#daryl dixon season one

[sadslay]

- BASOREXIA ⋆☆ 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

(n.) the overwhelming desire, or sudden urge, to kiss someone.

warnings — set during s1 ep6, very short (sorry), light nsfw content

daryl hadn’t known you for long, no more then a few weeks at most but in the short time he had known you, he felt as though he’d known you for years. thanks to not only his brother’s judgements but also his own, he believed you to be some entitled snob that would never looked twice in his direction. his jaw had just about hit the ground when he had discovered you had both grown up in the same neighbourhood, even went to the same community school before him and merle had moved away.

he could never describe the way he felt around you. daryl had always understood he was never smart, not in the ways that mattered or not in the ways that would impress you but he was sure - so goddamn sure - that were was a word or two to describe the way he’d felt about you in the short time he had come to know you. the word daryl was searching for - but would never find - was basorexia.

sitting on a countertop behind a rounded table, watching the others cheer and pour drinks brought a sense of familiarity to you. it reminded you of a simpler time. you focused on lori and rick as they playfully bickered on weather or not their son should try some of the red wine dale was serving, but daryl - who sat beside you, nursing a bottle of beer- was entirely focused on you. the way you looked under the white led lighting of the cdc bunker and the way you giggled as carl pushed away the small cup of wine he had just tried. everything you did was perfect in his eyes, absolutely everything.

“you gonna share that bottle dixon?” you queried, gently nudging into his shoulder as you flashed him cheeky grin.

daryl let out a breathy chuckle, not saying a word before handing you the brown bottle, watching you intently as you brought the bottle up to your lips.

“you should stick to soda pop kid.” shane mumbled as daryl stood up to walk around the table, in hopes to secure another bottle as the current one had almost run out.

“not you glenn.” daryl smiled - that was one of the first times you had seen him genuinely smile - leaning in to grab another bottle before teasing, “keep drinkin’ little man, i wanna see how red your face can get.”

“it seems to me we haven't thanked our host properly.” rick spoke, standing up to look at the man who had reluctantly let us in an hour or so prior.

“he is more than just our host.” t-dog smiled, raising his glass of red wine.

“booyah!” daryl cheered, raising a bottle of spirits into the air before sitting back down beside you, offering you a sip of the new liquor.

you placed the empty bottle of beer beside you before taking the bottle what you assumed was whiskey and cheering, “booyah!” before taking a swig.

“so when are you gonna tell us what the hell happened here, doc?” shane asked, breaking the cheers and thanks coming from around the room, and almost instantly everyone fell quiet. “all the ah the other doctors that were supposed to be figuring out what happened, where are they?” he asked, looking at the lone scientist.

“we're celebrating, shane.” rick answered quickly, sitting back down beside his son. “don't need to do this now.” he added.

“whoa, wait a second. this is why we're here, right?” shane asked rhetorically, looking at rick before continuing. “this was your move, supposed to find all the answers but instead we uh we found him.” shane explained, his very tome and expression seeming on edge and untrusting. “found one man. why?”

“well, when things got bad, a lot of people just left. went off to be with their families and when things got worse, when the military got overrun, the rest bolted.” the scientist explained, the entire mood shifting.

“every last one?” shane asked sarcastically.

“no, many couldn't face walking out the door. they... opted out. there was a rash of suicides. that was a bad time.” the scientist continued, his voice shaky as he explained the fate of the cdc.

“you didn't leave. why?” andrea asked, placing her half empty glass of wine onto the crowded table.

“i just kept working. hoping to do some good.” he explained.

“dude, you are such a buzzkill, man.” glenn groaned, looking at shane as he slumped back into his chair.

later that night, after every had begun settling in for the night you found yourself lying awake in a sleeping bag a meter or so away from glenn. your hair was still damp from the warm shower you had no more then an hour prior. you pulled yourself up from the sleeping bag, wrapping your arms around your chest before wandering out into the hallway to find all but one light left on. daryls room. the door had been left open, allowing you to lean up against the doorframe as you watched daryl pull a clean shirt over his head and shoulders before noticing the brown bottle by the head of his sleeping bag.

“still hoggin’ the bottle huh dixon?” you giggled, causing daryl to spin around as the rest of his shirt fell down his torso.

he weakly scoffed as his eyes traced up and down your body, most of your legs exposed from the shorts you had found in some drawers while a baggy shirt hid most of your figure.

“d’yer reckon we could find the rest of ‘is stash?” you asked eagerly, looking up at daryl as a breathy chuckle fell from his lips.

“nah, yer cut off woman.” he chortled, as you walked further into his room “yer already drunk as i am.” daryl added.

your eyebrows almost immediately pinched together as you dramatically scoffed, “that shower sobered me up real good.” you teased, bending down to grab the bottle before taking a sip of the room temperature liquor. “‘n what would be so wrong with that?” you asked, folding your arms across your chest.

“nothin’!” he defended, his hands weakly rising into the air before dropping back by his side. “s’just you look like you can’t handle your booze is all.” daryl teased.

you dropped down onto the near by couch as you slurred, “i can handle my liquor jus’ fine.”

closely you watched daryl as he plopped down beside you, taking the brown bottle from your hand before taking another swig.

“women can never handle their liquor.” he mumbled, a weak laugh escaping his lips, making you frown.

“dixon.” you mumbled, looking across to his eyes as they remained focused on the bottle in front of him. “that sounds like a challenge.” you smirked causing the man to look up with a devilish grin plastered on his lips.

he extended his arm, offering the bottle to you. you took the bottle from daryl causing a soft giggle to leave your lips as you brought the rim of the bottle up to your mouth. taking another swig of the brown liquor - burning your throat - you rested the bottle in your lap.

“yer gonna be wasted.” he noted, trying to hide the grin sneaking onto his lips.

“you’ve never even seen me drink,” i scoffed, “for all you know i could’ve been a drunk before all of this rubbish.” i added, handing the bottle back to daryl as he shuffled a little closer.

“‘cept i do, yer told me ‘bout an hour ago that you barely had your first drink before the world went to shi-.” daryl teased, his words cut off as your hand covered his mouth, quietly shushing him.

“i told you that in confidence, and i said first legal drink.” you pouted as daryl’s hand lifted up to connect with yours that was still covering the majority of his mouth.

you could feel daryls breath on the palm of your hand as he let out a small chuckle but as his hands slowly began to peel yours away from his mouth, his lips began to purse, leaving a soft kiss on your skin. you watched him as his lips continued further down your wrist, his hand loosening before finally letting go to reattach at the base of your neck, pulling you closer to him as you lips met. quicker then you could have ever imagined the kiss grew heated and passionate as you found yourselves pulling each other closer. in an act of desperation you pulled yourself onto his lap, resting your knees on either sides of his hips as you sat down on his lap, but it still didn’t feel close enough.

when you had suddenly pulled your lips away from daryls, leaving him confused and afraid that he had overstepped, but as your hands cradled his cheeks and a smile began to creep onto your lips he was left in a state of confusion.

“been waitin’ for yer to do this for a while.” you grinned, your eyes wandering around daryls face, admiring every little detail thanks to the close proximity.

“thought you were only doin’ this cause you’d been drinkin’.” he answered glumly, his hands still loosely hovering over your hips.

you shrugged weakly, a smirk creeping onto your lips as you whispered, “needed some liquid courage.” before your lips connected to his prickled jawline.

“scared of me huh?” he asked, his grip tightening around your waist as your delicate kisses began to tickle his skin.

“m’not scared of you.” you mumbled into the crook of his neck, slowly beginning to work your way back to his lips.

but just as you went to reconnect your lips, daryl slightly pulled away, his eyebrows pinched together as he whispered, “ya think i’d say no to yer?”

you stayed silent, shyly nodding. heavy breaths filled the room as a weak muffled scoff left daryls lips. you let out a little chuckle at your own foolish mind for getting in the way of an action you had been wanting to pursue for some time now.

“didn’t think i was your type.” you commented, combing a piece of hair out of your face before your hand reattached to the base of daryl’s neck.

“didn’t think i was ya type either.” he breathlessly chuckled, his hands remaining firmly gripped onto your waist.

a soft giggle left your lips as your lips momentarily connected with daryls before pulling away to whisper, “your one hundred percent my type.” you smiled, your very words making daryl scoff in disbelief before your lips reconnected with his.

daryl was in heaven on earth. he had never imagined this happening and now with you on his lap, your mouth slowly beginning to part from his lips as you trailed down his chin and jaw, your entire body now beginning to slide down. his chest rose and fell heavily as you rested on your knees, your hands now beginning to fiddle with his belt buckle.

“ya- yer don’ have ta-“ a groan slipped from daryls lips as you began to peel away his jeans, the very action sending him into a euphoric state and with you on your knees before him, something much more lustful and libidinous began to grow.

the following morning daryl woke up to you wrapped around his body, the sleeping bag - intended for one person use - was sprawled out over your two bodies, providing some warmth. your arms were wrapped around his torso, and your legs were intertwined with his. daryl looked down at you, admiring your soft delicate feature as you peacefully slept for the first time in months.

daryl thought you were so deep in sleep that nothing could possibly wake you, so when a strand of your hair fell across your face, tickling your nose and lips, daryls hand rose from his side. as he began to brush away your hair, your eyes began to flutter open, causing daryl to freeze as he trucked the strand of hair behind your ear.

“morning.” you grumbled, your arms pulling away from the warmth of daryls body to stretch.

“mornin’.” he hummed, following your actions of sitting up right, the pair of you sitting shoulder to shoulder. “yer hungover?” daryl teased, beginning to rub his face before combing his hair out of his face.

“shut up.”

[ricksmarlene]

#fall aesthetic in the apocalypse 🍂

[darylsfavoritegirl]

Yk that argument Daryl had with Shane at the barn? Put your own spin on it and include the reader somehow, maybe she even tries to break them up and he is still pissed. Afterwards he goes off to sulk in his anger trying to ignore you, but it’s too hard

۶•ৎ

The Odd Man Out

There you all were, away from Hershel's house, near the barn. Your heart was pumping blood more than what felt like necessary, your knees had become weak, all ready to betray you and cause you to collapse to the ground.

"This is unacceptable, man." Shane breathed out with fire, drawing circles infront of the barn gate.

"All this time..." He didn't finish his sentence and chuckled exasperatedly.

"Shane. Calm down. This is Hershel's land."

"I'll- I'll find a way to figure this-"

Shane came at Rick when Lori got between the two of them, pressing her right hand to Shane's chest. Her eyes scolded him as Shane gave her a quick stare and rolled his eyes.

Shane was staring at the barn gate, hands rested on his hips, shaking his head as all you could hear was him mumbling to himself.

Your eyes scanned the barn and its perimeter, observing every distressed face.

"You know we gotta leave man. Now we been talking about Fort Benning for a while..." Shane turned to all of you as Rick didn't let him say a word and raised his hand as a warning.

"We can't leave." He shook his head.

The side of your eyes caught Carol and how he wrapped her arms around herself, bottom lip trembling, eyes glossy with tears to come.

"My daughter is out there." Her voice was shaky. She looked taken aback as everyone gazed upon her. You could tell she didn't like to be the center of attention, especially at a time like this.

"We're gonna find your daughter, OK?" Lori rushed to Carol, offering a sense of support as she squeezed her arm, they were glued to one another.

Your eyes shifted to Shane as you shielded your eyes from the sun. He studied your face for a second or so. A faint snicker painted his lips. He knew why you had stayed quiet so far, he was the one that you spoke in discreet -though you felt that the cat was gonna be out of the bag any second-

You felt uneasy under his gloomy gaze as you looked away, changing your position in which you rested your entire body weight on one leg, arms crossed. You eyes were fixated on the others for a brief second to see if anyone caught that tense eye contact you happened to make with the most troubled man in the group.

Shane walked past you, not skipping to give you one last dark stare as he made his way to Rick.

"I think it's the time that we all start to just consider the other possibility."

You sensed everyone tilting their heads to his direction. Daryl stood next to you, you almost heard his breathing go more and more shallow, irritation growing denser through his veins as he fixated his eyes on him; squiented as ever, dauntless as ever.

"I ain't leavin' no one behind." He squiented his eyes at him, his body still as a stone as you could see he clenched his jaw firmly.

Shane ran his hand through his shaved head as he clasped his hands over it.

"Nah man, I-" Shane were to start another babbling session on a bothersome argument right when you flinched at Daryl's loud words.

"I'm close ta findin' dis girl. I jus' found a damn doll two days ago" He was coming at Shane when you felt like it was time you partook in this before it got out of hand.

"You found a doll, Daryl. That's what you did, you found a doll."

Shane pressed his lips together as he leered at Carol before speaking.

"All I'm sayin' is she could've been dead by now and we're-"

"Enough. Shane, enough." You looked at him in disbelief, eyes wide with your hand reflexively being up in the air towards his direction as a sense of warning before he took this any further.

"Ya dun' know the hell yer talkin' 'bout."

It was Shane one side and Daryl on the other side. Things got ugly pretty swiftly as you had to step back when Daryl came at him but it wasn't a few seconds later that you stepped in once again, punches flying in the air, some hitting your chin with their elbows. Your head and body were thrown back by their aggression reflected on their action.

Dust particles, the strings of hays that were laid out on the perimeter were awakened by this fallout. Your eyes got stung by them, this was like hell that you had no control in whatsoever.

"Hey, you back off."

"Come on now." Dale asserted.

It was Rick, Lori and you trying to break them up. Under the heat of the sun, with your red faces and greased clothes were you tossed in a fight near a barn full of walkers.

"Leave. Leave now." You demanded Shane. You pointed him with your finger, forehead wrinkled and brows creased as he clapped his hands in an amusing manner.

"You got a real mouth on you, I'll give you that." He cackled and continued with his chest heaving.

"Now you care? 'Cause last time I checked you were the one who said 'it's a waste of time anyway' " He waved his hands next to his head theatrically and thinned his voice as if to mock you.

"That's not what I said prick." You stepped forward, walking slowly as you widened your eyes. You were trying to catch your breath, unevenly panting as your eyes were out of focus.

It was Daryl's voice that stopped you

" 'S this true?" He had his hands on his hips, gazing upon you through his lashes. It was like he was let down, couldn't even stomach looking you in the eyes, though his eyes had an uneasy beam to them, as if what you were about to say meant more than what both of you could ever dare to imagine.

"No" You shook your head, you clenched your fists without noticing. You felt goosebumps swarming all over your body, somehow making you chill under the radiant sun.

"Fuck no." Your head turned to Carol instinctly, and then the others.

It was a moment of suffering. You, standing toe to toe with everyone. Their hesitant stares, their subtle glances that traveled back and forth with everyone else but you had riled you up yet you knew you were in big trouble and perhaps in the wrong.

You spanked your forehead with both of your palms, inhaling a huge breath in as you shut your eyes and stared all of them back.

"Come on. That motherfucker's lyin' to your faces."

" 'S he?" Daryl inquired, though his tone gave away that he thought he knew the answer. You could never wrap your head around how a redneck like him, could be so tender to a woman he despised. Yet there comes to question, didn't he despise you all? What had happened that he was now a decent person, defending someone who wasn't his blood nor his kin like a sworn confidant behind closed door?

Your eyes darted to the others.

"You believe him?"

Them looking down at their shoes was your answer.

"Stupid bitch."

Daryl mumbled under his breath as he walked away with slumped shoulders and a crossbow he had put aside.

Your face went white, shoulders sagging as you did what you had thought of doing all along.

You kept breathing sharply, turning around and lunging at Shane. He took a step back, eyeing Rick specifically to come and get you as he already had done so.

"Lying son of a bitch." You spat, your hair was everywhere on your face. You could hear your heartbeat in your eardrums.

"Easy. Easy." Rick kept his hand above your cleavage, fingers gripping the sides of your arms.

"I'm fine." You fumed as you moved your hair aside from your face.

"Wha's with all tha' if he 's lyin?" Daryl commented while he was tapping his feet to the ground, resembling a jaded eleven-year old in a family gathering. He pointed at you with his hand as he emphasized on the word "that". You had gone mad infront of all of them. You were bewildered, brows raised with a blank stare in your eyes for a few seconds.

"Look, that's not what I said at all." You began. You pouted your face as soon as everyone started putting your words into your mouth and jabbering.

"Geez, am I the only one who gives a damn 'bout this lil' girl?" Daryl snapped, walking around in circles and spreading out his accusing tone to everyone.

You shook your head in apace, trying to select the proper words to utter. You pressed your lips together, face heating under the wrathing heat wave. You looked around like a child in need of emotional support. Hands on your hips as Rick took a step ahead.

"Everyone go. Now. We'll sort this out tonight."

You got a chance to gaze upon Daryl for the first as his eyes were fixated on Carol. After all, they had formed a relationship out of this. You barely remembered anyone getting along with Daryl or him with others. You walked towards the house with thought filling your head and the misconception you felt needed to be debunked.

Few days passed, everyone still being furious with you. Little Sophia coming out of the barn as a walker didn't aid to your situation whatsoever.

You were sitting on a rock near the fields on Hershel's property. One of your elbows were resting on your knee as your other hand was supporting your chin. You were observing the stubble land laid out infront of you, cicadas jumping from one to another.

The wobbly wind was aggravating with the way it was blowing hot air to your face and body when your eye caught someone walking out of the woods into the stubble field.

Your position changed gradually with you fixing your hunchback as your arms fell loose next to you and you stretched your body a few inches taller to see who it was.

Daryl.

His eyes were checking out his surroundings as his crossbow was swinging on his hand. He wiped his hand on his forehead when his eyes noticed you.

Uneasy features were tugged on your face, not knowing what to do or say.

He passed by you, putting his best work not to acknowledge your existence.

"Daryl." You softly said.

Though your hands were resting on the sharp-edged rock , head slightly tilted and eyes scrutinising your knees that had scrapes all over it, you somehow managed to sense him throwing his head back and fully preparing himself to say a word to you.

"Yeah." He reacted.

It took a while for you to turn and face him entirely. He was looking rather fed up with you. His lips were pale and pressed, his goatee beard all tangled, he must've been scratching it and running his fingers through it, you assumed. It was something you had noticed him doing back in the quarry.

"I'm sorry but all I said was 'we might be better off elsewhere' when I happened to be absent-minded around him. You know-"

He squinted his eyes at you, his chest heaving up with a heartburn as he barked.

"Ain't ma headache no more."

"The girl 's dead."

He pointed one of his stained arrow at you, a vein appearing on the side of his neck. He was blaming every inch of you from head to toe.

You stood infront of him, pupils dilated, hands in a loose punch as no amount of air was enough to fill your lungs.

"And I'm terribly sorry-"

"No yea ain't." He came closer at you, crossbow on one hand and arrow on the other. His neck was stretching forward, sweat beading the below of his hairline.

"Don' give me tha' crap." He used his arrow once again, pointing it at you in a circular motion.

"Yer upset only 'cause he outed yea like tha', infront of the whole lot."

"You hear yourself?" You gasped slightly at his words. You were more confused than angry.

"Whatever dis is, keep it ta yerself."

You heard the fading tone in his voice, he grew less and less attentive with you within 5 minutes.

He adjusted his crossbow and arrows on one hand and started ambling towards the house with his hand scratching the back of his neck.

Sun shone through his golden hair, he was walking aimlessly. It was like you had sucked away the energy left in him for the day.

"Your one stupid motherfucker." You hissed, standing on your tiptoes and extending your torso forward to make sure he heard you.

It was all a misunderstanding, Shane twisting your words back then and now no one giving you the time to explain yourself but only putting words into your mouth. You had lost all hope for the situation for the time being, after all it was still so fresh, everyone was still so vulnerable. No one could even dare trying to foresee anything.

"What'd ya say?" He turned his head towards your direction, his body adjusting to his head gradually.

"No one is listening to me but they're believing that troublesack for a man." You fumed in one breath, you avoided eye contact with him.

He blew raspberries without sticking out his tongue, his cynical body language took over your mentality.

"Yer a real peach with yer tears n' all." A half smile on his lips, completely not interested in what you had to say. He had biases about you all along, this was only the cherry on top.

"Do you really think I didn't care about Sophia the slighest?" You asked with an ajar mouth, eyes fixated on his body as in order not to miss anything you could interpret for your own good.

His neck stretched forward once again, the glazing sun was aiming right at him, perhaps this wasn't the best time.

"I ain't yer buddy, ain't yer nothin' " He growled, his hands were gripping his weapon as he wiped his sweat with his arm.

"I sure ain't the one yea should be makin' amends ta" He hushed, turning around.

"I'm not making amends!" You declared.

Which was true, you weren't. You just hoped for to be understood and not have everyone jump into conclusions about you.

You heard him murmur "Sure sounds like it." As he was making his way through the long stubble to the van.

That night, on a chilly weather were you above the van with Dale as you were assigned to assist him during his watch.

You sat on one of the camp stools, shotgun laying between your thighs vertically. Though Dale was sitting infront of you, your eyes were fixated behind him. The long roads, the long fields.

"Hey, old man. Rick wants yea back at the house."

You flinched at Daryl's voice becoming less and less muffled as he came near the van.

"Ohh what now." You heard Dale complain under his breath as he got up.

"Heads up." Daryl warned as he threw his crossbow on top of the van while he was yet climbing the ladder.

He didn't expect to see you there. His eyes flickered across your face for a moment or so as he looked around subtly, obviously looking for Glenn with whom you were replaced to assist Dale.

"The hell?" He inquired deadly with half-lidded eyes as he straddled on the chair infront of you.

"Just don't even talk if you aren't good with words." You huffed, not even seeing him fit to make eye contact with.

He remained silent as he rubbed his eyes. He hadn't been getting any sleep.

"Ain't no need fer words with yer bullshit." He scoffed, resting his head on his hands, looking around just like you.

"All this time spent together and you haven't figured out what kind of a person I could be. Not even the slighest, huh?" You sighed, not rushing, taking your time with each word.

Your heart was sinking down your torso, it felt like. Your eyes were droppy, fingers at the tip of the shotgun, seeking to be occupied by anything. Anything but him.

His eyes were glued on your eyes as you weren't bothering to meet with his gaze.

You pegged him for a complex man at all times, deep down you always knew he wasn't someone easy to come terms with. You were not gonna be seen by him, not in this, not in anything.

But at that exact moment, when two of you took a minute to enjoy the calmness, quietness around you, letting your minds talk to yourselves instead of words, you dared to hope for a change.

He could change after all, you saw it with your own eyes.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

A/N: well this request had been on my asks since the beginning of this year... so i hope you still enjoy this anon!! also dumb me accidentally replied to a different request🥲🥲 so if that anon got the notification, im sorry, feel free to request whatever you want bae!!!

also i think i never wrote for season 2 daryl before huh? i hope this was satisfying, he was some constant-nagging redneck in season 1-2 but we love him

[daryltwdixon]

Picture You

You and Daryl both fantasize about each other--at the same time it turns out.

Inspired by Picture You by Chappell Roan

Content warnings: smut !!!!

I had to run and splash cold water over my face after this one

black font: you blue font: Daryl purple font: when you're actually together

There had been a lot of…touching going on lately. That’s as plain as you could explain it. Anytime you were near Daryl, he’d find a way to put his hand on the small of your back if he was passing behind you. He would manage to sit by you a lot, brushing the side of his arm against yours. On runs lately, he stayed closer to you, touching your arm to get your attention. Protecting you even when against the smallest threats. You noticed him…watching you too. If Daryl were anywhere near you, his eyes were always latched onto you; studying, assessing… admiring? You weren’t sure if you’d go that far. But god, did you love it.

He couldn’t stop himself from just…being around you. You had some sort of magnetic field specifically calculated to his center of gravity–his true north. He couldn’t help the times he’d brush by you, his hand on you or if he was lucky enough to be close, smell the lingering scent of your shampoo. Even if you hadn’t showered in days, which sometimes was the case, your scent drew him into you. He couldn’t stop watching you either. Everytime he caught himself staring and you’d meet his gaze, he would kick himself for probably being such a creep. You were hypnotizing to him. 

So, he finds himself in the bathroom alone, thinking of you at dinner that day. Sucking your fingers clean after your meal, licking your lips when you looked up at him. He’s unsure if he was imagining the hunger in your eyes–even after a full meal. 

He’d been aching in his trousers the entire time it took him to excuse himself from the group and make his way down the cell blocks into the bathroom, shutting the door tightly behind him. In what must’ve been a guard’s bathroom–it was a single washroom with a counter for the sink and white tile all along the room, from floor to ceiling. When he finally was confident he was in the bathroom alone with the door locked, he unzips his pants and pulls out his already throbbing member. 

His hand is wrapped around the base of himself, teasing and gentle like he pictures you holding it. He closes his eyes, imagining you on the sink in front of him now, sitting on the edge of the cold counter, your legs around his waist. Behind his eyes, he is wrapping his hands around your thighs as he leans into you, his mouth on yours, tongue plunging into your warm, wanton mouth. He can almost smell you, imagining the scent of cheap green apple shampoo you found on your last run. His tongue dances with yours, letting himself take control of the embrace, his mouth claiming you. His hand fists his cock slowly up and down, but tightening his grip as he pictures you reaching down to palm him through his pants. In his mind’s eye he kisses along your jaw, down to where your neck meets your shoulder, eliciting a small moan from you. He pulls back from you, lifting your shirt over your head gently, but with haste. When he looks back at you, your eyes are half lidded with desire, lips wet and swollen. God, you’re so fucking pretty like this. So needy for him. His lips reattach to the skin of your neck, your hand coming up behind his to hold him close. Your fingers reach and scratch gently at the nape of his neck. His lips journey down your body, tongue gliding around your nipples before he pulls one into his mouth between his teeth. Your heavy breathing and moans bring a smile to his face as he looks back up in your eyes. 

He crouches down, his hands coming behind your knees and down your calves, bringing your bottoms and panties down with them. After discarding your clothes, he begins kissing your legs from your ankles, nipping when he gets to the softness of the inside of his thighs. He imagines your hand coming down and intertwining in his long hair. He lifts his eyes up to yours as he slowly makes his way to your center, your legs trembling in anticipation. His mouth meets your dripping—

Daryl’s hand comes up against the mirror roughly, losing control of himself. His eyes flash open as he stumbles and grips the wall beside the sink, steadying himself. He has to release his hand from himself to keep from finishing right then and there. He’s not done with you yet, even if it’s just in his mind. 

You’re settling into your cot a little while after dinner. Daryl had been watching you again today. So, you decided to play his little game back at him. At dinner you saw him watching you with a predator’s gaze. He was fixed on you through the whole meal, so god forbid you wanted to be a little tease. You made sure to lick your fingers clean slowly, licking your lips looking at him afterwards. It took you aback when you saw his eyes darken even more, but you just returned the look with one just as hungry. Eventually he excused himself a little while later, but the look in his eyes was on your mind the rest of your time you stayed at the table. 

Back in your bed, you have your hands traveling down your chest, over the thin fabric between your fingers and sensitive nipples. You let your eyes flutter closed, imagining Daryl’s hands traveling where your’s are. You slowly let them drift down your stomach, pressing your thumb in gentle circles on your hips. Your legs can’t help but start to fidget as you get more and more impatient for him. In your fantasy, Daryl is leaning over you now, bringing his lips down to the sensitive skin of your hips, nipping at you affectionately, bringing his tongue out in apologies when he bites you harder, making your hips buck. 

“Easy,” he would growl out, his breath fanning over your eager center. He turns his head and bites, licks, nips, sucks on your inner thigh near the juncture of your apex and leg. Your hand reaches down to intertwine into his long hair, your body begging for him. 

Your fingers slowly meet your wetness, starting on the lips and entrance, imagining his tongue there instead. Circling your most sensitive area without giving you what you want most. Your back is arching off the bed, sweat starting to bead on your chest and forehead. You imagine his hands gripping your hips harder now, trying to steady you as he devours you. His tongue finally comes into contact with your clit, flattening his tongue and laving at it like it’s his last meal on earth. He purses his lips, suckling you and grazing his teeth against the nub. Your eyes flash open at the feeling of it, pausing and breathing heavily. You stare at the top bunk above you, collecting yourself before you get too close to the edge. You gently glide your fingers down again, toward your slippery hole.

Daryl has his mouth back on your center in his mind. Fisting his cock again, he leans back against the bathroom wall, mouth slightly agape, eyes closed in ecstasy. In his mind’s eye, he is kissing, sucking, eating, nipping, devouring you. Your fingers tighten in his hair and your legs are resting over his shoulders as he brings his fingers up to tease your entrance, his mouth never leaving you. You gasp and buck when he inserts a long finger into you, immediately finding the corner of your walls that makes your eyes roll. You’re already close, he can feel you tightening around him and he brings another finger into you. Your hips are undulating against his hand, riding his fingers in pure bliss. Your sweet, gushing cunt is convulsing against his fingers, your legs beginning to tense. But before you have a chance to finish, he pulls away from you. 

“Jesus, Daryl” you whisper to yourself, your hips bucking at your own fingers inside of you. You’re grinding against your own hands, trying to find the friction you so badly need.

“Fuck,” Daryl growls out loud as his hand is moving faster on himself, his cock hot and heavy in his hand. He’s raising himself up in front of you, hands back under your thighs to pull you towards him. His cock slides up and down your soaked entrance, and your hands are gripping his arms, nails pressing into him, eager. So eager for him. Your body begging before you can speak the words, “Daryl,” he imagines you whispering into his neck, finally able to make a coherent word in your blissed out state, “please,”. 

He grabs your hips, pulling you into him fully. He lets his throbbing cock enter you. Your head falls back and his mouth meets your throat, loving the salty taste of your sweat on his tongue now. The symphony of your moans and slapping of skin echoes in his ears making his cock twitch in his hand. 

You’re gyrating against your hand in hopeless abandon, your other hand coming up to graze your nails against your throat, imagining Daryl’s teeth on you while he enters you. He isn’t a quiet lover in your mind—he’s grunting against your skin, his mouth vibrating with the sound coming from him. You don’t mean to you but your quiet whispers of ecstasy are turning into whimpers. And when your fingers finally find that one spot, hitting your clit perfectly against the heel of your palm, you let out a moan. 

“Daryl,”

Your moaning is driving Daryl wild, he’s thrusting into you with sweet abandon, pulling you flush against him like he can’t get you close enough. But suddenly he takes a pause from a disturbance in the hallway outside. He stills and listens intently. There’s a gentle echoing out in the cell block and—did he just hear his own name? No, no, he’s just imagining it from thinking of you.

No wait— yes. Yes, that's his name. Softly being called out to him. He tucks his pulsing, aching member back into his pants in what only can be described as bewilderment. He gets out of the bathroom and softly walks down the cell block, getting closer to the sounds of a desperate whimpering. 

You are careful not to let another loud moan out again, aware people could be sleeping around you. But you truly could not contain the whimpers coming out of your mouth, the heavy breathes that you were gulping as you continued to ride your hand, imagining the archer’s cock deep inside you. You wondered what he’d really feel like, how he’d stretch you out as you’d cling to his gorgeous biceps. Would he be slow and agonizingly tender or would he be so ravenous he wouldn’t be able to be gentle with you? You knew in your core you didn’t want him gentle. At least not the first time he got his hands on you. You’re palming your own chest, imagining his hand grabbing, pulling, kneading your breast. Your legs are trembling from the pressure building in your core now, your skin flushing with heat. You can’t help the desperate whimpers escaping from you now in the moonlit cell block, forgetting the people sleeping around you. His name keeps slipping through your mouth along with a string of incoherent curses. 

“Are you going to cum for me?” You hear him say, but you jolt with electricity when you realize it wasn’t in your head. Your eyes fly open, your body frozen in place. You are fully and completely in the direct view of the archer in the doorway. His eyes are hauntingly dark with desire, and when you get a good look at him, his pants are tight against his lower half. 

“What—what’re you—“ you hoarsely whisper.

He makes his way over to you, pulling your hand up to his face, taking both of your fingers into his mouth to taste you. His tongue glides deliciously around your sensitive finger tips, sucking and grazing his teeth just as you imagined him. 

“Do you want—“ he whispers. 

“Yes, god yes,” you plead. 

He stands and begins to undress, your hands all over him and soaking in the sight of his beautiful body. Your fingers trace the lines of his muscles as he discards the last of the things keeping you from him. He joins you in the bed, leaning over you, caging you in between his arms on either side of your head.

“I wanna hear you say my name again,” he whispers, holding his fingers against your wet center.

“Please, please no teasing. I need to know what you feel like,” you beg of him.

He groans, dipping his head into the crook of your neck. His sweat slicked hair sticking to you as he kisses and bites you tenderly. You reach down and grasp his member in your hand. It’s hot and thick and heavy with need. He growls against your skin, sitting up now and taking your hand off of him. He interlaces your fingers and puts them back by your head, making you helpless. His other hand is on his cock, leading himself up to your entrance. He is sliding the head along your drenched center and your hips buck with need. 

“I’ve been thinking about you, just like this. Under me, on top of me, all of you. Been thinkin’ about it a long time,” his voice is hoarse, almost a whisper.

“Daryl,” you whisper. Your other hand is grabbing for him on his stomach, chest, shoulders. Touching anything you can reach, “please”

He plunges into you in sweet euphoria, and your moan escapes you before he has time to cover your mouth with his large hand. He leans on top of you now, his weight pressed into you as he thrusts with desperation into you. God, you feel just as good as he expected. Better even. Tight, warm, delicious walls constricting around him. 

He doesn’t relent, bringing his hand down between you finally to press his thumb on your sensitive nub. Your eyes roll back and you're meeting his hips with every thrust now. He’s beginning to get messy with his rhythm and his sweat drips down onto your chest.

“Fuck,” he grunts.

You nod vigorously, “I’m–mm so c-close-ss-” you breathe, gripping his arms with desperation.

“Cum with me, baby, please–fuck. I want to see you cum with my cock inside you,” he says breathlessly. Your back arches at his words, and the feeling of your cunt convulsing around him topples him over the edge just as you do the same. 

Daryl’s face is tucked into your neck as you both take deep breaths. Your hand is on the back of his neck, gently brushing the nape of his neck. He then pulls himself out of you and drops next to you. But he turns and wraps his arm around your body, pulling you in tight. You turn to face him, looking into his icy blue eyes. When you meet his eyes, both oh you can’t help but let out breathy laughs, utterly awed by the night’s events.

[lab-gr0wn-lambs]

Daryl sign language compilation

[abnormal-vacuum]

the lamb represents beth. the snake represents dawn (the woman who killed her) lavender represents purity, grace and calmness (beth’s flower). the arrow is for daryl and the moonshine is their time spent together. the bullet is what killed her. the gladiolis represent strength of character, devotion and sincerity (daryl’s flower). they also represent death. the matches are for the house they burned down together and the future each of them could have had.

[wittyno]

Me: the girlies (gender neutral) really seem to like this Daryl Dixon from The Walking Dead. I should really check that out.

Me, three episodes in: you guys (gender neutral) really buried the lead on this one.

[lilgoblinbitch]

rick grimes TOWL era is like daryl dixon Saviors era — both are trapped and hate talking to their captors, and both have that same scrutinizing look on their faces !!!

[a-really-mediocre-writer]

angel of small death, chapter two

Daryl x OC Slowburn

Summary for entire work: Piper, a 19 year old girl, alongside her 16 year old sister, Dina, are thrust into a dead-infested wasteland of the world they once knew. Having had a difficult home life before turn, will this new world be a sweet release?

<< T W O >>

Around two hours of work around the camp went by, with Lori suspiciously avoiding eye contact and having hushed conversations with Shane, him glaring at me. I keep staring over in their direction, observing, and trying to figure out what has happened.

“…What’s that about?” Amy asks, making me jump.

“Jesus! You scared me…” I reply, “I’m not too sure… I asked him about his shift last night and he got cagey…”

“Weird…”

“Very…” I keep watching them both until I notice Shane walking away out of sight and Lori approaching us, me and Amy pretending we hadn’t been watching them.

“I’m gonna head out and try get some…mushrooms…” She picks up a red bucket from near Amy and we both nod, mumbling out okays as she walks off alone into the woods. Amy and I look between ourselves and then to the woods, pulling confused looks to each other, continuing to gossip amongst ourselves as we keep sorting through food for everyone tonight.

An hour later, meal prep had been finished and we decide to have a much-needed break, walking over towards the slope leading to the water, but we stop in our tracks when the radio starts echoing a strange man’s voice.

“Hello? Hello? Can anybody hear my voice?” Amy takes off towards the sound and tries to communicate with the stranger as everyone in the camp gathers around, with Shane and Lori coming out of the woods together.

“I tried to warn him, he couldn’t hear me.” Amy stresses to Dale as he approaches.

“Come on son you know best how to work these things.” Dale calls Shane over to the radio. He tries to speak and fails to connect. “He’s gone.”

“There are others…It’s not just us…” Lori says, holding Carl near to her, “I’ve been saying we should put up signs on the roads to warn people away from the city.” Everyone’s attention is on her, as she gulps and stares at Shane. The tension between the pair could be cut with a knife.

“We knew that, right? It’s why we left the CB on? We don’t have the time to go out and help others.”

The two continue to argue until Lori storms off, clearly pissed at Shane, and he follows her towards her tent in the camp. Amy and I share a glance and I raise an eyebrow, both of us giggling. We both end up going to the water, putting our feet in and chatting for a while until almost two hours have passed and Dina disturbs us to say that everyone is looking for us to start cooking dinner for the camp. Huffing, we both grab our shoes and make our way back with Dina, them both walking ahead of me joking and laughing with each other as I look out onto the water. It is so relaxing. I take a deep breath and close my eyes, soaking up the view, until my brain break is interrupted by the radio going off again at the camp, T-Dog’s voice rattling through the camp.

“Yo, this is T-Dog- Anybody out there hear me?” I rush up to the camp and see the worried looks on everyone’s faces while Dale asks him to repeat himself.

“W- Tra-ed- Depart- -ore” He tries to get through us as the radio breaks up.

“Trapped?” I repeat, looking around for reassurance from the camp that they heard what I did, locking eyes with Lori, who responds that she heard him say they were in the department store.

“I heard it too” multiple people around the camp agree and chat amongst themselves, everyone looking to Shane for an answer.

“We need to send help-“ Amy pleads to the officer, who shakes his head at her, “She volunteered to go- to help the rest of us!” She continues to try to reason with him but he isn’t listening.

“So she knew the risks, right? See if she’s trapped, she’s gone.” He coldly says staring into her eyes with a frustrated look.

“She is my sister, you son of a bitch.” She runs off upset, Lori shouting after her and following her to try and comfort her while everyone else scatters. You glare at Shane. He is supposed to be our leader, yet he wants to leave half of our group stranded in the middle of the city? He is so willing to let go of people it just doesn’t make sense- he puts himself and his family first when he should be protecting ALL of us.

“What? Got sumn you wanna say?” He asks me, breaking me out of my trance. I pull an irritated face at him, “Yeah actually, I do.” He scoffs at me and walks off, but I follow him, “Who gave you the right to lead us? You are supposed to be keeping everyone safe, but you don’t care that half of our manpower are stranded and in danger!” I rant at him and he suddenly stops in the middle of the tents, turning around to face me and clearly frustrated with me.

“Who else would you have lead us? Huh? You? You ain’t got the first clue on how to lead, so you best stop putting your nose where it ain’t belong.”

“You threatening me again, Walsh?” You stand your ground this time, earning another scoff from him. We both stare each other down until he gets sick of it and walks away, muttering that he has real work to do.

Not too long after the argument, a siren bounces across the mountains towards the camp. Dale looks out towards it, saying it was a stolen car, followed by a bright red car with race stripes speeding round the corner and parking up at the entrance of the camp. Everyone is shouting asking questions as Glenn gets out the car holding his hands up.

“Pop the damn- POP THE DAMNED HOOD!” Shane repeats, getting louder every time he orders.

“Where is she? Why isn’t she with you?” The worry is coloured over Amy’s face as the siren stops and Glenn catches his breath.

“She’s fine- Everyone’s fine!” He looks around as if waiting for someone else to come up behind him, “Well…Merle not so much…”

Shane and Dale continue arguing about how it was dangerous to drive the car to the camp, as it could have drawn walkers to us, but Amy and I are just silently appreciating that everyone made it out of the city.

Not too long after this, a large truck parks up behind Glenn’s car and everyone is reunited with their family and friends. Seeing the heartfelt reunions, my sister grabs my hand and we just smile at each other, and I lean my head on hers.

Out of nowhere, a new guy dressed in a sheriff’s uniform steps out from the cars and Lori and Carl run to him screaming “DAD!”. The man, Rick, begins sobbing and holds them both close, making everyone smile.

The reactions of Lori and Shane, however, were ones of guilt and shock, and even some resentment from Shane. He catches me watching him and snaps out of his trance, contorting his face into a fake smile with eyes glaring daggers into the back of Rick’s head and then at me. I look away from him but keep him in my peripheral.

As everyone made their way back into the camp to get back to business as usual, I get grabbed by my arm and roughly dragged behind the RV out of the view of everyone else and slammed against the vehicle with a hand over my mouth by none other than Shane Walsh. Heavy breathing from shock and anger, he keeps the hand over my mouth for a while longer pulling a serious face and lifting a finger to his mouth to tell me to stay quiet. Glaring at him I nod; he slowly removes the hand from my mouth and glares right back at me.

“You’re gonna listen to me an’ listen good,” He traps me in place with his arm leaning against the RV next to my head, “Whatever you have against me, Ima need ya to keep that mouth of yours shut. If you don’t, people will believe me when I tell them you got bit or tried to kill me. I know how to get rid of you without people finding out.” My eyes go wide and confused. What the fuck is he talking about? Were me and Amy right about him and Lori? Does he really think I would spoil her husband and child’s family reunion based on a hunch…? This is worse than I thought…

“You understand, darlin’?”

“What’s in it for me? Your word you won’t kill me?” Squinting at him I cock my head while he continues glaring a hole into my skull. We keep staring at each other intensely until we both jump at the sound of Dale asking what’s going on and saying that he needs to talk to me. Without missing a beat, Shane is now forehead to forehead with me, “I meant what I said, girl.” He whispers into my face as he caresses my cheek. “All yers, Dale.” He shouts to him and walks away without looking back at us.

I look up at the elderly man and ask what’s up, embarrassed, only to be asked if I have any tissue paper or wrapping paper, explaining that it’s Amy’s birthday in a few days and that Andrea has a gift to give her. “I’ll have a look round mine and Dina’s stuff for you.” I say with a fake smile and leave. What am I gonna do about this? If Shane is that worried about me spilling his secret, then surely he will try to get rid of me regardless of if I keep it or not…

That night we all are listening to Rick’s crazy story of survival before the subject of Merle Dixon comes back up. I feel some guilt towards him, I mean I told him that he should get lost out there…I put that out there, people heard it, now I feel awful- yes he deserved to not come back to the camp, but not chained and stuck to the roof of a building in the middle of the city full of the dead.

“…That’s on all of us.” T-Dog finishes telling everyone about his guilt as well and walks away from the fire after a long day.

“I’m gonna turn in.” I say quietly to Dina to which she nods, and I say goodnight getting up and walking away, falling asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.

What a long day.

I awaken by the sun shining through the thin tent material and hitting my face. Dina is still sound asleep, so I quietly get dressed and slip out to start my chores for the day. Glancing around, I see that there are only a few other people awake and up. I go down to the water in the quarry and seeing that it is void of other people, I get out of my socks and shoes and dip my feet in the water, sitting just out of it to wake myself up and reading a novel that Glenn got me from his run into the city.

Walking up after time to myself I see that everyone is up and around the camp, and see that Glenn is desperately pleading his case and trying to stop Dale and Jim from stripping his new car, only to fail miserably, earning a pitiful pat on the back from me as he complains about it.

“You never know, you might find a better one next time.”

“It’s the coolest car I’ve ever driven…” he mutters to himself as they start to take it apart, “Look at them…vultures…Yeah, go on, strip it clean!” suddenly Rick appears behind us both. “Maybe we will get to steal another one someday.”

I leave them both to it and go about helping Amy, Andrea and Lori with putting wet clothes out to dry and folding others. Lori and Rick end up getting into a conversation about Merle and he says that he wants to go back and save him, only to get cut off by the children of the camp screaming for their mothers. Immediately everyone drops everything and sprints towards the wound into the woods, Lori and Jaqui holding them close as the rest of us run towards where they were coming from. There was a walker feasting on a deer with arrows in its body. Standing back from the action with Amy and  Andrea, we watch as Dale beheads the walker.

Rustling from the bushes startles everyone.

“Son of a bitch- That’s mah deer!”

“Easy son…”

“Whaddaya know abo’ it old man? Take that stupid hat and go back to On Golden Pond!” Everyone is silent as none other than Daryl Dixon rants on, kicking whatever undead life was left in the walker out of it and shooting the reincarnated head with an arrow.

“Gotta be the brain, ain’t yall know nothin?” He collects his arrows and glances up at us, glaring in disbelief at everyone’s stupidity, until locking eyes with me for a second but then immediately putting his head back down.

“Yo Merle! Get yo ugly ass out here! Got us some squirrel” Everyone in the camp tenses, waiting for the inevitable argument to ensue. Which it does. Between himself and Rick Grimes.

“Lemme process this- You sayin’ ya handcuffed mah brother to a roof- an’ you left him there?!”

“Yeah.”

Then, Daryl lunges at the officer with a knife, getting taken down and held in a chokehold by Shane. I watch in disbelief as he continues holding the distressed man on the ground, shaking my head and covering my mouth. Daryl looks around at everyone watching the violence and his eyes seem to avoid me, face flushing and closing his eyes.

Once everyone has calmed down, he lets him go and a small group of men build a rescue team for Merle and a mystery bag of guns and a radio. Watching him sharpening his knife, my mind winds back to the squirrel left outside of my tent, and I want to ask him about it but it doesn’t feel like the right time, so I sit alone with my own thoughts, hearing everyone argue and volunteer for the rescue team.

I wonder if everyone would send out a search party for me life this when Shane gets rid of me.

---

A/N its been a few days since an update, so this chapter is extra long- not too much daryl content yet but i promise there will be soon guys

taglist:

@azanoni

[bambidixon]

me defending season 9 Daryl (it's hard being an alpha 😭)

[weclassybouquetfun]

They're so back. Messy love wins.

AMC Networks has signed an Interim Agreement with SAG-AFTRA to resume production on a select few shows which includes INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE and THE WALKING DEAD spin-offs DARYL DIXON

and THE WALKING DEAD: THE ONES WHO LIVE starring TWD alums Andrew Lincoln and Danai Gurira.

What signing to the Interim Agreement means is that these productions have agreed to the terms that SAG-AFTRA is seeking in negotiations. When SAG-AFTRA and the AMPTP agree to a new contract (whenever that may be), if the terms of the new agreement are more favourable than what is in the interim agreement, that finalized agreement with the AMPTP will supersede the interim agreement and the talent will get whatever that contract reflects.

I'm of two minds on Interim Agreements. On one hand, it gets people back to work so that they can have income and that's great. On the other, these agreements give way to content which will eventually end up an AMPTP repped platform so they are passing on the opportunity to starve the studios of content which could show the studios that they cannot survive without the contributions of writers and actors. If streamers and networks saw their ratings and/or subscriber base go into freefall due to lack of content, that would hopefully make them realize how they need to do right by the affected.

And SAG-AFTRA realized that this is a side-effect, so they revamped their restrictions and now they won't grant Interim Agreeemnts to WGA projects so as to not stymy their strike.

So...glad these shows have made a way back, but I am hoping that a resolution is near so that these Interim Agreements won't create a further schism amongst the membership.

[springcatalyst]

daryl is so asexual that even people who dont know what asexuality is KNOW hes asexual

[artemis-b-writes]

A/N: Hey yallll sorry for not posting for like a month. i wish I had a super cool, funny excuse for why I was gone but I'm just so busy with work and was too tired to write in the evenings. BUT ANYWAYS at least this chapter is a longer one, I hope Yall enjoy!!!

*Radio Static* Is anyone there? If you can hear me please...anyone, say something...*Radio Cuts Out*

Chapter Four- Beware 

Late August/Early September, 2010- 

His eyes shot open. He was drenched in sweat laying alone in a hospital bed. Why the hell was he in a hospital bed? Oh, right. He’d been in a coma from a GSW in the line of duty. Rick looked over to his left to see a vase full of dead flowers with cards littered around it. He looked to his right and saw…blood? It was splattered on the window of the glass. He removed his IV and groaned as he tried, and failed to stand up off the bed. (Who knew you would have no muscle tone after being in a coma?) 

The hospital sounded..quiet, deserted even. 

Where on earth was everyone? Was he alone? Why was a gurney blocking his room door? He made note of his surroundings, blood splatters covered the walls. All he could do was stand frozen in fear.

Where was his family? Were his wife and children safe?

He darted back into his room to look at the cards that littered his bedside table.

 He gingerly picked one up and opened it:

“Hi daddy, It’s August 26th and the doctor says you should be waking up soon. Please wake up soon, it's not the same without you. Mom and I have been fighting more…I try to get along with her but it’s so hard without you here. Carl is doing good though and misses you everyday. Wake up soon please. Love, Victoria.”

Rick searched for more letters but that was the last one his daughter had written him. He had to find his family. Rick ventured back out into the hospital. He was horrified at how rundown King County General looked. He was used to seeing blood occasionally in his job, but not to this scale.

The blood ricocheted across the walls and splattered all along the ceiling. 

Rick walked through the halls, following the faintest sound, the only sound.

Groaning? And the sound of someone trying to break a door down? 

Maybe someone was here to help him. Rick stumbled as he tried to quicken his pace, praying someone was here to tell him what was going wrong. 

Instead he saw a woman in teal scrubs locked in a hallway. As Rick approached the door she lifted her head.

Her eyes were glazed over and blood dripped out of her mouth. The sight would’ve made Rick gag if he wasn’t frozen in fear. The woman was groaning, like she was trying to speak to him. 

“H….hun…gry” She gurgled. 

Wait. Rick had to be imagining things…she looked dead, she couldn’t possibly be speaking. Could she?

“Are you alright? Can you tell me what happened?” Rick’s voice shook. He tried to swallow down his fear. The woman rushed up to the glass and began to bang on the window. 

Her screams were animalistic. She was animalistic. 

He slowly backed away and started to head for an exit that he knew wasn’t far. He again followed the faint sound of banging that he prayed was more welcoming than the sight he’d just discovered. 

The lights flickered lazily. But it still caused shivers to erupt up and down his spine. 

Shivers turned into nervous shakes despite how hot he was. 

Do not open- dead inside

Dead. Inside.

The only thing holding back the apparent dead were the chains that were wrapped through the handles ten, twenty fold. Rick’s eyes were so wide they looked as if they may pop out of his head. This all had to be a horrible nightmare right?? Right??

Rick turned back the way he came and stumbled, trying to quicken his pace so he could get the hell out of dodge. When he found the side exit to the hospital, he had to use quite a bit to strength to shove the door open.

The sun gave Rick a strong awakened welcome, he recoiled at its presence: the heat nipped at his skin and his arm immediately raised to shade his face. When he adjusted to the hard rays coming down, he noticed the bodies. 

Rows upon rows of white body bags. Had the military come? This was certainly not something the local police department would have the resources to handle. 

He walked amongst the bodies that littered the hospital parking lot. Searching for any faces he knew. He let out a sigh of relief when he didn’t see his family.

That sigh of relief was caught in his throat at the sight of a crashed helicopter and a slew of more bodies littered before him. Rick decided to cut across the street, he needed to get home.

A bright red bike caught his attention. That's how he’d get home. 

The sound of hissing averted his attention from the bike down to the ground.

He fell backwards at the sight before him; a turned woman who had no lower extremities. Her ribs were exposed on either side, possibly from rubbing against the ground or maybe even from something trying to eat her. Her skin was almost a sickly yellowish green, her eyes glazed over with the same hue of color.

She stretched her arms out and groaned at Rick, her attempts to move were futile and her rotted body was decaying from starvation. 

Rick shook his head, he couldn’t do anything for the woman. He picked himself up and began to bike through the town. To home.

The streets were empty, littered with paper and trash. All Rick could think of was if his family was safe or not. Surely they were safe, Lori wasn’t dumb and Victoria would do whatever it took to protect them. 

Rick rode up to the front door of his house wide open. He tripped up the stairs and stopped right at the entrance. Terror shook his entire being.

“Lori?” He called out as he entered the house, an unsettling breeze made its way through the still house. In all the years he’d had his family, his house was never still. 

“Carl??” Rick ran into the house, looking through the bedrooms to see if his son could be found at all. “CARL?!” Rick ran into the living room and saw a broken picture frame of his family. Rick and Lori were sat at the top and a 12 year old Victoria could be seen holding her little brother, their smiles were both so full of life.

Everything he was feeling began to bubble over as Rick felt himself hit the ground. Sobs wracked through his entire body, but only for a moment. 

He could hear someone outside.

“Victoria?! Baby?!” Rick called out as he stumbled back outside, his grief filled mind must have been playing tricks on him. But there was a man dressed in black stumbling through the street.

Rick felt like he was trapped in a bad dream, waiting to wake up in the hospital and hold his family again. But something deep in the dark of his mind told him that he would never wake up, that this wasn’t a dream. His family wasn’t coming home.

For the first time in his life; Rick Grimes was alone. 

Rick watched as a man walked up to the carcass walking the street and shot him in the back of the head, he went limp and hit the ground. He was in shock and not paying attention to the danger approaching from behind. He was definitely going to have a headache later. 

*snap* Rick turned to see what was behind him. Praying it was someone he knew. Maybe it was Carl. He was wrong. The shovel came in contact with his face with quite a force, knocking him to the ground. His vision was blurred as he fought back the feeling of his brain being tossed around in his skull. He looked up to see the blurred silhouette of a small boy.

“DADDY! I GOT HIM! I GOT THE SUMBITCH AND ILL KILL HIM DEAD!”

“Carl?” 

A man came up behind the boy as Rick’s vision began to clear, his voice was muffled but he seemed to be assuring the boy that he did not need to kill Rick. What was going on? Why would this boy want to kill him. And why did the man standing before him also kill the man he saw in the street? Rick had a lot of questions and seemingly no answers.

“Whats that bandage for?!” The man pointed his revolver at Rick’s head. Rick gave the man a confused look, he was talking but Rick had no idea what he was saying. His head was swimming and his vision began to blur again. The ringing in his ears increased rapidly until everything went black.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Morgan thought about shooting the man in that moment but he didn’t look sick, not like the things that roamed the street. He had his son to think about, why was he doubting his decision? 

“Duane, keep an eye out for Walkers, we’re going to bring him back with us.” 

His son opened his mouth ready to argue but Morgan’s decision was firm, something in him just knew they needed to save this stranger. 

Morgan carried the man over his shoulder, thankfully the house they took refuge in wasn't far so they had very little interaction with any walkers. Unfortunately the sound from Morgan’s gun had brought attention and more started to come out from hiding.

Morgan laid the man in the upstairs bed and pulled back his bandages. Instead of a bite, he saw a wound that needed to be cleaned. It was a miracle that the wound hadn’t caused the man to turn. Morgan cleaned his wound, and the blood off of his face. He must have passed out from a mix of the shovel to the face and pure shock. As the stranger slept, Morgan grew more curious about his situation.

After some time Rick finally woke up. (Girl it’s been like an hour. What do you mean finally? Like calm down.)

Rick woke up, laying in a soft bed unsure of his surroundings. He tried to move but it seemed both his arms were tied up high to either side of the bed.  He scanned the room and made eye contact with the boy, Duane, holding a baseball bat. Meaning Rick needed to tread lightly.

Morgan stood at the side of the bed as he put his first aid kit away.

“That wound…it was pretty rank. What was it?” 

Rick seemed puzzled by the question. That was the second time he’d been asked by this man about his wound. Was it a crime to be a wounded man now?

“It was a gunshot.” He answered plainly, it was the truth after all. But Morgan didn’t seem satisfied, he scoffed and made his way to the bed. He was looking for a different answer.

“I ask and you answer alright?”

Rick nodded.

“Did you get bit?” Morgan made sure to emphasize every word. Rick wanted to know why everyone was so concerned over bites. But he had noticed that the people he’d seen in and around the hospital had been bitten…

“Bit? I don’t understand?”

“Bit, chewed, scratched, anything?!”

Rick shook his head in a firm no. He’d been shot, he told this man many times he’d been shot. The only thing he wanted to do was get released from the bed he was tied to so that he could find his family. 

It was also very clear to Rick that this man was not one to be messed with. He was prepared to kill him at any moment. Morgan checked Rick and confirmed he didn’t have a fever. That seemed to give Morgan enough satisfaction to cut Rick from the bed. He then took his son and left the room.

Rick sat for a moment and contemplated his options. He needed to figure out what was going on, then he would go find his family. Rick took a blanket from the bed and headed downstairs. This house was familiar, he’d been here before. 

“This is the Drakes house; Fred and Cindy Drake.” He spoke aloud as he rounded the living room. Morgan and his son were setting places at the dining room table.

“Never knew em”

“I did.” Rick paused…where were Fred and Cindy now? “This is their house.” He finished.

“It was empty when we got here.” Morgan huffed.

“Why did you shoot that man?” Rick asked, sitting down at the table. Morgan gave him a puzzled look.

“That wasn’t a man” Duane piped up. 

And that’s how Rick Grimes found out that the world he knew had absolutely shattered as he slept. That’s why everyone was gone, and the people who were left weren’t actually people….Walkers, Morgan called them. Some kind of virus was spreading through any kind of break in the skin, but mostly through bites. The virus caused people to have aggressive, cannibalistic tendencies. They were like animals. Noise and bright lights drew them closer and they seemed to be more active at night.

“Stay the night and then you can head out in the morning. I would head to Atlanta, there’s refugee camps there.” 

“Thank you,” Rick nodded. “I’ll look for my family in Atlanta.”

Meanwhile in Atlanta:

“GLEN I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DON'T PUMP THOSE SKINNY LEGS HARDER I'M NOT SAVING YOUR ASS!” 

“I’M TRYING!”

Victoria and Glen bolted through the back alleys of Atlanta. With a herd not far behind them. Glen got the bright idea to do a test run before taking a group, and somehow Victoria ended up going with him.

She knew exactly how she ended up here, she was trying to get away from Shane and her mother. But that's neither here nor there. 

The only reason the two knew where to go was because Glen was familiar with the area. Apparently being a pizza delivery boy was a hot commodity in the big city.

They ran through the streets hoping to find a breaking point. Victoria gripped her hunting knife tightly, pressing little crescents into her palm from her nails. They still needed a few supplies to get them through the night. 

“Glen, that convenience store looks good, no?” 

Glen just hooded furiously, all his energy was going into not dying. 

The two made it into the convenience store, barely escaping the herd. They took shelves from around them and boarded up the door. They finally had a moment to breathe. Victoria would’ve laughed at the whole situation if she wasn’t so concerned on not dying. 

The trip hadn’t been bad, they took a car and drove into Atlanta. Stopping at a pharmacy and a few small buildings which were dead ends. But now? Now they were stuck in a convenience store praying the shelves would hold up. They would find and exit later. 

In the last few weeks Glen and Carl had been her saving graces. Shane did hear Victoria's warnings and hadn’t made any advances with Lori…in the camp anyways. But she could tell they were…doing things. The idea alone made her skin crawl.

“Hey, we should probably look around before we let our guards down completely.” Victoria swallowed hard. Her ankle hadn’t fully healed and she could feel that pain shoot up her entire side. 

Glen nodded. Victoria kept that tight grip as she stalked through the store, in an attempt to keep quiet. Thankfully the store was clear. So she and Glen got to work. Mostly canned goods, waters, any packaged non-perishables.

“Oh fuck yes I found a Charleston chew!” Victoria held the candy bar up high like she’d just struck gold. 

“Ew those are nasty.” Glen shook his head. Victoria whipped around to face him, she was slack jawed.

“Bitch who raised you?!” She gawked.

“People with good taste. Those don’t even taste like anything.” He laughed. 

Victoria made a mental note to never let Glen pick road trip snacks, he had no idea what he was talking about. Charleston Chews were a childhood staple and she would not let her friend slander them.

“Well, do you want to talk about what’s been bothering you?” Glen piped up as they sat on the floor and counted their supplies.

“Hard no.” She shot back. He nodded, respecting the determined tone in her voice. She wasn’t sure if it was respect or fear but she’d hoped it was just her friend not wanting to die by her hand. 

Victoria looked down at the little pile she and Glen had collected. Canned veggies, sausages, beans AND beanie weenies. They had the goods for now. The run tomorrow would be a lot more stuff and Glen would have to take a bigger group. The pain in Victoria's leg lingered in the bag of her mind, demanding rest.

“Well we got out shit, let’s go.” Victoria hopped up and held out a hand to help Glen up. 

“Wait…we blocked the only exit. How do we get out now?”

Victoria pressed her ear near the back door, there was definitely still a herd waiting to get their meal. Victoria had no intention of being on the lunch menu. She had always been quick on her feet, Glen was too, so she had no worries they wouldn’t make it out.

“Well…” Victoria scanned the store looking for any other exit that wasn’t the boarded up front door. Bingo. “we’re going to crawl through that skylight above the deli. At least from the roof we can get a better look.”

Victoria hopped up onto the deli counter and tried to see if the skylight would open. But she wasn’t quite tall enough to reach. Why the hell are these ceilings so high?

“Glen, get up here and let me stand on your shoulders.”

“What?!”

“You heard me. Up, now.”

Glen scrambled up onto the deli counter, and Victoria proceeded to climb onto his shoulders. Glen made sure his protest were known, but Victoria elected to not hear him. They had shit to do, like get home without dying. 

“Um, Victoria?” 

“What?!” She stood on his shoulders, annoyed at the sudden wobbling beneath her. “I almost got it, just hold still!!”

*crash* Well shit. Victoria craned her neck behind her and made eye contact with a walker that had broken a glass door she hadn’t seen. Her patience, with how sentient these walkers were, was growing thin. She turned back to the glass and tried to use the handle of her knife to break it. Glen urged Victoria to hurry up because the walkers were getting closer.

“H..hungry” The leader of the herd gurgled as blood fell out of his mouth. Glen and Victoria held back their gags. The problem came when they tried to crawl over the counter, grabbing at Glen's legs. But before the walker could take a chunk out of him, Victoria broke the window, hooked her legs around Glen's waist and pulled the two of them up through the skylight. 

“Shit that was way too close.” Victoria huffed, laying out along the roof. Glen stumbled across the roof and vomited over the side. Victoria pushed herself up off the hot concrete and walked over to meet him. They only had two problems; they had no car, and a herd of walkers was probably trying to make their way onto the roof with them. 

At least with the herd in the deli, it left the ground below them relatively clear of danger. And they were fast, they could make it to a vehicle and get the hell out of dodge. Piece of cake….right?

“Over there, that jeep might work?” Glen pointed across the road to a tan Jeep. Victoria pulled her hair back so it was out of her face. 

“Fuck it let’s go.” 

They jogged across the roof to the other side, where they were just ahead of the jeep. Victoria peered over the edge. There were a couple walkers wandering the street but Victoria was confident they could make it the short distance to the jeep. She just prayed it was unlocked and functional.

“Okay I’ll go in front, but stay close and cover me.”

Glen swallowed hard but nodded anyways. Victoria wouldn’t admit to him that she was also scared shitless but they just needed to get it over with. She threw a leg over the side and slid down the ladder, Glen came down behind her and they bolted to the Jeep. Great. Of course it has to be locked. 

Even better, here come Walkers. 

Victoria looked around to see if there was anything she could use to pick the lock. Glen broke the Antenna off and tossed it to her. 

“Come on Tori, hurry up please.” 

She fiddled with the lock and got it open. They both jumped in the car and slammed the doors right as the herd tried to swarm them. No Keys. Wonderful, she’d just have to improvise. Victoria popped open the compartment underneath the steering wheel and started to get to work.

“Do I even know how you know how to Hotwire a car?”

“My dad used to be a cop, I picked up a thing or two. Don’t worry about it.”

She fiddled with the wire and shoved the antenna into the ignition. The Jeep roared to life. Victoria threw it into reverse and backed over the walkers that tried to break the windows around the Jeep. 

They peeled out of Atlanta and Victoria sped all the way back to camp. They sat in silence for most of the drive. As far as Victoria was concerned they didn’t need to go back to the city they could find a town to raid. 

They pulled into the camp, Carl barreled into her. 

“Thank goodness you’re back.” 

She laughed and hugged him tight. He walked back to the jeep with her and grabbed one of the duffle bags full of supplies. Everyone came to greet them, glad that the two of them made it home. Victoria couldn’t help but notice that her mom and Shane were missing…

After getting the supplies unloaded and checking in with Dale, Victoria decided to head down to the lake to try and wash the sweat off. 

“What the FUCK?!” Victoria walked up on her mom and Shane in quite a compromising position. Lori yelped and pushed Shane off of her. “I can’t BELIEVE YOU!” Victoria screamed in horror. Shane tried to shush her but she only raised her voice higher.

“Baby….baby please, please be quiet.” Lori begged. She tried to get close to Victoria but she backed away.

“You have a husband, may I remind you.” Victoria scoffed. “I can’t believe the two of you I’m fucking DISGUSTED.” 

“You can’t tell anyone.” Shane demanded. Victoria laughed dryly at his demands. She paced back and forth. “Carl doesn’t know. You cannot say anything.” 

Victoria stopped in her tracks. And looked over to him, she wanted nothing more than to wrap her hand around his throat and squeeze until he stopped moving. 

“I’m only doing this for Carl. You’re going to hate yourself when dad gets home Lori, just as much as I hate you right now.” She spat. She stomped back up the hill, Daryl ran down to see if she was okay, and she’d assured him she just scared herself in the woods but everything was fine. She was just still jumpy from being in the city. 

She spent the rest of the day avoiding them unless absolutely necessary. She stuck close to Carl, knowing if she was with him Shane would leave him alone. Her whole body was hot and she was shaking with anger. She made a promise to Shane and she intended to act upon it, but for now she just needed to focus on Carl and finding her dad. 

Taglist - @ebodebo @starsofang

[daryltwdixon]

I’m literally frothing at the mouth I can’t think of anything else but Daryl Dixon anymore

[lab-gr0wn-lambs]

Ok do the thousands of Bethyl shippers realize it means they're headcanoning Daryl as a pedophile or

[vvenushalo]

finally started amc interview w a vampire and honestly im obsessed w the intro melody. the way it sounds like a typical scale warm up but holds on a note n my brain wants to instinctively finish that scale n then it sours into this desperate sinister tone…. my fave ever