I cried because I was eating pizza and scrolling through Tumblr when I came across two posts.
One, of that map thing queried, showing the stories of queer Palestinians.
The other, videos of Palestinians singing a song about how they will stay where they are. A song of freedom.
Because I could sit in my bed, eat warm oven bake pizza, and scroll past posts of Gazans and Palestinians in pain, but they can't scroll past their pain.
They cannot scroll past the memory of their parents being killed
Past the memory of the girl hanging of the side of a building with her legs in ribbons
Past the memory of having to call their friends phone to find their body under the rubble.
Free Gaza.
Free Gaza so that they may sing of their freedom, not of their fear.
From the river to the sea, and free Palestine until it's backwards.
A/N: if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post
NSFW Alphabet: Daryl Dixon
A - Aftercare (what he’s like after sex)
At first, aftercare is pretty much unknown territory to Daryl. Having never been properly cared for, taking care of somebody else is something new, awkward and somewhat scary, so to begin with he’ll just hold you. By the time he’s comfortable enough around you to go all the way, he’ll have held you a fair few times, so he’s confident doing that, he knows what he’s doing. In those first few times, Daryl’s also as gentle as he can possibly be with you, so you dont need all that much aftercare from him. Still, sometimes you’ll try a new position and your muscles will ache and lock up, Daryl will massage you anywhere without even acknowledging how intimate that is because he purely sees it from a survival perspective of your muscle aches rendering it more difficult for you to get away from walkers, or people, if you need to.
Once he’s more comfortable with sex, Daryl’s aftercare develops, but it’s...different. Presuming you’re at Alexandria, he’ll wordlessly run you a bath and get all blushy when you thank him, and by the time you’re out of the bath, he’ll have made you soup and picked you a little flower from outside. He’ll still cuddle you and give massages if you need them, but Daryl slowly grows more comfortable with gestures that show he loves you and is endlessly grateful that you love him the same, as much as he struggles to believe you do.
B - Body Part (his favourite body part of yours/your favourite of his)
He adores every single part of you, but Daryl’s favourite part of your body is your hands. The countless times your hands have reached for him to offer him comfort and to receive it from him; the gesture that gives him the honour of being the one you reach for, the impossible power you have to calm him with a simple touch. And the closer the two of you get, the more your hands come in contact with him, and the more he falls head over heels for you. Nobody has ever touched Daryl Dixon so gently, treated him like he’s something worth treasuring and taking care of, you are the first to show him how that feels, and that means his heart is yours forever.
Daryl is a decently insecure guy, and even after you’ve helped his self esteem, he doesnt think of himself as anything outstanding, so he doesnt really see a point in having a favourite part of himself. If he had to choose, though, he’d probably say his hair, and that’s purely because he cant get enough of you playing with it.
C - Cum (anything related to cum)
As a very intimately shy person, and a shy person in general, Daryl is VERY embarrassed about cumming in front of you. Up until he’s about to do it, he pretty much dreads it, but with enough praise and encouraging dirty talk from you, he gets too close to care and he’ll cum pretty much wherever is most convenient at the time.
D - Dirty Secret
Daryl doesnt really have a dirty secret. He’s initially embarrassed and shy about anything and everything sexual with you, but over time he becomes more comfortable with it all, and he’s as open as he can be with you. He doesnt believe in keeping secrets from you.
E - Experienced (how experienced is he/does he know what he’s doing)
Aside from a few drunken one night stands that Daryl doesnt even remember, he’s very inexperienced. The mere thought of intimacy terrifies him, anyone seeing his naked body, performance anxiety, literally every single aspect of it is horrifying to him. That being said, falling in love with you teaches him what intimacy is really all about, and it changes Daryl’s whole outlook.
F - Favourite Position
He’s a big fan of missionary because he gets to be on top of you which makes him feel like he’s shielding you, but Daryl will almost always have his face buried in the crook of your neck, kissing and biting, groaning in your ear. Of course, he’d love to look at your face while he pounds you, but he feels like he can focus better when his face is hidden, otherwise he gets shy about you looking at him.
Daryl also really enjoys doggy style. It feels good, you arent looking at him so he can focus, and he gets a great view of you. The only reason it isnt his favourite is because he feels like he doesnt get to feel as much of your body, it isnt as intimate or romantic as missionary is to him.
G - Goofy (is he more goofy/serious in the moment)
Daryl isnt really goofy at all. He’ll scoff and chuckle at the goofy things you’ll sometimes say, and he’ll have some sassy one-liners on occasion, but Daryl isnt ever goofy.
H - Hair (how well groomed is he)
Before getting intimate with you, he let that shit grow, he didnt care whatsoever. The first time things escalate between you, Daryl backs out when he suddenly remembers the mess down there, and he makes the decision to keep himself trimmed out of fear of you being disgusted by him or it being an inconvenience to whatever you want to do to him.
I - Intimacy (how romantic is he during the moment)
Verbally, Daryl isnt the most romantic, because words arent his strong suit. In every aspect of the physical experience, Daryl is romantic as hell. Always giving you the tiniest, gentlest kisses on your face, tracing his fingertips down your stomach, holding your hand, doing everything in his power to make you feel protected and comfortable.
J - Jack Off (masturbation)
Daryl doesnt really masturbate unless he really cant resist. Up until meeting you, he pretty much disconnected himself from sexuality completely, so masturbation didnt even cross his mind. When he meets you, though, things change, and suddenly certain aspects of you drive him so crazy he cant resist.
K - Kink (one or more of his kinks)
Daryl Dixon absolutely has a praise kink. Poor man has gone his entire life being beaten and belittled constantly, nothing will get to him more than words of affirmation, especially when he’s being so vulnerable with you.
L - Location (favourite place to do the deed)
In bed, easy. Comfortable, safe, hidden away. Daryl would be MORTIFIED if someone caught him even partially undressed outside of his house, let alone completely naked and raw doggin’ you.
M - Motivation (what turns him on)
You being in the mood will get him riled up the quickest, but aside from that, if Daryl is away for a while, he’ll want you so bad when he gets home to you. If anything bad happens to you, him, or the place you’re staying, Daryl will initiate some super intensely romantic intimacy, without a doubt.
N - No (something he wont do)
Hurt you. After being abused through his childhood, Daryl cannot bring himself to harm you, so spanking or slapping of any kind is out of the question, it makes him feel too much like his father.
O - Oral (does he prefer giving/receiving, skill, etc)
As much as he will fall apart having you suck him off, Daryl is a big fan of giving. Given that he struggles with words, actions are his preferred way of showing his affection for you, so he takes great care in pleasuring you as much as humanly possible. Daryl will gladly pleasure you until his hands and jaw cramp up, and he wont complain once.
P - Pace (is he fast and rough/slow and sensual)
Slow and sensual to begin with, rougher and faster the longer the two of you go on for. If he’s feeling particularly sad about something, he’ll be slow throughout, taking his time loving you.
Q - Quickie (his opinion on quickies rather than proper sex)
Daryl has no real problem with quickies. They arent ideal, but in the world you two live in, he’s all too aware of how little time you seem to have on occasion, so he’ll take what he can get. Any time with you is time he’ll cherish, doesnt matter how long it is.
R - Risk (is he game to experiment/take risks)
The word “risk” sets Daryl on edge, and for good reason considering the state of the world. That being said, he’s willing to give anything you suggest a try, so long as it doesnt involve hurting you. Whatever Daryl can do to pleasure you more, he’ll give it a shot before completely opposing it.
S - Stamina (how many rounds can he go for/how long does he last)
Mans is on regular hunts where he’s on his feet for literal days on end, in a world where he’s head to run from the dead constantly - trust me, he can go a few rounds.
T - Toys (does he own toys/use them on a partner/himself)
The only sex toy Daryl has even heard of is a dildo, and he doesnt own one. He’s never had any interest, and he’d probably give you a funny look if you brought one in the bedroom, but he’d try his best to use one on you, following your instructions to the best of his ability. Daryl’s a man on a mission when you bring something new into the bedroom.
U - Unfair (how much of a tease is he)
The thing is, Daryl is totally unaware that he radiates raw sex appeal, so he’s a tease without even trying, and he gets you riled up without even realising it. He’s always in disbelief with himself when you come up to him practically whining.
V - Volume (how loud is he/what sounds does he make)
Daryl isnt very vocal, mainly quiet grunts and moans, and the occasional “ya like that, baby?” or “feels so good, angel, goddamn” type dirty talk. Words arent his strong suit, but he’ll be damned if he doesnt at least try to return the praise you give him.
W - Wild Card (random hc)
He’s possessive. Loves referring to you as his, but what he loves more is you calling yourself his, in any capacity, but especially in intimate moments. Daryl isnt toxic, he’s just a little animalistic from spending so much of his life outside, so if he sees anyone trying to take what’s his, or hurt what’s his, he’ll lose his fucking mind.
X - X-Ray (how much is he packin lmao)
Daryl’s packing. Just above average in length, pretty thick, slaps his lower stomach when set free.
Y - Yearning (how high is his sex drive)
Before meeting you, his sex drive is non-existent. It didnt suddenly control him the moment he met you, it only really ignites when you’re needy for him. Daryl’s ready and raring to go the second you are, but it isnt on his mind constantly, he mostly spends his time daydreaming about all the times he’s made you laugh without meaning to.
Z - Zzz (how quickly does he fall asleep afterwards)
Daryl doesnt fall asleep for awhile after sex, even late at night. He’ll lie awake, holding you in his arms, staring up at the ceiling and replaying every moment with you in his mind, smiling softly at his personal favourites. He likes to take the time to think, and to really appreciate how much you’ve changed his whole world, how you’ve become it.
A/N: if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post
Cuddling Daryl Would Include
- so, Daryl Dixon is a bitch for cuddles. that goes without saying but is very much still worth saying
- however cuddling takes TIME, he’s gotta warm up to you a lot first
- and if you expect HIM to make the first move? hA! you waitin to die of old age too, gumdrop?
- bless him
- anyway
- Daryl is a very attentive lover, he pays very close attention to every aspect of you, even before you’re together. he cant help it, he feels this magnetic, gravitational pull to you
- he makes a mental note of things that have made you smile, jokes you have found funny, the kinds of reassurance you appreciate
- and he realises that you like giving people hugs, including him
- the first time you hugged Daryl it was like that Spongebob episode where there’s tiny Spongebobs running around inside his head and everything’s on fire and they’re all screaming but Daryl’s just standing there like 0.0
- but then he gingerly hugs you back and in a few seconds he relaxes and awh what a cutie
- but y’all werent even together then and that wasnt a cuddle so that isnt technically part of this SO
- cuddles first happen when you’re sitting next to him on his porch one night. you’re facing the street, but he’s sitting to the side, facing you
- and you’re like *sigh* and he’s like “What?” and you’re like “Well-“ and then you rest your head on his shoulder and he’s once again 0.0
- once you notice him relax, you lean into Daryl a little more, and he gets brave enough to wrap an arm around you and pull you closer, so your head is on his chest rather than his shoulder
- and he’s like dang I been missin out on THIS are you KIDDIN me????
- and you’re like *sigh* and he’s like “What now?” and you’re like “This is nice.”
- again technically not a cuddle but Daryl counts as a cuddle so your cuddle judging is invalid go away
- as a certified cuddling champion, cuddling comes naturally to you
- literally. if you dont fall asleep cuddling Daryl then you can trust that as soon as you are asleep, you’ll be snuggling him and he’s like smh this cute ass
- at first, even tho you’re asleep he doesnt cuddle you back. cuz he’s scared, but also cuz he cant tell if you actually want to hug him cuz you’re asleep and he doesnt want you to wake up in his arms feeling uncomfortable
- but one day you ask Daryl about it and tell him that you absolutely want to cuddle him all the time wtf how does he even think u think otherwise wh???
- so that night, when you’re asleep and you snuggle into him, Daryl pulls you closer and wraps his arms around you
- he stares down at you for a while, brushing strands of hair out of your face to admire you, but his fingertips dont stop caressing your face even when he can see it clearly
- you’re just so damn beautiful, and he truly cant understand how of all the people left in the world, you gave your heart, and your cuddles, to him
- but Daryl couldnt be more grateful that you had
- his personal favourite cuddling positions involve him holding you, usually. Daryl likes to know you’re safe, and considering he would quite literally take a bullet or a bite or both for you, he knows you’re safest whenever you’re shielded in his arms
- but sometimes, he just needs you to hold him. on days like that, he cant always put it into words. you’ve been helping him verbalise his feelings, but sometimes he still struggles, and that’s often how you can tell when he needs you, so you dont wait for him to try and get the words out again. you just take him over to the nearest couch or bed to cuddle, or if there’s neither of those available you’ll let him drop his head to your shoulder and you’ll hold him while he falls into you
- you’ve really made up for all Daryl’s touch starved years, and be cant believe he survived so long without knowing how perfect your cuddles felt
A/N: if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post
Love Like This
Daryl was used to quiet nights even before the world ended. Spending most of his life out in the wild, he was accustomed nights falling asleep to the sound of crickets in the wind and nothing else.
Somehow, the silence within the walls of Alexandria felt completely different. There was no comfort in the quiet here, no peace and sense of home, not for Daryl, at least, not most of the time.
He sits on the porch steps, staring down at a clean, concrete street. Not like the ones beyond the walls with overgrown grass beginning to crowd their edges, these were well kept front yards of a suburbia straight out of Daryl Dixon’s nightmares. At night, this place genuinely felt like a horror movie, ominously dark except for the lights still on behind the windows of a few houses, while the occupants of the rest had already settled in for the night, unburdened by the world they barely acknowledged had ended around them. The stark contrast of the mud and blood that caked Daryl’s clothes and skin would be the only tell to anyone here that this place was isolated, safe. He stuck out just as much as he always felt he had in the old world and he hated it.
The front door behind Daryl opens and closes gently, but he doesnt turn to face the sound, the presence joining him is expected. You lower yourself down on the porch steps beside him, wearing a pair of pyjamas that looked so soft in the corner of Daryl’s eye, and he could see you had one blanket wrapped around your shoulders with another one neatly folded in your arms. Leaning to the side, you bump your shoulder with his.
“Hey.”
Your voice is barely above a whisper and Daryl only hums in response, tipping his nose up as he lights a cigarette and brings it to his lips.
“You’ll make my blanket stink of smoke, asshole.” You joke lightheartedly, causing the brooding man beside you to huff the softest laugh.
“Sorry.”
Sighing dramatically, you look up at the stars. “As usual, no harm done. Truth be told, I probably cant even smell your cigarettes anymore, they’re imbedded in all of these.” Lifting your arms with fistfuls of cotton cloth, you gesture to the blanket before wrapping it back around yourself and picking up the other blanket in your lap. “Thought I’d bring you one this time, it’s starting to get cold out.”
Daryl side eyes the neatly folded blanket as you hold it out to him, shaking his head. “Naw, cant take that.”
You frown at him. “Why not?”
Daryl glances down at his filthy trousers, knowing he doesnt need to point out that the rest of his clothes are equally dirty. He cant believe it, but he actually feels a little embarrassed when he realised he’s probably left a muddy stain on the porch.
Pulling Daryl from his thoughts, you nudge his shoulder again. “Hey, dont do that.”
“What?” He questions, turning to meet your eyes.
“Overthink. It wasnt so long ago we were out there and a filthy sleeping bag would have been the best thing we’d ever seen, just because I’ve showered today doesnt mean I’ve forgotten that. Survival has been our way for way too long, there’s no harm in letting yourself feel comfortable, even if it’s just for a few minutes.” Your words worm their way along the path of cracks in Daryl’s walls that you have spent years working your way through, right to his heart. Without sparing another second for him to overthink anymore, you swivel onto your knees to drape the other blanket around Daryl’s shoulders.
“There! How does that feel?” The smile on your face makes it impossible for him to look away from you.
“Yeah, gotta admit, ‘s nice.” And there it is, that little smile curling at the corner of his mouth that only you can bring about so effortlessly.
“I knew it! Even the badass Daryl Dixon cannot deny the euphoria of a cozy blanket!” You cheer dramatically, punching the air with fistfuls of your blanket and making Daryl laugh properly.
Settling down, you scooch the remaining inch closer to him, closing the gap between your knees and resting your head on his shoulder. The most perfect, peaceful minute passes, and Daryl closes his eyes, feeling so safe in every way that only you can make him that he could fall asleep. Maybe it wasnt the crickets that made the end of the world feel like home, after all.
“These are my favourite moments, y’know.” You whisper, causing Daryl’s eyes to flutter open.
“Hm?”
You chuckle. “Sorry, did I wake you?”
Daryl huffs a laugh and rubs his eyes tiredly. “Almost.”
Pulling away from him, your face softens into an empathetic smile as you scan his exhausted features. “Carol’s gonna be pissed at me again.”
“Why?” Daryl asks, but he’s smiling because he already knows.
Rolling your eyes, you grin right back at him. “Well, if I know you - and I think I do by now - despite being late back from your run, you havent told Carol you’re back yet.”
Daryl shrugs. “Could go tell her now.”
Sighing dramatically, you pull yourself up on the porch steps until you’re standing over him, holding a hand out. “C’mon.”
Daryl holds your gaze as he takes your hand and rises to his feet beside you.
“Think I can hear yer couch singin’ t’ me from out’ere.” He teases, causing you to shake your head as you guide him through your front door.
“Nuh-uh, first we’re getting you showered.”
Daryl scoffs. “So one minute, i’s all ‘I aint forget how we lived before’, the next yer sayin’ I cant crash on yer couch ‘less I shower first?”
Looking over your shoulder at him, you shrug. “Almost. For one, blankets can be washed, we dont have the luxury of couch cleaner, smartass. Second, you know as well as I do that couch is not built for two, so when my bedsheets come into the equation you are definitely showering first.”
And despite the amount of times this exact situation has played out, Daryl cant help the blush that creeps its way across his stubbled cheeks as you drag him up the stairs, towards the bathroom.
“Fine, you win.”
Stopping in front of the door, you stand on your tiptoes to place a kiss on the end of his nose.
“Always do. Now, go get cleaned up, I’ll be serving hot chocolate so meet me in the bedroom in T-minus 10.”
With that, you disappear back down the stairs, leaving Daryl in front of the bathroom door with a dazed, lovestruck look on his face, rosy cheeks, and something he’d describe as butterflies if he didnt think that was the most ridiculous thing he could be feeling in this world. But, if a dystopian suburbia is good for one thing, it’s giving a soul like his the chance to experience love like this.
A/N: if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post
spoilers: set in season 6, references to previous seasons
trigger warning: subtle references to domestic violence, but no graphic descriptions of those scenarios
Afraid
“Hey there sweet girl, been lookin’ for you!”
A smile is on your face before you’ve even turned to see who’s talking, and you dont get the chance to, because he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. Looking up at him, your smile widens into a grin, the two of you laughing as he lifts you from the ground and spins you around. When he puts you back down, the sound of the gate opening pulls both of your gazes to the entrance of Alexandria, and all emotion drains from your face. You make the weakest effort to leave his embrace and he releases you, you take a few steps forward, tears filling your eyes that you desperately blink away. The second your vision clears, you’re shaking your head and backing away, until you fall to the ground.
Everyone knew it. Everyone could see it, clear as day. Carol saw so much of her old self in you when the group met you at the farm. Hershel introduced you as his daughter, though biologically you were not. He had taken you in when at the very start you had come running to his farm, bloody and beaten and unable to utter a single word to Maggie who got to you just as you collapsed into her. You were so quiet, and so, so afraid. Shockingly, your fears never involved the monsters that roamed the earth, you happily joined the searches for Carol’s daughter, and you were a good fighter. You regularly offered your services to Daryl, becoming his search partner. He didnt have the heart to decline you when you stuttered out the question, because he recognised it. Not you, but your tendencies, your fear. He noticed it when Rick first patted your shoulder. He had been standing right beside you, you’d known he was there, but you still flinched, then closed your eyes in a pained blink, a mixture of embarrassment and intense fear. Rick noticed and made an effort not to startle you like that again, and Shane…well, Shane simply didnt care. He would actually do it deliberately because he thought it was funny, until he did it in front of Hershel and was given a stern talking to. Followed by a slap from Maggie before she took you inside the house. That was Daryl’s main indicator that there was something going on with you that your surrogate family were helping you hide.
It was when you were out for a search that Daryl chose to bring it up, he’d been mulling it over for a while. How to approach it, what to ask, what to say, how to make you feel safe in confiding in him. Eventually, he came to the conclusion that the best way to ask was to be vague about the cause.
“Who made ya so scared?”
The weight of his words hung in the air between you, and you made an active effort to avoid turning to look at him.
“What do you mean?” You asked back, but your attempts at concealing your nervousness were lame.
Daryl sighed. “C’mon, I know.” He paused. “Happened to me too.”
Then, you looked at him, with such heartbreak in your eyes Daryl wondered how you had even survived it. Until he realised that the heartbreak wasnt your own, it was for him.
“Im so sorry.”
Daryl shrugged off your care for him. “Don’ be, it’s over now.”
He chose not to repeat his question, not wanting to pester you, but eventually you spoke up again.
“Ex boyfriend.”
That was all Daryl needed to know, he nodded at you. “Im sorry too.”
After that, Daryl didnt bring it up, he didnt need to. The truth was out, the details werent, but you could tell him those in your own time. Daryl started paying close attention to the way everyone else acted towards you after that, especially Shane. Daryl would regularly stand himself behind you or beside you when he spotted Shane nearby, and he’d quietly warn you Shane was coming so that you could turn to him and spoil his favourite joke. One thing that confused Daryl was that Hershel sometimes had a sort of…curfew, for you. Not for the other girls, though they always went back in the house when you did. It wasnt everyday, more like every few days, no strict order, but always at sunset. Hershel would call you back inside, and you’d smile at Daryl, say goodnight, and head inside with Maggie and Beth.
One day, while you were out in the fields with Beth, Daryl took his first journey inside Hershel’s home that wasnt an errand for someone else.
“Hello, Daryl.” Hershel greeted him with a kind smile, something else that had changed since Daryl had gotten closer with you. He nodded at him in a greeting, looking around the kitchen as he paced.
“You’re here because of (Y/N), arent you?”
Daryl nodded again, and Hershel glanced out of the window, waiting for Daryl to present him with a question.
“Why’d ya give her a curfew sometimes? She aint a damn kid.” His words werent intended as vicious or insulting, but that was something he leaned on when he didnt want to convey how deeply he cared for someone.
“Im treating her.” Hershel said simply, instantly gripping Daryl’s attention.
“Wha’ for? She hurt?”
Hershel chuckled. “I suppose that’s one way of putting it, yes, but not in the sense of a visible injury.”
Daryl frowned at him, thinking Hershel was messing with him somehow.
“Im treating her for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. By no means am I experienced in treating it, but we have unscheduled therapy sessions, and they seem to have helped her, so we keep them going. Unscheduled, so that she doesnt have time to build a mental barrier beforehand, because she never knows when exactly they’re going to happen.”
Daryl felt sick. Was he overstepping in finding this out from someone other than you? How had he not made that connection about you?
“Dont worry, Daryl, if (Y/N) didnt want me to tell you then you wouldnt have been able to get a word out of me even if ya beat me to death.” He paused momentarily, looking at the young redneck. “Can you promise me something?” Hershel asked, and Daryl nodded at him, meeting his eyes.
“Please, keep her safe. I love her like she’s my own, and Im not a young man anymore, I cant fight anyone, I dont know how much longer I’ll be around. And when Im not, just promise me you’ll take care of her.”
Daryl held Hershel’s gaze and spoke two certain words. “I will.” And then he was gone.
It wasnt until the farm fell that Daryl found out more about your past, and it was because he was awoken by you screaming in your sleep. Beth was holding you, shushing you, while you sobbed hysterically and Daryl patrolled the small camp, checking for any walkers that could’ve heard you. After that, you couldnt get back to sleep, and Daryl assured Beth he’d stay up with you so that she could sleep.
“He still in yer dreams?” Was all he asked, and you nodded, wiping a few stray tears from your eyes. “Still dream o’ ma dad sometimes. His belt.” Daryl admitted, and your sad eyes met his again.
“I dream of his face, his hands, trying to grab me, reaching for me, shouting in my face-“ You shook your head, unable to continue, and Daryl nodded.
“I get it, ya don’ need t’ tell me anymore if it hurts. Jus’ know that I’ll keep ya safe, alright?” Daryl told you, and you gave him a small smile.
After that, Daryl made it his mission. You were already a good fighter, but he helped you fight in other ways. He helped you feel safe in yourself, on your own and with others, by first becoming safe with him. At the prison, you shared a cell with Daryl, and he was at your side the second he heard the signs of a nightmare stirring in you. He brought you out of your shell, helped you see how capable and strong you really were. The pride he felt for you was immeasurable, especially when you started managing whole weeks without nightmares, and you’d flinch less and less when a man raised their voice or startled you. He helped you, but what’s crazy is that he didnt. Daryl simply existed alongside you, showed you what it was like to be properly cared about, and in response your mind unwound itself, started to free itself, and you taught yourself how to live, how to maintain your own safety. You started declining Hershel’s invitations to counselling sessions, instead running off somewhere with Daryl with the brightest smile on your face, while Hershel smiled after you with happy tears in his eyes.
Hershel’s death hit you hard, but you managed to stay the strongest of his three girls in that you would smile when you cried at the thought of him. You would remember him with so much joy instead of sadness, because your entire mindset had been changed. You had transformed into a person that didnt even recognise the old you, because she only existed when your mind was forced back into a cage.
Daryl didnt even realise until he reached Alexandria that being with you had helped him, too. Both of you needed lessons in physical affection, in physical contact of any form outside of aggression, and you figured that path out together.
The view at the Alexandria gates is one even your nightmares had never conjured up. You scramble back on your hands and knees as a pair of eyes lock onto you, and even from a distance, know you. His face. The hands at his sides as he starts to walk towards you. Your entire body shakes feverishly as you get back on your feet, turning and running, but not looking in front of you because you cant look away from who’s coming. But someone else had been behind you, and you run straight back into the arms that had just been holding you.
“Don-Dont let him get me, please! Dont let him!” You’re crying, your eyes wider than they’ve been in years as you keep them fixed on the person who is now only a few feet away.
Daryl frowns down at you, his eyes following yours and making the connection as the girl he knows shatters into the shell of herself that he once knew, the shell of yourself that this mother fucked turned you into. Strong, safe arms move you to stand behind Daryl, and he holds you there as the man marches up to him.
“(Y/N)? (Y/N) is that you!?!”
His voice. He’s saying your name. You cover your ears, shaking your head frantically as you sob into the back of Daryl’s shirt.
People are running to you, Maggie and Glenn checking you over and trying to take you away from whatever is unfolding, but you will not leave Daryl.
“Oh my god! That’s my fucking girlfriend!” He sounds relieved, happy.
Daryl soon ends that. “She ain’ a damn possession, never been yours.”
You can hear the frown in His voice. “Excuse me?”
Daryl steps away from you, closer to Him, pushing him back. “Ya think ya can just come back here and fuckin’ ruin her again? Ya think Im gonna let you anywhere near ‘er? You better turn yer ass around and walk right back out those gates, or I’ll beat yer ass into a damn grave.”
Rick steps in. “Woah, woah, Daryl? What’s going on here?”
But your eyes, they see it, they always see it. To this day they’re trained to see when His fists clench at his sides. But this time it doesnt make you jump out of the way, instead, it brings the pieces of you back together in a split second. You push past Daryl and scream, punching Him with everything you have, burning tears streaming from your eyes. You feel your knuckles splitting, maybe even feel your fingers breaking, but you dont stop, everything is red.
It’s Daryl who wraps his arms around you and pulls you off him. You stand up and look into his eyes, nodding at him after a few seconds to assure him you’re cool, and Daryl lets go of you. Leaning over Him, you stare at his bloody, broken, bewildered face. Unable to utter a single word.
“I’ve found myself, I’ve found my people, I’ve found actual, physical love. I can take you out my damn self, I dont need somebody to keep me safe anymore. But I have someone who does that regardless, who respects and cares for me in a way that you would never understand, a way you’ll never deserve to experience yourself.” You watch His eyes as they notice your red, dripping fingers intertwine with Daryl’s, who stares down at Him with you. “You dont know who I am anymore, and that’s exactly how it should be, because if you did, you never would’ve made the mistake of coming here, and I never would’ve finally gotten to see you afraid of me. Get the fuck out.”
You dont give him the satisfaction of being able to respond to you, you walk away, leaving him in the crater your words formed around him. Daryl follows you, and you hear Him resisting being dragged out by the rest of your family. By now, they all understand an extent of what you went through, and to discover that asshole made it this far, they’ll gladly feed him to the walkers. Daryl stares at you in awe.
“What?” You ask him, wiping your bloody knuckles on your pants.
“I knew ya had it in ya, jus’ didn’ know if you knew.” Daryl tells you, smiling at you proudly.
You smile back at him, walking closer to him so he can wrap his arm around your shoulders and lead you to the infirmary.
“I knew, just took me a second. Thanks for sticking up for me anyway.”
Daryl scoffs. “Never gotta thank me.”
You grin up at him. “Im still gonna!”
He rolls his eyes, but smiles right back at you, pulling you close to place a kiss on your forehead. “Course ya are, sweet girl.”
And while Daryl smiles down at you, you look up to the sky, and somehow you know that somewhere up there, Hershel is smiling down at you too.
A/N: if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post
Fingertips
With a clearing of his throat, Daryl lowers himself to the step you have claimed as your own, the porch to the insanely oversized house looming behind you, an eerie reminder of a world and a life that has forever been out of reach and undesirable to you. He cleared his throat because he could tell when he escaped the cruel confines of the house that you were deep in thought, even though all he could see from there was the back of you. Not wanting to send you flying off the edge of the knife blade you are constantly teetering on these days, Daryl made his presence known before descending to sit beside you. A courtesy he wouldnt offer many, a gesture of kindness and care that was too obvious, too noticeable for his liking; it would usually make him break out in a blush that he’d rather die than have to deal with. But for you, he’ll risk far more than someone seeing him blush.
Your gaze is fixed on the street in front of you, not wanting to take the time to truly comprehend it because you couldnt live with it if you let yourself feel settled here, only to lose it like your family have lost everything, everywhere else. Despite not looking at him, Daryl knows you’ve acknowledged his presence as he brings his spread knees to the step below, resting his elbows on them and biting at the skin of one of his thumbs. Without hesitation, your hand reaches for his and whips it away from his mouth, and Daryl doesnt smile, but his heart breathes a sigh of relief. If there’s any surefire way to check that you’re not completely lost to your thoughts, it’s Daryl acting on any of the habits that cause him any amount of harm. In the same way you prevented him from biting away more skin on his thumb, had he lit a cigarette beside you just then, you would have taken it from his hand and crushed it with your boot; without any kind of aggression in your movements, and without even having to look at him to judge the distance you needed to move your own hands. It was a reflex at this point.
Having successfully secured a handhold without having to directly initiate it himself, Daryl takes your hand in both of his, one of his palms flat against yours while the other absentmindedly draws indecisive patterns on the back of your hand as it hangs loosely between his parted knees. Any passersby would assume that he’s looking at you with some kind of anger, he is scowling after all, but you know better, and that’s all that matters to him. The scowl on Daryl’s face is one of concentration as he watches you and waits. In seconds, the tension in your body starts to melt away, your rigid shoulders slumping as you breathe out a sigh.
“Wha’d ya think?” Daryl asks you, not needing to gesture at your surroundings for you to know what he’s referring to.
This place, these people; Alexandria is like some sort of bad acid trip, and while most of the group seem more than happy to stick around, you’ve been watching everything from afar, just like someone else.
“Same as you.” The words pass your lips quietly, but firmly, and Daryl understands. He always has when it’s you.
“I know.” He answers, and that breaks your own concentration.
With a soft laugh and a single raised eyebrow, you turn to face him. “Then why’d you ask?”
In response, Daryl can only shrug, huff, and hang his head to try and hide his stubbled blush behind his hair. He has a habit of acting on instinct when it comes to trying to make you smile, and that has often resulted in him unintentionally exposing his feelings to you, which are admittedly far from a secret by now, but it never fails to fluster him when they’re revealed all over again. Asking you questions he already knows the answer to because Daryl knows you so well and makes a mental note of every single thing he finds out about you, is one of the many ways he metaphorically falls over himself by admitting just how hard he’s fallen for you.
This brings out a more hearty chuckle from you, and you swing your arm around Daryl’s shoulders, tugging him closer to you so that he can duck his head in the crook of your neck.
“You are far too cute.” You coo, gently running your fingers through Daryl’s hair and absentmindedly detangling it.
“Shut up.” He grumbles against your skin, and you cant help smiling, still feeling his thumb grazing over the knuckles on your other hand situated on his knee.
“Never.” You reply playfully, and as much as Daryl is far from recovered from his blushing state, he smiles against your skin.
He realised a long time ago that displays of affection like this one have a profound effect on you and your happiness, as well as his own, and because of that, Daryl no longer feels awkward about them. That being said, he wont ever quite understand the effect his touch, specifically, has on you. The relieving sense of suddenly feeling at home, just with a brush of his thumb against your cheek, wiping away dirt, blood, or tears. The warmth that blooms in your heart and could challenge the sun itself whenever he holds your hand. There are a million and one cliché’s you could apply to your feelings for Daryl, and how you ended up sitting on this porch with him, but there is one you’d have to amend. Everything Daryl touches doesnt turn to gold. It’s earth, teeming with life, endless beauty and possibilities that so many fail to see the true depths of, and he brings that epiphany with every step he takes on the long road of life with you, hand in hand, guiding you to safety.
A/N: if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post
See Through
It wasnt like he never thought about you. In fact, you were his default thought whenever things got tough. During nights spent tossing and turning, unable to sleep, he’d be able to remember every detail of how it felt to fall asleep with his head on your chest and your arms around him. The sound of your heartbeat, it reminded him of his purpose, his reason for existing, or so he thought. Sometimes, on nights when he really couldnt sleep, Daryl would remember what your kisses felt like, and the immediate relief that flooded him at the mere thought was the perfect antidote to insomnia. Before the world ended, when Merle would disappear for days on end on a drug binge, the only thing able to calm Daryl Dixon would be the thought of you. If he drank enough moonshine, he wouldnt have to close his eyes to see your smile, it’d be right there. Maybe you’d be sitting on a chair, or on the floor, or leaning against the wall, it didnt matter where he saw you, your smile would always be the same, and it would always provide the necessary anaesthetic to rest his uneasy mind.
“You aint shit to her, just a stepping stone to somethin’ better, someone who’s worth a damn!”
After the world ended, the only time he got away from Merle was on the rare occasion his brother didnt accompany him on hunts, and those were the moments he was free to remember you. The details were excruciating, but it was better than following endless trails that would last hours before reaching anything worth seeing. Daryl would never tell Merle, of course, he wouldnt dare mention your name to him. Not for fear of what Merle would say, but for fear of what he would do in retaliation.
“The hell do you know? She was there, and where were you?!”
Daryl Dixon held a fair few rightful grudges against his older brother, especially after he was killed. That made it worse, because Daryl felt he’d wasted the years he could have potentially been holding his brother accountable, he could have been getting the answers he desperately needed. But it was too late, and with time, Daryl came to accept that he would die not knowing anymore than his brother had let him; that was Merle’s parting gift.
“Quit it with that whiny shit, baby brother, I was exactly where I wanted to be.”
That was, until the gates of Alexandria opened on one particular day. The rain was pouring, and your wild eyes were wide as you focussed your attention on the group that was running towards you. Wild eyes turned soft upon recognising the stormy Georgia skies found within the eyes of another, and Daryl could hardly believe it. Scanning the rest of the crowd, you made a mental note of Merle’s absence, and your gaze turned sorrowful enough to make Daryl’s stomach drop. Despite everything Merle had said and done, especially when it came to you, you effortlessly began proving him wrong in the way you empathised with Daryl’s loss. And although you were shivering from the rain, clothes stained in enough mud and blood to make you almost unrecognisable, Daryl saw the strength in you that had only grown in the many years that had passed since he was last in front of you.
“She’s weak, she aint nothin’! Wouldnt last a day out in the real world!”
His steps towards you were slow, cautious, disbelieving of your mere existence after so many instances of seeing mirages of you while under the influence. And then you smiled at him, against all odds, the end of the world had not changed that about you, and before Daryl had time to think, his arms were around you. In the pouring rain, the two of you embraced, feeling your favourite piece of the old world slotting back into place, neither of you saying a word. And then Rick approached you both, a gentle smile on his face.
“Im guessing you two know each other?” He mused, his gaze focussing on Daryl, who was ducking his head as he pulled away from you in an effort to hide his bashfulness.
And withour tearing your gaze from your favourite memory, you chuckled. “Something like that, yeah.”
Things were a blur after that. Rick introduced you to everyone, choosing to introduce you as “a friend of Daryl’s”, and that simple phrase was enough to melt the suspicion of everyone you came across. Daryl trailed along behind, making sure to look at anything and anyone except you, but you couldnt help looking over your shoulder to grin at him, proud of him and happy for him, having found a real family to call his own. However, that didnt change the fact you were still a stranger to the majority of those people, so for the sake of everyone else’s safety, you were bound to Carol and Daryl’s home until you were deemed safe to be around. The community had good reason to not take in outsiders, and Daryl was the only reason that you were an exception.
“You really think she cares about some piece of white trash like you? Dont tell me she’s made you stupid, baby brother.”
Despite living in the same house, you rarely saw Daryl, and spent most of your time telling Carol the funniest stories about the teenage Daryl Dixon that you remembered so fondly. Rick came to visit often to check in on you, and on one occasion he chose to mention that Daryl had told him you were trustworthy and he would vouch for you if anything happened. As kind as you thought that was, you couldnt help feeling it was a little out of place, considering Daryl had been doing his best to avoid you by barely setting foot in his own house. Your years apart hadnt made you forget Daryl’s rebellion against all things American-dream related, though, so you tried to convince yourself that his absence was merely his general attitude to the surrounding neighbourhood, and not you, specifically.
“She’s not like us, and Im damn sure she aint like you! She’s heartless, selfish, and she’ll leave you the first chance she gets! You really gonna sit around and wait for her to disappear?”
The second Rick said you were safe to integrate with the rest of the community, your only mission was to find Daryl. Not to talk to him, because he would initiate that with you in his own time, or you would when you got impatient with him. Your goal was simply to see him around, to reassure yourself he wasnt some dream your lonely mind had made up while trapped outside the walls. In an effort to better get to know everyone, you walked around the entire community and offered help to anyone who needed it, and if they didnt, you settled for pleasantries, casual jokes to ease the tension of your arrival that you still felt in the way they looked at you, but you sought to resolve it, and within a day, you did.
Returning from a hunt to hear literally everyone he knew talking about you was quite the shock for poor Daryl. Because he was assosciated with you, various people came up to him to offer their compliments about you, which he thought strange, but simply shrugged off. You’d always been a very warm person, easy to get along with; if you hadnt been, you never would’ve had the resilience to stick around Daryl Dixon as a teenager. Still, rounding a corner to see you standing in a small group of people that had never properly spoken to you before and seeing them all laugh at something you said, sharing bright smiles with you as you intently listened to everything they had to say, it was enough to flip Daryl’s world upside down. In all the years that had passed since the end of the world, Daryl never thought he’d encounter something that would send him right back to high school, witnessing the mesmerising affect you had on people, including (and especially) him.
“Why are you so hung up on some girl, anyway?! Piece of ass aint never had a hold on me like that. Have you gone soft on me, baby brother?”
Without realising it, Daryl’s shock had stopped him in the middle of the street, and he was staring at you for some time. It was only when you waved at him with a beaming smile that he came back to his senses, and he could only offer a small nod in return before he skulked off in the opposite direction, hanging his head with the weight of his own blush.
After that, the gravitational pull of you began to wear down the poor crossbowman, and he found himself lingering in his house every morning just to hear you wish him a good morning as you strolled down the stairs. You’d only ever get a nod and grunt in return, and then he was out the door, but it didnt seem to matter to either of you. To you, it was progress, and to Daryl, it meant far more than he was comfortable admitting.
A month has passed since your arrival at Alexandria, and no further progress has been made with your teenage dream. For a reason that Daryl cant understand, however, you seem completely unphased by that. Still waving at him whenever you see him, offering that same beaming grin, wishing him a good morning everyday and sometimes a good night if he happens to show up before you decide to go to sleep; you seem totally satisfied in this stunted place. Meanwhile, Daryl feels like he’s suffocating under the weight of it all.
In the midst of all this, Daryl has discovered a new favourite place to reside. He’s started taking up more shifts on watch recently, purely to sit on top of the wall, right beside the gate, with his legs over the edge and the whole, rotting world in front of him. Daryl cant explain it, but something about it brings him peace. You’ve seen him up there more times than you can count during your many nightly walks that you choose to take whenever you cant sleep; an uneasiness usually caused by your awareness of the fact you know Daryl isnt in the house. Upon finding him up there, you usually head back home to sleep soundly with the knowledge that he’s alright, but tonight, you stop. Staring up at the silhouette of his back, you nod to yourself, and in a brilliant ‘fuck it’ moment, you decide to climb the ladder.
“Bet you follow her around like some lost puppy. Swear on Christ himself, she wont ever come chasin’ after you, baby brother!”
Naturally, Daryl’s survivor instincts immediately pick up on the sound of something coming up behind him, and he’s quick to turn around and inspect the culprit. When he realises it’s you, though, he frowns. It’s difficult to tell in the dark, but you’re sure you can recognise some concern in his countenance.
“The hell you doin’?” He almost growls, clearly irritated by your spontaneity, and it seems you both become aware at the exact same time that neither of you have really changed much at all, at least not from the people you knew.
“Coming to sit with you, problem?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at Daryl as you sit yourself down beside him and kick your legs over the edge of the wall.
You only get a huff in response, but you’re hardly surprised. Honestly, you have no idea why you decided to do this.
The blanket of silence that settles over the both of you is warm in the cold of the night, and you tilt your head back to admire the stars winking down at you, as though encouraging you to speak up. And finally, you feel that the time is right.
“I understand if you still believe what your brother said about me…” You address the ancient elephant in the room, the thing both of you have been tiptoeing around in your own way. While Daryl has been avoiding you in order to also avoid the topic, you have simply been waiting for it patiently, knowing it was just beyond the horizon.
Your nervousness is obvious, but not for the reason Daryl expects. He first assumes it’s because you think he does actually still agree with his deceased brother’s distasteful words regarding you, but you are actually more worried about upsetting Daryl at the mention of his beloved brother. That, in itself, proves Merle wrong, as though every other thing Daryl’s seen you do since you got here hasnt already done that.
Shaking his head, Daryl stares off at the road ahead, the empty cards a visualisation of him as he parts his lips, reluctant to discuss the gruelling guilt that has left him a carcass.
“He was a lyin’ piece o’ shit about a lotta things.” He says simply, and in any other scenario, many years ago, you probably would have laughed in agreeance. But these days, and at this moment, you need more of an explanation.
“Then...what’s the problem? Why do you avoid me?” You ask, looking over at Daryl from the side with furrowed brows.
He casts a split second glance at you before fixing his gaze back on his knees. “Feel stupid fer believin’ him, hurtin’ you like I did.”
Just verbalising it is enough to make Daryl recall the excruciating image of you, staring at him with wide, devastated eyes and tear stained cheeks, but nodding along with every angry word he threw at you, every word that you knew wasnt truly his, but you insisted you understood.
Closing his eyes in a pained blink, Daryl shakes the memory from his mind, unable to comprehend how stupid he was back then.
“It did hurt, but that doesnt mean I resented you for it, or held any kind of grudge.” You try to reassure him, not wanting to lie about the agony you went through after losing him, but sparing him the details that you know will only make him feel more guilty.
“Makes it worse.” Daryl mumbles, and you study the features of his side profile. Though it’s changed considerably since the last time you memorised every aspect of it, you’ll always be able to read him like a book.
“Why?” You question softly.
It’s then, Daryl finds the confidence to meet your eyes. “Shows just how wrong Merle was.”
Tears blur the perfect vision of him, hearing him disagree with Merle and think for himself, so easily correcting all of the horrible things Merle labelled you as in order to force Daryl to leave you behind because he didnt want to “share” his baby brother; it’s all a little too much for you. But you can cry about it later, now isnt the time, and you hurry to blink them away, replacing them with a gentle smile as a wonderful idea pops into your head.
“Why dont we start over?” You suggest, and Daryl frowns, thinking he misheard you, or you’re messing with him.
“What?”
You chuckle quietly as you elaborate. “Start over, a clean slate. No guilt, no pain, no mistakes that havent been amended. A new beginning for the new world.”
For a few moments, Daryl considers this. The way in which his frown lingers makes you worry that you’ve somehow stepped out of line, but then his expression softens to one that your heart will always recognise.
The corner of his mouth twitches into a smile. “...Alright.”
Grinning at Daryl, you hold your hand out. “Nice to meet you, Im (Y/N).”
He huffs and rolls his eyes, thinking this is totally ridiculous but unable to deny how adorablehe finds your efforts, and as a result, he shakes your hand.
“Daryl.” He introduces himself somewhat sarcastically, and you wink.
“Pleasure.”
“Yeah, sure it is.” Daryl remarks sassily, and the two of you share a quiet laugh in the midst of an almost completely silent night, but neither of you feel even slightly intrusive. It’s like the world has been waiting for this, and she’s breathing a sigh of relief at the two of you finally reconnecting.
The blanket of silence brings you closer together, and in seconds you find yourself resting your head against Daryl’s shoulder. For a reason that he cant place, he doesnt tense up, or really react at all, because as soon as you’re close to him he realises he had adjusted to how wrong it felt not to have you there.
“I’ve missed you, y’know.” You practically whisper, and Daryl takes one of your hands in his.
Intertwining your fingers, he lifts your hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. You expect him to drop your hand, but instead, he holds it there for a second longer.
spoilers: set in the Commonwealth, but no references to season-specific events
A/N: if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post
Material Girl
The front door to the apartment slammed against the wall as you stormed in and immediately threw your back against the door to close it again.
“Daryl, we’ve got to go. Now.”
Daryl stood from where he had been lying on the makeshift bed you shared, a mattress on the floor with a couple of pillows and blankets that you had decided to regard as a sleepover kit to make it seem a lot more fun than it really was. He had previously been throwing a tennis ball against the ceiling and catching it as he laid with his back against the mattress in an effort to piss off the neighbours in the flat above who continually played music at a deafening level, which was a problem he never imagined he would experience again. Alas, the Commonwealth had been the rebirth of first world problems in Daryl Dixon’s life.
Tennis ball in-hand, Daryl approached you with a concerned frown, trying to determine what exactly had you staring at him like a deer in headlights before he eventually nodded.
“Alright, gotta grab the kids.”
He didnt question your motives, he trusted your judgement completely, and if you said it was time to go, he was ready.
To Daryl’s surprise, you shook your head as you bustled past him and began absentmindedly tidying away the few toys you’d managed to buy RJ and Judith with the little money you’d earnt from your job so far. “No, we cant take them out of school.”
Daryl looked at you like you were insane. “Ya aint suggestin’ we actually LEAVE ‘em here?!”
You stared back at him blankly, blinking. “When I said we’ve got to go…”
Daryl nodded. “Go, as in leave this place.”
At that, you scoffed and shook your head. “Absolutely not.”
Daryl watched, utterly baffled, as you returned to his side at the front door. “Then where ‘re we goin?”
And in horror, Daryl watched as a wide grin spread across your face and you spoke a word he had hoped he would never hear leave your lips.
“Shopping!”
It came to pass that you and Rosita had discovered a clothes store down the street that you had not yet explored in your first week of being in this alternative dimension to the world beyond the walls. The two of you had decided you would drag Daryl and Eugene - kicking and screaming in mind, sulking and hanging their heads low in body - shopping, solely to be the audience to your fashion show. It was unlikely you would be able to afford anything, but neither of you cared, it was the principle.
Daryl Dixon never thought he would see the day when he was led by the hand of the love of his life into a clothing store, while the dead were walking the earth everywhere else. It was one of the most fucked up moments of his life, in all honesty, and he could not stop imagining Merle getting kicked out of a store like this for fondling a mannequin’s plastic breasts and then continuing to howl with laughter from beyond the display windows as Daryl actually stood in a clothes store. He and Eugene were pushed into a pair of chairs opposite a row of changing room doors, and then you and Rosita disappeared into the store, giggling like a pair of teenage girls. Still, at least Daryl wasnt alone in his suffering.
“Scenes of this nature are usually inserted prior to events such as a fictional prom or date amongst women in their most highly rated flicks for chicks. Perhaps this insinuates we are the lucky ones, comrade-in-mannequin-arms.”
On second thought, maybe Daryl would rather be sitting alone.
Twenty agonising minutes later, you and Rosita returned to Daryl’s line of sight, and then you both disappeared behind the changing room doors. Daryl shuffled in his seat and straightened his shirt, knowing that if nothing else, this was the part he needed to take seriously. Not that he would ever admit it, but he knew Eugene was right. As stereotypical as it was, getting proper feedback to new outfits and the like was an important thing for partners to give each other. He would also never admit to anyone except you that he had often had dreams of being with you in the old world and doing mundane shit exactly like this, going to the movies, going out for dinner, being dragged on a shopping trip that you both know he’d just be pretending he hated. As much as he isnt entirely comfortable with the social aspect of it all, Daryl cant deny that the sheer joy on your face at being able to experience something you clearly never thought you would again, really was a sight for sore eyes.
And so, Daryl mentally prepared himself to deliver compliments that usually would not be heard by an audience, because this was his chance to publicly declare his affections, in the least obnoxious way possible. The two of you had been together long enough, he was past the point of worrying about you rejecting any kind of compliment from him.
The first outfit was a sunshine yellow dress that took Daryl’s breath away, and he made certain to let you know when he rose from his seat the second you stepped out of the changing room, like a gentleman rising from the table when the lady entered a room.
“Go on, gi’ me a spin.” He gestured to you, and you giggled as spun around, lifting the skirt of the dress as you twirled, and Daryl couldnt wipe the dopey smile off of his face as he wolf whistled at you.
“Aint you jus’ a dime, sweet girl.” He walked up to you and held your hands in his, leaning forward just enough to plant a soft kiss on your forehead.
Meanwhile, Rosita’s first outfit was a pair of baggy green camo pants and a long sleeved black t-shirt, to which Eugene made the very astute observation of her resembling Kim Possible, causing Rosita to scoff and return to the changing room.
Your second outfit was a more multi-purpose one, a nice pair of jeans and a flower blouse that both complimented your figure but enabled you to kick some serious ass if shit hit the fan. A pretty, but still adaptable ensemble. Daryl once again rose from his seat and requested a spin, his eyes very nearly rolling out of his skull at the sight of your ass in those jeans, causing him to clear his throat and straighten his shirt as he blushed, which you definitely noticed.
“Looks real good on you.” He said, and he cannot believe it, but he actually gave two very brief thumbs up as he sat back down. Merle would have literally passed out in the street if he’d seen Daryl do that.
Rosita’s second outfit was a gorgeous summer dress that was flattering, comfortable, and made you call her the hottest milf you’ve ever seen. Eugene blinked at this, nodded, and elected not to say anything for fear of Rosita knocking his teeth out.
Your third and final outside was the money maker, the one that you knew Daryl would like the most, and you were absolutely right. When you had stepped out of the changing room, Daryl had been slouching in the chair with his right elbow against the armrest and his right index finger across his top lip, trying to get the image of your ass in those jeans out of his mind. But when he saw the image of you, decked out in a pair of black skinny jeans, a strappy blood rest tank with killer cleavage and a leather jacket with an amalgamation of classic rock band logos and badges stitched to the back of it, Daryl Dixon very nearly lost consciousness.
At your side, Rosita stepped out in her final outfit: a floor length, slinky and strapless red dress, with equally killer cleavage. Eugene’s spirit had ascended beyond the realm of comprehension for a short time, and he genuinely looked like he had been shot.
Feeling your confidence skyrocket from the way you had stunned your boyfriend, you put on a fake sultry southern accent and said “Tell me about it, stud” before you and Rosita bursted into fits of laughter.
It was then, Eugene’s spirit returned to him, and he cleared his throat. “This is what I believe to be the showstopper to stop all of the shows. Speaking entirely from a statistical standpoint, given the state of the world and its lack of societies as we know it, Rosita, I wish to offer my humble being if we should be the last humans on earth at any point and you wish to repopulate. If you do not wish to continue the species, however, I will respect this with the utmost chivalry, and will remain at your side until the very last sunset. It is not likely we will live to see the very last sunset of our earth’s sun, but I will be at your side until we see our last sunset with what I hope to be much older eyes. Furthermore-“
At that point, Rosita cut him off. “Okay, Eugene, we get it! Go get some air, you’re like a dog on heat.”
Not having the grounds to disagree with that statement, Eugene stood from his chair and left the store, waiting outside like a child who’s been told by his mother he cant enter the store because he cant be trusted not to touch anything. In the meantime, Rosita returned to the changing room to return to the clothes she had arrived in, and you shook your head.
“Those two are one hell of a duo.” You chuckled, then realised Daryl was still staring at you and had not moved. “Hey, everything alright? Earth to Daryl?” You waved a hand in front of his face and when you got no response, crouched down in front of him. This altered Daryl’s view of your cleavage considerably, and he swallowed.
“Ya gonna buy that?” He asked, his voice husky.
You laughed. “I wish! There’s no way I can afford it, unfortunately.”
Still not moving, Daryl responded. “We’ll save up.”
You raised an eyebrow, smiling at him as you recognised the scale of the impact you’d had on him. “Yeah?”
Daryl nodded, then asked another question. “How long ‘til the kids get home?”
Checking your watch, you glanced back at him. “About an hour, why?”
For a brief moment, there was silence, before Daryl nodded, stood up, nodded at the changing room, and finally glanced at you.
“How quick can ya get changed and get home?”
Your eyes widened. “Uhh, 10 minutes, probably, why?”
With one last full look up and down your body, Daryl nodded. “See ya in 10.”
And then, he was out of that front door and on his way home faster than you can say Eugene had passed out in the middle of the street.
A/N: if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post
spoilers: set in season 6
Sunshine
It was such a cliché, right from the get go. Your personalities clashed like sunshine and rain, completely juxtaposing each other in a way that never should’ve made anything, but every single time, it created something beautiful. Not always a rainbow, because rainbows can be enjoyed by everyone, and sometimes moments between you werent meant for anyone except the two of you. It was just a perfect storm and the two of you smiling in the middle of it, while everyone else carried on existing without even acknowledging the way time stopped, because it hadnt for them.
Sometimes, things were a little too literal. Like the time Daryl spotted you lying down in the middle of the streets of Alexandria outside of his house, during a rainstorm. You were just lying in the street, letting the rain pour down on you. Daryl stepped out of his house, keeping himself shielded from the outpour by staying on the porch as he yelled out to you.
“Have ya lost yer damn mind!?! The hell you doin’?”
You didnt open your eyes, and you didnt turn to look at him, but you made the effort to explain yourself in a way that was far too casual and comfortable for the situation. “Carl bet me a candy bar that if I laid down in the street during the next rainstorm, my back would get wet - so I am proving that my back will NOT get wet as long as I stay very still, because I am going to get that candy bar!”
Daryl was frequently stunned by your utterly bizarre actions, but he was far from surprised, he knew you too well. So he sat down on the porch and watched, hoping the rain would let up soon.
Rick, Carl and Michonne exited the house to investigate your position, and when they posed the same question Daryl had, Daryl scoffed.
“Carl’s fault, ‘pparently ‘s part o’ some bet.”
Carl wheezed with laughter, proving to Michonne and Rick that Daryl’s explanation was right. Then, you spoke up again.
“If any of you attempt to move me before the rain ends, I will not hesitate!” You called out.
“You wont hesitate to what?” Rick asked you.
And to that, you shrugged, making everyone laugh. Rick, Michonne and Carl headed back inside the house, but Daryl stayed sat on the porch for reasons that he couldnt quite place.
“I know you’re still there, Dixon.” You said, smiling because you knew your words would’ve shocked him.
“How’d ya know that? Aint even got yer eyes open!” Daryl shot back, and your smile widened.
“You always stick around when Im doing this.” You said simply, and Daryl huffed.
“Don’ ever really know what yer doin’.”
You chuckled. “I know, me neither!”
He stayed with you until the rain stopped, and once it had, Carl and Rick ran back outside to find out the result of the bet. Daryl helped you to your feet and the two of you evaluated the state of your back, discovering that there was a single dry line of shirt down your back, which the high court judge Rick Grimes deemed was just cause for you winning the candy bar. You skipped away from the house victoriously, unwrapping the candy bar and stuffing it in your mouth, with immediate and total disregard for your soaking wet clothes and hair. Daryl shook his head as he watched you, but he couldnt help smiling.
And then, there were occasions where Daryl’s personality showed, and you were the only one that could shine a light on it and help others understand what was going through his head. Sometimes, you literally acted as his translator.
There was a walker stuck in a predicament downstream that was causing a nasty overflow, and when someone suggested that you - being pretty small in comparison to everyone else - would be able to get through a particular tight gap to draw the walker out, Daryl grumbled in response. He turned his gaze to stare out of the window as Rick looked to you. The meeting was in full swing, and everyone’s input was very important, especially to Rick.
“It seems people are reluctant to suggest that Im used as bait.” You said, and Rick laughed quietly, Daryl’s eyes snapping to yours to frown. You shrugged at him. “I know, but it’s our only option right now. This is the best call, and I know you know that, you just dont want to admit it.”
The group gathered in the living room all watched in awe as you somehow effortlessly figured out exactly what Daryl couldnt put into words. It was a pretty regular occurrence, what with Daryl not being the most talkative and also undervaluing his own opinions to the extent where you voice them for him to validate them in front of the group. But, even if it did happen frequently, it didnt mean that Daryl’s heart ached any less every time you just…understood him.
Like later that week, when the plan was due to go ahead, Daryl pulled you aside just before you left the group to complete you bait-related-task.
“Be careful. Ya need me, jus’ shout.” And I’ll come running, he thought to himself, and you smiled up at him, holding his face in your hands.
“I know, you’ll come get me. Dont worry, I’ll be okay. Gotta be, right?” You grinned up at him, and he offered you a smile in return, which was enough for you to let go of him and embark on your mission.
Being bait actually wasnt too frightening that time around, it was pretty easy and risk free. Or at least, it would’ve been, if you had been looking behind you as you walked backwards, keeping your eyes on the rotting walker as you lured it away from the stream. You couldnt kill it without risk of it spoiling the water, and therefore the fish. But because of how carefully you were focussing on that, you werent focussing on your own steps, and you slipped on a particularly wet rock, flipping you on your back, hard. You yelped, and because you werent far from the group, Daryl swore he could hear you. He tried to break through the foliage, but Rick stopped him, insisting to wait for your call if you needed help. And few seconds later, that call came.
“DARYL!” You yelled, and before you’d even finished saying his name, he was running.
When Daryl reached you, he found you lying on your back with the walker over the top of you, and you were covered in its blood, a beaming smile on your face as your eyes found Daryl.
“I got it! But I slipped and it fell on me and my back hurts now.” You said, making everyone in the group laugh, even Daryl, who shook his head as he threw the walker off of you and helped you to your feet.
“Scared the shit outta me, crazy girl.” He said, smiling down at you in disbelief.
You rolled your eyes at him. “You should be able to tell the difference between my yells for you by now, there’s panicked, excited, confused, dramatic-“
Daryl cut you off by scoffing. “All yer damn yells for me are dramatic, you should know tha’s why every one of ‘em makes me think yer in some kinda danger!”
You thought about it for a moment, and then nodded. “Okay, yeah, ya got me there. Let’s go home, I need some soup after a hard day’s work!”
Daryl sighed as you skipped off ahead of him, your back pain already forgotten about because that space of your mind was occupied by soup. He jogged after you, a smile on his face that only an idiot would have, an idiot that’s head over heels.
You definitely brought Daryl out of his shell with your daft antics, because so often you did stupid shit that he couldnt not ask for an explanation for, he simply had to know why you did the things you did. He had to force himself to talk to you in that way, but he didnt mind, because as soon as you got talking to him, socialising didnt feel like such a drag anymore. Daryl found himself wanting to know everything about you, so anything you did tell him was utterly fascinating. And the attention you paid to everything he said, the effort you made in getting to know him, too…it made him feel things that he’d never felt before.
Daryl shakes his head as he stares down at his shoes, which are taking him on the automatic route to your house down the street. He knows you’re back from the run because Michonne was with you and he was waiting for her to walk back in the house they shared, that was his indicator to go and find you. The weirdest aspect of this thing Daryl has with you is that he doesnt even resist this, and he never has. He knows he wants to see you, he knows he missed you, and he knows Merle would be laughing his ass off at him for all of this, but it doesnt deter him. Not even a little.
The distance between your house and Daryl’s feels unfair, he realises this every time he comes to see you, but he cant exactly approach you with a “hey, wanna move yourself and all your stuff closer to me so that we can hang out more even though we already hang out almost everyday?”. Daryl may be in love with you, but he’s not about to make himself look desperate. He lifts his fist to knock on your front door, but before he can, you’ve pulled the door open. Your eyes widen in surprise.
“Daryl! I was just gonna come to see y-“
He cuts you off, as he often does, but this time it isnt with an expression or a small joke or some sassy remark.
Daryl’s lips fall onto yours, so briefly, so gently and so sweetly that you barely feel it, but oh, do you feel it. The heat of the sun and the comfort of rain, the electricity of the most gentle lightning strike coursing through you as your heart pounds like thunder in your chest. Even when he pulls back, the feelings remain, they triumph, and they take control of you. Fierce hands grip the front of Daryl’s vest, pulling him back to where he belongs, where he has always been destined to go. A tornado of butterflies, a tsunami of emotion, the waves within you crash and burn and blind. And then his hands are at your waist, and though fabric restricts his fingertips from making contact with your skin, your hips are ablaze beneath his palms. The kiss is not long, it is not harsh, it is the briefest eternity of bliss that you have ever experienced.
When the two of you break apart and the atmospheres of your worlds calm to blue skies, Daryl smiles down at you.
“Been wantin’ to do that for a while, should’a done it sooner.” He admits bashfully, and you bite your lip up at him.
“It was worth the wait.” You tell him, and Daryl nods, resting his forehead against yours. You can see his eyes searching yours, looking for something that he cant ask for, and you lean up to place the lightest kiss on his lips. “It was wonderful.”
Daryl blushes, your ability to read him proving to be an excellent tool at embarrassing him in the best way. But with dusty rose stubbled cheeks, he smirks, pulling away from you to place a kiss of his own on your forehead.
A/N: if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post
End Of The World
Something feels off. You cant quite place it, or maybe you can and you just dont want to. After all, there’s only one thing, or rather one person, who can bring about a sixth sense within you like this.
Sighing to yourself, you open your eyes and stand from your bunk, your much needed sleep after a full night on watch being placed on an all too familiar back burner. Ironically enough, the reason for so many previously neglected nights of sleep is the exact same one as your present inability to sleep. You descend the metal staircase of cellblock C with heavy, but alert eyes, scanning the ground level until you find Rick. Judging by the frown on his face, your instincts were unfortunately correct. At the sight of you approaching, Rick sighs in predetermined defeat, already knowing what you’re going to ask.
“Merle took Michonne.” Is all Rick says, and everything clicks into place.
Being one of the four informed by Rick of the Governor’s offer, you are very much within the inner circle that understands the dynamic between Daryl and Merle; more so than everyone else in the prison, save for the brothers themselves. As a result, it takes less than a second for you to piece together that you and the Dixon brothers had been right to predict Rick backing out of the offer, both because he would see through it and because it isnt how your group operates. Daryl would have accepted this without dispute, but Merle? As unpredictable as he likes to think he is, his response is clear as day to you.
Without needing to even consider your other options, you turn back in the direction of the stairs, ready to collect your things and become the final person in the chain of the chase that was already unfolding, but Rick grabs your arm.
“We need you here.” He pleads with you, worried how the group will fair in the battle that looms ahead with not only the Dixon brothers gone, but you as well.
“You’ll have me, and both of those idiots.” You reassure Rick, nodding at the small smile that curls at the corner of his mouth, an airy chuckle passing his lips as he lets go of you. Of all people, he knows you are the most capable when it comes to dragging the Dixon brothers back home by their ears.
A lifelong friendship with the younger Dixon had gifted you with the perfect insight to both him and his older brother, and when either two was being unreasonable, it had always been you to play mediator. Whether the fight was between the two of them, or more commonly, them against quite literally anyone else. You had been the first, and for a while the only, person that Daryl had ever let in, and you held that honour higher than anything else. To be fair to him, you had followed him around in the woods when the two of you were merely five years old, thinking he was some magnificent forest boy, a fairy of some description.
“Aint no damn fairy!” The miniature Dixon had snapped, causing little you to giggle.
“Just a forest boy, then?” You posed the question to him with a subtle tease in your smile, a glint of mischief in your eyes that Daryl would grow to know all too well.
“Fine.” He’d answered begrudgingly, turning away from you before you could see the smile on his face, one that only you had ever placed there.
The bow that took pride of place under your bunk leaves an emptiness behind it as your hand instinctively makes a grab for it. Swinging it over your shoulder has been second nature since your thirteenth birthday, when Daryl presented the wooden bow that he had spent longer shaping than he’d ever care to admit, and that wasnt counting the extra hours he’d spent carving various little things into it, including your initials with a heart around them. To this day, he still swears that he did that without thinking, in some sort of daze that he has no real explanation for, and by the time he realised what he was doing it was too late. Grazing your thumb over it gently, your gaze hardens where it used to smile at such a memory, your grip on the bow tightening as you swing a small bag of medical supplies on your other shoulder and make a break for it.
On your way, you stop to ask Rick which door Daryl left through, and then you begin following his exact path. The only person to spot you during your brisk exit is Carol, stabbing through the fence at the walkers that you are sneaking behind, and her shocked eyes turn to an understanding nod as she, too, understands what you are leaving for. There’s only one reason you ever would.
Keeping your gaze fixed on the ground, you place your shoes in each of the footprints Daryl left. Naturally, in all your years together he imparted some of his tracking knowledge on you, but you’re certain that even without it, you’d be able to follow Daryl anywhere.
Sunlight streams through the trees above you, casting beams of gold that light your way, some otherworldly power offering their guidance to him. The realisation of what you and Daryl have is long since passed, and although it took Daryl longer to reach the same conclusion, the two of you had eventually seen eye to eye and soul to soul. At seventeen, it was quite a realisation to come to, and neither of you were entirely prepared; it was truly surprising how little either of you cared about not having a choice in that, though. There was never any sort of official question, just an unspoken acknowledgement and acceptance on both sides. Sometimes you would call him your boyfriend just to see him scoff and blush, but both parties were all too aware that what you had was so much more than that. In all those years, you experienced so many firsts together, he was your first friend, then your first best friend, first drinking partner, the first to let you take a puff of his cigarette, and you were his first in all of the same ways. And exactly as two soulmates of your calibre should, you experienced the last days of the world you knew, and the first days in the new one, together.
Merle’s relationship with Daryl has always been something that you’ve begrudgingly understood. The older Dixon’s ability to get inside the head of your life and death partner, transform him into someone who pushes everyone away, that is something that has hurt you more times than you can count. Not because he’s ever pushed you away, no, you are the only exception, but seeing him push away others in his life who tried to care for him, teachers, other friends he refused to keep because Merle wouldnt let him, and after the end of the world, those who had survived alongside him. Merle has always taken great pleasure in forcing Daryl’s dependence on him, manipulating him into believing nobody else would ever care for him like he does, nobody would ever understand him like his dear older brother. It’s a given that Merle wont listen to anyone except Daryl, and in his own fucked up way, he does care for his younger brother. You are the one thing that Merle knows better than to try and change Daryl’s mind on.
Every time Daryl has been left without Merle, he has started to let others in, he’s relaxed himself and the guard he has exhaustingly held up to everybody else. At the end of the world, Merle leaving him again hit him hard, but he had you, and he claims that is the only thing that kept him from losing his damn mind. Merle’s return was not predicted, but you knew it would happen eventually. You really thought that this time, Daryl had been without Merle and with other people long enough to have grown too much for his brother to change him again, but of course, the moment you arent around for just a few minutes, Daryl drops everything and runs after his narcissistic, bigoted excuse for an older brother. And of course, it is up to you to drag him away from whatever mess Merle has almost definitely dropped him in.
Commotion in the trees ahead snaps you back to reality and away from your thoughts, your eyes refocusing on the world in front of you rather than subconsciously following the trail and mentally drifting away with your younger self, forever chasing after Daryl Dixon.
Michonne emerges from the foliage, a lingering sense of shock on her face and a roll of her eyes at seeing you.
“So you’re going after him, and he’s going after Merle?” She raises an eyebrow, with the perfect tone of ‘why am I even surprised?’.
“Story of my life.” You shrug, then continue your journey around her, initially struggling to make sense of Michonne’s footprints crossing Daryl’s and in the opposite direction, but being able to separate the two soon enough.
Feeling as though you’re nearing him at long last, you start pondering what could have possibly happened. Sure, you could have asked Michonne, but there isnt time to stand around and chat, you need to get to the Dixon brothers before they end up swinging at each other. Again. Being a particularly good judge of character, you know Michonne well enough to know she wouldnt have killed Daryl, at least. That still leaves an awful lot of possibilities, though. Did Daryl get there in time to free Michonne before she killed Merle? Did Daryl fight Merle off and tell Michonne to run? Or did Michonne kill Merle before Daryl could get there? What state of Daryl Dixon are you about to find? You shake your head free of doubts, refocusing your mind on the sound of your boots against the twigs on the forest floor, head snapping round to check for any walkers that could be approaching from any direction. In a world filled with walking corpses, you are most worried about Merle upsetting Daryl. And you wouldnt have it any other way.
Still, with every step your boots are made heavier with the weight of paranoid pre-grief. You have every belief that Daryl can overpower Merle, physically, he is strong enough, but mentally? Daryl cant bring himself to intentionally cause serious harm, not to Merle at least. If you walk into a scene that in any way resembles the day Merle got our of juvie and was supposed to meet you and Daryl in a particular part of the woods near their house, where you then walked alone, to find him sitting on a beaten unconscious Daryl, who had been the victim of Merle’s not yet adjusted prison mindset - you dont know what you’d do to Merle if you saw something like that again. Too many years have passed, and you’ve gone through too much to ever again underestimate your ability to kick his ass, royally.
Footsteps falter as you clear the trees, realising you’ve returned to the barn in which Rick first met the Governor, and you, Daryl and Hershel stayed outside with the Governor’s goons, waiting for the announcement you all knew was coming. Except this time, the area surrounding said barn was littered with half eaten corpses, being feasted upon by other corpses. Your chest tightens as you grip your bow until your knuckles hurt, taking careful, silent steps to avoid being heard by the dead, but it isnt them that’s instilling this kind of fear in you, it’s what they may have left behind. Biting your lip hard, you fight to blink back tears, walking through blood soaked patches of grass. And then, you see it. The unique metal weapon, fixed to a self-amputated stump, but the face of the man that’s attached to is completely caved in, blood spilling from the cracks left in the sides of the crater that was once Merle. The grey of his skin and the lack of defensive wounds tell you everything you need to learn, and despite the lump in your throat, you feel sick with guilt at the tiny spark of relief that ignites in you at this sight confirming Daryl was alive long enough to fend off his dead brother, and may still be. The damage this has done to him is likely immeasurable, but he might be alive, he might be.
And just like that, the familiar fire that only he can form is once again born in you. Using the arrows that you made with him at your side, you take out every walker in sight, until every single one is lying motionless beside whoever it was devouring. As quick as you can, you stab the bodies that were being feasted upon in the temple to ensure none of them sneak up on you, and then your voice returns.
“DARYL!” You holler, pushing your boots into organ splattered soil and starting to run, your entire body trembling as you circle every building and search within them, not bothering to keep your back against the wall, the situation too dire to regard your own safety to such an extent. Anyone or anything that attempted to get in your way now would meet a bitter end, guaranteed.
“DARYL, PLEASE, ANSWER ME!” You yell, eyes like a deer in headlights as you frantically search for him, sprinting out of the last building you needed to search, to no avail.
Your head falls in defeat, and in the corner of your eye, you catch something. Mere inches to the left of you, is a crossbow. There’s too many tears to blink away this time, you wouldnt dare try. Like you were hit with physical blow to the stomach, your knees buckle and you sink into a blur of red and green, your heart sinking so much further down. Quivering lips part to u leash a blood curdling scream, but your ears are ringing too loud to hear it. Then your breath catches in your throat, and the gasp plunges you into deafening silence. Just your own heartbeat, alone in the world, still forever searching for his. Fumbling hands reach for what remains of your person, tracing where his hands held it with numb fingertips, unable to feel anything more than the absence of him.
Mere seconds have passed in reality, but you’ve already lived a thousand agonising lives without him, and have aged through every one.
“(Y/N)?”
And it stops. Your breathing, your heart, the very turn of the earth that you had previously been sinking into. All of it stops dead, but not dead at all. It cant be. With the little that remains of your strength, you lift your head and turn in the direction of the sound you never thought you would hear again.
The view of tear stained stubbled cheeks, stormy Georgia skies in frowning eyes, staring down at you. It blurs with your own tears, your own breath and heartbeat returning to you so suddenly you feel it all, reaching for him with everything you have, because that is exactly what he is.
Daryl Dixon crouches down and scoops you up in leatherbound arms, holding you close to his chest, and your very soul rejoices. His heart pounds through his shirt and his jacket, reaching for yours, and they are together again, at last.
“I-I thought…goddamn it, Daryl.” You sob into the crook of his neck, unable to put into words what you thought had happened to him, but also not wanting to say anything to him other than his name, over and over again, alive.
“Aint ever gonna lose me, sweet girl.” Daryl mumbles into your hair, understanding your fears without you having to voice them, and already consumed with guilt over worrying you in such a way.
You cling to him like your life depends on it, because it does. A sense of stability returning to you allows you to put your boots back on the grass below, standing in front of him and holding his forearms, staring up at him in utter disbelief. Your hands make their way up the arms of his leather jacket until they can cup his face, wiping away the stains of tears that are no longer falling, but have still left their mark, both physically and mentally.
“Im so, so sorry Daryl.” You tell him, so much sincerity in your eyes as you stare up into his, and the storms of those Georgia skies break into heartbreaking rain.
Daryl nods down at you as you wipe away the fresh tears before they can stain him in the same way as the ones before.
“‘m sorry too.” He apologises, and you shake your head, wordlessly dismissing his apology because it was entirely unnecessary. How on earth was he supposed to know that you would appear at the exact moment he happened to be away from his crossbow, and that you would then assume he was dead?
Pulling him close, Daryl tucks his head into your neck and sniffles, clutching onto you as tears rock through him, landing on the skin of your neck and shoulder as you share the weight of his grief.
In between sobs, Daryl manages to explain what he thought Merle must have done to lead him here, that he’d willingly let Michonne go and Daryl had bumped into her much like you had on your way to him.
“After...I jus’ sorta disappeared. Dropped ma crossbow here ‘n’ jus’ walked off into th’ woods, couldnt hear or see nothin’, couldnt think.” Daryl sniffles. “‘n’ then I heard ya, shoutin’ for me, ‘n’ thought I was hearin’ things, until I heard ya scream. Like somethin’ clicked, ‘n’ I was runnin’ straight back. Had t’ make sure yer safe.” He pulls away slightly to hold your face in his hands, running his fingers through your hair and brushing your own tears away with his thumbs. Tears at the thought of your safety being the one thing to bring him back from wherever it was he had lost himself.
You hold your hands over Daryl’s, leaning up to capture his lips with your own. The kiss is brief, but it’s slow, sincere, and says everything that neither of you have the time to right now. People are counting on you, so for now the important sentiments and words have to be put on the same familiar backburner as your sleepless nights. Sometime later, when stars align and the world is quiet again, just for a moment, then you will have the time. But for now, it is all felt, understood, and unsaid.
Pulling away from the love of your life, you smile up at him, and he manages a small, but real, smile back at you. Squeezing his hands, you take them away from your face and hold them at your sides. The world arounds you continues to turn, and your hearts continue to beat, which can only mean one thing.
“Time to go home?” You ask quietly, afraid to disturb the peace, but knowing it’s inevitable.
“Yeah.” Daryl agrees, squeezing your hands and then letting go of one to grab his crossbow and swing it over his shoulder.
And, with your bow on your shoulder, his crossbow on his, and your hands swinging between you with pinky fingers intertwined, you begin your journey into something else that could mean the end for you both. But facing such things with the one you love is the meaning of being alive, these days.
A/N: if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post
Hide ‘N’ Seek
With a heavy sigh, you fall to the grass beside Maggie, who chuckles at your over dramatic display of exhaustion as she tends to the various crops in the patches of earth around you both, checking which are ready to harvest and making a mental note of the ones that may need a few more days. Keeping your eyes closed to shield you from the sun that beats down on you from above, you pant and spread your limbs out like a starfish.
“Long day?” She asks you sarcastically, knowing as well as you do that it’s barely even midday.
“The longest…of all time!” Your chest heaves with your words.
Hearing a child’s voice in the distance, your eyes snap open and you flop over onto your front, trying to hide in the grass.
“Dont give me away!” You hiss at Maggie, who follows your gaze to the prison doors, seeing the small band of children dispersing, and laughs.
“Hide an’ seek again?” She guesses, and you nod.
“This is round 46, and I am going to beat those little shits this ti-“ Your words get caught in your own throat, “-Oh god!”
Maggie frowns at you, then looks back to the prison and all but throws her head back she’s laughing so hard.
The beloved little angels that you’ve been spending your days entertaining have sought the help of the best tracker the prison knows in order to determine your whereabouts. Now, perhaps, if Daryl were busy, or didnt know you, or was an asshole, he would shrug the kids off and tell them to go and play somewhere else. Unfortunately for you, none of those things happen to be true today, and you watch in absolute horror as Daryl crouches down to the kids level, pretending to forge a trail out of nothing on the ground below, knowing you couldnt have possibly left any shoe prints on the concrete courtyard. He points his index finger down at the ground, trying to show the kids the invisible trail and pointing to where it leads, his finger ending up pointing directly to the spot beside Maggie, at the other end of the prison field, where you are lamely hiding.
Even from this distance, Daryl locks eyes with you and sends a smile across the way that he reserves only for you. But now is not the time for romance, this is war. The kids all point at you as they yell your name, and you jump to your feet, raising your hands in surrender. Then, you grin at them, drop your hands and run for it. Where, within the prison walls, you can possibly escape them is yet to be discovered, but you’ll find a way.
The kids chase you all around the edge of the fence, back to the courtyard where Daryl is standing and watching. Leaning against the fence, cigarette held to his smirking lips with one hand while the other holds his crossbow by his legs. The epitome of cool, calm and collected, as you sprint past him with a sweaty, panting scowl.
“Screw you!” You yell, and Daryl just laughs.
“Don’ play games ya cant win!” He calls after you, and you cant help smiling as you run back inside the prison.
Jumping between some people, swerving to avoid running straight into others, your boots make an uneven, fast paced beat against the grey concrete floors. You can hear the squeals of the kids that are somehow still hot on your heels, years of youth that you have lost and they are still gaining keeping them with boundless energy in comparison to your withering stamina. It’s not like walkers need you to run this fast for this long.
Eventually, you make it back to the makeshift library/classroom, and you yield, falling to your knees and holding your hands up in a real surrender this time. The kids flood in through the door, staring at the back of you in a moment’s silence before erupting in victorious cheers.
Rolling your eyes, you turn to face them and fall to sit back onto the carpet.
“Oh, please, you guys never would have found me if it wasnt for Daryl!”
“Would to!” The kids argue, and you sigh.
“You guys are so predictable.” Pulling yourself to your feet, you clap your hands together. “Right, I dont know about all of you, but Im so hungry that I might start eating some of you in a minute, then you’ll be in trouble!”
Beside you, a little blonde girl, Mika, smiles up at you. “Daryl would still save us!”
In response, you nod. “I’d hope so! What a terrible boyfriend he’d be if he let me eat the kids!”
And as if to emphasise your point, you make pretend gobble noises and start chasing the children out of the room, back into the courtyard where Carol is serving lunch.
Seeking out Maggie and Glenn’s table has become a daily occurrence at lunchtime by now, and you take your usual seat opposite them, placing two bowls of squirrel stew on the wooden picnic table.
“How’s fence duty today, Glendale?” You ask him, grinning as he rolls his eyes at his least favourite nickname.
“Hot, stinks like rotting shit.” He answers, and you nod, looking between him and Maggie.
“Wouldnt expect that at all, thanks for the insight Glenda, I’ll let Elphaba know.”
Maggie chuckles and shakes her head, while Glenn sighs. “I still dont understand that one.”
You wave him off. “Dont need to, it’s mainly for my amusement.”
The pair opposite you begin tucking into their stew, but you wait, holding your spoon beside your bowl idly and glancing between Maggie and Glenn’s heads at the view of the prison field beyond them. Sure enough, within a few seconds, a certain someone rounds the corner, crossbow swung over his shoulder and his expression a harsh scowl in the blinding sun.
Seeing the look on your face, Maggie grins.
“Think loverboy might be comin’!” She teases, and you roll your eyes, but you’re in no position to argue.
Catching sight of you, Daryl makes a beeline for the table. His gaze stays locks with yours until he’s standing beside you, and only then does he notice the bowl of stew you’ve placed at the empty seat beside you.
“Thanks.” He says, a man of few words but endless meaning within every one he shares with you.
Taking the seat beside you, the two of you share a longing smile and then remember you have company. But, of course, Maggie and Glenn are just grinning at you. Well, Maggie is. Glenn is trying to grin without letting any of his current mouthful of stew spill.
Nudging Daryl, you scowl at him playfully. “Cant believe you’d rat me out to the kids like that, foul play.”
Already spooning a large lump of squirrel meat into his mouth with a small smile, Daryl shrugs. “Aint my fault yer shit at hide ‘n’ seek.”
You roll your eyes. “As if you could hide any better!” Immediately upon those words leaving your mouth, you realise you have made a grave mistake.
Daryl lowers his spoon.
Glenn swallows loudly, sensing the humorous tension. “(Y/N), you cant be serious, Daryl could run circles around you guys!”
You scoff, deciding to settle in the hole you’ve dug yourself. “Nah, dont think so.”
Daryl raises an eyebrow at you. “Oh, ya dont?”
Smiling, you shake your head. “Nope!”
Daryl takes a second to think about it, then nods. “Fine. Try find me after this.”
Your eyes widen. “Wait, today? But the kids have got actual classes with their actual tutor after lunch!”
With a knowing look in his eye, Daryl smirks. “Not the kids, jus’ you. Come find me after this, if ya can.”
You share a nervous glance with Maggie, but she’s looking at the two of you like this is the best tv show she’s ever seen, and Glenn is shaking his head like you’ve made the worst mistake of your life. Without another word, Daryl continues to inhale his stew, and an entirely different conversation starts. For a man who doesnt usually talk much, Daryl makes a conscious effort to involve himself more in the conversation at the table, just to throw you off and make it impossible for you to start planning out the route around the prison you’re going to travel to try and find him.
Before you know it, all four of you have finished your stew, and you’re rising from the table.
“Okay, so there’s three rules: 1) you have until I’ve finished counting to 100 to hide, 2) you have to stay inside the prison grounds, and 3) you cant change your hiding spot, you have to stay in the same place until you’re found-“ You start explaining, but Daryl cuts you off.
“Or until you give up.” He teases, and your jaw drops, hands settling on your hips.
“I dont know who you think I am, Daryl Dixon, but if you think Im going to just ‘give up’, you clearly havent been paying attention!” The sass radiating from your words is enough to make him chuckle, but when a cool afternoon breeze suddenly brushes over your bare arms and makes you shiver, Daryl is quick to gently run his hand down your arm to provide just a little warmth.
“See ya aroun’, sweet girl.” He says, voice husky and quiet as he closes the space between you and leaves a kiss on forehead.
And just like the wind, in a second, he’s gone.
Staring off after him, you sigh, a soft smile on your face as the butterflies in your stomach float freely all around you.
From a few feet away, Daryl shouts over his shoulder. “Ya started countin’?”
Jumping in your skin, your eyes widen. “U-Uh, ONE…TWO…”
Covering your eyes with your hands, you continue to count. In the back of your mind, you try to think of all the possible places Daryl could be considering as a hiding spot. Knowing him, it’ll be some ridiculous spot in the prison that only he knows about, or that only he knows how to get to, which, to be fair to him, would not be very difficult. He knows better than anyone that you wont venture through the seemingly endless corridors of the prison without him, because you have absolutely no sense of direction. Ever since Rick sent you through to another part of the prison to grab something and you got completely lost until Daryl came and found you standing still, trying your hardest to retrace your steps, and he led you out of what you called a maze and he called “near enough a straight damn line”, you had not ventured through those halls without him. But, also knowing Daryl, he wouldnt put you through the stress of searching through there just to win a petty game like hide and seek. There were undoubtedly still countless places within the prison that he could easily hide, though.
“NINETY-NINE…ONE HUNDRED, READY OR NOT, HERE I COOOME!” You call out, very dramatically, already grinning at the thought of seeing him again.
Having patiently waited for you to finish counting, Maggie sighs and shakes her head. “I cant believe you’ve got Daryl Dixon playing hide’n’ seek with you!”
Shrugging at her words, your smile only grows. “He’d do it for any of the kids, too!”
Maggie rolls her eyes. “You an’ I both know that is not the same thing. He’s different with you.”
A strange mixture of bashfulness and pride rises in you, and you dont know what to say. Instead, you just smile at her and set off to find your man.
It takes about half an hour for you to come to the conclusion that this is the stupidest thing you have ever gotten yourself into, and considering how long that list has gotten since you met Daryl, you have outdone even your best moments. Searching the prison and the grounds within the fence, continually thinking of new spots and getting yourself hyped up every time you jump out in an attempt to scare him, only for him not to be there, is more stupid than the time you told Daryl you knew how to shoot a crossbow just so he’d let you go on a hunt with him at the start of all this, and you gave yourself a black eye with the recoil, in front of the biggest crush of your life. And if you lose this game of hide and seek, it will be more embarrassing than the time you very naively ranted to Glenn about your crush on Daryl back at the farm. Admittedly, you had been tricked into thinking it was a safe space to do so because Glenn had previously been swooning over Maggie, but upon spilling your version of the same affections for a certain someone, Glenn’s face had drained of colour. He had assured you he would try his best not to tell Daryl, but something about the knowledge of your crush on Daryl made him feel like he was lying whenever he spoke to him (which was, at that time, maybe once a week) and didnt mention it. So, naturally, within a few days Glenn had spilled his guts - and by extension, yours - to a completely shell shocked Daryl, who then couldnt look you in the eye for 48 hours. That was a tough break, but it worked out, and you hope that fate will be on your side for this much less important moment, too.
As you start retracing your route around the prison and checking places you may have missed, you cant help running away with your own memories subconsciously. To think that such an awkward, silently besotted beginning has led to the two of you sharing a prison cell. You stop in front of the closed curtain in the doorway and smile fondly, wondering the kind of victory dance that past-you would do if you could tell her that her desperate yearning for the rugged, stoic, cowboy would lead to him storming over to her, taking a laundry basket out of her hands, and saying “Been tryin’ to think of another way t’ do this, an’ I cant.”, before taking ahold of her left hand and staring down at it in a rosy-cheeked daze.
Looking down at your left hand, you can so easily recall the feeling of his hand wrapped around it, then and everyday since. It’s silly to think it in the world today, but you cant help wondering if someday there might be a ring on that finger that’ll give you the same feeling every time you look down at it.
Shaking your head, you pull yourself back to reality, and set back off on your search.
By the time dinner rolls around, you are no closer to finding Daryl Dixon, and you cannot believe he is being petty enough about this to miss dinner. You slump at the same table with Maggie and Glenn, furiously scoffing a cup noodle you know Daryl found on a run last week. The couple opposite you share an amused glance, and it’s Glenn that dares open his mouth first.
“No luck?” He teases, and you scowl at him, his smile and gaze falling so quick it makes Maggie laugh.
“You think he’ll hide all night if you dont find him?” Maggie asks, genuinely curious.
Her questions makes your eyes widen, you hadnt thought of that.
“No way!” You tell her, trying to convince yourself at the same time, but you start to worry.
There’s definitely no way he’ll avoid the regularly scheduled night time cuddle routine, right?
But as the darkness rolls around and the next time you step out of the prison to check outside again, the stars are shining over your head, you really start to wonder. After one last round of the fence, you head back inside and pace the length of your cellblock. No matter how hard you try, you cannot think of a single place you havent checked that Daryl may be hiding. The perch, the watchtower, even the goddamn library - you have looked everywhere! Clasping your fingers at the back of your neck, you throw your head back with your eyes closed and sigh loudly.
“Ya give up?”
Your eyes snap open, and you slowly turn in the direction of the voice you cannot believe you just heard. Very slowly, you walk towards the closed curtain that covers your shared cell. Reaching out your hand, you move the curtain to open the cell, and lo and behold, Daryl Dixon is lying on the bottom bunk, boots off, torch on the floor beside them keeping the room lit up, one leg over the other and a comic book laying open on his chest. The picture of relaxation is, ironically, almost enough to make you scream.
“Are you…Have you been here the entire time?!” You whisper-scream, not wanting to possibly wake anyone that may already be asleep in the cells nearby.
Daryl smirks. “Didnt break yer rules, if tha’s what yer askin’.”
You press your palms against your closed eyes and shake your head, and then you burst out laughing. The stress of the search leaving you with every chuckled exhale, replaced by the reflection of how ridiculously stupid this whole thing has been.
When you lower your hands to cross your arms over your chest, you see Daryl smiling up at you, radiating the smuggest energy you have ever seen from him.
“You heard me walking past here how many goddamn times, and didnt pity me enough to give in ONCE?!” Your tone is accusing, but the grin on your face tells him you’re joking.
Daryl shakes his head and pickshis comic book back up, pretending to read it. “Even saw ya stop right outside a couple times.”
Your jaw drops. “Oh, you asshole.”
Daryl nods at you. “Rather be the asshole than the girl that lost to one.” His tone is so playful, so completely relaxed with you, you cant help but burst out laughing at the kind of joke he would only ever make with you.
Closing the distance between the two of you, you sit down beside him on the bottom bunk.
“Did you have a nice time, cooped up in here all day?” You ask, nudging his shoulder with yours.
Dropping his comic, Daryl sits up and turns to you. “Closest thing to a holiday ‘ve ever had.”
Even in such a funny situation, he always finds a way to tug at your heartstrings.
“Maybe you should take more holidays!” You suggest, smiling at him.
A smirk tugs at the corner of Daryl’s mouth. “Maybe…Think I might wan’ some company next time, though.”
You raise your eyebrows. “Oh, is that so? Well, Im honoured!”
Daryl shrugs. “Think Glenn said one time he’d love a holiday.” He watches you carefully, and when you give him the desired reaction of a gasp in mock-horror and a playful poke to his shoulder, Daryl Dixon laughs like a school boy who just pulled the greatest prank of all time.
Swinging an arm around your shoulder, he pulls you into his side and holds you there, your head resting on his chest, his chin on top of your head and his fingers drawing patterns on your shoulder absentmindedly. A comfortable silence falls over the two of you, like a warm blanket in the middle of Winter, and you melt into each other. It takes you a second to register that Daryl has stopped drawing patterns, and is actually trying to write something on your skin with his fingertips. Focussing your attention on his movements, you try to figure out what he’s writing.
Love…you…be…
Daryl pauses for a second.
…u…tiful?
His hesitation to spell and then fail the spelling of beautiful sends you both over the edge, and even though Daryl had no idea you’d realised what he was doing, you both start laughing so hard you’re wheezing.
As you settle back down, you sit up and face him.
“I love you too, handsome.” You grin at him, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his.
Daryl leans in, ever so gently nudging his nose against yours, his cheeks flushed pink and eyes closed, before he takes your top lip between his in a kiss so soft you doubt anyone else would believe it came from Daryl, but you know, and so does he.
“Don’ know what you do t’ me, woman.” He mumbles against your lips, scoffing lightly in disbelief.
“Wish more people got to see this side of you, but Im glad to be the first.” You reply, your voice hushed.
Daryl shakes his head. “Firs’ an’ only.” He corrects you.
Cozying up under the covers, you turn off the torch beside the bunkbed and snuggle into each other. Something about being in the dark always makes you feel closer. From your place on Daryl’s chest, you turn your head to look up at him.
“Can I ask you something?” You whisper.
“Anythin’.” He answers immediately, his own whisper far huskier than yours.
Thinking back to the passing, jokey comment you made to the kids earlier, you try to think of a light way to phrase your question.
“Still there?” Daryl asks into the dark, and you giggle.
“Yeah, sorry, just thinking.” You clarify.
Your hesitance makes Daryl a little nervous, and he shifts uncomfortably, not liking whatever it is that you’re having to really think about before saying to him.
“About what?”
You sigh. “It’s just, when I was with the kids earlier today, I was saying they’d only won because of you; I made a joke about being so hungry I might start gobbling them up, and Mika said you’d come and save them if that ever happened, and without thinking I was like ‘well I should hope so!’ but, thinking about it now, I feel like…I dont know, was that the right thing to say?”
Daryl deliberates, but still strokes down your arms comfortingly, knowing how much your mind can burden you with overthinking things, much like his can.
Eventually, he manages to put his thoughts into words. “Don’ think what ya said was wrong, jus’ aint completely true.”
You frown at this. “How so?”
This time, Daryl doesnt need time to think. “Not somethin’ we should be thinkin’ about, but if tha’s how it went down, I’d get the kids out of the way. Save ‘em by lockin’ ‘em out the room or sum’. Would lock myself in the room with you.”
Your frown falls, and when you speak up again, your voice is even quieter. “And then?”
Daryl doesnt say anything, he doesnt need to.
In the dark, you nod against his chest.
“So, it’s forever then?”
Kissing the top of your head, Daryl breathes into your hair. “Forever.” He gives your body a gentle squeeze. “But tha’s never gonna happen, so aint a point worryin’.”
You lift your head from his chest. “How do you know?”
“Wont let it.” Daryl says simply.
You chuckle. “That’s it?”
Daryl nods. “Tha’s it.”
It’s impossible to see him now, your shared cell is pitch black, but in your mind you can so perfectly picture the dead serious expression on Daryl’s face, and you bury your giggles in his chest in an effort to muffle them. With one hand on your back and the other holding the back of your head, Daryl starts running his fingers through your hair, against your scalp; an action he knows will send you to sleep in seconds.
“Goodnight Daryl.” You whisper.
“Night, sweet girl.” He replies.
“Love you to the moon and back.” You hold his hand and bring it to your face to kiss his palm.
Holding the side of your face, Daryl caresses your cheek with his thumb.
spoilers: mention of season 3/4 location & characters
A/N: now I want you all to form an orderly queue at my ask box to give me your stunned reactions to me not being dead 😌
The Hidden Obvious
With a heavy sigh, you fall to the grass beside Maggie, who chuckles at your over dramatic display of exhaustion as she tends to the various crops in the patches of earth around you both, checking which are ready to harvest and making a mental note of the ones that may need a few more days. Keeping your eyes closed to shield you from the sun that beats down on you from above, you pant and spread your limbs out like a starfish.
“Long day?” She asks you sarcastically, knowing as well as you do that it’s barely even midday.
“The longest…of all time!” Your chest heaves with your words.
Hearing a child’s voice in the distance, your eyes snap open and you flop over onto your front, trying to hide in the grass.
“Dont give me away!” You hiss at Maggie, who follows your gaze to the prison doors, seeing the small band of children dispersing, and laughs.
“Hide an’ seek again?” She guesses, and you nod.
“This is round 46, and I am going to beat those little shits this ti-“ Your words get caught in your own throat, “-Oh god!”
Maggie frowns at you, then looks back to the prison and all but throws her head back she’s laughing so hard.
The beloved little angels that you’ve been spending your days entertaining have sought the help of the best tracker the prison knows in order to determine your whereabouts. Now, perhaps, if Daryl were busy, or didnt know you, or was an asshole, he would shrug the kids off and tell them to go and play somewhere else. Unfortunately for you, none of those things happen to be true today, and you watch in absolute horror as Daryl crouches down to the kids level, pretending to forge a trail out of nothing on the ground below, knowing you couldnt have possibly left any shoe prints on the concrete courtyard. He points his index finger down at the ground, trying to show the kids the invisible trail and pointing to where it leads, his finger ending up pointing directly to the spot beside Maggie, at the other end of the prison field, where you are lamely hiding.
Even from this distance, Daryl locks eyes with you and sends a smile across the way that he reserves only for you. But now is not the time for romance, this is war. The kids all point at you as they yell your name, and you jump to your feet, raising your hands in surrender. Then, you grin at them, drop your hands and run for it. Where, within the prison walls, you can possibly escape them is yet to be discovered, but you’ll find a way.
The kids chase you all around the edge of the fence, back to the courtyard where Daryl is standing and watching. Leaning against the fence, cigarette held to his smirking lips with one hand while the other holds his crossbow by his legs. The epitome of cool, calm and collected, as you sprint past him with a sweaty, panting scowl.
“Screw you!” You yell, and Daryl just laughs.
“Don’ play games ya cant win!” He calls after you, and you cant help smiling as you run back inside the prison.
Jumping between some people, swerving to avoid running straight into others, your boots make an uneven, fast paced beat against the grey concrete floors. You can hear the squeals of the kids that are somehow still hot on your heels, years of youth that you have lost and they are still gaining keeping them with boundless energy in comparison to your withering stamina. It’s not like walkers need you to run this fast for this long.
Eventually, you make it back to the makeshift library/classroom, and you yield, falling to your knees and holding your hands up in a real surrender this time. The kids flood in through the door, staring at the back of you in a moment’s silence before erupting in victorious cheers.
Rolling your eyes, you turn to face them and fall to sit back onto the carpet.
“Oh, please, you guys never would have found me if it wasnt for Daryl!”
“Would to!” The kids argue, and you sigh.
“You guys are so predictable.” Pulling yourself to your feet, you clap your hands together. “Right, I dont know about all of you, but Im so hungry that I might start eating some of you in a minute, then you’ll be in trouble!”
Beside you, a little blonde girl, Mika, smiles up at you. “Daryl would still save us!”
In response, you nod. “I’d hope so! What a terrible boyfriend he’d be if he let me eat the kids!”
And as if to emphasise your point, you make pretend gobble noises and start chasing the children out of the room, back into the courtyard where Carol is serving lunch.
Seeking out Maggie and Glenn’s table has become a daily occurrence at lunchtime by now, and you take your usual seat opposite them, placing two bowls of squirrel stew on the wooden picnic table.
“How’s fence duty today, Glendale?” You ask him, grinning as he rolls his eyes at his least favourite nickname.
“Hot, stinks like rotting shit.” He answers, and you nod, looking between him and Maggie.
“Wouldnt expect that at all, thanks for the insight Glenda, I’ll let Elphaba know.”
Maggie chuckles and shakes her head, while Glenn sighs. “I still dont understand that one.”
You wave him off. “Dont need to, it’s mainly for my amusement.”
The pair opposite you begin tucking into their stew, but you wait, holding your spoon beside your bowl idly and glancing between Maggie and Glenn’s heads at the view of the prison field beyond them. Sure enough, within a few seconds, a certain someone rounds the corner, crossbow swung over his shoulder and his expression a harsh scowl in the blinding sun.
Seeing the look on your face, Maggie grins.
“Think loverboy might be comin’!” She teases, and you roll your eyes, but you’re in no position to argue.
Catching sight of you, Daryl makes a beeline for the table. His gaze stays locks with yours until he’s standing beside you, and only then does he notice the bowl of stew you’ve placed at the empty seat beside you.
“Thanks.” He says, a man of few words but endless meaning within every one he shares with you.
Taking the seat beside you, the two of you share a longing smile and then remember you have company. But, of course, Maggie and Glenn are just grinning at you. Well, Maggie is. Glenn is trying to grin without letting any of his current mouthful of stew spill.
Nudging Daryl, you scowl at him playfully. “Cant believe you’d rat me out to the kids like that, foul play.”
Already spooning a large lump of squirrel meat into his mouth with a small smile, Daryl shrugs. “Aint my fault yer shit at hide ‘n’ seek.”
You roll your eyes. “As if you could hide any better!” Immediately upon those words leaving your mouth, you realise you have made a grave mistake.
Daryl lowers his spoon.
Glenn swallows loudly, sensing the humorous tension. “(Y/N), you cant be serious, Daryl could run circles around you guys!”
You scoff, deciding to settle in the hole you’ve dug yourself. “Nah, dont think so.”
Daryl raises an eyebrow at you. “Oh, ya dont?”
Smiling, you shake your head. “Nope!”
Daryl takes a second to think about it, then nods. “Fine. Try find me after this.”
Your eyes widen. “Wait, today? But the kids have got actual classes with their actual tutor after lunch!”
With a knowing look in his eye, Daryl smirks. “Not the kids, jus’ you. Come find me after this, if ya can.”
You share a nervous glance with Maggie, but she’s looking at the two of you like this is the best tv show she’s ever seen, and Glenn is shaking his head like you’ve made the worst mistake of your life. Without another word, Daryl continues to inhale his stew, and an entirely different conversation starts. For a man who doesnt usually talk much, Daryl makes a conscious effort to involve himself more in the conversation at the table, just to throw you off and make it impossible for you to start planning out the route around the prison you’re going to travel to try and find him.
Before you know it, all four of you have finished your stew, and you’re rising from the table.
“Okay, so there’s three rules: 1) you have until I’ve finished counting to 100 to hide, 2) you have to stay inside the prison grounds, and 3) you cant change your hiding spot, you have to stay in the same place until you’re found-“ You start explaining, but Daryl cuts you off.
“Or until you give up.” He teases, and your jaw drops, hands settling on your hips.
“I dont know who you think I am, Daryl Dixon, but if you think Im going to just ‘give up’, you clearly havent been paying attention!” The sass radiating from your words is enough to make him chuckle, but when a cool afternoon breeze suddenly brushes over your bare arms and makes you shiver, Daryl is quick to gently run his hand down your arm to provide just a little warmth.
“See ya aroun’, sweet girl.” He says, voice husky and quiet as he closes the space between you and leaves a kiss on forehead.
And just like the wind, in a second, he’s gone.
Staring off after him, you sigh, a soft smile on your face as the butterflies in your stomach float freely all around you.
From a few feet away, Daryl shouts over his shoulder. “Ya started countin’?”
Jumping in your skin, your eyes widen. “U-Uh, ONE…TWO…”
Covering your eyes with your hands, you continue to count. In the back of your mind, you try to think of all the possible places Daryl could be considering as a hiding spot. Knowing him, it’ll be some ridiculous spot in the prison that only he knows about, or that only he knows how to get to, which, to be fair to him, would not be very difficult. He knows better than anyone that you wont venture through the seemingly endless corridors of the prison without him, because you have absolutely no sense of direction. Ever since Rick sent you through to another part of the prison to grab something and you got completely lost until Daryl came and found you standing still, trying your hardest to retrace your steps, and he led you out of what you called a maze and he called “near enough a straight damn line”, you had not ventured through those halls without him. But, also knowing Daryl, he wouldnt put you through the stress of searching through there just to win a petty game like hide and seek. There were undoubtedly still countless places within the prison that he could easily hide, though.
“NINETY-NINE…ONE HUNDRED, READY OR NOT, HERE I COOOME!” You call out, very dramatically, already grinning at the thought of seeing him again.
Having patiently waited for you to finish counting, Maggie sighs and shakes her head. “I cant believe you’ve got Daryl Dixon playing hide’n’ seek with you!”
Shrugging at her words, your smile only grows. “He’d do it for any of the kids, too!”
Maggie rolls her eyes. “You an’ I both know that is not the same thing. He’s different with you.”
A strange mixture of bashfulness and pride rises in you, and you dont know what to say. Instead, you just smile at her and set off to find your man.
It takes about half an hour for you to come to the conclusion that this is the stupidest thing you have ever gotten yourself into, and considering how long that list has gotten since you met Daryl, you have outdone even your best moments. Searching the prison and the grounds within the fence, continually thinking of new spots and getting yourself hyped up every time you jump out in an attempt to scare him, only for him not to be there, is more stupid than the time you told Daryl you knew how to shoot a crossbow just so he’d let you go on a hunt with him at the start of all this, and you gave yourself a black eye with the recoil, in front of the biggest crush of your life. And if you lose this game of hide and seek, it will be more embarrassing than the time you very naively ranted to Glenn about your crush on Daryl back at the farm. Admittedly, you had been tricked into thinking it was a safe space to do so because Glenn had previously been swooning over Maggie, but upon spilling your version of the same affections for a certain someone, Glenn’s face had drained of colour. He had assured you he would try his best not to tell Daryl, but something about the knowledge of your crush on Daryl made him feel like he was lying whenever he spoke to him (which was, at that time, maybe once a week) and didnt mention it. So, naturally, within a few days Glenn had spilled his guts - and by extension, yours - to a completely shell shocked Daryl, who then couldnt look you in the eye for 48 hours. That was a tough break, but it worked out, and you hope that fate will be on your side for this much less important moment, too.
As you start retracing your route around the prison and checking places you may have missed, you cant help running away with your own memories subconsciously. To think that such an awkward, silently besotted beginning has led to the two of you sharing a prison cell. You stop in front of the closed curtain in the doorway and smile fondly, wondering the kind of victory dance that past-you would do if you could tell her that her desperate yearning for the rugged, stoic, cowboy would lead to him storming over to her, taking a laundry basket out of her hands, and saying “Been tryin’ to think of another way t’ do this, an’ I cant.”, before taking ahold of her left hand and staring down at it in a rosy-cheeked daze.
Looking down at your left hand, you can so easily recall the feeling of his hand wrapped around it, then and everyday since. It’s silly to think it in the world today, but you cant help wondering if someday there might be a ring on that finger that’ll give you the same feeling every time you look down at it.
Shaking your head, you pull yourself back to reality, and set back off on your search.
By the time dinner rolls around, you are no closer to finding Daryl Dixon, and you cannot believe he is being petty enough about this to miss dinner. You slump at the same table with Maggie and Glenn, furiously scoffing a cup noodle you know Daryl found on a run last week. The couple opposite you share an amused glance, and it’s Glenn that dares open his mouth first.
“No luck?” He teases, and you scowl at him, his smile and gaze falling so quick it makes Maggie laugh.
“You think he’ll hide all night if you dont find him?” Maggie asks, genuinely curious.
Her questions makes your eyes widen, you hadnt thought of that.
“No way!” You tell her, trying to convince yourself at the same time, but you start to worry.
There’s definitely no way he’ll avoid the regularly scheduled night time cuddle routine, right?
But as the darkness rolls around and the next time you step out of the prison to check outside again, the stars are shining over your head, you really start to wonder. After one last round of the fence, you head back inside and pace the length of your cellblock. No matter how hard you try, you cannot think of a single place you havent checked that Daryl may be hiding. The perch, the watchtower, even the goddamn library - you have looked everywhere! Clasping your fingers at the back of your neck, you throw your head back with your eyes closed and sigh loudly.
“Ya give up?”
Your eyes snap open, and you slowly turn in the direction of the voice you cannot believe you just heard. Very slowly, you walk towards the closed curtain that covers your shared cell. Reaching out your hand, you move the curtain to open the cell, and lo and behold, Daryl Dixon is lying on the bottom bunk, boots off, torch on the floor beside them keeping the room lit up, one leg over the other and a comic book laying open on his chest. The picture of relaxation is, ironically, almost enough to make you scream.
“Are you…Have you been here the entire time?!” You whisper-scream, not wanting to possibly wake anyone that may already be asleep in the cells nearby.
Daryl smirks. “Didnt break yer rules, if tha’s what yer askin’.”
You press your palms against your closed eyes and shake your head, and then you burst out laughing. The stress of the search leaving you with every chuckled exhale, replaced by the reflection of how ridiculously stupid this whole thing has been.
When you lower your hands to cross your arms over your chest, you see Daryl smiling up at you, radiating the smuggest energy you have ever seen from him.
“You heard me walking past here how many goddamn times, and didnt pity me enough to give in ONCE?!” Your tone is accusing, but the grin on your face tells him you’re joking.
Daryl shakes his head and pickshis comic book back up, pretending to read it. “Even saw ya stop right outside a couple times.”
Your jaw drops. “Oh, you asshole.”
Daryl nods at you. “Rather be the asshole than the girl that lost to one.” His tone is so playful, so completely relaxed with you, you cant help but burst out laughing at the kind of joke he would only ever make with you.
Closing the distance between the two of you, you sit down beside him on the bottom bunk.
“Did you have a nice time, cooped up in here all day?” You ask, nudging his shoulder with yours.
Dropping his comic, Daryl sits up and turns to you. “Closest thing to a holiday ‘ve ever had.”
Even in such a funny situation, he always finds a way to tug at your heartstrings.
“Maybe you should take more holidays!” You suggest, smiling at him.
A smirk tugs at the corner of Daryl’s mouth. “Maybe…Think I might wan’ some company next time, though.”
You raise your eyebrows. “Oh, is that so? Well, Im honoured!”
Daryl shrugs. “Think Glenn said one time he’d love a holiday.” He watches you carefully, and when you give him the desired reaction of a gasp in mock-horror and a playful poke to his shoulder, Daryl Dixon laughs like a school boy who just pulled the greatest prank of all time.
Swinging an arm around your shoulder, he pulls you into his side and holds you there, your head resting on his chest, his chin on top of your head and his fingers drawing patterns on your shoulder absentmindedly. A comfortable silence falls over the two of you, like a warm blanket in the middle of Winter, and you melt into each other. It takes you a second to register that Daryl has stopped drawing patterns, and is actually trying to write something on your skin with his fingertips. Focussing your attention on his movements, you try to figure out what he’s writing.
Love…you…be…
Daryl pauses for a second.
…u…tiful?
His hesitation to spell and then fail the spelling of beautiful sends you both over the edge, and even though Daryl had no idea you’d realised what he was doing, you both start laughing so hard you’re wheezing.
As you settle back down, you sit up and face him.
“I love you too, handsome.” You grin at him, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his.
Daryl leans in, ever so gently nudging his nose against yours, his cheeks flushed pink and eyes closed, before he takes your top lip between his in a kiss so soft you doubt anyone else would believe it came from Daryl, but you know, and so does he.
“Don’ know what you do t’ me, woman.” He mumbles against your lips, scoffing lightly in disbelief.
“Wish more people got to see this side of you, but Im glad to be the first.” You reply, your voice hushed.
Daryl shakes his head. “Firs’ an’ only.” He corrects you.
Cozying up under the covers, you turn off the torch beside the bunkbed and snuggle into each other. Something about being in the dark always makes you feel closer. From your place on Daryl’s chest, you turn your head to look up at him.
“Can I ask you something?” You whisper.
“Anythin’.” He answers immediately, his own whisper far huskier than yours.
Thinking back to the passing, jokey comment you made to the kids earlier, you try to think of a light way to phrase your question.
“Still there?” Daryl asks into the dark, and you giggle.
“Yeah, sorry, just thinking.” You clarify.
Your hesitance makes Daryl a little nervous, and he shifts uncomfortably, not liking whatever it is that you’re having to really think about before saying to him.
“About what?”
You sigh. “It’s just, when I was with the kids earlier today, I was saying they’d only won because of you; I made a joke about being so hungry I might start gobbling them up, and Mika said you’d come and save them if that ever happened, and without thinking I was like ‘well I should hope so!’ but, thinking about it now, I feel like…I dont know, was that the right thing to say?”
Daryl deliberates, but still strokes down your arms comfortingly, knowing how much your mind can burden you with overthinking things, much like his can.
Eventually, he manages to put his thoughts into words. “Don’ think what ya said was wrong, jus’ aint completely true.”
You frown at this. “How so?”
This time, Daryl doesnt need time to think. “Not somethin’ we should be thinkin’ about, but if tha’s how it went down, I’d get the kids out of the way. Save ‘em by lockin’ ‘em out the room or sum’. Would lock myself in the room with you.”
Your frown falls, and when you speak up again, your voice is even quieter. “And then?”
Daryl doesnt say anything, he doesnt need to.
In the dark, you nod against his chest.
“So, it’s forever then?”
Kissing the top of your head, Daryl breathes into your hair. “Forever.” He gives your body a gentle squeeze. “But tha’s never gonna happen, so aint a point worryin’.”
You lift your head from his chest. “How do you know?”
“Wont let it.” Daryl says simply.
You chuckle. “That’s it?”
Daryl nods. “Tha’s it.”
It’s impossible to see him now, your shared cell is pitch black, but in your mind you can so perfectly picture the dead serious expression on Daryl’s face, and you bury your giggles in his chest in an effort to muffle them. With one hand on your back and the other holding the back of your head, Daryl starts running his fingers through your hair, against your scalp; an action he knows will send you to sleep in seconds.
“Goodnight Daryl.” You whisper.
“Night, sweet girl.” He replies.
“Love you to the moon and back.” You hold his hand and bring it to your face to kiss his palm.
Holding the side of your face, Daryl caresses your cheek with his thumb.
OH MY GOODDDDD I JUST SAW THIS RN IN MY MENTIONS AND GODDAMN IF I DIDNT MISS THIS STINKY CROSSBOW WIELDING MF 😭😭
THE PAUSE AT THE SPELLING OF BEAUTIFUL OH HES!?!?!?!?!?!? HELLO?? hes so RIGHT change the spelling RN its officially beutiful now!! DARYL DIXON BABYGIRL AWARD!!
literally we need to get rid of the stigma of questioning once and for all.
call yourself gay. call yourself ace. call yourself a lesbian today and a nonbinary bi trans man tomorrow. its fine. literally no community has ever been harmed by someone thinking that label might apply to them and then discarding it later. anyone who says otherwise is drinking the exclusionary kool-aid and isn’t worth the time it would take to argue with them.
also: it’s okay to identify as cis after having spent time identifying as trans. you weren’t “wrong” or “brainwashed” for identifying as trans, and you aren’t “betraying” or “infiltrating” if you feel better identifying as cis. feelings change. minds change. you don’t owe anyone your identity and you don’t have to stay in a place where you aren’t happy or comfortable. i refuse to use the word “detransition” because discovering the self you love, while not always a linear process, is an ongoing one
Hey it’s ace week and you’re local ace has something to say! I’ve been out as ace for 3 years now and it’s still a big part of my identity that I’m proud of so here’s a lil something for those who need it!
Kabul has fallen, Afghanistan is almost completely under Taliban rule now, and President Ashraf Ghani, has fled. I wasn't alive during the Vietnam war, but having seen the images of Saigon at the end of it, it's impossible not to think of them when seeing the footage of Chinooks airlifting US embassy workers to Kabul airport. l cannot tell you how surreal it is to be watching the news from neighboring Pakistan, sitting next to my grandfather who has been alive for every change of government since the Brits left after the war.
History repeats and repeats and repeats, nobody learns a damn thing, and innocent civilians are the ones that suffer.
250 000 Afghans have left their homes. Many more are going to do so. And that's just the ones who flee. Those who don't will live under a conservative rule that is going to commit crimes against humanity on a daily basis, that is going to ruin the lives of generations to come.
The worst part is, I don't know what else there is to be done at this point. I can only pray that my country will accommodate the incoming refugees, though I fear they won't.
All I ask is that international community keep Afghanistan in their thoughts, and that everyone raises their voice against what is happening, both in terms of what the Taliban is doing, and how the actions of foreign powers led us to this point. The US, the UK, Pakistan, are all at fault, and must be held accountable
kelly supremacy @bakedcrispss - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
