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babiebom · 4 months

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How Many kids I think the Bachelor/ettes would (want to) have

A/N: because I like thinking about things~ also because I started thinking about it because I want a lot of kids and I wondered who I would actually work well with. Late Merry Christmas btw!!! And happy holidays!!

Tw:sex, maybe cursing idk I always put cursing, childbirth/children, mentions of issues with childbirth, mentions of postpartum depression, mentions of adoptions and other stuff surrounding it.

Wc: at least 5 bullet points for each

Sdv Masterlist

Sebastian

I think he would want either one kid only or as many as his partner wants

Because I can see him being a good dad to his kids

But like I also think that people like him only have one kid because they didn’t get along with their own siblings

So the trauma is like I don’t want to have to choose between my kids when they don’t get along and I don’t want any problems so having one is good

But I also thinks he would want to see how close siblings could be to live somewhat through them

So it’s literally a toss up

On the topic of adoption though he’d probably adopt an older kid if you’re okay with it

Like a teen that doesn’t have a family and is about to age out

I think he’s that type of person and you could adopt a baby or a younger kid later on.

I also think Robin would be present but not like constantly there. Like it’s grandmas for Christmas and other holidays and sometimes she visits but that’s it.

I do think that he would probably end up with a lot of kids bc he can’t keep it in his pants now that he has a significant other.

Sam

He’s going to have at least 3

I see him having 2 boys and a girl if I’m being honest and it would be really cute

All of them are learning to skateboard and something about music

I think he would be a very chaotic dad

Like you have a heart attack every couple of minutes being married to him

Like “yeah! Junior lost a tooth” “how’d he lose a tooth?” “He absolutely ate shit at the skatepark”

I think he would be happy to adopt but probably wouldn’t because of Jodi

I do headcanon Jodi as bit of judgemental

Like she won’t say anything outright but she will be passive aggressive like “I love allllll of my grandkids! Even (adopted child’s name)”

So if you guys do end up adopting for one reason or another you’ll only see Jodi for big holidays unless Sam can get her to change

Vincent is a sweet uncle though and Kent is a decent grandfather. Refuses to tell stories of the war to them though. Jodi is an overbearing but GREAT grandmother when she’s not being petty

Shane

Well he already has Jas so he either will have one more so she has a sibling/cousin

or he will have like 4 more to make the total 5

I do think he would like a big family

But all of the kids are a couple years apart at least because he does want to make sure they all are happy

It takes a while for you two to have kids or adopt because he does still have depression and thinks he would be a shitty father

But he’d be the best out of the bachelors I think maybe number two

Because I feel like out of all of them his love would be greater simply because he does have that self hate and he wants to make sure he’s doing as well as he can

Jas is VERY happy to be a big sister

Harvey

Harvey is a 2 kid guy

Like he would be a 1 kid guy but he’s afraid that the child would be lonely

I also think he would be an only child so he doesn’t want his kid to have the same childhood as him

But the kids would definitely have an age gap

Like at least 8 years because he wants to make sure you(if you’re a person who can give birth) are okay after giving birth.

I also think that if he adopts he would go for siblings specifically

Like two kids that don’t want to be separated by the system or two kids who are biologically related he would go for them

Simply because he wants two kids anyways and keeping people together is what would make him happy

Alex

Either 1 or 4 there’s no in between

I feel like you would have either all boys or all girls with him

Like his genes are very predictable not gonna lie

No matter what gender I think he would make all of them play gridball

Would be hella sad if none of the kids liked the sport bc COME ON

I do think that in his heart he would like to adopt

Especially if it’s to save a kid that’s in a bad family situation

Because in a way his grandparents adopted him after his father left and his mother died

Like those are his parents for lack of actual mom and dad

Very sweet dad but does have sexist tendencies

Like if you have daughters he would be much more strict with them but also would spoil them rotten

And while he’s not as strict with the boys he’s also not as sweet on them.

You have to get him to open up and realize that raising the kids in a specific way can breed resentment towards him. He gets smarter the more kids you have.

Elliott

I think Elliott would want one or two

I don’t know why but I see him as a guy that doesn’t have a lot of kids

Mostly because I feel like he would still like to have time with his partner and having a lot of kids would take away from that unless you can get a sitter or something

But I also feel like he wouldn’t want daycare or a babysitter or nanny

He wants to raise the kids together especially because you both work from home

Also having more than I think 3 for him would make it so he has no time to work on writing

And having only a couple would mean he can evenly give enough attention to the kids.

While for some people having a lot of kids is not a problem with attention and love I think Elliot knows that he’s the type of person that cannot be spread too thin.

Which isn’t a bad thing.

If you’re same sex he is not opposed to adoption

Would like to adopt twins though

Would prefer boy girl twins but obviously won’t throw a fit if it doesn’t work out that way

You’re adopting kids not a dog.

Penny

Easily at least 6

I don’t think she would have the most easy pregnancies

But she will make it look as if she’s the perfect housewife and that bearing children is a breeze for her

She loves kids and wants a big happy family especially because of her upbringing

So if you marry her expect her to want to have kids that are all at least a year apart in age

Doesn’t mind getting pregnant again as soon as you’re cleared for sex

I do think she would prefer to bear children instead of adopt but she’s not opposed to it

I could also see her becoming a foster mother at some point and taking in a bunch of children because she has an empty nest

If you’re the same sex she would probably want ivf

Like obviously this isn’t meant to be offensive and some people have different takes

But she also won’t like be upset that you have to adopt and she would make sure to adopt a BUNCH of children

Is a good mother and tries hard to spread her attention evenly.

You having a farm is great for this type of situation not gonna lie

Leah

To be VERY honest I see Leah as the kind of woman to be a single mom

Not because she gets divorced or her partner dies

It’s literally by choice only her and her kid in their cabin painting.

BUT OBVIOUSLY in this scenario she’s married to you

She would still only have 1 or 2 kids

I don’t think she would really enjoy being pregnant

Like she would like doing the pregnancy art things

But the state of being that she’s in is HORRIBLE she HATES IT

But she loves her kid so much that she’s like okay I can do it one more time.

Maru

Maru is either a one person kid or a 5 person kid tbh

And I do think that science people be lowkey freaky

So I do think she would have a lot of kids

Like somehow she’s always pregnant and everyone is like ?????? Another kid?????

And shes like YEAH I KNOW ISNT THE HUMAN BODY AMAZING????

Y’all’s kids are super smart ngl

Like you’re like???????wtf

Like even if you end up adopting they’re super smart and you’re like ????????? WTF HOW

Though they are still very interested in farming.

Somehow combines the two and creates a super farm

Like you make so much more money after having kids it’s insane.

Haley

Two or three kid woman

No matter how strong your genes are your kids will always have either blonde hair or blue eyes if not both.

Out of all the people having kids your kids with her would have the most normal names

She was a mean girl in high school she’s not setting up her kids for failure from the beginning

Unlike the others who would be on board with homeschooling if that’s what you wanted Haley wants the kids in public or private school.

Shes not much of a teacher and you’re always working on the farm so she wants them to have a good chance of being smart.

I think that y’all would have tons of baby books for the kids because she takes at least 10 pictures a day

Like there is no running out of embarrassing baby pictures your kids better behave lmao

Actually a good mom and ends up being one of those “I’m a cool mom right” women

But she’s actually kinda cool when she’s not making dated references.

Emily

One kid that is just as weird as she is

It doesn’t matter if the kid is adopted or not they behave just like her

But also I think she would go for adopting or fostering the more troubled children because they need love too

And I think she’s the perfect person to understand people on a different level than others.

A very sweet mother that is different than the other bachelor/ettes

Your kid turns out very happy, kind, and connected to the world

They might be a little weird like her

But are well liked by the people who find themselves misunderstood.

She would also be the type of person to run a foster home.

Abigail

I think Abby would like 2 kids.

I think she was very lonely as a kid

Especially with her father only focusing on his work and her mother hanging out with her but not really understanding her likes and hobbies

If she had a sibling there could be a chance that they won’t get along but she feels in her heart that they would’ve been close

So she would have two kids that are like maybe 2 years apart or 5 years apart

I don’t think she would enjoy being pregnant but she enjoys it more than she thought she would

Is not willing to go through giving birth again

So if you’re a person who could give birth if you want more than 2 kids then you’re giving birth

If you’re a person that can get others pregnant then you better plan for a surrogate or adoption because like I said she’s not going through that labor shit again

She is open to having more than 2 kids but like there’s other things that you have to do if you want them

Is a decent mom is kinda awkward with mothering but tries her best

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lucy-the-demon · 6 months

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The one thing i hate about the Stardew valley fandom is how a lot of people demonize mental health issues. Like, Being somebody with clinical depression, PTSD and autism it really upsets me when people are mean about Shane and Kent.

They treat Hailey like she's the perfect woman because she's mean then Treat Shane like the scum of the earth for being mean as well.

I have a caffine addiction, and while it's not as horrible as having an alcohol addiction it's still an addiction that im trying to overcome and i have depression as well. So seeing people treat Shane like that, plus calling him a liar when he's not 100% happy and sober all the time it really upsets me to see how he's treated, and i don't like him because I want to fix him, its just nice to see depression portrayed so realistically and to feel represented in media and i just want to be there for him. I can relate to him, and when people insult him and treat him like the bad guy for being mean and depressed and not 100% sober i feel like im doing something wrong and I'm a bad person for having depression and anxiety

And i have PTSD over very different things then kent, but I understand things that trigger memories to events, if I see the person who mistreated me in life or if somebody mentions middle school I get really upset and will go on a rant about it, when I get so upset I get angry im brought back to those horrible memories, and I understand why hes stressed over something that seems minimal to others And people are mean about him too, hes not a bad person he's just got PTSD and he doesn't know how to handle it. I feel bad for him when the community is mean to him over that cutscene.

and these are fictional characters it makes me scared how they would treat a real human being with similar issues, like me. I joke about if you hate these characters you should hate me too but like, it really pisses me off how this community treats mental illnesses And being somebody with these issues i really just want to spread awareness on how i personally feel when people say horrible things about these clearly mentally ill characters that have issues that real people have

Mental illness isn't black and white y'know, and if you think it is i think you might wanna get your eyes checked because you might just be completely colorblind, or blind in general. the actual mental toll it puts on real people to be represented by characters who's mental illnesses are portrayed very realistically only to be treated poorly by uneducated fans of the series/game/movie/ etc. It's very heartbreaking to me personally..

I just want fans of Stardew to be more mindful of characters like shane and Kent because there are real people like them that have the same issues as them. You don't have to like them just understand that real people have been through the same things they have and be respectful of that. i mean I don't like Harvey but I am respectful of people with anxiety, I have anxiety too. I think everyone does at this point.. but i would never undermine his anxiety or say he's a horrible person Because he's anxious that's a disgusting thing to imply and it should be the same way with characters like shane and Kent but it's not that way

The double standard with shane and hailey is an argument that may just involve sexism but that's an entirely different argument that i don't wanna get into rn, but just know, you don't necessarily have to be a nice person to be a good person, and vise versa.

Tldr: you guys need to stop saying Shane and kent are bad people for having mental illnesses, it's really gross and insulting to those with mental illnesses

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cultofdixon · 11 months

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Hard Exterior, Soft Interior

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • After the loss of Merle, he couldn’t lose you too. • ANGST/SFW • TW: Injuries / Scars / Anxiety / Depression

Requested by: Anon

You know those hard candies with the gooey interior? Can I think of an example?…uhh…bon bons? Tootsie pops have the soft interior…then there’s the gross lollipops with gum inside.

But anyway. The general idea of hard candies with soft insides.

That’s kind of like Daryl…and when I told him that. He of course thought it was a stupid concept.

I’ll always think that tho

Oh, you’re wasting my time

“Hey”

You’re just, just, just wasting time

“Hey Y/N?”

Something happens and I’m head over—- Y/N quickly removes the headphones to her walkman to finally acknowledge Dale’s existence. “Hey, sorry”

“Lost in your own little world huh?” Dale laughs as does she but a bit more embarrassment infused. “I need a favor”

“Oh Uhm. Dale I hear what comes from your RV at night and I’m not—-“

“OKAY” Dale yells laughing nervously. “Not the kind of favor I’m askin’…you know the new guy that came back?”

“Lori’s husband? Yeah he seems nice”

“Oh yeah he is. Just. Uhm.”

“Dale. Just spit it out” Y/N started to get annoyed.

Wait for the sign to flick the switch of death

“Merle!”

It’s the beginning of the end

“Merle come on out!” Daryl snaps returning from his hunt to this new guy with familiar faces getting up in his.

Sweat, chilling cold, as I watch death unfold Y/N watches Daryl get up in the faces of the others in the camp while having her headphones on. To avoid hearing Daryl’s enraged yelling. Consciousness, my only friend

“You left him?! ON A GODDAMN ROOF?” Daryl snaps at the sheriff standing before him.

My fingers grip with fear

What am I doing here?

Y/N suddenly lunged forward and her headphones slipped off her ears naturally as she grabs Daryl’s arm pulling him back after he got a punch in.

“Stop”

“They left him. They fucking LEFT HIM” Daryl yells feeling the anger continue to brew inside of himself. He was about to act on it once more until Y/N brought herself right in front of him pressing her hands firmly on his chest.

“Hurting him, will do nothing for you and won’t bring him back” Y/N states not moving from her spot until he relaxed.

“Who’s that?” Rick questions his best friend as Shane turns to who he was talking about.

“Y/N”

“Sister?”

“Fuck no. If she was, I wouldn’t have a hidden interest” Shane whispers the last part. “She’s one of the only few that’s close to the redneck.”

“Well I gotta thank her, or I’d be on the floor in a pool of my own blood…already was before this hell” Rick laughs slightly before pulling Shane with him to discuss the Merle situation.

We can go dancing, we can go walking

Daryl frowns holding the walkman in hand after Y/N has given it to him to listen to some of her cassettes to calm him down.

As long as we’re together (As long as we’re together)

Listen to some music, maybe just tal—- Daryl quickly removes the headphones when Y/N approached his little campsite away from the main one. “Hey…”

“Hey so, Rick has a plan to go back and get Merle. Wanted me to come get yea to see if you’ll join them”

A sense of relief washed over him the first time when Y/N pretty much stated she will stay at the campsite while they take care of rescuing his bitchass brother.

“Hey”

Daryl brought his attention back to her eyes full of worry. “Yeah?”

“If you do this. Go back to the city? Please be safe. Okay?” Y/N’s smile temporarily returned to grace her features as he mentally took a picture of such.

As long as she’s safe…

He will be

What do I do to ignore them behind me?

Do I follow my instincts blindly?

The scream rang through the forest and startled everyone in the campsite. Y/N immediately grabbed the bat that helped her from the city before Glenn saved her and went to help her newfound family.

Do I hide my pride from these bad dreams?

And give in to sad thoughts that are maddening?

The small Atlanta group returned from a failed mission and was met with sickos infesting. Daryl gripped his crossbow tightly and went in search for her.

Do I sit here and try to stand it?

Or do I try to catch them red-handed?

Y/N crushed the head of the walker that was tripped by the archer standing behind it. She sighs relieved that he’s safe and sound. While the sense of relief graced him a second time. Daryl gestures for her to remove her headphones which she did.

“You always fight better listening to music?”

“I do a lot of things better when listening to music” Y/N smiles looking at the damage taken to her bat and dropped it once she made the executive decision that it was unusable. “Guess I need a new one or something brand new”

“Yknow I could always teach yea to use one of these” Daryl smirks gesturing to his crossbow as his smirk fades slightly when she laughs a little.

“I’d love that, D”

And his smile planted itself on his face thankful this horror show was over with.

Now after said horror and coming to the decision, everyone who was alive started to pack up for the CDC and Y/N put her backpack in the passenger seat of Daryl’s truck while he got his bike situated in the bed of it.

“Got a cassette ready?”

“You know me so well” Y/N smirks holding up said cassette tape before putting her bag by the feet of the seat and climbing in.

Here we go to another candle I know

All the girls, they’re playing on a jelly roll

Time to take a ride, time to take it in a midnight eye

And if you wanna go, get on below

“Y/N…yea think we’ll find Merle?”

“Probably. Just one less hand.” Y/N smiles trying to hide her laugh when stating that, even if Daryl thought it was a bit funny as well. “He’s like a roach in this world. It’s gonna probably take a nuclear bomb to get him off the planet”

“I hope he turns up soon. Yknow? He’s the only family I’ve got”

“Hey!” She playfully acted offended as she took his unoccupied hand into hers. “We’re family”

Pinking out the day

Dreaming out the crazy way

Finger on the love

Their connected hands never parted once she took a hold of it.

It’s all above

The CDC felt like a luxury…no one deserved. Especially after all the lives that were lost because someone failed to inform about this virus. Or however the hell this could’ve been avoided.

Y/N suddenly felt stressed being in this glorified bunker as she mainly observed the others enjoy themselves. She only really felt better about the overwhelming emotions coursing through her when he would look at her. Even as drunk as he was.

Look at the stars, look how they shine for you

And everything you do

Yeah, they were all yellow

The archer offered the bottle to Y/N as she happily declined. She watches him hand the bottle over to Glenn as he took it for himself to get drunk for probably the first time in his life. Daryl then got situated right beside her turning to her reading what he could from her expression.

All she was, was tired. In that moment none of them had to fight or fear for their lives. Y/N wanted to remember this always. Being right beside him.

I came along, I wrote a song for you

And all the things you do

And it was called “Yellow”

________

The Dixons joined the campsite and did their part by hunting for the group. In return they got a group to watch their back and help with whatever may be asked. Even if they were stubborn enough to not accept the help offered.

Daryl returned from a quick hunt with a minor injury that he didn’t think much of. But after dropping off the catch, he didn’t think it would be noticed. The cut on his arm.

Then she came to their small camp set up holding her first-aid kit in one hand and her walkman in the other.

“Hey pretty lady”

Of course Merle was first to acknowledge her existence and make Daryl come out of his tent to try to prevent his brother from saying anything vulgar to who came. But hell. The pretty lady was indeed very pretty.

“Uhm. It’s Y/N…not whatever you said. Anyway” Y/N tossed the kit to Daryl as he fumbled a bit. “Thought you could use that”

“Don’t wanna stay?” Merle pouts as Daryl groans to his question before elbowing him to go away which he did with a groan.

Leaving the two alone for a moment.

“Thanks…I’ll uh. Give it back when I’m done”

“Okay. You’ll know where to find me” and that smile of hers struck him right in the heart.

________

So then I took my turn

Y/N laid comfortable in the bed made for her as she shared a room with Daryl. She laid on her side facing the archer who slept peacefully.

Oh, what a thing to have done

And it was all yellow…

In the middle of the night, Daryl woke out of anxious habit from when he was younger. He brought himself to turn toward the person he was sharing the room with to find her dangerously close to him.

Your skin, oh yeah, your skin and bones

Turn into something beautiful

He quietly lays back down after sitting up slightly, gently brushing the hair back out of the way of her face. Watching her face scrunch up a bit before finally relaxing and snuggling closer without touching him.

You know, you know I love you so

You know I love you so

As the next morning came around…and most were painfully hungover, Daryl found himself still laying down beside Y/N not wanting to move from his spot. Watching her be content, safe, alive and well…he didn’t want the moment to end. Didn’t want to feel like the world would end a second time if she were to leave it.

The second she stirred awake, part of him wanted to stay…tell her something that’s been on his mind since the day he met her…but instead. Daryl brought himself to sit up and sit on the edge of the makeshift bed giving the two a bit of space.

“Good morning” She yawns out the greeting listening to him reply with the same phrase as his voice was music to her tired ears. “How are you feeling?”

“Alright. Got a bit of a headache”

“Mm. You did drink a lot” Y/N laughs softly as she grabs her backpack taking out a small bottle of pain killers and handing it to him while he grabbed his canteen shortly after.

“Yea didn’t—-“

“I wanted to” Y/N smiles warmly as she pulls the blanket gently off of her and put her important belongings back in her backpack “You think someone is making breakfast? Or literally doing anything”

“Smelled somethin’ but don’t know what” Daryl handed her back the pain killers as she tossed the bottle carelessly into the bag before pulling out her earbuds that she could use to share her tunes with.

“Wanna just…sit and listen to music for a bit then? Before the world needs us?”

Daryl couldn’t and never would say no to that. He brought himself back to her side taking one earbud as she put hers in before getting her mixtape in.

Love of mine, someday you will die

And I’ll be close behind, I’ll follow you into the dark

No blinding light or tunnels to gates of white

The two instinctively laid down side by side, their hands barely touching.

Just our hands clasped so tight, waiting for the hint of a spark

Daryl’s pinky tapped Y/N’s hand a few times before hers locked with his.

If heaven and hell decide that they both are satisfied

Illuminate the “no”s on their vacancy signs

Y/N brought herself to turn to Daryl watching him do the same as they kept their attention on the other. They slowly inched toward the other when the sudden yelling caught their attention.

If there’s no one beside you when your soul embarks

Then I’ll follow you into the dark

The clock. The clock that everyone took noticed in the CDC when they first entered the giant room of computers…was a doomsday clock on its own. Once it hits zero, the power goes out and the building goes.

That’s a fiery death no one wants…unless, they are done with the horrors of what’s outside the CDC.

In Catholic school, as vicious as Roman rule

I got my knuckles bruised by a lady in black

And I held my tongue as she told me, “Son..

Fear is the heart of love,” so I never went back

“Y/N! Come on!” Daryl yells to her frozen state as Y/N’s gaze was glued to the clock on the wall watching it slowly go down. “Y/N!” He continues to yell before running over to her and noticing the questioning look on her face. “Nah. You ain’t staying”

“Daryl…”

“No!”

“But this…just…” Y/N started to tear up at the thought that she wanted an escape like this. “Daryl I don’t…I don’t know what I want anymore”

“But I do! I know what I want” Daryl himself, the hard exterior of the tough lone wolf redneck that stood before her, cracked open. “And that’s you. You in my life” to show that soft interior.

If heaven and hell decide that they both are satisfied…

“I can’t lose you too. I don’t want to lose you ever” Daryl admits watching her features soften as he carefully pressed his forehead against hers which lead to the tears pouring from her eyes. “I’ve lived. I understand that. But I haven’t truly appreciated the life I was given until you came into it. I need you to stay in it” he begged and no one has ever heard him beg once before.

Illuminate the “no”s on their vacancy signs…

As the group tried to get the glass to break, Daryl came running in with Y/N in his arms. The moment he came is when he saw the grenade in Rick’s hand right as he pulled the pin. He quickly crouched covering Y/N’s body with his own feeling her tighten her grasp on him as the explosion shook them both slightly.

Daryl quickly pulled back to check her features feeling her hand gently caress his cheek before he got back up carrying her out.

If there’s no one beside you when your soul embarks…

The archer got her to his truck when the eruption of the CDC shook the ground they stood on as Daryl quickly knelt to the ground gripping onto Y/N for dear life as she did the same while the tears poured from her eyes.

“Please don’t ever let go of me”

“I won’t. I promise. I’ll promise every day if I gotta Y/N” Daryl states pulling back once the eruption settled and Y/N was gently placed on her own footing.

Y/N straightened up with Daryl feeling his hands plant on her hips as she couldn’t help the tears from falling even faster.

“I love you”

Daryl quickly moved his hands from her hips to her face, firmly pressing his lips to hers. Finally after all this time of pining. He felt his own tears fall as he gently pulls away from her lips bringing her body close to his.

“I love you so much you have no idea”

Then I’ll follow you into the dark

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #head over heels #ride the lightning #take a chance on me #by myself #dirty boots #yellow #i will follow you into the dark #blue is Y/N listening #red is Daryl #purple is both

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yevmarie · 2 months

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Light My Fire | Chapter 7

Masterlist

< Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 >

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader

Word count: 2.3k

Pronouns: you, she/her

Warnings: angst, mentions of depression, swearing, mentions of physical abuse towards other people, detailed description of typical TWD violence, differences from the main plot may occur, bad English (not my first language).

Taglist: @your-shifting-gurl @bae-live-0 @richardsamboramylove55 @deansapplepie @snailss @denisecabrera @dreamtofus @duckybird101

You were sitting near the tent, trying to occupy your mind with the book you had taken at the beginning of the outbreak when you left home. The novel was so good that you binge-read it after Rick got to the hospital. That was the only thing that distracted you somehow, almost the cure for the hours spent crying after calls with Lori, who always said the doctor's forecast had been discouraging.

Now, everything was different. Although you reunited with your friend, other things were bothering you. Thoughts rushed after every sentence being read.

Is Merle alive? Will the group come back? Should I tell everything to Rick? But that fucker Shane almost killed me today. Shit! The neck hurts so much I'd probably have bruises forming a 'necklace' in a day. Shane is scaring the hell out of me. Why is he doing that to me? Did I deserve it after all my love given to him? I think I deserve just nothing good. If any good is even left in this world…

You cursed to yourself, noticing that familiar Depression FM finding the 'right' radio wave in your mind. The host today is so cruel; he plays that shitty song with the lyrics derived from your brain. And that fucking cassette tape is broken, repeating every verse again and again. You knew what to do in such cases.

"Ms. Y/LN, there's one technique that helps to get rid of repetitive unhealthy thoughts. But it needs practice as any of them. So close your eyes and imagine a bus stop, some familiar one to you. Perhaps near your work. This must be the place you know well to add realism to your brain."

You put the book aside and leaned back on the tree to relax your body. You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and imagined the bus stop near your office. This is a busy street full of office workers fussing around and cars honking.

"Good. Now imagine the bus you are waiting for."

You are standing in your uncomfortable office outfit, praying to catch the bus quicker and get home. And here it is!

"When it arrives, come up to it."

You make several steps, slightly losing balance as some teenage girl pushes you, aiming to get in faster than you to take a seat.

"The doors are opening, and you get in but notice one unpleasant thing… The people inside only talk about you. About your insecurities. They literally repeat your thoughts out loud, saying them to you in your face."

"You don't deserve love," an old grumpy lady says, looking at you with side eyes.

You take a step further, aiming for the part of the bus with fewer people, finding a man wearing total black: a leather jacket, jeans, massive boots, and bike gloves. He is saying nothing to you. He's not even looking at you, listening to whatever music is playing in his earphones.

"Love? Don't be ridiculous," the teenage girl who had pushed you before chuckled. "She just deserves nothing good."

Another step up to the man when he finally turns to you. Pale blue eyes, three-day stubble, a bit outgrown haircut, two cute moles on the face, one above his thin lips. Although his frame is wide and the outfit is brutal, he doesn't seem like that. He's calm.

"Daryl?" you whispered, standing up too close to him, the haunting scent mixed of his cologne, leather, and tobacco hitting your brain, sending waves of excitement through your veins.

"Yeah, talking about Daryl," a clerk sitting near you, reading a newspaper, caught your attention, "He thinks you are useless."

"Reckless," a woman cooing to her baby corrected the clerk.

"He talks to you out of pity," another voice said.

"He's not interested in you," added yet another.

All the hurtful voices meshed together, making your tears swell in your eyes. Daryl took off his earphones and passed them to you. You plugged them in and heard… Nothing! Except the silent echo of your heartbeat. You noticed people were still talking to you but couldn't hear them. Daryl cupped your face with his calloused, warm palms, still looking into your eyes. His gaze was calm, gentle, and loving. He leaned closer, narrowing the space between your faces, looking down at your lips; his breath tickled your sences as you savored the moment with anticipation.

"Ms. Y/LN, after hearing everything the passengers have told you, would you get off the bus?"

"No," you whispered, closing your eyes and feeling Daryl's lips touching yours in a sensual kiss.

FUCK!

You opened your eyes and threw the book away towards the tent.

"So, have I fallen for Daryl?" you asked yourself, desperately sighing, as surely daydreaming about the hunter wasn't planned, when suddenly you saw a familiar woman figure approaching you - Lori.

"Y/N, can I ask you to look after Carl and Sofia?" the woman's expression was concerned, obviously stressed out by something. You only nodded in consent, not wishing to talk, and stood up to go for the children. But your hope of no dialogue with the woman was dispelled in a second when she gently grabbed your forearm.

"We need to talk, Y/N."

"Enough talking for me today," you mumbled and stepped forward but were stopped again by Lori's touch.

"Please," she begged sincerely. "I… I'm really sorry for all that," her voice shaky. "I didn't know you still had feelings for him."

"You never asked," your response was just a guillotine, cutting off all potential reasoning.

"If you had only told me before… Perhaps I'd still be devastated, but I knew you were fair to me. And after some time, I'd accept it," you looked at your crying former friend and felt the pain hit your chest.

"Look, I'm not aiming to hurt you. Just trust me, it doesn't bring me any satisfaction. I'm not a monster. I just want to let you know I've always expected some tricks from Shane but not from you. Because you know what? I've always thought friendship is stronger. Love just comes and goes. But you betrayed me."

"Okay, okay," Lori nodded, sobbing, and was going to walk away, but you stepped aside and appeared on her way.

"I could overcome it and forgive you one day. But if Rick doesn't… He just doesn't deserve all of this."

"He'll never know," her answer outraged you. She was so sure you wouldn't tell Rick.

And honestly, she was right and wrong at the same time by saying this. You face the dilemma of telling Rick everything you know and destroying his family and friendship with Shane. Or you just step back and lose another close person like Rick because you'd not be able to even look into his eyes and act like everything is going fine and finally betray him by keeping silent. You didn't know what to do, and this tortured you.

"Then I'll just be nice to you for the love of Rick and Carl. I can't offer more; I'm sorry," you turned around and walked toward the campfire, leaving Lori alone. "I'll look after Carl and Sofia."

Hours later, when you were spending time with the children, the camp was shocked by another event: Shane beat up Ed after he hit Carol. You felt sorry for the woman and reasoned her to have her rest, though you had planned otherwise before, and took your duty to help in the kitchen and stew the squirrels for the group.

It was getting darker; the group was having dinner, but no one returned from the run to Atlanta. You saved the portions for the men and started cleaning the place you called the kitchen. You couldn't have your rest; otherwise, you would go crazy. Or eat as the food stuck in your throat again. Your nerves were being torn to shreds.

But Amy's wrenching scream cut off the silence you mistakenly considered agonizing.

"Walkers!" people yelled.

The chaos burst in seconds, resulting in fussing, cries, and shooting. The latter bothered you the most as it was uncontrollable, and you were scared to take a slug. You ran to the table and took a knife, scanning the situation around. Lori and Carl were hiding behind shooting Shane; that's good. You were looking for Carol and Sofia, who were near Shane as well but were more vulnerable to attack.

You were going to run to them but heard upcoming rasps just near yourself. Turning around, you stabbed the walker's head, hearing the gut-wrenching sound of tearing skin and breaking skull. The blood spraying on your face and the smell almost made you vomit. The body fell on the ground when another walker approached you, snapping its teeth and stretching its arms to you. You kicked it in the chest so you had more space for maneuvering, swaying your arm holding the knife to damage the skull of the lying dead.

You stood up, taking a deep breath and wiping the sweat off your forehead. Other shooting noises were reaching the camp. You heard Rick's voice calling his family when you fell, being pushed down to the ground. Your chest took a pasting by falling flat on the ground, and the air from your lungs was beaten away. You realized the snapping teeth were inches from your skin, so at least you needed to push it away from you to kill, but the body was so heavy you couldn't make a move.

Suddenly, you felt the weight above was lifted from you, thrown somewhere away, and shot, so you jumped out of your skin, instinctively closing your ears. Then, your body was lifted easily as if you were a featherweight. An arm tugs around you, pushing your back into someone's body.

"Ya okay?" you know this gruff voice.

You quickly nodded and squizzed his forearm, thanking god Daryl returned to the camp.

"Stay behind; it's clear there," the archer freed you from his hug and continued shooting the dead.

Several minutes passed when the last walker was down. You were panting, trying to catch your breath, and dropped to your knees as your muscles were aching. You looked back and saw Rick hugging his family. Carol and her daughter were safe, but the field around the camp was covered with dead flesh — the bitter payment for your close people to be alive.

"Y/N," you heard Rick approaching you, helping you stand up, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," you nodded, standing up, but your legs were wobbling, so the sheriff had to help you keep your balance by holding you by your back.

"Where's Merle?"

"He escaped, but we couldn't find either him or his body."

The hope died in your eyes, turning your gaze to as black as night.

"Y/N, can you tell me something?"

"Hm?" you hummed, fluttering your eyes open as if you were returning from a trance.

"Did Merle and you..?"

"No," you cut short his question and were trying to walk away, but Rick stopped you, standing next to you, gently holding your shoulders.

"Is it because of Daryl?" by an odd coincidence, the name mentioned made you stiffen so that Rick's touch read your tensity.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you like him?"

You stiffened even more, and the opportunity to lie about something faded. Considering you were talking to the sheriff, who was too good at reading people. Furthermore, when they were close ones.

"No. We just became friends," you put his arm aside, hinting you'd like to walk away. This dialogue was leading to some strange course. "Rick, I wanna sleep, let's talk tomorrow, okay?"

Your friend nodded and stared after you walking away.

"So, why do you sleep in Daryl's tent?" you stopped and turned around to the man.

"Because you got back, and there's not enough space for four of us."

"You had already moved to Dixons. There was no stuff of yours. Or you are a medium."

"Rick, is it cross-examining?"

"I just wonder why you behave so strangely. If you like some of the brothers, it changes everything. I'll insist on searching. If you don't have feelings but still hang out with them when your family is here. Then I assume you'd had some fighting with Lori and…"

"Hey man," Shane appeared out of nowhere, approaching Rick. "Let's discuss our plans for tomorrow. We need to do something with the bodies."

You mentally thanked your ex and quickly walked to the tent. Getting inside of it, you noticed the archer was already sleeping. Perhaps he was so tired he didn't give a damn where he was going. And at least it's his tent. You grabbed your blanket to move to Merle's, but Daryl's voice stopped you.

"Ain't sleeping. Get inside. It's better to stick together if another horde is coming. Not gonna touch ya," the hunter's sleeping voice made some magic to you as you got in and laid down back to him without hesitation. You covered yourself with the blanket, but it was too much already as you were flushed red, and all your blood was running in hot impulses through your body.

"Is it okay?" Daryl wanted to reassure himself you were fine with this.

"Yeah," you replied.

"So, if Rick noticed, then when will you accept you have fallen for Daryl, Y/N?" you told yourself and shut your eyes tightly as if it would help you fall asleep faster.

< Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 >

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desiderio-dixon · 3 months

Text

Darkest Before the Dawn

Chapter 3 : Hand Me Downs

Pairing : Daryl Dixon x f!reader (endgame), (unrequited) Glenn Rhee x f!reader

Series summary : When Glenn Rhee comes into your life, you become convinced he's a guardian angel sent by your late best friend. You think he's your soulmate. But then he falls for the farmer's daughter, and you find that your own angel may be a little more blatant than expected; wings and all.

Chapter summary : Glenn returns from Atlanta, Daryl returns from hunting, and all of you leave on a rescue mission for Merle.

Chapter warnings : language, violence, gore, general twd themes

Word count : 3.8k

A/N : This one wasn't proof-read so if anyone noticed any mistakes please lmk! next update may be a little slower because closing in on the process of adopting a puppy!

❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀

Emerging from your tent, you head for Dale immediately. The noise is only growing closer and louder, and everyone is grouped around Dale. The old man looks through his binoculars, eyebrows furrowed. "Well, I'll be damned." Dale mutters.

"What is it?" Amy pushes impatiently.

"A stolen car is my guess."

The bright red sports car pulls into the quarry, and your heart leaps in your chest when you spy the driver. While everyone around panics about the noise, or their still-missing friends, your relief outweighs anything else. You leap onto Glenn, hugging him tight while he attempts to calm Amy. Paying it no mind, you only focus on the way his arms circle around your back to return the hug. It only lasts a couple seconds before he's stepping back to pop the hood for Shane. It's enough, though.

"Why isn't she with you? Where is she? She's okay?" Amy sputters, wide eyed and frantic.

"Yes! Yeah, fine. Everybody is. Well, Merle not so much." Typically you wouldn't care that anything had happened to Merle. You'd even go as far to say, you'd be downright relieved. You wouldn't wish death on anyone, but maybe you'd wish that Merle would somehow be teleported a good 200 miles away from you. But, that relief was only there for a split second. Instead, you felt a deep sense of worry for Daryl.

You didn't know him much at all, hell, he's spoken no more than five sentences to you the entire time you'd known him. None of those sentences were ever delivered in a particularly friendly manner, but just this morning he had helped you. You knew he felt like an outsider, and it seemed the only person in the group he liked was his brother.

Not only were you worried he'd fall into some form of depression if Merle was dead, but you were also worried he'd leave. Daryl provided so much to your group, and whether they realized it or not, everyone owed a lot to him.

You break free of your thoughts just in time to hear Dale scolding Glenn. "It wouldn't hurt you to think things through a little more carefully next time, would it?"

You know Glenn looks up to Dale, can see his worry of disappointing him. "Sorry," Glenn says, staring at his feet. Then, he looks up with a grin. "Got a cool car." That makes you let out a huff of laughter. It is a pretty cool car.

Your attention is stolen away by the sound of tires crunching over gravel, the van pulling in behind the red dodge charger. Andrea is the first to hop out, running to Amy. Morales, T-dog, and Jacqui all spill out after her. Morales greets his wife and children before coming over to give Dale a hug. "I thought we'd lost you folks for sure." Dale laughs.

"How'd y'all get out of there, anyway?" Shane asks, hands on his hips. The classic authoritarian stance he always seems to don.

From beside you, Glenn speaks up. "New guy." He glances to the van. "He got us out." New guy? It's been a while since your group has welcomed a new addition.

Nothing could prepare you for the reaction to the man who steps out of the van. Lori and Shane frozen, absolutely shellshocked. Carl, running and screaming for his father.

Lori recovers after a moment, falling into her husband's awaiting arms. Shane stays where he is, no hint of a smile on his face. You catch him fake one when Rick looks his way. It's not hard to guess what's happening. "Trouble in apocalyptic paradise for Shane and Lori." You whisper to Glenn, who only looks down at his shoes and shakes his head in sardonic amusement.

You get along well enough with Lori, if nothing else but for the simple fact that you adore her son. She's never done anything to make you think less of her, and you really don't blame her for her obvious affair with Shane. She'd told the story to you once or twice. Husband gets shot on the job, comatose, shit hits the fan, husband's best friend takes care of her and her son. And of course, she'd told you the part where Shane had listened for a heartbeat. There was none. Or so it was said.

Who can blame a grieving widow, lost in this shit-storm of a world for seeking comfort in a fling with the man she believes is her savior?

❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀

You sit down by the unlit firepit with T-dog and Glenn. T-dog gnaws on a piece of jerky, eyes downcast. "Daryl's not gonna be happy," You start. No one has filled you in exactly on what happened, just that Merle was left chained on the roof. Alive but trapped. "But I'm sure he'll understand to some degree. He's gotta be more tired of his brother than any of us." You joke. T-dog just shakes his head, obviously guilty.

"He was out of control. Rick did the right thing." Glenn tells you. You hum in response, gaze wandering to where Rick wanders around camp, acquainting himself with all it's residents. The deputy must feel your eyes on him, because when he's done shaking Ed's hand, he heads for you. He's all confident strides, a sureness you haven't seen in anyone since the end of the world. You guess it's the effect of finding your wife and child in such unlikely circumstances.

He stops in front of you, hand extended and a smile more full of happiness than you've seen in two months. "Rick Grimes." He introduces.

You return his smile, clasping his hand. "Trust me, I already knew your name. Carl's told me all about how cool his daddy is." He laughs, looking down in a sort of bashful manner. You tell him your name, and he repeats it, nodding to himself.

"Yeah," He drawls. "Turns out I already knew yours, too. Glenn told me you know the city like the back of your hand." You nod. You'd lived in Atlanta before the turn, and you'd only become even more informed on it given the various runs you'd been on.

"Oh yeah. Normally I would've been there, being the one to save Glenn's ass. Glad you were there to fill my shoes." You tease, nudging Glenn with your shoulder. He pushes you back gently, sputtering out defenses.

When you glance back to Rick, he's laughing too.

❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀

After the sun had gone to sleep, and the stars brought a bitter chill to the air, everyone gathered around the firepit. Rick has Lori and Carl tucked into his side as he recalls the chain of events leading him back to them. "Disoriented. I guess that comes closest. Disoriented. Fear, confusion; all of those things but, disoriented comes closest."

It must be strange to just wake up in a world like this. At least you had seen things progress. Heard the stories of cannibals on the radio, seen the news clips of deathly beings attacking civilians, watched the hospitals become overrun and the system fall apart. You'd seen the bombs drop, too.

"Words can be meager things, sometimes they fall short." Dale pipes up beside you. You look at Glenn, his face illuminated in a warm glow from the fire. Looking at him lights a sense of comfort and safety within you. He may be young, awkward and clunky, but he saved you.

The conversation goes on, focus almost entirely on Rick. When he turns to Shane, a sincerity to his eyes, you feel almost guilty. As if you are the one harboring the secret of Lori and Shane's affair. "I can't tell you how grateful I am to you, Shane." You have to suppress a sigh at his words. "I can't begin to express it."

"There goes those words falling short again." Dale quips. You can't help but agree. It's not your business, but you feel that words can't begin to express how convoluted the relationship between those three will end up being. How long can you keep secrets from a cop?

Shane leaves shortly after to argue with Ed. Not the first time the drunken man had insisted he needed a larger fire. You keep an eye from your spot, watching Carol and Sophia closely. You don't like Shane, but you know he'd use any excuse to beat on Ed. There's no complaints to be had from you if an altercation between the two started; as long as Carol and Sophia are safe and away from the action.

Somewhat unfortunately, the situation seems to resolve, Shane coming back to the main firepit. "Have you given any thought to Daryl Dixon? He won't be happy to hear his brother was left behind." Dale says once Shane's situated. This time, your sigh does spill out. You weren't a part of the Atlanta group, and yet, all you've been thinking about since they got back was Daryl Dixon.

"I'll tell him," T-dog offers. "I dropped the key, it's on me."

Rick shakes his head. "I cuffed him." You see Glenn shaking his leg from beside you, glancing between T-dog and Rick beyond the fire.

"Guys, it's not a competition. I don't mean to bring race into this, but it might sound better coming from a white guy." Ah, so that's why he was so nervous.

"I really don't think Daryl is like Merle," You say, unsure why you feel the need to defend him. Just because he brought Carol to you? "At least not like that." There were definitely other ways Daryl was like Merle. Their brash language, their unkempt demeanor, and perhaps their general strength and hunting skill. Still, Daryl didn't strike you as a racist.

The conversation goes on, discussing what to tell Daryl. Who to take blame, whether to lie or be honest.

"I stopped long enough to chain that door. Staircase is narrow. Maybe half a dozen geeks can squeeze against it at any one time. It's not enough to break through that. Not that chain, not that padlock." T-dog rambles, the fire crackling loudly as a backtrack to his words. "My point– Dixon's alive and he's still up there, handcuffed on that roof. That's on us."

His confirmation that Merle is alive ends the discussion for the night, the group trickles off into their respective tents, and the fire flickers out. Glenn stands from beside you, announcing his departure. You watch him as he leaves, a coldness taking over in his absence.

You stay behind for a moment, no one left at the fire. A few feet away, Shane sits atop the RV. Paying him no mind, you lean back and stare at the sky. It's moments like these that you allow yourself to remember your best friend; allow yourself to picture her face among the stars. You take a deep breath, feeling it stretch your lungs, before breathing it out into the chilly night air. You imagine it takes the weight in your heart with it. But when you're done, standing up and heading to your tent, your chest feels just as heavy.

❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀

Daryl finishes stringing up cans around the small clearing. It's not much, but it's some form of protection. He lies in the makeshift bed–his bag as a pillow and a t-shirt as a mattress. The trip hadn't been as productive thus far as he'd hoped, only a string of squirrels lay beside him. He'll get up before the sun, and keep going until he finds something of value he decides.

He takes comfort in staring at the night sky. It's where he feels he belongs. Even before the end of the world, he'd spent most nights sleeping outside in nature. It was always safer. In some way, he does find himself feeling more exposed without the knowledge that there are people around him. At the quarry, there's always someone keeping watch. He couldn't trust Merle to keep sober to watch his back.

But soon enough, it'll be back to just him and Merle. He'll have to deal with it.

❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀

You, Carol, and Lori are on laundry duty this morning. Carol scrubs Rick's sherrif uniform and something about it almost makes you giggle. Wearing a police uniform in the apocalypse is nothing short of something from a comic book.

You have Glenn's hat, trying to spot clean little dried blood stains. "I wish peroxide wasn't as valuable," You comment, scrubbing with all your might on a particularly stubborn stain. "Used to wash out blood like magic." Carol hums, agreeing. Lori stays silent, working on her own laundry with a faraway look.

"Everything okay with you and Rick?" Carol asks, touching Lori's arm gently with a soapy hand. Lori nearly jumps out of her skin, water splashing from her basin. Suds fly through the air, and to your great displeasure, a splotch of soap lands right in your eye.

"Ow, shit!" You cry, dropping Glenn's hat and covering your eye. Lori frantically apologizes.

Due to your momentary loss of vision, you don't notice Glenn approaching you until he's calling out. "Hey, you okay? Let me see," He says. You tilt your head up, trying your best to open your eye. He takes the corner of his shirt and lifts it, using it to gently brush soap away from your eye.

His care for you makes you warm. It feels good to know someone cares. You rapidly blink to clear the remnants of soap, before flashing him a radiant smile. "Thanks." You breathe.

❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀

Later, you stand next to Glenn, sharing in his grief. Dale and Jim are under the hood of the Dodge Charger, yanking out parts and pieces. Glenn's hands are on his head, brows furrowed in sadness. You pat him on the back. "We'll find another."

"Generators need every drop of fuel they can get. Got no power without it. Sorry, Glenn." Dale calls. Glenn looks down at his feet and you giggle, much to his chagrin.

Before you know it, Rick has approached you, a similar look of amusement on his face. "I thought I'd get to drive it at least a few more days." Glenn mumbles.

"Maybe we'll steal another one someday." Rick echoes your earlier sentiment. He wanders off, likely to find Lori.

"You replacing me with officer friendly?" You joke, nudging Glenn. He exhales through his nose, a small grin on his face.

"I don't know who makes fun of me more." He whines. You roll your eyes, reaching up to steal his hat off his head. Placing it on top your own, you turn and run, laughing while he chases you.

The chase gets cut short by a chorus of screams. You and Glenn freeze in unison, wide eyes meeting each other before you both dash. You hear Carl and Sophia's distinct voices calling out for their mothers.

You run as fast as your feet can carry you, Glenn's hat discarded still on your head. The children are at the edge of the forest, and as the adults arrive, they all run right into their parents arms. Running into the forest behind them, you all find the culprit. A deer, now dead, with a walker feasting on its innards. Your eyes are drawn to the various arrows sticking out of it.

The men jump into action, beating the walker with various objects. It reminds you of prison beatings in movies; ugly, uncoordinated, and inefficient. When they finish, the grunts and huffs silenced, you point to the arrows. "Daryl." You simply offer.

Shane nods, but otherwise they seem to ignore you. "It's the first one we've had up here. They never come this far up the mountain." Dale says, eyes wide.

Suddenly, the tree branches start to move and dried leaves crunch under the weight of something. You all gear up to fight another walker, when Daryl Dixon comes stumbling out of the woods. There's a level of relief to seeing him, knowing that your group didn't lose both their prize hunters in one fell swoop. But there's also a level of dread, a sinking weight in your stomach when you think of the news that needs delivering.

You don't get to think on it long, for Daryl interrupts your thoughts with an outburst. "Son of a bitch. That's my deer! Look at it. All gnawed on by this–" He starts kicking the walker. "–filthy, disease-bearin', motherless, poxy bastard!" You can't help but laugh. You really don't mean to, don't want him to think you're mocking him. The giggles just tumble out one-by-one, unstoppable in their path.

Everyone pauses to look at you, varying degrees of concern and confusion, but you just can't stop laughing. Daryl narrows his eyes at you, "This funny to ya?" You can't answer through your huffs, so Daryl just scoffs, turning his attention back to the walker. It receives one more swift kick to the side.

Dale extends his arm in a notion to stop. "Calm down, son. That's not helping." You know it from the moment it leaves his lips that he'll receive an earful for this. It simply doesn't work to tell a man like Daryl to 'calm down'.

Just as expected, Dale receives the opposite of the intended reaction. "What do you know about it, old man? Why don't ya take that stupid hat and go back to 'on golden pond'?" You, for one, think Dale's bucket hat is very stylish, and you'd let him know that on multiple occasions.

"I've been tracking this deer for miles. Gonna drag it back to camp, cook us up some venison. What do ya think? Do ya think we can cut around this chewed up part right here?" He seems genuine, chewing on his thumb and contemplating with a furrowed brow.

"I would not risk that." Shane says. Daryl sighs, disappointment evident.

"That's a damn shame. I got some squirrel, about a dozen or so. That'll have to do." Daryl moves to leave, and you start to follow behind him.

Suddenly, the decapitated walkers head breathes life once more, snapping it's teeth and groaning. Daryl stops in his tracks, almost making you face-plant right into his back. "Come on, people. What the hell?" He readies his crossbow, shooting the decaying head right between the eyes.

"It's gotta be the brain. Don't y'all know nothing?"

❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀

Daryl makes it back to the camp first, tossing his string of squirrels by the firepit. "Merle! Get yer ugly ass out here, got us some squirrel! Let's stew 'em up!" He does find it strange that Merle doesn't immediately respond, knowing how loose Merle's jaw is.

Shane's voice, his tone, sends a spiral of uncertainty through him. "Daryl, just slow up a bit, need to talk to you."

Daryl whips around to face Shane. "About what?" Shane places his hands over his belt buckle, eyes darting away from Daryl.

"About Merle. There was a–There was a problem in Atlanta." Daryl let's the words sink in, nodding slowly. He feels that all too familiar lump in his throat, panic digging her claws into his esophagus.

"He dead?" He thinks he must be. What else could Shane be referring to?

"We're not sure." Shane says. That lights a fire in Daryl. Uncertainty has never been his friend. Things didn't feel real without confirmation.

"He either is or he ain't!"

Rick approaches, hand out as if Daryl was some rabid animal. "No easy way to say this, so I'll just say it."

"Who are you?" Daryl snaps, looking this new guy up and down. He looks past him, to everyone at camp, who seems to not bat an eye at the newcomer. The hell did he miss?

"Rick Grimes." The confidence that Rick delivers his name in only makes Daryl more angry.

Daryl huffs, stepping closer to Rick, chest puffed. "Rick grimes, you got something you want to tell me?"

"Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal." Rick tilts his head, locking eyes with Daryl. "He's still there."

Daryl almost laughs, a bitter, angry laugh at the absurdity. "Hold on. Let me process this." He gestures to his head. "You're saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof and you left him there?" He yells.

"Yeah." Next thing Daryl knows, he's pulled his knife and Shane has him in a chokehold.

"You'd best let me go!" He screeches, thrashing wildly.

Shane only seems to tighten his grip. "Nah, I think it's better if I don't."

"Choke hold's illegal."

Shane has an air of amusement in his tone when he responds, but nothings funny to Daryl right now. "You can file a complaint. Come on, man. We'll keep this up all day."

Rick crouches down to look Daryl in his eye. "I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic. Do you think we can manage that? Do you think we can manage that?"

Its not Rick's request, or his condescending tone that causes Daryl to agree. It's not Shane's grip either. It's when he looks behind them, to you.

You, with your eyes full of not fear or worry, but of sympathy. It makes shame burn in him, enveloping his body in an overwhelming and uncomfortable warmth. He feels your eyes on him and he feels your pity and it makes him sick. He needs out. If he has to have a peaceful conversation with Rick to get away from your piercing eyes, then so be it.

Imagine Daryl's thrill when Rick proposes you and Glenn to join in the rescue mission for Merle. He'd said something about you and Glenn knowing the city, needing you to retrieve a bag of guns. Daryl narrows his eyes at you and Glenn when you pack into the back of the van. You've still got the kid's hat on, and something about that makes him uncomfortable. Who has time for love in this world?

The ride is mostly silent, some jokes exchanged between you, Glenn, and T-dog. Nothing Daryl pays much attention to. He'd rather go get his brother himself. Eventually Glenn stops the van. "We walk from here."

On the walk, Daryl's heart speeds up the closer he gets to the department store. He's antsy, just wants to see his brother, dead or alive. You seem to notice, speeding your steps a bit to walk in pace with him. "I'm sure he's okay. You Dixons are tough." Daryl just scoffs, refusing to meet your eye.

Each step up to the roof sends a new wave of nerves through his stomach, so he takes them two at a time. T-dog cuts through the padlock and Daryl brushes past him onto the roof. "Merle!" And then he sees it. Grey and decaying, bloody and lifeless. It reminds Daryl of everything else Merle has left for him.

All the ripped old flannels, the half drank beers, hell, even the aged porno mags with the ink smeared and half the pages falling out. Merle never left anything pleasant for Daryl.

Though, while sobbing over Merle's dismembered hand, he has to say that this is the worst hand me down of all.

❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀

taglist(open): @celtic-crossbow

#daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon #daryl fanfiction #daryl imagines #daryl x female reader #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl x you #the walking dead daryl #dbtd #the walking dead #twd imagine #twd fanfiction #twd daryl

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ghostboneswrites2 · 2 months

Text

A Mess || Part 5

New account! @ghostbones was banned! Transferring everything here starting with this series since it was the most popular!

Summary: Grief and a blend of confusing emotions overcomes you. It takes a while but you overcome it, with the help of one of Daryl's signature, oh-so-comforting pep talks (/s). Daryl takes some advice from Carol and executes it poorly, to say the least.

18+ MDNI || WARNINGS: profanity, descriptions of grief / loss, Daryl is kinda dumb

There was a loud ringing in your ears. After everything that had happened -- the fire, the walkers, the agonized screams, the rotting stench -- nothing could have prepared you for those words.

"I killed my best friend for you people."

Shane was indeed a hotheaded ass-wipe. His behavior had only grown more erratic in the last few weeks. But still, those words knocked the breath out of you. It was like Rick's voice reached inside your head and plucked every single thought out of your brain. There wasn't a single one flowing, only the image of Shane's dead body lying in the grass somewhere.

The man who you'd been with since you had just got out of high school. He paid for everything. He clothed you, fed you, held you at night, planted sweet kisses all over you when you were ad at him because he knew you couldn't resist his apologies. Surely that man was dead long before he was killed. The man Rick killed hurt you in more ways than one, both emotionally and physically.

What were you feeling? Why? How were you supposed to cope? You wished Rick would have just lied. A walker got him, maybe even a wild boar. But this? It was too much.

You looked catatonic to everyone around you, sitting in some stone ruins around a campfire. You were off to the side, too far to enjoy the heat of the flame. The cold didn't even seem to phase you. The others were grumbling about whether or not to keep following Rick but you were in another world, another dimension.

You weren't mourning, or maybe you were? Could you even feel anything? You ripped your eyes away from the random stone you had been mindlessly fixated on and looked over the remaining survivors from the farm. Most of them just looked bewildered and traumatized. Daryl was sitting by Carol talking about something, though he'd sneak a glance your way every now and then. Lori was cradling Carl. She didn't take the news so well either, though it seemed to be for different reasons.

You took in a deep breath, the kind that filled your lungs so much it hurt, and pushed it back out. You couldn't feel anything inside. Outside was all a blur. How were you supposed to feel? You life had been uprooted and changed overnight, and somehow this just seemed to do that all over again.

Rick crouched in front of you, gaging your state as he handed you a jacket. "It's getting cold." He told you.

You slowly accepted the jacket and stared him in the eyes. He seemed regretful and angry. You were sure he didn't want to do what he did. Shane had a way of pushing people until they tipped over the edge and shattered on the ground.

"Yeah." You croaked.

"I'm sorry." Rick said. "I didn't want to do it, but he was gonna kill me first."

You gulped. You believed him, but it was hard to talk to him.

"Okay." You nodded. He nodded back and stood up.

You slid the jacket on over your thin tee. It didn't seem to make a difference. Warm or cold, day or night, awake or asleep, the days blended together from that point forward and it all felt the same. You didn't know what to call it. A depression? A loss of direction? A disconnect? Dissociation?

Weeks went by on the road. Most people didn't speak to you, and if they did there was an annoying sympathetic tone behind it. You hated it. You weren't a widow. It was over before it ended.

Then the prison came along. It wasn't so hard to take it for yourselves, though couple of people were lost along the way. When Lori died, Rick checked out. Beth usually took over with Judith. You distanced yourself from the little thing. You were supposed to have one, once upon a time, in another life.

As the days got warmer, you felt more alive. One day in particular you felt a wave of relief was over you. It was refreshing, even if you couldn't pinpoint the source. You got out of bed that day and went straight out to the courtyard. There, when you found a corner to yourself where nobody could bother you, you laid flat out on the grass and stared up at the sky. Thin, wispy clouds fluttered over an otherwise clear blue canvas. The grass smelled sweat, even if it was itchy underneath you. Occasionally you'd see a little bug speed over or a bird flapping up high. Somehow things felt peaceful, a much needed juxtaposition to the previously dreary days and nights painted in gray.

"Hey." That familiar rasp sounded from above your head. You looked upward, Daryl's figure towering over you.

"Hey." You said. Your voice sounded sweet and calm, though still a bit melancholy. It was better, to him, than the empty monotone way you had been speaking, when you did speak.

"'M goin' on a run. Comin'?"

"Okay." Was all you said. You pushed yourself up off the ground and onto your feet. He handed you a bag with some basic supplies for a day trip. When you had the straps secured over your shouldered he offered you a knife and a gun and led you to the gates.

Carl, the now motherless child, pulled the gates open and shut them behind you both. He took you in a car to the nearest town, pulling straight up to a small store. He turned off the car but he didn't get out. Instead he looked you over, chewing at his cheeks as he sifted through the sea of thoughts in his head to find the right words.

"Y'alright?" He finally asked. He hadn't spoken to you much since the farm fell. He thought you'd need space to grieve and process, and you did, but he also just didn't know how to be there for you in a time like that. He was too checked out himself.

"I'm alive." You shrugged, eyes fixated on the dash. It seemed to become a habit nowadays, never really focusing on one thing or another. Your stare was always blank and it never focused on anything or anyone, just whatever blank space was between them and you.

"That ain't what I mean."

"What do you want me to say? I'm here. I'm fine." You insisted.

"No ya ain't"

You pressed your lips together and nodded.

"I don't know." You answered truthfully. "Feels wrong to be sad and it feels wrong to move on."

"Yeah." He nodded. "It ain't wrong to do neither."

"I just don't know what to do with myself." You mumbled. "I try to make myself useful but Rick can barely look me in the eyes to give me a job on any given day. Everyone else looks at me like an injured puppy."

"They don't know what to say. That's all." He assured you.

"Well neither the fuck do I."

"Ya just can't let yourself die with him." He said. "It's okay that ya loved him. It's okay that ya hated him too."

----

Another sleepless night tormented you. Instead of flopping around in bed and probably keeping the surrounding cell dwellers awake all night you decided to go walk around the courtyard. It had to be better than the alternative, right?

The stars were so bright nowadays. You spent a lot of nights staring up at them with wonder. One of the few things that were actually better after the end of the world.

"Need a smoke?" Daryl offered. You jumped. You didn't even hear him walk up. Good thing he wasn't a walker or you'd be done for.

"Not a smoker." You declined.

"Me neither." He said sarcastically as he lit his own. You huffed a little laugh and shook your head, looking back up to the stars.

"The little dipper's out tonight." You said.

"What about the big one?"

"I dunno." You shrugged. "I'm sure it's up there somewhere."

"How do you even find shit like that? Just looks like a bunch o' holes poked in a box."

"It's the only one I know." You admitted. "For all I know, that's the big one and I've never seen the little one."

"Waste o' time." He said.

"Stars are pretty. So are clouds."

"Clouds?" He tilted his head.

"Yeah. You know, like when the sun starts to set and they turn pink and orange? It looks like a painting. Life imitates art, and all."

"Thought that was the other way around." He commented. You shrugged.

"All about perspective, I suppose."

"Nah, it ain't. Life just is what it is." He shook his head. "Can't get caught up with philosophy and lookin' for a deeper meanin'."

"Actualism is no fun, Daryl. Humor me." You rolled your eyes.

"Alright." He nodded. "What about the walkers?""

"What about them?"

"Life imitates art. What the hell are them things imitatin'?"

"That's death." You corrected. "Death imitating life."

"Right." He scoffed, flicking the ash of his cigarette as he took another drag. You sighed.

"I'm not saying everything happens for a reason, or that terrible things have some kind of deeper reason or symbolism." You shook your head. "I just don't see the problem with searching for the beauty in the little things."

"Everything ain't beautiful." He said.

"No, everything isn't. But some things are. Like Beth's voice and her blonde hair, or the bright green leaves in the trees, or the way the vines grow over old houses, or the way Maggie's face lights up when she sees Glenn, or..." You thought for a moment. "Or even you, Daryl."

He pushed his eyebrows together and chuckled.

"Now you're just talkin' out your ass."

"No." You shook your head. "You have pretty eyes."

"You hittin' on me, girl?"

"I'm not not hitting on you."

"I ain't rebound dick, remember?"

"I'm a widow now, asshole. You don't rebound from that. You just move on."

"So, that's what I am? Your next move?" He asked.

"No. Don't be so black-and-white. I just like you. That's all. You're not a rebound or the next square on a checker board. Plus, that'd be too easy. I play chess. Not checkers." You winked as you took his cigarette and stole the last drag before tossing the butt away.

"Those things'll kill ya." He glared.

"So will the sun in large doses." You reasoned.

"Yeah, you ain't gotta worry 'bout that. You see less sun than my bare ass." He teased.

"And your neck's redder than my blood, bow-boy." You retorted.

"It's bowman." He corrected.

"Tomato, to-mah-to." You waved him off.

"You got a real slick mouth, ya know that?"

----

The next morning was especially sweltering. Not a cloud in the sky, only a blazing yellow sphere and the ring of cicadas.

"So, how's (Y/N)?" Carol asked Daryl as they walked the perimeter of the fences. "I saw you two talking last night." Daryl gave her a questioning look. "I was on watch." She clarified. He nodded.

"She'll be alright."

"Losin' a husband's hard." Carol sympathized. "Even when they didn't deserve you."

"You think you could move on from Ed?" He asked.

"I don't know." She pondered. "I mean, eventually I guess. Can't picture myself getting that attached so easily. Not with things how they are."

"Mm." Daryl hummed thoughtfully.

"Why? She got her eyes on someone?" Carol pressed.

"Nah." He shook his head, then he shrugged. "I mean, maybe. I dunno."

"Well what did she say?"

"Just that... It's stupid."

"Tell me." She chuckled, pushing her shoulder into his arm playfully.

"She... said I got pretty eyes."

Carol raised her eyebrows.

"And what did you say?"

"Wha'd'ya mean?"

"I mean what did you say to that?"

"Asked her if she was hittin' on me." He said. She shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose, laughing under her breath. "What?" He asked.

"Come on. You can't be that clueless. You really have no game?" She chuckled.

"Don't need no game." He said. "She don't want that. She's just workin' through shit."

"You're a lost cause." She laughed. "Please tell me you at least said something nice."

Daryl was silent. Had he said anything nice? Sure he did. He was always nice to you, at least most of the time.

"Jesus." Carol sighed. "Good luck."

With that, she patted him on the shoulder and walked away. He leaned on the interior fence and watched her go. As he looked around the courtyard her noticed you working on the exterior fence, stabbing walkers with a broken rake handle.

With little extra thought, he strode over to the first gate and walked between the fences to where you worked.

"Hey." He said. You paused and wiped the sweat from your forehead, squinting in the bright sunlight.

"Hey." You said breathlessly. "What's up?"

"Nothin'." He shrugged. He swayed his weight from one foot to the other anxiously. What had he come over to say? Right, something nice. He looked around for some sort of inspiration. "I, uh, like your...."

You gave him some time to spit it out but he ultimately choked up. You raised your eyebrows. "My..?"

"Your, uh... your shoes."

He wanted to crawl into a hole. Shoes? Really? He was never taking Carol's advice again.

You glanced down at your dirty boots. They were caked in mud and gore and God knows what else.

"My shoes." You repeated slowly. "Thanks?"

"Uh-huh." He gulped with a little nod. "I gotta.." He trailed off, pointing back to the prison as if referring to some imaginary duty he needed to fulfill. You narrowed your eyes a little as he turned around and stalked away with haste. You shook your head and went back to impaling skulls. You had no idea what that was about, nor did you intend on trying to decipher it at that moment.

Masterlist || Taglist

#18+ content #mdni #twd daryl #daryl dixon fanfic #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon #daryl x y/n #daryl x reader #daryl x you #daryl x female reader

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thetriumphantpanda · 10 months

Text

Ghost Of You | J. Miller (Chapter Five)

Series Summary / Grief is a strange thing. In the beginning it had been all-consuming. There wasn’t a moment of the day where you didn’t cry, didn’t ask yourself why it couldn’t have been you instead. And no-one ever explains the guilt you feel when it isn’t anymore. When it’s just a dull ache and you can finally breathe again, when you can start letting people get close to you again. People like Joel Miller.

Pairing / Joel Miller x Widow F!Reader

Word Count / 3.7k

Warnings / FLUFF. ACTUAL FLUFF AND SOME HAPPINESS. Talking about suicide, mourning and descriptions of grief and depression. And a little surprise right at the end that I will not spoil for y'all.

Authors Note / Okay. I LOVE THIS CHAPTER SO MUCH. I have to admit when I wrote it I actually made myself cry and that's no word of a lie. I am having so much fun fleshing this story out and I hope that the slow burn isn't too slow for y'all but I promise these two are moving in the direction we want them to move in - I PROMISE YOU. If you enjoy this then I would LOVE to hear from you - Comments, reblogs and asks genuinely make my day.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

A week later, your garden is abuzz with life. Tommy has dragged the kettle grill from his garden into your own and is currently trying to get the coals to light, Joel is standing over his shoulder trying to get him to listen to what he thinks will work. You giggle to yourself when Tommy follows Joel’s instructions, and the flames catch. Younger brother yet again bested by his older brother’s knowledge.

Maria is stepping out of the kitchen with plates and cutlery, placing them on the table, where Ellie is sat curled on the chair with her nose in a book. She’d come to the library on Monday and switched Artemis Fowl for the Chronicles of Narnia, another good choice in your opinion, and she’d spent most of the last thirty minutes with her nose stuck in the book.

“Here you go, honey,” Maria pushes a glass of blackberry wine into your hand, “Shane sent us a bloody crate of this stuff, he’s made so much this year.”

You clink your glass with her own and take a sip, letting the sweet liquid fall down your throat. You have to admit it was getting better with every year. The first year Shane had proudly debuted his wine it was way too sour, everyone apart from Tommy had been too polite to tell him so. The next year, it had been drowned in enough sugar to give anyone diabetes, but now he was getting the hang of it, and with the sun starting to lower in the sky and all your favourite people, apart from one, around you, you had to admit you thought you were happy.

You’d spent all day cooking side dishes that you’d saved up your ration cards for. Potato salad, a slapdash attempt at Greek salad, just without feta and balsamic vinegar, you’d even made a fresh loaf of bread. Maria and Tommy had brought meat to grill – there were steaks from the last lot of cows to have been slaughtered, chicken that Maria had skewered with peppers, and even burgers and sausages. Your luck to have found this place never failed to amaze you. You could convince yourself all this was back on the street you’d lived at in California before outbreak day. Ellie had even attempted to make a pie as dessert. She’d lifted the cloth covering the pastry when she’d knocked on the door, Joel in tow.

“It’s apple, because I remember you saying that was your favourite,” You’d smiled and pulled her into a quick hug, “Joel insisted on a whole pastry lid though, something about it being better than the lattice.”

You’d looked him in the eye, “Well, Joel is outnumbered here, but we’ll let him off for tonight.”

He’d dipped to kiss your cheek as he’d walked in through the threshold, passing a bottle of whiskey to you, “If you set that in the freezer it’ll be nice and chilled for something to drink after dinner.”

Once the flames have died down and the coals are embers, you watch Tommy set the chicken skewers on the grill. You head inside and pull your sides out of the fridge, cutting slices of bread. There’s a tiny amount of butter left which you also pull out, setting everything on the table outside, watching as Ellie’s eyes bulge at foods she’d never experienced before. You smirk at her, whispering that she’s welcome to try anything she wants but to make sure Joel doesn’t catch her, sure that he’ll chide her for her manners.

You go back inside and pull another plate out for Tommy to set the cooked meat on and fill two tumblers of whiskey for the two of them, setting them on the empty plate to take them down to the men.

“It never fails to amaze me how much cooking on fire takes you men back to the dark ages.” You joke, holding the plate out for Joel to take a glass, which he does gladly, neither him nor Tommy enjoying Shane’s homebrewed beer much by the looks of it.

You hand Tommy the plate once he’s taken his own glass, “Didn’t Sarah always used to say the same thing?” Tommy asked, Joel nods in agreement, “Somethin’ about being cavemen.”

You laugh and leave them to it, heading back to the table where Maria and Ellie are talking together. As you sit down you can tell that Ellie is attempting (and failing) to get Maria to let her try her wine.

“You don’t want this, trust me,” You smirk, sitting down on the chair next to her, “I’ve been drinking my entire life and it’s already going to my head.”

You make polite conversation around the table for a little while until Tommy is walking towards you with a plate full of grilled meat. He sets it down before he sits down next to his wife, Joel taking the other unoccupied chair opposite you. Within moments, plates are full and you’re all eating in silence.

Joel watches you intently as you cut a slice of steak. He watches as your eyes close and your head tilts back a little until a little groan falls from your mouth. He can’t stop his brain from thinking how much he’d like to be the one making your eyes close and your head tilt back like that. God, he really was getting old if a singular glass of whiskey had him thinking like this. He drags his gaze from you back to his own plate of food, so you don’t catch the darkening of his eyes.

“Tommy, Jesus Christ, I haven’t had steak like this in so long.” You’re praising his brother, breaking off a slice of bread to dip into the dripping that’s come from the resting steak.

Everyone is silent as you make your way through the rest of the meal. Once you’ve all eaten your fill there’s less left that you thought there would be, everyone obviously making the most of the rare luxury of meat.

Ellie insists that although you’re all fit to burst, you have to try a slice of apple pie and you’re thankful you did. She’d done an absolutely fantastic job of it on her own and you couldn’t help the swell of your heart as she’d grinned when you told her it was just as good as the one you’d made together, backed up by everyone else around the table.

Maria and Ellie do the dishes together, packaging up leftovers for everyone to take home with them for the next day as Joel and Tommy start a small fire on the grass of your garden in a small drum that you don’t dare ask where he got it from. You tell Ellie about your days camping with your dad, toasting marshmallows and getting sticky when you tried to pull it off the toasting stick.

You drink whiskey for the first time in ages as you swap stories across the fire and you can’t help but smile. You love this little bunch of people, the five of them, sat around, keeping you company, making everything seem just that little bit easier.

You glance to your left a little while later, Ellie is asleep, resting her head on her hand. The conversation has lulled a little, Maria and Tommy are holding each other’s hands, glancing at Ellie too.

“I think I’m ready to call it a night,” Maria speaks, “We’ll take Ellie back to yours Joel, you stay here and finish your drink.”

He’s just poured himself another glass of whiskey from the bottle and is cradling it in his impossibly large hands. He nods, gently waking Ellie to tell her that Maria and Tommy will walk her home and he’ll be back soon once he finishes his drink. She doesn’t argue, standing up with a yawn.

“Thanks for today,” She says to you, bending down to your chair to give you a quick hug, “I’m glad you liked the pie.”

You smile at her and say that you hope you’ll see her soon, bidding her a goodnight. She gives Joel a hug too, telling him not to stay out too late because he’s an old man. He snorts but agrees he won’t stay long.

Maria and Tommy also give you a hug, insisting that you stay put instead of standing. And then they’re all gone and it’s just you and Joel sat around the fire. It’s quiet, the silent never uncomfortable between the two of you.

“Can I ask a question?” You ask quietly, once the silence becomes too much, looking down at the glass of whiskey in your hands.

The fire is warm, even if its flames have died down. It’s casting a gentle orange glow across Joel’s features which makes him look soft, even more welcoming than normal.

“Of course you can.” He replies, sipping his own drink.

“How long did it take for you to feel okay again?” You can’t look him in the eye, can’t look at him altogether, it’s a personal question, one you never thought you’d feel okay asking, but the wine and whiskey have made you brave, “You know, after Sarah?”

He’s silent for a long time. Long enough that you wonder if you’ve upset him. You’re about to open your mouth to apologise for overstepping a line when he speaks, “It wasn’t time that did it,” He answers, thinking back to the last time he’d said those words, it’s still true, “It’s more about what I found that made it easier.”

You’re running a finger around the rim of your glass trying to distract yourself but you can feel his eyes on you, “It never goes away, not really,” He sighs, “Not to make you feel even worse about things, but it shrinks a little, until you can remember all the good things about that person, instead of how much it hurts that you don’t have them anymore.”

“What was it like for you?” You look at him now and fuck he’s pretty. No amount of grief would deny the way your stomach flipped when you see him in this moment. The flickering orange light of the flame illuminating the shadows of his face, his eyes are darker than normal, and you think you might just drown yourself in them if you look any longer, “What was your grief like?” You look away, trying to ignore the lump in your throat.

You watch as he leans his elbow on the arm of the chair, resting his fingers on his mouth as if he’s contemplating what to say to you, “I couldn’t see the point of life without her anymore,” He speaks softly, “Sarah was gone, the world was gone, so what was I still doin’ here, you know?” You nod, because you do know. You know all too well. “In those first few days after I tried to kill myself,” You let in a sharp inhale of breath, which he doesn’t acknowledge, “I was ready, I wasn’t scared, but I flinched, and for twenty years I always wondered why. Why did I flinch when I pulled that trigger?” He’s silent again for a while and you want to reach out and offer your hand to him, but again, you don’t, you keep it in your own lap, “I guess what I’m tryin’ to say is that it won’t always break your heart, but I think you already know that,” You nod in agreement as you close your eyes, “You’ve just gotta find the next thing worth livin’ for.”

You want to tell him you’re sorry, but when had that ever helped you? No amount of sorry from anyone was going to bring your respective people back. You’d always thought that saying sorry was a cop out anyway. Something someone said when they didn’t know what else to say, so you didn’t.

“You know, it never even crossed my mind.” You muse, mostly to yourself than anything else.

“What didn’t?”

“Killing myself,” You reply almost immediately, “I think now that it would have been the easiest thing, I could have been with him, I wouldn’t have been here to listen to everyone gossip about me, I wouldn’t have spent a year of my life practically locked in my house, but it never once crossed my mind.”

“You wanna know what I think?” He asks, watching you as you nod, “I think that’s because deep down you knew you’d be okay, whether you realized it or not,” He’s reaching for the nearly empty bottle of whiskey to top his glass up, “I know it hurts, sweet pea, trust me, but you’ll know what love is again someday.”

It’s such a striking thing for him to say that it catches you completely off guard. Outside of the handful of times this evening that you’ve caught yourself thinking of how utterly beautiful a man Joel Miller is, you’ve never thought about finding someone else. Mark was meant to be your one and only, you’ve vowed to each other that was the case, signed your names on a piece of paper to the same effect. ‘Til death us do part. It’s silly but when you’d uttered those words to Mark, you’d always imagined dying together. Old age, hands held, drifting off together. In reality it hadn’t been old age, but you’d held hands, right until the bitter end, but then you were left here, all alone, and he was gone.

“You know those romantic movies we used to watch before?”

“You used to watch.” He interrupts, a small smile on his face.

“Alright, those romantic movies I used to watch,” You let out a little giggle, “Whenever someone died before their time, they would inevitably get just the right amount of time to tell the person they loved that they wanted to move on?” Joel nods that he knows what you’re talking about, “I guess I’ve always thought I needed his permission, not really just to find someone else, but to move on and live my life again.”

“Did you need his permission for much when he was around?” He asks.

You shake your head, “He was always so laid back, even when we were on our own out of the quarantine zones, we were a team, but we understood each other, understood what we both needed, so no, not really.”

Joel speaks without a pause, “Then you just need to ask yourself for permission then.”

Silence falls between you both again. You’re staring at the flames in front of you and draining your glass of whiskey. It was never your favourite, you didn’t like the way it burnt on your tongue or the feeling of it settling in your stomach, but like anything in this world, it was the case of any port in a storm. Joel follows suit and drains the last of his drink.

“I should really be gettin’ back,” He speaks softly, “But thank you, for today, it’s been one of the nicest days I can remember.”

You both stand up, Joel taking the empty glasses and you taking hold of the whiskey bottle with the last bit of amber liquid in the bottom. He walks in front, stopping to drop the glasses in the sink which you insist you’ll wash up yourself. You set the whiskey bottle on the side and follow him to the front door.

He pauses before he can turn the handle and open the door and you wonder what’s going on. Joel is the kind of man who is always sure of his actions, never falters, but his hand is outstretched and he’s not moving. You’re leant against the wall on one shoulder at the bottom of the stairs that lead to the top floor of your house when he turns back around to you.

“I think he’d want you to be happy, sweet pea,” He breathes, “You have too much love in here to not give it to anyone else.” His fingertips are brushing the space between your breasts where your heart is, and you wonder when he got so fucking close to you.

You look up and he’s looming over you, those beautiful brown eyes looking directly through yours and into your soul. His hands are cupping your cheeks. Those rough and calloused palms are warm against your skin which had cooled in the evening air. You can’t quite believe it but you’re tilting your face up towards him and he’s leaning his down towards yours and before you know it, his lips are pressed to yours so softly you might cry. You can sense his hesitation but as your eyes flutter closed, you’re pushing yourself onto your toes to press your lips more firmly to his.

And then it all comes crashing over you. The moment you close your eyes, it’s not Joel’s face in your mind, it’s Mark’s. It’s his hands cupping your face, they were softer than Joel’s. It was hit scent you could remember through your nostrils, not the smoke and musk you could smell of Joel. Your hands are fisting the lapels of his jacket as you pull away, pulling in a sigh as he rests his forehead against yours before pulling himself away. He’s still close enough that your hands are still on his jacket, but he’s dropped his hands from his face.

“I’m sorry, Joel,” You whisper, shaking your head, “I can’t.” Is what you murmur.

He drops his head and steps back from you, making your hands drop from his jacket, he’s turning on his heel and heading to the door with a mumbled apology.

“Joel!” You call out before he has chance to shut the door behind him, he turns and faces you, “I’m not saying never,” You confess, “Just not right now.”

You watch as a flash of hope appears on his face and he’s giving you that signature lop-sided smile, “I’ll wait, sweet pea.” And then he’s gone.

It’s late and Joel can’t sleep. He’s been tossing and turning since he got into bed an hour ago, replaying the events of the evening in his mind. He’s trying to blame his irrational choice to kiss you on the whiskey, but he knows it isn’t true. Every day he’s seen you since you sat down and ate strawberry pie together, he’s wanted to kiss you. Wanted to kiss the sadness and the grief out of your body and put you back together again. It had nothing to do with the whiskey and everything to do with you.

The way you’d asked him about his own grief, so quiet and unsure as to whether you were overstepping a line. The way you’d listened to him talk about wanting to end everything but didn’t offer an apology or the look in your eyes that told him you felt sorry for him. The way that every time he spoke to you, you opened up a little bit more, let him in a little more. Hell, even the way you’d winced at every mouthful of whiskey. It was all you. And it had been a dumb fucking decision.

He could hear the break in your voice as you’d told him you couldn’t, like you were afraid of letting him down. He couldn’t stop thinking about how you’d said, ‘Just not right now’ and his stupid smile at your words. He didn’t want to push your boundaries this much, didn’t want you to think you owed him anything. He just wanted to make you less miserable.

He runs a hand over his face and grumbles to himself. He knows sleep won’t find him now. His head won’t shut up and all he really wants to do is run to your front step and tell you he’s sorry, that you don’t have to make him feel better by telling him to wait if you don’t mean it. He’ll never forget the spark of electricity down his spine when your lips touched him, or how he craved to push his whole body against yours when your hands had pulled at the lapel of his jacket, but he doesn’t need you to feel like you must want him back.

If only he knew that you were led in your own bed, a few streets over, in a similar state of insomnia. Led in your bed, staring up at the ceiling, wishing that Mark’s face hadn’t been at the forefront of your mind when you’d closed your eyes. That’s what does it, what fills your body with panic. That you wished for the first time that you didn’t think about him. You’d wanted it to be all Joel, consumed by him, you didn’t want Mark’s face in the back of your mind.

Tears roll down your cheeks and onto your pillow. Your brain is telling you that soon enough he won’t be there. You keep wishing he wasn’t, and he won’t be, you’ll forget about him, forget the shape of his body against yours, the sound of his voice in your ear, and surely that’s not right. Surely you should always want to remember him. Your first love, your first everything, really.

Joel was a good man. One of the best you’d ever had the pleasure of knowing, and he didn’t deserve someone who wasn’t able to give their all, someone who would always close their eyes and see their dead husband. You couldn’t make him wait for you, but could you let him go? Could you let Joel go? The man who had fixed your rotted porch step just because he didn’t want you to hurt yourself. The man who didn’t push you for insight into your grief, just stood there and let you be, letting you share when you were ready. The man who had been through the same kind of loss as you and had been walking around for the last twenty years knowing he failed at ending it all.

You run a hand over your face and decide that no, you couldn’t let him walk away, but you weren’t quite ready to let someone in like that. You needed to speak to him, to lay all your cards on the table for once, and that scared the shit out of you. It was time to put your big girl pants on and face the music.

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miu-senpaii · 9 months

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Stick Together | Shane x depressed!Reader Oneshot

TW: Mentions of depression, suicide (it is our angsty boi we talking about), reader smokes

You've always felt like a rock floating through empty space. Despite being surrounded by people and welcomed into a caring community, you've never felt more alien and alone.

Everyone else had dreams, desires, hobbies, people to go home to, a purpose in life. Something to live for. What did you have? Nothing except misery, exhaustion, and pain. They were like comets that occasionally collided with you on their path to some faraway planet, meanwhile, you are left there falling deeper and deeper into a bottomless void.

Each day felt like dragging your feet through quicksand. With each step you took, you only sunk deeper into the pit of depression. There was a perpetual emptiness in your chest. You hated that you were drained of everything--your energy, your motivation, your happiness. Even getting up each morning has become such a chore that there are days you wish you could just rot away into the Earth.

To others, your statements seemed ludicrous. Why can't you just stop being lazy and do something? Don't we all feel sad some days? Why can't you just be happy?

You gave up on explaining. Gave up on trying to be heard. Gave up on the hope that someone someday would understand how you feel.

You built up walls around yourself. You hid your pain behind a beaming smile and outgoing personality. Despite being polar opposites on the outside, you felt like you were looking into a mirror the moment you saw Shane. You recognized the facade: his cold exterior and dismissive attitude, his blunt responses, his drinking habits, his messy appearance, and his avoidance of talking to others were all ways to shut people out. This was his defense mechanism, a wall he put up to hide his true emotions. You could sense the hurt and vulnerable man underneath his hardened expression and narrowed gaze--a feeling you understood all too well yourself.

It's funny how birds of a feather flock together. Over time, an unspoken mutual understanding formed between the two of you.

On the docks late at night, there was Shane, drowning his sorrows through piles of emptied beer cans, and you, with smoke in your breath and cigarette butts littered at your feet. Few words were exchanged, with the exception of an occasional remark or two about how life sucked, followed by a nod in agreement. Neither of you felt the need to make conversation when each other's silent company spoke more than enough. Through these late nights, a shared sentiment lingered in the air: Let's keep trying tomorrow.

Your relationship with Shane might seem strange to an onlooker, but in your own special ways, the two of you were always there for each other.

When you heard that Shane was missing, you desperately searched for him in the pouring rain, chest tightening at the thought of what Shane might have done. Your heart shattered when you found him collapsed on the ground near the cliff, his tears mixing with the rainwater. You wordlessly kneeled down on the muddy ground, holding him in your arms as you both sobbed, releasing all the agony you had kept inside for so long. It hit you like a truck when he asked why he should even go on, as that was a question you had been asking yourself all these years. You couldn't pledge that things would get better, only that you would be there to support him through whatever he was struggling with.

When Shane showed up at your door the next day after recovering in the hospital, you had thrown your arms around him, and he returned the gesture. That day, a silent vow was exchanged: No matter how bad life got, you always had each other.

Shane did end up returning the favor a few months later. The waters had tempted you with the promise of eternal sleep, freed from all the burdens and pain in your life. Before you could sink into the bottomless abyss, strong arms pulled you up to the surface. You noticed Shane's heaving breaths, his thumping heart, and his glossy eyes as he pulled you into a tight embrace. That day, there was a mutual realization that you needed one another, and needed to change for the better because of that.

It's ironic how two people without a reason to live became each other's reason.

Both of your lives changed dramatically in the following months. You joined Shane in his therapy sessions. You both agreed to help one another cut back on your unhealthy coping mechanisms. You had bought sparkling water and Joja Cola in bulk so that whenever Shane was tempted to pour himself a cold one, you replaced it with a non-alcoholic beverage. Meanwhile, when you found yourself itching for a smoke, Shane would take away your cigarette and pop a lollipop into your mouth. As a plus, your kisses also tasted a lot sweeter when there was no longer the stink of cigarettes in your mouth.

You had both grown to be much happier. Shane found his calling raising chickens, which was something you found quite cute. On the other hand, you had found fulfillment working on your farm and even began to enjoy your old hobbies again.

Neither of you was perfect by any means. There were still days when you felt like you were sinking in quicksand, sometimes only down to the ankles and other times all the way up to your neck. Except, now you were no longer traversing through it alone. With Shane by your side, you were confident that he be there to pull you up as would you for him. Together, you would keep pushing forward in hopes for a better tomorrow.

#stardew shane #stardew valley shane #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley x farmer #stardew valley #stardew valley fanfiction #stardew valley fanfic #sdv #sdv shane #sdv x reader #sdv x farmer #sdv fanfic #stardew shane x reader #sdv shane x reader #sdv bachelors #stardew valley bachelors #tw depressing stuff #stardew valley oneshot #sdv oneshot

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deansapplepie · 5 months

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Till THE DEAD do us part |Chapter 13

A/N: This story will take place in all the seasons, but it’s not exactly a rewriting cause I’d have to re-watch everything to use the exactly lines of the characters, also I think it’s better if I tell a side story without changing the main facts of the story. This story has a Female Reader, but I don’t describe her appearance, so anyone can identify with her.

Chapter 12 Chapter 14

Series Masterlist Main Masterlist

Chapter 13: This group’s broken

Summary: Randall is still a problem the group needs solve and come to an agreement about. The happenings of the barn is still something shaking some people. Feelings and traumas from the past comes to haunt Y/N making her anxiety boil and overthink a lot.

Warnings: swearing, angst, death, mentions of violence, gore, suicide attempt (not narrated, but mentioned), mentions of depression, mentions of torture, mentions of execution, traumas, anxiety, mentions of abusive relationships, fear of abandonment, brief discreet mentions of sex, loss, grief. Minors do not interact.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Grimes!Reader (Rick’s Sister)

Word Count: 5,834

Extra notes: I proofread the text, but English is not my first language, so feel free to correct any mistakes, of course with love. Also, there’s a bunch of warnings in this one but there’s also fluff, comfort and a bit of fun.

Finally Randall’s leg was well enough so he could survive alone in the wild that was Earth now, so Rick and Shane would carry him miles away from the farm and release him. You weren’t very happy about Rick going alone with Shane.

“Let me go with you, please.” You pleaded Rick for the millionth time, Shane wasn’t someone reliable anymore, you couldn’t risk losing your brother again and have Shane coming back with some lame excuse how he made for Otis.

“Y/N, I’m the one here with self defense skills, not you. I can handle myself well without you. I need you here.” Rick said, and that would be the last time he would tell you, he was losing his temper already. “No discussion.”

“Be careful, please. He’s dangerous.” You hugged him and gave him a kiss on his cheek.

“I’ll be, don’t worry. I need this time alone with him. I’m coming back.” He assured you and hoped it would really turn out like this, because you could see the madness in his eyes, and by how we was obsessed with Lori… you didn’t doubt he would be able to do atrocities even to his ‘brother’.

After they left, you couldn’t get rid of the uneasy feeling you had on the pitch of your stomach. You were going to help around in the farm and in the house, but your mind couldn’t stop the worry. You were giving the horses water when you heard a knock on the stables door, you look to your side and you saw Daryl. As much as the idea of scaring you was tempting enough, he chose not to do so.

“Just wanted to let ya know I’m gonna hunt, maybe bring somethin’ good.” He approached you.

“Ok, be careful, please and don’t come back late. I’m already worried enough by Rick.” You said, then looked both sides and didn’t see anyone around. You tiptoed and pecked his lips.

He blushed, he had been doing way more than this with you and he blushed because you gave him a small kiss inside a stable where the only witnesses were the horses. He knew you were worried about Rick being alone with Shane, things between you and Shane had gone bad since the day of the happenings of the barn and it was just going down. When Daryl told you one night that he thought Shane had killed Otis, things spiraled really quick and you started seeing Shane with different eyes, many attitudes from him made sense actually. He wasn’t the person that you used to know anymore.

“Dun worry. Rick’s tough, he basically came back from the dead, nothing bad is happening to him.” He said, he could practically read your mind and know everything you were thinking about it.

“And you?”

“Me too. I’m gonna be careful. I promise, I’ll be back in one piece.” He gave you a quick kiss, you said your goodbyes and you went back to your chores.

Lori was inside the house helping with the chores and also helping Maggie taking care of Beth. She was still not good, she was in a state of depression that got all of you worried. Lori was preparing a lunch for Beth, so you were around the kitchen with her and Maggie. Maggie was talking about Glenn with Lori, you decided to not participate of the conversation, but you were listening to everything. Lori was more experienced on the topic of relationships, you knew what was good or not, but just theoretically. Until now you had had just one boyfriend before Daryl and it was a shitty experience, so you didn’t know if you had something wise to say even though you were older than Maggie. You thought it was a bit too much when Lori said that Glenn should man up, imagine saying it to the young man, he would be sad or really offended, or both.

“Glenn is just scared, he’s a good guy. You’re probably his first love, I can’t say it for sure, but that’s what it seems. He’ll overcome this fear of him. Don’t worry.” You passed an arm on Maggie’s shoulder and gave a little squeeze on her arm to reassure her.

“And how about you and grumpy man? Have you already said the words?” She elbowed you playfully.

“Hmm… no. Not exactly. I don’t know if it’s like this.” You said, you were always reserved about your personal matters, always keeping everything to yourself, afraid to let people know your feelings or to be exposed and feel weak. But maybe, some girl talk wouldn’t be that bad. “He said the other day I was his and I also said it to him…” You paused thinking if you’d say the other thing that came to your mind to them.

“And…?” Lori asked. “We know there’s more. Spill it.”

“He… he said that his… you know… was mine.” You blushed instantly talking about it and thinking about it. Was it correct to tell such thing to others? You never knew what was ok, and what wasn’t, but it’s not like if you were telling all the sordid details of what you two did.

Lori made a face as if she was thinking ‘wow, the man really have some balls’ and Maggie just had a fit of giggles, giving you a side hug and squeezing you. “It’s almost the same thing as saying that 3 words.” Maggie observed.

“It isn’t, this is possessiveness which is normal in relationships even the healthy ones. But anybody can have this without love.” You told Maggie, she was young, probably didn’t have unhealthy relationships she wouldn’t know. You were maybe 8 or 9 years older than her, it was a different experience, especially with broken people.

“Well… everybody can see, but we can’t stop you from being stubborn. I need to go help Glenn, but if you need anything you can call me.” She said and then turned to Lori. “Thank you so much for helping with Beth.”

“It’s nothing really.” Lori said and got the tray to give lunch for Beth.

You stayed at the house and helped Lori at the kitchen, you washed some dishes and cleaned and organized the room. After one hour or so, Lori went to Beth’s room to get the tray back. She came back with untouched food, Beth couldn’t continue like that. When she was throwing away what Beth didn’t eat, she suddenly stopped and ran from the kitchen.

“What happened? Lori?” You asked her, but she was already gone. She came back a knife in hand and in a rush.

“Go and Keep an eye on Beth. I’m gonna bring Maggie or Hershel.” She said and left.

You left the kitchen and went to Beth’s room, on your way you put the pieces together and realized Beth had hidden the knife and was probably going to attempt something against herself. Soon Lori arrived with Maggie and Andrea, Maggie asked to be left alone with Beth and all of you went back to the kitchen.

You were trying to be in good terms with Andrea again, so you decided you’d try not to talk back at her when she said stupid things, even though they were talking about Beth. You just stayed there watching while they talked Andrea thought Beth should make her own choice, which is very different from what happened with her. Beth is just a kid and she’s not dying because she was bitten, so why let her commit suicide? She should be talked to and taken care of to help her get better. You bit your tongue trying to not express yourself, but you just couldn’t contain it when Andrea brought up the fact that Lori had her husband back, her child was saved, she had a baby on the way and had a ‘boyfriend’. And Andrea had to finish bringing you up in the middle of the thing, did you disagree with her? Yes. But did you say anything about it? No, just on your mind. So why bring you to the discussion?

“And you…” She pointed at you startling you at the suddenly call. “You have your brother, your nephew, a new nibling on the way and you’re fucking Dixon like rabbits, you would never understand.”

“Andrea, are you serious? I wasn’t even in the discussion. Why do you always involve me in your shit? You don’t get to speak like this to Lori, we had a lot of blessings, but we also suffered like everyone else. Do you think we were happy the whole time we thought Rick was dead? Or that it didn’t cross our minds that Carl was going to die? You think we didn’t suffer because of Amy, Jim, Jacqui, Sophia or all the others lost we had along the way?” She said everything she wanted to Lori and now she was going to listen to you. “And why do you mind who I fuck? You’re fucking Shane, and nobody told you a word. Mind your own business.”

You almost didn’t stop to breath while the words just came out of your mouth like a waterfall. “I wasn’t going to say anything regarding Beth, but she’s only sixteen. She’s a kid, we have to protect her and try to help her get better, and not encourage the way out. Andrea, I think we’re never going to be in good terms again, there’s no way. You’re not the same anymore.”

You left the house and went back to the camp, finding Carl and Luna playing with a stick. Carl had been acting colder and colder in the last days, it was good to see him being a kid, even if it was for a brief moment. You played a little with them, but to be honest you were still nervous about Andrea and worried about Beth.

After 30 minutes, maybe one hour, you didn’t know exactly, you heard a commotion in the house. You told Carl to stay there and ran to see what happened. When you arrived to the source Lori and Maggie had just opened the door to the bathroom and there was a crying Beth, hand on her bleeding pulse, asking for help and saying she was sorry. You learned Maggie had left Beth alone with Andrea and it was her biggest mistake, because she left the girl alone and God knows what she said to her. Maggie had a fight with Andrea and told her to never again step in the house. You were done, your stress level was up on the sky already.

When it was almost getting dark you saw Daryl coming back, you walked in his direction happy to see him and have an excuse to not be in the camp, hence near to Andrea. You met him halfway, he had some rabbits and squirrels, you knew it probably wasn’t what he really wanted but you were grateful for any meat that he brought back.

“I thought you’d never comeback.” You said walking by his side.

“I said I’d comeback.” He answered and took a quick glance at you. “Jus’ didn’t wanna comeback without something.”

“We’re all grateful to you, bringing meat or not.” You said while you arrived the small camp of yours.

He took everything he needed to start to skin what he brought and clean so it would be ready for consumption. You sat near him observing his work, you never tried, but now you had observed him doing it so much that you’d probably be able to skin something if you needed or wanted to.

“Wha’s wrong?” He asked still concentrated on his job. Once again, you were surprised on how he could know something was not right. “I can see all over ya that somethin’ is bothering ya.”

“Today was a stressful day” You propped your elbows on your knees and rested your face between your hands. You recalled all the situation with Beth and Andrea, and you just wish this day didn’t happen, and it was far from being one of your worst days.

“Wha’ happened?” He lifted his head from his work and took a look at you. You looked tired, everyone was always tired nowadays, but it was not only physical it seemed that your mind was also tired.

“Andrea was a bitch. I swear I tried to be on good terms with her again. And Beth tried the way out, I believe encouraged by Andrea. Maggie left them alone and Andrea also left Beth alone.” You gave him the short story of all that happened. “I should have gone with you.”

“Yeah, ya should.” That was his way of saying ‘I missed you’.

Soon you saw the car in which Rick, Shane and Randall left arriving back in the property. When you saw Rick getting off the car you felt relieved to see him, but apparently they had comeback with Randall. Shit, it wasn’t over. As soon as Daryl finished skinning and cleaning the hunt, you went to to the camp to meet Rick and know what happened.

Once you arrived you saw that Rick had bruises and cuts on his face, no way it was the kid, walkers? No. It was Shane. Damn, he had the audacity to attack Rick. You didn’t even think, you turned around, hot headed and ready to go look for Shane and beat the hell out of him.

“Where d’ya think ya’re going?” Daryl hold your arm stopping you to go anywhere. He knew where you were going, sometimes he could read you so easily that it surprised him.

“I’m going to give Shane hell, nobody gets to touch my brother.” You yanked your arm from Daryl’s hand, just for him to catch you again, holding his arms around you so you couldn’t go. That wasn’t the moment for you to be reckless.

“Y/N, do you think I was just beaten? I also beat him.” Rick reasoned with you.

“Either way, it wasn’t enough, he deserves worse.” You said, still fighting – in vain - in Daryl’s arm.

“Woman, stop. Ya’re being more hot-head and stubborn than me.” Daryl turned you around and hold you by the shoulders. “Look at me.” He commanded, and you looked at him, right in his beautiful blue eyes. “Don’t do anything stupid. He’s uncontrollable and ya know it. If he lays a finger on ya, I dunno what I’m capable of doing and I dun wanna find out.”

“Ok.” You answered and didn’t try to go for Shane, but you still felt like ending him. “Why did you bring the kid back?” You directed the question to Rick.

“He said he studied with Maggie. Which means he knows where the farm is.” Rick ran his hand on his face. “We’ll need another solution.”

The other day, after breakfast, Daryl went to the room where Randall was, he said he was going to talk with him. It was taking a long time for him to return and you were starting to get worried.

“Ok, that’s it. I’m going to see what is taking him so long to come back.” You told your brother.

“Don’t, the kid is handcuffed. There’s nothing he can do against Daryl.” Rick said standing on your way. “I don’t wanna you close to that guy.”

“I think you had said you’d stop treating me like a child, Rick.” You looked at his face and you could see there was something wrong. “Are you two hiding something? That’s it? Now you have secret agreements between both of you?”

Before Rick could say anything, you saw Daryl coming in your direction. Was that Blood on his hand? ‘Holy shit! What the hell have you done Daryl Dixon?’, you thought. He arrived telling you all the information he got from the kid, there were 30 in his group, they were violent and dangerous, they raped women. You followed Daryl to your tent, you could feel he was still angry, so you were thinking about what should be the best approach.

“D. Let me see your hands.” You requested and he started organizing his things to leave and go into the woods.

“There’s nothing to see, I’m good.” He said with some arrows in his hand.

“Daryl.” He ignored you.

“Daryl Dixon.” He ignored you again, stuffing things on his backpack, so you just got close to him silently and yanked his backpack throwing it on the ground.

“What the fuck Y/N?” He shouted at you, now you had his full attention.

“Stop, this shit! I’m talking to you, your hands are hurt! Let me take care of them.” You told him your voice high. He looked at you impatient. You took his hand and guided him to one of the beach chairs. “Sit.”

“I ain’t a dog.” He complained while you made him sit.

“So, why are you obeying me?” You threw back while you picked the First Aid kit inside the tent. You were playing with fire and you knew it.

He tried to get up while he mumbled something in protest that you couldn’t understand. But you were faster than him and pressed his shoulder down so he would sit again. You took the other chair and brought it close to him, sitting in front of him, your legs between his so you could be closer to take care of his hand.

“Gimme your paw, I mean, your hand.” You joked one hand extended on his direction waiting for him to give you his hand. “If I’m a puppy, you might as well be one. Or maybe you’re a Kitten, you are as skittish as one.”

He gave you his left hand very reluctantly, but he knew you would not let him be if he didn’t. You took his hand and saw how his knuckles were hurt, your heart ache by seeing his hand like this, but you also felt uneasy about the young man that was on the other side of his fist. You took some alcohol and wet a cotton swab to pass where he was hurt.

“It’s gonna hurt.” You alerted him, he didn’t say anything. He just observed your small hand holding his and tendering his wounds with the cotton swab, hissing when it hurt too much. “Did Rick ask you to do this?”

“No.” He answered, short… good he didn’t want to talk.

“Did he know about it?”

“Maybe.” He answered eyes on your hands now cleaning the wounds with boric-water.

“Or he did or he didn’t. Gonna take it as he did, he was acting suspect.” You stated, looking at your first aid kit for some ointment.

“Are ya angry at me?” He asked while you passed the ointment on his wounds.

“No, just concerned and upset. Gimme your other hand.” You took his other hand and started to give the same care. “I don’t like both of you hiding things from me.”

“ ‘m sorry, ya dun agree with what I’ve done, do ya?” He asked, head still down paying attention to you.

“Torturing isn’t right.”

“I didn’t have an option, we needed the information about his group.” You cleaned his other hand. “His group… the things he said they did… he’s not someone to be around or for us to let go, he knows where the farm is.”

“So, do you think we should kill him?” You asked a cotton swab passing on his hand.

“Yes.” He said, you were conflicted. You were always taught that killing was wrong, you can’t take life from someone. Unless it’s a walker, of course. Or, if your life is in danger. But execute someone? It sounded wrong, but at the same time… you should think about the group safety. “Don’t ya agree?”

“I don’t know… I think it’s wrong, but I also see that we’re out of better options.” You passed the ointment on his hand.

“Are ya comin’ to the woods with me?” He asked a little apprehensive that you wouldn’t want to be with him because you were upset.

“Thought you’d never ask.” You looked at him and smiled, no way you’d be stuck in the farm again in the middle of all the chaos.

You were having things done to go, when you saw Dale arriving followed by Luna swinging her tail. Dale came to talk to you about the decision of killing Randall, he wanted to know what both of you thought, and of course try to convince you otherwise if you thought the boy should be killed.

“I’m not sure Dale, really. At the same time I think we shouldn’t, I don’t see any other solution.” You said, despite you thought your opinion would not be so important in the end. Dale tried reasoning with Daryl to no avail.

“This group’s broken.” He said, and when you heard that… you couldn’t help but feel bad. Was really your group broken? Did Daryl think the group wasn’t good enough for him anymore? Did he want to leave? Would he leave without you? Would he even tell you if he decided to leave? Was he tired of you?

You were so caught up in your anxious thoughts that you didn’t even saw that Dale was long gone and Daryl was calling you so you could go. “Pup, what’s wrong?” He asked, his hand waving in front of you worried.

“Nothing.” You lied, and he knew you lied. “Let’s go?”

He got his things, you got yours, Luna followed you and you walked silently until you reached the woods. You were open and comfortable with Daryl, you always were and it even annoyed you some times, because you would speak whatever is on your mind, and in your opinion you said things you shouldn’t say. But you couldn’t talk about your feelings, or you tried not to, because of a bunch of insecurities clouding your thoughts. He wasn’t also very comfortable about talking about feelings, so it was understandable, but at the same time he felt uneasy if he didn’t know everything that’s on your mind. He held your hand and it startled you from your unstoppable thoughts.

“Ya lied again.” He didn’t took his eyes from the woods searching for any danger or possible hunt. His voice didn’t change the tone, there was no anger or negative feelings on his speaking.

“I don’t wanna talk about my feelings.” You said looking at your feet attentive to where you stepped, your other hand slightly brushing over Luna’s head.

“But I want to know what ya’re feeling. I need to.” He said, damn… did he sound vulnerable? Was he weak? He couldn’t allow himself to look pathetic and weak, but he also didn’t want to mistreat you. “ ‘m not good talking ‘bout feelings, but I always need to know yers.”

You stopped walking and you turned to him, now holding both of his hands, or more like his hands engulfing yours. “Be honest.”

“Never lied to ya.” He said looking at your face while you were looking down at your hands. “Look at me, please.”

You lifted your head, looking right at his eyes and all you saw was worry. You took a deep breath taking all the courage you had to speak. “Are you…” ‘not happy with me?’ You wanted to complete but stopped mid-sentence. “Do you wanna leave us?”

“Of course not. Where did this come from?” He asked, but before you could answer his mind started to put the pieces together. “That’s because I said the group’s broken, isn’t it?”

“Yes” you said, just that. Unable to say more or add anything else that were running like a tornado inside your mind.

“It wasn’t a lie. I think the group’s broken. Shane’s crazy. Andrea’s reckless and listens to Shane. Carol’s still broken because of Sophia. Glenn… if Hershel decided to kick us from the farm, he’d stay behind and I don’t blame him. This group isn’t like it used to be, not that we were perfect befor’ , we never were.” You took all his words putting everything together and trying to reason what he said. Still feeling uneasy. “Wha’s on yer head?”

“It’s just… when you said it, it seemed like you didn’t care anymore about the group or what happens with it.” You looked at his growing bangs that fell on his forehead, or you wouldn’t be able to say it if you looked at his eyes. “Or…” You paused, no, no, you couldn’t say what you were thinking not at all. You’d scare him, he’d leave you.

“Or wha’ baby?” You looked at his eyes again, and with the worry you saw a softness that you didn’t quite know what it meant. He never called you ‘baby’ outside of the sheets and it made your heart jump and butterflies fly in your stomach.

“Or…” you shifted your eyes to look at your hands, tears threatening to fall. Shit. Why were you so emotional and making a big thing of something this small. “That you didn’t want me and would leave.”

Things had been so good between both of you, that Daryl forgot you still had traumas from your past relationship, traumas that would trigger only when you were in a relationship and could experience things again. And now, was one of those moments. He couldn’t imagine half the shit you’ve been put through so you’d think he would leave you or that he didn’t want you, after he asked you to live with him, after he showed you his scars… after both of you broke so many walls that were built around yourselves.

He let go of your hands and hugged you, you always reassured him when he had his insecurities, now was the moment for him to do the same for you. “I ain’t leaving.” One of his arms was around your waist while the other was in your head bringing your face to hide between his chest and shoulder. “I want ya, and I dun see myself not wanting ya any time soon.”

It was as if a tap was open and the tears that were in your eyes fell making you let little sniffs and hold both hands on Daryl’s vest. “I told Rick, and I’m telling ya now, I ain’t playing with ya.” He didn’t put any names on what you had, he never said ‘I like you’ or ‘I love you’, he didn’t even know how to name what he felt or if he could feel any of those things. But he knew he wanted you, he needed you and he was going to protect you. He had already told you, you were his and indirectly that he was yours, but he couldn’t bring any of those words, these simple words scared him… So he said what he could manage to come out of his mouth. “We’re together.”

You took your face from his chest and looked at his face, he was serious, this wasn’t any sick joke. You should’ve known, you knew Daryl, he wasn’t like that… and you never doubted it. You shouldn’t start doing it now just because you had a relationship. He was not him. He was Daryl and you knew you could trust him. “I’m sorry. I think my period is close, or something…” It was probably something, but you could always blame the hormones, so why not?

He kissed the top of your head tenderly and looked at your face again, now you were better. You looked more like yourself when there wasn’t all those intrusive thoughts and anxiety. “What do ya say I teach ya a little bit of hunting and tracking?” He asked.

“I was waiting for the day you’d offer me this.” You smiled, your hands now resting flat open on his chest. “I’d love if you taught me.”

When it was close to sunset you and Daryl came back to the farm, you didn’t hunt anything as he taught you were still learning so it didn’t go good. He held your hand in his intertwining your fingers and you walked in silence, Luna leading the way in front of you sometimes stopping to wait for your slow asses.

In the moment you arrived at the farm Rick made a call, he was waiting for both of you to make a reunion so everyone could say their opinions about the boy Randall. Everyone except Dale wanted to kill the young man, Dale was extremely disappointed. You still didn’t know what to think about it, but you knew Dale was right.

“I’m with Dale.” You suddenly said and walked to stay by Dale’s side, even though you knew there was no way of winning the vote, you wanted to stay true to yourself. “He’s not his group and as far as we know he didn’t commit a crime that he deserves death penalty.”

You felt like you would combust at any moment just by the stares of Rick and Daryl that didn’t quite understand why you were siding with Dale and not thinking clearly about the wellbeing of the group. Shane also looked at you like you were insane, but you didn’t give a single fuck about it, so it was ok. The others were neutral at you. Soon Andrea also said she was with Dale, but in the end you three weren’t enough to deprive the group from killing Randall.

Everybody left the room to continue their activities, it was getting dark so Daryl, Rick and Shane would take the prisoner to do what they needed to. You were ready to descend the porch stairs when Daryl held your arm slightly and put you aside.

“We need to talk.” He said, and you already knew.

“Is it because I agreed with Dale?” You asked, you knew the answer. “Do you hate me because I disagreed from the group?” All that mattered was that if he would change about you just because you didn’t agree with them.

“Yeah, and I dun hate ya.” Actually it was quite the opposite, but he was concerned about your choices.

“I knew the majority of us would choose his death, my vote would make no difference. So I decided to stay true to myself.” You said, you could see understanding crossing his face by each word you said. “Just because I don’t think it’s right, it doesn’t mean it doesn’t need to be done.”

He nodded at you. “Alright, I ain’t upset. Go stay with Lori while we do this.”

You were with Lori when you saw the three taking Randall to the barn, you held your sister’s hand as a comfort for you. You weren’t going to see the execution, but knowing someone, a human being would be killed in the same place you were was scaring. You were comfortable killing walkers, they weren’t alive anymore, they were just walking corpses. In reality you thought it was merciful to kill the monster that once was a person.

“Don’t think much about it, it’s worse if you do.” Lori tried to calm your nerves, but it was impossible to not think about it.

After some time you didn’t listen to any gun shot and soon you saw Rick and Carl arriving to camp. Wait, Carl? Shit. Shit. Shit. Rick explained that Carl went there to see and that he was encouraging to kill the man. What was happening to the kid? He couldn’t lose himself so quickly like this. Rick wasn’t able to do this with Carl looking, so he postponed the execution.

“Where’s Daryl?” You asked, you saw everyone but him.

“He’s locking Randall again, he’s probably gonna be here soon.” As soon as he finished talking all of you listened to extremely pained screams.

Dale!

You ran in the direction of the screams, Daryl being the first to arrive started shouting for help. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. It was bad. All of you arrived almost at the same time and what you saw was heartbreaking, all his guts coming out of his ripped stomach. No. You cried. No.

“Hershel!” Rick shouted, the only thing he thought was you all needed him there to take care of Dale.

“It’s too late, Rick.” You said, tears rolling down your cheeks. You knew as much medicine as Hershel knew, both of you vets, the old man was just more experienced and have treated more people than you, that had only cleaned T.’s wound and took care of Daryl’s hands. “There’s nothing he can do.”

Hershel arrived and said the same thing, you couldn’t even move Dale. He was agonizing. Andrea pleaded that someone did something. Everyone was in pain by seeing Dale like that. He didn’t deserve this kind of death. Rick aimed his gun at Dale, it was best if someone ended this for him. You turned your back, you didn’t want to see, you had already seen more than you wanted to see. You wait for the gun shot, but before you listen to it there’s a raspy voice. “Sorry, brother.” And soon after Daryl’s voice the sound of the shot.

You were waiting for the shot. You knew it was going to happen, but you jumped at it a cry living your lips. You covered your mouth trying to muffle your sobs. You felt a pain in your chest, everybody felt it. There were cries, sobs and lamenting.

That night you cried yourself to sleep, and it wasn’t a peaceful one, even having Daryl’s soothing presence near you.

Dale was the group’s heart and now you felt like your group were definitely broken.

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