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series :
❀ Darkest Before the Dawn ❀
⤿ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x f!reader (endgame), Glenn Rhee x f!reader (unrequited)
⤿ Genre : fluff, angst, eventual smut
⤿ Series warnings (see each chapter for individual warnings) : general gore, violence, twd typical dialogue and situations, language, sexual situations (more to be added)
⤿ Series synopsis : When Glenn Rhee comes into your life, you become convinced he's a guardian angel sent by your late best friend. You think he's your soulmate. But then he falls for the farmer's daughter, and you find that your own angel may be a little more blatant than expected; wings and all.
Pairing : Daryl Dixon x f!reader (endgame), (unrequited) Glenn Rhee x f!reader
Series summary : When Glenn Rhee comes into your life, you become convinced he's a guardian angel sent by your late best friend. You think he's your soulmate. But then he falls for the farmer's daughter, and you find that your own angel may be a little more blatant than expected; wings and all.
Chapter summary : As the group continues their search for Sophia, you struggle with the feeling of abandonment in the midst of Glenn’s new love interest. In the meantime, Daryl starts to unravel his own feelings and motivations.
Chapter warnings : typical twd things, gore, nightmares, grief, our mc absolutely has insane abandonment issues, sophia arc, as always pleaseeee let me know if I missed anything!!!
Word count : 2.5k
a/n : sooooo, it’s been a while haha!! but anyways I’m back. I’m going to keep the same taglist, but I’m sure there are many of you that aren’t interested in this fic anymore so please just lmk if you want to be removed !! ty to the anon who told me they missed me 8 days ago <333
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"I won't do it. We can't just leave." Carol insists, the day's shed tears heavy in her throat. You sit against the RV, knees curled to your chest, head in your hands. Your mind has been reeling since the scene in the woods. Sophia is missing, Carl has been shot, Glenn is going to leave your side for a sweet southern belle. Your brain repeats that mantra over and over.
"Carol, the group is split. We're scattered and weak." Dale responds, exasperated. He's right, and he's tired. You all are. Two children in harms way has left a throbbing scar over all your hearts.
"What if she comes back and we're not here? It could happen." Carol argues. There it is--that motherly hope and longing. There is what keeps shattering you over and over again. Carol speaks and it's nothing but love and fear for Sophia that pours out of her. It knocks into your chest and takes your breath away.
It makes you sick, too, to think there's a mother missing her child, while you secretly mourn the loss of a relationship that never truly was.
A mangled part of you feels jealous of Sophia. Jealous, that she has someone so dedicated to her simple existence. A mother that would shed tears until her body runs dry, who would walk to the end of the earth to find her. Her feet bloodied and blistered. You want to feel that kind of love again. The kind of love that takes your woes and makes them lighter, easier to carry because someone is there to support your shaking knees as they buckle.
"Okay. We gotta plan for this. I say tomorrow mornin' is soon enough to pull up stakes." Daryl takes charge, and you're beyond grateful. Someone needs to think rationally right now, and it's certainly not going to be you. "Give us a chance to rig a big sign, leave 'er some supplies. I'll hold here tonight, stay with the RV."
Dale chimes in with his agreeance. "If the RV is stayin', I am too."
You and Andrea are next, both volunteering to stay as well. Part of it is that you want to help, another part is that you couldn't stand to see that pretty farm girl again.
Then there's Glenn. "Well, if you're all staying then I'm-"
"Not you, Glenn. You're going." You don't ignore the concerned glance Dale throws your way when he says it. You're thankful. Being around Glenn is normally a light to you, but you feel overwhelmed by him right now.
"Me? Why is it always me?" Glenn mumbles, and that hurts. It hurts because normally it'd be us. 'Why is it always us?' He'd say to you as you two were assigned some chore among the group.
Dale turns his eyes back to Glenn, giving him that signature stern look, before tearing off on him. "...Most important, you have to get t-dog there. This is not an option. That cut has gone from bad to worse. He has a very serious blood infection." You look to T-dog, slumped against the RV. His skin is losing its depth, a pale sheen setting over. He's clammy, even in the chilled night air. Your own hands grow sweaty at just how unwell he looks. "Get him to that farm. See if they have any antibiotics. Because if not, T-dog will die, no joke."
Daryl scoffs, tossing a rag off his motorcycle before ruffling through a bag on the back. "Why'd ya wait 'till now to say anything? Got my brother's stash." He goes on to list a variety of drugs before snatching one bottle up. "Doxycycline. Not the generic stuff neither, it's first class. Merle got the clap on occasion." He shrugs, and for the first time in what seems like forever, you let out a giggle.
It’s not long before Glenn and T-dog depart to the farm. You lean against an abandoned car, watching them go. Your stomach stirs something awful. Everyone seems to be dead or dying—or missing, for that matter. And your sunshine, your one person, is being taken from you in real-time. Your cheek itches. You reach up to scratch it, your fingers meeting the rough scab. A deep breath fills your lungs, stretching them. You’re alive.
Daryl’s watching you. Watches your wistful stare at Glenn’s departing vehicle. He wants to approach you; wants to tell you that he’s not worth it. He doesn’t hate Glenn. Not really. But he hates to see you like this.
In his mind, Glenn wouldn’t deserve you anyway. He couldn’t treat you the way you need. When you reach your hand to your cheek, he sees that fire in your eyes reignite. Daryl’s heart skips a beat—Glenn couldn’t treat you the way Daryl would.
He scoffs. God, what is he thinking?
❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀
You lay in the reclined passenger seat of the Winnebago. Carol’s cries echo over the quiet space. Every time you think she may have passed out, they start again. Andrea won’t stop messing with her gun. Disassemble, reassemble, disassemble, re-
“I need my clip now. I'm gonna walk the road, look for the girl.” Daryl’s voice cuts through the cries and mechanical clicking. You almost ask to come with, if not to look for Sophia, to just get a moment away from these repetitive sounds. The sounds of the apocalypse. Grief stricken mothers and guns. But then Andrea beats you to the punch, and you let her.
Daryl doesn’t refuse Andrea’s company, and for some reason that furthers your sour mood. Nothing is right. “I'm goin’ for a walk. Shine some light in the forest. If she's out there, give her somethin’ to look at.” Daryl is a good man, you think. He’s selfless in ways, often putting the group first. And he’s a provider in ways that far exceed anyone else. You want him to stay around.
Dale begins to protest, but you place a lazy hand over his shoulder. “Daryl will bring her back safe.” You whisper.
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Daryl didn’t necessarily want Andrea to tag along. He wanted to get out of that damn RV. His fingers were itching, his mind racing. Thoughts of Sophia, alone and scared. Thoughts of Carol, whose cries resonated in his gut. And the worst, the worst were the thoughts of you. They were so senseless, so minor compared to the tragedy falling the group. But he couldn’t stop them. Couldn’t stop that pull he felt. The shame, too. You want Glenn. He knows that.
But god, isn’t it time for him to admit that he wants you? His body wants you, that much is obvious. The incident at the CDC had only made things worse. And maybe that’s why he didn’t want Andrea to come. But there she is, walking beside him.
Was he supposed to say no to a suicidal girl?
And then, before he knows it, he’s out spilling some life stories to her. He’s weak and vulnerable, mind compromised by none other than you. So, he spills a story of being lost. He leaves out how he felt. The fear, the way he’d curled onto a pile of leaves and cried. Not because he missed his home, but because he had wished so badly that his home was worth missing.
“Only difference is Sophia's got people looking for her. I call that an advantage.” He tells Andrea, who nods in silence.
But then she says, “I know at least one person who would look for you now.” He knows exactly who she’s talking about, even if he doesn’t believe it. You’d look for anyone. “She thinks she wants Glenn.” She pauses.
“You’re not a bad guy, Daryl. I think she’ll realize what she wants.” Her words seem to echo through the cold forest, louder than the leaves beneath his boots. He doesn’t respond, but his stomach is flipping in a way he hasn’t felt since he had a crush on his teacher in the first grade.
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Carol is still crying. You can’t blame her. The lump in your throat is becoming all too tempting, but how could you cry in front of her now? You can’t stand the thought of her hearing your sniffles over her own.
You sit atop the RV. Scanning along the treeline. You want to see Daryl emerge. With Sophia in-tow, ideally. You want to know how Carl is doing. You want to know if Glenn is thinking of you, or if he’s too distracted by the brunettes beauty at the farmhouse.
The metal roof of the RV is cold through the fabric of your pants. It reminds you of cold nights spent on the bleachers of your high school football field. Gwen would be there, of course. Maybe you were drinking her parents liquor, or smoking your brother’s pot.
Everything you did was with her. All the stupid teenage firsts. Sneaking out, partying, drinking, smoking. Hell, even shoplifting.
Always shoplifting stupid things. Underwear, makeup, perfume. Such frivolous things. For whatever reason, this makes you think of Daryl.
He’d be disappointed if he knew. How privileged you were, to steal makeup. Who knows what he did to survive as a teenager?
It didn’t take a genius to see he hadn’t grown up the same way as you. He would make fun of you, call you some uppity princess. You almost giggle to yourself at the thought of his southern drawl. His deep, rough voice.
Daryl is so unfamiliar to you. But as he emerges from the trees, you feel a bubble of…excitement? You feel like a wife, waiting for her husband to return from work so she can feel safe. That’s what it is. He makes you feel so safe. As he trudges his tired feet towards the RV, you climb down from the roof.
You’re tired, delirious and emotional. That’s what you blame it on when you trot up to him and throw yourself to him. He’s frozen, and you know he’s disappointed in himself. His shoulders are slouched and there’s no Sophia behind him. “You’re a good man, Daryl.” You whisper. There’s tears in your eyes, but you’re not sure why.
He’s not sure what to do. He hesitantly reaches a hand to press against the small of your back, the other one still holding his crossbow. You feel so soft. So fragile and sweet. He wants to keep you safe.
You both know that this moment will be chalked up to the late hour, and never mentioned again. You fall asleep in the passenger seat, listening to the heavy breaths of the archer on the floor.
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The diner is dingy, even only a week after the power grid went out. You wonder if it was just as sleazy-seeming in the normal days. There’s a coffee pot sitting on the bar, flies buzzing around the spout. A shiver runs down your spine. “Hey, look what I found.” A sarcastic voice startles you. Gwen grins, rattling a pill bottle in her hand. You scoff, snatching it. The yellowing label on the amber vial reads ‘alprazolam’
“Xanax.” You deadpan. “Just what we need right now.” If only you were joking. Gwen shrugs, kicking an empty box of pancake mix across the checkered floor.
“Only thing I’ve found yet.”
You sigh, taking a seat on the faux leather barstool. The vintage pinup posters along the wall keep your eye as you mumble, “I don’t know if we’re cut out for this whole apocalypse thing…” The girl in the poster is blonde, ridiculously pretty and curvy, holding a serving tray with a steaming cup of coffee resting haphazardly on top. “I mean, really, what are two college girls gonna do-“ When you pry your eyes from the beauty back to Gwen, the scream tears out of you violently.
She’s staring at you, her hazel eyes wide and confused. She looks so unaware, so innocent. But there it is, her large intestine spilling out of the canyon in her stomach. Blood drips from her chin, only adding to the grotesque pool of gore at her feet. “What’s wrong, cutie?” She asks in that classic bubbly tone. The words spill out in between spurts of blood. Your heart is beating out of your chest, each breath coming more shallow than the last.
You can’t speak, can’t answer her question. Hell, you’re not even sure you’ll survive another minute without a heart attack. You can’t look. You squeeze your eyes shut, tangling your hands in your hair, pulling at the strands.
When you open them again, you look to the poster once more. Only, it’s not a blonde woman anymore. It’s Glenn, with that stupid baseball cap, grinning wide. You can’t remember why, but seeing him makes you angry. You close your eyes one more time, willing everything away.
That last time, the poster isn’t the blonde woman, or Glenn. It’s Daryl, posed facing away, crossbow in hand. You stare for a little longer, your eyes drawing to the angel wings on his vest. They’re glowing.
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When you wake up, the moist morning air is drifting into the RVs open windows. It must be early. The dew is still fresh over the patches of grass beyond the highway, and the RV is filled with the soft breaths of everyone else. Sound asleep. Even Carol seems to have fallen asleep, her face still red and puffy. You’re careful drawing out of your seat, stepping around the sleeping bodies to outside.
Birds are chirping somewhere, and you wonder if Daryl was awake, if he’d hunt them. Likely bring fresh bird to the farmhouse as an offering. Defeathered and all.
“Where are you, Sophia?” You whisper into the sky. How much more loss can this group take? How much more loss could *you* take?
The sun burns your eyes when you gaze up to it, but you can’t care. Tears spring to them anyway, and you allow yourself this moment. By yourself, in the quiet morning, you sob. “Why?” You whisper through shaking breaths. You know exactly who you’re asking. “I fucking needed you, Gwen.” It tears from you. The anger is ugly and unjustified. You know that. That’s why this is only for you, no one else will ever see this side to you. Your fingers dig into the grass where you sit, moist soil pilling over them. “Why are you haunting me? You’re the one who couldn’t fucking protect yourself!” You cry.
It’s not true. You should’ve protected her. You know that’s really how you feel. But right now, there’s too many blameless tragedies. You need to spill your anger somewhere, and isn’t the dead girl just the perfect target? Even the person she sent for you is going to abandon you. How could she do this?
Your lonely cries in the early morning goes unnoticed, but later, as the group gets set to head to the farmhouse, Daryl spots the patch of torn grass and the dirt that lingers under your nails.
When I read a fanfic I like, the author becomes a mini celebrity to me. So when an author with a work I like kudos’ or comments on my own fanfic I just-
(cough cough) @celtic-crossbow @lazyneonrabbitt @daryl-fucking-dixon @deansapplepie @dixons-sunshine and like every other author I know (love you guys) (cough cough)
Two tags from two of my favourite authors? My life is complete and I can now die happily 💜
@celtic-crossbow @snailss @daryl-dixon-daydreams @fluffy-dixon @starshipsofstarlord @maggie-atwood @scudslut @norman-fucking-reedus @ghostboneswrites2 @dixonzzgirl @optimist-pine @deansapplepie @desiderio-dixon @alyssaforevermore @intoxicated-chan @sourwolf-sterek32 @mydearestdaryl just to name a few off the bat! Hands down some of the absolute best authors out there and I can't believe that they bless us with their amazing fics for free. If y'all were to write actual novels, I definitely would buy them. Your talents are unmatched and I obsessively reread your fics when I'm down. 💜 (There are definitely more that I can't think of right now but please believe me when I say that you're all amazing writers! I just can't remember that many usernames 🥲).
Editing this to add @louifaith because girl, you come up with the absolute best scenarios and have definitely become like a celebrity to me.
Aaaaa omg i adore you so much @dixons-sunshine thank you so much for the tag!!!!! <333 (you're also definitely on the list just don't wanna tag you twice!!)
I absolutely suck complete ass at remembering usernames so there is absolutely 100% more than listed but definitely @celtic-crossbow @scudslut @1427 @dreamtofus @alyssaforevermore @maggie-atwood (sorry if any of you have gotten tagged in this too much already!!)
These people are definitely celebrities to me and I fangirl a bit when they interact with me 😭💕
Pairing : Daryl Dixon x f!reader (endgame), (unrequited) Glenn Rhee x f!reader
Series summary : When Glenn Rhee comes into your life, you become convinced he's a guardian angel sent by your late best friend. You think he's your soulmate. But then he falls for the farmer's daughter, and you find that your own angel may be a little more blatant than expected; wings and all.
Chapter summary : Leaving the CDC in the rearview mirror, the group faces further obstacles: A misunderstanding arises between the reader and Daryl, Sophia goes missing, tensions build between reader and Shane, Carl gets shot, and Glenn begins the heartbreak saga.
Chapter warnings : uhhh jealousy, heartbreak, misunderstandings, illusions to sex, shane being a creep, sophia goes missing, grief, lmk if I missed anything! <33
Word count : 2.8k
A/N : OKAY SO THIS ONE TOOK FOREVERRR I'm so sorry!! To be fair though, something super serious happened to a family member of mine so my life has just been absolute chaos the last couple weeks. BUT TRUST ME THAT I DIDNT ABANDON THIS FIC!!! Love u guys! (also there may or may not be a Dean spicy fic on the way to all those who voted yes to that poll I made hehe)
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The next morning, you woke to a knock on your door. Groggy and hungover, you wrapped your naked body in blankets and stumbled to the door. You opened it to find Glenn, his head hung low and eyes sunken. He was equally, perhaps more, hungover. He made no effort to greet you, just groaned at you and pushed past into your room. He flopped himself down on your bed, face in the pillows. You sighed, leaving the door open and moving to sit on the bed, still only in a puddle of blankets.
"My head is gonna explode." Glenn cries out. You hum tiredly. Outside of the room you can hear everyone waking, wandering out of their rooms. Part of you wants to kick Glenn out and fall back into sleep. But you don't. You two sit quietly for a few minutes, you're certain Glenn has fallen asleep.
And then, there's a crinkle in your doorway. You look over, surprised to see Daryl. He stands, fully dressed and ready for the day, with a waterbottle clutched in his hand. He'd brought it for you, you knew that somehow. But you watched his gaze rake over your bare shoulders, and the onto the figure laid in your bed. He doesn't say anything, and neither do you. For some reason you feel like you've been caught doing something you shouldn't. He crouches down, setting the waterbottle in your doorway. And then he's turning, leaving.
The CDC is a blur after that. A blur of confusion, panic, anger. Screams and explosions. And an overwhelming loss. Jacqui died, Jenner and the sanctuary you thought you'd found went with her.
You'd never seen something explode like that. What was once there, simply wasn't anymore. No longer an impressive and futuristic building, but a mess of fire and ash. It shook everything. The ground, the air, even your insides felt like they were vibrating within you.
You weren't even sure whose car you'd piled into, simply just eager for cover, but you'd realized too late that it was Daryl's truck, and this was going to be an awkward ride. Though, neither of you said a word. Not about the drunken conversation you'd shared, or him seemingly finding you and Glenn in bed together. There's an air of shock that only silence seems appropriate for. Still, when the caravan stops due to the RV hose again, you break it. Digging into your back pocket, you produce the crumpled pack of cigarettes. "Here, I, uh, found them. Figured you'd like them." Daryl grunts, slapping his hand over yours to grab the pack. Nothing else is said, so you both climb out.
The traffic build up seems to go on forever, cars for as long as you can see. Everyone drifts off into groups to scavenge through the cars. You end up by yourself, sorting through a mini van. The sight of the empty toddler car seat brings a sense of dread washing over your body. You try to shake it off. Surely there's a chance the baby lived, just moved on to another place.
You find a box on the floor, overflowing with clothes. Winter will come quicker than you think, so you begin to rifle through, looking for anything thick and comfortable. Instead, you find a pretty dress. A sundress, with wildflowers printed all over and a dipped neckline. You're not sure that it's something you'd have worn before, but something calls you to it. It's exactly your size. Something tells you to take it, even if it's not exactly practical. So you shove it into your bag.
Then you hear Glenn's laugh, an excited and relieved laugh. You decide you need a little joy in your life, so you seek him out. There, you find him and Shane, drenching themselves with water off a truck. "You guys not gonna share?" You tease. Glenn ushers you forward to stand under a spout, then he releases the cap. You squeal at the sensation, water soaking through your clothes. Your eyes are closed, enjoying the cooling sensation when a hand wraps around your wrist, yanking you to the floor.
You smell them first, the horde of dead stumbling through the traffic jam. You roll under the truck with Glenn and Shane, making panicked eye contact with each of them back and forth. Then you hear them, groaning and shuffling. And finally, you see their feet as they move past. Most of their shoes are muddied and falling apart, ankle skin falling off the bone like good barbecue. When it's finally passed, your heart shatters.
Where you expected silence, you found the cries of a distressed mother. Carol, screaming after Sophia. You crawl out just in time to watch Rick run after her, Lori holding a sobbing Carol.
You want to pull her into a hug, hold her sorrow in your hands to take it off her shoulders. But you're soaking wet, and you're sure she doesn't need a cold on top of everything. You settle instead for a hand on her shoulder, telling her a gentle, "Rick will bring her back." You're not sure you believe it. You have faith in Rick, though you're not sure about Sophia. She's a smart girl, sweet like sugar, and you adore her. It's just that a scared adult is unpredictable, let alone a scared child. Still, you want to hope.
It's only a few minutes, maybe ten. Rick emerges from the forest and you wait with bated breath for Sophia to trail after him--but she doesn't. Carol's sob sends a lightning bolt right through your heart.
Rick gathers a few people up to go look for her: Glenn, Shane and Daryl. While they gather up their things, you stand with Glenn. You feel eyes on you, heavy in their gaze. Turning, you find who'd been staring at you. Shane. He meets your eyes, and something about it turns your stomach. His eyes are dark, and he doesn't look away. You break the eye contact yourself, looking to your shoes.
"You okay?" Glenn asks. You hum, nodding your head. But truthfully, you can't shake the feeling of unease that has washed over you.
Then, just as everyone is geared up to leave, Daryl trots up to you. He tosses something at you. You catch it, unfolding it to reveal a flannel shirt. "Cover up a bit, huh?" He says, looking at you before his eyes flick to Shane. For a moment, you're confused. Then, you look down to your shirt--your soaked, white shirt that has now turned see-through. Your ears burn with a sudden rush of blood, and you hurry to throw on the flannel he gave you. It has the sleeves cut off, because of course it does. It looks ridiculous on you, you're sure, but it works well enough.
You stand, dumbfounded for a bit while the group pushes forward. Another one of Carol's sobs throws you out of your daze.
She stands, hands covering her mouth as sobs pour openly out of it, leaning against Lori. Lori has tears of her own streaming her cheeks, but she stares coldly ahead at the treeline her husband disappeared into. Although the sight of them squeezes your chest, it's the sight behind them that hammers the final nail into your heart.
Carl, a few feet behind his mother, looking sorrowful with tears of his own silently falling, but a determination in his eyes unlike any you'd seen. You walk to him, grazing your hand over Carol's arm gently as you pass. When you reach Carl, you pull him into a hug. His arms wrap weakly around you as you crouch, and he lets out a sob into your chest. "They'll find her. And if they don't--me and you will." You whisper to him, squeezing him tight.
It's not long before Shane and Glenn return. Glenn looks solemn, which quickly gives away that their leads aren't solid. Shane barks orders immediately upon return to search and move cars. You rifle through more cars, coming up mostly empty time after time. After an hour, you produced three items. A leather jacket, thick; good for winter and to stop bites. A box of granola bars, unfortunately your least favorite flavor. And an unopened limited edition Barbie.
The Barbie came from a car with no sign of children, and given how old it is, you assume it's someone's antique. You feel better taking it, given you don't think you're stealing from a dead child. It'll be nice for Sophia, you think. It's the exact thing you'd have loved as a girl. Big, poofy white dress with black polka dots and heaps of frill. A classic red lip and a pair of cute little heels. She's absolutely fabulous. You tuck her carefully into your bag, making sure to not dent the box.
As you weave through the cars to find your next hidden treasure, you spy Lori and Shane. The tension is thick in the air as they whisper-yell back and forth to each other. It's not hard to piece together the contents, despite you not being able to hear them. Surely it's about what once was between them, and what never can be now with Rick's return. Still, the sight sends bolts of unease through your spine. Especially with the way Shane slams his fist against a cars hood, fire burning behind his dark eyes.
You enter some beat down sedan, crawling into the drivers seat and letting your head drop down to the steering wheel. 'Please let Rick and Daryl come back safe with Sophia.' You think to yourself. You're beyond anxious, chest feeling as though a pile of rocks sit in your lungs. Moving on from this stupid highway with your group intact would be the greatest gift.
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It's almost dark now, though the humidity still weighs down the air, thick and heavy. A thin sheen of sweat collects over your skin as you sit and wait. "Oh, God. They're back." Glenn says. Your heart leaps to your throat. Rick comes first, then Daryl, then... Nothing. No Sophia. Just as quick as your heart rose, it sank to your feet like an anvil.
"You didn't find her?" Carol squeaks, sounding small like a scared child.
Rick shakes his head, guilt written in the way his lips draw tight and his eyes drop to the floor. "Her trail went cold. We'll pick it up again at first light." You knew they didn't find her, but even so, the confirmation feels like a hammer bashing into your heart.
"You can't leave my daughter out there on her own to spend the night alone in the woods." Carol cries desperately.
Daryl glances to you, then the floor. Shaking his head, he responds. "Out in the dark's no good. We'd just be trippin' over ourselves. More people get lost." You know he's right. He's smart with these things, a natural. But you also know hearing this hurts Carol. Truthfully, it hurts you too. A part of you wants to stray from the group right now, tear the forrest apart until your hands are bloodied to find Sophia and bring her home to her mother.
But Daryl's right--so you stay.
The next morning is early, sun barely up. Dew slides over the morning grass, tickling your ankles as you all trudge through the forest. The air is damp and crickets chirp around you. It reminds you of early wakings during your school days as a child. Up before the sun so you could drown your stomach with sugary cereal before the bus called your name. It's nostalgic in such a bitter way. Sophia will never get that again, whether you find her or not.
The only two that hadn't come on the search were Dale and T-dog. Dale, to fix up the RV, and T-dog to rest. He'd landed himself a nasty gash on his arm during the herds passing. You're thankful Daryl was there.
Everyone else in the group, even including little Carl were gathered around you. Daryl, Shane, and Rick mainly led the charge-- but everyone was equal in effort of looking for signs. You'd lost count already how many times you'd crouched to inspect the dirt, trying your hardest to search for small shoeprints.
The search had been null, up until you found a campsite. Carol had called out, and you all held your breath in anticipation. When nothing came, Daryl investigated. Nothing but a man who'd been dead for a long while.
Now, you stare at Daryl. He's disappointed, maybe even frustrated. You guess he must feel pressure, feel that it's on him to do the tracking and finding. Your feet seem to move on their own, stalking towards him on shaky feet. He doesn't notice you coming, doesn't look up from his boots. But still, you reach a hand out, just mere moments away from touching his bare bicep--until the bells ring.
You freeze, catching Daryl's eyes immediately as he shoots up. And then, as if reality had snapped back into motion, you all run.
The church is a grim scene, the pews loaded with rotting corpses, staring lifelessly at the cross. When you swing the doors, they groan, turning and shuffling loudly across the wooden floors. The smell is overpowering. The air is thick with rot, moist and sickening.
It's fitting. Fitting to the soulless feeling of tearing through walker after walker, only to at the end be met with nothing but a pile of corpses; no Sophia in sight. Carol prays in front of the statue of Jesus, and you can't judge her for turning to faith in a time like this, but something about it turns your stomach.
How could a God allow a mother to be without her child? Suddenly, the air in the church feels like it's no longer air at all. You feel suffocated. You rush out, hand covering your mouth as a nauseous feeling rises. Falling to your knees in the grass, you huff breath after breath of fresh air. When will the constant loss end?
❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀
It's only a couple hours later when you're trudging through the forest, chatting with Glenn absentmindedly as Daryl leads your group back to the highway. And then, like a flash of lightning, a woman appears. The heavy thudding of her horse's hooves matches the rapid beating of your heart, and then she's yelling. Yelling that Carl has been shot. Then, you feel as if your heart stops at the same time the horse skids to a halt. He's stable, she says, but it's still a weight you're not sure you can handle.
You want to cry, to collapse, to give up. You want to curl into someone and share in your sorrow. When you turn to Glenn, your stomach swirls in sickness at his expression. Well, perhaps not the expression alone, but that the expression isn't being sent to you.
There, frozen in place, he stands. Awestruck eyes gazing up at the woman on the horse, jaw open. Your eyes fly between the two of them, time moving in slow motion. You can't even blame him. She's beautiful. Big, green eyes wide in urgency, tan skin slick with sweat, shining in the sunlight.
eeeeee!!! Tysm I'm so excited too!!! I feel like we're really starting to hit the climax of the story and everything so far has just been character building
Pairing : Daryl Dixon x f!reader (endgame), (unrequited) Glenn Rhee x f!reader
Series summary : When Glenn Rhee comes into your life, you become convinced he's a guardian angel sent by your late best friend. You think he's your soulmate. But then he falls for the farmer's daughter, and you find that your own angel may be a little more blatant than expected; wings and all.
Chapter summary : Leaving the CDC in the rearview mirror, the group faces further obstacles: A misunderstanding arises between the reader and Daryl, Sophia goes missing, tensions build between reader and Shane, Carl gets shot, and Glenn begins the heartbreak saga.
Chapter warnings : uhhh jealousy, heartbreak, misunderstandings, illusions to sex, shane being a creep, sophia goes missing, grief, lmk if I missed anything! <33
Word count : 2.8k
A/N : OKAY SO THIS ONE TOOK FOREVERRR I'm so sorry!! To be fair though, something super serious happened to a family member of mine so my life has just been absolute chaos the last couple weeks. BUT TRUST ME THAT I DIDNT ABANDON THIS FIC!!! Love u guys! (also there may or may not be a Dean spicy fic on the way to all those who voted yes to that poll I made hehe)
❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀
The next morning, you woke to a knock on your door. Groggy and hungover, you wrapped your naked body in blankets and stumbled to the door. You opened it to find Glenn, his head hung low and eyes sunken. He was equally, perhaps more, hungover. He made no effort to greet you, just groaned at you and pushed past into your room. He flopped himself down on your bed, face in the pillows. You sighed, leaving the door open and moving to sit on the bed, still only in a puddle of blankets.
"My head is gonna explode." Glenn cries out. You hum tiredly. Outside of the room you can hear everyone waking, wandering out of their rooms. Part of you wants to kick Glenn out and fall back into sleep. But you don't. You two sit quietly for a few minutes, you're certain Glenn has fallen asleep.
And then, there's a crinkle in your doorway. You look over, surprised to see Daryl. He stands, fully dressed and ready for the day, with a waterbottle clutched in his hand. He'd brought it for you, you knew that somehow. But you watched his gaze rake over your bare shoulders, and the onto the figure laid in your bed. He doesn't say anything, and neither do you. For some reason you feel like you've been caught doing something you shouldn't. He crouches down, setting the waterbottle in your doorway. And then he's turning, leaving.
The CDC is a blur after that. A blur of confusion, panic, anger. Screams and explosions. And an overwhelming loss. Jacqui died, Jenner and the sanctuary you thought you'd found went with her.
You'd never seen something explode like that. What was once there, simply wasn't anymore. No longer an impressive and futuristic building, but a mess of fire and ash. It shook everything. The ground, the air, even your insides felt like they were vibrating within you.
You weren't even sure whose car you'd piled into, simply just eager for cover, but you'd realized too late that it was Daryl's truck, and this was going to be an awkward ride. Though, neither of you said a word. Not about the drunken conversation you'd shared, or him seemingly finding you and Glenn in bed together. There's an air of shock that only silence seems appropriate for. Still, when the caravan stops due to the RV hose again, you break it. Digging into your back pocket, you produce the crumpled pack of cigarettes. "Here, I, uh, found them. Figured you'd like them." Daryl grunts, slapping his hand over yours to grab the pack. Nothing else is said, so you both climb out.
The traffic build up seems to go on forever, cars for as long as you can see. Everyone drifts off into groups to scavenge through the cars. You end up by yourself, sorting through a mini van. The sight of the empty toddler car seat brings a sense of dread washing over your body. You try to shake it off. Surely there's a chance the baby lived, just moved on to another place.
You find a box on the floor, overflowing with clothes. Winter will come quicker than you think, so you begin to rifle through, looking for anything thick and comfortable. Instead, you find a pretty dress. A sundress, with wildflowers printed all over and a dipped neckline. You're not sure that it's something you'd have worn before, but something calls you to it. It's exactly your size. Something tells you to take it, even if it's not exactly practical. So you shove it into your bag.
Then you hear Glenn's laugh, an excited and relieved laugh. You decide you need a little joy in your life, so you seek him out. There, you find him and Shane, drenching themselves with water off a truck. "You guys not gonna share?" You tease. Glenn ushers you forward to stand under a spout, then he releases the cap. You squeal at the sensation, water soaking through your clothes. Your eyes are closed, enjoying the cooling sensation when a hand wraps around your wrist, yanking you to the floor.
You smell them first, the horde of dead stumbling through the traffic jam. You roll under the truck with Glenn and Shane, making panicked eye contact with each of them back and forth. Then you hear them, groaning and shuffling. And finally, you see their feet as they move past. Most of their shoes are muddied and falling apart, ankle skin falling off the bone like good barbecue. When it's finally passed, your heart shatters.
Where you expected silence, you found the cries of a distressed mother. Carol, screaming after Sophia. You crawl out just in time to watch Rick run after her, Lori holding a sobbing Carol.
You want to pull her into a hug, hold her sorrow in your hands to take it off her shoulders. But you're soaking wet, and you're sure she doesn't need a cold on top of everything. You settle instead for a hand on her shoulder, telling her a gentle, "Rick will bring her back." You're not sure you believe it. You have faith in Rick, though you're not sure about Sophia. She's a smart girl, sweet like sugar, and you adore her. It's just that a scared adult is unpredictable, let alone a scared child. Still, you want to hope.
It's only a few minutes, maybe ten. Rick emerges from the forest and you wait with bated breath for Sophia to trail after him--but she doesn't. Carol's sob sends a lightning bolt right through your heart.
Rick gathers a few people up to go look for her: Glenn, Shane and Daryl. While they gather up their things, you stand with Glenn. You feel eyes on you, heavy in their gaze. Turning, you find who'd been staring at you. Shane. He meets your eyes, and something about it turns your stomach. His eyes are dark, and he doesn't look away. You break the eye contact yourself, looking to your shoes.
"You okay?" Glenn asks. You hum, nodding your head. But truthfully, you can't shake the feeling of unease that has washed over you.
Then, just as everyone is geared up to leave, Daryl trots up to you. He tosses something at you. You catch it, unfolding it to reveal a flannel shirt. "Cover up a bit, huh?" He says, looking at you before his eyes flick to Shane. For a moment, you're confused. Then, you look down to your shirt--your soaked, white shirt that has now turned see-through. Your ears burn with a sudden rush of blood, and you hurry to throw on the flannel he gave you. It has the sleeves cut off, because of course it does. It looks ridiculous on you, you're sure, but it works well enough.
You stand, dumbfounded for a bit while the group pushes forward. Another one of Carol's sobs throws you out of your daze.
She stands, hands covering her mouth as sobs pour openly out of it, leaning against Lori. Lori has tears of her own streaming her cheeks, but she stares coldly ahead at the treeline her husband disappeared into. Although the sight of them squeezes your chest, it's the sight behind them that hammers the final nail into your heart.
Carl, a few feet behind his mother, looking sorrowful with tears of his own silently falling, but a determination in his eyes unlike any you'd seen. You walk to him, grazing your hand over Carol's arm gently as you pass. When you reach Carl, you pull him into a hug. His arms wrap weakly around you as you crouch, and he lets out a sob into your chest. "They'll find her. And if they don't--me and you will." You whisper to him, squeezing him tight.
It's not long before Shane and Glenn return. Glenn looks solemn, which quickly gives away that their leads aren't solid. Shane barks orders immediately upon return to search and move cars. You rifle through more cars, coming up mostly empty time after time. After an hour, you produced three items. A leather jacket, thick; good for winter and to stop bites. A box of granola bars, unfortunately your least favorite flavor. And an unopened limited edition Barbie.
The Barbie came from a car with no sign of children, and given how old it is, you assume it's someone's antique. You feel better taking it, given you don't think you're stealing from a dead child. It'll be nice for Sophia, you think. It's the exact thing you'd have loved as a girl. Big, poofy white dress with black polka dots and heaps of frill. A classic red lip and a pair of cute little heels. She's absolutely fabulous. You tuck her carefully into your bag, making sure to not dent the box.
As you weave through the cars to find your next hidden treasure, you spy Lori and Shane. The tension is thick in the air as they whisper-yell back and forth to each other. It's not hard to piece together the contents, despite you not being able to hear them. Surely it's about what once was between them, and what never can be now with Rick's return. Still, the sight sends bolts of unease through your spine. Especially with the way Shane slams his fist against a cars hood, fire burning behind his dark eyes.
You enter some beat down sedan, crawling into the drivers seat and letting your head drop down to the steering wheel. 'Please let Rick and Daryl come back safe with Sophia.' You think to yourself. You're beyond anxious, chest feeling as though a pile of rocks sit in your lungs. Moving on from this stupid highway with your group intact would be the greatest gift.
❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀
It's almost dark now, though the humidity still weighs down the air, thick and heavy. A thin sheen of sweat collects over your skin as you sit and wait. "Oh, God. They're back." Glenn says. Your heart leaps to your throat. Rick comes first, then Daryl, then... Nothing. No Sophia. Just as quick as your heart rose, it sank to your feet like an anvil.
"You didn't find her?" Carol squeaks, sounding small like a scared child.
Rick shakes his head, guilt written in the way his lips draw tight and his eyes drop to the floor. "Her trail went cold. We'll pick it up again at first light." You knew they didn't find her, but even so, the confirmation feels like a hammer bashing into your heart.
"You can't leave my daughter out there on her own to spend the night alone in the woods." Carol cries desperately.
Daryl glances to you, then the floor. Shaking his head, he responds. "Out in the dark's no good. We'd just be trippin' over ourselves. More people get lost." You know he's right. He's smart with these things, a natural. But you also know hearing this hurts Carol. Truthfully, it hurts you too. A part of you wants to stray from the group right now, tear the forrest apart until your hands are bloodied to find Sophia and bring her home to her mother.
But Daryl's right--so you stay.
The next morning is early, sun barely up. Dew slides over the morning grass, tickling your ankles as you all trudge through the forest. The air is damp and crickets chirp around you. It reminds you of early wakings during your school days as a child. Up before the sun so you could drown your stomach with sugary cereal before the bus called your name. It's nostalgic in such a bitter way. Sophia will never get that again, whether you find her or not.
The only two that hadn't come on the search were Dale and T-dog. Dale, to fix up the RV, and T-dog to rest. He'd landed himself a nasty gash on his arm during the herds passing. You're thankful Daryl was there.
Everyone else in the group, even including little Carl were gathered around you. Daryl, Shane, and Rick mainly led the charge-- but everyone was equal in effort of looking for signs. You'd lost count already how many times you'd crouched to inspect the dirt, trying your hardest to search for small shoeprints.
The search had been null, up until you found a campsite. Carol had called out, and you all held your breath in anticipation. When nothing came, Daryl investigated. Nothing but a man who'd been dead for a long while.
Now, you stare at Daryl. He's disappointed, maybe even frustrated. You guess he must feel pressure, feel that it's on him to do the tracking and finding. Your feet seem to move on their own, stalking towards him on shaky feet. He doesn't notice you coming, doesn't look up from his boots. But still, you reach a hand out, just mere moments away from touching his bare bicep--until the bells ring.
You freeze, catching Daryl's eyes immediately as he shoots up. And then, as if reality had snapped back into motion, you all run.
The church is a grim scene, the pews loaded with rotting corpses, staring lifelessly at the cross. When you swing the doors, they groan, turning and shuffling loudly across the wooden floors. The smell is overpowering. The air is thick with rot, moist and sickening.
It's fitting. Fitting to the soulless feeling of tearing through walker after walker, only to at the end be met with nothing but a pile of corpses; no Sophia in sight. Carol prays in front of the statue of Jesus, and you can't judge her for turning to faith in a time like this, but something about it turns your stomach.
How could a God allow a mother to be without her child? Suddenly, the air in the church feels like it's no longer air at all. You feel suffocated. You rush out, hand covering your mouth as a nauseous feeling rises. Falling to your knees in the grass, you huff breath after breath of fresh air. When will the constant loss end?
❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀
It's only a couple hours later when you're trudging through the forest, chatting with Glenn absentmindedly as Daryl leads your group back to the highway. And then, like a flash of lightning, a woman appears. The heavy thudding of her horse's hooves matches the rapid beating of your heart, and then she's yelling. Yelling that Carl has been shot. Then, you feel as if your heart stops at the same time the horse skids to a halt. He's stable, she says, but it's still a weight you're not sure you can handle.
You want to cry, to collapse, to give up. You want to curl into someone and share in your sorrow. When you turn to Glenn, your stomach swirls in sickness at his expression. Well, perhaps not the expression alone, but that the expression isn't being sent to you.
There, frozen in place, he stands. Awestruck eyes gazing up at the woman on the horse, jaw open. Your eyes fly between the two of them, time moving in slow motion. You can't even blame him. She's beautiful. Big, green eyes wide in urgency, tan skin slick with sweat, shining in the sunlight.
Uhhgg, I always hate this point in a story, where certain misunderstandings arise between characters and you know, as the reader how wrong they are and yet you can't magically transport through the screen to just explain to them what's actually happening. Really starting to believe more and more that fic reading has led to a healthy little dose of my anxiety 😅
Shane is going to be a creep. Great 🙄 I always think maybe this'll be one of the very rare unicorns I've come across where he doesn't lose his mind, but then he does and I'm left thinking 'yup, here we go again..' 🤭 He does it so well though.
And the beginning of the end of the Glenn longing. I'm equal parts sad and excited for it
Pairing : Daryl Dixon x f!reader (endgame), (unrequited) Glenn Rhee x f!reader
Series summary : When Glenn Rhee comes into your life, you become convinced he's a guardian angel sent by your late best friend. You think he's your soulmate. But then he falls for the farmer's daughter, and you find that your own angel may be a little more blatant than expected; wings and all.
Chapter summary : Leaving the CDC in the rearview mirror, the group faces further obstacles: A misunderstanding arises between the reader and Daryl, Sophia goes missing, tensions build between reader and Shane, Carl gets shot, and Glenn begins the heartbreak saga.
Chapter warnings : uhhh jealousy, heartbreak, misunderstandings, illusions to sex, shane being a creep, sophia goes missing, grief, lmk if I missed anything! <33
Word count : 2.8k
A/N : OKAY SO THIS ONE TOOK FOREVERRR I'm so sorry!! To be fair though, something super serious happened to a family member of mine so my life has just been absolute chaos the last couple weeks. BUT TRUST ME THAT I DIDNT ABANDON THIS FIC!!! Love u guys! (also there may or may not be a Dean spicy fic on the way to all those who voted yes to that poll I made hehe)
❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀
The next morning, you woke to a knock on your door. Groggy and hungover, you wrapped your naked body in blankets and stumbled to the door. You opened it to find Glenn, his head hung low and eyes sunken. He was equally, perhaps more, hungover. He made no effort to greet you, just groaned at you and pushed past into your room. He flopped himself down on your bed, face in the pillows. You sighed, leaving the door open and moving to sit on the bed, still only in a puddle of blankets.
"My head is gonna explode." Glenn cries out. You hum tiredly. Outside of the room you can hear everyone waking, wandering out of their rooms. Part of you wants to kick Glenn out and fall back into sleep. But you don't. You two sit quietly for a few minutes, you're certain Glenn has fallen asleep.
And then, there's a crinkle in your doorway. You look over, surprised to see Daryl. He stands, fully dressed and ready for the day, with a waterbottle clutched in his hand. He'd brought it for you, you knew that somehow. But you watched his gaze rake over your bare shoulders, and the onto the figure laid in your bed. He doesn't say anything, and neither do you. For some reason you feel like you've been caught doing something you shouldn't. He crouches down, setting the waterbottle in your doorway. And then he's turning, leaving.
The CDC is a blur after that. A blur of confusion, panic, anger. Screams and explosions. And an overwhelming loss. Jacqui died, Jenner and the sanctuary you thought you'd found went with her.
You'd never seen something explode like that. What was once there, simply wasn't anymore. No longer an impressive and futuristic building, but a mess of fire and ash. It shook everything. The ground, the air, even your insides felt like they were vibrating within you.
You weren't even sure whose car you'd piled into, simply just eager for cover, but you'd realized too late that it was Daryl's truck, and this was going to be an awkward ride. Though, neither of you said a word. Not about the drunken conversation you'd shared, or him seemingly finding you and Glenn in bed together. There's an air of shock that only silence seems appropriate for. Still, when the caravan stops due to the RV hose again, you break it. Digging into your back pocket, you produce the crumpled pack of cigarettes. "Here, I, uh, found them. Figured you'd like them." Daryl grunts, slapping his hand over yours to grab the pack. Nothing else is said, so you both climb out.
The traffic build up seems to go on forever, cars for as long as you can see. Everyone drifts off into groups to scavenge through the cars. You end up by yourself, sorting through a mini van. The sight of the empty toddler car seat brings a sense of dread washing over your body. You try to shake it off. Surely there's a chance the baby lived, just moved on to another place.
You find a box on the floor, overflowing with clothes. Winter will come quicker than you think, so you begin to rifle through, looking for anything thick and comfortable. Instead, you find a pretty dress. A sundress, with wildflowers printed all over and a dipped neckline. You're not sure that it's something you'd have worn before, but something calls you to it. It's exactly your size. Something tells you to take it, even if it's not exactly practical. So you shove it into your bag.
Then you hear Glenn's laugh, an excited and relieved laugh. You decide you need a little joy in your life, so you seek him out. There, you find him and Shane, drenching themselves with water off a truck. "You guys not gonna share?" You tease. Glenn ushers you forward to stand under a spout, then he releases the cap. You squeal at the sensation, water soaking through your clothes. Your eyes are closed, enjoying the cooling sensation when a hand wraps around your wrist, yanking you to the floor.
You smell them first, the horde of dead stumbling through the traffic jam. You roll under the truck with Glenn and Shane, making panicked eye contact with each of them back and forth. Then you hear them, groaning and shuffling. And finally, you see their feet as they move past. Most of their shoes are muddied and falling apart, ankle skin falling off the bone like good barbecue. When it's finally passed, your heart shatters.
Where you expected silence, you found the cries of a distressed mother. Carol, screaming after Sophia. You crawl out just in time to watch Rick run after her, Lori holding a sobbing Carol.
You want to pull her into a hug, hold her sorrow in your hands to take it off her shoulders. But you're soaking wet, and you're sure she doesn't need a cold on top of everything. You settle instead for a hand on her shoulder, telling her a gentle, "Rick will bring her back." You're not sure you believe it. You have faith in Rick, though you're not sure about Sophia. She's a smart girl, sweet like sugar, and you adore her. It's just that a scared adult is unpredictable, let alone a scared child. Still, you want to hope.
It's only a few minutes, maybe ten. Rick emerges from the forest and you wait with bated breath for Sophia to trail after him--but she doesn't. Carol's sob sends a lightning bolt right through your heart.
Rick gathers a few people up to go look for her: Glenn, Shane and Daryl. While they gather up their things, you stand with Glenn. You feel eyes on you, heavy in their gaze. Turning, you find who'd been staring at you. Shane. He meets your eyes, and something about it turns your stomach. His eyes are dark, and he doesn't look away. You break the eye contact yourself, looking to your shoes.
"You okay?" Glenn asks. You hum, nodding your head. But truthfully, you can't shake the feeling of unease that has washed over you.
Then, just as everyone is geared up to leave, Daryl trots up to you. He tosses something at you. You catch it, unfolding it to reveal a flannel shirt. "Cover up a bit, huh?" He says, looking at you before his eyes flick to Shane. For a moment, you're confused. Then, you look down to your shirt--your soaked, white shirt that has now turned see-through. Your ears burn with a sudden rush of blood, and you hurry to throw on the flannel he gave you. It has the sleeves cut off, because of course it does. It looks ridiculous on you, you're sure, but it works well enough.
You stand, dumbfounded for a bit while the group pushes forward. Another one of Carol's sobs throws you out of your daze.
She stands, hands covering her mouth as sobs pour openly out of it, leaning against Lori. Lori has tears of her own streaming her cheeks, but she stares coldly ahead at the treeline her husband disappeared into. Although the sight of them squeezes your chest, it's the sight behind them that hammers the final nail into your heart.
Carl, a few feet behind his mother, looking sorrowful with tears of his own silently falling, but a determination in his eyes unlike any you'd seen. You walk to him, grazing your hand over Carol's arm gently as you pass. When you reach Carl, you pull him into a hug. His arms wrap weakly around you as you crouch, and he lets out a sob into your chest. "They'll find her. And if they don't--me and you will." You whisper to him, squeezing him tight.
It's not long before Shane and Glenn return. Glenn looks solemn, which quickly gives away that their leads aren't solid. Shane barks orders immediately upon return to search and move cars. You rifle through more cars, coming up mostly empty time after time. After an hour, you produced three items. A leather jacket, thick; good for winter and to stop bites. A box of granola bars, unfortunately your least favorite flavor. And an unopened limited edition Barbie.
The Barbie came from a car with no sign of children, and given how old it is, you assume it's someone's antique. You feel better taking it, given you don't think you're stealing from a dead child. It'll be nice for Sophia, you think. It's the exact thing you'd have loved as a girl. Big, poofy white dress with black polka dots and heaps of frill. A classic red lip and a pair of cute little heels. She's absolutely fabulous. You tuck her carefully into your bag, making sure to not dent the box.
As you weave through the cars to find your next hidden treasure, you spy Lori and Shane. The tension is thick in the air as they whisper-yell back and forth to each other. It's not hard to piece together the contents, despite you not being able to hear them. Surely it's about what once was between them, and what never can be now with Rick's return. Still, the sight sends bolts of unease through your spine. Especially with the way Shane slams his fist against a cars hood, fire burning behind his dark eyes.
You enter some beat down sedan, crawling into the drivers seat and letting your head drop down to the steering wheel. 'Please let Rick and Daryl come back safe with Sophia.' You think to yourself. You're beyond anxious, chest feeling as though a pile of rocks sit in your lungs. Moving on from this stupid highway with your group intact would be the greatest gift.
❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀
It's almost dark now, though the humidity still weighs down the air, thick and heavy. A thin sheen of sweat collects over your skin as you sit and wait. "Oh, God. They're back." Glenn says. Your heart leaps to your throat. Rick comes first, then Daryl, then... Nothing. No Sophia. Just as quick as your heart rose, it sank to your feet like an anvil.
"You didn't find her?" Carol squeaks, sounding small like a scared child.
Rick shakes his head, guilt written in the way his lips draw tight and his eyes drop to the floor. "Her trail went cold. We'll pick it up again at first light." You knew they didn't find her, but even so, the confirmation feels like a hammer bashing into your heart.
"You can't leave my daughter out there on her own to spend the night alone in the woods." Carol cries desperately.
Daryl glances to you, then the floor. Shaking his head, he responds. "Out in the dark's no good. We'd just be trippin' over ourselves. More people get lost." You know he's right. He's smart with these things, a natural. But you also know hearing this hurts Carol. Truthfully, it hurts you too. A part of you wants to stray from the group right now, tear the forrest apart until your hands are bloodied to find Sophia and bring her home to her mother.
But Daryl's right--so you stay.
The next morning is early, sun barely up. Dew slides over the morning grass, tickling your ankles as you all trudge through the forest. The air is damp and crickets chirp around you. It reminds you of early wakings during your school days as a child. Up before the sun so you could drown your stomach with sugary cereal before the bus called your name. It's nostalgic in such a bitter way. Sophia will never get that again, whether you find her or not.
The only two that hadn't come on the search were Dale and T-dog. Dale, to fix up the RV, and T-dog to rest. He'd landed himself a nasty gash on his arm during the herds passing. You're thankful Daryl was there.
Everyone else in the group, even including little Carl were gathered around you. Daryl, Shane, and Rick mainly led the charge-- but everyone was equal in effort of looking for signs. You'd lost count already how many times you'd crouched to inspect the dirt, trying your hardest to search for small shoeprints.
The search had been null, up until you found a campsite. Carol had called out, and you all held your breath in anticipation. When nothing came, Daryl investigated. Nothing but a man who'd been dead for a long while.
Now, you stare at Daryl. He's disappointed, maybe even frustrated. You guess he must feel pressure, feel that it's on him to do the tracking and finding. Your feet seem to move on their own, stalking towards him on shaky feet. He doesn't notice you coming, doesn't look up from his boots. But still, you reach a hand out, just mere moments away from touching his bare bicep--until the bells ring.
You freeze, catching Daryl's eyes immediately as he shoots up. And then, as if reality had snapped back into motion, you all run.
The church is a grim scene, the pews loaded with rotting corpses, staring lifelessly at the cross. When you swing the doors, they groan, turning and shuffling loudly across the wooden floors. The smell is overpowering. The air is thick with rot, moist and sickening.
It's fitting. Fitting to the soulless feeling of tearing through walker after walker, only to at the end be met with nothing but a pile of corpses; no Sophia in sight. Carol prays in front of the statue of Jesus, and you can't judge her for turning to faith in a time like this, but something about it turns your stomach.
How could a God allow a mother to be without her child? Suddenly, the air in the church feels like it's no longer air at all. You feel suffocated. You rush out, hand covering your mouth as a nauseous feeling rises. Falling to your knees in the grass, you huff breath after breath of fresh air. When will the constant loss end?
❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀
It's only a couple hours later when you're trudging through the forest, chatting with Glenn absentmindedly as Daryl leads your group back to the highway. And then, like a flash of lightning, a woman appears. The heavy thudding of her horse's hooves matches the rapid beating of your heart, and then she's yelling. Yelling that Carl has been shot. Then, you feel as if your heart stops at the same time the horse skids to a halt. He's stable, she says, but it's still a weight you're not sure you can handle.
You want to cry, to collapse, to give up. You want to curl into someone and share in your sorrow. When you turn to Glenn, your stomach swirls in sickness at his expression. Well, perhaps not the expression alone, but that the expression isn't being sent to you.
There, frozen in place, he stands. Awestruck eyes gazing up at the woman on the horse, jaw open. Your eyes fly between the two of them, time moving in slow motion. You can't even blame him. She's beautiful. Big, green eyes wide in urgency, tan skin slick with sweat, shining in the sunlight.
four characters who make you yell "MY MAN MY MAN MY MAN" !! I'll go first !
thought this was a silly idea keep it going! tagging ; @rrairey @httpshujii @cindol @shokosprincess @seneon @cheriiyaya @accidentcache @suntoru and anyone else wanting to participate !
tysm for the tag my beloved @venmondiese !! ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১
First I have my beautiful Shuji 💞 he is the definition of partner in crime. Then TO MY TRUE LOVE, MY MAN, THE OWNER OF MY HEART, DARYL MY BABYGIRL <333 They say not all men and they are right, Daryl wouldn't do that !!!
My Scud, donut eater and trusted smoker (my little slut)😽💞. And finally, one of my favorite protagonists, one of the most human and vulnerable AND I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE CRIMES AGAINST HUMANITY HE HAS COMMITTED (I want to give him a hug)｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡
No pressure tags: @celtic-crossbow @norman-fucking-reedus @scudslut 🍓
Daryl is an obvious one 😭😭 but other than that I did Dean from spn, Harwin from hotd, and one of my absolute biggest media crushes : Din Djarin!! Starting to think I have a type 😭
okay so I accidentally lied when I said the next chapter would be out in a week but I promise you guys I've been working on it every chance I get!! Over 2k words down <3
Hi everybody!! So sorry for the inactivity, had some family visiting and then a family emergency as well. Everything is hopefully figured out now so the next chapter of dbtd should be out within the next week! Love you guys
Would you think of writing a daryl x fem!reader, where the reader used to love ballet dance and when the group finally gets safety in alexandria, daryl catches rhe reader practising her dancing and admires her?
thank you so much! sorry if i have bad english!
💗
Hi anonnie!!! You're so sweet, and don't worry your english is perfect!! <3 tysm for the request, here it is!
Request (by anon) : Would you think of writing a daryl x fem!reader, where the reader used to love ballet dance and when the group finally gets safety in alexandria, daryl catches the reader practising her dancing and admires her?
A/N : this request was so cute!! tysm anonnie
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Daryl felt like he had never had passion before the apocalypse. All he knew to do was drift, go where the wind (Merle) takes him. He didn't have much interest in anything, just scraping by somehow. He found purpose in helping people at the end of the world.
You, though, you always had passion. He knows by the way you spoke of your time dancing, whispered stories under the stars. Your eyes always sparkled with adoration. Your love for ballet was something he'd never experienced until he met you.
For a long time, it was bittersweet when you'd mention dancing. You simply couldn't anymore. There was no music, no time, no safety. But then came Alexandria; and with it came music, time, safety.
It's hard for Daryl to blend into the suburban-esque community. He feels like an outcast, an embarrassment. But then he sees you like this.
In the middle of your shared hardwood living room floor, soft classical music pouring from the record player. You spin and twirl, move like water. You don't realize he's there in the doorway, too focused. There's a sheen of sweat glazing over your skin, bathing you with a beautiful shine. You hadn't found ballet shoes yet, so your feet twirl in flats. It's not correct, and sometimes you trip up, but he's impressed nonetheless. More than impressed, he's awestruck.
When the climax of the music hits, you twirl over and over at break neck speed, your sundress swishing in the air. It's beautiful, Daryl wants to commit the imagery to his mind forever. And then the music is fading out, and you slowly bow into a finishing pose.
The music fully ends and your head lifts. You're panting, hair sticking to your forehead with sweat, but you're gorgeous. Your eyes meet Daryl's, and you break into a smile. "Did you enjoy the show?" You tease, opening your waterbottle. Daryl watches a stray droplet slide a path over your neck.
"'Course. Pretty, always so pretty." He praises, but to him it doesn't feel like enough. There aren't enough words in the dictionary to express how godly you are to him. Still, his compliment makes you beam. 'Pretty' will have to be enough for now. He brushes his calloused fingers over you sweat-damp neck. "Come on, ballerina." He calls, turning and walking away. You trail after him with a gleaming smile on your face and a lightness to your feet. He called you pretty.
KEEP UP THE WORK HONEY YOURE DOING AMAZING SO TALENTED AT WRITING i appreciate you☝️☝️☝️
THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!! This is such a sweet message I appreciate this so much <333 genuinely so happy to receive this <3 sending you lots of love, anonnie
Warnings : violence, gore, the lineup, mentions of Daryl's time as Negan's prisoner, guilt, toxic sibling relationship, please lmk if I missed anything!
Word count : 1.2k
Request (by anon) : "daryls wife coming out as negans sister how will everything unfold when she learns????"
A/N : I could definitely expand on this universe more in the future! Hope this is along the lines of what anon was looking for!
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The last time you'd seen your brother, it ended in yells and tears. You were furious to find how he'd been treating his wife, the same wife that was wasting away each day. You'd told him, "Don't call me." And left his apartment. He didn't have much of a reaction, that stone cold expression, never meeting your eyes. But he'd stayed true to your request, and hadn't called ever again.
When the world turned upside down and the dead began roaming, you figured he was dead. Of course you still cared for him, had fond memories of seesaws and stray dogs. But you couldn't stand to think of the person he'd become, so it was easier to believe he was dead. To mourn, and then move on.
And move on, you did. You found a group, a group that quickly became family. To add, you even found love.
Daryl is a big heart hidden behind a gruff exterior, and he stole your heart before you even knew it. After months of pining, you finally threw in the towel and kissed him. It was clunky and awkward but it made your heart grow ten sizes. It wasn't long before he'd found a ring for you. A simple thing, a dainty band with a small green gem in the center. It isn't much visually, but it means the world to you.
Now, on the worst day of your life, you twirl the ring anxiously around your finger over and over. Beside you, Maggie trembles, pale and sweaty. A little further down the line is Daryl. He's hurt, bleeding and doubled over. You want to crawl to him, to stretch your body over his and protect him. Let his blood seep into your clothing. But you can't, you know that. Around you, the saviors keep alert, waiting for someone to act out of line. For someone to give them a reason. You won't.
And then the trailer door snaps open. "Pissing our pants, yet?" At first, you think you're hallucinating. Some sick and twisted trick your brain is playing on you. There's no way that your brother is the big bad wolf.
But then he sees you, and he laughs. A big, hearty laugh that crinkles the corners of his eyes. And then he's strutting over to you, bat swinging at his side. "Holy...shit!" He exclaims, leaning down to face you eye-to-eye. You meet his eyes, searching them. In your peripheral, you see Daryl begin to struggle, trying to reach you. You want to tell him that it's okay, that this is your brother, but you're not sure that's even true anymore. Who has he become? "Definitely did not expect to see you here!" Negan bellows, a happy grin on his face.
You can feel the confused gazes surrounding you, both from your friends and his. You don't dare look away from him, eyes steely and jaw set. But still, your hands move on their own accord, twirling the ring over and over. "Now this here...is an absolute plot twist! That is my baby sister, y'all!" He looks at your hands, at the ring you obsessively touch. "Oh! Now don't tell me my little sister is married to one of these pricks!" Daryl squirms.
"I am, not that it's any of your business." You spit. Negan twirls around, giving the lineup a good once over.
"Now wait! Don't tell me! Let me guess." He walks back and forth, exaggeratedly rubbing his chin in mock-thought. He stops in front of Rick, glancing to see your reaction. You don't move. And then Glenn, but when Maggie cries out, he swiftly moves on. Right to Daryl. You swallow harsh, holding your breath as he raises his bat to him. "I think I hit the jackpot! Get up, kid. Come sit next to your husband." You stand on shaky feet, sending one last lingering glance to Maggie before stumbling your way to Daryl.
When you reach him, falling to your knees, he shuffles forward, hiding you behind his frame. Negan laughs at the display. "Well, now that we've got that settled, let's get started!"
When all is settled and done, you can't look away from the patch of dirt and leaves you're perched on. Because if you do, you'd see your friends. Abraham and Glenn, or what's left of them. A mangled mess of gore, the soil below drinking their blood and tinging a crimson red. And you'd see that he's gone. Your love, ripped from you as you kicked and cried and screamed. You're not sure how long you sit, staring at the ground. But night turns into morning.
And then Maggie stumbles toward her husband. All the girls leap up, yourself included. You, Sasha, Rosita all help Maggie. Like some kind of widows club, you think bitterly.
There's a sense of guilt too, that this blood was spilled by someone of your own. That the same evil that runs through him could be in your veins, too. Rick can hardly meet your eyes.
In shame, you exile yourself to Hilltop with Maggie and Sasha. There's nothing for you in Alexandria anymore. You knew Negan wouldn't hurt you, but everyone else was free game and you didn't want to be there to see it. Let him believe you were dead. Maybe then he'd let Daryl go.
Hilltop is where you and Daryl reunite. It was somewhere around a week after the lineup, a week of hell for everyone. Daryl was weakened, beat and starved and sleep deprived. He practically falls into your arms.
The tears roll freely as your hands roam over his back, confirming that he's really there. Really with you. You're overcome with a strange mix of gratitude and guilt. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." You cry into him, tears staining his shoulder. He doesn't say anything, but he squeezes you tightly. That says more than words.
That night, as you both ready for bed, Daryl tells you all that he went through at the hands of your brother. You run your hands over the fresh bruises and the aged scars. "I'm sorry. I thought he was dead." You mumble, pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder. The dim light of the lamp casts an intimate glow over the two of you.
"He will be." Daryl grunts, but then he timidly adds. "...if ya want him to be." You know he's no stranger to a morally gray (or rather morally black) brother. His own brother was once his enemy too.
"I don't know, honestly. He's my brother but he hasn't been the same since even before all this." You sigh. "I wish things were different." The things Negan has done, they're unforgiveable. And yet, he may be the only blood you have left in the world. Doesn't that mean something?
You settle into the bed next to Daryl, wrapping your arms around his frame. His skin is warm and comforting against your own. Familiar. You begin to doze off, feeling safe knowing he's here with you, but before you reach sleep, you hear him. "Me too."
At that, you make a promise to yourself. You won't let your brother hurt Daryl anymore, no matter the cost. No one, including Negan, will take Daryl from you ever again.
