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painted-devils-if · 1 year ago
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Are we allowed to know the coping mechanisms/vices? Also Juliette and Val already have me in a headlock, I can already tell I'm going to get betrayed/fucked over at some point
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I absolutely can anon! And I can neither confirm nor deny the presence of any betrayals 🥰🥰
MC’s coping mechanism is a habit MC has developed because of events prior to the start of the book. The coping mechanisms are as follows:
Drugs: MC has been turning to drugs to feel good, to bliss out on a good high for a few hours and pretend that nothing exists but them and this high
Alcohol: MC has been turning to drinking, partying hard enough to have a sloppy good time, blackout, and then forget all kinds of things
Physical fighting: MC has started getting into fights, they want to hurt and be hurt, to fight out that adrenaline and come home with bruises and bloody knuckles
Hyperfixation (specifically on academics): MC has become so obsessed with studying that it’s sometimes all they can think about. For days. No sleep, little food, few cares in the world other than intensive studying
Each MC will choose one coping mechanism, which will play an important role in their story. However, all the coping mechanisms will show up throughout the course of the book because MC isn’t the only one feeling the need to cope…
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ilomilodailystuff · 4 months ago
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Okay. I see the fandom panicking and even starting to destroy itself...
For the ones who still love GO and would continue to love it as they always did but is judged because of ONE☝️ person's actions that might or might not be true, know you're safe here and I wouldn't judge you for loving GO despite Neil's accusations.
Because you gotta keep in mind that this show AND book are also Terry's. And you have to keep in mind that Neil wasn't alone in that project. Think about all the people that worked on the show, whether it's the crew or the actors. They're absolutely innocent, so why would you spit on their work as if they were guilty too ? Of course none of them would support Neil's actions if it's true, that doesn't mean we have to throw every poster or book or drawing or delete every fanfic or even stop writing fanfic because of this as if everyone were in the same boat.
These accusations are about Neil and Neil only and I would find it kinda sad that this story would be thrown away despite Terry had worked on it too, despite it also was in his memory. Ofc, if it's true, it's obvious Terry wouldn't be okay with it either but does that mean a story fully achieved and their characters have to be condemned with Gaiman ? Mostly when now, a lot of illustrators, writers and animators made it their own ? Mostly when it somehow saved many people's lives ? Mostly when this book or show had made people laugh and cry ?
This fandom is stronger than that.
Let's not mix everything.
Would you find it appropriate to talk about GO to the victims ? Obviously, no. For the sole reason that it's not. the same. thing. We have to put things back in their places. GO is GO, harassment and s*xual aggression are what they are. And it would be incredibly disrespectful to mix both.
So, my point is. Don't be ashamed to love GO despite what's happening. Don't feel guilty for supporting a show while you don't support the author. Don't let the fandom die because of one person's actions when there's so many people who worked on it almost just as much. I understand you're upset, I understand you'd think it might be hypocritical to love a show with the creator being accused of horrible things. But make the difference.
And I can assure you, if Neil is not guilty (and if he is, I hope the victims will get justice and Neil will have what he deserves) I'm pretty sure that he's not thinking about Good Omens at all right now, but just thinking about sorting this out and clearing his name as every innocent person would need to do so.
So, whether the truth is hurtful or a relief, let's keep the GO fandom going. For if it's hurtful, we will make Terry's story alive for his and many people's sake, and if it's a relief, we would have been doing things right by not jumping into conclusions.
Either way, you're welcome here and you're safe with me. Keep loving. Spread some joy. Don't let Neil's possible actions stain a wonderful story that is not only his own ❤️
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doraminatook · 3 months ago
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I wrote a spec script for Good Omens.
This past week, I was out to coffee with a friend of mine and we got to talking about writing (as we often do). She has more of a television/movie background while I have more of a theatre background.
In the midst of our discussion, she brought something called a "spec script". When asked what exactly that was, she explained (at least in terms of television), it's an unprompted and uncommissioned script written for an already established show. The purpose is to help demonstrate a writer's ability to match the style, format, and voice of a show they didn't create.
Immediately, I said, "That just sounds like fanfiction!"
(Obviously, it's not, but I enjoyed the parallels nonetheless.)
So, of course, I had to write a spec script. (Season 3, episode 1 of Good Omens.)
Let it be known that I did not do this in the hopes of joining the writing team as I know Neil has that MORE than covered. I just did it for fun, but I'm really proud of it and I hope you head on over to AO3 and take a look at it.
Probably too many swear words. Probably too much AziraCrow too quickly. Probably too blasphemous. Definitely wonky formatting.
But I had fun! And that's what fanfic is all about.
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heohl-art · 3 days ago
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My dears🩷 Do you remember my GO fanart Double Affair? Well, the talented aurora_orphic on AO3 is writing a fic inspired by it!✨
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READ IT HERE!✨
I literally devoured this first chapter!🌹
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b1xi · 2 months ago
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𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙖 𝙡𝙤𝙩, 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧
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Glenn rhee x reader
Word count:3752
Warninig: fluff, dead, blood
Pt2 , Pt3
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You ran as fast as your legs would allow, stumbling up the stairs while trying not to fall. Behind you, the growls and gasps of the creatures—those who were once your neighbors—roared loudly, almost deafeningly. The upper floors offered no solace; the walls were splattered with blood, silent witnesses to a recent massacre. The air was thick, heavy with death and despair, and each step brought you closer to the unknown, to a possible trap or, perhaps, an unlikely salvation.
By the time you reached the fifth floor, the situation had become even more macabre. Two of those monsters, turned into insatiable predators, were devouring the mangled body of someone you had likely known in life. Horror gripped you; a scream formed in your throat, but you stifled it by covering your mouth with a trembling hand. You knew that the slightest noise could condemn you. There was no time for mourning or compassion. There was only one mission: survival.
Desperately, you looked around for an escape. The growls were getting closer. With no other options, you slipped into an apartment with an ajar door. Once inside, you moved cautiously, your hands gripping the small knife you carried, a pitiful defense but at least something to make you feel somewhat protected.
The living room showed no obvious signs of violence, except for some bloodstains that extended into the bathroom. You took a deep breath and headed for the kitchen, your heart pounding in your chest, searching for anything that might be useful. After a few minutes, you had gathered a small stash: cans of food, soda crackers, snacks, and water. It wasn't much, but it could make the difference between life and death. As you rummaged through the drawers for something more useful, a particular sound startled you.
The sharp cry of a baby broke the silence, coming from one of the rooms at the back. You stood still for a moment, trying to convince yourself that you had imagined it, but the crying persisted. You knew ignoring it wasn't an option. With hesitant steps, you moved towards the source of the sound, stopping in front of a door decorated with a small heart-shaped sign bearing the name "Alice." You pushed the door gently, revealing a pink-painted nursery, filled with drawings and toys scattered on the floor.
In the center of the room stood a white crib, and there, wrapped in blankets, a baby cried inconsolably. Her little face was reddened from the effort of crying, seeking attention, company... protection.
"Damn it," you whispered, this time with more resignation than fear. You looked around, hoping that at any moment someone—perhaps the baby's mother—would come running through the door. But no one came. Anxiety gripped your chest. You knew leaving little Alice there was a certain death sentence. The baby's cries already resonated as an open call to the monsters prowling the building.
With no other options, you took the baby in your arms. Her crying was desperate and incessant, and each passing second made you imagine that the things outside were drawing closer, attracted by the noise. As you rocked her gently back and forth, her sobs began to calm. Her tiny hands clung tightly to your shirt, and gradually, the crying turned into soft whimpers until, finally, it ceased. You sighed with relief, but the tension didn't fully dissipate. Every second was crucial.
You left the room with stealthy steps, Alice wrapped in your arms. The silence of the apartment was oppressive, and the feeling of being watched never left you. Keeping your gaze upwards, you walked down the hallway, vainly searching for any sign of life in the other rooms. But there was nothing. The place seemed deserted.
The bathroom, however, caught your attention. The door was locked, but through the gap beneath it, a faint beam of light filtered in. Something or someone was on the other side. You approached cautiously and pressed your ear against the wood, and horror overwhelmed you. A low, menacing growl resonated from inside, followed by a rasping sound: claws scratching the door.
You instinctively recoiled, fear freezing your blood. Whatever was trapped inside was not human. There was no doubt. Those creatures had reached this place, and surely whoever was locked in there would find a way out soon.
You quickly considered your options, aware that you couldn’t stay. The building was no longer safe, and probably neither was the city. Chaos was spreading like an uncontrollable fire. There was no alternative but to flee before nightfall made the streets even more dangerous. The creatures became more active at dusk, and the cover of darkness would only increase their numbers.
With trembling hands, you found a larger bag and filled it with essentials: supplies, some clean clothes, and everything you might need to care for your new companion, Alice. You fashioned an improvised sling and secured her gently against your chest. Her calm breathing contrasted with your own racing heart.
Leaving the building was easier than you had imagined. The creatures were scattered, hunting on other floors or in the streets. Moving with stealth and determination, you made your way to your car, parked not far from the main entrance. With Alice secured to your chest, you quickly got in and started the engine.
Three weeks had passed since you left the city. Those days felt like an endless nightmare. The first two weeks had been particularly exhausting: the roads were blocked with abandoned cars and wandering corpses, and you had no choice but to continue on foot. You walked through forests, taking shortcuts when you could, though it only heightened your paranoia. The constant crunching of leaves under your feet, the distant sounds of the infected, and the ever-present danger of being surprised kept you on high alert.
Dealing with Alice was another challenge. The baby cried incessantly, her relentless hunger forcing you to stop more often than you would have liked. Sometimes, you could only pray to find a safe place to rest. Sleeping was not an easy option; every nighttime noise, every shadow moving in the dark, was a potential threat.
As you pressed on, the physical and mental exhaustion began to take its toll. You wondered how much longer you could keep going. Alice needed more than you could offer alone. However, as if some higher power had heard your silent pleas, things changed the day you encountered the group.
It happened while you were exploring an abandoned house, desperate for food or diapers for Alice. Hunger and exhaustion were becoming unbearable, and each step felt like a burden. Entering a dusty room, the air thick with humidity and mildew, you were struck by the emptiness. The weight of reality hit you hard: there was nothing. You leaned against the wall for a moment, struggling against despair.
That’s when you saw him: a rugged man with a face hardened by life, holding a crossbow with an unsettling firmness. You had no idea how long he had been there, watching you. Instinctively, you stepped back, raising your hands in a gesture of surrender. The cold steel of his gaze pierced through you, and fear took hold. You were cornered, unsure if this encounter would mean the end.
The man did not lower his weapon but took a step closer, studying your every move. “Are you from the city?” he asked in a deep, authoritative voice. His tone made it clear that he was used to taking control of situations. His eyes quickly scanned the space behind you, as if expecting someone else to emerge from behind you. But he saw nothing.
The lump in your throat made it hard to speak, and for a moment, you thought your legs might give way. You could only nod, hoping it would be enough to placate him. The man kept his gaze fixed on you, evaluating, measuring every detail.
“Are you alone, or is there someone else with you?” he asked again, not softening his tone. Before you could answer, a second man appeared in the room. He was younger, with Asian features, and seemed to be with the first, as the latter showed no surprise upon seeing him. The younger man carried another weapon, though his posture
“There’s no one with me,” you managed to say, your voice trembling as you tried to stay calm. But at that moment, you felt Alice shift in the carrier, as if she was about to wake up. The faint movement of the baby immediately caught both men’s attention.
The younger Asian man slowly lowered his weapon, his expression softening as he assessed the situation. There was something in his gaze, perhaps empathy, or maybe just exhaustion. The crossbow man, however, did not immediately change his expression. His eyes dropped to the small bundle against your chest, and for a moment, the tension in the room became unbearable.
“Is that… a baby?” the young man murmured, incredulous. It seemed he hadn’t seen something so small and delicate in a long time.
You nodded once more, unconsciously tightening your hold on Alice, trying to protect her as best as you could. “Yes… it’s just her and me,” you replied with more confidence than you actually felt.
“What’s your name?” asked the young Asian man, his voice softer than the armed man’s.
“My name is Y/N, and she is Alice,” you answered, feeling a slight calm beginning to settle inside you. You gently stroked Alice’s back, trying to keep her calm. Still, you couldn’t ignore the discomfort caused by the young man’s continuous gaze.
“I’m Glenn, and this is Daryl,” Glenn introduced himself, taking a step toward you and extending a friendly hand. Although you appreciated the gesture, you opted to keep your distance, your survival instinct still on high alert. Glenn noticed your hesitation and lowered his hand, not offended but maintaining his friendly tone.
Daryl, however, had not entirely lowered his guard. His crossbow was still ready, though now aimed at the ground. The tension in his jaw and the coldness in his eyes kept you on edge. The air felt dense, heavy, as if something could go wrong at any moment.
Glenn placed a firm but calm hand on Daryl’s shoulder, trying to ease the situation. “Calm down, she’s not a threat. Look at her, she’s alone with a baby. Let her breathe.” His conciliatory tone managed to soften Daryl’s stance a bit.
Daryl exhaled slowly and finally lowered the crossbow completely, though not without issuing one last warning. “Alright. But I recommend you get out of here before nightfall. It’s not safe to be out in the woods at this hour, especially with a child.” His tone made it clear that he was giving advice rather than making a threat.
You nodded quickly, aware that you didn’t have many options left. The sun was beginning to set, and although you had survived until now, you knew you couldn’t keep going alone for much longer. The city had been hell, and now the forest was proving to be just as dangerous.
“Listen, Y/N,” Glenn interrupted, his voice much softer, almost a whisper. “We have a camp not too far from here. It’s not much, but it’s well-protected, and we have supplies.” His eyes, which had been cautious before, now reflected something more. Empathy, perhaps. “You don’t have to keep wandering alone. You could stay with us. Alice would be safer there.”
His words resonated in your mind. The offer seemed too good to be true, but desperation was beginning to take over. You glanced at Alice, feeling her small, warm, and vulnerable body against yours, and realized you could no longer afford to keep testing your luck. The walkers outside would show no mercy, and you knew you’d soon run out of strength.
“I don’t want to cause any trouble,” you said, unsure. Although Glenn’s offer seemed sincere, something inside you still doubted. You had seen the worst of people in recent days, and distrust had become second nature.
“You won’t be a problem,” Glenn replied with a kind smile. “There are more people at the camp, and we’re all in this together. We can’t promise you an easy life, but we can offer you safety and some peace. At least, for a while.”
You looked at Daryl, searching for any sign that the proposal was genuine, but his expression remained impassive, as hard as a rock. However, by not objecting to Glenn’s offer, he seemed to be giving his tacit consent.
Finally, you nodded, letting a little relief seep into your thoughts. “Alright. I’ll go with you.”
After what felt like hours of walking, you finally descended a hill and before you was a scene that, in another time, would have been a mundane sight: an improvised camp with cars and a trailer. However, now, amidst the chaos, it represented a refuge, a possibility of rest, and perhaps, safety.
Glenn turned to you, noticing your exhaustion. “We’re almost there. It’s better than being out there, believe me.” He smiled, a mix of relief and concern in his gaze. Daryl, for his part, kept his distance, still vigilant with his crossbow ready, though he had stopped aiming it directly at you. He seemed to trust Glenn more than the situation.
As you emerged from the dense forest, the camp Glenn had mentioned became visible through the trees. With each step, your legs felt heavier, and the sweltering heat made sweat trickle down your forehead and body. Glenn briefly stopped to check that you were still following, offering a supportive smile, while Daryl, in his own way, stayed alert, his crossbow always at the ready.
Finally, you reached a small clearing in the forest and turned left. That’s when you saw it: the camp. Just as Glenn had said, there was a trailer blocking a slope, and next to it, a smoldering campfire. Near the campfire, a picnic table and several chairs formed an improvised circle. A bit farther away, several tents were grouped around a small path cutting through the vegetation. The place looked humble but safe.
You had taken only a few steps when a burly man with an expression of both alertness and distrust approached quickly. “What’s going on, Glenn?” he asked in a deep, firm voice. He was Shane, who seemed to be leading the group at that moment.
Glenn raised a hand to calm him. “Everything’s fine, Shane. She’s from the city. She’s alone… and has a baby.”
Shane cast a quick glance at Alice, his expression softening slightly before turning back to you. “Alone, you say?”
“Yes, we checked,” Daryl interjected, finally lowering the crossbow but not taking his analytical gaze off you.
“Well, it’s better to talk to the rest,” Shane said in a less aggressive but still firm tone. “Lori and Carol are with the kids; maybe they can help with the baby.”
You observed several people engaged in various activities. Two blonde women, one clearly older than the other, were sitting and cleaning what you assumed were freshly caught fish. Further along, a dark-skinned woman was resting next to a burly man with a serious expression, who was relaxing in one of the chairs near the campfire. On top of the trailer, an older man with a fishing hat kept a calm watch from his position, holding a rifle firmly, as if he might need it at any moment. To your right, you noticed a Latino man and another taller man wearing a cap, checking a couple of cars.
Glenn, who stayed by your side, gave you a reassuring glance before speaking. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to the group.” He took a few steps forward, guiding you toward a pair of women sitting at an old picnic table.
“Hi, girls,” Glenn greeted with his usual friendly tone. “I want to introduce you to Y/N.” He made a hand gesture indicating for you to come closer.
The tall woman with brown hair, holding her son on her lap, looked up with a warm smile. “Hello,” she said as she stood up kindly. “I’m Lori, and this is my son, Carl.” She extended a friendly hand towards you, her smile genuine, as if trying to offer you some of the peace you were missing at that moment. You shook her hand in return.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.
Glenn then turned to the woman next to her, who had a more reserved appearance but a calm presence. “And these are Carol and her daughter, Sophia,” Glenn continued, pointing to the little blonde girl playing with a rag doll.
Carol looked up with a discreet but warm smile. “Nice to meet you, Y/N,” she said softly, while Sophia looked at you with shyness, hugging her doll a bit tighter.
Lori noticed the small sleeping bundle in your arms, and her face softened even more. “Is that… your baby?” she asked delicately, as if trying not to invade your personal space.
The question gave you a pang in your chest, and you felt a brief wave of sadness. You shook your head slowly, looking at Alice with tenderness. “No… I’m not her mother.” The words came out in a whisper laden with sorrow, reminding you of how much Alice had lost in such a short time. “Her parents… are gone.”
Lori didn’t press further or ask more questions, understanding the pain implicit in your answer. She simply nodded with a slight smile that aimed to be comforting. “She’s very cute,” she commented gently. “You’re lucky to have her with you.”
After a brief silence, Glenn took charge of the situation again, now that everyone had been introduced. “Well, let’s see if we can find a place for you.” He gestured for you to follow him, leading you to the area where the tents were set up.
Walking together along the path between the tents, Glenn gave you a smile. “You know, we don’t usually get many visitors. I think Daryl thought you were here to steal our fish,” he joked, raising an eyebrow with a small laugh.
You returned the smile, grateful for the attempt to ease the tension. “Well, if I ever get to that point, you’ll know I’m desperate.”
Glenn chuckled and nodded. “You’re right, I wouldn’t mind if it’s for survival. Although, in that case, I’d offer you one myself. I work hard to keep us stocked,” he said with a wink.
As you arrived at a small cleared area, Glenn stopped in front of his tent. “We don’t have a tent for you yet, but you can use mine until we sort something out. Don’t worry, I can sleep in the trailer, there’s enough space,” he offered without hesitation.
You gave him an incredulous look, grateful but also a bit embarrassed. “Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”
Glenn made a casual gesture with his hand. “Don’t worry, I’ve slept in worse places than the backseat of a car. Besides, how often in life can you say you were a gentleman and offered your tent to a lady?”
You smiled, feeling a bit more relaxed with his sense of humor. “Well, I guess I’m lucky to have met a gentleman in these times.”
Glenn returned the smile, apparently pleased that his joke helped you feel more comfortable. “You know, if you need anything else, don’t hesitate to ask. We’re a small community, but we take care of each other. And now that you and Alice are here, that includes you two as well.”
You felt deeply grateful for his kindness, something that already felt rare in such a shattered world. “Thank you, Glenn. It really means a lot.”
You entered the tent, grateful for the brief moment of tranquility. You knelt on the ground, observing what was in the small space: a sleeping bag, a backpack, and a couple of neatly folded clothes on one side. It was simple but cozy, and at that moment, you realized how exhausted you were. You sighed as you unfastened the harness holding Alice and gently placed her on the floor so she could move and stretch.
The baby, always restless, took advantage of her freedom and began to crawl around the small space. Despite the circumstances, seeing her curiosity about the world brought a small smile to your face. “You really need a good bath,” you commented softly, as if the little girl could understand your words. Alice, of course, simply looked at you with those lively eyes, emitting a babble as she smiled, completely oblivious to the harshness of the outside world.
With a clumsy but determined movement, Alice crawled back to you, raising her little arms as if wanting to be picked up. “Again?” you murmured, lifting the little one and holding her against your chest. “I’ve spoiled you too much, haven’t I?” you said with a slight laugh, as Alice rested her head on your shoulder, her small body immediately relaxing in your arms.
You gently stroked her back, feeling her breathing calm and steady. The need to protect her enveloped you strongly, like a silent promise you had made without even realizing it. This new place, this camp full of strangers, represented a risk, yes, but also an opportunity. An opportunity to find a respite, at least for a while, so that both of you could regain your strength.
Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all. Despite the initial distrust and the evident dangers of the outside world, these people seemed, at least, more human than what you had encountered before. Glenn had been kind, and the others had shown no signs of rejection. There was a certain sense of community in the camp, a spark of hope that seemed hard to find in these times.
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orchard-bliss · 6 months ago
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Maggie Nelson, Bluets
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witchthewriter · 1 year ago
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𝐍𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞
⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  
a/n: okay so I'm making this post because I found ... this audio on youtube (it's sfw dw) and it really made me want to write about the reader as this badass bitch who Negan absolutely adores. Otherwise, I find it really difficult to write for Negan in this timeframe. But the audio made me ... goddamn fall in love.
Warnings: at the end there's blood, and a knife - not used in violence though.
ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ    
ENTP
Slytherin
Evil Neutral > Chaotic Neutral
4 of Wands Reversed
Gemini Sun, Sagittarius Moon, Scorpio Rising
𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿
・He had found you in one of the only secluded places there were at the Sanctuary
・Then this voice came out of nowhere, a voice you know well, one you had ... fantasised about for a while
・But outwardly, you pretended that you were doing this just to get by
・However, you had learned a lot from the people around you, from Negan, but mostly from Michonne when you were with her group
・It was long history. But eventually, your ideas didn't align with Rick's. And to the dismay of Michonne and yourself, you decided to leave.
・It hurt. You had friends in Rick's group, you truly did. But they followed him blindly. Just how Negan's group followed him blindly.
・But all your family had died, there was no one left you had to look out for. To love. Rick didn't even leave his kids in your presence alone. Just because of your ideologies - that maybe there is no right or wrong anymore.
・And then Negan killed Glenn, and Abraham and so many others and you felt so lost.
・But somehow, anyway, you ended up at the gates of the Sanctuary.
・It had been a month in and you were finding difficulties left and right.
・No one accepted you, no one wanted to trust one of Rick's group. They thought you were sent here to spy on Negan. But you did everything to prove yourself.
・And as time went on, you saw Negan's bravado.
・And ... you liked it. Even when it came down when two were together, you still liked his charm. The way he thought. But you could also see the hurt from his past. And how that influenced how he acted today.
・The words he spoke made you tingle, they made you blush (although you concealed it so well that Negan couldn't see it.)
・And when he was pouring his heart out to you, you tried to keep a straight face. Not let him see how you truly felt. Because if you did, then you would have nearly body slammed him to the floor and kissed him until you both couldn't breathe.
・Knowing that the leader of the Sanctuary, THE Negan, wanted you and only you - made you feel ontop of the world.
・And then he did something that you didn't expect.
・He made everyone assemble inside.
・And announced that you were his and only his and then he was only yours.
・That even though the war between Rick and them was still happening, Negan wanted someone solely to himself.
・In other words, Negan's personal life was just as important as the war ...
・When he made all his subjects kneel, and kissed you on the lips, you felt a rush of ... power. Of ... royalty, authority, control.
・It made you buzz.
・When it was just the two of you again, and Negan brought up the wedding, you nearly died.
・Had this been a joke? You thought so, but when you brought up your hesitancies, Negan looked at you with pure shock.
"Hell baby, I know you don't want to hear it, but these past few weeks, I've been giving you test after test."
"What? No you haven't, I would have notice-"
"That was the point, they weren't supposed to be noticeable baby."
"Negan, I - I honestly don't understand."
"Baby, you passed every single one of them. And I know you are the one for me. The only, one for me."
・Even before the apocolypse you never thought you would get married. You never thought someone would want you in that way.
・But apparently your strengths, the things that others saw as weaknesses - was what Negan loved.
"Okay, to make it even though, Mr Smith," you looked up at him with mischief in your eyes. The type of mischief that could breed chaos.
"Hmmm?" Negan said with a raised eyebrow, mirroring your smile.
"I want you to undergo a test." Your voice was light, airy, innocent.
"Anything for you, sugar," he nearly growled.
𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾🔞𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒐𝒓𝒔 𝒅𝒏𝒊!
"Knife." You demanded and he pulled the one from his boot. The one he had his closest confidant clean and sharpen every morning.
・He passed it over to you without hesitation.
"Hand," you flipped yours out and he put it over your own.
"Repeat after me," all your words contradicted your eager face. Firm and strong, it excited Negan. But he kept that in.
・You looked at the shiny blade for a moment and admired it. Not too big, not too short, the perfect size for this.
"With my blood, I devote to you my love," you said, and waited a moment for Negan to do the same.
・He readied his throat and looked you straight in the eyes. His were glistening, and yours, gleaming.
His voice was deep, low, "with my blood, I devote to you my love."
・Without taking his eyes from you, you sliced the blade over his palm and did the same to yours.
・It stung, and blood wept from the wound. Faster than you had inticipated.
"And as we merge our blood together, we are now forever bound."
・You saw a hint of his eyes bulging, but only for a second.
・This was it. The final test to see if his words wrung true.
But his gaze flicked back to yours and nodded, "and as we merge our blood together, we are now forever bound."
・You clasped your hands together and let the blood mix.
"Blood of my blood," you whispered. Kissing the back of his hand.
・Where once held a smile, now had a stoic face. Knowing that now you truly were his one and only wife.
・Negan's eyes met yours.
"Bloof of my blood," he growled and leaned over the table to kiss you.
・Your hands stayed linked like that for nearly thirty minutes. Neither wanting to break free.
・An hour after you both decided you could let go. Negan went and sat in his chair, slapping the chair beside you.
With a beer in hand, he said, "I can't believe my wife's got me doing witchy shit," and he gave a chuckle.
"Husband," you said while grabbing the knife and walking over to the seat beside him, this isn't just "witchy shit, it's witchcraft." And then you licked the blood from the knife.
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dk-thrive · 2 years ago
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"Poetry - and writing in general - is a solitary vocation. But I have never felt alone in it. I am not alone in it now. Look, you're here, too.
Maggie Smith, Keep Moving: The Journal: Thrive Through Change and Create a Life You Love (via Whiskey River)
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lavenderknivess · 1 year ago
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it’s just me and the other 3? vinylatte authors against the world
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micamicster · 2 months ago
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I have GOT to get my shit together and write the stupid ya novel I have inside me
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painted-devils-if · 1 year ago
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RO's height?
Of course my dear anon
Theo: 6’1”
Val: 5’3”
Juliette: 5’9” (but she slouches so she looks 5’8”)
Oliver: 5’8”
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xenascribbles · 1 month ago
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Snippet Sunday
have a little sanctioned violence :)
🩸🩸🩸🩸
Velur holds his shoulders back as he struts down the hall, chin high and a glare pinned on Maggie. “Haven’t put her down yet?” he jests. “You’re wasting your time keeping her alive.”
“Watch it,” Anzurin warns, his own anger winding its way through his tone. “Are you –” he starts to ask, but as soon as Velur steps past the threshold into the office, Magdalena snaps.
She shoves Anzurin��s chair into the desk, pinning him for only a split second, but it’s enough to keep him from being able to grab her as she launches over the desk and slams into Velur. Rather than going for a bite or a scratch, she drops her shoulder and rams it into his chest. The hit knocks him to the ground, and she wastes no time in kicking him hard in the ribs. Just as his kick did to her, hers sends him sliding across the floor, a yelp leaving his cursed mouth as he slams into the doorframe. She manages to land one more kick to his shoulder before her arms are pinned to her sides and she’s lifted off of the ground entirely.
Magdalena doesn’t even fight to get loose, satisfied to watch Velur squirm in pain on the floor. She spits on him too, just for good measure.
“Magdalena, don’t spit,” Anzurin coos calmly in her ear, despite his rapid heartbeat against her back.
“What the fuck, Anzurin?” Velur spits as he stands. “Punish her! Fucking kill her.”
“No,” he scoffs. “I can’t even really get mad at her, because if I’m honest, Velur, I gave her permission to kick you.“
🩸🩸🩸🩸
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evadneares · 10 months ago
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"Bluets", Maggie Nelson
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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 2 years ago
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Words: 4,019 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female!Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: flashbacks, current day is S10, The Reapers Warnings: language, violence, gore, angst A/N: This is Part 1 of a new commissioned miniseries! Thank you to @ankhmutes​ for their generous support! Summary: Daryl loses Y/N in Atlanta and her absence colors his years.
Your name: submit What is this?
Atlanta – About 10 Years Ago
He could feel your hands clasping his face, your thumbs moving lightly over the bruising and swelling. His eyes fixed on the pout of your bottom lip and then moved up to swim in the depths of your irises. Fingers in his hair, the weight of you against his chest, the pressure of your fingertips dimpling into his sides. He could almost taste your lips again. He could almost catch your scent.
“God, what did they do to you?” You threw your arms around his neck and he pressed his hands into your back to hold you tightly against him. He could feel the shuddering of your breaths and the wetness of your tears falling on his shirt. “I thought I lost you for good,” you managed, pulling back to look into his face again. Your eyes were round and glassy. “And then to find you—but this way—those men.” You were trembling underneath his hands.
Daryl ducked his head. “‘M sorry. ‘M so sorry,” he managed to croak out. “I didn’t know they—I knew they were bad but I never thought—”
You hastily clasped his face again, brushing his hair away. “Shh. I know. I know… It’s not your fault.”
His breath hitched in his chest and he melted down into you again, hugging you tightly against him. “I ain’t ever lettin’ go of ya again.” You’d kissed him and your lips tasted salty with your tears.
“Daryl. Daryl… Hey, Daryl!” Carol grabbed him by the shoulder and he startled slightly. Her furrowed brow was heavy over her blue eyes. Daryl snapped back to the present.
He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Sorry…”
Carol straightened up, but the concern didn’t leave her face. “You good?”
He ducked his eyes and nodded. He wasn’t, but he had to be.
She sighed and looked back out the window at the expanse of burnt buildings unrolled before them. “We’re gonna find them. Both of them. Y/N and Beth.” She glanced back at the archer. His expression was grim and worn. She could feel the fear and anxiety radiating off him. “They’re both strong. They’ll be okay.”
Daryl shook his head and stared down at his hands. He was anxiously fiddling with a bit of glass. “After the prison fell, when we found each other again, I told her I wasn’t ever lettin’ go of her… I promised. And then we had Terminus… and now this… Fuck,” he swore under his breath. “Separated by a bunch of walkers?” He shook his head and leaned heavily on his hand against the window. “I shoulda made her stay at the church with everybody. Shouldn’ta even brought her into the city.”
Carol let out a soft laugh. “Made her?” she said. “Daryl, we both know no one can make Y/N do anything. She’s just as stubborn as you. Maybe more, though I don’t know if that’s possible.”
Daryl only sighed and looked over at Carol. She could see something looming, weighing on him. “I gotta tell ya somethin’.” Her brow furrowed. “Y/N is pregnant.” Carol’s breath left her in a whoosh of air. Daryl gulped, struggling to fight the tears in his eyes. “We just found out…”
Carol mustered her best smile. “You’re gonna be a dad,” she said. “Congratulations.”
Daryl paced a frantic circle, chewing on the side of his thumbnail. He turned and stared at Carol for a long moment, desperation on his face. “There were so many of them. What if she—what if she didn’t—”
“Hey. She did.” Carol grasped his shoulder hard. “She did. Y/N is a fighter. She learned from our best, you,” she said with a smile she hoped was reassuring. “She learned from you. And she’s smart. I’m sure she’s fine.”
Daryl ducked his head, his voice shaking, “‘M s’posed to protect her and I failed. I keep failin’ at it over and over.”
“Everything is going to be okay. We’re gonna find Beth and then we will go back and find Y/N. Okay? That is, if she doesn’t find us first.”
Daryl managed a nod, but that was all he had.
_ _ _ _ _ _
Noah limped up to the car and watched as Daryl frantically checked the area. “What are you looking for?”
“She’s—she’s s’posed to be here. Maybe she left somethin’,” he drawled, more to himself than anything. “She’s gotta be here.” He opened the gas cap and checked inside. Nothing. He looked on top of all the tires, under the hood. Nothing. He froze and pushed his sweaty hair back from his face. “Nah…”
Noah was looking around nervously. “It’s too open here. They could see us… We need to go. We have to go.”
Daryl slammed his fist down onto the hood of the car. How was it possible that he’d gone into the city on a rescue mission and lost two more of his family? He paced again, rubbing a hand over his face. He needed help. He needed the others. The last thing he wanted to do was leave the city, but he needed back-up. “C’mon,” he growled to Noah. “Let’s find a vehicle.”
_ _ _ _ _ _
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“Daryl.” Rick’s voice behind him. “We can’t stay here any longer. We have to move on.”
Daryl’s hand clenched into a fist. “Ya think she’s dead, too,” he said. The gravel and grit was thick in his voice.
Rick passed a shaky hand over his eyes and then stared at Daryl’s crumpled posture.
“Go on then. Leave me here.”
Rick sighed heavily. “I can’t do that.” He paced closer. “I won’t do that. You are my brother. You belong with us. I won’t leave you alone here. We all need each other more than—” he had to pause as his voice broke. He swallowed the lump and tightness in his throat as best he could. “More than ever.”
“I can’t,” Daryl managed. He dug his fingernails into the soil and grabbed fistfuls, just to try to ground himself with something. He’d been back into Atlanta every day for a week and he hadn’t found a damn trace of you. Nothing. And he knew the group was only waiting for him… but they couldn’t wait forever. “I can’t leave—”
Rick appeared beside him. “You have to,” he said with a sigh. When Daryl didn’t move, Rick sank down beside him and stared out at the trees. The muscle in his jaw tensed as he tried to hold back emotion. He sat in silence beside Daryl with his devastation for a long time before he finally spoke again. “When I lost Lori… when Carl was shot,” he glanced over at Daryl, “I wanted to give up. God, I wanted to,” he said softly. “I did for a while. I lost myself.” His eyes drifted up to the slices of sky he could see behind the wavering leaves of the trees overhead. “But we don’t get to give up. We keep going, because we are still here. Our family is still here and we all rely on each other. We keep going because we have to.”
Daryl sniffled and hastily wiped his forearm over his face.
“So, come on, brother,” Rick said, climbing to his feet and extending a hand down to Daryl. “Come on. On your feet.”
Daryl glanced up at Rick’s hand, his blue eyes clouded behind tears. He almost didn’t grab it. But he thought of Carl, and Judith, and Carol… of Maggie’s loss and Sasha’s… People still needed him. He clasped it. Rick tugged him to his feet.
“She ain’t gone,” Daryl said, straightening up. “I dun believe it.”
Rick nodded. “But we can’t stay. If we stay here, we die.”
Daryl felt the emptiness in his chest expanding like a black hole. “I’ll come. But I ain’t givin’ up on lookin’. She’ll get outta the city. She will. She’s gonna find us or I’mma find her.”
Rick nodded again, but his heart sank into the bottom of his stomach, like it was weighted with a lead anchor.
_ _ _ _ _ _
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About 9 and a Half Years Ago
Maggie saw that Daryl was still awake when she opened her eyes in the early hours after the storm. She stood softly and went to sink down beside him, looking over at the group scattered on the ground, sleeping. Their family. What was left of it. They’d lost Bob, Beth, Tyreese, and you. One after the other. Too many. Far too many… She glanced over at Daryl but he seemed to be pointedly looking away.
“He was tough,” he finally drawled, looking at Sasha sleeping across the barn.
“Yeah,” Maggie agreed. “He was.”
Daryl stared at his hands now, afraid to look Maggie in the eye and see her grief. “So was she,” he managed.
Maggie nodded. “Both of them were.” She put a hand on Daryl’s arm. “I’m sorry—in some ways, not knowing about Bethie, not knowin’ about what was happenin’ to her was worse than—than this… Wonderin’ if she was hungry or thirsty. Wonderin’ if she was scared. Just wonderin’…”
Daryl’s throat constricted into a knot. He nodded. “Ain’t no way those walkers took Y/N down… Ain’t no way. She’s too good for that.” Maggie heard the shake in his voice and sighed, leaning back against the rough wood of the barn wall.
“Then if she’s still out there, you two will find your way back to each other. I know it,” Maggie said. She glanced back over at him and mustered a sad smile. The pain on his face was clear. “Get some sleep, Daryl.”
After she walked away, Daryl laid down on his folded-up vest, but sleep didn’t come. His fingers found the rip in the side that you had stitched skillfully back together, tiny x’s of thread. They ran over and over it, just because your fingers had made it.
_ _ _ _ _ _
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About 10 Years Ago
The group stepped in through the gate cautiously, following Rick’s lead, looking with shock at the near perfect suburbia suddenly unrolling before their eyes. Everyone that is, except Daryl. His boots seemed to have rooted to the concrete.
Rick saw Aaron looking back and glanced over his shoulder. The archer was frozen, staring in across the opening of the gate.
Aaron happened to catch Maggie’s eye, a questioning look on his face, but Maggie said nothing. Aaron glanced back toward Daryl. He hadn’t moved.
“Carl,” he murmured. “Take Judith for just a sec.”
By now the rest of the group had noticed too, and they’d all stopped to look back. Rick walked back out and stopped beside him, his back to the community now. He sighed heavily and swallowed the tightness in his own throat. “We do this together,” he said, glancing over to try and read Daryl’s expression. It was impassive except for a violent turmoil in his blue eyes.
“Daryl—we need you. We’re all trying this together. We’re all much safer if you’re with us.” He clapped his hand strongly onto Daryl’s shoulder and the archer ducked his head, clearly wrestling with tidal waves of thoughts and emotions. “Come on. With us.”
The muscle in his jaw twitched as he ground his teeth together.
“Come on.”
Finally, his boots started to move and he crossed the threshold of the gate into Alexandria.
_ _ _ _ _ _
“You oughta come in. Take some sleep.” It was Maggie’s voice behind him on the porch.
Daryl stubbed out his cigarette on the step next to him. “I can’t,” he drawled, so quietly she almost didn’t hear it.
Maggie paced over and sank down next to him on the step, linking her arms around her knees. “I know,” she said, ducking her eyes down toward the sidewalk. “I’m so sorry. I keep thinkin’ it too.”
“What’s that?” Daryl asked, flicking his lighter open and closed.
Maggie lifted her eyes up to the innumerable stars overhead and pulled in a long, slow breath. “That maybe if we’d just gotten here sooner they’d be here to see it.”
Daryl felt like a knife twisted in the middle of his chest. It was so painful he almost doubled forward, but instead he hung his head and tried to breathe through it. When he spoke again, the struggle in his voice, his emotion was clear. “I know what ya’ll think,” Daryl managed.
Maggie glanced over at him and even in only the dim haze from the porch light she could see the glassiness in his blue eyes. “About what?”
“About—about—” He clenched his hand into a fist and pushed his knuckles down on the edge of the step as hard as he could. The pain shot through all his fingers and up his arm. He couldn’t get your name out. He couldn’t say it aloud. “‘Bout what happened,” he finally croaked out. “Ya’ll think she’s—she’s dead. I ain’t stupid. I see the way everybody’s lookin’ at me.”
Maggie’s hand landed on Daryl’s and she gave it a friendly squeeze. “I don’t think that.” Daryl’s eyes snapped up to hers. “I don’t. Because after the prison fell, I knew Glenn was out there. Even when everyone else was thinkin’ the worst, I knew he was alive. And we found each other again.”
Daryl sniffled and ducked his gaze again.
“Don’t ever give up on that, if that’s what you know.” Maggie gave his hand one more squeeze and her footsteps retreated across the porch and back into the house.
Daryl’s eyes lifted up to the night sky, and he hoped somewhere you were looking up at the same stars at the same moment.
_ _ _ _ _ _
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About 7 Years Ago
Daryl startled awake in the blackness of his cell.
A dream. It was just a dream reliving old memories. At the farm, the first time you’d shot a deer with a bow and tracked it on your own. You hadn’t even needed him. You’d followed the trail like an old pro. And then after… That’s when it had happened. Everyone else had gone to bed and he was sitting by his fire, his knife in his hands, turning the blade and watching the way the light bounced off the silver edge. And then suddenly—your soft footsteps behind him. He knew their cadence.
“I thought ya went to bed,” he’d said to you. You’d sighed and sat down on the round of wood next to him. He could feel your eyes on his face but he’d stared into the flames instead, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth.
“Nope,” you’d said. You just kept looking at him and he’d finally glanced over with his peripheral vision, barely turning, and it made you laugh. And your laugh made him smile. He’d ducked his head again though. Sometimes you were too bright to look at.
“What’re ya doin’ up still? Had a big day today,” he drawled.
You nodded. “Yeah. I often can’t sleep though.” You thought of the deer, of feeding your family. It had felt good. “It was a good day,” you sighed, moving toward him onto the edge of your round of wood. He’d nodded. It had been a good day. “I want you to know something, Daryl.” His name leaving your lips��it shot electricity through him every time like he’d stepped on a live wire in bare feet. His eyes met yours again. “You’re a leader of this group, even though you don’t feel like it. There are people looking to you.” He’d scoffed and shook his head, pricking his finger on the tip of his knife. “Don’t scoff. It’s true. Rick looks to you. Carol looks to you. And so do I.”
Daryl’s blue eyes met yours again and he watched the way the flickering firelight changed the shadows and highlights on your face. You looked steadily back at him. “And it’s not just because you’re good with a bow.” You suddenly scooted closer to him and smiled. “If it were, you’d be out of the job now because I—I am pretty damn good.” He’d laughed, the corners of his mouth tugging up, shaking his head at you. You were smiling at him. You seemed suddenly nervous and you glanced down at your laced fingers. He stared at the thick fray of eyelashes fanning out toward your cheeks. “I didn’t come over here just to brag about my newfound skills, though,” you said.
Daryl’s heart had jumped. He gulped nervously. “Why’d ya come then?”
Your eyes lifted, a little wide, and looked straight into his. “Daryl—”
He didn’t know what made him do it—maybe just the way you looked at him, the firelight, the stars, something in your voice, the electricity crackling in the air like fork lightning between you and him—but he suddenly dropped down on one knee toward you and was kissing you where you sat on that round of old oak wood, and to his amazement you were kissing him back fervently. Your fingers were in his hair and touching his bare skin, and he was clasping your face with one hand and resting his other hand on the soft skin of your upper arm.
Neither of you said anything for a long moment, but the light was sparking in your eyes and you were smiling at him and then biting your bottom lip. “Do you want to… come lay down with me? Maybe we’ll be able to actually catch some sleep.”
Daryl looked at you, baffled, but he nodded. “Hell yeah.”
It was just a memory, even if it was one of the best ones. He closed his eyes again, trying to empty his mind.
But suddenly in the dark he heard your voice.
“Daryl.”
He shot stiffly upright, pressing his back into the wall. The cold concrete was pressing into all his joints. They were stiff and painful.
“Daryl.” It was your voice again in the darkness.
Nah. Ya ain’t here. Ya ain’t here… I know that. Ya ain’t in here. Ya ain’t here… God, of all the places I hoped I’d find ya, this ain’t it. Ya ain’t in here with him.
Daryl swore you materialized just then, right in front of him. He could see you, see your softness, see the slope of your nose and shape of your lips in the narrow slip of light stealing in underneath the door of his tiny prison.
“No. I’m not in here with him. Or with you.” Your fingers ran down one of the strands of his hair and he could almost feel the gentle tug of it.
So, ‘m dreamin’ again. Or I’m finally batshit insane.
“You’re not broken, Daryl. They can’t break you.” You reached to clasp his face. He swore he could feel the warmth of your hand on his cheek, the light brush of your fingertips.
He couldn’t look away from your mirage. I’m barely hangin’ on in here. I can’t—
“You can. You’re stronger than any of them.”
Daryl felt wetness on his cheeks and realized he was crying. What happened to ya? Just tell me where ya are and I’ll get outta here somehow and I’ll find ya… Just tell me where ya are.
He could see glassiness in your eyes. “Just tell me where ya are!” This time he yelled it and it echoed in his ears, bouncing off the metal all around him.
“You’re going to be okay. Just keep going…” Your fingers were light under his chin and you were smiling back at him.
Don’t leave me. Please, dun leave me in here alone again.
“Hey. I’d never leave you alone. You know I’m always with you, no matter what. Just keep going.”
Y/N. Please—Y/N? Y/N!
More tears broke out over his cheeks, but the vision of you had vanished and he was back in the dark again. A quiet sob escaped him and he punched his fist into the wall until he couldn’t bear it anymore. He fell to the ground in a curled pile and cried as softly as he could until he had nothing left.
_ _ _ _ _ _
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About Five Years Ago
“Hi,” Carol emerged out of the brush, ducking beneath a low hanging branch, Dog leading her.
Daryl glanced up at her. “Hey. ‘S’goin’ on?”
She lifted up a small pack. “Nothing. Brought you some supplies.”
He nodded, watching her carefully. “Thanks.” Carol set it down beside the fire and scratched behind Dog’s ears. “Ya wanna tell me why ya really came back out here?” He fiddled with the strap over the handle of his knife.
“Can’t I visit my best friend? Have you found anything?” Carol asked, hazarding a glance up in his direction.
He ducked his head and shrugged. “Not yet. Got more places to check still.”
Carol nodded and went back to petting Dog. He watched her expression darken and tense.
Daryl stiffened. “What? Why dun ya just say it?”
Carol stood up. “Say what?”
“Whatever it is ya really came out here to say,” Daryl said.
Carol sighed. “I just—I wonder who it is you’re really searching for out here. Rick or her or maybe yourself… Daryl, it’s been five years since Atlanta and you haven’t found a single thing… Two years since we lost Rick and—”
Daryl’s jaw clenched and he nodded. “Ya want me to move on with my life, right? Come back, stop bein’ out here. That’s really what ya want.”
Carol looked down at her boots. “I want you to find some peace. I don’t want to lose you out here, okay? I don’t want to lose you because you don’t know when to stop.”
“Peace?” His blue eyes bore into Carol’s. “There ain’t no peace for me, alrigh’? You know what I lost in Atlanta. ‘M glad ya found yer peace, but I dun think that’s gonna happen for me.” He slung his pack on over his back and his expression finally softened some. “Ya ain’t gonna lose me. I just got things to do out here…
_ _ _ _ _ _
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One and a Half Years Ago
This was it. Maybe he’d managed to kill Alpha, he still wasn’t sure, but he was going to bleed out here on the floor. His vision was blurry and he fought the blackness creeping in from the edges as best he could.
Your face swam in his mind. Your smile. The texture of your hair between his fingers. The feeling of your silky skin and the curve of your spine when he’d trace his hand down your bare back as you both lay tangled in the sheets. If he was going to die… at least you were the last thing on his mind.
_ _ _ _ _ _
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Present Day – Twelve Years After the Outbreak
Daryl opened the door to Maggie’s shipping container. “‘S’all clear. Cole’s on watch.” She nodded and he stepped farther inside. “Hey, ‘m glad yer here. When yer letters stopped, I thought—I dunno. Maybe ya were gone.”
He watched thoughtfully as Maggie finished wrapping the fabric around the gash on her arm. She looked up at him and there was a teary smile on her face. “Ya better sit down, Daryl.”
His stomach twisted. “…Why?”
“‘Cause I got somethin’ to tell ya.”
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zoovs · 3 months ago
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My celebrity crush
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b1xi · 1 month ago
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𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘬𝘰𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥
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Glenn rhee x reader
Word count: 6987
Warninig: Blood, deaths, violence, bad words, use of weapons
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You let out a low groan, rubbing your eyes with fatigue as you tried to shake off the sleep. The pain in your back was intense, a result of an uncomfortable night. The rain that had relentlessly fallen the night before had turned the floor of the tent into cold, wet mud, and the constant patter of drops against the canvas roof had kept you awake. However, to your relief, Alice hadn't been disturbed by the noise. She was still sleeping peacefully on your chest, her small body curled up against you in the sling that held her.
You got up carefully, trying not to wake her while adjusting the sling to ensure she remained secure. With one hand, you gathered your hair into an improvised bun, the mess reflecting how exhausted you felt.
As you stepped outside the tent, the cool morning air greeted you. "Good morning," you greeted Rick, who was emerging from the tent he shared with Lori and Carl. He nodded in your direction, responding with a smile. Everyone was tired, but the dawn always brought a slight sense of relief.
Your gaze swept over the camp, looking for something to focus on, some purpose to distract you from the weariness. It was then that your eyes landed on Glenn, watching Morales and Jim, the three of them focused on the red sports car they had recovered the day before.
You moved a little closer, observing the scene unfolding in front of you. You couldn’t help but notice the look of disappointment on Glenn’s face as the other two men, Morales and Jim, dismantled important parts from the sports car. They were removing pieces to use for Dale’s RV, something necessary but clearly bothering Glenn. Rick also approached, instantly picking up on his friend’s dismay.
“They're like vultures,” Glenn muttered, his tone laden with sarcasm and frustration as he watched Morales effortlessly pull one of the car’s tires off. “Go ahead, take it all apart.”
The weight of disappointment was evident, and though he tried to mask it with humor, it wasn’t hard to see that he felt defeated.
Dale, aware of the situation, tried to ease things. “We need the fuel for the generators,” he explained in his slow, measured tone, giving Glenn a light pat on the shoulder to emphasize the need to prioritize the group’s well-being. “Without power, we won’t have light. I’m sorry, Glenn.”
“We can get another one,” you said softly, hoping to offer some comfort. Your tone was calm, almost hopeful. Glenn, with a small, forced smile, nodded, acknowledging the attempt to cheer him up.
Rick, always pragmatic, tried to lighten the situation with his own touch of optimism. “She’s right,” he said, looking at Glenn firmly. “Maybe we’ll steal another one someday. You never know what we’ll run into.”
He gave him a few pats on the back before moving on. You stayed by Glenn’s side for a few more moments, sharing the silence.
Glenn, breaking the quiet, finally turned to you, his gaze soft but curious. “Did you sleep well?” he asked, his eyes searching yours as if, for a moment, he wanted to set his mind away from the car problems and focus on something simpler—on you.
You shrugged, trying to soften the response you knew you’d give. “I tried, but last night’s rain made it hard to rest. Alice, luckily, didn’t seem to notice,” you said, with a small smile as you glanced down at the little one, who was still sleeping peacefully in the sling.
Glenn nodded slowly, his eyes settling on the baby before a warm, genuine smile formed on his face. “I see,” he replied, his tone low and comforting. Tenderly, he let his finger brush against Alice’s tiny hand.
Alice’s little hand stirred under Glenn’s gentle touch, and both of you shared a fleeting smile, the kind that comes from a moment of calm amid the chaos. However, the tranquility shattered in an instant when a piercing scream broke through the silence that had covered the camp like a fragile layer of security. Immediately, everyone turned toward the source of the sound, their bodies tense and alert.
“Stay here,” Glenn said firmly, his gaze filled with worry before rushing to follow the rest of the group. His departure left a void around you, but you didn’t move immediately. You were used to those kinds of orders, yet the uncertainty grew in your chest.
Before you could decide whether to follow him or not, you felt a firm hand on your arm. It was Dale, coming down from the RV, his usual serious expression now more urgent. “Stay,” he ordered, his voice harsher than usual, while adjusting his grip on the axe he was holding. Without another word, he headed toward where the others were already gathering.
“Shit,” you muttered under your breath, frustrated but with no alternatives. Slowly, you began walking toward where Andrea and Amy were standing, watching from a distance. Their faces reflected the same unease you were feeling.
When you arrived, you joined them, and from that vantage point, you could see how the situation was unfolding. Carl, Sophia, and Morales' kids were crying, their small figures trembling as they clung to their mothers’ clothes. The women comforted them as best they could, though their own eyes were filled with terror. Meanwhile, the men of the camp formed a circle, weapons in hand, surrounding something you couldn’t quite see from your position.
The unmistakable sound of a growl confirmed your suspicions: a walker. How the hell had one of them gotten inside the camp? The mere fact that one of those things had crossed the barriers they believed to be safe made your stomach churn. You pressed your lips together, wishing you could see better, wishing you could do something more than just watch. But for now, all you could do was wait and trust that the others would take care of the threat.
Then, a familiar sensation interrupted your thoughts. Alice was starting to stir in the sling, and a look of discomfort appeared on her little face, accompanied by an unmistakable smell. A smell that, in any other situation, would have made you laugh, but now only drew a resigned sigh from you.
“Ugh, Alice...” you muttered, grimacing as you shook your head slightly. You knew what was coming, and though you couldn’t blame her—she was just a baby, after all—the task ahead wasn’t pleasant. “Again? Really?”
You looked around with a mix of frustration and resignation, as if the chaos outside and the chaos of changing a diaper were part of the same endless nightmare. But there was no choice. Even though the world around you was falling apart, even though the dead walked among the living, life carried on with its small needs, even in the apocalypse. Alice needed to be taken care of, and you were all she had at that moment.
You quickly searched for a spot where you could take care of the situation, finding a small corner far enough from the central tension of the camp. You carefully knelt down, unfastening the sling and placing Alice on an improvised blanket you carried in your backpack.
"Alright, ready," you whispered with a smile as you finished settling her, gently brushing her soft brown hair. Her little hands moved restlessly, and with a loving gesture, you held her face to look at her. "Are you hungry? Let’s get your bottle ready," you said in a soft tone.
Immersed in that small, private world you had created with Alice, you didn’t pay attention to what was happening just a few meters away. You didn’t bother to look when the shouting grew louder, nor when the sound of a fight began to echo through the camp. You already knew, almost without having to see it, that Rick and Daryl were clashing. Daryl had been beside himself since finding out what happened to Merle, furious that they had left him behind in the city, handcuffed to a pipe on that rooftop. What he wasn’t sharing was the reason: deep down, you believed Merle deserved it. After all, he was a dangerous idiot, and you could still feel the faint sting on your cheek, the ghost of the slap he’d given you before they left him behind.
Rick, as always, had given in to Lori’s insistence, who had practically demanded that he promise Daryl they would go back to Atlanta to search for Merle. It was a near-suicidal mission, and most of the group knew it. But, as expected, some reluctantly offered their help, knowing that refusing wouldn’t change anything. Glenn was one of them, and that stirred a pang of frustration and worry in you. You knew he couldn’t say no, that his nature made him too noble to refuse Rick, even if it meant putting his life in danger.
You walked over to Glenn, who had his back to you, focused on packing a few things into his bag: a water bottle, a flashlight, basic but essential items for such a risky mission. You watched in silence for a moment, feeling the weight of worry pressing on your chest. You knew that, even though he didn’t want to, Glenn always ended up volunteering in situations like this. He couldn’t help it; his nobility and sense of responsibility pushed him to put himself in danger time and time again.
“You couldn’t say no,” you finally said, breaking the silence as you stepped closer to him.
Glenn turned to look at you, with an expression that confirmed what you already knew: he was exhausted, not just physically, but emotionally. The burden of always being the one who helps, the one who sacrifices, was starting to weigh on him. His eyes, though filled with determination, showed a shadow of defeat, as if deep down, he knew what you feared.
You sighed, and almost without realizing it, you murmured to yourself, "My sweet boy can’t say no."
You instantly scolded yourself for what you had said. Not because you didn’t feel it, but because you didn’t want those emotions to get in the way at that moment. There was too much at stake. But despite your best efforts, the affection you felt for Glenn was evident in every word you spoke.
"You know you don’t have to do this," you said louder, stepping closer to him and placing a gentle hand on his arm. "Rick can find another way, you don’t have to put yourself in danger every time someone asks you to."
Glenn gave a small smile, a mix of resignation and sadness. "I’d like to stay, believe me," he said, his voice soft but hesitant. "But I already promised Rick I would go." His attempt to justify his decision only heightened the frustration you felt. Seeing the frown on your face and the anger in your expression, he tried to sound more convincing, though you knew even he doubted his own words.
"Don’t worry," he continued, softening his tone and meeting your gaze. "I’ll be fine. We’ve done this before, remember? It won’t be any different."
"I’ll come back," Glenn insisted, with a firmness meant to reassure you. His eyes locked onto yours, as if he wanted his words to sink into every last one of your doubts. "I’ll be okay, I promise. I won’t keep doing these things if I know they make you feel like this."
"Glenn Rhee, don’t play with me," you responded in a softer tone, though still carrying a hint of disbelief. What he said comforted you, though a part of you remained skeptical. You hadn’t noticed how close you were now. Barely a foot of space separated your bodies, the tension palpable in the air, vibrating between the two of you.
"I never would," Glenn murmured, his voice low and sincere, filled with an unspoken promise. The silence that followed was intense, charged with something you couldn’t quite describe, a mix of worry and something deeper you didn’t dare name. The world around you seemed to shrink to that small shared space, until Rick’s voice broke the bubble that had formed.
"Glenn!" Rick’s shout snapped him out of the trance. Glenn pulled away, a bit reluctantly, letting out one last sigh before turning back to you.
"Take care," he said quickly, throwing you one last affectionate look before heading toward Rick and the rest of the group waiting for him.
You watched him walk away, feeling a strange emptiness in your chest. You couldn’t help but worry, but you forced yourself to trust his words. You sighed again and looked around, searching for Alice, who was in Amy’s arms. The blonde was gently rocking her while the baby played with her hair, smiling innocently.
“Y/N!” Jacqui’s voice called you from a distance as she and the other women headed toward the quarry. “We’re going to wash some clothes, do you want to join us?”
“Sure, give me a moment, I’ll catch up,” you replied with a smile, feeling grateful for the distraction. Gently, you took Alice from Amy’s arms, making sure she was comfortable in her carrier before stepping into your tent. You quickly searched for your dirty clothes and Alice’s. Then, after a brief moment of reflection, you decided you could also take a couple of Glenn’s items. You didn’t think he would mind, and after all, the poor guy already smelled.
You sat on a dry rock next to the water source, beginning to separate the clothes you would wash first. You were so focused on scrubbing the dirty garments that you barely paid attention to the conversation forming among the other women. The effort felt exhausting; you weren’t used to handwashing, and household chores had never been your strong suit, considering the long hours you used to spend at work. An internal laugh made you think, I’m definitely not wife material.
“I’m seriously starting to doubt that this is fun,” Andrea commented, holding a basket of clothes next to Jacqui, her eyes filled with frustration.
“Why do we have to do the maid’s work?” Jacqui complained, indignantly.
“It’s not that hard to understand,” you replied without looking up, your hands submerging another garment in the soapy bucket of water. “The men are so stupid they can’t even take care of themselves.”
Andrea’s dry laugh and Jacqui’s nod confirmed that you weren’t the only one sharing that sentiment.
“Didn’t you hear? The world has ended,” Amy chimed in with a touch of sarcasm, her expression ironic as she shook out a wet garment.
Before you could respond, you felt Carol’s gaze on you, her soft voice breaking your concentration. “Are you okay?” she asked, noticing the frown you had been wearing without realizing it. Her tone was warm, filled with that maternal concern she usually showed everyone.
You shook your head lightly and wiped your forehead, which was starting to glisten with a layer of sweat under the relentless sun. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied with a smile that tried to seem casual. “Just battling this stain,” you added with a light laugh, rubbing your hands on your waist while glancing quickly at Alice, who was still playing peacefully on the blanket.
Amy, who hadn’t stopped watching you, let out a comment laden with complicity, glancing sideways at her sister before smiling. “He’ll be fine, he’ll come back,” she said in a tone meant to be reassuring but that held a spark of mischief. It took you a moment to process what she was talking about until you realized she was referring to Glenn. Just thinking of him made the heat of the sun feel trivial compared to the blush that started creeping up your cheeks.
“I’m not worried,” you blurted out without thinking too much, even though you knew it was a blatant lie. You weren’t sure why you denied it so firmly, but the idea of everyone noticing how much you cared about Glenn made you feel vulnerable, as if you were somehow exposing a part of yourself that you had kept locked away.
“Sure, sure,” Jacqui replied, her tone clearly indicating that she didn’t believe you at all. “But I saw you arguing with him before he decided to head back to the city. You looked more than just concerned.”
“We were just talking,” you insisted, scrubbing one of Glenn’s shirts between your hands harder than necessary, as if that could erase both the conversation and the feelings you were trying to hide.
“You talk too closely to be just friends,” Carol teased, a mischievous smile forming on her face.
“Wow, I didn’t expect that comment from you,” you shot back with a smile, trying to divert the topic. Then, in a playful gesture, you splashed a bit of water at her. “We’re just friends, nothing more,” you added, though the word “friends” tasted bitter in your mouth. The relationship between you and Glenn had become trapped in that label, and it was starting to smell like something unresolved, something neither of you was ready to confront.
“I miss my washing machine,” Carol sighed, exhausted, letting a wet shirt drop onto the pile of clothes.
“I miss my Mercedes and the GPS navigation,” Andrea commented as she meticulously brushed the clothes spread over her lap. Her tone was light, but the gleam in her eyes showed a palpable nostalgia.
“And I miss my double-filter coffee maker,” Jacqui added with a smile, “with the built-in grinder, of course.”
“My computer… and text messages,” Amy interjected, frowning as she helplessly regarded the garment she had been scrubbing for what felt like an eternity.
“I miss my air conditioning and a decent bed,” you sighed emphatically. You weren’t lying; your back was a battlefield of cramps, and the relentless heat made every day feel longer than the last. It was incredible how the basics had become luxuries.
The conversation took an unexpected turn when Andrea, without warning, blurted out, “I miss my vibrator.”
The silence that followed was brief but palpable, before everyone exchanged surprised glances and then burst into laughter.
“So do I,” Carol added casually, which unleashed even more laughter, this time louder and more liberating. It was a moment of respite amidst the storm, a small flicker of humanity in a world that tried to steal it from you every day.
The atmosphere turned dense in an instant when Ed, with his cigarette hanging from his lips, approached the group. The environment, which had just moments ago been filled with laughter, was now heavy with palpable discomfort. Quick glances were exchanged among the women; the tension was evident.
“What’s so funny?” he asked in his brusque tone, his gaze heavy with disdain as he exhaled a cloud of smoke. Carol flinched slightly, and the discomfort on her face was impossible to ignore.
“We were just sharing war stories, Ed,” Andrea joked, trying to dissipate the tension. Though her words had a light tone, it was easy to see how tense she was. Carol, for her part, seemed increasingly uncomfortable, her posture shrinking with each passing second.
“Is there a problem, Ed?” Andrea’s patience was starting to wear thin, her tone sharper, almost defiant.
“It’s none of your business,” Ed replied with disdain, pulling the cigarette from his mouth and looking at her coldly. “You should focus on your work. This isn’t a comedy club.”
The coldness of his words ignited a spark within you, and before you could stop yourself, you retorted, “You’d better focus on shutting your mouth or I’ll kick your fat ass.” Your words came out with more venom than you intended, but you didn’t regret it. You held your gaze steady on him, challenging him to say more.
Seizing your intervention, Andrea stood up and walked toward Ed with a wet piece of clothing in her hand. “Listen, if you don’t like how we wash the clothes, then go wash them yourself.” She thrust the garment toward him with evident disdain, but Ed, instead of taking it, roughly tossed it aside.
“It’s not my job,” he replied, unfazed, taking another drag of his cigarette as if nothing had happened.
“Andrea, don’t do it,” Amy tried to intervene, her voice filled with concern.
“What is your job, Ed?” Andrea shot back, her patience exhausted. “Sitting on your ass and smoking cigarettes?”
Ed’s face twisted into a sneer of contempt. “I don’t have to listen to a stuck-up, arrogant bitch,” he responded aggressively. Then, his gaze turned toward Carol, who remained motionless, fear reflected in her eyes. “You, come with me,” he ordered in a rude tone, raising his voice. Carol hesitated, but fear paralyzed her.
You couldn’t just stand by. You stepped closer to her, gently taking her wrist in an attempt to stop her. “You don’t have to go anywhere, Carol.”
“Leave her alone, Ed,” Andrea interjected, placing herself between them.
Ed ignored the challenge. “That’s none of your business. Come with me!” His voice rose even further, and the tension in the air became almost unbearable.
Carol looked at you, her face pale and her eyes filled with unshed tears. “Please, Y/N, it doesn’t matter,” she whispered, her voice so fragile that you felt your heart break a little. You understood her fear. It was a cycle she couldn’t escape from alone.
Ed turned to Andrea, his face filled with fury. “Don’t think I won’t hit you too, just because you’re a college bitch.”
Andrea looked at him, offended, but before she could respond, Jacqui intervened, crossing her arms firmly. “Are you going to bruise your wife again, Ed?” Her voice resonated with authority. “We saw it. We know what you do.”
That was enough to unleash chaos. In a matter of seconds, everything turned into a struggle. Ed, in his frustration, slapped Carol when they tried to stop him. It all happened so quickly that you could barely react, but before things escalated further, Shane appeared out of nowhere. He grabbed Ed by the shirt, lifting him with a strength that seemed almost superhuman, and threw him to the ground.
“If you ever touch your wife, your daughter, or anyone in this camp again, I won’t hold back, you hear me?” Shane’s voice was a palpable threat as his fist collided repeatedly with Ed’s face. Blood and blows filled the air, and Ed’s body lay on the ground, bloodied and defeated.
The crowd fell silent, except for Carol’s sobs. Shane stood up, breathing heavily, and shot one last warning glance at Ed.
After all the commotion, you returned to the camp with heavy steps. The air felt denser than usual, but you tried to shake off the bad taste of what had happened. As you hung the wet clothes on the line, you made sure the wind wouldn’t carry them away.
When you finished, you headed to your tent, relieved to escape the lingering tension in the camp. You sighed as you picked up Alice in your arms. “Alright, little one, you’re going to have to learn to walk soon. You’re getting heavier every day,” you joked, stretching your sore back from the day’s work.
Alice, with her little bright eyes filled with determination, tried to stand up. She leaned against your legs, her tiny hands gripping your pants, but after a wobble, she ended up sitting back down on the ground. You let out a soft laugh at the sight of her; her surprised expression was adorable.
“It’s okay, sweetie, we’ll try again,” you said gently, leaning down to help her up once more. You took her small hands and patiently guided her, holding her steady as she attempted to straighten up on her wobbly feet. Her little eyes sparkled with concentration, her lips pursed in an expression that, despite her young age, conveyed a mix of frustration and determination.
“That’s it, come on... slowly,” you murmured as she, with your support, managed to stand for a few seconds. You felt her strength, small but growing, as she tried to take a step. Every advancement, no matter how minor, filled you with pride. But on her second step, her legs buckled again, and she fell gently onto her bottom, this time letting out a light giggle that was contagious.
–––––––––––––––––––––
The cold night air seeped between your bare arms, prickling your skin as you stared restlessly at the embers of the fire. The wind played with your hair, a dark strand tickling your cheek before you brushed it away with a distracted gesture. Your leg wouldn’t stop bouncing, reflecting the agitation you felt deep within. Glenn and the others had not returned yet, and the weight of uncertainty was consuming you.
You tried to calm yourself, but negative thoughts relentlessly assailed your mind, showing you a myriad of scenarios in which things could go wrong. Each image was worse than the last, each one a reminder of how fragile the lives of those you loved had become. You hugged yourself, trying to protect not only from the cold but from the storm of emotions attacking you from within. Alice wasn’t with you; she had fallen asleep much earlier than usual, and Dale, in a kind gesture, had allowed you to lay her down in the RV for her safety, so you could get close if anything happened.
You let the conversations around the fire wash over you, although you didn’t participate much. You had never been one to talk a lot, and even less so now. You preferred to listen, to observe. It was something you did better than speaking: reading between the lines, understanding without needing to say too much.
“Where are you going?” you heard Andrea ask, her tone casual but filled with curiosity. Amy, her sister, had quietly gotten up.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” the young blonde replied softly, with a shy smile. “Gosh, a girl tries to be discreet…” she chided her sister with a hint of embarrassment as she made her way toward the RV.
Not long passed before a blood-curdling scream shattered the tranquility of the camp. The conversation halted abruptly, and everyone turned toward the source of the sound. What you saw paralyzed your heart: a walker had caught Amy and was sinking its teeth into her arm, eliciting screams of pain that seemed to echo throughout the camp. Chaos erupted like a storm. More walkers emerged from the shadows, moving slowly but with an insatiable hunger. Panic spread among everyone. Mothers instinctively shielded their children, while the others hurried to grab any weapon they had on hand to defend themselves.
Shane, with the skill of a soldier, began to shoot, taking down one walker after another that approached dangerously. Your heart raced wildly. You cursed yourself for leaving your weapon inside the tent. As you tried to back away to safety, you tripped over a rock and fell backward. The gravel scraped your skin, but you had no time to worry about the pain. One of the walkers lunged at you, and in a desperate move, you grabbed a wooden stick and drove it into its head, watching as the lifeless body fell beside you.
You breathed heavily as you got back up, the only thought in your mind being Alice. You had to reach her; you had to make sure she was safe. You fought your way through the chaos, taking down two walkers that were too close to the vehicle’s door. The dark blood of one splattered your neck, and the disgust almost made you vomit, but there was no time for that. You stopped abruptly when your eyes met a horrifying scene: another walker had reached Amy and was viciously biting her neck. Blood gushed out, splattering the ground and clothes, as Amy fell to the ground.
Andrea screamed heartbreakingly, unable to process what was happening as she held the bleeding body of her sister. The sound of Alice’s cries grew louder, increasingly desperate, and your ears began to buzz. It felt like everything slowed down, each second weighing like an eternity. Your instinct screamed at you to run to your baby, to protect her at any cost, but the horror of what you were witnessing kept you anchored in place, as if your body couldn’t move.
A scream jolted you from your reverie. "Watch out!" The warning came just in time. As you turned, a walker lunged at you, its empty eyes and decaying flesh hanging from its face. Instinct took over; you gripped the wooden stick with both hands, even as splinters dug painfully into your skin. You didn’t think, you just acted. The blow was brutal, striking directly at the walker’s head. You felt the resistance of the rotting flesh give way as the wood pierced through the skull. The body collapsed at your feet, and for a moment, everything seemed to freeze.
Without wasting any more time, you ran toward the RV. The interior was dark, but you didn’t stop. You knew exactly where you had to go. You walked quickly to the small room at the back, your heart pounding so hard it felt like it would explode in your chest. With trembling hands, you pushed aside the curtain, revealing Alice. Her face was red, drenched in tears, and her arms reached out to you as soon as she saw you.
You scooped her up in your arms with a tenderness that contradicted the chaos outside. Your body shook, adrenaline and fear battling for control, but you sank to the floor, leaning your back against the wall, trying to find a breath amid the panic. Alice continued to cry, her small body shaking with sobs, and everything in you wanted to calm her, to protect her from this terrifying world that had become more dangerous with every passing second.
“Shh… I’m here, sweetheart, mommy’s here,” you whispered as you cradled her against your chest. The words slipped from your lips, automatic, a desperate attempt to soothe her, to soothe yourself. “Everything will be alright, baby. Everything will be alright.” But the sounds of screams and gunfire outside made it hard to believe. You knew the words were empty in that moment, but you repeated them, hoping they could offer some comfort, if not for her, at least for you.
The cries of Andrea, the thunder of Shane’s gunfire, and the growls of walkers continued to echo, but in that small corner of the RV, you tried to create a bubble of calm for Alice. You pressed her small body against yours, the warmth of her soft skin offering you a small ray of hope amid the despair. You couldn’t lose control, not when she needed you so much.
Tears began to fall uncontrollably, hot and heavy, as fear consumed you completely. Each sob was a reflection of the desperation you were trying to hold at bay, but you couldn’t anymore. Everything was crumbling around you. You didn’t know to whom you were praying, whether to some god that could still hear you or simply to hope itself, but you wanted the horror to end. You were so scared, so exhausted, that the simple act of breathing felt like an impossible task.
Gradually, the sounds from outside began to fade, the noise of the struggle transforming into the crunch of footsteps on the ground. Footsteps you didn’t recognize. Your heart raced again, and your mind imagined the worst: maybe everyone was dead, and you were the only survivor, doomed to face the world alone with Alice in your arms.
Your body tensed as you heard someone approaching the RV. The small room, which just minutes before had been a refuge, now felt like a death trap. You desperately searched for something to defend yourself with, anything that could help you protect Alice. But there was nothing. You were helpless, alone, and fear surged over you once more.
Suddenly, a figure appeared in the doorway, and for a moment, your soul seemed to leave your body. But then you saw clearly: it was Glenn. It was him, and his gaze reflected both relief and concern.
“Are you okay? Were you bitten?” His voice was filled with urgency as he knelt in front of you, his hands searching for your face, touching it gently. His thumb wiped away a tear rolling down your cheek, his gesture so full of tenderness that it broke the last barrier you had built to keep yourself strong.
“Please respond… talk to me,” he insisted, his voice nearly breaking. His eyes searched yours desperately, trying to ensure that you were truly alright.
You couldn’t speak. The words lodged in your throat, choked by fear and relief. All you could do was nod weakly before collapsing into his arms. You surrendered to his embrace like a frightened child, your body shaking uncontrollably as you sobbed against his chest. Glenn held you tightly, as if he were the only thing keeping you connected to reality amid the nightmare.
"I'm here. You're safe," he whispered softly as he held you tighter, his arms wrapping around your body with a care that almost made you crumble further. His warmth, his presence, provided you with a small anchor in the chaos. Though the world remained a terrifying place, in that moment, in Glenn's arms, you found a glimmer of safety.
As Alice, in your arms, slowly calmed down, her breathing syncing with yours, you realized that, at least for now, you had survived.
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