we just talk? Like we used to?” You ask, fiddling with your hands until Dog comes trotting over, sitting himself in between your legs and you run a hand through his fur as he pants happily, his tail hitting your leg with each wag.

“Ain’t much to talk ‘bout.” Daryl grumbles in response as he places his bowl on the floor.

“Come on Daryl, we haven’t seen each other in years and now you want to get rid of me?” You say, temporarily stopping your stroking of Dog who grumbles until you continue to stroke him.

“It ain’t that-”

“It isn’t? It sure feels like it.” You snap, not allowing Daryl to finish speaking.

“You really wanna leave that untreated?” Daryl snaps back. You knew there was virtually no talking him out of wanting to take you back to Alexandria as soon as possible and while you could see his logic you were just as stubborn as him and you weren’t willing to let up. A silence falls over the two of you for a minute or so before you choose to speak up.

“I miss you.” You say, your voice barely loud enough for Daryl to hear but you knew he did because he turned to look at you with a soft expression.

“You’ve been there since the start and you looked after me when you had no reason to, you could’ve just listened to Merle and left me there in the woods but you didn’t. You taught me how to defend myself and how to provide for myself and others. You’ve been there for me for so long and the moment I can be there for you… you disappear. I know Rick’s death was hard on you, but it’s not your fault and you shouldn’t be distancing yourself from the people who care about you. Do you know how many times Judith has asked me when you’re coming back? I hate having to tell her that I just don’t know because she knows I’ve looked for you before. Michonne kept telling me you’d come back but I figured it out over time that she was just saying it so I wouldn’t risk my ass out there trying to find you.” You say, allowing every thought and emotion you’ve bottled up to come out in your rant and as you go you feel a mixture of angry and sad tears welling in your eyes as you turn away staring at the ground as Dog turns around and rests his head on your leg almost like he sensed your sadness. You couldn’t bear to look at Daryl, if he didn’t hate you already, he almost definitely would now.

“Kid, I didn’t mean to leave, jus’ didn’t seem right to go back to Alexandria without him. ‘N over time I just remembered how much better I am out here.” Daryl says, he’d never been good in situations when people let all their emotions out but he realised how much his departure hurt you and he wanted to make the effort to make things right again.

“I know you wanted to find him, if anyone deserves to be buried properly it’s him but Michonne doesn’t blame you for it and she constantly worried about you back home. When she found out I was sneaking out to look for you I was banned from runs and hunting for a month, Michonne couldn’t stand the thought of losing someone else. It’s not just me who missed and worried about you Daryl. We all did.” You reply, your focus solely on Dog as he looks up at you with his gentle, brown eyes.

“I miss you guys too.” Daryl admits after a moment of silence between the two of you, you’re taken aback by his statement as it’s something you’d never hear him say in a million years.

“Why don’t you spend the night at Alexandria? It’s safer than out here and there’s plenty of space for Dog to run around while not at risk of walkers. Judith and the others would love to see you.” You propose, turning to look at Daryl.

“I don’t know kid.” Daryl says, looking away at the fire.

“Just one night, you can leave the next morning just come see everyone.” You plead, wanting to make sure the others got to see Daryl too.

“Fine, might do me some good ta see ‘em.” Daryl says finally, standing up and moving to sort his stuff out while you smile. You get up soon after to gather your own stuff and Dog starts to get the hint that you’re going somewhere so he’s up on his feet, sniffing your bow and looking up you curiously.

“You’re coming too buddy, don’t you worry. Judith and RJ will love you, Gracie too actually. Hell make that all the kids.” You say, smiling down at him as he wags his tail furiously, licking your hand and jumping up at you. While he jumped up, he accidently caught your injury with his claws making you wince and pull away, your hand immediately grabbing your side.

“You okay?” Daryl asked, walking over to you with a worried expression.

“Yeah, Dog just got a bit excited and caught my injury. It’s okay now.” You say, the pain still lingering but you opt not to worry Daryl further, but you could tell it was already too late for that.

“We better get a move on then, the sooner Siddiq looks at that the better.” Daryl says, picking up the last of his things before you make a move to head back to Alexandria. The walk back to Alexandria wasn’t as long as you thought it would be considering how far you went into the woods to find the deer in the first place but you injury throbbed with each step and you found your hand didn’t leave its place on your wound, you noticed Daryl looking over at you multiple times as you made your way back home but you knew he was just falling back into his old habits of constantly checking to make sure you were still there and that you were okay. When the familiar walls of Alexandria come into your view a large smile crossed your face and when you left the woods you called up to Rosita who you noticed was on guard duty.

“y/n? You had us worried sick, Judith said you were meant to be back before nightfall yesterday. Where the hell where y- Daryl?” Rosita says, at first relieved to see you alive but her relief quickly turned to shock when she saw Daryl stood with you, Dog also by your side.

“Got shot by some guy out there, would’ve bled out if Daryl hadn’t found me.” You explain as you approach the gate which is opened by Aaron who seems equally as relieved to see you alive. As soon as you and Daryl step into Alexandria Judith seems to appear from nowhere and barrel into you for a hug which you quickly return, ignoring the pain flaring up in your side.

“You promised you’d be back before nightfall why didn’t you come back? I was worried about you.” Judith says, her face muffled by your shirt as you hold her close, mentally hitting yourself for causing her so much grief.

“I’m sorry Judith, I really thought I’d make it back, but some idiot out there shot me and Daryl saved me, made me spend the night at his camp and brought me back here. I’m sorry I had you so worried.” You apologise to the young girl who releases you at the mention of Daryl before realising he’s stood just behind you and then she gives him an equally as large hug, taking him aback massively before he returns the hug too. Michonne then approaches you, asking where you where before noticing Daryl and the way you were holding your side and mentally puts things together.

“Come on, lets go to Siddiq.” Michonne says, motioning with her head towards where the infirmary is and you walk off, Dog and Judith hot on your heels while Michonne and Daryl walk behind at a slightly slower pace.

“They’ve grown up.” Daryl comments as you and Judith talk to each other, with you bumping Judith with your uninjured side as you laugh.

“Yeah, they have. y/n’s been a massive help these past few years. You clearly taught her well.” Michonne replies as you approach the infirmary and enter with Judith.

“Jus’ taught ‘er all I could, couldn’t risk ‘er gettin’ lost and not knowin’ how to find ‘er way back home or somethin’.” Daryl says as they approach the doors to the infirmary where Dog is sat outside, having been told to stay outside by you. Daryl and Michonne stay outside to converse more while Siddiq stitches up your wound, talking about how lucky you were that Daryl found you when he did. Once he was done, he suggested you don’t hunt or go on runs to allow yourself time to heal which you initially protest but after Judith suggests just doing guard duty you back down. You and Judith head back outside to see Daryl and Michonne chatting but they stop when they notice you. Dog greets you happily like you’d been gone for hours as opposed to minutes.

“We should get something to eat, you should both come to ours.” Michonne says, addressing you and Daryl to which the both of you nod, following Michonne and Judith back to their house where RJ is sat in the living room, he smiled at the sight of you and got excited seeing Dog who ran over to him and sat next to him. You choose to sit with Judith and RJ with Dog while Daryl and Michonne make something for dinner. Once the dinner is made you sit with RJ, Judith, Michonne and Daryl and dig into your meal. As soon as you finished you washed your plate and told Michonne that you were heading home.

“You get some rest okay? That means no runs or hunts okay?” Michonne says, watching as you move to the front door.

“Siddiq said that too, don’t worry I’ll stay here and do what I can here.” You say, bidding a goodbye to the children before Daryl decides he’s coming with you too and along with him you’d obviously get Dog tagging along. When you reach your house, you sit on the porch steps as it grows dark instead of heading inside with Daryl. You watch the sky grow darker and the stars come out before you heard the door open behind you and you see Daryl sit beside you.

“You sure you’re okay?” Daryl asks softly, looking over at you with a worried expression.

“Yeah I promise I’m okay.” You reply, your eyes fixed on the stars as they start to shimmer and shine in the darkness.

“You know I never knew my real parents? They died when I was little, before all this went down, I was in and out of foster homes. The people I was with at the start dropped me and left when things went south and that’s how I ended up in the woods that day you and Merle found me. You looked after me when you had no reason too. I guess what I’m trying to say is, you kinda became my father figure growing up and I hated it when you disappeared because you’d been around so long and done so much for me but I couldn’t help you in return. I let you down and I’m sorry Daryl.” You say, your eyes remaining fixed on the stars as you tried to stop the tears from welling up in your eyes and when Daryl noticed them his heart broke, he didn’t know you viewed him as a father figure and he hated how you felt like you let him down when he chose to stop returning to Alexandria.

“Ain’t your fault. None of it is, don’t ever let yourself think that. Remember when we lost the prison? I didn’t know what to do because I thought you were dead, Beth had ta drag me around everywhere. That’s when I realised, I thought of you as my own kid. I’m sorry I hurt ya by not coming back.” Daryl says, watching as you blink furiously, trying to stop the tears that now are rolling down your cheeks.

“If you prefer living out there, I’m not going to stop you, it would just be nice to see you every so often.” You reply, lifting your hand to wipe your tears away. Daryl wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you into a side hug which you allow, your gaze still up at the sky. You were grateful for a lot in the world you lived in but Daryl was definitely the top of the list because if it wasn’t for him you wouldn’t be alive and he took you in in a world were having extra mouths to feed was a hinderance instead of a help. You hear a tapping of claws on the deck and Dog shoves his head in between the two of you, making you laugh and move away as Dog tries to lick your face and you notice Daryl laughing too as he strokes Dog. You knew you couldn’t force Daryl to stay in Alexandria if he didn’t want to but you were glad he now knew about the impact he had on you growing up and that he viewed you as his own. When the two of you had decided the conversation was finished as you had both said everything you needed to say you decided to head to bed. As you head into your room Dog decided he wanted to spend the night in your room and he hops up on your bed, bringing a smile to your face. Before you close your door, you hear Daryl say your name, causing you to peek your head out into the corridor where Daryl is stood.

“I’m proud of ya kid.” He says simply, a small smile on his face before he heads into his own room. You retreat into your room and your smile widens at what Daryl said, you’d always wanted him to be proud of you and to hear him say those words brought so much joy to you. You change into your pyjamas and lie in your bed with Dog sleeping at the end of your bed. You then fall asleep with a smile on your face for the first time in a long time.      

[seizethesam]

Ode to an Angel-Chapter 5

A/N: Hello!! Chapter 5 is with you. I want to say that I had so many difficulties while writing this chapter. I would write and just delete it. I couldn't bring myself to focus on the story. But here it is! I am actually happy with how it turned out. I hope you like it too!!! And, there is symbolism in this chapter! YAY!! Comment if you know what it is...

Happy reading!! xx

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader

Tom Waits, too, is one of my favorite artists. This is the first song that I've heard from him. Do you like Tom Waits?

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Then…

The sun was already down but its lights were still shining on you. You were still able to see far ahead. You were out of their range, many trees between you and them. They were moving towards where you came. The farm.

Well, shit.

You wanted to go on, every part of you wanted go on, take another step to opposite direction. But you were also aware that the farm would not be able to hold them all. Be smart.

So you ran. Ran to the people who had been taking care of you for the past three days, ran to the unborn baby. You hoped you were going to make it in time. That was the smart thing to do.

Now…

The road was hard. The road was… The nights were getting colder and colder each day.

You were with Rick’s group since the farm had fallen. You had made to them just a few minutes before the horde came to the farm. You’d told them to run, to abandon the farmhouse. But Hershel was too damn stubborn to leave his place.

You were alongside them fighting off the dead ones. An extra pair of hand wouldn’t hurt. And you were with them ever since. You listened to your brother and did the smart thing; you had stayed.

It seemed like months, maybe it was but you weren’t sure, none of you kept a calendar. You thought that it was October. Each day, you were hungrier than the day before, each day was colder than the one before. And the life around you were slowly leaving its place for the winter.

You had been taking refuge in temporary shelters; abandoned houses, gas stations, and the forest floor… but none of them was home for the kid, or for the baby.

You were now in an abandoned house near the woods that Daryl had come across while hunting. You hoped that the place was isolated enough so that you could spend the night in there without any interruption.

“I’ll go check the perimeter,” Daryl said to the group of people who were gathered around the living room.

“Can I come with you?” you prompted just as he was about to exit the room. He hummed in response which you took as a ‘yes’.

You got up and followed Daryl to the wild. The house was not too far away from the main road, but there was a good deal of forest that made it almost invisible.

Daryl was silent most of the time, keeping his crossbow tightly in his rough hands. His eyes were looking for anything that looked wrong, while you were looking for anything that the cold had left you to eat.

The silence between you was comforting most of the time. Since you’d joined the group, you had been able to form relationship with most of them, Maggie was like a sister, Rick and Glenn and T-Dog were the brother that you’d missed the most. You were good with others too.

But Daryl… Well, Daryl was hardest to break.

He wouldn’t speak much about things, but you wouldn’t mind it either. But sometimes, he would also surprise you, talking to you at times you’d least expected, like right now.

You could see him eying you every once in a while, while you were inspecting the forest ground for plants to eat. You thought he was keeping an eye on you just in case. But a while later you couldn’t help but ask.

“What is it?” you asked him, stopping on your feet.

“Nothin’,” he shrugged as he kept on walking. It was not nothing. You could feel him itching to speak with you about something.

“C’mon, it’s okay,” you stated while picking up a wildflower from the earth. It looked like a poppy flower which were very rare to see in autumn. Guess the October sunshine must have tricked it.

But there it was…with all its beauty. Its red color was astonishing on the brown and dull forest floor.

Daryl waited for a moment before answering. “We ain’t eatin’ poppies,” he said, looking at the single flower that you’d placed in the pocket of your shirt.

“It’s not for eating, relax,” you replied with a subtle smile on your lips.

“Jus’ sayin’,” he scuffed, “I know for a fact tha’ ya ain’t that good at tellin’ apart the poisonous and the edible,” he finished.

You playfully frowned at his remark, “ouch,” you joked.

There was some kind of connection between you and Daryl that you really couldn’t put your finger on. You weren’t sure if you were friends or you were just companions of the same road.

Nevertheless, there was something.

You kept on walking with the continuation of silence for a while. The area seemed calm, there weren’t many walkers— just a couple stray ones.

Just when you were about to return to the house without any trouble, you spotted a blue-ish purple herbs on the ground.

“These are for eating,” you said as you picked up the herb by cutting it with your knife. You heard Daryl approaching from behind you.

“They are borage,” you informed him, “mom used to cook.” Memories of family dinners filled your head. But now wasn’t the time, you didn’t have the luxury to reminisce. You pushed the memories to the back of your mind.

“Uh-huh,” he hummed. He handed you his rag that kept in his back pocket.

“It’s better than nothing,” you said as you picked up the last one of them.

**

It’s better than nothing, you thought, way better. The cell didn’t look that bad and that wasn’t the priority either. You had walls now, fences to protect you. You’d finally got what you needed, a safe zone, a place rest.

You’d found the prison almost a week ago and were lucky to clear out the field and the cellblock C without any trouble.

Although Hershel was bitten on his leg while clearing out the other cellblocks Rick was able to save him, and he was getting better with each day.

Your little group had welcomed two of the prisoners, Oscar and Axel. You were doubting them as you did with their friends until Oscar threw himself between you and a walker.

It was safe at last and you’d made it out alive.

The comfort of finally being able to breath was the relief that you wanted. After weeks on the road, you could finally close your eyes. Finally, there was a haven for the baby, that hopefully they could call this place home.

It was a typical prison cell with its grey walls, grey floors, grey bunk bed, and grey cushions. The greyness of the place almost made your head dizzy. You hated the color.

Right now, it felt like a prison in every way. You needed to make it your home.

You were finally organizing your cell room. You didn’t have any time to actually settle. All of you were busy clearing out the walkers.

You placed your clothes and a several books that you took from the library on the top bunk. Maybe you could read again. Maybe you were always not going to worry about surviving.

You sat on the lower bunk and listened to your friends.

The greyness of the cell was enveloping you, surrounding you in every direction, until there wasn’t any more color.

You threw yourself out when you felt like suffocating. You watched the greenery that surrounded the colorless prison as you took a deep breath.

“You alright?” Glenn said, making you startle. He appeared out of nowhere. He was supposed to be on the run with T-Dog and Daryl.

The prison had its own supplies and they would be enough for all of you. You had food, and medical supplies. But there was more stuff needed for the baby.

“Yeah,” you answered, “everyone’s alright?” you asked him back. No matter how easy, the runs were always dangerous.

“Yeah, everyone’s fine,” he replied, and you nodded and padded his shoulder as he entered the cellblock.

That night you were lying on your bed while everyone was sleeping. Unable to fall asleep, you took one of the books from the top bunk and started reading with the dim candlelight.

You weren’t close to finishing the first chapter of the book when you heard footsteps approaching your cell. You closed the book and listened the sounds.

They stopped at your door; you couldn’t see who it was through the sheet that you’d draped.

After a few second the footsteps continued to grow away. You got up and opened your sheet and door and saw Daryl walking away.

“Daryl?” you whispered, and he turned to you, “everything okay?”

“Uh-huh,” he nodded. “I thought ya were asleep,” he mumbled. He started slowly walking towards you.

“No, I was up,” you informed him, “come here,”

He was hesitant to walk into your cell at first. When you sat down on your bed and motioned him, he sat down next to you. You could feel he was tense.

His shoulders were as stiff as a rock and his chest wasn’t even moving when he inhaled.

You opened your mouth to say what it was but he offered his hand to you and you saw a tiny paint can.

“Ain’t the best color,” he commented. “I knew you hated the walls.”

A smile spread on your lips automatically. You took the can in you hand. It was a bright yellow color, on the can was written “Behr Bicycle Yellow”.

You turned your head to face him, he was already looking at you, waiting for your reaction.

“Daryl…I— It’s perfect,” you said. You were out of words. You didn’t tell him that you hated the walls. You didn’t tell anyone.

The can was so small that it was only enough to paint one wall mixed with water, but you couldn’t care less.

“Thank you,” you whispered as you wrapped your arms around him. His shoulders stiffened even more if that was possible. But soon he gave into the warmth of your embrace.

You felt unaccountably at home next to him—even with the grey walls. It was a kind of a reassurance that you could only felt with your family.

Right then you knew it, he was family.

He cleared his throat when you let him go. He got up from your bed and walked to the door without saying anything.

He turned and handed you something else, which looked like a book.

“I also found this,” he said in his husky voice.

Taglist: @spidergirla5 @twdeadfanfic @kamieshep @sophia-gwendolyn @jodiereedus22 @purplebtsmagic @itsmanillablog @302rocks @decadentsoulbiscuitgoth

It was a book and it was called The Mushroom Book: How to Identify, Gather, and Cook Wild Mushrooms.

Chapter 6

[jj-lynn21]

Roll with It: Bill & x-reader/Princess

This idea inspired by as ask to @lihikainanea​ Read her great piece  about Bill and Tiger here.  Warnings: Fluff, smut, dash of angst mood song: The Killers - When You Were Young  

Bill grumbles under his breath as you both get ready for his little brother, Osssian’s, 10th birthday party. You are super excited to be going skating again. It has been years since you breezed around a rink. You are pretty confident it will all come back to you once you lace up your leopard skates with the pink wheels.  Bill seems more reluctant to go at all, "I don't know why the kid wanted a roller skating party. Maybe, ice skating but roller skating is so American." "Excuse me?" You raise your eye brows.

 "Sorry, Princess," Bill cringed under your gaze. "The last time I skated I fell on my ass multiple times. Alex and Gustaf were laughing at me the whole time. That was ice skating. This roller skating seems like it will be much more difficult."

You hold back a laugh, "Its easier than ice skating in my opinion. You can always rent roller blades. The wheels are in a line more along the line of ice skating. I had rollr blades but I prefer skates.  You know I hate to be cold."

Bill wraps his arms around you, still just in his black jeans, "I would keep you warm enough in the cold."

You put your hands on his chest looking up at him with a smile, "I know you would, Bill." You pat his chest and try to pull away even though you know damn well you will not be released until he wants to release you. "Put on that leopard print button up that matches my tank top and skates and everything underneath." You wink with a giggle. 

"Fuck, I love that set." He held your face tilting it just a little more to smother his lips to yours as he walked you back towards the bed. "Let me see."

You life your arms up for him to get your tank to off revealing the leopard front zip bra. He lays you back on the bed. As he unzips the bra with his teeth  his hand movies down to unsnap your pants to start to pull them off. Bill take your left nipple and then your right into his mouth making them hard and tender to every flick of his tongue. 

"This won't get you out of going skating," You rasp breathing heavily between each word.

He lays kisses down her sternum, "Not trying to get out of anything, Princess. Trying to get into something for comfort before trying something new." 

You can't help but giggle at his line as he pulls your jeans off and tosses them to the floor. He runs a hand over the front of your damp panties. Then grins as he pulls the zipper that runs your entire slit. His hard cock twitches at the sound the zipper makes as it glides so easily revealing your warmth. 

He leans over you. His eyes flash over you with that mischievous boyish grin sliding across his face as he takes you. Your knees bend up around him. Your hips push into his every thrust. The deeper he goes the more you whimper out your pleasure. You have the perfect rhythm together as you bury your face in his chest and nails in his shoulder blades. "fuck, I need to pull out and come on your tits," He pants. "We have to be more careful than we have been."

You just nod in agreement almost at your apex. He pulls out dripping before he wanks a few times covering your chest with his seed as he let's out a satisfied groan. As he leans down to kiss you, his fingers rub down to your throbbing clit so you get the satisfaction he always guarantees. Bill swoops you up to go take you shower after.

Within a half hour Bill opens the front door for you to go out before him. Maybe a little late, but damn it was worth it. When you get to the skating rink, Kolbjorn runs over throwing himself on Bill. Bill picks him up hugging him tight. 

The eight-year-old is over joyed to see Bill, "I can skate so good big, big, big brother. I only fell on my bum twice and I laughed with big brother. He's 10 now so he skates better but not much. We are trying not to let our bums hit the floor." He giggled.

"Cool, little man, " He sits his youngest brother down. "Where is the birthday boy?"

"He's out there skating with Gustaf," Kolbjorn pulls you and Bill's hands. "Come skate with us. There is a bounce house to but you can't wear your skates in there." 

"Okay little man," Bill chuckles. "Go skate. We will get our skates on and meet you out there."

You go sit along the wall near the lockers across from the skating floor. Bill kneels looking up at you as his hand glides down your calf to pull off your platform sneakers. Then he put on your skates. As he laced them Ossian skated towards you. He jumped on Bill's back. "What's up brother?"

Bill grabs his skate pulling him down to the floor tickling him as the boy giggles uncontrollable.  "I wasn't sure a ten-year-old boy would still giggle so silly."

"Help, my Princess," Ossian's high pitched squeals echoed through the roller rink. 

"Your, Princess?" Bill chuckled evilly. "She is definitely my..."

You tackle Bill tickling his neck and under his arms where you know he is most ticklish. 

"Stop," He laughs letting his brother go pulling you under him instead. He pins your arms. "You are in trouble later little girl."

You giggle, "I know but I had to save the birthday boy."

"Fair enough," He lets you up.

Ossian grabs your hand pulling you towards the skating floor, "Skate away quickly while we can, Princess.”

"Alright, alright Ossian." You look to Bill.

"Go on, I'll be out there when I get my skates on," He sits and takes his boots off. 

You let Ossian roll you along. He catches his sister Eija's hand, who is holding Sam's, who is holding Axel's who is speeding around the ring on his light up skates. As a corner comes Alex whips the family around flinging everyone to speed down the straight away. As you  pass the skate floor entrance you see Bill clinging to the lockers. 

You skate over to him quickly, "How are you doing, sweet boy?"

Bill turns leaning against the lockers with his arms crossed. "I'm cool."

You reach your hand out, "Let's go than."

You pull him easy enough but as soon as he attempt to move his feet, they slide in different directions. He starts to fall. A large mushroom shaped seating area catches his bottom. His arms flailed a little before they rested palms on seat. 

You hide a chuckle behind your hand. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," Bill grumbles.

"How about you just let me pull you," you smile. "I could get one of your brother's to help get you use to the skates?"

"NO!" he stood. "We can do this." 

"Alright," you said calmly pulling him towards the floor. 

Bill grabs the half wall as soon as you step onto the floor. He stepped off the carpet on to the hardwood floor. His feet slip every which way. 

"Put your feet like this," You put your feet heels closer together and toes out slightly I you learned when you were four and taught other children. He is the biggest kid you ever taught. "Just scissor your feet." 

Bill manages to let go of the wall with one hand. He tries doing as you instruct. His legs wobble. He gets a little more comfortable as the low wall ends. You take his hands smiling as he slowly keeps going forward. You skate backwards. When his family whipped around a corner laughing Bill's hands pull from yours, arm swing wild as his skates went askew and he fell right on his coccyx. You went right down with him when his skate wheel lodged into yours.

"Fuck," Bill yelled. The music was to loud for anyone else to hear him. "You alright, Princess? I took you right down with me." 

Gustaf spins coming to a screeching halt near you. "Don't go to far without me, Kolbjorn" He yells to the youngest Skarsgard before turning to you and Bill. "You two alright? Maybe you need one of those wheel walkers Kolbjorn is using, Bill?" "My ass bone hurts like hell," Bill complains. "How are you so good at skating Gustaf?"

"The kids skate with Alex every time they visit him in New York and I go along when I am in the States." Gustaf explained. 

"Sorry, Bill." You try to save face for him. "I just took your big ass down with me when I fell. Maybe I need some lunch and I'll get some ice for you. Thanks for checking on us Gustaf." You get up easily.

"You want some help off the floor little brother?" He amends his statement quickly so Bill doesn't think it would make him seem weak. "Since you were hurt when you fell it might make it more difficult for you to skate to the side."

Bill nods. His pride as busied as his coccyx, but he knows you and Gustaf won't tease him like the others might, especially Valter. The two of you help Bill off the floor as Kolbjorn follows. 

"Are you okay?" The little one asked surprised one of his big strong brothers were being helped off the floor.

"Sometimes you just fall down," You said to him with a giggle. "And when one falls, whoever is near them does to. But we are fine."

"Yeah, I'm cool little man." Bill smiled and Kolbjorn hugged him. "Go skate with Gustaf. Maybe we will join you after a small break." 

"Cool," Kolbjorn pulls Gustaf back to the floor and left the wheeled walker there. He was a little wobbly but Gustaf kept him up, well mostly.

"How about I get lunch?" You suggested.

"Oh hell yes," He starts to take his skates off.

"You will be putting those back on later," You insisted.

"Yeah, alright." Bill grumbled. "But I'm just going to sit over at a table while we eat. Can you get me some ice for my back."

"Sure, baby boy." You kissed him sweetly without having to stretch. That is one of the best things about skates, they make you a little taller. And you would show him how that benefit him after lunch. You had a few good memories of things you did when you were a teenager that would put him in a better mood before he tried to skate again.

You skate up to the concession stand. Valter is leaning on the counter flirting with the worker. "Don't let that innocent smile fool you, he is devious."

She laughs. Valter smirks at you," What's up Princess?"

"Not much buttercup," You said whimsically. "Can I get a bag of ice, a hotdog, two slices of pepperoni pizza and two Pepsi's?" You said politely to too counter person.

"You got enough to feed my brother; are you going to eat anything?" Valter licked his lips watching the counter person get things as he talked to you. 

You laughed, "Maybe he will share a nibble or two."

 The counter person handed you a small hotdog bun bag full of ice, "This is the best I can do."

"That will be just fine," You take the bag.

Valter looks at you suspiciously, "Did Bill fall on his ass already."

"I lost balance and pulled him down," your eyes darted. 

"Sorry, I missed the theatrics," He chuckled. "Watch yourself out there, Princess."

You put the ice on the top of the drinks in the box the counter person put everything in so you could carry it all easier. "I sure will." You smile as you started to skate away. You turned your head back. "You two be careful also. No making out behind the counter." You started towards Bill.

"What were you guys laughing about over there," Bill inquired gruffly. He picks up a piece of pizza shoving half of it in his mouth as soon as you put everything down on the table. 

You push the ice pack down to his tailbone before you sit across from him.  "I was teasing him and the counter person he is flirting with. He did ask about the ice. I said the same thing we told Gustaf. He won't bother you about it." 

You lean over to suck some sauce off the corner of his mouth. Then you take a sip of your drink before picking up the hotdog. It is more of a sausage dog. A bit longer and thinker than a regular hot dog. You don't even think twice about putting a large portion in your mouth before taking a bite.

Bill smirked as he watched you and took a drink of his Pepsi. "You enjoying lunch?" 

"Sure," you said innocently. "How's the pizza?" 

"Good enough," He bites into the second slice.

You finish your food and sip on your drink. "I practically lived at the skating rink when I was a tween and in my early teens. Do you know what I did when I was not skating?"

Bill shrug, "video games."

"I played those sometimes," A grin streamed across your face. "Places like this on Friday and Saturday nights with no young kids or families were freedom from some rules. I started smoking in the bathroom here. I smoked at football games also but here it seemed less of a chance getting caught."

"I started about the same time, I guess." Bill smiled wistfully. "We had similar places to feel a little freedom from parents. I'm sure we did similar other things at such places." 

"Maybe," you said coyly.

"Yeah," he starting grinning. "Were you one of the girls that put it all at on display with whoever you liked or did you find a small little hideaway for some secret seduction ritual of young lust?"

"Stop," you blush.

"Secret place is my guess," He looks around. "And you are petite to fit..." 

A blush erupts on your cheeks as it always had done when you were young. Bill gets up and holds his hand out. You take it. He pulls you over to the arcade area. 

"Somewhere around here, right?" He grins.

"Maybe," You blush harder. 

He pushes you between two video games, "Oh look, you still fit."

You giggle, "This is ridiculous. You would be completely disappointed in the teenage me but probably tell your friends I sucked you off. " 

He cups your face in his hands, "What asshole made you think that? I never did anything so vile.  I was happy with whatever I got.  And if a cute girl," He stroked your hair smiling. "never as cute as you as far as I remember, decided she did want a  mouth full of more than a hotdog, I never said anything. And I would have defended her honor if anyone started saying shit."

You smile, "Where were you when..."

Bill kisses you strong. You were interrupted by Valter clearing his throat and the counter person giggling. 

"I thought you said 'No making out'?" Valter chuckled.

Bill turned with his arms crossed, "I think you are mistaken Brother. grown adults would not do such a thing in public."

Valter smirks, "Yeah, alright. I was mistaken. We just want to play the video game on this side you  'adults'. "

Bill pulls you out of the corner on your skate, "I think you have more skating instructions for me after I get my skates back on, Princess."

"Yes, I do," You said matter-of-factly. "Have fun you two." You wave bye to Valter and his new friend as Bill pulls you along on your skates. As soon as you are far enough his brother won't hear you tell him, "If Kolbjorn still is not using the roller walker I think you should try with that."

"Alright, I'll try one more time." Bill sat to put his skates back on. "But I might never do this again."

"If you can't skate by the end of the evening you won't ever have to try again." You grab the roller walker. "I promise."

When Bill puts his weight on the walker the pcv gives a little. It makes him stand straighter to try not to put his weight on it as much.

"Just slowly roll your skates in and out." You suggest. "Don't pick up your feet. Just glide."

The tall lanky Skarsgard looks gigantic using the small walker. But within an hour he is holding your hand. His other arm out to the side for balance. You turn to skate backwards holding both his hands eventually.

"See you got this, Bill," You encourage.

He smiles goofily. "Not that bad, I guess. Can we play in the balance house now." 

"Sure, I think you have earned that." You pull him to the bounce house in the middle of the floor.

 Both of you sit on the floor to take your skates off before going in to bounce around, laughing like a couple of kids while everyone else is skating. You do this until the party is over. You let Bill walk in his socks off the floor instead of putting skates back on. Over all fun was had by all. And Bill learned to skate, at least slowly

[allzelemonz]

Axel X Male Reader

Always had a small crush on Axel, he’s just a nice guy with my favorite kind of facial hair. Mostly in show plot with some small fluff at the end.

After being in the end of the world for a while, just trying to stay alive and away from those monsters, you didn’t have a problem helping to defend what was yours. So, when the group found a prison you all jumped at the chance to have a fence around you. It was gradual, but you got everything secure. Rick, of course, wanted to be sure. He took a group out to clear some of the surrounding cell blocks. You stayed back, checking guard towers and picking weapons and good clothes off of the walkers.

After a long day of work you found comfort in the security of the walls along with the rest of the group. It went on like that for a few days, work and sleep. Just like before. That changed when two prisoners showed up asking to join the group. Rick had apparently found them when clearing and allowed them to stay in a separate cell block. They pleaded to join, but Rick denied them. You joined T-Dog in trying to help them out, but Rick wouldn’t budge. He settled for giving them supplies and sending them on their way and the group got ready to move cars.

The blond, Axel, tried to strike a cord with Daryl over his bike and how he knew a lot about them, only leading to failure. After you’d gathered the supplies you went with Glenn to hand them off.

“Thank you, bro.” He said timidly.

Glenn hesitated for a moment, “Sit tight.” He said.

Axel’s attention turned to you as Glenn began to walk away with you just behind him. He saw that you had a prison jumpsuit on with the top tied around your waist, you’d taken it as an extra change of clothes.

“You look good in that jumpsuit, man!” He called.

You looked over to him as he gave you a thumbs up even with the box in his hands. Glenn shook his head not to provoke them, but you ignored the former pizza guy.

“Thanks.” You replied with a small nod and a hint of a smile.

You split from Glenn and ran back up to help with the cars. As you moved that last one into place everyone took a moment to celebrate Hershel getting out and around again. The moment was short lived when the walkers came out. Carl was the first to see them, alerting the others. You ran to help clear, shooting what you could. You ran to defend Beth and Hershel, getting to safety with them. It didn’t take long for Rick and the others to make their way up from the outer gates. Once Rick was caught up he brought you out to help clear, leaving Beth and Hershel in the safety of the gate. You ran out, helping Daryl take down a walker before you had a moment to talk.

“Those chains didn’t break on their own, some took an axe or cutter to them.” Glenn informed.

Rick looked back to Axel and Oscar.

“Woah, let’s not jump to conclusions.” You tried to reason.

“You think they did it?” Glenn asked.

“Who else?” Rick confirmed.

“There could have been someone else here we didn’t see, we can’t blame them without evidence.”

Before Rick could respond the alarms began to blare.

“What’s that?” Glenn said, baffled at the bad luck.

“Oh- You gotta be kidding me!” Daryl said, frustrated.

You all began to shoot out the alarms, but they were sounding all around the prison and attracting walkers fast. Rick rushed over to the prisoners, gun raised at Oscar.

“How the hell can this be happening.”

“Woah, woah, woah, it has to be the backup generators.” Oscar explained.

“Well how do you turn those on?” Rick lowered his gun as Daryl kept his crossbow aimed at the prisoner.

“There’s three that’s connected to a diesel tank, okay.” Oscar said, hands raised. “Each one controls a certain part of the prison.”

You looked around at the gates, walkers still coming and coming.

“That hacks shut them all off when the prison was overrun.” Oscar finished.

Rick gestured his gun at Axel for a moment. “Can someone open up the main gates electronically with full power?”

“I only worked in there a few days.” Oscar admitted. “I guess it might be possible.

Rick grabbed Oscar by the collar, pulling him along. “Come with us.”

“Let’s go!” Glenn yelled.

You ran into the main cell block and began to look for everyone, but they weren’t there. Rick decided to split up and try to find the generators. You went with Glenn and Axel, running down the hall in hopes of finding anything worthwhile. After a few minutes of running around in nearly pitch black hallways the alarms turned off. The other group must’ve found the generators. Not long after that you came across them waiting for some walkers to pass in a hallway. When the sound didn’t move on you all turned the corner to find the walkers feasting on a corpse.

Rick took the walkers out and everyone rushed to see who it was. Daryl found Carol’s head scarf, and you all assumed it was her. After a moment of thought you all found you way back outside to check on Hershel and Beth now that it was safe. They hadn’t seen any sign of the others. Rick began to plan, but was interrupted by the cry of a baby. Maggie and Carl emerged with no sign of Lori. You knew right away what must have happened. You watched as Rick cried over his lost wife and Glenn tried to comfort Maggie.

After a moment everyone comes back from the mourning and starts to think about where to go from there. Daryl jumps to go on a run for the baby’s formula, Glenn and Maggie volunteer to join him. As Rick stays in his broken state Daryl gives out orders. Ignoring Rick’s departure you follow Oscar and Axel to help with the gates while the others get to a car for the run.

Things began to wind down and Glenn asked you to help dig graves, so you obliged. Some time passed and Oscar and Axel offered to help. Glenn was standoffish at first, but seeing Hershel needed to talk he handed Axel his shovel. You welcomed the two, showing them where to dig and trying to be friendly. It took about an hour to get the grave deep enough and another to actually bury your friends.

After that you hung around the prisoners, mostly of your own will, but also at Glenn’s request for you to keep an eye on them. You moved them into cells on your block, keeping them away from the rest of the group. You made sure they understood what would happen if they wondered past your cell at night, even if they meant to harm. Oscar turned out to be an early sleeper after the small group session of watching Daryl and the baby. Axel stayed up, sitting on the edge of the walkway and looking up through the windows at the sky. You sat down next to him.

“You really think I look good in the jumpsuit or was that just you trying to gain my trust?”

Axel turned to you, a small smile hidden under his mustache. “I will admit it was, no one looks good in these.”

“I see.” You nodded. “But, I have to disagree.” You met his eyes. “You look alright.”

“Oh, um, thank you.” A small pink dust shown beneath the curls of his mustache.

“I think you’ll fit in alright.” You smiled at him. “As long as you stop calling everyone bro.”

“My bad.” He looked down at his lap sheepishly.

“It’s alright, you seem like a nice guy.”

“Well so do you, sir.” He chuckled. “If I’m not too forward.” He looked back at you.

“Never.”

“You’re quite a guy.”

[unfortunatelysirius]

WHEN YOUR HEART STOPS BEATING // DARYL DIXON X READER

「 ❁ 」PROMPT 「 ❁ 」

After walkers infiltrate the prison, you are boxed in and lost. It’s up to Daryl Dixon to find you.

「 ❁ 」WARNINGS 「 ❁ 」

Fluff, violence, gore, angst, panic attack, and swearing

「 ❁ 」WORD COUNT 「 ❁ 」

3560

 YOUR NEW HOME WAS MORE THAN it seemed.

For one, it didn’t just house the decaying, shambling corpses of former guards and the hostiles they were payed to watch; there was a group of flesh-and-blood prisoners, wearing their jumpsuits from the end of the world, who popped up, seemingly from nowhere, after Rick was forced to amputate the leg off your group’s eldest member. And for two, walkers materialized at every turn, whether you were alone or not. There were many things about the compound that screamed unease to you.

Why were there civilian corpses? And why was it the prison stayed quiet, yet grew to a crescendo of snarling anytime the tunnels became occupied?

You could admit it—you were never tasked to be the critical thinker, the one who took surface level and dug inside to find the under-level layers. But you were the strategic one; if the group needed a quick thinker, someone who could make plans swiftly and efficiently, they turned to you. Escape artistry was one of your talents at the end of the world, trickling over from your former life as a patient at a psychiatric hospital. You liked to run and hide.

That didn’t change with the abrupt appearance of an apocalypse.

Even now, behind closed doors—safely enclosed in walls—you couldn’t help the sneaking suspicion it wouldn’t last. When the prisoners had shuffled into Cell Block C, you’d looked them up and down. Big Tiny, Oscar, and Axel seemed okay, probably jailed for misdemeanors and drugs, but Tomas… and Andrew… Andrew could be helped—he was obviously more a follower than someone to take initiative—but Tomas? The controlling gleam in that man’s eyes reminded you of someone knew from before the outbreak—someone you could never stop running from, even in your dreams.

“I don’t think he should be let around anybody,” you’d told Rick, after you’d gotten far enough way that the prisoners wouldn’t overhear. The uneasy clenching in your gut wouldn’t subside, no matter the internal whispers of Rick and Daryl will keep us safe and We’re okay and Everything’s going to be alright. “I think he was in here for murder.”

Rick patted your shoulder, gave you that paternal look he saved for when he was a moment away from patronizing someone, and said, “I’ll keep an eye on him.”

You knew what that really meant. But Rick made the rules. Even if you wanted to, arguing would get you nowhere.

A part of you thought it was funny, how scared you were. How cowardly. It’s the former patient in you. The paranoia. You’re scared everywhere you go. It was nothing short of the truth, though you’d like to pretend you were better now. Once upon a time, everything was a monster. Everything was out to get you. And now, at the end of the world, your worst nightmare became a reality: a town of demons, with nowhere to go, and no hero to save the day. No safety belts. All dust, no oasis.

You supposed it was relieving, in a way. You weren’t being paranoid now; you were taking precautions, being precautious, to keep not just yourself safe but an entire group of people. There was a pregnant woman in the group—a preteen, a teenager. An aging man still recovering from the bite. Very few in the group actually held necessary skillsets to protect the rest.

Though you could handle a gun, your only real asset was your speed. And even then, a person could only run so far before the monsters were there to catch their fall.

When Big Tiny was scratched, you watched your demons come to life. Between bickers of I’m sorry and It’s the end of the road for ya, buddy, Tomas had stormed past and sunk the killer end of his hammer into Big Tiny’s head. He threw and threw, sickening crunches heard throughout the sick, homicidal procedure, until Big Tiny’s face was nothing but mush and brain bits. Tomas turned, and your eyes met. With a face covered in blood, his hazel-brown eyes gleamed with madness.

Daryl had pulled at your arm, then, tugging until you were behind him. “Stay behind me. Don’t go near him,” he’d muttered to you. To Rick, he said, “You see the look on his face?”

Rick didn’t even look at Daryl. He instead was looking right at you. “I think you were right, Y/N,” he said, just as quiet; “He’s dangerous.”

You wished you were wrong. You wished for these worries to be nothing but irrational, proven as subsets of your paranoia; instead, you had to watch Tomas attempt Rick’s murder, thrice occasions. First, he disregarded a direct order—instead of opening one door, he opened two. Second, he stabbed at an imaginary opponent, missing Rick by very little. Third, he took a walker, and tossed it to Rick’s body. A second longer, and no Daryl Dixon to come to his aid, and he would have been dead.

Silence followed.

Shit happens. Shit happens. Shit happens.

He was comin’ at me, bro!

Bang, bang. A slash from Rick’s machete, and Tomas was dead.

You remembered a past conversation, as you watched Tomas’s eyes go dull with lifelessness. One from before. “You’re gonna have to get used to the scary, Y/N. Or the scary’s gonna eat you alive.” You’d shaken your head, in denial. You didn’t want to get used to the scary. “You’ll be saying that, sweetheart. You’ll be saying that when you drown.”

Everything went in slow motion, after that. Andrew was horrified—rightfully so; after all, he’d just witnessed his leader’s death—and had attacked your leader with a bat. Rick reacted fast, kicking at him, while Daryl raised his crossbow. Andrew ran out of the room, and Rick followed; Oscar and Axel were down on their knees, already surrendering.

Daryl had his crossbow leveled between them. T-Dog had his gun raised. You were merely standing there, still trying to process what just happened.

Maybe if you blinked, the scenery would change. The prisoners wouldn’t exist, and you wouldn’t see a dead body (of someone who had looked at you, spoken to you) slumped against the ground. Daryl and T-Dog wouldn’t be pointing weapons at strangers. If this were a perfect world, there’d be no corpses, no violence; just warmth, and safety. Surrounded by family.

Rick came back. Then it was three against two, and the groups were unevenly matched; no weapons, just surrendered defenses, for the prisoners, while your three—the men of your group, sans Glenn—were well-armed, looking down the barrels.

They seemed like good guys. You knew people like them, from before. People who were honest creatures—who had done stupid things, sometimes unforgivable things, but redeemed themselves day-by-day, piece-by-piece. You watched the demeanors of the prisoners, one standing tall while the other was fidgety with nerves, and concluded: they’re good people.

“Rick,” you said quietly. You felt your stomach drop when Rick broke his stare-down, his attention turning towards you. He looks so scary when he’s mad, like a ticking time bomb. “I don’t… I don’t think they’re like Tomas.”

Rick exchanged a glance with Daryl, then T-Dog. They were all giving you the same look—one of doubt, and sympathy. They remembered the stories you told of your life before. They knew why you were nervous and soft-spoken. And a subconscious part of them wondered if it was really wise to trust a former psychiatric patient.

“We’re just taking precautions,” Rick told you.

“But—what if they’re good guys?” You looked at him pleadingly. You didn’t want to play a part in an innocent man’s condemnation. And not one, but two trials were at play. “They could help us clear the prison.”

“Y/N, please.” Rick shook his head, looking tired. You wondered how he could look so unaffected, when moments ago he was hammering the life out of a man made of blood and bone. Was it the cop in him? Or did part of his humanity leave when he murdered his best friend? “Think of Lori. Carl. They could get hurt if we put trust in the wrong people.”

They could get hurt if we put trust in the wrong people. Where had you heard those words before? You were sure they sounded familiar. “I know, but…” You bit your lip. “You’re not going to kill them, are you?”

Rick was serious when he said, “Not unless they try something.”

You were relieved. Not unless they try something. You could trust his word. He wouldn’t go back on it. He wouldn’t hurt an innocent man. He only killed the monsters—like Tomas. Like Shane.

Not unless they try something.

Not unless they try something.

Right?

-

         You supposed it was only time before your utopia would break into calamity. You only wished it hadn’t been at the sake of walkers.

Tranquility was hard to find, especially in times like this. You’d thought the prison would be a haven in a world without civilization—looked to it as a beacon, after the initial suspicion wore off—but now—as you watched Rick scream for his wife and child, as those outside in the field broke into sprints for the courtyard, as Daryl yelled for you… You couldn’t move. You were paralyzed to your spot.

If you could trade places, you’d rather be back in time, watching Rick’s machete slice through Tomas’s cranium on an endless time-loop. At least then, you’d been safe. A bystander. Not being crowded in on by mindless, flesh-eating beasts; not watching as the people in the courtyard scattered, little Carl shooting at corpses as they snarled and reached out hungrily. Beth and Hershel closed themselves in at a gate. Maggie was leading Carl and Lori through a door. T-Dog was bitten.

Just as a walker’s hand gripped your shirt, your fight-or-flee instinct kicked in. Flinging yourself away from the danger, you did what you did best.

You ran.

You ran, and ran, and ran, and ran. You took the door you’d seen T-Dog and Carol go through, feeling a sob scratch at your throat when you heard the snarls, the growls, felt the intensity of hunger in the air. You slammed the door behind you—only to realize the entire corridor was full of echoing screams.

The scary’s gonna get ya.

The scary’s gonna get ya.

The scary’s gonna get ya.

You only had a knife. No gun, no armor, no inhaler, no nothing. Just a knife—and a broken, senseless mind.

A bitter resentment welled inside you, like a fledging parasite, as you pat and circled hands all around your body. Shame on you, Y/N, the voice in your head taunted; Now you’re going to die! Death did not scare you, not really—what really scared you was dying alone. Dying painfully, slowly. Being taken by your monsters rather than on your own grounds. Ever since you saw Dale with his stomach torn open, you had sleeping patterns plagued by you being teared at and eaten alive.

Were your nightmares about to come alive?

Walkers banged and shrieked against the door, obviously angered by their separation from their next meal. You whispered to yourself, “They can’t get you. You’re not going to die…”

Taking out the knife from your sheath, you began to run again, paying no attention to the muffled gunshots and yelling from behind the door—

The prison corridors were like a labyrinth. Every which way you went, it came up feeling like a dead end. There were corpses littering the floors, and blood splatters on the walls, beneath your shoes; you slowed your running to a hasty jog after slamming into a wall from slipping. Your mind was haywire with anxieties, going rampant with visuals of your friends being torn apart and left to die slow. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t pay any attention, stumbling like a walker would; what if your worries were true?

T-Dog was bitten. What if he was already dead, before you had any real chance to say goodbye?

As you got to the end of the next corridor, you heard something. It sounded like… chewing. Walker snarls mixed in with chewing.

You slowly peered out from the corner, and what you saw made your heart leap into your throat…

The walkers were leaning over something, pulling out innards and wolfing down blood and intestinal matter.

“Oh, my God,” you said, horrified. The only two people to have went down this hallway were… “T-..T...”

One walker slowly turned in your direction. Flesh was hanging down from its teeth. As it caught your eye, it snarled.

You couldn’t go back. Walkers were at the door, just waiting to devour you alive. Holding your knife tight, aim unsteady and shaky… you slowly began your approach. One walker stayed over T-Dog’s body, continuing to eat what lay in front of it, while this one—it saw its opportunity for live, fresh meat, and was going to take it.

Ignoring the ball of nerves suffocating you from the inside out, you raised your knife—and got knocked into the wall just as you hit your target.

Your knife was sticking out of its head. You could have taken the few seconds needed to extract it—you had some time before the walker’s comrade would notice your existence—but... but you couldn’t breathe.

You held a hand to your throat. You felt the vein beneath your finger, but it did nothing to calm you. Your stomach was coiled, limbs stiff. As you stumbled forward, terror-filled eyes intent on the door beside T’s half-eaten corpse, you felt something snap. Your body became flightless, bounded, and you fell to a knee.

That’s when the feelings intensified. That’s when you could no longer swallow, or breathe, and all that was real was the choking sensation in your throat.

Not here, not now. You were trembling, so intensely afraid that all you could think were those four words; not here, not now. Over and over again. Not here, not now. Not here, not now. A monster was mere feet away from you, and you were here, frozen in place, back turned to an opening that could easily house more monsters. The monster in front of you was occupied, but that didn’t change the scary reality that you were slowly drowning. That after it finished eating, it’d move onto you.

The scary’s gonna get ya someday. And that day’s today, sweetheart.

Even while kneeled, you were dizzy. There was an aching in you that would not go away, no matter how hard you tried to get rid of it. Your chest hurt, your stomach hurt, your legs hurt, all to a point your nerves were shutting down and a tingling pressure was spreading across your skin. Numb. You were going numb. You remembered your nightmares, in that point, as you fought to breathe.

Running so fast, your legs caught, and you tripped. Screaming so loud your larynx was ripped and shredded. Fumbling for an imaginary weapon as the monsters caught up to you and took turns picking away skin. Pleading for an invisible god to save you from your fate, his laugh echoing all around you.

There were footsteps. From in front of you, the walker had gotten bored of the dead, tainted meat, and was standing. It stared at you with glistening, faded eyes, watching you intently. Was it mad that you had killed its brother? No, no, that couldn’t be right; walkers had no sense of loyalty. They didn’t care, not in the way that humans did. It growled when you made eye contact, and it stumbled into the wall on its path to you.

You clenched your eyes shut, shaking. So choked and scared you couldn’t even find it in you to cry.

This was it. You were going to die.

Alone. Slowly. Painfully. Just like you feared. Just like they had all warned you, years and years ago.

Right as the walker got so close you could taste its rancid odor, you heard a shot. A gunshot. The garbling stopped, as did the loud,  over-theatrical footsteps; but there were secondary sounds, ones your cotton-stuffed ears couldn’t comprehend. Voices. Purposeful footsteps. All accompanying the shrill buzzer as it rang, with no intention of faltering.

Through the fog of your panic, you could not piece whichever direction the voices came, whether they were familiar, or if you were truly saved from danger. The anxiety that swelled in your chest made sure of your uselessness, and you could do nothing except sit there, shaking, like lamb being led to the slaughter.

Your eyes fluttered opened. The choking sensation was still there, and the full extent of your senses still hadn’t returned, but you had enough energy to see. The world around you was blurry, almost completely black. Your eyes locked on the hungry walker that was rushing towards you moments before, and now, it was dead. Its gaze was dead. Its arms were immobile. And it couldn’t hurt you.

It can’t hurt you. It can’t hurt you. You’re okay, Y/N.

You’re safe.

Your bottom lip quivered, mouth opening soundlessly. Words were lost. Who was behind you? A presence was to the right of you. Your nerves were severed—all feeling lost in a whole other realm of consciousness—to the point where you didn’t realize someone was touching you. Someone was talking to you.

Trying to make you feel safe.

You glanced down at your crumbled form. There was a hand on your leg, too large and coiled with muscle to be a woman’s. You wondered if it was Daryl. You wanted it to be Daryl. You wished he would just take you into his arms, broken mind and all.

“Y/N.” That’s what he was saying. You were watching his lips, your vision the only sense that could still function, albeit in a dysfunctional way. “Watch my lips. Watch me.” He was trying to calm you down. Those were his special words. “Count.” He always needed to remind you. Whenever you talked about your previous doctors and all the coping mechanisms you had shoved down your throat, he actually listened. He always chose the ones that worked best for you. Counting and breathing.

You counted. You ignored your surroundings—ignored Daryl—and counted.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

Daryl was still there when you finished. He watched with concerned eyes as you took long, uneven breaths, eyelids fluttering open then closed. Over and over again.

“You alright?” he said hesitantly. It wasn’t a question. He knew you weren’t alright.

He just wanted you to speak. Instead of sitting there, like a broken doll, your pieces spilled out across the linoleum aisle. It was an affirmation that you would be alright.

I’m not insane.

“I will be,” you told him.

As your senses rushed to you, you realized that the two of you weren’t alone. Daryl seemed to have the same realization. He looked to his two companions—Rick and Oscar—and jerked his head. As though he were saying, We’ll be alright. Go on ahead. Rick nodded, his eyes reading paternal concern as he glanced at you, before the two of them went rushing through the door. The door Carol left.

“Daryl…” A sob clumped in your throat. You forcibly swallowed it down. “I... I…” You couldn’t get the words out.

Daryl seemed to know what you were trying to say. His gaze hardened, and he pulled you into his arms. His greasy head nuzzled against you, and his arms roped around you like a lasso, caging you in completely. He muttered against the skin of your neck, “It’s gonna be a’ight, Y/N.” He pressed a kiss there. It was something he took up doing to you all throughout winter, when your panic attacks came swiftly and violently, never in serene circumstances.

“They killed him, Daryl,” you cried. “I don’t—”

“You don’t have to,” he said, cutting you off.

“But I do.” You slowly put your arms around Daryl, fully returning the embrace. “Or I… I’ll get killed.”

“I’ll protect ya.” Daryl’s voice was firm, and held no room for argument. “You won’t get hurt under my watch, darlin’. I promise.”

I promise.

I promise.

You squeezed your eyes shut, arms growing tighter around Daryl’s neck. “You don’t know that, Daryl,” you told him hoarsely. “You… you can’t be there all the time.”

The scary doesn’t wait, you told yourself, when the voice in your head protested against the pessimism. It’ll catch up with me.

Daryl pulled back. When you didn’t meet his gaze, he took your chin, tipping it upward. You stared into his cerulean eyes, held captive by the ferocity you saw inside. “I will,” he snapped. When he saw the doubt in your eyes, his gaze only sharpened; “You’ll be safe. I don’t care what it takes, Y/N. I’ll keep ya safe.”

He sounded so sure. Who were you but to believe him?

Against the shrill sound of the prison alarm, you laid your head on Daryl’s chest.

But against the other voices, as they cried for you to be realistic, you sagged in relief.