Please do not copy and paste my work anywhere, translate it, claim it as yours or rewrite it in any form. Everything I write is strictly mine.
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You lived at Alexandria, you had since the beginning of the apocalypse. Although you were a bit naive about the world outside the walls you weren't entirely closed off to it. When a new seemingly feral group showed up you were intrigued but also frightened at how they acted.
At the welcoming party you were bored so you went outside. You met Daryl and you two hit it off. He was a bit grumpy but you didn't mind.
As months passed by he was basically a guard dog, he'd protect you from overly flirty men or if he woke up worried walkers would get in and since you didn't have much training in defence you were more vulnerable.
He eventually took you outside the walls after months of begging he took you to practice shooting. You carried his crossbow through the woods and he carried a knife. He taught you to defend yourself and to his surprise you were happier. You felt more safe knowing you could defend yourself from the world around you. You learned how to use every common weapon.
Now, Daryl was never a cat person. He saw many stray cats in his life time but never payed them much mind. But now that his girlfriend had a cat he had no choice.
Each time he came over and sit down your cat, Smores, a fluffy black haired cat, would plop down on his lap. The first time Smores did that Daryl was confused; almost frightened. But as time went on it became routine. He'd even sometimes cook food he hunted at your house, each time Smores would run up smelling the food and meow loudly until he got his share of whatever it was.
"You're making him fat." You'd complain, it was true, he had definitely gained weight.
"What am I 'sposed ta do? Won't stop yellin' 'til I give 'im some" Daryl huffed, at first glance you'd think he was annoyed but you knew he loved Smores.
When he'd sleep over Smores claimed his spot between them preventing any cuddling.
Tonight you invited Daryl over for dinner. When he came in you went over to greet him. He gave you a quick kiss before asking;
"Where's Smores?"
"Upstairs probably"
He grabs a plastic baggy from his pocket shaking it.
"Come 'ere Smores! Got some squirrel for you!" He opens the bag.
After a few moments Smores, the now chunky cat comes barreling down the stairs meowing loudly. Daryl knelt down and fed Smores, petting his head once he finished all the food.
"You've officially become a cat dad" You told him.
"I know it.." He huffs.
Smores rubbed his head into Daryl's leg. Daryl leaned down and lifted the cat with an exaggerated groan.
"Damn fat cat"
"Don't complain now, you did that to him"
Daryl shoots you a playful glare. He knew damn well he did. He took Smores to the couch and sat down placing him on his lap. You sat beside Daryl and the three of you turned into a cuddle puddle on the couch.
"I love yah" Daryl grumbled in your hair his right hand petting Smores and his left wrapped firmly around you.
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warning: angst fluff angst fluff!! soft daryl, fear of physical touch, mentions of abuse, possibly more.
note: this is my first ever tumblr fic! i am open to criticism but any hate or mean comments will be deleted! but thank you everyone who decides to read. :)
Please do not copy and paste my work anywhere, translate it, claim it as yours or rewrite it in any form. Everything I write is strictly mine.
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When the group found the prison it was a major opportunity for normalcy. Lori was heavily pregnant and it was clear they needed a safe place for her to give birth and raise the baby. Once you all got the area clear you all made it homey for each other.
You made your cell as homey as you could, small candles and soft blankets. Your boyfriend, Daryl Dixon, the redneck of the group who constantly went on runs for food or supplies, specifically for Lori made sure to find stuff for you each time. Gift giving was definitely his love language. He hated physical touch, you assumed it was from the years of abuse he endured as a child from his parents and older brother Merle. You never pushed him. He kissed you in private or held your hand when he saw you anxious but the moment you gripped his arm it would all flood back.
Tonight you were in your cell reading a book you found in the prison library. You laid comfortable under the covers a flashlight rested on your shoulder shining enough light to read your book.
You saw movement and immediately look, watching as the blanket you put in the doorway of your cell for privacy move. You watch as your boyfriend Daryl appears. His long hair hung over his face hiding it completely.
"Daryl?" You sat up, confused. "I thought you were on a run.."
"I came back early" He told you, his voice gruff. "Can I sleep in here tonight?"
"Sure" You nod, this was definitely new.
He took off his boots and leather jacket. You lift the blanket that was covering you and he climbs in but to your surprise he immediately cuddles into you. He had never ever did that. You laid there still for a moment unsure what do to.
"Daryl?" You question.
He didn't respond or move. You were beyond confused. But you felt his body shake and hear a sniffle. You push him back gently and look at his face, he was crying.
"Daryl, talk to me."
"..I saw a walker"
"Yeah?"
"It looked like you for 'uh second"
You finally realized why he was upset. I wrap my arms around him. He clung onto the back of your shirt.
"I'm here, I'm safe. It wasn't me."
That night you both slept in each other's arms. Each time you moved he'd grunt in his sleep and adjust his grip on your shirt. You didn't know if this would be the new normal, but if it was you'd be forever grateful.
Synopsis: When a rich influencer's private jet makes an emergency landing in the backwoods of Georgia, she finds herself stranded in a place where WiFi is a myth and high fashion means a clean pair of boots. Enter a gruff, no-nonsense biker who reluctantly offers her a ride to the nearest city. He thinks she's insufferable; she thinks he's a prehistoric caveman. In no universe that they are made for each other. But fate—or bad luck—has other plans.
WC: 1k
Part 1
Daryl's POV
I had a bad feeling about this damn day from the moment I rolled outta bed. Maybe it was the way the air felt too still, too thick with the promise of trouble. Or maybe it was just my gut, warning me like it always did before something stupid happened. Either way, I shoulda listened.
I liked to keep to myself. Always had. My life was simple—hunt, trade, sell just enough to keep the local bastards off my back, and stay far away from people who looked like trouble.
And right now? Trouble was standing in front of me, wearing four-inch heels and a scowl that could melt paint off a barn.
Madeleine LaRue. Even her name sounded like something expensive. The kinda name that belonged in a penthouse somewhere, not stuck in the middle of Georgia, waving down strangers like she had a damn death wish.
I exhaled, slow and measured, already regretting this whole situation. I shoulda just started my bike and rode off when I saw her marching across the lot, all legs and attitude, but something made me wait. Maybe curiosity. Maybe stupidity. Probably both.
Now, she was planting herself in front of me like a damn roadblock, her designer purse hanging off one wrist like an afterthought.
"Ya gonna move, princess?" I asked, arching a brow.
Her arms crossed over her chest, pushing up against that tiny little top like she thought she could intimidate me. "Not until you agree to take me."
I let out a dry chuckle, digging my boot into the gravel. "You got a death wish, or just bad judgment?"
She huffed, tossing her hair over one shoulder. "Oh, please. Like I'd be safer sitting around here, waiting for some toothless hillbilly to come sniffing around."
I smirked, scratching at my beard. "Ya do realize I'm one of those hillbillies, right?"
She gave me a once-over, eyes flicking over my worn-out leather jacket, the scuffed-up boots, the knife strapped to my thigh. "You've got some teeth. That's a start."
I shook my head, fighting back a laugh. Lord, this woman had a mouth on her. I should walk away. Leave her to her own damn devices. But when I glanced toward the gas station, I noticed a couple of locals eyeing Madeleine like she was fresh meat. They weren't just looking—they were planning.
Yeah. This was a bad situation waiting to happen.
I muttered a curse under my breath and swung a leg over my bike. "Get on."
Madeleine blinked. "Wait, really?"
"Changed my mind." I jerked my chin toward the gas station. "Unless ya'd rather hang 'round and see what happens when they get brave."
She followed my gaze, her lips pressing into a thin line when she saw the way the men were watching her. With a small shudder, she turned back to me. "Fine. But if you kidnap me, just know that millions of people will come looking for me."
I snorted. "Yeah? Well, tell 'em to send me a thank-you card when they find out what a pain in the ass ya are."
Before she could argue, I reached behind me and grabbed a spare helmet, holding it out. "Put this on."
She wrinkled her nose. "Do you know how much bacteria is in a used helmet?"
"Do ya know how much brain matter is on the pavement when someone flies off a bike?"
She paled. "Fine."
With a dramatic sigh, she slipped the helmet on and climbed onto the bike behind me, her arms hovering awkwardly at her sides.
I rolled my eyes. "Ain't gotta be shy, princess. Wrap 'em around me, or you'll be eatin' dirt the second I hit the gas."
She hesitated, then, with a huff, looped her arms around my waist. It was stiff and reluctant, like touching me might physically hurt her.
I smirked. "Relax. I don't bite."
"Good," she muttered. "I just had my vaccines updated."
With a chuckle, I revved the engine, feeling her grip tighten. "Hold on tight, sweetheart."
And with that, we shot forward, tearing down the road and leaving that sorry little airstrip behind.
"What's your name, old man?" She asked as soon as we left.
"Daryl." I grumbled at her choice of words. Old. "Daryl Dixon."
The road stretched ahead, long and winding. The air was thick with the scent of pine and dirt, the sky burning orange as the sun started its slow descent. I felt the way Madeleine tensed behind me, like she wasn't sure whether to trust me or keep plotting her escape. Her grip was tight at first, like she was afraid she'd go flying off if she let go, but after a few miles, she relaxed. Just a little.
Didn't stop her from grumbling every few minutes, though. Something about the wind messing up her hair. As if I gave a damn.
We rode in silence for a long while, the hum of the engine the only sound between us. The highway stretched ahead, miles of cracked asphalt and overgrown brush, the occasional abandoned car rusting away on the side of the road. The deeper we got into the backroads, the further we were from anything she'd recognize. The realization musta hit her at some point because she leaned in closer and shouted over the wind, "Where exactly are we going?"
"Someplace with less creeps starin' at ya like a meal," I called back.
"That's not an answer!"
I smirked, giving the throttle a little more gas. She let out a yelp, her grip tightening around my waist.
"You're insane!" she shouted.
"Yeah, well, yer the one who jumped in front of my bike," I reminded her. "So what's that make ya?"
She didn't have a comeback for that. Instead, she just muttered something under her breath and rested her forehead against my back, probably planning all the ways she was gonna make my life hell once we got wherever we were going.
I shoulda been worried about what I'd just gotten myself into. About what kind of mess this woman was about to bring down on my head.
since the “bite” from walkers gives you a fever and technically that’s what kills you, would a human bite do the same? Like if someone bit you and drew blood would you get a fever and die?
is what i’m saying making sense can someone give me an answer to this
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Warning: violence, angst, threat of murder, and something satisfying at the end.
Negan begrudgingly leaves your side after an hour and you find yourself alone in the bedroom now in a kind of solitary confinement with a guard at the door, in completely different house than the kids. You were grasping at straws, feeling yourself going stir-crazy at not knowing what the hell was going on outside. You weren't sure where the kids were, whether they were safe, weren't sure if your husband was doing well, and what made it even worse was not knowing the whereabouts of your daughter.
Negan himself wasn't faring so well either, Ezekiel had chewed his ass out majorly over the loss of the map; making sure to drill it into Negan's mind exactly what he thought of him. Knowing he had fucked up and that it had cost them dearly, Negan could only think of one direction in which the situation could be save and he knew it wasn't going to be one you would approve of.
Whilst the two of you were battling the inner turmoil against yourselves, unbeknownst to all, Darly, Connie, Carol and Maggie were secretly making their way into Alexandria via the sewerage tunnels.
"So...", the Warden remarks with an arche brow as he stands up from behind his desk. "You gotta name for me...?"
Negan silently stares at him for a moment, finally a broad smirk crosses his lips. "Yes...", he remarks flashing him a toothy grin.
You slowly stirred awake at the loud commotion sounding from outside when suddenly a guard burst into your room. "Get up!", he commands abruptly.
"What's happen?", you scowl as he roughly pulls your arms behind your back to bind them and begins directing you out of the room.
"Don't ask questions just move!", he growls, pushing you to move faster. As you exited the building, that's when you notice that everyone was being dragged out of their sleep and marched towards the windmill.
"Y/N...?!", Ezekiel calls out, attempting to pull free himself when noticing you were restrained and being led by two guards in the same direction.
Nearing the windmill, everyone was near blinded by spotlights being turned on directly onto them. One the lights moves away and the Warden steps out into it, "there's a traitor in our midst...!", he loudly declares, stopping dead in front of Ezekiel. "Someone who thinks his above the rules."
For a split second, you thought he was referring to Ezekiel. That was until he turns to look to the side, and your heart instantly drop to your stomach when a restrained Negan was being led in front of everyone.
"This prisoner admitted to spearheading a rebellion", the Warden remarks, staring in Negan's direction now. Turning his attention back toward crowd, he continues, "any co-conspirators will be given the benefit of the doubt..." Heart racing, you stood helpless as he loudly read out what was clearly your husband's dead sentence. "I trust they were not acting of their own freewill. So, only he...", the Warden points in Negan's direction, "will be punished!"
Negan regards the Warden with a stoic look, spitting out the blood that had been pooling in his mouth at the Warden's feet in a last act of defiance. "But it's important that you're all here to see...", the Warden continues unfazed. "To remember...!"
"No! This is not happening! You could not lose your husband! Your daughter could not lose her father!"
Managing to break loose, you run forward as you cry out pleadingly, "Negan!" You don't make it far unfortunately as the guards intercepts you before reaching him.
"Hey. Hey... its ok...", Negan calls out to you assuringly as you helplessly sobbed at what was about to happen. Negan and you silently stare at one another as you continue to struggle with the guards, tears streaming down your cheeks at the thought of losing your husband. Giving you a look of content, Negan finally speaks, "I love you..."
"Get him on his knees!", the Warden orders.
"No!", you scream out, refusing to stop attempting to break free but your cries are ignored as they lead Negan to the base of the windmill.
"This is what happens when you forget your place", the Warden declare loudly. "Take your positions!", he commands as they place your husband on his knees a firing squad lines up in front of him.
"No!", you cry out, trying with all your strength to get to him. "Don't let him do this! No!", you plead with all your might, "Ezekiel, help him!"
Everyone remained exactly where they were, none of them even attempting to speak up. "Was this really what it had come to? You had lived with these people for years, helped provide for them, protected them, even considered some of them friends, and this was how they were repaying you? Standing silently by, refusing to heed your pleas for help as they slaughtered your husband and the father of your newborn child right in front them."
You were so lost in anguish that you don't notice Negan flashing the Warden a triumphant smirk. The Warden stares at Negan in realization then, "there are no martyrs here", he remarks, walking up and grabbing you.
"No. No!", Negan screams out at the Warden as he drags you forward to kneel beside your husband. "That wasn't our deal!", Negan attempts to get up and stop what was happening. "Take me. Take me!", he pleads whilst struggling to protect you, but he's forced back down.
"You will feel this punishment!", the Warden mercilessly remarks to Negan as everyone stood in utter shock that you were to be executed alongside your husband.
"That is not what you said!", Negan screams out as the Warden steps aside. "No! You take me! Just me!" Negan helplessly stares at the guards lined up to execute you, one gives an obnoxious smirk, the second is completely stoic and the third one eyes were glazed with a bit of pity.
"Ready...", the Warden calls out and they raise their weapons.
"You...", Negan calls out to the fourth guard, he had been the one who Negan had escorted Negan to the Warden and then to you earlier. "You have a family...", Negan pleads with him. "Don't do this. Please...!"
The guard seemed to second think the situation as his weapon lowers slight. "I said, ready!", the Warden growls out, but Negan continues to plead with the guard.
"Leave her! Take me! Just take me!", Negan presses. "Our baby needs her mother. Please...!"
Ignoring Negan's words, "aim...", the Warden calls out and the guards do so. Taking one last look at Negan, you give him faint smile as he stares back at you, utterly gutted that couldn't at least save you. With silent tears, you turn to look forward and await your fate, when suddenly Ezekiel steps out in front of the two of you.
"What are you doing?", a shocked Negan whispers at him.
"I don't know", Ezekiel responds with raised hands, turning to face the firing squad. Soon, Magna, Kelly and a few others join him.
Negan, you and the guards all look on astonished. "I admire your bravery...", the Warden remarks in amusement, turning toward the guards, "shoot them all." Some of them reluctantly raise their weapons as the crowd begin to loudly remark in protest.
The group surrounding Negan and you, take a step backward to enclose around you. "You don't have to do this", Ezekiel pleads with them. "This world is broken, but we don't have to be."
The first reluctant/fourth guard silently lowers his weapon, tears forming in his eyes as he turns to his fellow guards. One by one, they all lower their weapons, except for obnoxious guy. Realizing what was happening, he does lower it but only for a second; aiming it at 'fourth guard', when he raises his weapon in the Warden's direction. 'Fourth guard', manages to shoot him first, giving the Warden the opportunity to grab Kelly during the distraction. Placing a gun against Kelly's head and using her as human-shield in an attempt to escape. Everyone rushes forward to stop him as slowly backup away with a sobbing Kelly, distracting him from the fact that Daryl and Connie were right behind him.
Once free, Negan throws a now injured Warden facedown onto the ground, raising a rock in the air in preparation to bash his brains. "Negan!", someone yells out for him to stop. Pausing mid-air, Negan turns to see Rosita and Gabriel hastily approaching. "Don't kill him", Rosita instructs as Gabriel turns him onto his back. "Where's my daughter?", Rosita demands grabbing hold of him.
"He knows where Coco is?", you anxiously rush forward to stand over beside Rosita. "Then he must know what happen to my baby?"
The Warden looks at both you and Rosita, breathlessly chuckling at your desperation to find your children. "Where are they?!", Rosita screams in his face, yet he still refuses to respond. Fed-up with his bullshit, Rosita decks him hard in the face. Noticing the now reanimated dead guard attempting to stand up, she drags him over and you step back as far as possible as she dangles the Walker over his face. "Where are they?!", Rosita demands as you watched with pleasure. "Tell us where they are?!"
He flashes her cocky grin, "you will lose everything...", are the words he utters out. Rosita's gazed shoots toward you, to confirm if you had heard his words. With a huge scowl on your face; you tilt your head to the side, silently responding with a high arched brow. Acknowledging it with one of her own, Rosita shoves the Walker direction into his face to devour him, briskly storming out thereafter.
As entertaining as you would have found the scene, you decide to forgo it; following Rosita instead, as finding your children was most important on both your list.
