#t twd family

[bjorkzzor]

A New World - A The Walking Dead Fanfic - Chapter 19 (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1345325510-a-new-world-a-the-walking-dead-fanfic-chapter-19?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=Bjorkis&wp_originator=L2EcTfAgNhzhfYMz957CsfOfN16YSGGaGzGBXnY1ZOh%2F70YR2q3wKE46zFHCAryBhVpPmJqkc0nW5e79M3P8aYPh754Z3zlJGH6ksD2sAv15dvwA%2F3MgaIovjeK9fTne In a world where everything has been turned upside down and where the dead roam the Earth, one tiny mistake can result in your death. Being alone is a bold option but when you've got no one else but yourself it's the only one there is. Growing up as a daughter of a man in the military, Sam had learned a thing or two. At the age of 12 she was fully capable of surviving on her own in the wilderness, although she never believed that knowledge would be useful one day. Nowadays she's grateful for what her father put her through as the dead walk the streets. But surviving on your own will only get you that far, so when she encounters a group of people living outside of Atlanta, what will she do? Is she going to trust a group of complete strangers that seem to have enough trouble as it is, and if so, will it be worth it? (I genuinely suck at descriptions so I suggest you read a chapter or two instead)

[lunajay33]

Change Part.8

•🩰🎀🩷•

Summary: Y/n is a loner but loves ballet but her family doesn’t have enough money for her to dance at the studio, Daryl is a redneck who hates people and prefers bikes, until one day these two run into eachother and their lives change drastically, will Daryl toughen her up? Will y/n soften Daryl? Or both? How will things go when people start coming back from the dead

Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x f!reader

A/n: This is going to be a series, it’s gonna start with how they met eachother and their lives before the apocalypse, eventually it’ll blend with twd story line!!

Part.7

•Masterlist•

After the events of yesterday the world seemed worse, if that was possible, the gore of blood and death, the screams still echoed in my head and not having Daryl around brought me back to feeling weak, like when I could protect myself against Jackson

“Ya okay Angel?” I looked up from my spot on Daryl’s bike as everyone around us finished packing up their belongings for our drive to the CDC, hoping to find sanctuary there

“Oh yeah I’m just……I don’t know D so much has happened lately I just don’t know how to handle it, I’m scared” his hand rubbed up and down my arm reassuringly

“I’ve always got ya, you and our lil ballerina, I know this ain’t what we wanted but we’ll find a home again” his words eased my worries just a bit

“Ya still haven’t told me how ya got that bruise, it’s darker now” he asked gently tracing the purple and yellow bruise that blotted along my chin and jaw

“Oh that….i was down by the water yesterday trying to ease my aching legs and umm….Ed came he wouldn’t leave me alone and well this happened, thankfully Shane was there before he could do anything worse” I could see the anger rise in his expression

“It’s lucky that sum bitch is dead or I woulda killed him myself”

“Can’t say I’m upset about how he died, but of karma in my opinion” noticing him unclench his fists and sigh knowing I hate when he gets upset because he always gets so worked up and it’s not good for him

He ran his fingers through my hair grazing my cheek

“I haven’t gotten ta tell ya how beautiful ya look, why’d ya cut yer hair?”

“I just wanted a change, thought with everything going on it would be better with short hair to deal with”

“Daryl you ready to go?” T-Dog asked from across the way

“Ya we’re ready” he loaded the bike in the back of the truck and we were all off on the road headed to the CDC

After hours of driving we finally made it, the sun was setting and the walkers were closing in but thankfully someone above answered our prayers and opened the doors, quickly making our way inside, Daryl’s hand never leaving my hip making sure I was in his grasp the whole time

Jenner showed us around, Daryl brought me into one of the rooms closing the door shut as we both slumped down on the bed

“God what a day” I sighed rubbing my belly

“Ya got that right sunshine”

“Wanna take a shower with me, it’s been a while” I smirked walking to the bathroom doors

“Ya don’t gotta ask me twice”

The feeling of his strong arms wrapped around me resting on my bump as the warm water rolled over us felt surreal, amazing

“I missed this, did this almost every night back in the old house” he groaned into my shoulder

“Me too, remember how nervous you were the first time we showered together, you were so cute” I laugh as I run my hand back through his hair

“I ain’t cute woman”

“Mmmhmm sure”

I had just gotten home from a late shift at the dinner, huffing as I threw myself on the bed kicking off my shoes letting my sore feet breath, my family was gone on a trip not having even invited me, not like I’d wanna go anywhere with them

Then my door bell rang, groaning I got up and answered my mood immediately brightened seeing it was Daryl

“D! What’re you doing here?” I asked as he wrapped his arms around my waist bringing us both back into the house

“Missed ya, I know how work gets ya stressed and all worked up”

“Well you certainly made my night better by coming” I said leaning back seeing his little smile that always made my heart jump

“Have ya eaten?”

“Not yet but I want to take a shower first”

“K I’ll wait here” I went to head to the bathroom when I stop with an absurd idea, turning back to him

“Actually do you maybe……I don’t know, shower with me?” His face exploded in red but he slowly nodded following me to the bathroom

After showering we got in more comfortable clothes and went down with the other for a proper meal, Daryl had fun actually letting loose around the others, it was nice to see

Helping him back to the room he slumped on the bed immediately passing out, that night we finally had a peaceful sleep knowing there was no walkers getting in this time

Waking up in the morning to see Daryl was already gone, probably eating his weight in food from the hang over, I changed back to day clothes noticing my tank top was rolled up my belly more, I must have popped that’s when I heard alarms going off, my moment of appreciation for my little baby was gone, short lived like every fleeting moment now

Running down to the main room seeing everyone gathered, quick to get to Daryl’s side

“D what’s going on?”

“The damn generators are empty this place is gonna blow and that sum bitch locked us in here!” He yelled

This can’t be the end, no please not yet, there was still so much

“We need to find a way out I can’t die, YOU CANT LOCK US IN HERE” I screamed panicking now, Daryl held me against his chest as I cried

“I’m gettin us the hell outta here” he took an axe and started smashing the door barely making a dent

With some convincing Jenner opened the doors, Daryl grabbing my hand quickly running off the the entrance, getting out and back in his truck again before the explosion

“I can’t do this Daryl, all this stress it’s gonna kill me” I hiccuped from all the crying soothing my hand down over my belly

“Hey don’t speak like that, I know it’s hard but we gotta keep goin just a lil more sunshine”

“Just a little more”

Part.9

Taglist: @pinchofthetwd @bigbaldheadname @strawberrykiwisdogog @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @l0kilaufeys0n7 @deansapplepie @tesfayera @daryldixmedown @secretsicanthideanymore @superbowlisgay @pollito-chicken @shadowrose13-blog1 @absssposts @writer-ann-artist @dgeckobones @twisteduniverse5 @heidiland05 @lettersfromyourlove @minnie-min @severelykinky @mordilwen-of-mirkwood

[illusianation]

Well. Helloooo! It’s been approximately 184 years since I posted any kind of meta on this site, let alone a TWD-related meta. But here we are, in the year 2024, no less. Nothing like The Book of Carol and Melissa’s return to bring some of us back. Unfortunately, it’s been a mixed bag, and current spoilers point to some really disturbing info about our beloved characters, specifically Daryl. The following is from a recent Twitter post made regarding Daryl’s character and thought it would be cool to post here, too.

CW: Daryl - relationships + trauma

There are so many feelings about the spoilers re: Daryl/Isabelle, and this post isn’t meant to invalidate any of them or defend the storytelling choices or retcon. Umm, no. Not at all. That’s a whole other post and many others have written extensively on the issues of show-running, creative consistency, and marketing of The Book of Carol. It’s not even about shipping, really. On the contrary, this post is to share some thoughts about Daryl as he is now, viewed a bit thru a trauma lens.

Before I start, I feel it’s important to note that I am an LCSW, or Licensed Clinial Social Worker, in the US.

A big part of viewing what’s going on with Daryl’s character is to start by posing some important questions: Where is Daryl emotionally? What’s going on in is his headspace? Is he clinging to what’s there in France because he feels utterly alone and resigned to his fate? What if Daryl is actually able to open himself up to Laurent and Isabelle in part because of his relationship with Carol and not in spite of it? What if he’s capable of connection & love with others precisely because his OG found-family showed him what it can look like in so many ways? Hear me out. It is a powerful thing to consider, especially given that Carol, Judith, and his family undeniably shaped Daryl, offering him his first real sense of belonging and trust. Now it appears totally lost to him - a devastating, compounded, and total loss. And he is NOT OKAY.

That doesn’t mean it isn’t OOC for him to connect with others the way he has and/or regress. As we know, trauma survivors like Daryl, especially those with histories of domestic violence, complex trauma, childhood abuse, and neglect, often find themselves in cyclical patterns of vulnerability. It does make sense that Daryl, even after growing in his relationships with Carol and the fam, might still be susceptible to getting involved in dysfunctional relationship dynamics (cough *Leah* cough) His need to care for others, while being a strength, also exposes him to people who might exploit that—whether intentionally or not. He is, in a sense, truly acting out of character.

In Daryl's current emotional state he’s completely unmoored (by a literal ocean of impossible distance no less) from his foundation of emotional safety, and has appeared to regress to the point of being unrecognizable to some. The idea that Daryl's protective nature and discomfort with intimacy coexists with an ability to be exploited by others, speaks volumes to the complexity of trauma responses and his arrested development. Daryl can embody fierce loyalty and affection, yet be caught in cycles of seeking out or gravitating toward what’s familiar, even if that familiarity is rooted in pain or dysfunction. There are not a lot of options for relational safety in the ZA. Isabelle, Leah, and even Rick, all in their own ways, represent that tug of codependency and trauma-bonding for Daryl. Not to mention, when there are children connected, his protective instinct becomes exponential.

Daryl’s current isolation, insecurity, and uncertainty about the depth of Carol’s love and his OG found-family provides a pretty valid underpinning for why he might be more open to a connection with Isabelle and Laurent, and even actively choose it when given the opportunity to go home. It’s not the arc that makes the truest sense for Daryl, but it is still very true to life in the way trauma can regress personal growth, even temporarily.

At the same time, it’s 100% understandable that this shift feels like a betrayal to Daryl’s character, as it undermines the progress he’s made and relationship choices he’s made in the past. The narrative may fall really short of pushing Daryl forward, instead choosing to revert to old tropes that fail to capture the nuance of his journey. By ignoring the potential for deeper, more layered storytelling, the show risks alienating viewers who’ve been invested in Daryl’s growth over the years. It already has, and I see y’all out there. 🫶🏼

Ultimately, it’s the tension between authenticity in trauma responses and narrative sense and progression that leaves the audience, Daryl, and most likely Carol, completely unsatisfied. IRL, growth is non-linear but in fiction, especially after so much buildup (and let’s face it MISDIRECTION) it’s not unfair to expect a clearer arc forward, versus regression into old patterns.

Hopefully, the progression will materialize in resolution which will in turn, lead inevitably to - truly actualized, authentic, and absolute love in all ways for Daryl with the safest, most accepting person person in his life, Carol. After all, Spain is still out there.

Part 2 Coming Soon: Carol and Survivors’ Guilt

[biblio-smia]

the last thing i need — two.

warnings: twd content warnings, contains smut

pairings: glenn rhee x reader

[one.] [two.] [three.]

The ride back to your destination was a silent one, save for the occasional directions from T-Dog and the distant sound of the siren of Glenn's new ride.

Nerves prickled at your skin like needles as you considered your minimal options; you'd just gotten saved by this group. You thought it'd be a little rude to abandon them immediately. But the reaction of the group worried you the most; you weren't sure how welcoming they were of newcomers.

Seeing Rick reunite with his family was heartwarming - what were the chances he ran into people that ran with them? It was almost hard to believe Rick had been in the dark about the state of the world until recently. Part of you wondered how it'd take for him to lose his humanity. For all of you to lose it.

This new world came with new rules - though you didn't know how well your morals would hold up now.

The camp accepted you into their group with no argument, seemingly in a good mood after seeing a family brought together.

The campfire provided the warmth you needed and Glenn's body next to yours provided a warmth you didn't know you craved.

****

You weren't quite sure what to do with yourself once the flames died out, a reflection of the group's energy. You stood around, watching the embers of the fire die out as everyone packed into their tents. A cool breeze picked up, nipping at your skin tauntingly.

"You can sleep with me."

You turned around, surprised at the sudden voice.

"I mean," You could see the embarrassment on Glenn's face despite the pale moonlight. "I didn't mean it in that way."

You couldn't help the giggle that escaped you, prompting a small, awkward laugh from Glenn.

"Okay. I don't really have a choice, do I?" Your attempt at a joke came out much too dry. Too late. You could see, or more so sense, Glenn's face fall.

You stepped closer to Glenn, lowering your voice and drawing him in.

"I'd love to sleep with you. In that way."

Quickly walking past him, you climbed into his small orange tent, the embarrassment suddenly catching up to you.

Glenn followed shortly after, balled up flannel held stiffly in front of his legs as he took a seat as far away from you as possible.

You shot him a curious glance, only momentarily distracted by the tight t-shirt he was wearing.

Glenn glanced away quickly, hands pulling the fabric closer against himself.

A small smile made its way to your face as you closed the distance between you and Glenn - though there wasn't much to begin with.

"Glenn." You placed your hands over his, trying to pry the flannel away.

"Glenn." Placing one hand on his face, you got him to look at you, to see the gentle smile on your face. "I was serious."

You tugged on the flannel again, all the strength leaving Glenn as he let you do what you wanted. You stared at Glenn's jeans, straining against his erection.

"I-" Glenn began, but you cut him off.

"Let me help you?"

Glenn audibly gulped, but nodded. That was all you needed.

You kissed Glenn gently, savoring the feeling of his soft lips against yours. His flannel had fallen out of your hand and landed somewhere on the ground nearby - your hand was now occupied with stroking Glenn through his jeans.

You tilted Glenn’s head back to deepen the kiss, increasing the pressure of your hand against Glenn’s jeans. Glenn moaned softly into your mouth and into your ear as you moved your lips to his cheek and down his neck. Your lips were running out of places to wander and so you removed yourself completely from Glenn.

"Shirt off." You ordered, taking off your own. It was a little funny to see Glenn clumsily do as you said, already missing your touch.

You took a moment to admire Glenn - his toned arms and stomach contrasted his soft face and demeanor. He captured your lips this time, hands messily traveling around your waist.

"Here-" you whispered in between kisses. You stripped yourself nude and Glenn became the brightest shade of red you'd ever seen.

"Shit..." Glenn's hands froze, unsure of what he was allowed to do.

You took his hands in yours, guiding them up to your chest. You let out a low moan as he began exploring the area, his gentle movements sending heat straight between your legs.

Your kisses became more aggressive as you moved onto Glenn's lap, needing more of him. Your bare chest pressed against his as your hands gently tugged at Glenn’s hair, wet kisses exchanged as lust completely took over. The heat between your legs was one only he could put out now that he'd ignited it.

You rolled your hips as Glenn's hands continued working you, moans slipping out of him as you moved against his still-clothed dick. His hard-on poked against you as you bounced on him, making you moan into Glenn’s shoulder. “Shit, I can feel you, Glenn.”

"God, please," Glenn whined, placing a hand on your hip. Glenn was going to stain his jeans if this went on any longer. "I- I need you."

"Fuck, Glenn." You muttered, shoving your tongue into his mouth.

Your hands moved down to unbutton Glenn's jeans, his hands coming down to help you in getting them and his underwear off.

You clenched against nothing just seeing him, almost unable to wait for the feeling of Glenn inside of you. He was already leaking in anticipation, eager for your touch.

Your hands wrapped around him immediately, messily twisting and jerking, small gasps and whines from Glenn making you drip.

"Fuck, you're good, you're so good," Glenn moaned quietly, head thrown back in pleasure. It wasn't long before he stopped your hands from working him.

"Wait," he panted. "I wanna..." Glenn's eyes moved down to your legs and you understood his wordless intentions. Slowly, you moved your hands off him and to your own jeans, slowly slipping your bottom layers off.

And, God, you were beautiful.

Glenn pushed a pile of clothes together to create more space between you and the cold, hard ground of the tent, laying you down gently.

"Is this good? Are you okay?" Glenn asked nervously, glancing at your eyes for any hint of regret as he hovered over you.

"I'm good." You ran your fingers through Glenn's hair, pushing back some that had fallen into his eyes. "I'm better than good."

"Can I... Can I touch you?"

"Yes," You nodded. "Please do."

"I'm not really good at this," Glenn warned. "So just tell me if I do something wrong, okay?"

"Okay."

Glenn felt your arousal, fingers slick as he entered them into you. He bit back a moan as he felt you, wet because of him. Glenn took his time fingering you, sweet and slow movements making you bite your tongue to keep from letting the entire camp know how skilled Glenn's hands were.

"Glenn," urgency filling your voice. "I need you in me, now."

"Shit, yeah, okay," Glenn nodded with only a moment's hesitation. "I don't have- I don't have a condom."

"Doesn't matter," Your desire dazed you, keeping you from thinking straight. "Just pull out?"

"Yeah, okay," Glenn nodded again, hands on your hips to keep you steady.

You closed your eyes in anticipation, though nothing could've prepared you for the sweet feeling of Glenn, filling you with something you'd never felt before.

You muffled your moans with your hands, which were quickly replaced with Glenn's lips, his own sounds of pleasure mixing with yours.

He lifted one of your legs, muscles flexing with strain as he pushed further into you. His thrusts started sweet yet purposeful, hitting you in exactly the right place.

"God, Glenn." Your back arched into him, his movements quickening. You knew you were done for as he moved his face to your shoulder in an attempt to muffle his loudest moan yet.

"Glenn, I'm gonna- " You were cut off by Glenn's swollen lips on yours, sloppy kisses exchanged as you came, sweetly and with nothing else to lose.

Glenn pulled out quickly, coming right after. His will had broken down when your high was reached, knowing he couldn't last long after the feeling of you unloading around him - knowing he had helped you reach euphoria.

Your chest heaved as Glenn searched for something to clean your mess up with, already missing the feeling of Glenn inside of you. It felt right - his body pressed against yours, filling all the empty spaces you were missing.

You shook yourself out of your thoughts, cleaning up alongside an equally winded Glenn. He laid down next to you, turning to face you.

"That was... amazing." Glenn whispered, cupping your face in his hand, mindful of your bruised cheek.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He kissed you again, gently. This one, however, was full of hope.

****

The crunching of leaves under your boots seemed like the loudest thing in the world compared to the silence of the camp, the only persisting sound being a variety of bugs singing.

“Going somewhere?” A voice asked expectantly, almost out of nowhere.

Shit. You forgot Shane was on watch.

You turned around quickly. In the dim moonlight, you could make Shane out from a few feet away. You thought about your words before you spoke. Shane seemed like a reasonable man. A protective one, too.

“We both know it's better if I leave," you said honestly.

Shane scoffed. “For who? You? Because we both know it wouldn't be for the camp. Power in numbers, remember?”

Shane was smiling, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. His right hand inched near his back pocket - it was a subtle movement, but you had a good eye.

You laughed, demeanor changing immediately. “You're right,” you said. “I guess I was just... so used to being on my own. Don't know what I was thinking."

It was an obvious lie, but the break you forced your voice to take helped your case.

Shane’s hands dropped to his side and he smiled. “Glenn seems to taken a liking to you. Why don't ya get back to him?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, heading back to the direction of the tent you had left Glenn in. “Goodnight, Shane,” you said with a sweet smile as you passed the man, careful to keep your distance.

“Goodnight.”  

Your smile dropped as you turned around, rage filling you instead. You weren't sure if you imagined it now, the darkness of the night potentially messing with your eyes, but you made a note never to be alone with Shane again.

You entered the tent quietly, a half-naked Glenn sleeping soundly just as you'd left him. He'd fallen asleep with his arms wound around you, making your escape difficult and clearly in vain as you carefully placed his arms around you again. You turned away from him.

You didn't want to look at the face of the man you had planned on abandoning.

「 … 」

You made sure to get up first, unwinding yourself from Glenn for the second time. This time, however, daylight illuminated his soft features. You took a second to analyze them, his expression showing no indication of the world you lived in. He looked relaxed. Free. You wondered what he was dreaming about.

You left the tent quietly, still respectful of the peace Glenn was able to keep, even if it was just for a few hours. The sun shone over the small camp, the brand new day bringing new opportunities. You asked around for a purpose; you had originally planned on being miles away by now.

One lady, Carol, directed you to the laundry. You complied, the task being easy enough for you to plan your next move. You couldn't leave now, not when everyone was roaming around in broad daylight. You'd keep tabs on who was on watch tonight and run the other way. It was decided.

A quick-moving figure from the corner of your eye caught your attention as it approached. Your attention turned away from the laundry and onto Glenn, who seemed a little out-of-breath.

"You..." a breath, "were gone... thought something happened..."

You almost felt guilty at Glenn's concern.

"Nope. Right here," you remained expressionless, watching as Glenn's face faltered.

"Yeah, I see that now..." Glenn shifted from foot to foot. There was something he wanted to say, but he wouldn't.

Your expectant gaze and cold demeanor made him nervous, fingers bundling the fabric of his shirt.

"Last night..." Glenn waited for you to say anything; you did not. "I just wasn't sure if it... if we—"

"There's no we, Glenn. It was a one time thing." Your words were harsh, but they were true. The last thing you needed right now was romance. You were in an apocalypse! You had bigger things to worry about and so did Glenn. It was nothing more than a little bit of stress relief.

And yet, as you picked up a laundry bin and walked away from a defeated Glenn, you couldn't help but feel a pull at your heart.

The tug in your chest did not go away as the day went on. Not as you shadowed Carol, helping her out with any task you could. Especially not as you discovered the asshole on the roof had a brother.

Daryl Dixon was as much of a character as Merle. You could see the relationship between the two.

Your heart continued sinking as a plan unfolded — a completely stupid one — and the look Rick gave Glenn, asking him to come along. The nail in the coffin was Glenn agreeing to go.

A panic began to fester in you as Glenn prepared to leave. You weren't quite sure what made you approach him.

"You're seriously going back?" Your voice surprised Glenn, who jumped before turning to face you.

"I have to," Glenn said factually.

"Then I'm coming with you." You weren't sure where the sentiment came from; you did not feel strongly about saving Merle.

"No, you're not. We barely got out last time—" "Which is exactly why you shouldn't go." You crossed your arms, an annoyed look on your face.

Glenn sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"We left one of our own behind. I can't... as awful as he is, I couldn't live with myself knowing we just left him to die. He could still be alive up there."

You looked in Glenn's eyes, seeing the determination in his eyes. Although there was a hint of fear mixed in, it was almost the most passionate you'd seen Glenn.

And as much as you hated to admit it, you were in no condition to go back. You were tired and you were hungry. Your legs still ached from your escape and you weren't sure you'd be able to outrun another hoard of walkers.

And if you learned anything about Glenn other than his name, you knew he left no one behind. No exceptions.

"Okay," you said finally. Glenn hadn't been asking for your permission but a weight lifted off his shoulders regardless, a smile cracking on his face. "But I don't like owing people things. And as of right now, I owe you my life, Glenn. I need to repay you for that, so don't die on me out there."

Glenn's smile faltered and you held back a smile. After careful consideration and a little hesitation, you placed a soft kiss on Glenn's cheek. Glenn could only stand there, dumbfounded, watching as you walked away.

[chelseypprimrose]

My Little Hatefuck / Negan x Rhee!Reader / 18+

Summary: You hate the man who killed your brother in cold blood, but that doesn’t mean you don’t want to fuck him.

Warnings: fight scene between reader and Negan (they love each other really kinda.) usual rough/hate sex themes, talk of death/murder, choking, minimal foreplay (there’s walkers right outside the door wtf do you expect lol), use of belt and rope, denial of feelings, not proof read.

A/N: i’ve left the ending open to a part two as the request was for the reader to have feelings for negan as well so this could potentially be explored in the next part if people want it. 🤍 i just hit 1,000 on one of my previous stories so i just want to say a massive thank you to you all! i only started writing again a couple months ago and i’ve been welcomed back in with sm love, i love the twd community 🤍 enjoy x

that whistle, that goddamn whistle.

like a lamb to the slaughterhouse, you had been in attendance enough to know what happens after that high pitched sound. it taunted you, haunted your dreams, the visual of your brothers eye popped out of the socket, crimson blood dripping from his dented skull down his face as tears rolled down his cheeks. that last whimper of a sentence, a lasting promise to his pregnant wife of once finding her again.

your own tears running free as well, his body finally slumping to the ground as Negan gave his final swift hit to your brothers skull, bits of his smushed flesh flying off the end of the barb wired bat. you’d grimaced, not being able to look at it, not wanting to face the reality that your only remaining blood relative was now gone, after all the shit you’d had to get through to survive this cursed world, for it to be for nothing, to be taken out by a evil and egotistical creature trying to prove a point.

he’d never be able to see his baby grow, never be around to hear their first giggle, see their first steps, it pained your heart just to think of it. you weren’t just thinking of it now though, it had become your reality.

you’d pushed yourself up off your knees, screaming bloody murder, getting fingertips away from grasping his now blooded up leather jacket before his sidekick lackey had grabbed you around your waist, pulling you away from him with a swiftness, your legs reaching out to try and kick Negan in the chest.

“someday, you monster! someday i’ll fucking kill you! you’ll be begging me to slit your throat when i’m fucking done with you.”

he’d just laughed at your anger, staring you down with a certain glint in his eye that you couldn’t understand.

a couple months down the line, you were still hurting. becoming the saviours personal bitches hadn’t sat right with you. you were secretly seething with Rick for allowing them to use you all as a personal doormat, Negan had well and truly broken him down to a shadow of what he once was. this man had ripped out someone’s throat with only his teeth before, but now all he did when they visited was back down and cower away from them. you’d tried to remind yourself that he was just trying to keep you all safe, including his own family. it was hard for you to stomach, Rick still had his family, still had his son, you had no one. with Maggie being sent to hilltop, you had no one that knew what you were going through, everyone hurt after Glenn’s passing but nowhere near how you felt.

he kept coming around, that stupid fucking bat sat on his shoulder, even making Rick hold it, having to bite your tongue to keep you from saying something that would get either yourself or someone else killed. always looking at him with fire in your eyes, unrestrained anger and hatred. he never looked at you the same way though, that unknown glint still shining through.

you wanted to scream at him again, wanted to wrap your hands around his throat and watch him squirm, watch his eyes flicker at the realisation he was going to die at the hands of you. it was one of the thoughts that kept you going, gave you a reason to see this through, you had nothing tying you to Alexandria anymore other than your relationships with those you’d travelled this journey with, they’d told you time and time again that you were family, while you knew what they said was true, it just wasn’t the same as having your brother fighting by your side. they’d supported you as best they could given the situation, you hadn’t had to cook in weeks, Rick always allowing you to deny going on supply runs, you would outright refuse. you needed something to keep you busy and taking out your anger on the undead was therapeutic.

you missed the stupid jokes he’d tell you when he could tell you were sad, not leaving your side until you were laughing along with him. the way his eyes had lit up when he told you he was expecting a child, engulfing him into a massive hug at the news.

you’d been looking over maggie’s false grave around the back of the compound, it being the closest thing you could get to being at your own brother’s grave at hilltop. even knowing she was alive, it still pained you to see a grave dedicated to her, made you realise that’s how you’d all end up eventually, if Negan was to be victorious.

you had felt his eyes over you for the past couple minutes, it taking everything in you to try and ignore his presence. you let out a sarcastic, angry sigh while crossing your arms over your chest. “can i help you at all? or are you just gonna keep staring at me?” you piped up, shuffling some of the dirt underneath your foot. he lowly chuckles, his heavy footsteps getting closer to you before you felt the leather of his jacket swipe against your arm, making you flinch slightly away from him. your skin burnt with anger, taking a deep breath in through your mouth and out of your nose as you fought your natural reaction to pounce on him, you’d thought of this scenario time and time again.

how you’d slit his throat, watch him bleed out like a stuffed pig, laughing as the tears would slowly roll down his cheeks. how he’d beg you for his life, how he’d apologise for what he had done, falling to the ground in desperation, his breathing getting shallow the more he bled out. his deep voice pulled you out of your comforting thoughts.

“damn tragedy. that’s what this is.” he tutted, leaning down on his knees, examining maggie’s tombstone. you scoffed, how dare he! even if he didn’t know that she wasn’t really dead, if she would have died, it would have been a direct consequence of the pain he’d put her through to begin with.

“don’t act like you give a shit about her. you sure as hell didn’t give a shit when you were bashing her husbands skull in.” he tilted his head up to look at you, you holding his gaze, the last thing you were going to do was cower to him like the rest of Alexandria had become accustomed to doing.

“you are such a damn spitfire doll, you know that! you ain’t like the rest of them are you sweetheart?” he rose to his feet, now towering over you again. “talking back to me like that! knowing damn well i could take lucille to that pretty little head of yours. don’t think i haven’t forgotten about that night, you threatened to kill me! right in front of my saviours, now that… that took balls. so tell me doll, are you brave or just fucking stupid?”

now it was your turn to laugh.

“i suppose you’ll find out Negan… when i finally see it through.”

you were sick of it, having to watch as those vultures loaded up their vans with supplies you had scavenged for, risked life and limb to keep yourselves afloat. as the male saviours look at you, eyes taking over your body, you didn’t even want to think about what filthy fantasies they were having in their minds. it made you feel sick to your stomach, the end of the world had only allowed for people to act upon those depraved thoughts and desires with no fear of police enforcement or consequences of their behaviour, practically a free for all.

you could see Negan in the distance, using his bat as a pointer stick, directing his band of merry fuckwads towards what he wanted to take back with him, he’d already cleared out your homes, mattresses, food, weapons. you name it, he’d got his dirty paws on it.

after your little tête-à-tête with the man himself earlier, you felt accomplished. you weren’t going to hide the truth, how when the time was right you’d have no problem killing him where he stood. you wanted the thought to run around in his subconscious, that threat always lingering in the back of his mind.

you imagined that running such a ‘successful’ group had probably given him the inflated ego akin to a military captain, meaning he was lured into a sense of false security. who would dare question his authority? knowing what he could do to them.

you watched as he exchanged words with rick before getting into the front leading grey truck, his eyes scanned the crowd that had gathered around the trucks before landing on you, leaning back into the seat relaxed, a grin on his face as he tipped his head towards you like he was wearing a cowboy hat, slapping the side of the truck commanding the driver to start driving away.

you turned back towards your house, preparing yourself to assess the damage of what those brutes had done to your personal property. you’d expected to see all your possessions destroyed, your picture frames on the floor, glass everywhere. your favourite blanket you’d carried with you since the start taken with no care to the sentimental value it held for you. the bookshelves to be pulled over and broken, your collection of books you’d accumulated over the years to be stripped away from you, one of the only activities that made you feel somewhat like you were back in the world before the apocalypse.

as you walked through the threshold, you were shocked to find that it was like nothing had been touched? no damages to anything, your belongings were just as you had left them. the pictures of you and your brother were still on top of the non working fireplace you had in the lounge, your blanket left neatly folded as you had folded it this morning after you woke up. making your way upstairs, you checked your bedroom, you almost couldn’t believe that your bed was still there, mattress and all, the only difference being a small crumpled bit of paper that had been poorly smoothed out, the deep crinkles still very much there. you picked it up, seeing scribbled handwriting in black ink.

“i’m not always a bad guy.

- N”

you allowed a small smile to creep on your face, before it left just as quickly, the guilt eating you alive. was this an apology? a peace offering? he must have known this was your place from the various pictures of you and glenn darted around the rooms.

you were on your back, large hunting knife still strapped to your front, the wind causing the dust to create a fog of dirty air. it had all gone to shit so quickly, from the kingdom and hilltop storming Alexandria at the last minute to save Carl from being killed at the hands of Negan, running up on Negan at the Sanctuary, Gregory turning on the hilltop, obviously scared of Negan and the Saviours.

you had no clue where anyone was, the walkers now taking over the lower bay of the Sanctuary, you’d been diverted every which way, just trying to find salvation before you accidentally tripped over your own feet, trying to scramble away to safety.

picking yourself up you saw a outhouse like building a couple minutes run away, weighing your options you hauled towards it, pushing walkers away from you before grasping the handle, flinging the door open and running inside. as you turned and slammed the door behind you, the light dwindling leaving you with barely any vision. you bent forward, hands on your knees trying to desperately catch your breath back.

slumping towards the wall, you allowed your body to rest, the smell of dirty walkers invading your nostrils accompanied by the moans and groans of them as well. you hoped everyone had managed to get away okay, the feeling of anxiety overwhelmed your body at the unknown fate of your peers.

you’d finally managed to get your breathing back to normal, feeling slightly more relaxed than you did, getting up off the dirty floor to survey your surroundings and start planning how in the hell you were going to get out of this fucking mess. you’d noticed some basic supplies scattered around, a bit of rope, a small half filled bottle of water and a rusty crowbar. you pocketed the rope and took a sip of the lukewarm water before throwing the bottle back onto the ground.

formulating your plan of action was abruptly cut short when the door you’d entered from burst open without warning, you’d grabbed for your knife again, pointing it towards the figure who’d just entered. the light coming through the door again blinded you for a few moments before shutting again, your eyes trying to adjust to the darkness. the heavy panting of the shadowy figure sounded all too familiar.

you could have thanked god in that moment, that he had delivered you just the person you’d hoped would have run out of luck, all packaged up with a pretty bow on top. it was only Negan, looking absolutely distressed and out of breath, obviously having had to fight off walkers, just the same as you. you carefully stepped further into the corner, trying to keep out of sight, formulating your next movements. you could finally do it, finally get him back, remove him off the face of the earth so ‘Negan and the Saviours’ were no longer anything more than a minor blip in history.

“god-fucking-damn it!” he growled, his tone angry, slamming his bat into the metal wall, making it wobble under the force of the smack. you could see his thoughts running at a mile a minute, the same look of ‘how the fuck do i get out of this one?’ that you’d had on your face only a couple minutes prior.

as his back turned towards you, you decided to go for it, leaping from your hiding spot, your heart beating out of your chest, you shoved him down onto his knees, a gruff sound of his breath hitching at the force, his precious weapon falling to the side of him.

you laid your entire weight on his back, your hands digging into his shoulders, your knife clattering on the metal floor just at the side of you, forcing him onto his stomach, your knee pressed deep into his lower back to deny him getting up. the element of surprise had made this all too easy.

“who the fuck are you?” he grunted out, trying to throw you off his back, your knee now shaking at how forcefully you were digging it into him.

“i told you i’d fucking kill you.” you spat at him, his body tensing up as your voice hit his ears. he gave a breathless, sarcastic chuckle.

“well…well…well, fancy bumpin’ into you doll! tell me, how’s ricks big master-fucking-plan working out for you?”

“brilliantly, considering you are now a second away from me slitting your throat.”

Negan pushed up with almighty force, putting you off balance, capitalising on your shock, he whipped around, coming down on top of you, your legs forced open as he parted them with his large frame, now holding you down, your arms above your head pushed into the ground.

“when i imagined us in this position doll, it wasn’t in a goddamned metal tin can, i can tell you that much.”

you growled at the idea - that he’d imagined you in such a compromising position. hearing this, you manoeuvred your legs to having your feet on his chest, pushing him over with all your force. he landed on his back with a thud, slightly yelping out at the pain.

you planted yourself on top of him, straddling his lower body, grabbing your knife and holding it just under his chin.

“you know, i’ve been thinking of this for months. why’d you have to do it, Negan? why?! my only family still breathing, butchered down by the likes of you! he was going to be a father! you tore me apart and laughed in the process. you think leaving me my stuff means i forgive what you did to me?!” you sneered at him, your rage now taking over, hot tears starting to pool in your eyes as the pain of what he’d done to you got too much to hide.

you expected him to laugh at you, just as he had before, planning to go out the way he had always been, cold hearted and evil. you were met with the exact opposite, he looked defeated, like the mask he used to hide had been ripped off.

“if i could take it back i would.” your eyes went wide, that wasn’t what you were expecting him to say. you pressed the knife a little harder into his chin, a small gash created under the pressure.

“i mean it doll, if i’d known he was your brother�� i never would have touched him.” you almost dropped the knife, his confession hitting you.

“why? why am i any different to the other sisters?! the other family members of the people you’ve butchered, killed, fucking murdered? all for some pathetic little crusade? we’ve got enough fucking problems with the dead coming back to eat our asses!”

he sighed, putting his gloved hand on the blade, raising his eyebrows to indicate he wanted you to move it so he could sit up properly. you moved slow, with caution, ready to pounce again if this was some sort of false pretence. you allowed him to sit forward, his arms now coming out to balance himself, palms sat flat on the ground.

your chest now pressed up against his, as he looked you directly in your eyes, the hint of fear gone from his face. you should have killed him when you could, the guilt now entering your heart as he looked at you with such intensity.

“because, i see a headstrong, independent and straight up badass woman who doesn’t take shit from any fucker. i’d just beat the shit out of rick, cracked the holy hell out of two of your people and you still had the guts to threaten to slit my fucking throat.” you clasped his leather jacket under your hands, while still holding your knife at a downward angle, the blade sat on his thigh.

“and it also helps that you.. sweetheart - are one of the sexiest women i’ve ever seen this side of the apocalypse.”

your heart swooned, fuck you shouldn’t have been thinking like this.

he was the enemy, the man who had tormented you and your people for months on end, he’d killed your relative, for god sake! but in this moment, when all the theatrics, the violence, the destruction was taken away and it was the two of you staring into each other’s eyes, you didn’t care about that. you knew he was going easy on you, he could have grabbed Lucille with little to no effort and bashed your skull in, leaving you for dead but he didn’t. he was sat here with you, allowing you to be on top, in the power position.

you let your intrusive thoughts get the better of you, allowing the knife to slip from your grasp, one of your hands coming to cup his cheek, planting a long kiss on his lips. the attraction was there, you knew it, you’d known it since you laid eyes on him but everything in your soul told you it was wrong, it was borderline sinful to be so attracted to a man who had done such horrible things to people you cared the most about. you’d be banished if your people could see you now… but you didn’t fucking care.

when your lips separated, you felt his fingertips brush against your thighs, his hands gripping at your ass. Negan kissed your jawline, moving to the base of your neck, finally pressing his lips into the hollow of your throat, sending chills through to your spine. gently nibbling on your earlobe, you heard yourself softly moan, almost trying to repress your pleasure. you involuntarily started squirming your hips slightly in response to his actions.

“you are a real bastard - but you are going to give me this. i deserve this, Negan.”

he removed his hand from your ass, reaching around shrugging your thin jacket off your shoulders, followed by pulling your white top over your head, exposing your bra to him. you hastily reached around yourself, unhooking your bra, letting it fall into your lap before Negan moved it to the side of you. his hands then explored your chest, leaving harsh bites in a trail from your neck down to your breasts.

his tongue began tantalising your nipples one at a time, circling them, flicking back and forth across them - then kissing and sucking on them. his hand slipped to your jeans, unbuttoning them, pulling the zip down, caressing your pussy, slipping in-between your lips, finding your clit and harshly pressing down on it. he kissed his way back up your upper body, going over your neck, jawline and then back to your lips. he was still circling your clit, you tugged at his belt, slipping it open and pulling it out of its loops.

lifting yourself up you pulled his jeans down just enough to expose his erect, strong, and fucking big cock.

“i guess you are allowed to have such a annoyingly big ego.” you stated, Negan being brought out of his trance to grin at your statement.

looking at it sent a chill through you, the words you gave out were starting to get drowned out by the noises of the walkers outside the four walls, reminding you they could burst through at anytime. you momentarily rolled back off him, the loss of pressure on your clit making you whine out, pulling your jeans fully off.

you looked back at Negan, his glove glistening with your wetness as he put his hand into his mouth, tasting you.

“you taste fucking delicious doll.” he leaped forward, causing you to now be on your back, the same position he had you in earlier, running his hands over your breasts again, towering over you to kiss you, tasting yourself on his tongue.

slipping a hand between your bodies, you began stroking his cock, the pre cum dripping down onto your hand. supporting himself on one elbow, he took over your hands position on his cock, moving to line himself up. you felt the head of his cock probing your pussy, teasing your entrance. he moved his hips forward pushing his cock into into you, a loud moan escaping your lips.

once he’d positioned himself just right, Negan slid his arms under your back, supporting himself on his elbows while holding you in position. he began taking long but hard thrusts, almost ripping you apart. you raised your legs behind his back, crossing your ankles behind him. you twisted your hips, joining him to meet his thrusts, a grinding motion of your own. he took one hand off your back, causing your body to slump a bit as you propped yourself up on your elbow replacing yourself in the position. his hand he’d moved grasped your throat, just as hard as he was thrusting his hips into you.

“i might be a bastard doll, but you can’t deny those pretty slut noises you are making right now. you feel so good wrapped around my cock.”

you whimpered at his dirty mouth, you weren’t even in a good enough headspace to rebuke what he had claimed.

he continued to drill into you, you felt yourself shiver as the feeling built up inside your core. that pleasurable feeling you hadn’t felt in a good long while, never bothering to find love in such a fucked up world, no matter how many urges you had. you used your free hand to start circling your clit, trying to race to finish first, you knew the danger of staying here for too long. the pressure of his hand on your throat, the force of him continuing to rutt into you, your walls grasping him in a death grip.

“come on doll, i can feel it, cum for me. come on!”

he gave three sudden hard drives through you, joined with the pulsating of his cock you could feel deep inside you. your legs tightened around his torso out of reflex as your head threw back, the ecstasy laced sensation finishing you off as a few profanities slipped out of your mouth.

he followed behind you, as you felt him pull out, coating your inner thigh with his spend. he kept a hold of you as you both tried to catch your breath, the realisation of what you’d done hitting you just as hard as your orgasm had. you felt disgusted with yourself, not that you’d had sex but who’d you’d had sex with. you had let yourself get swept away with the pleasure, the carnal need to get yourself off and now you’d done something you could never take back.

you grabbed your jeans, pulling them back up your legs and re-buttoning them up. grabbing your bra, you readjusted it back on your body along with your top and jacket as well.

“why the rush doll?” fuck, you’d almost forgot he was even there.

“well, it might be something to do with the impending walkers at the fucking door, Negan… or the fact i just had sex with probably the worst choice of person i could have ever had sex with?”

his face dropped at that, “come on doll, did the pouring of my heart out earlier not change your mind about me? i’m not a fucking asshole, i’m just someone trying to protect the people who look to me to protect them.”

that caught the attention from your actions, you looked at him, still sat on the ground, his now flaccid cock laying on his lower stomach.

you scoffed, putting your hands in your pockets, feeling the rope still place there, you had to move fast.

you made your way over to him, cupping his face lovingly, making it seem like you were going to kiss him, before shoving the rope in his mouth, tying it tightly around the back of his head, his eyes widening at your actions.

shoving him around with all your force onto his stomach, you grabbed his discarded belt, looping it at his elbows, pulling the belt through the buckle and popping it onto the tightest hole there was. Negan struggled against you, trying his best to fight out of the belt you’d caged him with, his post orgasm energy wasn’t enough coupled with the pain now shooting through his manhood at the force you’d pushed him down at.

you pulled him up, he was resting on his knees, the same position he’d had you all on the night at the RV all those months ago. you couldn’t deny the full circle moment left a sweet taste on your tongue.

you grabbed your knife, sheathing it back in place, before turning back to look at him once more.

“plea-se don’t, i want you to be with me!” he said, at least that’s what you think he’d said, the words coming out all muffled from the rope being in his mouth.

you laughed.

“oh i’m sorry? did you think that just because i let you into my panties, i was going to spare your life? oh no honey, i’ll let the walkers have at you.” you bent down to his face, giving him a patronising kiss on the cheek, he was still rutting around trying to get out of the restraints as he looked at you murderously. “let’s hope they tear that big cock of yours off your body first.” you moved to the exit, winking at him.

“although, if by some miracle you escape this? come find me, you know where i’ll be. this? this has been fun.”

you pulled your knife out, hand on the door, ready to fight your way through however many remained outside, leaving some for dear old negan though.

[weretheones]

All You Got | Part 7

Part 7: Burning Out

Plot: Daryl Dixon hadn’t known much beyond anger and loneliness his whole life, until he found family at the end of the world. Everything he grew to care about was ripped away the day the prison fell; so when he recognized you, an enforcer of his loss, hiding in that cabin, he almost pulled the trigger. But after you end up saving his life, he couldn’t find the indifference to leave you for dead, even if you’d been on the Governor’s side. (Mid-Late Season 4) 

Series Masterlist | AO3 Version

Paring: Eventual Daryl Dixon x Reader Word Count: 5k Warnings: description of injury, infection, and other typical twd content. mentions of death. A/N: oh hi <3 im happy to be back with a new part for you guys. definitely needed that break. I had my last class of university this week and I've just been a bundle of feelings lately. thank you for being so patient and for all the lovely comments lately :) mwah! enjoy

These last few years, the fight had been constant— to find shelter, to defend a friend, to get your next meal. Each day was like a knife at your throat, leaving you to wonder when the blade would finally pierce and bleed you dry. 

It was an oddly empty feeling when there was nothing left to do. A gnawing in your gut, like you'd been doing to the raw skin of your thumb the last half hour, as if there was an answer you were forgetting. 

You ran through the list for the ninth time. The last of that antibiotic cream. Dressings coated in a layer of honey— Daryl taught you that one. A damp cloth over his forehead. As much ibuprofen as you could give him. You’d done it all. Now there was nothing left to do but wait for the fever to break. 

It was miserable. 

The room was dark, lit by a single candle. Sometimes it flickered with your occasional sigh. Otherwise, it cast a gentle glow across the small bedroom. You sat in a cushioned chair by the door, five feet from Daryl’s bedside. It had been in the living room until you dragged it in here yesterday, falling into the same routine as you did now. Chin resting in your palm and a lazy stare at the sick man ahead. 

It’d gotten bad since that first day. Infection came— of course, it did— and without much more than that antibiotic cream and the rest of the drugs you'd used for your leg, Daryl was forced to fight through it. That meant long, feverish nights like this one. 

Waiting. 

“Ya jus’ gonna stare at me all night?” 

You sat up. His eyes were narrowed into a slit, but open. With only the low flicker of the candle beside you, they almost looked black. 

“You’re awake.” 

“Guess so,” Daryl mumbled. “Hot as hell in ‘ere.” 

He was already stripped of his vest, that flannel he wore on cold nights, and his boots. Yesterday, in one of his steadier moments, you’d dug a simple black t-shirt from the dresser and made him change. It took him a couple of minutes, his shoulder still stiff and swollen with infection. It gave you time to wash his usual sleeveless button-down as best as you could, though a litter of blood stains still dried across the fabric. 

As you stepped closer, flickering candle in hand, you could see the damp mark of sweat around his collar, but if anything, the room was cool. 

“Your fever’s getting worse.” 

You grabbed the cloth from his forehead. It was tepid on the edges, warm where it rested against his skin. Puffy eyes met yours, scanning your serious expression. He’d been asleep for hours. You’d only managed to get a few with that anxious pit in your stomach waking you up, over and over. 

“Feel like shit.” He adjusted his spot, sitting up against the pile of pillows behind him with a low groan. You passed him his bottle of water and placed it back after he’d had a few sips. 

“How long I been sleepin’?” 

“Most of the night.” You sat by his legs. The bed was bare of its thick blanket; you’d torn it off him when his skin started to burn. The top sheet was thin enough that you let him keep it when the chills hit. He kicked it down when the first hot flash came. “You woke up a couple of times.” 

“Don’t remember tha’.” 

“I figured. You’ve been pretty out of it.”

Daryl nodded, eyes as tired as they’d looked at sunset. Yours must’ve been similarly drained. 

“Ya got any sleep yet?” 

“A bit,” you said. “I’m fine.” 

“Ya don’t look fine.” 

You gave him a playful, lopsided grin. “You sure know how to make a girl feel special.” 

Daryl huffed, eyes falling to his lap. But your tease had done what it meant: to distract away from the bloom of purple that was, no doubt, forming under your eyes. Those sickening worries about Daryl’s health were already suffocating. You didn’t need the weight of your well-being piled on top. 

“You hungry?” 

He hummed yes. That was a good sign, you thought, before drifting out of the room. 

Dawn was still a few hours away. You walked the dark halls of the house you’d come to know, and a few minutes later, that same candlelight welcomed you back into the bedroom Daryl stayed in. You had a bowl of steaming chicken soup and a half-eaten package of crackers in hand. It was a good thing you’d gone for the bag, after all. If you hadn’t, it would’ve been just another thing to worry about.

His appetite was low, but better than it’d been the last couple of days. There were still three crackers he hadn’t touched and a quarter of soup left, but he seemed adamant about having the rest later. Food was often in such short supply that he wouldn’t dare waste a bite. 

“Thanks,” he muttered. 

You placed his bowl of leftover soup and the half-eaten package of crackers on the dresser you’d raided for cloth, towel, anything that could be boiled sterile and made into a bandage when that roll of gauze finally ran out after his second dressing change. 

Back at his side, you gave him a small smile. “Still feel like shit?” 

He chewed his lip. “Shoulder’s throbbin’ somethin’ awful. Head too.” 

There was a small bump in his hairline left from that day. He hadn’t caught a concussion, but the fever had been giving him a wicked headache. 

“There’s another hour until you can take the next round of painkillers.” You dipped the cloth back into a small bowl of water. Rubbing your thumb along the inches that had become warm, you waited for the fabric to cool. Droplets trickled down as you rang it out, causing ripples to catch in the faint light. It was the only noise in the air, save Daryl’s slow, heavy breaths. 

Until you turned and he caught that dispirited expression across your face. It must’ve been particularly obvious; the candlelight barely reached your face at this angle. As you stepped closer, the glow curtained you in delicate gold. An easy warmth that looked quite special painted across your gentle features, even if they were hinted with regret. 

The closer you got, the harder his head pounded. No, his heart. Which seemed to echo in his head. 

His eyes shifted away when you found that spot next to him again. 

“Should save ‘em anyway.” 

“No. This is what they’re meant for.” 

He huffed as you placed the cloth on his head. As your fingers inched closer to his skin, he blinked rapidly. It wasn’t quite a flinch, but you felt the resistance all the same.

“Still. Might need ‘em later.” 

“You need them now,” you challenged. “We’ll have time to find more when you’re better.” 

When. 

“Guess you’re the boss.” 

You scoffed. If anything was in charge, it was that fever. 

“Is there anything you can think of that could help? Another pillow or…” You shook your head, not even sure what else you could offer. 

He rolled his good shoulder back, biting back a groan as he found a comfortable spot against the bed. “‘M alright.” He nodded, even sparing you the smallest curl of his mouth. 

You gave him a bittersweet smile back, fighting the urge to brush his bangs behind his pinkened ear. His cheeks were flushed too, even if he seemed to be retreating back into the warm bed. Perhaps the hot flash was nearing its end. 

“You should drink some more. It’ll help.” You handed him the water again. 

He took small sips. 

It wasn’t until a few minutes later when a distant thump came from the other side of the house, and Daryl didn’t jump up, that you realized just how out of it he was. Thick in the fog of fever and pain, his senses were dull. On the contrary, the twitching in your muscles had started hours ago, a cruel mix of exhaustion and restlessness. It made you more jumpy than sharp, but demanded your attention for every small creak in the house the same. 

Your shoulders tensed, and your head snapped to the side. 

Daryl noticed that. 

“Wha’?” He grumbled. 

A gun sat on the small table next to your chair, next to the book you couldn't read well enough under only candlelight. You stood up and grabbed it, weighing the heavy handle in your palm. You made a mental note to keep your twitching finger off the trigger. 

“Stay put. I’m serious,” you told Daryl with a quick stern glance and closed the bedroom door behind you. 

The wooden floors whined even under the slowest, steadiest steps you could manage. The hallway was thin, drywall stained with cigarette smoke. There were two doors ahead, one on the right leading to a small linen closet and one on the left that passed into the kitchen. Quietly, you made your way to the general area where the noise had come from, near the kitchen, while raising the gun Ross gave you. The exit to the back porch was there and, fuck, what if someone had snuck in? What if they had a gun and cruel intentions and what if you had to— 

Deep breath. 

You hovered in the same spot for a second longer, waiting for the drum of your heart to slow. It wasn’t much, but at least you were able to open your eyes without that dizzy fog suffocating you again. 

It was only a few more steps to the kitchen’s doorway. With your back to the wall, you reached the hallway’s end and peeked around the corner. 

Good thing you only peeked. 

A figure caught under the moonlight. It shuffled past the small window, looking out to the side of the house. Shadows cascaded onto the cheap tile floors. Two— three— four walkers stumbled past the wrap-around porch. It reminded you of that first night after the prison fell. How Daryl stood watch all night with nothing but his bow as a herd of the dead moved through the street, surrounding the house he'd dragged you into. All night, you sat on that couch, nursing your hurt leg, watching the dance of their shadows along the walls, and avoiding Daryl’s abrasive stare. Waiting for the moment they finally knocked down the door and took you into their cold fingers first. 

This herd didn’t seem as big. Maybe a few dozen. You could only guess from the noise of bodies thumping carelessly into the house’s siding. 

Carelessly— that was good. It meant they hadn’t realized you were here yet. Best keep it that way. 

Delicately, you snuck back to the small bedroom. The thick curtains were already drawn, and that single candle was soft enough that you weren’t inclined to race back and blow it out. 

You opened the door again, and, well, should’ve guessed Daryl would’ve been out of bed, knife in hand and about to open the door himself. The gun slipped into the holster at your belt, and your eyes sought out his. They were uneasy, red-rimmed with dilated pupils.  

“It’s just a group of walkers passing by,” you said in a hushed whisper. “Get back in bed.” 

“How many?” 

“Maybe a couple dozen.” You gently pushed him back toward the bed, twisting the knife out of his grip as you did so. “They didn’t see me, so we can just wait it out.” 

“Ya can’t take ‘em all on.” 

“That’s why we're gonna stay here and be quiet.” 

“You should go.” 

You blinked. 

“What?” 

“If those assholes get in ‘ere, you run,” he said. His voice was hoarse and his accent thicker. “Don’t worry ‘bout me.”

Your brows furrowed. Your whisper was soft, even if pitched with confusion, “Daryl, they don’t know we’re here. They’re not coming in.” 

There was a fog in that usual bright blue. It wasn’t from the dim lighting, either. He was dazed. 

The back of your palm landed against his forehead. Hot. Then dropped to his chest, just below his collarbones. Your hand laid flat against that black cotton, stretched over the broad expanse of his chest, and felt that same burning underneath. Daryl hadn’t flinched, he seemed to give up that impulse when the fever took control, but his eyes did flicker down to your touch. 

You shook your head. “You’re burning up. You don’t know what you’re saying.” Your hand hadn’t fallen off him yet, a lingering touch as the rhythm of his heart became a soft pulse underneath your palm. Gently pressing him back toward the bed, you hushed, “Lie back down. Relax. We’ll be fine.” 

He listened. Whatever that outburst had been about seemed to slip away with the cushion of an old mattress underneath him. It felt like a new weight lifted off your shoulders; you weren’t sure if you could sit through a lecture about how you should leave him for dead. After all he’d done, all you’d done, that just wasn’t an option. 

You sat beside him again. “Here.” You held a pill in the same palm that’d landed on his chest. 

“Thought it was too early?” 

“One more isn’t gonna kill you.” 

The fever could.

He glanced down at the small blue capsule. “How many left?” 

You almost laughed. Feverish, incoherent, and still stubborn. 

“Enough. You need them.” 

If you told him there were only three more pills in that bottle, he’d refuse. You held your tongue and he tossed them into his mouth. Swallowed, leaned back, and groaned. 

“Water?” 

“Elderberries,” he muttered. Your brow furrowed, and he gave you a weak shrug. “Hershel used ‘em for the fever, ‘fore we got back.” 

Hershel. 

You remembered that name. Of course, you did. The Governor had called it out right before he used him as a bargaining chip. Hershel, the man with the long white hair. He’d kneeled in front of that fence, tan shirt damp with sweat and hands tied behind his back. Even tried to reason with the Governor. It was his neck that poured blood, him that inched his way around the cars you were hiding behind when the bullets started flying. 

Until the Governor cornered him. Chopped into his neck three times before his head finally rolled across the bloody grass. 

The memory made your skin pale, your breathing pause. 

A second later, when your vision focused again, Daryl’s eyes were closed. His chest raised and fell with deep breaths, his heavy exhales tickling your clammy skin. 

After you’d had a moment to regain your composure, you asked, “‘Got back’?” 

You weren’t following his train of thought. It seemed to go beyond the weeks the two of you had shared, reaching into his time spent at the prison. That part of his life had been mostly out of bounds for you. Blocked from the casual conversation you sometimes fell into. 

The fever seemed to tear those boundaries down.

“The vet college. We had to— to get the meds for the sick ones,” he muttered under his breath. 

The cloth sitting on his forehead had fallen onto the bed, presumably when he’d gotten up to follow you. Your boundaries seemed to slip away, too; you finally brushed away the damp mess of bangs on his forehead, tucking a few strands behind his ear. 

There was a part of Daryl that never seemed to let up. It went deeper than stubbornness. He was strong, innately, even when his body was failing him. You knew it took a lot out of him to try and follow you out, and had probably brought on some kind of dizzy spell that was making him spill his guts now. 

“Elderberries,” you repeated. “I think I remember. If you make tea, they can help bring down a fever.” 

“Mhm.” 

“Smart man,” you said under your breath. 

He still caught it. Fever and all. 

“He was.” Daryl nodded slowly. His eyes seemed to glaze over again. “He was a good man.” 

A lump caught in your throat, stealing your voice. That old feeling of guilt sunk into you again. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “He didn’t deserve it. None of you did.” 

“Should’a kept lookin’.” 

It was overdue, you thought. Daryl didn’t seem the patient type, not when it came to his own body, at least. Give him a long hunt, he’d be fine. A wound that kept him bedbound? He was itching for something— anything— to do. The worrisome fact that his family was still out there couldn’t have helped. 

You sighed, “We will—” 

“For the Governor.” 

Oh.

“Maybe if I wouldn’a gave up…” 

He sunk deeper into the pillow, mouth moving as incoherent whispers slipped past. 

It dawned on you that Daryl was perhaps his most vulnerable right now. Maybe even more so than when you first cleaned his back. In this moment, that surly, reserved man slipped away to leave someone who… who seemed lost. Guilty, like you. His words left you confused, filling in the gaps in his story, his regrets. 

He’d been looking for the Governor. If you had to guess, which you did, you’d assume after he killed Merle. Daryl had issues with his brother, no doubt, but he’d proved time and time again to be fiercely loyal. To his brother, his people, even you. Why he’d give that up, you couldn’t say. But Daryl didn’t seem irrational, or disinterested. There had to have been a reason— something— to pull him back. 

There was an undeniable part of you that ached to hear more, to let him bare himself to you in ways he hadn’t dared before. Curiosity could prove to be a dangerous thing. The trust between the two of you was fresh. Delicate. Leading him on with questions or letting him ramble in the midst of a daze, could rip it to shreds. 

You refolded, then placed the cloth back on his forehead. 

“Elderberries,” you whispered again. “I’ll look in the morning.” 

The walkers outside were still too close. 

It was quiet for a while. Daryl drifted off to sleep quickly and the dead passed thirty minutes after. You curled in the chair again, chin perched in your palm, leaning over the armrest. There was still that gnawing feeling in your gut. Still that worry that you could be doing more— should be. 

But exhaustion had dulled caution when the dead passed that half hour ago. Your blinks slowed, moments of darkness stretching into seconds, then minutes, and it became nearly impossible to keep your eyes open. 

The last thing you saw was a thin ray of early morning light, slipping between a gap in the curtains. Barely noticeable, until it had landed across Daryl’s face.

It seemed as good a sign as any, you thought, before drifting to sleep.

— 

The fever broke the night of the herd. Cups of elderberry tea helped subdue the few symptoms that lingered, and the stream of puss from his wound seemed to reach an end, after all. Four more days passed by and with them, the constant stress and anxiety that plagued you those late nights. 

A few more hours of sleep under your belt and life had become calm. Idle, even. 

The wind was lazy, its soft huff could barely rustle the fallen leaves. Hues of red, yellow, and anything in between scattered the woods, stretching into the backyard. A sharp crunch under your boot. There was a bite to the air, but the new berries you found had lasted through the weather’s turn. 

All those chilly mornings and early sunsets were not in vain; autumn was here, and winter was nearing, too. Though the cottage had been good enough while Daryl healed, it wasn’t suited to become a permanent stay. Certainly not a home. The surrounding trees were too dense, the walls too thin, and it didn’t matter how many strings of cans you set as alarms since the herd passed that night, you couldn’t sleep without one eye open. 

Even if it hadn’t been for his people still being out there, you’d have to leave. 

With the small bag in one hand, you pulled the first alarm string above your head. It chimed in the wind until it steadied again. It was an effective system; Daryl was opening the back door before you even had a chance to break through the tree line. 

You passed into the backyard with a smile. 

“Hey,” you said.

“Hey. Find anythin’?” 

“Just some berries.” 

The morning’s sun had drifted away within the last ten or so minutes. It wasn’t much of a shock to find the sky had darkened with heavy-looking clouds. 

“We should go in, looks like it's gonna rain,” you said, sliding between his frame and the door. 

It didn’t take long to place those buckets around the porch, just past its cover. A couple of empty, uncapped water bottles sat next to them. It didn’t take long for the rain to start, either. 

Inside, the small table in the kitchen was homemade. Shoddy work, but it could balance the few candles you’d found in the basement when night came. You picked the berries clean of their stems while Daryl confirmed the findings of your foraging were, in fact, edible.

Maybe at the start, when your brother had found that survivalist book, you would’ve been able to tell. But that got lost a mere month after he found it. Since then, you’d only stuck with the basics. What you knew was safe, without a doubt. That meant you spent a lot of time scavenging abandoned buildings instead of the woods. 

Daryl, on the other hand, seemed to know the forest better than anyone. You could assume from that deep accent and the fact that he never cringed at mud on his skin that he wasn’t a city kid. No, he probably grew up in the sticks. The middle of nowhere. In this world, that kind of experience was invaluable. You’d spent many hungry nights, staring at a bush of unrecognizable berries, wondering what could’ve been if you’d had it, too. 

By the time the two of you were done, a damp cold settled along the walls. The rain had been pouring down for some time. It wasn’t as harsh as it had started, but the cool, moist air was sinking in. The temperature of the usually feverish sun dropped, hidden behind grey clouds. 

Daryl started a fire with that wood you’d found a couple of days ago. The pile was dwindling faster than expected; the nights had been cold. The short flames reached up to the bottom of a pot you’d positioned. You poured some rainwater inside, then tossed in a couple rags to sterilize, and waited for it to reach a boil. 

By the time Daryl heard those bubbles begin to break the surface, you had wandered back to that back door, standing with the heat of the fire to your back and the cool breeze brushing across your face. 

You heard his steps approach behind you. 

“I like the rain.” 

Daryl stood at your side, quiet. 

“I always loved that smell, too.” You inhaled a deep breath, staring beyond the porch. “Do you remember what that’s called?” 

“Nah.” Daryl shook his head. “Jus’ called it rain.” 

You grinned. “Well, regardless. I always liked it.”

He watched the rain come down. It soaked the fallen leaves and dampened the soil. The breeze was slow, weaving its way through dripping trees. The roof was a weak material, something cheap and old, and echoed a low patter of rain. It made everything feel softer. Muted. 

“Me too.” 

You glanced over your shoulder, that grin slipping into a tender smile, kind and sweet. Daryl met your look, felt that bloom of familiarity in his chest, and gestured you to come back in. The cold would become bitter again and inside was warm, so you followed. 

He sat by the fire, arms wrapped around bent knees. He’d peeled off his vest, then his flannel, and finally pulled down the left sleeve of his shirt. Just like the first day you checked his wound. You sat behind him, a small pillow under your knees and the freshly boiled rags sitting in a clean bowl to your left. 

That little routine the two of you had fallen into— you’d come back to Daryl, who’d help deal with whatever you scavenged that morning, before you cleaned his wound, then ate— came easy. He’d gotten less tense every time you had to face his bare shoulder again. Which was frequent, unfortunately, since the exit wound had proved more troublesome than the smaller entrance. 

That heavy pit in your gut at the thought of those scars and their cruelty hadn’t alleviated much though. 

“How’s it feeling today?” 

“Better.” 

You nodded and unwrapped the bandage. The fever had been the height of that infection that hit him a few days ago. During the worst of it, his wound had swelled and reddened, leaking a trail of puss that reminded you why you could have never been a nurse like your brother. Today, the swelling was gone and the redness cleared. It was improving.

“It looks better, too.” 

“About time,” Daryl huffed. 

On the other hand, his attitude hadn’t improved. 

You sighed, “It’s only been a couple of days.” 

“’S been a week.” 

“You were shot.” You passed the rag along the few dried bits of puss, careful to leave the growing scab undisturbed. “It takes a while to heal from that.” 

“We don’t got a while.”

“I know.” Your jaw tightened.

Daryl was becoming more agitated with his rest as the days dragged on. Cabin fever, maybe. It must’ve been especially bothersome for a man like him, someone who seemed to feel more comfortable in the woods than four walls and a roof, to be trapped here. Especially when neither of you had forgotten the whole point of running house to house in the first place— finding his friends. 

“But we agreed. You need to let this heal as long as it can before we leave.” 

“Trail could’a gone cold by now.” 

Even with your eyes on the back of his neck, drifting down the outgrown strands of dark brown hair reaching to the cuff of his shirt, you could almost see him chewing his lip. It turned out that Daryl’s unease had become mixed up with yours some time ago. By now you could feel that stiffness in his muscles, as if it was in you, too. 

“It could’ve.” You dropped the last strip of clean cloth back into the bowl. “It could be fine, too.”

Daryl glanced back at you over his shoulder. It made you freeze— he hadn’t offered any attention other than the small talk you shared while you patched him up. Not until now, when those narrow blue eyes burned into you, demanding your attention. 

It was almost instinctual, that warm smile you offered. Still, you were sure he could notice that somber look in your eye. The one that remembered the fear and urgency you felt while in pursuit of your brother— before it ended the way it did. 

He seemed to notice every hint of emotion that slipped past your grip. 

“Dwelling on it won’t help us find them any faster,” you said. 

You glanced over his expression, almost leisurely in your inspection. His lips were parted slightly, jaw slack. Though he wasn’t angry, there was a heaviness in the pretty blue of his eyes. Lately, you were realizing that might be permanent. 

While it was sweet, your smile didn’t do much to soothe his urgency or frustration. He turned back. 

“I can’t keep doin’ nothin’.” 

You swallowed, bandaging a clean strip of cloth around his shoulder as the tone shifted. 

“Four days ago you could barely get out of bed.” you firmly stated. “And two days ago, you could barely lift your bow.” 

“‘M fine now,” he snapped. 

“You’re still healing.” 

“Yeah, well, I don’t care.” 

The cloth reached its end and you paused. Going in circles with him was exhausting. It made your stomach flutter with anxiety, too. This routine the two of you had fallen into, something idle and restful, was comfortable. He was comfortable. 

Maybe even a friend. 

“Well, I do,” you replied. “I guess I like you too much to risk you getting hurt worse.” 

Daryl glanced at you from the corner of his eye. Subtle enough that you almost hadn’t noticed. 

“Thought we didn’t have to like each other,” he retorted in a lighter tone from his previous. 

“It makes things a lot easier, don’t you think?” You smirked. “And if you can’t aim that bow, you’re kinda stuck with me anyway.” 

You, like anyone else nowadays, knew what it was like to lose a friend. You certainly didn’t want to lose Daryl— whatever it was you had with him— from perhaps a curse of your own overprotectiveness. It was hard to let someone go back into that dangerous world after you learned how bright their blood ran, but this thing you two shared was fragile. Trusting. If Daryl said he was ready, you had to be willing to give him a chance. 

So, with a cautionary glance at his new bandage, you gave in an inch. 

“One more day.”

His mouth opened, but you snapped before he could, “It's bad enough we’re leaving while you’re still hurt. I’m not doing it in the middle of a storm, either.” 

The rest of the day Daryl was still tense. Emotionally, at least. He practiced picking up his crossbow, balancing the weight in his hands. You packed both bags, boiled and bottled all the water you could carry, and hoped this was the right thing to do. The rain didn’t let up until long past sunset. 

When morning finally came and the sun broke through grey clouds, you followed through on your word. Backpacks stuffed full, your boots landed across that empty road and the two of you finally left that little house for good.

-> part 8

A/N: slower part, but I think they need that right now. it can't all be fighting and running and shooting and blah blah. I love these little interactions between them as they grow closer <3 I hope u do too!

if you’re reading this, thank you! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. please feel free to leave feedback, it helps so much and I love to read it. have a lovely day <3

[thevegandarkelf]

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Thirty-Four

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Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, panic attacks, mention of scars, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death, PTSD

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing, discussion of scars

Word count: 5.9k

Daryl and I had our coffee together, and shared plenty more kisses, before he had to go relieve the overnight person from watch. I tried to return his vest to him, but he insisted on me wearing it for the day. Wanted me to “show these pricks what’s up” and “it looked better on me, so I should be the one wearing it anyway.” After he went and got changed, I met him at the front door, brushing his dark hair out of his eyes and fixing it so it looked a little less crazy.

“Gonna be hard bein’ away from ya all day after that,” Daryl said as he snaked his arms around my waist. I tugged him by the collar of his button-up and pulled him in for another kiss, this one a bit longer than the others.

“Will that hold you over ’til later?” I asked, dropping my eyes to the floor and blushing heavily. With the amount of time I’d spent blushing since I first walked through the front gates months ago, my cheeks might as well have just permanently stayed pink. He gave me another few soft, quick pecks before pulling me close for a hug.

“Now it will,” he replied. I couldn’t see his face, but I could hear the smile in his voice.

“Try not to miss me too much,” I joked, giving him a flirtatious wink as he went out the door. He should’ve been the one saying that to me. I was already aching to be back in his arms.

There was an extra pep in my step as I bounded upstairs to get dressed. Before my series of very fortunate events, I planned on just wearing a regular pair of shorts and a t-shirt with Daryl’s jacket. But now, especially knowing he had some kind of surprise planned for later, I decided to wear the beautiful sundress he’d gotten me all those weeks ago, back when we hardly knew each other. I put his vest over top of it and looked at myself in the mirror. I was glowing, the smile on my face stretching from ear to ear. I was a giggling mess as I went back downstairs, taking some deep breaths to regain my composure before stepping outside.

The leaves had almost fully changed colors now, beautiful shades of red and orange creating a stunning visual, the branches swaying in the gentle breeze. The sun had almost completely peaked over the horizon, and there were hardly any clouds in the sky. Lights were starting to come on in people’s homes as everyone began to awaken and get ready for the day. Alexandria was like a painting.

I promised Aaron I’d stop by and help him practice walking before spending my day in the infirmary. My plan was to hang out in there all day, and I’d let everyone know to just stop by if they needed anything. And I of course encouraged my friends to come by if they wanted to chat. I softly knocked on the front door, hoping they were awake and I wasn’t disturbing anyone’s sleep. After a few moments, Aaron answered the door, the scent of whatever he or Eric had been cooking wafting out.

“Mornin’,” I greeted in a sing-song voice.

“Well you’re awfully cheery this morning,” Aaron acknowledged, “I’m ready when you are. Figured we could walk circles around the community for a bit if that’s good with you.”

“Actually, could we maybe…go to the infirmary?’ I asked, gesturing to it over my shoulder.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Aaron replied, looking puzzled, “do you need to check something?” I shook my head.

“No. I, umm, I need to talk to you. We can walk after, I promise,” I explained, practically stumbling over my words. My pink cheeks were quickly turning red. His eyes wandered down and grew wide when he realized what I was wearing, and a big, silly smile spread across his face.

“Ok, yeah. Yeah, we can go,” he agreed. He put his shoe on his good foot and came outside, taking my arm to balance as he closed the door behind him.

Once we got to the infirmary, I shut and locked the door. Everyone knew that when the door was locked, it meant I was with someone & to come back later. Y’know, doctor-patient confidentiality and all that.

“So I think I have…an idea as to what you wanna talk about, but what is it?” Aaron asked. I laid down on one of the infirmary tables, my arms folded across my stomach, and Aaron took a seat on the other one.

“It finally happened,” I said, unable to suppress the giggles any longer and gently kicking my feet on the table, “he asked if he could kiss me.” I could see Aaron’s goofy grin in my peripheral.

“And what did you say?” he asked, joy slipping into his voice. He knew damn well what the answer was.

“Dude, what do you think I said?” I responded, biting my lip to prevent myself from squealing with joy.

“Aah, that’s awesome!” he gushed, “I’m so happy for you! How was it?”

“Aaron, it was like a dream,” I said, staring up at the ceiling and smiling big again. I covered my face with my hands, turning blood red as I recollected the events of that morning. “I’ve been waiting for him to ask for weeks. My knees got so weak, I nearly collapsed. God it was…it was amazing. It was electric, it was perfect.”

“So would you say you two are official?” he asked.

“We didn’t talk about that. He’s supposed to be surprising me with something later.” I took my hands off my face and let my arms fall beside me, hanging off the sides of the table. “Maybe he’ll ask me then.”

“You two are joined at the hip,” Aaron said, “you’ve been practically dating for weeks now. He’d be silly not to.”

“I don’t know. He doesn’t seem like the type that’s into labels,” I sighed.

“Doesn’t matter. If he wants to be exclusive with you, he needs to tell you,” Aaron assured. The brotherly tone he used reminded of talking with my own brothers, and it warmed my heart.

“Yeah, you’re right. Oh my god, wait, I have more!” I exclaimed, throwing myself forward and sitting up on the table, folding my legs to the side. I brushed a hand through my hair to fix the frizzy mess. “So I have these pictures in my notebook. Most of them are of me with my family and friends, except for this one, which is a picture of me from a Renaissance festival in this beautiful blue gown. I look stunning in it, I won’t lie. Anyway, I showed them to Daryl weeks ago, and he dropped them all over the floor before giving them back to me. Well turns out, that was a clever little plan he concocted to steal the photo of me, and he’s been carrying it around in his vest this whole time.” I buried my face in my hands again, and adoration, joy, and giddiness swelled in my chest. It was so cute, it almost made me sick. “He fucking takes a picture of me out on the road with him!”

“Oh he’s in love with you,” Aaron gushed, that big, goofy smile returning to his face, “a hundred percent.”

“I think we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves now,” I said, “if he is, I don’t think he’s going to reveal that right away.”

Aaron and I took a few long, slow laps around the community, him using my shoulder or arm to balance himself as he walked. He’d been making great progress in terms of being able to walk on his prosthetic. He was still using the cane a lot of the time but had been practicing walking around his house without it. I was proud of him, both for his determination and the progress he was making.

After I got Aaron home, I spent the day in the infirmary. Rick came by at one point, and while he didn’t make a comment about me wearing Daryl’s vest, I knew he saw it based on the face he made. Other than a few people coming in, I was mostly doing some writing and rummaging through some old stuff I’d found that I somehow missed during my initial deep clean weeks ago. And to my surprise, I found a white coat tucked away in an old bin. It was blank, with no name stitched above the pocket. I was going to have to take it home and customize it. I never received my long white coat, so to find one filled me with an excitement that I couldn’t put into words.

After a long period of my head buried in my notebook, I looked out the window. The sun was starting to go down, and since I told everyone that I would be available until it started to get dark, I started to pack up my backpack. As I slung it over my shoulder, the rusty door creaked open, and Rosita came skipping in.

“Hi,” she greeted, “I don’t need anything. I just wanted to say hey. Are you going home now?”

“Hey girly,” I replied, “yeah, I was going to. If you want to stay and chat for a bit, I’m down.”

“No, it’s ok. I was going to go home anyway. I just wanted to stop by for a moment.” Her eyes wandered down to Daryl’s vest, and she lit up. “Umm, hey Vector…what’s that you’re wearing?” she asked, gesturing to my attire.

“What does it look like I’m wearing?” I sassed, biting the inside of my lower lip to contain my giddiness.

“Do you have an update to share?” she inquired.

“Maybe.” I let out a series of soft giggles and averted my eyes from hers as I started blushing. “This morning, he, umm, asked if he could kiss me,”

“Aah!” Rosita squealed, running over and throwing her arms around me for a hug, “finally! How did he do it? Tell me everything!”

In order for the context of the kiss to make sense, I had to explain the question I initially asked Daryl, and that would require explaining what happened a few days ago, which I didn’t want to get into. “He just asked me this morning. I got up before him, I was drinking coffee downstairs, he came down, and he asked. And holy shit, it was fucking magical.”

“Took him long enough,” she said, “I’m happy for you, dude. That’s so exciting!”

“Thanks.” I bounced my leg anxiously and looked past her to the door for a moment before looking back at her. “Could you do me a favor? Can you go see if Daryl’s home?” I requested, “he told me to not get home before he did.”

“Why’d he say that?”

“He has a surprise of some kind. Told me not to get home before him so I wouldn’t ruin it.”

“Like a…like a bedroom surprise?” she teased. It was like she was more excited for me to sleep with Daryl than I was. Rosita wasn’t aware of my history, so I couldn’t blame her for assuming that was the direction tonight could be going in. But I knew it wasn’t, and that’s exactly how I wanted it.

“Rosita, please,” I sighed, “could you just go check?”

“Ok ok, fine,” she said, holding her hands in the air as she walked over to and out the door.

I tapped my foot on the ground anxiously. The minutes she was gone felt like hours. She threw the door open when she returned, causing it to slam into the wall and startle me.

“He’s back,” she explained, and I let out a sigh that was both one of relief and nervous energy.

“Alright, I guess I’ll go home now,” I sighed, grabbing my bag once again and slinging it over my shoulders, taking the white coat I’d found and doing the same.

“You’ll have to tell me what happens,” she requested as she led us to the infirmary door and opened it for me.

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” I said, discreetly scratching at the side of my thumb with my index finger. Rosita stopped me and stood in front of me, putting her hands on my shoulders.

“You’re gonna be fine,” she reassured, giving me another hug, “you got this.”

“Thanks. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

I rubbed my arms as I walked back home, the cool October air nipping at my skin as the sun continued to set. Porch lights were coming on, and people were gathering in their homes for dinner. The door was unlocked, as it usually was, and I kicked my boots off and set my bag on the ground next to me.

“Hey Daryl, come look what I found,” I called out, taking his vest off and resting it on top of my backpack. I slipped the white coat on, the familiar feeling of that cotton-polyester blend on my skin soothing my anxiety like a blanket of comfort. It was a bit big on me, but not too bad. Better than it being too small, I suppose. The sleeves were a little long, and it hugged my body just a hair, which I was happy with. Happy tears welled in my eyes as I started to get emotional. Since the world had fallen before I completed my residency, I didn’t think I would see the day I got my long white coat. I just wished my family had been there to see me. Daryl came out from around the corner upstairs, probably from in his room.

“Well, look at that.” He wrapped his arms around my waist and picked me up, bringing me to eye-level and kissing me like it had been months since we’d seen each other, “ya became a princess after all."

It took a moment for me to understand what he was talking about, but then it clicked. The story about what made me first want to become a doctor, with the lady in the floral dress and the white coat who saved my brother’s life, who little 3-year-old me asked if she was a princess, and she said yes…I’d become the princess little me had dreamed of being.

“Well hello to you too,” I greeted, blushing and kicking my feet.

“How was ya day, sunshine?” he asked, giving me a kiss on the cheek.

“Not bad. Helped Aaron with his walking, saw some people,” I explained. I ran my fingers up the back of his neck and into his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. “How was yours?”

“Borin’ as hell, which I guess is good. Coulda been worse. Been thinkin’ ‘bout ya all day. Was excited to get back.”

“Likewise.”

“Now c’mon, got something to show ya,” Daryl said as he set me back down, “g’on out back. I’ll be there in a sec.”

I took off my white coat and tossed it onto my backpack. I couldn’t be bothered to put my boots back on. I skipped out the front door and around the side of the house, the soft grass tickling my ankles. In all my time here, I’d never actually spent any time in the backyard. I preferred to be around Daryl or my friends, but when I did have alone time, I liked to stay in bed. After not having a bed for a year and a half, I wasn’t taking the one that I finally got for granted.

The backyard didn’t have anything in it, just a stretch of grass that led to some small trees. My blanket was laid out on the ground, and there was something small in the center. As I approached it, I realized that the small item was a glass mason jar filled with daisies.

I for sure thought my heart was going to explode.

I sat down on the blanket and took the jar in my hand, tapping my fingers on the glass. I caressed the soft petals with my fingers, careful not to tug on them so I didn’t pull them off on accident. I brought the jar to my nose and breathed in deeply, taking in the comforting scent the little flowers emitted. The scent of daisies was one of my favorites. A few minutes later, Daryl came around the side of the house and joined me on the blanket.

“Ya like ‘em?” he asked as he sat down next to me, scooting closer to close the space between us.

“Are you kidding? I love them,” I gushed, “this is so sweet of you.”

“Got somethin’ else for ya too,” he said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out some pieces of cloth, “put ya hands out.”

I looked at him, confused, but did as he instructed, setting the jar down and putting my hands out in front of me. He took one of the pieces and slipped it over my hand onto my wrist, then did the same with the other. They were little wristbands, made out of one of Daryl’s old bandanas that I often saw him use when he would work on his bike.

“Had Carol make ‘em,” he explained as he adjusted the one on my right wrist, “now ya don’t gotta look at ‘em all the time.”

He had wristbands made for me, out of one of his own bandanas, so that I wouldn’t have to look at my scars all day. That had to be the nicest thing anyone had ever done for me. In an instant, I was overcome with emotion, and I buried my face in my hands and started crying.

“Hey, are ya ok? Didn’t mean to make ya cry,” he soothed. He snaked an arm around my back and rested his hand on my hip, kissing me on the cheek.

“They’re happy tears,” I assured, taking off my glasses and rubbing my eyes with my fists, “it’s just so sweet, I’m so overwhelmed, but with happy feelings. Thank you. I love them. Seriously Daryl, you're incredible.” I wiped my cheeks with my hands, the tears still flowing freely, laughing softly. “God, I’m such a crybaby.”

“Just got a lotta emotions,” Daryl said as he used his sleeve to wipe tears from my cheek, “ain’t nothin’ wrong with that.”

A lightbulb flickered on in my head, and I had an idea. “I actually have something for you too,” I said before slipping my glasses back on. I gave him a kiss on the cheek before skipping back inside, grabbing my notebook and coming back to join him on the blanket.

“A few weeks ago, you asked if you could read something of mine. Well, this is why I never let you read anything,” I explained as I flipped through to find the page I was looking for, “practically everything before I arrived here is about…what happened. Everything from the last couple of months…is mostly about you.” It had gotten dark at this point, and while I hoped the lights inside would be enough for him to see, I hoped it was dark enough to conceal my flushed cheeks.

“Ya write ‘bout me that much?” he wondered.

“I’ve been writing about you since the day I got here. If I showed you how much there actually is about you in here, you might laugh at me,” I replied, continuing to rifle through the pages to find the exact one I was looking for. If I had thought of it ahead of time, I would’ve bookmarked it for easier access. But allowing Daryl to read a piece of my work about him was more of a last-minute decision.

“Nah, it’s cute,” he admired. I could see him watching me in my peripheral, meticulously eyeing every move I made.

“Here,” I said, holding it out to him, “I picked something for you to read.” He took my notebook, brushing his hand against mine as he did. “It’s a bit of a long one, but I think you’ll like it.”

I don’t think he’d ever say it, but I knew based on the look on his face that he was excited to finally be getting a peek at this notebook I spent so much of my time buried in. I watched his eyes scan over every word, the anxiety in the pit of my stomach beginning to make its way up the further he got.

Hi everyone,

So I made it to this community called Alexandria, and I met this guy. His name is Daryl, and I like him. A lot. Here's why I know you all would like him too.

Mom: He makes me happy, Mom. Like really happy. Like the way I imagine Dad made you feel. You would see him, lean over to me, and tell me you can see the sunshine radiating off him. You'd welcome him into the family with open arms. You'd be impressed with his knowledge of the local flora and show him your garden. You always loved showing people your garden. You'd offer to make him a few day's worth of food, and despite his protests, you'd do it anyway. "Everyone deserves a good home-cooked meal," you'd always say. You never let anyone leave the house without food.

Dad: Daryl is everything you taught my brothers a man should be--a protector, a confidant, a friend, a lover, and a good example. He's kind, compassionate, and sticks up for the little guy. He's a shoulder to cry on when you need one. Daryl's respectful, caring, loyal, and such a sweet soul. He claims not to have a way with words, but that doesn't matter because his actions speak for him. He doesn't care about things like what you look like or who you love. He just cares about whether or not you're a good person. He's truly one of the most stand-up people I've ever met. I hope you're out there Dad. I want you to meet him.

Preston: Being the oldest and the most protective of me, I know you'd have your reservations at first, but those would fade quickly. After your big-brother interrogation, you'd fall in love with him too. Sure, you'd let him know that if he ever hurt me, he'd have to deal with your wrath, but that's not something you'd have to worry about, and you'd know that. You'd see how happy he makes me and how well he treats me, and you would know I was safe. You always trusted my judge of character, so you'd know if I was bringing him around you, he'd have to be a good one.

Jay: Oh Jay, you and Daryl would be the best of friends. You'd bond over outdoor activities, maybe even go camping together. You'd have a drink together and take hunting trips and talk while you gutted your kills. Maybe get a little too drunk and share things you'd otherwise not. You had a habit of oversharing when you were drunk. Like Preston, you'd have to interrogate him a little, but you'd be nothing short of impressed. His sense of humor is very similar to yours, and I know you'd love that. You admired strong morals, and while the world has gone to shit, his moral compass hasn't. If you're out there Jay, maybe you'll get to meet him.

Eli: I know it would take you longer to warm up, being the shy one between the four of us. Once you did, you'd adore Daryl. You'd look up to him, see him like a brother. You were always about getting to know people on a deeper level, you sensitive soul, so you'd wanna get to know him and his interests. You'd show him your music and ask him to be your concert buddy when I couldn't go. Your favorite thing, though, would be his loyalty to his family and the people he cares about. You always admired that in people.

Kathryn: Oh bestie, I think this might be the one. Daryl's a gem, a true diamond in the rough. He's every woman's dream man--attentive, romantic (in his own way), an absolute sweetheart, loyal to death, the list goes on. He's the type that, in a normal world, would run out and get me tampons at 3am if I needed them. Not to mention, he's incredibly handsome. He's so hot, dude. Like I almost don't know what to do with myself. He's a bit shy with a hard exterior, but once you crack that wide open, that's when he really shines. You were such an extrovert, so you'd enjoy watching Daryl come out of his shell as you got to know him. But most of all, you'd love how happy I am with him. He makes me really happy, Kathryn. And he makes this scary world a little less scary to be in.

When he was finished, he ran his fingers over the edges of the paper, tapping it lightly. I tilted my head to get a better look at his face. He looked like he was trying to suppress a big, goofy smile, but a little bit of it broke through. The look on his face indicated positive feelings, but his lack of response worried me. What if he hated it and was trying to figure out how to tell me? Or what if he was laughing at it because it was stupid? I didn’t know which was worse.

“So…what do you think?” I asked. The nerves and anxiety were obvious in the shakiness of my voice.

Rather than responding with words, he set my notebook on the ground in front of him. He looked at me with a longing and adoration I’d never seen before, and he lightly bit his bottom lip. Daryl interlocked his fingers on the nape of my neck, careful not to tug on my hair, and brought his lips to mine. It was fucking electric, the sparks dancing between us causing my lips to tingle. He tenderly massaged the area behind my ears, and I couldn’t stop myself from smiling like an idiot into our kiss. He rested his nose and forehead on mine as he pulled away.

“Does that answer ya question?” he asked.

Sure, we were tucked away in a dark backyard, most of the community in their homes minding their own business, but for Daryl to show this type of affection in a semi-public setting was…riveting.

“Yeah,” I giggled.

“I love it,” he beamed as he continued to massage the sensitive area behind my ears, “thanks for sharin’. Could…could I maybe keep it? Or could ya write one for me?”

“I had a feeling you might ask me that.” I leaned past him to grab my notebook from its spot on the blanket. I tore along the edge, removing the paper from its spiral binding and handing it to him. “Yes, you can keep it.”

“Add it to the collection,” he joked as he folded it up and slipped it into his pocket.

I took my notebook and started to flip back several pages. “Do you wanna hear the very first thing I ever wrote about you?”

“Hell yeah.” He put one arm around my back, the other under my legs, and scooped me up into his lap, crossing his legs. He wrapped his arms around my waist and rested his head on my shoulder. I went back too far and flipped forward a few pages before finding my first entry since arriving at Alexandria. My first entry about Daryl.

“Well, I did it. I finally found Alexandria. No sign of Jay though. Hopefully that means he traveled south to Florida to find Dad. But there’s someone else here. When I showed up at the gates with the man whose foot I’d hacked off on my shoulder, I was knocked out and woke up in a little cell. There was a man with a crossbow aimed at me, but that wasn’t the first thing I noticed about him. The first thing I noticed was his voice. It’s—“ I paused, chuckling and blushing a little as I read ahead. “God, did I really write that? Anyway, it’s nice and gravely, and I like it. A lot. The way he called me sunshine gave me butterflies. Then I noticed how handsome he was. Surely someone that gorgeous had to be off the market, but I guess he’s a free man. His name’s Daryl, and we’re sharing a house. I don’t think he likes me all that much. Hopefully, he’ll eventually be able to at least tolerate me.”

“Definitely more than just toleratin’ ya now.” He was drawing small shapes up and down my spine with his fingers, switching between circles and swirls and shapes that I was now certain were hearts. “When ya got here, definitely thought ya’s married.”

“Why’d you think that?” I asked, confusion lacing my voice, “I never had a ring on or anything.”

“Have ya looked at yourself? Any man’d be crazy not to wife ya up.”

“Said the same thing about you,” I echoed, holding my notebook up and flashing the entry I’d just read him before tossing it on the blanket next to me. “What did you want to show me?”

“Look up,” Daryl said as he craned his head to the sky. I mimicked him, tilting my head up as well.

It was almost pitch black now, the only light coming from the ones on in our house and the ones next to us, and there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky, giving the stars a chance to, for lack of a better phrasing, really shine. The sky was decorated with them, each one twinkling like glitter. Growing up in a small town, I spent lots of nights in our backyard, staring up at a cloudless sky filled with stars. After moving to a big city for medical school, those nights became few and far between, and they were an experience I savored when I visited my hometown. After the world fell, my sole focus, like everyone else’s, was survival, so I never bothered to take a moment to appreciate the scenery of wherever I was. But now, I was in a walled-in community, and it was safe enough to kick back and look at the stars.

“Whoa.” It came out as a soft, breathy whisper. I was in complete awe, hardly able to speak. Funny to see ya speechless since ya talk so damn much, Daryl would probably say.

“North star’s up there,” he explained, pointing up to a particularly bright little star, “little dipper comes off it. Follow it down—“ he drew an invisible line with his finger as he pointed from one star to another “—and ya get the big dipper.”

“It’s like us.” I was smiling big, and despite not looking at Daryl’s face, I knew he was looking at me with a confused expression on it. “Y’know, like big spoon, little spoon. One of these nights, I’m gonna treat you to being the little spoon. Trust me, you’ll love it.”

There was silence between us for a bit as we admired the stunning sight above. It was like someone had taken fairy dust and sprinkled it across the sky, each little flicker of a twinkling star causing my eyes to dart around to keep up. I was in awe.

Of course, I couldn’t look up at a night sky full of stars without thinking about my dad. It comforted me to know that, if he was alive, whether that was up in space or down here on Earth, we were looking at the same view. Daryl’s beautiful voice pulled me from my dissociation.

“Hey Lydia?” My name sounded so sweet when it dripped off his lips like that. “As much as I like watchin’ ya get all excited ‘bout the stars, ain’t the only reason I brought ya out here. There’s somethin’ I wanna ask ya.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” I wondered. Like I didn’t know exactly what he was about to ask me.

He shifted a bit, putting his hands on the ground behind him to lean back and balance himself. It was difficult to make out his facial features with how dark it was, but it looked like he was biting his lip anxiously. If he was going to ask what I thought he was going to ask, he had nothing to be anxious about. I’d never heard Daryl’s voice shake when he talked, unless it was shaking in anger, but he was nervous, and it was obvious in his voice. “Was wonderin’ how ya’d feel if I…if I started callin’ ya my woman.”

I was over the goddamn moon.

“Daryl, my sweet, are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”

He shifted more, and the anxiety radiating off of him was palpable. “Guess I am.”

Every ounce of joy, excitement, giddiness, enthusiasm, and happiness my body was capable of experiencing flowed through my veins, replacing every drop of blood, all of which was gathering in my cheeks. My heart rate skyrocketed, and I could practically feel my pupils dilating. I was grinning ear-to-ear so hard that my jaw was already beginning to ache. Every square inch of my skin was tingling in the most magical way.

I leaned into Daryl, our lips colliding before I could even close my eyes. My hands wandered up the back of his neck and into his hair, delicately twirling those dark chocolate locks around in my fingers. My big, silly smile broke through, causing me to laugh into our kiss and elicit a little smile from him in return.

Every kiss with Daryl was nothing short of absolute magic.

“Does that answer your question?” I replied, tickling the tip of his nose with mine.

The excitement and happiness were quickly overshadowed by anxiety, the butterflies in my stomach being swallowed whole by intense feelings of guilt. All I could think about was the one thing I might not be able to do for him, or if I could, not for a long time. I bit the inside of my lower lip and looked down, hanging my head in shame as my arms fell around his neck. “I, umm, I just have some…concerns. Regarding…uh…”

My voice trailed off, and I couldn’t even form the words. Sex, Lydia, just say it, I thought, you’re a doctor, just say it. Thankfully, I didn’t have to worry for long, as Daryl seemed to know the exact direction I was going in.

“Hey.” He had the softest, most reassuring tone to his voice. He took my face in his hand, stroking my cheekbone with his thumb and doing that thing with his eyes again, where he looked deep into my soul, past all of the trauma and the bullshit. It made me weak in the knees in the best way. “Take all the time ya need. Ain’t goin’ nowhere just ‘cause of that.”

Not that I thought he would, but it was nice to be reassured anyway. And coming from someone as honest as Daryl, I knew it was true.

“Remember the other night when we were talkin’ ‘bout rememberin’ things the other person said?” he asked, and I nodded, “I remember when ya’s pukin’ after drinkin’ too much and said ya could kiss me at that moment.” It may have been dark, but I was blushing so hard, I was confident my cheeks were glowing & he could see it.

“Damn,” I sighed, “was hoping you’d forgotten about that.”

“The first time ya talked ‘bout wantin’ to kiss me? Ain’t never forgettin’ that,” he cooed, pulling me in for another long, tender smooch.

Taglist: @raddydaddydude @lovenormandixon @angeldemoncrowley

[scarisd3ad]

To the end and back [daryl Dixon x reader]

Chapter two - right where you left me

Masterlist

Taglist

Summary - after the world ended you were sure you’d never find love again but a certain archer catches your eyes and changes the entire trajectory of your life.

Warnings - regular twd warnings

Previous >> next

Season 1 ep 3

'Tell it to the frog'

Edited

We all sat around waiting for the others to return from their supply run to Atlanta. Glenn, Merle, Morales, Andrea, Jacqui, and T dog had gone on a supply run while Daryl had gone hunting. I sat talking to Lori and Shane as Lori cut Carl's hair and Shane cleaned his rifle. Carl isn't pleased about his haircut. He fidgets around and has a pout on his face the entire time. "Baby, the more you fidget, the longer it takes, so don't, okay?" Lori says as she combs out her son's hair, snipping little pieces at once. "I'm trying." Carl whines. "Well, try harder." Lori says, trying to focus on Carl's haircut. I laugh. Carl must've not had a haircut since before the outbreak because he was beginning to grow a little mullet. "If you think this is bad, wait till you start shaving. That stings." Shane laughs. "That day comes; you'll be wishing for one of your mama's haircuts." Shane says as he inspects his gun.

"I'll believe that when I see it" Carl says, making Shane and I chuckle. "I'll tell you what... you just get through this with some manly dignity, and tomorrow, I'll teach you something special. I will teach you to catch frogs." Shane says as he's taking apart his rifle. Lori smiles as she continues to cut Carl's hair. "I've caught a frog before," Carl states as he turns a bit, causing Lori to readjust his head. "I said frogs' plural, and it is an art, my friend. It is not to be taken lightly. There are ways and means. Few people know about it." I remember catching frogs on my grandfather's farm as a young kid. I'd take them back to my grandma and grandpa. Grandpa would be proud, but Grandma was always so disgusted by them. She hated that Grandpa would cook them up and eat them. "I'm willing to share my secrets."

Carl looks back at his mom, brows furrowed. "Oh, I'm a girl. You talk to him." Lori says, turning her son's head back towards Shane. "I used to catch frogs," I say. Carl turns his head towards me, brows furrowed again. "You did?" He asks. Lori turns Carls head straight again. "Yep, on my grandpa's farm when I was your age with my brother." Shane raised his eyebrows. "Brother? you have a brother?" Carl asks. I nod. "had a brother," I correct. Matthew, my little brother, was 2 years younger than me; he had dirty blonde hair as he got older and bright blue eyes that will be ingrained in my memories forever. He died 1 day into the outbreak. I miss him every day I go on without him. I wish he'd met these people because he'd love them. "My grandpa used to cook them up on Sunday nights."

"Why'd he cook them?" Carl asks, face contorting in confusion. "You never eat frog legs?" Shane asks. "Eww!" Carl says, his face contorting from confusion into a disgusted look. "No, yum!" Shane corrects as he leans back in his chair a bit. "No, he's right. Eww," Lori contradicts, "they're actually really good, Carl" I say as I fold my arms over my chest. Every day I wake up, I find these people becoming more and more like family than my actual one ever was to me. "You see, she knows what I'm talkin' bout!" Shane says, pointing towards me, which makes me laugh. Lori scrunches up her face in disgust. "When we get down to that last can of beans, you're gonna be loving those frog legs, lady. I can see it now 'Shane, do you think I could have a second helping, please? Ju..just one?'" Shane says, dropping his country accent to imitate Lori. "Yeah, I doubt that." Lori says with an eye roll as both she and Shane laugh.

I turn to see Amy; she's worried about her sister. She should've been back hours ago, but they aren't yet. Dale is standing on top of his RV with a pair of binoculars, just looking out at the road. "I'm..I'm gonna go check in on Amy," I say as I stand up.

Amy is sitting in a chair under the awning of Dale's RV. "You alright, Am's?" I ask she nods slowly. Her arms are crossed over her chest as she mumbles, "They should've been back hours ago." "I'm sure they'r-" I'm cut off by a car alarm blaring. Amy jumps up, and so does Shane. "Talk to me, Dale!" He shouts as he runs towards the RV.

"I can't tell yet," Dale says before looking through his binoculars. "Is it them? Are they back?" Amy asks. "I'll be damned," Dale mutters as we watch a bright red car drive towards our camp. That car is shouting up a storm, probably drawing every Walker in at least a mile's radius towards us. "What is it?" Amy asks.

"A stolen car is my guess."

Lori has her arm wrapped around Carl and one above her eyes, shielding her eyes from the sun. The car pulls in, and we all run towards it. Out comes Glenn. Such a dumbass. I roll my eyes because that boy always seems to do the stupidest goddamn shit. "Holy crap. Turn that damn thing off!" Dale shouts. "I don't know how!" Glenn says with a shrug and the biggest goddamn smile on his face. I run over, pulling him into a hug. I can't lie and say I haven't been a big bag of nerves since he left because I have, but hugging him always makes me feel better.

"Pop the hood, please. Pop the damn hood, please." Shane says, patting the hood of the car harshly.

I let go of Glenn as Amy runs up. "My sister, Andrea-" she's cut off by Shane shouting, "Pop the damn hood!" and him banging on the hood a bit harder. Shane is very upfront with his role as a leader. He's strong, demanding, and the type of person everyone tends to hate, but I've found it easy to get along with him most of the time. He can be an asshole sometimes, but ever since he promised to keep me safe, I've found it easy to understand why he does what he does.

"What, okay, okay. Yeah, yeah, yeah," Glenn says, retreating back into his car. Amy is still right at Glenn's side, asking about Andrea. Glenn pops the hood, and Shane gets to work on the vehicle. "Is she okay? Is she all right?" Amy asks, demanding an answer from Glenn as he gets out of the car again. "She's okay! She's okay!" Glenn shouts. Amy's brows furrow, but she does let out a tiny sigh of relief as she asks, "Is she coming back?"

"Yes!"

Amy goes right back into panic mode. "Why isn't she with you? Where is she? Is She okay?" Amy continues to interrogate Glenn, "Yes! Fine. Everybody is." Almost everyone lets out a relieved sigh. We had been knotted up in webs of anxiety all day. "Well, Merle, not so much." No one really worried much about Merle. He could be loud, never listened to anyone, and was obnoxious at times, especially when he was mad. It'd be good to get rid of him. "Are you crazy, drivin' this wailin' bastard up here? You tryin' to draw every Walker for miles?" Shane scolds Glenn as he stands with both hands set on the car's hood. The car was a stupid thing to do; it could've drawn every person and Walker to our location. "I think we're okay," Dale says quietly. "You call being stupid, okay?" Shane argues. Glenn finally turns to me, wrapping his arms around me. "M'glad you're alright," I whisper as I wrap my arms around his neck. he sighs as I lean my head onto his shoulder.

"Well, the alarm was echoing all over these hills. Hard to pinpoint the source," Dale explains. Shane turns around with both hands on his hips, giving Dale a look that tells everyone, 'Don't argue with me.' "I'm not arguing. I'm just saying," Dale says with a shrug. It's almost like Dale can read everyone's expressions because I don't think most people could read Shane like that. "It wouldn't hurt you to think things through a little more carefully next time, would it?" Dale says, raising his voice a bit at Glenn. Glenn lets go of me and says, "Sorry. Got a cool car." with a shrug. I roll my eyes. It's weird, we're going through the zombie fucking apocalypse, and Glenn can still be the sweetest, funniest, happiest man I've ever met.

A large moving truck pulls in next, making everyone focus on it instead of Glenn. Morales steps out first and then Andrea from the back. "Amy," Andrea says as she runs towards her sister. "Andrea!" Amy cries out. The sisters embrace tightly.

"You scared the shit out of me." Amy cries with a little laugh. Morales's kids are running towards their father. "Papi! Daddy!" They cry out as they embrace their father. We all watch the lovely moments between family members. It hurts a bit to us members of the group who've lost family members along the way, but it's nice to see how happy they get. The closest person to a family I have in the group is Glenn. I get so excited to see his face after he goes out in the city. We never know if it's the last time we'll see each other; one day, they could go out and never return. Glenn wraps his arm around my shoulder and whispers, "Got you something while we were out; I'll show you later."

"You are a welcome sight. I thought we had lost you folks for sure." Dale says as he embraces Morales. "How'd y'all get out of there anyway?" Shane speaks up. Morales looks back to the moving truck before saying, "New guy...he got us out." I furrow my brows. I was pretty sure we were the last people alive; we hadn't seen other people since the early days of the outbreak. "New guy?" Shane asks with his brows furrowed together.

"Yeah, crazy Vato just got into town." Morales says as he turns to the moving truck and hollers, "Hey, helicopter boy! Come say hello!"

Out comes a slim brunette man in a police uniform. He's got both hands on his hips as he walks up a few inches. "The guys a cop like you." Morales tells Shane. The guy looks out of breath as he looks over the group. He points towards Lori and Carl before whispering, "Oh my god." And speed walking towards Carl, who's now running towards him. "Dad! Dad!" Carl cries out. The guy kneels down as Carl runs into his arms. Lori is just behind him. Both boys fall to the ground hugging. I'm just now realizing this is Lori's husband, the dead husband Shane had told me about. Lori wasn't one to talk much about him, but Shane and Carl talked about him a lot, mostly reminiscing. Shane talked about how they worked together in the force, and he died at the beginning of the outbreak, but that man wasn't dead. He picks up his son and walks towards Lori. Lori hugs him. She's in disbelief. Then Lori looked up at Shane with the most betrayed facial expression I'd ever seen. I learned from Lori that her husband got shot and went into a coma. Shane told her he died in the hospital. But obviously, he's not dead. He's right here in front of us. I understand that it could've been an accident; he might've not even heard a heartbeat, but the look on Shane's face tells me otherwise.

-

We're all sat around the fire, listening to who I've learned to be Rick tells us how he miraculously woke up and survived. I've got my head in Glenn's lap, and his left arm wrapped around me. "Disoriented. I guess that comes closest. Disoriented." Carl is laying in Rick's lap, and Lori sits beside them. "Fear, confusion..all those things, but..disoriented comes closest." Thunder is coming from a few miles away, which doesn't worry me much; it just frightens me every time it strikes. "Words can be meager things. Sometimes they fall short," Dale says. Glenn gently caresses my arm with his thumb as Rick says, "I felt like I'd been ripped out of my life and put somewhere else." the crickets provide an excellent background for the silence of the night, so it's not just the dark and the loud groans, and growls of walkers in the city. "For a while, I thought I was trapped in some coma dream, something I might not wake up from ever."

"Mom said you died." Carl says quietly. Lori looks at her husband worriedly, like he'd be mad if she told their son that, but he doesn't seem upset. "She had every reason to believe that. Don't you ever doubt it." Rick places his hand on his son's cheek, caressing it lightly, while Lori's hand gently pushes her son's hair back. "When things started to get really bad, they told me at the hospital that they were gonna medevac you and the other patients to Atlanta..." she pauses for a second before continuing, "...and it never happened."

"Well, I'm not surprised after Atlanta fell." Lori nods, whispering "yeah"

"And from the look of that hospital, it got overrun." Rick adds the last time I was in the city, it was absolutely overrun; no one was alive, and the entire place had been taken over by the dead. "Yeah, looks don't deceive. I barely got them out...you know?" Rick looks at Shane, making direct eye contact. "I can't tell you how grateful I am to you, Shane...I can't begin to express it." Shane doesn't answer. He stares at Rick, unable to answer; he has a guilty look on his face that says more than words could ever. "There go those words falling short again..paltry things. " Dale says with a chuckle. I look up at Glenn, who's staring ahead at the fire, zoned out, but when he notices I'm looking up at him, he grins.

Before all this, I was 2 years into med school, living in a shitty apartment with 2 shitty roommates. I wanted to be a doctor. That was dream ever since I was little. Little me was wise to choose that because now the 2 years of training I did does work out. After all, now I'm the group's "doctor." my knowledge doesn't help with complex issues because I had only been in med school for 2 years, but I'm a pro with the basics.

Lori is cuddled up in Rick's arms but staring at Shane with a terrified look. Shane looks mad, maybe jealous even. Ed stands up, throwing another log into the fire.

"Hey, Ed, you want to rethink that log?" We all look at Ed like we're in elementary school again, looking at him like, 'Ooo, you're in trouble'. "It's cold, man." Ed says with his head leaned back before it falls forward a bit. "The cold doesn't change the rules, does it?" Shane says, looking over at Ed. "Keep our fires low, just embers, so we can't be seen from a distance, right?" Shane says just to explain to Rick since his eyebrows are furrowed. "I said it's cold. You should mind your own business for once." Ed argues. It wasn't a good thing to argue with Shane; he's our leader, he makes the rules, and he tells people what to do. If he says no, it means no, that's it. Shane pushes himself to his feet, walks over, and grabs something. I can't really tell what it is. He walks behind Ed, patting him on the back. "Hey, Ed....are sure you want to have this conversation, man?" He asks softly, "Go on. Pull the damn thing out. Go on!"

Carol Ed's wife sits quietly, almost embarrassed of her husband's actions. Finally, she seems fed up with her husband's childish behavior, so she stands up, grabs the log out of the fire, and throws it on the ground. "Christ," Shane mutters. Carol isn't one to really stand up to her husband; I can tell because the look on Ed's face is terrifying. She then walks back around and sits beside her daughter as Shane stomps on the log until it's no longer on fire. Shane kneels down close to Sophia and Carol. "Hey, Carol, Sophia, how are y'all this evening?" He asks.

"Fine. We're just fine." Ed is staring daggers over at his wife. "I'm sorry about the fire." Carol says quietly, almost like she doesn't want her husband to hear. "No, no, no. No apology needed. Y'all have a good night, okay?"

"Thank you," Carol whispers. Sophia looks down at her feet the entire time like she's scared of what her father will do later. "I appreciate the cooperation." Shane stands up and walks back over to his spot. "Have you given any thought to Daryl Dixon? He won't be happy to hear his brother was left behind." Dale says. Daryl wouldn't be happy; he and his brother were the only family they had left. Even though they didn't get along well, he'd be upset.

"I'll tell him. I dropped the key. It's on me." T-dog says quietly. "I cuffed him. That makes it mine." Rick replies. "Guys, it's not a competition. I don't mean to bring race into this, but it might sound better coming from a white guy." Glenn says, his arm still wrapped around me, drawing small circles on my upper arm. The Dixon brothers...well, at least Merle was very racist, and I wouldn't be surprised if Daryl was, too. "I did what I did. Hell, if I'm gonna hide from him."

"We could lie." Amy says from her spot curled up in her sister's arms. "Or tell the truth," Andrea sighs. She's right. We needed to tell Daryl the truth; if we didn't, and he found out we lied, our consequences would be worse. "Merle was out of control. Something had to be done, or he'd have gotten us killed." She was right again; Merle was out of control, and there was never a way to calm him or tell him what to do. Even if Shane tried, he couldn't. Merle was his own boss, and God bless the person who tried to boss him around. "Your husband did what was necessary, and if Merle got left behind, it is nobody's fault but Merle's." Andrea says to Lori. "And that's what we tell Daryl?" Dale asks. I don't think Daryl would just take that as an answer for why we left his brother behind, even if he knew how stubborn his brother was. "I don't see a rational discussion to be had from that, do you?" Dale asks, shaking his head. Dale was a wise older man, like our group's grandfather or even father. He was rational and knew how to survive. People like Shane say that this world wasn't made for Dale, but we'd be dead without Dale. "Word to the wise...we're gonna have our hands full when he gets back from his hunt." We would. Daryl would probably throw a fit and try to hurt someone. He was similar to his brother in expressing his anger through yelling and fists.

"I was scared, and I ran. I'm not ashamed of it," T-dog says with his arms crossed over his chest. "We were all scared. We all ran. What's your point?" Andrea asks. "I stopped long enough to chain that door. Staircase is narrow. Maybe half a dozen geeks can squeeze against it at any one time. It's not enough to break through that..not that chain, not that padlock. My point...my point is..dixon's alive, and he's still up there, handcuffed on that roof. That's on us." T-dog says before getting up and walking away.

"Hey, can I stay in your tent tonight to stay warm?" Glenn whispers just loud enough for me to hear. I nod as I look up at him. I stand up, pushing myself off the ground, and hold my hand out for him to grab. I pull him up, and he wraps his arm around my shoulder. "We're gonna head to bed, goodnight," Glenn says.

We walk towards my tent, his arm still wrapped around me.

He unwraps his arm around me so I can unzip my tent. He gets in first and sits crisscrossed on the far-left side. I get in and then zip the tent back up. I lay down, wrapping myself in blankets, trying to avoid freezing to death. "Do you think this will ever like end?" Glenn asks. I shrug. "I hope so," I whisper. He lays down beside me, propping his head up with his arm. "If this does end, we should get an apartment together." He nods in agreement even though we both know it'll probably never happen. It's so weird. I've only known Glenn for about 2 months, but he knows me better than anyone. It could be because we have so much time to talk. "Where were you before you came here?" I ask in a whispered tone. He lets out a small sigh before saying, "Macon...ended up getting stuck in a pharmacy in Macon with a group of people. they went to some motel, but I ended up leaving to go to Atlanta." I nod before he adds, "They ended up giving me a walkie to keep in touch, but it hasn't worked since I left," he whispers as he lets his head fall onto the pillow. "Do you still have it?" I ask. He nods before reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a small walkie-talkie with stickers on it. I smile as I ask, "Why is it covered in stickers?" with a laugh. "A little girl in the group gave it to me," he says with a small smile. I let out a small sigh as we sat in a comfortable silence together for a few seconds.

"You should go to bed, Glenn," I mumble as I scoot closer to him. "Mhm, I will." I cuddle up next to him, wrapping my arms around his torso. "Don't stay up too late now," I mumble into his chest. "I won't," he says. I can tell he's smiling by the way he says it.

-

I wake up to the sound of birds chirping and the sunlight peering through the sheer fabric of my tent. Glenn's no longer in the tent. He must've gotten up earlier. I push myself off the ground and crawl over to unzip my tent. I get out, zip it back up, and walk over to where the rest of the group is hanging out.

Carol is leaving some clothes out to dry when I walk up to her. "Morning," I say. She gives me a weak smile but replies, "Morning." She washed Rick's clothes. She's a sweet lady, definitely didn't deserve her asshat of a husband.

Glenn is standing, staring at his red car, arms crossed over his chest. Dale and some other guys are striping it clean of gas and anything they need from the vehicle. Glenn's pissed. I walk over to him. "Look at 'em. Vultures." He grumbles. I give him a weak smile as he says, "Yeah, go on, strip it clean." sarcastically. "Generators need every drop of fuel they can get. I have no power without it. Sorry, Glenn," Dale says, patting Glenn's back as he walks by with a gas can. "Thought I'd get to drive it at least a few more days." Glenn mumbles. He's very obviously upset. I wrap an arm around him. "We'll get you another one like it, Glenn," I say, trying to comfort him. He gives me a weak smile. "yeah, maybe."

Glenn and I walk away from the car "are..are you guys gonna try and rescue Merle?" I ask. Glenn shrugs. "It's up to Shane," Glenn says. I nod. I wanted to go. I hadn't been out into the city since the beginning of the outbreak. I wanted to go on a supply run like Andrea got to, but I was never fucking allowed to! I could handle myself. I survived long enough to get here, but Shane was always against it. He always had some lame ass excuse to not let me go. I understood he just wanted to protect me, but if I didn't get experience fighting walkers, I would die if some came stumbling onto our camp.

Shane drives up in his jeep with water. "Waters here, y'all. Just a reminder to boil before use," he says as he exits. A couple of us walk over to Shane's car and help him carry the water jugs. I grab one, but Shane immediately takes it from me. I hate how he sees me as a child incapable of doing things alone.

A blood-curdling scream breaks our attention from the water. "MOM!" Carl screams. Rick and Lori immediately start sprinting towards their son's cries. "DAD!" Carl screams again. "Baby!" Lori yells. Shane is now also flying towards the screams of two children with a shotgun. "MAMA! MOMMY!"

"CARL!" Lori cries out as she's trying to find her child. "CARL! Baby!" Both Sophia and Carl come running out of the forest. Lori falls to her knees with Carl in her arms, examining him, ensuring there are no bites or scratches. "Nothing bit you, nothing scratched you?" Lori says, hugging at her child.

Most of us are also running that way with guns and weapons. "No, I'm okay," Carl says. Both children seem shaken up by whatever they had seen in the woods.

We finally find the Walker that the kids saw. It's in a small clearing surrounded by trees feasting on a dead deer. I scrunch up my nose in disgust. It smells horrible. Walkers smell awful, like shit, and death. It's just pure death. I stand back as the men go ham on the thing. Beating, stabbing it, you name it, they did it. The sound of leaves crunching makes Shane raise his gun.

Amy and Andrea are standing behind me. We're all preparing for the worst: another walker, maybe a horde of them. But then out pops Daryl with his crossbow and about a dozen dead squirrels. Shane lowers his gun but mutters, "Oh, Jesus." In an almost 'oh god, it's him' tone. "Son of a bitch." Daryl curses as he pushes his way through some branches and over some rocks. "That's MY deer!" As Daryl walks towards it, Rick, Morales, and Glenn step away from the deer. "Look at it. All gnawed on by this..." he then began to kick at the Walker.

"..FILTHY.." kick "..DISEASE-BEARING.." kick "..MOTHERLESS.." kick "..POXY BASTARD!"

"Calm down, son, that's not helping," Dale says, not trying to create conflict but to calm the angered man down. Daryl took it as wanting to cause a conflict, though, so he stomps over to Dale, "What do you know about it, old man?! Why don't you take that stupid hat and go back to 'On Golden Pond'!" He shouts before turning back around and walking back towards the deer and Walker.

He sighs as he leans over. "I've been trackin' this deer for miles." He pulls out about three arrows from the deer. "Was gonna drag it back to camp, cook us until some venison." He then pulls out a knife. "What do you think? Do you think we can cut around this chewed-up part right here?" He asks as he leans over the deer and points to the gnawed parts of the deer with his knife. "I would not risk that." Shane replies. The deer looks definitely non-salvageable. Its guts are spilling out and just totally gnawed on. If we tried to eat it, we'd definitely get infected. Daryl sighs. "That's a damn shame." He then turns to the squirrels he has. "I got some squirrels—about a dozen or so. That'll have to do," he sighs.

The Walker's decapitated head then twitches, which is a sight to see. It disgusts Amy, who says, "Oh god." Like she's about to throw up. Andrea then escorts her away from the Walker and probably back to camp. "Come on, people. What the hell?" Daryl says as he shoots the Walker straight in the head. He pulls the arrow out of the Walker. "It's gotta be the brain. Don't y'all know nothin'?" He says with an eye roll. He walks past me, giving me a slight smile.

We follow him as he walks back to camp. "Merle!" He shouts. Everyone's giving each other looks like 'who's gonna tell him?' "Merle! Get your ugly ass out here!" He shouts again. "I got us some squirrel! Let's stew'em up." He says, putting his crossbow down.

Shane decides he will tell him; he is the un-proclaimed group leader, after all. "Daryl, just slow up a bit. I need to talk to you." Shane says. Daryl stops and turns around. "bout what?" He asks, brows furrowed. We're all stopped just a few feet away, watching. We're all crossing our fingers, hoping this won't end badly. "Bout Merle." Shane says as he continues walking past Daryl, "There was a—there was a problem in Atlanta." Shane stops and turns around, putting his hands on his hips. Daryl looks around as we're all kind of gathered around watching. "He dead?" Daryl asks. "We're not sure." As Daryl's brows furrow, Shane replies, "he either is or he ain't!" Rick then steps up and walks over to where Shane and Daryl are. "No easy way to say this, so I'll just say it."

"Who are you?"

"Rick Grimes." Rick replies in his heavy country accent. Someone was going to get hurt; I just knew it. I'm leaning against Shane's jeep, with Glenn standing beside me as we watch. "Rick grimes! you got something you want to tell me?" Daryl shouts angrily. God, I just hope no one gets hurt too bad because I'll have to fix them up.

"Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof hooked him to a piece of metal. He's still there." Rick explains. I can just see Daryl's blood boiling. If steam could come out of his ears, it would be. Daryl turns around, wiping at his eyes like he was about to cry. "Hold on. Let me process this. You're saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof, and you left him there?!" He shouts with tears in his eyes. I actually feel bad for Daryl. If someone had chained my brother up on a roof with Walker able to get to him, I'd be just as angry. "yeah." Rick says quietly. Daryl's face is all scrunched up in anger. He turns around just a bit before launching the squirrels at Rick.

Shane immediately gets in between the two, tackling Daryl to the ground. Daryl falls to the ground with a grunt. T-dog drops the logs he was carrying and is just about to jump in when Daryl pulls out his knife and pushes himself off the ground. "watch the knife!" T-dog shouts. Daryl then tries to swing at Rick but misses. Rick grabs one of Daryl's arms, and Shane comes behind him, both men holding him back. Rick takes a step back, letting Shane take over. "Okay, okay," Shane says, trying to stop Daryl from struggling. We all knew this would happen; Daryl was violent. "You'd best let me go!" Daryl shouts.

"Nah, I think it's better if I don't." Shane's arms are around Daryl's neck in a choke hold, and Daryl grunts and tries to escape Shane's grip. "Choke hold's illegal," Daryl grunts as Shane gets him to the ground. "You can file a complaint," Shane replies sarcastically.

"Come on, man. We'll keep this up all day." Shane warns as Rick kneels down next to Daryl. "I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic. Do you think we can manage that?" Rick asks Daryl. Daryl doesn't answer. Just continues to wriggle around, trying to get out of their hold. "Do you think we can manage that?" Rick repeats like he's talking to a toddler. Daryl is panting, but let's say, "mhm, yeah." Shane lets him go harshly. "what I did was not on a whim." Rick says, still kneeling down next to Daryl. Daryl's still panting as Rick says, "Your brother does not work and play well with others." Daryl stares at the ground as Rick talks to him. "It's not Rick's fault. I had the key." T-dog says. Both men look up at T-dog. "I dropped it." Daryl's brows furrow. "you couldn't pick it up?!" Daryl asks loudly.

"Well, I dropped it in a drain."

Daryl lets out a loud scoff as he looks down at the ground on his hands and knees. He pushes himself off the ground. "if it's supposed to make me feel better, it doesn't." He says harshly as he throws a handful of rocks back onto the ground as walks past t-dog. "Well, maybe this will.." t-dog says. Daryl stops as t-dog continues, "look, I chained the door to the roof—so the geeks couldn't get at him...with a padlock."

"It's gotta count for something," Rick says. Daryl sighs before wiping his eyes again "hell with all y'all!" Daryl shouts as tears begin to form in his eyes once again. "Just tell me where he is," Daryl says desperately, like he's falling apart without his brother. Even though the two fought like cats and dogs, you could tell they loved each other. "so, I can go get him."

"He'll show you, isn't that, right?" Lori says with one hand on the RV door. Rick's breathing heavily as he looks around. "I'm goin' back." Lori lets out a sigh before climbing into the RV angrily. I understand Lori's anger; she doesn't want her husband, whom she hasn't seen in 2 months, to leave again.

"Are you going back?" I ask, turning to Glenn. "If they want me to yeah." Glenn replies with a nod. "I want to go too," I whisper; Glenn's eyes widen. "You can't," he says; I cross my arms over my chest and let out an angry sigh. I don't know why every man I know chooses to treat me like a child. "I can, and I will. I don't give two fucks what you say." Glenn sighs and places a hand on my shoulder. "You. Can't." I scoff and roll my eyes. "I'm goin' anyways. You can't stop me," I say as I push his arm off me and walk over to Shane.

"I'm going with them." Shane laughs but quickly realizes I'm serious, and his smile drops. "no, you're not." I roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest. I don't know when he will realize I'm a few years older than Glenn. If Glenn can handle himself out there, so can I. "I can handle myself out there. I want to help!" Shane laughs and grabs my upper arm harshly. "I'm sure you can, but I'm protecting you." I hate how he always uses the excuse that he's protecting me: "I'm not a kid. I can help!" I shout; he rolls his eyes and says, "You sure are actin' like one. If you want to help, cook something or wash some clothes." I push him off of me and scoff. "Fuck you."

Rick walks out of his family's tent, dressed in his police uniform. I'll ask him. Maybe he's not like Shane. "Hey, Rick!" I say, running up to him. He stops, brows furrowed together. I realize I haven't really introduced myself, so I say, " I'm y/n, I have a question." he nods in response, so I say, "Can I go with y'all?" He sighs and looks at me like, 'Do you have any experience?' "I was in that city for a week with only a knife. I know my way around the place," he sighs again, asking, "Can you shoot a gun?" I nod. I've been able to shoot a gun since I was 7 years old. That's just the pros of growing up in rural Georgia with a grandpa who loved to hunt. "I don't care as long as you can handle yourself." I smile. I turn towards Shane, who has a scowl on his face. I grin just to piss him off.

I watch as Rick walks over to Shane; they have a hushed conversation. Shane's obviously pissed about something, maybe it's me, perhaps it's Rick leaving again. Rick begins to walk off while Shane follows shortly behind.

I think Glenn's pissed at me too. I understand he cares about me a lot, but I want to prove myself to the group. I want them to know I'm not just some helpless girl that needs protecting. I walk over to him; he's got his arms crossed with a worried look on his face. "You going with them?" He asks. I nod, and he loudly sighs, "What if you get hurt?" I rolled my eyes; I had been out in that city with only a knife as a weapon for a week. I know how to protect myself. "I'm not. I can handle myself. I did it before," I say, trying to comfort him, but it doesn't seem to work. He grabs my hand and whispers, "Why would you risk your life for Merle Dixon?" with his brows furrowed. I shrug, and He sighs as he drops my hand. "You give me so much anxiety, y/n," he says with a laugh; I laugh as well and say, "And you think you don't do the same to me?" He rolls his eyes before He smiles and grabs my hand.

Shane and Rick walk back into the area where everyone else is bickering. "So, you and Daryl, that's your big plan?" Lori asks Rick from her spot sitting by our campfire. Rick turns to both me and Glenn. Glenn lets out a groan. "Oh, come on." I laugh because he should have known he'd have to go, too. After all, he's our designated errand-runner. "You know the way. You've been there before...in and out, no problem. You said so yourself." Glenn takes his hat off and runs his hand through his hair. "It's not fair of me to ask, I know that, but I'd feel a lot better with you alone. I know she would, too." Rick says, turning to his wife. "That's just great. Now you're not only going to risk y/n's life but three of our men, huh?"

"Four," t-dog corrects.

Daryl huffs. "My day just gets better and better, don't it?" Daryl says as he cleans his arrows. "You see anybody else here stepping up to save your brothers, cracker ass?" T-dog retorts, which makes me laugh because it is quite a coincidence that T-dog is stepping up to help when Merle hates him. "Why you?" Daryl demands. "You wouldn't even begin to understand. You don't speak my language."

Dale walks over and says, "That's four."

"It's not just four. You're putting every single one of us at risk. Just know that, Rick. Come on, you saw that, Walker. It was here. It was in camp. They're moving out of the cities. They come back; we need every ablebody we've got, " Shane says, getting closer to Rick. "We need 'em here. We need 'em to protect the camp." he's pissed. He doesn't want us out there anymore, especially for Merle. He didn't give a shit about any of us, only himself, so why were we even going. To make ourselves feel better, to not have that guilt on our backs.

"It seems to me what you really need most here...are more guns."

"Right, the guns." Glenn says, slowly walking forward. Everyone, including me, needs clarification about what he's talking about. "Wait, what guns?" Shane asks with his eyebrows furrowed. "Six shotguns, two high-powered rifles, over a dozen handguns." Rick states. "I cleaned out the cage back at the station before I left. I dropped it when I got swarmed in Atlanta. It's just sitting there on the street, waiting to be picked up." Rick explained. "Ammo?" Shane asks quietly. "700 rounds, assorted." Rick confirms. Shane bows his head, thinking about what we should do. "You went through hell to find us. Yo-you just got here, and you're gonna turn around and leave?" Lori just couldn't understand why he would risk his life, leaving again. But we needed those guns and ammo. Finding Merle would just be a side quest. "Dad, I-I don't want you to go." Carl stutters out. "To hell with the guns. Shane is right. Merle Dixon? He's not worth one of your lives, even with guns thrown in." Shane runs his hands through his hair as Rick walks towards Lori. Lori stands up and says, "Tell me. Make me understand."

"I owe a debt to a man I met and his little boy." Lori looks down at Carl like, 'We have a kid too?!' Rick grabs Lori's hand. "Lori, if they hadn't taken me in, I'd have died." He says quietly, "It's because of them that I made it back to you at all. They said they'd follow me to Atlanta. they'll walk into the same trap I did if I don't warn him." Lori looks down at her feet before whispering, "What's stoppin' you?" Rick sighs before saying, "the walkie-talkie, the one in the bag I dropped, he's got the other one. Our plan was to connect when they got closer."

Shane's now sat down by his jeep, rubbing at his face, stressed, he's stressed. What are you really supposed to do in this situation? We really need those guns, but we could lose people if we did it. "These are our walkies?" Shane asks. Rick nods and says, "Yeah." with a sigh. "So, use the c.b...what's wrong with that?" Andrea suggests. "The c.b's fine. It's the walkies that suck to crap..date back to the '70s, don't match any other bandwidth, not even the scanners in our cars" Shane explains. Lori avoids Rick's eye contact, looking just behind or at her feet. "I need that bag." Lori doesn't reply. She's just speechless. Rick walks past Lori and to their son. He kneels down in front of Carl. "okay?" Carl just nods. "All right," Rick whispers as he ruffles Carls's hair.

Glenn turns to me. "We're both coming back alive. I swear if you don't, I will literally kill you." I let out a laugh. "Well then, if you don't, I'll do the same," he smiles. "Deal?" "Deal." We both laugh as I lean my head onto his shoulder.

-

I'm sitting in my tent, riffling through my belongings, looking for the handgun my granddad lent me before I headed off to college. I finally found it hidden under a pile of blankets. I stuffed it into my bag and stepped out of my tent. Glenn's already in the large truck Rick and them brought back. Daryl's in the back with t-dog, while Glenn's in the front. I walk over and hop up into the back with Daryl. "You find your gun?" Glenn asks as he turns back towards me. I nod as I take a seat on the metal floor. Rick and Shane walk up to the back of the truck. Shane places down a large black bag. "Hey, Rick, got any rounds in the python?" Shane asks. "No," Rick replies, shaking his head. "Last time we were on the gun range, I'm sure I wound up with a few loose rounds of yours."

Daryl sits next to me and takes my gun out of my hand. He examines it briefly before asking, "You know how to use this, darlin'?" I scoff and roll my eyes. "Yeah, I do," I say as I grab my gun back from him and tuck it back into my bag. "You know how to use that?" I ask sarcastically as I point to his crossbow. He laughs, "Of course I fuckin' do." Rick and Shane walk away, and Daryl stands up. He walks over and closes the back of the truck. The truck starts up, and we're going.

-

We're driving over some train tracks, which is a bit bumpy but not too bad. "He'd better be okay. It's my only word on the matter." Daryl says to T-dog it's a warning; if Merle isn't alive, he's going to hurt someone, and it'll probably be T-dog. "He will," I whisper. Of course, he will. He's fucking Merle. He'd be able to be hit by a truck, and he'd still be alright. "I told you the geeks can't get to him," T-dog says, leaning his head against the metal wall of the truck. "The only thing that's gonna get through that door is us." t-dog adds.

We come to a slow stop, and Glenn takes out the keys. he then turns to us, "We walk from here." We all get out of the car. Both T-dog and Daryl hop out first, then me.

-

Glenn pushes a broken part of a wired fence out of the way so we can all get through. "Merle first or guns?" Rick asks as he turns around towards us. "Merle! We ain't even having this conversation!" Daryl shouts. "We are." Rick says and then turns to Glenn, "You know the geography. It's your call." Glenn sighs before saying, "Merle's closest. The guns would mean doubling back. Merle first." a little out of breath. Daryl's definitely happy about that.

-

We're walking through a department store, and we're all a little on Guard. I've got my gun held out, ready to shoot any moment. We hear a Walker shuffling around, so we all freeze. Rick spots it and points it out to us before we slowly walk around the store, trying to stay as quiet and out of sight as possible. Daryl approaches the rotten, growling thing, and he raises his crossbow "damn, you are one ugly skank." He mutters. It starts to growl at him, getting ready to lunge, but he quickly shoots it straight in the head. It falls to the ground with a thud, and Daryl quickly pulls his arrow out of its head.

We made it to the top with hardly any more walker interference, which I'm grateful for. We all sprint up to the door that leads to the roof, Rick's there first, holding the chain so t-dog can cut it off. He cuts the chain, pulls it off, and Daryl kicks open the door before he runs out. "Merle! Merle!" he shouts as he gets out onto the roof. We follow him as Daryl looks for his brother, but he's not there, just handcuffs cuffed to a pipe, a saw, and a hand.

"No! No!" Daryl cries out over and over again. I feel for Daryl, I really do, but did we all really think Merle was going to stay up there? There was no doubt in my mind that Merle wouldn't find a way to get his ass off this roof, even if that meant sawing off his own hand.

Previous >> next

Taglist

@e1d0lonk3k @soul4death

[my-mt-heart]

What really confuses me:

If there's a show that could rely solely in nostalgia it's Caryl's. Carol and Daryl's stories are the wires that cross the whole show. They were there from begging to end. Their relationship was there from begging to end. They have all the nostalgia in their favor. There could be at least 3 seasons of Caryl only dealing with past trauma, callbacks to iconic moments, and dialogues composed of memorable quotes. And yet there's so much more to tell. There is so much conflict/tension to explore and resolve.

Even more than TOWL (Rick and Michonne left TDW at some point and Richonne's relationship only started later in the show. And I think all that needed to be explored/resolved regarding them was done in the main show and in the season 1 of TOWL. There's not much conflict left)

A lot more than Dead City (Negan's most iconic moments are of when he harmed other people and he already got his redemption arc/flashbacks in TWD, so there's not a lot of trauma healing left. Meggie's most iconic moments are with her family, which is, besides her son, dead, so there's not a lot of connections nor motivation left (they can't rely on her son forever). Meggie also left at some point and her relationship with Negan only started in season 5, in a horrendous context that doesn't leave a lot of room for development (and she already forgave him in the main show). There's not much conflict left)

So what I don't understand is, with such gold material in their hands, how can they screw up so badly? Even if they were lazy, all the material was there in plain sight, they didn't have to dig it up.

Do you think I'm justified in thinking that even a child with some critical thinking could do a better job? 2. To what do you attribute this writing mess (from season 1 to season 2.6 spoilers)? Is it just plain bad writing or purposely screwing Carol/Caryl (and even in-character-Daryl)? 3. And what would they gain with failing so hard? 4. Do you think there's more investment in the other spinoffs? 5. Are you still holding on any hope they could do Caryl/Carol/Daryl justice? 6. And what would you do differently if it was you in command? 7. What's your favorite nostalgic moment you'd like to see revisited in the spinoff?

I could have sworn I posted this already, but apparently it's been in my drafts for over a month?? Anyways...

1. Yes.

2. Both. Zabel only cares about his original characters/original concept and Nicotero was put in charge during the strike

3. In their minds? Freedom to tell a story about men by men for men

4. I think AMC invests too much time trying to market every show to the built-in TWD fanbase as a whole and to new viewers (new= more dudebros) instead of accepting that each spinoff has its own core audience who connect with specific characters and growing those separate fanbases and then diversifying with viewers who can enjoy different elements without stepping on the core audience's toes.

5. They can try to slap a band-aid on things. Not sure they're motivated to do that and as long as Zabel is showrunning, pushing the friendship narrative, and shipbaiting, then there's no way Caryl/Carol/Daryl will get the storytelling they deserve.

6. In addition to giving Daryl and Carol their own character development and writing a compelling external plot (that treats the audience like they're intelligent), Caryl's relationship needs to be the emotional core of the show. We need to e x p l i c i t l y see them grow together as a romantic couple in ways that honor their shared history on the flagship show.

7. Well, the painful thing is there are so many nostalgic moments and story beats that were left unexplored between Caryl that I've been dying to see, but I don't even want Zabel to touch them because I think he'll just ruin them. He doesn't understand Caryl's story well enough to do it justice. Melissa needs more creative control.

[bjorkzzor]

Just published another chapter of A New World! Check it out

A New World - A The Walking Dead Fanfic - Chapter 18 (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1339834300-a-new-world-a-the-walking-dead-fanfic-chapter-18?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=Bjorkis&wp_originator=3%2Bla0d8Ksq01oLs1PyfvSIq1ciEd8iRAsfEuvkwW7i6UiWHac6x2ruMDAbSGsgoxPjJDsV0z%2FvNMRiOWFxYIROVckw6rEloYncVGVnC5Tb7J%2Fe7MQUac14WGOelDHQIV In a world where everything has been turned upside down and where the dead roam the Earth, one tiny mistake can result in your death. Being alone is a bold option but when you've got no one else but yourself it's the only one there is. Growing up as a daughter of a man in the military, Sam had learned a thing or two. At the age of 12 she was fully capable of surviving on her own in the wilderness, although she never believed that knowledge would be useful one day. Nowadays she's grateful for what her father put her through as the dead walk the streets. But surviving on your own will only get you that far, so when she encounters a group of people living outside of Atlanta, what will she do? Is she going to trust a group of complete strangers that seem to have enough trouble as it is, and if so, will it be worth it? (I genuinely suck at descriptions so I suggest you read a chapter or two instead)

[lunajay33]

Change Part.7

•🩰🎀🩷•

Summary: Y/n is a loner but loves ballet but her family doesn’t have enough money for her to dance at the studio, Daryl is a redneck who hates people and prefers bikes, until one day these two run into eachother and their lives change drastically, will Daryl toughen her up? Will y/n soften Daryl? Or both? How will things go when people start coming back from the dead

Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x f!reader

A/n: This is going to be a series, it’s gonna start with how they met eachother and their lives before the apocalypse, eventually it’ll blend with twd story line!!

Part.6

•Masterlist•

“Where’s Merle?”

They explained the situation, how Merle was going to get everyone killed and what happened, now I’m just waiting anxiously for Daryl to come back from tracking that deer, Merle’s always been a hard ass and a problem to deal with but he is Daryl’s brother this was going to be a hard one to deal with, how was I suppose to tell him Merle’s handcuffed to a roof and the incident with Ed?

The kids screamed alerting the rest of us somethings was wrong, I got up running through the trees to where a deer was being eaten by a walker, this must be the deer Daryl’s been tracking, Shane ripped the walker back beating on it until it was weak and in pieces but obviously still alive, Daryl and I have noticed the group are still not quite clear with how to deal and kill walkers

“Come on guys, gotta get the head” I groaned driving my knife through its head, the bush ahead rustled alerting everyone’s attention

Daryl comes out groaning as he sees the dead deer

“Damn it! I’ve been tracking this thing for miles, do you think we can just cut around chewed up bit?”

“I wouldn’t risk it” Shane said

“Shit” when he saw me he lightened up a bit, I held my hand out for him

“Come on we need to talk” we get back to the camp and he calls out for Merle

“Where the hell are ya Merle?”

“He’s not here Daryl” I say feeling my bottom lip tremble, I’m not usually this emotional but with the pregnancy and after everything that’s happened today I can’t help it

“What do ya mean?” He asks worried as he notices my reaction

“We need to tell you something?” Rick said as everyone started to circle the scene

“And who the hell are you?”

“Rick Grimes”

“Ya got something ya need to tell me Rick Grimes” I can tell he’s growing more agitated

“He was a danger to us all I had no choice but to handcuff him the roof”

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

“Yeah” Daryl was fuming and went to lunge at Rick but Shane gets behind him and gets him in a choke hold

“Ya best let me go”

“Let him go Shane come on” I yelled pushing him away helping Daryl up

“Choke holds illegal” I tried to calm him down by rubbing his back but he shooed me off

“It wasn’t Rick’s fault, I had the key and dropped it” T-dog intervenes

“Ya couldn’t pick it up?”

“I dropped it down the drain, but if it helps I chained the door shut he’s probably still up there”

“I’m going to get him, just tell me where he is” Daryl groans as he gets him crossbow

“Rick will show you, won’t you Rick” Lori says as she steps out of the camper

“Yeah I’ll show you”

A few people got together preparing to go back to Atlanta

“Daryl I’m sorry but….but I’m scared I don’t want you to go” he went to say something when his eyes landed on my jaw gently raising his hand to caress it

“What the hell happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“Yer bruised and it wasn’t there this morning”

“I…….ill tell you when you get back, because you will be coming back to me Daryl Dixon” he sighs dropping his hand

“Okay, and I’m sorry fer pushing ya away earlier”

“It’s okay I understand just don’t risk your life if Merle doesn’t want help”

“I’ll be back for both my ballerinas don’t worry”

“What if I come with you, as you said I’m a ballerina after all I’m good on my feet”

“Nah Angel yer pregnant can’t risk it”

“You’re pregnant?” I hear Rick ask from behind us

“Umm yeah, so you better make sure he gets back here in one piece”

“I will, you have my word” everyone filled into the cargo truck and were about to leave

“I love you Daryl”

“Love ya Angel” they drove off and it feels like my heart is driving off with them

I went to sit by Dales camper since he had the most comfortable seats and god I need that right now

“You alright sweetie?” Dale asks as he takes a seat beside me

“I’m just tired, it’s been a hectic day”

“You know when my wife was pregnant she got these awful emotions out of no where, she’d be fine one moment and then crying her eyes out the next and it always overwhelmed her”

“You know” I look at him shocked

“I couldn’t tell at first but Daryl seems really protective and I’ve seen him hold your belly when you think no one’s looking, it’s quite sweet actually, seeing that side of him”

“Is it obvious? Daryl and I don’t really want everyone to know just yet”

“Oh no I just got an eye for things” he smiles

“Thanks Dale”

“So how far along are you?”

“About 4 months now I’d say”

“Do you know the sex?”

“No but I have this feeling she’s a girl”

“Mothers intuition” he laughs

“Daryl likes to call us his little ballerinas”

“Whys that?”

“When we met I was obsessed with ballet, specifically Swan Lake, we got paired up as partners in class and he came over, my room was decorated like a ballerina would have it, he was interested and he even bought me little slippers, I still have them”

“Did you dance?” He asked intrigued

“Sadly no, I didn’t have enough money, I did a few class when I was in Atlanta, Daryl paid for them as a gift for me, but after school and everything I never got to peruse it, but in the end I got Daryl and that means more to me than being a ballerina”

“He’s a good man isn’t he?”

“He really is, he just has walls it’s not his fault, but he really is a wonderful man, I’ve never loved anyone more” I smile at him rubbing my tiny bump

“Come on let’s get you some supper”

The evening went on and there was no sign of Daryl and the others and it was driving me insane, it was dark now what if something happened and now I’ll never see him again

“Where are you going?” Andrea asked Amy

“I gotta pee, geez can’t a girl get some privacy?” She said making everyone laugh

“How’re you feeling sweetie?” Lori asked from across the fire

“Oh I’m fine, just anxious I want Daryl back”

“I still can’t believe you’re with a man like Daryl Dixon you guys are complete opposites” Shane says

“We’re more alike than you know”

“How so?”

“It’s personal”

My face throbbed in pain and I could feel the blood trickle down my face, disoriented I tried to steadily make my way to Daryl’s house without falling or passing out

I finally made it walking around the house to Daryl’s window, knocking on the door and waking his dad late at night would be stupid of me, his window slid open and he rubbed his eyes tired

“Y/n what are ya doing here it’s like 2 in the morning” it must have been too dark for him to notice

“Can you help me Daryl” I could hear the whine in my voice

“What’s wrong?”

I slumped to the ground leaning against his house, he jumped out the window and kneeled infront of me shinning a light in my face

“What the hell happened who did this?”

“Jackson, he had friends over and they…..they got rough with me, slammed my head……against the wall”

“I’m gonna kill em” he got up

“Please don’t leave me”

“Come on I’ll get ya cleaned up”

He brought me in the house and sat me on his bed, getting a cloth and some supplies, fixing up whatever needed fixing, finishing with patching me up

“What about your dad?”

“Don’t worry he’s been gone for like a week, yet staying here tonight”

“Are you sure?”

“Ya, ain’t going back to that asshole”

“Thanks, I’ll take the floor”

“Nah yer sleeping on the bed”

“Can you sleep with me, I just don’t wanna be alone”

He didn’t say anything and just climbed in behind me, I rolled over and laid my head on his chest, his arm holding me closer

“Thank you Daryl”

“Anytime Angel”

That was the first night we shared the same bed, and it was like I was really feeling love for the first time ever, Daryl’s always been there for me like I’ve always been there for him

“Where’s the extra toilet paper?” I hear Amy ask from the camper before she lets out a blood curdling scream, we all shoot up noticing walkers swarming the camp, I take my knife out ready for any that comes my way, everyone is screaming and trying to dodge any walkers, I turn hearing one behind me and lodge my knife into its brain but the knife sticks and I go down with it

“Y/n watch out!!” I hear Lori scream I turn around and another one falls on me, I lay on my back trying to hold it back from snapping at my flesh and ripping me apart, it’s strong though, too strong and I’m getting weak when suddenly it goes limp with an arrow through its head

Throwing the body off me I look up to see Daryl running towards me holding me close as the others finish off the remaining walkers

“Thank god you’re back” I sigh gripping his shirt

“I’m sorry, shoulda never left”

Part.8

Taglist: @pinchofthetwd @bigbaldheadname @strawberrykiwisdogog @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @l0kilaufeys0n7 @deansapplepie @severelykinky @tesfayera @daryldixmedown @secretsicanthideanymore @mordilwen-of-mirkwood @secretsicanthideanymore @superbowlisgay @pollito-chicken @absssposts @writer-ann-artist @dgeckobones @twisteduniverse5 @heidiland05 @lettersfromyourlove @minnie-min

[gonzo-rella]

Okay so I've made a list (in no particular order) of fics I might write as part of this blog's celebration of Pride Month. I'm hoping to post something on most days, if not every day (an ambitious goal, I know, considering my tendency to disappear for months at a time and the years-old list of requests I haven't gotten around to yet), since I can normally finish a set of headcanons in a couple of hours, and most of what I want to write is hcs.

Some of these are from requests I've received in the past. I have some other queer!reader requests on that list; if you'd like me to consider writing any of those for Pride Month, feel free to send in an ask! I've just chosen a couple of the ones I've either started writing, or I feel motivated to write.

Anyway, feel free to send in some requests after perusing my fandom list and requesting rules. Since I'm nonbinary, a lot of these fics have a nonbinary!reader or otherwise trans!reader. But, I'll happily write for other queer identities, too!

Ferris Bueller's Day Off - Cameron Frye w/ genderfluid!reader (ficlet; requested)

Cam has a crush on the reader, and still wants to be with them after they come out to him as genderfluid

Yellowjackets - Lottie Matthews w/ FTM/transmasc!reader (one-shot; requested)

Lottie helps reader do his t-shot, and comforts him when he's feeling dysphoric.

The Walking Dead - trans!Carl Grimes having a familial-feeling relationship with a trans/nonbinary!reader (platonic)

Note: I'm only on season 8 of the Walking Dead (so don't spoil anything that happens after that). I watch it with my brother, but I'm planning on starting a rewatch from the beginning on my own because I feel like I started losing track of these characters and their arcs several seasons ago. I'll add it to my fandom list once I've finally started this planned rewatch. Hopefully, I'll start that this month. If I do take requests, I'd probably prefer to focus on the earlier seasons until I've gotten further along in the show. So, if you keep that in mind, feel free to send in TWD requests for Pride Month, even though it's not on my fandom list yet. Feel free to ask about whether I'd be interested in writing about the character(s) you want.

Schitt's Creek - Alexis Rose, David Rose and Stevie Budd with a nonbinary s/o (headcanons)

Community - Being nonbinary in the Study Group (headcanons)

Ghosts - Being a nonbinary ghost in Button House (headcanons)

How I Met Your Mother - Being nonbinary in the HIMYM gang (headcanons)

Malcolm in the Middle - Being the nonbinary Wilkerson sibling.

[myocsfanfictions]

Safe Heaven - TWD Season 3

The Walking Dead Fanfiction

They had to leave the farm, and this time, they had to be on the road for seven months. Sarah and Nicki can not help but wonder and pray to find a new place. A place where they and their new family could start a life, maybe in peace, maybe forever. Does a safe heaven really exist in a world like the one they are facing?

MASTERLIST

《 Previous - Next 》

Chapter 4

NICOLETTE

After eight months, the group was finally able to spend more than two nights in the same place. T-Dog had been searching for supplies with Carol when they stumbled upon a little village in the middle of nowhere in Georgia. They had found an abandoned school where they could finally rest.

Rick had kept them safe throughout the winter, and Nicki was well aware of that, but he had made them move around constantly. Whenever he wasn’t sure about the safety of a location, he preferred to find a better one. But now everyone was feeling fatigued, and Lori, even though she kept up the pace as if she weren’t about to deliver a baby in a few weeks, was starting to tire more easily. So, when Rick agreed to stay at the school for a few days,

"The school wasn’t big; it was a kindergarten with only three classrooms. They had cleared it of the walkers that had been inside, and Sarah had set up her traps at the doors to alert them if any walkers managed to get in. This way, they could escape through the window of the classroom they were using for sleep.

"Glenn," Rick said, making the guy look towards him. Take the map; I wanna see where the closer creek is. Tomorrow, we might need more water." Glenn got up from where he was sitting next to Maggie and then followed Rick and Daryl to the other side of the classroom.

"You think we can stay here?" Nicki heard Carol ask Hershel. The man's beard and hair had grown, but Nicolette had to admit that the new look suited the old man. It made him look kind of badass.

"I don't know," he answered with the usual gentle tone. "The herd is far from here, but it's going to catch up sooner than later. " Then his eyes went to Lori, who was talking with Sarah.

The day before they found the school, they had stumbled across a herd of walkers. They were in the cars, so they were all safe. But it was a pretty big herd—too big for that place to keep them safe.

Nicki chuckled with annoyance. She was too used to not feeling safe, not even inside four walls. It felt like a mockery. Nicolette had never believed in God, but if there was one, he surely had a strange sense of humor.

"Dad," she turned when she heard Shorty's voice, "I've seen a store just at the end of the road. I thought I could go take a look." Rick looked down at his son. He didn't like when Carl wanted to go alone on runs, but it had happened, and Nicki was sure that under the worry, he was proud of him. She had to be honest about that. Shorty was difficult to scare, and he had learned pretty quickly how to handle himself out there.

"Rick..." Lori spoke, clearly not agreeing with Carl going.

"I can do it!" Carl exclaimed, glaring at his mother before turning back to his father. Nicki could see the uncertainty in Rick's eyes, but she knew that not letting Carl go would only make him more angry at Lori. So she got up from the desk she was sitting on, grabbed her quiver, and slung it across her shoulders.

"I can go with him," she said, taking the bow in her hand. Her suggestion didn’t seem to sit well with Shorty, but she ignored him, waiting for Rick's response.

The sheriff had come to trust Nicki's skills with the bow; she had proven herself more than once. But what held everyone back was her age. They often said she was too young, but in those months, she had done whatever it took to survive, just like the rest of them. They couldn’t deny that. So, even though she noticed the glance shared between Daryl and Sarah, as well as Rick’s uncertainty, she was confident he would eventually let them go.

"Alright," he said finally, nodding. "Come back in two hours, no more than that."

"Alright," she answered, then looked at Carl. "Come on, Shorty."

The boy rolled his eyes before heading toward the door, followed by Nicki. But just as she was about to walk out, Sarah stopped her, a gun in her hand.

"Bring this, too," her sister said.

"I'm okay with the arrows," Nicki replied, but Sarah insisted.

"And I'm okay with this only if you bring a gun, too." Sarah was terrified by the idea of Nicki running out of arrows. It wasn't easy to find them; even Daryl had shown her how to make more. Her sister always wanted Nicki to be prepared with more than one weapon.

"Alright," Nicki agreed, at last, taking the gun and tucking it into the back of her jeans. Then she followed Carl out.

"You didn’t have to come with me," Carl grumbled, marching ahead. His sheriff hat perched confidently on his head, a backpack slung over his shoulders, and the gun firmly in hand.

"It’s true," she replied coolly, nodding. "But then you’d just sulk all day."

She caught his glare at her, "What's into you?"

Nicki knew that Carl had taken in the whole Lori and Shane situation very badly. He adored his father, and he loved Shane, too. He surely felt like his mother had betraid their family in more than one sense. But she also knew that Lori regretted what she had done.

"Do you know the meaning of cohabitation?" she asked, and she saw him look briefly in her direction.

"Yeah," he shot back, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "It means I’m stuck with you."

That made her chuckle, "And I'm with you," Nicki said with a shrug of her shoulders, "And you are a pain when you are angry."

"So you’re doing this for yourself?" he countered, his skepticism evident. He scoffed when she didn’t respond.

They walked in silence for several meters before Carl stopped in his tracks. Something had caught his attention. Nicki frowned as she looked in the same direction.

It was a house.

The girl wondered what had interested him so much. They had seen many houses like that one, and they had even found shelter in some of them. But she had no time to ask because he had already started making his way toward the house.

Nicolette took a breath. "I thought we were going to the store," she said, hands on her hips.

"You go," he replied. "You don't have to come with me."

Nicki rolled her eyes and caught up with him, taking him by the shoulder to turn him around. "I promised your father I would accompany you. And you should be thankful," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I know that..." he admitted, looking down. She observed him, his gaze fixed on the ground as he kicked the dirt softly with his foot.

"I don't want your 'thank you,'" Nicki said, making him look up. "But tell me what you want to do." He frowned, looking up at her.

"Why did you want to come with me?" Nicki cocked her head to the side.

"Why did you want to go to that house?" she asked, moving toward it. She chuckled when she heard him groan.

"It was not a stupid question," he muttered to himself as he caught up with her.

"So?" she pressed again.

"I hate when you don’t answer," he replied, making her chuckle again. But he continued, "My house was very similar." Nicki looked between him and the house.

"Is that so?" she asked, but he shrugged.

"We don’t have to go," he said dismissively. "Let’s just go to the store."

"Don’t be embarrassed," she called out when he was about to walk back to where they had come from. Carl shot her a small frown. "Come on," she said, gesturing toward the house with her head. "Let’s take a look."

The girl took one of her arrows, placing it against her bow as Carl gripped his gun. Nicki pressed one ear against the door to ensure there was no noise inside. The two of them shared a look before Carl reached for the doorknob and turned it open.

As they entered, the air was thick with dust, and an unsettling silence hung over everything. The walls were painted a faded peach, their once cheerful hue now dull and peeling. Wooden trim, chipped and weathered, outlined the windows, allowing faint rays of sunlight to filter through and illuminate the remnants of a life once lived.

The two of them nodded at each other, ready to separate to see if any walkers were inside. Carl headed toward the kitchen while Nicki stepped into the living room. There was a worn leather sofa that sat crookedly, flanked by mismatched chairs that had seen better days. A patterned rug lay askew on the hardwood floor, which creaked underfoot, echoing the absence of life. On a glass coffee table, a stack of magazines lay untouched. It didn’t seem there were any walkers in that room.

She walked out into the corridor, where she noticed framed photos of smiling families hanging crookedly on the walls. Their faces were dust-covered, whispering stories of joy now overshadowed by the stark reality of abandonment.

Then she saw Carl walking out of the kitchen, and as he turned to look at her, Nicki suddenly heard a growling sound. It was louder than usual, and then, from around the corner, a walker appeared.

"Behind you!" they both shouted at the same moment. Nicki quickly shot her arrow at the walker behind Carl as he fired in her direction. When she turned, she saw the walker behind her now lying on the ground, Carl's bullet in its skull.

"The bastard was in the closet," she whispered to herself, realizing she hadn’t noticed it there. Then she turned to Carl, sharing a nod of gratitude with him.

Then Nicki glanced back at the walker behind her. It was a woman, and as she looked at the photos on the wall, she realized it was the same woman who had once lived there. When she turned to follow Carl up the stairs, she noticed that the man from the photos was also present. She took a deep breath, hoping that at least one of them hadn’t killed the other.

Shaking off those thoughts, she made her way upstairs. The floor seemed clear as she looked around for Carl. She didn’t have to try hard to find him; he was looking at more pictures in a drawer in the corridor.

"It’s a pretty house," she said, leaning her back against the wall next to Carl, who looked at her with curiosity.

"I’ve never asked you," he reflected, "Did you live in a house like this one?"

Nicki shook her head, looking down. "No, an apartment," she answered. Her mind drifted back to her parents. She really hoped that one day she would see them again—or at least find out what had happened to them. And their grandmother.

"It must be hard for you," he said, keeping his blue eyes on her. "Not knowing." Tears welled up in Nicki's eyes as she thought about her parents.

"It’s alright," he said again, but his tone made her frown. He was speaking almost softly to her. "You don’t have to say anything. I’ll keep your secret, though."

She looked at him, confused. "What secret?" she asked, her voice devoid of harshness.

"What makes you cry," he answered.

She shook her head, drying her tears. "It’s not exactly a secret."

Then he smiled at her, a genuine smile. "I’ll keep it anyway," he said before walking toward the bedroom. Nicki watched him with wide eyes, then a little chuckle escaped her lips as she took another arrow and followed him.

Lucky for them, there was no walker inside, so they started to look around. Nicki walked toward the drawer and opened it. There were many shirts. They could use some.

For an instant, she felt a pang of sympathy for the couple lying dead downstairs, but once again, she pushed that thought aside. Gesturing to Carl to hand her his backpack, she opened it to put some clothes inside.

"Cool!" she heard him exclaim as he walked to a shelf. "Is this a pair of binoculars?" Nicki chuckled as he pointed them at her.

"Does it work?" she asked.

"Yeah," he replied, turning to look outside. "We could use them to..." Nicki frowned as he suddenly stopped talking and walked back toward her. "We gotta go," he said, his face pale.

"What?" she asked, but he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her along with him.

"A herd," he said, making her eyes widen. Was the herd already there? It couldn’t be. That herd was heading in another direction. How did they get so far so quickly?

"Where are they?" Nicki asked as they sprinted toward the door of the house.

"They're coming from the east," he answered, glancing at the street in that direction. Nicki followed his gaze. They would be there any minute now.

"We gotta tell the others," she said, nudging him to run toward the school.

The two of them raced side by side, adrenaline fueling their speed as Nicki glanced back over her shoulder to ensure no walkers were in pursuit. They weren’t far from the school, and with their urgency, they burst through the doors and into the classroom.

"Dad!" Carl cried, his voice a mix of fear and urgency.

"Carl!" Nicki heard Rick call as he sprinted toward his son. "What’s going on?"

"We gotta go now!" Carl exclaimed, his eyes wide with panic.

"A herd is coming," Nicki panted, trying to catch her breath. "Carl saw them coming from the east."

Rick's eyes widened in alarm. "Daryl!" he shouted, turning on his heel and leading them back into the classroom. "We gotta move! Everyone, get up!"

Nicki met Sarah's gaze for a brief moment, then rushed over to her sister to help gather their sleeping bags, their earlier calm shattered by the looming threat.

"Lori, let me help!" Carol called out as she ran to assist Lori. In the chaos, Hershel and Beth quickly packed away their food while Rick, Daryl, and Maggie stood guard by the door, eyes scanning for any signs of danger. Glenn and T-Dog had already jumped out of the window to get the cars running.

"Come on! Come on!" Glenn urged, running back to help pass bags through the window. One by one, they scrambled out, each person moving with a sense of urgency. Glenn, Maggie, Beth, and Hershel piled into one car, while Nicki climbed into another with Carol and T-Dog. Rick, Lori, and Carl took their own vehicle, and Daryl sped off on his bike with Sarah.

As they left the town, Nicki turned around and caught sight of at least forty walkers roaming the streets, their grotesque figures stumbling aimlessly. A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she sank back in her seat, feeling the weight of despair settle over her. Once again, they were back on the road, a relentless journey through a nightmare that seemed never-ending. When would this horror finally stop? When would they find a safe place?

[littlegodzilla]

One more! A little more about this series.

Hope you'll like it!!

Enjoy!!

****************

.

Our Story.

Daryl Dixon x Wife/ Daryl Dixon x Reader.

Part 7.

Masterlist.

Warnings: TWD Violence. Angst. Fighting. Daryl working with his hands. Slow burn.

Words: 3000

Summary: walkers in the barn, a teen with a injured knee, daryl helps you to make new arrows for your bow.

≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈

Chapter 7: Leaving me.

Shane totally loses his mind, fed up with Rick's diplomacy, knowing that they can't stay on the farm, that Hershel wants you all off his land, he gets desperate and opens the barn doors.

There is a real massacre. Everyone shoots at the Walkers who come out as Hershel is left in shock, Beth and Maggie cry disconsolately, Rick screams until he's hoarse for them to stop, but no one pays any attention. You hold Carol and Sophia against your body so they can't see what's happening. Your skin crawls with every new shot, with every shot, with every dead body that falls, your mind brings your loved ones to your mind. Your parents, Michael, Guillermo, Jorge. Your sister.

You look away, feeling like throwing up, and you hear Carol crying next to you, catching your breath. Beth's screams make you look again, her mother, with a wrong shot is still moving and has caught her, T-Dog doesn't hesitate to run to help her and between him and Andrea, they put an end to it, saving the young girl.

The whole Greene family is in shock, although they are not the only ones, Lori, Rick, yourself, you find it hard to recover from what has just happened. Once again, Rick has to plead for the man's good judgment, but he's hurt, desperate, he doesn't want you there, to top it off, Shane keeps spitting venom as they walk behind the family. You feel a strange relief in your stomach as Maggie slaps him and barks at him to stay away. You would have loved to have been the one to do that.

**

Daryl finds you at the campsite gathering your things, he wanted to make sure you were okay, apologize, in a way, for what they've had to do, but he certainly didn't expect to find you doing your backpacking.

"What yer doin'?" he asks you with a grunt.

"I'm leaving." You don't even make an effort to look at him. "This is crazy."

"Hey, hey, wait." He tries to stop you. "Where yer gonna go? I though ya were stayin' with us."

"With you? I'm not staying around Shane's nutcase for another second, you killed all those people..."

"Y'know damn well they weren't people anymore..." He defends himself even though he's not comfortable with what they've done either.

"I don't care, Daryl, you came here, rampaging, these people had it under control, they had a method to live in peace and harmony, and now... now their little daughter is in shock and Hershel is missing."

"We didn't intend for this to happen, don't say it like we were the bad guys..." He feels a little hurt by your words.

"You were thinking like Shane? Shooting them was the sensible thing to do?" You ask him picking yourself up off the floor.

"Sooner or later those walls wouldn't have held and everything would have gone to shit. Ain't sayin' Shane's methods were the wisest, but..."

"You would have done the same." You grit your teeth hard.

"Haven't ya killed Walkers? Haven't ya gone through the heads of those things to survive?"

"They were their family! They had decided what they wanted to do with them, it gave you no right to act like that. What would have happened if they had been my parents?" You ask him and he takes a step back "Or Michael... What would have happened if I had been in there? Or my sister?"

"Don't play that game..." He grunts in pain as he imagines you two turned into those things.

"I'm sorry, but I'm leaving, I don't want to be here when Shane goes completely insane and kills you all." You refuse and turn around to leave.

"Yer just gonna leave me?" You hear from behind you, stopping again.

"Leave you?" you turn around, not believing what you hear, Daryl shifting nervously in his seat. "Leave you? Seriously? You're the one who told me to leave you alone." You turn back to him, your stride determined.

Okay, since he has brought it up; it's time to open the crap drawer.

"I didn't..."

"No. You did, you told me to leave you alone. You told me my sister was dead, that her opinion didn't matter anymore. You told me to stop wasting your time."

"I..." He doesn't know how to defend himself against that, because it's true, he told you all those things and now he feels ashamed about it. "Ya had Michael, he was better than me..."

"I wanted my best friend with me!" you scream feeling like crying again. "I thought that by us meeting again things maybe... but don't you see? It's like... we're strangers..." You say regretfully, because it hurts you to have lost all that you once had.

"Ya can't go around alone, ya need someone to take care of ya..."

"Take care of me?" Now you're hurt. "I saved your ass at the CDC, Daryl, I saved your ass going up that slope, I found Sophia and we both survived. I don't need a man to take care of me."

"I didn't mean that, I know ya've always been very independent, ya and yer sister, but this world is complicated and..."

"I'm leaving, Daryl. I hope you can find a safe place and live in peace." You say goodbye again, ready to walk away again.

He wants to hold you, wants you to stay, but doesn't give him time to open his mouth. Sophia's screams, calling for you, put you both on alert. Sophia runs straight to you, holds your hands, she is trembling and mumbling.

"Okay, okay, breathe, what's wrong?"

"It's Beth! She's passed out!" she screams in a panic.

Your body and Daryl's shake at the same time. You hold the backpack tighter and follow the girl towards the Greene's house, Daryl trails behind you, some distance behind, but he doesn't enter the house when you do, he stays on the porch, waiting.

Beth is still in shock, her catatonic state is due to the strong impact of everything that has happened. She has a slight fever, but you give her some serums with Patricia's help and some wet cloths.

"Let her rest, but she needs Hershel, she needs to mourn her dead... she needs time." You sigh, stroking the girl's hand. "I'll be back in a little while to check on her."

"Thank you so much." Maggie tells you sincerely.

"Do you know where Hershel is?"

"Rick and Glenn have gone to look for him in town." Lori explains nervously. "W-We should go look for them."

"Relax, they'll be back, Rick and Glenn know what they're doing" You try to calm her down, but she doesn't seem convinced.

You haven't been there with them long, barely two days, but it hasn't gone unnoticed by you, that between Lori, her husband and Shane something is going on, the tension that surrounds the trio is more than evident and the constant fear of losing her husband makes you curious, Glenn told you that Rick had come back from the dead, almost literally, that Lori thought he had died in the hospital and suddenly appeared in the camp. You understand his concern, but there's something else.

You can feel it.

"I-I'm going to ask Daryl to go get them." She says and walks out of the house.

You do nothing to stop her, Daryl is part of the group, you know he will go get them if you ask him to. Again you feel the kids look at you with intensity and you sigh.

"Are you really going to leave?" Carl asks you. "Sophia said you were leaving..."

"No, not at the moment... I can't leave with Beth like this." You try to smile as you see their faces light up.

*************

You find Daryl away from camp, you're surprised, but you save those questions for later. You know you've been cutting him off, that you're now going to ask him for a favor is hypocritical, but he had talked about making some arrows for the bow, making a bow even.

"Daryl..." You call out to him and he gives you a sidelong glance.

"What, ya wanna me to go find Rick too?" He barks sharpening what looks like a new arrow.

"Have you talked to Lori?" He doesn't say anything, but his silence is like a yes to you. "And you're not going?"

"I'm nobody's babysitter, Rick and Glenn are grown-ups." He growls and again you see in him the Daryl who slammed the door in your face.

"Where's Lori now?" You ask him and he shrugs, like he doesn't care. "Fuck, Daryl." You snort angrily and walk away again, running towards the house in search of the brunette woman.

When you get to the house, the group and the Greene family are setting the table for dinner. You glance at everyone out of the corner of your eye, but Lori is nowhere to be seen.

"Do you know where Lori is?" you ask getting the attention of the others.

"I saw her this afternoon, she told me to take a look at Carl..."

"She's not around?" Shane asks and for once you look concerned.

"I haven't seen her all day." Carol admits.

"I think she's gone to get Rick and Glenn, I went to talk to Daryl and he said she asked him, but..."

"Fuck!" Shane roars and storms out of the house.

You don't like him, you think he has a temper problem and his head isn't working right, but you're grateful he's going after her. Carl gets nervous, but Sophia tries to calm him down, assuring him that Lori will be back, that Shane will bring his mother and father back safe and sound. 

You try to finish dinner with some tension in the air, Daryl hasn't shown up for dinner, which doesn't surprise you either. When you finish dinner you go to Beth's room to check on her condition. She hasn't deteriorated, but she doesn't seem responsive yet either. You give her another bag of saline, check that she has no fever and leave the room again.

***********

Shane returns with Lori, the woman has been in a car accident on her way to pick up Rick, but she's fine, just a few scratches, but Shane is worried about the condition of her baby. You are all speechless as you didn't know the woman was pregnant. Still you tend to her wounds without saying anything, she is once again angry with Shane because he brought her all the way there saying Rick was already back, you have to admit you are thankful he lied to her and brought her home early.

"Rick will be back soon." You try to calm her down. "As soon as they find Hershel they'll be back here."

She doesn't say anything, now she's busier thinking about what she's going to tell Carl, since he's also heard she's expecting a baby and like the others, he didn't know either. You leave the family alone and walk back out of the house needing to calm down, that new world is playing on your nerves at all times. From a distance you can see Carol talking to Daryl, or rather they seem to be arguing, you frown not knowing what is going on, but you see her turn around, heading back towards the house and Daryl just stands there, as if he doesn't know what to do.

The next morning Rick, Glenn and Hershel return to the farm, there is some relief, but they are not at ease. With them they bring a young man and he has a shattered leg.

"My God..." You gasp at the sight of him.

"I'm going to need your help." Hershel asks you and you don't hesitate to go into the house with him.

No one knows who that boy, Randal, or what he's doing there, there are nerves and tension, stress in the main room of the huge house, Daryl enters too, his gaze crosses Carol's, but he avoids it focusing on Rick, waiting to know what's going to happen, what they're going to do with that boy.

His leg is not going to recover, he will suffer a severe limp for the rest of what's left of his life. Rick wants to take him away, release him where necessary and go back to the farm. Shane wants to kill him and you can't listen anymore, you are not able to understand how they are hesitating on what to do. You are not able to understand how Rick can even entertain the idea of killing him. You leave the house feeling short of breath. Your hands on your knees, breathing in sharply as you feel a hand on your back. You lift your head and see Daryl next to you.

"Breathe...are ya okay?"

"No... this is crazy..."

"It's the world we live in now." He tries to sound calm, obvious. "We dunno if that kid is with anyone, his buddies shot Rick and the others, they left him there... they ain't clean wheat and if they came all the way out here..."

"But he's just a kid, he's..." You swallow remembering Miguel, the young man from the asylum. "I can't believe they're thinking of killing him..."

"Ya said ya had had to fight in the asylum, that they had killed yer companions... we just wanna defend ourselves..." He tries to make you understand and you really do, he's right, your hands are stained too. But that doesn't mean it hurts any less. "Look at me." He holds your chin. "Look at me." He urges you and you look at him sideways. "Trust Rick, he'll make the right decision." He promises you and you sigh.

"Okay..." You whisper and feel his hand stroking your hair.

"Come with me." He asks you, he holds your hand and pulls you, leading you away from the farm, before you leave the grounds you see him pick up an axe and that confuses you more.

You go into the forest again, you continue without saying anything, following his footsteps, his hand still holding yours while the axe is still resting on his shoulder until he stops in front of some trees.

"What are we doing here?" you can't stay quiet any longer.

"It's an Ash tree." He explains picking up one of the branches on the ground and hands it to you. You're still not sure, but playing with the branch in his hand you feel it light and supple.

"So what?"

"Said ya wanted to make a bow for the kids and maybe Carol, right? Besides we could use more arrows...this wood will help us."

"D-Do you think it's a good idea to get all this stuff ready...having what we have on the farm?" you're excited, you can't deny it, the idea of having more arrows and other bows to train with, you like it, but that boy, Randal, his life is hanging in the balance right now.

Daryl gives you a sidelong glance, doesn't respond, just shakes his shoulders and starts cutting one of the branches. You step aside and let him work. Daryl cuts three fairly large branches in addition to picking up several medium sized branches from the ground, most likely for arrows.

"Do you know how to make bows?" You dare to ask.

"It can't be too complicated, besides I'm sure Hershel can leave us some tools."

"Do you think he'll let us stay after what he's been through?"

"Right now he doesn't have much choice." He looks at you reaching for the axe to pull a rope out of his back pants pocket and bends down to tie the branches together.

You have to admit you like watching him work, you've always loved watching him busy, how focused he stays as he uses his hands and body for everything he does. You've always been mesmerized by him.

As you return to the house with the wood, Rick is waiting for you on the porch, his face reflects some confusion and curiosity, but he pushes it aside to approach the archer.

"Daryl, I need you to come with me for a moment."

"Have you decided what to do about Randal?" You ask as Daryl sets the wood down.

"Not yet, but I need you to find out more about his group, how many they are, if they could be a threat..."

"Sure, count on it." He turns to you. "Go to the camp, then I'll help ya with the arrows." He promises you.

You're not quite sure if you want to know what Daryl is going to do to find out more about Randal's group, but you obey by taking the branches he has carried there and head to the camp, the rest are moving towards the Greene's house, apparently the man is allowing them to stay closer, even inside the house, after what happened in the barn and knowing that there are dangerous people outside, Hershel has changed his opinion a bit about the outside world.

Anyway you stay in the camp, near the small fire that had not yet been extinguished. You leave the wood you've gathered there starting to sharpen the tip of one of the small branches, you're not quite sure what you're doing, but you remember Daryl doing something similar when you were younger so you work at it until the hunter returns from wherever Rick sent him. Soon you feel like you have an audience watching what you're doing. You look up to discover Sophia and Carl with you and smile.

"They won't let us hear what they're talking about..." Carl explains to you with some frustration.

"Some things you're better off not knowing... this world is getting crueler than it already was..."

"Do you think that boy is bad?"

"I don't know, but his companions may not be kind, that's what Rick is afraid of, he doesn't want anyone to hurt you and possibly doesn't want Hershel's family to suffer any more either, so he'll do whatever it takes to keep them away."

"Will he kill him?" Carl asks without hesitation and you feel goosebumps rise on your skin. These kids are growing up with no real childhood and you find that sad.

"I don't know, Carl, Daryl said your father would know what he would have to do...so I trust him."

"You and Daryl know each other a lot." Sophia says again. "Has he always been... like that?"

"He's always been particular." You can't help a chuckle. "But you don't have to be afraid of him, he barks a lot, but he doesn't bite." You promise them and they laugh quietly, with you.

You adore those kids.

You have finished several arrows, to your way of thinking they are not as bad as you had first thought, your gaze then detects movement near you, Sophia and Carl are getting up, Daryl is coming back, the group has gathered outside the house. You stop what you are doing and get up also going towards them to hear what Daryl has to say.

"They're a group of thirty or so. Women and men." He explains as he stands next to Rick. "They ain't looking to expand their numbers, if they show up here, the men, they'll kill us and the women..." He clenches his jaw, suddenly you feel his gaze fall on you. "They would rather be dead..."

"Let them try..." You roar, clenching your fists tightly.

"No one is going to come and do anything to us." Rick assures. "I'll take Randal away from here, tied up, without him seeing, without him hearing anything. He won't be able to come back." 

"Rick, that's dangerous." Try to talk some sense into him, Daryl.

"We have to take him out." Shane continues and again you feel goosebumps rise on your skin. "He's not one of ours, you heard what Daryl said, they'll come after us and kill us."

"I said no! We'll get him out of here, you, Shane, come with me. The rest of you make sure the whole perimeter is okay, make sure there's nothing and no one around, protect this place." 

You feel relief, a certain joy vibrating inside you, but still you try to keep a cool head, Rick wants to take Shane with him, there's something about that plan that you don't like as it's too unstable.

"Daryl..." You approach your friend. "I think you should..." You shut up then as you notice his raw knuckles. "W-what?"

"I've done what I had to do..." He says matter-of-factly, his knuckles bothering him, but he ignores the stinging pain.

"God... come here, let me look at that." You ask, taking his hand. He doesn't protest, just lets himself be guided to the fire where you were preparing the arrows and you have him sit down as you pull the disinfectant and a clean handkerchief from your pack to clean his wounds.

"It's always been like this, hasn't it?" he asks in a soft voice. "Me in trouble...yer sister and ya savin' my ass."

"Oh well... I remember you weren't the only one." You smile being careful with her hand. "You had to save my ass sometime too." You chuckle softly when you hear him snort.

"Because ya had shitty boyfriends." You can't even contain the violent laughter that escapes you, nor look offended. "Why did ya always gotta get the most complicated guys?"

"It's not like I ask for their resumes before I go out with them." You shrug and let go of his hand. 

Daryl watches you put things away as he looks around discovering several arrows lying on the ground, they're not finished, but he has to admit you're doing a good job.

He bends down picking up one of them, he brushes the tip of his finger against the sharpest part checking to make sure it really is.

"How did I do?" you look at him curiously. "I wasn't too sure, but I remembered seeing you do it sometime when we were in our secret place and..."

"They ain't bad, they need to be given a little balance in the back, but we'll look for some feathers or some fur from a rabbit." He explains and hits you over the head with the small branch. "Ya were always doing that... watching and writing, weren't ya?" You look at him sideways not sure if he's saying it annoyed or just curious. "I never read anything ya wrote."

"Sorry to disappoint you, but I lost it all when this all started." You whisper and he chews his lip, but shakes his head.

"I'll get ya some paper and some pencil...ya can go back to writing."

"Thanks." You smile. "But what could I write now?"

"I dunno, maybe about this new world... maybe... write its history..." He shrugs and you look at him raising your eyebrows.

"That's a great idea, if you get paper and pen, I'll do it." You assure him. "But first I want you to show me how to finish those arrows and bows."

***************

.

To Be Continued...

.

.

Hope you liked it!

See you in the next chapters!

.

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

[scarfacewastaken]

Fun little mun meme for friends.

Name / Alias: BC/scarfacewastaken

Are you over 18? : Yes / No

– W R I T I N G –

Are you selective about who you write with? : No (anyone) / Semi (most people) / Yes (some people) / Highly (few people) / Private (mutuals only)

Are you selective about who you follow? : No (anyone) / Semi (most people) / Yes (some people) / Highly (few people)

If your muse is canon, how much do you adhere to canon? : Not at all / A little / Some / Mostly / Strictly / Not Applicable

What post lengths do you write? : One-Liners / Single-Para / Multi-Para / Novella / All of the aforementioned, especially banter.

Do you use icons and/or GIFS? : No / Gifs / Icons / Yes / Sometimes / Not yet, but I plan to.

Do you write on other platforms? : No / Yes

What level of plots do you write? : Unplotted / Open-Ended Plots / Semi-Plotted / Fully Plotted Epics / All of the aforementioned.

How quickly do you usually respond to threads? : Very Slow (more than a month) / Slow (3-4 weeks) / Average (1-2 weeks) / Fast (less than one week) / Very Fast (less than three days) / Depends on rl situations or mood.

What types of themes do you like? : Adventure / Romance / Fluff / Angst / Violence / Tragedy / Domestic / Family / All of the aforementioned

What genres do you like? : ( Feel free to add! ) High Fantasy / Supernatural / Science Fiction / Historical / Horror / Comedy / Romantic / Drama / Action / Smut (very selective) / Adventure / Espionage / Dark / Emotional / All of the aforementioned

Are there any themes you’re uncomfortable writing on your blog? : (Not triggers) No /

Yes / Sometimes

Do you have any triggers? Do you request it tagged? : No / Yes

I legit don't give a rats ass about triggers, just be respectful, but also.. TWD is not Disney. ;)

– S H I P P I N G –

What types of relationships are you open to? : Romantic / Platonic / Familial / All of the aforementioned

What types of pre-established relationships are you open to? : Romantic / Platonic / Familial / All of the aforementioned

Do you have OTPs? : No / Chemistry Only / Yes

Do you have NOTPS? : No / Yes

What is your muse’s sexual orientation? : Heterosexual / Heteroflexible / Bisexual / Pansexual / Homoflexible / Homosexual / Demisexual / Sapiosexual / Asexual /

What is your muse’s romantic orientation? : Heteroromantic / Heteroflexible / Biromantic / Homoflexible / Homoromantic / Panromantic / Demiromantic / Sapioromantic / Aromantic /

Are you comfortable writing smut? : No / Selectively / Yes

Under RM only.

How early in a relationship do you ship romantically? : Autoship / During plotting / After a couple IC interactions / Several IC interactions / Slow burn / Plot dependent / Never

Are you open to toxic ships? : No / Selectively / Yes /I am not sure

Are you open to problematic ships? : No / Selectively / Yes / I am not sure

Are you open to polyamory shipping? : No / Selectively / Yes / I am not sure

She would not last a DAY haa!

Are you an exclusive shipper? : Never / Sometimes (not currently but i'm not against it) / Yes

Does crack shipping ever happen? : Nope / Yes / Depends

Tagged by: @lxchadora

Tagging: @annestokes @couldawouldashouldaa @rickgrimesdoingrickthings @urbxnlegxnd @abject idk whoever wants to do it.

[whateverisbeautiful]

Reveling in Richonne

#177: The Unstoppable Life (11x24) 

Y’all, I can’t help it. I have got to revel in Richonne right quick. 😋 It hit me that we very much got a Richonne sequence at the end of the series finale and, as are the rules, if anything Richonne-related was recorded and released, I gots to analyze it. Even years later. The Richonne love never ends cuz they are the gift that keeps on giving. 💯

And boy were we blessed with Rick and Michonne’s first return to the franchise after years away. How absolutely perfect is it that this show ended on the two of them, Rick and Michonne’s impeccable unstoppable love, and their precious family! They’re the show’s heart and my heart, y’all. 

There’s a lot to react to in their final moments of TWD so, finally, it’s time for more reveling. Because our lovely Richonne is back!! Won’t He Do It! 

(Also I’m still extra years later when it comes to R&M so I thought I could do a brief reveling, especially since I’m rusty...but it still ended up being a 2-part dissertation 🫣🤗) 

R&M’s return was every last thing and it was wonderful to see them be the final note of the series as they prepare to bless us ten times over in a spinoff show further dedicated to them and their love. Like this is legit what dreams are made of. 🤩

So to start, while I completely stopped watching TWD shortly after Michonne left, I returned to watch the series finale with hopes of one thing and one thing only - seeing the return of our king and queen.  

And truly all it took was seeing them back on my screen for my brain to be consumed with this couple like old times. The hold they have on me lol. But how could you not adore the GOAT TV couple and this special love story that was incredible from beginning to “end.” 

Just when it was looking like the finale was about to close with Daryl riding off to his spinoff, a single match was lit. 😏And y’all what a glorious match it was. 

Finally, after years, we see him. Rick Grimes is back. And just the very first glimpse of his face had me rejoicing. 

Rick’s face is lit by a fire as he looks down and writes fervently to someone. And learning who he’s writing to - it’s perfect and it only makes sense for Rick’s return to the show to be so focused on Michonne. 

Then we see gorgeous Michonne also writing a letter by a fire. 

And seeing both of them back, this was legit my reaction the second Michonne and Rick were on screen...

And I love that they both look goodT, with a capital T at the end. 🤩 Like they both age like fine wine, and I know Rick won’t know what to do with himself seeing Michonne’s stunning new look, and Michonne’s gonna love that her handsome man’s curls are back lol. 

I also love the use of fire to tie Michonne and Rick’s final moments together. I’m sure there’s more eloquent symbolism to be drawn, but I just love the visual and the way it can feel like their actions (and their outfits) are still so in sync and aligned. They’re sharing this moment, even apart and in different time periods. And there’s so clearly a burning fire within them as well, as they continue to resolutely search and long for one another. 

It also just reminded me of a time when they really were together by a fire in the s4 finale. How far we’ve come in their journey since then ☺️ and how wonderful it’ll be when they’re finally together again.  

We start to hear bits and pieces of their letters, with Rick’s iconic voice beginning, “I think of the dead all the time,” as a montage plays of the many memorable characters throughout TWD. The first character shown is fittingly young Carl wearing the sheriff hat which is precious and emotional. 😭

Rick goes on to say he thinks about the living that he lost too, because he lost literally everyone when he was carted off on that helicopter. It’s so sad knowing it was all taken away from him so quickly without a single goodbye. But while he physically lost them, it’s clear they haven’t at all left his heart. 

Then Michonne’s sweet voice reads her letter to Judith and RJ about how she tried to get back to them “again and again,” but she’s too far for the radio. I adore the many layers of Michonne, with her Mama Michonne side being one of my favorites, so I’m glad that was spotlighted in the finale. 

Michonne then breaks my heart and warms it all at once when she states, “But I still got you and you got me. We’re connected. We’re still connected.” Y’all one thing about Danai, she never misses when it comes to perfectly delivering lines. Like sis makes the right choice every time in just how to capture the emotion behind the line. 

As she speaks, we see sweet flashback moments between her, Judith, and RJ. And truly, what a testament to the power of Michonne that amid all the trauma and loss after losing Rick and Carl, she still gave her kids a good life filled with love and smiles. 

The montage continues with more clips of past members of TF and one thing I noticed and appreciated is that the clips used for each character aren’t of them in action or being walker-slaying warriors, but rather quieter moments for each character, during times where the character might have most believed in hope and a future worth living. Such as Abraham looking at Maggie and Glenn’s sonogram. 

I feel using these type of flashback scenes was a subtle way to further emphasize the show’s final message about life and the living prevailing. Even if some of them are not literally living, their legacy and impact lives on and it was the simple, familial, human moments of their life that they’re remembered by. 

Rick says he thinks about them all everyday, which of course. Still the family man we know and love. I know some people were worried that after so many years Rick would be forced to move on or even start to have a foggy memory of his family, but that’s not Rick Grimes. I think even if Homeboy were to have literal amnesia he’d somehow still remember TF, and especially still remember and think about Michonne. 

I love knowing that while he’s been away, he’s held those he loves so close to his heart nonstop. And as his letter will further confirm, he’s not just thought about them but been fueled to keep going by them, and most of all by Michonne. 

Rick acknowledges how he thinks about what he learned from TF and how those in his life made him who he is, even more so than all the stuff he’s experienced while away. All these years away and still no one has been more impactful than the family he was taken from. 

I love Michonne saying, “We’ll always be together. Even when we’re apart. We together are the strongest thing.” That sentiment is why she’s still so connected to Rick all this time. 

And Michonne later shares the uplifting gospel truth, “We’re love. And love is endless. We are endless.” Amen. 

I also love Rick acknowledging “all of our lives becoming one life,” because one; he still feels so one with his family and two; he and Michonne’s lives really did become one and then created a life in RJ. 🥹

So then we get to the best part of these flashbacks. 

Because time-jump Rick finally looks up over the fire as if there’s one particular person he thinks of that most takes up his mind. One person whose memory he doesn’t just recall once or twice, but several times because he can’t stop thinking of her once he starts. 

And we don’t have to guess who he’s thinking about, who’s fueling him, because four different flashbacks of Michonne then come on screen and y’all…perfection. 

Very telling too that Rick and Michonne are the only ones to get four back to back flashbacks. It just so emphasizes their love, their importance, and them being the drive of this show and of each other’s lives. 

I love that Rick also emphasizes, “We’re together. Pieces of a whole that just keep going for what we gave each other,” as we get Michonne flashbacks. 

In Rick's mind, heart, and soul, he and Michonne are still together. They’re still one. Rick knows Michonne gave him the most valuable thing possible by giving him a love worth fighting for and a life worth living. That doesn’t die, regardless of distance. 

I love the choice of Michonne flashbacks too. They’re all sweet and significant in their own way. 

We first see Michonne arriving at the fence for her iconic entrance into Rick and TF’s life, which I still say is the most significant introduction between any two characters in TWD. It’s the unforgettable moment where R&M’s lives became intertwined and forever changed for the better.

Then it’s the always amazing s5 moment where Michonne places a comforting hand on Rick’s to ask if he’s ready to head into Alexandria for the first time. It’s pre-canon but still such a confirmation of how they’ve become partners that support, lean on, and encourage one another. 

Then it’s Michonne smiling and looking like a glowing mother in s9 while painting with Judith during one of the most calm and domestic times she and Rick got to enjoy. It’s joyously casual moments like that one that I know Rick wanted to live out for years to come with his Grimes girls. Moments like that morning are why life was still so worth living. 

And of course, there’s the special moment when Michonne and Rick first held hands over mints, where the rest was history and R&M never looked back nor held back their love for one another from then on. 

Rick’s letter then just gets better and better y’all. Because then he starts to get specific. This is when it becomes clear this letter isn’t just to anyone in TF but to Michonne directly. 👌

He states, “One unstoppable life. You showed me that.” 

And it’s just perfection and the utter truth. She really did show him that time and time again. It also reminds me of blessed 7x12 when Rick tells Michonne in the van how she led him. Rick always happily has taken to heart what Michonne says and shows him, and he still does here, miles and miles away This love story is something else, man. 🥹

I love that Rick and Michonne both believe so strongly that their resilient love is unstoppable and endless. It absolutely is. 

After Michonne’s flashbacks, we see current-day Michonne finally looking up, also reflecting on the man that still has her whole heart. 

And I especially love each of the four Rick flashbacks, especially one subtle s5 scene in particular that had me thrilled. 

Fittingly, they pair Michonne and Rick’s first hand hold in 6x10 with their last hand hold in 9x03. 

I love these hand holding visuals because it just illustrates how united they are and have always been. They’re always in it together, as both their letters reiterate. 

We get Rick’s reaction to Michonne at the fence in s3, as he takes in the woman that will change his world and become the love of his life. It’ll forever be gold. 

But then…y’all then!! The third Rick flashback is from season 5 where Rick is in his constable outfit and leaning against the wall. And y’all can I say why I love this!!

I immediately remembered this scene when I saw it return in the finale, and I knew this is when he’s staring at Michonne in her matching constable outfit.

This is a pre-canon moment but was still so clear that Rick had an attraction to his then-bestie, Michonne. And y’all this scene was during that one storyline-that-shall-not-be-named, so in my mind, using this scene in the final moments of TWD is just further confirmation that Michonne was always who Rick wanted. Always. 😌

And the final flashback of Rick, is him beaming up at Michonne during their romantic candle-lit dinner in the treasured 7x12 episode. The day he and her established they want the rest of their lives to be the two of them, “you and me.” And while a major curveball was thrown with Rick being taken, it’s clear they are still very much embarking on life the “you and me” way.  

Seeing that whole Rick and Michonne sequence I was like ‘did we really just get a Richonne fan edit at the end of TWD?’ #Blessed. 🤭 I love that every single one of their flashback moments were Richonne-related. And like I noted earlier, a lot of these flashbacks are from when the characters were at some of their most alive, happy, hopeful, and human. So of course all Rick and Michonne’s flashback scenes were with each other. 

The reading of the letters concludes with my favorite part, Rick saying “You gave me that.”

Y’all Rick is literally writing love letters to Michonne, telling her that she gave him life. 😭🥹🥰 Unstoppable life. #WeWon. 

And his statement is truer than he even realizes. (I promise you my heart will soar to another dimension when Rick learns about and meets RJ, his son, and the life he created with Michonne, cementing their love is truly endless.) 

Also I love how Rick is still trying to ensure that Michonne knows her impact. He did so right before he left in season 9 by thanking her for everything, and years later it’s still important to him that Michonne know all she’s given him. I love their never-ending love. 

And y’all while that ends the little letter overlap part. There is still more to take in. So you know my extra self has to do a part 2. 😁