Daryl Dixon - Blog Posts
A-Z characters
Letter: D
Darth Vader
Drusilla Blackthorn
Daryl Dixon
Would anyone still be willing to write short imagines about znation? I BEG. I really love this series but I don't have the creativity for it.
Been on my mind for a while- sorry for not posting in FOREVER 💔
But short drabble bc
⭑⭑⭑
The wind brushed against the fading green leaves, the trees lining a pathway deeper and deeper into the ever-growing scaping of plants and herbs and every so often a walker or more. The mindless chatter between you and Daryl dealt with everything and nothing, the conversation as flexible as the river that rushed so.
"Nah, that wouldn't work," Daryl huffed, his crossbow thrown over his shoulder and watching you a few paces ahead of him.
"You don't know!" You smile cheekily back at him, your arms out as you balance on the railroad, cracked and rusted from disuse, with small weeds growing inbetween the cracks and over it. "We could at least tr- oh, fuck-!" You startle, missing your footing and almost falling if not for Daryl quickly appearing by your side.
"You okay? Wha's wrong-" he looks down to see what could've startled you, falling quiet.
There, in the overgrown grass, simply grazing in all it's glory- a box turtle, eating a rather large beetle it found on the ground.
Daryl looked back at you, your shoulders square and a step behind the other man, watching the creature intently as if it insulted you personally. You saw the archer's lips twitch, likely biting back a small smile.
"...you jokin'?" His gruff voice finally rises, shifting the crossbow on his shoulder.
You bristled lightly. Who was he to judge? "Hey, turtles are freaky, okay? I'd rather not get biten from it, thanks." Maybe it was kinda irrational, but really, people downplayed turtles. They could be hella fast. And the way they bit? Mm, thanks, but no.
He gives a low chuckle that he fails to pass off as a cough, crouching down and carefuly tracing the yellow-black pattern of its shell as if to prove to you it was a harmless creature.
"Never thought I'd see you scared'a somethin' like a turtle," he teases, picking up the turtle. It immediately retreats to its shell on the touch, though its' sharp red eyes peek out from the pocket of where its' head is.
"Dixon, I swear-"
"Relax, 'm not gonna throw it at'chu," he rolls his eyes, looking at the boxed animal a moment longer before setting it back down. "Probably."
So stereotypical man knows how to fix stuff, yeah? Like, helping if the washing machine broke or the toilet or the sink has a leaky pipe.
Daryl does not know how to do this. He was never taught, understandably.
I think it'd make a cute drabble with Daryl x Reader where maybe one of the group [Alexandria era] is talking about how a pipe in their house is leaking and they all sorta maybe kinda glance at Daryl because he seems to know how to do a lot of stuff. And he just clams up awkwardly, before Reader mentions they know how to fix stuff like that and offer to do it for them.
And ofc later when Reader's fixing it, Daryl's watching as they narrate what they're doing.
It may or may not be hot to him
Okay I hope you don't mind but I'm gonna continue this because- uh- yeah ':]
☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆
"Heyyy, so...~" You slide to sit beside Daryl, watching as he started up a fire to cook the salmon you had... caught. The fish was still cold from the water of the river, its body motionless as it sat upon the wooden stump in use as a table.
"This might sound dumb-"
"You always sound dumb."
"Okay, shut up, first of all," you huff amusedly, shifting on the log and lightly bumping the archer's shoulders. "Let me speak. I, uh, don't know how to gut a fish."
Daryl glances back at you with a not-so-subtle skepticism, his lip twitching up a split moment. "So y'know how to grab a fish like a wild bear, but y'don't know what to do with it after?" He scoffs, looking back to the fire kindling.
"..no. Am I supposed to?" You roll your eyes, ignoring the small flush of embarrassment tinting your cheeks darker. "I just never had a reason to learn."
"Where'd'ja even learn to grab a fish like that, then? For fun?" The man hums with a low chuckle, the kindling catching spark and soon building to a proper fire.
You clear your throat, a beat of quiet passing in the air. Your lack of response makes Daryl look back at you a second, before giving a huff of laughter.
"You're *joking*," he teases, a part of him waiting for you to tell him you really were joking.
"Look, growing up was weird. Boredom does some stuff to'ya," you say defensively, but can't help but smile upon seeing the usually closed-off man laugh.
"'Kay, fine. C'mere." Daryl moves closer to you, pulling out his knife as the fire warms the two of you. That, plus the way your blood rushes when his knee lightly hits yours. You brush that off, however, forcing your attention to the archer now explaining how to clean the salmon.
"So first, t'chu oughtta scale the fish- y'take yer knife, n'just go against the flow of the scales. Comes off real easy most times. Then y'cut off the fins-"
You watch with a curiosity alike that of a child, the glint of metal and fish scales catching in the firelight, popping brightly as if also interested to watch the demonstration.
"-'n when'ya gut it, yer gonna cut from the anal fin to a few inches from th'mouth. Y'remove the intestines 'n shit from there."
Your eyes trace the way Daryl's hand moves so easily against the fish, the practiced precision of his movements a subtle sublime you find in him. The cuts are clean and quick, but you can tell he's trying to slow down so you can understand the process. It makes you fluster, shifting in your spot on the log right next to the archer. The world seems to grow hazy and peaceful, quiet overtaking you two as you simply take in what Daryl's teaching you. You can hear the soft, repetitive click of grasshoppers and the occasional pop of the firewood. The river that flows ever-so-strong a distance away, the whisper of leaves brushing against each other in the wind. It takes you a second to come back when Daryl huffs, adjusting himself almost embarrassedly.
"Hell you starin' for?"
You blink before flushing and realizing you've been staring at the man's face for probably a few good minutes, quickly distracting yourself with a nearby tree that was rather interesting now that you really looked at it-
"Wha- n-nothing. Pft."
Quiet wraps the two of you once more like a used wool blanket, awkward but nice in an odd sense. Daryl moves the cleaned fish over the fire to cook, and while the air seems strained, he takes his seat beside you again. The way his knee hits yours could easily be a coincidence, but it feels too deliberate to be so, biting back a small smile in trade for a soft chuckle.
Imagine you're out with Daryl needing some food and you come across a real nice river and you go 'I know how to fish!!' And instead of actual fishing like with a rod or whatever you use you straight up just jump in the river and grab them. It's efficient somehow but he just stares at you like
I'm?? Wow???? I love this so much seriously though I choked on my drink when I saw this thank you so much
Imagine you're out with Daryl needing some food and you come across a real nice river and you go 'I know how to fish!!' And instead of actual fishing like with a rod or whatever you use you straight up just jump in the river and grab them. It's efficient somehow but he just stares at you like
Something something yadda yadda where Daryl has Dog and you also have a dog but where he was expecting you to also have a large breed like a husky or a german shephard, you have a demonic chihuahua.
"What. The fuck."
"What?"
"Why-" he sighs, running a hand through his hair and watching as their two dogs meet, hoping they don't start a fight. "When you said you also had a dog, I kinda thought it would at least be more... practical."
You give a playful scoff, crouching down and cupping your chihuahua's face affectionately as if it didn't look like it would viciously bite the next person or thing it saw. "Practical? They're perfectly fine, aren't you, *mi perrito*?"
Daryl watches you with an amusing mix of confusion and reluctant acceptance, his own dog sitting tall by his side as if mildly offended at having met the much tinier creature.
I'd Rather Be Sleeping
Pairing- Daryl x GN! Medic! Reader
Summary- As tired as you are, it's still your job to help those who need it as medic. You're unsure whether to be grateful or not it's someone you're constantly bantering with, though.
TW- off-character Daryl? Mentions of blood and medical procedures
A/N~ wow I don't know how to conclude stories lol 😔 this was meant to be out like a week ago but I accidently just kept extending the story. Oh well!
The casual ruckus of being pulled around from place to place was an endless energy you were used to. Whether it be something as simple as a few scratches or having to amputate someone's arm without hesitation, you were there. With the way everybody always seemed to need you, being one of the few remaining doctors, it'd be easy to think you never got any rest. This is normally true. Not today, however.
You were, admittedly, quite proud of yourself as you sat back with a deep sigh. The plush of the couch was slightly rustic, but *so* much better than how you'd be on your feet. Moving quickly from place to place with adrenaline rushing through your system for hours at a time wasn't something you'd recommend for fun. You had, finally, for the first time in who knows how long, gotten some time to yourself. Where all other scrapes of time had been spent passed out on the nearest surface, sometimes even standing up, being able to just breath felt like watching a sunset on a Californian beach. Something beautiful that you had earned, a soft smile playing your lips as you felt your eyelids begin to weigh down.
The cool air still lingered with the heat of the day, mixing into almost a blanket-like warmth to the atmosphere. The sky faded into one of those classic pinkish-yellow pastels that you'd expect to see in those cheesy romance movies, but you couldn't complain. The soft colours were much nicer than the deep red of draining blood you saw oh-too-often. Old springs gave muffled creaks as you shifted on the faded sofa, welcoming the idea of a restful sleep you've been so deprived of for the past weeks.
Which you *would've had*, if not for the door shooting open like a stray bullet, startling you and almost toppling off the couch.
"So sorry to bug you, but, uhm- the archer guy just come back from their scavenging, and- well, he's not looking too good."
You stuff your face in the couch cushions and groan with a tired longing before forcing yourself up, rubbing your temples and brushing off the young recruit.
"Mhm, yeah," you mumble, your body fighting with the urge to just let the person go but knowing you had a job to do. Your feet moved quickly to the medical tent almost on instinct, already knowing who to expect there but holding onto that sliver of hope that maybe it was just your sleep-deprived mind playing with you.
No. Of course not. You were a doctor, it was your job to keep tabs on people who frequently visited. And Daryl Dixon was one of them.
Okay. Maybe you were overexaggerating how often he ended up in the medical tent, with the way he was so good on his own. And even if he did get injured, it was usually something small, or he patched himself up. But it only took you one time to watch him try to stitch a deep cut on his own that you decided, yeah, he needed more help than he'd let himself.
Your relationship was... *interesting*, to put it politely. You maybe pushed a bit too much to make sure he was alright, which resulted in pointless banter between the two of you often. But to be fair, it was for his own good! He claimed he didn't need help, you said he was gonna get himself infected. He got himself infected as you said, and you scolded him. He refused your medical knowledge for his pride and you tended to him in spite of it. The whole while throwing meaningless insults at each other. Regardless- there was still a mutual respect for the work you both did.
"Daryl," you greeted with that hint of fading tolerance you held special for him.
He only gave a quiet huff to acknowledge your presence, always hating 'wasting time' in the medical tent.
"Charming as ever, I see," you mutter under your breath, your eyes examining the man infront of you with a trained practice for any immediate signs of injury. It's not hard to notice the way he favours his right side, his lower left arm covered in blood and dirt and shrapnel and whatever else he got into in those woods.
You give a soft click of your tongue, not sure whether to ask what happened or make fun of the usually so-careful archer.
"'What, 'cha explode somethin' recently?" You give a soft scoff of amusement, moving beside him to begin taking out the shards impaling his skin. Your hands move with a careful though quick ease, noting the way Daryl tenses and takes a quiet breath in, though refuses to give any signs he's in pain.
"You'd be interested too if'ya saw a firework stand just waitin' there," He rolls his eyes as if the answer was obvious. "You can do a lot with a lighter. You certainly seem to know that," He teases, poking fun at the way you accidentally set your tent on fire last week. You could still feel the flickering hear of the flames that had grown much quicker than you had thought would've. Thankfully, there wasn't really any lasting damage beside some light burns on your hands and arms and getting scolded.
You give a light hum, a smirk playing on your lips as the air between you sparks with a playful challenge.
"Fireworks, huh? That's a shame, then. Maybe if you had stepped a bit closer-"
"Maybe if you had been in the stand when it happened-"
"Maybe if you had taken me with you, I would've-"
"Maybe if- *ow*-"
"Sorry."
You finished taking out the shrapnel, now cleaning the dirt and blood off with a rag. The sharp sting of hydrogen peroxide you used to help clean the wounds took Daryl off guard, the banter dropping from there.
Minutes passed in a comfortable silence as you worked, Daryl just watching with a faint interest as you applied some salve to the worst of the cuts and bruises.
"M'kay, well..." You hum, after a bit, taking a step back to check if you missed anything. "I'd say try to take it easy, but I doubt you'll do that."
Daryl stands up and stretches, your eyes darting away and trying to ignore the way his torn clothes and toned body is unfairly hot- what, who said that-
"'S jus'a few scratches. On'y reason I'm 'ere 's 'cause your little assistant got nervous," the archer spoke plainly, moving to stand at the entrance way of the medical tent. The sun had went from a bright, hot afternoon, to a more hazy evening. The sky dripped with pastels that faded into each other, seconds slowly dragging the sun down the horizon alike curtains closing on a performance. The bustle of the people usually constant had now lessened as daylight waned with the persistent progression of time.
"Kyle?" You chuckle softly, remembering the way the young protégé had burst into the room when you were so ready for some proper rest. He was definetly a bit jumpier than what you'd recommend for the tasks he wanted to learn, but he was so insistent and determined... who were you to deny one knowledge of healing? "He means well. Just a bit nervous," you summed up. Daryl just gave a quiet grunt of acknowledgement, silence falling onto both once more.
You leaned on a nearby tree that provided shade in the hotter days as the year grew closer to summer. The lack of talk between you two was normal- you didn't really need to to feel comfortable with the other- but today's seemed... different, in a way. The noiseless air stretched on, and you glanced at Daryl only to see him quickly look away when you caught his eye. He looked as if he wanted to say something. He had a lot recently- lingering near the medical tent, fidgeting with the hem of his torn jacket as if waiting for the right moment to approach you. But for the past week, you've been busy and tired and just looking for the next moment of rest. Looking back, you felt a bit bad you didn't pay as much attention as you usually did to the loner.
You shift in your spot, the silence evolving to be more awkward than before.
"...you alright?" You speak out of nowhere.
"What? Uh- yeah. 'Course," Daryl scoffed, shoving his hands in his pockets and watching as the sun began to dip on the edge of the sky.
"Riiiight," you hummed, though laying off on the question. Maybe another time. For now, all you could do was take in the fading daylight and finally let yourself rest.
Totally self indulgent but hey, that's the point, innit?
●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●
Daryl who has a western partner, who isn't used to snow. Waking up and they're just frozen [haha] in awe staring at the soft pieces of ice drifting from the sky. Asking why they need such heavy clothing until they actually get outside because they're so used to the temperature being high as hell. Daryl teasing about not being able to handle the cold, shivering like some wet cat.
Daryl with a western partner who'll casually slip in some Spanish without realizing it, because they grew up with a lot of mixed culture or they grew up Mexican themselves. Rolling their R's and having that slight accent that makes people question where exactly they're from. Daryl glancing at them with a subtle confusion when they mumble under their breath, "Where's the, uh- *cómo se llama, manzanas-* the apples?"
Daryl with a western partner who sometimes talks much too fast for everyone else to understand. Ranting about something they're excited about only to pause because everyone's staring like they just started speaking Martian. Daryl having to lightly nudge them midsentance because they don't realize they're *only getting faster* from excitement/anxiety/just fumbling with words.
Daryl with a western partner who bite back a laugh at their pronunciations. The two are out on a run and they're just talking when they just turn away with a muffled snicker, Daryl giving them a lightly offended 'what?'
"Wait, wait, just- repeat that."
"Repeat what? 'We need'a find som'more oil 'fore the night'?"
"Oh, darlin'. *'Ole?'*"
"Shut up. How do you say it?"
"Oil. Like oy-l."
"'S not two syllables, idiot."
In turn, Daryl also teasing them for the way they'll say 'like' a lot or say 'y'all'd've'.
Wildflowers
Pairing- Daryl Dixon x GN! Reader
Summary- Quiet memories and flowers
TW- none really, curses once or twice
▪︎●•°○○°•●▪︎▪︎●•°○○°•●▪︎▪︎●•°○○°•●▪︎▪︎●•°○○°•●▪︎
The pair looks across the open field, memories flooding back of when they had first met- you, half-dead all on your own, but alive. And Daryl, his crossbow pointed to your head and his eyes guarded as they always were. You both just stood there, tension crackling in the air as one waited for any sublte movement from the other. Your breath had caught when he shot, of course expecting the worst from this strange, roughed-up looking man. A muffled thud and rustle of grass behind you convinced you to breath again, noticing- wow. You weren't dead [somehow]!
It was quiet now, the air stinging with a sharp cold and the rotting smell of walkers that had passed through the area.
Despite the almost dead air, the sight was a needed break from the crumbled buildings and long-forgotten cities and towns you'd see every day. Wildflowers- pops of yellows and hazy blues grew with an enviable freedom, and the sun caught on the tips of the dense grass. The earthy scent in the air was noticable, subtle touches of wild mint and freshly watered grass. As if the world hadn't gone to shit. As if folks weren't dying everyday in horrific ways.
"I thought you were some fallen angel when I first saw 'ya," you tease quietly, the soft hush of wind a soothing whisper for peace, even if fleeting.
"I thought you were alrea'y dead," Daryl responded gruffly, his eyes on the horizon.
You give a soft chuckle. That was fair. Your body was caked in mud and blood- both yours and of walkers. Being all out on your own, focused on the slightest shuffle of feet that could mean life or death, you weren't exactly putting a lot of effort into lookin' pretty.
"Still," You continued, your eyes following the other's to the fading sky. "Why didn't you shoot me then?"
Silence once more draped the pair like a weather-worn blanket. You glanced at him, trying to figure out why he didn't answer. Did he just not hear? Was he ignoring you? Or maybe he just didn't have an answer?
You didn't get a response, as Daryl then began making his way back to the grazing horses you two had arrived on. You blinked, unsure if to be slightly offended or just sum it up to Daryl's odd personality, though followed him anyways. It's not smart to be out at night.
▪︎●•°○○°•●▪︎▪︎●•°○○°•●▪︎▪︎●•°○○°•●▪︎▪︎●•°○○°•●▪︎
A/N~ agrhagrgabsg haii! Thank you for reading! This is my first fic, so... wow! I got unneedingly nervous posting this.
I'm not entirely sure if this is just a drabble or the start to a fic, because, to be entirely fair, I am winging all of this [as I'm sure many of us are]. I also was trying to add images, but I couldn't figure out how to make them smaller. Sorry chat 😔. Hopefully more works like these soon, though [and taking less time]!
Is it just me or is watching these extra episodes of the Walking Dead Season 10 more painful than Season 8 of Game Of Thrones?
Yea, why would Daryl even consider abandoning his family that he’s formed over the span of 10 years for a woman he’s only known for a few months?
I’ve read better fan fiction
AMC you’re getting really sloppy. First that bullshit with the grenade last episode and now a forced relationship.
Oh honey, I got a whole list 🥰😂
I know a couple…
Pope Sweet Jesus- It's Daryl Dixon naked Lord Have Mercy and every woman who loves Daryl Dixon- MY PRAYER HAVE BEEN ANSWERED!!!! I found this pic on Facebook. Poor Daryl 😪
Spoilers (Ye been Warned)
I just want to say this now. LEAVE DARYL THE F*CK ALONE. IT’S NOT HIS FAULT. HE ONLY DID WHAT HE THOUGH WAS RIGHT! I MEAN IF YOU WERE EVEN HALF THE MAN DARYL IS SEEING A PSYCHOPATH SWING A BLOODY (no pun intended) BAT IN FRONT IF ONE OF YOUR FRIENDS FACES THEN YOU’RE GONNA JUMP THEM TOO. DARYL WAS SCARED, HE JUST SAW ONE OF HIS FRIENDS DIE AND NOW NEGAN WAS SWING THE BAT IN FRONT OF SOMEONE ELSE’S FACE. HE DIDN’T KNOW WHAT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN. HE DIDN’T KNOW IF THAT WAS IT OR IF NEGAN WAS GOING TO KILL SOMEONE ELSE SO HE WANTED TO TRY TO PREVENT THAT. I BET NONE OF YOU PUSSIES WOULD GET SHOT, LOOSE LOTS OF BLOOD, SEE ONE OF YOUR FRIENDS KILLED IN FRONT OF YOU AND STILL HAVE THE STRENGTH TO TRY AND STOP NEGAN. AND GLENN WOULD WANT MAGGIE AND HIS BABY TO HAVE A FUTURE WITH NEGAN GONE. SO ALL OF YOU HATERS OF DARYL READ MY LIPS. LEAVE…DARYL…ALONE!!!!! IT’S NOT HIS F*CKING FAAAAUUULLLLLLTTTTTTTT *starts to destroy room* LEAVE MY REDNECK ANGEL ALONE!!!!!!!!!! *runs at the tv screen and everything goes static*
So I got like an episode left of the Daryl Dixon The book of Carol and it makes me a tad sad that they gave him a love interest just for her to die 😩 Also I haven't posted on my Walking Dead Imagines book yet Buttttt I do have a Chapter Ready and I'm currently writing more, I was gonna post one a while back but things came up and I got busy so go to my Wattpad and comment on my Authers note for which Character you want first, also should I also post them on here too?
Nightly Encounter
Carl Grimes x Reader
Characters mentioned: Carl, Daryl, Michonne, Rick, Judith, Eugene, Carol, and Rosita
⚠️SPOILERS FOR SEASON 8-9⚠️
Warnings: Extreme angst, mentions of suicide, depressed reader, eating disorder
"(Y/N), turn around."
You were fidgety. This was a new territory, a new level of trust that Carl was putting in you. You knew you couldn't say no the minute he'd asked. He felt comfortable enough to show you the thing he hated most about himself. All in hopes that you would love that part of him too.
And of course you would, it wasn't even a question. But what if you said the wrong thing? What if you stared for too long, what if you looked away too fast? All these 'what ifs' ran through your head, making it impossible to think clearly. 'Calm down,' you told yourself, 'you're turning this into a bigger deal than it is.'
You heard the sound of his bandages being removed and the bed shifting under his weight. You waited for him to give you the sign that he was ready. When he did, you turned around slowly to make sure not to scare him. His head was looking downwards, his hair was in his face. You couldn't see anything but by the slump of his shoulders you knew he was terrified. You could practically hear his heart beating a mile a minute from where you were standing on the opposite side of the room.
You went to sit down on the bed and you grasped Carl's hands, inviting him to look at you. Once he put his head level with yours, you slowly reached out for the long hair that framed his face and you moved it away from his face.
What lie under it was the scar that had hurt him more emotionally than physically. It was large and took up most of the right side of his face, but you couldn't help but feeling as though it was beautiful. It was beautiful because it was a part of him.
"I'm sorry."
Those words shattered your heart when he said them aloud. Sorry for what? He had nothing to be sorry for. He had lost his eye courageously. He had lost his eye but not his smile. He had lost his eye, but not himself.
"Carl. You have nothing to apologise for. I think you're beautiful."
He looked up in pure shock and furrowed his brow. "What are you talking about?! I have a hole in my head!" He angrily pushed his bangs back into his face and sprang up from the bed.
"Carl!" You called out after him, grabbing his wrist. He stopped and turned to look at you. He was fuming now, you could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. "Carl," you repeated, much kinder this time, "sit down. Please."
He sat down on the bed and folded his arms.
"Carl. Thank you so much for trusting me with this. I understand it's such a hard burden to carry but you don't have to carry it by yourself anymore. I think you're just as handsome as you were before. Maybe even more handsome. I love you and I wouldn't care if you shot out your other eye, I would love you just the same." You pushed the bangs back away from his gaping wound and you kissed his forehead, holding his head in your hands. "Please, never forget that."
He stopped being so tense and nuzzled into your touch. This was a lot of trauma to relive at once and you understood it was going to take more time for him to open up. But you were ready to be there for him when he did.
"I love you, (Y/N). Sorry for keeping my emotions from you for so long."
"Again, you have nothing to apologise for, Grimes. I love you and that won't change."
...
You played back the memory in your head. It seemed like a millennia ago that you were holding him in your arms like that. When the worst thing you guys had to worry about was a scar.
You tugged on the grass a little as you laid down on your chest. Your face was pressed against the grave of Carl, to your heart aching to hold him in the way you did before. To tell him that that stupid scar wasn't going to change anything because it didn't. It made you love him even more. Crazy how losing things like that makes your love stronger. Only this time, you'd lost him.
Your tear stained cheeks were starting to get itchy as you prepared yourself to stay another night with Carl. Everyone else was busy, even Rick who had somehow gotten over Carl's death so quickly. It felt shameful to you that he could lose someone so important and then continue as though there were more important matters.
You were ready. Ready to die. Carl was the last thing you'd had in this world and now that he was gone, you and wanted to have no part in it. This cruel world that was based on survival. This cruel world that killed the last beacon of hope. This cruel world that killed Carl Grimes.
Again, more tears came. It had to be almost a week now. You've refused to eat, drink, socialize, or even leave Carl alone. You couldn't. He was right there yet so far away. You could feel yourself slipping sometimes, fading in and out of sleep that was haunted with nightmares of your long-gone lover.
"Hey. I can't let ya stay out here any- jesus (Y/N)! When was the last time you've eaten?!" Daryl came up from behind, sitting down on the grass-Carl's grass- beside you.
...
The moon shone over the trees and cast a pale glow over the gazebo Carl led you to. His hand was in yours as he dragged you to his favorite spot in Alexandria. The place where he could see the stars the easiest.
"Just a little further..." Once you reached the small structure, he offered you his knee so you could climb up on the roof. It wasn't all that tricky, considering the gazebo was only a few feet up. You climbed up to the top and offered your hand to Carl but he denied it as he tried to climb up himself. 'Show-off' you thought as you smirked and laid on the patchy wooden roof.
You heard a grunt as Carl laid next to you, brushing the bangs out of his good eye. He grabbed your hand and looked at you before looking up above. You had to admit, the stars were beautiful and since light pollution was no longer a problem, there was more that you guys could see. But your focus wasn't on the stars, no. It was on Carl. The way that he looked at the world not knowing that your world was him. You could see the reflection of the stars in his eye, but they were there all the time. The boy really held the universe in him and he would change this cruel world one day. He had to.
When he noticed you staring, he scooted in closer.
"Whatcha thinking about?" He asked, a knowing look on his face. He knew that whenever you were lost in thought he'd be the one to bring you back down to earth.
"You. As usual," you smiled and pushed his hat over his eyes,
"All I ever think about is you."
...
"(Y/N)? Are ya listening?"
You forgot Daryl was sitting beside you and not Carl. You grunted as you tried to sit up but found that you didn't have the energy. It must've been days since you've gotten any food or sleep.
"Yeah. I'm listening." You replied but you knew you couldn't. No one could ever pierce your thoughts and knock the sense in you that you needed to hear. You were a thousand miles away.
"Look," Daryl sighed and played with the denim of his vest, "I know things are hard. But I also know this isn't what he woulda wanted. Carl was brave. He worked to keep this place safe....to keep you safe. He wouldn't want to see ya like this." Daryl leaned in and placed a hand on your shoulder. "I don' like seeing ya like this."
You could barely hear him over the rushing of your thoughts. Carl wouldn't have wanted you to live without him, right? You started this world together and you were supposed to end it that way. He got the chance to leave it first, but that shouldn't mean you should go about your days pretending that everything is fine. Nothing could be fine without him. He was your world and it didn't matter what Daryl would say, or Rick, or Michonne, or anyone else for that matter. Because your world had been taken from you twice. All because of those stupid flesh-eating bastards.
...
"(Y/N)!"
You woke up with a start. The grass you were laying on was covered in dew, meaning that it must've rained while you fell asleep after your talk with Daryl.
You reached for your knife, only to find that it wasn't there. Your eyes searched the area looking for it when you saw him.
His boots were all scuffed and muddy, his jeans were ripped and his gun holster was at his side, also empty. His long brown hair was bushy and his hat sat atop his head, exactly in the position you remembered it. Because right before you was Carl Grimes. The love of your life.
"(Y/N), can you hear me?"
Your whole body went into shock and before you knew it you started crying. Tears streamed down your face like never before as you watched him sit down next to you, reaching out to hold you. You sat in his arms for a few minutes as you let it all out, finally conveying the depression you had felt for days.
"Shhhh it's alright."
You suddenly stopped and got a grip on what was happening. Was this real? Carl had gotten bit by a walker. Surely there was no way he has suddenly come back to life to give your pathetic body a hug.
"What happened?? How are you here?" You uttered in disbelief.
He smiled. "(Y/N). I wanted you to find a home here. I don't want you to keep grieving my death. Alexandria is safe now and you're free to live again. Please don't give up because of me." He rubbed your back and pushed his hat up. "You would say the same if our positions were switched."
At this, you fell limp. Of course. What have you been doing all this time? You'd been so wrapped up in the death of your lover you forgot there were other people you had to care for. Rosita, Michonne, Eugene, Carol, Daryl, and even Judith. This was your home. This was a place where you didn't have to suffer from the harshness of the outside world. You could've been helping with the runs and cleaning but instead you were here and as much as you loved him, you knew Carl was right.
"I'm sorry, I- I just-" you held back your tears "living in this world without you- it's hard. I promised myself that there wouldn't be a day where I wouldn't wake up next to you. I love you so much. I- I'm sorry I couldn't save you." The last part came out in a rush. The words hurt you to say as much as they hurt Carl to hear.
"Hey. Listen to me." He titled your chin upwards so that you were looking at him. "What happened was not your fault, okay? It was mine and mine alone. I'm so sorry that I left you here. I should've been more careful. But I promise you're not alone. I'll be here with you everywhere you go. And I'll still be here when I'm just a memory. When you find someone else I'll be here cheering you on. When you have children I'll watch over them too. When you get old, I'll be waiting for you on the other side so that you have nothing to fear. I promise." He slid his hand into yours and wiped away your tears. You smiled- actually smiled as you caught a glimpse of his face for the last time.
"There's no way you'll ever be just a memory, Carl Grimes."
And then he faded away.
...
The lights in the infirmary stung your eyes as you opened them. You weren't lying outside anymore, and instead you found yourself in a bed wrapped in one of Carl's flannels.
You caught a glimpse of someone standing outside your doorway. "Hey- what happened?" You asked to no one in particular. You just wanted to know why you'd been moved.
The man standing in the doorway was none other than Daryl who had visited you that night. He was looking more healthy than usual, although he could use a good night's sleep. His bags were becoming more and more prominent.
He made his way over to your bed and sat down at the end of it, careful to leave you enough space. "Could've died last night. Your heart almost stopped."
This stopped you from asking anymore questions. So what happened last night wasn't a dream? Carl was really there? You had come face to face with death without even realizing it.
"(Y/N)-" Daryl began but you stopped him.
"I saw him."
Daryl's eyes grew wide. "Ya did?" He turned around so that he was looking directly into your eyes. "What'd he say?"
You smiled.
"I have a reason to keep living, Dixon."
Gifs aren't mine, thank you for reading <3
Can I have a request for Daryl smut, where he has always been kind of a closed off and always during sex would keep his shirt on not wanting you to see his scars but one night you walk into your guys bedroom(during Alexandra time) while he’s getting changed and he freezes pretty much and you show him how much you love every part of him including his scars. @ me plz!
Scars
Pairing: Daryl x gf!Reader
Masterlist!
Rating: 18+
Warnings:Trama, Walkers,smut,Praise Kink,Talk about Scars, Fluff
A/n: this is my first smut so sorry if there are mistakes or that it sucks
Hearing the gates close behind you and Daryl as you guys make your way to Maggie and Rick who take the dead rabbits and dear you guys have managed to find surprisingly, it took five hours but it was worth it. You and the others meet up to talk about who’s going on the supply run tomorrow when Daryl and Rick say they’ll go and take a couple other men just to be safe,after discussing what’s going to happen, you all head back to your homes for the day. You and Daryl walk inside. Daryl sits down and starts cleaning his bow while you cook dinner for the both of you.
——
After finishing the food you grabbed a bowl for you and Daryl and sat down in front of him after handing him his bowl. “What time are you guys going on the supply run tomorrow?” You ask hoping he’ll be home by the time you wake up. “Early mornin but I don’t know what time I’ll be back hopefully before yer awake” he reply’s before getting up and putting his plate in the sink after finishing his soup and you do the same and wash them and put them away. “Okay let’s get some sleep then so you can wake up early enough” you say walking upstairs to your room. Taking off your holster with your knife and gun in it, putting it on the dresser and changing into a big shirt and shorts and head into the bathroom to brighten your teeth,closing the door behind you so Daryl can get changed.You come out after hearing Daryl lay down and you go around to your side and lift the blankets to lay underneath them and cuddle into Daryl’s side with your head on his chest. You say your goodnights before falling asleep.
————————
The next morning you wake up feeling around the bed expecting Daryl to be on his side of the bed but no luck when you’re met with nothing but coldness. You get up and get dressed,strapping your knife into your holster,before heading out of yours and Daryl’s house.You greet Maggie taking over your shift for look out.
Few hours go by when you hear the sound of a motorcycle, telling the guys below to open the gates while getting down from your spot, You go ask how the supply run went when you see Daryl is all covered in dirt and blood.After a short conversation with the others you take Daryl to your guys house knowing he needs a shower after all that.giving him some privacy you leave your room for him to shower. You’ve always left when he would take off his shirt,he was very insecure about it and you didn’t wanna make him feel uncomfortable and feel like he had to tell you what happened. Every since you started dating him he would always leave his shirt on even during sex. It didn’t bother you of course it didn’t,but you wondered what happened and why he doesn’t take off his shirt but you don’t wanna push him,so you always drop it. Fifteen minutes later you walk back into your room,usually he’s done and dress by then, but upon opening the door you see him just now finally getting his shirt off,he freezes hearing the door open,turning his head. You walk over to him and run your hand down his back feeling every scar. “Disgusting aren’t they?” Daryl grumbles turning his head away from yours not wanting to look at you. “Their not gross,there part of who you are and what you have been through”, you place soft kisses to every scar. You pull away and grab his hand going into the bathroom and turning on the water. Taking your own clothes off you step in the shower telling him to get in too, after finally convincing him,you grab a rag and start to wash his body. After finishing everything, you look up at him seeing that he’s watching you with admiration and lust. You kiss him softly then he pulls you into him and deepens the kiss making it urgent with need. He picks you up and you wrap your legs around his waist. His firm cock getting in contact with your skin got a low moan from him, the sound muffled by your mouth locked on his. Desperate for air, you pulled away, panting. His mouth shot to your throat, kissing and sucking on all your tender spots he passed so much time mentally mapping. The head of his cock teased your entrance, a buck of your hips telling him your ready. His hard shaft slowly got in with ease, you walls tighten around him with ease. It was there that he truly felt at home, in you to the tilt, connected to you in the most intimate way and allowed to share every feeling with you without any shame. With each trust your panting accelerated and your moans became louder. Music to his ears, your voice encouraged him to go faster and deeper, reaching spots that he knew would get you to your climax and get him over the edge with you. You lay your head into his neck as the water runs down you guys, sucking on his neck softly telling him how much you love him,every part of him. His thrusts are slow but filled with lust and love. He moves his head into your neck and cries softly into your neck allowing his walls to break down, him repeating over and over again that he loves you. You clench around him reaching your climax as you hold his closer knowing he’s close too. “Let go baby,please I wanna feel you” you moan feeling your climax take over you as you cum, along with Daryl feeling him let go into you not wanting to let you go. Resting your forehead against his you hear him mumble,not understanding him you ask him to repeat it. “Ma’ry me?” Daryl mumbles again to you hoping you hear him. Not expecting him to ask you think look look at him in shock but lean down and kiss him before nodding your head yes. Closing your eyes having everything you wanted right in front of you even though right outside those walls the world is shit and everything can change any second.
Request asked by: @mxltislasher
I will start making a tag list ask if you want to join it!I added random people sorry if you don’t want to be added just ask me to take you off!
@darylsgirl @daryldixonstorm @daryldixon @daryldixontwd @dixonextracts @haruhey @alisonsfics @starlessea
Walking Dead Spinoffs
I'm a big fan of the walking dead in general. I played the Telltale games several times and my favourite character of literally all time is Ben Paul from season 1. I've watched the show dozens of times and it is in my top 3 shows. (Super disappointed with how the new walking dead game came out - loved the concept of changing the story, but the way they went about it was terrible).
But I found the spinoffs incredibly boring. It might have something to do with the fact that you have to wait a week for every episode, so when I find the first few episodes boring, I'm not bothered to wait and watch the next episode when it comes out. (This has nothing to do with impatience by the way, at one point I was watching Abbott Elementary, The Righteous Gemstones, The White Lotus AND Yellowjackets, all of which are fantastic shows and all had episodes releasing every week).
I watched season 1 of Dead City and remember nothing besides the basic plot of Hershel. I do not plan on continuing the show for season 2.
I watched I think the first two episodes of We're the ones who live before I quit, because again, I was incredibly bored. I love Rick and was so excited to see him back on screen with Michonne, but I got so bored so fast.
I watched the first 3 episodes of Daryl Dixon before I got bored and stopped watching, nor do I plan on continuing. I'm also not into the idea of romance for Daryl, which I had a feeling was gonna happen in like episode 1 with the bath scene.
Controversial opinion; but I will literally only watch Dead City season 2, but ONLY IF Negan and Maggie kiss. I fear that is the only way I would ever watch the show again, because it would be the biggest plot twist in the entire universe and the entire fanbase would quite literally implode out of rage.
Beth is one of the few people he could be emotionally open with, and except physical comfort from. Like when she hugged him at the shack, she was pressed against his entire back, and he didn't flinch away from her or try to pull away. And if he did, it wasn't because he didn't trust her it would be because he didn't want her to see him cry. If anyone else tried to do that at that stage of his character, I don't think he would have accepted it.
I understand why some people don't like them as a ship. The age gap is there obviously, but he never interacted with her until the prison (that I can remember). She never did anything besides being there for him or helping in any way she could.
I know she had an attitude, but who wouldn't? She watched her father die in front of her and her home be torn apart, and the only person she had left wasn't talking to her, and when he would, it was much of a conversation.
Her death hit him hard regardless, I think she was the last straw for him. Her dying was the way she did in front of him, and him not being able to do anything broke apart of him. He shut himself away from everyone, and he hurt himself because he was guilty and sad and definitely angry.
But I don't think if she had lived, they would have gotten together as fast as some think. If it had happened, it would have been a slow burn.
The point is he loved her, and she loved him. People can say they had a sibling relationship, but I have siblings, and I would never look at them the way they looked at each other.
Ok ok I'm going to rant about Daryl and Beth so buckle up.
I think Daryl always had feelings for Beth but he stayed away because of her age.
Beth most likely had feelings for him too, because no girl would just hug a man who she "barely" knows.
The heart eyes!!!!!!
The way that he softened up with her, and talked to her.
The heart eyes!!!!!
The was he gently touches her arm, when she was picking the berries.
He knew what he said was wrong, but in times of grief and heartbreak people always say things that they don't mean, it's just being human.
The heart eyes!!!!!
The soft touches on her arms and when she hurt her ankle.
The way he looked at her when she was sitting in her room at the prison, that was the look of a man in love.
The way he watched her when she was singing and playing the piano.
He would do anything to protect her, and she would have done the same.
When he said that they could stay at the funeral home.
Just everything about their relationship makes me so happy.
Bonus: Hershel liked Daryl and knew he would protect his daughters. And definitely knew that Daryl was falling for Beth, and he respected how he stayed away when she was younger.
Another Bonus: Merle would have treated Beth and Maggie like little sisters because he knew that Daryl had feelings for the blonde.