#Maybe its bc hes so ... Unbothered? I feel not judged. I feel like he can see me and not judge and thats sadly shocking for me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cinnamonest · 3 years

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I’m pushing out another one of my long-since-drafted things to the queue bc I’m trying to start keeping the queue active 24/7 and fill more asks but have this in the meantime

//dark shit, like the blood gore violence kind of yandere not the hot kind, brief animal death, gruesome slow npc death, gore, violence, blood, decaying/putrefaction mention

I'm really bad at judging what's mild versus severe when it comes to gore/blood bc I tend to underestimate, I think this is kinda severe? Let me know which it is actually pls so I have a better idea for the future ---------------------------------------- I mentioned a while back in the corpse disposal post and murder methods post that Razor can be... Brutal to say the least, but to expand more on the concept I feel like there's a big potential for a sort of gap moe with him, a duality that seems to contradict itself. Because in many ways he's a sweetheart, always trying to find things to make you happy, often smiling with those wide, excited eyes, physically affectionate with nuzzles and the like. But the other side of that, he's not actually aware of how... desensitized he is. You notice it early on and it catches you off guard a bit the first time it happens. Some poor little animal you two see struggling, like a bird stuck in a tree, and you urge him to go get it and he nods and says ok. Grabs it, and just as you're about to thank him and let it go you hear its little bones snap under the crush of his grip with a final pained chirp. There, he got it, see? Now you two can eat it together. That was why you wanted him to grab it right? To kill it? Why else? He looks down and realizes oh, it's still twitching, so he reached a hand up and twists its neck. There, now it's dead, he says with a beaming smile. But it falls and he tilts his head when he sees the shocked look on your face. What's wrong? Why are you so upset? You soon learn a lot of the animals don't... die immediately. The little things the wolves drag back are still kicking and struggling, still making noises as they tear into them to devour. It makes you sick to your stomach when you witness it, tears come to your eyes. He knows you don't like it and warns you, but... he doesn't understand why? Why does it upset you like that? He doesn't get it. It's a gnawing awareness in the back of your mind. You start to pick up on his... lack of reactions to certain things. You were once in the church getting healing for a minor wound of his when another group of adventurers came rushing through the doors, desperately begging for help for their friend they were carrying... some guy seriously injured, gored by a boar. The sight is burned in your mind forever, the organs spilling out of his split gut, the shivering and wide, bloodshot eyes, the blood bubbling out of his mouth with choked horrific groans and the way his body convulsed involuntarily. The most horrid thing you'd ever seen. And you were pretty certain it was that way for everyone. Everyone in the church was gasping, some people were retching and trying to hold back sickness, people ran out of the room as they were unable to handle the scene, tears were in everyone's eyes, and as the man wailed in agony from them setting his dislocated bones, you watched the bystanders cringe and wince. Every person in the vicinity was visibly horrified.... except for one. Razor's face was neutral. Curious. He leaned in closer to get a better look, eyebrows raised. He doesn't flinch at the sight of organs spilling onto the ground and the man starting to convulse and foam at the mouth as his eyes roll back into his head. And then, after a moment, he asks if you're ready to leave, says he feels better now and that man is really loud, he doesn't like it. His voice doesn't even have the slightest hint of a wavering or discomfort. When you come across a man in the woods caught in a bear trap, you can barely stand to look at it. Just hearing the cries for help had you shivering, and the sight of the pooling blood and utter agony on the man's face had you gasping, hand over your mouth as you tried to look away. ...Razor didn't seem to mind, though. He just undoes the trap and, without giving the man any warning, yanks it apart, pulling the spikes from his legs. As he does, blood shoots out and splatters on his face. He doesn't flinch, nor when the man screams. He does finally seem to react to the pained groans the man makes. But... It's not like your reactions. He's not flinching and grimacing, drawing in sharp breaths and tensing up, eyes watering in pity and shock like you. Instead, his eyes narrow and he puts his hands over his ears as you stoop down to help the poor man. His eyebrows furrow. He almost looks... Annoyed. He draws his foot back as if he's about to kick him, but freezes with realization when he looks at you, as if he forgot you were standing there, and puts his foot back down. You're certain he wasn't actually going to do that, of course. You're not sure why he did that, but... He wouldn't do something like that, even in a moment of dissociation from his human awareness. He does volunteer to be the one to go get help, though, getting away fast, but for some reason you sense it was more out of irritation at the noise rather than horror at the whole thing. Perhaps the worst was the decomposing body, that day you took a walk in the woods together. He smelled it first, nose wrinkling up in disgust at the putrid smell. But it was strong enough that you smelled it soon after. He says having dead animals this close to the residence of the pack is not good, they all hate the smell, so he can try to move the carcass of whatever animal it is... but it's not an animal, it turns out, once you finally find the source, collapsed at the bottom of a cliff from where they most likely fell to their death. Well, it's kind of a stretch to say it still resembles a human either, but you can tell from the general shape. It's more just like a glob, putrefied and rotting flesh falling off the bones. It shocks you so much you fall backwards, but he just moves closer. Ugh, too far rotted to move, he can't do anything about it, he realizes as he gives the decaying mass a kick and watches the blackened flesh slide off the bones. Oh well. ...In your shock, it takes you a moment to realize how... unbothered he seems. Mildly annoyed by the smell, but his expression is neutral as he looks at one of the most horrifying sights you've ever seen, he just yawns as he walks away from it and says you two should get away from the smell, it makes his head hurt.

The events all linger in the back of your head. A growing sense of wrongness, a dark, cold dread that settles in your stomach as the occurrences slowly grow in number, one after the other, each time you notice the complete lack of any sign of disturbance on his face, in his voice or body language. You ask him once, one time when you get the courage to ask such a... potentially offensive question. Don't you... feel anything when you see things dying? When they're in pain? He nods. He gets what you mean. The feeling when you watch something die. Hungry, right? Oh, no? Maybe you mean the irritation, a kind of angry feeling, what's the word... impatient...? Because the thing is taking too long to die and he wants it to go ahead and die already. Or maybe you mean like when that man was injured? When something is dying but it's not something you wanna eat? Yeah, he has a feeling then too. Um... kind of like anger... you taught him the word once... annoyed? They make so much noise, and he doesn't like loud things. When that man came into the church... he didn't like how loud it was. Why didn't they just kill him, since he was making so much noise...? He doesn't get it. When things annoy him, he kills them, like loud birds and biting bugs. He kinda had an urge to just... reach out and make the man stop screaming, just twist his neck like he does small animals when they make too much noise. But he's smart, he says, he knows the other people might get mad. Yes, he uses the word "might," not "would," as if it was a mere possibility. So it doesn't really come as a surprise when the same attitude applies to the people at his own mercy, the people that get too close to you and end up dragged out to the woods. It's that same knowing dread in your gut, and while it horrifies you as much as it always has, you wouldn't have expected anything else. Maybe some people would feel bad about what they're doing, they would want to go ahead and get it over with, they couldn't take the begging and agony the other party is in... but not only is he totally unbothered, but if he kills him now, he says, the blood will go all over the ground, and that's bad, his lupical like eating the blood in things. So he just snaps the man's bones, that way he won't run away. It's hard to describe the excruciated noises that come out of the other's throat when he does. It's unlike any noise you've ever heard a human make, that kind of pain. The sweat that pours from the other's skin from the agony, the way his mouth hangs open even when he can't scream anymore, the trembling and muffled begging as he moves to the next limb. You tremble and cry. You shiver uncontrollably, you whimper for him to stop. Your eyes widen when he grabs each limb and you close your eyes and sob and grimace and cringe with the snapping sound. Razor, on the other hand, stays just as neutral as before. Face blank and empty, as if performing any other mundane task. He doesn't flinch at the snapping. His expression is unchanging at the sound of screams and the groans as he drags the still-living figure behind him by his shattered ankle all the way back home. When he finally goes to look back at you, he tilts his head at the look on your face. Why do you still look upset? There's no blood yet... isn't it blood that makes you upset? Maybe not? Maybe it's the sound that bothers you? Yeah, you flinch whenever the man groans in pain, so it must be the sounds of the dying things that you don't like, it annoys him too really. Ok, that can be fixed... sound comes from the throat right? Well, he left his claymore a ways away so, it'll just take a second, the guy is thrashing a bit but eventually he holds him still enough to get his teeth latched around his throat and just... bites down. The sound is a squelching, crunching sound, one that you'll never forget, it makes every hair on your body stand on end and your skin crawl. He pulls back with the mass of bleeding flesh and tracheal tissue in his jaws and spits it out on the ground. There, see...? You can see the blood on his teeth reflecting the light as he smiles. He's not making noises anymore, so... why do you still have that look on your face? Is it because the body on the ground is all... spasming and convulsing like that? Well, uh... that'll stop soon, probably. At least it's nice and quiet now. He gets it, really, he doesn't like loud noises either.

#tw: violence #.rz #q

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moonlightflower21 · 4 years

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To get your mind off this stuff, how about Raph and his little boy (bc I rarely see him having a boy :( ) and his boy just inhutes himself but bc he's a mini Raphael he plays it off as nothing and then Raph finds out?

i'm assuming you mean raph's boy hurt himself because that's what's i'm going to do XD also, i had to name the children so it wouldn't be confusing to read. but you can pick and choose the names as you wish :)

"What's goin' on wit' ya?" Raph smirked at his son who softly groaned as he shifted himself on the couch. "Nothin pops, just tired" Zane rubbed his eyes, shifting the blanket further up his body. But it wasn't believable for Raph, after that training session with his cousin Zane seemed to be stuck on the couch immovable. Which was a weird thing, considering he had the energy of his uncle Mikey times 100.

"You okay, lil dude?" Mikey raised his eye ridges at the small boy who seemed to be in pain before looking at his brother. "Yeah, yeah. Fine" but he just brushed him off easily, trying to act unbothered but something was up with him. Raph knew when something was wrong and as if reading his thoughts, his older brother came into the living room with his twins and an angry/disappointed expression on his face.

"What's goin' on?" Raph raised an eyebrow at his nephew and niece who stared at the floor with guilt pratically radiating off of them. "Well Hana, Kameko, tell Raph what you told me" Leo sternly asked his twins who bit their lips nervously as they fidgeted. Zane glared at his cousins, feverishly shaking his head no rapidly behind his father's back. But there was no escaping the truth with the turtle brothers.

"Um...we-we told dad that... what would he do if someone cut themselves on a knife b-badly..." Hana spoke meekly, her back pressed against her father's legs in shame and nervousness. And the smirk Raphael held dropped in an instant, his amber eyes laying on his son once more.

"Guys! Why'd you do that?" Zane complained angrily, glaring at the two twins who couldn't meet his eyes. "Dad, I'm fine it's nothing" Zane tried to chuckle, but let out a series of coughs when he squeezed his stomach too hard.

"Pull your top up" Raph spoke quietly but firmly, crossing his wonderfully built arms over his chest. "B-but-" "Zane..." "But Hana is here!" "Now" Raphael ordered sharply, in a clear tone that he wasn't to be messed with in this moment. With a heavy sigh, he lifted the top over his body and Raphael refrained from saying anything when he saw the large cut on his son's body running from his chest to the lower belly. Leo could barely speak, his eyes narrowed in the cut his nephew had. Mikey let out a soft gasp at the blood and how angry the wound looked against his skin.

"S'nothing, dad. M'fine" Zane tried to chuckle making it lighter, yet the situation was anything but humorous. "How did you guys fix this?" Leo glanced down at his kids who toyed with their shirts. "We-we just kinda... stuck a bandage on it. I helped wrap it" Kameko spoke timidly, never seeing both his father and uncle so silent and angry.

"Donnie!" Raph yelled, seemingly breaking out of his momentarily trance and walking towards his kid. "Yo dad-" "Ya stay silent, Zane. Enough" Raph hissed, making his son sit gently on the sofa. He hushed, knowing full well how angry his own father was.

"What's wrong?" Donnie entered the living room, surprised to see his brothers staring at something with shock and anger. His own eyes widened when he caught sight of his nephew with a nasty wound on his stomach. "What happened??" Donnie exclaimed, peeling back the bandages as carefully as he could.

"Long story, can ya stitch him up?" Donnie looked at his his brothers eyes, knowing how nervous he was but played it off casually. He nodded, straightening his frame reaching his normal height.

"How-" strong arms held Zane's waist securely but gently in order to not touch the wound. "Dad! I can walk!" His cheeks went bright red, embarassed to be picked up by his father in front of his cousins but Raphael ignored it.

"Maybe if ya had listened to what I said, ya wouldn't be in this position" he spoke lowly, placing him down on the cot in Donnie's lab. His heart clenched when he saw his facial expression switch to pain as he shifted.

"Hold tight Z, I'm going to numb you" Donnie answered, cleaning around the cut. Raph sat down in the chair, on the other side. Zane's attitude and personality reminded him very much so of himself. Even if he was in staggering pain, he wouldn't show a sign of weakness to anyone. Because weakness meant failure. But that was in the past, before he met you and had his son. He vowed to protect you and his child with his life. But it was hard, considering his son would pull stunts like this and deem it acceptable to not tell anyone and allow the problem to disappear on its own. Was this how Leo felt?

"Okay, it's finished. Be sure to not apply any pressure or the stitches could very well come undone. You're going to be in pain, judging by the severity of the wound and the location of it" Donnie continued but Raph zoned out, waiting to talk to his son in private. "Hold on, I got to check something" and just like that, Donnie disappeared leaving Raph alone with his child.

"I know you're mad-" "Mad?? An understatement, Zane! What were ya thinkin'? I told ya not to touch the blade and whaddya do?? Touch them!" The lecture began, Raphael stood up and paced the floor like he always did when he was anxious and frustrated. All his son could do is sit and listen.

"But I'm fine-" "Are ya? Because those stitches and the bruisin' tell me otherwise! I know exactly how that must feel because I did the same thing when I was a kid, Zane. Don't try to kid me" he continued with his small rant, so scared over how he could have lost his child.

"And then ya go 'head and wrap this up like it couldn't have gotten infected and it couldn't have gotten much much worse-" "But it wasn't bad!-" "That's not the point! Not only have you disobeyed what I told us, but you hurt yourself and this isn't a minor injury either!" The tone of his increased and his glare only softened when he saw how small his son looked on that bed.

"Shit... what am I gonna tell your momma? She's already mad at me for even buying ya that thing. And now...." Raph sighed, pressing a hand to his temple already feeling a mild thumping there. He recalled how you didn't want any knives around the kids because they were reckless but Raph knew how it felt like to have so many restrictions and treated as though you were a baby. So the blade was in the room, but forbidden to be touched without any proper training. Zane looked to his lap, feeling so heavy with all the emotions. Trying to act all cool and badass wasn't worth the stress it came with. If he had listened to his father he wouldn't be sitting here with his stomach simultaneously on fire and in excruciating pain.

"But... you're okay. That's all that matters" Raph patted his son's shoulder comfortingly, running a hand through his locks. "M'sorry dad..." Zane whispered, feeling so defeated and Raph nodded, gently nudging his shoulder.

"S'fine, what's done is done. All that matters is ya, okay? If ya want ta hold the blades, ya need training. I'll train ya" Raphael kneeled to the ground, looking into his son's eyes with a half smile. "Really?" Raph let out a small chuckle when he saw the glimmer in his son's eyes.

"Really, really" he pecked his forehead, giving him a smile of his own. "But you're still grounded. And you have the honours of tellin' ya mom"

#tmnt x reader #tmnt x reader fanfic #tmnt 2014/16 #tmnt 2016 x reader #tmnt raph #tmnt raphael #tmnt dad!raph #tmnt raphael x reader angst/fluff

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wilhelmjfink · 5 years

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The Great Divide - Chapter 2

Summary: Daryl had told Riley a hundred times: people are not to be trusted and one day she’d run into the wrong person and learn pretty quickly that her confidence in strangers would get her into a lot of trouble. They both knew he was right. He was just trying to teach her before it was too late for her to learn.

Warnings: probably some swearing

A/N: so i’ve decided to post 2x a week bc i’m not sought after enough to have any sort of demand for the next chapter of this series LOL SO HERE’S CHAPTER TWO feat. really angry daryl (we can deny it all we want but we loooooooooove it)

Previous Chapter • Next Chapter

“Aaron!” Tara hissed. “There’s someone outside!”

The pair ducked under the small rectangular windows that laid ground level with the hotel, the quilted glass dusty and cracked with misuse, but useful enough for Tara to spot movement as she climbed the shelving along the basement storage room walls.

“Shit,” he whispered it more to himself than to Tara as three other strangers joined the unfamiliar man outside, emerging from the tree line. “There’s more.”

They held their breath, observing the group of strangers slowly approach the hotel before luckily seeming disinterested and moving on. The each exhaled the breath of anxiety neither one of them even noticed they were holding.

“I hope Riley’s hiding,” Tara muttered under her breath, almost absent-mindedly, so focused on the potential threat.

The air was still while they waited, silent and still, hoping that the visitors would just pass without incident. It was hard to hear them from a distance, but as they moved closer to the hotel, Tara could pick out a few words: ‘first and foremost’ and ‘finally’ and ‘divided’. They would eventually move on. Wordlessly, they exchanged nervous glances. If they could just remain quiet enough...

The sound of a car engine turning over immediately followed by deafening revving diverted both of their attentions back to the outside. It was loud, but they still couldn’t see it, and it only worried the more as the seconds ticked by and the sound refused to die out into the distance.

“Come on.” Aaron suddenly pulled Tara away from the window and they entered the dark stairwell, blindly climbing until they reached the top, peering carefully around the corner into the lobby, both relieved to see it still empty.

The large bay windows were of course boarded up, but were inconsistent enough to leave small slivers of light that allowed them to peer outside.

Their blue Chevy remained unbothered on the sidewalk, but they could see at the end of the stretch a herd of black vehicles that surrounded a big utility truck or van. There were at least ten people outside, leaning up against the black Dodge Chargers, all armed to the teeth.

“Holy hell,” Tara whispered. “Are they all wearing masks? Where do you think they came from?”

“I have no idea,” Aaron was just as shocked as she was; it was written on both of their faces. “Let’s go find Ri and we’ll just lay low until they leave.”

“What if they don’t leave?” Tara asked anxiously. The worst case scenarios had already played in her head, arriving the second that she’d realized somebody was outside. “What if they sweep the area? They’re gonna notice we cut the chain on the front doors eventually.”

“Don’t worry about that right now.” Aaron nodded pointedly towards the stairwell, trying to remain as calm and rational as he could for both of them. “Come on.”

Tara followed him after hesitantly turning away from the sight of the crew outside.

The men were raucous, laughing loudly and obnoxiously, seemingly unaware of the danger and unwanted attention the noise would attract. Tara wasn’t surprised, though — judging from their appearances they were not only well-off if not thriving, but they looked tough, and they looked mean. Each vehicle had the same symbol painted on its door or window — some foreign design that was unfamiliar to both Tara and Aaron. A different language, maybe. Or perhaps some sort of cult or twisted religion.

Aaron lead the way up the stairs blindly, trusting his gut and fumbling through the darkness before his foot kicked and caused him to stumble over an object that lay in his path. He caught himself on the wall adjacent to him and found then he was close enough to the emergency exit door so he pushed the metal open just enough to let a ray of sunlight leak in and light it up.

“Oh, my fuck,” Tara gasped louder than she’d intended to. “That’s Riley’s bag!”

Aaron wanted desperately to be able to argue with her. He couldn’t. It was Riley’s “Shit!”

“We have to go after her.” Tara was already turning back around toward the lobby, retrieving her rifle where it hung on her back in preparation to fight, like a soldier marching confidently into the front lines. Aaron could see the wild look in her eyes and he quickly darted after her.

“Hey, hey, hey! Wait!” He had a hold on her sleeve and Tara halted in her tracks but didn’t turn around. “We can’t just run out there, Tara — there could be even more of them. You saw them all -- their armor and their firepower! They could be seriously dangerous ...”

“They could have Riley!” She spat back, spinning on her heels to face him. “That’s her backpack. Why would she just ditch it?”

“Just relax, okay?” Aaron ran a hand through his hair, already breaking a sweat from the stress and the humidity of the day as the sun rose higher in the sky. He wanted to ask why they wouldn’t take it, but deep down, he felt it would just lead to more worry as they played out potential scenarios in their heads. “Just, hold on...”

“Aaron, come on. What’s there to think about? We’re gonna go find her.”

There was a faint sound of crickets off in the distance somewhere as the sun lowered and painted the town a deep orange. It let in an eerie glow into the room Aaron and Tara found themselves in. Amongst the upturned papers and belongings they’d managed to scatter all over the floors and beds were the discarded room keys they’d thrown after searching each floor thoroughly with not one sign of Riley.

“She’s not here, Aaron.” Tara’s panic was rising, her voice escalating with every word she spoke. She swore, double and triple and quadruple checking in her head: they’d looked in every single room on the top three floors. Two of them were locked, but there was no response from the other side of door, and when they’d noticed the dust on the lock mechanism, they’d decided it’d been untouched. And the only sign they’d found of Riley’s presence was a few of those abandoned hotel room keys — but that only increased their anxiety as opposed to giving them any reassurance nor did it get them any closer to their friend.

Aaron had been watching the group of strangers outside from the fifth story window of the suite they’d entered, eagerly waiting for them to leave or at least show any sign that they did in fact have Riley. They hadn’t done either, and his shoulders slumped in a combination of disappointment, but also some bitter relief, when they’d all piled back into their vehicles and prepared to leave.

“Well, they’re about to head out,” he informed Tara, trying desperately no to lose hope for himself and for her, though he couldn’t help but feel like his words had been much heavier than he’d intended them to be. “We can go search outside now — see if she was hiding out there and waiting for them to leave.”

“And if she’s not?”

Aaron glanced over his shoulder at Tara, slightly taken back by her tone of voice when she snapped those words at him. Though he knew deep down that she was probably right: something had happened to Riley. He could feel it in his gut; in his bones. She was smart and she was sly, and she would remain undetected if she wanted to. That only meant that she had gone out after somebody or something, and had yet to return. She could be lying injured somewhere or, if they were lucky, just lurking in the shadows patiently waiting for the intimidating group of strangers to leave the area.

He watched as the final vehicle drove out of sight. “Let’s go.”

Building to building, sometimes twice, they searched, with no hint nor sign of Riley. Any sign of entry they investigated. Any hint of activity or movement; no stone went unturned, no footprint unfollowed.

A corpse with similar armor lay dead on the edge of the treeline, shot in the head, stiff and dry as it’d laid there for some time. He had a small keychain on his belt with few oxidizing keys hanging from them. That was it. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

It was dark by the time the pair had decided to start their journey back to Alexandria, having exhausted all of their options and available resources in search of their friends. They’d come up empty handed, much to their disappointment, having thoroughly swept the area in its entirety for any sign of her at all. They were devastated. Hopeless, almost, but guilty, because why would they be so quick to give up?

The ring held five keys, each labeled accordingly on masking tape in black marker: pit, quarters, trains, hole, and slaves. It didn’t give them much insight, but only worried them more, the names on the keys painting a gruesome picture in both of their minds. It only dug the hole they’d both been sitting in deeper; pulling them lower into the fear.

It had to have been shortly before the sun was about to rise when they pulled back up to the entrance, their stomachs knotted with anxiety as the gate slid open in front if them.

The two didn’t even make it through the entrance before they spotted them: Rick leaning against the streetlight pole to their right and Daryl beside him, pacing in circles like an infuriated, caged animal.

At the sight, Aaron and Tara glanced at each other apprehensively before shutting the truck off and hopping out of their respective sides.

Daryl stormed up to them, visibly upset, and Rick trailed behind him with more confusion than anger on his face. His expression was almost hard to read, like it so often was, and neither one could distinguish exactly how he was feeling. But if they knew him well enough, hopefully he would be more level headed and rational than Daryl usually was, as he’d proven time and time again, and they hoped that would be the case again and he would be able to calm him down...

“The hell took ya so long?” He barked at them before he’d even made it up to the truck, and they watched his face drop the second he realized that they were missing someone.

But before he could lash out, Aaron interjected, trying to diffuse the situation before it spiraled out of control. “Riley took off.”

As Rick approached they could see his face clearer with the dome light shining from behind them. He looked confused and threw a fleeting glance at Daryl, who looked nothing short of outraged, and managed to speak up first while his friend still seemed to be trying to register what he was just told.

“What do you mean ‘took off’?”

“She took off?” Daryl suddenly roared, his voice growing dangerously loud for the quiet community in the middle of the night. Rick’s attempt to deter him did little to help. “Riley don’t just take off. Where is she?”

There was a fleeting second where he softened upon registering the marred expression on Tara’s face, but as the sadness usually did with him, it turned back into a fiery rage. He took a threatening step toward Aaron. “Hey! I’m talkin’ to ya!”

“She ditched her backpack,” Tara answered flatly for Aaron, dropping the bag at the archer’s feet. And he looked down at it for a moment, trying to configure a reason inside of his head as to why the fuck she might’ve done that, but he knew his girl. She wouldn’t leave her backpack behind without the intention of coming back to get it. She wouldn’t have just left without any sort of hint or anything where she was going. She wouldn’t just leave.

“Nah, that don’t make any sense,” Daryl shook his head in denial, refusing to believe she’d just abandoned them. “She wouldn’t jus’ leave.”

“Did you see anybody else?” Rick asked them as Aaron ran a hand through his hair, growing increasingly more distraught by the second. “Was anybody else around?”

“There were these guys,” Aaron answered. “Like, ten of them. Maybe more. But they didn’t notice us. They were far down the street, and — “

Before could finish his thought Daryl lunged forward, throwing himself at his friend as he simply tried to explain everything he knew and pinned him up against the brick wall of the home behind them. He was panting heavily as he stared the terrified man in his hands down, his eyes wild and Aaron briefly worried that Daryl might actually kill him.

“And ya just fuckin’ left her there?” Daryl yelled.

Aaron shook his head frantically. “No, Daryl, we — “

“I trusted you with ‘er!”

Aaron realized then that Daryl wasn’t angry, not at him nor at all, but he was hurt; he felt betrayed by his friends, but Aaron and Tara were confident that they’d done all they could.

“Daryl, you didn’t see those guys,” Tara stepped toward them and put a hand gently on his arm, hoping to simmer him down at least a little bit before he ended up doing some he’d regret. “They were mean. And they had a lot of firepower.”

“They coulda had Riley!”

"Hey guys, let’s all jus’ calm down.” This time it was Rick who stepped up. “They couldn’t have stayed out there forever, Daryl. I’m sure they looked for her -- ”

“Did ya even try to find her?” Daryl wouldn’t tear his eyes away from Aaron who, despite his fear, knew the archer well enough and still trusted him not to try and hurt him... or so he hoped.

“We tried, man — we looked everywhere. We came back for you guys... we need more numbers before we can just run after them. Those guys, they were... they were bad people. And if they do have her, I don’t think they’re going to hand her over nicely.”

With a sigh Daryl dropped him suddenly, feeling overwhelmed with guilt and sadness and fear and pressure and too many other fucking things. He looked to Rick for answers and, upon realizing his best friend and leader had nothing to offer, turned on his heels and stormed off.

“Alright then, les’ go.”

“Daryl, we — “

“Save it! There ain’t time to bullshit about it! If those guys are as bad as y’all say, then I ain’t gonna hang around here and wait for ‘em to drop her off on our doorstep. Let’s go.”

When he disappeared, the silence that followed was soon interrupted by a motorcycle engine and even though they’d known Daryl was one to play around, they didn’t expect him to react the way that he did.

Rick turned back to his friends wearily. “Are you guys okay?”

“Yeah, fine.” Aaron ribbed the spot on his collar bone that Daryl’s fists has dug into. “But he’s right. If those guys did take her, then we can’t afford to waste any time.”

Rick tried his best to keep up the voice of reason. “We need to regroup; think of a plan....”

But Tara started after Daryl instead, strutting backwards to holler at the two guys that stayed by the truck. “Let me know what Daryl thinks of that,” she shouted before turning back around toward the motorcycle that was pulling up. She waved him over. “I’m going with him. You guys can catch up later.”

:o gasp

i think i’m going to post a one shot tomorrow too.... maybe if i feel like u guys want it bad enough............ lmao

ask if you want to be added to my lil tag list :)

@crossbowking @jodiereedus22@apossiblegentleman@mtngirlforever @sourwolf-sterek32@winchester-angel @qrangr @cole-winchester @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @twdeadfanfic@crazyaboutnorman @deliciousassafrasssandwich@bunnymother93 @96ssi @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @ima-mther-fckn-starboy @thatsoragan@lonewolf471

#the walking dead #twd #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl x oc #daryl dixon imagine #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead daryl dixon

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