#twd new haunts

[linusbenjamin]

The Walking Dead

3.04 "Killer Within"

[minimoefoe]

my troy fixation mostly leaving and being replaced by a fixation with endless content is truly the best christmas gift I coulda asked for like one thing about me is I'm gonna try my best to obsess over something that's current so it's not really a surprise that ftwd ending has made my troy obsession lessen slightly (tho he has appeared in my dreams two nights in a row now so...) and after spending like 7 months fixating on a character with barely any content the dw fixation returning is a solid development idk (tho i've been into things with far less content than troy has so it coulda been wayyyy worse, i remember being pleasently surprised at how many ppl were still posting about try despite him being dead 6yrs, and then ofc it picked up a bit once he was rumoured and confirmed to be alive with didnt happen too long after i got obsessed with him)

I do think tho that troy has become kinda a consistent interest of mine like twd became near the end of last year and like dw has been since 2019 like even tho I'm not thinking about him all day and likely have another fixation on the go, I can always go back to a bit of troy/ftwd content yknow I'm not abandoning it like I do with basically every other obsession I have except dw and twd

[cinemgc]

The Walking Dead (11ª Temp.)

Episodio 10: ''New Haunts''

• Dirección: Jon Amiel

• Guion: Magali Lozano

• Cinematografía: Duane Charles Manwiller

• Cast: Melissa McBride

[whatohitsonfirewelp]

It’s always the end of October beginning of November that I end up with the most out of this world news

[paintyoureyeswithavividmind]

close to home | chapter fifty three

close to home | chapter fifty three

plot: the reader and Daryl's relationship continues to develop as more time passes

series masterlist

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 2,111 Warnings: violence, blood, typical twd A/N: thank you for reading!!!

When you found out Rick wanted Daryl running the sanctuary for a little while, you wanted to give Rick a piece of your mind. But, as much as you hated to admit it, you knew that Daryl might be the only one that could. So you packed up yours and his belongings. Daryl asked you to stay behind, but you wouldn’t hear it. 

So you moved to the Sanctuary with him--leaving Tora with Michonne at Hilltop. It broke your heart to do so, but you didn’t fully trust what remained of the saviors, and Tora loved the Hilltop. Besides, with your new role, you’d see her often enough. 

Rick wanted you in every community as his eyes and ears. So you would start to rotate around. At first, you tried to refuse, but after everything, you knew the communities needed it, and Rick needed to know what was happening. So you’d spend a few days at Hilltop, then the Kingdom--which you didn’t mind so much after being there for ten minutes--and then back at Alexandria, helping to get the place back together. Then you’d return to the Sanctuary for over a week and start again. 

You hated not being with Daryl and leaving him with just Eugene and Rosita. But you got used to it after a while, and when you did return, it made being with him even more special. And having sex with him after being apart for two weeks was enough to keep you both up all night. 

Slowly, fall changed to winter and then winter into spring. Things got better between the communities, but the Sanctuary wasn’t improving. Nothing grew there, and there was a lot of resentment. You begged Daryl to ask Rick for a break, but he always refused. His stubbornness was something you both loved and hated about him. 

The end of spring neared too quickly, and summer came in full swing.

Maggie had her baby, and you were there to help her through the birth. It was a little boy who she named Hershel. You cried with her and held the baby until you started crying again. After that, you spent extra time at Hilltop and made Daryl take a small break to meet him. 

But things were getting worse at the Sanctuary, and when you arrived back for the first time in two weeks, you knew Daryl needed you with him. Though it’s been under a year and a half since the saviors were defeated, you knew Daryl was still haunted by it. And being at the Sanctuary didn’t help. 

Eugene was the first to greet you, and you hugged him as he told you about what was happening. You heard someone yelling your name, and when you turned, you saw Frankie running up to you. 

“Hi!” You exclaimed, welcoming her hug. Like always, she hugged you tight for a few seconds before backing away. 

“I didn’t think you’d be back so soon; how’s Maggie’s baby?”

“He’s beautiful,” You mused, “He is happy and healthy. How are you? Where’s Amber?”

“She’s probably with her new boyfriend. I’ll have to tell you about it later. I missed you.”

You smiled and grabbed her arm. “I missed you, too. I gotta go see Daryl, but I’ll find you later, and we’ll catch up.”

She gave you one last hug before she bid you goodbye. 

Besides Daryl, Rosita was the one you spent the most time with at the Sanctuary. And she smiled widely when she saw you. 

“I thought we lost you to the farmwork and that little nephew of yours,” She teased you as you walked into the ground level. 

“And miss out on your company, Rosita?” You nudged her arm. “If I didn’t see your face every day, I think I’d go mad.”

“Oh, get out of here.” 

You laughed and headed towards the impromptu garage, where you knew you’d find Daryl. If he wasn’t with you or yelling at some asshole savior, he was there, working on motorcycles. What used to be a maze to you wasn’t anymore, and you found your way there quickly. 

Daryl was precisely where you knew he would be. The garage was empty; you knew it was because everyone was getting ready for the upcoming corn harvest. You crept up to Daryl and covered his eyes with your hands. 

“Guess who?” You laughed. He grabbed your hands and pulled them away before standing up and hugging you. You laughed louder and wrapped your arms around his neck. “I missed you, too.”

“Gone for too long this time,” Daryl told you as he pulled away. He pressed a light kiss onto your lips twice and then a third. “Ya gotta tell Maggie she can take care of Hershel without ya,” 

You laughed and leaned up to kiss him again. “I’ll let her know that.” Then you walked around to see the bike he was working on and smiled when you saw the spray-painted muffler. “I see my bike is coming along great. It’s even in my favorite color.”

Daryl grunted with a nod and knelt next to it, grabbing whatever part he was using in the first place. “Sit on it, woulda ya?”

“The bike or you? I’d much prefer you.”

“Shut the hell up, and sit down, crazy girl.”

You laughed as you sat on the bike, keeping it balanced so he didn’t have to get so low under the parts. You ruffled his hair and heard him sigh with annoyance. Then you leaned down and kissed the top of his head. “You’re getting to be such a grump in your old age.”

Daryl looked up at you. “Ya done? Ya the one fuckin’ an old man.

“Don’t tease me with a good time, Dixon.”

He snorted and shook his head, “Ya gonna be the death of me. Why don’ ya just start talkin’ ‘bout everythin’ ya wanna tell me. Might as well start, gonna be yappin away all day.”

You tugged his hair as your revenge for the comment and smiled when he swatted your hand away. “Okay, okay. If you insist, I will tell you all about everyone.”

So you did, and you told him how the Hilltop was doing, how Maggie and the baby were. You told him about your brief visit to Oceanside just to drop off some neighborly gifts and then how Kingdom was. You gossiped about the budding romance between Carol and Ezekiel, but how the latter seemed keen on declining every mention of marriage-which, you admitted, you only knew about it because you were eavesdropping to get more dirt on them anyway. 

“Alexandria is doing well; they’ve really built it up nice. And Judith is talking. She is so adorable,” You mused, playing with Daryl’s hair as he worked. “She painted you a picture. You and Rick have matching big bellies, according to her. Maybe you should come with me. It’ll be nice of you to see them. You haven’t been in a few weeks. She asked me all about you.”

Daryl looked up at you, tossing his wrench aside. “I still don’ like the idea of you out there alone.”

“I’m fine,” You brushed his hair back to see his entire face. “And once my handsome old man fixes my bike, it’ll be even faster than the horse.”

“Maybe if ya didn’ crash it,”

You waved him off and slowly stood up from the bike. “Yeah, well, shit happens. Eugene told me there would only be another week or so before harvest. Summer’s nearly over again.”

“Still hot as hell.”

You nodded and walked over to him, grabbing his greasy hands and seeing the black grease smudge against your skin. Then you looked up at him and wiped the grease off his cheek. “You look tired, honey.”

He sighed and pressed his forehead against yours. “Don’ know how much more I can do this for. Wanna be with ya out there, wanna see my family.”

“I’ll talk to Rick. I’ll tell him that I want you out there with me. The walkers are clustering up again and I need you with me.”

“I-.”

You shook your head. “You’ve done enough for him. I love Rick, and I know you do too, but this was an unfair ask, and you’ve been here almost eighteen months. You deserve to rest.”

Daryl kissed your forehead, and you knew that was his way of agreeing to it because he’d never speak the words out loud. 

“Why don’t we go find Rosita and get dinner? I wanna hear about all the shit you’ve been up to since I’ve been gone.”

“Oh, forgot to yell ya, found your machete. Some asshole here had it; it’s in our room.”

***

You sent a message to Rick that you’d be staying at the Sanctuary through the upcoming harvest, which he agreed to and thanked you for your help. So you spent the next few weeks with Daryl, Rosita, and Eugene and helped in every way you could. Harvesting was the worst, and some of you wanted to run off to Alexandria to play with Judith all day.

Daryl had initially picked out the room that once belonged to you, which you had no issues with. It was easy enough to shake the memories from your head after the time passed, and being there with Daryl made everything easier. It was like he replaced every lousy memory with a good one. 

So when you walked into the room after spending the evening with Frankie and Rosita, a little tipsy, you were more than happy to see Daryl against the counter, eating. 

“Hey sexy,” You said, closing the door behind you. 

“Ya drunk?”

“A little,” You laughed, taking off your shoes and walking over to him. You wrapped your arms around his lower waist and set your head against his chest. “It was so fun with the girls. I miss them when I’m gone.” You smiled. 

Daryl kissed the top of your head. “Ya smell like wine.”

“I spilled,” You said, backing up and pointing at the stain on the bottle of your shirt. “Luckily, not too much, though."

Daryl laughed and set his late dinner down, “Come on, why don’ ya change and get ready for bed.”

You did as he said, taking one of the old shirts you kept here and then collapsed next to him on the bed. “I hate harvesting. We should run away.”

“Yeah? Where we goin’?”

“An island, just me and you. We can be all alone to do whatever the hell we want,” 

Daryl grabbed your hand and pressed a kiss to your palm. “Not a bad idea, darlin’."

You smiled and rolled over, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “I love this shoulder…” You yawned. 

He snorted, “Ya’ll have a whole bottle?”

You giggled and looked up at him. “Frankie knew where ratface liked to hide shit.” The two of you had devised a nickname for the man who’d made both your lives hell, though you were the only ones you said it to. 

Daryl chuckled and moved, “Come on, in bed."

“You’re no fun,” You whined.

But you did as he asked anyway because you always did. And besides, the bed was soft and comfortable, and he let you wrap yourself up in his arms the moment his head hit the pillow. 

“Gonna have Eugene call Alexandria tomorro’, was thinkin’ we should make a run into the city, that museum gotta have some shit we can use. Was lookin’ at some books.” Daryl told you as he absentmindedly played with your hair. 

You pressed your hand flat against his chest, “That’s a good idea. You’re so fucking smart,” You mumbled as you looked up at him, just in time to watch him shake his head. “You are. You know so many things. You’ve taught me so many things.”

“Like what?”

You propped yourself up on your elbow and cupped his cheek. “You’ve taught me how to track and helped me get better at hunting. You taught me fighting skills and how to use my bow and arrow even though Carol stole it from me. And you taught me about motorcycles when you talk about them while working.” You rambled on and on. 

Daryl stared at you, the corners of his lips just barely tilted up. “Ya just sayin’ stuff 'cause ya drunk.”

“I’m not even that drunk, just a little tipsy.” You leaned down and kissed his cheek. “But we should get drunk together one day; that would be fun.”

Daryl made you lie back down. “Any chance of ya stayin’ home if we go to the city?”

You shook your head, “No way.”

[greatfandom]

Daryl Dixon Re-blog Masterlist ;)

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Baby Talk - Daryl x Reader by Ficnation

Never Do This Again by Attentionplease 18+

How Much Can Ya Take? by Attentionplease 18+

Happy Birthday Smut - The Lake - Attentionplease 18+

You shouldn't have follow me! by attentionplease 18+

Handjob - Daryl Dixon by attentionplease 18+

Blowjob - Daryl Dixon by Attentionplease 18+

(Pre-apocalyptic) Daryl Dixon - Hangover by Attentionplease 18+

Fluff Alphabet - Daryl Dixon Attentionplease

Ya should've told me by Attentionplease 18+

Kink - Sensory deprivation by attentionplease 18+

Kink Edging - Daryl Dixon by attentionplease 18+

NSFW Alphabet Daryl Dixon by Attentionplease 18+

untitled by daryl-dixon-daydreams

Don't Leave me Daryl Dixon by sickoherd

How TWD Characters Adapt to the real world again by matstwd

untitled by daryl-dixon-daydreams

my breath of fresh air part four by duckmania127

You Deserve My Love by Madstwd 18+

Father's Day by theteasetwrites

I just ride - episode 2: writer by dreamdaryl

untitled by sublimecatgalaxy

untitled by sublimecatgalaxy

shades of cool by svtts

nosebleeds by yourbiggestfear88 18+

untitled by duckmania127

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Adult Toys and Lace by Madstwd 18+

untitled by daryl-dixon-dayreams

Panic Attack by Madstwd

Our Past. by littlegodzilla 18+

A New life - Daryl Dixon x reader by noellawrites

Fearless Pt 1 - Daryl Dixon x reader

Scars and sitches, Ch 8: Well, shit. by minervadashwood

untited by minervadashwood

untitled by aceswritingcase

The caged animal - Part 1 by onlydarylnormanfic

the caged animal - Part 2 by onlydarlnormanfic

Always in My way by onlydarylnormanfic 18+

First time by onlydarylnormanfic 18+

Wattpad Recommends #1 (Daryl Dixon x OC) 18+

Untitled by daryl-dixon-daydreams

taken by daryl-dixon-daydreams

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Heels by green-eyedladywrites 18+

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untitled by daryl-dixon-daydreams

friends with(out) benefits by writings-of-a-British-fangirl

Spagetti & wildflowers by darylsgirl

Afraid of something Daryl Dixon x reader by dnaddymaro

untitled by sublimecatgalaxy

That damn dress by madstwd

Fight the dead; fear the living by milkywaybottles

Warmth by thejuniperoffcial

Broken Trust by sourwolf-sterek32

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Part of the fun is possibly getting caught by madstwd 18+

Vis a vis by littlegodzilla

I was claimed by daryl fucking dixon by darylsgirl 18+

The farmers daughter by darylsgirl 18+

He's just like the sun by darylsgirl 18+

He's just like the sun part 2 by darylsgirl 18+

There ain't no competition Darlin by darylsgirl 18+

You know you want this by darylsgirl 18+

Spaghetti & wildflowers Part two by darylsgirl

I will not kiss you by partlystiles

You snooze, you loose by green-eyedladywrites

When the water is cold, you make it hot by madstwd 18+

one and only by green-eyedladywrites 18+

Ask me again by anyotherwriter

Back me by magicalqueennightmare

The last man by green-eyedladywrites 18+

your day by bartxnhood

untitled by sweetpeapod

My sanctuary by green-eyedladywrites  

side by side by magicalqueenightmare

miscommunication by magicalqueennightmare

here's to the future by magicalqueennightmare

untitled by sweetpeapod

Squirrels by green-eyedladywrites

Scars and stitches, chapter 25 by minervadashwood

Always in my way by onlydarylnormanfic 18+

invictus by heliophobek

lie to me by the-artistic-animal

untitled by daryl-dixon-daydreams

magic by green-eyedladywrites

you found me by darylsgirl

your name. by littlegodzilla

that was close by moonwritesblog

from the beginning by sleepywriter84

haunting memories by madstwd

darling, won't you talk with me? by dixonlvr-online

absence makes the heart grow fonder by dixonlvr-online

untitled by sublimecatgalaxy

bubbles by green-eyedlady writes 18+

lucky charm by dixonlvr-online

shot in the dark by cultofdixon

a close call by holdmytesseract

The grimes girl by green-eyedladywrites

conversations -daryl dixon by collecting-stories

love like this by pastanest

my boy by fosterspalaceofstories

untiled by dixonsquirrels

untiled by daryl-dixon-daydreams

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untitled by sublimecatgalaxy

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kisses in bed by mehidktbh

pretty in pink by ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused

reunited at last by moonwritesblog

I'll do anything for you even if you won't love me back by crazylilad

restless sleeper by dixonlvr-online

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[thegratefulsouth]

Alright I have just finished Season 1 of TWD DD and I have thoughts and questions and feelings. And energy!

I am very new to this fandom, and while I've done some searches in places, I'll still just apologise in advance for being repetitive and missing stuff. I will miss stuff every time.

I'll get Laurent out of the way, and even though it's all connected for me, the rest is Caryl.

#1 So Laurent. I have questions about his ability to see into the future. He was convinced Daryl would survive the Gladiator battle, he knew they'd all end up back together. Is this a real thing? Is it coincidence in faith? The drawing I don't care about, I'm not sure how involved he is with the manipulations, but he should definitely be able to feel that this is happening with Isabelle, given his empathic nature. So in that case, does he sense there is a reason to go along with her ways, for a future purpose we don't know about yet.

The empathic thing:

Episode 1, he says to Daryl "You're homesick. I see it in your eyes. I feel things. In my stomach. I feel your sadness." Episode 5, he tells Madame Genet that she isn't angry; her heart is broken.

He can distinguish sadness between heartbreak and homesickness- these are very specific feelings. Are there more examples? Not sure when I'll be able to watch it back. Is this significant? Is there a point to this? Is he going to make the match? Is he going to be overwhelmed by Carol's grief and guilt, though hopefully she'll just be happy and relieved when he meets her (hopefully!!).

"Daryl why don't you just kiss Carol like she wants you to?"

What are the rules around this? I don't know how it works.

#2 Second up! The boats. Is there any evidence that any of the boats have any significance? I know they probably just make sense with the location and the storyline, etc. But when Laurent cuts the boat loose, Daryl is losing his most immediate TANGIBLE lifeline to Carol and that is because a BOAT has drifted. A boat.

Okay, and also, I was thinking about this on my long drive to work this morning and I swear to the husks of dust on my Jim Shore Dorothy and Glinda figurine, Spotify threw THIS song I've never heard before at me. Yes, PIRATE song. Pirate song by mehro. But dear god the lyrics.

"Are you ready to let me in?"

"I've been trying to believe what I said is what I need."

This is such a haunting, beautiful song. I'm so thrilled to discover this artist. I'm not immune to dissolving into a puddle on the side of the road when I hear a new song that spins me out. I feel things so intensely. I'm going to do a post just for this song. This song is Caryl to me.

#3 Daryl's longing for Carol in a ramble:

I like the connection between Daryl saying "I have family back home," and Carol in the teaser clip saying Daryl is the only family she has left. It feels like a string, tying them together. Feels like they're on the same damn boat. Emotionally.

I just want to touch on the name dropping Who Are Your Friends scene with Laurent. Even though I have no idea whether this scene is supposed to have any significance or if it's just supposed to be a simple moment of connection for these two. Regardless, it is significant. Every second beyond about a week just is. So to touch on Laurent again, I'm just wondering is it possible that Daryl's a little guarded here, because he knows the kid's intuitive? Does he feel like he needs to be more careful with his emotions? He's already elevated. But he says Connie's name really easily. It's easy for him to say her name and I think that says a lot. He's trying to connect with the kid, so of course Judith and RJ pop up. Daryl got himself started, and there's a very slight gap, while he's thinking before he offers up Ezekiel. That's where he should say Rosita but she's gone, or Aaron (but too much missage? Their bond), Michonne's not there! Oh, Ezekiel! They were starting to get along? They had a hug and everything? I don't know. I like the link between Connie and Ezekiel though. Anyway Daryl has to say Carol because she is his heartbeat, so he manages to get that out and then he stops. No more names.

Laurent says they sound nice and is Daryl's response a little defensive? Even though Laurent's just a kid, he's a little intense. Daryl says, "Yeah, how do you know?"

I think that's interesting. Like he's shared as much as he's comfortable sharing and then he wants to bundle his family back up again. It's painful to talk about Carol because he misses her and he promised her and she cried when he left and she is his soulmate. She's a little too precious and valuable to be spoken about by someone who hasn't even met her.

Alrighty now I need to go find some gifs for that song post.

[itsgrimeytime]

Magnolia in May (Part Nine) || Rick Grimes (TWD) x Greene!f!reader Regency AU

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8...

Taglist: @loliakeoghan23 @belaballs @curlycarley

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration (in honor of Speak Now Taylor's Version): Enchanted by Taylor Swift

Summary: Your town was small, not the smallest you knew, but anyone of high fortune was the gossip of the week. Predictably, Richard Grimes was a thing of whispers -rumors of a search for marriage among the grassy hills. You weren't one to buy into town gossip, but something about him... just seemed a little too intriguing.

TWS: secrets, crying, confrontation, insecurities, and yelling (more so emotionally stressed words).

[[A/N: y'all ready for this one? I don't think so besties. Repeat after me, FAMILY DRAMA!!! Confrontation beyond belief in a very regency-accurate way. So... Thanks for reading :)) ]]

You don't know how long you stayed there, by the letters, the notes, the envelopes -staring at them as if their words would change. Their intentions would change.

The notes, the letter- It all seemed too much then, as you detailed each date, trying to confirm that he was still waiting, that you had a chance. That you had a choice.

And you heard the door -it was the only thing that shook you out of your state -rereading each one with a sort of hope that only diminished as you continued to think of it. The dates were haunting your head, as you tried to scour if you'd remembered any noise of Lori leaving the estate, or any news of reconciliation for that matter-

But it was of no consequence, as if any such gossip existed your close companions wouldn't have told you so. You were treated as a rather fragile doll, for good reason, but still, the idea of everyone teetering around you so tediously did not feel good.

You'd found Maggie even hesitant to discuss any of the happenings with Mr. Rhee, you always had to prod them out of her. It wasn't that she wasn't wishing to share, more so it was she didn't want to brag -to hurt you. It was a sweet notion, but made you feel as though you were stuck out like a sore thumb -not as involved with your sisters' lives as you once were. It stung the wound you'd already held.

"Y/N, darling," Headmistress started -loud and arrogant, ready to talk your ear off as she always was, "-you will simply not believe what the Henningtons were wearing out! In broad daylight-"

Suddenly, her eyes landed upon you -in a right state, and her mouth opened to speak, eyebrows furrowed in concern. Something in you bit at the concern she showed, as she had most directly been meddling in your life and now, now you weren't even sure you could fix it.

She stood rather frozen in the entryway, detailing the very chaos you'd slipped onto the table -torn paper and messy stacks. Just before she could speak though, her eyes caught on the envelopes -her own handwriting sticking out brightly for her to see. She was caught, and something in you glowered with the knowledge.

"Beth, dear, go to your room."

Beth, who had peeked her head around the door merely stalled upon the paper -a sort of guilt flickering through her blue eyes that almost made you forgive her for sending the letters right there. And despite the orders, she stayed rather still. Expectant.

"Beth-" Headmistress repeated, but you couldn't let her continue -heart vulnerable, thrown out onto the table, you had to know why.

"How long?"

"Y/N, please-" she echoed rather composed but you saw something shrink underneath her skin -pride maybe, "-don't make this matter so public. Let's wait for Beth to-"

"How long?"

Your Headmistress sighed -a deep, disappointed sigh, and motioned to the mess on the table, "I believe you know that."

"Well," you tilted -voice shaky and cracked but still with power, with feeling, "-let's say I wish to hear it from you. How long?"

"I've rather lost count," she responded, pulling herself into a chair -sort of a deep defeated sort of air around her, "-but I believe since the day you went to his estate. And, every few days since."

"Is this-" you echoed, holding the stack close to your chest (you'd put them in your ribs right next to your heart if you could), "-Is this all of them?"

"Yes," she answered, directly, "-unless we are to receive one today. That is the lot of them."

"You believe," you started -a sort of broken sob in between what you could say, "-You believe he's still sending them?"

"Darling," Headmistress spoke -openly and vulnerably, "-I'd very much doubt those are his last effort."

"How could you know that?" you spoke -incredulously, "You've kept me from even responding, how do I not know that the time has passed that you have rui-"

"He was there," Beth suddenly spoke, eager to help -something in you softened at the effort, "-at the, at the shops. He was there."

You stopped, "What...? Did he-"

She cut you off, rushing up to your side -blue eyes sparkling in a way you found rather endearing (realizing this was her way of fixing something you weren't half as bothered by), "All he spoke of was you, asked if you were well. He was worried, I could tell. Followed us around through the markets. When Headmistress wasn't looking, he... he thanked me for-"

"Sending the letters," you finished, smoothing your face into one of ease -you didn't wish her to worry, "-I know. The courier is a bit of a tattle."

Beth smiled, big and bright, with a sort of natural ease wrapping you in her arms -it was a touch awkward, just because of the height difference. But you found you didn't mind. Something in you clicking back into place, fixed.

"Headmistress," you spoke through a few sniffles and a dry throat, "-did you... did you read them?"

She seemed a bit surprised at the question -face flickering between a few movements, "No, I- I didn't wish to. I thought it was best. If I wouldn't let you, why should I? I'd heard from the papers the story and wasn't going to let smooth words offer your heart on a platter. I suppose I... I supposed I made a rather quick assumption."

"Would you?" you asked -open and genuine, "-Would you read them?"

"I suppose, if you wish me to, I wouldn't have a reason not to."

"Thank you," you answered, simply, before your head got a treacherous idea -a terrible one really, but time was not on your side, "-I... Do you think he's still there? At the markets?"

"Frankly, dear," the Headmistress said rather bluntly -gently carding through the paper you'd ever-so-gently handed her, "-I'm surprised he's not at our front door."

"He is," Beth answered, rather quickly -as the two of you turned to match her, "-I go to the library some evenings to... to gather my new read, and I sit at the rather large window. If no book interests me, I often people watch to pass the time, but I-" she regains focus, "-I've seen him. He stays rather long at the market, particularly at a single stall-"

Something clicked in you then, as you whispered (hope sparking up your soul so fervently it nearly burned), "Mr. Elliotts.'"

"The fruit stall?" Headmistress asked -rather judgementally, "-surely not. That man is-"

She stopped, staring at you -dark eyes broke open, vulnerable, and a sort of understanding smoothing over her features -something of guilt tinged her tone, "It's where you met, isn't it?"

"It is," you exhaled, tears biting at your eyes but something of a smile urging across your lips. You felt as if you'd giggle soon enough, you surely must've looked deranged to anyone else, but Headmistress understood.

"Oh, darling," she echoed -somewhat of happy tears choking up her throat as well, "-you're falling in love with him, aren't you?"

"At this point," you laughed, a sort of unbelievable surge of giddiness brushing along your skin, "-I'm nearly finished."

"Oh, this is surely wonderful," Headmistress stood -fanning desperately at her face, impatiently, "-darling, let's go. Up, up! You cannot greet the man looking as you do. Beth, come. She must be stunning-"

"Headmistress, I really-"

"Nonsense, darling," she interrupted you, already tugging your hair loose, "-let Ms. Elisa do her magic, yes?"

It was a strangely quick process, you found. Merely a few moments were spent tying your hair up and away and the most were spent choosing the dress -she'd been persistent on a casual sort of tone. Something light and airy, one you'd happily wear around the residence - "As if you'd never changed at all." Even going as far as pulling a few framing hairs loose and keeping your frustratingly pink cheeks natural.

After it all, you were essentially shoved out the door -hearing the metal drag of the lock behind you.

You'd felt quite odd as if you were floating -stalled in place, as the evening sun settled across your skin. The idea of approaching him wasn't as disconnected as it was mere seconds ago when it had only been a connection through paper -when it hadn't quite been real.

Even standing here, you could see the bustle of people from the markets -women holding new purses, men brandishing new coats, and children playing with new toys. The flow of the crowd was directly from the center of stalls -a wonderous sort of buzz to and fro.

With a deep breath, you started upon the road -legs guiding you as your heart beat ever so loudly in your chest. It was as if you were the only one on the street, all sound drowning out other than the thrum of your pulse -a sort of sense of calm and anxiety rattling against your skull. Your feet were naturally guided, this path was so in tune with you -it was one you'd harbor you could follow in your sleep, it was so familiar.

Feet paddling against the pavement, you made your way to the stalls -it was rather unfamiliar in the evening light, but somehow far more beautiful than it was in the mornings. The beautiful tinge of orange swallows the wood of each stall and the storefronts reflect the tone wondrously -something you could find ever so slightly put you at ease. Slowing your heart, you trailed to the center of the plaza -watching as groups slid past -eyes peered for someone you yearned to finally see again.

Thoughts echoing in your head, loud and brash, what if I'm too late? What if he had lost hope? What if he wasn't here? Did you have the guts to attend to the estate?

Sure, you were invited but at this point in time, you weren't sure you'd be welcomed. The idea was so far from tangible, much like the idea that he'd ever choose you -you could barely grasp it now, but the idea that you may have missed it? Would leave you more desolate than you think could ever be fixed -especially after the letter, and the notes.

Your eyes swung across the square, feet leading you far ahead than where your mind was -searching desperately, hoping.

What if he was gone? you suddenly thought -a flurry of anxious words, hope snuffing out as you roamed closer and closer, What if this was it? Could you even-

And then, you saw him.

Stood just by Mr. Elliotts' stall -a basket of fruit teetering on his arm, as he seemed focused on the man, lost in one of his stories. You'd imagine you'd already heard it and briefly wondered perhaps which ones he knew now. Mr. Grimes looked casual, curls rather messy against his tanned skin -white button-up rolled up at the sleeves and dirt, actual dirt, stained across the expanse of ivory. Gone were the vests, and instead was a brown coat held by the tips of his fingers as it was thrown over his shoulder -expecting the cold of the sun setting. Far more prepared than you had been.

It was then, the world decided, as you stood -rather aimlessly that Mr. Elliotts startlingly saw you.

You hadn't known exactly why he'd looked your way, you couldn't even guess really but he did. A sort of sweep over you, as if in disbelief, perhaps because you looked rather disheveled. On top of the deliberate moves by your Headmistress, you'd brushed upon crowds of people -so focused that you couldn't quite see what was in front of you. You scrubbed at your cheek, insecurely, fully aware that you looked as though you'd been crying.

Mr. Grimes naturally caught the dispersed attention, and you could swear the world slowed as he seemed to follow Mr. Elliotts' attention -blue eyes landing squarely on you. Properly deranged-looking you without a proper coat for the chill of night, dress crumpled, flushed cheeks for far more than one reason. You were sure you looked rather improper, less than graceful, full of a crowd of women who certainly looked much more composed-

And yet, he stalled -eyes flickering over you like he could hardly believe you were real. Eyes lingering along your hands, you realized just then that you still held his letter -in a sort of death grip between your fingers, the paper crinkling ever so slightly at the pressure.

His eyes hovered there, over the letter of which he knew of the exact context -something so vulnerable there. Even as the blue swam over your face noticeably focused on your eyes -your cheeks, where you could see your lack of composure. The crying-

Before you could even blink, he was making strides toward you -intense eyes settling upon you, gentle, concerned.

"Ms. Greene," he exhaled, breathless -it made your heart thrum against your skin, "-I... Is everythin' alright? Do you need anythin' from-"

Your mind was like a low hum, everything spinning around you so harshly -something warm at him being here, right in front of you. It felt like so many different things had built up until now like a wave pushed past you -your mouth opening before you could properly decide what you wished to say-

"I got your letter."

And your voice was surely broken, and cracked and your cheeks scrubbed pink. Your hair was out of place, your dress crumpled -you were anything but composed.

But he looked at you so carefully still like a gust of wind could blow you away and he'd wished to have you stay-

"You did? Daryl-" he started, slowly, "-Mr. Dixon said you had. I suppose I jus' wasn't sure-"

"If I received it?" you finished, rather directly, "-I did, I've... Despite a few setbacks, I've read them all."

"The invitations?" he echoed -his eyes still echoing a deep sort of wonder that you stood before him, it made your head swirl.

"Yes," you answered, "-everything, I've- everything."

It was silent for a moment, a heavy sort of silence that felt as if it was suffocating -swallowing you whole. And something in your brain ticked, a desperate sort of thought of if you had been too late -if your moment had passed, if you didn't say it now would you ever be able to, if he was truly here for you how much longer-

"I-" you echoed, bursting from your soul -spilling past your lips, "-Forgive me for my frankness, but I can hardly think of anything else. Has the time passed? I've read through your notes, your letter, and I hope... I hate to hope, truly. But I hope to not be too late, Mr. Grimes because I-"

He opened his mouth to speak, but you couldn't let him, not when you had so much to say-

"-I believe I've fallen in love with you. Most completely."

You couldn't bare to look at him, squeezing the letter to your chest -fingers finding solace in its texture. You know you should've stopped there, but it only kept coming to you, like everything you had wanted to say was spilling over.

So, your mouth moved before you could rationalize it, "-And I know the situation is rather complicated, as you've written, and that even though your affections may lie with me, you may still choose differently. I understand that it's a rather complex issue that has been brought upon you and I'm certainly not making it any easier-"

"Ms. Greene-"

"-and your notes were far from today, your feelings may have changed somewhere along the way. In that case, there is nothing for me here. So, I wish to ask you-"

"Ms. Greene-"

"-if you wish to answer, I suppose, am I too late? If those sentiments you've written are no longer true, I must know now, despite the devastation it might cause-"

"Y/N, please," he interrupted, improperly but he spoke softly, trying to gain your attention, gain your focus, "-breathe."

You paused, inhaling a deep sort of breath, and trying desperately to stop the urge of the tears behind your eyes, "I'm sorry, Mr. Grimes, I know this is all rather sudden, and I look dreadful -I've been crying all evening, it's been an unbelievable span of days. But I truly just wished you to know-"

"Ms. Greene," he urged, soft and the low timber of his voice -hand extended forward with a handkerchief (white satin and embroidered), "-please, I ask of ya to not speak of yourself 'at way. You look far from dreadful."

"Oh please," you echoed -gently accepting the handkerchief like it was a sort of priceless gem, "-Mr. Grimes, there is no need to flatter me so, I know-"

"Ms. Greene, you are certainly the finest woman I 'ave ever laid my eyes on. Especially now."

"Mr. Grimes..."

"And to clear somethin' up directly," he added, tone soft and careful like maybe you were a sort of priceless gem, "-there was never a 'too late'. Not- Not for you."

"That's preposterous, truly," you retorted, "-I would not believe so. I'm not- You must have had a limit, and there is no shame in that for I deserve it-"

"Ms. Y/N," he whispered, eyes so blue that you'd nearly forgotten how to breathe, "-if you wished me to, I would've waited forever."

"You-" you started, breathless and a bit in disbelief, "-I'm not asking you to wait forever. I'm... I'm here. And you're at the fruit stall, and I guess I thought- I guess I thought maybe you'd chosen me."

"There was no choosing, Ms. Greene, I-" he paused, flitting over you for a second -thoughtful, fond, "-I'm suddenly not very sure I was clear enough."

"You were," you echoed but it seemed a little hollow. Even now, as you stood here. You couldn't believe it, you weren't sure.

"If there was enough doubt in your mind to break your heart as it did," he spoke -tone serious and unflinching, "-then I certainly was not clear enough."

"Mr. Grimes, your letters-" you started, trying to soothe, to fix, to patch, "-they spoke plenty. You don't-"

"I wish to," he responded, pulling your hands up (letter tucked safely into your palm) to press his lips to them -soft and yet pointed, before smirking, a familiar sort of look settled upon his face, "-Think of it as a gift."

You laughed, pushing through the stuffiness of your nose, "Haven't you had enough of that already?"

He grinned, the kind that crinkled at the eyes before faltering, pulling your hands down to envelope them with his own -all calloused fingertips and tan skin, "Your hands are cold."

"It's a rather chilly night, Mr. Grimes."

He rolled his eyes playfully, but the concern stayed firmly where it was, "And your coat?"

"I... I forgot it," you spoke honestly, "-I didn't want to miss you somehow, I- I wasn't thinking."

He merely smiled, a little teasingly, "But ya remembered my letter?"

"I was-" you groaned but bit back a grin -you had missed this dearly, "-I feel as though I can't say anything right here, Mr. Grimes."

He laughed, out loud -something in you was nearly giddy, and without hesitation, shrugged off his brown coat you'd noticed from earlier. Before you could so much as speak a word, he'd draped it over the back of your shoulders -brown fabric a mere sponge for the woodsy fragrance that seemed to trail him around. You found it to be rather comforting, and rather warm.

"That wasn't necessary," you spoke, softly -fondly at the man in front of you. Something in your heart flipped as he seemed to preen with you wearing his coat -proud.

"It was," he argued with no bite.

"Right, and what's supposed to keep you warm then?"

"You," he answered -simply, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, wrapping his hand around yours again, "-can I walk ya home, Ms. Greene?"

"Hmm," you hummed, pretending to think about it -tapping your chin in mock thought, "-I suppose."

"You suppose?"

"Only because I believe I have a stalker," you spoke, tone anything but serious. And even still, you felt him stiffen slightly as you took his arm.

"No-" he stressed -dramatically.

"Oh, yes," you continued, tightening your fingertips around his arm -just for the comfort of him being real, being there, "-keeps sending me letters by couriers every day, very, very persistent, he is."

Mr. Grimes smiled, a sort of hazy, fond one, before fully turning to you -eyes focused, "If I summon you, will ya come tomorrow?"

"Yes," you responded -unflinchingly, "-I find I'd do rather anything you'd ask of me, Mr. Grimes."

Mr. Grimes stalled for a moment, blue eyes just staring (as he always was), and with the tiniest of movements, he pushed one of your framing hairs back behind your ear. A deep thrum of his attention laid heavily on you, once again, turned you a rather further crimson.

"Good," he merely smiled at the flush (fond), before stepping back -reasserting your hold on his arm and walking towards your home, "-we 'ave a lot to discuss."

[sayafics]

Just For A Moment - Part 4

I was supposed to be working on a new chapter for my TWD series, but I'm not feeling amazing right now, so I decided to channel all my emotions into angst.

I am still quite new at writing, but I do hope you guys enjoy it. I guess this chapter can be considered a filler chapter, but I think it's an important one all the same.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 5

Part 6

Masterlist

Months had passed since Aurora had left Intelligence. Her absence was a void that couldn't be bridged, and it had gotten to the point where Voight had stopped trying.

There wasn't much left of the Intelligence Aurora had known - Antonio had left shortly after her, and the people that remained held a much different dynamic to when she was there.

The most notable difference was seen in Jay.

There was no other way to describe it. He was a shell of the man he had been when Aurora was in his life. The Jay that existed back then was only a hollow echo now.

The team had tried their best to keep him occupied, keep him distracted, but his mind drowned in the thoughts of her.

After Aurora had left, Jay became reclusive, his presence at Molly's became rarer, his smiles scarce, and his laughs had died the moment he found her resignation letter.

If Aurora was still here, the one thing that might have pleased her would have been how much Jay had distanced himself from Hailey. The thought brought a bitter smile on Jay's face, the realisation that if he had let Hailey go sooner, then he would still have Aurora. It was a thought that had been haunting him every moment he was alone with his thoughts. Which was a lot.

Jay would avoid social gatherings, ignore birthday invitations and victory celebrations, he wouldn't speak to his friends and colleagues unless he had to, and even then, he spoke with short words and only gave what was necessary.

Their worries for him grew as the days passed. He was quick to anger and harder to calm. But most of all, he was quiet.

When Aurora had first joined Intelligence, it was as if someone had struck a match in the dark. She was a glowing light everyone found themselves gravitating to, a light Jay gravitated to in a time where he was lost in darkness.

As their friendship blossomed to love, the Intelligence office was always a lively environment, even when the team was working diligently to file their paperwork Kim could hear the quiet giggles and whispers Jay and Aurora would share from their paired desks on the other side of the room.

So, with Aurora's disappearance and Jay's detached behaviour, the office was condemned with silence, a kind so tense and thick that Kim, Kevin, and Adam found themselves trading excuses to get out of the suffocating environment.

Throughout it all, despite his silence and his reluctance, Hailey tried.

Hailey tried to speak with Jay to reconnect with him and comfort him. She couldn't understand what had changed so quickly, and her heart ached at the idea that Jay didn't love her. And it broke at the thought that perhaps Jay didn't even like her and that she was, as he said that night, just a mistake.

Still, she tried.

During the long months of Aurora's absence, Jay had been religiously investigating ways to find her - he had spoken with Voight, with her old colleagues, he even tried to go undercover and see if any of her old aliases were active. But it seemed, where ever Aurora had left to go, it wasn't in Chicago. It wasn't where Jay could find her.

Still, he tried.

There was never a moment where Jay had given up finding Aurora, but his hope of succeeding dwindled as days grew into weeks, which passed into months. Every failure at finding a lead only succeeded in pushing him further off the edge, causing him to drown further in his guilt and wallow in his misery.

That is, until today.

It had taken hours of convincing, begging even. But Adam had gotten Jay to agree to a round of drinks at Molly's to celebrate their success on a recent case. If Jay was being honest, it was the offer of free alcohol that enticed him most - a favourable way to pass time so he wasn't stuck with his own thoughts.

He was in his car, parked by Molly's when he looked out his window into the bar.

And there she was.

She wore a radiant smile as she spoke to friends and old colleagues. She was dressed in her usual attire, her hair flowing freely down her back. She moved animatedly, excited to be back amongst those she now saw as friends. Her eyes, bright and wide, flickered between those who surrounded her. That is, until they stuck on one person. Her head craned up to meet the eyes of the man who stood over her shoulder, Jay couldn't see either of their faces now, but he could imagine the shy smile they exchanged as the man placed a gentle hand on the small of her back.

His breath caught in his throat, an overwhelming sensation akin to falling festered in his chest. He broke out in a cold sweat as his eyes burned at the realisation - she was here.

Jay wanted to do nothing more than launch out his car and embrace her. He wanted to beg for her forgiveness until she gave him another chance. But most of all, he wanted her to look at him with love instead of the emptiness that welled in her eyes on that night.

But he knew he couldn't.

He couldn't face her. The possibility of being rejected, the thought of Aurora being unable to look at him, let alone speak to him, sent a stroke of fear through him.

No, he couldn't deal with that.

Jay's hands found his keys. He turned the engine on and drove.

He didn't know where he was going, but he could feel hot tears sliding down his cheeks as the guilt that flooded his mind began to devour him.

He couldn't find it in himself to be angry at the prospect she had moved on, and he didn't feel worthy enough to justify feeling sad. Her name was scrawled against his heart, but it seemed that he had torn his own name out of her's.

***

Jay hadn't shown up to work the next day.

The team had met Aurora at Molly's yesterday, her presence taking them by surprise as they greeted her with blossoming smiles and pained eyes.

Adam had turned to the door, wondering if Jay had caught sight of the girl yet. One glance towards the window confirmed his suspicions, seeing Jay's car take off quickly. A sight Aurora had noticed too, causing her eyes to dim as her smile faltered. A heavy hand came to rest on her shoulder, squeezing in comfort, and Aurora placed her hand over the man's who stood behind her in a silent thanks.

When Jay hadn't shown up to work, the team had written his absence down to the fact he was either too heartbroken to work, or he drank too much alcohol that he was unable to leave his bed.

Voight had told the team to give Jay his space, having gotten a text from the man to tell him he won't be coming in. And for the most part, they all adhered.

That is, except one person.

Hailey was nothing, if not stubborn.

She had received the cold shoulder from Jay for months now, and knowing that Aurora was back in Chicago was her last straw.

Hailey showed up at Jay's apartment within the hour, knuckles stinging at the force she rapped the door with.

But no answer.

She didn't relent, choosing to call for him now, too. Hoping to cause enough of a disturbance that he felt urged to answer.

"Jay! Open the door! Come on Jay, I'm not leaving until we talk."

She heard the tell-tale sounds of the door being unlocked and lowered her hand, only taking a step back after she saw the state Jay was in. Her face fell as she regarded him in pity.

She had come here hoping to convince him to choose her, to love her.

It was only now, after months of silence and cold rejection, she felt hesitant she may not succeed.

Jay's eyes were bloodshot. He squinted under the artificial light, a five o'clock shadow blooming on his face as his undereyes were dark and heavy. She could smell the booze on him, and a glance behind him showed bottles of alcohol littering the tables and cabinets. He was in the same clothes he wore yesterday, and at the sight of her, his face twisted into a grimace.

He regarded her silently, waiting for her to speak but Hailey found herself stunned to silence.

"What?" His voice sounded scratchy, but she couldn't miss the venom in his voice, as though he blamed her for what happened between them - like he wasn't an active part.

"Gallo's back."

Jay rolled his eyes in annoyance, stepping back to slam the door in Hailey's face. But she threw her hands against the door, hoping to stop him, "wait, stop. Jay, please."

He gave a suppressed sigh before opening the door again.

"You have spent months ignoring me, Jay. You called me a mistake, and you let me leave."

Jay's eyes lit with anger, "you knew. You knew I love her, and you still came to me and pretended to be my friend - all so you could sleep with me. And I'm the idiot that was dumb enough to do so."

"You didn't seem to care that night," there was something akin to hope in her eyes, as her voice slowly rose, "you wanted me, you needed me that night. What's your excuse for that, Jay? Because clearly, whatever you told Gallo wasn't worth her time."

"I don't have one," Jay lowered his head as shame clouded his thoughts, a harsh laugh escaping him, "you know, I tried to tell myself that, maybe, I was too drunk to know what I was doing, but, I don't know. I knew what I was doing, and the truth is, I don't know why I did it. I just know that it was wrong, and if I ever had to re-do it, I would have never let you in that night. Hell, I never would have done any of it - I wouldn't have been your friend. I was the idiot for letting you come close and for ignoring Rory when she said she was uncomfortable. I just wish she'd for-"

"Are you serious? Jay, she left. She left you, I'm still here. I'm the one that's still trying, after all this time. Not her, me."

"I don't care. I don't want you, Hailey. I never did."

Hailey's eyes stung as they filled with tears, a broken whisper echoed in the space between them, "liar."

But Jay's face was resolute. It was the most sure she had seen him in months - "I don't love you, I never claimed to. What happened between us was a mistake, one I can never take back, but I will spend the rest of my life praying I can. She was your friend too, Hailey. She tried her best to be, to make me happy because I told her that's all you are to me. The truth is, you're nothing more than a colleague now."

With one final look, Jay stepped back and closed the door, ready to drown himself in alcohol as he stewed in his miseries.

Hailey stood on the other side of the door, tears streaming down her face as anger wreaked havoc through her heart.

***

When Aurora had left Chicago, she had cut off everyone she knew and went back to the life she had tried to escape. It wasn't easy going back undercover, pushing her own feelings aside and living a facade.

But it was what she knew. It was a skill she was so well acquainted with that she found herself immersed in her new persona with ease.

Assignment after assignment, she joined gangs and cartels, danced in strip clubs and brothels, played the good guy, and then the bad. Her job was easy, go in, gain their trust, get a confession, or lay a trap, and repeat.

Months had passed since she left Jay, since she left Chicago and yet a moment never went by where she didn't think of him. She saw him in everything she did, from drinking a stale cup of coffee to cleaning her gun. She remembered his eyes, the way they would always find their way back to her, recognising her in any crowd and picking her out in every room.

She missed him.

Of course she did, she ached for him and her heart yearned for him.

She had thrown herself into cases when she re-joined the CIA so quickly after leaving Chicago, barely giving herself time to mourn the relationship she had cared so dearly for.

And if she was being honest, it was something she would've been happy to continue doing - ignore her feelings for Jay and the heartache he caused her - if it hadn't been for Voight.

Voight wasn't blind. He could see how Jay was getting worse, could smell the alcohol on his breath when he came to work, the anger in his eyes as they worked on cases, the cold shoulder he gave to everyone. Jay refused to get help, he refused to take a break too.

Voight had already lost his best officer, he couldn't lose his best detective too.

Voight knew that if he forced Jay to take a break from Intelligence, they would likely never get him back.

Jay was always one drink away from packing up and searching the world to find her.

So, Voight found her instead.

And he had an interesting offer.

What do we think? I know this chapter is much more focused on Jay and his feelings rather than giving an actual play-by-play, but I think Jay's difficulties dealing with his emotions is very important to the story and will play a big role in how Aurora reacts to him when they see each other again.

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!

Who do we think the mystery guy Aurora was with is?👀 Could it be a fireman or doctor we know? Or someone completely new? I know I have someone in mind!

Don't be afraid to comment ideas below <3

[coffee-obsessed-writer]

Maybe Someday

Daryl Dixon x Reader

A/N: It's been a while since I wrote for Daryl, but thanks to my bestie @kazosa an idea came to life, so here we are. Wasn't sure who to tag, so just tagged those who I know used to read my TWD fics.

Summary: With the fighting done, and the Commonwealth holding steady under the leadership of his group, Daryl still finds himself feeling restless. An old friend, from before the fall, plagues his mind and he thinks maybe it's time to finally find out if she survived.

WC: 6.5K

Warnings: Language.

Tags: @kazosa @wings-of-a-raven @twdsunshine @valeriiecameron @jodiereedus22 @rhyatt-deauxtreve

The roar of his bike down the graveyard highway wasn’t loud enough to drown out his thoughts. Daryl thought once he hit that open stretch, with no car coffins of the dead, he may be able to hit the throttle hard enough to escape the notion he was doing the wrong thing. It felt wrong in his gut to leave everyone behind, especially with all that happened as the Commonwealth fell under new leadership. His friends could use his help, and the kids—Judith and RJ—already lost one father, they didn’t need to lose him, too. He had done everything he could to keep them all safe for so long. He needed to be there for them now. He also knew that if he didn’t take care of himself, he wouldn’t be at his best for them. He felt used up and tired. He couldn’t feel that way and be there for the kids. No way he could make mistakes with them around. 

Daryl wasn’t planning on leaving forever, either. Until he got his head right and got back, he knew Carol would be there, and they’d be okay. It hadn’t been an easy decision to go, but through all the years since the world fell, he’d had a thought nagging at the back of his mind. Through all the horrors of battles won and lost, with all the blood that had been spilled in the last ten years, she should have been the furthest thing from his mind. Yet, there she was. Her name itched the back of his brain, irritating him in the worst possible moments. Her face still haunted his dreams, and he would wake with the guilt of knowing he had left her behind. 

In the years since, he convinced himself she hadn’t made it. That was how he got on with every day, doing what was necessary for his new-found family to survive. He rarely worried about his own life; he didn’t before the world fell, why would he now? Then, he met them all. He met Glen and Rick, and Hershel and Maggie. They fought like hell, side by side, in some of the most terrifying situations; and most times, they won because they had stuck together. Now, there was some quiet. Some assemblance of real peace. That’s when (Y/N)’s face came back into his dreams, and her name started to itch again. He never really let her go, just like he never really let Rick go. 

Carol caught him one night, out in the Plaza at the Commonwealth. It was after the mess had been cleaned up, and those who had been in charge were now nothing but a memory. Weeks had passed and he just couldn’t find that sense of contentment that most of the others had. When his best friend asked him why, he absently said her name and had realized he said it allowed. Carol asked a few more questions, and Daryl’s dam of memories with (Y/N) crashed open. After an hour of recounting story after story about their childhood together, Carol encouraged him to head down south.

“You’ll never be able to really be happy, Daryl. I know you. You carry these things with you and don’t know how to set them down. Yes, the chances that she’s still alive are small. But how many times have we thought that, and we were wrong. Hell, you dug me a grave at the Prison, remember? I was stuck in that cell for days. You found me. I’m here because you wouldn’t give up. You found me.” She placed her hand on the knee of his ripped pants and gave it a squeeze. “If she is still stuck in your head, then at least go to give yourself some peace of mind. If she’s not there, then you know. If she is, then you know.”

It took him a few more days to convince himself to pack supplies for the trip. The Commonwealth had cleared a lot of the areas between there and where he was headed, so the risk was minimal, but not totally gone. RJ and Judith were okay with him going, as long as he promised to come back. No matter what, that would be a promise he would keep.

Two days on the road with clear pavement, he made good time before entering South Carolina. The dangerous part was going to be traversing the backroads to the southwest part of the state where he figured she would be. IF she was alive… IF she was STILL alive, that’s where she’d be. 

The sun was setting, and with it the heat of the day started to fade. Daryl was grateful for the relief and began to slow the bike as he approached yet another abandoned small, one-stoplight town. Coming to a stop at the ghostly intersection, he had to make the choice to push on through the dark or try to find a safe place to hold up for the night. He could hear a few far off groans of the walkers, and thought he would be better to push on past this little hamlet, and maybe find a spot off the road to camp. (Y/N)’s family estate was maybe another hour further, going at the slower pace he was now. 

He had only been there once, a million years ago, and never inside the place. She had called him on a rare night he and Merle had actually been home. There was a bad storm raging, and Merle had been too drunk already to even think about leaving the house that night, so of course, Daryl stayed in with him. Their father was on a bender somewhere in Atlanta, and it was a rare treat to have the place to themselves for an extended amount of time. So, when she called crying, asking him to pick her up on the corner by the gas station, his gut reaction was to say, no. Then he heard the fear in her voice and knew he could never leave her alone and afraid. Merle was too far gone to see Daryl steal the keys to the ratty old pickup truck, and he certainly didn’t notice when it started up and left the house. 

Daryl found (Y/N) standing in the pouring rain, absolutely soaked to the bone. Make-up was running down her cheeks, but he didn’t know if it was from the rain or from her crying. She was visibly shaken, and when he asked her what happened she couldn’t answer him at first. He had known her since they were five years old, and in all those years between he had never seen her like this. (Y/N) was normally tough and stoic. She wasn’t one of those girls that showed a lot of emotion. If she fell off her bike, she never cried. The time she fell out of the stupid fort they tried to build and broke her arm, she waved it off and walked home without a complaint. (Y/N) wasn’t a neglected kid, at least not like him and Merle had been. Daryl didn’t always know the extent of what she dealt with at home, but he knew she was broken like he was, even as kids. Maybe that’s why they stayed close for so long. They could see that in each other.

Being so deep in thought about (Y/N), Daryl wasn’t paying enough attention to the road ahead, and it was nearly too late to swerve to avoid the old wreckage in the road, but he still was able to not hit the ancient station wagon that stood in his path. He veered enough to the left to avoid it, but not avoid laying down the bike completely.

“Shit!” he shouted, as he slid across the pavement away from the bike. Thankfully he had slowed down a lot since the highway, but didn’t make it hurt any less, or mean that his bike hadn’t been damaged. He checked around him to see if the sound of the accident drew any attention from the dead. When he was sure it was safe, he got on his feet with a grunt and limped back to where his bike lay on the ground. Once he got it upright, he could see right away that it would need a few repairs before it would be safe to ride. “SHIT!” he growled again, then released a deep sigh from his chest. 

A sharp, stinging pain in his left arm caused him to stop and check out the injury there. He couldn’t see how bad it was without taking off his leather jacket, but it had torn through enough to see blood. He took the rag from his back pocket and quickly tied it around his upper arm as a make-shirt tourniquet for the time being. It only took a second for him to realize the wound was almost in the same spot he’d been cut there before. 

“Really hope she’s still alive and still there.” Despite being in pain, frustrated and tired, Daryl snorted a laugh when the memory popped into his head of the first time she had to tend to one of his injuries. “Gonna need her to stitch me up ag’in.”

“What the hell happened to you?” she asked, examining the cut above Daryl’s eye and the large gash he had on his arm. “Just what you need. More scars… Was it your dad again? Or Merle this time?”

“Neither. Stupidass Tommy Blake. He thought he’d be smart and try to start shit.”

“Clearly, he started it, but I hope you finished it. That guy deserves an ass kickin’.”

“Mhm,” Daryl grunted. “C’mon, stitch me up, would ya?” Daryl used his chin to nod at the yarn and hook she had sitting beside her on the porch swing.

(Y/N) looked over her shoulder to see what he was referring to. “That’s crocheting, you ass. I don’t know how to sew.”

“Same shit. C’mon, I’m bleedin’ all over mama’s precious porch here.”

“Good. I hope she sees it.” She grabbed his arm again to see how deeply he had been cut. “Seriously though, why me? Better off at the Urgent Care.”

“Got no cash. Besides, you do all that craft shit. I know you can do it.”

“I CROCHET Daryl, I don’t SEW.” 

He rolled his eyes at her. “Whatever! Just grab a needle and thread, I’ll walk ya through it.”

That’s what she did. They sat on the porch swing on a late Georgia summer afternoon, and as she painstakingly sewed up the cut on his arm, he had to laugh at how her tongue peeked through her parted lips proving she was deep in concentration.

“Some time this century grandma, this ain’t no cotillion dress.”

“Fuck you. I’m going as fast as I can.”

“Mhm, sure. I think you just like touchin’ my arm,” he teased, knowing it would piss her off. 

“I swear, I don’t want to hurt you, but I will punch you right in the stitches that are already done if you don’t shut up and let me work here.”

Daryl could hear a rumble of thunder far off in the distance, and began to walk his broken bike in the direction of where he hoped (Y/N) was. He hoped against all that told him she was already dead, that she would answer the door, and maybe help stitch him up again.

An hour by bike turned into nearly four while walking with the broken bike. It was well past midnight, but whatever storm had blown through was gone, and the sky was as clear as could be. He lucked out and had a nearly full moon that was able to guide him in the right direction. When the large, rambling estate finally came into view, he was surprised to see that it didn’t look as run down and abandoned as he worried it would be. 

Finally reaching the wrought iron gate that stood a quarter mile between him and the front door of the home, Daryl leaned the bike against it and drew in a deep breath. His mind begged him to rest for a few minutes if for no other reason than to be ready to battle whatever came out of that house. It could be a house of walkers. It could be a house of people. Those people could NOT be (Y/N) and they could be armed to the teeth. You just never knew what to expect from this world anymore.

He took the pack from the bike and slung it over his shoulder. Daryl paused, and made sure his gun was still in place and checked to reassure himself it was fully loaded. His rough and scraped fingers touched against the set of knives he wore on his hip and then felt ready to go see what or who was living in the big house.

Staring up at the big iron gate, he could easily see the large chain and padlock that was on it. No big deal, it had never stopped him before. He began to walk the perimeter and found a spot where the ground rose up enough that he could make a jump, grab the top of the iron fencing and pull himself up. The pain in his arm screamed at him and he felt a gush of blood warm against the inside of his jacket, but paid it no mind. 

Once he hoisted himself over the fence and onto the grounds, he ended up facing the side of the house. In one of the windows, he could see some faint light and the shadow of a person moving around. A small bit of hope grew. He rechecked that all his supplies and weapons were still in place, and headed in the direction of the light. 

“Sure you don’t want me to take you further?” Daryl asked her. (Y/N) slowly shook her head. “Why not?”

“You know that my dad would have something to say if you brought me to the front door. He hates that I hang out with you.”

“Fuck him. He’s a dick.”

“You’re not wrong. But after everything that happened last night, I don’t need to deal with that, too.”

She had finally told him how Tommy Blake had turned on her and attacked her when she said she wouldn’t go have sex with him by the quarry. Daryl gritted his teeth the whole drive from their modest Georgia suburb to (Y/N)’s father’s house in South Carolina. He would have brought her back to his house, but with a drunk Merle lurking, who knows what would have happened. 

“I hate it here,” she whispered and looked out the window at the oversized southern mansion. 

“Shit, I’ll stay. You take the truck back and go home to the trailer and Merle.”

“Um, no.” She laughed. “Though, can’t really say your drunk brother would be a worse alternative to my drunk father. But at least here I have a room with a lock on the door.”

“He better not lay a hand on you. Why the hell you wanna come here anyway? I coulda just taken you home.”

“Nah,” she shook her head and sighed. “Mom is no better. She’ll just tell me to suck it up, was probably my fault anyway.”

“You know it wasn’t though, right? That asshole has it comin’ to him when I get back home.”

“Don’t bother, Daryl. He was so high he won’t even know or remember why you’re beatin’ his ass.”

“Like I care.”

“I need you to care. Okay? I’m not staying here forever. I will be back in Georgia soon. I just need to breathe. And when I get back, last thing I want to have to do is bail your ass out of jail.”

“Fine,” Daryl grunted. “You call me when you’re ready to come back. If I can steal the truck again, I’ll come’n get ya.”

(Y/N) got quiet again. She looked like she wanted to say more, but instead she just turned to him with a sad little smile and nodded. “Thank you.”

Daryl was within steps of the front porch. He never got the chance to climb the steps to knock. Whomever was inside must have heard him somehow and came downstairs to see who was lurking. Another faint light began to illuminate the room right beyond the front door. After a loud click of the interior lock, the front door opened a crack. The light from inside was enough for him to see the barrel of a shotgun sticking out. 

“Who are you!?” a deeper, but female voice, called from inside.

“Name’s Daryl,” he called back and slowly raised both hands into the air so that whomever was inside could see he wasn’t carrying a weapon. “Lookin’ for a girl that used to live here.”

“Lots of people have passed through here in the years. We got an army inside, fully armed. So if you’re here to cause trouble–”

“Nah, just lookin’ for an old friend,” he yelled back. He wasn’t too scared of the threat, he figured if there had been an armed army inside, he would already be surrounded with guns pointed at his head. “Her name is (Y/N). Back before the world died, this was her dad’s house.”

Silence. The barrel of the shotgun never moved, nor did the door. A minute passed, and finally the gun was lowered and the door cracked open a bit more. 

“Daryl, who? Daryl Dixon?”

A feeling of relief tore through his chest and despite everything he had been feeling, he smiled. “Yeah, Dixon.”

The door opened all the way, and the lights from inside spilled out onto the porch. (Y/N) stepped out into the night air. The way the shadows fell, her face was obscured from him, but Daryl would know her from anywhere. 

“Had an accident on my way here. Ripped my arm open. Was hopin’ you could stitch me up, again.”

(Y/N) reached the top of the front steps, and this time the moonlight allowed him to see her face. She was older for sure, but the years hadn’t seemed to be too hard on her. She was still beautiful, and when her lips twitched into her crooked smile, he felt even more relieved. 

“I don’t sew, you asshole. Thought we’ve been through this already.”

“Still got the magic tough,” Daryl laughed and snaked his now sewn up arm back through his leather jacket. 

“I just–I can’t believe you’re alive. And here. Where… HOW are you here?”

“Figured if you were still standin’ you’d be standin’ here. At least I hoped.”

(Y/N) bit down on her lower lip and drew in a deep breath through her nose, slowly releasing it. “Yeah. Here I am. You look like you’ve been through Hell and back.”

“Close enough,” he mumbled, suddenly feeling shy and unsure of what to say. “It’s been rough. The group I got with, we had our troubles along the way. But it’s a strong group, I guess that’s why we made it.”

“Merle?”

Daryl hadn’t heard his brother’s name in a long time. Though it had been years since he had to put Merle down, it still stung. He lowered his head and shook it slowly. “He didn’t make it.”

“I’m sorry.” It was all she could manage to squeak out. The shock of seeing Daryl again was still fresh. She had thought he was long gone, though that didn’t stop her from thinking about him all the time. “I’m glad you’re here. Shocked, but glad. I have a room upstairs you can use. Take a hot shower. Are you hungry?”

“I could eat. But shower sounds better.”

“C’mon, I’ll show you the room. You get cleaned up and I can make you something to eat.”

Daryl finished cleaning up, put on a clean shirt from his pack and found his pants, now patched up, laying on the bed. He made his way back downstairs and slowly walked through the house looking for the kitchen. With each room he passed by or looked into, he was in awe of how well things seemed to hold up through the years. He had a million questions for her but didn’t want to push for answers. Finally, he pushed through a set of swinging doors and found himself standing in the kitchen. (Y/N) was at the island counter, slicing what looked like ham off the bone and piling it onto a hearty slice of bread that already had lettuce and some ripe tomatoes on it.

“Damn, looks good,” he said as he slowly made his way closer to her. 

“Veg is from the garden out back. Been able to keep it going fairly well. Baked the bread this morning and the ham, well… a great sacrifice from one of the older piglets.”

“So, just you here?”

“Mhm. Wasn’t always just me. People have passed through, some stayed for a while. But after the last bunch, I stopped taking people in. Figured if they were this far into the pandemic, they could survive on their own.”

“Last bunch? Lemme guess… caused a whole lotta trouble?”

(Y/N) nodded without looking away from slicing the ham. She placed the other piece of bread on top and pushed the plate towards Daryl. “Eat up. Want a drink? Got water from the tap. Actually stays cold from the well. Or, I got whiskey.”

“Whiskey,” he said without hesitation before pulling the plate with the sandwich on it closer. He used both hands to pick up and took a big bite. It didn’t strike him until that moment that he hadn't eaten all day. Last meal was a can of beans over a campfire with a few hunks of stale bread. The Commonwealth hadn’t been hurting for food, but the rations he took for the trip didn’t last long.

(Y/N) rifled through the cabinets until she produced a clear decanter of whiskey and two crystal tumblers. She placed them on the counter and poured a hefty shot into each. “My grannie sure did love her crystal,” she said absently as she moved one of the glasses towards Daryl. “Lotta good it did her in the long run.”

They lifted their glasses and clicked the edges together. “To old friends,” she said. Daryl repeated her toast and they each downed the biting brown liquid. 

Some brief small talk was exchanged while Daryl ate his sandwich, but when he was done, the kitchen got very quiet. 

“Why are you really here, Daryl? And, where have you been all these years?”

“Been all over,” he said quietly. A flash flood of memories whipped through his mind, not really sure if he should start from the beginning and tell her all of it. “Now we’re staying in a large community north of here. The Commonwealth.”

(Y/N) let out a loud, snorting laugh and promptly refilled her glass. “Oh, I know the Commonwealth. Some of their,” she used her fingers in air quotes, “‘soldiers’ were the last group that I had here. Claimed to be recruiting for the community. But really they just wanted my land and the house. Heard them talking about how their leader would love the place. Just what she needed. When I told them no, they got hostile. For two days I battled to get them out of this place. When the last of ‘em finally left, I told them if they were ever spotted this far south again, I’d resurrect the Confederacy and reign hell down on them.”

Daryl laughed. “And they believed you?”

“I took out six of them before they could even blink. I think they got how serious I was.”

“Six? Shit. I trained to be one of those soldiers. They aren’t soft men and women.”

“No. They aren’t. But I’m harder and I won’t take shit from outsiders.”

“I can see that.”

“You never answered me. Why are you here, Daryl?”

Daryl cleared his throat, then reached for the decanter of whiskey. After another shot, he simply shrugged. “Wanted to know if you were still alive.”

Her gaze narrowed on him as if she didn’t believe him straight away. By all that he could see, it looked as if she survived fairly easily. The house wasn’t in a state of decay, she was clean, clothes neat, and still looked like she did all those years ago but she’d gotten harder than her fancy granite counters. It made him wonder how the girl he knew had become the woman before him.

“I’m alive. So are you, though, you look like you’ve been through it. You certainly look different. Last time I saw you, you weren’t a boy exactly, but you sure are a man now.”

“Yeah, well. I didn’t have a fortress like this to hold up in. I was out on the road, always fighting to stay alive, to eat, to… to keep others alive.”

She shook her head and reached for the decanter again, but Daryl stopped her. “Nah, don’t do that. Roll your eyes then go for the booze. Say what you wanna say.”

“Ok, fine. That was your choice, Daryl. When things started going to shit and I told you I was heading up here. I told you to come with me. Hell, I fucking BEGGED you to come with me.”

“I remember,” he said, the rush of the moment and the heat of the whiskey was fueling him. “I also remember you said, but NOT my brother. Merle wasn’t welcome.”

“Damn right Merle wasn’t welcome. You were though. You could have been here with me all this time. But no, loyalty to your brother kept you living on the road. Scouring for scraps of food, dealing with God only knows what kind of people.”

“Worst of the worst kinda people.”

“My point.”

“You damn well knew I wouldn’t leave Merle behind. He’s my brother! WAS my brother, (Y/N). He’s all I had in this goddamn world back then.”

“Bullshit. All he ever did was get you in trouble and bring you down. Since we were all kids, he was always dragging you into some kind of mess. Remember Tommy Blake? That fight you had with him and I had to sew your arm up? That was because of Merle!”

“What was I supposed to do?! He was the only one who ever gave a damn about me growing up!”

“No, he wasn’t and you know it! Your loyalty had you blinded to him. I gave a shit about you!” Both of their voices were getting louder and louder with each line thrown at the other. “And look, you still lost him anyway! How much trouble did he cause for you until he died?!”

Daryl wanted to lash out at her, but he couldn’t because she was right and also because it wasn’t why he came all this way. (Y/N), however, wasn’t done with her tirade. 

“Goddamnit, Daryl! You know how many years I stood on that porch and watched people approaching the gates, praying that you would be among them? Hoping, just HOPING you were at least still alive somewhere!”

“Just, stop… I wasn’t gonna leave my brother behind. Not for anyone.”

“Clearly, because he was the end all be all of your existence!”

“Jesus… I didn’t come all the way for this…”

“Some things never change. You’re still an ass!”

“Yeah, well, you’re still a know-it-all bitch!”

“And I still love you!”

Her words stopped Daryl from saying anything else. It was his turn to narrow his gaze at her, trying to understand what the hell she meant by that. 

“Look, I don’t wanna fight with you–”

“What does that mean? You never told me that.”

“What? That I loved you?” she snorted a laugh. “Why would I have told you, Daryl? I had to spell everything out for you. You weren’t the only one with a shitty childhood, you know. My parents, they didn’t hurt me the way yours did; never laid a hand on me. But, they never laid a hand on me lovingly, either.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means I don’t know how to show people I love them. I don’t know when I should hug someone, or show affection. If I tried with them, I got swatted away, like I was a fuckin’ pest. I was a burden to them and everyone around me. Including you. It wouldn’t have mattered back then, anyway. Even if I could have stripped myself naked in front of you and told you everything I felt for you, and you still wouldn’t have seen it. Your world revolved around Merle. I’m sorry he’s gone, I am. But, I can see you’re a different man now. You’re not the same guy that was led around by his brother anymore. I don’t know what you’ve been through, but I can guess that change happened after he died.”

He hated that she was partially right. “You don’t know shit about me.”

“Ok, keep telling yourself that. It may have been ten years since I last saw you, but don’t forget, I knew you for years before that. YEARS, Daryl. I know everything about you. I know, at your core, who you were, and how badly you wanted to allow yourself to be that person. I also know that man is standing here in front of me now. He wouldn’t be if Merle–”

“Stop, (Y/N). Maybe you’re right. He’s been gone for years, and yeah, he did hold me back. The people I was with all this time, people I’m still with, they made me who I am now. That kid you knew back then, he’s long gone. And for the record, you weren’t some kinda burden to me. You were my friend. I woulda done anything for ya.”

“You did, to a point. Then Merle would come along and… But you’re right. It's the past and bringing up Merle doesn’t do us any good now.”

The kitchen grew quiet again. This time, it was Daryl that reached for the whiskey and refilled both glasses. Slowly, they each lifted the crystal to their lips, but this time sipped on the drink. (Y/N) placed her glass down and leaned her elbows on the island counter. 

“Want another sandwich?”

“Nah,” he grunted. 

“Wanna tell me why you’re here? We keep getting sidetracked from that question.”

“I told you, I wanted to see if you were still alive.”

“So, let me get this straight… you and your friends are living it up in the Commonwealth, training to be soldiers, working jobs, living life… and you just decide to travel all this way through backroads of who knows what, and see if I am alive?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Bullshit.”

“Ok then, asshole, why do you think I did it?”

(Y/N) was thoughtful for a moment, but then Daryl noticed her lips forming into that little smirk she had; the one he would dream about. “Maybe because you missed me. And now that you’re in a stable place, you wanted to come ‘n tell me as much.”

She challenged him with a raise of her brow, and as much as he wanted to deny it and tell her how wrong she was, he couldn’t. Instead, he shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe I did.”

(Y/N) reached her hand across the counter and covered Daryl’s. “I’m glad you did.” She saw that the bandage she had put on his arm earlier was bleeding through. “C’mon, get out of that shirt.”

“Damn girl, I just got here.”

“You’re bleeding, dumbass. I wanna change your bandage. Jesus… Tell a guy you love him and he immediately thinks you’re trying to get laid.” She paused before walking out of the kitchen and turned back to him, one brow raised and a smirk on her face. “And, maybe I am… but you still need that changed first.”

Daryl followed her out of the kitchen through the swinging doors and down the hall to a parlor room. There were lanterns burning low, giving off a soft light but enough for him to see the medical supplies she had set up around the room. 

“Here, sit.” She pointed to the bench near the lantern. “Shirt off please, and no smart smartmouth comments.”

“No promises,” he grumbled and watched her go to a cabinet that was filled with rubbing alcohol and bandages. “Damn, you got a stockpile here.”

“Yep. You think I just hid away in this big… fortress is what you called it, right?”

“C’mon, (Y/N), I was just–”

“I know, being salty. I didn’t just hide here, Daryl. I mean, yes, at first I did. But once dad and grannie were gone, and it was just me, I went out, gathered supplies. Found animals to breed for food. Found ways to fortify this place and make a sustainable home. I did that. Me. I’m not some weak ass woman who just hid.”

“Okay, I’m sorry. Trust me, never thought you were weak. Like, ever.”

“Good.”

(Y/N) came and sat down on the bench next to him. She repositioned the lantern to see his wound easier, and that’s when she caught sight of his back. Some of the scars she knew well, they had been courtesy of his father’s belt. But there were so many more, some fresh. She thought she could actually feel her heart break in two thinking about the horrible things he must have gone through.

“Daryl…” she started to say, then stopped. Dabbing a cotton ball with rubbing alcohol, There’s so many more, she thought. Gingerly, she sponged the fresh blood from around his cut. “What happened out there?”

He didn’t answer at first. In the low light of the room, she could see the mix of emotions that ran across his face. His blue eyes cast to the ground as if he was ashamed. 

“Whatever it was… I won’t… couldn’t ever think less of you.”

“Doesn’t matter. People tried to beat us down. We wouldn’t let them.”

She absently reached up and tucked a long tendril of his hair behind his ear, then lightly took his chin between her fingers and turned his head to look back up at her. 

“I have never been good at expressing my feelings. Never been good at anything like that. I’ve gotten better about it over the years. Losing people left and right like we do. Had to learn to let people know what they mean to me. So, for what it’s worth, I’m proud of you. For whatever you fought through, whatever you had to endure. You’re still here, thriving in this hellscape of a world. And now you’re here sitting in my house just because you wanted to know if I was alive. That means something.”

Daryl dared to look up and meet her eyes. For the second time in his life, he saw tears there. They were a whole lot different than the tears he saw the night he picked her up in the rain at that gas station, but she was still just as beautiful. He reached up his hand and took hers that held his chin, bringing it down to his leg, then laced his fingers with hers. 

“I shoulda went with you when you asked.”

She slowly shook her head no. “I’m glad you didn’t. Because it wouldn’t have lasted. I think part of me knew that back then. You would have always wondered about your brother. Regardless of what I thought of him, you loved him. You had to stay with him. You woulda just gone to look for him, like you are here looking for me, now.”

“And, maybe, you had to do this,” he said, motioning around towards the room. “Being here, helping people that came through. Going out to scavenge for supplies on your own. You were always tough, but now, you ain’t that scared kid anymore, either.”

“Guess we both did some growing up,” she said, and reluctantly took her hand from his to continue dressing his wound. “So, what now? You see I’m alive and doing okay. Stay a few days and head back home?”

“Guess so,” he said, though he didn’t know if that was really what he wanted to do. Back home meant the Commonwealth. Sure it was safe, and aptly stocked for its many residents, but he never really did feel comfortable in such a big place. Even with his own people in power, it felt too open, too exposed for his liking. “I got people back there. Kids… I promised ‘em I’d come back.”

“You have kids?!”

“Well, no. I mean, kinda. They ain’t mine. I’m just keeping an eye on them til their mom gets back. The girl, Judith, she was born in the beginning when we were on the road. Her dad, Rick, he… he became my brother in it all, ya know? Her ma died havin’ her, so we all kinda took part in makin’ sure she was okay. We got to this new place up in Virginia, things were good. Rick found someone again, they were happy. Then, he was gone. I lost another brother and it damn near wrecked me. Spent months trying to find him, but all I ever found was his gun. His new wife was pregnant, so when RJ came along, we did what we always do, helped out. They call me Uncle Daryl.”

“Wow…” she whispered, genuinely touched and surprised at what he was telling her. “I cannot imagine you with kids. Even if they aren’t yours.”

“Their mom, she thinks Rick may still be out there, so she’s out lookin’. Me ‘n Carol, we take care of them.”

“Carol? Is she part of your group, or is she… your wife?”

Daryl snorted. “Wife? Nah. Carol is my best friend. She’s the one who told me I should come ‘n try to find you.”

“Remind me to thank her if I ever meet her.”

“You’d like her. Hell, she’d love you.”

“Good to know,” (Y/N) said, and he noticed the little smile that came to her lips. 

“So, uh, what you said before in the kitchen. You mean that?”

“What part? That you’re still an ass? Yes, with all my heart.”

Daryl rolled his eyes and watched her finish replacing the bandage on his arm. “You know what I mean.”

“Oh,” she said, “that. I meant it.”

Daryl bit the inside of his lip and nodded before he stood up and put his shirt back on. (Y/N) stood up alongside him and once he had his shirt situated, she stepped closer and threw her arms around his neck to hug him before he could even think about objecting. Not that he would have.

“I only ever wanted you in my life, Daryl. I want you to stay for as long as you can stay and I hope that’s a long time.” Her words were muffled a bit because her face was buried in his neck, but he heard everything she said. A moment later, she pulled back and while her eyes were dry, he could see the high emotions set across her face. “I know you have to go back. You have family there, and you have to keep your promise. But now you know where I am and that I’m alive, maybe next time, don’t take so long coming back around.”

Daryl wanted to say what was on his mind, but instead it came out as a deep grunt from his chest. 

“Yeah well, I woulda come sooner, but needed to find my own way, first.”

“Maybe we can find our way together now?”

“I do gotta go back. But, I think we could. Not now though, and probably not tomorrow. Would like to stay for a while, if that’s okay.”

(Y/N) lightly touched his cheek and guided his face closer to hers so she could leave a soft kiss on his lips. “It’s more than okay. Maybe one day when you do come back, it will be to stay for good.”

Daryl thought about that, and thought, maybe it could be. The reason he was so restless at the Commonwealth was because even though it was now a peaceful community in good hands, it never felt like home. That moment, sitting in the big house on the sprawling grounds, with (Y/N) was the most he had felt like he was home in years. He couldn’t get himself to tell her this now, but maybe one day he could. Maybe one day, he would tell her that he loved her too, and his home was wherever she was. 

Maybe.

[wolfish-nightmares]

Game of Survival

Pairings: The Group x gn!reader

Era: Season 1-11

Warnings: TWD gore and violence. Bad language. 18+

Category: Fluff. Angst.

Word Count:

Summary: With no other choice, you must learn to play this new game of survival. 

Prologue

Season 1: 

1x1 - Days Gone Bye 1x3 - Tell It to the Frogs 1x4 - Vatos 1x5 - Wildfire 1x6 - TS-19

Season 2:

2x1 - What Lies Ahead 2x2 - Bloodletting  2x3 - Save the Last One 2x4 - Cherokee Rose 2x5 - Chupacabra  2x6 - Secrets 2x7 - Pretty Much 2x8 - Nebraska 2x9 - Triggerfinger  2x10 - 18 Miles Out 2x11 - Judge, Jury, Executioner  2x12 - Better Angels 2x13 - Beside the Dying Fire 

Season 3: 

3x1 - Seed 3x2 - Sick 3x3 - Walk With Me 3x4 - Killer Within 3x5 - Say the Word  3x6 - Hounded  3x7 - When the Dead Come Knocking 3x8 - Made to Suffer  3x9 - The Suicide King 3x10 - Home 3x11 - I Ain’t Judas 3x12 - Clear 3x13 - Arrow on the Doorpost 3x14 - Prey 3x15 - This Sorrowful Life 3x16 - Welcome to the Tombs

Season: 4

4x1 - 30 Days Without an Accident 4x2 - Infected 4x3 - Isolation 4x4 - Indifference  4x5 - Internment 4x6 - Live Bait 4x7 - Dead Weight 4x8 - Too Far Gone 4x9 - After 4x10 - Inmates 4x11 - Claimed 4x12 - Still 4x13 - Alone 4x14 - The Grove 4x15 - Us 4x16 - A

Season 5: 

5x1 - No Sanctuary  5x2 - Strangers 5x3 - Four Walls and a Roof 5x4 - Slabtown 5x6 - Self Help 5x7 - Consumed 5x8 - Coda 5x9 - What Happened and What’s Going On 5x10 - Them 5x11 - The Distance  5x12 - Remember  5x13 - Forget 5x14 - Spend 5x15 - Try 5x16 - Conquer 

Season 6: 

6x1 - First Time Again  6x2 - JSS 6x3 - Thank You 6x4 - Here’s Not Here 6x5 - Now 6x6 - Always Accountable  6x7 - Heads Up 6x8 - Start to FInish 6x9 - No Way Out 6x10 - The Next World 6x11 - Knots Untie 6x12 - Not Tomorrow Yet 6x13- The Same Boat 6x14 - Twice As Far 6x15 - East  6x16 - Last Day on Earth 

Season 7: 

7x1 - The Day Will Come When You Won’t Be 7x2 - The Well 7x3 - The Cell 7x4 - Service 7x5 - Go Getter  7x6 - Swear 7x7 - Sing Me a Song 7x8 - Hearts Still Beating 7x9 - Rock in the Road 7x10 - New Best Friends 7x11 - Hostiles and Calamities  7x12 - Say Yes 7x13 - Bury Me Here 7x14 - The Other Side  7x15 - Something They Need 7x16 - The First Day of the Rest of Your Life 

Season 8: 

8x1 - Mercy 8x2 - The Damned  8x3 - Monsters 8x4 - Some Guy  8x5 - The Big Scary U 8x6 - The King, the Widow, and Rick 8x7 - Time for After  8x8 - How It’s Gotta Be 8x9 - Honor 8x10 - The Lost and the Plunderers  8x11 - Dead or Alive Or 8x12 - The Key 8x13 - Do Not Send Us Astray  8x14 - Still Gotta Mean Something 8x15 - Worth  8x16 - Wrath

Season 9: 

9x1 - A New Beginning 9x2 - The Bridge 9x3 - Warning Signs 9x4 - The Obliged 9x5 - What Comes After 9x6 - Who Are You Now? 9x7 - Stradivarius 9x8 - Evolution 9x9 - Adaptation 9x10 - Omega 9x11 - Bounty 9x12 - Guardians 9x13 - Chokepoint 9x14 - Scars 9x15 - The Calm Before 9x16 - The Storm

Season 10: 

10x0 - Holiday Special 10x1 - Lines We Cross 10x2 - We Are the End of the World 10x3 - Ghost 10x4 - Silence the Whisperers 10x5 - What It Always Is 10x6 - Bonds 10x7 - Open Your Eyes 10x8 - The World Before 10x9 - Squeeze 10x10 - Stalker 10x11 - Morning Star 10x12 - Walk with Us 10x13 - What We Become 10x14 - Look at the Flowers 10x15 - The Tower 10x16 - A Certain Doom 10x17 - Home Sweet Home 10x18 - Find Me 10x19 - One More 10x20 - Splinter 10x21 - Diverged 10x22 - Here's Negan

Season 11: 

11x1 - Acheron: Part 1 11x2 - Acheron: Part 2 11x3 - Hunted 11x4 - Rendition 11x5 - Out of the Ashes 11x6 - On the Inside 11x7 - Promises Broken 11x8 - For Blood 11x9 - No Other Way 11x10 - New Haunts 11x11 - Rogue Element 11x12 - The Lucky Ones 11x13 - Warlords 11x14 - The Rotten Core 11x15 - Trust 11x16 - Acts of God 11x17 - Lockdown 11x18 - A New Deal 11x19 - Variant 11x20 - What's Been Lost 11x21 - Outpost 22

[my-mt-heart]

Hi MT, it seems the past year will haunt us forever. I really hoped we could finally move on from the fiasco but a certain someone is always trying to dig a deeper hole for himself and all the old feelings are coming forward again. Especially with the title.

What I'm always asking myself, what is the former cast thinking? I know it's business but some people came forward after shit went down and posted about sweet Melissa and how they appreciated working with her. So, they knew what presumably happened.

Now I'm curious if they register what happens right now in interviews, promotion etc, if they follow it at all. Only hard-core fans and people associated to TWD will know what bs is being told in interviews.

Remember JDM and his post in June? He was the first (and only) famous cast member who wrote about it. Trashing fans and ultimately damaging Melissa's reputation further. (Even after his tweet last year about taking a break and making people believe Melissa fans threatened his best friends family.)

Other cast members didn't get involved anymore. It all went quite. No one came forward. Do you think only the two are allowed to speak publicly and all the other had to sign NDAs. Because it seems those two can say whatever they want.

And now that you can promote shows again, why does someone not hype the second season with 8 million!!!!!!!!!!! follower with the most anticipated cast mate? Excuse me, co lead? Obviously others are allowed to share selfies, as seen today?

The not hyping is bothering me as much as the trash talk.

I don't know about the other cast members. I don't know what they know or what they don't know. As for JDM and Norman, AMC awarded them a level of privilege that's now gotten really out of hand. If a woman or poc said what JDM said last April, they would've been fired immediately. Not only was it unprofessional, but it also could've led to lawsuits since "a break" is not the narrative AMC and Melissa's team legally agreed to. Same goes for Norman's comments about "getting rid of" Angela. As a "boss," he should know better. But what has AMC done about any of it? Clearly not much, since those two still go around saying and doing whatever they want no matter how many people they hurt. I don't think they have any idea who Caryl's fans are, how many challenges a lot of them face in their own lives similar to Daryl's and Carol's. It makes the constant gaslighting even more disgusting.

I think we're all aware Melissa isn't big on promotion herself, which I respect. Like I said before, Norman could easily build hype with new Caryl/McReedus photos or supporting Melissa/Carol/Caryl in interviews, but the way he's currently going about it (Melissa was always involved, Melissa knew about France the whole time) isn't in good faith.

[darkdoverpseeker]

🕊️ ❣️ g’day !!! i’m 21+, she / her, looking for new partners on discord, it’ll be fandomless or could be loosely based around a fandom but we make it completely our own, very into creating headcanons, pinterest boards, mini bios ( for like a deep dive on our muses ), playlists and all those extras. there will be dark themes ( so like obvi be 18+ ) and i’m happy to write out smut but even okay with fade to black as i know everyone’s comfort level is different. just to like finish off replies if not smut i ask you to use a gif of fc as it’s an easier way to signify the end bit like tumblr replies on indies / groups. dying to use madelaine petsch fc against ( DREW STARKEY, BILL SKARSGÅRD, cillian murphy, dylan o’brien, pedro pascal, or any masculine presenting fc ). searching high and low for mxm action as well. give this a like and i’ll reach out to you or if i haven’t reached out within twenty-four hours after this is posted up then just give me a cheeky little poke.

some fandoms i like to reconstruct with you ( bold is what i want to play) :

rom-coms ( the other zoey - fxm or life as we know it - fxm or what my number ? - fxm off the top of my head ) with this one i'm open to all genders and pairings i just put fxm as i'm slightly lazy.

dark romance ( haunting adeline type deal ) fxm or mxm - personally die to play the soft bean.

zombie apocalypse or dystopian ( twd, 28 days later & the hunger games, the 100 )

horror ( scream / slashers ) dying to play the romantic interest of the killer... with like an elle fanning or kiernan shipka fc ( think like cassie from skins )

spn ( supernatural, tvd, TRUE BLOOD, teen wolf, wolf pack ) would really love to do a true blood or wolf pack themed. femme presenting or masc presenting muses i have.

superpowers ( gen v, teen titans ) mainly playing against a jordan li type of character.

.

[tessaservopoulos]

WIP Title Ask Meme

Prompt: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

the lovely @oliviassunrise tagged me!

i recently reworked how my wip folder is set up because i'm anal as fuck, but it's also...a fucking mess right now. so enjoy!

a piece in the games [folder for the tessjoel thg au]

aos fic [folder for agents of shield fic]

AUpril fics to write [folder for the remaining au prompts from last year i never finished]

discontinued wips [folder for my wip graveyard that i've slowly been resurrecting over time, continues multiple fandoms]

future fics [folder for ideas i want to write some day and get random brainworms for so i'll write snippets, but i'm not emotionally available to invest myself in yet]

i press you to the pages of my heart (i just wanna get a little bit closer) [folder for my elena/elijah tvd au]

one-shot fics to finish [folder for one-shots i start, then abandon, and mean to return to]

san andreas fic [folder for emma/ray fic]

stranger things fics [folder for stranger things/jopper related fic]

tell me we'll never get used to this [folder for the at the pleasure 'verse]

thg fics [folder for hunger games/hayffie fic]

twd fics [folder for the walking dead fic]

twilight fics [folder for twilight/carlislesme fic]

we paint the town blue [folder for the tessjoel cop au]

circle the drain [tessjoel wip]

hold onto this lullaby [tessjoel wip]

i spend every day in a haunted house [tessjoel wip]

staring at the ceiling with you [tessjoel wip]

tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us [tessjoel wip]

the world turned upside down (who am i to complain) [tessjoel wip]

to the ends of the earth [tessjoel wip]

tagging 21 people simply because i'm an insane person is not happening but i'll tag @sassymajesty, @electricbluebutterflies and @becomethesun since all my other writer friends seemed to have been tagged already :)

[theapocalypseisonlythebeginning]

TWD/Telltale - The Walking Dead AU - "Bad People or Good People?" Masterlist

Father Daughter relationship between Daryl and Clementine. Watch as she grows to become even more badass than the two men who taught her how to survive a zombie apocalypse <3

☝️art by @estethell ❤️🖤

Summary:

"Find a group…" are one of the last words Lee says to Clementine. And so, Clementine does. Over and over and over again… until Clementine finds Daryl Dixon and his group at the prison. Whilst it's easy to gain the affection of Daryl, a man who soon becomes like a father to her, other members of the group might have some issues with her… not to mention the looming threat of other people still out there.

Changes Clementine’s fate after telltale's season 1 to fit in with the Walking Dead show, intertwining the stories from mid season 3 and onwards. Clementine is therefore 9 at the start!

(I will try to write with enough details that if you haven't seen or played either of the medias, you can follow along. But I also keep in mind that some have played and seen things multiple times so if something that was canon doesn't make sense immediately, it will in a later chapter <3 )

Chapters:

Glenn || A year after Lee's death, Clementine is on the run from Walkers after a horrible year. Right as she's on the brink of dying, an arrow saves her life.

Daryl Dixon's arrow.

Find a Group || Clementine's introduction to the group does not go as smoothly as Rick had hoped... Already existing tensions surface, and Clementine starts to notice that there might be something going on here at the prison... something involving bad people?

Fever || As Clementine falls unconscious from a fever, the group goes through various debates on Clementine's presence... whilst Glenn and Daryl bond over their care for the girl.

Forgiveness || When Clementine wakes from her fever, she's faced with the Greenes' grieving anger of the death of Shawn Greene... But Hershel's Farm is not the only thing from Clementine's past that is still haunting her.

An Honest Man || When Daryl and Merle return to the prison, tensions are high as both children of the group get offended by their father figures.

How is Daryl Dixon, the least talkative of all people, going to apologise to Clementine?

A Stronger Girl  || Whilst fixing cars with Daryl (and Merle), Clementine ponders on whether she should tell the group where to find Ylva's group now that she's finally free of it. In the end, it's the last two people one would think to change Clementine's mind that convince her...

We're the Good Guys, Clem (Part 1) || With Clementine revealing the location of the group after her, Rick makes a risky decision to take some of the group’s fighters to go after them despite the Governor looming on their doorstep. Meanwhile, Merle finds more reasons to provoke Daryl.

We're the Good Guys, Clem (Part 2) || Worried about Daryl as he goes after Ylva's group, Clementine finds herself stuck in her emotions until she cannot keep it together anymore...

We're the Good Guys, Clem (Part 3) || New alliances are made. Tyreese doesn't like what Woodbury seems to be, but Kenny is blind to it all. Rick doesn't like what he is turning into, meanwhile Clementine might have finally found a friend in Carl.

Bracelets and Unexpected Visitors || A calm before the storm settles over the Prison group now that Rick, Daryl and Glenn swear that there are no people after Clementine anymore. But there are still enemies out there, and although Daryl and Clementine are as close as ever, will it last...?

Based on story:

All on His Lonesome (only on AO3 atm, sorry) || At Daryl Dixon's grave, Clementine copes with her father figure's death with the help of Judith Grimes.

AO3 link to AU work (limited access - only those with AO3 account)

my carrd

← back to blog masterlist

[paintyoureyeswithavividmind]

close to home | chapter forty three

close to home | chapter forty three

plot: the reader is brought to her new life at the Sanctuary, and makes a friend that saves her life

series masterlist

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 2,232 Warnings: violence, blood, typical twd A/N: thank you for reading!!!

Darkness consumed you once again for many, many hours. You didn’t move from the spot on the floor, curled up in a ball. Your tears, which once were a never-ending wave, finally dried. You were given food thrice a day, so you assumed it had been two days from the six meals you'd eaten. Negan visited one, but you turned your back to him on the floor and refused to talk or move.

You were in and out of consciousness as you fell out of shock, and there were times when your mind hurt so severely you wished for it again. 

Glenn’s face was all you could picture throughout the day, and Maggie’s screams haunted you. The guilt you felt about Glenn’s death was consuming. You didn’t know Negan would do that; you just wanted to save Daryl. And it came at the cost of Glenn. 

When the door opened, you flinched. You were expecting Negan again, but this time it was someone else. It was a woman. She was carrying a tray of food and sat down on the floor across from you, sliding the tray over. 

The food was similar to what you refused to eat earlier. 

“I’m Sherry,” The woman said. “It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N).”

You glanced at the woman and sat up. “What do you want?”

Sherry glanced outside at the door, at the man on guard. Then she looked back at you and nodded toward the food. “Negan sent me to talk to you. He’s taken a liking to you.”

“Yeah, well, he can go to hell,” You said. 

A ghost of a smile appeared on Sherry’s face before she blinked away the expression. “You need to submit to him. It’s only going to make things worse.”

“Submit?” You said, “What am I, a dog?”

Sherry looked down and slowly shook her head. “No. You’re smart. This favor with him will expire if you don’t use it to your advantage. Come on, I’m going to take you to our room. You can shower and meet everyone.”

You looked at her as if she was crazy, but you could see through the look on her face. She was unhappy. And she was trying to help you. So you took her outstretched hand and stood. 

“She’s not hungry right now. I’ll make sure she eats later,” Sherry told the guard, and he nodded to her. What kind of influence did she have over the men?

You followed Sherry quietly down the hallway, after hallway, up many flights of stairs. The area was still a maze to you, and you knew trying to figure it out was pointless. So you focused on the back of Sherry’s head as you walked. 

Finally, you reached a long corridor with a few rooms, and she led you to the last one. It opened into a sitting room with a few couches and a minibar in the back and was beautifully decorated. It was much nicer than anything you’d seen at the Sanctuary. 

A few women were sitting around the room, all in matching black dresses and heels. They all stared at you as you entered, and you felt out of place. You were grimy and dirty, and you knew the exhaustion and depression were evident on your face. They all looked beautiful. They looked clean. 

“This is Amber, Frankie, and Tanya. There are more of us, but they are probably eating dinner downstairs.” Sherry said to you. 

“I don’t understand,” You said. 

Sherry looked at you, “Follow me." 

You did as she asked and was led out of the room and up the hallway. “Mine is across the hall; this one will be yours,” She explained, pushing open a door and leading you into a room. 

It was small, and it reminded you of a studio apartment. There was a bed, a mini kitchenette, a sage green recliner chair, and a television set. There were even windows that let you look out around the compound. It was the first time that you got a look at the area. 

“What is this?” You asked. 

“This is what could be yours if you submit. If you say that you’re Negan.” Sherry shut the door behind you and sat down on the bed. “He wants you to be one of us.”

“One of what?” You asked, wiping your hand along the counter. There was a toaster oven, a deep sink, and a full-sized refrigerator. 

“One of his wives.”

Your hand stilled, and you turned back to look at her. “His wives?”

“There’s a group of us. The girls you just met, and a few more you’ll meet later. Negan took a liking to you. He likes your attitude and the way you talk to him.”

“You can’t be serious.” You shook your head. “I would rather die.”

“And Daryl?” Sherry asked, “What about him? Are you prepared to let him die? He’s here.”

“What?” Your fingers twitched.

“Negan took him. I overheard him talking to Dwight about wanting Daryl to work for him. He knows you care for him, that he cares for you. That will be a weapon.”

You leaned against the counter and crossed your arms. “He’ll kill Daryl if I don’t marry him?”

A ghosted look crossed Sherry’s features. “It might not be that. But it’ll be something. All of us… we all needed something we couldn’t get, so we married him.” 

Your fingers twitched, and you felt tears burning your eyes. “If I say yes, how will I know he won’t hurt him?”

“Negan’s a man of his word,” Sherry said. “I know it doesn’t seem like it. But he is. (Y/N), I want to help you. I know what you’re going through. When he comes to you tonight and asks you who you are, just say you’re Negan. You’ll be treated good by him.”

Your stomach flipped, and you felt bile rise. You rushed to the garbage and emptied the contents of your stomach. Sherry was by your side instantly, pulling back your hair and rubbing your back. 

“I know, I know.” She whispered to you. “Dwight was my husband before and after. But I had to marry Negan to save him. I live with it. So can you. If he loses interest, he won’t kill you. You’ll be a worker, working for points and barely making it. Just say yes, (Y/N).” 

You were crying as you knelt back, wiping your mouth with your hand. “What are they doing to Daryl?”

“Whatever it takes to break him. Marrying Negan will be the only way you might be able to help him. I'm sorry, (Y/N).”

***

Sherry took you to the bathrooms and waited for you to wash up. She gave you one of her dresses and a matching pair of heels and then helped you get ready to see Negan. You felt sick. You felt like throwing up again and again, but you could only focus on Daryl. 

Of course, you were going to do whatever you needed to do to keep him safe. You would be Negan’s wife if it meant Daryl would live. That was what you could do for him. You knew Daryl wouldn't break. You knew he would rather die standing than submit. So you had to do what little you could to protect him. If he were to die, if you lost him... you'd never recover.  

You were sitting in the wives' room with the others, partially listening as they spoke. They didn’t talk about anything substance, and they all had a drink except Sherry. You knew Negan would be here any minute, and you were anxious. 

When the door opened, he walked in, and all the girls dropped to their knees. You looked at them for a few seconds before slowly doing the same. 

“Ladies,” Negan said, and they all moved to stand up. 

You did the same and glanced at Sherry. She gave you a nod of encouragement. 

“Oh my goodness,” Negan exclaimed as he walked around to the couch toward you. “Did you do all this for me? You shouldn’t have, baby,” Negan said. 

You stayed silent and slowly raised your head, meeting his gaze. Negan stared at you with that smile that made your skin crawl, and you brought your shaking hands together in front of you. 

“Who are you?” 

Your mouth was dry, and you felt dizzy. “I’m-I’m… I’m Negan.” You said, closing your eyes for a moment. The words were ash in your mouth, and you wanted to take them back, but not at the cost of Daryl’s life. 

Negan looked at Sherry for a moment and then turned back to you. “Well, I guess I gotta ask the only other question that matters. Will you be my wife, baby?”

“Yes.”

Your lips trembled as he approached you, and you prepared yourself mentally for the kiss he was heading towards. But at the last second, he changed direction and kissed your cheek. “Welcome to the family, baby,” 

When the doors shut behind him and he was gone, your knees went weak, and you fell back onto the chair, sobbing. Sherry came over to you and wrapped her arm around you. “You did good, (Y/N), you did good. It’ll get better.” 

***

The following day was the first time that you saw Daryl. You’d been pacing your room repeatedly, heels clicking and hurting, when you heard a commotion outside. You had run to your window to see and saw him. 

It looked like he had almost escaped but was caught. And your eyes filled with tears when you saw Negan approach him with the bat. Your hands shook against the glass, and you wanted to scream at him. 

But Negan didn’t kill him. And you knew Sherry was right. 

When Negan left, and the group of saviors advanced, you couldn’t stand watching them beat Daryl. You had to look away for a few minutes and then watched them drag his body back inside to a part of the compound you knew you couldn’t reach. 

***

Later that day, Sherry gave you a tour of the Sanctuary. You knew the floor you were on after walking back and forth, all the rooms belonged to the wives, and Negan was on this floor as well, but you didn’t know where. 

But she showed you other areas. You learned where Negan’s men were mainly housed, but it was spread out, and there were rooms in between that she didn’t show you. 

Sherry took you to the bottom level, where you saw just how many people lived and worked in the building. She showed you the trading post and walked with you around the floor. 

“If you see something you want, just go up to the table and take it. You don’t wait in line,” Sherry told you. 

“What?”

She looked around the room and spotted a table where one of the baker’s tables was. The line wasn’t long, and most workers couldn’t afford the points needed to buy them. But the saviors made the baker do it anyway. 

“Come on,” Sherry said. 

You followed her to the table, hesitantly waiting behind her as she grabbed an entire pie from the table. Without saying anything, she turned to you. “We take what we want when we want.”

You didn’t respond as you followed her to what looked like a cafeteria. There was a mix match of tables, with a few people eating. Sherry made you sit and wait and then came back with two forks. 

“You’re one of Negan’s wives now,” Sherry told you. “We have full access to anything we want. If you want it, you need to take it. We’re untouchable.”

You watched as she started eating, and when your stomach growled, you copied her actions. It wasn’t the best pie you’d ever had, but it was better than anything you’ve eaten since the end of the world. 

“Why do you do it?” You asked, “You see how these people live.”

“Because we can.”

“And what do we do in return? Besides dressing like this.”

Sherry’s eyes glazed over, and she forced herself to eat another piece. “You’re expected to do what wives do.”

You nodded slowly. “I’m going to have to fuck him.”

“He’ll give you an adjustment period. But eventually… we all have to.” Sherry said sadly. 

You shook your head and forced yourself to eat a few more bites. Between the two of you, nearly half of it was eaten in a few minutes. 

Someone sat at the table across from you, and you and Sherry jumped. You could tell from the look on her face that this wasn’t usually for her. “Jake, what do you want?” She asked him. 

The man--Jake--ignored her and stared right at you. “My brother was in that outpost you gunned down.” He said. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat and straightened your back, not allowing him to frighten you. “That sucks,” You said. 

Jake chuckled and shook his head momentarily before standing up and walking away. 

Sherry grabbed your arm and looked at you. “You need to be careful. You’re untouchable now, but that doesn’t mean people won’t try. And stay away from Jake. He’s not someone you wanna be around.”