october | infp - 20"Go little arrow, shoot like a wave through the tongue of the taro?"
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── .✦ 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄 ┆ 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧
𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 ; daryl gets injured on a run and can’t fathom why you’re so worried about him
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 ; ‘unspoken thing’ type of relationship, mentions of injuries, blood, angst if you squint, daryl being stubborn
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ; 1k .ᐟ
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ; this man is so stubborn and unaware of how loved he is it makes me so freaking mad sometimes
“‘m fine,” daryl states the second he walks out of the infirmary and sees you, knowing that you would’ve been worrying about him even if all he had sustained was a mere scratch. a part of him looked relieved to see you, but he also knew you were going to be pissed at him for being so reckless.
“no, you’re not,” you shake your head as you meet his side. “denise said you were close to hitting an artery.”
you had been pacing back and forth since the moment he and aaron had returned from their recruitment trip and you saw the blood dripping down his arm. in this world, even the smallest of injuries could turn into something catastrophic without the right medicine and treatment. so seeing him the way that he was had embedded a fear in you, that you didn’t know you had, deep inside your chest.
“denise is exaggeratin’,” he responds, his voice gruff and hoarse to cover up the way his heart fluttered as he saw the concern in your eyes. he hated seeing you like this, knowing that he was the cause of it. he knew you worried about him every time he left alexandria but he didn’t want it to consume you. “was just a scratch.”
“really?” your shoulders slump with disbelief of how nonchalant he was being about it.
“would ya relax?” he says after a few moments of silence, his voice stern yet soft. he places a gentle hand against your cheek, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone, “‘m alright. you’re gettin’ worked up over nothin’.”
you place your hand over his, holding his gaze as you stare up into his blue eyes, "it's not nothing, daryl. it could've been your life on the line."
his heart rate increases rapidly as he stared into your eyes, unable to look away as you gazed up at him. your words and touch causing him to soften as part of the tough persona he constantly displayed in front of others melts away.
“‘m’not dead. ‘s just a scratch. ‘s nothin’ i haven’t dealt with before.” he shakes his head, trying his best to reassure you and resolve the worry that was now causing a crease on your forehead.
“how can you be so calm about this? you could’ve seriously gotten hurt or worse!” you retort, your head lulling back out of frustration. you hated how careless he could be when it came to his own wellbeing.
daryl’s brows furrow at your words now, his fingers gently gripping your chin to force your head back down, so your eyes met his once more. he lets out an exasperated breath through his nostrils, his stare hardening.
“how many times do i have to say ‘m fine?” he replies, his voice sharp. “ya don’t need ta worry.”
you couldn't believe the audacity of him telling you that you didn't need to worry. as if you could just switch it off with a snap of your fingers. you could never understand why he was so careless about his own life, how he could constantly throw himself in danger for the sake of very little.
you turn away from him for a second, your fingers pinching at the bridge of your nose as you let out a deep exhale. you didn't know what to do to make him see just how important he and his life were to you.
he watches you with a slight frown, his irritation slowly melting into regret. he knew you well enough to know that you were frustrated, he could see it in the way your shoulders and jaw were tensing as you turned away from him.
“why can’t you see how valuable and loved you are? why do i have to break myself down just to prove to you how much i care?” you turn back to him, tears now pricking your eyes. “every time you leave alexandria i worry that i’ll never see you again, and the thought of something happening to you while you’re out there-” you stop, your emotions getting the better of you.
he sees the tears welling in your eyes and the look on your face and his heart drops. it was one that he had never witnessed before. you looked so vulnerable, your eyes glistening with unshed tears and your shoulders sloping with defeat. it wasn’t often that you had cried in front of him, but the look of disappointment mixed with hurt and frustration as you struggled to find the words was killing him.
he slowly steps closer to you, his uninjured hand coming to rest on your hip as his eyes soften. he was frustrated at first, unable to understand why his actions had such an impact on you, but seeing you like this made him realise how much he truly cared for you and how much you cared for him.
he swallows, his throat suddenly feeling thick and dry, trying to steady himself before he speaks, “‘m sorry m’puttin this on you. i know ya worry, i just…” he pauses for a moment as he searches for what to say, “…didn’t think it was worth worryin’ about.”
you involuntarily move closer, as if your body knew what you needed before you did, and you rest your forehead against his chin. you knew you were being over dramatic and that daryl could take care of himself, but the images of him being hurt had burnt so deeply into your head.
“just need you safe,” you say, closing your eyes against him.
he closes his eyes with you, feeling you relax against him as you spoke. he brings his hand up from your hip to the small of your back, gently rubbing his thumb against you through the thin material of your shirt, silently reassuring you.
“m’not goin’ anywhere,” he says, his other hand coming up to gently run through your hair. he slowly wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against his chest to feel the steady, yet fast, thump of his heartbeat. “‘m always gonna come back.”
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guys make your oc a photo album is so much fun!!!
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"My everything." Daryl Dixon Imagine.
(Not my gif!)
A sleepless night after your and Daryl's baby was born.
A/N: Just a cheesy imagine hehe sometimes I like to imagine a soft dad!Daryl. I wrote this imagine for my Tom Holland page, so if you ever find it, you know why. Sorry if you see any grammatical errors. Hope you like it! Thank u.
Marley Rose Dixon was one month old now.
She was born in a warm room full of candles, in a blissful and foggy night in which the world of her mother and father was painted with beautiful colors again after walking in a grey world for so long, announcing her arrival with a loud cry that showed her freedom and her desire to live until the doctor (luckily, there was a few in Alexandria) placed her on your chest for the first time.
Marley was named after Daryl's older brother, and you didn't mind because despite everything, you knew how much he loved his brother. At first, the news wasn't easy for either of you two to take in (the option of abortion was considered at length), but the thought of a baby gave you both the hope that something better and more beautiful could come, too. And boy, it did.
Right there, the moment she was born, her blue eyes — identical to her father's — sparkled with the glow of two small diamonds, treasures hidden behind her long lashes from the first time she opened her eyes and gazed, serenely, at her parents, and the new world around her, a better world you two were trying to build for her.
But from that moment on, she cried, cried and cried from time to time.
At 2:54 am, Alexandria is submerged in a cozy dream far from the fear and death, unlike you, and it seems unreachable for you as you walk through your dark room taking soft steps and soft bounces, holding in your arms a small human being created from a great love and blah, blah, blah, other nonsense things you used to believe before being deprived of such a necessary resource, for your sanity and mental health (you didn't sleep much before her, and Daryl even less, but still), But you chuckle, numb from lack of sleep, tired, but at peace with yourself as her little head lies on your right arm and your left hand gently caresses her back, wrapped comfortably in a white blanket with pictures of little elephants, just like the pillow in the shape of the same animal that Uncle Rick found for her during a run.
You love her, you are crazy about her, even if days became difficult and nights were exhausting, (even with the monumental help Carol and the rest of the family gave you), but all the reward is in being able to hold her in your arms, warm and safe. Daryl calls her his angel, his princess, and at the time, it is an appropriate nickname for someone who cries to make her demands heard.
You chuckle, again.
"Is she tellin’ ya a good joke?" Daryl walks into the room, holding a bottle of warm milk in his hand.
You and Carol taught him how to do it, and now, he is an expert. His brown hair is tousled, but it usually is so no one could tell the difference, eyes tired from lack of sleep, shirtless and in gray loose sweatpants he refused to wear at first.
“15 minutes to make the milk? I was starting to get worried actually." You raise an eyebrow, speaking softly. "Why did you take so long? The milk is in the kitchen, not in another country."
"Sorry, sweetheart." Daryl apologizes as he hands you the bottle, sitting on the edge of the bed to watch his daughter stop crying the moment she feels the bottle against her pretty pink lips. "I closed ma eyes and jus' fell asleep for a minute."
You frown, continuing to stroke Marley's back.
"In a chair? On the counter?"
At the sound of your voice, Daryl's head falls until he almost hits his chest with his own chin, waking up from his light sleep before looking back at you. It's still funny to you how easy it was for him to go without sleep all those years, but after a month with Marley, Daryl considered killing walkers an easier task.
"What? No. Standin’. Didn't know that was even possible."
You shake your head gently, looking away to your baby who is enjoying a meal at 3 in the morning, resting peacefully, just like a princess, in your arms with eyes closed, body relaxed, arms outstretched to pretend to hold the bottle in your hand.
“Even dad can get a nap; you sleep whenever you feel like it… so, where is mom's nap? I mean, I've slept an hour every night since you were born, the room is a mess like us, and my breasts hurt too much."
Daryl chuckles.
"Can't help ya with that, darling. In fact, I think that's exactly what got us into this mess."
"What?"
"Yer boobs." Daryl babbles, smiling wearily, eyes closed as he falls against the edge of the bed, only to stop holding his own weight when he can no longer bear it. “Yer incredible, amazing boobs. They’re amazing and I love ‘em so much, but they were the temptation that brought us… this beautiful gift."
You shrug your shoulders, agreeing with him.
"They are amazing, and she is beautiful when she doesn't cry.”
"That's when I love ‘er the most." Daryl answers, and a second later, you both chuckle in unison.
“Although, it was kind of your fault for wanting to do it without a condom, you horny bastard.”
Daryl chuckles, and because he wasn't used to doing that before you, that tiny sound is endearing.
“Ya regret it?”
"Never." You say with confidence, because you know that he did not regret the decision either. You laugh quietly, after a while. “But… you know what I was thinking?”
“Um?”
“That this would be a good time to save money so she can go to a good college.” You joke. But Daryl wasn't used to making jokes, so with the help of the moonlight coming through the window, fighting the darkness of the room, he raises himself slightly to look you in the eyes, his brow slightly furrowed. “Jesus, I’m just kidding.”
Daryl chuckles, falling on the bed again, one arm over his eyes.
“Ya think is a good idea if we teach her how to kill walkers when she gets older? Marley could be the new little ass kicker.”
You smile to yourself, because for some reason, your daughter's name on his lips is like sweet honey. And, although you wanted to protect her from that world, the rules had changed, and in order to survive, she was going to have to learn to take care of herself too. Fortunately, it was still too early to think about that.
So, asleep again, you leave Marley in her crib near the bed before returning to it, laying down next to Daryl as he rolls over onto his left side, taking advantage of the time that you still have until the baby wakes up again, just to repeat the cycle you have been living in since Marley was born.
But life still feels good despite the fatigue and the occasional physical pain, because she was everything you never imagined you could have, not in that world, and she, more beautiful than you had ever dreamed of during the wait.
"Thanks, peach." Daryl whispers, so close to you that you can feel his nose against yours, his hand caressing your waist over your shirt, but you're so tired that it takes you a few seconds to gather your strength to respond.
"Why?"
"For our baby, for lovin’ me, for givin’ me a home. Ya two are ma everythin'."
You smiled, sighing.
"You're welcome, love. We are very, very lucky to have you." You say, taking a breath to answer as you look at him: eyes closed, body finally relaxed after having her on his chest most of the day. He is a good dad, the best. "But still, the next turn is yours alone."
Daryl, amused, looks blindly for the warmth of your body to pull you against him, tickling you slightly and that have you both smiling softly despite the absolute exhaustion, a few seconds before you both can fall into a deep sleep, finally.
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We don't talk enough about how desperate Katniss was to protect Peeta after the games ended. She was so determined to make sure he was safe. The fact that they wouldn't let her see him until the went on cameras again was just another way to extend the torture and another prove that the capitol doesn't give a shit about the victors
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I just binge read all 54 chapters of junebug in a row. I cried all night! I am totally normal about this fanfiction of course.
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i wuv him sm
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"daddy issues," but you have a father who loves you (or really tries to) but doesn't know how to show it right so you never feel loved.
It fucks with your head, man.
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Baking cookies goes wrong and I immediately start considering suicide
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I just finished chapter 1 of Junebug and I already love her fr I would die for her
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I feel like most of the Daryl wattpad series now are just an attempts to recreate future ghosts 😭
#please send recommendations#daryl dixon#twd daryl#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon headcanons#daryl dixon x reader
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Official Commissions Post
I am opening commissions for the first time (I think) to help with the financial burden of missing work for a spinal surgery. Any help is appreciated beyond words 🩵
Who I write for:
Daryl Dixon
Murphy Macmanus
Scud
What I will write:
x Reader (Fem, Male, Gen)
Caryl
Rickyl (I have never done it before, but I will attempt)
Loki x reader
TaserTricks
I will write smut but for 18+ only. We can discuss other things (kinks, etc) in private.
Story length:
Most will be less than 1,000 words but I get carried away sometimes.
Payment:
Pay what you think it’s worth. This is pretty much a trust system deal. I’ll write for you and you can pay after.
I have PayPal, Cashapp, and Venmo.
Turn around time:
I will try to have your commission done within two days. If it will take longer, I will contact you personally.
I’ll add to this post as I think of things. Reblogs help! I love you all, no matter what. Thank you so much. - Murda🩵
Donations and tips can be given here!
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table of contents
You helped build the Sanctuary from the ground up alongside your ruthless partner, Negan Smith. Together, you’ve created an empire—something powerful, something that saves lives. The Sanctuary keeps people safe, warm, and fed, enforcing order in a world ruled by chaos. You take pride in what you’ve built, in the stability your leadership brings, even if it comes at a cost.
But when a prisoner is dragged to your feet—a man battered and beaten but hauntingly familiar—your carefully constructed world begins to crack. His presence dredges up memories you’ve buried and feelings you’ve forced yourself to forget, threatening to unravel the life you’ve built under Negan’s reign.
Now, caught between the man who holds your heart and the man who commands it, you’re forced to navigate a deadly game. To protect the past you thought was gone and the future you’ve fought to secure, you must deny the truth and conceal the growing fractures in your resolve. But in Negan’s world, lies are dangerous, and every choice you make could destroy everything—or everyone—you hold dear.
This fic will explore dark themes, including a morally gray FMC and situations where characters make controversial or questionable choices. It is NSFW and will explore sexual themes, including smut. You may find yourself disagreeing with their actions or decisions. Please proceed with caution and an open mind.
Part I
Part II
Part III
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I hate when people say that Maggie didn't care about Beth
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I need someone to write an os of rick in the CR where he's some kind of winter soldier
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I want to straddle his lap, snuggle under his poncho and hide my face in his neck while he wraps his arms around me.
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