#Jimmy twd
Text
Penance + (knock-off) Ambrosia
still alive, slowpokes :P
When -- during the meal at the Greene's Farm as seen in S02 Chupacabra. After Shame on a plate.
What -- Carol wanted to cook a communal dinner for the Greenes in thanks for all they've done to help your group. Under the weight of Otis' death as well as possibly having to vacate to God-knows-where, the shared meal is tense. Meanwhile, Daryl's busy beating himself up alone in his room and won't eat.
Perspective -- You 2nd, Daryl 3rd
Pronouns -- neutral
TWs -- some language, and a non-descriptive allusion to Shane's actions in Stuck in a damn bed.
Masterlist -- Official one here and Chronological one here
feedback is nice to get :D
Jimmy’s note to you reads: “What’s a pirate’s faverite letter?”
Easy, you know this one!
After double-taking at the typo, you scribble back “aRRRR!” and pass it to where he sits beside you, a smug grin tucked in your face. Only rule is: don’t laugh.
Yo, this table is fun, you’re not even embarrassed about being in your mid-twenties and sitting at the kiddie table. It’s too bad Carl tired himself out earlier, he’d be in stitches!
Oh, come to think of it, that wouldn’t be good, his actual stitches are still healing. So are yours, for that matter…
Anyway, it started off as a silly thing: Not 5 minutes into the meal, Beth had tiptoed to get her drawing pad from the den and wrote “please pass white gravy + pepper?” instead of whispering it, because supper had/has been that darn quiet.
This immediately (and somehow wordlessly) turned into the no-laugh competition you’ve all got going.
Granted, laughing out loud might would make the dinner a little less stiff, but you aren’t certain.
The big table seems rough. They’re barely making eye contact, not really talking, eesh.
Before dinner began, Patricia, Lori, and Carol were chatting as they finished up the cooking, and at the same time there was light discussion as you were helping wash the dishes and set the table with your friends. Even Lori exiting Carl’s room after plainly having been crying didn’t alter the good jibing any, things were chill.
But when everyone came in, sat down together? It got uneasy. When Mr. Greene said the blessing it almost felt too loud.
Now the room is limited to clinking, scraping noises, murmured niceties, and hushed requests to pass things.
You did almost lose the no-laugh game first when Glenn quietly mimicked the way Gollum said “what’s taters, precious?” because you whispered at him to “pass the mashed taters, please?” instead of ‘potatoes.’ Don’t fret, you’d obviously murmured back the only correct response of “po-tay-toes?” as well as the cooking instructions Sam says in the movie.
You almost lost it again when Glenn next decided to break the silence by asking the entire room if anybody knew how to play the guitar. The crickets that followed, hilarious!
Except, Patricia spoke up that her husband had known, and Mr. Greene agreed about how skilled Otis had been.
Boy, did the tension spike.
You’d peeked around to see if Shane was okay. He wasn’t. His expression had taken on that 1000 yard stare sort of deal he’s been slipping into. Scared, lost. Then hard and almost mean.
Something got broke in him real bad that night Otis got killed. It’s scary, especially considering how he snapped at you yesterday and even…never mind, you don’t want to get into it.
At any rate, he made a very serious apology to you earlier today, very serious.
So, yeah, the room turned way more tense after that innocent guitar question, certainly sobered you up right quick. And the strange sensation you’d had after Amy got killed, the one where it felt as if her blood was back on it, it started to come back pretty strong. Granted, it had come back after what happened with Shane the other day, but the sensation revved up. The Otis reminder didn’t help, and at least to you, it made the unspoken understanding of Sophia twist harder, too.
When poor Jimmy got teary when his dad was brought up, you traced a blessing on his forehead and set to scribbling the next dumb joke you could think of on another scrap of paper for him and reminded yourself your hand was clean and that Otis and Sophia’s fates weren’t on you.
As for poor Glenn, once the exchange was over, he looked like he wanted to transform into a chair.
Silver lining was that Maggie helped him feel better; she slipped him a note that must’ve been a really good joke because Glenn seemed giddy as a schoolboy as he wrote down the punchline or whatever.
‘Schoolboy’ is definitely the best term — Mr. Greene and Dale happened to see Glenn sneaking back his response and were staring at the folded paper in his hand.
It’s kinda silly, right? Not only were you, Margaret, and Glenn sat at the kid table, but you were also acting like kids, what with the note-passing. Caught by the principal lol.
In the moment, you’d figured might as well, and so scribbled in big letters on the back of the notepad itself: “Too quiet, so we pass notes!”
When you held it up to the two of them, Dale read the words, swallowed a smile, then mouthed "troublemaker" to you.
As for Mr. Greene, his expression was, per usual, unreadable.
That was, what, all of 10 minutes ago? And it’s still a quiet, tense meal.
Maggie didn’t taken the note from Glenn out her pocket to share it. A part of you hopes it’s something sweet, therefore private.
Right now, you’re staring at your plate and thinking on how you’ve already got helping #2 on your plate. It makes you wonder if the quiet in the room, tense as it feels, might could be related to the food?
’Cause yo, it’s been so long since a hot meal this good!
Even the heartbreak about Sophia isn’t enough to stop the cravings from going into overdrive (not true, actually, but the meal is great, is what you mean)—and Carol orchestrated the dinner, anyway. She’s in a place where even she can eat, so…
Wiping your hand on your napkin again (and again), you take another sip of water, and fidget with your fork and knife.
God save you, you want to go hog wild on the food and shove it all into your mouth in one fell swoop, so, maybe everyone else is also extra quiet to focus on eating politely and not stuffing it all in their face like half-starved hamsters, too.
That’s a nice thing to imagine, rather than it being gonna-get-kicked-off-the-property-and-we’re-very-sorry-Otis-is-dead-and-are-we-allowed-to-enjoy-things-when-Sophia-is-probably-dead? tenseness.
Because the food really is so yummy! And there are potatoes! Carol was so thrilled to find out they have potatoes! And there’s dairy! Therefore butter and cream and milk — hallelujah!— oh, you did a happy dance the second a forkful of the mashed taters touched your lips!
Back to the present, as you set to crafting an unnaturally large bite featuring a taste of everything from your plate, Jimmy is reading your response to his pirate joke while — grinning wide and shaking his head?
Then, you see as he scratches with the pen again on the note in his lap and hands it back to you.
Is not a pirate’s favorite letter R? What other letter could it…
You keep chewing your enormous mouthful while you open the folded note.
It reads, “aRRRR? Nay, ‘tis the C!”
…
…
OH MY GOSH—
___________________________
Him
___________________________
A familiar laugh belted out from down the hallway where they was all doing dinner. This was followed by couple seconds of silence even more dead than the dinner already sounded.
But after that? It was as if a dam had burst and carried in pack of hyenas who quickly overtook the dining room. He next thought he heard the word “pirate,” but that made no sense. A few minutes later, the hyenas seem to have left, judging by how shit got all quiet again.
That is until another noise, this time suspiciously moan-like, called out from the dining room. Within a second or two, he heard the food’s praises sung, T-Dog leading the charge, and, well, the din stayed put after that.
One, big, happy family.
Minus one missing little girl.
Daryl hadn’t touched his plate yet, hadn’t moved from his spot on the bed. Didn’t feel like eating.
How those dickbags was having a dinner was beyond him at that point.
The search today was a bust, yet again. The neighborhood T-Dog’s group went to check was mostly burned down, and the highway spot set up for Sophia was still untouched.
Carol’s words to him wouldn’t shut up, neither — and why in the hell she gave him a kiss on his head?!
“You did more for my little girl that day than her own daddy ever did in his whole life,” she’d told him.
Can you believe that shit? “You did more for my little girl that day than her own daddy ever did in his whole life.” If failing and getting benched for a week was the best that little girl ever got, she had a piss poor life, and that fact whipped Daryl on the back harder than his own old man ever had.
Speaking of, when Carol brought him his tray, she hadn’t knocked. Meaning, Daryl hadn’t had time to pull the sheet over his shoulder before she walked in. His shirt had been off.
Daryl’s hope was that it’d been dark enough in the room that she wouldn’t see the scarring, just the tattoos. He felt like a goddamn lazy idiot — he hadn’t felt like putting his shirt back on after Patricia checked his stitches, and house got warm from the cooking, besides. And because he didn’t care to slump out of bed and wrench open the window more, he stayed shirtless and decided to simply kick off his blankets.
Joke’s on him.
He could just about hear Merle tell him, “quit wallowin’ like you’re on your period, Darylina.”
Well, Merle wasn’t really there, so Daryl would wallow all he wanted, and think on Carol telling him that he was also “every bit as good as them.”
As Rick, as Shane, as T-Dog, as Glenn, as — who cares, it didn’t matter. Because Daryl was not.
Carol wasn’t the best judge of character, just look at the turd she’d married.
“You did more for my little girl that day than her own daddy ever did in his whole li—”
—A steady knocking sounded at the door, breaking up the echoes of Carol’s words and setting Daryl on edge.
Yup, it was Y/N’s knocking, no mistaking it.
“Just open it!” was the loudest he’d spoken all day. He just didn’t want to be around people, was that such a big ask?
There was a pause before he heard the door open a crack.
“Would you prefer to be left alone awhile longer?” his friend asked softly.
The annoyance Daryl had felt eased and drained off.His whisper was hopefully loud enough for Y/N to hear. “What is it?”
After another pause, whatever they said in response was real quiet and blocked by the door. All Daryl heard was “Red furseh?”
“Y/N, y’can just come in,” he relented. He even bothered to turn toward the door for them, except, his friend hadn’t opened it up yet.
“A-Are you decent?”
Am I…what, did they think he had his hand down his pants? “Yes.”
He watched as the door opened and Y/N (nervously?) looked at him, eyes flitting down along the bedsheet.
Goddamn, his friend really did just worry he had his hand down his pants, didn’t they?
“Are you ready for seconds?” Y/N repeated, relaxing.
Got it, that’s what they’d been asking from the doorway.
Daryl responded by way of a gruff, soft, “Nah.”
Another pause.“Do you feel sick? Or are you,” they tilted their head and frowned again, “‘wallowing’ ain’t the right word — are you beatin’ yourself up, Daryl?”
Yes, somebody has to. “What do you want?” If Y/N could not hit the nail on the head right now, that would be great. He had a bandage on it, after all…
“I’m-I’m asking ’cause the symptoms are usually the same, I mean,” his friend started walking toward the bed as if they was hesitant to do it, “you ain’t even touched your plate, your voice is — for real, sugar, d’you feel sick, depressed, or both?” Saying this, they laid their wrist against his forehead.
“Careful, I got a bandage!” was stupid of Daryl to grunt, because it was coming off tomorrow morning and because Y/N was careful, but he grunted it anyway. Why’d they need to use that pet name??
“There were a whole lot of ways you could have contracted yourself an infection, and, well, y-your shirt is off. Ain’t never seen you do that, um…” They inhaled, then exhaled slowly, and pulled their wrist away. “You are kinda warm, but it is warm in here. Really warm, actually, um, d’you want the window open more?”
Yes, please. “M’fine.” He shifted back onto his side and resumed staring into space.
“Let me do somethin’ for you before I go,” Y/N gently insisted. “Please.” They put a soothing-type tone on. Normally, a tone like that would cause him to feel belittled or pitied, but…he didn’t know, maybe after this week he was used to it. And, he didn’t know, maybe pity wasn’t such a bad thing.
“First, would you like a shirt, or are you good?” his friend asked.
‘Would he like a shirt,’ hell yes, he would like a shirt.
The tugging sensation in his chest came back for a sec. Y/N had a knack for hitting the nail on the head with him. And while the offer was both innocent and loaded, he started to feel as if his soul had been stripped bare-naked in front of them again.
The fact that he’d even let them see his back had been a lapse, a huge lapse. He didn’t know what he’d been thinking.
But, if right now he didn’t act like it was the worst thing, he hated hated hated people seeing, nobody was supposed to see, weren’t nobody’s damn business! a big deal, it wouldn’t be, right?
Which is why Daryl decided to make no effort to cover up more at that moment, so that nothing would seem off. It made his skin crawl to not, it made him feel cornered, but he left the sheet where it was and decided to kick them out.
Yet, strangely, instead of hoarsely grunting at them to 'leave him be' like he thought he was about to, he softly admitted, “Yeah.”
Y/N grabbed the clean, folded shirt and pants that Lori had brought and placed it beside him.“Here’s your pants, too, make it easier in the morning when you get discharged. Miss Patricia will come in and you’ll be all ready!” A nod at his untouched meal. “Want the plate to stay, or go?”
“Take it.”
“Positive? Carol, Lori, and Patricia went ham cookin’ the food. Literally, they cooked some salt ham, but there’s also a little of the fish left that Andy caught for me, if you’d prefer?” They tried to entice him more. “The green beans are fresh, the veggie casserole is creamy, and the mashed taters got fresh butter in ’em? There’s whiteand brown gravy…”
The thought of eating was tempting as hell, he’d give it that. He was hungry and it smelled amazing. Still, he shook his head. The thought of putting a bite in his mouth made him feel sick.
Y/N looked a little disappointed, but accepted his decision with a tiny, forced smile. After a beat, their smile turned real. “You’ll get awarded MVP for not touchin’ your plate tonight,” they teased. “It’ll get shared well. I don’t reckon there’ll be crumbs left at the rate we’re hoovering it all down, I-I accidentally already had thirds. But, um,” they added, biting their lip. “Dare, in a little while, please might can I bring you a bowl of dessert, in the least? You must be terrible hungry by now and you need to eat if you’re gonna heal, hon.”
He just sorta stared back, didn’t know what to answer yet. Them using a pet-name again wasn’t helping none.
This was no problem for Y/N, who seemed to have begun nervous-jabbering. “When I told Jimmy there was dessert, his eyes got all big. I’m not gonna lie, it was so darn cute. But I didn’t ruin the surprise and tell him what it is, I just winked and let him imagine. Do you wanna know what it is?”
His cheeks warmed. “What is it,” Daryl dutifully responded.
“It’s a surprise!” was the completely expected answer. Y/N looked very pleased. “But it involves hand-whipped cream,” they sing-songed.
___________________________
You
___________________________
You haven’t seen anyone’s mood here drop as low as Daryl’s has in the past few days, not since Andrea’s did after Amy died. Not even Shane after what happened to Otis, he’s handling the pain differently.
But just now when you enticed Daryl with the notion of whipped cream, he almost smiled, you saw it!
Victory!
And, before you went to Daryl’s room to see if he wanted more, you’d walked over to the big table and whispered in Shane’s ear that when dessert was served, he should wake Carl to give him a bowl and get “cool uncle points,” and he smiled, too!
Victory!
Why do you feel like you are personally responsible for holding everyone’s shit together?
Like, even at the dinner, after you’d burst out laughing, it felt so good to have eased the tension in the room, even if by accident. Then, when you heard the laughter dying down and the room going quiet again, you felt as if you’d just failed. So, you had to fix it.
Cue you to shove a big bite into your mouth and loudly moan about how good it was in the hopes that saying so would keep the momentum going. And prompt Hershel to accept your people, change his mind, keep your family safe, and keep everyone together because what if you aren’t trying hard enough or doing it the right way and things fall apart? Who’s fault will it be? Why does your stupid hand feel like Amy’s blood is on it again? Dale already explained how it’s ‘self-reproach because of survivor’s guilt,’ so why can’t you shake it off?
Okay, chill out, it’s not all on you. You’re not responsible, you cannot control and fix it all, it’s not all on you.
Surrender it up, and trust.
Offer it up and trust…
Thankfully, Theodore had joined in with your noise of appreciation, declaring, “I second that, mmm-mm!”
Good Moses, you could’ve legit knelt down and pledged him your fealty (or whatever it is squires did for knights in shining armor).
Heck, you were tempted to ignore the age difference and propose marriage to him instead, you were that relieved that he’d gone with it, because it prompted those at the big table to join.
Shane was right there for you, too. “This meal is hittin’ all the marks,” he quietly praised, “ain’t had grub this good in a while.”
Then there was a toast (thank you, Ricky and T-Dog), and things stayed fairly light after that. Light and comfortable.
And only during your last bite, when you noticed everyone else had seconds (…or thirds…), was it that you scrambled off, mid-chew, to Daryl’s room to see what he wanted for seconds and maybe convince him to join everyone.
Instead, you were met with an untouched plate and a man who’s voice could barely raise above a gruff whisper. So, you had to try and fix it, obviously, even if the only thing that would actually fix it is finding the little girl who everyone’s hearts have already mourned.
“Wha’ was so funny earlier?” Daryl just surprised you by asking.
You snort. “We were tryin’ to see who’d break first and laugh — this is at the kiddie table, by the way.”
“Yeah, I figured.”
“Psht,” you play-grumble. “But yeah, I lost the game big time.I’d just taken a very impolite sized-bite of food, too. Ain’t never swallowed a bite that big in my entire life, but I didn’t want to snarf in front of everyone!” Way to overshare, weirdo. “Oh, right, you’ll probably want to know the joke,” you remember. You can get scatterbrained when you’re carrying on. “What’s a pirate’s favorite letter?”
“A pirate’s what?”
“Favorite letter.”
“A pirate’s favorite…” Daryl makes a low, soft hum as he exhales. “Didn’t, uh, wasn’t most pirates illiterate?”
“Bro.”
“I dunno, um, the…P,” is the gem he comes up with.
Bless his heart, has Daryl never heard the ‘arrr’ joke before?
“Why a P?” you’ve simply gotta know.
“P…P for pirate, and peg-leg and um, eye-patch, and, the uh, they got parrots. That’s a lotta Ps.”
The immediate gut reaction you have is the strong desire to gasp with delight and smooch him square on the lips WHAT THE, why did his answer turn you on? Oopsy lol, yeah, gross, no way. You meant to say, um, ah,…?!?
Anyway, you unfortunately end up squealing, “Oh Lord, that was hot.”
It’s fine, you slip in a ‘dude’ right after. “C’mon, dude, what do pirates say? Like the, the sound they make in movies and books?”
“I don’t, uh…Yo-ho…ho?”
That’s now you, belly-laughing, even as it makes your stitches pinch more. “No, the noise they make, like, when they’re mad or tryin’ act all scary.”
Hold the darn phone, is he — good Moses in heaven with the angels and saints, Daryl Dixon is blushing.
He’s gone from plain to red splotches on his cheeks, it’s visible even in the low lighting. The inconvenient butterflies start fluttering around in your stomach again, but this is such an unexpected treat, who cares? Ha!
“No way you’re turnin’ red, nerd,” you whisper.
“Stop,” he grunts in his way, and his eyes are crinkled and his mouth is threatening to grin.
A pleasing shiver travels down when you scrunch your pointer finger into a hook. “Arrr,” you enunciate with spot-on cartoonish flair, if you say so yourself.
His eyes shut when the punchline hits him. “Sonofa—it’s R, then?”
Hot damn, is this joke satisfying. “R? Nay nay, boy, ’tis the C!”
___________________________
Him
___________________________
That he’d gone from wishing he were left for dead in a ditch to laughing out loud in the few minutes his friend was in the room with him…Y/N was something else.
A weirdo, too.
The dessert was ambrosia, by the way, Y/N eventually came back into the room with two bowls of it. “Ambrosia” was a loose term; it didn’t have none of the usual stuff but for the pecans and cream dressing.
“It’s peach, raspberry, wild blueberry and pecan ambrosia with hand-whipped cream — Glenn won’t even know to miss the marshmallows!” Y/N had chirped.
Him telling them it was “knockoff ambrosia” (as a joke) only lead to them pursing their lips, snorting, then immediately going back to happily twittering on how: “Lori hand-whipped it to make it extra special, and Carol added a mite bit of buttermilk to get the tang it needs. Can’t wait to taste how it came out…”
Their little food dance as they took the first bite was cute.
And shiiit, the little moan they made as they shut their eyes and tilted their head back shouldn’t have been enough to turn his thoughts sexual, but yeahhh did it. The cabin fever was apparently messing with his dick, too, great. But why did they say something he did was “hot?” Was it slang for something else, other than what he knew it meant?
“Dare, what do you think?” Another moaned hum. When Y/N opened their eyes, they saw that he hadn’t tasted any. “Oh, Daryl, c’mon and try some? It’s heavenly. I think I’m dyin’, it’s so yummy.”
Nah. As good as Y/N was making it seem, he couldn’t, and so, shook his head.
But then his friend said something that, weird as it was, for some reason hit the nail on the head for him once more. It was as if there Y/N was, seeing his soul bare-naked again.
“If I were your confessor,” they began so casual-like, “other than explaining how accidental injury ain’t sinful, I’d tell you your penance was to eat what’s in front of you.”
Y/N almost took another bite as if in example, but hesitated before the spoon reached their lips. The light expression they wore dimmed and turned serious. “All you’ve gone through this week isn’t divine justice, that ain’t how God operates. It was an accident. Just like Sophia. It, it wasn’t no test or punishment what happened to her. It was just a… a bad thing,” they hushed, eyes fixed on their bowl, spoon. With an empty half-laugh, they mumbled, “Suddenly can’t stand the thought of food, now, neither.”
With that, Y/N put the bowl to the side and didn’t seem to know what to do next other than maybe cry, by the look of them.
Daryl would’ve missed it if he’d gone back to spacing out and wallowing, but from the corner of his eye he noticed them wipe their palm on their knee a few times as if to dry it off.
He recognized what was going on, or was pretty sure, anyway.
After Amy got killed, Y/N had this messed up thing go on with the hand, the one they’d used to try and stop her from bleeding out with. For a few days, it felt to them as if Amy’s blood was still on it and wouldn’t clean off.
Back when Sophia first went missing, he noticed their hand thing came back a little that first afternoon.
“Y/N.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s clean.”
“What is?”
“Yer hand.”
They took an extra beat to respond. “I-I know. It’s dumb.”
“It’s clean,” he repeated, which resulted in Y/N bowing their head. “Ain’t nothing there, Y/N. Lemme see?”
His friend lifted their head back up, raised their hand for him, and shrugged. “Dale says it’s a guilt thing.”
Yeah, he could see that.
“It's not on you to fix everyone’s everything,” he needed to say. Y/N seemed like they didn’t remember that sometimes.
“Ayy, way to come at me with a hammer,” his friend answered with a dry smile. “I know I can’t fix everyone’s stuff,” they spoke carefully, their throat sounded tight. “But we’re called to help, right? After how far things have fallen, we’re called even more now to, to bring, you know, that, that light, to do what we can. And, and,” they stuttered, then took a deep breath. “I dunno. Before all this—did you ever feel like your life was stagnant? Like you was just existing?”
Did Y/N know how well they could hit the nail on the head?
Yes, Daryl felt like his was stagnant, it fucking was, he was a nobody! Didn’t do shit with his life, he’d just…rotted, and fixed up bikes in whatever direction his brother drifted. “Yeah.”
“That’s how I was was for years, too. Kinda floated one day after another, just tryin’ to make it to the next.”
Daryl stayed quiet. Yet again, they’d hit the nail on the goddamned head and he wanted Y/N to keep on talking.
And Y/N did, they kept chatting very matter-of-fact. “It got better, ev-eventually, I um, I got help, and then started forcin’ myself to do stuff, get out in the community, all that. Healed a bit.” They swirled their spoon around the bowl. “It didn’t fix everything boom, like: I still felt stagnant a lot, or like a failure, or that things were all my fault, still sometimes wanted to die,” they shared with a shrug, very chill. “But that’s why we can’t rely on feelings, right?”
The invisible string was tugging Daryl’s whole damn torso toward them at this point and he just wanted to hold them and — shit, sorry, um, he wanted to pat ’em on the back, at least.
“Really, it was when the, um,” his friend bit their lip. “This is gonna sound weird.”
“Prolly, if it’s you we’re talkin’ about,” he ribbed, completely dead-pan.
His friend liked it, and even taunted back all goofy, “sure is, betch,” before their smile fell away. After a beat, Y/N quietly, quietly told him the rest. “It was when the…outbreaks happened, that I-I didn’t have to force it anymore. There was suddenly such a, a, a clear duty, clear sense of purpose, I dunno. Just—so much to do, so much to live for, and,” a big exhale, “so much work to be done.”
That explained a lot. Y/N tended to go hard, burn the candle at both ends, if that’s the right phrase.
In fact, he flat-out said so. “Is that why you push too damn hard to be ‘useful?’”
“Again with the hammer, dude. And, no, it’s—” Y/N found their words. “When you think how w-we, we might could get killed, at any second, any one of us. And how we’ll look back on it all, all our choices, and then answer what we did ‘for the least here on earth’…”
Ah, that checked out, too.
It was something, to see someone still believe in all that stuff after the world fucking ended, he’d give it that.
He used to, too, not that he’d been any good at it.
Didn’t matter, he didn’t anymore. Not after the dead started walking.
“Now, before Teddy materializes in here to scold me, I get that ‘It’s not through our own efforts.’ And the problem I have with feelin’ worthless is a separate issue my faith helps tackle. Now, I know it ain’t about racking up works of mercy or nothin’, but, dude—there’s so much work to do! And I want to do as much as —” Y/N shook their head a few times as if shaking out of it. “Sorry, I-I’ma just quit while I’m ahead, here. Oversharing Olympics.”
“Mm.” Hey, it was. “But that’s part of the deal with friends, right?” he murmured while trying to think of a good way to razz on them. “Means you trust ’em.” Y/N tended to make light about everything, so a tease would do ’em good, right? “It, like, Sunday or somethin’, preacher?”
The tease might’ve missed the mark that time, if he was seeing it correctly.
“Friday,” was all his friend mumbled back, and looked embarrassed as shit. The forced smile they offered in return — it made Daryl’s side ache more, somehow. And the way Y/N then sat there, curling their feet in and looking as if they felt…just about as small as Daryl did?
It was as if the invisible knee to the nards was connected to the invisible tugging string on his chest, because while that knee to the nards got him good, he felt that strange string tug toward Y/N big-time.
It was next, when Y/N stood up and moved to take the dishes out, that something very forceful moved in Daryl that had him sitting himself upright (sort of upright) and reaching for his bowl and spoon (oww) before his friend could get to it.
“It’s still good without the cherries and the marshmallows?”
His friend blinked. “Th-there are some, uh, it’s technically got those mini freeze-dried ones, as an extra-surprise.” They tilted their head, squinting at him in a way not unlike how Rick squinted at shit. “The Greene’s had some hot chocolate packets in the back of the pantry, we separated the marshmallows out.”
“That’s a lot of work,” Daryl commented, scooping a spoonful. Looked real pinkish because of the raspberries.
Y/N next twisted their mouth and almost seemed shy, when they realized what he was about to do. “Eh, it was worth it.”
It made Daryl feel good, seeing them spark up like that. And their shy smile was damn cute, as always.
“Oh, here, try mine if you’re only havin’ a bite,” Y/N asked, holding out their own bowl to him.
“Nah, m’gonna do the whole thing. It being penance and all,” he grunted, then waved his spoon at them. “You, too, go on. Do your penance.”
“My penance?”
“Yeah.” Oh goddamn, the stuff was delicious. “Have a seat, eat up.”
His friend settled on the side of the bed, still looking as if he’d caught them off-guard. They watched him eat for a few moments, and, Daryl had a random, unusual worry that he was eating too sloppy. But holy shit, fresh fruit and whipped cream!
He glanced over mid-scarfing to see Y/N nibbling on (no lie) half a pecan.
“Quit playing with yer food.”
This earned him a small huff and a “I’m savorin’ it.”
“White lies cost a quarter, remember.”
The amount of attitude Y/N next put into their next (and normal-sized) bite was funny. “I’b also sduffed a’ready, banjy hick,” they added with their mouth full.
Don’t smile too big, Daryl. “Penance is penance.”
“But pedaces ca be cobooted.”
Don’t smile too big! “They can be what?”
Y/N apologized, swallowed their food and their giggle, and repeated: “Penances can be commuted.”
“They can travel to work?” was his idea of a dumb joke, and this time it did the trick and he made them burst out laughing a second time.
Y/N broke into a laugh so hard they hinged forward and caused some of the cream dressing to get onto their shirt right before their spoon clattered to the floor.
“Laughing like that still hurts, you butt,” his friend wheezed, pressing their arm to their stitched-up side. They coughed a few times, still giggling, and when they thudded their chest a few times they winced. “Ow, bruise. And Lore just washed this top, too.” Another snort. “My fault for bein’ a sucker for dumb jokes, I guess. ”
“Ain’t nobody’s fault, just an accident,” he got the immediate urge to tell them.
In response, Y/N looked at him with an expression he wasn’t sure how to read, but it wasn’t a bad expression. Then, because that expression made his stomach do more flippy-floppies, Daryl gestured to their bowl again, and Y/N dutifully took another spoonful.
“Dis is so gub,” they hummed softly after taking the bite.
“Damned tasty for knockoff ambrosia,” he had to admit, joining along with another scoop of that damned tasty knockoff ambrosia.
“Do’d even deed dehbigger barshballows.”
Y/N was so fucking cute sometimes. “Or cherries.” He loved the cherries the best, after the marshmallows.
Y/N swallowed their bite.“Or the mandarins.”
“Or the pineapple.” His third favorite part.
“Oh, or the coconut,” Y/N realized, then thought out loud, “Shucks, this is a ‘knockoff.’”
“Tasty knockoff, I’d eat it again in a heartbeat,” Daryl murmured. He couldn’t believe his bowl was already empty. “Y/N, you just say ‘shucks?’”
“Shut up.” His friend play-grumbled. “Y’know, Daryl, this is prolly one of the top five penances I’ve ever gotten.”
“Top five?”
“One time I got ‘buy yourself something nice that you’ll get good use from. It’s okay if it’s a little expensive, it’s okay if it’s a little frivolous.’ Almost a direct quote, that. I’d been bein’ too, um,” they cleared their throat, “the priest thought I was a bit too hard on myself.”
Daryl knew whatever came next had to be something good, based on his friend’s playful little grin.
“That’s how I bought me the PS3. Pre-owned, so it was a solid deal, and it got real good use.” And with a wistful sounding exhale, they finished, “I miss that thing.” Y/N wiggled their bowl at him. “Please help me with this?”
Daryl’s mouth watered. The stuff tasted so good. Fresh, creamy, sweet, tangy.
Y/N raised their eyebrows at him and smiled.
“If I gotta,” he grunted back.
“Thanks for the assist. Plus, it’s penance.”
“Mm, guess I have to." Oh yeah, big scoop. "If it’s penance.”
------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------
-> Masterlist link here <-
and our teeny tiny taglist :D
@spenciepoo338 ; @its-freaking-bats ; @whistlesalot ; @buffy-the-assbutt-slayer ; @dreamingaboutthewonderland ; @kwazii-kat ; @darylsmavis ; @outlanderhornet22 ; @battinsonrobs ; @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable ; @writingmybeloved ; @boomergirl123 ; @iheartathena0 ; @moonliight-luv ; @suniloli ; @supernaturalgirl02 ; @cnake-garden ; @daryldixmedown ; @sophehe ; @crashlyrose ; @virgo-sunflower920 ; @jennythe ; @theficbaker ; @vampireautism ; @rosetta196 ; @wifeof-barnes ; @thegemthatreads ; @olive-branch-witch-library
(inbox is open if you would like on or off the taglist, slowpokes. Please don’t feel bad or nervous if you don’t want to be tagged anymore, just let me know in the inbox! We’re all friends here and your comfort level matters)
#twd#the walking dead#the walking dead fanfiction#twd fanfiction#reader insert#reader-insert#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon imagines#twd daryl#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#carol peletier#hershel greene#Dale horvath#shane walsh#daryl dixon x you#twd x reader#glenn rhee#maggie greene#maggie rhee#jimmy twd#beth greene#theodore douglas#t-dog#rick grimes#Lori grimes#the slowpoke series
33 notes
·
View notes
Text
Norman Reedus as Daryl Dixon on Jimmy Kimmel Live
140 notes
·
View notes
Text
To be honest the dialogue in twd is absolute ass sometimes but the actors deliver their lines with so much conviction that it kinda slips by. You yell that convoluted sentence with your whole cunt, girl.
#this post was sitting in my drafts for months but a line from Fear made me remember it again#''I will do what you tried to do to me only I won't miss''#translation: I will succeed where you failed but I won't fail#yeah bitch the floor here is made of floor#also for context nobody ''missed''. The thing he tried to do was shove him into a room full of walkers#and he did. successfully#he just somehow didn't fucking die or get a single scratch on him#this show is getting way more entertaining as it goes along but it's still stupid#also thinking bout ''we are the walking dead'' ''no we aint'' ''no you're right we aint''#thanks for shitting on Rick's metaphor dude. that was almost poignant.#and ''we got one enemy. we aint the walking dead'' ok slay I guess those two statements were related. vaguely. I think.#sorry kinda roasting Daryl specifically here. He's not the worst offender these are the only lines I can think of off the top of my head rn#also a LOT of the dialogue is interchangable between characters.#Daryl's ''Jimmy'' story in his spinoff was just a Negan monologue. hell Rick could even have told it.#they would have said it differently but again that's down to the actors.#all of this is light hearted ofc#I mean all that really matter is I'm Having A Good Time#twd#ftwd
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
something, something .. new
➡️ i‘m on instagram ⬅️
… and I would really appreciate every like and follow 🤍
#my art#moiraine damodred#siuan sanche#wheel of time#moiraine x siuan#siuanraine#wot fanart#rosamund pike#sophie okonedo#kim wexler#jimmy mcgill#saul goodman#better call saul#mcwexler#bcs fanart#rhea seehorn#bob odenkirk#the walking dead#twd fanart#twd daryl#leah shaw#lynn collins#norman reedus#artistsoninstagram#follow me on insta pls#artbythorod
78 notes
·
View notes
Text
real talk i have so many snippets from fics i started and abandoned on obsessive whims when i got really into something one second and lost it the next second and it's crazy going through my drive
#500 words of glimmadora#2k words of a life is strange nathan x reader fic#it has a jefferson snippet and it creeps me OUT because how did i write that#3k words of tlou joel x reader which im lowkey proud of#a thousand words of percabeth twd au#a thousand words of bcs kim x jimmy#2k words of a wednesday tyler fic#rest in peace one off fics that will never be completed
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
At this point does anyone even care about award shows anymore? Oscars2024 wow JimmyKimmel burned #Trump no one cares about either of you! Kinda feel same about #TheOnesWhoLive
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bracket 5, Round 1
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
A little thing I made because why not?
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
Cash: when you were a baby I nicknamed you ass kicker
Jimmy: honestly that really fits-
#JSJJSJSJSJ stole this from TWD lol#manhunt#manhunt 2003#bully scholarship edition#bully se#manhunt/bully au#James Earl cash#dad cash#jimmy hopkins#bully canis canem edit#bully cce#manhunt ps2#ps2#banned games
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dermatillomania (Daryl Dixon x Reader)
Summary: Dealing with the aftermath of the fall of the Greene Farm in a way your therapist would not approve of.
Warnings: Typical TWD content! Dermatillomania (BFRB's, self-inflicted injury), mentions of death, etc.
Word Count: 719
Era: Follows directly after the season 2 finale
A/n: Just a personal vent... Dunno if anyone else relates.
It hadn't been easy to stop necessarily, but anything other than going cold turkey hadn't really been an option. When you absentmindedly find yourself starting to pick, a quick reminder that it could get you killed is all it takes to shut it down. Most of the time anyways... Tonight though? Oh, tonight you've fallen into old habits so fast and hard that you're stuck there in that state, in the worst session you've had since it all began.
You're tucked away in your own little corner of the ruins and firelight, shadowed enough that no one's really paying attention to what you're up to. At some point, your arms have come out of the sleeves of your coat and it's shrugged loosely around you, leaving skin exposed to the chilly air. You don't notice.
It's all catching up now, all replaying in your mind like the final straw has been plucked. That horrible night at the quarry, the panic when what had been a safe place was so quickly turned into a graveyard. Leaving Jim to die. The terror at the CDC of almost being murdered as a mercy. Leaving Jacqui to die. Sophia... Dale... The farm could've been a safe place, you'd truly believed it until they were somehow just - everywhere. Patricia, Jimmy, Shane... Leaving Andrea to die...
You can feel how it's all too much for your mind to handle, how it's trying to relieve the pressure in this way. It's no good, but your body doesn't know better and you don't know how to make it stop. You can't make any of it stop. Your fingernails desperately search raw skin for any bump, or blemish, or imperfection. They're everywhere. Maybe you'd feel ashamed if bigger and uglier emotions weren't cramming it out of the way.
The cold air cools drops of hot blood on your skin, you can feel it, and yet you feel separate from it simultaneously. Like the same way you breathe without thinking about the breathing part. The fire crackles low and leaves rustle out in the trees as the others hunker down. Nobody's really sleeping though. Not tonight.
Daryl's keeping watch on the perimeter when his eyes settle on you. Your fingers pause in their assault; you can't continue with an audience. Please just look away so I can keep going, some darkness in your mind pleads. But no, you scramble to pull the coat over yourself to conceal the evidence.
"What's this?" He asks, his voice low enough that the others won't really notice.
"Nothing. I'm fine." You can't meet his eyes, shame has finally pushed its way to the forefront now.
You don't try to stop him as he slides the coat off your shoulder, revealing your handiwork. Even in the darkness, you're sure the ugly redness has to be so obvious. You're not only weak, you're weak and stupid.
He pulls your backpack over and digs through it. "Your first aid kit in here?"
You nod once, but that only initiates the tears. What feeling are they from? Anger? Guilt? Fear? This was always the worst part, hating what you've done and wishing for nothing more than to go back and undo it. After everything that had happened... pathetic.
Daryl finds the antibacterial spray and gets to work. His care and surprising tenderness only make you feel that much worse. You were so incapable of handling yourself that you've got a full-grown man treating you like... like the broken thing that you are.
After that he takes a couple of bandages and wraps them around your upper arms, fingers steady and slow. "Leave 'em alone an' let 'em heal. You're tougher than that." He packs up the supplies, helps you fit your arms back into the sleeves, then waits. You're not sure what he expects from you, but then he mimes a zippering motion. You comply and close up your coat. With a single nod, he turns and returns to his watch of the dark surrounding forest.
Maybe you're just thoroughly messed up, but you trade the repeating images in your mind for his words. The past. You have to leave it alone. You have to let it heal. You're here, now, in the present. Alive. You would be tough enough to stay that way. You would.
85 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey could j get transcharacter flags for ( sorry this is a lot )
carl , beth , maggie , glenn ( all TWD )
derpy hooves ( MLP )
azazel , issac , appolyon , lazarus , eden , the keeper ( TBOi )
john ward ( faith the unholy trinity )
Smile dog ( creepypasta )
kenny , stan , kyle , jimmy ( south park )
All in order!!
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
thinking about how the twd and bcs timelines add up meaning the zombie apocalypse would have started while Jimmy was in prison
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
• ──── ⌒⌒⌒︶︶︶︶
WRITE LIST
꒦︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒷꒦‧₊˚・
Español: Lista de fandoms para los que escribo junto con sus personajes
English: List of the fandoms for those who I write along with their characters
TWD (The Walking Death)
︶꒷꒦︶ ๋࣭ ⭑
Daryl Dixon
Rick Grimes
Carl Grimes
Negan Smith
Glenn Rhee
Shane Walsh
Maggie Greene
Carol Peletier
Michonne
Rosita Espinosa
Etc.
꒦ˎˊ˗ ︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶ ꒦꒷꒦₊
Star Wars
︶꒷꒦︶ ๋࣭ ⭑
Anakin Skywalker
Obi-Wan Kenobi
Han Solo
Luke Skywalker
Din Djarin/ The Mandalorian
Ben Solo/ Kylo Ren
Padmé Amidala
Leia Organa
Ahsoka Tano
Rey
꒦ˎˊ˗ ︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶ ꒦꒷꒦₊
South Park
︶꒷꒦︶ ๋࣭ ⭑
Team Stan
Stan Marsh
Kyle Brofovski
Kenny McCormick
Eric Cartman
Butters Stotch
Team Craig
Craig Tucker
Tweek Tweak
Clyde Donovan
Token Black
Jimmy Valmer
And more.
꒦ˎˊ˗ ︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶ ꒦꒷꒦₊
JJK (Jujutsu Kaisen)
︶꒷꒦︶ ๋࣭ ⭑
Gojo Satoru
Suguru Getō
Kento Nanami
Ryōmen Sukuna
Toji Fushiguro
Megumi Fushiguro
Yuji Itadori
Nobara Kugisaki
Shoko Ieiri
Maki Zenin
Etc.
꒦ˎˊ˗ ︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶ ꒦꒷꒦₊
CODW (Call of Duty Warzone)
︶꒷꒦︶ ๋࣭ ⭑
Simon "Ghost" Riley
John "Soap" MacTavish
König
Kim Hong-jin (Horangi)
Keegan P. Russ
Alejandro Vargas
John Price
Valeria Garza
Etc.
꒦ˎˊ˗ ︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶ ꒦꒷꒦₊
Resident Evil
︶꒷꒦︶ ๋࣭ ⭑
Leon S. Kennedy
Luis Serra
Carlos Oliveira
Chris Redfield
Albert Wesker
Ada Wong
Jill Valentine
Sheva Alomar
Claire Redfield
Ashley Graham
Karl Heisenberg
Etc.
꒦ˎˊ˗ ︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶ ꒦꒷꒦₊
DMC (Devil May Cry)
︶꒷꒦︶ ๋࣭ ⭑
Dante Sparda
Vergil
V
Nero
Lady
Etc.
꒦ˎˊ˗ ︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶ ꒦꒷꒦₊
Arcane
︶꒷꒦︶ ๋࣭ ⭑
Jinx/Powder
Vi/Violet
Mel Medarda
Caitlyn Kiramman
Viktor
Ekko
Jayce
Finn
Silco
Vander
Sevika
꒦ˎˊ˗ ︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶ ꒦꒷꒦₊
Streamers
︶꒷꒦︶ ๋࣭ ⭑
LATAM
Roier
Spreen
Quackity
Cellbit
Pac
Missasinfonia
ElMariana
Rodri Carreraaa
Robleis
Etc.
ENGLISH
Foolish
Philza
Fit
Slimecicle
Fundy
Markiplier
EUROPE
ElRubius
Vegetta777
Etoiles
Luzu
Jagger
Baghera Jones
Etc.
꒦ˎˊ˗ ︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶ ꒦꒷꒦₊
And a lot more of fandoms and characters, but I'm going to leave it here or it would be a very long post ^^'
Y muchos fandoms y personajes más, pero hasta aquí lo voy a dejar porque si no sería un post muy largo ^^'
Any doubt or question, send dm o/
Cualquier duda o pregunta manda mensaje o/
#male reader#streamers x male reader#twd x male reader#the walking dead x male reader#starwars x male reader#star wars x male reader#south park x male reader#jjk x male reader#jjk x male!reader#male!reader#male!y/n#cod x male reader#dmc x male reader#resident evil x male reader#arcane x male reader#character x male reader#carl grimes x male reader#craig tucker x reader
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
2 | Letters From The Living
── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────
Series Masterlist
Summary: You've always loved journaling. It's a hobby you keep even after the world turns upside down.
Pairings: Daryl Dixon × Reader
Pronouns Used: None
Word Count: 1,306
Warnings: Death, typical twd stuff
A/N: Ty @spnczr and @stqrluvr for proofreading ily guys sm!
So... Dr. Brenner tried to blow us up so we left the CDC. That was earlier. We’re sleeping in the vehicles right now. Well. Supposed to be. Shane is on watch and I don’t trust him. Anyways, nothing else new to report considering it was literally yesterday that I wrote.
I miss Brad today.
Carol, Andrea, Dale, Ric, Lori, Carl, T-Dog, Glenn, Daryl, Sophia, and Jenny.
I think the universe hates me. We were scavenging for supplies on a highway when a herd of walkers passed through. One of them chased Jenny off into the woods. I’m worried sick. There’s this pit in my stomach and it won’t go away. What if she’s gone? She’s only fourteen. She can’t be gone. Not my little sister.
Everyone is looking for her. She got run off the road yesterday. We split up, Rick, Carl, and Shane went off on their own. Then some lady came up to us on a horse and took away Lori saying Carl was shot. I’m worried about him too. He’s a good kid. Carol has been trying to console me, but I think I’m broken.
Anywho, after the lady, (her name is maggie) took Lori, Glenn took T-Dog (who is injured) to the farm Maggie lived at. Everyone else stayed back to sleep in the RV. I’m pretty sure Daryl and Andrea went looking last night too. We left in the morning to go to the farm too. Daryl swears he’ll find her. He’s really sweet. I feel bad for ever thinking he was just some hot headed hick. The farm is nice. Jenny is gonna love it here.
Same survivors. + Maggie, Hershel, Patricia, and Jimmy.
Daryl Dixon is a sweetheart. He gave me a flower in a beer bottle. It’s a Cherokee rose. He said that it’s a symbol of hope from the Cherokee mothers who lost their children along the Trail of Tears. I hugged him and called him sweet. He was freaked out I think.
Same Survivors.
Daryl found Jenny!!!!! He almost died while doing it.. but he found her!!! They came back earlier. She was practically carrying him, he had fallen onto a bolt. He was pretty out of it but he told her where to go. Then when they got back Andrea thought they were walkers and tried to shoot them. She missed Jenny but grazed Daryl. He’s okay. Thank god. I’m really proud of Jenny. I think she’s proud of herself too. Obviously she’s traumatized, but everyone has been telling her how amazing it was that she survived out there alone and she’s been smiling a ton. She hasn’t left my side. Or maybe I haven’t left hers. I don’t know. I’m so happy.
Same survivors.
So there were walkers in the barn. They used to be the Greene’s family or friends but at one point they each turned and the Greene’s have been keeping them in the goddamn barn. Glenn told us this morning and Shane threw a fit. He got all the weapons and stormed it. As much as I wish I could blame him, I don’t. I even shot one of them with Dad’s gun.
Speaking of guns, we had a shooting practice yesterday. I’m actually a pretty good shot. So is Jenny. I guess it’s in our blood, Dad used to love his shooting ranges. I miss Dad. And Mom. And Brad. Ugh.
Same Survivors
Um so.. we now have a hostage in the barn. This kid Randall. Rick, Glenn, and Hershel came back from the town with him tied up. His leg was seriously injured. The group is at a crossroad trying to figure out what to do with him. Some want to kill him, other’s think that Rick should just drive out and drop him somewhere. I don’t really know where I stand.
Also, Lori got into a car accident trying to get Rick home. Apparently she’s pregnant too. Drama. I feel like I’m back in high school.
Beth has been in sort of a shock-like state since the barn. Apparently her Mom was one of the walkers. (That’s also why Hershel, Glenn, and Rick were in that town. Hershel went to the bar and Glenn and Rick had to retrieve him. He wants us to leave.. I don’t think we’re going to.) I’ve been helping watch over her. Jenny too. Jenny liked her a lot, they’re closer in maturity than Jen is with Sophia.
Same Survivors.
Andrea is crazy. She basically told Beth to kill herself. I’m shocked. I haven’t spoken to her at all since. Beth is okay, thank god, but someone has to watch her 24/7 now.
Also, Shane and Rick almost let Randall go, but for some reason, they returned with him still in the truck tied and gagged. Daryl had to torture him. I think Daryl and I had a little moment too. I was patching up his wounds and for a second it almost looked like he was going to kiss me. Is it bad that I wanted him to? I feel so guilty about it. All I can think about is Brad. I know he’d want me to be okay without him, but would he want me to be with someone else? Am I crazy? Ugh.
Same survivors.
We lost the farm. Everything happened so quickly. Dale died, then Shane killed Randall, then Rick killed Shane. The barn was on fire, and a giant herd attacked the farm. Jen and I just barely made it out with Glenn and Maggie. We met up with the others at the highway Jenny went missing on. Daryl and I had another moment. He hugged me really tight when he saw me. I hugged him too. I was really relieved to see him. I’m still really relieved to see him.
Andrea didn’t show up at the highway. I feel awful. She’s probably dead and I was so rude to her.
I’m scared. We’re all infected (oh yeah! We all carry the infection. If we die, we become walkers.), we have no shelter, Lori is pregnant, and it’s almost winter. I am running out of optimism.
Glenn, Maggie, Hershel, Beth, Rick, Lori, Carl, Carol, T-Dog, Carol, Sophia, Jenny
── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────
#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon imagine#the walking dead x reader#the walking dead imagine#the walking dead fic#the walking dead fanfiction#daryl dixon series
33 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Road Ahead of Us - TWD (Season 2)
The Walking Dead Fanfiction
MASTERLIST
They had left Atlanta behind, trying to reach Fort Benning; but during an apocalypse nothing ever goes at it is planned. Sarah and Nicolette will have to face new challenges and dangers. How will they survive?
<< Previous - Next >>
Chapter 31
NICOLETTE
"I thought you had died," Carl said as they were searching for something useful inside one of the many cars.
"Yeah..." she answered, "Me too," she took a deep breath. She really thought that she was done for, surrounded by walkers, alone. She had asked herself if it would have hurt. If she'd suffered like Dale did. Or Jimmy...
She shook her head before bending forward to take a bag that was on the floor of the car and looking inside. Just a bottle of empty water, but they could use it when they'd find some water.
"How do you think Shane died?" Carl asked and Nicki stopped what she was doing. Her mind went back to the moment she had seen the man's body on the floor. Maybe she had been stupid, but she actually never thought Shane could have died.
"I don't know," she answered. Shane was covered in blood, but there was no walker around where they had found them, and they heard a shot. Could it have been Rick? Like Daryl did with Dale... but why not let Shane turn?
"I'm sorry you had to do that," Nicki said, taking a breath and glancing at her bow resting on the driver's seat. She didn't know why she had stopped so suddenly. She had shot other walkers.
"You didn't like Shane," Carl's words made her turn to look at him. He was observing her knowingly with his inquisitive blue eyes.
"It does not mean that I wanted him dead," Nicki answered, looking down. It was very different, wondering if he was going crazy or something and seeing him dead.
"And I know you cared about him," Nicki kept saying, remembering how close the boy had been with the man. At first, she even thought that he was his son.
Carl nodded his head, "Do you think Andrea had died as well?"
Nicki found herself taking a deep breath, "I really hope not." They'd lost so many people already. They had lost so many: Amy, Jim, Jaqui, Sophia, Dale, Jimmy, Patricia, Shane and Andrea. So many people.
She shook her head, not wanting to think about that, then she opened the glove compartment. She leaned forward when she noticed a compass. She took it in her hands, opening it, observing the red needle, pointing in the same direction as she moved the object. They said that they would have moved east. She wondered where they'd end up. Was it close? Was it far? Would they find a place at all?
She shook her head, trying to push even this thought from her mind. Then her gaze noticed something orange in the compartment, and as she realized what it was, she felt her lips turn up.
"Shorty, check it out," she said throwing the package for Carl to catch.
"Will you stop calling me that?" he protested with a glare, but she shrugged her shoulders.
"When you'll be taller than me, maybe," she said, before gesturing at him to look at the thing. He scoffed before looking down.
"Reese's," he said, his eyes grew larger.
"Don't say I never do anything for you," she said taking her bow before opening the door of the car.
"Thanks," he said, following her outside, but Nicki only shrugged her shoulders before passing by the next car. Their scavenging went pretty good, they had found some water, a pair of gloves, Nicki had found a pocket knife, three granola bars and backpack. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.
"Are we all ready?" Rick said as they all got back near the cars, "Stay close, and if we need to stop, we honk twice."
"Alright," Glenn said, as Daryl nodded his head.
"Let's go," Rick stated, walking towards the car.
"Nicolette," Sarah said, stopping her by the arm, "I'll go with Daryl, you-"
"Do everything Rick says, right?" she asked, looking at her sister, who nodded, moving Nicki's black hair away from her face.
"Atta girl," Nicki smiled quickly, before turning to walk towards the car. Before entering she gave a glance at her sister, sitting behind Daryl on the bike. Time had passed since the quarry. Then she shook her head entering the car.
Rick was ready to drive, while T-Dog sat in the front and Lori, Carl, and Nicki in the back. As Rick started the car, Nicki found herself looking for the last time at the name of Sophia written on the glass of a car, taking a deep breath, knowing that they'd probably never seen that place again. That made her feel strange. Dale and Sophia were buried at the farm, now they were going away, and nobody would have brought them flowers to rest on their graves. And she thought at Shane's body, and Andrea's, Patricia's and Jimmy's, they didn't even had the time tu bury them properly. Nicki had never been a believing girl, but she hoped that they could find rest, somehow, somewhere.
Rick drove them for some time; Nicki had not been sure for how long, even because, at some point, she had fallen asleep. The night before she had no sleep at all, so in the moment she set down and the adrenaline vanished, she felt her eyes close. She did not remember if she had dreamt, but when she woke up because of a noise like something had been hit, she felt her heart beat fast.
"You okay?" Carl asked from next to her. Nicki took some deep breaths, before nodding her head. Maybe she was having a nightmare.
"What's wrong?" Nicki heard Lori ask her husband.
"We've been riding red for the past hour," Rick said nervously.
"Better make sure we don't get forgotten," T-Dog suggested, pointing a finger at the car before them. Nicki was looking outside as Rick honked and the party came to a stop. There was not even a car around. Only a single road surrounded by trees. If they had no car, did they have to keep their journey on foot?
"Sweetie, let's go," Lori said getting Nicki's attention, "It's gonna be alright," she didn't believe it, but Nicki appreciated her trying. So she nodded her head before opening the door on her side and stepping outside of the door. Her eyes moved to the trees, as she held the bow in her hands tightly. No fences now. They were in the open. That realization hit her worse than she had thought, but taking a breath, she followed Lori as they stopped to talk with the others.
"You out?" Daryl was asking Rick.
"Running on fumes," the sheriff answered. Nicki noticed Daryl and Sarah share a worried look before they both got off the bike.
"We can't stay here?" Maggie said, and Nicki felt like agreeing. They were so exposed there.
"We can't all fit into a car," Glenn observed. They all took out their weapon. Nicki noticed Glenn, Hershel, and Maggie take up their rifles, as Sarah, Lori, and T-Dog took out their guns.
"We'll have to make a run for some gas in the morning," Rick stated. That meant that they had to stop there.
"Spend the night here?" Carol asked with a frown.
"I'm freezing," Carl said to his mother. His hands were in the pockets of his hoodie as his mother tried to keep him warm. Nicki noticed Sarah look over at her. She wanted to know if Nicki was alright and Nicki forced herself to nod her head. There was no reason to tell her sister that she was cold too, she'd only made her worry, knowing that they couldn't do much about it.
"We'll build a fire, yeah?" Lori said as Rick gave his jacket to his son.
Daryl nodded, "You go out lookin' for firewood, stay close," he said before looking at his crossbow, "Only got so many arrows. How you doing on ammo?"
"I'm almost out," Sarah said checking her gun.
"We don't have enough," said Rick.
Daryl always had five arrows, and Nicki had counted hers when she and Sarah had run away from the farm; she only had six and no gun.
"We can't just sit here with our asses hanging out," Maggie said, and she was not wrong.
"Watch your mouth," Hershel reproved her, "Everyone stops panicking and listens to Rick," Nicki turned her head to look at the sheriff.
"All right," he said, "We set up a perimeter. Sarah, you have nothing to make it secure?" her sister was quick to take her backpack from her shoulders, kneeling down to look inside her bag.
"I've got no much, just a piece of a rope," she said, "If we find a place with only one way in, I can set it up to buy us some time if it's needed," Rick nodded his head.
"Alright," he said, "In the morning, we'll find gas and some supplies. We'll keep pushing on."
Maggie took a step forward, "Glenn and I can go make a run now," she suggested, "try and scrounge up some gas."
But Rick shook his head, "No, we stay together. God forbid something happens and people get stranded without a car," Nicki shivered at the thought as she looked at the trees, trying to be as ready as possible in case a walker appeared from nowhere.
"Rick, we're stranded now," Glenn almost whispered.
"I know it looks bad," Rick answered, "We've been through hell and worse, but at least we found each other," Nicki and Sarah shared a look. Rick was right; they could have ended up all divided, but thankfully, they were together now. It was better not to risk losing each other.
"I wasn't sure..." Rick admitted what they all thought the night before, "I really wasn't. But we did. We're together. We keep it that way," Nicki noticed her sister nod, but others did not seem convinced, like Carol or Maggie.
"We'll find shelter somewhere," Rick kept saying, "There's gotta be a place."
"Rick, look around, okay?" Glenn said stepping forward, "There's walkers everywhere. They're migrating or something."
Jim had said that they had probably finished the food in Atlanta. That could be the reason why they started to spread in the countryside as well.
"There's gotta be a place not just where we hole up, but that we fortify," Rick answered to him, "Hunker down, pull ourselves together, build a life for each other," he was getting restless as he spoke, "I know it's out there. We just have to find it."
"I agree with Rick," Sarah said looking at the others, "There must be a place. Something. Anything," her eyes looked at Nicki. She knew that her sister was the first thing thinking about her safety. Sarah always wanted to protect Nicki, always hoping for the best.
"Even if we do find a place and we think it's safe," Maggie said, "We can never be sure for how long. Look what happened with the farm. We fooled ourselves into thinking that was safe."
"We won't make that mistake again," Hershel said looking at his daughter. Nicki understood what Maggie was saying; they all were afraid of what had happened to the farm and of the possibility of that happening again. But they couldn't be on the road, not for long. Maybe it was better to find a place and lose it instead of running around, waiting for a walker to kill all of them one by one. Then she looked over Lori. The woman was pregnant. If not for themselves, they needed to find a place for her.
"We'll make camp tonight, over there," Rick stated, pointing at a wall not far from there, "Sarah close one of the entrances," Sarah nodded her head, taking the rope in her hands, "We get on the road at the break of day."
"Does this feel right to you?" Nicki observed Carol as she walked closer to Daryl with arms crossed and a frown on her face. The man gave a little nod.
"What if walkers come through, or another group like Randall's?" Beth asked stepping towards Rick.
"You know I found Randall, right?" Nicki got closer at Daryl's words. Maybe Lori or T-Dog had said something as she slept because she didn't know what had happened to the guy. "He had turned, but he wasn't bit," Nicki frowned.
"How's that possible?" she asked confused, looking at the man. His face was strange, Nicki noticed that immediately. He got pale, his eyes wide, and no words came out of his mouth. There was something strange going on. And Rick knew something.
"Rick, what the hell happened?" Lori asked her husband.
"Shane killed Randall," Daryl stated and Nicki turned to look at him, "Just like he always wanted to."
Like he did with Otis, Nicki thought. Shane had really turned crazy over time. She could not understand how someone could have changed so much, in a short time. He was another person, from the man she had met. They had decided to let Randall go, yet he did it all by himself. But why staging the disappearance then? Why not tell everything?
"And then the herd got him?" Lori asked.
"No, he was already dead before the herd even arrived," Nicki said, her eyes fixed on Rick. He was still not talking, still breathing heavily. Nicki looked at the side of the man's face. He had blood covering the right side of it and it was like that before the arrival of the walkers.
"We are all infected," Rick's words arrived unexpectedly. And Nicki felt for a moment as if she had stopped breathing. And, of course, she wasn't the only one. All of them were looking at Rick with wide eyes and a short of words. How long had he known?
"What?" Daryl asked.
"At the C.D.C. Jenner told me," Rick answered, "Whatever it is, we all carry it," Nicki turned at her sister. Sarah had covered her mouth with her hand, her brown eyes large as she observed Rick.
"And you never said anything?" Carol asked taking a step forward.
"Would it have made a difference?" Rick said, but Sarah shook her head.
"That's not the point," she muttered.
"You knew this whole time?" Glenn asked, his expression angry.
"How could I have known for sure?" Rick justified himself, "You saw how crazy that mo-"
"This is not your call!" Glenn exclaimed, "Okay, when I found out about the walkers in the barn, I told, for the good of everyone."
"Well, I thought it best that people didn't know," Rick answered simply but threateningly. As if he was challenging anyone to speak against him.
What had happened to him? Why was he so aggressive?
Nicki kept watching him walk away, that was not the Rick that she knew. Something had shifted, something had changed. As Lori started to walk behind her husband, Nicki turned, her eyes meeting Carl's.
How did Shane die?
**********************************************
If you liked it leave a ❤️ and reblog!
#twd#the walking dead#twd fanfiction#the walking dead fanfiction#twd imagine#the walking dead imagine#carl grimes#carl grimes fanfiction#carl grimes imagine#carl grimes x reader#carl grimes x oc#daryl dixon#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon x oc#daryl dixon x reader
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
youtube
Jimmy & The Pig Story ~ TWD Daryl Dixon 01x04
10 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
drvishwanath
Dr Viswanath S
kikicolors
❝ Artist ❞
shaneaminix
Sans titre
xhiyorin
Hiyori Iki
itsheroictraveler
HERO TRAVELER