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topazy · 2 years

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Tomorrow’s promise

Pairing: Shane Walsh x reader, Rick Grimes x sister reader

Warnings: swearing, minor violence, cheating

Chapter: 1.02

Shane snapped out of his trance, stepping towards you. He cupped your face gently before looking down at the baby in your arms.

“Lils…” he sighs.

“He’s ours, Shane. He’s our son.”

There was a quiet nervousness among the group, indicating that everyone was still processing what had just happened. Zombies, death,and a new life. You look at Shane to watch your brother trying to calm his son down. Feeling your eyes on her, Lori looks up at you and lets out a sharp intake of breath and claps her hand over her mouth.

“Oh my god,” she says, teary-eyed.

Sensing the change in his mom, Carl turns to see what she was staring at and notices you, “Aunt Lily.”

He runs to you and wraps his arms around your waist and sobs into your stomach. “Hey, munchkin,” you softly say. “I’m so glad you're okay.”

“I thought-I thought you and dad were dead.”

You run your hands through his hair, trying to comfort him while others start to grieve over the loss of their friends and loved ones. While your brother tries to help a blonde woman who keeps waving him off, Lori stays still with the same expression on her face, except this time she’s not looking at you. She’s looking at Shane.

—

Daytime came quickly, and when it did, plans needed to be made. The bodies needed to be dealt with, food rations needed to be sorted, shelters needed to be rebuilt, and an idea of where the group was heading would need to be decided. But after only being in the presence of most of these people for one night, you didn’t say anything; you didn’t want to overstep.

You had offered to help burn the dead, but both Rick and Shane told you to stay inside the RV with Jace. You understood they wanted to keep you safe, but you couldn’t sit and do nothing.

You stepped outside the RV curiously and watched as a man named Morales helped Daryl move the body of someone who’d been killed by a walker the night before towards a pile of bodies.

“What are you guys doing? This is for geeks. Our people go over there,” Glenn says, pointing towards a different spot distressed.

Daryl shrugs him off, “What's the difference? They're all infected.”

“Our people go in that row over there. We don't burn them! We bury them. Understand? Our people go in that row over there.”

Both men seem unconvinced. Glenn doesn't say anything further. He just picks up a shovel and starts to head in the direction he plans on digging.

You notice nobody goes to help him at that moment, and you turn to look at Glenn. “I’ll help you, just give me a moment.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Behind you, the door opens, and Lori steps out behind you with Carl by her side. “Can you watch Jace? I’ll be back shortly.”

“Um, yeah, sure,” she says, uncomfortable. It was confusing to you why your sister-in-law was refusing to make eye contact with you, but you were sure Shane had something to do with it.

You pick up a shovel and follow Glenn until Shane steps in front of you. He wasn’t happy with you because he snapped, “What the hell are you doing?”

“Someone needs to help dig holes for the dead.” His expression shifts from angry to stressed. You’ll know where to find me.”

—

You walk back into camp and throw the shovel down before taking Jace from Lori’s arms. You’d only been apart from him for less than an hour, but it felt like a lifetime. You kissed the side of his head before placing him back into his sling, while listening to the current conversation.

“I say we put a pickaxe in his head and the dead girl's and be done with it,” Daryl says bluntly, looking over at a man named Jim. You weren’t there to hear what had happened, but you assumed Jim had either been bitten or scratched judging by how the others were reacting.

“Is that what you'd want if it were you?” Shane asks.

“Yeah, and I'd thank you while you did it.”

An older man named Dale shook his head, “I hate to say it... I never thought I would... But maybe Daryl's right.”

Your brother faces him with a look of disgust on his face and says, “Jim's not a monster, Dale, or some rabid dog.”

Dale tries to take back what he was implying, “I'm not suggesting…”

“He's sick. A sick man When we start down that road, where do we draw the line?”

“The line's pretty clear. Zero tolerance for walkers, or them to be.”

“He's kinda right,” your brother says, turning to face you with a surprised expression. “Look, I don’t want anyone to die, but death seems like the kindest thing to do. It’s what I’d want if it was me.”

“What if we could get him help? I heard the CDC was working on a cure.”

Shane looks at Rick as if he’s grown a second head, “I heard that too. I heard a lot of things before the world went to hell.”

“What if the C.D.C. is still up and running?”

“Man, that is a stretch right there.”

You elbow Shane lightly, mentally telling him to cut it out. His shortness with Rick was starting to piss you off.

“Why? If there's any government left, any structure at all, they'd protect the C.D.C. at all costs, wouldn't they?” Rick asks. “I think it's our best shot. Shelter, protection…”

Shane lets out a frustrated sigh, “Okay, Rick, you want those things, all right? I do too, okay? If they exist, they're at the army base. Fort Benning.”

“Isn’t that a hundred miles in the opposite direction?”

He nods, “It is. But it's away from the hot zone. Now listen to me. If that place is operational, it'll be heavily armed. We'd be safe there. Jace would be safe there.”

“The military were on the front lines of this thing. They got overrun. We've all seen that. The C.D.C. is our best choice and Jim's only chance,” Rick says, holding Shane’s intense gaze.

“None of this matters right now, not while there’s a more pressing matter that needs to be dealt with first.”

“She’s right,” Daryl says in agreement. “Someone needs to have some balls to take care of this damn problem!” Daryl picks up a pickaxe and storms towards Jim.

“That’s not what I meant!”

Rick points his gun at Daryl's head just as he lifts his arm, “We don't kill the living.”

“That's funny coming from a man who just put a gun to my head.”

“We may disagree on some things, but not on this,” Shane says, trying to talk him down. “You put it down. Go on.”

Daryl puts the pickaxe down and storms off, mumbling under his breath, while Ricks helps the dying man stand, “Come with me.”

“Where are you taking me?” Jim asks, confused.

“Somewhere safe,” Rick says, walking Jim towards the RV.

—

You are walking with a bounce in your step, trying to stop Jace from fussing. The quarry wasn’t far from camp, and you insisted on walking ahead of the others, although they were still close enough to be in your line of vision. When you reach the newly dug gravesite, you can hear your brother and Shane talking.

“Say it.”

“Okay. I'm thinking if you'd stayed here, if you'd have looked after your own... Instead, you went off. You took half our manpower with you. I'm thinking maybe our losses wouldn't have been so bad.”

You're left speechless at how harsh Shane’s words are. It wasn’t Rick's fault that the dead attacked late at night when they were unprepared.

“If we hadn't gone off and brought those guns back when we did, I think our losses would have been a lot worse. Maybe the entire camp. Also, I wouldn’t have brought back my sister and your son.”

“That’s not fair. I thought Lily was dead and I had no idea she was pregnant,” Shane says defensively. “This isn’t about them, it’s about you leaving.”

Before they can continue, Daryl pulls up in the truck with the rest of the bodies in the back. He jumps out and immediately starts to moan, “I still think it's a mistake to not burn these bodies. It's what we said we'd do, right? Burn 'em all. Wasn't that the idea?”

“At first,” Shane replies, as his eyes land on you. He was no doubt wondering how much you heard.

You roll your eyes as Daryl continues. “The Chinaman gets all emotional and says it's not the thing to do. Can we just follow him along? These people need to know who the hell's in charge here, what the rules are.”

“There are no rules.”

“Well, that's a problem,” Lori says, standing beside you. “We haven't had one minute to hold onto anything of our old selves. We need time to mourn and we need to bury our dead. It's what people do.”

While Andrea says goodbye to her sister, who was killed by a walker the night before, you study everyone else’s faces. You tilt your head and look at Lori. Following her line of sight, you see Shane watching as he scratches at his chin nervously.

Shane meets your gaze and you instantly know the secret he’s been trying to hide by the guilt written on his face.

You feel your knees starting to go weak.

As your stomach drops, you take a deep breath and quietly excuse yourself and walk back to camp, pushing back tears. You weren’t going to let either of them see you cry.

—

You sit by the window in the RV while you finish feeding Jace, watching the others walk back into camp with a grim expression on their faces. Jim was sleeping in the back, occasionally talking to himself, but you were alone except for him.You allowed yourself to briefly cry, but you pulled yourself together. Now wasn’t the time to fall apart. You needed to be strong for Jace, plus you didn’t know anything for certain, despite what your gut feeling was telling you.

You freeze when you notice Shane joining Lori at the doorway, while your brother is walking in their direction.

“I guess I'll just add it to the list of habits that I'm breaking whether I like it or not.”

“What habits?” Your brother asks

“Just his need for a plan,” you say, opening the door, giving all three of them a fright. “So what is it? Are we leaving or staying?”

Rick gently runs his fingers over Jace’s head, “We can't stay here, it’s not safe.”

“I was just telling Shane I think we should trust your gut,” Lori states.

You scoff at her words, earning a fearful look from your fiancé and a confused one from Rick.

Shane sighs, “Let's go do our sweep.”

“We need to talk before you leave,” you tell Rick, motioning for Shane to follow.

—

Shane follows you toward the edge of camp, which looks over a small field. You let out a deep breath, and turned to face him, and when you did, he immediately started to apologise.

“Baby, I’m so sorry,” he pleads, trying to reach for you, but is cut off when you shove him in the chest.

“Get the fuck away from me!” You hiss. “How could you do this to me?”

He flinched.

“You fucked her right?”

He gives you a pained look. His voice sounds weak as he says, “You have no idea how much I regret what happened.”

“Regret it? This isn’t some random girl at a bar you’ve slept with; it's your best friend's wife. My sister-in-law. Your family.”

“I know…”

“If me and Rick never came back, would you still be sleeping together?”

“No,” he answers quickly. “God no. It was a mistake. If I could do anything to change things, I would, but I can’t. We all make mistakes.”

You shake your head and wipe your fallen tears away, knowing that nothing he said could fix this. “I’ve done a lot of shit I’m not proud of and I’ve put you through a lot these past few years, but I’ve never once looked at a man.”

You groan into your hands, trying to take a moment to think. Sensing movement around you, you look down to see Shane crouching on the ground with his head in his hands, looking like a broken man. He looks up at you with tears in his eyes, “baby, Lily, please tell me how to fix this. All I want is to keep you, Jace, and Carl safe.”

You chew on your bottom lip trying to hold a sob back. You believe what he’s saying. You don’t doubt that he’d do anything to protect you, but why he would is a different thing. “Do you still love me?”

He looks hurt by the question, “How can you even ask that?”

“Because you had sex with someone else, how could I not?” your voice crackles. “Do you have feelings for her?”

Shane stands and cups your face so you are looking directly at him. “I love you. I’m in love with you. If I wasn't, I wouldn’t have stayed with you when you needed help, or spent every goddamn minute since the world went to hell grieving for you. I dragged all those people to Atlanta because I wanted to look for you, but when I heard the city was gone, I gave up. I assumed the worst, and for that I’m sorry. I’m sorry about everything. But the moment you walked into camp with Jace, nothing else mattered.” He kisses the back of your hand. “Can you forgive me?”

You blink away the fresh tears that are building up. With your vision becoming more clear, you can see the look of concern in his eyes as you struggle to find your voice again. He sighs, “If you keep doing that, your lip is going to bleed.”

You stop chewing on your lip and faintly taste blood. You can see your words are swaying heavily on him. “I will talk to Lori when I stop wanting to scratch her eyes out, but in the meantime, Rick can’t know. This would break him.” You gulp down, “I can try.”

A hopeful smile spreads across his face, “you will?”

“I will, but…” His face falls flat again. “You need to swear to me nothing else is going on between you and Lori, and you will always put Jace first.”

“I swear it on my life.”

—

When you walk back into the main camp area, you notice everyone standing in a group, “What’s going on?”

“I think they are waiting to find out what the plan is,” Shane answers quietly. “What do you want to do? We could always stay behind, just the three of us. We’d make it on our own.”

“I’m not leaving my brother.”

“Okay,” he reluctantly agrees with you and clears his throat to get everyone’s attention. “I've been, uh, I've been thinking about Rick's plan. Look, there are no signs ofThere are no guarantees either way. I'll be the first one to admit that. I've known this man for a long time. I trust his instincts. I say the most important thing here is that we need to stay together. So those of you that agree, we leave first thing in the morning.”

Rick looks at him surprised. “Okay?”

As they continued talking, you tried to study Shane’s body language. He still radiated confidence, but that might have come from his years as a cop. You were taken aback by his suggestion that you could go it alone; the idea was insane. You’d never make it longer than a week, and you’d never leave without your family.

—

“Why can’t I ride with you and Shane?” Carl asks with a pout. He was bored listening to them talk about the logistics of things, but you knew Lori and Rick would be hurt if they knew he’d asked.

You ran your fingers through Carl's thick brown hair and sighed; you hated disappointing him. You knelt down so you were the same height, “because your dad needs someone to cheer him up, and you're the only one who can do it.”

He gently stroked Jace’s cheek, then went back to his mom.

Moments later, you got in the car with Shane, who drove off without saying a word. His mood had dramatically dropped since Morales and his wife, Miranda, decided to stay behind because they wanted to go and find their family.

You noticed your brother had left a note for the man who saved him, Morgan, on the side of one of the cars. You hoped Morgan and his son would be able to find your group soon.

“Why didn’t you want the kid to drive with us?” Shane asked, breaking the silence.

“He should be with his parents,” you answer while gazing out the window. “Besides, Carl would hate being stuck in when Jace wakes up. He’d get irritated by the crying.”

“The little man doesn’t cry much, which is lucky.”

“Yeah…”, spin back and look behind you, noticing the RV pulling over to stop. “Something is wrong.”

Shane abruptly stopped, “Stay in here with Jace.”

—

You waited inside the car with Jace, cooing softly as you fed him. Your eyes were occasionally scanning the area to make sure the dead weren’t lurking nearby. You just hoped the group made it to the CDC without any more hiccups, aside from the RV breaking down.

A few more moments passed by, and Shake rejoined you in the car with a devastated look on his face.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“Jim... He’s asked us to leave him behind. So we did. Me and Rick just left him beside a tree for him to die alone.”

You squeezed his hand, “If it’s what Jim wanted, there was nothing else you could do.”

—

“Holy shit,” you say as you step out of the car and immediately zip up your jacket over your head to protect Jace from the bugs.

The outside of the CDC was nothing but a large graveyard covered with hundreds of rotting bodies and swarms of flies.

Shane placed his hand on your back and spoke quietly while he addressed the group. “All right, everybody. Keep moving. Go on. Stay quiet. Let's go. Okay, keep moving. Stay together.”

Somehow you all manage to make it to the building without waking the dead, but it’s all for naught as when you reach the building it’s locked up with metal shutters that won’t budge. Both you and Rick attempt to open it, but nothing happens.

“Nothing?” Shane pounds on the door.

You go to tell him to stop being so loud, but it’s too late.

“Walkers!” Daryl calls out before shooting one directly in the head with an arrow.

You reach for the knife on your belt, but your sudden moments frighten Jace, who’s strapped to your chest, causing him to let out a small whine.

Shit.

Daryl glared at your brother, “You led us into a graveyard!”

“He made a call.”

“It was the wrong damn call!” He snaps back.

You storm towards him, “Just shut up. You hear? Shut up. Shut up! Rick, this is a dead end. What do we do now? This place is going to be crawling with walkers soon.”

“She's right,” Lori says in agreement. “We can't be here this close to the city after dark.”

Noticing a walker coming up behind Glenn, you run for it and stab your knife into its skull. Glenn looks at you wide-eyed, “Thanks man.”

“We gotta go! Everyone back to their vehicles, they can at least give us shelter for now!”

While everyone started running towards the vehicles, you noticed not everyone was there. You look back towards the building to see Shane trying to talk to Rick, who was still trying to get inside. “Man, just listen to me. Look around this place. It's dead, okay? It's dead. You need to let it go, Rick.”

“I know you're in there. I know you can hear me.”

Rick continues to bang on the shutters, so you run back to him and help Shane pull him back. “We need to go now! The dead are coming!”

Rick ignores you and starts to beg while looking up at a security camera. “Please, we're desperate. Please help us. We have women, children, no food, hardly any gas left.”

Shane wraps his arm around you, brother, and manages to pull him back, “Come on, buddy, let's go. Let's go.”

“Please help us. You're killing us! You're killing us! You're killing us!”

Suddenly, one of the shudders opens, revealing a bright light leading into a hallway. Rick was right; someone was inside the CDC.

#the walking dead #shane walsh x you #shane walsh x reader #rick grimes x reader #Rick grimes x sister reader #Shane Walsh #fear the walking dead fandom #fear the walking dead fanfict #tomorrow’s promise #twd fanfiction

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hannahssimblr · 2 months

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Chapter Twenty-Six (Part 2)

Afterwards we congregate at Granny’s cottage and sit out in the garden with the sun bursting through the clouds and the sharp smell of dandelion and nettle in the air as we sit around near the untrimmed borders of her garden. I sit and chat with Sean, Fabiana and Granny while Jude and Decky talk by the back door into the scullery.

“You can see, like, the way it breaks off like that.” Decky holds out a piece of turf that he brought in yesterday. “That’s after the cold winter this year, it won’t make for the best burning after that, it’s the frost, like.”

“Right, right. Cool, man.” Jude says, and he clearly has no idea what Decky is talking about but they’ll discuss the bog because they’ve likely already figured out they have exactly nothing in common.

When mam calls me into the kitchen to help her to make a salad, he follows me without hesitation. “You don’t need to help.” I tell him. “This kitchen is the most hellish place on earth, believe me.”

“I don’t mind.” He shrugs, because he thinks his comfort in most kitchens will equate to comfort in Granny’s one. I don’t know how to tell him that he is wrong while she’s standing right there.

My mother looks confused when he comes down the steps to join her and Catriona. “You’re not staying with the lads, no?”

He shakes his head. “I’ll help out with whatever if it’s alright.”

“Well, that’s fine with me.” She blows her fringe from her sweaty forehead and directs him to a loaf of bread. “Can you make sandwiches?”

“Yeah, I can.”

Meanwhile I’m burdened with the cucumber salad, and it’s less than a minute before mam is backseat driving. “Evie! What way are you cutting those cucumbers at all? That’s not how you do it, c’mere, let me see.” I don’t even resist, I just relinquish the knife to her because this is how she is. She wants help until it’s not done the exact way she wants it. She murmurs away to herself about the state of the salad, and I just stand there and wait for her to finish giving out about it. I catch Jude craning his neck to catch a glimpse of what I’ve done on the chopping board and a small frown appears between his brows. “I think she’s done it completely fine, Marian.”

I look at him. She looks at him. Catriona looks at him. He looks a bit confused as to why he’s caused a standstill in the kitchen, but he goes on anyway, “There’s nothing wrong with the way they’re cut at all, from what I can see.” Mam’s not used to being contracted, and to my surprise she immediately backs off and hands me back the knife. “Alright, go ahead so.” She goes back to skewering cheese and grapes, and I try to catch Jude’s eye to mouth thank you, but he’s returned to the sandwich assembly, not even aware of his impact, and he’ll do this all day. Gently, casually sticking up for me every time she tries to criticise, reminding her of my capability and my strength until she seems to get embarrassed enough to stop, eyes flashing with things unsaid, like: Shane Healy would never do this to me. He probably wouldn’t, so it’s lucky that I never fell in love with him.

In the early evening, we join Conor and Nicole at the end of the garden as she tries to feed the hens bits of her lunch through the fence. She gets freaked out when they try to peck at her so we eventually retreat to a couple of benches set up in a sun trap by the hydrangeas.

“It’s really cool that you’re both artists.” She tells us. “I just think it’s so nice when people do what they actually want to do, do you know what I mean?” She grins at Conor, who is not doing what he actually wants to do, whatever his dreams may be, I don’t know, but we all suspect that they don’t include working with the council. “So I don’t really understand.” She says to Jude. “You want to… like, make things for TV shows?”

“Yeah like you know, props and things like that. My degree was in sculpture so it sort of relates. The props department creates every custom item that’s needed for the film or the show. They’d handle things like, say, weapons or custom furniture, even things like glass that breaks safely, things like that.”

“That’s so cool.” Her eyes are very big and wide. “Can you do that here?”

“No,” he says, “I’ve looked around a lot and at this point it’s pretty safe to say that I won’t get a job doing that here. At the moment I’m looking further afield, most likely the UK, you know, there’s a bit more work there.”

“The UK will work out,” I say confidently, “He’s applied for a few jobs in the last couple of days so it’ll most likely be London.”

“Great city,” Says Conor, who visited Slough once for a weekend.

“So are you going to go over then too?” Nicole asks me, “Like, finish up college in a London college or something?”

“No, I’ll stay in NCAD for the time being,”

“And you’ll do long distance, like?”

It’d be nice if she didn’t seem so appalled by the prospect. “It’s not far.”

“Quicker to get from Gatwick to Dublin airport than it is from D7 to D4,” volunteers Conor, the expert. “Sure that’d be no bother to ye.”

“Exactly,” I say, “It’d be so fine, we’re planning to just fly back and forth every other weekend, and really, it’ll only be nine months or so and then I’ll move myself once I’ve graduated.”

“You think you can do that?” Nicole says doubtfully.

“We can do it,” Jude says as he takes my hand. “Like Conor said, it’s really close, same time zone, I have no doubt that we’ll manage alright.”

“That’s great,” She says, and her smile is broad and white and not touching her eyes. She changes the subject, “That film stuff is so cool though, wouldn’t it be unreal to see your name in the credits of a movie?”

“I suppose it would.”

“Did you ever think about America?”

“What about America?”

“As a place to work?”

My stomach plummets to my toes.

“Um,” He says. “Not really.”

“But like, Hollywood and all, isn’t that an obvious choice to make? That’d what I’d be thinking of anyway,” she looks to Conor who is nodding along agreeably. “That’s where they do all the main movie stuff, how cool would that be?”

“Someday maybe.”

“Sure you’re an American citizen and all, you’d easily get work there without having to worry about all that visa stuff, couldn’t you? Would you ever just apply and see what happens?”

“Yeah I think I’d probably prefer to stay closer to home though. The US is a long way away, you know?”

“No harm applying, I’d say. Sure the world is your oyster. I bet there’s heaps of jobs over there.”

“There’s a few.”

I glance at him sharply, “Have you looked?”

He hesitates. “Yeah, but like, it’s not a possibility for me, they’re all looking for years of experience and I’d just never be in with a chance. It’s much more realistic that I’d get a few years experience working somewhere like the UK before I’d ever think about moving somewhere like LA.”

“Ah, well.” Nicole smiles at me. “I suppose London is probably the best choice for now.”

“Yeah,” I say, and think about how much I’d like for her to stop asking us about this.

“Sure whatever happens, happens,” she says brightly, “Maybe one day I’ll see your name in the credits of the next Steven Spielberg film or something like that,”

“Yeah, maybe!” Jude replies, and I’m already pulling him away to accompany me to the drinks table.

Fabiana approaches Jude and I on the lawn sometime later. She is completely frazzled, her mouth in a thin quivering line with stiletto heels sinking into the grass as she drags Lucas behind her. Freddy squirms in one arm. “Please.” She says. “Can you watch them for a while?”

Alarmed, I say. “Of course! Are you alright?”

“I have to lie down. Get a glass of wine. Anything.” She puts baby Freddy right into my hands and practically fires Lucas into Jude like a shot put. “I just need to be on my own. They even come to the bathroom with me, I just need a few minutes.”

“It’s okay, Fabiana, you can take all the time you need.” I glance into the house as she hurries away, looking for uncle Sean. What is he doing in there? I spot the back of his head on the couch next to my dad, engrossed in a rugby match.

I look at the baby, and he looks at me. I feel stumped. “Hello.” I say awkwardly. He babbles back and kicks his little feet which are stuffed into his yellow onesie, but I have no idea what to do. The last time there was a baby in this family was when I was born. Twenty one years ago.

Jude is already engrossed in his new friend Lucas. He asks him questions, like how many people live in his house, and what his favourite colour is (Red, green and orange, he can’t decide.) Jude knows how to talk to kids. I don’t. I gently place Freddy onto the picnic blanket and he lies there, babbling and smiling and trying very hard to roll over onto his tummy. I offer him my finger and he wraps his hand around it. His fingernails are so tiny. “I don’t know how to be.” I tell him. “I don’t usually hang out with babies.”

“Here.” Jude takes his keys out of his pocket and offers them to me. “He’ll like these.” Freddy does. In fact, he more than likes them. He is utterly mesmerised by the shapes and the sounds and the feel of them, and I watch him, mesmerised back as he learns the curves and the angles of this simple object for the first time. I feel like I never appreciated the complexity of keys before, and they’re kind of amazing.

Next to me, Jude stands up and swoops Lucas with him, arm hooked under his belly as he lifts him high up into the sky and around in a loop. It reminds me of Decky and me when we were kids, only usually Decky would swing me by the ankle, or put me into a pillowcase and whip me in a circle, because nobody cared about those kinds of things in the nineties. They probably also let uncle Sean blow cigarette smoke into my face for a joke, for all I know. It’s weird to imagine myself so small.

“You’re so good with them.” I tell him, and he shrugs. “I’m used to it, I suppose. With Ivy being so much younger and all…” He lets Lucas down on the grass and he immediately tries to climb up on him again.

I start thinking about Jude as a child who was responsible for another child, and it’s such a weird thought when I think about myself at the same age. My childhood went on for so long, because my parents let it, even though eventually it was in secret. When I was fourteen, Kelly walked in on me playing with dolls, and I know that if she hadn’t embarrassed me out of it, I would have continued doing it for a while longer too. When Jude was fourteen he was experimenting with drugs. His parents should have been there for him, they should have let him ride his bike and climb trees. My innocence and my sheltered upbringing was always something that made me feel defective in some way, like I had to try extra hard to catch up with the other girls, but knowing how Jude had it makes me want to cling to every piece of mine, to go back and urge my younger self to hold on and to appreciate it. Every Barbie doll and Lego house, Saturday morning cartoons and endless summers. Don’t let it go.

I look out across the garden when Jude and Lucas have now escaped, having found that ancient, sun bleached Fisher Price car that’s always stuck in the hedge that must have belonged to one of my cousins once, and Jude keeps pretending that he’s going to get inside it while Lucas laughs hysterically and reminds him he’s too big! Then the wildest, most ludicrous thought I’ve ever had crosses my mind. That I can probably see myself having a baby with him one day. It’s like the thought was so huge that he’s heard me have it, and he glances over at me with his keys on my finger, holding baby Freddy’s tiny hand, and he gives me the most heartbreaking smile, squinting against the sun, hair sticking up from where Lucas was grabbing at it.

“I love you,” I mouth.

“Yeah, and I love you,” he mouths back, as though he’s already heard me say it to him a hundred times.

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#lucky girl part 3

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havin-fun-imagining-twd · 2 years

Text

Picking a flower = saving the day

Howdy, slowpokes, mb for the late, late, late chapter again. Give yourselves about 15 and get comfy, y’all!

When - right after Better with a friend. You and Daryl are stuck in a thunderstorm while out searching for Sophia.

What - the search gets cut short due to torrential rains, you and Daryl argue a little, and goddang it but you just want to find a present for Carol. Daryl also fesses up about when he got lost for 9 days, that’s a big step for him.

Relationships - it’s you two, otherwise only T-Dog pops in at the end when you finally make it back to the farm. Y’all do radio the camp at one point, so Papa Dale and big bro Shane are mentioned.

Pronouns - she/they again

Perspective - 2nd person you, third person Dixon

Genre - it’s part of the Slowpoke Series, idk, friends

TWs - language, mention of childhood physical abuse, parental death mention, and Daryl does refer in his head to Jacqui as “the black lady” before remembering her name.

Plot points - a quarter per white lie, reader’s migraines (and the prodrome phase of getting one), reader hating feeling weak, Two idiots, It was a pragmatic cigarette, What were your nightmares about?, Daryl’s childhood cat named Eyes. T-Dog and Daryl’s growing friendship (I say it’s canon). The story “Quarter!” I’ll put more if I think of them.

Masterlist will give you all the Slowpoke news published so far, as well as a Ko-fi link if you’re able to assist my tire budget :D

“Where we heading?”

“Just follow me!”

Through the thunderstorm, he leads the way. Mud starts to cake his shoes, ankles, and calves.

It’s hard to tell which way to head, a few times he veers off-trail. He’s pretty sure he gets lost for a while.

When the rain gets so heavy that visibility drops and parts of the path turn into small pools or streams, Y/N’s hand grabs the back of his shirt and clings to it.

It’s bad outside. Raining cats and dogs and horses, probably a couple cows and pigs, too.

Then he finally sees the shed that was at the farmhouse and almost cries with relief that he’s found it again.

He leads them by the arm to the side door, crossbow ready.

Y/N gets her pistol out, good.

And as he enters first, the sounds of them shouting “Wait!” reach his ears.

He aims all around the kitchen just in case, and kicks an empty bottle across the floor to make noise so that anything in there will either be drawn to them (walkers) or will scurry away (rodents).

“Why didn’t you check the windows first?” she pants, pistol still ready, shouting, “Sophia?” He does likewise in case Sophia came back here and he’d simply missed her yesterday. He’s hoping that he simply missed her yesterday.

Y/N limps (?) around the bottom floor of the house, repeatedly calling her name along with, “If anyone’s here, we’re s-sorry if we scared you, we’re lookin’ for a little girl who’s missing!”

He jogs up the stairs and calls Sophia’s name more quietly, poking his head into the rooms.

No one and nothing answers.

He goes back downstairs.

“This is the place I found the can and the cot,” he lets Y/N know.

Pistol still out and aimed, her stance doesn’t relax as she blinks in confusion. “Hm?”

“Sit down, s’okay,” he tells them.

Soaked to the skin and covered in mud as they are, the two of them can at least catch their breath now.

Y/N looks beat, promptly grabs a chair, drops into it and starts rubbing their knee. That was new.

Their baseball cap is missing, too.

You

The drip-drip-drip of yours and Daryl’s clothes and the stiff, squidgy feeling of the wet clothes and sticky mud on your body is only propelling your agitation. And where’d your hat go?

First, Mama and Good Dog and the man you shot in the fucking head set up shop in your mind, then your fear of finding Sophia as a cold, muddy corpse decided to dance with you all afternoon. Now, how Dad got washed away and drowned is ping-ponging around your thoughts. Your heart aches. Your body hurts. Good Moses, it even hurts to breath at this point.

And you were in enough physical pain today before idiot you smacked your already-bruised knee on the way here because Dickhead Dixon over there decided to up and sprint to a place he already checked?

“Why are we here, Daryl? We sprinted,” in a thunderstorm, in a flood zone, in woods we don’t know, “all the way to this place? Not somewhere unsearched?”

But before he has a chance to answer, you feel the angry voice in your head get the better of you.

Why did you bring us here, you backwoods bastard? It’s a spot you already been to! How is this helping our girl? It’s been seventy-two hours by now, it’s-it’s too late! You stupid, stupid man!

“You just wasted valuable time, listen to the storm out there! We need to get back down to the road and find someplace to search around there before the flash flood risk gets higher!” you almost yell at him, the pain intensifying when you strain so.

“I wanted to come back here in case she was campin’ out and I just missed her,” he snarls back. “A kid would probably wanna stay out somewhere they felt safe.”

“Then why the hell would you bust in like that, guns blazing? Woulda scared that little girl half to death.”

“Because anybody else here would’ve been scared, too, but I would’ve had the upper hand.”

“Until they put a bullet or a knife in you in self-dembense—fuck, self-de-fense!” you correct, growing more frustrated and furious and feeling more and more helpless and sad by the minute. Goddamn prodrome shit is making you sound like as big of an idiot as you feel. You didn’t even hear whatever the abrasive redneck you’re stuck in here with threw back at you.

Then your mood turns on a dime, your throat tightens and your eyes start to burn. Yours hands immediately cover your face to conceal it while you calm down. Kettle off the burner, Y/N. Inhale. Exhale.

“You okay?” reaches your ears. “Not going postal or nothing, right?”

You nod, feeling the sharp, achy tug in your shoulder and neck when you do. Swallowing to make sure your voice sounds normal, you relax your hands back to your sides and open your eyes—then blink in confusion as to when it was exactly that you stood up?

“Nah, you’d know if I were going postal. But, um, sorry for losin’ my cool and yelling.”

“I asked if you were okay.”

“Overtired, how about you?”

“Quarter.”

Him

“I am overtired, ain’t a white lie,” they insist.

“You’re pretty busted up, too. You in a lot of pain?”

Y/N stares him down as if to challenge him, but there’s something about the look they have on that suggests they’re about to tease him. “No,” she states, that hidden grin starting to come out.

“Quarter.”

“No. You said quarters are for white lies.” Ah, there’s the smile. “Not outright ones.”

He finally looks up at them again but stops when he sees that their egg-stained white t-shirt is soaked. It might be dark and they have on an undershirt, but he can still see the outlight of everything.

But even when not looking, when they take their hand off that spot under their ribs, he can’t help but notice a new, red stain.

Shit.

“What’s wrong, Daryl?” They peek down. “Oh, look at that.” As if it were nothing, they turn around and lift their shirt to check. They sigh in relief. “Stitches ain’t popped, we’re good. I should slap a bandage on there, I reckon.”

This weird sensation of like guilt or whatever starts to kick him in the balls.

The first thing that pops into his head to do to make up for it is to offer them a drink from his water bottle. Then, he rummages through their backpack to hand them the first aid kit they kept in there. There’s also this, though:

“You got a jar of flour?”

“Oh, that’s for Beth, I found it at the thother—the other—house.”

Which one is Beth again? Oh, never mind, she’s ‘the teenage girl,’ right, right. “Messin’ up your words a lot today.”

They take a gulp of his water. “Pre-migraine phase, most likely.”

“You should make people sign a waiver when you head out with them,” he jokes. Not his brightest idea. Maybe he said it wrong?

It’s like he turned their power button off. Y/N gave no offended or angry comeback, no eye roll, no chuckle. She just got really still.

The imaginary knee kicks him in the balls again.

He’s back to not knowing what to do but wanting to do something because Y/N was his friend and shit. It pops into his head this time to ask them for the little walkie next so he can radio the camp in her stead, letting the group know that the two of them were fine.

“No Sophia yet,” he has to tell them.

Dale asks if Y/N is okay (“It’s unusual for you to communicate with the walkies, Daryl, that’s usually Y/N’s territory.”)(“I’m peachy, Mr. H! How are Carl and Teddy, both improvin’ still?” she calls, real bubbly about it, too.)

T-Dog and Andrea apparently went out, as did Rick and Y/N’s brother.

He crouches down beside her as Dale told her all this, holding the walkie between them. Y/N thought he was handing it to her and her fingertips brush his.

(“Daryl?”)

Oh, um, yes, yeah, they know it’s getting late, they’re gonna head back when the rains slow enough. (“Dale, can you use the police walkie for Shane and Rick? They’re usin’ that one, right? I’m just worried about them and the flood risk.”) (“They made it back maybe ten minutes ago, I’ll wave your brother over.”)

While they wait, Dale checks about their physical safety.

Yes, they’re safe inside a shelter. No, they aren’t in a flood zone anymore, so Y/N assures Shane when he interrupts Dale and specifically brings that up. Weird how that keeps getting mentioned.

“My shoulder’s doing pretty okay. Stitches good, still intact,” Y/N repeats to her brother. “I think I’m prodromin’, though, how angoying is that?” Not correcting their pronunciation mistake for the first time that day, they even add that awkward laugh people make when they don’t want to sound upset. “Least I got a warning that I’ll be a liability tomorrow or the day after.”

Stress on the “liability” part. Their eyes look wet and they seem sorta pissed. Daryl feels like he got kicked in the balls by the imaginary foot again. He’d implied she was a risk to bring along, hadn’t he?

“How ’bout you help with target practice tomorrow, then?” Shane’s voice crackles to Y/N back over the walkie.

Their face lit up in response. “Sounds good, so long as we can risk the ammo?”

“These people gotta learn how to shoot proper.”

When all was finished, she clicks off the walkie. He stands up from his crouched position and sits down across from her again. Lightning flickers outside.

“Okay?”

Then the thunder rumbles.

“Okay,” they respond, going back and forth from massaging their shoulder, to their neck, to their knee. “While we’re stuck, I think I’m gonna poke around, find me clean shirt. Hopefully find Carol a present.”

“I’ll, um, cook this up,” he says, gesturing to the sopping wet squirrel carcass on his belt. “Lemme show you what I found yesterday, first, though, tell me what you think?”

Wanting to know their opinion was one of the reasons he’d lead them back here.

“Yeah, of course.”

First, he takes them to the trash bin so they can see the can (and he notes her suppressed gag). She frowns and bites her lip.

He doesn’t like that.

Next, he shows her the little makeshift bed in the cupboard.

She frowns and bites her lip again.

He doesn’t like that either.

But yes, it’s still better to have Y/N there even when they start to bring up stuff that he hadn’t thought out. It’s much better, in fact. They’re honest. He’d wanted to know what they thought and they were telling him.

But like, he still gets angry about it, though.

“Mr. Morales taught the kids how to open cans without, but was there a manual can opener in one of the drawers when you checked?” is their first question.

And he thinks that’s a weird question. “Why’s that matter?”

Y/N moves to check the drawers, hesitating before explaining. “This is gonna slound sliy—fuck, ‘sound silly’—but with the other options of canned stuff here, that she’d go for sardines…” They trail off and seem to stifle a groan when they start to massage their neck again. “I get that sardines are in a pull-top can and are quicker, and when you’re ravenous you’ll eat anythin’—”

“Exactly.”

Okay, yes, it’s possible that he grated that back a little strong. And interrupted them. He’s just...this was a lead, had to be. There were no other damned signs of that little girl otherwise.

Not even a damned sign that she’d got killed and eaten, there’s been nothing. Why couldn’t Y/N just agree with him? They’re his friend!

He sees Y/N’s nostril do that twitch thing people do when they’re fixing to get mad but are trying not to.

“Sophia is a child, is all, and she kept things neat, too. And it, it ain’t that she’d be picky, but,” She swallows and sighs, tugging at the hair at the base of her neck. “Children and teenagers generally will avoid stuff like sardines. Hell, I avoid sardines, I ain’t British.” Yep, using humor to lessen the tension, as always.

They close the open cupboard and reach to check another drawer.

And the second drawer they open has a fucking can opener in it.

He hears them make a small curse under their breath before they whisper, “This took me seconds to find, man.”

Then they stare at the damned thing as if the can opener just told them it had terminal cancer. “I...I just imagine she would grab something like, like the can of cranberry sauce that’s right there in the pantry, and then go to the, the, um—” they can’t seem to figure out the word ‘drawer,’ so settle on “to this pully thing to get a fork or spoon, then she would’ve found the can opener.”

“Jesus—you wanna explain away the bed, then, too, Sherlock?” he snaps despite really, really not wanting to. And that’s coming after using that name that way even though he knows Y/N doesn’t like it. ‘It’s shitty to go around usin’ a deity as an expletive’ was something along the lines of how they’d phrased it.

And Y/N is trying not to snap like he did, to her credit. “When somebody’s scared, they sleep curled up, child or grown. And the pantry is on the bottom floor where the temp’s cooler and has a door.” The last part she stresses, still massaging herself. “No, please don’t you go getting mad at me, Daryl. You wanted to know my thoughts, and I ain’t done nothing but said a truthful thing, tell me I didn’t.” A deep breathe. “You’re my friend, you’re worth the honesty, so is Sophia.”

He took a deep breath like he’d seen her do and listens to the torrent of rain spattering on the house. ‘You’re worth the honesty’ threw him off. And how they repeated that they were friends.

Another flash of lightning outside, another thunderclap.

Okay. He understands what Y/N said about the clues. The ‘clues’ could be nothing, could’ve been from any person alone and hungry in this world-turned-to-shit.

The trail could be cold, just like Merle’s had turned cold.

He just doesn’t want to have fucking failed that little girl just like he failed his brother.

But since when was Y/N doubting that Sophia was alive, too? This wasn’t the time for no doubts, all those do are drag you down.

It’s hard enough to not want to give up these days, and that’s without a lost child or her heartbroken mother left alone. Especially when it’s what, not even a month after those two finally got free from that deadbeat shithead Ed?

Fuck, he’d hated that bastard. Who knows what that asshole did to his kid? Bad enough what he was doing to his woman.

So, maybe, as much as he’s trying not to lash out, he doesn’t sound too friendly or patient or like an adult when he throws back at his friend, “Still don’t mean nothin’!”

Instead of getting all angry like he’d just done (I’m sorry, Y/N…), all they say back in reply is, “Wanna grab more food while we’re stuck here, or leave it in case somebody else takes shelter here and needs it?” as they place the can opener on the counter in plain view before limping away.

The only sound becomes the rain outside hammering away at the roof and windows.

He eyes the dumbass can opener, storms over, throws it back into the drawer and kicks it shut.

Pissy little bitch Darylina.

Yeah, he gives himself a minute to cool off. Y/N seems to be doing the same.

Another bolt of lightning flashes outside, following closely by a loud boom of thunder. Storm’s closer now.

“Ah, the painkillers are kickin’ in,” he hears them sigh from their spot near a window.

Lightning flashes again, thunder at just about the same time.

He decides to join Y/N in the living room and stare out the window, too.

“M’sorry I blew up,” he mumbles.

“Friends fight,” comes out of their mouth almost immediately. They sound tired.

“Heard ya say the painkillers are kicking in?”

“Thanks be.”

More thunder. He must’ve missed the lightning.

“Ain’t gonna work out, us heading to the road today, is it?” they ask him, tone soft and defeated.

He just runs his hands through his hair and flops onto the couch. “It’s gonna get dark soon. Out in the dark’s no good, you know that.”

They’re still standing by the window. A bolt of lightning flashes. “Andrea mentioned she and you went out to search in the dark.”

Shit. “Y/N…”

“No leads, then?”

“If there were, we’d have followed ’em.”

“Alright,” she relents with a sigh. After a few moments of quiet, she offers, “I’ll get a fire going, you do your thing with that squirrel there.”

You

I’m so sorry, Sophia. You were so loved. You’re still so loved, I don’t mean to be writing you off as gone so soon, but…I’m so sorry we couldn’t find you in time, baby girl. Please be alive.

Please let her be alive. Let her end have been quick if she’s gone already. Or bring her back!

Or…I don’t know, either way please just help me find Carol a damn present.

Him

Y/N’s been staring into the flames for a while.

The squirrel meat’s cooked, he threw it onto a plate from the kitchen and left it on the coffee table then headed to a window.

He opened it up, stuck his hands out to rinse off, and is now enjoying a cigarette. Small favors this fucking storm is moving further away.

“Rain’s slowin’ down.”

“Yeah,” they hush. He sees as they perk up. “We should oughta go now, then, flash flood risk is—”

—A massive thunderclap interrupts so forcefully that the house shakes.

Oh, damn it, he dropped his smoke on the covered porch outside! Of course he was holding it out the window when a hulking fucker of a thunderclap shook the place.

Can he reach it, maybe? Oh, nah, it fell in a crack that was wet. Well, there goes that.

He quickly looks back at Y/N to find them wide-eyed, tensed-up, and breathing heavy. “That was scary. What do you think Sophia is…” She doesn’t finish her sentence, and turns back to the fire.

He’s thinking the same. How terrified must that kid be right now?

Then there’s that asshole part of himself that is thinking how after this bullshit storm they’re having, the chance of finding that little girl is gonna be that much more difficult and…and unlikely.

Screw that.

“So, remember how I said I got lost when I was a kid? When I found my cat?” he calls over.

After a few sniffs, she responds back, “Your cat Eyes?”

“Yep. So, I was wanderin’ around playing and shit. I didn’t want to be ho—um,” he pauses and pretends he sees something outside. Did he really almost tell her how he didn’t want to be home? More mopey bullshit he almost spilled, what the hell.

And like, come on, it’s nothing, it’s just that things had been pretty shit then. Ma had died and Dad was…who he was. And Merle had been dicking around so he wouldn’t have to be around their old man, which had landed him in juvie again.

Anyway, being away from home felt safer. Hurt less.

None of this Y/N has to know.

He begins to walk back to the fireplace and sees that they haven’t eaten any squirrel meat.

“And yeah, I dunno,” he continues his story, “I ended up goin’ deeper and deeper into the woods by my neighborhood. Got lost.”

“How long ’til you made it back?” Their expression warms slightly when they ask, “And when d’you find Eyes?”

He opens his mouth to tell her.

Closes it.

He just doesn’t want them to get, like, all emotional or whatever. “Don’t, um—it ain’t a big deal, okay?”

Her brows draw closer, just a little. “Maybe it kinda is if you have to tell me that,” she gently counters, her curious smile switching into a cautious sort of look.

Might as well out with it. He’d already basically blurted out how he’d hid under his bed a shit ton as a kid, she’s probably already drawn some kind of conclusion. “I found Eyes on day seven, I think?” Was it day seven or six? Maybe eight?

“How long, you said?” they question, voice casual.

“Was out there nine days by the time I made it back.” He glances over for a second to see their reaction, and to his relief, there isn’t much of one.

You

Tears forgotten and voice as level and as nonchalant as you can crack it, you wonder about the phrasing of that sentence. “By the time you made it back?”

He hums.

Does that mean he was out there and he ran into the search party, or that no search party was sent? He said nine days. Nine!

“Your mama and big brother must have sobbed so hard with relief when you came back in one piece,” you decide to respond, praying you won’t say the wrong thing or react in an unwelcome way or cause him grief.

“Nah, Ma wasn’t around then, she’d died.”

Oh my, it got worse. Oh my. Okay, keep your voice normal, Y/N, you know the drill. “How old were you?”

“It ain’t a big deal,” he repeats instead of telling you.

So, you try humoring him a little. “Ain’t never said it was.”

And it’s probably him compromising when he allows, “I was younger than Sophia is now.”

Okay.

He’s probably feeling very exposed right now, that’s a given. God knows you’ve had the hard blessing of living with and caring for a lot of kids like him; when stuff came up that kids (and grown-ups) from difficult situations didn’t like facing, they’d fight it.

So, because it isn’t anything immediately urgent as it sometimes was with your foster sibs, there’s zero reason for you to encourage, press, or pry at this moment. But because completely changing the topic isn’t the best course of action, either, you try to direct it away from the painful part.

“You mentioned you’re from northern Georgia, right? We talking by Gainesville or far up like Dalton or Clayton?”

“In between, I guess.”

In between those are a whole lot of trees and not too much else. “Ellijay? Helen?”

“You got a map out or somethin’?” he snorts. He appears more comfortable now, which is good.

But shit, nine days lost in the woods? Whoever was meant to be his caregiver dropped the ball so hard it cracked the mother-fucking pavement—ohh, great and here goes you getting all huffy. Good Moses, you can feel your blood pressure going up!

You know, you know, you should be used to this kind of thing, but every time it still hurts to acknowledge that people can abuse or neglect kids. Sometimes, you swear, people don’t care about young humans half as much as they care about dogs.

Daryl could’ve been one of yours just as easily as Sophia could have.

All you want to know is where the fuck was this guy’s dad was—where was Merle, for that matter?—or, you don’t know, an auntie or grandma or whoever was supposed to be taking care of your poor mangy hick and didn’t notice he was gone for over a w—

“—Anyways, I told you that so you’d get it into your head that that little girl could still be fine,” your poor mangy hick’s voice interrupts.

Just a sec, did you just think of him as ‘your’ mangy hick? Twice? That isn’t gonna be your term of endearment for your new friend, right? Sure you’ve had that in your head since the day your group left the quarry, but it’s kinda rude. Plus, he’s not a child, he’s like six and a half years older than you.

Anyway, your curiosity gets the better of you. “What’d you do for food when you were out there?” you ask your poor mangy hick.

“Berries mostly. Wild onion, too,” he grunts back, picking up his food-knife (separate from his walker-knife) and taking a big bite of squirrel meat off it. “I overheard you doin’ a lesson with ’em about edible plants once.” He says this as if it means Sophia would know all the plants off the top of her head now.

More thunder interrupts, and thankfully it doesn’t shake the house like the last one did. And yet, your hope gets washed away with the rain and leaves dread in its place.

“But only one lesson, Daryl,” you begin to panic, efficiently tumbling down into worst-case scenario thoughts as the memory of her crying out in terror that day on the car-packed highway floods your mind. “We only went over poison sumac versus edible, poke versus elderberry, and, um, w-wild carrot versus hemlock.” Calm down, calm down...

His shrug might have come across as rude if he wasn’t staring so intently into your eyes. “Sophia’s smart, said so yourself.” With a shake of the plate, he seems to be encouraging you to eat some of the meat.

“Smart only gets you so far when th-there are dead people who chase and eat us,” you falter, pulse rising.

“Y/N, c’mon, zen,” he says, but not in the way he’s been speaking. The gentleness in it catches you off guard.

Plate put aside, he holds up nine fingers. “Nine days. That was me.” Then he points to himself, then toward the window. “Sophia’s on day three. She’s got the creek as her landmark and water source, and there are plenty of farmhouses she could be crashing in. Don’t go gettin’ your panties in a bunch just yet.”

As well-intentioned as the first half might have been, that last part gets you snapping, “Bitch, don’t patronize me or my panties,” as tears (not now, idiot!) pool in your eyes and threaten to slip down. Feeling weak and stupid and useless and helpless, you promptly turn your head and tuck your lips in, determined to cry too obviously and give credence to Daryl’s (*cough* sexist) choice of phrase.

His apology comes out annoyed, but one comes out nonetheless. Plus, he follows it up with, “I didn’t mean it like that…”

Then another rude-ass, mother-fucking, loudmouth thunderclap booms through the air and all you can do is whimper, “Oh, baby girl, I’m so sorry,” as you close your eyes and pray (scream inwardly) again and sink onto the couch.

Him

Y/N is quick to apologize for calling him ‘bitch,’ as if it were a big deal.

“I’m sorry, you don’t like being called that especially and here I go sayin’ it. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t sweat it, we all say shit we don’t mean.”

He takes another bite of squirrel, thinking how he’s gonna have to pilfer around for some hot sauce to help choke stuff like this down. After another two bites, he tosses the rest back onto the plate and sits down on the opposite end of the couch where Y/N is. He doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable. More uncomfortable, that is.

The rain sounds like it’s slowing down.

There’s still a stack of magazines from when she got the fire going. He grabs one, rips out a page. Crumples it. Pelts it into the fire.

Rips another. Crumples it. Pelts it into the fire.

Rips a third. Crumples it. Looks at Y/N. Nods his head toward the magazine.

Glancing back, they mutter, “That’s a good idea.”

He puts the magazine on the middle cushion between him and them before pelting his third paper ball as hard as he—fuck, it hits the glass fireplace door and lands on the floor.

It’s Y/N’s usual delicate teasing when they hint, “That’s how I felt when you chucked that rubber band ball too hard and I didn’t catch it.”

That happened back at the CDC. Fucking cosmic-level crazy day. And that black lady, uh, Jacqui, right? She was decent. Liked root beer as much as he does, so he found out while there. Too bad she chose to check out with that scientist bastard.

More thunder outside brings him back to the present. Based on the sounds of it, the storm’s finally moved its ass away.

Y/N’s attempt at tossing their paper ball ticks the bottom grate first but still flops into the fire.

He rounds up a fourth ball of his own, throws it—hell yes—and sends it straight into the flames.

“Ow,” Y/N hisses, dropping her second one. “Tried to throw with my bum arm.”

He figures he’ll do some teasing of his own. “Idiot.”

As expected, they bug him back. “Mangy hick,” they snark, and lightly toss the paper ball at his head.

He’s about to inquire why that, um…kinda weird nickname instead of ‘bitch,’ but she speaks up.

“Daryl?”

When they don’t say anything for several seconds, he looks over. Their chest is rising and falling slowly and controlled. Then he realizes he’s staring at their chest and turns away.

“We tell Carol we found somethin’, yes or no?” she finally speaks. “I don’t think we should, but do you think she'll need that?”

“Nah, we ain’t lying to her.”

“W-we can tell her about the old couple’s house.”

“We can.”

“And we can find her a present.”

A gift? Trying not to sound like a dick, he wonders, “What the hell kinda present?”

“I dunno, dude, I’ll look around.” Y/N massages their temple for a moment. “She likes modern art,” they trail off.

“So ya wanna bring her back a painting or some shit?”

She shrugs her good shoulder and closes her eyes. “Daryl, what sorts of signs might could there still be tomorrow of our girl?”

His answer is coming out before they’re even done asking. “Plenty. The wet ground will help us see way better, if she’s out in it leaving tracks. Just don’t—” What is he trying to say? “Don’t write her off just yet is all I’m askin’. From you of all people,” he adds, really not liking how…naked he felt in saying that.

Partway through making another paper ball, the crinkling noise slowly stops as Y/N pauses. She licks her lips, then tells him “It’s not me writing her off. That ain’t never gonna happen, she’s just a child. And I love her, it’s j-just me tryin’ not to be blind about her situation. It’s been seventy-two hours, man.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

He feels her turn to look at him for a moment. When he starts to return her gaze, she’s already standing up. Her voice comes out low and rough. “Stats say we’re most likely gonna find a body now.”

Um…wasn’t expecting that. How is he supposed to react? And who cares about some statistics bullshit?

Luckily, another damn thunderclap interrupts and helps him take a figurative step back before he gets pissed again.

So, he knows, alright?

These past three days, he’s known how slim it’s been getting. He isn’t stupid.

But it still doesn’t mean the worst. There are plenty of places for her to hole up and keep safe, fed.

Sophia’s surprisingly good at throwing punches, too, from what that little lesson Y/N was giving the kids that time showed. That means she can defend herself, at least somewhat.

Well, Y/N’s gotten up and is searching this dump to find useful stuff. And a present for Carol, for what good that’ll do.

Well, he’s gonna take this as another opportunity to have a smoke. And not drop it out a window this time.

You

A jug of cooking oil and a jug of bleach. Neither are for Carol, but both will benefit your group and the Greenes (and whatever Patricia and Jimmy’s last name is).

You think you took too many ibuprofen, your ears are ringing and you’re feeling kinda nauseated. Another idiotic thing you did, overdoing it on pain management so you could pretend you weren’t the liability you are for going out.

It was hard enough getting the fresh shirt on without resorting to asking Daryl to help pull it off (hell no), but you managed to get a clean, unstained one on yourself along with a pair of all-cotton jeans, one size too small but the cotton will loosen up, right?

“Ain’t that top kinda warm?”

“It’s comfy. Don’t you go snippin’ the sneeves—sleeves—off my new button down, hear?” you try to joke, eyeing his own cut-off shirt. Every sleeved shirt that man had had with him he ended up ripping the sleeves off. It was one of the first thing you and Amy noticed. She did enjoy peeking at his arms.

“You good?”

“I’m good. You good? You look tired.”

“Same to you. Ready to head back?” he puts to you, already shouldering his crossbow and—oh, shouldering your backpack as well. He also grabs the jug of cooking oil.

Okay, Carol really called it. There is a good man hiding underneath all that anger.

Him

“Yeah, the flood risk only gets higher the longer we wait,” they reply under their breath, dark circles under their eyes more noticeable in the light. She notices her bookbag on his shoulder but doesn’t protest. Then she picks up the gallon of bleach with her uninjured side and follows him on his way out the door.

“What’s with y’all and flash floods, anyways?” he’s curious to know.

Their brows go up just a little as they heft the jug, but their response nearly causes him to drop the one he’s holding. “Dad drowned in one.”

Shit, they serious?

They sound almost amused. “Oh, Dary-bear, are you freezin’ up? Relax, you’re fine. People die.”

“My bad,” is the only response that comes into his head.

“Make it up to me by lettin’ me carry my backpack?

He doesn’t think that’s a good…fine, he gives it back—but he takes the jug of bleach from their hand first. He just doesn’t want her to hurt too bad later. He can carry the cooking oil and the bleach, she can be the spotter, and he’ll just drop a jug if he has to aim his crossbow. Easy. “How old were ya when that happened? To your dad?”

With a pointed glance, she repeats the same reply he gave her earlier. “Younger than Sophia is now.” She adjusts the bookbag. “Maybe we can both share when we have that beer at some point.”

You

The skies are darkening and the birds are starting to leave their nests to get worms since the rain has finally slowed to a light drizzle. The air smells nice.

Dead tired, you’re already ready to ask for a break and you two only have a quarter of a mile from the farm, so Daryl estimates.

You two pass a big cinder-brick farmhouse-looking thing. He already checked the inside yesterday (“It’s stripped bare, Y/N.”), but the two of you pop in for one final sweep. ‘Stripped bare’ is the perfect description for it. After maybe five minutes of calling Sophia’s name and looking under and inside possible hiding places, it’s time to leave.

You trudge outside. And as you’re daydreaming about leaning against that tree while you try to wrangle enough willpower to make the walk back, he checks out of the blue, “Hey, you find that present for Carol like you were after?”

“Other than the red shirt from the highway and an unopened box of peach tea, no. Why?”

He’s staring at something. “She like flowers?”

“Very much.” She’d had the kids pick wildflowers more than a few times back at the quarry. And that Daryl is offering is something.

He bends down toward a scraggly wild shrub and picks—oh, it’s one of those? Those are the official state flower. They smell kinda like Christmastime.

“Ready to head back?” Daryl asks, holding just the single bloom.

“I guess.” You nod at the flower, intrigued and a little confused. “Why only the one? There are two.”

“I think it’s a sign,” he says quietly without looking at you. His gaze is fixed on the flower.

Your gaze is fixed on him. It’s—it’s weird to think, but you don’t want to look away. He whole appearance is unlike his usual self—he seems shy. He looks gentle. “What do you mean?”

“You know the story behind the Cherokee Roses, right?”

Of course, you were Georgia born and raised just like he was. “Yeah, that the, um, the Cherokee prayed for a sign of hope for the future, and those sprung up wherever they cried for their lost ones.”

“On the Trail of Tears,” he reminds you, still staring at the petals and delicately running his finger along the tips of them as if lost in thought. “All those people were dyin’, the kids especially. After the elders prayed for that sign to keep hope, every time a mother’s tears touched the ground for her children, one of these bloomed.” And it’s almost too soft the way he mumbles to himself “These bloomed for Sophia,” that you nearly didn’t hear it.

Your stomach does a flip. Your cheeks get all warm. You’re just about ready to start crying again, to be honest. Also, you get slightly turned on for a sec, but that’s neither here nor there—and you pay no mind. You’re overtired.

Carol called it. There’s a very good man hiding under all that anger.

“Y/N, you good?”

“I-I’m great, um—tell Carol that story when you give it to her. Okay? Daryl, it’s perfect.”

The flower in his shirt pocket, he doesn’t reply, he just picks up the jugs again and makes a half-grunt while inclining his head toward the farm.

“It’s perfect,” you repeat, but still are given no semblance of a reply as you both continue walking the final stretch back. You get the urge to bug him. “Since when do you get shy, mangy hick?”

The trudge back grows quiet.

Him

They hadn’t called him ‘mangy hick’ in a while. He even kinda liked it. It didn’t sound like an insult when they said it, probably because it wasn’t. If Y/N was mad at somebody, their mouth would run, sure, but without fail they would then apologize for that shit and mean it.

“We’re almost back,” he lets them know.

“Good. Because really, man, what you told me about that flower will mean a lot, like, a whole lot to Carol. She needs that right now.”

He doesn’t know how to respond to this. It’s a flower, big deal. “Yeah.”

“How is it that you,” she sighs, “got to save the day two days ago, now you’re savin’ the day again?”

Not this again. I remembered leftover pills two days ago, Y/N, and today I picked a flower. How are you gonna swing this as meaning anything? “Pickin’ a flower is saving the day?”

She doesn’t even hesitate. “Today, for that woman, might could be.”

The two of them finally make it to one of the farm’s fields.

He doesn’t get it. “Tracking down her daughter might could’ve been better.”

A slight huff. “We’re working with what we got, Daryl, take the compliment. Carol needs comfort. Life’s beaten her down enough,” she mutters under her breath. Then she speaks clearly and almost as if she’s scolding him. “And now life has taken her daughter, at least for a few days. Carol needs comfort right now, and you found somethin’ deep and real to comfort her with.”

Before he can grumble or make any kind of lame reply such as “Picking a goddamn flower ain’t saving nobody,” a figure in the distance shows up from around a hay pile. He drops the jug of cooking oil and aims his crossbow within a second.

Oh, it’s just T-Dog. Does he look happy, did they bring back Sophia? He turns his head toward Y/N, who looks back at him and shares that same hopeful expression for just a moment until she waves and appears to be about to shout over to him. But she hesitates.

“You realize Carol ain’t gonna hate you that we didn’t find her girl yet? The one she—well, the person she hates right now, it’s herself. That’s why we need to remind her we don’t agree, okay? Especially comin’ from somebody as,” a slight pause, “as independent as you. That’s why you have to do it.”

There’s no time to process this idea or grate back anything he’d probably regret and kick himself in the balls for before Y/N finally does shout, “Teddy! I hope you and Andrea made it back before that free shower from Mother Nature!”

“It washed off the sweat, I’ll give it that.” T-Dog calls back, his voice sounding…disappointed. “Y’all find any leads?”

That answers why he sounds disappointed. No Sophia. Again. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, son-of-a-bitch, fuck!

“There weren’t signs of her back at the little shelter y’all made at the highway, either?” Y/N falters.

“We’ve got a new road to check out tomorrow,” Daryl cuts in, and states it loudly and as confidently as he can scrape up for both Y/N and T-Dog. “I don’t think that area was checked yet, right?” he adds with a toss of his head toward the east.

“Nah, Andrea and me did a sweep of the woods in that direction,” T-Dog gestures to the far end of the farm, then to another. “Shane and Rick searched that way. And y’all did that direction.”

“They find any signs?” he presses, knowing he sounds desperate.

T-Dog shakes his head.

After this, he reaches his hand down for one of the jugs Daryl is holding. Daryl hands it over without a word and without looking at him. He’s only finally let himself believe that Y/N was actually his friend, he isn’t gonna start assuming everybody will want to. That he thought T-Dog was a decent dude didn’t mean it was mutual.

“Teddy, how’s my Carl?” Y/N checks sadly.

“Still doing great. Little man’s itching to get out of bed already.”

“He ask about Sophia all day?”

“His parents told him.”

She coughs. “What? How did, h-how did he take it?”

“Good. He took it real good.”

“I gotta go see him—wait, I forgot to ask about you! You gonden dinzy—ahem, gotten dizzy spells at all? Are your stitches still clean and—ohh, how’s your stomach, those antibiotics can wreck—”

“—Okay, we good, slow down. To answer, my arm’s fine, and Glenn gave me the probiotics you put on the drug store list.”

“Glenn got back okay? Margaret, too?”

“Both good as far as I know. But to be honest about my stomach, yeah, it only been a day and a half on them antibiotics and that shit’s messed up,” he cracks to try and break the tension.

“Literally, huh?” she deadpans back at him, causing him to make a genuine laugh. Daryl gets the feeling he should smile or something, but he feels too out of place as T-Dog and Y/N have their conversation.

“Hey, Lori was looking for you, Y/N. Glenn, too.”

“Okay, I’ll go find them after checkin’ on my Carl. Oh, and I’ll try to find a vase for you, okay, Daryl?” she adds, taking off at a faster pace that Daryl didn’t realized she still had in her.

T-Dog slows down and nudges his arm, then nods over at Y/N. “They okay? No sling on today.”

“They overdid it.”

“You both look bone-tired.” He chuckles. “I’m guessing they was the one who wanted to bring these back with y’all, right?” he guesses, holding up the jug and grinning.

“Mmhm.”

“Was that flower you got there what she meant about the ‘vase?’ Not many Cherokee Roses this time of year. That’s what that is, right?”

“Ain’t nothin’,” comes out of his mouth before he can rethink it and not act like some asshole white-trash redneck.

T-Dog slows for a second, then rolls his eyes and shrugs. “A’ight, brother, I’ll leave you to it.” He maintains his distance from Daryl after that and walks along at his own faster pace.

No wonder no one fucking wants you around or is gonna. And throw out the damned flower, who the hell will care? You failed again at doing the only thing you’re supposed to be good at.

And he almost does throw the damn thing out. But…Y/N would be upset, for one. But more than that, the thing she said about it being something Carol needed right now? That much is plain, the poor woman does need some kind of something to keep her going.

And those two flowers, they fucking did bloom for Sophia. Two single blooms, one for every night she’d been missing and her mother cried for her. There’ll be one more in it’s place tomorrow, try and tell him there won’t be.

When he sees Y/N across the field slow to a stop and lean over to catch her breath and forgets about the goddamn flower-drama in his head.

Y/N thought it was obvious. Carol needed a present, something to give her comfort. In their opinion, Daryl finding that flower was “perfect” for Carol, and was “saving the day again.” They said it without a lick of sarcasm, too. Then, when he turned into pissy Darylina and tossed it back in her face anyway and told her she was wrong, she didn’t even blink.

“Today, for that woman, it might could be,” she told him. “Life’s beaten her down enough, and now life has taken her daughter.” Then came the part where she seemed disappointed in him. The imaginary knee kicked his balls again. “Carol needs comfort right now, and you found somethin’ deep and real to comfort her with.”

He can’t chicken out. That woman—Carol—if there’s a chance she’ll get some kinda comfort out of this, it’s worth him feeling stupid and unwelcome or blamed.

Hot damn. What would Merle say if he could stare into his thoughts and read this shit, right?

You

You’d meant to go to Carl, but Maggie found you first. Wanted to talk.

You wish you’d waited to talk to her until after seeing Carl. And Lori and Glenn, or maybe after a good night’s sleep, like, what the fuck, Glenn? Never mind whatever was going on in Margaret’s mind, but as for Glenn: did he even think before getting himself into this?

Shoot—the pun wasn’t intended, it wasn’t, but really! What the hell were they thinking?

Maggie and Glenn had sex?

__________________________________

Taglist (inbox is open if you want in)

@spenciepoo338

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xjulixred45x · 2 years

Text

Eli Shane/Junjie X Dance Reader

Type: Headcanons

Reader: neutral

Warnings: none.

Eli Shane

You had joined Shane's gang some time ago because of your dueling skills and experience, someone helpful and very experienced.

It had caught his attention ever since, you were always nice to him and taught him several useful moves that would come in handy later on when his planes got out of hand (I mean almost always) for which he was very grateful to you.

Eventually when they invited a relationship you were more open about your hobbies outside of slug duels, one of which was that you told him that several of your moves were based on dances you saw traveling through the other caves and he was very interested.

The seed of curiosity was planted in his brain and quickly took root in a good way, he wanted to learn more about it and asked you several times to show him those dances.

When he finally saw it it was as if he had been hypnotized, he stared for several minutes (you swore you didn't see him blink).

After a while you confuse that as you're boring him and you stop, he jumps up from his spot and tells you that it wasn't that, he just had never seen anything like it and he was stunned.

After that, when they are alone in the place, they do some little dances together, although, I warn you, it takes a lot of practice.

Junjie

Most likely, he met you after his return to the Eastern Caverns and the final defeat of the Emperor.

The above had been celebrated for quite some time, so dances both new and traditional were something to be expected.

But the dance you did with a couple of friends especially caught his attention.

It was a fairly old and unknown dance for the vast majority of viewers, he recognized it as an ancient traditional dance of warriors that was done before the arrival of the emperor, the grace and strength that was needed to do it was abysmal, but you did it like a second nature.

He was super focused on not missing anything, when it was all over Jamenku(I don't know if I spelled it right) brought him back to reality joking that he should ask you for an autograph or at least congratulate you on your performance.

When the vast majority of people left he decided to take the first step, he did not have any experience in the social field beyond his peers and what he had learned from Eli and the others, but he definitely wanted to explore this interest for you.

You were someone very cultured in the Old Cavern traditions, apart from being very talkative about it, you talked and talked passionately about it and he just listened happily.

He was even able to notice that there were some Slug-Fu based moves in the dances, which only made him more interested in it and you.

Other than that it was a nice plus point that you didn't seem to resent him for being the Darle Slinger that helped him get to confession, but you didn't hear that from me.

By the time they're a couple, that doesn't change much, he goes to your performances and gets "stunned" while you dance.

You have tried to ask him to dance several times, but the vast majority of times he ends up doing martial arts movements, but he does not do badly.

#slugterra #eli shane #junjie #neutral reader #headcanons

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fullcollectivecloud · 1 year

Text

"Guts"

Survival Camp

An older man stands on the roof of his R.V. He’s wearing a hat against the heat and a rifle slung over his shoulder; a pair of binoculars is in his left hand. He stands guard surrounded by wilderness but just over on the horizon the tops of Atlanta’s skyscrapers can be seen. The roof has been set up with a couple of camp chairs, an umbrella and a cooler. Just past the R.V. on the other side of the hill is an abandoned rock quarry.The camp is busy with people. One man carries a water jug, another plays a solitary card game. Amy and Bow, who just got back from mushroom picking in the woods, walk through the camp carrying a red bucket past Jim and a woman whose hanging laundry. The two women bring the mushrooms to a campfire where Lori is busy cooking. Lori looks up at Amy, and Bow "Any luck?" asked Lori.”Yea we found some mushrooms growing around the area” Bow answers Lori, Amy who is inspecting the mushrooms looks up and asks "How do we tell if they're poisoned?" Bow grabs the mushroom out of Amy's hand and explains, "These are good, They are called Cantharellus cibarius."

" huh?" questioned Amy and Lori simultaneously. Bow chuckled "Golden Chanterelle mushrooms, we can eat them there is no danger," She says with a smile and shakes her head. “ How do you know that?” asked Amy to Bow, “ I was a vegetarian at one point so it didn't hurt to know what I was eating.” She laughed. “Wow that's-thank you I thought I was going to have to ask Shane for a moment.” said Lori as she got up and headed back to camp with the bucket of mushrooms, Bow and Amy following soon after “Carol, I'm heading out. Sweetheart, I want you to stay where Dale can see you, okay?” said Lori. “ Yes mom,” the young boy replied. The older gentleman known as Dale tells Lori from atop his RV “You too. Don't wander too far. Stay within shouting distance. And if you see anything, holler. I'll come running.” “ Yes mom,” Lori said with an eye roll and a chuckle. She goes into the woods to go collect more food for the camp. Not a moment later Bow walks up to the RV and asks Dale “Hey Dale, have you seen Lori anywhere? She has the bucket of mushrooms and I was gonna go clean them for us.” “Huh oh! She went into the woods to go collect more food, I believe she went that way” He replies as he points in the direction Lori went. Bow turns her head in the direction Dale is pointing “ Ok thank you Dale” she says as she walks that way with the wave of her hand. As she gets closer she can hear the rustling of leaves, she tilts her head in confusion, and she walks closer while still being hidden in the shrubbery. As she peaks her head out she can see Lori and Shane in a heated moment. She quickly makes herself scarce by keeping her head down. As she gets back to camp Dale asks her “ Did you find her?” “yeah she’s fine” Bow answers quickly back. Bow makes her way to her tent which just so happens to be next to the Dixon brothers, everyone thought Bow was crazy for wanting to be anywhere near the two rednecks but Bow was quick to bond with the boys since mama dixon herself was mutant. As Bow got closer to her tent she can see Daryl preparing for a hunt. “Hey you heading out?” she asked, Daryl looks up at her “Yea gon see what I can catch me a buck or somethin’ mushrooms, berries and nuts can only do so much” He throws his crossbow strap over his shoulder. Bow crosses her arms over her chest “Okay but be careful I have a funny feeling in my gut.” Daryl walks over to her and steps right in front of her, “m’always careful Bowie ya know that.” “Yea but still-” “If it makes ya feel any better ya can watch over me while m’gone with that weird eye thang of yours” Bow laughs “it’s not a weird eye thing it’s-“ Bow glances at Daryl he too has a look of amusement on his face “mmhm whatever you say Bowie” with that Daryl walked away to get to hunting.

In Atlanta

Glenn has just helped Rick get out of the tank alive. He runs down the street, firing at any Walker in his way, killing 8 of them. He comes across the man who's been talking to him.” Whoa! Not dead! Come on! Come on! Back here! Come on! Come on” Glenn said as he put his hands up showing no danger. The two proceed to run down the alley and start climbing up a ladder.”What are you doing?! Come on!” Glenn shouts as he proceeds to climb up the ladder Rick follows right after climbing up the ladder. Both pants. “Nice moves there, Clint Eastwood. You, the new sheriff, come riding in to clean up the town?” Glenn says that he hopes that Rick would do the same for him one day. “It wasn't my intention,” Rick says. “Yeah, whatever. Yeehaw. You're still a dumbass.” Glenn says “ Rick. Thanks.” Rick replies “ Glenn. You're welcome. Oh no” Glenn says as he sees a whole herd of Walker going to the ladder, “ The bright side: It'll be the fall that kills us. I'm a glass-half-full kind of guy.” The two climb up the ladder that leads to the top of a store that Glenn is camping out at. There he meets a group of people and they try to plan an escape in Atlanta.

The quarry

Bow and the rest of the group were going about their day in the quarry, Lori was giving Carl a haircut, Shane was watching them, Amy was waiting by the radio anxious to hear anything, and Bow was sitting on top of the RV cross legged with Dale, he was on lookout and Bow was meditating trying to strengthen the barrier around the camp. Once that’s done she decides to check up on Daryl he’s been out hunting for a while now. Bow focuses her energy on Daryl, trees are fast passing, it’s like looking through a kaleidoscope, Bow sees Daryl now, he’s completely still crossbow trained on whatever game he has in his sights. “Daryl, can you hear me,” asks Bow, Daryl’s body slightly jostles “Bowie, what ya tryin’ to do give me a heart attack. Ya know better than to do this without warning while m’ hunting” Daryl replies in his head his lips not moving at all. Bow laughs “Sorry Daryl I was checking on you, you get anything good?” Daryl shifts his position a small bit “Yea m’ trackin a big ol buck right now if I can get this well eat some good ol venison tonight” “Well I’ll leave you to it then oh mighty hunter” “Wait Bowie, is there any way you can check on my brother? See if he’s okay?” Daryl asks shyly. Bow lets out a sigh “I’ve tried already Dar I’m sorry but he’s either too far out or he won’t let me in. Daryl’s eyes close as he sighs “Alright, thanks anyway Bowie m’ sure he’s fine, now go away I need ta focus women” Bow exit’s Daryl mind. Bow is now back with the rest of the group, She sees Shane and Amy messing with the radio, and she climbs down from the RV to join them “What’s going on?” She asks. Amy looks to Bow “We heard T-dog on the radio there stuck on top of the department store in Atlanta, we have to send help” Amy answers. Shane shakes his head “ No way. We do not go after them. We do not risk the rest of the group. Y'all know that.” Amy turns her head to him in shock “So we're just gonna leave her there?” Shane answers Amy “Look, Amy, I know that this is not easy-” Amy interrupts him “She volunteered to go to help the rest of us.” “I know, and she knew the risks, right? See, if she's trapped, she's gone. So we just have to deal with that. There's nothing we can do.” Amy shakes her head in disbelief “Bow can’t you try and contact her or something?” Bow looks at amy with sad eyes “I’ve tried already, they are too far out, the only way I could possibly do it is if I take down our barrier so I can focus all my energy on them” “Then it’s a definite no” Shane insist Amy turns to him “What how can you-” Amy starts but can’t finish as Shane shakes his head “We are not leaving this camp unprotected, your sister made her choice you gotta deal with it” “Come on now Shane at least let Bow try she’s our best bet for-” Dale tries to interject but he was shut down pretty quickly by Shane “I said no and that’s that. Amy scoffs “She's my sister, you son of a bitch.” She then walks off. “Amy” Lori follows after her. Bow looks to Shane “I’m sorry when did you control how I use my powers?” She asked Shane locks eyes with her “it’s too dangerous for the group so drop it” Shane doesn’t let Bow reply by walking away. Bow scoffs she hates it when someone tells her what to do with her powers. But there was little she could do anyway even mutants have their limits, Bow decided to be useful and went to help Carol gather the cloths that still needed cleaning.

#daryl dixon #twd fanfiction #daryl x reader #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead #season 1 #the archer and his bow #daryl dixon x oc #daryl dixon fanfiction

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izzyspussy · 2 years

Text

Jack's Queer Themes Fic Masterlist

happy Pride, here is a collection of my fanfiction that is About Being Gay TM

the real god uses tricks IT movies. Eddie's sexuality (gay) & comphet as an implicit theme. Rated M.

Eddie wakes up in bed with his wife. He gets a call from Mike Hanlon, he goes to Derry, he dies. And then he wakes up in bed with his wife.

the whole being dead thing BFU. Shane's sexuality (bi) & comphet as an implicit theme. Rated T.

"Your name is Beetlejuice?" Shane mumbles. "It's my middle name," Beetlejuice explains, dismissively. "My first name's Ryan, but no one ever used it so it fell into disrepair." Disrepair? Shane feels his mouth shape the word in a silent repeat, confused. But there's a lot else going on right now and it's all confusing, so he puts it out of his mind. He'll come back to it later if he ever gets a moment to rest in peace.

gold rush IT. Eddie's and Richie's sexualities (both gay) & comphet as both implicit theme and directly addressed. Rated E.

By fate during their amnesia, Richie and Eddie end up out of town in the same town. Seeing Richie across the bar, Eddie decides that right here right now is the best time to have his midlife crisis. And obviously the first step in becoming the opposite of the man he's been until now is going back to the hotel with Richie.

(Your Love) Thawed Out IT. Richie's sexuality (gay) & comphet, directly addressed. Rated E.

They're probably going to get murdered by a fucking clown demon tomorrow, so Richie and Eddie celebrate their last few hours on earth by having the best sex of Richie's life. It doesn't seem to matter very much to Richie's mind, body, or soul that he's supposed to be straight.

Break Out Performance BFU. Sara's, Shane's, and Ryan's sexualities (all bi) & comphet, directly addressed. Rated E.

Sara remembers exactly what it feels like to be desperately in love with her best friend and to not realize it until too late. She's not going to let her boyfriends go through that.

Green Light, Go BFU. Shane's sexuality (bi), directly addressed. Rated M.

It's less momentous, figuring out that he's into men too, than Shane would have expected if he'd ever thought it could happen to him. It's no revelation or epiphany. It's just Ryan.

safe (to love, to live) ATLA. Ty Lee's, Mai's, and Zuko's sexualities (various flavors of aroace), directly addressed. Rated G.

Ty Lee has a "crush" on Zuko because Zuko is safe to have a crush on because he's taken. Except the longer she maintains it the realer it gets.

Pinned Up MCU. Thor's sexuality (undefined) & comphet as an implicit theme. Rated G.

Everyone thinks Loki is the studious one, but Thor is the first to hang a poster in their room and it's an illustration from a history book.

Poem of Ecstasy Good Omens. Crowley's sexuality (demi), directly addressed. Rated M.

Sex never seems that interesting until Crowley hears the orchestral version.

Cilice It To Say Good Omens. Crowley's sexuality (demi), directly addressed. Rated E.

Crowley has a kink. (The kink is Aziraphale.)

Purple Circle MCU. Various characters' genders and sexualities, Loki-centric (intersex, genderfluid, pansexual), directly addressed. Rated T.

The Avengers have a float in the NYC Pride Parade.

Berkano MCU. Loki's gender (genderfluid), directly addressed. Rated G.

Thor is very upset that only women can be Valkyrior. It doesn't really bother Loki.

liberation starts within the mind Shameless (US). Mickey's sexuality (gay), directly addressed. Rated T.

Mickey's daemon hasn't settled, but they can fake that just like they can fake everything else about them. (If only it weren't for Ian.)

and this untitled series of unconnected drabbles about being aroace, featuring Bruce Wayne, Bucky Barnes, Jessica Rabbit, Yuuko Nishigori, Linc Burrows, and Ed Elric.

#jack facts #my fic

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trico-cottage · 3 years

Text

❀Ghost In Action -BFU Shane x Reader x Ryan (Platonic)-

Pairing: Ryan Bergara x reader (Platonic) Shane Medej x reader (Platonic)

Gn!reader

Warnings: Language, slight innuendo

Word Count: 1,491

"Back to where it all began" Ryan announced to the camera. I stifled a laugh and followed him as he did a dramatic slow walk towards the house. Shane just gave the camera a look and picked up his bag while shaking his head and walking ahead of us.

"We came here as boys, now we return as men.. and woman." Shane added, receiving a look from me as he glanced back at us.

"I'm glad to be back. How's it feel being your first time here Y/N?" Ryan asks, turning to me as I gaze up at the mansion.

"Gotta be honest, not looking very haunted from out here. In fact, it's really just beautiful." I say, turning to face the boys. Shane chuckles and nods. "Yeah, it wasn't very haunted last time we visited, on account of the fact that ghosts aren't real." He adds pointedly.

Ryan rolls his eyes at the tall man and picks up the sleeping bag he had dropped at his feet. Shane and I follow suit and the three of us walk through the doors of the mansion for a dramatic shot.

We all leave our belongings in a room and gather in the living room where the crew is setting up. I pull up a chair while Ryan rustles through his script papers.

After getting the mics and cameras set up, Ryan begins his reading for the history of the house. It was only 3pm, so we had plenty of time to get the narration done before we went hunting for the footage. "This week for the season premier on Buzzfeed Unsolved, we reinvestigate the Winchester Mystery House in San Jose, California, as a part of our ongoing investigation into the question, are ghosts real?" Ryan recites to the cameras, earning the usual shake of the head from Shane. I smile at the camera and turn back to Ryan as he continues with the history of the house.

"Avid fans of the show may remember that this is the site of our first paranormal investigation ever, and tonight, we return to once again tangle with Sarah Winchester and her cast of ghouls. This time stronger, faster, and more prepared with Y/N on our side. And tonight, we're actually gonna sleep here unlike last time." Ryan narrates as Shane and I make faces and gestors at the camera.

"You guys are lucky you brought me, because I brought snacks." I grinned, holding up a small backpack that crinkled as I let it drop the the floor.

"I'll stop by your room for concessions when Ryan's crying wakes me up then." Shane says while clapping his hands together, earning a glare from Ryan.

Upon nightfall, we head into our investigation. "You think you will talk to any ghosts this time? Maybe make some friends?" I tease Ryan as we head down a windowed corridor. "Shut it pip-squeak." He snaps back, shining his flashlight at me. "I'm literally like 2 inches shorter than you. If anyone here is short, is you, bite-sized bitch." I retort while panning my light over his figure.

"Could you two can it? You are both miniatures, no point in fighting about whose smaller." Shane says as he walks between the two of you. "Yeah? Says the walking fucking tree." I say, poking his back and sticking my tongue out at him. "Wow, real original, Shortcake." He scoffs while ruffling my hair. I reply by acting like I was going to bite him, and he laughs and keeps walking.

As we reach a peculiar set of stairs, Ryan tells a bit about them. "This is one of the stranger additions the the house, a set of stairs that leads to absolutely nowhere." Shane butts in "You know, if you walk up those there stairs, you'll find God!" He mocks in a crazy old man voice as I approach the steps. "Let's test it out and see!" I yell as I start dramatically climbing the stairs.

Once I was up as far as I could go, Ryan comments "Oh go on, you can go further than that!" I roll my eyes and turn around, curling up on the top set, squished against the ceiling. "Happy?!" I yell. "Sure am." Ryan says, laughing at my contorted body.

We continue touring the house, stopping to yell at ghosts and listen to Ryan talk about various facts. We eventually reach another door. "More rooms? I swear this house goes on foreverrrr." I whine. "Nope, this is a door you wouldn't want to go through." Ryan comments while tugging it open.

On the other side is a courtyard and a sheer drop. "That wasn't very well planned." Shane quips. I chuckle at him and Ryan just looks disappointed. I ignore them and carefully point my camera down to get a scary shot of the drop.

As I lean forward a bit, one of the boys nudges my back and I struggle to grab the doorframe. I turn and look at them and glare. "Not funny assholes." I growl as they look at me confused. "What are you talking about?" Ryan asks. "I'm talking about whichever one of you just fucking tried to push me." I hiss back. They give each other a look and I shake my head and turn back to the courtyard.

I crouch down to avoid them pushing me out and point my camera back down to finish the shot. As I'm panning my camera up, I get pushed again. This time I wasn't fast enough to grab the frame and I toppled out to the ground below. The boys shout as they and the crew rush out as fast as they can.

When they reach me in the courtyard, one of the crew members calls an ambulance. "Not.. funny." I grumble as I try pushing myself up. With a pained groan, I let myself fall back to the concrete.

Once the ambulance arrives, both the boys frantically ask them questions. The paramedics push them back, letting them know only family is allowed in the vehicle, and they will have to drive to the hospital. Shane convinces them to let him ride with me under the excuse of him "being my boyfriend". Ryan hops into the car and follows the ambulance to the hospital.

After a couple hours, a nurse entered the waiting room and informed the boys that they could come get me to be discharged. They both jumped up and followed her to my room and were greeted by the doctor.

"They have a concussion, fractured hip, a some scrapes and bruising. We got them all patched up. They'll be perfectly fine with some rest, just keep an eye on them." He says and looks up from his clipboard, directing his attention to Shane. "Try to hold off for a few weeks. Maybe more depending on how long the hip takes to heal." He comments, giving Shane a 'dad look' through his glasses.

Shane almost jumps to defend himself, before remembering telling the paramedics that he was my boyfriend. Instead, he just forces down a blush and nods at the doctor. The doctor just chuckles at him and looks back to his clipboard. "It looks like they are safe to leave. Remember to make sure they don't try to walk on their own and keep an eye on them." He says with a smile.

After getting back to my apartment, the boys helped to settle me in my bed. "So we talked to the producers on the way back, and they said we can schedule some time to go back if we need to, but I think we will have enough footage." Ryan explains while helping to grab some pajamas for me to change into. "And I sorted out your medical leave for you so you don't have to worry. I told them it was my fault."

"Wow, thanks for fessing up and telling them the truth." I said sarcastically as I rolled my eyes. Shane is quick to defend Ryan. "It wasn't his fault. Neither of us even touched you. You must have just fallen yourself." I scoff at him with a glare. "Then I'm gonna need to see that footage because you two are a bunch of lying assholes."

Ryan's eyes widen as he realizes. "OH MY GOD WE CAUGHT A FUCKING GHOST ON CAMERA." He yells causing me to cringe and cover my ears from my headache. "That or they are just clumsy as hell." Shane comments, earning another glare from me.

"Can I just get some sleep and have you assholes leave me be?" I half-joke as I reach for some water. "Nah, we've gotta keep an eye on you. Doctor's orders." Shane says cheekily. I throw my pillow at them and they laugh, bidding me goodnight.

Let's just hope they are liars, and I didn't just get pushed out of a door by a ghost.

#bfu #buzzfeed #buzzfeed true crime #buzzfeed unsolved #buzzfeed ryan #buzzfeed unsolved ryan #buzzfeed shane #buzzfeed unsolved shane #shane medej #ryan bergara #ryan x reader #ryan bergara x reader #shane x reader #shane medej x reader #x reader #platonic #bfu x reader #buzzfeed unsolves x reader

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loveandfictionforall · 3 years

Note

Could you maybe write something little about Shane really leaving the group and going on his own and then meating reader? Maybe he saves him and they then go together because reader doesn‘t want to be alone again?

Funnily enough, I have a fanfiction in which my OC rescues Sophia and meets the group. The end pairing is Shane but because I love to change the canon plot a lot happens differently in my story. I am writing this because I once had the idea that Shane goes with my OC Avery and they leave the Atlanta group while they are still at Hershel’s farm. So I hope it is alright that I use this as a starting point and instead of my OC I will use a reader.

You were staring into the darkness, your eyes sharp and searching for any sudden movement even though you had not slept for nearly twenty hours and just wanted to sleep. You were very glad that you found the group where Sophia came from but you couldn’t shake your need to just go. Escape while they are all asleep. They even had no guards because they lived in that wish that nothing will harm them here. You knew that was utter bullshit. Just one person was as wary as you. Shane. He was a bit unhinged but he got the gist of everything. The world is not how we know it anymore but still, there are people ready to ignore every danger just to get into old habits. This new world is not for old habits. And because of this, you were standing beside your Unimog, watching the trees in darkness while hearing some crickets.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?”, asked suddenly a voice behind you. You turned your head towards that person, not yet familiar with the voices to identify that man. Shane was standing just a meter away from you. Just enough to not come too close but near enough that he doesn’t need to raise his voice.

You shrugged your shoulders and turned back to the forest, quickly surveying everything to make sure nothing happened while you were distracted. You felt more than you heard Shane as he stepped up beside you, also watching the darkness. For a while none of you spoke, there was no need for. You were a stranger and you still had his reaction fresh in mind as you pulled up with Sophia. You could be a danger but every other person in this group just trusted you instantly just because you brought Sophia back. You could understand him. He just tried to keep everyone safe but he somehow had lost a bit of himself while he did it, bending morals and rules he once had.

“I am debating if I should just start my camper and go. This is not my place nor my group. I don’t feel safe with this ignorance, how they pretend that the world will get better. It won’t. At least not yet.”, you spoke softly. A breeze danced through your hair and made it hang into your face. Absently you shoved it out of your face. Your eyes were a bit heavy but you were accustomed to it since hell happened.

“Let’s go together.”, Shane said after a few minutes passed. Confused, you furrowed your eyebrows. You turned your head to look at him since he was still watching the trees. He eyed you sideways for a second and a small smile tugged at his mouth.

“Since Rick appeared everything shattered. I lost the woman I loved, I lost the boy who is like a son for me, I lost any say I once had. I tried to keep them all safe but they don’t agree with my methods. I can understand that but also I can only scoff at them. The world is not a good place anymore but they just close their eyes.”, his voice was low, full of hurt and anger. You could understand him.

“They would hear it.”, you sighed as you lightly knocked your knuckles against the white Unimog. Disappointment shone through in your words.

“Then let us go tomorrow on a run. Just the two of us but we never come back.” You turned your eyes back to the trees then you turned around and watched the house and the small tents of everyone. Yeah, you couldn’t do it. A bitter smile appeared on your lips.

“Yeah, let’s do it. I am bad at pretending. I would go crazy here.”, a low laugh left your lips. You turned your head to Shane who watched you, a deep understanding in his eyes. He nodded lightly.

“Then go to sleep. I will keep watch. In three hours the sun will rise again.”, were his last words. He stuffed his hands into his pants pockets and shuffled to your old place, leaning against your Unimog. Without a word you climbed into it and went to bed.

The group didn’t suspect anything as Shane and you told them you wanted to do a run. Only Rick looked suspicious but didn’t say anything. Instead, he gave Shane his shotgun and a machete and you got your stuff back. With quick steps, you two entered your Unimog. Totally relaxed, you started the motor and turned your car so you could drive to the highway.

You both said nothing as you drove off. Minutes passed and after an hour and some miles away from the farm you could see how Shane began to relax. A sigh fell from his lips as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

“Doubt?”, you asked as your eyes watched the road.

“Not a bit.”, was his answer, pairing with a small genuine chuckle.

You drove further with no destination. Shane and you would live and someday maybe you will see the group again. Who knows?

#the walking dead #the walking dead fic #twd fic #twd shane #twd shane x you #twd shane x reader #twd rick #shane walsh #shane walsh x reader #shane walsh x you #twd x you #twd x reader

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fandomficsnstuff · 3 years

Text

Guardian Angel - Part 5

Daryl Dixon x Reader

(Warnings: the reader goes off on Jenner, so get ready for that XD also time skips again)

You giggled as Glenn groaned at his headache “that’s what you get for drinking so much” you remarked, getting a glare from him that only served to amuse you further. Glenn scoffed at your amusement “it was Daryl who-” you hummed low as you interrupted him “I know, but you’re an adult, you can say no” Glenn groaned again at your response, holding his head in pain. You smiled to yourself as you felt Daryl’s hand on your thigh under the table, and you found Lori’s eyes, smiling at you, but something was wrong, you could see it, you were about to gesture her to leave the table with you when Shane arrived, and instantly her face dropped and you knew something had happened between them.

You tried not to mind as you continued to eat your scrambled eggs, but your eyes kept going to Lori, who gave you a very subtle shake of her head, telling you to leave it, so you couldn’t argue with that, she didn’t want to talk about it, at least not now, so you respected that, and continued to eat your eggs as you enjoyed the feeling of Daryl’s hand on your thigh, a warming reminder of last night, which you could still feel in the rest of your body, a tingly feeling was left between your legs, and judging by the hand that stayed on your thigh, it wasn’t just a one time thing for him either, as he said, he doesn’t just take anyone with him on hunts.

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You stared with wide eyes at Jenner, the noises of the others, Daryl included, trying to break down the security door was like static from an old radio, just there in the background, and without thinking your fist landed in Jenner’s face, something that surprised everyone, “how DARE you! You’d murder these kids?! So what if it’s shit out there and your wife died! Who are you to decide and play God?! You’re commiting murder right now, and so what if the world has gone to hell and that doesn’t matter anymore, so what if we die but you’re willing to kill the kids!? They haven’t even had a chance at life you asshole! They’re children they deserve a chance that’s what children are for, a second chance at this fucked up world! It was shit before the dead started to walk and that ain’t ever gonna change but you can’t just take their possibilities away from them! It’s their lives, and who knows if they’ll grow up to fix all this shit!!” Rick had to hold you back as you screamed at Jenner, who still held his cheek in shock, your body flailing and kicking “let me get him Rick!! He’s trying to kill us and the kids, YOUR kid!” you screamed again, this time feeling a second pair of arms, Glenn, holding you back, and you finally took a step back, still ready to mop the floor with his ass but you held back, realizing that kids shouldn’t see that, even now.

You were so lost in your rage that you hadn’t even realized that Rick had talked to him, and the security door opened, it as first when you heard your name that you turned and saw the door open, seeing Daryl standing there, waiting for you, a fire axe in hand and Glenn tugging at your hand to run. Your feet moved quicker than you thought possible, bolting towards the exit and reaching Daryl, his hand on your lower back as you both bolted towards the exits, but once again, you were trapped. You picked up a chair and joined the others in trying to break a window, slamming it against the glass and even trying with your own body, but nothing worked, it was only when Daryl tackled you and pulled you away from the window that a grenade did the job, Daryl straight up dragging you to your feet and back out the window, groaned as you landed on the grass outside but you didn’t have time to think or react, your feet picking up the pace once again and carrying you to the vehicles, Daryl right behind you as you hid behind a wall of bags of sand, your eyes scanning the group, only to come up with a few missing. You watched in horror as Andrea and Dale barely made it out of there, you quickly got up and ran over to them, helping them get up and run back to the cars just in time for the building to explode, the force of it making you trip and fall, scraping your knee and hurting your ankle even further.

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You held onto Daryl tightly as you pulled up on the highway, your way being blocked by, probably, thousands of cars, abandoned and dusty, like they left in a hurry, whoever owned them. You winced as you got off of the bike and instantly Daryl got off as well, frowning and studying your knee and how you took the pressure off of your injured ankle. You were about to tell him to leave it when you heard your name being called, turning to see Lori waving you over, you smiled gently at Daryl, giving his hand a squeeze as you carefully made your way over to Lori, smiling at her as you finally reached her “what’s up?” you leaned against one of the cars and she smirked at you “so, am I allowed to sing that song yet or…?” you scoffed and rolled your eyes “you can sing it all you want, just watch out of arrows that randomly fly your way” you joked, making her chuckle before noticing your knee “that looks like it hurts, are you okay?” she frowned, bending a bit down to get a closer look, but you stopped her, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze “it’s fine, it’s just a scrape” she gave you a worried look, but ultimately gave up and sighed, leaning against the car alongside you, having her eyes on Carl, “so, how’d you get one?” you frowned as you looked confused at her “what?” you gave her a puzzled look but she just smirked and kept her eyes on Carl “our room was next to yours, apparently” your blushed bright red “oh my god…” you mumbled, burying your face in your hands, making her laugh, “so, how’d you get one?” you glanced up at her again, still confused “get what?” she smirked at you again and nudged your shoulder with hers “a condom” you grew even more red at that “oh uh, I didn’t…” you saw Lori stare at you in shock as you kept your eyes straight forward, looking at her out of the corner of your eyes “but you still-”

“Yeah but… like… he pulled out…” you mumbled, making Lori scoff “yeah so did Rick, nine months later I’m in the hospital with a son in my arms” you glanced at her with part horror, part shock in your eyes, making Lori just smirk again as she moved over to Carl, leaving you to your thoughts, were that woman trying to scare you into becoming a nun?! You glanced to Daryl who glanced back at you, giving you one of his rare, soft smiles that you completely loved. You smiled back and went over to him, but were cut off by Glenn who looked at you anxiously, glancing between you and Daryl “spit it out Glenn, come on” you gave him a reassuring smile but it only seemed to make him more nervous, making you realize that this was probably a tad more serious than you thought, so you moved behind a few cars, standing alone with him “what’s up?” he looked away embarrassed “I-I just uh… I heard you and Lori talking and uh…” you frowned, you knew he wouldn’t spy on you, at least not intentionally “yeah, so?” Glenn sighed like you made everything harder for him “I just-... you know I care about you a-and… I-I just heard and I… what if… what if you and him-... and you… and what about me if-... if it happens?... what am I supposed to do you're like-...” you sighed, you got what he was trying to say, at least you think so, you looked down before back up at Glenn, hugging him a tight hug “it’s okay, it’s not gonna happen, I’ll be okay” he nodded and carefully hugged you back, both of you unaware of a certain archer who had come to check on you as you got out of his view, hearing what you were talking about, a pissed off look on his face as he moved away. You parted from Glenn “if it happens don’t worry, you’ll be Uncle Glenn” you gave him a wink and he exhaled half nervous, half relieved, and it made you chuckle “yeah, sorry I just-”

“It’s alright Glenn, you know how much I care about you and you’re like a brother to me” Glenn nodded at your words before moving away, you moved your way towards Daryl yourself, smiling as you see him by his bike, like he was before. “Hey handsome” you were about to lean in to give him a kiss when he leaned away, making you frown, maybe he didn’t want to be public about it, or maybe he didn’t want you again… maybe it was just a one time thing for him… you looked down before back up at him, he still hadn’t looked at you “hey, is everything okay?” he scoffed almost immediately “I don’t know, why don’t you ask the chinese kid” you frowned even more, you were sure a few wrinkles would have etched their way into your skin by now “what do you mean, Glenn? He’s Korea-”

“Yeah whatever, go to him instead with all your bullshit” you tilted your head to try and get his eyes on you, but he just looked away even more, making you straight up pissed “the hell are you talking about, my ‘bullshit’ ?” you snapped, and finally he looked at you “I fuckin’ heard you, ‘you and him’ and all that!” you scoffed and shook your head “he overheard me talking with Lori, Lori was worried about what we did last night because we didn’t use protection, you asshole! He was just scared that something should happen to me, he’s like a brother to me! Prick...” Daryl’s face visibly softened at your words, and he was about to say something when you just scoffed and went off, trying to find Lori, you needed to cool off and she was pretty much the only one who could help you calm down when you were this riles up, plus you needed to talk to someone about Daryl, and since she already knew, it was ideal.

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You held your breath as you hid under a car, watching the shuffling feet walk by you, your whole body shaking as you had your knife out, just in case, but so far they were unaware of your presence, that is, until one stumbled and fell, landing with it’s face facing you, growling once it spotted you. You couldn’t risk quickly stabbing it to keep it quiet, there were still others passing by and it might alert them, plus you didn’t really have a lot of room to wiggle around in, for now it were content with just laying there, watching you as it grew more aggravated with each second passing, when feet stopped coming from behind you, you took the opportunity, carefully sliding out from under the car, the walker growling and getting up slowly, on it’s way to chase you down, and without seeing another option, you jumped over the railing and slided down the hill, quickly taking off as you heard the walker follow you, unless it broke both it’s legs, it was probably going to follow you to the ends of the earth, just to get a bite, a taste. You pant heavily as you continue running, your lungs burning, and once you’re far enough out you stop, leaning against a tree as you try to catch your breath as quietly as possible, though it wasn’t as easy as you had hoped, and you probably sounded more like a dog in the summer with thick fur, panting and heaving for breath as you tried to listen for footsteps.

After a few seconds you heard some shuffling, turning you saw now more than the one that had chased you, there were now four of them, slowly walking in your direction. You sighed and glanced at your ankle, it had just gotten better and now you had to run again, for the hundredth time without a brake or a possibility to see how bad the damage was. You leaned your head against the tree, closing your eyes and giving yourself a few seconds to gather up your courage before bolting once again, your knife in your hand and your ankle burning, you had no idea where you were headed, you just needed to get away from those walkers, four were too many for you to handle on your own.

#Daryl Dixon #Daryl Dixon x Reader #TWD FanFic

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hermankopusortizorsumshite · 3 years

Text

Walsh

PART ONE:

Warning: smut, violence, gore, breaking and entering, sarcasm. So much swearing. Mentions of Shane c*ck.

Kennedie Gunner was Lori’s best friend throughout high school as Shane was Rick’s best friend. The two often saw a lot of each other, more than Kennedie appreciated most days. She lived down the street a little ways from Rick and Lori, and visited every chance she got. She and Lori would spend nights together if Rick was pulling a double, as Lori never felt safe alone.

“Morning Kennie! Hey, Rick’s planning a little backyard barbeque if you’re interested.” Lori smiles as she pats the seat next to her. “You want to go grocery shopping with me?” She asks, flicking the list on the table.

“Sure!” The Gunner woman cheers, grabbing her small purse and leaving out behind Lori. Carl had gone to his friend’s house for the night, excited to kick off summer.

“So first stop is the liquor store. You want to make mimosas? Or?” The brunette asks as they drive towards town.

“Whatever you want. I’ll buy booze, Lo.” The blonde offers with a smile. Lori nods in acceptance because she knows Kennedie will fight dirty to the end. As they make a right, too busy talking that Lori forgets a turn signal, a police car lights the two up and Lori groans.

“Mornin’ ladies.” That voice could make Kennedie’s blood boil.

“Morning, Officer Walsh, Officer Grimes, what did I do?” Lori asks, rolling her eyes and giggling. Kennedie wasn’t giggling.

"Miss Gunner, you still look stunningly pissed off, as per usual.” Shane calls across to her, giving her a nod.

“And you still look like a douchebag, Walsh.” She snorts, rolling her eyes as she gives him a sarcastic smile.

“Always a pleasure, Ken.” He nods, pushing back his short curls.

“Yeah, never is.” She bites, flipping him the bird.

“Anyways, gals. I noticed you didn’t use a turn signal back there.” He drawls, and Lori giggles to Kennedie with a smile on her face.

“Jesus christ, Shane. Why don’t you go do some actual police work instead of hitting on your married partner’s wife!” She jabs, and Shane stalks to the other side of the car.

“Is that illegal drugs I smell?” He asks, popping open the door and unbuckling her. “Stop out of the car, ma’am. You don’t have any weapons or drug paraphernalia on ya, right?”

“No. I don’t, asshole.” She nips, letting Shane kick her ankles apart.

“Guess I’d better check, huh?” He asks, pushing his hands down her body roughly. A shiver breaks through her and she sucks in a breath. It doesn’t go unnoticed as he steps away. “Must be the smell lingering in the car, huh? You ladies have a great day. I’ll see y’all tonight.” He chuckles, sashaying back to the car like he hadn’t made the hair on her neck stand up.

“Bye Shane! Bye honey!” Lori calls as they head towards the store. “You two love to rile each other up. You get him going, then he gets you going; it’s hilarious honestly.”

“I can’t stand that awful man. He’s so fuckin’ annoying. He walks around like his penis could save the human race. News flash, buddy! It’s probably nothin’ special!” She berates as she heads into the store with Lori.

As she and Lori finish up dinner, she quickly jogs to the bathroom to change into shorts and a bikini top. Lori had said they’d swim if it killed them. The sweet brunette meets her at the sliding glass door in her bikini and two mimosas in her hands.

“Girl, yes.” She heaves, slipping a glass from her hand and taking a sip.

“Hey, so question. Rick and I were to vacation would you be okay to watch Carl? It’d only be a weekend. Rick wants to go away for our fifth anniversary but he wants a little escape.” Lori’s cheeks flame cherry red.

“I’d love to!” She cheers, patting Lori’s knee before they both find their way into the pool. Getting settled into some floats, sunglasses on, and mimosas in hand, the two women float around the pool.

“Fire in the hole!” Shane’s deep voice carries through the breezeway before he jumps off the deck, landing directly on her float and sending her careening into the pool, mimosa soaring through the air.

“Walsh!” She yells as she comes up for air. Swimming over to him, she grabs his neck and drives him under the water. He allows her to try for another minute longer before he physically stands up and drags her out of the water with him. As she huffs and tries to swim away, his finger expertly hooks her bikini top and tugs. As she starts to stand up, her breasts are on full display for him and she gives a shriek. “You are such a pig!” She cries, face flaming red from embarrassment as she scoops her top from the water and ties it on.

“Damn, why such a prude baby? That was probably the first time another man ever saw your tits!” He calls, mockinggly gripping at the air like a pair of breasts.

“Dammit Shane. You’re always such a bully.” Rick groans as Lori heads in after her.

“She’s just sore, that’s all. She’s too closed off.” Shane gripes as he sits with Rick to drink a beer.

“Either way, listen. Me and Lori are going away for our fifth anniversary, okay? And Kennie’s in charge of Carl, but will you just check up twice a day? Sometimes he gets to be a lot for one person, yeah?”

Shane’s eyes meet Rick’s and he snorts a little.

“Rick, she’s a grown woman.”

“Yeah, but you gotta at least watch the lights, man. Women can’t shut off lights. Also, go say sorry, man.” Rick jabs a lazy finger at the larger man who only chuckles in response.

“What? Nah, man. She’s a grown woman.” He laughs, taking another drink. Rick finishes dinner on the grill and the four adults sit down to eat in the dim glow of the sting lights.

“Sorry, Ken. I’m sorry for earlier. I did not know you were a sensitive little girl.” He snorts, she grabs a piece cheese and tosses it at him. He just laughs, snatching it and sticking it to her bare chest.

“Don’t you have ass waiting for you, Walsh?” She nips.

“Nah, you wanna be?” He licks his bottom lip and wiggles his brows at he.

“A comedian? That’s very impressive. A sheriff. An asshole. And a comedian. You must be a popular man at parties.” She nods, throwing her head back in laughter.

“That’s right.” He nods, giving her his big, gorgeous smile he used on other women, and for a millisecond, he thought he saw a flash of something more behind those sarcastic, rolling eyes.

“Alright. Well, I’m gonna head home you guys. Thank you for dinner! I’ll be over Thursday night then?” She asks as she rises from the table. Shane rises as well to Rick and Lori’s surprise.

“Can I walk you home? It’s dark.” He states, giving Rick a little smile.

“Are you really that much of a lightweight? No you’re not walking me home.” She nips, shoving him away as he steps closer to her.

“Good night, Kennie.” He coos, waving goodbye.

“Shut up, Walsh.” She grabs her purse and heads for the door. Lori does follow, giving her a big hug and offering to see her Thursday.

“Yeah, we plan on leaving Thursday night when Carl gets home from school.” Lori talks as she walks with her best friend out the door.

“Got it! I’ll pack my stuff then and see you guys Thursday!” She cheers as she heads down the street. A car circles her but drives away. Finding it odd, she grabs her pepper spray that Walsh had forced her to take a few years ago.

“Weird.” She states as she goes in and shuts the door. Turning on her alarm system, she double checks the windows before heading to bed.

Thursday morning comes and she packs her suitcase before loading into her car. Driving down the street to Rick and Lori’s, she pulls in behind Rick and Shane’s cruiser. A moment of realization hits when she sees Walsh in the passenger seat eating fries.

Ducking down under his view, she tries her best to hide but when she hears the door click open and shut she sits up and gives him her best unimpressed face.

“Good morning, you prude. What are you here so early for? Rick and Lori are probably gettin’ it on, so I might suggest not going in there. Unless you’re into that. We could have an orgy on the couch.” Shane wiggles his brows, giving her a stupid grin.

“I’m not orgying with anyone who tries to hit on me with ketchup on their face like a man child.” She laughs, shoving at him as she gets out and grabs her suitcase.

“Why do you hate me so much?” He asks as he slips the case from her hands and carries it to the door. Her hands go for the handle, but Lori’s greeting interupts her.

“I don’t hate you. Dislike? Oh yeah. Hate? Uhm, no.” She answers as Lori meets her at the door with a wild grin.

“Come in!” She cheers, swinging open the door. Shane snatches her suitcase and carries it in for her.

“Walsh? You okay?” She asks, looking to him with confusion written across her face.

“Yeah, why?”

“Because you’re being nice and I want to throw up.” Kennedie nips at him, raising her brows.

“Because the confused look on your face is worth it.” He snorts, dropping it onto the couch. A little black piece of lace sticks out so far that he hooks it with his index finger and gives her a wink.

“Shit, you wanna put ‘em on? Show me how they look?”

“Oh, Christ. Fuck off.” She barks, snatching the black panties from his finger and stuffing them into the bag before storming away from him. His laugh carries, egging her on. For a split second, Shane could imagine her in those black lace panties and his breath hitched.

“I guess Rick and I are gonna head out a little early since you and Shane are here. Shane offered to get Carl from school today and tomorrow. Didn’t you?” Lori asks with a very prominent nod.

“Yeah, I figured why not. Carl likes the cruiser better than your Honda anyway.” He prods, licking his lips again, hand running over his mouth and stubble. Of course Kennedie could tell what she was doing.

“I bet. I bet you use Carl to pick up girls on your way here too, don’t ya?”

“Yeah, it ain’t worked on you yet, you grannie.” He digs, winking at her before he tugs on his utility belt. “Some of us have to work, so. I’ll get Carl from school, try to be decent when we get back.” He prods, jabbing a finger at the lace panties still in her hand. “Carl doesn’t need to see that stuff.” Balling them up, she throws them at Shane, watching them hook onto a button on his uniform.

“Shut it, Walsh.” She nips, snatching her panties away once more before heading to the living room to put them in her suitcase.

“You two enjoy each other’s company! Thanks again!” Lori calls as she and Rick barrel out the door to their car.

“Enjoy your company? That’ll be the day.” She huffs, flipping on the TV to a music channel. Shane hadn’t noticed he was staring until she looks up from cleaning up the living room.

“Why do you hate me?” He asks softly, leaning his hip against the door jam as he cards through his thick, dark curls.

“Because you treat women like objects. They only need three essential things and none of them are a personality or a heart.” She offers as she puts the books on the shelf and stacks his toys in a bin.

“I’m not as bad as you think.”

“You left Rick’s christmas party last year with one of Lori’s friends. You left Fourth of July, broke Carl’s heart, because he wanted Shane to go to the fireworks with him, because of pussy. You left the Labor Day party for pussy. You left Carl’s fifth birthday for pussy. So I love that you’re trying to connect with me for some weird reason, but Shane? You only have one thing on your mind and I won’t be a notch in that stupid utility belt.” She states matter-of-factly as she wipes down the counter.

“You’re just jealous.”

“No I’m not and it pisses you off. You can’t get to me and it bothers you doesn’t it? I’m the one woman in the entire world who isn’t drooling over your dick.” She chuckles as she wipes down the couple dishes in the sink.

“I’m really not into you. Somewhere in that sick little mind you’ve created this fantasy that I’m in love with you.” He points to his own temple as if to signal she’s crazy.

“Oh sure, I did. I heard you hold your breath when you saw those black panties. Somewhere in that sick little brain of yours, you’re imagining what I look like in those. Don’t ya?” She asks, giving him a dirty smirk. Storming up against her, he gets in her face and she doesn’t back down.

“You bet. And all you think about is that Walsh dick. Right? You want some?” He growls, his body against hers.

“No thank you, Shane. But I appreciate the offer.” She coos, giving him a sweet smile before slipping past him. “Bye! See you in a couple hours!” She calls as he storms out the house.

As she hears a car pull in the driveway, she looks out to see Shane and Carl grinning and laughing, Carl’s face covered in blue around his mouth. Heading out the front door to greet them, a stern look as her arms cross over her chest.

“OH shoot. Run little man. Kennie’s mad!” He grabs Carl’s hand, trying to run away.

“You two get in here. Shane! He had ice cream?” She whines, waving to the blue stain around his mouth.

“It was only a little. We shared one scoop.” He offered.

“Carl, are you hungry for dinner? There’s enough for you too, Walsh.” She states as she leads Carl into the house and wipes off his face.

“You wanna wipe off my face too?” Shane calls. She just huffs, rolling her eyes as she sets a couple plates down.

“Are you eating?” She asks, eyes never leaving the chicken on the stove.

“Can I trust her cookin’?” He whispers loudly to Carl, catching her attention.

“Yeah. She’s a good cooker.” Carl assures in a loud whisper.

“A’right. I’ll stay.” He nods like he’s doing her a favor and sits at the table, unclipping his utility belt and hanging it over the chair. They eat in silence, not much to say.

“At school today, this girl told me that she thinks I’m cute. I told her what you say uncle Shane. Cute’s my middle name.” He giggles, “and then she kissed me on the cheek uncle Shane!” He cheers, earning a hand shake and a laugh from the large man.

“Oh that’s great, Walsh.” She chimes, giving him a dark look.

“Nice job.” He smiles, patting Carl’s head. Forking a chunk of chicken into his mouth, he moans at the delicious flavor and when she looks across to him confused he just nods to Carl, “you were right. Good cooker.” Shane nods, talking with his mouth full.

They finish their meal in quiet, Shane shooting Carl funny faces every now and again, making him giggle.

“Thanks for dinner.” He nods as he rises to his feet, scrubbing a hand down his jaw.

“No problem.” She smiles, grabbing the dishes up and heading to the sink.

“Hey Aunt Kennie?” Carl asks, looking to her as he brings his plate over in two little ketchup-covered hands. “Momma says you and uncle Shane won’t date a’cause you’re too stubborn. What does stubborn mean?” He asks, looking up holding his plate.

“Me and uncle Shane can’t date because he’s a womanizer, okay?” She explains, putting his plate into the sink with the other two. Shane coughs, drawing attention to himself. “What?” She asks very plainly.

“You can’t tell a five year old that his uncle is a womanizer.” He retorts.

“I just did.”

“What’s a womanizer?” Carl asks, looking to Kennedie for the answer.

“It’s when a guy treats women, not nice.” She improvises, deciding ‘like toys’ wasn’t the best answer.

“Oh, uncle Shane can’t be a woman fighter, he’s too nice. He changed an ol’ girl’s tire the other day.” Carl responds, holding out his hands to be washed.

“Not a woman fighter, hun, a womanizer.” She chuckles, looking over her shoulder to see Shane laughing softly to himself.

“Uncle Shane, are you taking me to school tomorrow?” Carl asks as she wipes away the ketchup from his hands and fingers.

“Sure, bud. I’ll be here at seven-thirty, okay?” He asks, crouching down to Carl level. Carl nods, hugging the officer before letting Shane rise to his feet and head to the door.

“See you in the morning, Walsh. And don’t be early. I’m not a morning person.” She nips, jabbing a finger at him.

“So six is good then?” He asks as he walks out the door and closes it behind him.

#shane walsh x oc #shane walsh #shane walsh fanfiction #walking dead #the walking dead #pre apocalypse #shane walsh pre apocalypse #shane walsh slowburn #shane walsh angst #jesus christ shane #sweet jesus tell me how to get these tags without typing all of them everytime.#shane walsh twd

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altr5312916195 · 3 years

Text

The Ghoul Boys' Pizza Party

“I can’t believe I let you dupe me into coming to a children's pizza place, Ryan. You really got me on this one.”

Shane told his partner as they stood outside of the abandoned building.

“Okay, yes it’s an odd place to be, but you know there’s been some stories since the opening of Freddy’s.”

“Oh, do tell.”

Shane said, feigning interest as they approached the doors.

“There’s legends of child murders, shady business and family affairs. A few of the restaurants went up in flames.”

Ryan explained. The pair walked up to the doors with the owner, and their crew behind them. The man unlocked the doors.

“Not this one though?”

“Not this one.”

Ryan confirmed as the man pushed the doors open.

“Have fun dudes, I’ll see you at six.” He chuckled.

He handed them pale blue button ups, a golden security badge sitting on top of the folded shirt.

“Great!

Let’s try not to die in a fire.”

Shane said, as he pulled on his shirt, fastening the badge to it.

“No promises.”

Ryan told him, being the first to step inside, buttoning his shirt.

“Oh look at the confidence!

The swagger ole’ Bergara has tonight.”

Shane chuckled as he walked behind.

The door clicked behind the crew as the owner locked them in for the night.

“I got a good feeling about this one.”

Ryan looked back at Shane with a smile.

“As in we’ll find some ghosts, or we’ll be ghoul free and you’ll go home and sleep well?”

“I’m not so sure yet.”

He noted, while dragging his hand across the damp wall. He found some light switches along the way and flicked them on. The overheads failed to power up, but the stage lights flickered on.

“Oh I truly hate that.”

Shane noted as the stage lit up, getting a good look at some tattered animatronics.

“Yeah that’s.. Not what you want to see.”

The Boys stepped to the edge of the stage, while the big three loomed over them.

“So tell me about the lore here. What are we looking at, I seem to recall child murder.”

Shane broke the silence.

“Yes! Lore..”

Ryan broke out of his trance and looked to Shane.

“Fredbear’s Family Diner opened in the early 70’s.”

“Oh they beat Chuck E?”

“Sure did.”

“The old cheese miser, they beat em to it.”

‘No one said they did a good job though.”

“Oh of course not..

Child murder isn’t good for the business,

Ryan c’mon! You should know that.”

“Hey, don’t jump ahead now hold on. So the little restaurant does well on it’s own for a time. It’s owned by one guy, guy decides it’s time to branch out.”

*chuckles* “Does guy have a name?”

“He does.”

*Gasp* “He does!”

“It’s Henry.”

“Henry, no last name?”

*laughs*

That is correct.”

“Oh that’s- *laughs* Wonderful.”

“Right so he teams up with this man.”

“Oh a partnership!

Does he have a name?”

“William Afton.”

“A last name too! What a lucky guy!”

*chuckles* “His full name is in the police report”

“But not Henry’s? He builds this business

From ground up and they don’t even give him

A proper name. What horse shit.”

“The disrespect is real.”

“It is!”

“It gets more real when you find out Afton’s

Pinned for henry’s daughter’s murder.”

*Laughs* “What? No you’re

Fucking with me.”

“Shane, I'm so serious.”

“Stop.”

“Honest to god.”

“That douche, that british douche!”

“Wha- *wheeze*

Why’s he a brit?”

“I just get the vibes.”

Ryan laughed it off, but continued on as they walked the table filled room.

“Freddy Fazbear’s opens about late 70’s right?”

“Things are going steady? No dead kids?”

“No dead kids, then!”

*chuckles* “Oh no..”

“See this is when Henry’s daughter goes missing.

Charlie.”

“That’s her name?”

“Charlette, yeah.”

“Oh okay, that douche Afton kills her.”

“Exactly, and hides her body

In one of the suits.”

“No!”

*nods* “Henry builds these things

And ole Afton thinks it’s a burial ground.”

“What a dick. That’s a new level

Of disrespect Ryan.”

“But wait! *laugs*

He kills five more kids.”

*laughs* “Ryan, that's not funny.”

“Shane, you're laughing too.”

“Well of course! Your delivery

Was so nonchalant.”

*laughs* “So five more kids.”

“Into the suits?”

“Yep.”

“Unrelated to Charlie?”

“Exactly.”

“But why?”

“He never told.”

“So he was taken in for this?”

“Then released because

They never found the bodies.”

“You’re kidding?”

“No, and then after Henry..

Well he kills himself.”

“Henry did? Oh god..”

“Right, Afton takes the rights.

Opens a new Freddy’s.”

“That douche bag..

He’s evil Ryan.”

“Truly, it’s scary.

But he opens this place,

Circus Baby’s.

His own daughter dies by

His animatronic, Baby.”

“That’s Karma.”

“You’d think.

You know his son dies too.”

“Who let this man have kids?”

“His dead wife..”

“OH MY GOD” *laugs*

“How’d she die?”

*laugh* “I’ll give you two guesses.”

“Sweet Satan.

Man’s got the worst luck.”

“Well, yknow

Maybe don’t murder children for funsies.”

“Fair point.”

There was a metallic creek behind them as they walked the restaurant.

*soft chuckle*

“Oh no..”

“I-

I’m not turning around.”

*laughs* “Please do,

We’ll turn around together.”

*Deep breath*

“Okay.”

“One.”

“Two..”

“Three.” The boys turned to face the stage once again.

“Ryan the bear moved.”

“Freddy.”

“Oh, Mr Fazbear himself.”

“The big man..”

Freddy’s eyes glinted as they shifted to gaze at Shane and Ryan.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Shane.. There’s a child in there.”

“A real one?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Can’t be.”

“What?”

“I said what I said.”

“I- wha-

Alright, okay.”

“Can we sit, and finish the story?”

“You’re not scared?”

“No.”

Shane simply told him, and pulled out a dusty chair. Ryan sat next to him, and sighed. Though his eyes often darted between Shane, and Freddy.

“Fine..

So Afton has a few restaurants running.”

“Despite Henry killing himself.

Got it. Douche.”

“Well the first Freddy’s shuts down.

Not because of missing kids, but faulty walk around suits.”

“Faulty walk around suits,

What did a worker almost die

While handing out cake?”

Ryan starred at his partner silently. Shane laughed.

“They did?”

“That’s when they finally bring Afton in.”

“And then let him go?

Five kids, dead.

Business partner, dead

Worker, dead.

They let him go.”

“It’s insane, but yes.

So they shut the first Freddy’s down.”

“This one, right?

They rebuilt it in the 90s right?”

“Yeah, some things happened in between.

Five kids, spring lock accident, bite of 87’.”

“A kid bit someone?”

“An animatronic bit a security guard.”

“Oh.. Oh well that’s us tonight.”

Shane gestured to the pale blue shirt, gold badge shining in the dim light of their flashlights.

“That’s.. Foreboding.”

“Unfortunately, yeah.

You know they’ve gone through

Team of animatronics

After team of animatronics.

They finally decide to put it all to rest.”

“Everything closes down?”

“All of it.

Years later, Afton’s off the grid.”

“He’s dead?”

“That’s a theory.”

“A game theory, got it.

Now we’re here.”

“Right.”

“Let’s get hunting then.”

Shane stands up, and Ryan follows. He looks down at his watch.

“One thirty A.M.”

“Five more hours.”

Ryan sighs nervously. They move from the main dining hall into a hallway. The dim lights of the stage stay behind them. They turn into a new room, a small stage in the middle.

“Who’s that?”

Shane pointed to the red fur, and yellow eye that peaked at them behind a purple curtain.

“That would be Foxy.”

“The pirate.

Chica, Bonnie.”

“And a puppet.”

“Where is that one?”

“Storage.

Lot of people think Charlie is in that one.”

“Oh fun, gotta love living in a box forever.”

Shane walked to the tiny stage and reached out for the curtain.

“Dude! Stop what’s wrong with you?”

*chuckles* “C’mon it’s fine.”

He pulled back the curtain. A sharp creak rang out as the silver hook fell on Shane’s arm. He hissed in pain and pulled back.

“I fucking told you!”

“So the gears are loose, Ryan.

Shut up, I’m not dead.

Just give me a bandaid and an alcohol wipe.”

“We’re gonna need shots after this..”

“Oh please.”

Shane scoffed as one of the crew walked over and wiped at the cut with a small wipe, and slapped a bandaid over it.

“Good as new!”

Shane smiled, and thanked the crew member.

“Now, how bout a good ole spirit box?”

Ryan sighed, and pulled out the spirit box, setting it on one of the tables next to them.

“Alright Foxy, it’s gonna get a little loud in here.

Bet you’re used to it from all the screaming kids though.”

“Well he hasn’t been around em in a while.”

“It has been a bit.”

Ryan clicked the spirit box on. The loud shuffle of noise began as everyone listened in anticipation. Seconds passed and Ryan sighed again, disappointed.

“Nothing! C’mon Foxy boy, you got nothing to say?”

The room was quiet save for the radio channels shuffling.

Then something broke through.

“Save them.”

Ryan’s eyes widened as goosebumps hit his arms.

“No.”

*chuckles* “That.. that was the clearest thing

We’ve heard..”

Ryan looked at the tattered red fox and stepped back.

“Shane what the hell was that?”

The words “Save them” struck the cold air again.

Shane laughed, albeit nervously.

“The kids need help Ryan.”

“Shane stop.”

“Ryan they need you.”

“Shane it’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny.”

Ryan picked up the spirit box, and turned it off. He quickly ducked back into the hallway.

“Oh come- Ryan come on.”

Shane followed him out. They continued down the corridor.

“Shane it’s not funny,

There’s kids in there.”

“You can’t believe that.”

“You don’t?”

Shane hesitated.

“No, I don’t.”

A dim light at the end of the hall led them to an office.

Computer screens lined the wall.

“I’m sorry I can’t find it

Easy to joke about these kids.”

“Ryan stop.. It’s fine. It’s what we do.”

They looked to the screens as they argued and Ryan stopped mid sentence.

“Chica’s gone.”

“What? No she’s no-”

On the main screen, the stage, there was only two animals up there. Freddy, and Bonnie.

A crash came from the kitchen.

“Is the whole team in the office?”

Ryan asked, and counted the members in the room. They were all there.

“Shut the doors.”

Shane fumbled for a door, there was none. Just a hole in the wall. He muttered in confusion as he hit the red button labeled door. A metal door came slamming shut.

“I don’t think that’s very safe.”

“But the animatronics outside are?”

“Pick your poison Ryan.”

“We are going to die here..”

“Oh stop! *laughs* We’re fine.”

“Shane I don’t think you understand!

So many people died here.

Kids, nightguards, shift managers. Families, Shane.”

“Ryan, it’s not true.”

Ryan shook his head, and turned to look back at the screens on the wall. Shane put a hand on Ryan’s shoulder.

“Come on, Ryan..”

He laughed awkwardly, while Ryan shrugged his hand away.

One of the monitors glitched, coming back to show Foxy in a new position.

“It moved.”

“I see that..”

“What do we do?”

“Nothing, we watch them.

What time is it?”

“Three.”

Ryan sighed, and sunk into one of the roller chairs by the desk.

“Ryan what are we doing?”

“I don’t know! Okay?

We’re stuck here until dawn. Let’s just ride it out.”

Shane sat down next to him, and watched the computer screens. The main screen glitched as Bonnie moved off stage, leaving Freddy alone.

“Shane, why do you think they’re moving?”

“They’re programmed that way aren’t they?”

“You think they do that at Chuck E Cheese?”

“Well, yknow..

I don’t know. I’ve never been in this position.”

Ryan shuffled around again for the spirit box and clicked it on.

Shane groaned and flinched as the sound screeched through the small room.

“Oh you love to hate it..”

Shane joked as Ryan shushed him. Shane pouted and sighed, leaning back in the chair. More banging came from the kitchen.

“Let’s eat.”

“Ryan.. *laughs*

Ryan the chicken is gonna eat us.”

“Shane..”

“I’m sorry I can’t help it.”

Footsteps echoed down the hall, and Ryan turned off the box to hear them better. Things went quiet until something slammed against the door. Ryan jumped back with a shout, and Shane pointed his flashlight towards the window.

In the window a purple shadow stood smiling.

“It’s Bonnie.”

“I see him, Shane.”

“What do we do?”

“Everyone stay still, maybe it’ll go away.”

They both spoke barely above a whisper. Minutes passed as the bunny stood unmoving. Humming echoed through the halls.

“Ryan..”

“I know.. I-i know.

What time-”

“Four.”

“This is our purgatory, Shane.

We’re done for.”

“Don’t be so pessimistic.”

After what felt like hours the hulking form finally turned to leave.

Ryan sighed in relief.

“See?”

“Don’t jinx it Shane.”

“I’m sorry.”

He went quiet, eyes falling back on the screens as they watched Bonnie roam the halls. Chica had found her way back to the stage, Foxy was unmoving.

“Why are they moving? What do they want with us?”

“Stop asking questions I don’t have answers to!”

Ryan huffed out. He looked down at his feet, the golden badge glinting in his eyes as a thought hit him.

“William always came in dressed as a guard.

That was his MO.”

“And we’re the guards. What if they’re

scared of us?”

Ryan looked at Shane, dumbfounded.

“What if they are scared of us?”

“One hour left.” Someone from the crew informed.

“We have to get back to the front doors.”

A soft beeping began to ring out. Shane looked around for the source. In the corner of on of the screens a small red battery flashed in time with the beeping.

“We’re losing power.”

“To what?”

Shane shrugged.

“We’re not going to make it.”

“We’re going to make it.”

Something slammed against the door, a dent being pressed into it.

“We don’t get paid enough for this!”

“It’s Foxy, that bitch!

“Shane, you'll make him angier!”

“Yeah? Well he can suck it!

That’s right!”

“They’re kids!”

“Oh please..”

Another slam rang out, as the beeping grew louder, more urgent.

“Five thirty.”

“Shane what do we do?”

“We’re going to get to that door.

He’ll go away soon.”

The banging grew louder, and Ryan moved to cover his ears. He shrank back in his chair, eyes shut.

Despite all this he heard something in the back of his mind as images flash in his head.

It’s me

“Shane!”

Shane stood up, standing between Ryan and the door. The banging stopped. The fox walked away. Ryan relaxed a bit. Until the power went out, and the door opened again.

“We’re going to run for it.”

“We cannot do that!”

“We can.”

Shane grabbed Ryan’s arm and booked it down the halls, dragging Ryan behind him. Foxy wasn’t far off on their steps in the hall.

“Ryan run faster!”

“I ca- I can’t!”

He choked out. His eyes were on the small crew behind them, worried of who may be left behind. Chica met them at the end of the hall as she stepped out from the kitchen. Shane narrowly avoided hitting her dead on and led them into the main room.

“Look there’s the door!”

Ryan laughed in pitiful fear, and small relief. Until Bonnie stopped them in their tracks.

“Oh god, oh fuck.”

Chica, and Foxy had the crew trapped, the doors barely out of reach. All of the voices grew louder around them. Ryan clutched his hands over his ears, his eyes shut tight. He could feel his heart beating out of his chest, and Shane’s tight grip on him released.

“Shane?”

Ryan asked, refusing to open his eyes.

Shane looked at the animatronics as they circled the team. They were so close he couldn’t let it end like this. But he also couldn’t reveal himself. He panicked, his eyes began to turn a deep red as he looked around for another way out. But those kids, they wouldn’t get out of his head. They were so loud.

“OH JUST STOP IT”

He screamed, and they listened. The voices were silent, and Ryan opened his eyes. Shane grabbed his arm again and yanked him to the doors.

The owner opened them up just as Ryan and Shane made it back outside. Though Shane was prepared to barrel through the glass if necessary.

Ryan fell to his knees as they finally made it to the end, and laughed in morbid relief.

“Hey! You guys made it! Did ya have fun?” The owner smiled at them.

Shane helped Ryan up, and glared at the owner. He ripped the badge off his shirt, and slammed it against the man’s chest.

“We’re suing.”

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