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itsgrimeytime · 9 months

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

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

Taglist: @loliakeoghan23 @belaballs

AVAILABLE ON AO3

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

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

TWS: kinda anti-Lori, misunderstandings, a marriage of convenience, and mentions of loneliness.

[[A/N: girllllll, not another Magnolia in May chapter!!! Whoops. And actually tagging bestie @imaginemyfavoritefics properly this time, bc I did use the idea of Daryl as the courier. Unrelated but this gif of him clenching his jaw... girl. Thanks for reading !! ]]

You'd taken to writing letters -the gentle swish of your quill was calming the storm of your mind. Originally, you had garnered a sort of cold from the walk in the rain and had to heal -now, you'd stayed holed up of your own accord.

'Nonsense, darling,' Headmistress had said, fluffing up your pillows, '-you must heal from a broken heart like any other wound.'

It was fewer letters and more of a sort of journal -only for your eyes to see but sometimes addressed to someone other than yourself. It started simply with one occasionally to Maggie to make her smile, or Beth to tell her things you'd learned so she wouldn't have to, or to remind Father to eat a meal when he'd been so focused on a patient that he'd neglect himself. But then, Mr. Grimes started appearing at the header.

You couldn't remember the first time it had happened, days rather blurred after that day -especially since you were treated shortly after. And rest was all you'd really gotten then, it made the passage of time blurry.

But it became something you were rather dependent on.

'Mr. Grimes,' you wrote in the first of its kind, quill rather fluid at this stage.

'I met your wife, Lori. She's a wonderful woman, kind and perfectly poised. I would, in a different life, maybe be friends with her -seems the type to be good company. Was it always her?

You've got something special, a family with beautiful children. It's every man's dream, is it not? You were my dream. I find it a bit hard to believe she would leave that dream behind. For what is more powerful than one's love for their child? I suppose there were other circumstances that I shall never be aware of. I would've liked to have known why. I understand it's a rather personal thing, but I should be urged to hear something of the full story. I might deserve it.

But I suppose you deserve a full family more. Carl and Judith do. I wouldn't fit in. I would love the best for them, despite not having known Carl, he seems a bright boy. Deserves much of the best in life, I'd garner all children do.

I often wonder if I am to have children. I suppose I could ask you for advice one day, if so. But there's something in me that speaks differently. Like that path with you is gone. Maybe I should run off to the city and write away, become focused on my education. Pay for my father's living, and house my sister's 'til they're wed.

I don't think I could, with good conscience, leave Alexandria. I'm far too fond of the people the town, its where I grew up. And I suppose, to keep my father's clinic running under the family name I may marry. I'm not too sure that I'd marry for love, per say. Can you begin the fall in love more than once? Is it possible? And furthermore, although it is something I wish for, I'm not sure that I would like to bring children into a loveless marriage.

This is getting far too detailed of my own troubles, and for that I apologize.

I truly wish your family well. Even if there's no room for me.

Yours Sincerely,

Y/N Greene'

It was a positive experience, mostly. The smearing on that letter particularly wasn't of cathartic tears. Not quite a release of the emotions dying so tightly within your soul, it was rather grief. Loss of a life that you'd never have. Despite it being the one you desperately wanted.

You sighed, stashing away the paper with the other ones -the second desk drawer to the right, under the math textbook that had been gathering dust even before you were born.

Sure, it messed your hands, but you found it was a small price to be paid for secrecy.

"Y/N, dearest," your Headmistress hummed -voice pounding up the stairs, "-get dressed and meet me at the door in 10, will you?"

"Yes, Headmistress," you echoed, off to your feet and only touching up ever-so-slightly by the mirror. And in your rush, maybe you had forgotten to shut the drawer -you couldn't know now. It stayed open, and the telling corner of dustless papers under a dusty book was certainly one to ponder over.

At least for someone, it was.

You wouldn't know what had occurred until a few weeks later, as you sorted out your joint closet with Maggie. Gathering bows and ribbons, and straightening dresses, was a wonderful way to pass time -since your newest book was seeming to be tucked away in the carriage. You truly could not find it anywhere-

And then, there was a knock at the door.

Now, normally, this was of no notice -either for Maggie (who had gone on frequent outings with Mr. Rhee since the ball) or Father (ranging anywhere from an old friend to an urgent patient). But this was one to put a pause in your mind.

Maggie was, in fact, out -you remembered the shimmer of the carriage as it pulled away, and Father was rushed off for an emergency. And even further, Headmistress and Beth had gone out to a sort of gathering -some sort of tea party, you'd assumed. (They'd invited you, but you'd truly not wished to hear the gossip. Especially not now.)

You stilled, you were alone here then.

Well, you considered -making your way down the steps, -could be a sort of delivery. Ms. Elisa did frequently speak with friends out of town -often through letters. And Father always had an extra copy of cases delivered to his home -so he could think properly on an issue.

Satisfied with that, you approached the door with newfound confidence -fear that had stubbornly stuck there was unfounded. You twisted a bit of fabric in your dress, just to do something with your hands before swinging open the door.

And, it was a familiar face. Not one you had a name to, but one you knew -the courier.

"Ms. Greene," he spoke, his voice gruff and tired, much less peppy than you'd seen him before, "-I assume?"

"Yes," you answered cautiously, "-I'm the eldest Ms. Greene, why? If you're looking for Maggie-"

"No," he answered, simply, long hair moving with the motion of his head, "-Mr. Grimes requested this be given to you, the eldest."

"I can't acce-" you started but fell shut as a letter was extended to you -two letters. One a familiar sort of coffee-tinged brown -paper old and weary, you could hardly believe the quill hadn't punctured right through really. And the other, neatly folded, a pristine sort of ivory, and dark ink that somehow didn't seem to smudge at all. On the side that was exposed to you was written: Ms. Y/N Greene, in handwriting you recognized.

The one that had scribbled across the invitation so long ago-

"Who are you?" you questioned -eagerly bringing the letters close to your chest, "-And how did you get my letter? Have you been in my home-"

"Ms. Greene," he spoke -composed and calm, unmoved by your pressing questions, "-they were presented to me to mail weeks ago."

You froze, something heavy dropping in your stomach, "They? How... How many letters were you given to post?"

"A stack, no more than 10," he responded, "-the youngest Ms. Greene, opened the door for me once to deliver an invitation. The same one I 'ave been for weeks- It ain't relevant, really. She knew where I came from, and requested I bring 'em to Mr. Grimes immediately."

You paused, "An invitation?"

"More like a summonin'," he clarified, rather poised but still somewhat a bit casual, "-it's always the same request for you, the eldest, to attend to the Grimes estate."

"What?"

He paused, "It's supposed to be brought to ya, upon retrieval but... I'd guess it hasn't."

"You've-" you exhaled -a deep uncertain exhale, "-Just how long have you been delivering these?"

"Lost count."

"And-" you stuttered, a bit overwhelmed, "-and the letters, my letters they-"

"I put 'em in his hand, myself," he spoke -an ordered sort of discipline heavy in his tone with a dose of familiar twang.

"Right," you swallowed -pushing down the nerves biting up your throat at such rampant pace, he was never to see those, "-and who are you exactly?"

"Grimes estate courier," he grumbled out, a some of bitterness gathered there.

"No, no," you quirked a brow at him, "-your name? I figured as much otherwise."

He answered, rather improperly -as if he was trained in some ways and ignorant in others just slightly, "-Daryl Dixon."

"Mr. Dixon," you echoed, a sort of curiosity in your tone, "-you said he received the full stack, did he not?"

He merely nodded.

"Well, why do I only have one, then?"

The man pondered it for a second, loosely eyeing the way you held the letters like he knew what they contained (maybe he did), "I suppose he ain't done replyin' to the others."

The rest of the interaction was fairly polite, mere questions about his work -to which he complained quite vividly about the extent of it, but never shred a wrong light on Mr. Grimes. You'd gathered they were well-acquainted, even perhaps friends from youth, but you couldn't exactly pinpoint it. He didn't say anything directly, and was rather quiet around details. Well, details pertaining to Mr. Grimes, you supposed.

You'd initially wanted to search for the invitations he spoke of, but something bigger was biting you.

Your hands were quick to rush to the drawer, pulling it open -to suddenly believe it was not real. To prove that all of this was a farce, that the letters were still safely kept. But, when you opened it, you could tell.

Even still, you pushed forward holding up the book, peering underneath. It was empty, extraordinarily empty.

"No, no, no-" you urged, heart sinking to the bottom of your stomach -heavy, "-it can't be..."

Private pieces of you, of your sadness, your longing- Sent to the married man of the header.

And just back as you pushed back in your chair, the brush of tears only a breath away -your eyes caught on the letter.

It was not yours.

Yours sat just beside it, you recognized it to be the first one -all sort of crumpled and agonizingly smudged. All conflicted feelings and harsh realities buzzing under your skin. You'd written it partially under the delirium of your illness, so it was rather brash but you'd never thought you'd need to worry about it. The only thing different was how it was presented.

You remember hastily shoving it away, between book covers, under table legs, hidden in the dirt of the garden, as you tried to find a good place to stash them. You'd always been so quick to put them away, to get out the feelings and move on-

Looking at it now, though, the worn paper was smoothed out (to the best it could be) and perfectly folded. Each corner matched to another and creases were indented lightly so as to not damage the written word. It was treated as precious. Something... Something he'd rather cared for.

Something told you then to get rid of it, to throw it onto the fire when no one was looking, to stash it away, to never read it no matter the cost because you were doing the right thing and should not be swayed-

But another part of you was dreadfully curious. And dreadfully grieving the loss of a man who still lived.

It was your mail, a letter addressed to you. Wouldn't it be rather rude to not read it? If you hadn't wished the first one to be mailed, you retorted, then no.

And yet, you found yourself picking up the note with the gentlest of graces. Carefully unfolding the thick paper, slowly, timidly, like the words would jump off the page. Like they could hurt you.

You supposed they could.

Once fully opened, you didn't directly focus on the words -instead, detailing the printed bits around the top edges. It looked as though this was an official sort of paper -the same kind an invitation may be extended to. As well as a family seal printed into the bottom right corner, it seemed a little formal for the occasion but you found it didn't bother you. Not really.

Taking a deep breath, you blinked your eyes -wishing to calm your heart, even just for a moment, and started reading.

'Ms. Greene,' it started, letters crisply written in a thin but precise sort of writing. Your finger naturally went to trace over them, dotting the i's and swirling the g's.

'I must first say that it's to my understanding that these letters are rather personal to you. You weren't the one who intended to mail them, I've come to know. I know that this then, by proxy, is a large invasion of your privacy.

And I can only hope you forgive me for such a thing. Because this is my sort of last resort to reach you. I'm sure you're familiar with the invitations that have flooded your door, and although, I understand the no response for what you know, I've become quite desperate.

To be completely clear, I was nearly on my horse to your home the morning these letters arrived. To explain everything as you deserve it to be explained.

I instead am here, writing letters. I cannot tell if that's any sort of better than my original plan was but it is the decision I chose.

In terms of Lori, the situation is rather complicated. Surely, at the young age we married, she was the plan. I'd honestly not given thought to the fact that she'd ever come back. I knew her reasons, and I fully doubted I'd ever see her again. And out of respect for you, I wish for the full story to be in person.

Despite all that, I truly wished she would. I know I did. If not only to see our children, to grace me with some sort of company.

I lived a rather lonely life before you Ms. Greene. Which may seem a bit arbitrary coming from a man with a staff, but it doesn't make it any less the truth. When she left, it was quite the scandal. I never spoke a word on it, too devastated to even imagine what to say. It meant much more reclusion, even from friends I knew from youth. And then, as I'm sure you're familiar, I decided to move back to Alexandria. Atlanta only harbored negative things, and I wished for someplace more pleasant. And it was, but still despite it all, the loneliness persisted.

So this family, this full family, you speak of, it's not what Lori and I would be. It wasn't what we were when we were married. I love my children, beyond belief, but I was still lonely. And I can't imagine a full family has a lonely father.

Frankly, Ms. Greene, I was lonely until that day in the marketplace.

And on the off chance you don't understand what I mean, I ask, from the depths of my heart, don't leave Alexandria.

Yours,

Richard Grimes'

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #its griming time #stuff n' thangs #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #ricky dicky doo dah grimes #twd #twd rick #rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #rick grimes oneshot #magnolia in may #narrative letters ??? drama

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grizzs-garden · 5 years

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Seeing as I totally failed, and asked you for someone you had already done... :)) I'd love to see you answer for both Clark and Gwen?

Of course! Get ready for a long post!

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Why I like them:

Clark -- liking Clark is of course complicated, cause he was kind of this problematic goofy footballer white boy in the beginning, which is admirable in the sense of comedic relief. But then he goes off the deep end (like most white boys in the show jfjskdkd). I just like his interactions with the guard from the beginning of the season for the most part.

Gwen -- to be completely honest I don't like Gwen too much. I think she's strong-willed, which is admirable, and she knows how to cheat the system to get what she wants (pretending to still date Clark in order to have her own room). She's got some smarts in how to get her way, which can be both a good and bad thing.

Why I don't like them:

Clark -- The first time I thought "huh maybe this dude is serious bad news" was when he beat Dewey in the wine cellar. I don't like how violent and power hungry he can be. The once blissful, likable idiot turned into an ignorant, violent asshole pretty quick.

Gwen -- I never really liked the whole "boy-crazy" thing, especially the FMK with someone else's boyfriend?? Anyway I think she's just got a lot of girl drama that I don't care for at all.

Favorite episode:

Clark -- Episode 5 "Putting on the Clothes" is my favorite for him not only because it has the famous raid scene but because it has the scene where he beats Dewey. As much as I hate him for it, that scene reveals a lot about Clark's character and foreshadows his power hungry, defy-the-rules-to-get-what-I-want attitude.

Gwen -- Episode 10 "How it Happens" because it has the scene where she talks with Grizz in his tent during the expedition. Although her motivations were not ideal, they actually both shared some much needed vulnerability with each other. She's not in the series much so it's hard to pick out a favorite episode for her, but I think that's the one.

Favorite season: last time I interpreted this as favorite scene because we only have one season, so I'll pick a scene they're both in! I've always really liked the scene where Clark and Gwen are walking Elle home from movie night and Clark tries to quote Princess Bride (and fails miserably). I've just always liked Clark's goofy "My name... is Undigo Montoya...." and Gwen's laughter with "that's not how it goes!" (even if Campbell has to ruin it be being possessive over Elle).

Favorite line:

Clark -- ok to be honest I don't remember much of what he's said but there's a scene that's giffed somewhere on here where he and Jason are arguing with Grizz about being in charge. He says something like, "We got ideas." To which Jason says, "We do?" And Clark corrects, "We could have ideas." And I've just thought that's one of his many stupid/funny quotes. I never remember anything serious he's said cause tbh its probably mostly problematic.

Gwen -- this is hard cause she doesn't really say much. I think I'm going to go with the line she says at the end of her scene with Grizz in his tent. It's something like, "Well, I'm still cold and lonely. Can I stay?" I think it just speaks volumes about acceptance and shows that Gwen is really just lonely and needs someone to count on and make her feel safe.

Favorite outfit:

Clark -- I dont know why but I think he especially looks like such a dork in that letterman's jacket. I mean yeah they all look kinda funny in them but he especially makes it look dorky. There's also a photo out there from the prom episode where he's got a blue clown wig on and it's quite the fashion statement.

Gwen -- I really like her prom outfit! It's a good color on her and the skirt has a nice floral print. I don't often like florals but she looks cute in it.

OTP: I don't really have an otp for either of them?? Generally because they were dating each other and kept their break up a secret.

Brotp:

Clark -- well obviously Jason. They're like tweedledee and tweedledum. They share half a brain cell. They are the ultimate brotp.

Gwen -- probably Grizz. She's the only person he's confided in with his sexuality (besides Sam). On the same level, he's the only person she's the least bit vulnerable with in the whole show, so I think they could be good friends.

Headcanon:

Clark -- His best classes in high school were science classes! He might've needed some help with the math portions, but he rocked the hell out of labs (even if he refused to wear safety goggles properly).

Gwen -- She's actually really nice and sweet if you make an effort to get to know her. She puts up and icey front to protect aspects of herself she's self-conscious about, but if you make an effort to be her true friend, she'll opens up with time. It's just that she's afraid of sincerity, but once you've gotten past that, she's really a good friend.

Unpopular opinion: I'm sorry but they're both exactly the type of people I would hate if they went to my school. If I saw Clark and Gwen in person, I would despise them on a surface level. It's just that they both hold morals that are not even close to those that I agree with. Seeing them on screen is different because I appreciate them as characters and can dissect them through analysis, but if I saw them in person I'd probably steer clear in the nicest way possible.

A wish:

Clark -- for Clark I wish a major redemption arc. I know he's been kind of a jerk from the beginning but I want him to realize that he doesn't have to be in power to get treated like someone with a brain. Because we joke about these guys being idiots but I think, given the opportunity, they could come up with good ideas an solutions to problems.

Gwen -- for Gwen I wish she would realize that she doesn't need a boyfriend or a hookup to feel good about herself. I think a lot of her personality is stored within being with a man and I just want her to find out that life isn't all about having a romantic/sexual partner.

Oh God please dont.... let Clark go too off the deep end I want my nice goofy guard back goddammit.

Oh God please dont.... make Gwen a villain of any kind?? She doesn't deserve that.

5 words to describe them:

Clark -- Goofy but dangerously power hungry.

Gwen -- hides behind romance, very lonely.

Nickname:

Clark -- I just call him by his name most times. I do like his last name (Beecher) though. Also my dog's brother's name is Clark so there's that.

Gwen -- again I just call her by her name. It makes me think of Queen Guinevere though, so her name sounds very royal to me.

#clark beecher #gwen patterson #the society #maddie replies #evendeathgiveslife #ask game #wow that took forever sorry for the wait!#thanks for asking!

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