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bartxnhood · 2 years

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formula | d.d

gif not mine.

| daryl x reader

(season 3 prison era)

summary: after the attack on the prison, you volunteer to go with daryl on a run for formula, only for things to take a turn.

warnings: mentions of death, gore, weapons, and angst :)

authors note: hi hi, first twd fic omg. i’ve literally been watching since s1 but never wrote anything lol. i started rewatching twd again for the 262836282737th time bc it’s my all time favorite.

(not proofread)

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when maggie walked out of the prison with a baby in her hands, tears staining her face, and a distraught carl at her side, you knew what happened. you had just lost t-dog and almost carol. lori too? you looked down at your feet, stained with fresh and dry blood, mixed with dirt. the alarms blaring had caused an outbreak in the prison, walkers from every direction following the sound and attacking everything and anything in their path. you looked over to rick who was standing only a few feet from you. you saw his face change, each step he took to his son and newborn child, dropping the ax at his feet. circling maggie who was sobbing along with the infant wrapped in carl’s jacket, he put his hand up to his temple. “where…where is she?” he stuttered, walking closer to maggie. he started past her to go inside where they exited. “no..rick! no” maggie protested, reaching for his arm but he walked past her. you saw the man who took you in, stranded on the highway when it all began to break down. his sobs became louder by the second. “oh..no…no..” he cried, looking at his son then collapsing to the courtyard floor.

you watched as maggie walked over to glenn, crying into his arms. she was a mess. and, you were too. you lost almost a mother figure. she was so good to you. you were so thankful for her. hell, she even told you to make a move on daryl. she was your number one supporter, she loved you and daryl. “maggie..” you breathed, coming behind glenn and holding your arms out. “can i hold her?” maggie looked at you, her eyes bloodshot and hands stained with the blood of lori. but she nodded, handing the child to you. even being a few minutes old she already looked like her mother. “let me see the baby” you heard herschel say. you turned walking over to him. “what are we gonna feed it?” daryl asked, standing by your side. “we got anything a baby can eat?”

“the good news is, she looks healthy.” the older man said, doing a glance over the little girl. “but she needs formula. and soon, or she won’t survive.” your eyes shot up to daryl who glanced at you, ti the baby, then back up at herschel. “nope. no way. not her” he stated. “we ain’t losing nobody else. i’m goin for a run” you panicked, looking at him. now? alone? “i’ll back you up” “i’ll go too” you heard maggie and glenn chime in. you didn’t know what to do. you handed the baby to carl, “me too.” daryl nodded. “you two! check the fences. too many pile up, we’ve got ourselves a problem. glenn, maggie, y/n! vamonos!”

you three followed behind daryl while the two prisoners tended to the gate. “there’s a piggly wiggly on 85” glenn spoke up, giving ideas to scavenge for the baby. “no” you said trailing behind glenn “the baby sections been cleared, me and maggie tried that a while ago.” glenn sighed. “is there any place that hasn’t been completely looted?” daryl asked, taking the crossbow of his shoulder. you looked at maggie, you shook your head. not thinking of anything off the top of your head. “we uh, saw signs for a shopping center just north of here” glenn answered, standing around the car. “yeah, but there’s too much debris on the road.” maggie said grabbing some stuff out of the car. you crossed your arms looking at the other three. “i can take one of ya” daryl said, putting his vest on. “i’ll go” you volunteered. glenn and maggie looked at you. “i have to, it’s only right.” they both nodded. “okay then, let’s go. we’ll lose daylight.” daryl chimed in, you nodded grabbing your weapons and a jacket then climbing behind daryl on his motorcycle.

the ride was close to half an hour, it only took that long when passing through the debris. you had stumbled across a daycare, you brought it up to daryl to stop there and see if there was anything left. “i’ll go find a way in” you hopped on his motorcycle and headed to the abandoned building. “‘mkay” most of the doors were jammed so you finally used your elbow and busted into a window in some room. you used your jacket to get the rest of the glass out and make a safe way in. “careful” you mumbled, climbing inside. “mhm” you heard daryl grunt. you saw the names of children on the wall, it tugged at your heartstrings. most of them were probably dead by now. you looked away, focusing on your mission. you looked through the closest sand cabinets. you found some clothes, toys, just some things you thought the baby would like. as you entered the kitchen, daryl followed behind you.

faintly you heard rattling coming from a pantry, carefully you looked back at daryl who was already looking at you. he loaded his crossbow and stuffed his flashlight in his mouth. he opened the doors, expecting the dead but instead, you were greeted by an owl. he quickly let his arrow release and take down the owl. “hello dinner” he mumbled, grabbing the flashlight from between his teeth. “that’s not going in my bag” you scoffed. you turned to the counter and opened more cabinets. “jackpot..” you whispered, grabbing the leftover formula, bottles, and whatever else you could find. “we’ll have to make frequent runs. it isn’t much here but it’s enough to keep her alive” you stuffed everything into your bag and zipped it up, looking at your boyfriend out of the corner of your eye. “ah we’ll figure somethin out” he hummed, but he understood what you meant.

“i think that’s all, i’ll check this other room if there’s anything. i’ll be right back” you said, leaving your bag on the counter. you took the flashlight and your machete in case of the dead. you were making sure your movements were stealthy and quiet. you hadn’t heard anything when you opened the door leading into the bedroom. beds lined the far side of the wall, but everything had already looked looted. you let out a defeated sigh. it was going to be hard to find anything for loris's little girl. after a quick sweep you headed back to the door. “nothing in here!” you placed your hand on the doorknob to leave. suddenly you heard the loud snarling escaping from the closet. the thing was quick to grab your side, using its strength and sinking its teeth into you.

letting out a shriek, you felt your knees buckling due to the pain. clenching your teeth, you took your machete and landed the blade in the temple of the walker. the growled ceased as it fell to the floor. “shit!” you cried, you dropped your weapon and brought your hand to the wound on your side. you had been wounded before, but nothing felt like this. the pain was excruciating, you fell to your knees. eyes going blurry, your senses were all over the place. the only thing occupying your mind was the pain. you didn’t hear daryl coming to your side. daryl was quick to run to the doorway you were standing in. “what’s goin on?” his eyes widened seeing your state. you whimpered, opening your eyes seeing him.

"hey hey. shhh." god no, please no. he scoops you up in his arms.

“daryl....?”

he nods holding to your side that was now gushing with blood. tears started welling in his eyes. "yeah. yeah, ’m here. now don't talk.” he grunted your eyes are shut tightly, every breath causing a pain in your side which has just been bitten. “It, it hurts."

"i know. but don't talk. and don't move,either." he brushed your hair from your forehead, getting a good look at you. your head was resting on his arm, your body laid lazily across his legs. you knew you were dying. it was happening so quickly. “cmon i gotta get you out of here” daryl attempted to pick you up he thought he was have enough time to get you back to the prison. but you couldn’t do it, you only made it as far as the kitchen before falling again. “daryl..i’m not gonna make it. i’ll slow you down” you felt more tears streaming down your cheeks. “nah. you can make it. cmon” you grabbed his arm. “i cant”

with the look of defeat on his face, he sat down next to you on the floor bringing your head to his chest. he had tried his best to stop the bleeding in hopes you’d have just a little longer. how could he lose you too? it should’ve been him.

"hey, dixon?" your breaths are rattling.

"hmm?"

you cough. "I love you."

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revenge-of-the-shit · 3 years

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Writing Chinese characters set within Western worlds

If you don’t want to read it on tumblr, go check this out on medium or go follow me on instagram at @annessarose_writes!

Alright. You know what. I’ve seen plenty of stereotypes in fiction (and in social media) that are so incredibly pervasive I’ve seen many Chinese people within the western world internalize it themselves. So here’s a rough guide on writing Chinese characters in an English-speaking Western setting, written by me, a Chinese Canadian woman.

If you’re here to say something racist fuck off. Otherwise, welcome! This is not a comprehensive guide by any means. This is merely a brief overview based on my own experiences. My experience (as someone in North America) will differ from someone living in, say, Europe or South America. I’m not representative of every Chinese person because everyone’s experience is unique. So here were are.

1. Our names

Chinese names are usually written as follows: [family name] [name]. Let’s take a Canadian historical figure as an example: 黃寬先. In Chinese, it’s pronounced “Wong Foon Sien.” On Canadian documents — which are written [First name] [Last name], he’d be called “Foon Sien Wong.” He went by “Foon Sien” for most of his life. That’s his full “first name.” Nobody would call him Foon because that’s just half of his name (unless given permission). It’d be like meeting a stranger called Alex and calling them “Al” right off the bat. Sure, they could go by Al, but you don’t know that.

For those of us living in the Western world, some of us have both a Chinese name and an English name. In these cases, our Chinese name becomes our middle name in English (e.g. a character could be called John Heen-Gwong Lee).

For some people who immigrated to the Western world but were born in China, their legal name would be their Chinese name. Some choose to keep that name. Some choose an English name as their “preferred” name but keep their Chinese name on legal documents. It varies.

2. Parents & Stereotypes

There’s two stereotypes which are so pervasive I see it being used over and over in jokes even within Chinese (and, to a larger extent, asian) communities:

The [abusive] tiger mom and the meek/absent dad

Both parents are unreasonably strict/abusive and they suck

I have yet to see any fiction stories with Chinese parents where they’re depicted as kind/loving/supportive/understanding (if you have recommendations — please do send them my way). Not all Chinese parents are tiger parents. Chinese parents — like all parents — are human. Good god. YES, they’re human! YES, they have flaws! YES, they are influenced by the culture they grew up in!

That isn’t to say there aren’t parents like those tropes. There are. I know this because I grew up in a predominantly Chinese community where I had many a friend’s parent who was like this. Parents who compare their kids to the best kid in class. Parents who force kids into private lessons and competitions that the kid despises because the parents think it’s for the best. Parents who have literally called their kid a disappointment because they didn’t get 100%.

But please, also consider: there’s parents who support their child’s goals and who listen. Not all parents force their kid into the stereotypical trifecta of lawyer/doctor/engineer — I know of a good number who support their child in choosing the path they want. There’s parents who make mistakes and learn and try their best to support their child. So please, for the love of god, if you write a Chinese character, don’t reduce their parents to stereotypes.

3. Language & Learning

When I first read The Son of Neptune by Rick Riordan, I was so excited to see a Chinese Canadian character in Frank Zhang. Finally, there was someone like me. Finally, there was representation in well-known western media.

While I do appreciate that RR added in Frank Zhang, it’s pretty obvious that he didn’t really know how to write a Chinese Canadian character. One of the most glaring examples: in The Son of Neptune, Frank reveals he can’t really read Chinese. In like, the next book (I think — it’s been a while since I read it), Frank is suddenly able to read Chinese because he “learned” it in two week’s time.

Nope. Nuh-uh. Learning Chinese is a pain, let me tell you. There’s thousands of different characters and it is something you need to devote a lot of time to learning (especially if you’re progressed past the best childhood years for learning a language). So if you’re writing about a Chinese character living in the western world, here’s what you need to know:

A character who was born and raised in the western world does not necessarily know how to read/write in Chinese.

If they were raised by their own family, the character would very likely know how to speak their own dialect. They’d be able to understand the language used in movies/TV and they sound like a native speaker, but they may not know how to use language outside of certain contexts (the term for this is heritage speaker).

They probably went to Chinese school. They probably hated it. Chinese school is usually universally hated and does not teach you jack shit other than a hatred for the place and a vague memory of learning how to read the language without actually retaining knowledge of what you learned.

Most of my friends who know how to read/write in Chinese learned from tutors, parents, or were born in China.

There’s two main types of written Chinese: Traditional (used by Cantonese speakers) and Simplified (used by Mandarin speakers).

There are MANY other dialects (which I don’t know much about). The most common ones are Mandarin (usually spoken by people from the mainland), then Cantonese (usually spoken by people from Hong Kong).

4. Fitting into the community

Usually, the story is one of two things: they’re the only Asian kid in the entire school, or they grew up in a predominantly East Asian community. Things to consider for both of these when you’re writing:

Growing up the only Asian kid

They’re “that Asian kid.” They’re different. They walk into a class and feel weird and out of place.

They bring food from home (usually ethnic cuisine) to school. Other classmates stare at it, make fun of it, demand what that strange food is.

“Where are you from?” “Here.” “No, like, where are you really from?”

“Your name is funny.”

People literally never getting the character’s name right.

And that horrible, horrible feeling: wishing that they were white so they could avoid all of this.

Growing up in a predominantly East Asian community

It’s not uncommon for Chinese cuisine to mix with other east Asian cuisines. For special occasions (or just for a casual night out), your character could very well go out to get some sushi, or go for some KBBQ, or get some Vietnamese noodles.

Screaming “AIYAA” at/with their friends unironically if they’re annoyed (I’ve done this a lot with Cantonese friends. Less so with Mandarin friends).

Slipping into Chinese for like, two words, during a mostly-English conversation to talk about food or some other topic that can’t be adequately conveyed in English.

Reading books by white authors and learning about white history and growing up thinking white names, white books, and white history is the norm and standard even though the community is surrounded by East Asian people.

When the character leaves this community, there’s a brief culture shock when they realize how sheltered they’ve been.

Things in common for both of these:

The character has grown up on ethnic cuisine. Yes, Chinese people do eat rice with many of our meals. Yes, boba (bubble) tea is extremely popular. No, rice isn’t the only thing we eat. No, not all Chinese people love boba (though as a Chinese person I admit this sounds sacrilegious to say…)

The character likely grew up watching film/TVthat originates from East Asia. It’s not uncommon to watch Studio Ghibli films. It’s not uncommon to watch Japanese or Korean shows with canto/mando dub (examples: Ultraman, Kamen Rider). If you want to see a classic Chinese film from Hong Kong that’s fucking hilarious, watch Kung Fu Hustle.

The character has felt or been told that they’re “too westernized to be Chinese, but too Chinese to fit into the western world.” They’re torn between the two.

5. General portrayal

It’s quite simple, really. We’re human. We’re regular people. We have regular hobbies like all people do. We’re good at some subjects and bad at others. We have likes and dislikes like all people do. So here’s a list of stereotypes you can avoid.

STEREOTYPES TO AVOID BECAUSE WE’RE REGULAR HUMANS AND WE DON’T FIT INTO A SINGLE COOKIE CUTTER SHAPE, DAMMIT.

The character is a maths whiz and perfect at all things STEM.

The character is a straight-A+ gifted/IB/AP student.

The character is the next coming of Mozart and is amazing at piano/violin.

The character’s free time is spent only studying.

The character is insanely good at martial arts.

The character is either meek and submissive or an explosive, dangerous force.

I’m not going to mention the other stereotypes. You know, those ones. The really obvious ones that make fun of and demonize (sometimes through multiple untruths) how we look and how we live our lives. You should know.

Of course, there are people who fit into one or more of these. That’s not the point. The point is: molding all Chinese characters to these stereotypes (which white media tends to do) is harmful and reductionist. We’re more than stereotypes.

—

6. Conclusion

We need more diversity in portrayal of Chinese characters. Reducing us into one-dimensional caricatures has done nothing but harm us — look at what’s happening now. This guide is by no means comprehensive, but I hope it has helped you by providing a quick overview.

If you want to accurately portray Chinese characters, do your research. Read Chinese fiction. Watch Chinese films/TV. Initiate a conversation with the community. Portray us accurately. Quit turning us into caricatures.

#non sw #writing #writing reference #reference #writing bipoc characters #Chinese representation #asian representation #asian characters #chinese characters #stop asian hate #chinese diaspora #chinese american #chinese canadian #writing guide #abuse tw #racism tw #long post #annessarose writes

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ajbwasntwriting · 3 years

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Daughter!Reader X Negan, Reader x Daryl: Chapter 8. Civil Unrest

First | Previous | Next

For all intents and purposes this is filler so the next chapter will be up in the next few minutes

I’ll only post more chapters if previous chapters get a good reaction so if you enjoy this please heart it, reblog it, and/or reply to it. Interaction inspires.

if you wish to be added to the tag list please dm me. All chapters can be found under the tag AJ’s Negan’s Daughter AU

In a few days you were up on your feet, your need to survive driving your fast recovery. As soon as you could sit up without nearly fainting and you could bend your fingers without much pain you started taking patients. Mainly burns and cuts. You kept your head down while working, adding to your intimidating reputation. They didn’t realise you were just trying to conceal yourself while looking for familiar faces. You rarely left the medical bay, even when it was icy cold.

Carol checked on you regularly, seemingly incredibly concerned for you. It almost pained you to suspect her to be out to get you. Luckily she seemed convinced that because you had been alone for so long that you’d take a long time getting used to the walls. Maybe she figured out that you were just biding time for leaving again.

“Are you okay?” Laura pulled you from your thoughts. You looked up suddenly, nodded, and went back to your reading. All these patient profiles from the previous physician were thorough. “Why would Emmett be this detailed with extremely basic medical care” you tought, then again he was a captive here just as much as you were. He probably had nothing better to do. “Are you sure? You look so serious.” She continued. You looked up to her. She was lying on one of the beds chewing on a piece of hard plastic. Having to keep a watch on ‘The New Doc’ would’ve been extremely boring.

“Just a lot of reading” you sat up and stretched your arms, not realising how long you had sat hunched over the hand-written pages. “Doctors have horrible handwriting and this guy sure likes to drag his point out”

“How bad is it?” She asked. You lifted the profile of another patient and followed along with your finger.

“The left Thenar has suffered tremendous infliction resulting in the loss of elasticity and possible avulsion of the tissue” You read aloud in a dramatic voice

“What?” Laura said, taking the plastic out of her mouth for a moment

“He pulled the muscle in his thumb, possibly tearing it” you flopped the paper down, rubbing your forehead.

“And all those pages are full of that shit” Laura pressed. You sighed with a nod.

“I never thought I’d be grateful to have done AP english.” you sighed

“Okay smart ass no need to show off” Laura chuckled, chewing on the plastic again.

“Please,” you sat back in the chair “My old man made me do it. ‘You already speak english so it should be a breeze’ he said”

“Those kind of parents?”

“You’re familiar?”

“Yep” Laura sat up, hunching over her now crossed legs. “My dad was a lawyer. Mom was an accountant. They kept pushing me to over achieve”

“Bet they weren’t happy with that” you spoke, pointing to your neck to reference Laura’s tattoo. Her hand went over it instinctively.

“I had already skipped town with my boyfriend before I got this.” She laughed. The smile melted away as she slowly stroked her neck. “Hadn’t seen them since. Probably dead.”

The room got a lot more quiet. It was crazy to think you both were so close in age but had gone through so much hell in the same world. But Laura was a saviour. You were Negan’s kid. If you were to be friends it would have to be at an arm’s reach.

The momentum changed when Carol arrived in, holding a small tray with cookies on them. The smell told you they were fresh. Your heart wanted to tell her to get out, but those cookies smelled too damn good.

“How’s the hard work going ladies.” she spoke with a cheery voice, setting the tray down in front of you. You were on it instantly. You took a cookie with you as you limped over to lock the door to the medical bay. “Any news?” Carol whispered

Carol had asked you and Laura to investigate the uprising of Negan supporters in the Sanctuary. Well, mainly Laura since she would know more people in Carol’s eyes. The payment, cookies. Though Laura would probably do it for free. She enjoyed the new peace that came with being aligned with the other settlements.

“Just the usual hot-heads” Laura sighed. You limped back to your chair.

“They like to complain to me.” you gently sat down. You’d only been back walking without the full splint for a couple days now but the clunky half splint on your lower leg wasn’t exactly walker friendly. “‘You should’ve seen how great we were when Negan was running the place’ and other shit”

“What do you think of it?” Carol asks you seriously. You suck the sugar off your fingers happily.

“He mustn’t have been that good if he’s not in charge anymore.”

They had their little meeting then as Carol was leaving you piped up,

“How’s the bridge team?”

“No.” Carol retorted quickly as if speaking to a child. “You are not going out there how many times do I have to tell you.”

“I could help-”

“You’re needed here Y/N” she spoke firmly.

“Yes, mom.” you groaned from your chair, earning a laugh from Laura. Carol left quickly.

“Why do you wanna join the bridge team so badly?” Laura asked through a mouthful of cookie.

“I miss the fresh air, I guess” and there’s more chances to get away from you all.

That evening you were restless. Normally it was the pain that kept you up late but it also exhausted you. You got out of the medical bed you’d claimed as your own, one of three that outfitted the med bay. You limped your way out of the medbay, not bothered if you woke Laura. The bathroom was down the hall so she would just assume you had to pee, especially since you had taken the torch dedicated to midnight bathroom visits. Being the medic gave you the luxury of a torch instead of matches and a candle.

It hurt to climb up so many stairs, with both your wounds and the cold seeping into your skin, but you’d be tired by the time you came back down anyway. You walked onto what used to be Negan’s floor. Your ‘family’s’ floor. You’d wanted to see it for a while now, out of curiosity more than anything else.

You first went to your father’s room. Pushing the door open you felt a burst of cold air whip around you viciously. The room has been stripped of its furnishings, right down to the carpets. Taken away to be burned most likely. The windows were shattered, the bullet holes in the ceiling giving away the method. It was so completely devoid of any sign of human life one would say it always had been. You closed the door and continued onto the parlour where the wives would spend their day. This room didn’t have windows but the room was still completely void of any of the glamour that once adorned it. The only remnants was the wall paper which was peeling off due to the damp.

The image of the forgotten rooms didn’t stir emotion in the way you thought they would. You imagined getting overwhelmed with emotion, but you felt nothing. No that wasn’t right, you felt a loss. Not a loss of the grandeur you had gotten to enjoy in captivity, not a loss of the fake smiles from your many ‘mothers’. You felt a loss of your father. You mourned the man you had called your father, and the idea that all that was left of the memory of him were these halls where cowards bowed to him. You felt an overwhelming realisation that the man you called ‘Pops’ had died long before ‘Negan’ formed.

Your final destination was your room. You figured it would also be empty but your room was a bit away, down the end of a hall few knew how to get too. You’d had more roaches as visitors than people. Your father had chosen it for you so the ‘common nobodies’ wouldn’t see you easily, another measure to keep you safe.

It also worked the other way as you round the corner and see a light coming from what used to be your room. The hall was lined with offices and storage rooms you knew you could dive into if someone appeared so you turned off your light and walked down the hall gingerly on your feet. You were now only a couple feet away from the door when you heard voices coming from the end of the hall, from what used to be your room.

“I still can’t believe they put this bitch here to keep an eye on us. That fucking redneck was an ass but atleast he didn’t pretend to be all fucking nice”

“It’s probably a play to get us to relax. They’ve got us locked in this factory and don’t give us nearly enough food, and they won’t let us go to the other settlements”

“We’re prisoners. They said they only wanted to lock up Negan but now we’re all starving.”

“Enough of your bitching.”

They went on to talk about how many people were on their side and their efforts to get weapons. They clearly had no idea you were listening. After all, what kind of idiot is gonna climb up over ten floors for no reason. Other than sentiment perhaps. It sounded like there were about four people in the room, but they spoke like they had a few under their influence. They were looking for weapons and a means to get back at ‘Rick and his posse’.

“We’ll bring them that bitch Carol’s head on a spike for them.”

“What about the bridge? We got people working there for food.”

“And then what? They’re just gonna keep extorting us for slave labour or let us starve.”

You were so drawn in by their words that the door opening startled you. You charged from your spot into an open room, a storage closet of a sort. You knew it was too risky to close the door so you stood against the wall next to the door. They walked along the hall bantering loudly. You sidestepped deeper into the room, knocking something with your foot making a loud metal sound. The voices stopped and you instantly froze, holding your breath like your life depended on it. A light shun into the closet, then the other way.

“Probably just a rat” one of the voices spoke. “We can set some traps and stew it for dinner”.

They continued down the hall, their steps growing faint a minute or so later. The adrenaline began to subside and the pain from the recent strain on your leg made itself very apparent. You stepped out of the closet and walked down the hall to your old room. Maybe they left some evidence you could use to barter for your freedom.

You opened the door to your room, only illuminated by the moonlight coming from the window. Unlike the other rooms, your room hadn’t been completely ransacked. The mattress had been taken off the frame but the metal skeleton remained as well as the rug under your bed. Other than that it appeared empty. You turned on your torch to get a better view.

On your bed frame lay what had to be near a hundred dead wild flowers. Your breath caught in your throat at the site. You moved and sat on the bed frame, the metal sending a chill up your body. You placed a hand on the dry stems and something hit the ground with a thump. You moved to look under the bed as quick as you could, reaching under the bed you cut yourself on something sharp. You moved your torch on it and grabbed it again, this time from a less dangerous end.

Under the bed you pulled out the knife that had your name engraved on it. The metal shun bright in the light as if lovingly polished until it’s inevitable abandonment. You hadn’t realized you had begun to cry until a tear fell onto the blade and began to fill the engraving.

~Tag List~

@bodeckersbitch @lauren-novak @aestthete

#AJ's Negan's Daughter AU #twd negan #negan fic #negan twd #negan the walking dead #the walking dead negan #negan x daughter reader #daughter reader #daughter x negan #daughter reader x negan #twd daryl #daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #twd carol #carol peletier #the walking dead carol #twd laura

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ckret2 · 3 years

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GVK spoilers below, about conspiracy theories

I’m gonna get around to posting all my GVK reactions but this one got long so I’m putting it in its own post.

The Monsterverse series, in both KOTM and GVK, has some pretty interesting things to say about conspiracy theories and ecofascism; but, unfortunately, it doesn’t REALIZE that it’s saying any of them, so it keeps dropping the ball and missing opportunities to explore them.

Starting with KOTM, “there’s too many humans so we’ve just gotta let some die and that’ll fix pollution 🤷” is like false ecofascist claim #1 but at no point in the movie was it challenged as unfactual, it was just presented as a sad truth that people have to do morally ambiguous things about. Except that it’s just literally mathematically not true!

Emma could be such a GREAT, believable character—especially in this world with, like, frigging QAnon nonsense getting such widespread traction—showing a compelling, realistic tragedy of how this normal, intelligent, well-educated white mom who otherwise is likely left-leaning (pro-environmentalism, pro-nature conservation, got a doctorate and generally more academia correlates with more liberal ideals) got sucked into a far right ecofascist doomsday militia that combines hokey pseudo-environmentalist propaganda with “in balance with nature” semi-religious mysticism, because she was exploited at a time when she was emotionally vulnerable (when her kid had just died) and was lacking healthy emotional support (when her husband turned to alcohol and then ran off).

... Except the movie never says that her “overpopulation” beliefs are WRONG. It says that they’re RIGHT, and she was just forced to choose between two losing scenarios—deliberately kill most of humanity to hopefully save a few, or watch humanity kill itself.

Nobody bothers to mention that the size of the population isn’t the problem, it’s the disproportionate pollution coming out of first world countries. Nobody bothers to mention that when Emma talks about “overpopulation” and shows a screenshot of an overcrowded neighborhood, it ain’t affluent downtown skyscraper condos in Europe or America that she’s highlighting, but large masses of poor people whose neighborhoods look “dirty” to the white woman’s eyes, despite the fact that they’re contributing the least to humanity’s carbon footprint.

Emma’s beliefs are empirically wrong, and if KOTM had ever demonstrated that, it would’ve been brilliant. Instead, it tries to say “she was right, she just went too far,” and in doing so loses an opportunity to make Emma a deeply believable, timely, realistic, well-meaning but wrong villain.

And now we’ve got GVK, which has swerved away from the ecofascism but doubled down on the conspiracy theories. Here, Emma’s daughter, who was raised for five years with what amounts to a survivalist doomsday cult’s beliefs, when faced with the grief of her mother’s death and the struggle of trying to reconnect to her estranged father, turns—again—to conspiracies to make sense of the world around her. Because that’s what Madison’s been raised with, and even though she got disillusioned with the particular “we know something special that the normal people can’t handle” beliefs that she was raised with, that kind of thinking is still what she knows. She’s still doing what her mother raised her to do! She’s still pulling the “hypercompetent highly-trained lone wolf ‘survivor’ saves the world” shtick that Jonah’s gang taught her to do—but it’s never brought up that it was screwed up to raise a child like that and it’s screwed up for her to still be interacting with the world like that.

At least THIS conspiracy theorist isn’t literally advocating for global genocide. Bernie’s focus largely seems to be on “this corporation is trying to screw people over and screw up the environment—” (because in Monsterverse, as in Toho monster movies as a whole, kaiju/titans and the environment are symbolically conflated, so if a corporation is messing with Godzilla then they’re messing with nature as well) “—so I’m gonna find out what they’re up to and be a whistleblower.” Which is great! Solid start! We’ve got a guy taking aim at big business and who says “when the weather Godzilla acts erratic, it’s not random chance, it’s because a big business is doing something it shouldn’t,” so it looks like we’ve got a leftist conspiracy theorist, that’s different, could be interesting to explore.

Except then he starts talking about governments serving a “global elite” and facilities built by “lizard people” and then we’ve swung right back around to the far right by casually dropping in a couple of antisemitic conspiracy theories.

Add that in with the whole “hollow earth” thing and damn, we’re namedropping a lot of antisemitic conspiracy theories, aren’t we? Granted, most conspiracy theories ARE antisemitic—but like, they could have dug around for some that aren’t. Have him talk some more about Roswell. Have him bring up things that we’ve actually got documentation happened and theorize that MKUltra research was used in Apex’s development of their pilot’s psychic mind link to Mechagodzilla. Have him bring up tailor-made-for-the-Monsterverse conspiracy theories that don’t exist here, “Monster Zero is actually the secret weapon of a nearby ‘Planet X’ that’s gonna invade,” whatever. Instead, nah, we went with the antisemitic ones.

Now, do I think the writers behind KOTM and GVK intended antisemitism? Do I think they’re closet alt-right trying to dogwhistle the fascists in the audience? No, I think they think they’re making fun of—or playing around with—what they see as harmless, unbelievable, way-out-there conspiracy theories. I think they know just enough about “hollow earth” and “global elites” and “lizard people” to make references to them, but not in a way that promotes the common antisemitic understanding of those theories as true. (Monsterverse’s hollow earth, a weird underground jungle where King Kong lives, sure doesn’t resemble the usual conspiracy theory.) To me, the way they were used suggests the writers didn’t deeply understand (or at least, didn’t deeply think about) what the theories really mean—nor what they imply about the beliefs of the characters who espouse them. Which is the crux of my issue with how the movies deal with conspiracy theories and ecofascists and so forth (beyond the fact that, hey, I just don’t like seeing likable characters casually referencing antisemitic beliefs): the writers didn’t think about the implications.

Because these things do imply a lot! For example, if, say, Josh, total newb to conspiracy theories, had asked about lizard people, I would have grimaced to hear it but I would have believed that he’s a teen boy that picked up the term at school and doesn’t know anything about what’s behind it. But on the other hand, I can’t believe a guy so deep in the conspiracy theory world that he bathes in bleach doesn’t know exactly what those conspiracies mean—or, even if he does somehow staunchly refuse to believe that “lizard people” is a code for “Jewish people,” that whatever circle of conspiracy theorists he runs with doesn’t use it as a code. Bernie didn’t pick up those beliefs in a void. I really doubt that’s what the writers wanted to imply about the goofy likable underdog with a podcast.

And sure, the “global elite” and “lizard people” references are presented like a “haha look how far out his beliefs are” joke—the same as the fluoride reference, which is basically Hollywood code for “bogus nonsense only complete lunatics believe” thanks to Dr. Strangelove—but at the same time, they’re never really disproven. Nothing he believes is challenged. Nor are any of Madison’s beliefs that she’s picked up from him. Everything they both believe is either a “wow that’s wild” throwaway joke, or else they’re presented as totally right, e.g. about Apex being up to dubious crap that’s irritating Godzilla.

Just like Emma, who was presented as in the wrong not because she was incorrect but because she WAS correct but took the wrong actions. And just like Rick in KOTM, who kept bring up the hollow earth theory like a running joke but then the joke was that he was right.

And that’s at the root of the issues with both movies’ portrayals of conspiracy theories. Aside from the jokes that are never explored (and therefore, never disproven), the movies say that, every time it matters, the conspiracy theorists on the fringe are correct, the heroes that need to be believed. Even though all (excluding Rick) are characters who have suffered deep loss, who have been hurt, who you can imagine as passionate but grieving people who turned to dangerously wrong extremism in their search for meaning... the movies don’t portray them as people who have been led astray by their pain, but enlightened by their pain. Which is what they themselves think they are, sure, but that doesn’t line up with reality.

The movies never forces them to grapple with how far they’ve gone astray from reality—and I think they should. I’d like to see them processing the revelation that their beliefs are wrong. Whether it’s as big as somebody trying to convince Emma that killing half the population doesn’t fix the pollution caused by corporations rich enough to weather a global hurricane, or as small as Bernie looking at Apex’s financial records and realizing the company’s money is going to the CEO’s vacation home rather than a reptile government and deciding to rethink those beliefs after they’ve checked out Hong Kong.

“Conspiracy theorist is right about everything” is already a common enough trope that Monsterverse isn’t breaking any new ground with it. And in a franchise like Godzilla, whose movies are rife with messages both allegorical and literal about environmentalism, corporate exploitation, the futility of military action, international politics, war crimes... letting the conspiracy theorists be wrong and showing that they’re wrong and what that wrongness can lead to would mesh far better with the themes of Godzilla.

Think about Jonah and Emma unleashing Ghidorah (who emerged from a destroyed ice cap and immediately caused devastating hurricanes—a perfect metaphor for climate change), and what that could say about how ecofascists who purportedly joined the movement because they support environmentalism are actually far more in bed with the destructive industries really at the root of environmental damage... if the movie acknowledged them as ecofascists.

Think about how Jonah collected Ghidorah’s head at the end of KOTM and by the time of GVK it was in Apex’s hands, and how this exchange demonstrates that “I want to unleash titans to destroy humanity to save the environment” Jonah the ecoterrorist and “I want to beat the titans to protect humanity” Simmons the billionaire CEO actually have far more similar ideals beneath the surface of their opposed goals—ideals that have less to do with the environment or with humanity and more to do with securing personal power and control... if the movie had explained how this exchange took place.

Think about how Madison’s mother died trying to mitigate just a little of the damage she did under the thrall of a doomsday cult’s skewed beliefs, how even though Madison broke free she found herself embroiled in similarly skewed beliefs just three years later, and how powerful it would have been if she recognized that she herself had walked right back into the kind of fringe beliefs her mother had led her into as a child, and if she had then resolved to learn how this kept happening to her and break this pattern... if the movie had ever let her realize that she was making the same mistakes, or even acknowledged them as mistakes.

There’s so much potential there, so many things you can see happening right beneath the surface... but the movies never touch on them. And so it looks like, in Monsterverse, all fringe beliefs are either right or harmless. And we never get the “disillusioned conspiracy theorist” story that could be so brilliant and that, right now, would be so relevant.

#gvk #godzilla vs kong #gvk spoilers #godzilla vs kong spoilers #godzilla #kotm #meta

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walkerwords · 3 years

Text

“The Savior Sessions” Part 18 of 33 - Negan x GN!Reader

IMAGE CREDIT: AMC

SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: The fair is in full swing, but an unseen enemy still has her sights set on the ones that took her daughter from her. How will this play out when people go missing? And what happens when the reader is faced with a new kind of horror while Negan waits for them to come home to him?

Word Count: 7939

Warning: Swearing, Death of Major Characters, Angst, Graphic Description of Gore

Song I Wrote To: “You Are The Reason (Duet Version)” by Calum Scott and Leona Lewis

Note: I’m Sorry. This is where we get some canon divergence. I will be changing a few things. For one, I don’t think Aaron went to the fair in the show, but he’s there in this story with Gracie. As we move into season 10, I have changed quite a bit. Thanks for sticking with me so far! ALL OFFICIAL DIALOG IS PROPERTY OF AMC

—————

It had been a long time since you had seen the walls and roads of The Kingdom.

King Ezekiel had just given his big speech as he welcomed everyone to the first community fair. Aaron had run off with Gracie as soon as you had arrived. The two of you had left Alexandria before Michonne and Judith were about to head out. Michonne assured you that she would be fine even though you offered to go with her as a security escort.

It was so strange to see so many of your old friends in one place. Tara was there with her people from Hilltop, Alexandrians milled about, and you even spotted Rachel smiling with her women from Oceanside.

If you weren’t feeling the dread from what was waiting for you beyond the safety of the walls, you would have been smiling along with her. However, you couldn’t. The entire ride to The Kingdom, you had been on edge and you thought your reins were going to shred beneath your fingers.

Aaron had told you to relax. He figured Alpha wouldn’t be stupid enough to do anything on the main road. While you wanted to believe that, the sheer fact that you didn’t run into any of the Whisperers made you even more nervous.

Still, you tried for Aaron, for Ezekiel and Carol, and especially for yourself. Aaron had been right, you needed a break. Negan’s tired eyes and concerned smile were still fresh in your mind as you walked among the stalls. He said that you would have a lot to talk about when you got back and he was right. Perhaps then, you would be able to finally get words out that weren’t drenched in frustration.

Till then, you needed to learn to breathe again.

Enid walked next to you, smiling as she too, took in the joys of the celebration around you. You noticed her in the crowd with Alden as soon as you arrived and she had just gravitated towards you, chatting away about the stall she was going to be doing.

“Did you hear what I said?” Enid asked you and you turned to her.

“Sorry, what?” you asked. She gave you a sheepish smile.

“I was just asking if you thought about setting something up?”

“A stall for the fair?”

“Is that such an odd idea?” she asked.

“I just don’t know what I would do,” you said with a shrug.

“You’re a great shot,” Enid reminded you.

“With a gun,” you said. “Not many of those around these days.”

“Yeah, I guess not,” she said with a shrug of her own. As the two of you headed for the main gate, Enid peeled off to go find Alden and you pushed on to meet Carol.

You had briefly said hello when you had arrived, but she was doing her “Queenly” duties and you hadn’t had much of a chance to speak to her. Now, she looked to be gearing up. Ezekiel was next to her along with Kelly, Magna, Luke, and Yumiko.

“What’s going on?” you asked as you approached.

“Henry isn’t back yet,” Carol explained.

“He’s not? But they left last night. They should have beat us here,” you said with a furrowed brow.

“That’s what I thought,” Carol said and you could see a worried look in her eyes. A look you were all too familiar with. A weight settled on your chest as your hand rested on the pommel of Paul’s sword. “I have to go look for them.”

“I’ll go with you,” you promised. While Carol was worried about her child, you were suddenly very concerned for the other teen in the group.

Where was Lydia?

“You don’t have to,” Yumiko said as she pointed over your shoulder. You all turned to see the large doors open. Running ahead of a horse-pulled carriage was a familiar dog with its tail up in the air.

Michonne and Judith sat in the front of the carriage as Daryl walked alongside it. In the back were Connie, Henry, and Lydia. Dog began making circles around everyone as Henry hobbled out of the makeshift carriage and towards his parents.

Carol didn’t hesitate to pull him into her arms. Connie was doing the same thing with her sister and the rest of her family. As Ezekiel grabbed onto his wife and son, you went for Daryl.

“Ya showed,” he observed as you hugged him.

“Aaron suggested I needed a break,” you said and then stepped back so Carol could launch herself at her best friend. Henry was still hugging his dad and that’s when you noticed Lydia watching the interaction with an awkward stance.

You moved immediately to her side and slipped your arm around her shoulders. “Hey, kid,” you greeted and she gave you a closed-mouth smile.

“Hi,” Lydia said.

“Ya alright?” you asked, checking her over in case she was hurt. Lydia just nodded and fiddled with the wooden pendant around her neck.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Lydia whispered and you squeezed her shoulder, pulling her tighter against you.

“I figured it would be boring without my winning personality,” you teased and she laughed a bit at that. She then became very stiff next to you. “What’s wrong?” you asked, but she was staring at something ahead. Looking up, you saw Tara staring at Lydia with venom in her eyes.

“What is she doing here?” Tara said and you placed Lydia behind you protectively. Henry then moved to her side and took hold of her hand. Tara watched the movement with anger.

Michonne, who had been speaking with Ezekiel and Carol as they got acquainted with Judith turned to the King and Queen.

“Gather the leaders,” Michonne said and then nodded at you as an invitation, “We need to talk.”

—————

“I know I haven't always seen eye-to-eye with everyone in this room,” Michonne began, “but I never stopped caring about any of you. I was just trying to protect my family and do right by my people. Alexandria's future is here. Together, with you. And we lost sight of that for a while. But... I'm here now. We're here now.”

Michonne then turned to you and gestured for you to speak. “Michonne, Gabriel, and I have all spoke with the other council members at the fair, and we all agree. Alexandria is willing to grant asylum to Lydia. She's one of us now. We hope the rest of you can join us in doing the same.”

“Since when do you speak for Alexandria?” Tara asked.

“Since I asked them to,” Michonne defended. “(Y/N) has taken up a role that I had never expected. They are more than capable of not only speaking for us but defending us as well.” Tara was quiet after that and you couldn’t help but feel pride swell in your chest at her words. You had been so worried about how Michonne would see you after everything that had been going on with Negan, but she was still the woman you had met all those years.

“Thank you,” Lydia spoke up from her spot between Judith and Henry in the theater seats. “I'll do whatever I can to earn my keep and pay you back.” You sent her a wink and she gave you her signature closed-lip smile.

“If her mother retaliates, it's gonna be against Hilltop, not Alexandria. I have to do right by my people. I thought we were on the same page,” Tara said.

“We were,” you said.

“Look, when she came to my gates,” Michonne said, “I asked her to run away. And when she didn't, I was angry.”

“Then you know why I'm not okay with this,” Tara said.

“I do. I also know why Rick didn't trust me when I showed up at the gates of the prison. And how people didn't trust you after seeing you on the other side of the Governor's firing line,” Michonne said.

“Or how Daryl nearly took my head off when he met me,” you added and Daryl raised a brow at you, remembering the moment.

“I was gonna kill you on sight when you washed up on our shore,” Rachel added.

“Okay, okay,” Tara said. “That’s fair.”

“Lydia didn’t choose where she came from,” you said. “None of us did, but she deserves the chance to be apart of something. She deserves a family who will care about her.”

“Second chances don’t come around often,” Rachel added, supporting you. You thought that statement was ironic considering who was constantly living in your mind.

“I left some of my best fighters at Hilltop, but if Daryl's right about these skin job numbers, it's not enough people,” Tara said.

“We should take a group to Hilltop to protect ‘em just in case,” Daryl said.

“I’ll take some from Kingdom,” added Carol.

“Oceanside can spare some,” Rachel said.

“Alexandria, too,” finished Gabriel.

“Nobody is going to fight this war alone,” you said. “The only reason we won the last one is that we were together. If Alpha does come after us, we can’t afford to be on different sides anymore.”

“So, we head out in the morning?” asked Rachel.

“Nah, we go today,” Daryl said. “Best not to give them any more time.” Michonne then spoke up again.

“In order to face this threat, the four communities have to present a united front. Which is why I'm proposing a mutual protection pact. An attack against one community is an attack against all of us. Together, we can make these people think twice before moving against the Hilltop,” Michonne said and you and Gabriel nodded, backing her up.

“The leadership of the Kingdom is very amenable to this idea,” Ezekiel said after looking to his Queen.

“Oceanside is in,” Rachel agreed.

“So, how do we seal it?” Tara asked. “Cause I’m not doin’ a blood oath with (Y/N).” You just smiled sweetly at her.

“I have just the thing…” Ezekiel said as he got up and walked into the wings of the stage. From a crate, he pulled out an old theater poster frame, and from it, he pulled the community charter.

“You’ve had that thing this whole time?” you asked, impressed.

“I’m a man of many surprises,” he said and you raised your hands in surrender.

“Fair enough.”

Ezekiel lay the charter on the table and one by one, the leaders of the communities signed. Rachel signed for Oceanside, Tara for Hilltop, Ezekiel and Carol for The Kingdom, and Gabriel for Alexandria. You looked at all the people in that room as you stood next to Daryl and you felt as something big had just happened.

Everything was finally coming together and your family was finally whole again.

--------

You and Judith began walking laps around the fair.

The young girl picked at a candy apple that she held in her hands. “Can I ask you something?” Judith asked, peering up at you from under her hat.

“Go for it,” you said.

“Did you talk to him before you left?” she asked.

“Subtle,” you said, flicking her hat.

“I’m just making sure you’re okay,” Judith said. “I don’t like it when you two fight.”

“When did you become such a matchmaker?” you asked.

“I’m not!” she said. “I can just see that he likes you a lot...maybe more than a lot.” You paused in your tracks.

“What do you know?” you asked, your eyes narrowed.

“Nothin’,” Judith said, but you weren’t buying it.

“Remember Jude, I watched you grow up. I can see through you,” you said.

“Nope, I’m a wall!” she announced as she bit into her apple again.

“Right,” you snorted.

“But are you okay?” she asked, this time her voice was a bit more serious. Well, as serious as a ten or eleven-year-old could be.

“Yeah, kid, I’m okay. I actually think I figured it all out,” you said. Which was true, you had figured it out, but now you were just trying to get the courage to do something about it. All in all, no matter how angry you were with him or how upset, what you felt for Negan was bigger than all of it.

“Good,” she said with a smile. As the two of you walked, you began to feel a chill in the air. You noticed Lydia and Henry up ahead walking hand in hand and as your breath became visible before you, you shivered. “I think a storm is coming,” Judith said.

“Yeah?”

“I can feel it,” she said.

“Where’d you learn that trick?”

“From Mom who learned it from Uncle Daryl,” Judith said. You couldn’t help but smile at her then.

“Smart,” you said and she laughed before grabbing your hand and dragging you further into the fray, her candy apple swinging alongside her.

---------

Back in Alexandria, Negan lay on the floor of his cell as he tossed a ball in his hands.

When the door to the cell opened, he had no idea who it could be and because he knew it wasn’t you, he didn’t care. However, when he heard the person clear their throat, he did sit up.

“What do I owe this pleasure?” he asked. Laura stepped further into the light and in her hands was a new winter coat.

“there’s a storm on the way,” she said. “I was asked to give you this.” Negan stood as she passed it through the bars.

“Thanks, Laura,” he said and she nodded. Negan hadn’t spoken to his former lieutenant since the fall of the Sanctuary, at least no more than a few words here and there.

“I’m sorry,” Laura suddenly said. Negan was confused as he braced a hand on the bars.

“What are you apologizing for? Isn’t that my job?” he asked.

“I’m sorry that your life ended up like...this,” she said, but Negan was already shaking his head.

“Don’t apologize for the shit that I did,” he said. “You know better than anyone that what I was doin’ was eventually gonna get me dead or locked up. I guess I can just be glad that Rick didn’t cut any further than he did.” Laura nodded, hearing him.

“Still, you were always fair to me and kind. I also wanted to thank you. While being a Savior wasn’t the most moral of things, if you hadn’t found me all those years ago and brought me to the Sanctuary, I’d be dead.”

“Silver lining, then?” he offered.

“A small one,” Laura said. Negan smiled softly at that.

“I’m proud of you, Kid. You managed to make a new life, one that I should have tried to give you years ago. Don’t screw it up.”

“I won’t if you won’t,” she said and then offered her fist to him. He bumped it with his own.

“I’ll take that deal,” Negan said. Laura smiled and then went to leave, but right before she left, she turned one last time.

“Oh and if you hurt (Y/N), I’ll castrate you with a rusty spoon,” she said with a grin before leaving. Negan stared after her and he was suddenly very aware of everything on his body.

“Fucking hell.”

-------

Eventually, it was time to head to Hilltop.

When you told Aaron you were going to help, he wasn’t surprised. “I knew you couldn’t sit still for long,” he had said. “Just be careful.”

You promised that you would and headed to the main gate to prepare to leave. Daryl was getting his bike off the trailer when you found him. You were tightening your sword’s scabbard when he looked up.

“Ready to go?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “Lydia is gonna stay here and then Aaron and Gabriel will bring her to Alexandria.”

“Sounds good,” you said.

“Mmhmm,” he said. “Are you in any rush to get back there?”

“You and Judith spend too much time together,” you said with a knowing look.

“So, you and Negan…”

“We really don’t need to talk about it, D,” you said.

“Are ya sure?”

“I’m so over talking about it,” you admitted. “I just gotta do something.”

“When ya do, I don’t need the details,” he snarked.

“Asshole,” you muttered and he just smirked. “Where ya gonna go after we get to Hilltop? I heard Ezekiel offering you to make Kingdom your home.”

“Not sure if this place is gonna last much longer,” he said with a sigh.

“You know that Alexandria is always going to be your home, right? No matter how long it’s been.”

“I know,” he said.

“We can’t keep running, Daryl. Come home,” you said. He was quiet for a moment before he dropped his head.

“Alright,” he agreed, “but after we handle Hilltop.”

“Okay.”

Soon everyone was saying goodbye and assuring that they would all be safe. Tara was sending her people out first before following after. Ezekiel was trying to get her to stay for the rest of the fair, but she said that she needed to get home. So, Dianne was going to lead her soldiers home.

As you were securing Daryl’s bow to his bike, you noticed him with Dog as he spoke to Connie. It was subtle, but there was something about his body language that told you a lot. Perhaps Connie was more than just a friend. You watched on as he awkwardly waved to her and when he turned back to you, his eyes narrowed.

“Shut up,” he said as he went up to you.

“I didn’t say anything,” you said.

“Nah, but you were thinking it. I can see it on your face,” he said.

“She’s pretty,” you said.

“And yer annoyin’,” he countered.

“Hey, who am I to judge?” you said with your hands raised.

“Yeah, exactly.” With a roll of your eyes, you climbed onto the back of Daryl’s bike as he took the spot in front. Michonne waved to Judith as you and the others pulled out of Kingdom. You hadn’t seen Lydia before you left, but Ezekiel said that he would keep an eye on her for you.

It was odd that you had essentially become her advocate with Daryl as her main protector. You never imagined you would essentially become a parent to a messed up teen, but here you were.

Yumiko and Magna rode behind you, their weapons at the ready and you kept your head on a swivel as you all move through the woods. Walkers were around, but only a few at a time and were easily taken out by the archers. Still, any time one would make itself known, you could feel Daryl tense in front of you. It was going to be a long night.

You were well into the ride when you came across three men who flagged you down.

Carol seemed to know them as she walked up to meet them. “What’s wrong, Ozzy?” she asked.

“Ya gotta see this, Boss,” the man, Ozzy, said. He seemed very concerned as he gestured you all forward. Daryl shouldered his bow as he followed and you and Michonne were right behind him, both of your hands on your swords.

The Highway Men, as Carol referred to them, had been acting as security and watchers for The Kingdom. They were good trackers, fighters, and were the newest addition to the community. What they had found on their patrol, worried you a lot.

It looked as if a pack of wild animals had attacked a caravan. “We were clearing the roads. Spotted tracks leading here,” Ozzy said.

“It's from Hilltop,” Yumiko said, holding up one of the wooden pendants that were crafted there. The same one that Lydia wore around her neck.

“Walkers didn’t do this,” you said with a glance to Daryl “This was people.”

“Skins?” Michonne asked and then looked to the Highway Men. “You know about them?”

“We got the download,” Ozzy confirmed. “We would have seen any people out here with my patrols, but not if they were covered in Skins.”

“Fantastic,” you said, your nerves growing.

“(Y/N),” Daryl called, “look at this.” You met him down by the broken carriage and realized what he was seeing.

“They fought back,” you said. “They were dragged away. That way,” you said with a point.

“Come on,” Daryl said.

“We can’t all go,” Dianne said. “If this was the Whisperers, then they would have followed this from Hilltop. We need to get back.”

“Michonne and I will go with (Y/N) and Daryl,” Carol said. “Rest of you ride for Hilltop.”

“We can continue our patrols around here,” Ozzy said and Carol nodded.

“Alright,” said Michonne. “We’ll see if we can find them and bring them home.” You nodded to Michonne and then everyone was shaking hands and promising to meet up later. Yumiko then joined you, offering her bow.

“Stay close and if you see Walkers, don’t hesitate. They could be Whisperers,” you said.

“And if they are,” Michonne said, “go for the kill.”

—————

“I really don’t like this,” you said as you walked next to Yumiko. Carol and Daryl were in the front while Michonne was at the back, her Katana in her hand.

“Neither do I,” Yumiko said as she gripped her bow tighter. “Do you people do this a lot?”

“Only when it’s necessary,” you said. “We try not to get involved, but we usually end up doing just that.”

“I don’t know how you do it,” she said.

“We do it because nobody else will.”

“And your families, are they okay with this?”

“My family is right in front of me,” you said. “We’ve been fighting since day one, I don’t think any of that is going to change.”

“Then I’m glad that I have you on my side,” Yumiko said and you gave her a half-smile.

“Me too.”

Daryl was tracking the Hilltop members that were attacked. You kept back, but mirrored his steps, just in case he missed anything. He never did, but it was a force of habit. All you could think about was Alpha’s face and every shadow in the woods was keeping you on edge.

“Don’t give her an inch…” Negan had said. He had wanted you to be strong and you weren’t going to let him down. Whatever happened when you saw him again, it didn’t matter. You just needed to see his face again. That was what kept you going.

You had to get home to Negan.

“Magna is worried about me,” Yumiko said, trying to change the mood. You nodded, grateful for the distraction.

“That’s actually a good thing. It means she cares about you,” you said.

“Do you have one? A Magna?” Yumiko asked.

“Sort of,” you said with a sigh. “It’s complicated.”

“Word of advice,” Yumiko said. “Uncomplicate it because if you are lucky to have them, you better keep them.”

“Thanks, Yumiko,” you said and she knocked your shoulder with her own.

As you walked, Michonne and you both took down Walkers with your blades, taking their heads off their shoulders. It took you a few to get the hang of the new weapon, but it was beginning to feel natural. You would definitely need to do some proper training with Michonne when you got home though.

It was after dusk when Daryl told everyone to halt. Then, from out of the trees came Walkers that you instantly recognized.

“They’re from Hilltop!” you said as you went for the first one. In a long arc, you swung your sword at the Dead man who came at you. His head was cut from his body and you pierced the brain as it rolled to your feet.

From there on, more and more Dead converged as the sun set and darkness wrapped around the five of you. “I can’t see,” Yumiko said.

“Stay together!” Daryl shouted, placing you at his back as you and Michonne leveled your blades. The archers, all three of them, let go of their bows and drew their knives. Daryl held two blades in each of his hands as he prepared to strike.

“Watch their hands!” Michonne yelled as the Walkers fell upon you. You could feel the blood from the other Dead splashing on the back of your neck as you fought your own Walkers.

Your arms stung from the exertion, but you couldn’t slow down. Fear settled into your bones as you fought, but Negan’s voice returned to you.

“You are stronger than them and the only way they win is if you let them,” he had said and with those words being screamed in your head, you swung again, feeling your adrenaline spike.

“Back to the road!” Daryl yelled and everyone began running. “This way,” he grunted reaching for you, but before you could find him in the dark, the sound of a gun cocking had everyone freezing in their steps.

“Drop them,” a horrific whisper said and if you hadn't already been scared, that sound chilled you to your soul. More and more whispers came from around you and your grip loosened on your sword. “I won’t ask twice.”

“Beta…” Daryl sneered and you felt your heart fall into your heart. Beta was alive and you could feel the anger that echoed around him. One by one you all dropped your weapons and the Skins picked them up. Seeing the dirty hands of a Whisperer touch Paul’s sword made you sick.

“You just had to give me the girl,” Beta whispered. “No one else had to die. Now that deal...is done.” His words washed over you and no matter how many times you tried to focus on Negan’s face or his voice, all you heard was Beta’s horrifying voice.

“You touch the girl and I’ll tear your throat out with my teeth,” you snarled. Beta walked up to you and grabbed you by the throat, angling your face to meet his. You stared back with unwavering disgust.

“You make veiled threats,” he said.

“Come a little closer and we’ll see how veiled they are,” you said, pushing in closer. Beta shoved you back and you stumbled into Carol who quickly righted you.

“Take them,” Beta ordered and his people moved in.

One by one, you were tied up. The Skins tied your hands behind your back and pressed blades to your backs, forcing you to walk ahead, leading you somewhere. Your heart was trying to leap from your chest, but you took deep breaths as you tried to keep a level head.

You could still smell the rot that revolved around Beta and it made your stomach churn. You were forced to walk behind Yumiko whose hands were moving. In the moonlight, you could make out some of the shapes and realized she was signing.

“Stay calm,” she was signing over and over again. You were very grateful then that you knew ASL well enough to understand her.

You walked for a bit longer before you reached a clearing and suddenly, you were seven years younger. You half expected for headlights to light up the surrounding area. Daryl and Michonne must have felt it too as they were tense as well.

However, this time, Negan would not be there to just kill two of you. Beta could slaughter all of you for no reason and then turn his sights on Kingdom, Alexandria, and then Hilltop and Oceanside. This was it, you thought, you were going to die.

The Whisperers pushed you into a semicircle, making sure your hands were still secured. You were between Daryl and Michonne and tried to focus on their breathing, but it was difficult. Even if they were thinking of an escape plan, nobody could voice it and nobody was coming to save you.

From the darkness, Alpha finally made herself known. She crept through the night like a predator stalking her prey. Expect, Alpha didn’t kill for food, she killed for sport.

“You ain’t getting her back,” Daryl said, facing down the Matron of the pack.

“You think this is about my daughter?” Alpha asked, tilting her head. “I ran into some trouble on the road,” she said, wiping blood from the knife in her hands on her pants. You struggled against your bonds, wanting to rip her eyes out with your nails. “It was unavoidable.”

“Bullshit,” you shot, but Alpha ignored you.

“Do you like my new camp?” she asked. “My people like to keep moving, keep roaming.”

“We’ve granted Lydia asylum,” you said. “You try to take her and we will fight back.”

“What is your name?” Alpha asked, stopping in front of you.

“...(Y/N),” you said.

“Do they speak for you?” Alpha asked the others.

“We speak for each other,” Daryl countered. Alpha sniffed, unaffected by Daryl’s attempt at camaraderie. Instead, she continued to pace in front of the five of you.

“My daughter isn’t a concern anymore. She was weak, she never lived up to expectations.”

“Was?” you asked as the worst-case scenario entered your mind. “What did you do to her!” Still, Alpha ignored you.

“To be clear,” she said, “your group is in no position to threaten me. That is a habit that needs to be broken.”

“Oh, I’ll break something,” you threatened and Alpha merely smiled at you as if you were some child she was humoring. Turning her attention back to Daryl she pointed at him.

“Come with me,” Alpha said. “Just you.” Beta cut Daryl’s bonds and then pushed him forward. You struggled to go after him, but you couldn’t move.

Daryl glanced back at you once more before following Alpha into the darkness of the trees.

-------

Daryl was gone for a while, and with every minute that ticked by, you grew more fearful that his body was somewhere being torn apart by the Dead.

You, Michonne, Carol, and Yumiko were sitting together by a fallen tree as you waited to be released. Beta was across from the four of you, watching the woods, waiting for his orders.

You began to think about Rick. What would he do right now? What would he say? You also began to think about the conversation you had once had with Negan about evil and humanity.

Alpha and Beta were evil and there was no doubt about it. Evil was around you and you could not find a shred of light to hold onto. Rick had wanted to build a new world, but if this is what it was going to look like, you didn’t want it.

“This is not how I’m dying,” you whispered.

“Nobody is going to die,” Michonne said. “I don’t think Alpha wants to kill us.”

“She said ‘no one else had to die’, meaning she already killed those Hilltop people and now she’s going to keep going. With us.”

“Just try to stay calm.”

“This is me calm. I’m calm and I’m pissed.”

“We’re going to get out of this,” Carol said who hadn’t taken her eyes off of Beta since she sat down.

“I left too much shit unfinished,” you admitted, unable to stop yourself.

“I know,” Michonne said and there was a bit of pity in the tone of her voice. “You know, I actually wish for his psycho ass right about now,” Michonne said and you couldn’t argue with that.

“Don’t we all,” you agreed.

“Who?” Carol asked and Michonne hesitated, but you just shrugged.

“Negan,” Michonne said.

“Who’s that?” Yumiko asked.

“Asshole who we have locked up back home,” said Michonne.

“You think he could take on Beta?” Carol asked, but you shook your head.

“I don’t think a bulldozer could take on Beta,” you said with a glare in the man’s direction.

“Negan would be a good distraction,” Michonne figured and then stopped speaking as she saw the look in your eyes. “Or not.” Carol looked at you in confusion.

You couldn’t imagine Negan going up against someone like Beta. Everyone you had seen him fight, he had been the bigger one. He had been the one in charge and the one with the edge. Negan fighting Beta would have been like a Mustang charging a Semi Truck. That was not something you wanted to see.

“Am I missing something?” Carol asked.

“No,” you and Michonne said at the same time. Carol narrowed her eyes but didn’t push it any further. Instead, you all sat there in silence as you waited for the fate you were sure you were about to meet.

You didn’t know how much time had passed when the sun began to rise again. Nobody spoke and nobody moved as the Whisperers began to disperse. Beta then gestured to you and your companions.

Slowly, his people approached and cut your bonds. Nobody dared to move as Beta watched over you. He then ordered his people to hand back your weapons.

“Go West,” he sneered. “You’ll find your man.”

“Come on,” Michonne said, moving Carol in front of her as Yumiko followed. You hesitated, glaring at Beta who leveled his knife at you in something that felt like a promise. Almost as if he was saying that the next time he saw you, he was going to kill you. In your mind, you made the same promise.

The sun rose quickly as you hiked through the woods, following Beta’s orders. “Something feels wrong,” you said as you fastened your sword to your side. Carol was holding Daryl’s bow and blades as you walked.

“We got out, that’s all that matters,” Michonne said, but you had a feeling something was very wrong.

It didn’t take long for you to find Daryl.

He seemed unharmed, but you could tell he was angry. Carol reached him first, handing him his bow and kissing him on the cheek. Michonne hugged him too and Yumiko clapped him on the shoulder. When he reached you, you hugged him tightly.

“I thought she was going to kill you,” you said.

“Nah, not yet,” he said and then nodded his head in another direction. “This way.”

You all followed Daryl who seemed to be on a mission. Whatever Alpha had told him had him set on a path and you were willing to go with him no matter what.

You walked until the sun was finally above you and then, Daryl picked up his speed. “Daryl?” you called, but he just kept running. Eventually, you saw what he was running towards. “Oh my god.”

“Siddiq!” Michonne yelled as she ran up the hill towards the Doctor who was leaning against a dead tree and behind him, was another.

“Enid!” you yelled as you saw her struggling as well. You slid to her side, using one of Daryl’s knife that he tossed to you to cut her bonds. As soon as she was free, she nearly crawled to you, gripping you tight. Enid was shaking and so was Siddiq who held onto Michonne. “Shh, it’s okay,” you assured her.

“What happened?” Michonne asked, but both of them could barely speak.

“I… I…,” Siddiq stuttered out as Enid pointed up the hill with tears in her eyes. Slowly, you pulled Enid into you and began the trek up the hill.

“No…” you whispered in horror as you saw what was ahead. It was too far to make out details, but the smell of fresh and Dead blood wafted towards you. Enid was trembling in your arms as tears fell down her face.

Nobody spoke as you crested the hill, but nobody needed to as you got closer. As soon as it became apparent what was before you, Yumiko fell to her knees and Michonne gasped in pain.

At the top of the hill were nine pikes and on each one, was the head of someone you knew.

You started at the beginning, your bones as cold as ice as milky white eyes stared at you. They hadn’t killed the brain and as you looked at the first pike, Ozzy, the Highway Man, was staring at you with vacant eyes and a gaping mouth. Next to him was Alek, and then, DJ.

Your heart sank as you saw who was next. Frankie, one of Negan’s former wives and a spitfire of a woman. Her red hair blew in the wind as blood and gore dripped from the flesh at the base of her severed neck.

Tammy was next and Enid cried harder as she saw the older woman. A woman you knew who had taken care of Enid at Hilltop. You struggled to keep the young woman upright, but it was difficult as you nearly collapsed when you saw the next two.

Rodney and Addy.

The teens that you knew from Hilltop were gasping with their breathless mouths as their gray skin dulled in the sunlight, but who was next made you crash to the ground.

“No!” you screamed as you saw Tara’s dark hair blowing in the wind.

Enid fell next to you as the woman who she saw as a sister stared at her with empty eyes. Sobs echoed out of you as you stared at her, but that wasn’t compared to Daryl who immediately began yelling.

“No, No!” he yelled as he ran for Carol “Just look at me, just look at me,” he said as he held onto his best friend. That’s when you finally looked at the final pike and everything around you broke.

It was Henry.

Enid was leaning all of her weight onto you just as Siddiq was doing to Michonne. Carol had fallen into Daryl and Yumiko was crying as she beheld the horror.

Alpha had done this. She had taken these people from you, but left two alive as witnesses. She had killed children, friends, leaders, and left you feeling empty.

You had been through so much, lost so much, and, yet this felt as if someone had torn your soul from your body. As the wind continued to blow, all you could hear were Enid’s screams and Carol’s sobs as yet another child was stolen from her.

---------

“We were there,” Siddiq began as he stood on the stage in The Kingdom.

You stood next to Daryl and Lydia was in front of you both as you listened. Enid was across from you in the protective arms of Alden who hadn’t let her go since you returned.

“Enid and I were taken with the others. And I saw... We were supposed to die with them and I was ready to.” Siddiq went on, speaking for both him and Enid considering she could barely say a word. Aaron was sure she was in shock.

Siddiq went on, “Then, Alpha whispered in our faces as she knelt before us, ‘Tell them’, she said… she then said that two sets of eyes were better than one. Then, something hit me, and everything went black.”

Lydia leaned back into you and you gripped her tight. You noticed that Daryl was holding onto the other side of her. You knew that you needed to protect her now more than ever.

“And when I woke up, it was just the two of us,” Siddiq said with a look to Enid who stared back with red-rimmed eyes. “What happened was evil. It was evil. And I think she left us alive to tell you that story. To scare you and to drive us all apart again. But I want to tell you a different story.” Siddiq then looked at you and you could see that he was struggling. You gave him a nod of encouragement.

“See,” he went on, “before the end... Ozzy, Alek, and DJ found us and they gave us an opening. And everyone fought back. They fought like hell. And what they did was more than brave. 'Cause they defended each other. And they sacrificed for each other... And some of them... they didn't even know each other, but they still fought like they did. Like they were family. 'Till the very end.”

Tears were flowing from his eyes and your own, but you tried to put on a brave face for him, for Enid.

“And in the end, they... Their time was cut short, but ours keeps going. So we have to keep going. For them and for all of us. We need to honor them. We need to honor them, and we need to remember these friends, our family, died as heroes. That's the story that I want to tell you. That's the story that I want us all to remember.”

In the quiet of the fair as Ezekiel and Carol cried in silence, you swore that you would remember and when it came down to it, you would avenge them.

—————

Once the pikes were taken care of and the tears stopped, for the time being, people began to move out.

However, as winter moved in, The Kingdom was no longer capable to house the members of the community. They would need to move and Michonne was going to stay to help them do that.

While you wanted nothing more to help, you needed to be somewhere else, with someone else. As you stood by the main building of The Kingdom’s square, Michonne approached you.

“There’s a storm coming,” she said quietly, her voice a bit hoarse from crying. You were sure that yours sounded the same.

“I know.”

“We need to move these people to Hilltop and Alexandria,” she said and you nodded in agreement. “(Y/N),” she said, “can you get her home, please?”

Turning to look at her, you were surprised to hear the desperation in her tone. “Michonne?” you asked.

“Please, get Judith home and protect her. Protect my daughter,” she said, once again on the verge of tears. You pulled her into your arms and clutched at your friend. You hadn’t been the closest with Michonne since she arrived at the gates of the prison, but you had a feeling that was about to change.

When you pulled back, you held her by the shoulders and looked her in the eyes. “I will,” you said. “I will protect her with my life.”

“They were brave,” Michonne whispered and you knew who she meant.

“Yes, they were,” you agreed. “And we will not let their deaths be in vain.” Michonne nodded, gripping your arms.

“Go to him,” she said.

“Michonne…”

“No, you listen to me,” she said as it was her turn to be serious. “I do not care what people think about him. Don’t worry about that. He could have lost you and as much as I have my demons when it comes to Negan, you have to go. Trust me when I say that Death does not discriminate when it comes to the man someone loves. Even if that man is...unconventional.”

“But…”

“No,” she cut you off. “Take Judith and go home. Stop overthinking it, (Y/N). You said you had left things unfinished, right?”

“Right.”

“Then, finish them.”

—————-

The ride to Alexandria was very different than the departure.

You rode on a horse alongside the carriage that held Gabriel, Aaron, Gracie, Judith, Eugene, and others. Nobody spoke and nobody relaxed until the comforting gates of Alexandria were in view.

For the kids’ sake you put on a brave face, but as soon as your horse came to a stop and the gates slid closed, you could barely keep it together. “Scott!” you called as you dismounted. He ran up to you as you helped Judith down from the makeshift carriage. “Take her,” you begged the man. He nodded as he gathered his bag. You then turned to Judith. “You need to go to your brother,” you said.

“What?” she asked.

“Go find RJ and give him the biggest hug he can handle, okay?” Judith nodded at your words.

“Are you going to be okay?”

“Not for a while,” you admitted, and then she was wrapping her small arms around you and you let a tear slide down your cheek. “I’m going to come over later and we’ll have dinner, okay?”

“Okay,” she whispered and with a final squeeze, you let her go as she ran after Scott who was waiting for her. Ignoring Aaron, Eugene, and the others, you turned your back on the stables and began to run.

You didn’t slow as you ran towards the main street. Your boots slid on the slick spots of ice that littered the ground, but you kept going. Stopping before the Grimes house, you searched your pockets for your key ring.

You couldn’t get your hands to stop shaking as you found the right one and jogged down the steps towards the jail. Slipping the key in the lock, you shoved the door open.

The loud noise alerted Negan to your presence. He was laying on his cot, but when he saw the tears that flowed down your cheeks and coated your collar, he launched to his feet.

“(Y/N)?” he asked, staring at you in shock. You kept moving, switching the key on the ring and inserting it into the lock of the cell itself. You wrenched it open and faced him, taking him all in. “What happened?” he asked, staring at you with concern.

You didn’t answer him right away. Instead, you took your time to memorize his face, the set of his jaw, how his shoulders were settled on his torso, and especially that wonderful light that was in his eyes. You choked back another sob as you moved into his space.

“(Y/N)?” Negan asked you again. Reaching up, you placed your hands on his face, feeling the warmth of life beneath his skin. With a deep breath, you got your voice back.

“Don’t make me lose you, too,” you whispered and then, you gripped him by the back of his neck and pulled his lips to yours.

Negan immediately wrapped his arms around you, holding you closer to him as he kissed you back without hesitation. It was as if a dam broke inside you as light burst behind your eyes. Negan kissed you tenderly, but it was full of urgency as well.

Pulling yourself tighter against him, you were worried that he would be pulled away at any moment. He didn’t seem to be ready to let go either as he lifted you up, tilting his head back to get a better angle.

Your tears dripped down onto his face, wetting the stubble on his jaw, but he didn’t care. Negan didn’t care about anything else at that moment. All he cared about was you in his arms as he finally got to show much you meant to him.

When you pulled back to get some air, he set you down. Negan looked at you in awe and while you knew you had to explain what had happened, there was something you had to say first. Something that you had felt for a long time.

“I love you, Negan,” you said, your voice soft as it mingled with his own breath. He looked in your eyes and you watched as the words resonated with him. His eyes grew softer and all the tension in his body dissolved. Negan reached up and placed his hand against your face.

“I love you, too,” he said and then pulled your lips back to his.

You clutched at the man in your arms, your new reason for living. You knew that war was finally coming and that Death was not done with any of you yet, but in that small cell, in the arms of the man you loved, you let it all become whispers on the wind as the first snowflakes began to fall.

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mismashedsocks · 4 years

Text

so riordan made a half assed lame excuse on his lazy/racist writing on piper yesterday and on top of that he made another one on samirah and i’m muslim so i am going to talk about it

damn i’m so sorry these people have been pushing you past your comfort zone about your wildly popular racist caricatures of minorities that have great impact on your young, impressionable target audience. while its fine that if he takes a break for his mental health he still needs to deal with these problems you can’t just take a break and hope they go away.

why does he think everyone is bullying him. if they talked in all caps, cussed at you, or didn’t stop bothering you, i’m sorry they’re just trying to get you to realize how racist your books are, which you keep refusing to believe. i can believe that a few of them were doing it for attention, but it couldn’t be the majority. and my god, god forbid people want you to write your books the way you preferred, without racist stereotypes. 🙈

you can set your boundaries but you keep ignoring the people, you don’t listen. like you put yourself out there as a writer you are open to criticism

why does he keep doing this to seem like the good guy. you give excuses and don’t do anything and just say that its up to you, you can think whatever you want 🥰🥰. like its such an obvious excuse not to take any action.

i’m sorry but no matter how many muslims you’ve interacted with you haven’t gotten the full experience and last time i checked teachers aren’t the kids best friends soo uhm. anyways the rest of it is just him telling his experience with muslimah students so its just there.

so uhm you just said your students ‘unwillingly’ become an ambassador to everyone she knew’. and then you went to talk to them about islam to make sure you were TEACHING THEM YOUR SOURCE MATERIAL CORRECTLY. i’m sorry imagine. these are kids not some scholars you go to consult. there are so many muslims all over the internet and youtube sharing their experiences for you to access on how to ‘represent their experience’ correctly. you’re the teacher here. picture this:as a muslilm, i teach at a public school and while teaching about Christianity in class, no i would double check or some dumb shit with the students. like educate yourself i’m sorry. anyways apparently he blames his mistakes on himself then goes on to deny he ever made any mistakes i can’t.

so this is a blatant lie. 99% of muslims i’ve met have never read all of sahih bukhari and sahih muslim. usually only scholars do that when they are studying islam for YEARS. and FIVE different interpretations of the quran on top of that. ok so sahih bukhari is 9 books that are over 300 pages each and sahih musilm is 7 volumes with also about 300+ pages each. and then the english versions of the quran are 600 pages. and he claims he read five of them. i’m so sorry but no he didn’t. he writes books so fast and he released mcga around the time toa was being released almost one book per year so he did not have a lot of spare time. the rest ig i can let slide. also and if he did do all of that why does he make so many mistakes in writing samirah. and even IF you accept his excuses reading ALL of this source material is great for teaching your class or whatever but not for writing a modern day muslim. you don’t need to lie to us rick ❤️

most of this is just describing what she’s like but his writing did also add in the model minority, smart kid trope. like no they don’t have to be a terrorist or a A+ student who is the best at everything. there is a middle ground to their personality.

i actually used to love his rep in sam. that’s how i got into the series. i saw a hijabi girl on his website. i got excited and read all of his books. i loved piper, leo, hazel, percy, annabeth, sadie, carter, nico, everyone. now that i look back i was younger and didn’t see anything wrong with it back then. its great that he tried to portray minorities but he did it so badly and now is just denying the faults that his now older readers are trying to tell him.

hey, uhm didn’t you read all of sahih bukhari and muslim? hmm i didn’t think so. anyways the way he dealt with it honestly wasn’t that bad. but the whole ‘whoops’. like why does he keep portraying himself as the innocent old white man just trying his best.

honestly how he wrote samirah as a hijabi was the dumbest thing i’ve ever read. its is totally fine if she wasn’t hijabi, many muslim girls aren’t, and that is their choice. but he decided to make her like a weird middle ground. it was so lazy and inconsistent. in the first book she says she wears it when she needs to, like in situations like going to the masjid. this was fine, since many muslim girls do that. then in the next books she wears it all the time except when she’s in valhalla for some reason. hijabi girls take of their scarves when they’re at home or with family, but making her claim the entirety of vallhalla as her family. that was just demeaning and stupid to me. it takes away its value. and i fucking hated that last sentence. for hijabis, their hijab is important and not a toy or weapon or a MAGIC ITEM. and then on top of that she would have to take it of to hide. he could’ve made it anything else. her hijab isn’t some token item istg.

i love how he admits that they are a big problem and abusive and usually engage with child marriages. i’m relatively he doesn’t understand what the people even meant by it. the practice is a problem that isn’t supposed to be seen in a nice light. the only possible way it could be slightly ok is that if ADULTS agree they 100% do not want to choose who they want to get married to and let their parents choose, and both sides agree. samirah was a child and he decided to make her wedding life decided since the age of 12. and it was ok because amir was conventionally attractive and she loved him. WHAT IF SHE DIDNT. this literally is a dangerous arranged marriage. and arranged marriages are not ok, and mostly perpetuated by victims of it who will end up passing it down their family lines. my parents got an arranged marriage and I HAVE NEVER SEEN THEM DISPLAY ANY SIGNS OF AFFECTION. arranged marriages are not a trope that your can turn around to be a quirky personality trait for your characters.

i’m sorry that’s not how arranged marriages work. most likely if she said something her grandparents would have shut her done and continued with the marriage, as that is what you usually happens. do not portray the small amount of consented, ‘happy’ arranged marriages as the majority. it is a huge problem that many desi/middle eastern cultures are trying to erase. even on top of that he writes situations where she’s going to be in trouble for acting up and ‘jeopardizing the marriage agreement’ and that her grandparents think she’s ‘lucky that she could get the fadlan family to agree to marry their son to her’. these statements are often used in forced and dangerous marriages, so don’t try and justify your actions. if you wanted to show traditional customs in a positive light, there are so many richer parts of samirah’s culture you could’ve focused on and you chose arranged marriage. 😻 all you’ve done is given parents and authority figures a westernized resource to justify arranged and forced marriages, especially with the minimal explanation on how the marriage isn’t forced in the actual books. and yes, your books do condone child marriage samirah is clearly deemed into this marriage ever since the young age of 12. she lived her life knowing she would marry amir. no one has only one crush throughout their life. imagine how she would’ve grown up. sorry you only consider opinions that align with those in you mind.

i’m going to be honest i did like that one scene it was written nicely and accurately but the explanation he gives just ruins the entire thing. the way he just if this strikes you as islamophobic, or samirah as a hurtful, uhm no explanation i just disagree 😽. the way you wrote her is a hurtful stereotype sorry you can’t see it.

oops, you did. too bad you don’t want to do anything about it.

why do you think people are painting you in a negative light, so many of your characters are written on hurtful and negative stereotypes. people aren’t painting it that way, you need to calm down w your ego and listen. dang i’m sorry your best is giving half-assed excuses and not actually doing anything. i’m even more sorry people are mad that a highly privileged author that has a lot of influence is done talking about his racist depictions of minorities in his books.

dang must be lucky to take a break from the social media, imagine what all the minorities you wrote about have to go with everyday weather they are on social media or not. people aren’t bullying you this is valid criticism you refuse to listen to.

fuck you

obviously these are my opinions do not judge every muslim based on what i’ve said come to me if you have a problem with it

anyways support jewish, muslim, black, brown, asian, hispanic, indigenous, lgbtq+, disabled, and other minority authors and creators.

#anti rr #fuck him at this point #samirah al abbas #she deserved so much better #i probably made so many spelling mistakes smh #long post #mcga #rr crit

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troop-scoop · 3 years

Text

Youth III

Chapter Three - Brawford

Word count: 2.3k

Series Summary: On a family trip to your dad’s home town of Hawkins, Indiana, you make a series of decisions that result in you ending up in the year 1983 with more questions than there are answers presently available.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Female Reader ( slow burn )

Chapter Summary: Some semblance of trust with Jonathan is built. Steve shows what you’d consider his ‘good side’ and you remember things from your early childhood and before you ended up in 1983.

⟛⟛

“Where do you need to be dropped off?” Jonathan questioned quietly, turning down the music on the radio. The rain had let up a half-hour ago, and the sign welcoming drivers into Hawkins had been passed five minutes ago.

“Oh, the um – the motel. . . on Brawford.” You answered just as quietly. It was beginning to get dark. It always got dark quicker in the fall. You forgot why, but it always added to the feeling of fall. Dark orange sunsets and pink sunrises, leaves falling onto the concrete pavement for little kids to jump on while walking to school. At least that’s what you were reminded of in the early days of November.

But November always made your dad anxious when you were growing up. He’d always be tense throughout the first part of the month like he was ready for something bad to happen that he could focus all his attention on. But now, maybe you were actually beginning to understand why he got so uptight. Now that you thought about it, he really began to get nervous in late October as well, and in July was when he’d take a week or so off of work completely. Those were the days that worried you. He’d be held up in his office going through old things of his that he kept hidden away in the closet until that time of year.

November made sense to you now. But October and early July? Those were odd.

“The motel? Like, Linda’s motel? The lady who’s daughter used to babysit me?”

“Well, the owner is named Linda, I didn’t know her daughter used to babysit you.” You responded, shifting in your seat to cross your legs and bring your arms to tighten around yourself. “But yeah. You know, the only motel in Hawkins.”

Jonathan nodded, taking a right turn onto an unmarked street. But it was the way to the motel, you knew that.

“You’re emancipated, right? That’s the word around school.” The attempt at small talk was genuine, and it was obvious by how he gave you a quick glance before looking back to the road.

“Yeah.” Was your only answer. You didn’t know how to elaborate on that. You didn’t have papers. Just a load of cash you’d saved for over a year from doing chores, random bets with friends that you’d won. It allowed you to pay for a room and cheap food. But Linda had offered to let you stay there for free if you helped her around the motel. You’d agreed. So you washed sheets, made sure appliances were still working in rooms, cleaned rooms when people checked out, and went about their business.

The motel came into view when Jonathan turned onto Brawford, and the first thing you’d noticed was the red BMW parked near the front office, with a familiar brunette leaning against the trunk of the car. There was only one person in all of Hawkins you knew who had such an expensive car.

“Harrington knows you’re staying here?” Jonathan asked, pulling into the parking lot and into a spot a few spaces away from Steve’s car.

“I never told him.” You responded, reaching into the backseat, grabbing his shoulder bag, and pulling it into your lap. Counting out the number of posters, you took half of the stack and a random pen from the bag. Tearing off a corner from a poster you wrote down the number for your motel room and handed it to him. “If you need help with anything, call me. I’m serious.”

Jonathan nodded, taking the small piece of paper as you got out of the car. The sound of distant cars driving by against the set street could be heard, as well as drops of water sliding off the roof of the motel and hitting the metal railing. You looked at Steve, hearing Jonathan drive out of the parking lot and down the street.

“I wouldn’t expect to see you here, Your Majesty.”

Steve scoffed, rolling his eyes at your greeting. He crossed his arms over his chest, which is when you noticed the thin black notebook, with red ink scratched into it. He saw you look at the notebook and he held it out to you.

Holding the stack of posters close to your chest with one hand, you reached out and took the notebook from him with the other. “Mr. Swann told me, to tell you, to stop writing in red pen.” You chuckled a bit at his comment, placing the posters on top of the notebook and holding it close.

Steve gave you a questioning look before reaching his hand back out, his index finger hooking onto the notebook and pulling it to be parallel with the ground so he could see the posters. “You’re helping Jonathan? I thought that was about your project?”

Sighing, you pulled the notebook back. “His brother’s missing, Steven.” At the sound of his full first name, Steve shifted uncomfortably. “No one at school is in his corner, right now. Sure, people are volunteering, and the cops are trying to help, but no one at school is actually trying to support him. Besides, Will needs to come home.”

“He’s a bit odd. I’ve known him since preschool, I just-”

“He has issues opening up. That’s it. I’m sure having people think you’re odd since preschool doesn’t really help.” Steve sighed at that, looking down at the ground, kicking the ground with his foot, almost gently. “You know, if you went missing, I’d help try to find you.”

At that, the two of you seemed to switch demeanors, with him looking up at you and you turn your attention to the wet ground. “Begrudgingly.” You added quickly, getting a laugh from him.

“Well. . . It’s something, I guess. Not as rude as I thought.” He joked, moving to open the trunk of his car. Looking up you watched as he pulled out a plastic bag, and hold it out to you.

“If you put anthrax in there-”

“Y/n, are you serious? Where would I get drugs?”

“I mean, I’ve heard you talk about weed before.” You responded, taking the bag from him. Holding the notebook and posters between your upper arm and ribs as you held open the bag and reached in for something that was in plastic packaging. Turning it in the bag to see the Sony logo. A metallic, pink, rectangular device in the packaging. “A walkman?”

“Yeah, I figured you’d like one. Everyone else seems to have one, except for you.”

“What’s the catch?” You asked, tilting your head.

Steve shook his head, placing his hand over his chest in fake offense. “Catch? What, I can’t buy something nice for a friend?”

“Oh, so we’re friends?” You asked, a smile creeping onto your face. “I already owe you like five bucks for lunch last week, it’s starting to feel like you're trying to collect as many favors that you can cash in whenever you want.”

Steve shook his head again. “No. I had to go to Radioshack for my mom, I saw the Walkman and thought you’d like one.”

Nodding in response you grabbed a plastic case, the cover for a familiar album. “AC/DC? You bought me cassettes?” You hadn’t had anything to listen to music on for a while. Sure M.TV was available in your motel room, but the speaker was fuzzy and sometimes cut out during the best parts of a song.

“You don’t really strike me as Rick Springfield kind of person.” He shrugged. “You seem more like a rock kind of person.”

“Hey, Jessie’s Girl is gonna be a classic, just you wait and see. You’ll be begging your future kids to stop playing it.” You responded. “But. . . yeah. I get it from my dad. Queen, The Smiths, The Clash.”

The two of you stayed quiet for a second as you looked into the bag again, seeing a few more protective cases for cassettes.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come over? Carol’s been up my ass all day about trying to get you to come, and from what I’ve noticed, you don’t hang out with people outside of school.” The concern that was mixed into his voice was subtle, but you noticed it, and you’d lying if you said you didn’t appreciate his concern. He cared about people. While a lot of people wouldn’t see Steve Harrington as the type, you knew he was. He was just so wrapped up with Carol and Tommy that he didn’t take the time to realize he treated others.

“I’m sure. Parties aren’t really my thing, even with only a few people. Three’s a crowd, ya’ know.”

Steve gave an understanding nod. “Right. . . Enjoy your music, by the way, asshole.”

“Enjoy your party, douchebag.”

⟛⟛

The smell of coffee, cinnamon, and fresh baked goods surrounded the coffee shop as you held onto your little brother’s hand. The two-year-old little boy had just started to walk outside of the home, though he still insisted on holding someone’s hand. Considering you were the closest to his height, he usually went for you.

Waiting by the counter with your dads for your drinks allowed your gaze to wander. The warmth that the shop usually offered seemed to fade, and be replaced by a cool air that surrounded you and as that happened you saw a young woman with a child around your brother’s age. She wore a pale pink sleeveless shirt tucked into a flared skirt. Her hair was neatly done and put up, and her jewelry was sparkling around her neck and wrist. A single silver ring with a diamond on her left ring finger.

The woman looked directly at you, readjusting her grip on the infant she was holding and giving you a warm smile as she walked towards the counter.

Looking up to your dads to see if they had noticed her as well, you saw they were talking to each other, and when you looked back over to where she had been, the warmth of the coffee shop came back and the woman was gone, as well as the child.

⟛⟛

“Torrey-”

“Oh hush, James.” Torrey held her finger up to James’ mouth, he stepped back a bit, grabbing onto Olivia’s shoulder as the older girl moved to her bed, reaching under and grabbing a bag from underneath. “We’re going on an adventure. Buddy up, losers.”

Looking over to your left you saw Daniel looking at Torrey with a skeptical look, sitting on the arm of the rundown couch in the motel room. His brown hair unbrushed and sticking up in random directions. The imprint of the seam of his pillow in his cheek from when he was sleeping. You already felt bad enough that you had to wake them up because Torrey was on some sort of sugar rush.

“This is a terrible idea,” Olivia grumbled, pulling on her vans and hoodie. “Dad’s gonna kill us.” She added, speaking mostly to Derek. James, Derek, Issac, and Olivia were all siblings. With Olivia being the only girl in the family and probably the second most reasonable out of her siblings. James was first in that regard.

“What? You think mine won’t kill us?” Torrey asked, gesturing to her two younger siblings, Sarah and Howard. “They’ll be fine,” Torrey added, gesturing to you and Daniel. “Uncle Will is always nervous to even take something away from them. Especially, Y/n. She’s daddy’s little girl.”

“Shut up, Torrey!” you told her, grabbing your jacket from the armchair. “I am not ‘daddy’s little girl’ I do what I want!”

“Oh yeah? Then don’t chicken out, we’re gonna go to the liquor store. I’ll buy you guys some drinks, just not actual liquor. I’m not gonna be responsible for Uncle Will’s little girl getting blackout drunk.”

“You know how Will is with her, he’ll lose his shit if he knows she even left for the vending machine!” James defended you.

“No, I’ll come! I can keep a secret.” You responded, looking up at your oldest cousin, even in the dim lighting with only the lamp on Torrey’s nightstand on, you could tell that her dark brown eyes were narrowed in doubt. “You know, for someone who’s in college and engaged, you’re a terrible influence.” You told her.

“Believe me, I know. Buddy up!”

Sighing, you looked over to Daniel who had gotten his shoes and jacket on as well and was already walking over, taking your hand as Torrey went over to the door, unlocking it and looking both ways down the walkway, before turning to look at the rest of you who had already grabbed someone’s hand. She held her finger up to her lips letting out a ‘shhh’ before slipping out of the door, with Derek and Sarah following right after, then James and Olivia, You and Daniel, then Howard and Issac following right after. On your way out, you noticed a small dent in the wall, like when you missed the nail and the hammer hit the wall instead. It had clearly been painted over, but it was there.

Issac closed the door with a quiet click just as you had all reached the stairs, quietly stepping down the stairs and down into the parking lot.

Your cousins didn’t seem to notice, but you had, the front office was lit up, the floor to ceiling windows allowing you to notice the old woman, likely in her 80’s looking at all of you, but making eye contact with you. She looked as though she’d seen a ghost.

The owner of the motel came out from the backroom, going to the old woman and taking her away from the windows. The younger woman was still older, but she looked at you all as well and froze.

You knew staring was considered rude, but you couldn’t help but stare. Both women seemed as though they’d seen something unbelievable. You only looked away when you were so far away that you couldn’t see them anymore.

⟛⟛

Add yourself to the taglist!

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#steve x reader #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction

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jodiereedus22 · 4 years

Text

New Life

A/N: New one-shot for you all you all!! hope you enjoy it!!! As always thank you to @crossbowking for always supporting and motivating me and for being my friend!!!!! <3

Word Count: 2701

Trigger Warnings: mention of rape

You were walking along, trees at every turn of your head, the sun beating down through the tree canopy, dragging your feet. The world was hard enough but trudging around with a nine-month belly protruding out made it so much more difficult and at times impossible.

You had to stop for a rest what felt like every five minutes, your legs hurt, your feet hurt, your shoulders hurt from carrying what little supplies you had.

You hadn’t eaten properly in a couple of days and that worried you more than anything because of your unborn child, but the gentle kicks of your baby gave you comfort.

Finding a comfy enough looking tree to rest on you slowly lowered yourself down on a low branch, knowing that if you got on the floor, you'd ever get back up again.

So, you sat there, taking in the comfort of the shade, drinking a little water, being careful to ration it as much as was safe, you didn’t know when you would be able to get more water.

You leaned your head against the rough trunk, closing your eyes for a second, you were exhausted, you hadn’t slept properly for days, either because you had nowhere safe to hold up, or that baby was making you uncomfortable.

You tried to take in the sounds of nature, the slight breeze rustling through the trees, the chirping of the birds. This was the most relaxed you had been in a while, resting your hand on your baby bump.

But the peace and quiet was shattered by the rusting of leaves on the forest floor, the breaking of twigs underfoot and the groaning of the dead.

You tried to get up as quickly as possible, cradling your belly and reaching for your weapon.

You grabbed your knife and steadied yourself and built up the courage as you lunged as much as you could forward and stabbed the walker in the head, but as the walker went down two more took its place and you knew – you were in trouble.

You scrambled backwards, trying to keep an eye on the walkers coming towards you whilst trying to balance yourself.

One walker gained on you quicker than the other, standing by the tree you a moment ago found solace, you waited for the walker to come to you, trying to conserve as much energy as you could.

As it got closer you reached out and grabbed the walker, pulling it towards you with your knife at the ready as you pushed the knife through its skull and shoved it against the tree letting it fall to the ground.

While you were so focused on that walker the other one had gained on you without you noticing, with no time to prepare to attack the only thing you could do was retreat.

As quickly as you could you spun around, waddling your way to the edge of the trees where your next obstacle was a steep bank.

You stood for a second, catching your breath and looking behind you, checking on the walker that was still on your heels.

With your stomach protruding the way it was the only way up the bank was backwards and on all fours.

You awkwardly lowered yourself down and made you way up the bank your head towards your goal so you could see where you were going.

You got halfway up when something grabbed your ankle, you turned your head back to face the front, seeing the walker latched on to you. You tried kicking it off, but its grip tightened and started pulling you down the bank. You looked into the jaws of the creature that could be your end as you let out a blood-curdling scream.

You felt yourself sliding towards death, as you rolled to try and get more leverage causing your unborn baby to drag along the forest floor, and as cliché as it sounded, your life flashed before your eyes, but more importantly the life your baby would never have.

You used whatever fight you had left in you, clawing your fingers into the dirt, hoping to find something to grab onto when suddenly you stopped being dragged down. You turned around to see an arrow sticking out of the former walker’s head.

You rested your forehead against the cool ground trying to compose yourself after what just happened.

“Ya al’ight?” you head a voice cut through the air.

“Yeah,” you said breathily.

You pushed yourself up onto your knees, placing a comforting hand on your baby, your back still facing the stranger.

You managed to spin yourself around, sitting in a position that was more comfortable and seeing the stranger that saved your life - or rather strangers.

Two men were standing before you, one was clean-shaven, short hair, nice clothes, he looked clean which made you think he had a place to call home, somewhere safe. The other man, holding a crossbow, must have been the one that killed the walker, was the complete opposite. He was gruff-looking, he had a beard, long hair and was dirtier than the other man, he looked like an outdoorsman.

You sat there taking in their appearance, holding onto your baby bump when you noticed the looks on their faces, a look of shock.

“What? Never seen a pregnant woman before?” you said sarcastically as you tried to raise yourself from the ground when suddenly two hands entered your vision.

You looked up to see both men offering a hand to help you get up. You took both of their hands as they lifted you off the ground.

As you got to your feet you felt a sharp stabbing pain in your back, you hissed in pain and placed a hand on your back or support.

“Ya good?” the archer asked.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” you said, thinking it was probably the adrenaline wearing off and the ordeal you just went through, you were not in a fit state right now.

“You on your own?” the clean-shaven one asked.

“Yeah,” you answered reluctantly, you didn’t know if telling these people, you were alone was a good move, it was a risk.

“For how long?” The same man asked.

“Not sure, found this couple a while back, stuck with them for a bit. A herd came through, they sacrificed themselves to save me and my baby,” you told them, your hand subconsciously finding its way to your bump.

“Look my name is Rick, this is Daryl, we have a place, a safe place for you and your baby,” his head pointing towards your baby bump.

You took a moment to think, you just met these people, you knew nothing about them, you couldn't put your finger on it, but when you looked at the archer, something in his eyes made you trust them.

You gave a tentative nod and immediately Daryl and Rick grabbed your things and started escorting you to their vehicle.

Rick took the lead and Daryl watchfully walked beside you.

Whilst walking, without any warning you felt warm liquid run down your legs.

“Shit,” you swear, looking down.

“Wha’s wrong?” Daryl asked before diverting his eyes to where you were looking.

“Shit,” Daryl mirrored. “Rick, we got a problem,” Daryl calls out to Rick who just reached the truck.

The pain was unbelievable, you knew it would hurt, but not this much, at least you hoped not this much, you had no idea what was going on around you but before you knew it you were in the bed of a truck with Daryl by your side.

“Talk to her Daryl, keep her calm,” Rick shouted over the air blowing past the moving truck.

“Ermm, hey, hey,” Daryl tried to get your attention. “Just breath, okay!” Daryl instructed.

You tried your best to breath through the pain, but with every contraction, it was getting harder to do so.

“Hey, I… er… never got your name?” Daryl said.

You let out a breathy laugh.

“(Y/N), my name is (Y/N),” you told him as Daryl gave you a small smile.

“So, er, where ya from?” Daryl asked awkwardly, starting conversations wasn’t his strong suit.

“A bit of everywhere,” you said, keeping your answers short trying to concentrate on not feeling the blinding pain that came with the contractions.

“Where’s the dad?” Daryl blurted out, he wasn’t quite sure why he did, and even though she was in so much pain he saw her pause like she was frozen in time, only when she cried out in pain did, he know she wasn’t frozen.

“No father,” you said gritting your teeth and panting, clinging to your pant leg turning your knuckles white.

“Here,” you looked over at Daryl as he offered an outstretched hand.

Daryl didn’t know what you meant by no father, but he knew now wasn’t the time to press on it and he thought it wasn’t really his business.

“You sure, I don’t want to hurt you,” you asked nervously, and Daryl gave you a small nod.

At that moment you couldn't believe where you were, at the end of the world, dead roaming around, about to give birth and on the road to a place you had no idea what you were potentially walking into, in the back of a truck with a stranger offering his hand to hold.

You gritted your teeth once again as, yet another contraction hit, you looked in his eyes before you took his hand in yours.

The biggest contraction yet hit, causing you to break from his eyes as you screamed out, gripping Daryl's hand in a vice-like grip.

“Sorry,” you said through your gritted teeth.

“Don’ be,” Daryl said, looking back into his eyes, you felt a sort of comfort, of trusting even though he was a complete stranger.

“We’re here,” you heard Rick shout.

You had no idea where you were, your brain couldn't take in anything right now, the only thing you noticed was big iron gates closing behind you.

Daryl hopped off the back of the truck and reached out two hands out to you, you took them both as he pulled you towards him until your legs were dangling off the back of the truck.

You slowly lowered your feet to the ground, trying to take deep breathes at the same time, as Daryl supported your weight by your waist, but with the first step, you almost collapsed, Daryl's arm being the only thing that prevented you from falling to the ground.

“I can't,” you said breathless and in pain as you doubled over.

Without a word you were suddenly lifted in the air and found yourself in Daryl's arms carrying you bridal style as he walked with you in his arms down the street with Rick taking the lead.

Daryl carried you through some double doors, to what you could tell was an infirmary and set you down on a bed.

A nice woman came up to you, you assumed she was their doctor as she had the coat on, she introduced herself as Denise and she placed a blanket over you.

“Okay, I'm gonna need to take your pants off okay? See how far along we are,” she asked in a soft reassuring tone.

You gave a gentle nod as you helped her as much as you could get your pants off as you turned your head to see Rick and Daryl in a deep conversation.

“Well, my,” Denise blurted out causing all heads to turn to her.

“Wha’? is everythin’ okay?” Daryl asked before you had a chance to.

“Everything is fine,” she said placing a comforting hand on your knee. “We’re just further along than I thought, in fact, it’s time (Y/N),” Denise explained.

You looked at her in shock, you knew the time would come, but part of you still wasn’t ready.

“So (Y/N), I'm gonna need you to push okay?” Denise instructed you.

“Alright, we’ll leave you to it, just holler if you need anything,” Rick said as he and Daryl made their way to the door.

“Stay,” you blurted out, looking towards Daryl. “Please don’t go.”

You had no idea why you said it, you just knew that you didn’t want to do this alone, and at that moment Daryl was the only one you wanted by your side.

Daryl looked towards you, looking in the eyes of a terrified girl, and then looked back to Rick and gave him a nod.

Rick proceeded to leave as Daryl made his way towards the bed, standing by your side.

“Okay (Y/N), when your next contraction comes you need to push okay,” Denise directed.

You nodded, getting ready, well as much as you could get ready when a hand came into your view once again, you looked up at Daryl, a sense of Deja Vu coming over you as he gave you a reassuring smile, you took his hand once again, comfort washing over you.

The birth was long and painful, you were absolutely exhausted, but what came at the end of it was totally worth it as you looked down at your sleeping bundle in your arms. Your baby girl was perfect.

“Ya did good,” Daryl spoke quietly as to not disturb the new-born.

“Ya want me to put her in her crib, ya need ta rest,” Daryl offered.

You were reluctant to hand her over, but he was right, you needed sleep, you couldn't remember the last time you had a good sleep, let alone in a real bed.

Daryl gently scooped her up in his arms and softly placed her down in her new crib.

“You wanted to know about her father?” you brought up.

“Huh?” Daryl asked, distracted by the beautiful baby girl.

“The father,” you reiterated.

“Ya don’ have ta tell me anythin’ ta don’ wanna,” Daryl reassured you.

It wasn’t a nice story to tell but you needed to get it off your chest and for some reason you needed Daryl to know, you trusted him for reasons you couldn't explain.

“The short version… I was raped,” you came straight out with it, Daryl’s head whipped so quickly in your direction you were surprised he didn’t get whiplash.

“It's okay, I've made my peace with it,” you said taking a deep breath. “At first I didn’t want the baby. I didn’t want it to be a constant reminder, but the more it grew, the more she grew, the more I didn't want to punish an innocent baby.”

You took a deep breath after your admission, wiping a tear that had fallen down your cheek.

You braved a look at Daryl, shame in your eyes, worried about his reaction.

“Hey, it wasn’t your fault, and look at her, she perfect, and you're gonna be a great mom,” Daryl told you, taking a seat by your bedside.

You turned to him, locking eyes, you saw a loving gentle soul, you saw someone – who in some way – understood you, that felt empathy but not pity.

Daryl saw a young woman who had gone through things no one should have to go through, but he saw strength in her, and kindness, that despite everything, radiated from her.

“I decided that this baby was gonna be the most loved baby in the world,” you declared, making Daryl smile.

Despite everything that had happened to you before and after the world ended you were glad that this new world brought you to Daryl.

Daryl took your hand once more, and stayed with you as you feel asleep, declaring to himself there and then that he would protect you and your baby no matter what and as he looked upon your sleeping form he saw – for the first time in the very short time he had known you – a peaceful look upon your face – and that’s the way he wanted it to stay.

He pulled the crib nearer to him so that you were both in his view, he shifted his view from you to the baby and decided that he would make a happy life for you and your baby and he hoped he would be able to share it with you.

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andy-clutterbuck · 5 months

Text

9x03 | Warning Signs

#bout to make like that time I played Life and had so many kids i had to get an extra car #Rick Grimes #Judith Grimes #*#rg #S9 #im fine #it's fine #everything is fine #kids aren't even my thing at all #but now i want to know where my child support check is richard #THE BEST DADDY

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tinydooms · 4 years

Note

Prompt - Evy has a nightmare, Rick hears her and comes to check on her. She asks him to stay. They talk about Hamunaptra and recall the first time they met. He holds her as she drifts off to sleep and he falls asleep too

Okay, so this prompt is months old, and I hope this Anon still checks out my page from time to time, because I’ve finally written this story! Many thanks to @sweetfayetanner and @sheahoneygoth for the beta. :-)

Not If It’s You

Cairo, November 1922

Evie lay across the altar, her left wrist still manacled, watching as the undead priests held Rick down. He struggled against them; he was strong, but they were stronger. Another approached, holding a stele in its bony hands and laughing. Evie screamed and thrashed; her legs were stuck, only one free from its chains. She couldn’t pivot and kick at the mummies, couldn’t save him.

“No!” she screeched. “Rick!”

Rick struggled, reaching for his sword, but the mummy had closed in. It hefted the stele and let it fall. The enormous slab of stone landed hard on Rick’s torso; there was an awful crunch and Rick’s breath rushed out of him along with a stream of blood and gore, his eyes springing open in pain and horror.

Evie screamed and screamed, struggling against her bonds, thrashing. But Rick lay still on the stone floor, blood dribbling from the corners of his mouth, blue eyes sightless, dead. Evie wailed--No, it didn’t happen like this!--Rick was dead, he was dead, he was--

“Evie, wake up! Come on honey, it’ a bad dream, wake up--”

Evie leaped awake, sitting up with a cry in her own bed at home in the Zamalek house. Someone had switched on her bedside lamp, though she didn’t register it at first. Cold sweat soaked her pajamas and her heart felt as though it was about to leap out of her chest. Gasping, Evie rubbed her hands over her face, the image of Rick’s dead eyes and bloodied mouth still too close for comfort.

A warm hand touched her shoulder; Rick’s hand, gently squeezing.

“Easy, honey,” he said. “It was a nightmare. Are you awake?”

“Oh, god,” Evie said, and almost fell off the bed in her hurry to wrap her arms about him.

Rick, kneeling beside the bed, caught her and pulled her into his lap, settling down on the mattress. Evie clung to him, her face in his neck, shivering. Rick was warm and solid and alive in her arms, his arms snug around her, one big hand stroking her hair as he rocked her.

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “Whatever you dreamed, it’s not real. You’re safe. It’s okay.”

Evie nodded. She felt vaguely silly, clinging to him like a child, not a grown-up woman of twenty-five, but she didn’t let him go. Instead, she breathed in his new-familiar scent and tried to relax.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered at last, raising her face from his neck. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t,” Rick replied. “I was coming back from the bathroom and heard you crying. Do you...do you want to talk about it?”

Evie rubbed her hands over her face. “I feel a little sheepish. I dreamed of...of Hamunaptra.”

Rick nodded, waiting, and after a moment EVie pressed on.

“I dreamed that you were fighting the priests, his priests; they knocked you down and held you and--” she hesitated and Rick squeezed her hand. “And they killed you. They dropped a stele on you and you died, and I could do nothing to save you.”

An odd look passed over Rick’s face. He bit his lip and nodded. “That’s not unusual, dreaming that you can’t save your companions--”

“Not just my companions,” Evie said. “You. They killed you and I couldn’t bear it--I can’t bear the thought of anything happening to you.

In the dim lamplight, Rick blushed, color washing over his face. Evie was so surprised that for a moment she forgot her own sorrow and reached to touch his cheek.

“Is that so unusual to you?”

Rick flashed her a tiny sideways smile and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, I’m not used to being…”

“Cared for?” Evie supplied when he hesitated.

“Loved,” Rick replied.

Evie sat back and looked at him. In the handful of weeks since their return from Hamunaptra, Rick had become indispensable to her, a quiet, steady presence both in her home and at her library. Kind, dependable, funny, she loved him more than she would ever have imagined she could love anyone. It had never occurred to her that maybe this was all new to him, as well. Rick, watching her, felt his stomach clench.

“Have you never been loved before?” Evie said at last, and at least her own nightmare seemed to be forgotten.

“I--no. Not like this.”

Who on earth would have loved him these last few years, when his hands were filthy with war and his life in shambles? Evie’s face was a study; she looked bewildered. Rick rubbed the back of his neck again, embarrassed.

“I was...in a bad place after my last battle. A real bad place. I’d had a bad couple of years even before the War, and then they made me join the Legion and sent me to Gallipoli, and I just kind of stopped being a person, if that makes sense. It was easier to be a soldier, to live one moment at a time. And afterwards, I just fell apart; I could barely live one day to the next and I didn’t--there isn’t room for any kind of relationship when you’re in that kind of place. I didn’t want to burden anyone.”

Admittedly, Rick had had the occasional willing partner before he had broken down completely, but he had known better than to lean on any of them. He had been alone for so long, he had stopped even hoping that it would change. But here was Evelyn; she had dreamed about him, had been so disturbed by his imagined death that she had screamed herself awake. Evelyn, who smiled whenever she saw him, and kissed him, and was his friend as well as the girl of his dreams. And he was so afraid of losing her, of scaring her off.

“You’re not a burden,” Evie said, shaking her head. “People need to lean on each other; it’s in our nature. And I know it’s stupid to dream about Hamunaprta, especially since it was a mistake of my own making. It’s not a real horror, like what you and Jonathan went through in the War.”

Rick stared at her. “Evie, it’s not a competition. Hamunaptra was a fight for our lives, and it wasn’t any less scary than the War.”

Evie thought of Jonathan, haunting the corridors of their English house at night, afraid to sleep because of the nightmares, of waking Rick up the other night and seeing the tears wetting his lashes. She looked at Rick’s hand wrapped around her own and back at his face.

“Will you stay with me?” Evie asked. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

“Yes, if you want,” Rick said, trying to ignore the way his heart was racing. Sleep, they were going to sleep, not...just stop right there, O’Connell.

Rick stood and shook out the blankets as Evie punched the pillows into shape. Watching him, Evie was once again struck by the oddity of him, this big strong man who was so soft and gentle with her. Rick had told her a little about his life before the War, how he had been raised by a single mother and then unceremoniously dumped in an orphanage when she died. And now there was the admission that he had fallen apart after the War. He had had a hard life so far--how was it that he was so loving?

“May I ask you a question?” Evie asked as Rick slipped into bed beside her.

“Of course.”

Evie curled into his side, twining herself around him with one arm around his chest and her foot on his. “Where did you learn to take care of people?”

She felt Rick smile into her hair. “My mom. And then later at the orphanage. I was this big tall kid and the smaller kids looked to me to protect them from bullies.” He shifted, settling into the bed, and began to stroke Evie’s hair. “I knew how I wanted to be treated. I was so homesick, you know? I was just a kid myself. I wanted my mom and it seemed the best way to deal with it all was to look out for the others, to try to help them feel a little better.”

“And who looked after you?”

For a long moment, Rick was silent. “Nobody looked after me.”

There it was again, that sense of loneliness that she often got from him when he talked about his past. Evie squeezed him, trying to put a lot of unsaid things into her embrace.

“There’s a Greek play,” she said. “I can’t remember who wrote it at the moment, but there’s a pair of lovers and one of them is going through a rotten time, and he says to the other that he can’t imagine why they would love him enough to stick with him. He says, ‘it’s rotten work’, and the other replies, “Not to me. Not if it’s you.’ Do you understand?”

Rick nodded and rested his forehead against hers. For a long moment they leaned against each other, and it should have been weird, breathing in each others’ faces like that, but instead it was only wonderful. Rick kissed her cheek. He wanted to stay here with her, like this, forever.

They sank back towards sleep together, snugged together under the blankets, and this was medicine to both of them. This was safety; this was home. They would support each other for the rest of their lives.

#The Mummy #my fanfics #asks #prompts

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stonecoldjerseyfox · 4 years

Text

Jersey on my mind (part 30)

“It’s gonna be a great day.”

Daryl turns his head from the robin, sitting on the ridge of a roof, further away and that he’s been fixing his gaze on for the past half an hour and observes Rick. His friend lets down his shoulders and relaxes his spine, takes a deep breath and lets himself take in the silent calmness of the morning surrounding them. He’s right. It’s gonna be a beautiful day.

The breeze hasn’t even bothered to wake up today. It’s the two of them, the robin, who sings his morning song, to announce that a new day has begun, and the walkers.

“Yeah.”

“Gotta continue working on the wall.” Rick proclaims, as if to create a to-do list in his head of today’s chores. “Check blueprints, find materials. Gotta go on a run.”

“Great.” Daryl replies and nods at Rick. He’ll get to go, he knows it, and he doesn’t mind. As if he were a tame fox, who no matter how domestic it may seem, constantly needs a certain degree of freedom and nature. But he doesn’t mind returning back here either. Not anymore. “I’ll go.” He continues. “Just tell me whatcha’ need.”

“Yep.” Rick takes another deep breath. “What a day.”

His sudden discovery of nature, the surroundings and an overbearing serenity hasn’t sprung from nothing. He watched by Carl’s side for days. Didn’t sleep, didn’t eat properly, not until Carl sat up in bed and ate himself. The eye was completely destroyed and had to be removed. Thanks to Denise, Rosita, Tara and Mila, who, thanks to her previous profession as a dental nurse, knew how to sterilize scalpels and tools, as well as use sedatives and anesthetics. Thanks to their care, Carl got better, as did Rick.

“What time is it?” Rick says. “Seven, or eight?”

“Prolly.” Daryl looks at the sun. He watched it rise, heard the birds wake up. Rick joined him shortly after. “Early.”

“Ya’ wanna go back to the house?” Rick asks. “Get some rest?”

“Nah.”

Rick fixates him with his gaze, very ‘nice cop’-like, yet friendly and somewhat cheeky.

“When I first met Lori-” Rick says, then smiles faintly, chuckles. “Boy, I was- Couldn’t eat properly. Couldn’t sleep. Like I went around in a haze and just thought ‘bout her.”

Daryl nods a little, smiles very faintly, but inside of his chest, his heart takes a skip.

Has it been two days, forty-eight hours ago he went downstairs holding hands with Jersey when everyone was eating breakfast at the big table?

After their escapade in the shower, resulting in soaking clothes that had to sundry at the porch roof, they stayed in the bedroom for the entire day. Juri wasn’t in bed when they came out from the bathroom, holding their soaking wet clothes. The smell of breakfast toasts was enough for Mila to understand that Juri was downstairs. Daryl left late in the afternoon, to join a group that has started to create a temporary barricade at the broken wall. Carol brought a late dinner to the working group.

“How strange, I think I saw these particular clothes sunbathing on the porch roof earlier.” She said cheekily and bumped his hip, while he took a bite of a sandwich.

“Shut up.” Daryl scoffed softly.

“Pookie.” Carol grinned and shook her head.

He returned late and when he entered the bedroom again, both Mila and Juri were asleep, spooning each other on the bed surrounded by books, soft toys and cassette tapes. He sat down in the comfortable chair, didn’t feel like waking ‘em up by laying down next to them, where he fell asleep.

Their presence downstairs the morning after that was a silent, visual proclamation that yeah, it was the two of ‘em now’. Or the three of them, including the kid wedged at Mila’s hip in his pajamas, barely awake, but determined to not skip breakfast. Daryl’s heart pounded harder than ever in his chest as they settled on the ground floor, next to each other in front of the entire Atlanta group at the table. Harder than when he stood in the yard as a child and saw the house, his home, burn down to the ground with his mother in it. But it was different. As if his chest was flooded with a warm, deep sense of pride, a sense of belonging. The group hadn’t, thankfully, made a big scene of the silent announcement, which was as big of a deal to him as if he’d announced he’d become the president of the whole damn united states of whatever. It was clear to him, when they sat down at the table, set with pancakes and toast, that the others had already put two and two together. Was it Carol who blabbed, or was it by any chance Rick? Anyway they took it without any fuss. Thankfully. He’d never pull through such a questioning.

But Rick’s right, to some extent. He’s been in a constant haze for awhile now. He can’t put his finger on when the haze was inevitable, must’ve been during their walk to the gas station, but might just as well be earlier. She had a special impact on him from the start. Those blue, piercing eyes looking at him over the barrel of the gun after they’d saved him and Aaron. He can’t get enough of ‘em.

“Guess ya’ right.” He therefore says. Why would he lie? Apparently they’re the talk of the town now anyway. Jeez. As if the townies don’t have else to talk about?

“That hurricane of- I dunno, feelings. They’re good. Validation that everything’s just- perfect.” Rick says and by doing so, puts his finger on something Daryl have felt some kind of guilt for, not always, fuck no.

But it’s a feeling he struggles with from time to time, if just for a second or a minute. He’s not good for her, or more correctly; not good enough. But that feeling’s swept away as soon as he notices her looking at him. The blue eyes smiling at him, as a lagoon of homeliness and deep affection.

“Never done this before.” Daryl says husky.

“No one has.” Rick replies while looking at the robin. “There’s a first for everyone. Ya’ just- gets a hang of your own mind. The rest goes by itself.” He makes a movement, and gets up from the boards. “I’ll go get some water.” He announces.

Rick climbs down the ladder and Daryl looks after him as he strides over to the store. He smiles faintly to himself, lets his experienced gaze wander slow and steady over the closest surroundings at the other side of the makeshift wall. A few walkers have miraculously managed to remain on the site since they made a raid and eliminated most, after the great battle. One of them seems to have ended up in a loop; over and over again it crashes into the hood of an abandoned pickup, whose tires have almost grown stuck in the asphalt, which has been taken over, slow and steady, by mother nature.

A soft tapping on wood gets his attention. He turns his head, and happens to see something at the lower end of the ladder.

“Mornin’.” He greets Juri, who’s small, soft hands squeezes the second step of the hard, wooden ladder. “Wanna come up, kiddo?”

Without hesitating, Juri climbs the tall ladder, with the walkman in his pocket and the headphones around his neck. The big blue eyes are determined, curious. Almost at the top of the ladder, Daryl grabs the boy by his armpits and lifts him up to the platform. The three and a half year old is an early riser and has managed to dress himself this morning too, except the shoes that Juri wiggles in front of Daryl, to tie for him.

“Ya’ gotta learn to do this on ye’re own someday, kiddo.” Daryl says and ties the tiny Chuck Taylors.

A small index finger is pointed right at him. Juri looks at him with a clever grin, as to say: ‘Well, until then, you’re doing it for me’. Yeah, that’s probably true. Daryl lets out a faint chuckle. Being bossed around by a kid is something new.

“Ya’ mom’s asleep?”

Juri nods. Daryl smiles. Before he left the night before to join Abraham at the watchtower he checked in on Mila and Juri. Juri was tucked in for bed and Mila had curled up next to him, supported by at least four pillows, with two books about bunnies in her lap; The Velveteen Rabbit and The Naughty Bunny.

“See ya’ in the mornin’.” Daryl said, stroking Mila’s hair. “Night, kiddo.”

The smile he received from Juri, all wrapped up under the covers with his soft toys was priceless and also followed by a thrown, open-palm kiss.

Juri settles down next to him on the platform. He’s dressed in a pair of rust colored dungarees with a black jumper underneath. On top he wears a flannel to shield himself from the still awakening sunlight, looking very proper. The blonde hair looks half combed, as if he got tired with trying and decided to leave it be. He fiddles on the walkman, while peering out over the wall with squinting eyes.

“Ya’ had breakfast?” Daryl asks.

Juri doesn’t answer, obviously, but he puts his hand in the front chest pocket of the dungarees and pulls something from it. A pack of two Reese’s cups. Daryl grins.

“Ya’ mom won’t like that.” He says, but gets an authoritarian index finger in front of the mouth, followed by a ‘shhh’ from the boy; ‘I won’t tell if you don’t tell’. “Go ahead, kiddo.” Daryl therefore says.

He watches as Juri peels the packaging open and takes out a peanut butter cup and hands it to him. They eat the chocolate-peanutty-goodies under silence. He’s amazed at the little boy, who seems to have the intellect and the ability to think like a child who is twice as old. Mila hasn’t coddled him, except smothered him with infinite amounts of motherly love, no doubt ‘bout that, but he can dress himself, make decisions on his own. He’s curious rather than scared and calculating rather than impulsive. He likes to collect stones, feathers and sticks, picks flowers, investigates bugs and likes to draw and listen to music while jumping on the bed or running around in the streets. And Daryl adores him. He’s a great kid.

“Whatcha’ listen to?” Daryl nods at the walkman between the small hands.

Juri removes the headphones from around his neck. He holds them up in his right hand as he pushes the ‘play’-button and turns the small ‘plus’-volume button on the side of the device, increasing the volume, leaking an old rock song.

“Sounds great.”

Juri gesticulates with his hands. It makes him feel both dumb and sad over the fact that he actually can’t understand the kid. Not that it stops Juri from trying, but he can’t understand no matter how many times he repeats his gestures.

“Sorry kiddo.”

The kiddo ain’t let down that easily. He opens the walkman, takes out the tape and shows him. Daryl reads ‘Boston - Boston, 1979’, written in black marker at the thin line on the orange paper label at the black plastic tape.

“Okay, here we go-” Rick appears at the edge of the platform, but pauses and bursts into a wide grin at the sight of Juri. “Hey, little guy.”

Juri waves at Rick as he climbs up and sits down at his left side.

“Here-” Rick hands Daryl the bottled water and then looks at Juri. “You’re up early.”

The blonde boy nods proudly, as to say ‘yup, before my mom’. Daryl unscrews the cap from the plastic bottle and offers it to Juri. He takes it and takes two small sips, before handing it back and continuing to look out over the wall. But soon the little nose begins to search in the air. Daryl and Rick can smell it too; breakfast. Toasts and waffles.

“Ya hungry?” Rick asks Juri. Juri turns and peers up at Daryl, as if he had an answer for it. He then turns back to Rick, and shakes his head. “We’ll be replaced soon. Then we’ll eat.” Rick says, very dad-like. Authoritarian but still nice.

Juri nods and returns to his walkman, puts the headphones over his blonde hair and disappears into his own world of Boston, 1979. Daryl looks down at the toddler sitting between him and Rick, nodding his head to the beat of the music, so carefree and at ease. He looks so much like Mila, except the blonde hair. But his constant cool is something else, a hybrid between Mila and whoever the man who biologically is his father. Mila’s a hothead by blood, with impressive self-control. Like the calmest water which in an instant can blow up into a raging storm. Juri, on the other hand, is calmness personified whatever the situation. Maybe because he relies on Mila entirely. He never has to be scared or worried.

“Now, that’s a sight for sore eyes.”

Daryl’s interrupted in his thoughts. He turns and looks over his left shoulder. Carol is standing on the ground, shielding her eyes from the sun, smiling up at the three of them. Juri waves happily down at her with a proud smile on his lips. He’s with the big boys now.

“Hi, darling.” Carol waves at him before turning her eyes to Daryl. “Ya’ boys hungry?” Juri sniffs in the air and nods. “There’s honey and waffles for you, darling.” Carol smiles at the blonde boy. “What about you two?”

“Sounds great.” Rick says. “We’ll be replaced soon.”

“Great.” Carol replies. “You’ve been up there all night.” She continues. “We’re planning a barbeque tonight. Why don’t you get some venison later?”

I’ll be damn Carol, Daryl thinks to himself with a faint, but thankful smile. More things to do today, except collecting materials for the wall.

“Sure.” He calls back at her.

“I’ll thank you later, when you’re back with some meat.” She replies in a cheeky smile. “I’ll bring you three something to eat before you leave if you’d like?”

“Set up three more plates.” Rick says. “We’re done here soon.”

Carol nods smilingly, turns and starts walking back towards the houses. Daryl and Rick look at each other. Huh, a barbecue.

“Could be fun.” Rick says. “Gotta chop some wood then. You wanna help?” He looks at Juri, who nods eagerly with the headphones around his neck again, excited to help out with grown-up stuff. “Great. We’ll start right away, after we’d had something to eat.”

Juri nods and looks at the two men on each side of him, rubbing his tummy, showing them that now he’s hungry. Especially when there’s waffles. He then gets up on his knees and, without warning, climbs into Daryl’s lap. The small hands start to fiddle with his vest, then with the cord of the headphones. Daryl doesn’t tense, but he becomes instantly aware of his body, as if a baby deer had climbed into his lap; he can’t scare him away. But Juri’s calm and relaxed. In the corner of his eye, Daryl sees Rick smile.

“What?”

“Nothin’.” Rick says and blinks. “Just, everything’s kinda fine, right?”

Daryl turns his gaze from Rick and looks down at Juri, who meets his gaze and smiles sunny, then out over the area on the other side of the safe-zone, contemplating his friend’s words. Yeah, he thinks. Things are actually kinda perfect. Fuckin’ hell, he feels great. Everything’s calm. No breaches and no herd of walkers approaching. There’s a three and a half-year old in his lap that looks at him like- yeah Daryl can’t figure that one out. But he seems happy. And there’s Mila, probably half awake by now, back at the house. Holy shit, he’s got his shit together at last.

“Guess ya’ right.” Daryl replies.

“Yep.” Rick says, also turning his head out over the surroundings. “I’m happy for ya’.” He sighs. “It’ll be fun. Barbecue. Bonfire. The only thing’s missing is a harmonica, or a guitar.” Rick turns his head to look at him. “Ya’ play?”

“What? Guitar?” Daryl shakes his head. “Nah.”

But a faint smile spreads upon Daryl’s lips as an idea forms inside his head, accompanied by the muffled sound from Juri’s headphones, which leaks a guitar solo. Nah, he ain’t playing. But he knows someone who might. Inside his head, he adds another task to his mental to do-list.

Taglist: @lonewolf471 @twdeadfanfic

#jersey on my mind #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl x oc #daryl fanfiction #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #twd fanfic #twd #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fandom #the walking dead fanficition

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thewalkingdead-fan101 · 4 years

Text

In This Hell Daryl Dixon X Reader Part 5/??

Hey everyone! Part 5 is now here! I hope you all like it :) Thank you all for the support! Warnings- General walking dead stuff, Gore, descriptions of blood, Swearing, death.

After another sleepless night, I found myself being the first of our group to wake up. I walked out of the front door and onto the porch, making sure that the door closed softly behind me. Pulling the sleeves of my sweater down over my hands, I crossed my arms over my chest, looking over the grassy field. I could feel the warmth of the sun slowly creep onto my face as the night faded away, leaving the pink and orange hues of the breathtaking sunrise to illuminate everything in its path. A gentle breeze coursing through the trees, it was one of the most beautiful sights I’ve seen. “It’s real beautiful out here, especially this time of the morning.” I jumped, turning around, seeing Patricia standing in front of the door behind me. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” “No, it’s fine, i’m fine.” I softly laughed. “Otis and I, we used to get up this early to watch the sunset, it’s our time together… Well it used to be.” She smiled softly. “Patricia, I’m so sorry for your loss. I have heard Otis was an amazing man.” “He was, he put that boys life above his own, it was the lords plan… This is how it was meant to be.” “He was a hero…” “He always was… Even when no-one else knew it, he was my hero.” She chuckled softly. I looked over to her as she sniffled. “I should get going. I have to collect the eggs.” “I can come with you and help if-“ “Its okay, I will be fine, thank you.” She shook her head. I watched as she left. Taking a few moments to myself, I take in a deep breath and sigh. Looking back over the field I watch as the sunrise finally dissipates. I can hear the others start to wake up inside. The door behind me opened again. “You’re awake already?” Maggie asked. “Hey, yeah. I don’t sleep much anyway.” I smiled “Maybe you should've been a farmer.” She joked

“Maybe I should have.” I laughed. “I heard you last night.” “Pardon?” “The nausea. You aren’t sick are you?” “I’m not sick…” I smiled softly. “I just don’t understand why they call it morning sickness when it hits at any time of the day.” I chuckled. We stood in comfortable silence. “Thank you.” I broke it. She raised her brow at me. “For the hospitality.” “It’s the least can do.” “No, really, thank you.” I smiled. “You’re welcome.” She smiled back at me, shaking her head slightly. “How long have you had the farm?”

“The farm has been passed down in our family for generations.” “Is it something you’ve always wanted? The farm?” “When I was younger it was all I wanted. Then I grew up and went to college, Dad needed help, so I came home.” “Then this all happened?” “Yeah.” “And it has just been you guys?” She nodded. “Sorry to cut the conversation short, I have some work to do.” She smiled “Of course, sorry to take your time.” “It’s okay.” She chuckled before making her way down the front steps. I closed my eyes as a small gust of wind blew against my face. Sighing, I opened my eyes, turning towards the door, entering the house. I softly laughed looking over to where Glenn and T-dog were still asleep sitting on the two seater lounge, heads back, mouths open. “You think we should wake them?” I turned to see Rick staring at the two. “Maybe.” I laughed along with him. Once the soft laughter between the two of us died down I looked back at Rick. “How’s Carl?” I asked “He is still asleep.” “He will be okay. He will be up again before you know it.” I smiled. “You’re right. Thank you.” He turned back towards the door. “Rick?” He looked back at me. “Can we do something for Otis? For Hershel and his people?” “Its a good idea, whatever they need.” I nodded, before softly nudging Glenn’s leg with my foot, doing the same to T-dog. Glenn slightly stirred before going back to sleep, resulting in a more harsh nudge. “Guys. Time to get up.” Both guys opened their eyes and stretched. I walked to the kitchen and seen Hershel sitting at the table, looking as though he was deep in thought. I turned, not wanting to bother him. “You can stay.” “Oh, thank you…” “Take a seat.” I sat across from him and smiled as he looked over me. “The boy is in recovery.” “Thanks to you and your people…” He nodded. “If you need help around the property we can do it, whatever you need let us know and we will pull our weight.” “That won’t be necessary. Thank you.” He stated as he left the kitchen. Once everyone was awake, we made our way outside, with Patricia, Maggie, and Hershel’s youngest daughter Beth long with her boyfriend Jimmy… excluding Rick, Lori and Hershel. We followed them to the tree-line and helped collect stones, placing them into a wheelbarrow. We collected stones for about 15 minutes until I heard a noise in the distance, making the others cease movement. My face broke into a smile as the sound of a motorcycle became more clear. I turned and looked at Shane, Glenn and T-dog. “They’re here.” I smiled T-dog left us and went to retrieve Rick and Lori. We all made our way over to the house and waited for the rest of our group to join us. I watched as the RV, Hyundai and motorcycle drove towards the house, pulling up as the front door opened. Everyone stood looking at one another. “How is he?” Dale broke the silence.

“He'll pull through, thanks to Hershel and his people.” Lori responded.

“And Shane. We'd have lost Carl if not for him.” Rick added. Dale embraced Rick in a hug.

“Thank god. We were so worried.” Carol rushed forward hugging Lori.

“How'd it happen?” Dale asked

“Hunting accident. That's all, just a stupid accident.” Rick spoke. I looked around, checking to see if they had found Sophia. I made eye contact with Andrea, who in return shook her head, knowing who I was looking for.

Andrea hugged me after hugging T-dog. “How have you been feeling?” She whispered. I nodded. “As good as I can be.” I smiled. “I think someone’s waiting for you.” I turn around and see Daryl staring at me. “I’ll talk to you later.” I smiled. “Go.” She softly pushed me. I walked over to him and smiled softly. “Hey…” I sighed. “Hey.” He nodded. I moved forward and wrapped my arms around his middle, resting my head against his chest. After a moment he wrapped his arms around my frame, leaning his chin on top of my head. “We have something we need to finish.” I look up to see Shane watching. I pulled away and grabbed Daryls hand, pulling him along as I made my way back where the stones were.

We all helped Hershel and his people build a memorial for Otis with the collected stones. Standing around the Mound of stones, we watched as Beth placed a stone on the pile. “Blessed be god, father of our lord Jesus christ. Praise be to him for the gift of our brother Otis, for his span of years, for his abundance of character; Otis, who gave his life to save a child's, now more than ever, our most precious asset. We thank you, god, for the peace he enjoys in your embrace. He died as he lived, in grace. Shane, will you speak for Otis?” Hershel spoke. “I’m not good at it. I'm sorry.” Shane responded. I looked at my brother dumbfounded.

“You were the last one with him. You shared his final moments. Please. I need to hear. I need to know his death had meaning…” Patricia cried

“Okay. We were about done. Almost out of ammo. We were down to pistols by then. I was limping. It was bad. Ankle all swollen up. ‘We've got to save the boy’. See, that's what he said.” He paused, shaking his head. “He gave me his backpack. He shoved me ahead.” He paused again. “‘Run’, he said. He said, ‘I’ll take the rear. I'll cover you’.” “And when I looked back... If not for Otis, I'd have never made it out alive. And that goes for Carl too. It was Otis. He saved us both. If any death, ever had meaning, It was his.” He finished, placing the last stone on to the pile. Standing between Glenn and Daryl, I watch as Shane walks back to where he stood before. “Thank you for speaking Shane.” Patricia nodded, still softly sobbing. We all stood in a moment of silence before all walking back toward the house.

“No Sophia?” Glenn asked Daryl. “We searched for a few hours last night.” “Wait, we?” I stopped. “Me and Andrea.” He nodded. “Was there any sign of her?” He shook his head. “Who is Sophia?” I turned to see Maggie walking with us. “She is one of our group, she’s Carl’s age... She is missing.” “I’ll ask dad, see if we can help.” She smiled. “Thank you.” She nodded. Maggie left the group and entered the house, to talk to Hershel I’m assuming, Glenn following her inside. I look over to Daryl who is scanning the farm for any threat. “Are you okay?” I ask. “What?” He shook his head. “Are you okay? After last night?” “I’m fine. Why are you asking?” “Because I know that you being out there searching for that little girl, meant that you were out until at least 4am still looking. I know you.” “I’m fine.” He mumbled. I look over the the front door which opened, revealing Hershel and Rick, Daryl and I followed them as they walked toward the Cherokee, Shane and Andrea already standing by. “How long has this girl been lost?” Hershel asked. “This'll be day three.” Rick answered.Maggie joined us, spreading a map over the hood of the car, placing small stones on the top two corners and on the middle bottom. “County survey map. Shows terrain and elevations.” “This is perfect. We can finally get this thing organised. We'll grid the whole area, start searching in teams.” Rick nodded looking at the map. “Not you. Not today. You gave three units of blood. You wouldn't be hiking five minutes in this heat before passing out.” Hershel told Rick, pausing to look at my brother. “And your ankle, push it now, you'll be laid up a month, no good to anybody.” He looked at Shane. “Guess it's just me. I'm gonna head back to the creak, work my way from there.” Daryl nodded, heading off. “I can still be useful, I'll drive up to the interstate, see if Sophia wandered back.” Shane stated. “All right, tomorrow then. We'll start doing this right.” Rick nodded. “That means we can't have our people out there with just knives. They need the gun training we've been promising them.” Shane spoke up. “I'd prefer you not carrying guns on my property. We've managed so far without turning this into an army camp.” Hershel shook his head. “All due respect, you get a crowd of those things wandering in here...” “Look, we're guests here. This is your property. And we will respect that.” Rick paused looking at Shane as he surrendered his gun onto the map, Shane following. “First things first: set camp, find Sophia.” Rick continued. “I hate to be the one to ask, but somebody's got to. What happens if we find her and she's bit? I think we should all be clear on how we handle that.” Shane asked. “You do what has to be done.” Rick answered. “And her mother? What do you tell her?” Maggie asked. “The truth.” Andrea responded. Shane took his gun from the hood of the car, re-holstering it. “I'll gather and secure all the weapons. Make sure no one's carrying till we're at a practice range off site. I do request one rifleman on lookout. Dale's got experience.” He added. “Our people would feel safer, less inclined to carry a gun.” Rick agreed. Hershel nodded. “Thank you.” Shane walked off. “That stuff you brought, got more antibiotics, bandages, anything like that?” Maggie asked “Just what you've seen.” Andrea replied leaving “We're running short already. I should make a run into town.” “Not the place Shane went?” Rick asked. “No, there's a pharmacy just a mile down the road. I've down it before.” She nodded. “See our man there in the baseball cap? That's Glenn, our go-to-town expert. I'd ask him along just to be cautious.” Hershel thought for a moment, before looking at Maggie and nodding his head in Glenn’s direction, as she started to walk away.

I had been walking around the farm for a little while now, collecting thoughts. Watching Shane and Andrea sitting, cleaning guns on a picnic bench, Shane looking as if he is instructing. I see Maggie talking to Glenn and Dale, I can pretty much see the blush on Glenns face from where I am. I almost rounded the corner, until I heard Rick yell out, making me stop completely. I know that it’s wrong to listen into a conversation, but I couldn’t help it.

“Daryl. You okay on your own?” “I’m better on my own. I'll be back before dark.” He responded. “Hey. We got a base. We can get this search properly organised now.” “You got a point or are we just chatting?” I softly hit his arm with the back of my hand. “My point is it lets you off the hook. You don't owe us anything.” “My other plans fell through.” Daryl stated as he left. I thought for a moment of what that meant. Then it hit me. Daryl was planning on leaving. He and Merle, they were just going to leave. No hesitation… He was never going to stay in the first place.

The door to the house slammed shut as Hershel walked down the front steps. “We could give you more space. Set up over by the barn.” Rick offered. “No, no need for that. Better you stay close to the house. I don't say this easily, Rick. We don't normally take in strangers. I can't have your people thinking this is permanent. Once you find this girl and your boy's fit for travel, I expect you'll move on. We need to be clear on that.” Hershel answered. I watched the older man walk away, Rick just standing with his hands on his waist, looking at the barn before leaving.

Out of the corner of my eye I see T-dog and Dale over at one of the well’s. I slowly make my way over to them. As I arrive T-dog was pumping the water, already mid way through a conversation, smiling at me when he noticed my presence. “-Everyone kicks in, does their part. Am I right? Do your part, don't complain.” He paused, scooping some water out of the pail. “That's what I always-“ The ladle was hit out of his hands.

“I wouldn't drink that if I were you.” Dale warned, looking between the two of us. “What?” I asked “Look at this.” We both followed Dale to the well, it’s planks busted as though something had fallen through, which Dale points into.

“We need to tell Hershel and his people.” Dale stated. “I’ll go get the others.” I turn around to see T-dog running to find the others. It’s snarls and growls grew more loud. The others joined us, standing over the top of the well.

Shane handed Dale a flashlight. He turned it on and directed the light down the well. I look down and see a bloated walker, it’s face swollen with blotchy discoloured skin. “Oh, that’s disgusting.” I say staring at it. “Looks like we've got us a swimmer.” Dale speaks. “Lets get this cover off of it, not that it’s covers much now…” I spoke up, grabbing one side of the wood. “Hey, put that down. You’ll hurt yourself.” Dale scolded, grabbing the otherwise. “He’s right, put it down.” Shane warned me. “But-“ “No buts.” Dale added. I sighed in defeat and put it down. “Its not even that heavy.” I muttered, causing Shane to glare at me. “How long do you think it's been down there?” Glenn asked. “Long enough to grow gills.” Andrea replied. “We can't leave it in there. God knows what it's doing to the water.” Lori spoke up. “We got to get it out.” Shane shook his head. “Easy. Put a bullet in its head. I'll get a rope.” T-dog offered. “Whoa whoa, guys. No.” Maggie responded. “Why not? It's a good plan.” Glenn nodded. “It's a stupid plan. If that thing hasn't contaminated the water yet, blowing its brains out will finish the job.” Andrea spoke. “She's right. Can't risk it.” Shane added. “So it has to come out alive?” T-dog asked. “So to speak.” “How do we do that?” Glenn asked. For a moment we all look at each other, trying to come up with an idea on how to get it out. I watched it, trying to claw the sides of the well to get some sort of sustenance. “Guys.” I paused.

“What? What is it?” Lori asked. “Are you okay?” Glenn asked. “Yeah im fine, I have an idea.” “Well, what is it?” Dale asked. “Food… All they want is food.” “And? We know this. Get to the point.” Shane said crossing his arms. “What if we bait it? Put something on the end of a rope.” “You want to feed it? It’s not a damn pet!” Shane snapped. “I know its not! Let me finish!” I snapped back. The others looked at me. “As I was saying, Bait it, then drop a lasso around it, pull it out.” I finished. “Thats actually a good plan.” Dale nodded. “We just need something to use as bait.” “Leave that to me.” Maggie nodded, running toward the house. I made eye contact with Shane, he made the come here motion. I move around the well, standing next to my brother. “What gave you that idea?” “I don’t know. It just came to me.” “It’s a good idea.” “Thank you.” I watched as Maggie ran from the house back to the well. “Will this work?” She breathed out. “We have to try.” I shrugged. We opened the canned ham, wrapping fishing line and hooks to it. We connected it to the makeshift pole, lowering it toward the walker. The spam just dangled infant of the walker, who was blatantly ignoring it. “He's not going for it.”

“Maybe 'cause a canned ham don't kick and scream when you try to eat it.” T-dog spoke.

“He's right.” Lori paused, kneeling over the well. “There's a reason the dead didn't come back to life. And start raiding our cupboards.” She finished.

“We need live bait.” Andrea stated, looking at Glenn. “I’ll do it.” Glenn slightly nodded. “No I will.” Glenn looked at me and shook his head. “No, its okay. I’ll do it.” He persisted. “It has been decided Glenn is doing it.” Shane stated, glaring at me. “Glenn shouldn’t have to do this.” “(Y/n/n), its okay. I can do it.” Glenn tried to calm me down. “Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.” I shook my head. It was silent until Glenn finally breathed out.

“Lets get this over and done with.” We set up the rope to make a pulley system, to hold Glenns weight, and when it comes to it, the walkers. I grabbed onto the rope. “Woah, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Please. Let me do this Shane, I know you want to protect me, but let me help.” I paused. “Look, All im going to do is help feed through the rope and pull when I need to.” I finished. Shane looked at me, hands on his hips, head down. “Fine. You can help.” I smiled as he left. I watched as Shane helped Glenn with his makeshift rope harness.

“Have I mentioned that I really like your new haircut? You have a nice shaped head.” Glenn said looking at Shane.

“Don't worry about it, bud. Hey, we're gonna get you out of here in one piece.” He responded.

“Living piece. That living part is important.” He said, taking the rope for the walker, putting it over his arm. Shane got up, walking over to join us, ducking under the rope, grabbing it to help pull. “Nice and slow, please.” Glenn spoke.

“We got you.”

“Oh, you people are crazy.” Maggie shook her head.

“You want to get it out of your well or not?” Shane asked. Not letting go of the rope I slightly turn my head to see Shane, shaking my head when he looked at me.

“Give us an eye there, Maggie.” Dale asked. Glenn looked up at Maggie and she slightly shook her head, watching him slowly ease his way down. She stood above the well And looked down.

“Doing okay?” She asked. “Yup, doing great.” I heard the small echo of Glenns voice.

“Little lower. Little more.” Maggie helped instruct us. We slowly lowered the rope. Something felt wrong… I heard a creak, before the pump fell toward me.

Everyone behind me yelling. Choruses of “Get it!” And “Grab it!” were being called as I kept hold of the rope, which was now slipping.

I could hear Glenns screams, making me fight harder against the rope. The pump flew out of the ground, headed straight towards the well, dragging me with it. Everyones screams were going quiet, the heavy sound of my heart thumping draining out the surrounding sounds. I look up to see everyone with their arms behind T-dog, pulling him. T-dog has hold of me, pulling me away from the well with the others, I look down and realise that I was holding the pump. My legs pushing against the well, pulling the rope as hard as I can. I screamed as I pulled, suddenly hearing the screaming of Glenn and yelling of the group. “Glenn!” I heard Maggie yell. “Pull him up!” I shouted

“Pull him up! Pull him up!” “Get me out of here!” Glenn screamed. “Lets go! Pull!” Shane yelled. “Pull him up!” We were further from the well than I last remember, I see Shane and Lori both standing and pulling the rope up.

Dale pried the pump from my hands and slowly helped me stand up, T-dog helping, pushing me up. I look over to see Shane grabbing Glenn as he jumped out of the well, Glenn making straight for the ground. “Are you okay?” Lori asked I stumbled over, softly patting his back across from her. He panted.

“Back to the drawing board.” Dale sighed. Glenn looked up, shaking his head, standing up.

“Says you.” He handed him the rope, patting his shoulder as he walks past. Dale grabbed the rope, and walked toward the well. We all surrounded it again, only to see the walker caught in the rope. “Okay… Time for a new plan.” Andrea looked at me. I looked over to her. “Really?” I looked around for a moment, before stopping on Maggie. “What?” “We need a horse…” I sighed. She looked at me. “We can use the horse to help lift the walker out of the well.” She nodded, heading for the stables.

“Quick thinking.” T-dog spoke. “What?” “Grabbing the pump cylinder like that, Are you okay?” “Yeah. Im Okay.” I smiled. Maggie brought the horse over, tying the rope to her horses saddle. “Okay. We slowly bring this thing up.” Shane called. I stood with Maggie and her horse, helping calm it. T-dog was directing the speed of the rising walker. “Come on guys! Pull!” He encouraged. We pulled the rope slowly, making sure that the horse was okay. The walkers discoloured face had now risen above the wall of the well. The further the walker came out, the more its stench had spread, its eyes bulging out of its decaying skull.

I moved from my spot at the horse, standing behind Andrea, helping pull the rope.

The walker was caught against the well, proving more difficult to pull.

We pulled again, the rope gave way. The walker’s body had torn in half. Intestines, and bile spilling everywhere as its bottom half fell into the well. My stomach instantly churns as I stare at its upper body writhe on the ground. “We should seal off this well.” Dale nodded. “Yeah, might be a good idea.” Shane answered. “So what do we do about…” Andrea started, until T-dog cut her off, brutally bashing the walkers skull with the ladle.

The sound and smell was unbearable, I felt even more nauseous. “Good thing we didn't do anything stupid like shoot it.” He sneered when he finished.

I shook my head and walked away, making my way toward the house and the to the RV. I ran into Carol at the RV. “What happened to you?” She asked, softly grabbing my arm. “What do you mean?’ I ask, softly shaking my head. She sat me down onto the picnic bench near the RV. “Show me your hands (Y/n).” She said looking at me. “My hands?” I asked. I looked down to see angry red, blistering burns over the palms of my hand. “Oh, I didn’t even realise…” “What happened?” “There was a walker in the well, we tried to remove it…” “Are you okay?” “Yeah. I just didn’t realise that this had happened. It must’ve happened when the pump broke.” “What?” “The pump broke and Glenn almost fell further into the well, I grabbed the rope and fought it as it slipped. I grabbed the pump.” “We need to get this cleaned up, it could get infected if we leave it untreated.” She stood up, making her way inside the RV. She returned with a little bit of gauze and ointment. Carol carefully wiped down my blistering hands, applying ointment to the gauze, wrapping both hands up. “Thank you…” She nodded, pulling me into a hug.

“Carol. You ready to head out?” I look over to see Shane and Andrea waiting by the car. “Ill be right there!” She called out. “Ill see you soon.” I nodded my head, as she smiled softly. She stood up, making her way over to the car. I found my tent and pitched it up with the others. I look over to see Glenn and Maggie already on the main road on their horses. “Hey Lori.” I called. “Yeah honey?” She looked up. “Im going for a walk… ill be back soon.” “Hang on, I’ll come with you.” She stood up. “No, its okay, goto Carl. He needs you… I will be okay.” I smiled. She looked weary. “I won’t go far, ill stay on the property.” “I don’t know…” “Please? I just need some air.” She looked around, then nodded. “What do I tell the others?“ She asked. “That I’ll be back.”

I followed the path around the property, coming across a dam. I sat down along the edge and looked over the water.

It was beautiful, peaceful. It felt as though the world hadn’t turned to shit. The cattle had broken through one of the fences, and were all at the damn, drinking, grazing the grass. Looking to the sky, I see the soft purple glow make its way over the horizon. “Shit.” I muttered under my breath realising that I lost track of time. Standing up, I make my way toward the path. I look across one of the paddocks, seeing the RV on the other side. I slip through the wire, deciding to take the shortcut. I walked through the grass, the sky now settling on the burnt orange and purple tones. I looked over to see Dale waving at me on the top of the RV. I smile and wave back as I walked toward him. Abruptly, I stop, my body hitting the ground underneath me as my foot falls down a hole. “Shit!” I hissed out, sitting up, pulling my foot out of the hole, examining it.

I look up to see a figure rushing toward me. “I’m okay.” I called out, pushing myself off the ground. I take a step forward and buckle slightly, a pair of arms now holding me steady. “I uh, I fell down a rabbit hole.” I chuckled slightly.

I look up, Daryl looking less than impressed. He didn’t say a word, just ushered me to walk back to camp with him. I hobbled slightly behind him. “Any luck on finding Sophia?” He shook his head, now walking faster. I sighed, trying to keep up. Daryl stopped, realising that I wasn’t with him now. “Hurry up.” He snapped “I am going as fast as I can.” I responded sourly. “I’ll meet you there.”I finished. He made his way toward me, lifting me up bridal style. “I can walk.” “Too slow.” He shook his head. Once we arrived to the camp, he sat me down and took off my boot, examining my ankle.

“It’s a little swollen.” “Thank you.” He nodded, walking off grabbing some food and bringing it back for us to share. We sat in silence. “I’m sorry.” He looked at me. “For?” “Your plans falling through.” He looked down, then around to see if any one else could hear us. “You ‘eard that?” “Yeah..” I spoke softly. “I know that You and Merle were moving on… Im sorry that you guys couldn’t.” I finished. “My plans didn’t fall through ‘cause of Merle.” He paused. I looked down at my bandaged hands. “They fell through, ‘cause of you...”

Series Masterlist Next Part

#daryl x you #daryl x reader #daryl dixon #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine #The Walking Dead #twd #walking dead #fanfiction

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seizethesam · 4 years

Text

Ode to an Angel-Chapter 8

A/N: Hello! I have been away due to some problems. I wasn’t able to upload new chapters because I didn’t have my laptop with me. But I’m back!! I kind of tried Daryl’s pov in this chapter and I’m honestly happy about! I hope you’ll like it too!

From now on, new chapters will be posted every Sunday! So Chapter 9 will pe posted August 9th. As always, the feedback is always appreciated! Love you! Happy reading!

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader

Warning: None!

The recommended song for this chapter is Touch by Daughter.

Chapter 7

Gif is not mine*

Chapter 8

Pink morning clouds were hanging in the Georgian sky, slowly following the East wind. Everyone in the prison were in rush to get ready for the fight with the Governor.

You’d just came back from Woodbury yesterday; it has been a day since Daryl had left with his brother, Merle. Carol and Axel were in the field, talking. Beth and Carl were in one corner, and Hershel was in the prison field.

He was talking about making this place our permanent home, about growing crops and plants to eat, about making it a living place. And wanted it, too. But the Governor…you had to fight the Governor first.

And you were just finished with placing the wooden pallets to cover yourselves when the fight comes eventually.

Your mind was at Daryl every second since yesterday. Was he alright? Of course, he was alright, he was Daryl. Was he happy about his decision? You didn’t know.

It surprised you to realize how much it hurt you to see him go like that. You tried to deny the feelings you had for Daryl, pretended to not know that you’d, in fact, liked him very much, and cared about him more than anything in the world.

You stopped ignoring the fact, simply because he was gone. You didn’t have to fear that you would get too close and end up hurt.

But you did end up hurt, even though you tried not to get close. You pushed the thought to back of your mind.

You saw Rick outside the fences, not understanding what he was doing. He was, still, in a bad state. When you’d returned from Woodbury yesterday, there were a bunch of people who Carl let in. They were fairly in bad shape and had told you that they had just lost someone.

You believed them to be good people; they were willing to help you with anything and said they would live far away from you as possible. It was a reasonable decision to accept them. You needed the numbers against the Governor.

But Rick…Well, Rick was at somewhere else. He was acting crazy, and all of a sudden, he started shouting. At first, you took it in stride. The guy had just lost his wife. He was healing, he’d held his daughter for the first time and returned to business.

The thing that bent you out of shape was the look on his face. You understood that he didn’t trust those people, that he didn’t want to help them. You truly understood him. However, he didn’t understand any of you.

The way he looked at Hershel when he told him to be in charge, it was as if he looked at a child who wouldn’t stop making a noise about something. You hated it. It was the look that Gareth had gave you and your brother.

You needed to talk to him. He saved you once, and now he was one of the things that kept you going. You couldn’t lose him too. Glenn held you back the first time, but now, he wasn’t here to keep you from talking to Rick. You started walking towards his direction, and used the breach to get out of the fences.

He was moving his arms around and murmuring something when you approached him from behind. He didn’t seem to hear you coming through the fences.

“Everything okay?” you asked, making him turn to you.

“Yea,” he replied. He was now facing you, but he turned his head to check behind him, then turned back to you.

Your gaze was on him, studying him. It was like you were getting to know him all over again. “Are you sure?” you didn’t want to push his buttons, but you were worried about him at the same time. You didn’t want to lose him too.

“I said it’s fine, don’t bother yourself, Y/N,” he said, checking his back. There was this look again. The same look he gave Hershel the other day. And it was enough to let your anger out.

You sighed as you spoke, “I don’t like the way you look at me, Rick,” the words poured one by one, “in fact, I don’t like the way you look at any of us,” you sounded pissed and you were.

He didn’t reply and kept the look on his face.

“It’s like we’re all bunch of idiots who don’t know any better,” you continued, “but let me tell you, we do, and we’re doing a lot better than you are,” you couldn’t stop yourself.

He frowned, trying to process your words, “Look—” he tried to speak but you stopped him.

“No, I’m not done, I know it’s hard, and I know you’re grieving, but you can’t treat us like that,” the look was gone, he didn’t look angry anymore, he just looked- sad. And it broke your heart. “We could’ve helped those people, and they could’ve helped us. We can’t give up on who we—”

Rick’s eyes widened when a gunshot interrupted you. He got a hold of your arm and pushed you behind him. Your hand found its way to the pistol that was strapped around your thigh in its holster when you saw the Governor holding a machine gun aimed at the prison field. You saw Axel’s body falling to the ground.

“Get back!” Rick shouted at you through the noise of gunshots.

You ran into the longer pieces of grass and threw yourselves on the ground. “Shit!” you cried as you fell on your left elbow. Rick was just a foot away from you next to the bridge.

“I see him,” he whisper shouted as he loaded his rifle. He straightened up, aiming at the woods. He had shot a few bullets when more came your way.

“Get the fuck down,” you yelled, putting emphasis on each word.

A few minutes later the gunshots were over. You waited for a few seconds to wait for another round of fires. It didn’t come. The atmosphere was so quite now that you could hear your own hear beat.

Then an ice cream truck came over with full speed and entered the prison field, tearing down the fences. You got up on your knees to get a better look on the the truck, sporting yourself with one hand on the fence.

Moments later, the back of the truck opened to let out dozens of the walkers inside the fences.

“Hershel, get out of there!” Rick shouted.

“Rick,” you called up when you saw another dozen of walkers approaching out from the woods. You started to shoot them one by one until your bullets ran out, as well as Rick’s.

You started to make your way towards the small breach on the fences, but soon your tracks were stopped by more walkers. You drew your hunting knife from your belt and shoved it through the skull of one of them, and Rick handled another one with the back of his gun.

Rick was walking in front of you when one of the walkers got a grip of the fabric of your shirt. Thankfully, you were faster than the dead. You kicked it on its chest, making him fall into the brook.

You were about to take another one, but you heard a familiar whistle and the walker fell on the ground with a bolt in its skull.

You wondered if you were in the same state as Rick was… imagining things. But no… you wouldn’t imagine the man with the blade for a hand. But he was attacking the walkers one by one.

Then, your eyes landed on the archer, loading his crossbow and shooting a clean headshot on another walker.

---

Daryl wasn’t happy to see his brother behind the bars in the prison, though it wasn’t an unusual view for him. He had gone to several police stations for a number of times to bail Merle out.

Even though Merle was the older brother, Daryl had found himself looking after him multiple times, whether it’d be picking him up from shitty parties or from jail. It was fine with him, didn’t have anything better to do anyway, he always thought.

But now, the things were different. He’d got whole bunch of people to look after. People who seemed to care about him. Although, he didn’t make up his mind why? Why would they care about him?

And then, there were you. You had showed him that you’d cared about him. You didn’t want him going with Merle. It stunned him so much that he didn’t know what to say. Why would you want him to stay anyway? You were far more capable of taking care of yourself and the other around you. You didn’t need him, he thought.

You were college educated, knowledgeable woman who knew when to say what that he didn’t understand why you cared about him, an old dirty redneck.

But at the same time, he’d found himself caring deeply about you. When he was out there with Merle, he couldn’t stop thinking about you for a second. Just for a moment, he considered not going with Merle, just for you, he wouldn’t go.

He realized that he would rather die than to see your eyes shine with tears of sadness. He would rather see them glow with life when you’d smile at him. He would walk through fire just to make sure you were okay without thinking twice about it.

Merle was sticking his arms through the metal bars, supporting his weight, “lordy be, where’s tha’ peach ya been talkin’ about, lil bro?”

“Shut up, man,” Daryl warned his big brother before walking out of the cellblock with you.

He walked towards the exit door of the cellblock, one hand on the strap of his crossbow, watching his steps. He opened the door and bumped into a smaller figure. He lifted his head and saw you. “Oh, sorry,” you said with a soft smile.

And there you were standing in front of him, with a little smile on your lips, smile that outshined the sun itself, Daryl thought to himself.

“Nah, s’ fine,” Daryl talked with his usual southern drawl, then moved aside to make room for you to go your way, so you did.

Daryl felt the heat spread through his body, to his chest, his back, and his ears. There he was again, not knowing what to do with himself. He stood next to the open door and watched you walk away from him. He couldn’t have his limbs moving, couldn’t go his way, just kept watching you leave.

Then, to his surprise, you stopped and turned back to him. You walked and stood right in front of him. He didn’t even time to get embarrassed about getting caught watching you.

You started speaking, “can I talk to you?” He couldn’t properly see you since his return to the prison because of all that was happening. But in reality, he didn’t know what to do or say.

“mm, hmm,” Daryl hummed as a response and you took him by the hand and dragged him outside the cellblock. The area was lonely, it was just the two of you.

You let go of his hand once you were outside, but Daryl still felt the warmth of your palm. How could he not? It felt like the sunlight on his skin. He couldn’t’ believe how everything about you was glowy like the sun.

Daryl looked at the sky when he realized he was looking at you for too long.The Georgian sun had left its place to red clouds and navy sky.

“I’m glad you’re back,” you started, “here with us.” He looked back at you when you spoke.

Daryl wondered how a human voice could be so soothing. “Never shoulda left,” he mumbled.

“No, that’s the thing,” you were looking at him in the eye, “you were right, it’s your brother. I was being selfish.” You finished.

“Ya ain’t selfish,” in Daryl’s eyes, you didn’t have one selfish bone in you.

Daryl didn’t move his gaze away from you, scared that you would disappear any time.

“I am so happy you’re here,” you said again as you hugged him. Your voice was lower than before.

Your arms were wrapped around his large figure, as you placed your chin on his shoulder. Daryl held his breath, not wanting to let you know how his heart started pacing. Suddenly, he was wrapped around a cloud of warmth. He gave in and hesitantly put his arms on your back.

You stayed in the comfort of his embrace for a while, and Daryl wasn’t complaining.

His arms unwrapped as you slowly pulled away from the hug, your cheek brushing his. Just as Daryl was about to break the hug, you pressed your lips against his.

He was petrified, unable to move. But the thought was that if you could feel his heart bumping in his chest and how soft your lips were.

Chapter 9

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