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suniloli · 2 months

Text

LISTEN TO THE MUSIC

28 Feb 2024

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: Swearing, sexual themes, allusions to SA, descriptions of violence and death, angst

Setting: Alexandria (s5)

Summary: Your time after the fall of the prison has your mind all over the place. Upon arriving at Alexandria, you discover something that you think will help bring your mind to peace. Unfortunately, you're becoming more detached from those who love you, including Daryl. He sees you venture off into the darkness one night and decides to follow.

Author Note: This took me AGES to finish…..I’ve just had so much on. Faith No More’s ‘Easy’ inspired a certain scene that this one's based on. Tried not to make it cringe, mate :)

SIDE NOTE: I’ve written it so the song matches up to that part of the story if you want to listen to it while it plays out.

It had been two months, and you still hadn't gotten comfortable in the walls of your new home. It was so incredibly odd. This town, Alexandria, was just so out of the ordinary. It was still hard to fathom that a place of such domesticity, which was so reflective of the world before, existed utterly untouched. You were in it, living there, and acting as if suburban-ty was all that ever was.

Well, you weren't acting in the usual sense. You knew what was out there. You'd never forget.

And the rest of your family wouldn’t forget either. They just appeared to be better at adjusting to this new life than you were.

The issue was that you felt uneasy. The walls' protection was alluring, but you always felt something was off. It was an intangible feeling you couldn't quite grasp or explain. It was akin to being in the Twilight Zone. Alexandria was almost blurring the lines between this new reality and your past one — it made you doubt who you once were, what you did, and whether you actually led the life you did before. It also made you doubt who you were now, and whether outside the walls was real or just a figment of your imagination.

You couldn't relax. You couldn't let go and appreciate the break from chaos and stress. That's why you took as many opportunities as possible to get out and breathe in the fresh air. To remind yourself that you weren't going crazy.

You hoped that this would pass. You also hoped you were just being stupid and that your paranoia wasn't based on truth. But you just couldn't let go of that nagging feeling telling you not to get too comfortable.

Ever since your escape from the prison, it was like your mind was on autopilot. Now that living wasn't just survival day to day, all of those memories — memories of escaping alone, of killing both walkers and people, struggling to find food and water. Having to savagely kill men who'd stalked and found you, and tried to do all sorts of things to your mind and body. Going through a depression of having lost everything and all the people you loved. Memories of Terminus. Of seeing people slaughtered right next to you. Of having the knife to your throat because you were next. And somehow, more impactful than the rest: the feeling of reuniting with your family for the first time, only for your soul to be crushed at seeing them all lined up prepared to die like lambs to the slaughter, just as you were going to be. Memories of seeing your comrades Rick and Glenn and your newfound ally Bob there. Your heart racing upon making eye contact with Daryl, but being wholly shattered when you saw pure fear lace your best friend's gaze. You'd never seen him like that before…

Now, because you were inside the walls again, all of it came flooding back. It still haunted you. Being inside reminded you of everything you'd lost and endured.

However, being in such a well-looked-after settlement surrounded by 'normal' people going about their daily chores and lives also reminded you of other things you'd lost. In particular, something from before when your own life was 'normal.'

Music.

No matter where or what you were doing, listening to, singing, and dancing to music was one of your favourite things. It had the power to move you. Some songs truly spoke to your heart. Some ignited within you your stellar ability to dance and feel the beat. Others brought you comfort. Some made you cry.

In your opinion, music was, and still is, one of art's most vivid and beautiful expressions. It has such an ability to speak to the soul, to inspire it, and let it be free.

So, as with most things people love, it was one of the things you most yearned for.

Selfishly, that was one of the few reasons you suggested to Deanna that your job be to go on runs. Rick vouched for you, saying you were one of your family's strongest, more capable fighters. He stated that you were smart, resourceful, etcetera, etcetera, which was true, but he didn't know you had your motives either.

Given your recent struggle to sleep at night and the aloofness accompanying your every action within the walls, you thought giving yourself a specific task would help calm your mind and allow you to think coherently.

You liked the thought of having a little private project to yourself. Although sleep constantly refused to take you into its arms, just the mere prospect of listening to and enjoying music again was enough to continue this trend of insomnia (though probably not for the best) and perhaps provide you with the means to focus and get all of your emotions and thoughts straight.

So, you had developed a little routine come nightfall. Slowly, over the past few weeks, you accumulated the parts and accessories needed to listen to a beaten-up walkman you found. You made it your mission on every run you went on to find wire, fitted screws, and anything which would aid you in repairing it, as well as to devise some working earbuds. And on top of that, you were working on collecting tapes and swapping and changing them until you had a playlist you could enjoy. Things were much easier with your iPod back in the day, but you hadn't gotten your hands on anything like that. Plus, the internet didn't exist anymore, so even if you wanted to add and change songs, you couldn't. Bummer.

Although it may have been harder to collate music, the very act of holding the tapes and taking apart and assembling the little black brick made you more appreciative of the art form. Additionally, the anticipation of your hard work eventually paying off kept you going when you couldn't sleep. It was the thought that you could experience some semblance of peace as melodies and tunes washed over your brain, coaxing it into a state of tranquillity that had evaded you ever since you were on the road, which gave you a new energy.

Every action performed at your bedroom workbench felt like a labour of love, where you were reminded of the power of music to weave its way into the very fabric of your memories and remind you of your true self. It was the perfect distraction from all the other distractions plaguing you.

You just needed to accept that perhaps Alexandria was both the bane and revival of your existence.

It was 3 am, according to the working clock in your room. Focusing back on the task, you gently opened the walkman and placed your tiny screwdriver on the table. Placing a tape in the cassette player, you closed it back up and carefully grasped your homemade earbuds. Plugging them into the audio jack, you pressed the play button.

Immediately, the gears inside the cassette started shifting, and finally, the tape didn't tangle. A soft whirring sounded, and the small noises of a drum rift softly erupted from the sound output.

With shaking fingers, you grasped an earbud and lifted it to your ear. Sure enough, the opening riff to a rock song was playing.

You let escape a giggle of disbelief. Slowly but surely, it turned to loud, almost manic laughter.

No way. No fucking way.

Daryl was worried about you. Really worried about you.

He'd been able to reconnect with his family since they all found each other again after the prison. Although he'd also technically reunited with you at Terminus, he couldn't reconnect with you.

Daryl had many conversations with Carol about it. At least Rick's craziness revolved around his concern for his family's safety and his passion to keep you together. You, on the other hand, were somehow changed differently. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but you were slowly slipping away from everyone.

You were slipping away from him.

Carol suggested that it was tough on you, whatever had happened while you were out there alone. Easy for her to say. She was adjusting just fine with her innocent neighbour costume and whatnot, which he thought was ridiculous. However, she had made several observant points: there were scars on your body at Terminus that weren’t there at the prison. You were quiet, quite different from the sassy, talkative woman he knew and grew incredibly fond of.

Of course, Daryl had noticed those things. It was just reassuring to know that it wasn't only him who noticed. It was also comforting to understand that you weren’t just shutting him out, either. Although it still stung. It stung a lot.

After all, you two had gotten so close that he felt comfortable enough to show you his own scars, physical and emotional, and you your own — it was like the both of you formed an unbreakable bond: one of complete trust and companionship.

And now, he could tell you were struggling more than even he was, but your pride didn’t allow you to express that outwardly.

But Daryl knew. He could see it in your eyes, in your walk. Ever since Terminus, you refused to really talk with him. You refused to allow yourself to be vulnerable and shouldered it all on your own, letting it accumulate and weigh you down.

Damn stubborn woman.

You two were similar in many ways — Daryl also tended to be sceptical, and refused to let others bear his pain. But you were letting it affect every aspect of your life, even if you outwardly presented as composed and stoic to the average person.

But again, Daryl knew you. He knew you inside and out. And you knew him. You both shared something unexplainable that he could only put down to one thing, from his end at least.

Love.

When the prison fell, Daryl tried to find you, but you were gone without a trace. He spent his time with Beth in depressive thoughts of not only his home and family perishing, but the fact that he might have left you to die underneath the rubble — that you died because of him.

But then Beth brought him out of it because a little part of her reminded him of you — your optimism and strength to push past any obstacle that stood in your way.

It was her death that almost made him lose complete hope in humanity.

But, that fateful day, when the people at Terminus revealed you as one of the other poor victims of their cannibalistic desires, he was filled with a renewed sense of urgency. He couldn’t let you die again. He was scared shitless.

It was kneeling at the trough, and seeing you battered and scarred, that he realised he loved you. He was in love with you. Seeing your pleading eyes connect with his, he realised then that he’d been in love with you for a long time.

So, when you all managed to free yourselves from your bindings and escape that wretched train station, he would never let you go again as long as he lived.

But the moment he saw you brutalise those people there, and saw that crazed look in your eyes, Daryl knew you’d changed.

That first night of freedom, you remained physically close to him. Daryl didn’t sleep, but you snuggled up to him, finding comfort in his presence. You slept with your arms wrapped around his torso and head on his chest, and surprisingly, he found the courage to lay his head against yours and softly run his hand against your arm. But the next day, and for the months after, you had rejected his touch and everyone else’s.

At first, Daryl thought he had done something wrong, that you regretted being that physically close to him — that he’d crossed some boundary in your relationship. But he was perceptive and soon realised that your distance wasn’t about him. It was about something deeper that had changed within you during your time alone in the wilderness.

Daryl made sure to keep an eye out for you. Although you didn’t say much about how you were feeling, you still always acknowledged him, telling him you were okay.

He hated seeing you like this — constantly plagued by whatever haunted you. If only you’d open up to him, you’d both realise that you were dealing with similar things.

So, instead of invading your space, Daryl tried to lift you in other ways, such as by trying to make you laugh more often or gifting you with something thoughtful, like the dainty silver arrow necklace he gave to you when you were both on watch a couple of weeks ago.

Occasionally, he’d see glimpses of the real you: you'd gift him your beautiful laughter or that gorgeous smile he constantly dreamt about, in return. He cherished it when you had dangled the necklace he gave you in your palm, and you’d held his hand with your other, squeezing it gently.

Sometimes, he wished he could hear you more like he used to. He remembered your singing. Although Daryl made out it was annoying when you used to randomly burst into passionate song, and grab him by the arm to get him to reciprocate (in which he half-scowled in return), he thought you were so incredibly charming. Sometimes, Daryl thought you might’ve even meant some of those lyrics…

Now, though, you were mainly preoccupied, never honestly in the present. And considering that Daryl had seen your light on at night for the past week from his porch across the street, he knew it was perhaps time to approach you.

As Daryl was outside letting the nicotine from his cigarette fill his lungs, he watched as your silhouette moved from behind your illuminated window curtain to out of view.

Before he could snuff his cigarette out and walk over, he was ripped from his thoughts as, unusually, the yellow hue of your window suddenly turned dark. Maybe ya were finally tired.

He squinted his eyes as he faintly heard the screen door to your shared house flip open and close again, a flurry of movement following behind. It was you, and you seemed…huh…there was a sharpness to your movements. You got to the bottom of the stairs, went to the sidewalk, and down the road into the dark.

Daryl waited for a few minutes before he decided to follow.

Daryl's footsteps were quiet along the pavement. The only thing that illuminated his path was the luminosity of the moonlight, and even then, it was difficult to see. But, ever the skilled hunter, his eyes adjusted quickly, and soon enough, he found you sitting by the edge of the lake in the middle of the settlement.

Approaching slowly from behind, he took louder steps, attempting to alert you of his presence. Surprised you hadn't heard him, Daryl went to call your name but paused just short — he could hear some soft mumbling.

Usually, he would have left anyone in your situation alone, but seeing you like this broke Daryl's heart. Kneeling down next to you, he gently touched your shoulder.

"Woah!!" you startled, sharply turning your body to face whoever was there and shuffling away from the threat. Upon realising it was the archer, you sighed a sigh of relief. "Daryl…"

"Ya alrigh’ Y/N?" he started. Still kneeling, he adjusted his stance. Observing you, Daryl registered that you had earphones plugged into your ears and a goddamn walkman in your lap. “S’all this?” he questioned, gesturing towards your person.

You closed your eyes for a couple of seconds, savouring the final riff of the song being played. A small smile tugged at your lips as you gently pulled out the earbuds and hung them from your ears. Contemplating Daryl’s questions, you were reluctant to answer both.

“What are you doing here?” You deflected.

“Comin’ ta check on ya’. I want ta know what’s goin’ on with ya’. Ya refuse ta talk ta me. Ever since…” he broke off with a throat clearing. “I can tell somethin’s up.”

“Trust me, it’s nothing — ”

“Well it most definitely don’ seem like nothin’” he gruffed. This was going to be hard. And as established, you were a hard one to crack. Like him, he supposed.

Daryl sat down, legs outstretched in front of him. You sighed deeply, lost in thought. He could see you deliberating something in your mind, so he waited for you to speak.

“Here.” You suddenly declared, crawling towards him and planting yourself on the ground, leaving little space between you. You held the walkman out to him so he could see it better. Daryl was now staring at you intently. You glanced from your outstretched hand to his face. You continued, the soft rumblings of bass emitting from the next song playing through the earbuds.

“I, uh…haven’t been sleeping, so I’ve been working on this. Fixing it up, collecting tapes. Making it mine…”

You turned the device over in your hand and looked down again to observe it. You could feel Daryl’s stare burning into the side of your head.

“I get it, ya know. I can’t sleep neither. Can’t really relax in ‘ere.”

You hummed in agreement. Shaking your head slightly, you looked up towards the lake, observing the small ripples illuminated by the moon. “Music was my life. Is. I was hoping that doing this…bringing it back would occupy my mind,” you vaguely waved your hand around, “I don’t know…make it easier…”

Daryl chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully. “Ya coulda’ told me ya’ were strugglin’. Ya’ have so many people here for ya’...I’m here for ya’…ya’ know that.”

You looked away from the lake and into Daryl's eyes. You could see something alight in them that you weren't sure you wanted to acknowledge just yet. Despite the happiness you'd felt when listening to the Walkman, a lump formed in your throat, and once again, that anxiousness you'd experience whenever you even contemplated opening up was brewing. But this was Daryl. Why were you suddenly feeling this way? Was it even that?

“It’s just too hard to explain…feels like I’m goin’ fucking crazy...” you mumbled.

Daryl softly placed his hand on your thigh and squeezed almost imperceptibly. Something about his touch burned.

"Ya' know, I thought I was going crazy too…" Daryl whispered, almost shyly. You couldn't break from his gaze. "Ya were gone for so long...thought I'd never see ya' again." He admitted.

A puff of air escaped your nose, and you looked down at the hand on your thigh. Memories of explosions and debris flying flashed through your mind, reminding you of screaming Daryl’s name until your throat was hoarse. Subconsciously, you fiddled with the arrowhead chain around your neck, recalling how lost you were out there all alone. Without your family. Without your best friend. Without your Daryl.

“Me too,” your voice broke. With his other hand, Daryl slowly lifted up your chin to face him again, moving his thumb tenderly across your cheek. You could sense the moment he drew his attention to the pink sizeable scar there, thumb and eyes moving to it and trailing across it as if in question.

“What happened to ya out there?” Daryl whispered, chewing his bottom lip. It took all your strength not to recoil at the question.

“So many people have died to get to where we are now. And I’m sure everyone here experienced the same shit…I’m just being selfish —”

“Ya ain’t selfish Y/N…anyone can see ya’ ain’t ya’self. I hate seeing ya’ be consumed by whatever's on ya' mind everyday. Please, talk’ ta me…” Daryl was gentle, but was as firm with his words. He continued slowly dragging his thumb across your cheek for a couple of seconds, then seemingly realised what he was doing and pulled away.

You were conflicted.

Daryl’s touch left your skin charred. Everything about him made you feel butterflies. But that, intermingling with the anxious beating of your heart was going to give you a heart attack.

Here Daryl was, insisting you talk to him. He was the closest person you’d ever been to. Here he still was, showing you his affections.

“I’m sorry…” you whispered, wrapping your arms around yourself. Daryl’s gaze softened.

“What fer?”

“For blocking you out…this whole time you’ve been here for me, wanted to be here with me and I’ve given you nothing…” You couldn’t even begin to utter the words. The anger. The shame. “I’ve seen how weary you are of this place. How much you blame yourself for things that have happened. I’m sorry for not being there for you. For not giving you anything, ever.”

A few seconds passed by Daryl in stunned silence.

“Y/N….” he whispered. You don’t know who moved first, but now your bodies were touching. “Ya are ma’ everythin’...everythin’ ya’ do, with me and for me... yer’ laugh, yer’ smile, talkin’ ta me…it’s more than I could’ve ever asked for in this life…”

You looked at him. For the first time in months, you really looked at him. It was hard to form words. As you gazed into his piercing blue eyes, yours grew blurry with unshed tears. Daryl's explored yours, trying to decipher the feeling there.

You'd never been more touched and more loved than in this moment.

Loved.

It dawned on you just how much you really loved him.…

The weight of his gaze had you looking down, discreetly wiping your eyes of such emotion with your hand. Grabbing his hand in yours, you managed to find that trust you two had shared so deeply, and allowed yourself to give in to it.

“It was really rough out there,” you began. Daryl hesitantly squeezed your hand, but once you squeezed back, he intertwined your fingers. The very act spurred you on. “This was a group of men,” you said, a fire in your eyes as you pointed to your cheek with your other hand. “It's not even what they tried to do…it's how after, there was no going back…”

Daryl didn’t utter a word. His very presence was like a beacon of warmth, fuelling the anger in your eyes. Daryl’s anger also heightened.

“I’ve never…mutilated…anyone like I did then, ever. I didn’t even know I was capable of it.”

You heard a soft grunt from Daryl.

“Now, I just have a festering anger at anyone who tries anything…it’s like I don’t care anymore. Those people at Terminus…I just wanted them all fucking dead.” You said with a jarring resolution that Daryl could nevertheless understand.

Daryl recalled the moment he saw you at Terminus. If he was scared shitless, he couldn’t even begin to imagine how you felt with the knife to your throat. But your next utterance interrupted his thoughts of that day.

“They fucking deserved it, that night in the woods…” you seethed. “But I couldn’t look at myself after. There was so much blood…it was just everywhere. I got some of them in their sleep, slit their throats, some of them woke up to me cutting em’ up…”

There was a far away look in your eyes, as if you were reliving the moments. Daryl saw goosebumps raise on your arms, even though the evening breeze was warm.

Daryl had an inkling, but he needed to know what they did. He wanted to kill the rest of them himself if they lived.

“What’d they do ta ya’?” he gritted through his teeth. His grip on your hand tightened. It was now that you broke eye contact.

“What do you think? They tied me up…touched me, left me by a tree afterwards. I managed to free myself in the night…”

Daryl gripped both of your shoulders firmly.

“They all dead?”

You nodded.

“Good.”

Daryl’s response was terse, but was filled with sad understanding, passion and something else you couldn’t quite place. You were filled with shame. Not only about what they had done to you, but the fact that you were shoving this all on Daryl too. It’s not like he could do anything about it —

“Ya thinkin’ too loud,” Daryl hummed. You turned your head a bit away from him, trying to distance yourself further in hopes to hide your embarrassment. Daryl chewed his lip. “They fuckin’ deserved wha’ was comin’.”

You inhaled a deep breath. The smell of night time filled your nostrils, with an incredibly subtle undertone of cigarette smoke and leather vest seeping in. Your lungs were filled with familiarity. It was comforting.

The warmth in your chest being ignited spurred on memories of the prison, when you and Daryl would spend nights close together in the watchtowers, talking about nothing and everything. Usually he’d be smoking a cigarette, wearing his signature vest, and the smell lingered then too.

You remembered how different you were back then. How innocent. How removed you were from the horrors of brutal killing and maiming. You never had a thirst for blood then, when someone did you wrong. Now you were harder. More cold. It concerned you.

Daryl’s hands gently rubbing your arms brought you back to him.

“I know,” you replied curtly. “But that’s not even what keeps me up…it’s like ever since we got here, my mind hasn’t been able to let go of that ‘feral-ness.’ I still think about how I got all that blood on my hands. And I can't get rid of the paranoia that something else bad is gonna happen…”

Daryl grunted in agreement. “Ya’ shouldn’t be so hard on ya’self. The fact yer’ thinking ‘bout it makes ya’ gud. And I feel paranoid too, bein’ here...but Y/N,” Daryl made you look at him.

“Nothin’s gon’ happen to ya’. Nothin bad’s gon’ happen as long as I’m with ya’. I won’ let anyone do anythin’ to ya’, alrigh’? Ya’ don’t gotta worry.”

The way he was looking at you now made a familiar fluttering erupt in your stomach that you hadn’t given yourself the privilege to truly feel. A small smile emerged on your lips. Looking into his eyes now, you noticed they were electrified with emotion. You were sure yours mirrored Daryl’s by the way he was looking at you, an equal mix of intensity and appreciation there.

Daryl drew his gaze to your eyes, down to your lips, and across to your scarred cheek. He brought his hand up, and cupped that same cheek again, touching it with a graze so gentle, he could've thought his finger and your cheek were one.

“I meant what I said before,” he whispered. The smile on your face moulded into an expression of shy curiousness as you leaned into his warm touch. “Ya’ are ma’ evry’thing…have been fer a long time.”

Somehow, Daryl’s sincerity was filled with such profound emotion, that hearing him say it was like a punch to the guts. His words winded you, rendering you almost speechless.

Before you could respond, the music in your earbuds picked up, adding to the ambiance of the moment. As if the universe was attempting to serenade the intimacy between you two, you turned up the volume, and recognised the song immediately. Smiling a big, genuine smile, you slowly stood the both of you up, placed one earbud in your ear, and the other in Daryl’s.

“Surely you know this one,” you said, a playfully soft glint in your eyes. Daryl could only look on with surprise.

The opening piano riff filled his eardrums. Of course he knew it. You moved to slowly sway with him.

🎵 I know it sounds funny but I just can’t stand the pain

Girl, I’m leaving you tomorrow

Seems to me girl you know I’ve done all I can

You see I beg stole, and I borrowed 🎵

Daryl could hear you quietly humming along. It was beautiful. You both swayed with each other as the chorus filled your ears, smiles adorning both your faces. Daryl’s hold on your hips tightened as he found more comfort in your movements, slowly caressing the spots there. Your hands tightened around his neck, bringing your faces that bit closer. Mouthing the words, you looked at Daryl. He grew the courage to sing the next verse to you.

“I wanna’ be high, so high,” he rasped. You looked at him in pure awe and something else he couldn’t pick. “I wanna be free to know the things I do are right —”

“I wanna be free-ee!” You interrupted, “Just me…oh baby…”

As the bridge in the song played, the tension between the two of you reached new heights. Your heart started racing. You could feel Daryl’s pulse also racing underneath your palms. Daryl’s pupils were almost completely dilated.

As the guitar solo played, Daryl pulled you in close, connecting his lips with yours. Immediately, your mouths melded together as if you’d kissed hundreds of times before. The kiss was so soft, yet so passionate. Your hands moved to hold Daryl’s jaw and the back of his head, and he ran his own hands up your back.

The sensual tone of the guitar matched that of the smoothness and sultriness between the two of you at that moment. It was as if the alluring quality of the solo gave you both an unwavering confidence about how each other felt.

As the chorus broke through your ears again, your mouths disconnected, and you both heaved in large breaths. You had never seen larger smiles on the other ever. Daryl gazed at you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Pulling his hand from your behind, he slowly dragged his thumb across your bottom lip, and you caressed his jawline.

You savoured the final melodies of the song. You couldn’t help yourself looking at Daryl’s smirk, leaning in to give him a few more soft pecks there. Chasing you for more as you pulled away, Daryl displayed to you the fondest expression you’d ever seen.

You let a breathy giggle escape your lips. “You’re more than I ever could’ve asked for too, D.”

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 7 months

Text

.⋆｡Impeachment Part 2｡⋆.

Alpha!Rick Grimes x omega!reader x Alpha!Daryl Dixon

Everything was gone and destroyed but she was still theirs

Warnings: angst, death, presumed death of reader and unborn baby, walkers, violence, captivity, malnutrition/starvation, injury, guilt, sort of amnesia

WC: 4.8k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness

“I just wanted to come see how you were settling in, I know that being in a new place can be jarring to those who have been on the outside.” As Deanna spoke, Carol slipped from Daryl’s hold and fell in line behind him, as if he was protecting her.

In an unconscious move, Rick stepped forward, using his body as a shield to block the Alexandrian’s view of the group. “We’re just getting used to bein’ behind walls again. Tends to make us jumpy.” The alpha understood, nodding in sympathy.

“You're safe now, both from roamers and other people. These walls are strong, nothing can get in.” Rick's hair stood on end. That's what they said about the prison. The air in the small house was tense as an awkwardness fell over the group.

Carol shifted then, the floorboards creaked loudly.

Deanna's brown eyes flashed, catching sight of Carol’s excited state, but said nothing. She walked back out of the house, glancing back only once with a silent warning to stay in the house. “Have a good rest of your night.”

As soon as the door shut behind her, Carol exploded. “Please, we have to go.”

Rick sighed heavily through his nose. “First, you tell us what happened.” The other's attention flicked back to the omega who was now trembling with nerves.

She glanced around, searching for some sort of approval to take off again, this time with the pack alphas in tow but when she only received looks of confusion and general concern, her excitement died down to a simmer. “I was going to the armoury but something about that woman they had in the infirmary bothered me.”

The house was easy to break into given that there seemed to be no locks in the entire city. Darkness clung to every corner, creating an eerie air that set her on edge as she moved to the basement of the home.

The snarls coming from the back room were downright savage as Carol snuck closer, her shoes not making any sound against the cold concrete. The scent emanating from the room was sour but the undertones were incredibly familiar, like something nostalgic, reminding her of a better time. With a trembling hand, the omega twisted the doorknob, pushing the door open slowly.

Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of the woman curled up in the corner of the room. A tattered shirt hung from her frame, the ripped cloth doing nothing to keep her warm or hide her distended stomach. It looked wrong, the way the huge bump was hanging off her frame, how skinny she now was. The natural softness she carried was now gone, the thick curves she was known for, had disappeared. Her eyes were a bright amber, a tell-tale sign of the omega having gone feral.

But beneath the dirt and grime, Carol could see that young omega they thought they lost, she could see the two claiming marks on opposite sides of her neck, each one with a bite radius matching the two men who had been desperately searching for her.

She gasped involuntarily and the omega's yellow eyes snapped to Carol and a growl echoed through her chest. It was so deep and so unnatural it legitimately frightened the unshakeable woman. A warning. 'Stay away, I will kill you to protect my pup'.

She took a step back but didn’t leave the room. Her head was lowered, her eyes locked on the woman’s. “I'll be back ok. Stay here.” The answer came in the form of another growl as Carol turned and ran out, gunning straight back to her pack.

“Are you sure?” It was Carl that broke the silence when she finished speaking. His eyes sparkled with tears and stepped closer to her. “Is it really her?”

“It ain’t her.” Daryl snapped. “She's dead.” Carl swallowed thickly, leaning into his father's side for some sort of comfort. He had lost two mothers less than 6 months apart from each other and he could hardly bear it.

Rick placed a hand on his boy's shoulder. “We don't know that for sure but Daryl's right, the probability that it is,” he tried to say her name but it caught in his throat, choking him, “it's incredibly unlikely.”

Carol snapped back. “I know what I saw and I was around her enough to have her scent permanently etched into my mind. It's her.”

“No it ain't!” Daryl was red with rage but the tear that rolled down his dusty cheek told an entirely different story, one that everyone in that room knew all-too-well. If she was alive, they had left her behind to die, turning her savage in the process.

Even before the world fell, there were cases of omega and alphas going feral, even some betas in rare instances. It was a survival tactic. With the brain reverting back to its primal self, anyone could survive the most dire of circumstances. It only usually happened with soldiers or people trapped in an abusive relationship.

But now, Rick supposed, it would be extremely common. “But if Carol's right, there's no telling if we would be able to bring Y/N back. Who knows how long she's been feral for.” Glenn pointed out, somehow managing to make everyone feel worse.

“I'll go back and check it out with Carol. If she's right, we can try to help her. We have both of her alphas and both of her pups, that should do something. And if it isn't her, we can move on.” Taking charge, Maggie spoke up but looked to Rick for approval given the severity of the consequences should two members of their group be found wandering well after dark.

His first instinct was to say no, there was no way he could risk all of their safeties for one person (even if it was his omega and unborn pup) but as he looked over his pack and watching how their eyes lit up with both despair and hope, he knew that he couldn't refuse. “If you're not back in 20 minutes-”

Carol had taken Maggie's hand and was out the door before he could finish his sentence. He huffed. “Y'all go get some more sleep, we don't know what's gonna happen tomorrow.” That appeased the others, especially since they had almost no clue who Y/N was save for some vague mentions of her.

Carl and Daryl stayed in the foyer. “It ain't her.” But Daryl's voice was broken and weak. Conflict swirled in the blue of his eyes. He wanted so badly for her to be alive but to be alive and in that condition because of his inability to protect her- it was killing him.

“It's not your fault. Or my dad's. This could be our chance to get her back.” Carl almost begged the other man. “Just have hope.” Daryl scoffed and turned his back on them, storming off to a quiet part of the house.

“Go check on your sister, I'll deal with him.” Rick followed after, his own heart heavy with guilt.

Maggie kept her head on a swivel, watching for any movement from the empty streets and dark houses. Carol however, had her eyes locked forwards, speeding back to the infirmary.

A light drizzle had started, cooling down the warm night air considerably but that wasn't the cause of Carol's goosebumps. They had lost too many already, whether it was from walkers or even other humans, so the prospect of getting someone back was overwhelming. She thundered up the few steps and threw open the front door, Maggie close behind.

Carol was so deep in her excitement that she didn't notice that the yowling had stopped, but the other woman did. “Carol-” She started but her warning went ignored.

The basement door was open just wide enough for the dull yellow light of a lone lantern to illuminate the hallway. The wood slammed into the wall as the door was thrown open by the older omega, making both women freeze.

The room was barren save for a ratty blanket on the concrete ground. “She was here! I swear!” Maggie cautiously inched into the room. She scooped up the torn fabric and brought it up to her nose.

“I believe you, her scent is fresh.” The silent question was left hanging in the air, 'where did she go?'.

——————

It had taken less than 2 weeks for the relative safety of Alexandria to collapse. The first cracks had appeared on that first night. When Maggie and Carol returned alone but with a blanket that reeked of their lost packmate, Daryl had almost gone mad searching the town for her. He had caught her scent only once and it was outside the wall. It led them all to question the strength of the huge steel plates if a starved and heavily pregnant omega could scale it.

Then Noah was gone and the rift between the Alexandrians and them got even larger. It seemed like nothing could unite the two groups, especially after Rick became de-facto leader after Reg’s death.

Everything felt so wrong and out of place. With the discovery of the herd in the quarry and the realisation that Y/N was still alive somewhere, those feelings only got worse for Carl.

Chaos rippled through Alexandria, leaving deep panic and blood in its wake. People had somehow scaled the great walls of the city and had already killed so many of their own. A bulk of the fighters were gone, effectively leaving the women and children undefended and woefully underprepared for any attack.

Adrenaline coursed through Carl's veins, sharpening his senses but his reactions were still a milli-second too slow. There was already a cut along his forearm that burned and his hands trembled. Enid was silent beside him, Judith pinned to her chest as the three of them darted into another house on the outskirts of town.

The image of that man with the 'W' carved into his forehead flashed behind Carl's eyelids, just the same as every other person he had killed. Enid began to speak but he turned his back on her, instead silently looking through the house for any unwanted guests.

This whole thing was so painfully reminiscent of the Governor’s attack and the only thing he could do was keep him and Judith safe. They would survive just like before.

He breathed a sigh of relief as the rooms turned up empty and quiet. “What do we do now?” Enid spoke up, her voice strained with panic.

“I guess we wait.” Dust floated up from the couch as the teens sat down, finally able to catch their breaths.

Judith cooed at her older brother before looking up at the ceiling and repeating the sound, this time even louder. “Is she seeing ghosts or something?” Edith attempted to joke but instead just got silence back and the baby taken from her arms.

“She just likes making noises.” As if to confirm his theory, Judith chose that moment to squeal excitedly, wiggling in his arms without taking her eyes off of the ceiling.

The wood above them creaked, sending a light dusting of plaster down onto the three children. Carl and Enid seized with fear while Judith continued to make noise.

“Stay here.” With the baby quickly thrust back into her arms, Enid had no choice but to remain on the couch, watching with wide eyes as Carl drew his gun and cautiously climbed the stairs to the second floor.

He was sure he had checked every room carefully. He knew he did. But as he got closer to the master bedroom and the noises got louder, he began to doubt himself. His steps were light, desperately trying to avoid any creaky floorboards that would alert whatever was hiding about his position.

His knuckles were deathly pale as he tightened his grip around his gun, the barrel trembled only slightly with his nerves. Carl pushed the bedroom door open with the end of the weapon and once again was met with a completely empty room but the soft groaning was still present and he could now tell that it was leaking from the closet on the opposite end.

A sudden shout from Judith made him jump but his attention snapped back to the closet when something slammed into the wood heavily.

“Just a walker, it’s just a walker.” He murmured to himself. His left hand dropped from the butt of the pistol and he gingerly grabbed the doorknob, ready to turn it and then immediately back off to give himself some room for a clean shot.

Taking in a single deep breath, he steadied his gun and refocused his senses. Then he turned the knob.

Silence overtook the room but only for a few seconds when the sound of chains shifting emanated from the small dark space. Then a foot stepped over the threshold, and a hand curled into the doorframe as whatever was trapped inside finally pulled itself out.

The first thing Carl saw was her eyes- bright yellow with the pupils near the size of pin drops as they locked onto him. They weren’t the eyes of a walker. Even fresh, the ghouls supported milky white irises.

She did not snarl at him nor lunge, instead her head tilted and she sniffed the air. She took another step forward and finally Carl could see her two claiming marks, and more importantly, her pregnant belly.

“Mom.” The word slipped from his mouth before he could stop it. She froze and a purr rumbled through the room. “Yeah! You know me, it’s Carl. And Judith is downstairs. You remember Judith don’t you?” She blinked at him, there was no comprehension behind her eyes.

Carl sighed. “We’ll work on it.”

It was only then that he noticed the heavy chain around her neck. There were spots of blood along her collarbone from where the metal had pulled at her skin. “Shit.” He muttered.

The gun slid easily into the waistband at his back and with his hands now free, he carefully approached her. She watched him but didn’t move which he took as a good sign.

From what he could tell, the chain had been looped around her neck a couple times and then locked to a hook haphazardly drilled into the side of the closet. He was confident that he could pull it straight out of the wall if he got enough leverage.

As he moved closer, Y/N shifted to the side, allowing him to slip into the closet behind her.

The small space was absolutely rancid but he continued forward, albeit holding his breath. She blocked out the light some but he was still able to see where she was bound to the wall. Already one of the screws on the anchor was gone so gathering up some of the slack from her chain, he wound it around his hands and with an almighty tug, it came loose from the drywall.

“See, that was easy enough.” She stood stock still as he delicately lifted her bounds from around her neck, letting the metal drop to the hardwood with a clatter.

Her eyes looked down at it then back to him. “E-e-e-zzz-ee.” She repeated, her voice broken and raspy from disuse.

Immediately Carl lit up. “That’s right! Easy!” The corner of her lip turned up into what he thought was supposed to be a smile but looked more like a grimace to him.

“Carl? You’ve been up here for a while, is everything ok?” Enid called out and just like that, Y/N was once again hunched over and snarling aggressively.

“Stay there!” He called out but he was too late. The teen stepped into the bedroom, Judith still in her arms. She froze, her eyes going wide.

“Who- who is that?” She asked, almost in disgust. She tried to turn away, to somehow shield the toddler in her arms from the sight of the feral omega but as soon as Judith disappeared from Y/N’s eye-line, she let out a deep warning growl.

“Give me Judith,” Carl urged, “right now.”

“Are you crazy?” She hissed, clinging even tighter to the unbothered toddler.

“Trust me.” As soon as Judith was in her brother’s arms, the growling stopped. And when he walked closer, the scent of milk and flowers filled the room. Y/N reached for the pair of them with shaky hands, her fingers just skimming the soft chubby cheek of her daughter.

“That’s why Judy was making so much noise, she could smell her.” Said girl giggled and tried to launch herself at the omega but Carl held tight. As much as he would love to have them properly reunited, he doubted she could support Judith’s weight in her arms after not eating properly for god knows how long.

Y/N looked at Carl while grabbing his wrist. He let her pull his hand away from his sister and closer to her belly. She laid his palm flat against the top of her bump.

The baby moved under his hand, softly kicking at his fingers. Relief washed over the boy and he felt a massive weight lift from his chest. “Dad's not gonna believe this.”

It took some coaxing (ie Carl using Judith like a carrot on a stick) but he was able to lead Y/N out of the master bedroom and down the stairs. He let her cradle Judith's head between her hands as he looked outside, watching for any of those freaks that had attacked them.

Only when he was sure that the streets were properly empty did he carefully open the front door. “Come on. Enid! Let's go!” He called back but the house was silent save for Y/N's purrs and Judith's coos.

“Goddamnit.” He knew he should go look for her but he also wanted to get his mother to safety and she would not be safe in the house where someone had kept her trapped. So, he walked away, heading back towards the centre of town, hopeful that his father and Daryl had returned.

Her bare feet scraped against the concrete as she trailed behind him. While her eyes were fixed on him and the baby, Carl could see the way her nose scrunched and her head tilted, alert for any sign of danger.

“Carl!” Rick's voice echoes through the street, panicked and strained.

He looked back at Y/N who had perked up slightly, the yellow of her eyes now holding flecks of its natural colour. He chanced it. “Dad!” Rick rounded the corner, gun at the ready and with a fire in his eyes but as soon as he saw the trio, he stumbled.

Even from a distance, Carl could see the way the breath was knocked from his lungs. Like Daryl, Rick blamed himself for their omega's disappearance. He felt the weight more heavily because he was not only responsible for her but also for the whole pack, his guilt ran deep, infecting every choice he made and slowly driving him mad.

When Daryl would leave Alexandria to search for her, Rick would stay behind, forcing himself to focus on the rest of his pack. He thought that if he could protect everyone else, the guilt would wane, but it never did.

“Omega!” His voice thundered down the street making Y/N freeze. There was some sort of recognition in her posture: her head bowed, shoulders slack but her lips still curled into a snarl and she attempted to snatch Judith from Carl's arms. She only succeeded in tugging both of her pups closer to her body.

“Omega.” He repeated, this time softer and offering her his empty hands. “It’s ok, I won’t hurt you or the pups.” He bowed his head and dropped his eyes to the ground in submission.

She growled again but it was softer and more confused. “I’m your alpha.” As slowly as he could, Rick extended his left arm and presented her with his wrist. While not as prominent as his neck, his scent still bled from his skin. Her nose twitched and as she leaned forward to sniff at his offered limb while keeping her eyes locked onto him.

Her brows furrowed and she took a step closer, her hand darting out to grip his wrist. Her cold nose rubbed against his cold skin as she inhaled even more of that intoxicating scent that tugged at part of her mind.

Carl beamed when she dropped his father’s hand in favour of burying her nose into the crook of his neck. Judith gave a chirp as she was squished between the two grown-ups, still partially in her brother’s arms and her mother’s.

Rick’s eyes fluttered shut as her own scent washed over him for the first time in almost 2 months, thick with fear and apprehension but it was hers all the same. Her bump pushed into his stomach and he felt like he could cry. She was safe, she was alive and she was back in his arms.

Warmth flooded their bond, bringing a smile to his face. She licked at the mark she had left on his scent gland months ago so Rick placed his hand on her hip, gently pulling her even closer. He winced as he realised just how malnourished she was. “Let’s go get you and the baby checked out and maybe some food.”

Her eyes remained uncomprehending but she followed after him anyway, his hand held tightly in hers.

Bodies lay in the streets, both enemies and friends alike as the moans of the undead just outside the walls form a macabre symphony. Y/N snarled under her breath and cupped her stomach while Carl glanced at his father, panic colouring his features.

“Is that the herd?”

“The plan went sideways but we'll think of a new one.” Rick promised, laying his free hand on the teen's shoulder.

“Enid's gone.”

His face hardened as he replied sternly. “As soon as we have a clear path out, we'll search for her. Daryl's still out there too.” His eyes flicked back to the omega who currently had her teeth bared at the solid walls. “We'll get them all back.” And he didn't just mean those trapped outside the city.

——————

There was a haze wrapped around Y/N's mind. It was like walking through a dense fog right as dawn broke- the light just barely strong enough to let her see a few inches in front of her but every step she took forward, the world that she knew was swallowed up and forgotten. She had no idea where she was going or where she had been but the tugging in her chest pulled her ever forward.

She had brief moments of clarity, snapshots in time that only materialised for a second before the fog descended once more.

The pop of gunfire and the smell of smoke as she ran barefoot into the woods.

Blood pouring from cuts on her hands as she scrambles up a crumbling lattice, the dead reaching for her, their rotting fingers only inches away from her feet.

Feeling the babe inside her belly kick for the first time. She cries.

Two men corner her in an abandoned warehouse. Their tone is comforting but their words are garbled. She tries to speak but all that comes out is a growl.

Another man, this one bigger and meaner looking, wrapping something cold around her neck. He spits on her face before sealing her into darkness.

But none of those snapshots compared to this moment.

Reality slammed into her chest like a freight train. Y/N gasped for air as she desperately looked around. She was in a house, a nice house by the looks of it and surrounded by people she didn't recognise.

The smell of copper and death fill the cramped room as people scream at each other, their voices like nails on chalkboard to her sensitive ears. She winced and attempted to curl into herself but was stopped by her huge belly.

Something about it isn't right but before she can recall why, her attention shifts to the form on the bed next to her. He's no older than 14 but he's tall and his brown hair is long. A white bandage covers half of his face. She knew that face.

Her hands trembled as she cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing against his skin. He did not react at all, just remained deathly still before her, the only movements of his body was the steady and too slow rising and lowering of his chest.

“Carl.” The name came to her and a second later, so did everything else. “Carl?” He was so big now, already growing into his features. He looked so much like his father.

His father.

Her head shot up, eyes scanning the now mostly empty room for her alphas. The front door was wide open, letting in the grotesque sounds of flesh being sliced open and bone shattering. The darkness from outside seemed to grow with each passing second as the moans grew louder.

Y/N leaned over Carl's body as if to afford him some protection if the walkers made their way inside but deep down she doubted that she could do much besides buy him a couple extra seconds. She felt weak, she was tired and her entire being ached.

“It's ok baby, I'll keep you safe.”

Suddenly, bright light streamed through the doorway and an explosion rocked the house. Y/N whimpered and cradled her boy as the sounds of celebration overpowered all else.

“They actually did it.” A plump woman wearing glasses murmured in shock. “I can't believe it.”

As an optimistic mood filled the room, the fog began to descend once more and Y/N could feel herself slipping away. “You!” She barked at the woman who quickly turned around, her eyes wide. “T-tell my alphas that I love them.” Her words slurred and jumbled together but the woman nodded anyway.

Y/N smiled in relief. “Tell 'em to be safe.” She looked down at her boy one more time and then everything disappeared once more.

The smell of gasoline and burning bodies only seemed to add to Daryl's frustration. The past few days had been absolute hell- he was tired, hurt and so strung out he felt like anything could set him off. And that's not to mention the weird feelings that constantly flowed into him through his bond.

Fear, relief, anger, love.

All of it was just too much.

As he watched the horde of walkers burn in the lake, he was consumed by his thoughts. Nowhere was safe, death constantly followed right behind them and some part of him knew that it would always be like that, no matter how hard they tried to change things.

His thick fingers pulled at the fraying threads of the bracelet around his wrist as he thought of his omega. He pictured that she was safe somewhere, holed up in some isolated cabin that had a garden full of food or in an abandoned apartment building that she could scavenge. Carol kept reassuring him that she was alive and ok but each day that passed without him finding Y/N, he believed his friend less and less. Even the blanket they had discovered was quickly losing her scent.

He wanted to get back out there, to keep searching but he was just so tired.

“Daryl!” Rick called over the din. His voice while strained from exhaustion still carried the power of a true alpha. The younger man ignored him though as he continued to watch the slowly dying fire from atop the truck, his hands supporting his weight as he leaned back against them.

Vaguely, he could feel frustration leaking through the bond. “Y/N's here!” That snapped him out of it.

“Wha?” But before Rick could repeat himself, Daryl had jumped down, landing heavily on his already sore legs. “She's?”

His brother nodded. “With Carl but she's feral so we have to take it slow.”

“But she's-” Suddenly he felt like he couldn't speak, his guilt and relief wrapping around his throat in a tight grip.

“She's safe, the pup's safe.” Rick gestured to the infirmary and before he could think, Daryl took off running.

50 days. It had been 50 agonising, tortuous days of unknowing, of guilt and fear. Of imagining the hell which she experienced since the moment that the chain fences of the prison fell.

50 days of self-hate, of knowing he wasn't enough- not strong enough, not fast enough, not brave enough- to save her and the pup.

50 days of her haunting his every thought.

50 days.

And as he ran into the infirmary, all that time, all that fear disappeared the second he saw her again. The clock reset the moment he stepped over the threshold and her golden eyes locked with his blue ones.

He didn't care that she didn't recognise him, he didn't care that she snarled and planted her hands down around Carl's body as if he was a danger to the boy who was almost like his own.

She was alive, she was here. And that's all that mattered.

For the first time in 50 days, Daryl smiled.

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simpsonns · 6 months

Text

a/n: This is my first ever fanfic so bear with me. There is no content of this man so I wrote something because ahhhh

warning: this is not proof read (I’m dyslexic) and is probs terrible

summary: Readers saves Jim yay

It had already happened. It was too late to save Jim. He was the victor and he was about to claim his price. A part of him knew something was wrong, he could tell by the eagerness of officer rick, hand resting on his gun.

He looked down through the crowd of people dancing, all the happiness and love shared by the people that made the room warm and humid. Then he saw her, the girl who came to stop this stupid tradition. But the animalistic nature of teenage boys was too much for one girl to stop.

She had a-lot of rumors around. People said she went off the deep end after her only friend, the winner of last year’s run left town. Jim always admired her from a far, the beauty of the girl was something he had never witnessed before. It was like the universe had made him just for her. He never looked in her eyes until after he killed sawtooth jack, when he did, he saw someone who looked as though someone had just savagely murdered their best friend. And in a way he did.

After the crowd lifted him the air and the wave of adrenaline came down, he went to her as she wept over sawtooths body.

She explained everything.

He was going to die.

Jim walked through the crowd to the girl. Letting her magnetism pull him in. She walked to him, because in this universe she felt the same. Meeting in the middle of the dance floor they made a plan. To leave this stupid town.

He knew what needed to be done, but she was the one who had the heart to do it. They met at the crossing, a shotgun and pistol were loaded into the car and they simply drove away.

The sheriff wasn’t far behind, but they knew what they had to do to stop him. The car reached a screeching halt, one look was shared between the two. After Jim left the car and followed the sheriff to grave that had been dug dozens of times. She followed. And so did death.

One shot for the sheriff, and one for the farmer.

Once back on the road it was clear, even though they had stopped the cycle, all they had become was monsters themselves.

As they drove to freedom through the night there were no words shared just grief for the people they left behind, the people who didn’t get the treatment of a victor.

It was vowed that next year they would save Richie, to give him the same freedom they were yet to share.

#jim shepard x reader #dark harvest #jim shepard #jim sheperd #dark harvest fanfic #dark harvest movie #dark harvest 2023 #first fanfic

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topazy · 8 months

Text

Teen spirit

Pairing: Carl Grimes × reader, Maggie Greene × sister reader

Warnings: Swearing

Chapter: 5.01

“Did you guys hear that? It sounded like gunshots.”

“And real fucking close to,” Abraham says.

When footsteps approach Maggie and shove you behind her, you have already gotten hurt trying to fight the man who shoved you into the train car, resulting in half of your face throbbing. “Get to the back,” your sister orders, “now!”

When you remain frozen Rosita places her hand on your shoulders and pulls you back to stand with her. When the door to the container slides open, you fear it’s Gareth and his men coming back, but it’s hard to tell because of the darkness. When multiple people step inside, the door slides shut again, locking whoever is inside with the rest of your group.

After what feels like tense moments of silence pass, Glenn steps forward and asks, “Rick?”

“You’re here,” Rick breathes out. “You’re here.”

You come forward to see Rick with his arm around Carl, with Daryl and Michonne with them. Maggie motions to Rosita, Abraham, and Eugene when they step closer into the small crack of light shining into the train car. “They’re our friends; they helped save us.”

“Then they’re our friends too.” Daryl nods.

“Hope!” Carl pulls you in for a hug. “I thought... I thought... how did you get out?”

“Glenn saved me,” gulping down, you let go of him. You were so happy to be reunited with people you’d grown to consider family, but you had hoped your other sister Beth was with them. “How long do you think we have until they come back? These people are worse than walkers.”

Terminus was once run by a community of people who wanted to help survive the apocalypse; now it is run by savages who tricked survivors looking for refuge to come into their homes to rob and kill them. You didn’t even want to imagine what they did with the bodies of the people they killed.

Rick's eyes darken; he reminds you of a feral animal about to pounce. “They’re going to feel pretty stupid when they find out.”

Abraham studies Rick’s movements, and you'll learn the former Sergeant was suspicious of everyone; it’s probably how he survived so long. He tilts his head upright and asks, “Find out what?”

“They’re screwing with the wrong people.”

—

“It was a black car with a white cross painted on it. I tried to follow it. I-tried.” Daryl’s voice cracks a little when he talks about Beth being taken.

“Least we know she is alive.”

Knowing Beth was still breathing gave you faith that you’d be able to find her again once you'd escaped from the hellhole you were currently in. You do your best to sharpen a piece of wood into a makeshift shiv as the chattering from outside gets closer; you all know those assholes are coming back. Finally, a voice shouts through the door, “Put your backs to the wall on either side of the car now.”

You all crowd around the door, ready to bounce on whoever opens it. Rick had already instructed you to go for their eyes first, then their throats. Suddenly the roof of the car opens up and a smoke grenade is thrown down, filling the car up so none of you can see. The door opens, and seconds later you let out a scream as someone grabs you, but strong arms wrap around you from the other side and toss you back. Moments later, the door shuts again.

While the smoke clears, you struggle to breathe. You manage to drag yourself to the back of the car, sit upright, and take long, deep breaths, breathing through your nose. It has been years since you needed to use an inhaler since you suffered from childhood asthma, but the familiar tightening in your chest reminded you of the times you desperately needed it. Maggie kneels in front of you, cupping your face. She asks, “Are you okay? Can you breathe?”

You give her a thumbs up.

“You need to be strong for me; we need to be ready to fight with the others to get through this. Can you do that for me?”

You nod. “I think so.”

When the rest of the smoke clears, you look around the car, trying to figure out who's been taken. Rick, Glenn, Daryl, and Bob were gone.

—

You’re unsure of how much time passed by when a loud explosion went off somewhere close, causing panic within the car. To you, it felt like wasted energy because unless someone came and opened the door, you weren’t getting out, so you remained seated on the ground with your back to the wall while Abraham continued to punch at the door.

“Hey,” Carl says, gaining everyone’s attention. “My dads are going to be back, they all are.”

“They are,” you say in agreement.

Your notice Maggie was looking at the pocket watch your father gave Glenn and instantly felt tears starting to gather. You missed your father so much; he was a good man and deserved so much better.

Hearing a woman’s screams followed by gunfire, you press your belly to the ground and look through a crack on the bottom floor of the train car to see what’s going on outside. “Oh shit.”

“What is it?”

“You guys might want to pass on making so much noise; we’re surrounded by the dead.”

Abraham abruptly stops banging on the door and steps back away from it.

“Let me see.” You move to the side so Sasha can look. “What do you think happened?”

“I think the loud noise brought the dead here. It will give our people time to escape.”

The inside of the train car falls into silence as you all try to listen in on what’s happening on the outside. Until Sasha lets out a frustrated sigh, “What’s the cure, Eugene?”

“It’s classified.”

“We don’t know what’s going to happen. We don’t know what’s coming next.”

“Even if I told you all, even if I provided step-by-step instructions complete with illustrations and a well-composed FAQ and I went red-ring, the cure would still die with me.”

Seeing how nervous he was getting, you offered Eugene a smile and said, “We won’t let that happen. We are all getting out of here.”

“In the best-case scenario, we step out into a hellstorm of bullets, fire, and walkers. I’m not fleet on foot. I sure as hell can’t take a dead one down with sharp buttons and hella confidence.”

“Yeah, but we can and we will,” Michonne says calmly.

Carl gives you a knowing look as things become slightly awkward as Sasha urges Eugene to tell everyone the cure while Rosita says he doesn’t need to. It’s clear that he’s conflicted, standing Eugene puffs out his cheeks. “I was part of a ten-person team at the human genome project to weaponize diseases to fight weaponized diseases. Pathogenic microorganisms with pathogenic microorganisms. Fire with fire. Interdepartmental drinks were had, relationships were made, and information was shared. I am keenly aware of all the details behind fail-safe delivery systems that kill every living person on this planet. I believe that with a little tweaking in the terminal in DC, we can flip the script. Take out every dead lady. Fire with fire.” He pauses for a moment before a smile spreads across his face. “All things being equal, it does sound pretty badass.”

The door is suddenly shoved open by Rick. “Come on! Fight to the fence!”

You use the shiv to slice any walkers that get too close to your throats while trying to keep up with the others. Your shortness of breath from before was taking its toll.

“Over here,” Rosita grabs your hand, pulling you behind her towards a fence before helping you climb over it.

Once on the other side, you do your best to help the others climb over the fence without cutting themselves on it, but while doing so, you begin to feel dizzy. When Carl climbs over, he notices and takes over so you can try and catch your breath. You do your breathing exercises, and luckily they work, and the dizziness ceases.

Daryl pats you on the back. “Are you okay, kid?”

You nod weakly, “Yeah.”

He waits a moment before leading the way into the woods to find the weapons he and Rick stashed before going into Terminus. When they find the spot, Rick begins to dig. “Go along the fences; use the rifles. Take out the rest of them.”

“What?”

“They don’t get to live.”

Surprised by his idea to go back, Glenn says, “Rick, we got it; it’s over.”

“It ain’t over until they are all dead.”

The building was on fire and swarming with the dead; it was very unlikely anyone would have survived, and if they did, they would be running away. You flinch, feeling a hand touching your face, but it’s only Carl. “It looks so much worse in the daylight. What happened?”

“When I was thrown into the car, I landed on my back. I managed to kick one of the men in the balls, then he punched me in the face, hence the black eye.”

All of a sudden, Daryl takes off running. At first, you can’t see where he’s running, expecting the worst. You grip the wooden shiv, but loosen your grip when you notice he’s hugging Carl. She’s alive. Carol briefly talks to Rick before saying she needs you all to follow her.

She leads the way to a small hut that Tyreese was standing outside, holding Judith. Both Rick and Carl sprint towards her, breaking down in tears. It filled your heart with warmth to see them reunite with her.

After all the heartache, it was great to see something good happen.

#the walking dead #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x you #teen spirit #Carl Grimes #carl grimes fanfiction #Carl Grimes/you #Carl Grimes/reader #Carl Grimes fanfic #Maggie Greene x sister reader #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead fandom #the walking dead fanfic

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kaynjack · 1 month

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SANDY HOOK: ORDER OF EVENTS

From the morning of the shooting until his suicide. All timings are in EST. Not accurate, I wasn't there. "???" means I'm not sure where they come on the timeline.

BEFORE 0930: At their home on 36 Yogananda Street, Lanza shoots his mother (Nancy) in the head four times with a .22-caliber Savage mark II rifle, killing her in her bed while she's still in her pyjamas. He leaves the rifle near the bed. He takes drives a black 2010 Honda Civic (Connecticut registration 872YEO, bought for him by his mother) to Sandy Hook Elementary.

AFTER 0935: Lanza arrives with his mother's Bushmaster XM15-E2S semi-automatic rifle, a Glock 10mm semi-automatic pistol and a Sig Sauer P226 9mm semi-automatic pistol. He leaves an Izhmash Saiga-12, 12 guage semi-automatic shotgun in the car. He shoots through the glass panels of the locked entrance doors. Shots are heard on the school's intercom.

Several faculty members were in a meeting when the shooting began. They heard gunshots but were unsure of what it was. Principal Dawn Hochsprung, the school psychologist Mary Sherlach and the lead teacher Natalia Hammond go out into the hall to investigate the sound and see Lanza.

They yell, "Shooter! Stay put!", the janitor Rick Thorne yells, "Put the gun down!"

Lanza kills Hochsprung and Sherlach. Hammond is shot in the leg, and then again. She lies still until Lanza leaves. She crawls back into the conference room and uses her body to keep the door closed.

Lanza yells, "Put your hands up!". Someone yells, "Don't shoot!" Gunshots, screaming and yelling can be heard over the intercom.

A substitute kindergarten teacher closes a door down the hallway, and gets hit in the foot with a bullet that ricocheted.

Lanza enters the main office. He stands in the room for a few seconds, but then turns around and goes back into the hallway. Another janitor, Rick Thorne, runs through the hallways to alert people.

First-grade teacher Kaitlin Roig hides 15 students in the bathroom. She barricades the door and tells them to be silent. Black construction paper was still covering the window in the classroom door from a previous lockdown drill. Lanza does not try to enter the classroom.

Lanza enters Room 8, a first-grade classroom, while the substitue teacher Lauren Rousseau was trying to hide students in the bathroom. He kills Rousseau, as well as Rachel D'Avino (a behavioural therapists for special needs students) and 15 of her students (one who died in the hospital), most of them crowded in the corner of the bathroom. Only one student survives by playing dead, a 6-year-old girl.

A boy screams, "Help me! I don't want to be here!" Adam responds with "Well, you're here." More gunshots.

Lanza goes into Room 10, another first-grade classroom. Two things could've happened: 1) Teacher Victoria Leigh Soto hides some students in the closet or bathroom, while other students hide under desks. As Soto goes to lock it, Lanza enters. As he walks to the back of the classroom, he sees the children under the desks and shoots them. Student Jesse Lewis yells at his peers to run and some listen. Lewis looks at Lanza as he is shot dead. 2) Soto moves the children to the back of the classroom as they sit on the floor. Lanza stares at them and points his gun at a boy but does not fire. The boy runs out of the classroom.

Soto tells Lanza that the children are in the auditorium. Some children come out of their hiding spots and try to escape, and are killed. Soto puts herself between Lanza and the students, and is killed. Anne Marie Murpy (special education teacher for Soto) covers 6-year-old Dylan Hockley. They are both killed. In total, 5 of Soto's students were killed (one pronounced dead at the hospital). 9 students escape. 6 escape either while his weapon jammed or while he was reloading and hide at a nearby home with a school bus driver. 2 of them were found hiding in the bathroom.

???: Library staff Yvonne Cech and Mary Ann Jacob try to hide 18 students in a part of the library used for lockdown practice drills. One door won't lock, so the children crawl into the storage room. Cech barricades the door with a filing cabinet.

???: Music teacher Maryrose Kristopic barricades fourth-graders in a small supply closet. Lanza bangs on the door, "Let me in." ???: Two third-graders, chosen classroom helpers, were going to the office to deliver the morning attendance sheet. A teacher, Abbey Clements, gets them into her classroom.

A reading specialist, Laura Feinstein, gets 2 students from outside her classroom. They hide under the desks. Feinstein attempts to call 911, but her cell phone has no reception. 5 bullets are shot at three cars parked outside from classroom 10.

9:40:03AM: Lanza shoots himself in the lower rear portion of his head with the Glock 20SF in classroom 10. The Glock was found near him, jammed. The rifle was several feet away. The SIG Sauer had not been fired and was still on him.

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buckybarnesb-tch · 1 year

Text

Klaus Mikaelson Playlist

Sexy Time

I have been asked by multiple people after a previous post about Klaus Mikaelson and the song Wasp by Motionless in White to post a full playlist of songs to fuck Klaus to and I have finally gotten to posting it (I forgot🤣)

This is not necessarily all one playlist, it’s a mix of my fav songs that I want Klaus Mikaelson to Fuck me to. It has metal, pop and some country, you shouldn’t make this a playlist and press shuffle, it may cause some confusion at…ahem…inappropriate times.

Starting with my top favs

Necessary Evil- Motionless in White

Wasp- Motionless in White

Werewolf- Motionless in White

Fuck Away the Pain- Divide the Day

Sexy Drug- Falling in Reverse

Like You Never Had It- Florida Georgia Line

Love Bites- Ice Nine Kills

Would You Love a Monster Man- Lordi

Angel Eyes- New Years Day

Animals- Nickelback

Monster- Reckless Love

The rest of my list which I will hopefully add more songs to later

Undead Ahead- Motionless in White

Brand New Numb- Motionless in White

Contemptress- Motionless in White

Hate fuck- Motionless in White

Synthetic Love- Motionless in White

Eternally Yours- Motionless in White

Porn Star Dancing- My Darkest Days

Not the American Average- Asking Alexandria

Evil Angel- Breaking Benjamin

Waking the Demon- Bullet for my Valentine

Venom- Eminem

I’m Not a Vampire- Falling in Reverse

Bad Girls Club- Falling in Reverse

Good Girls Bad Guys- Falling in Reverse

Talk You Out of It- Florida Georgia Line

Take it Out on Me- Florida Georgia Line

Sarcasm- Get Scared

Blank Space (Cover)- I Prevail

Bloodbath and Beyond- Ice Nine Kills

SAVAGES- Ice Nine Kills

Stabbing in the Dark- Ice Nine Kills

Whore- In this Moment

Blood- In this Moment

Sex Metal Barbie- In this Moment

Bang Bang- Jesse J

Love the Way You Hate Me- Like a Storm

I Wanna Be Your Slave- Måneskin

Beggin’- Måneskin

Kill or be Killed- New Years Day

Something in Your Mouth- Nickelback

Burn it to the Ground- Nickelback

Hell Above- Pierce the Veil

rockstar- Post Malone

Death by Rock and Roll- The Pretty Reckless

Going to Hell- The Pretty Reckless

Body Like a Backroad- Sam Hunt

Killer in the Mirror- Set it Off

Riot- Three Days Grace

Animal I Have Become- Three Days Grace

Boss Bitch- Doja Cat

Purple Lamborghini- Rick Ross

Sucker for Pain- Lil Wayne

Wreak Havoc- Skylar Grey

Gangsta- Kehlani

You Don’t Own Me- Grace

I Wanna Be Sedated- Ramones

I’m Gonna Show You Crazy- Bebe Rexha

You Call Me a Bitch Like It’s a Bad Thing- Halestorm

Closer (cover)- Asking Alexandria

Take It From Me- Jordan Davis

Miss Murder- AFI

If you have any songs that aren’t on my list that you feel strongly about, comment and let me know. I’ll absolutely listen to them and maybe even add them to the list.

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richonnesbitch · 1 month

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Haven’t kept up with the show after Rick ‘died’ but it always pissed me off that they had Carl vouch for Negan. Like Glen was so loved and saved Rick; he gave Carl his father back! and all three (Carl, Rick, and Michonne) understood the necessity of HARD choices very clearly. And the love of their family. Yeah, yeah the value of ‘forgiveness’ and all but this? Glen was brutally killed in the most undignified and savage way and then they didn’t even grant the audience the catharsis of watching that evil man get his. The only redemption for him should have been the justice of his death. The writers really got it so wrong with this. Especially because the poor writing choice of having the Grimes family give Negan the mercy of keeping his life is just so out of character that it makes them look like hypocrites (don’t get me wrong I love them!) because you damn well know that if it had been any of them who had been murdered by bat to the head they would not hesitate in the absolute surety that killing him is the only choice. Also ain’t Negan a r*pist?! This the guy the writers are so invested in? 😭

You're so so so right 😭😭 Negan still being alive just makes EVERYONE out of character and look like hypocrites. Like, his ass should really be dead. Imagine how Glenn and Abaraham fans feel? Or like anyone with a brain really.... there should have been no redemption for that nasty man. He should have died.

I really don't know why they ride so hard for him. Personally to me, I don't think JDM is a strong actor so it makes all the goofy ass shit Negan says even GOOFIER. And on top of that, Negan just isn't a good character. Like. What do you mean you want me to feel sorry for him because he cheated on his DYING wife and neglected their marriage?? Like how does that make him relatable or likeable??? Please tell me! Lmao. In my opinion, Negan tanked the entire show. You would have thought they wanted to get rid of him as soon as possible but no apparently not. To me, it's the worst choice they could have ever made in the show. Him being alive does nothing for anyone.

Glenn fans got done dirty, Abraham fans got done dirty, and poor Maggie fans are suffering the most for it now. Grimes Family for sure 1000% would have killed him if any one of them had died!!!

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the-unspeakable-tsar · 2 months

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Kidnapping The Grunk

In 2018, I was 17. I wrote a Gravity Falls/Rick and Morty crossover fic called "Kiddnapping The Grunk". I'm 23 now, and I was looking at my ao3 account, and I saw it. So, I decided to rewrite the fic. The original person who wanted me to write the fic no longer exists on Tumblr. But here's the new version in its entirety.

Stan’s eyes opened up into complete darkness. He started to move but found his limbs stiff and wrapped in something. He was stuck and started thrashing around. He’d gotten it into his head that he was twisted up in his bedsheets again and started screaming.

“Oh god! Soos! Get the jaws of life! Get some snips or somethin’! I’m stuck!” he shouted.

“Nobody’s gonna help you out here, ole man,” said a strange voice from the dark.

“Who’s that?” said Stan. His tone was not so much panicked but annoyed. “Robbie Valentino, this better not be some stupid prank. I’m not playing around with you and Wendy’s games anymore!”

A new voice chimed in, making robotic tutting, “Nah, you don’t get it do ya?” We’re holding your ass for ransom.”

“Ransom?” said Stan. He considered the thought for a moment. “If you cut me in on this, I can get my brother to fork over some more cash. I know he’s good for it.”

“Shut the fuck up!” shouted the first voice. “If your scrawny boy toy doesn��t deliver the Smidgens we want, we’re going to slit your Cromdamned throat!”

“Boy toy? What the heck are you talking about?” he asked and received a smack across the face for it.

Everyone who surrounded him began to laugh as Stan’s head spun.

“Don’t play dumb,” he said. “You were rolling heavy with Rick Sanchez in this part of the galaxy for ten years. Suppose your spastic lust pet doesn’t show up; we’re going to cut your head off and bury you somewhere like a vampire.”

“Who?” asked Stan.

---

A large green portal opened up into a land covered in prone grease grease-slicked grandmothers. Two aged scientists stepped out and into the town. The residents of the town looked at them with fascination. Stanford Pines looked down at his tracker pad, which pinged with a map of this area and the little tracker.

“I cannot believe that my brother has gotten wrapped up in your nonsense, Sanchez,” he said.

“Better believe it,” said Rick Sanchez, punctuating his brief statement with a burp.

“You’re lucky I didn’t kill you myself. What are they? Flansians? Predators? The Tall Whites?” asked Stanford, rapidly firing his questions at Rick.

“Beats the hell out of me,” said Rick. “If they’re after me through, Stan I’ll take care of them. Don’t worry your prissy little head about it.”

Rick reached over and started tussling Stanford’s hair drunkenly, only for Ford to take his hand away. “None of that!”

“You can’t still be angry because I didn’t call you after our night of passion in the Hamburger Fields,” he said. Dismissing him.

“I can be, and I am!” he shouted.

“Oh blah, blah, blah! BLIGHITY BLAH!” shouted Rick. “Stan’s a better man than you anyways. He knows how to make a man feel appreciated. Y’know?”

Rick then feigned ecstatic moans, “Ohh Stanley, yeah, yeah, yeah, right therreee!”

“That’s lewd,” growled Stanford. His face flushed a deep red.

“You would know,” said Rick. “I recall you getting very into me sucking on your fingers.”

“Nope,” Stanford walked forward. Stomping as he went. “Not listening. Just help me find my brother.”

Rick made a dismissive noise. “Bleh…fine….So, does he ever talk about me?”

“Hmm?” began Stanford. “No, never.”

“C’mon, i’m being serious right now. He must, right?’ asked Rick.

“Nope. Up until we got the note, I didn’t even know you two were acquainted,” said Stanford.

“What? We spent nearly a decade together, fucking and savaging around the country,” said Rick. “He must remember me.”

“Well,” said Ford apprehensively. “There’s a chance that he genuinely doesn’t remember.”

“Oh god, has he been hit with Alzheimer's?” said Rick, feeling his age.

“The truth is more…odd,” Said Ford. “Do you remember when i talked about Weirdmageddon?”

“Dumb name, yes.”

“Ignoring that…To destroy Bill, Stanley allowed him to invade his mind…Then we erased it,” said Ford.

“You sick son of a bitch!” growled Rick.

“Oh, grow the hell up, Sanchez. I heard about how you regularly erase your grandson’s memories over minor mistakes on your end,” said Ford.

“How did you hear about that?” asked Rick.

“Summer and Wendy are friends on Tumblr,” said Ford.

“Goddamn, Summer,” whispered Rick under his breath. But then Rick smiled, “Hot Damn, Fordy baby, you’ve just given me a chance at this bullshit thing called love!”

Rick pushed Ford over, and the old man fell on his ass. They opened up a portal that entered them into a dimension filled with bright blue slime bags, and they bounced off of them, weaving between each other as they fell. Rick blessed another portal into the wall of the dimension and it led into the back room of a bar.

Surrounding Stan’s tied-up form were impossibly tall robots and short dwarven aliens with big fly eyes. They all pulled their guns and started firing at the pair. They ducked behind pillars and exchanged looks. Ford looked ready to kill Rick.

“ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND!” he shouted.

“Relax,” Rick stepped in front of the scene.

His body was quickly riddled with plasma fire. The bolts of liquid energy passed through his scrawny form like butter, but he kept stepping forward. The aliens screamed at him in their native tongues—horrid insect chirping. Rick’s left arm unfolded, forming a kind of gun made of green semi-metal and flesh. The flesh gun sprayed the aliens with a horrible mist that caused their skin to erupt in horrible sizzling boils and caused the metal skin of the robots to erode rapidly.

“Come to me, everybody!” he shouted. “Look at me go! Your gods might not be real, but I’m sending you to him all the same!”

Ford stood behind the pillar, picking off stragglers with his pistol and resenting every word that fell out of Rick Sanchez’ stupid head. He didn’t have to do all of this. They could have just killed them; they didn’t have to cook alive inside their bodies.

Once this mad violence was over, Stanford dashed over to Stanley and tore the bag off his head; his brother winced at the light.

“It’s okay, Stanley, you’re going to be alright,” said Ford as he began to undo the binds.

Rick turned and flashed Stanley a look. He thought it was sexy, with is hip cocked to the side and the bulge in his pants prominently displayed.

“Hey, hot stuff,” said Rick. “I’m Rick Sanchez, and I’m the rescue committee.”

“Yeah,” said Stan. “I know who you are.”

Suddenly, Rick froze. Shit, he remembers all the scumbag shit I did.

Once up, Stan strode across the room and pushed Rick up against the wall, forcing his tongue into his mouth and dry-humping him against the wall. Ford stood by, irritated that it built up to this. He turned his head so he didn’t have to see the image of the two.

“You scrawny son of a bitch,” said Stan. “You made me remember that I missed you.”

#fanfiction #stanchez #stan pines #stanford pines #rick sanchez #rick and morty #pocket mortys #post gravity falls #spanish pines

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littlegodzilla · 2 years

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Hi there!! I had an idea for a request which is more of a drabble or maybe just a small thought for you to make into something that you love maybe? Based after the saviours and at Sanctuary when Daryl goes to lead them and reader goes with him to help but ends up helping Daryl push through some ptsd (or something like that).

Hi Anon!!

Sorry for taking me too long but I really wanted to write your request I liked it and I never wrote something like that before and I wanted to try.

I hope you'll like it!

And sorry for the waiting again!!

****

Easy Street.

Daryl Dixon x Reader.

One shot.

Anon Request.

Warnings: Fighting. PTSD. Hurt/Comfort.

Post Negan. Santuary.

Words: 2300.

Taglist: @phoenixblack89 @browneyes528 @lilythemadqueen @twdeadfanfic @darylsgarden @green-eyedladywrites @srhxpci @xxtinasxxblog @hail-yourselves

≈≈≈≈

"Rick, I don't think this is doing Daryl any good." You say to your leader one day when you return to Alexandria.

The war with Negan is finally over, the man has been defeated, reduced in a cell where he will never see the light of day again until Rick really decides what to do with him, because Carl didn't want him to kill him and Rick was fulfilling his son's wishes. No one shared his decision, you had all lost too much to that sadistic and savage man, but Rick had always led you well and you decided to trust him once again.

However the idea of putting Daryl in charge of the Sanctuary you think is too much. He clearly hasn't gotten over everything that happened to him in there and he doesn't share it, not with you, but not with Carol either you know that with her he's always had much more trust for everything, but he seems broken, a little old toy that can't find his place and you hate to see him like that. That's why you decided to go with him all the way to the Sanctuary to help him put that whole place back in its place, you know he can do it, he's not an idiot, but you don't want anything bad to happen to him.

"Has Daryl said anything to you?"

"No, you know how he is, he never says anything, but that place is obviously not good for him."

"I need him there, he's the person I trust the most, I know he'll get through his demons and help those people." Rick assures you before continuing on with his own tasks.

You don't doubt that Daryl will get over it one day, because he's strong, because he always has been, you've fought through worse, you've come out of it all, but Daryl is fighting this all by himself, he's not letting anyone help him and that worries you.

Leaving Rick in Alexandria you return with a pickup truck full of supplies and crops to try to get something to grow there, it's frustrating; the factory ground is so coarse and hard that nothing grows there, you're barely lucky that the corn gets big enough to be able to make oil for the vehicles' engines with it and keep some electronics running, but the rest dies before it grows enough.

You sigh parking the van in the huge factory yard, there where they used to keep the Walkers tied up and torture their prisoners, now you have placed the corn crops among other things, it is the largest space with sunshine and easy access to water. You get out of the car greeting some of the Saviors who approach you.

Not everyone makes things easy, not everyone has accepted that their leader has been imprisoned, some are still loyal to Negan, maybe that's also what has Daryl in tension, but many others have accepted the new situation, they want to stay alive, they accept being in the Sanctuary as punishment, they are hungry but follow Rick and Daryl's orders, some collaborate more and strive for things to be well and easy for everyone.

Laura is one of them, Negan's right hand, feisty and acid tongue, at first she was not in a position to help anyone, but now you even think you have become friends. You don't trust each other blindly, but you don't consider her a threat. You are starting to unload everything with the help of a few people when you hear shouting inside the factory. Instinctively you put yourself on guard holding the gun you carry in the waistband of your pants, Laura comes out of the building in a hurry and when she sees you she seems to look relieved.

That doesn't help you.

"You've finally arrived, Daryl's gone crazy!" She says when she reaches you.

"What, what happened?"

"I don't know, he suddenly turned and started hitting one of the guys. No one was able to separate them."

"Fuck, Daryl..."

You run with the others inside the building, as the blonde has told you, there is a group running around and in the middle is Daryl holding someone under his body without stopping hitting, over and over again, grunting and panting like a wild animal.

This was what you feared the most.

"Daryl, stop it!" You run to him and pull hard on his body.

You know you don't have the strength to move him, Daryl is all muscle and nerve right now, using his whole body to deliver harder punches, you stagger, but you try again, screaming in frustration and punch him in the back.

"Daryl, I said enough!" you yell once more pulling at his arm as he tries to puch him again.

In the struggle you take the blow, you don't even realize it, now that you've managed to pin him down others help you get him off of him. Daryl fights like a wounded and cornered animal, you get him to look at you and then you slap him hard. Everything suddenly goes silent, you can only hear your agitated breaths. You can see that Daryl is struggling to come to his senses, but at the same time the anger is still overpowering him.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Daryl!"

"He was singing!" he shouts and you raise your eyebrows in surprise. "He was singing that fucking song!" He's hysterical and you don't understand a thing.

"What are you talking about!"

"Fuck ya!" he yells at you and shoves you quickly walking away.

Your eye hurts like hell, you never thought someone could hit you that hard and he wasn't even aiming. Clearly that man has the strength of a truck. You sigh as you walk through the huge factory halls doing your surveillance rounds. After the little stunt that morning people are a bit shocked and upset, you understand them but at the same time you know that Daryl must have a good excuse to have done something like that, you don't know exactly which one, but you trust him. You are about to turn around in the wide pavilion when you hear noise above one of the catwalks, you look up and discover Daryl looming there, your heart starts pounding violently.

"Daryl, wait!" You call out to him running towards the catwalk stairs and climb up until you reach him.

"What? what's with that face? Y'think I was gonna throw myself off?" There's irony in his voice but there's anger too. You sigh and shrug.

"I don't know... Would you?"

"Nah, I haven't gone through all this shit to kill myself now, besides... I wouldn't die, I'd turn into one of those things... I'd take out some of those motherfuckers..."

"That wouldn't be fair... because I'd have to stop you... and I'd be unable to kill you..." You whisper looking at him out of the corner of your eye, you see him relax too, he chews his lip and grunts nodding his head.

You smile too, you feel he's back to his usual Daryl self, at least in that instant, you missed him. Then you see him frown, he moves closer to you and holds your chin turning your face a little. You know what he's looking at and you swallow hard.

"What happened to ya?" He is clearly unaware of when he hit you. You shake your head and hold his hand.

"It's nothing, this morning I took a hit helping Rick, nothing more." You smile because you don't want him to feel like it's his fault. It was just a mistake.

Daryl hums low letting go of you to lean on the railing of the catwalk again, you watch him closely, there is something inside him that is fighting to want to get out, but he holds it back with all his might. You reach over and rest a hand on his back, you feel him tense under your touch.

"Daryl, what happened this afternoon?" You ask him softly.

"What happened? Ya wanna know what happened?" he hisses angrily, clenching his fists on the metal bar.

"Please, you can talk to me about anything you need to. I'm here..."

"It happens to me that I shouldn't be here!" he explodes and almost scares you. "It happens to me that this shitty place should be reduced to ashes! It happens to me that these people should be dead because so many are still loyal to Negan! It happens to me that that son of a bitch should be dead!"

"Daryl..."

"No! He's taken everything from us! Food! Our home! He's killed our people!" he continues to yell loudly. "And Rick has left him alive!"

"Rick did what I thought he did..."

"No, don't tell me he did it 'cause it was the right thing to do... That we're here is the right thing to do too?"

"Rick trusts you, he knows you'll help these people, I'll help you..."

"Rick doesn't know shit! I don't care about these people!"

"Don't say that... Daryl, I know you, I know..."

"Ya dunno me!" He bursts out again and closes the distance between you. "Ya dunno shit about me!"

"That's not true, we've traveled together for a long time, Daryl I know what you're like."

"Y'know what I've wanted ya to know about me. just like everyone else! But ya dun know anything about me, NOTHING! I'm ain't a good person, never have been, we all play save our asses, that's all that matters."

"That's not..."

"What, that's not true? Yain't have a clue. I shouldn't be here, this place... everything that's happened here... Rick brought me here without asking me, ordering me around, because I'm the good guy, because I'm the one who always helps, the leader next to the leader. Bullshit! I didn't ask for any of this!"

"Daryl, calm down..."

"Or what? Yer afraid I'll hit ya again?" Daryl is breathing heavily through his nose, you can see his chest rise and fall rapidly. "Y'think I didn't know? I really thought ya'd tell me it was me hoping for an apology, but ya told me that shit." You don't know if he's more angry at you for lying to him or at himself.

"It was nothing, you didn't hit me on purpose." You shrug. "It doesn't hurt."

"It wasn't on purpose, so it's okay?"

"For God's sake, Daryl, stop it! What's really wrong with you!" You grab him by the shoulders to make him look at you.

"It's this damn place! It all reminds me of what I've been through here! And that guy this afternoon I was making my rounds and all of a sudden he started singing that damn song and I..." He falls silent and lowers his head.

There it is again, that song, you have no idea what he's talking about, but it's clear that something very strong has happened to him and that song, whatever it is, is the key to everything. You caress his cheek, you feel him struggle a little against you, but he still doesn't lift his head, it's evident that all the rage he had inside has vanished and he has lost all his strength.

"They played it over and over again... non-stop, every time they came to my cell, no matter the time, no matter the moment. It was always there... they tortured me, they treated me like a dog... they even gave me dog food, they kept my clothes, they made me look at Glenn's picture every day..."

He's speaking in whispers, but you hear it all, still holding him by the shoulders, his hair brushes your cheek and you feel his body tremble under your touch, it's almost imperceptibly, but you know what's happening to him.

"That guy started singing and suddenly I saw myself back in that cell, with nothing, eating dog food, letting Negan fuck me over, watching you all die and I..." His voice sounds broken and you feel tears fall down your cheeks.

You shush him and embrace him, pressing his head against your chest, stroking his hair as if he were a small child, Daryl hesitates for a second but his arms wrap around your body, his hands dig into your back and he presses you against him so hard you're afraid he'll break you, but you don't hesitate, you rock him in your arms letting him cry silently, his face hidden in your neck.

You don't say anything, you let him unburden himself, let him release everything he has been accumulating during all this time. It is clear that Rick has made a mistake taking Daryl there, that place is bad for the archer, it is poison for those wounds that have not yet finished healing completely. You feel that his grip is weaker now, surely recovering little by little, but still unable to face you, now it is shame that dominates him. He has shown himself to you vulnerable and hurt, it's too embarrassing and uncomfortable for him, you could never make fun of something like that, but some things about Daryl never change.

"I'm sorry..." You hear him say and he slowly breaks away. You smile pushing his hair away from his face. All the anger in his gaze is gone, the stormy sea that was his blue irises are now calm again. You shrug your shoulders shaking your head.

"Why?"

"I shouldn't have hit ya... I didn't mean to, it was..."

"An accident, Daryl, I told you, you have nothing to worry about."

"An accident I could have avoided..."

"Stop torturing yourself, please. If you had hit me on purpose, I would have kicked you in the balls and we'd be having a completely different conversation right now." You joke, you see him a smile falter on his mouth and snort through his nose.

"Of course..."

"We'll talk to Rick, okay? We'll figure something out, we'll get away from this place, you'll never have to come back..."

"It's not just that..."

"I know, but we'll figure it out, little by little." You smile and hold his hand tightly. "You're not alone, Daryl."

His gaze bores into you, intense, heavy, your body shudders because you've never felt the man examine you with such intensity. He nods and grunts low, giving his approval to your plan. Your smile widens further if possible and this time it is you who embraces him. The two of you stand there in silence, on the catwalk, the night inside the Sanctuary watching over you.

The End...

≈≈≈

I know you said a drabble but I couldn't stop writing I really liked the idea.

I hope it was what you expected!

See you in the next stories!!

#my stuff #norman reedus #normanreedus #daryl dixon #daryldixon #twd fanfiction #ask me #one shot #anon request #negan era #post negan #santuary #the saviors #hurt/comfort #ptsd #daryl x reader

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