#merle dixon reader insert

[havin-fun-imagining-twd]

It felt so real.

What - Yearning. Daryl misses you and your family so badly that it seems his imagination is dreaming you up to keep him from going crazy

When - big time jump to when Daryl finds himself in France (spinoff season 1, episode 2)

Where - the school in France

Pronouns - she/her (howdy, wife reader!)

TWs - language, reference to child loss, self-loathing, sappiness (it's fanfiction, y'all XD ) and Daryl gets a little...'excited' (mild instance of sexual arousal between a married couple)

Perspective - Daryl 3rd person POV

References - some are yet unpublished because this is a significant time skip, which means a few little surprises. Others can be found throughout the series!

Series? - the Slowpoke Series! It's a fun, slow time that sticks to canon to help maintain immersion (as much as you can with adding an oc lol) ;)

Can I read this chapter if I haven't started any part of the Slowpoke Series yet? - definitely

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“It's so good to hold you again, sugar.”

Those words, that voice, made him relax into the bed. She was there again! He’d last imagined her when he was being tended to by those nuns, so it was only, what, a handful of days ago?

Wasn’t enough for him, he missed her so much.

“Dare, I want them all. Full stop, every last one.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I knew you’d say that.”

“As if you aren’t wantin’ to take at least a handful. All those kids with just an old woman to care for them…well, now she’s dead, but…” She sighed and held him tighter. “Lou reminds me of Enid. Don’t you think they look similar? M’sorry her name had to be Lou. A lot of things over here are making you homesick, ain’t they? And that poor boy in Maine, named TJ, too.”

He pulled her closer, doing his best to not wake himself up so Y/N would stay with him. He wished that kid, with same name as his oldest, has just gone back to his girlfriend like he'd told him to.

“Our own Louise lights a candle with me for you every day. Those nuns would be proud.”

He swore to himself that whenever these dreams happen, there’s got to be some way it isn’t just all in his head. It was way too real.

It felt so, so real.

But that Louise was lighting candles for him, he knew because Carol told him when she spoke to him briefly over the radio in Maine...

“Did Carol also mention that Lydia’s been drawing you? Or did I write part that in the letter?”

“The letter. Carol and I didn't have much time to say anything.” Y/N wrote him a long, long letter. One part mentioned how both Lydia and Glenn took to getting nightmares again after he left. At Maggie’s suggestion, Lydia had been drawing his picture. Apparently it helps her feel safer.

RJ had been 'retreating more than usual,' also. Adam was acting out, too, so she wrote. If Daryl was figuring it right, the boys losing another father figure probably hadn’t helped.

“Dare, he’s three. Three-year-olds don’t only act out with foster parents, Adam would be doin’ the same with Alden. And RJ is without Michonne right now. That's the greater culprit.”

His wife also wrote how Coco just started calling her ‘mama,’ and correcting her to say ‘auntie’ wasn’t working yet. She chalked it up to her being a motherly figure and the baby assuming all caring ladies were ‘mama.’ He wondered if Gabe knew yet. Ain’t like Y/N hasn’t been a mama to that little girl since Rosita died. Actually, nah, Gabe obviously knew; Y/N would’ve (legit) run to him immediately and told him what was up.

The faces of all their kids ran through his mind over and over, Lydia and Judith and RJ included. Then his wife’s face. Carl. Adam. Hershel. Gracie. Coco. Carol. Ezekiel. Maggie. Rosita. Aaron. Jesus. Jerry. Rick. Merle. T-Dog.

“Oo, I want to be here when T-Dog visits. Has he ever visited?” Y/N chirped.

He wished. “Once. I just think about him a lot.”

“Bummer. He must have been so thrilled when we actually did name our first after him, without you even tellin’ me nothing about how he’d teased you on it! Say, what about Uncle Jesse? Does he visit? He must’ve been happy TJ’s middle name is for him!”

He shook his head. You even visited me before I was smart enough to fall for you. When I fell down the ridge. It was you and Merle.

A sneezing from one of the kids in another part of the building resounded four times. It woke him briefly.

He closed his eyes, focused…

It was okay, Y/N was there. Daryl breathed a sigh of relief.

“I am a mite surprised you didn’t take the floor anyway,” Y/N admitted, peeking over his side to look at where the nun Isabelle was laying down next to him. “Or share with Laurent so the two sisters could share.”

“Neither of them trust me enough for me to share a room with the boy. And she sounded like she didn’t want me on the floor. Must be that I’m gettin’ too old." All I feel these days is tired and sore. "Hell, I don’t think I could get up if I slept on the floor.”

Angel, I ain’t the same without you, I’m a fucking mess. Look at the shit show that I’ve made of things.

His wife whispered, “Hey. You know I can hear that, I’m from your imagination.”

“Y/N, I miss you so fucking much.” Baby, I’m so goddamned far from you all and I don’t know how I’m gonna get out this time.

“No cusses in front of the kids, Daryl,” She cupped her belly, the one he was imagining she might have again. Carol, when she spoke to him, used what little time there was to mention how Y/N was avoiding taking a test because she missed him too much. Y/N didn’t say nothing about it in her letter she'd packed in there during one of his home visits.

How’s that for a reason to hate yourself?

“You should,” shot back another familiar voice. “Leaving your own kin, leaving your woman. Ain’t you learned nothing, boy? Didn’t think you was that much of a deadbeat but here’s proof the apple didn’t fall far from the tree."

Merle.

Damn, it’d been ages!

"Yup. Nanu nanu," his brother mocked, waving his metal stump and glaring. "Here you are, in the white flag capital of the world, surrounded by Euro kooks instead of your own blood.”

“Oh, Daryl, don’t imagine him as cruel again!" Y/N cooed. "Let us both love you if you’re gonna go about having us here.”

Daryl breathed slowly so he wouldn’t wake up. When he felt level enough, he answered, “I don’t have much control over what y’all say.”

“I thought you had some control over it.” Y/N gently pushed his hair off his face. He loved it when she did that. Delicately, she examined the new scar gracing his forehead.

“I blame that old coot what you let whup you on the head as to why you’re seeing things,” his brother crooned.

His wife nodded. “Another concussion, you poor man. But this isn’t a hallucination, it’s just a dream. It’s that good kind of dream where you’re not fully awake but not fully asleep.” She trailed her hand along his forearm.

“Y/N, you’re too good for this sad sack.”

She fired back faster than Daryl knew his imagination could go. “Merle. You love your brother to death and you’re happy he got hisself a wife and family.” Y/N had pushed herself up to sitting in order to scold him. “Tell me you don’t swell with pride seein’ him be a good father and good husband. The cycle stopped with him, and you’re proud of it.”

Daryl, a hand protectively around his wife’s side, was busy trying to figure out what Merle was even doing, whittling?

Ah, he was eating an peach with the knife attached to his metal stump.

Weird, he thought ghosts didn’t eat.

“Maybe I ain’t a real ghost, retard,” was a blunt comeback. “Maybe I’m just a poor copy you conjured up in that concussed little head of yours.” Merle then turned to Y/N. “As for you, kitten, he left you and your brats! Left you when you was up the duff, left you when you don’t even got all your legs no more! How’s he supposed to protect you when he’s out here?”

“Merle William Dixon! I ain’t ‘kitten’ and those ‘brats’ are your nieces and nephews, dick. Noah’s middle name is even for you, so you best watch your mouth, hear?”

Merle smirked and sliced off another wedge from the peach. “There’s my sister-in-law. I had to make sure your square self at least still had that fire in ya.” He offered her a slice, but she crossed her arms.

The expression on her face was so disappointed it made Daryl’s chest tug.

His brother duly inclined his head in apology and raised his hands in surrender. “You’re right, ma’am. Y’all are doing a good job on them brats. And this sumbitch ain’t nothing like our old man, so there’s something.” Merle chopped another piece of fruit. “And it’s always a pleasure to roll with a fellow amputee, Y/N. Not many can relate to how trippy the phantom limb bullshit can get.”

She tilted her head in agreement, rubbed the spot above her prosthetic calf, and settled back down next to her husband with a big sigh. “I do wish Daryl imagined you in a kinder light, Merle, but, either way, I’m happy he watched Mork & Mindy because it got him thinkin’ about you — and now you’re here for him!” Her hand grazed along her bump. “And, you meant to say to him that I was possibly pregnant.”

“Dunno about that, sister, you’ve always seem to know when you been knocked up.”

“That ain’t incorrect,” she confessed, curling in on herself. “Even if I was, it’s possible we had a loss again, Merle. Whether early or late this time.”

“Another reason he shouldn’t be screwin’ around out here.” Merle next words sliced him as if his heart were the peach in his hands. “I'm angry for your own good, lady. What if you had to handle another kid dying, this time on your own?”

The bad memories crashed down like waves threatening to drown him in grief and guilt. He wanted to pummel his brother in the hopes Merle would best him and make him pay for leaving her.

But Merle wasn't actually there. Neither was Y/N. It was pretend. Daryl was just beating himself up in his head, and failing even at that.

Y/N said the words as Daryl thought them: “Why are you twisting the knife?” She swallowed and covered her face with her hands. “Maybe, this mission is w-worth the sacrifice of, of us not havin’ him here right now.”

No. It’s not.

I know you said that before I left to make it hurt less, but it’s not. Listen to your stutter, you know it ain’t.

I should be back there with you, not constantly leaving for weeks at a time. I'm supposed to be home now. I'd told Carol when I reached her on the radio back in Maine that I'd be there in a about a week, which is what she would've told you. This whole thing is horseshit!

“Darlin’, think on happier things or you’ll upset yourself awake or into another nightmare,” Y/N soothed. "You almost woke from anger at Merle just there, which is really just anger at yourself." Her fingers laced into his where his hand rested on her belly. His wish was that his dream would include feeling the baby move. He loved that feeling. Except, he must’ve been waking up because his dream wasn’t letting him feel her hand or her belly very much when he tried. Still, it felt real enough. He’d take what he could get.

“Might could be fun to think back on how beautiful it was making them, if indeed we made another one.” She walked two fingers along his bicep. “Would’ve happened on or around the last night before you left. Or,” she mused, then started to giggle. At that moment, he could even imagine the vibrations of her laughter as if she were really, actually laying beside him. It felt so real! “I wouldn’t be surprised if made them on the day itself, that was soo — oh man, hold up!” She pulled away from him and eyed his crotch in suspicion. “No sex dreams allowed, there’s a bride of Christ in the room! Keep that thing down, deal?”

He almost laughed out loud, and possibly in real life. So long as he didn’t wake up, he didn’t care if he laughed in his sleep. The reactions, the tone, it was all just like his Y/N. And he could hope they had another kid. He’d take as many as came along.

Aw, shit, how far would she even be along, if this one made it? How long had he been away?

“Goddamn, y’all, is this some kinda kink you got?” Merle cut in. “Me and the penguin are still here, you perverts.”

“Oh hush, neither of us are actually here. Him and me aren’t doing nothin’, he just got a little aroused,” Y/N countered. “And to answer your question about another baby, Daryl, I reckon you’ll find out when you come back.” She shrugged. “Unless you reach us on a radio? Eugene is diligent about it, especially now.”

That was another thing she wrote in her letter. Eugene and his radio.

The helplessness crashed back down on him. “I’m tryin’ babe.” He didn’t want to start crying. The nun was next to him and he didn’t know if he’d be able to stop crying once he started.

Merle jeered, “Try harder, Darylina.”

He was right, Daryl needed to. He needed to try harder! What kind of washed out fuck-up was he?

“Sweetheart,” his wife called softly. Her hand caressed his cheek. It felt so, so real. “Margaret — a woman who knows the pain of losing a husband — trusted this to you because you survive. And I trusted you to go, because you’ve got the brains, the balls, and the grit. You don’t die or get bit, Daryl, no. You always come home.”

Bullshit. Not this time.

“Not bullshit. Yes, this time.” She looked to the window. “Merle, back me up.”

“Based on your track record, she’s right, little brother.”

“You may not believe you can or will,” she lifted herself up on her hands and leaned forward to kiss him. It had to have been real. It felt so, so real. But he was not about to open his eyes to see if by some miracle it was. “Despite how you feel right now, my vote is you will get that happy ending. It ain’t coincidence that Laurent said so just like our Judith did! How’s that for a reason to hope?”

Shit, he was about to break down. “Y/N, maybe I don’t deserve that. You saw the shit-show what got me here.” And there came the tears. “I left you, that’s all there is to this. I don’t deserve you.”

“Oh, that word.” Y/N wasn’t a fan of the word ‘deserve.’ “On that topic, what an honest prayer you said to bless the food! So many times you used ‘deserve,’ ugh, but,” she paused, “God loves honesty like that. Very, very much.”

She kissed his eyelids where the tears were starting to slip out, kissed the scar that never seemed to fade, then settled back against the side of his chest and curled one leg around him. With her hand, she rubbed comforting circles along his torso. “And He don’t punish or withhold, that’s just our fallen world. His hand is always out for you,” she murmured. “Say, how long do you think you can keep up with imaginin’ my theology?”

“Angel, I’m already at my limit. That’s why part of me thinks you’ve gotta be here somehow, some parts of this feel so real. Smart stuff like this ain’t in my head.”

“TJ and Georgia would call out your self-hate if they could hear you. You’d owe them a lot of quarters. Hm, and euros, seeing as you're here.”

His chest tugged at their names. “How are they?”

TJ, their oldest besides Lydia, had long hair like the little French kid here. Just one other thing that ripped at Daryl’s heartstrings to make him ache so bad for home it shocked him that he wasn’t bleeding out.

“They’re as good as gold and better. Just like their father.” That phrase he knew was from his memory because she’d said it before. “All of us miss you like crazy. Postal level.”

You shouldn’t.

“Daryl.” Her hand gripped his. There’s no way it wasn’t real. It felt so real. “When I was broken after Carl's death, and I claimed the same stuff — that you should leave me and TJ, that you needed someone better, that your life would be better if we weren’t a part of it — how much did it rip you up? ’Cause even if I hadn’t told you this before, you would have to understand how it’s tearing my insides to shreds hearin’ you think the same.”

Calm. He had to stay calm or he’d be alone again.

“I’m right,” he whispered.

“I have to disagree.”

“I —” his voice went up. He switched tactics and spoke to his brother. “Merle, talk some sense into her. I failed. This is it, this is—”

“—You did screw shit up like a royal turd, but your lady would rip my danglers off if I went along with your pretty little pity party.”

Believe it or not, the tough love helped. Felt genuine, as if Merle really was shouting some sense into him. It felt so real.

He caught his wife giving Merle an air high-five. “Thank you, Merle.”

In hindsight, Daryl figured it must’ve be because Merle, in Daryl’s imagination, had to raise his metal arm to return the five. He taunted Y/N, “You’re welcome, peg-leg.”

Dream or not, Daryl was fixing to bark, but his wife playfully kicked her own prosthetic and taunted back, “Love you, gimpy.”

His brother was smug. “Square.”

As if Y/N hadn’t heard that before.“Trailer trash.”

As if Merle hadn’t heard that before. “Goody-two shoes.”

“Two shoes? Ahem,” Y/N drawled as prim and proper as a southern belle. “Did we not just establish how I only require but one shoe these days?”

Merle slapped his thigh and cackled like a hyena and Daryl couldn’t help but do the same. Y/N joked about her missing calf like she got paid for it, pirate jokes to no end.

Daryl hadn’t felt this light in months, not even close to it since leaving home.

…And to think, it was all a lie.

All fake.

They weren’t really there. Not his wife, not his dead brother. It was all in his head.

“Oh, my sweet mangy hick. Enough moping and angst, enjoy the moment! Merle and I really did a fair job on our banter just there. And you never know, Merle could really be here, seein’ as he’s dead.”

“Y/N, I even miss bickering with ya, goddamn,” he breathed.

“It is one of our love languages. That reminds me — you’re doing great with the French, Dare!”

She can’t be serious. Or, rather, he himself can’t be serious. “Babe, I ain’t spoken a word of it. The letters don’t matter half the time. I swear, these people sound drunk.”

Merle snickered, “Hell, even I speak better French than him. Voulez vous coucher av—”

“—Well, I meant like when you used the dictionary to translate that conjugated verb.” Her voice had gone down when she said this and it sounded, well…how it usually sounded when she was turned on. “If I were there, the part where I’d push your suspenders off your shoulders would drive me wild…”

Stay calm or you’ll wake up, Daryl.

And you realllly don’t want to start a sex dream with some other chick in the room. A nun!

“Get a room, horndogs. The word was ‘conjugated,’ not ‘conjugal,’” Merle spat. “This is why you got all them kids.”

His wife made one of her signature huffs, but didn’t say nothing back to Merle. Into Daryl’s ear, she sympathized, “Being horny is so annoyin’.”

Ha. Blushing even in his dreams. Part of him wondered if he was cracking up in his sleep, too, but either way, it felt good. Felt real. It felt so, so real. “I don’t even know what ‘conjugated’ means, Y/N.”

“Yes you do, otherwise I wouldn’t say it. I’m a figment of your imagination, remember?” Aw man, why’d she have to nuzzle him in the crook of his neck? He loved it when she did that. Mmm, hot damn it felt so real… “And you know that you doin’ something like conjugating a verb in another language would be sexy to me.”

“I told y’all jackrabbits to keep your britches on. Now, Daryl: ‘conjugate’ is when you make the verb agree grammatically with the subject. You’ve heard that word before,” Merle explained. Seemed out of character. And the room looked strange, there was—it was another room now?

Daryl’s thoughts turned to when Y/N and Rosita would speak Spanish. Listening as Judith helped TJ and RJ with phonics. Watching Georgia sing to baby Louise that song Siddiq had taught her in, what language was it?

“Hey. Dummy,” Merle scoffed. “You’re driftin’ off, sweet boy. Gotta stay a teensy bit lucid if you want us here.”

So that���s why the room had just looked different. He’d been slipping.

“I still don’t get how this happens, which is why I think you’re actually here,” Daryl said to both of them. “Merle, you’re probably in…somewhere in-between.”

“What, I don’t get to be in heaven yet? Y/N, you hearin’ this uppity sumbitch?”

“He still has trouble believing in such things, Merle, especially lately. I prayed for your soul, so I got hope.”

“Thank you, sister.”

“Anytime.” Y/N looked up at Daryl and smiled. “Then what about me, dude? I ain’t dead, pinky promise. So, how is it that I come to be here?”

Yeah, he’ll be as sappy as he wants with his wife of ten years. “Maybe you’re dreamin’ about me, too.”

Merle’s kissy noises were interrupted by Daryl firmly telling him to get out after which Y/N smooched him harder than she’d had in his imagination since he’d left America. The smell of her, the sounds she made, the way she would lift her head so he could bury his face in her neck, it all felt so real.

It was when she ran her hand lower down his abdomen and almost reached his you-know-what that it all stopped cold. “Sorry! Aw, shoot — Merle! Get back in here, quick, we got carried away! Well, t-technically it was all you, Dare, but — just, please don’t get a stiffy with a nun in the room!”

“Someone should put that on a shirt,” his brother called.

“Ew, no, Merle! Good Moses, maybe I really should ought to be there if you’re startin’ to imagine messed up t-shirt slogans.” She was only teasing. “Ooh, but if I were really there I could meet little Sister Sylvie! So far, I like her.”

“I knew you would.” Daryl grinned. “The way she is with the boy, she reminds me of you.”

If only you were really here, angel.

Wait, no, I don’t want you here because you wouldn’t be safe. I need you safe.

She brought his hand to her lips. “I know what you meant, sugar.”

Unexpectedly, the nun shifted on the bed, nearly jolting him fully awake.

Slow breaths. Keep your eyes shut, do not open them!

He kept them shut tight and pictured where Y/N had been to try and keep her there.

“What am I, chopped pig’s feet?” Merle grunted.

Daryl relaxed. Merle was still there, and he got back the feeling of Y/N beside him.

“You know,” his wife considered. While she was still there, he was having trouble visualizing her. Was he still close to waking up? “That Sister Isabelle is willin’ to risk sharing a room with a strange American says a lot about how much she’ll give to protect the boy and the others here.”

“Still damn weird she didn’t just share a room, the three of ’em.”

“It is. It’s really weird.” Y/N rested her forehead on his chest. He felt the warmth of her breathing against him. If he focused really hard, he could just about imagine the feel her heartbeat, too. “Maybe she’s fixing to be the first line of defense, with all them other kids livin’ here.”

“Still weird,” he grunted. “Hey, where’d my—” He looked around in his imagination at the room. “Where’d my brother go?”

“Maybe he wanted another peach. Or, maybe you're too close to wakin’ up. Be careful, darling.”

He breathed slowly and kept his eyes locked shut. His frustration was growing. It had felt so real, why was it going away?

Calm. Stay calm so she’ll stay.

“It was also unusual,” Y/N thought, “how Sister Izzy—”

“—Sister Izzy?”

He imagined that her mouth would have twisted in embarrassment. “Yes, I’d probably definitely give her that nickname. You sure know how to portray me realistically.” She started again, “It’s unusual how she didn’t accommodate for your maybe-not-wantin’-to-be-seen-in-the-tub-by-a-nun. By anyone, for that matter. Although,” she reconsidered, “they were nurses who had to change your undies and cauterize your wound, weren’t they?” When he pictured her bottom lip beginning to tremble, he held her closer. “Oh, I hate that they all died but for two! What has this world come to? Why would those men kill them?”

That was something.

The dream got easier to maintain. He felt the curve of her waist. The rise and fall of her chest. It felt real again. It felt so, so real.

Relieved, he didn’t know what to say at first other than, “The water was cloudy enough.” When he was getting treated, bathed, doctored, how hard he wished it was Y/N doing it. Another thing that made him ache, watching them nuns give him medical attention when for the past 12 years it’d almost always been his wife.

He breathed out heavily. “Dunno, when she was in there, it wasn’t too uncomfortable.”

“The habit can have that effect on some. The crucifixes and religious artworks hopefully brought some peace, too.”

“Habit?”

“Nun outfit.”

He tried to hold her even tighter. The way it felt more real than before encouraged him, got him nearly falling off his seat with excitement that he got her back!

Except, the excitement turned into panic that he might lose this moment because he was so happy, as fake as it was.

And it sent him over the edge. Just like that, he was awake. Very awake. And alone. No Y/N, no Merle.

He blinked as the room came into focus.

None of it was real. He’d, he'd known that.

And now he was awake. Lying on some flat, shitty, tiny bed, an ocean away, in a country full of people he didn’t understand, that had walkers who burned you when they touched you, and soldiers who shot up a convent full of nuns who patched up strangers and were only trying to keep a little boy safe.

He didn’t even have his ring anymore. All he had was a snippet on a voice recorder that told the world his name and how badly he'd fucked up.

Daryl turned onto his side, the pain from his burned arm screaming at him, but he didn’t give one flying fuck. Y/N wasn’t there anymore because his stupid ass had woken up! He’d earned the pain, he needed it, he deserved it.

Quietly, he thought to hell with it and let himself weep. He was so fucking done with all this bullshit.

He wanted Y/N back. He wanted his kids back. The fuck kind of brainless jackass was he, leaving them for so long, so much? And for what?

To "see what's out there?"

As if he'd find people who had a cure?

To bring Rick and Mich home? If Rick is even alive, if Michonne is alive.

To transport some creepy French boy to a group of weirdos grasping at the hope of some imaginary friend in the sky who damns them if they don’t do all the rules in the world that He’d let go to shit as a punishment or test?

Really, was Daryl that much of a guilt-ridden jerk-off to still say yes to whatever Maggie asks him to do? It’s a hopeless fu—

“Daryl, I love you so much. Please don’t blaspheme.”

“Y/N?” I thought you was gone. No, you were gone, I woke up! “You’re back?” Holy shit, thank you. Thank you! Thank you, Whoever's up there.

That small, shy smile melted all the ice he’d just had in his heart. “Try not to wake all the way again?”

He didn’t waste any more time blubbering like an idiot, he reached for her and held on. It was still a dream, so he had to be careful to not get too excited or do anything too stimulating. And, don’t worry, he wasn’t about to willingly get a hard-on when there was a nun next to him.

He just needed to have Y/N in his arms again so he could make it through the next 5 minutes without going insane!

For 12 years, she’d been there, loving him in one way or another. For 10 years they’d been husband and wife. Without her, without their kids there, in that strange, foreign place, he was losing himself so quick it brought him to his knees with shame.

Her lips pulled away for a moment. “I wouldn’t agree that you’re losing yourself. I watched Shaney lose himself, it looked different. Daryl, I’m serious,” she insisted. “Listen: did you not save that dad and daughter even after they robbed you?”

Big whoop. “You know what those guerrilla shits would’ve done to her." The same thing that got done to you. "And those assholes would prolly have made the old man watch and killed me regardless.”

“Yeah, but you also went back to try and save that gaggle of nuns from those jar-head pieces of shit, that’s got to count for somethin’.” Wait, that was Merle’s voice. He was back, too?

Daryl looked over at the window to see his brother there once more. Merle winked. “My baby brother, the hero. Stay zen if you’re fixing to keep us here, now. Keep hittin’ that sweet spot between dreamland and the real world.”

Y/N beamed at Merle before turning back to Daryl. “And did you not help those children get the medicine, Dare? Heck, now they got access to that whole castle full of supplies and it’s so much more secure. Um, m-minus the moat full of dead ones.”

“I lied to those kids out my ass, Y/N. Lied and didn’t give a damn.”

“And you ensured none of them got hurt, then promptly admitted the lie with what I’d call purity of heart.”

“I cut that boy’s mule loose without a second thought. You see that? He loved that thing.”

“Better than to have failed to back up the cart in time, which would have happened and would have gotten all five of y’all eaten. And it was almost fast enough to escape by the looks of it. One dead mule to the benefit of four living souls is a good outcome.”

“What’d my sister-in-law say earlier?” Merle asked. “Brains, balls, and grit? Not to sound all mushy gushy, but she’s right.”

The memories of falling into that moat of walkers seized him, made him start to panic again. No brains, no balls, he almost died right in there—

“—Baby, shh,” Y/N hushed. Her arms tightly wrapped around him the way she would when his nightmares hit bad. “You survived. No bites. No burns. Not even a broken bone, I don’t know how you managed it again.” Her lips, her chest, her hands pressed against him. It felt so, so real. “But you always seem to.” She kissed him. “You’ve got brains.” Another kiss. “Balls.” A deeper kiss. “And grit. And you’re alive, sweetheart. There’s always hope as long as your heart is still beating.”

“How will I get out of this?”

“You’ll find a way,” she said with confidence. “You simply don’t know what the way is yet.”

“What do I do about the nuns?”

“Help them keep Laurent safe, of course — if you choose to do so.”

I don’t want to.

“You don’t have to,” she assured him.

I want to go home.

“And you will,” she assured him once again.

I don’t want to help them. I don’t want to. I don’t fucking want to!

…God damn it. “But I should.”

“You ain’t obligated,” Y/N responded, but with hesitation that time. “It is up to you.”

Merle was the one to point out, “It’s that conscience of yours, kid. Sometimes you just can’t help but help. I’ve been watchin’ you these past, what is it, 11 years since I got my crusty white ass killed?” He chuckled to himself as he shaved off the final bit of peach before flicking the pit away. “Can’t be too mad at it when it roped you a fine piece of ass to squeeze at night and how many kids because of it?”

“Merle,” Y/N warned.

Daryl could feel his anger rising.

“What, ain’t you relieved I can’t call you ‘sweet little virgin’ no more, son?” Merle kept egging on.

“Daryl, this isn’t really him. Don’t get angry or we’ll both disapp—”

“—So, my thinking is, Daryl, that you just won’t be able to help yourself from bringing that little sissy boy to them nutjobs —”

“Shut up!” Daryl burst out — and opened his eyes in real time. Again? Is he that much of an idiot?

His pulse was pounding. Dread and self-loathing flooded his mind, how stupid could he be?

Immediately, he squeezed his eyes shut in a desperate hope to get his wife and brother back. He focused, focused, focused, prayed, pretended, focused…

“Daryl,” came her voice.

He could hear Y/N, but not see her. It was clear that it was all him forcing the memory of her voice back. It was all in his head.

“Why bother caring that it’s in your head, sugar? Breathe slowly and focus on the feel of my body against yours. I don’t wanna leave you."

“Y/N, I need to get back,” he panted. “I can use their help to do that. Those religious people, the Union of Hope or whoever, Isabelle says they got a good radio. I need that to get back home.”

“Well, there you go! I trust you.”

He reached up to tangle his fingers where her hair would be. His imagination wasn’t letting it happen, so he focused with gratefulness that at least he could still hear her.

“Just don’t abuse their trust, and you’ll be alright,” she softly pleaded.

Don’t break their trust? “Angel, you don’t know what I did to end up in this mess.”

Of all the ways he could have daydreamed her reacting, it was that her laughter filled the room. “For the last time, my mangy hick, I am a figment of your imagination and quite literally know everythin’ inside that brain of yours. And I still love you despite that ‘shit-show’ what landed you here.”

He brought to mind the color of her eyes, wanting, wanting, begging for a miracle that would make her truly there with him so he could stare into them all night. “What would you say if I asked ‘that if I don’t find nothing, what good am I?’”

“Y/N, you can blame our raising for that shit right there,” his brother commented.

“You poor boys. Broken people sometimes make for broken kids.”

Gently, he started to perceive the way she would rub her cheek against his chest when she’d lay down with him. “Daryl? If I were here, I’d say things to try and make it stick in your head that your worth ain’t dependent on what you can offer.”

“What does it depend on, then?”

“Careful, you’re treading into religious waters now, and I ain’t sure you’ve got the bandwidth tonight. But God is involved,” she hinted.

This mess was hopeless, wasn’t it? No winning, no out, no happy ending.

“Angel, I can’t come home empty-handed.” He squeezed his eyes tighter and willed himself to not lose his cool yet again. “I can’t come home with no Rick or Michonne, no cure, no nothin’ but a burn, more nightmares, and more lives on my conscience.”

“You can,” she answered simply. “It ain’t all on you. No — please, don’t get any more upset or you’ll wake up again! Daryl, I’ve already slipped so far away!” He heard his wife begin to cry, but the sound went further and further from him. All he could see were the backs of his eyelids.

Still, he held on as best he could. “Please stay here, angel.”

“I-I would, sweetheart.”

“When I’m back, I won’t even want to leave the walls to hunt if it would mean not being next to you, d’you know that?”

“Let someone else hunt. You’ve done enough to last a lifetime.” Her voice was hoarse the way it had been when she’d said those same words to him about a year and a half ago. “More than enough. Oh Daryl, I’m so sorry we’re going.”

“Not yet, angel, please don’t!”

“Use all those things makin’ you homesick as reasons to hope. Do it for me, sugar. Get yourself home again. Don’t die, don’t get bit.”

“I won’t. I’ll get back to you. Tell the kids I love ’em?”

There was silence.

Stillness.

Daryl lay there, accepting that he couldn’t feel Y/N next to him anymore.

His throat tightened. “Angel?”

He doesn’t know why he bothered. She was gone, he knew it. He ran his finger where his ring should’ve been, if he hadn’t lost it.

“Angel,” he tried again.

Silence.

“Babe, please. Please.”

Silence.

“Y/N, please, one more time, angel.”

Silence.

The pain in him was hollow and cold.

Feeling small and helpless, he lifted his arms above his head and held back a wail of despair. He closed his eyes again and, in his head, he cried out in desperation, “Merle?”

At first, there was no answer. He hadn't expected one. Why should he?

But then he heard a quiet, low, “I’m still here.”

Merle spoke slowly and heavily, almost as if it hurt him to admit it. “I don’t think she’s gonna come back tonight, Daryl. You’ve already fallen out a few times. I ain’t gonna be here much longer, neither. You know that.”

Any strength he had left seeped out like a stab wound, leaving him crying like a child. “I can’t see you anymore.”

“I know, little brother.”

“It felt so real.”

“It sure as hell did. I think you needed it, even if it hurts like a bitch now.”

It had felt so, so real!

But it wasn’t. “I’m alone,” he choked out.

“Nothin’ you can’t handle.” For a moment Daryl could make out his brother’s face again. “You’re a tough sumbitch, so I’d advise you act like it. Quit blubberin’ like a baby and wipe the snot out your nose.”

Daryl sniffed and tried to get a grip.

“Good.” Merle’s voice began to echo. He was almost gone, too. “Now listen here: don’t die, don’t get bit. Get your ass back where you belong.”

The room came into view.

The echoing stopped.

The hollow, cold pain he’d felt at knowing they were gone there turned sharp and hot. Turns out, it was actually the throbbing in his arm. Daryl really had turned onto his side, which positioned his burned arm underneath him. He strained to get off it and flip onto his back.

You know what? The pain from his burned arm didn’t hold a candle to the ache in his chest.

Were those tears on his face, too? Guess he must’ve started crying for real in his sleep. Made sense considering how real it all felt. It all felt so real.

If only his pulse would stop racing, he felt sick.

He was getting damned old.

Instinctively, he tried to fiddle with his wedding band, which is when he recalled yet again how he’d lost it. Only a faint tan line remained.

He closed his eyes, exhausted, and chewed at his lip. Another tear or two escaped and ran hot down his cheek.

A strange part of him wished he hadn’t lied to Laurent about having a wife and family back home. At the time he said it so it wouldn't hurt as much, but…

“You deserve a happy ending, too,” the kid had told him. Just like his Judith had, when she saw how low and unworthy he begun to feel. She told her auntie Y/N, too, of course, not that his wife wasn’t unaware of how twisted his head had gotten into thinking he was no good. It didn’t feel twisted to him, it felt honest. He didn’t deserve them. They were too good.

His wife’s words to him played again in his mind. He may have just been making all that shit up in his brain, but he was only remembering a mix of real things that she’d told him before, over and over in the hopes his stupid ass would accept it one day.

“Despite how you feel right now, my vote is you will get that happy ending. It ain’t coincidence that Laurent said so just like our Judith did! How’s that for a reason to hope?”

He did need a reason. It was getting harder and harder to hold onto hope. Any hope.

So, maybe, a weird kid with long hair like TJ’s who drew a picture of some washed-up bum on a beach three weeks before Daryl showed up was reason enough to hope. He could grasp onto that.

If it would get him home, hell yeah, he could do that.

How the same weird kid told him what his niece had and what his wife had could be reason enough, too. He could grasp onto that as well, if it would get him home. He could do that for them.

Daryl ran his hand in slow, gentle circles along his stomach like Y/N would. Maybe he’d been doing this in his dream, which is why it felt so real.

It had all felt so, so real.

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

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[kittenashsblog]

Incorrect quotes: Daryl Dixon

Around a dying campfire late at night. Everyone else is asleep, and you notice Daryl staring into the flames.

You: (quietly) “You thinking about something? Or someone?”

Daryl: (glances at you, then looks back at the fire) “Merle. My brother.”

You: “You never talk about him much.”

Daryl: (shrugs) “Ain’t much to say. He was an ass. Got me into trouble more times than I can count... but he was family.”

You: “You miss him?”

Daryl: (pauses) “Yeah. Even after all the crap he put me through. He was the only one who stuck around. Till he didn’t.”

You: “That sounds complicated. But family usually is.”

Daryl: (grunts) “Ain’t that the truth.”

You: “For what it’s worth, I think you’ve done just fine without him. You’ve got a new family now.”

Daryl: (nods slowly) “Yeah. Guess I do.”

[other-dixons-wife]

Sue: *manifests a husband*

Merle: *enters the room*

Sue: ...Fuck.

Is there a "go back" option?

[thatrandomwriter]

Gunshots

Merle Dixon x Reader

Warnings: Violence, death, injury

Summary: Reader and Merle attempt to escape the prison after the Governor attacks, kinda fluffy.

The sounds of gunshots filled the air, along with the groans of the injured, indistinguishable from the sounds of walkers. The Governor’s attack was brutal and unexpected and we were barely surviving, the prison dwellers being picked off one by one as we desperately attempted to defend our lives. What had begun as a well organised, structured attack had soon devolved into chaos as walkers had entered the scene, and the Governor’s people intermingled with ours, making it hard to tell who to kill and who to defend. At this point, it was only possible for me to focus on two things - escaping with my life, and finding Merle.

I zigzagged through the courtyard, deliberately making myself as difficult a target as possible. Shots rang past my ears, and it was impossible to tell if they were aimed at me or at the walkers and other fighters littered around. A woman I didn’t recognise was running toward me. She hesitated but I didn’t, a swift shot to the forehead leaving her crumpled on the floor. There was no time to regret my actions, only to survive. A pair of walkers meandered my way and I grabbed the machete at my waist, stabbing them both in the head in quick succession; they weren’t worth wasting my bullets on.

Rounding a corner, I finally spotted the familiar face I had been looking for - Merle. He was crouched behind a table, reaching around to fire shots at any approaching walkers or the Governor’s people. Two had him pinned down, steadily advancing, but they were yet to see me. With three shots I had taken them out; my marksmanship wasn’t perfect, but three for two wasn’t half bad. Merle’s head snapped around to figure out who had fired on them, and his face broke out into a grin as soon as he recognised my face. I couldn’t help but smile back, despite the circumstances, my run slowing as I got closer. Merle and I hadn’t exactly had the relationship talk, but from the way we acted it was pretty clear to us and everyone else just how important we were to each-other. We spent every night and every waking moment together, and Daryl swore that this was the longest he’d seen Merle tolerate a woman for. Not that that was a major achievement considering Merle’s track record, but in my eyes it was a pretty significant win. For a second, he broke eye contact to fire at another walker, and the second he looked back I could tell that something was seriously wrong. His face dropped. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong, looking to him in confusion. But then I felt it, a heavy, leaden sensation of immense pain in my side. I glanced down and saw hot, red blood seeping through my shirt, spreading far faster than seemed possible. Everything froze as Merle sprang towards me and scooped up my swaying body, half carrying me to behind the table. He set me down surprisingly gently, before leaning away and firing shot after shot, presumably at whoever had just shot me. Stars spun across the front of my eyes and the world tilted around me, Merle’s arm holding me upright the only thing that kept me grounded. He stopped shooting.

“You ain’t dying on my watch. I’m gonna getcha up, ‘n we’re gonna run for those trees right over there, okay?”

It took my swimming head a moment to process the words, but I managed a nod, sensing that that was what he was waiting for. He kissed me, rushed and over far too soon, before draping my arm over his shoulder and pulling both of us into a standing position. I didn’t even have a second to process the sickening pain throbbing even harder in my side before we started moving. I tripped and stumbled at every step, fighting the urge to drop to the floor, close my eyes and give in to the pain, but Merle kept me moving. I knew I was slowing him down. The only thing that stopped me from pulling away and telling him to go on without me was the tight arm around my waist, and the certainty that if I stopped, he would refuse to go on without me. He always had been stubborn. By some miracle we had almost made it to the trees, blurring together into a smear of brown and green. Somewhere in the distance I heard Merle call my name, but he was too far away. I finally let myself fall into darkness.

*

When I opened my eyes for the first time, pain was the only thing I could feel, like fire eating into my side. My head swirled. I couldn’t see, my vision entirely splotchy. I opened my mouth - to speak, to ask what was happening, to call for Merle or anyone who could hear me, but all that came out was a groan of pain.

“Hold still. You’re fine, you’re fine,” Merle’s voice was raspy. He repeated the last two words over and over. For a second, my eyes became clear enough to register the scene in front of me - Merle was crouched in front of me, hand dark with blood that must be mine. He wielded a needle. I squeezed my eyes shut again as I realised what he was about to do, failing to hold onto consciousness as the needle passed through my flesh.

*

When I opened my eyes again, the first thing I was aware of was the throbbing pain in my side. Dull, but ever-present. The second was Merle, his arm around my waist, resting carefully away from white bandages. There was a dark splotch in the middle, but it looked dry - I wasn’t bleeding any more. My head was resting on his chest. He breathed slowly - asleep I gathered, since we were surrounded by darkness, aside from the glowing embers of an almost dead fire. I turned towards him, leaning in and planting a soft kiss on his lips. I felt his mouth twitch into a smile before he kissed me back, warm and familiar, gently wrapping his other arm around me so that I was completely surrounded by Merle.

“Don’t you ever do that shit again, you hear?” His voice cracked slightly and he cleared his throat, attempting to play it off without appearing emotional. I let him.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,”

“I ain’t joking. You try that again and I’ll kill ya myself,” Merle was tracing a soft line up and down my back with his good hand. Once upon a time, I would have believed him capable of killing me and getting a good nights sleep after. Now, I knew that he was full of shit.

“I won’t, I promise. What can I do to make you believe me?”

“I can think of a coupla things that might help,” The suggestive tone in his voice made me whack him on the shoulder. He chuckled, “You’ve put me through a lotta stress the past couple days, that’s all I’m sayin’,”

“Thanks for keeping me alive,” I said.

“I wasn’t just gonna leave ya,” Merle replied. I rested my head back onto his chest as his fingers continued their path up and down my back, my eyes becoming heavy again, but this time from sleep rather than as a result of my injury. My breathing slowed into a regular pace, matched by Merle’s, his chest rising and falling.

“I ain’t ever gonna leave ya,” he said, in a tone hushed enough that I believed he must have thought me asleep already. I let him believe that I was sleeping, keeping my breathing steady and not responding aloud, instead thinking,

‘I’ll never leave you, either.’

[mentally-unstable-hottie13]

A thief, A friend, And a brother

Chapter 2

Chapter summary: It feels like after you meet someone you notice them a lot more everyday doesn't it? At least with Mr. Dixon that’s how it is.

Daryl Dixon x reader

Word count:1,282

Estimated read time: 9 minutes

Chapter 3 is out!

A/N:there are a whole lot of original characters names in here, the reason being the flow of the story, while I would love to put real characters names it wouldn’t make sense going forward, I also promise they will help the relationship later, the first few chapters are more background and relationship set up than anything else, hope you enjoy, Daryl time soon.

~~~~~~🌸~~~~~~~🌸~~~~~🌸~~~~~~~🌸~~~~~~🌸~~~

You enjoy the places you work, the diner is a little more fun than the liquor store but they were both quite easy for you. You loved the social aspect of the diner and how you could connect with your customers, but you also loved how calm the liquor store was most days. It was also common that you did small day work at the local bookstore for an old man named Mr. Hamlin who paid you for your efforts.

On this particular day your schedule looked like this: 6am-1pm at the diner, then 3:30pm-9pm at the liquor store.

You get dressed and by 5:20 you are out of the house. You arrive at the diner after a short walk at 5:46 and say a quick good morning to your co-workers. your favorite of the employees being a shorter spunky girl named Kaya and a very nice but sheepish named Denise. As you hang up your jacket and put on your apron, customers start entering. The day was fairly quiet until a familiar face from last night entered the diner with a couple friends in tow.

“I got this one yall” you yelled to the other servers as you walked over to the table he chose.

Merle looked up at you and smiled his flirtatious grin. “Well goo’mornin’ darlin’ how you been”

You rolled your eyes at his tone and chuckled a bit “I’ve been great Merle”

“That’s great” he looked at the people of his table and began to point “that one right there is-“

You cut him off and began your own pointing “Tristan, Bentley, Buck, Skrewy and..”

You hesitated and looked at the last person. Daryl didn’t look much like his brother, he was smaller, with more hair and a mole next to his mouth. One thing they did have in common though was their bright blue eyes that looked like doll eyes in a way.

“Oh!” You snapped out of thought. “Daryl, sorry my brain goes 100 miles a minute”

You look back at Merle.

“damn girl you know everyone”

“Well Tristan is my friends older brother, Bentley comes by the liquor store every Sunday for a big cup of Mountain Dew, and Skrewy fixes all my shit when it breaks”

You always knew your town was incredibly small, everyone seemed to be in everyone else’s business. It seemed that everyone knew your neighbor Dolores slept with Roger the mailman- everyone but her husband that is- and the same could be said for Mr. Roberts on 13 Jawson rd sleeping with mrs abbigail when his wife Sharon isn’t home, or how everyone knew Mrs. Crawford was retiring. Everyone knew almost everything and everyone.

“Darlin’, can we get a couple of burgers and beers for the table?” Merel gestures to the table of people while he talks.

You quickly wrote the order on the notepad and asked if they would like anything else before giving the order to the cook. The whole time you served other tables you could feel someone’s eyes on you, those electric blue eyes belonged to Daryl Dixon. Why did you stop when you had to say his name? Were you thinking about all the rumors you heard of him and his family? Did you have something to say? Or did you just not want to serve the town trash? All things were going through his mind as he stared you down. He had a habit of hating people before giving them a chance and to him you were no different than the others.

“____! order for table 6!” The cook shouted for you from across the diner.

“That’s on me!” You yelled backed before going to get the plates and drinks

“Here you guys go, 5 burgers, one with no lettuce, 3 with fries, and 5 beers. Enjoy.”

“Oh we will Miss____, thank you”

You continued your rounds and after about an hour Merle’s party left, and a couple hours later it was time for you to head to the liquor store. With a quick goodbye to Denise and Kaya you were walking your way to the store.

“Well good morning Mr. Murphy!” You yell at the old black man who always seemed to be outside the store smoking his cigarette.

“____ you know good and well it’s no longer morning….. but hello to you too” he chuckled and took another inhale of his cigarette before you walked inside.

“George?! Are you here?!” You cup your mouth looking for your boss.

BANG,CRASH……tonk

“God damn it!!” You hear your boss yell from the back room.

“Are you okay!?” You run toward the noise

“I’m fine, but the shelf and a month’s supply of mega gulp cups are not” he kicks one of the fallen cups in frustration.

George was an interesting man, to you at least. He had long brown hair to the middle of his back, dark brown eyes, and a horrid mouth on him only challenged by a sailor. You often found yourself getting lost in the tattoos that covered the man starting on his forehead, down his chest and arms and eventually falling down to his ankles. For being such an intimidating looking man he was quite childish, but in an extremely fun way. One time the two of you went to go buy his daughter clothes at the thrift store and you spent almost half an hour just looking for where he and his daughter kept disappearing too (they were inside the clothing racks everytime, giggling and screaming when you found them).

“What in the world happened anyway?” You asked a little befuddled at the scene before you.

“I tried grabbin’ the fucken Marlboro shipment box to restock and the shelf crippled itself, cups and the packs went everywhere.”

“Oh I’m so sorry could I help you?”

“Nah I don’t need it, just get out front and work the register, if anyone asks for Marlboro tell them we are out”

“And the cups?”

“I’ll put an out of order paper on the soda machine”

A slight sigh of frustration exists both of you before you walk into the front of the store while George cleans up. As if by coincidence the moment you get behind the register glass you make eye contact with 2 pairs of blue eyes.

“Oh!” You squeak in surprise.

“Well welll darlin’ this the 3rd time in the last 30 hours, you stalkin’ me or somethin?” Merle says, beaming with a cocky smirk.

“Who would stalk you?, And last I checked you’ve been to my friends house, my first job at the diner, and now you’re at my job at a liquor store. Sounds to me like you’re the stalker Mr. Dixon” you returned the smirk.

“If you two are done being fuckin weird I’d like my fuckin smokes” you finally hear the younger brother, Daryl, speak.

“Oh I’m sorry, what kind?”

You knew there was nothing wrong with this man. You had never even met before today. All knowledge you had of him was rumors. “That Dixon boy was in another damn fight”, “the Dixon boys caused another commotion”, “those Dixon boys were caught with drugs again” but you never confirmed any of these things to be true. ‘I don’t believe he was caught with drugs. Merle of course but I can’t see the younger one with them.’ You thought to yourself as you looked at the man while he scanned the cigarette options on the display behind you. ‘He’s got one hell of an ill mannered attitude though; as long as I don’t make him angry everything should be okay.’

The man finally looks back to you from the display and says “Marlboro”

‘Well fuck’

~~~~~~🌸~~~~~~~🌸~~~~~~~🌸~~~~~~🌸~~~~~~~~~~

Special thanks to my beta reader, Niaxn!

Thank you for reading

[lemonbxrry]

Doctor's Orders

ZERO / ONE / TWO / THREE / FOUR / FIVE / SIX / SEVEN

Season One, Episode 5: Wildfire

        I LAY IN MY TENT, staring at the wall. I cracked my knuckles, dry pieces of blood chipping off. 

"(Name), you gotta come out," Shane said outside of the tent, I didn't respond. I closed my eyes and counted backward, trying to figure out what I could have done differently. He sighed and left my tent, his footsteps getting quieter as he walked away. I curled into a ball, shutting my eyes tightly. She was going to turn at any point and I couldn't even get up and see how long that was going to be. I killed her. I didn't kill her, a walker did. I could have saved her if only I was fast enough. I should have been fast enough. I'm a doctor for crying out loud. I covered my ears, pushing those thoughts out of my head. I sat up, looking at the cloth door. I need to do something, anything. I unzip the tent, seeing Andrea hovered over Amy still. The rest of the adults were huddled around each other, talking. 

"Are you bleeding?" I hear as soon as I get close enough in range. I stop in my steps, looking over at Jacqui and Jim. 

"I just got some on me from the bodies," Jim tried explaining. 

"That blood is fresh. Were you bit?" I asked, anxiously, getting closer to the two. Jim bends down to pick up one of our people, standing back up. 

"No, I got scratched during the attack," he lied. 

"You got bit," Jacqui stood and backed up, I stood in front of her, narrowing my eyes. 

"Jim, you can't lie about something like this," I began to tell him. 

"I'm fine," he tried to change the topic. 

"Show me. Show me your scratch. Prove you aren't bit," I pleaded, something like this can't be happening now. He looked up at me from where he was about to pick up what was on the ground. Everyone glanced over. 

"Don't tell, please," he whispered. I took a step back with Jacqui, trying to keep my distance. 

"A walker got him, a walker bit Jim," Jacqui began to call out. Everyone began to circle, enclosing Jim like an animal. 

"I'm okay, I'm-"

"Show it to us. Show it," Daryl called out, having his pickaxe ready. Jim turned around and got his shovel, wielding it to protect himself. 

"Jim, easy, we're just wanting to help," I told him, trying to calm him down. "Put it down," T-Dog came up behind him, grabbing his arms and putting them behind his back. I cautiously walk over, trying not to startle him more before pulling up his shirt up to the middle of his ribs. A large bite mark on his left side, oozing with blood. 

"I'm okay," Jim kept repeating even after everyone saw he was bitten. We stared at him in fear, backing up. 

"I say we put a pickaxe through his head and the dead girl's and be done with it," Daryl said, looking at us all. 

"Daryl he hasn't shown any signs of turning yet," I tried to point out, "No fever, no slow movements, nothing,"

"Is that what you'd want if it were you?" Shane asked Daryl, I stood next to him, expecting a yes already from the man. 

"Yeah, and I'd thank you while you did it," Daryl told him plainly.

"I hate to say it, I never thought I would, but maybe Daryl's right," Dale said, convinced by what the hillbilly said. 

"Jim's not a monster, Dale, or some rabid dog," Rick said, his hands placed on his hips. 

"I'm not suggesting-" Dale tried to talk, Rick cutting him off and continuing his tangent. 

"He's sick. A sick man. We start down that road, where do we draw the line?" 

"The line's pretty clear. Zero tolerance for walkers, or them to be," Daryl told Rick. 

"What if we can get him help? There obviously has to be something, I mean for God's sake he is still alive and moving," I told him, throwing my hands in the air a bit, frustrated with how things were going, "Last I remember hearing was that the C.D.C. was working on a cure," I tried convincing everyone who wasn't on Rick and I's side. 

"I heard that too. Heard a lot of things before the world went to hell," Shane said, shaking his head. 

"What if the C.D.C. is up and running?" Rick asked, trying to go back to my point of the C.D.C.

"Man, that is a stretch right there," Shane said, shaking his head, looking at Rick, and then back at me. 

"Why?" I asked, exasperated about how difficult this conversation was becoming. It was like Shane had lost all hope ever since Rick came back. "If there's any government left, any structure at all, they'd protect the C.D.C. at all costs, wouldn't they?"

"It's our best shot. Shelter, protection-" Rick began to back me up, Shane interrupting him. 

"Okay, Rick, you want all those things, all right? I do too, okay? Now if they exist, they're at the army base. Fort Benning," Shane said, talking of a location that is the complete opposite of where we are trying to go now. 

"That's 100 miles in the opposite direction," I slightly exclaim, throwing my arms out in frustration. 

"That is right, but it's away from the hot zone. Now listen to me, if that place is operational, it'll be heavily armed. We'd be safe there, (Name), they could probably especially use your help, seeing that you're trying to be a doctor," he fought for his side of the argument, trying to persuade me out of my own side. 

"That doesn't help us though, the military was on the front lines of this outbreak," I told him, "They got overrun, we all saw it. The C.D.C. is our best choice and Jim's only chance," A couple of people glanced back at Jim, who was a little ways off from our meeting. 

"You go looking for Aspirin, do what you need to do," Daryl said, he began to take a running start at Jim, "Someone needs to have some balls to take care of this damn problem," everyone ran after him, Rick and I getting there the quickest out of the group, I ran in front of Jim, trying to use myself as a shield as Rick held his pistol at Daryl's head. Daryl stared right at Jim and me, huffing. 

"Hey hey hey! We don't kill the living," Rick told him, Daryl turned to look at him as Shane came up beside me, holding his shotgun. 

"That's funny coming from a man who just put a gun to my head," Daryl told him.

"We may disagree on some things, not on this. You put it down, go on," Shane told Daryl. Daryl looked at me and handed the pickaxe to me, huffing and stomping away. Shane followed after him, I waited to see what Rick wanted to do. 

"Come on," Rick picked Jim up. 

"Where are you taking me?" he asked worriedly, not liking what has been happening at all. 

"Somewhere safe," he answered. 

THE WALKING DEAD

 I stood there, talking with Rick and Shane about what we planned to do, and what we should have for Jim, seeing that the infection hasn't gotten to him yet. Then something caught my eye. The corpse of Amy sitting up and Andrea just letting it happen. I gently pat their arms to get their attention to look and they noticed, getting into a defense and attack stance. I follow after them as they both bring out their pistols, having, the three of us quietly and briskly walk towards Andrea and the animated body of Amy. Then she did what none of us thought she would do. She shot Amy right through the head. The shot rang through the area, loud and clear as day. Andrea just caressed the now fully dead body of her sister. We all stayed silent. 

THE WALKING DEAD

We walked up to where Daryl was at the end of complaining to Shane and Rick, "These people need to know who the hell's in charge here, what the rules are,"

"There are no rules," Rick answered, looking up at Daryl, stopping from digging one of the graves. 

"Well that's a problem," Lori spoke, causing everyone to glance at her, "We haven't had one minute to hold onto anything of our old selves. We need time to mourn and we need to bury our dead. It's what people do," she finished. We helped put our people into the ground, Amy is one of the last people to be buried. Andrea struggling to bury her and Dale trying his best to help. Once that was over, we began our trek back to camp. I walked alone, trying to think and letting the people who needed to mourn, mourn. Carl walked up to me, holding onto my hand. 

"Are you going to leave too?" he asked, looking up at me. I furrowed my brows, confused. 

"No, I'm not going to leave," I told him, giving his hand a small squeeze. "I have so much I want you to learn and we still have all the time in the world," I tried to lift his spirits. He nodded, as though he understood. We got back to the camp and Carl ran off to go play with Sophie, I made a beeline to the RV that Jim was in. He was sweating profusely. 

"Oh shit," I mumbled, looking through my bag and finding a water bottle, filled with the lake water from a little while ago. I dig through the cabinets of Dale's RV, trying to find a bowl. Luckily finding one, I dump the water into it, grab a clean rag and dip it into it, then go and press it on Jim's forehead, trying to cool him off. His bandage already needed a new change, damnit. I sighed through my nose, trying to think of the best possible solutions to make Jim more comfortable and also require fewer resources. I turn back hearing footsteps, seeing Lori and Rick come in, "His fever is worse," I told them, going back to dabbing at Jim's head with the cold water.

"You need anything?" Lori asked him. 

"Uh, water. Could use more water," he answered, his voice raspy.

"I'll get some," 

"Okay," Jim mumbled quietly. I wrung out the water into the bowl and scooped a new clump of water into the cloth, I think I had some more towels in my tent, I don't remember. Lori left and Rick sat across from where we were. 

"You save a grave for me?" Jim asked, swallowing hard. Rick looked away, biting his cheek. 

"Nobody wants that,"

"It's not about what you want," Jim gave a small pause and looked distant. "That uh, that sound you hear, that's God laughing while you make plans," Jim had a solemn look on his face, already accepting his defeat. 

"What I want, Jim, if God allows, is to get you some help," I told him, a concerned look placed on my face, He gives a small and short smile until his face contorts into pain and he starts having a coughing fit. Rick hands me a pot that sat beside him, giving it to Jim as he coughs blood into the pot. He groaned, inhaling some fresh air, and finally began to calm down from the fit. 

"Watch the mangroves. The roots will gouge the whole boat. You know that, right? Amy is there swimming. You'll watch the boat, right?" he glanced between Rick and me. I placed my hand over my mouth, nodding. He stayed looking at Rick, who hadn't given him his answer yet. "You said you would," 

"I'll watch the boat, (Name) and I will both watch it," Rick told him. Jim nodded, mumbling a small okay. 

Rick stepped out of the RV as I continued watching over Jim, dumping out the old water into the ground through a window, opening another lake water bottle, and getting fresh water. I wrote in my notebook about the last couple of days, seeing I wasn't really able to write about last night. I ran a hand through my hair, letting it out of its usual updo, it causing a massive headache from how tight I've been putting it up. 

THE WALKING DEAD

I was sitting on one of the pullout chairs next to Carl, showing him one of the newest books I got him and for the other kids to read. Then Shane, Dale, and Rick came back from their sweep, finding their place in the small broken-up circle. 

"I've uh, I've been thinking about Rick's plan. Now look, there are no, uh, there are no guarantees either way. I'll be the first to admit that. I've known this man for a long time," he looked directly at Rick, then glanced at me. "I also trust (Name)'s instincts about this too, she's a doctor and the C.D.C. probably has stuff for her to help with. I say the most important thing here is we need to stay together. So those of you that agree, we leave first thing in the morning. Okay?" he asked rhetorically, knowing we couldn't really say much about the time. 

THE WALKING DEAD

I awoke at dawn, panting, I unzipped my tent and began to walk out. Stumbling out I headed out to start packing, finding anything that I could take and what I should leave behind or possibly give to another person. After a couple of hours, everyone began to wake up and pack, I had a black duffle bag, a small grey medical bag, and my own bag. 

"Those of you with C.B.s., we're gonna be on channel 40. Let's keep the chatter down, okay? Now you got a problem, don't have a C.B., can't get a signal or anything at all, you're gonna hit your horn one time. That'll stop the caravan. Any questions?" Shane finished, making sure everyone knew what the plan was. I stood next to him, having been told by him that he wants to be riding with me, seeing that he needs to make sure I am protected as best as possible, not really trusting anyone with my well-being seeing as the last couple of times I went out without him I met a couple of bad experiences. 

"We're uh," Morales began, causing everyone to look at him. "We're not going," everyone stared in disbelief. 

"We have family in Birmingham," his wife, Miranda, explained. "We want to be with our people," she held her daughter Eliza tightly. 

"You go on your own, you won't have anyone to watch your back," Shane told them, trying to convince them to stay. 

"We'll take the chance. I gotta do what's best for my family," Morales explained, looking at Rick. 

"You sure?" Rick asked. 

"We talked about it, we're sure," 

"Alright, Shane," Rick said, the two going through the duffel bag with the guns. They handed him a gun and some ammo. 

"Thank you all, for everything," Miranda said, her voice cracking. Carl sat on the hood of the car, crying to himself as Lori stood up and hugged Miranda. I walked over to Eliza and Louis, giving them both hugs, shifting through my bag, and handing them some candy I found while going on a supply run that I was planning to give them later during the trip. 

"You guys take care of your mom and dad, alright?" I told them, rubbing both r of their shoulders reassuringly. The kids all hugged, crying, then they began to walk away to their car. 

"What makes you think our odds are any better?" Shane asked Rick, not saying goodbye or feeling saddened by their leaving. "Come on, let's go, let's move out," that made everyone go into the cars that they were assigned to. I gave a small smile and waved at Glenn before getting into the car that Shane had for us. I stared out the window, my legs propped up on the seat. Just thinking and watching the scenery pass by as we went faster behind everyone. I closed my eyes, trying not to cry from everything we lost. Shane grabbed hold of my hand, giving it a tight squeeze and then just gently holding it. I took a small breath, knowing that I wouldn't be here without him and know who I know today. 

THE WALKING DEAD

We stood in the street, looking at the RV. It overheated and steam was pouring out of the engine area. 

"Y'all, Jim," Jacqui said, getting out of the RV. "It's bad, I don't think he can take anymore," she told us. I quickly rushed into the RV after her, I sit beside Jim, placing my hand on his head, wincing at how hot his head felt. 

"Leave me here," Jim begged. "I'm done, I want to be with my family," he told me. Rick stood behind me. 

"They're dead, I don't think you know what you're asking. The fever, you've been delirious more often than not," Rick tried to convince him to stay. 

"You don't think I don't know?" Jim replied, wincing in pain. "I'm clear now. In five minutes, I may not be," he told us, I furrow my brows. He's right. The infection is going faster at this moment. "Rick, (Name), I know what I'm asking," he told us solemnly. "I want this, leave me here. Now that's on me. Okay? My decision, not your failure," I looked down. 

THE WALKING DEAD

"It's what he wants," Rick told the group. 

"And he's lucid?" Carol asked, not believing us. 

"It appears that yes, he is lucid. He was responding to us extremely well and knew what was happening around him," I told her, knowing that they were most likely going to take my word for it seeing that I am the only doctor in the group at the moment. 

"I would say yes, back in the camp when I said Daryl might be right and you shut me down, you misunderstood. I would never go along with callously killing a man. I was just gonna suggest that we ask Jim what he wants. And I think we have the answer," Dale said solemnly, turning to look at us all. 

"We just leave him here? We take off? Nah, I'm not sure I could live with that," Shane said, glancing down, then looking back up at Rick and me. 

"It's not your call, either one of you," Lori said, giving us a look. I sigh, heading back into the RV to tell Jim about what we decided. 

THE WALKING DEAD

 Shane and Rick lay Jim against a tree, the three of them grunting. I dab at his forehead with the towel from earlier, trying to make him as comfortable as possible. 

"Yeah, that's it," Rick mumbled to himself, we circled him with solemn stares. Everyone came up to the hill where we laid Jim, each person having mixed emotions. 

"Hey, another damn tree," Jim chuckled, looking at Shane. 

"Y'know Jim, I mean, you know it doesn't need to be this," Shane tried to plead with him. 

He shook his head in response, "It's good. The breeze feels nice," Shane nodded his head, looking down. 

"Okay," he told Jim, standing up, "Alright," he swiped at his face, backing up from Jim.

Jacqui knelt next to Jim, placing her hand on his cheek in a comforting move, "Just close your eyes, sweetie. Don't fight," she gave him a kiss on his cheek, standing and walking away, lightly crying. Rick knelt next to him, holding out a small pistol. 

"Do you want this?" he asked him, wanting to not leave him with nothing to defend himself. 

"No, you'll need it," Jim said. Rick nodded, "I'm okay," Dale was next to say goodbye to the man, 

"Thanks for uh, for fighting for us," he gave a thin smile, patting Jim on the leg lightly. Jim only nodded, mumbling a small 'Okay'. Soon everyone began to disperse, I lingered behind with Daryl, the two sharing a look. Daryl turned to leave, walking back with the group. 

"I wish I could say you are going peacefully, but I can't promise anything," I told him softly, squatting down next to him. "I can only hope and pray for whatever you believe in that it is peaceful," I squeezed his hand, giving him a soft look. "Though, I can say that you are going to see your family again," he smiled up at me, nodding, then looked at the sky and closed his eyes. I took this as my queue to leave and walked back to the group, getting in Shane's jeep. 

THE WALKING DEAD

 We exit the cars, finally coming up onto the CDC building. All of us got out quietly and carefully. We hold our breaths, the stench of rotten corpses filling our senses. My eyes began to sting, and I furiously blink, trying to get my tears out of the way. I held my bat closely, making sure I had my knife in range.

"Alright, everybody. Keep moving, go on," Shane whispered to us, waving his hand in a circular motion so we weren't just sitting ducks gagging at the bodies lingering around us. I stop for a second, thinking, 'What if there are some medical supplies,' I shook my head, moving again, 'Someone would have gotten it by now,'. "Stay quiet, let's go," he jogged up to where Rick and I were, looking around. Flies buzzed all around us, flying into our clothes and onto our faces. 

"Stick together, keep moving, come on," Rick and Shane said, the two taking the lead, I turned around to try and hush anyone who was walking too loudly, making sure the kids were okay and that their moms were too. The others began walking faster, almost bumping into one another. A couple of 'Oh gods' were mumbled amongst the group. We were finally at the entrance of the door, all of us jogging up to it. 

"Keep together, we're almost there," I called out gently. Rick pressed against the door, it only squeaked against his weight. Shane tried pushing with his back, the door again only squeaking against the pressure but not moving. Shane began to pound on the door, it makes a loud couple of rattles. 

"There's nobody here," T-Dogg said, sounding defeated. 

"Then why are the shutters down? The only way to have them down is if someone is in here," I told him, looking around the door and down at the other shutters.

"Walkers!" Daryl called out, everyone aiming their guns at the walkers starting to come around. Carl or Sophia whimpered in fear. "You led us into a graveyard!" he exclaimed, walking furiously towards me, I back up a bit, trying to not close the distance. 

"She made a call!" Dale tried excusing. 

"It was the wrong damn call!" 

"No, there's someone in there, there has to be," I tried to explain, trying to make it seem like this was for nothing. Once he got a little too close Shane jumped in between us, shoving Daryl away. 

"Just shut up. You hear me? Shut up. Shut up!" Shane told the man, pointing at him, "(Name), this is a dead-end," Shane said, turning to look at Rick and me. 

"Where are we going to go?" Lori asked, pulling Carl into her. 

"Do you hear me? No blame," Shane told us, Rick and I looked around, trying to find anything. 

"He's right, we can't be here this close to the city after dark," Lori explained, Carl whimpered into her, the boy tightening his grip on her. 

"Fort Benning, it's still an option," Shane pleaded, desperate. 

"On what? No food, no fuel, that's 100 miles," Lori argued. 

"125, I checked the map," Glenn said, cocking his shotgun. 

"Not the time to be a smart-ass Glenn," I commented, glancing at him, giving him an exasperated look.

"Forget Fort Benning. We need answers tonight, now," Lori demanded, looking between us all. Everyone begins to talk hurriedly, repeating 'Let's go,'. I look back up at the camera, noticing it moved.

"Rick, Rick the camera, it moved, I told him, grabbing his wrist and pointing up. 

"You imagined it," Dale said, glancing at me and then back at the camera. 

"It moved," I pleaded to Rick, trying to convince him that it did. 

"It's an automated device, it's just gears. They're just winding down, come on," Shane said, grabbing my arm. I tried to stand my ground, putting all my weight down, "Man, just listen to me. Look around this place. It's dead, okay? It's dead. You need to let it go, (Name)," I pulled myself away from him, looking right at the camera, pounding on the shutter. 

"I know you're in there. I know you can hear me," I called out, anger swelling in my body. "Please we're desperate. Please help us, we have women, children, no food, hardly any gas left," I begged, tears threatening to pour out. Glenn walked up to me as I threw my hand out, pushing me back from the camera. 

"(Name), there's nobody here," Glenn tried shoving me back as I pushed against him. 

"We have nowhere else to go," I pounded against the door, almost throwing myself into it. 

"If you don't let us in, you're killing us," I screamed at the camera, tears falling already as I wiped furiously, looking back at the group. "Please!" I begged, Shane and Glenn, having to drag me away as everyone headed back to the cars. Everyone shouting over each other. I kept repeating, "You're killing us!" over and over again to the camera, fighting against the two men. Then the sound of the shutters opened behind as they threw me forwards, I stumbled a bit, catching myself and looking back, my eyes wide and tears still falling. Everyone looked at the sight, a bright light engulfing us.

[minervadashwood]

Reunion

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warning: none Fandom: The Walking Dead (TV) Relationship: Daryl Dixon/You; Daryl Dixon/Female Reader Characters: Daryl Dixon, You, Reader, Plus size reader Tropes: Reader-Insert, Second Chances, Second Chance Romance, Family, fluff and angst. Words: 2,993. Complete

Summary

You've been with your large family since the start of the outbreak. One morning, your group runs into Daryl's, and suddenly the one person you never thought you'd see again is holding you in his arms. Can you rekindle the love you once had, or has too much time apart ruined everything?

There were enough tents scattered about the deserted store to resemble an indoor version of the infamous Hoovervilles, mainstays during the Dust Bowl. Only instead of a collection of impoverished strangers, this little tent city was filled with members of your huge family, as well as Daryl’s group. The latter consisted of a collection of formerly random strangers, including a pregnant woman and her police officer husband: the man in charge. 

Your family and Daryl’s group had come across each other in this very same building, an abandoned but abundant Costco. The instant you set your eyes on Daryl, you ran to him, and without question he welcomed you into his arms. For a few seconds, it was a trip into the past, back before all this started and when you were still together. The hug was over quickly, both groups looking on in silent surprise, and under their scrutiny, you and Daryl backed away from each other, neither one of you enjoying the attention. 

Then, introductions were made, supplies divided, everyone silently sizing the others up. Once again, heads turned when Daryl, easily the quietest person in that store  said, “Why don’ we all jus’ stick together? Hol’ this place down for a few days. Got ‘nough people now to make it work.”

He looked at you as he said it, not at the self-appointed leaders of each group, Rick and your younger brother, the army vet.. The best you could offer Daryl was a tiny, grateful smile. Seeing him again after all this time was a blessing, to be sure, but weighed down by the past and by the current state of the world.

Your brother shook hands with Rick, and all was settled, the two self-appointed captains combining forces for the time being.

Now, in the back end of the store, near the loading bays and emergency exits, everyone had set to turning the windowless, concrete chamber into a temporary home. Just about the time you were deciding what job to tackle next, Daryl caught your eye with a small nod. Despite the years apart, you were still fluent in the language of Daryl Dixon, so you followed him.

Now you sat on a sturdy storage crate, with him next to you, well away from the others.

“Knife,” he said, pulling a whetstone from a pocket in his cargo pants.

You complied, pulling your hunting knife out and handing it over.

After a moment, he asked, “How did all of y’all make it?”

The scraping of your knife on the whetstone was the only sound for some time. Your dad and brothers were amateur survivalists. Not the end of the world bunker type, but age-old lessons passed down through the years, improved upon with each generation. All of you learned to shoot as soon as you were old enough, likewise for your brothers’ children, half of whom were deep into adolescence.  One of your sisters in law was a PA. However, none of that explained how all of you’d survived in a world where so many were lost. 

 “Luck,” you whispered, then your voice full but light, “That or all of mom’s praying actually amounts to something.”

He scoffed at your joke. 

“What about you?” you asked. “Merle? Your dad?”

He shook his head, once, and remained silent.

“I’m sorry,” you told him.

“Don’t be,” he said.

You wiped your hands on your knees, palms sweaty as nervous energy had your eyes watching your family while you longed to study Daryl as he worked.  For years, he’d been the one who got away. And now he was with you once more. A chance meeting, here at the end of the world.

You first met years ago, stranded on a country road without cell phone service. All you wanted was a drive to clear your mind, to get you out of the rat race of academia for a few hours. No one knew where you’d gone, and on your way the lack of phone service had been welcome. But a blown head gasket had you pondering an eight-mile walk back to civilization.  

However, your luck turned when a beat-up old motorcycle stopped suddenly, spraying dirt and gravel as its rider spun around.�� The rider in question was Daryl, handsome, rugged, brusque but kind. To you, he was a white knight riding in on a shining steed, the Aragorn to your Arwen.

He fixed your car, followed you back home, to the small college town where you were teaching those days. You asked for his number and it grew from there. Things were good, really good. He was one of the few men you’d dated who wasn’t obsessed with sex. It took three months before you even kissed. He would show you the most beautiful places, a natural spring with delicious, crystal clear water.  A secluded waterfall with a cave behind it, the dark place filled with undisturbed mineral wonders. On the fourth of July, he drove you to an overlook to watch the display of fireworks, far from the eyes of strangers. For your birthday weekend, he gave you a motorcycle helmet of your own and took you camping, where you made love for the first time under the stars. You spent all your free time with him, neglecting piles of ungraded papers and a growing list of unread emails in your inbox.

But it was worth it.  Daryl was worth it.

Then, almost a year after you met, he disappeared. Your calls went unanswered until one day an automated voice told you the number was no longer in service. Multiple times you drove by his trailer only to find it lifeless. No motorcycle in the drive, no lights on, all the curtains pulled shut. Not even the motion-sensored security light worked anymore. 

Right now you wanted so badly to ask what happened. Where things went wrong. What made him give up everything the two of you had and leave without a word. 

You permitted yourself to look down at him. He smoothed his finger along the edge of your knife blade, then he gave it back to you, handle first. Ever the Southern gentleman.

He jutted his chin at your hip, where your gun remained in its holster. “When’s the last time ya cleaned it?”

A week or more, you knew. How many times had you used it since then? You couldn’t count. You unfastened the holster and handed the sidearm to him. Your father had given it to you when all this started. His “gift” to his only daughter, the one grown-up in the family who didn’t own a gun.

Across the way, your father was wrangling the twins, two blonde-haired toddlers who were vehemently protesting “bathtime.” Bathtime these days amounted to little more than a wet rag with a bit of bar soap spread over it.

“I can do that myself, you know,” you told Daryl as he started taking apart your gun and laying the pieces on a cloth spread across his lap.

He huffed, but otherwise stayed silent. 

Again, you gave in to your urge to watch him. His thick, strong fingers wiped down each piece of your gun. From one of his many pockets, he took out gun oil and rubbed it liberally on all the inner workings of your weapon.

He’d always had a knack for finding things to tinker with. Back then, he would look around your rental house for something to fix: a creaky door, a flickering light bulb, a loose kitchen cabinet.

The sight of him taking care of your gun made the years apart disappear, almost. And you found yourself falling into the comfortable silence for a little longer. After a time, you gave up on the urge to reach for him, to take his hand or ruffle his hair. But you did scoot a little closer, now closely watching him as he put your gun back together.

He huffed again, but didn’t shy away from you. Instead, he looked up slightly, the tiniest of smiles on his lips. 

You couldn’t help returning his smile with one of your own, but yours was effusive, heart melting and picking up speed as you gazed at each other. 

Eventually, he handed your gun back to you and wiped his hands on the dirty cloth from his lap. 

“Rick’ll do right by y’all,” he murmured. “Yer folks need a place to stay jus’ like we do.”

“That’s a lot of people to take on,” you protested. 

“I seen your dad and brothers, their wives, too. Y’all’ll hold yer own. ‘Sides, look at all them kids.”

You did, watching the two younger boys work together to set the long folding tables with dinnerware. Meanwhile, the four older teenagers helped your brothers move shelves around, creating a barricade for the night. You mom and sisters in law were going through food supplies, swapping things with Carol and Lori, all of them smiling the polite way that Southern women had when just getting to know each other.

Daryl cleared his throat. “Any of them kids yers?”

You giggled. “Lord no.  Mom wishes, though.”  It was true, despite already having eight grandchildren, your mother always wanted you to settle down and have a few of your own.  However, that was never important to you. “You know I never wanted kids.”

He shrugged. “Been a long time. Things can change.”

Before you could reply, one of your brothers walked over, the mischievous glint in his eye not boding well for you.

“Sis, we’re trying to figure out the watch schedules for the night. Figured with all of us here we could double up, so six altogether. You and Dad--”

You shook your head. “He needs a break.”

“I’ll take second watch wi’ ya,” Daryl announced, studiously studying his fingernails. 

You smiled at Daryl, blushing when your brother snickered. Your family hadn’t asked yet how you knew the man, but the interrogation would happen sooner or later, you were sure.

“Guess that’ll work,” your brother mused. “Got all the couples keeping watch. Put the little ones with Mom and Dad.”

“Couple? Daryl and I aren’t a couple!” you squeaked, drowning in embarrassment.

“Coulda fooled me, Sis, you two over here all by your lonesome.”

Leave it to your brother to hit where it would hurt the most. 

Daryl stood up and walked away without a word. Dread settled in your belly. You couldn't blame him. He was the one who’d left, after all. He made it clear by his absence that he didn’t want you the same way you wanted him.

The way you still wanted him.

“Something I said?” your brother quipped. You flipped him off and went to help your dad. 

*

A few months later.

The November gale practically ripped through your winter gear, trying to blow you sideways off the bike. You pressed your forehead and nose against Daryl’s back for just a moment, holding tightly to him as he drove down the deserted back road to the nearest town.

You’d found a new shelter a week ago, something to hopefully see you through the worst of the winter. But food was hard to come by. Your little nieces were listless and cried themselves to sleep multiple times a day. The rest of the kids slept so much, exhausted from maintaining the shelter while the adults kept watch and went hunting.

Your family and Daryl’s group had acclimated to one another. Carl was friends with your nieces and nephews, Sophia, too, but she rarely went anywhere on her own without Carl.

As you expected, your brothers had weaseled your history with Daryl out of you,  ganging up on you one night while the camp slept. Your younger brother ran the watches and supply runs like a seasoned officer. He and Rick would butt heads at times, but it all worked out in the end.

One of your brother’s brilliant ideas? Battle buddies. And, of course, Daryl was yours. Primary objectives: reconnaissance and supplies.

You lifted your head up once more, blinking your dry eyes and looking out for walkers as Daryl drove. You weren’t sure how long you’d be gone from the others, only a few days, you hoped.

Eventually, Daryl stopped at a little hamlet. Not much around except a Dairy Queen, a Piggly Wiggly, and an old Exxon with boarded up windows. It looked like it’d been abandoned long before the outbreak.

You begrudgingly unwrapped your hands from Daryl’s waist, bidding adieu to all the warmth he provided. You both quietly got off the bike, and using well-practiced hand signals began clearing the nearest building.

Neither you had spoken about the past, not in all the supply runs, watches, or even during the long hours of boredom that came along with survival. Yet in some ways, things were like they’d been back then. Those first few weeks of dating were rocky, with Daryl so quiet and standoffish. But you learned and so did he.

Now, those past lessons were paying off. You knew which way he’d move before he took a step. And likewise he knew just when you needed a break or reassurance. You needed a lot of reassurance these days because, next to Daryl, you found yourself always lacking. His movements were impossibly silent, his aim impossibly true, his determination impossible to live up to. It was a struggle to keep up with him, but you tried. Every damn day you tried to be the Battle Buddy Daryl Dixon deserved.

The first building was clear of both walkers and supplies, and that didn’t bode well for the rest of the area, which had likely already been picked clean. Outside, the wind had picked up even more, but now a flurry of swirling whiteness clouded your vision.

Snow. In Georgia? 

While you stared at the whirling flakes, Daryl continued on, unfazed by the change in weather. You followed him to the Dairy Queen, where he climbed in through the drive through window and pulled you in after him. The place was piled high with cones of every shape and size. You undid the ties on your hood and threw it back, laughing at the sight. You doubled over, imagining the motorcycle piled high with wavering towers of ice cream cones strapped to your back: a feast for the famished. Towers of cake cones the saving grace in an apocalypse. 

It took you a few moments to regain your composure, and you fully expected Daryl to be glaring at you or ignoring your outburst entirely to look for more substantive food supplies.

Instead, he was gazing at you softly, a gentle smile on his lips.

You froze, momentarily lost in the way he watched you. “Sorry,” you mumbled.

He chewed his bottom lip, eyes still soft but now searching your face. “‘S good to hear ya laugh,” he whispered, drawing closer. “Been too long since I heard it.”

Heat suffused your cheeks as he got even nearer, his solid frame so close and warm next to you. How long it had been since you forbid yourself to think of him like this. For months you’d shut off that part of your heart, protecting it from disappointment and instead focusing on feeding your family.

But all that resistance was gone now, and again you wanted him. You wanted the sweet, quiet man you fell in love with. You wanted the dry-witted survivalist who was with you now. 

And yet, there was a reason you didn’t have him . A reason that you’d shut off your heart from this painful longing.

Daryl reached for your hand, but you backed away, accidentally nudging a defunct ice cream machine with your hip. It ached, but you ignored the self-inflicted injury.

“Why?” you whispered to him, his face no longer soft but hardened, jaw set and eyes narrowed. “Why did you disappear?”

He shook his head and turned away, and you let out a long breath. As much as you wanted an answer, you didn’t expect one.

You wiped the tears that dripped from your eyes without your permission. They stung your windburned cheeks.

Then, he spoke, his back to you.

“Back there, ya got all them people who care ‘bout ya. Yer folks, yer brothers, little nieces all lookin’ up to ya.”

You stilled, to give him time to gather his thoughts, his words. His voice cracked as he spoke. He sniffed.

“An’ all I had was Merle. He raised me, gave a shit when no one else did. Taught me all I know. How to hunt, how to fight, how to be a man.”

None of those things made Daryl a man anymore than a ball cap made someone a player for the Chicago Cubs.

“He said to jump, an’ I said how high. So when he tol’ me we needed to leave, I left. I was gonna come back, but when I did, you were gone, an’ I--” He shrugged his shoulders then leaned his hands on the countertop, sniffing again. “I tol’ myself you were better off wi’out me.”

He turned, and his cheeks were red, with tears running down them as he refused to look you in the eye.

He shook his head. “But I can’t leave ya again. Even if it ain’t gonna be like it was then. I love ya, Y/N, an’ as wrong as it is, I love this shitty world for bringin’ ya back to me. But--”

You closed the distance between you, stopping his words as you cupped his jaw and lifted his head so he’d look at you.

“I don’t care anymore,” you told him. “I thought I still did, but I don’t. What matters is now. I love you, too. Never stopped.”

Daryl pried your hands from his face, and he leaned forward, resting his forehead on yours. “Lemme make it righ’ then. Lemme show ya I ain’t gonna leave again.”

“Okay,” you whispered and kissed him. 

===

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[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Sorry ya’ll, had to reformat and re-post the new one shot because tumblr’s posting mechanics updates royally fucked my formatting. But APPARENTLY it’s impossible to fix without recoding the whole thing in html... *insert extra annoyance here* Find it linked below!

The Regulars (brand new!) Words: 9,640  Daryl Dixon x Reader Era: Pre-apocalypse Summary: Based on watching your interactions, Daryl thinks you, a bartender at a local dive, may actually have a thing for his older brother Merle, but a series of events at the bar may begin to show him otherwise

[scribblesandimaginings]

Green-Eyed Idiot

Merle gets jealous when the reader interacts with other men so he finds ways to distract her

(Given it’s been so long since this blog has been active i’m really impressed by how many notes that it’s still getting so thank you very much everyone)

-----

None of this would have been allowed to happen if Merle hadn’t been allowed to go on a run by himself. You told Rick this several times. Merle managed to piss off almost everyone in the group by the time that you caught on to what he was doing.

Merle went a run by himself. He took the motorbike and a gun and headed for a supermarket that had been spotted on another run a few days before. He went without the metal prosthetic replacement for his hand, whining about it making it harder to ride the bike. He should only have been gone for three or four hours at the most.

You were worried sick. There had been something between you and Merle for a while now - something that nobody could put a name to, but it was certainly there. For the most part, people were just confused - they thought that you were just nice, and Merle just wanted to get you into bed. But it really wasn’t like that.

By the time that you heard Michonne calling that she could see Merle returning, nearly nine hours had passed since he left. You raced down to the gate, growling to yourself that you were going to kill him for taking so long - then you saw him.

“Shit, fuck” you breathed. Thank God there were no walkers about. You could just see him in the distance, walking along the road, pushing the bike. “I’m going to get him” you called to Michonne, pushing the gate open just wide enough for you to get out, grabbing the gun that was resting against the wall as you went.

You could hear her shouting not to go, but you weren’t listening. Keeping an eye out for walkers, you jogged along the road to Merle. He saw you coming and started to slow down, nearly coming to a stop. You cursed at him in your head - you wouldn’t take as long to get to him if he just kept moving. As you eventually got closer you could see he was limping, there was blood on his trousers and top, and you reckoned it was probably his. He was hunched over, pushing the bike with his one hand and his forearm, his teeth clenched in pain.

“What the Hell happened?”

“Good t’ see ya too” he grunted.

You took the handlebars from him, holding up the bike. It didn’t look too damaged, just a little more scratched up than usual, “What happened?”

“Came off the bike, ‘s all - still managed t’ pick up some stuff” he gestured to the rucksack swung over his shoulder.

“How badly are you hurt?”

He shook his head, “Leg’s fucked, so’s my back - couldn’t turn the damn thing” he glared at the bike.

You nodded, looking him up and down, “Does the bike still run?” he nodded, “Good” You swung your leg over and sat forward, “Come on”

He made one Hell of a face, “I ain’t riding bitch”

“Yes you are, get on”

He grunted, but accepted his fate, climbing onto the bike behind you and wrapping his arms around your middle, “Ya better not fuck up ma bike”

“No more than you already have today” you quipped.

He didn’t have a reply for once. He tried to sit up, all proud and strong, but it only took moments for him to slump forward against your back. He head was bowed against your shoulder, his arms only holding on just tight enough to stop him from falling off. He was exhausted. You could feel every harsh breath he took, the way his chest rose and fell against your back. Merle was a proud man, but he knew when he was beat.

As you got closer to home, he straightened up again - making sure no-one saw him wrapped around you like that. Because he wasn’t ‘soft or nothin’. Michonne opened the gate for you and you parked up, kicking down the stand only to wait and watch Merle as he slowly got off. Once he was up and leaning against a wall, you stepped off.

“I’ll take the bike to the workshop, see if anyone can give it a look over - you go get the doctor” you said. He huffed but went on his way.

-----

Merle had a fair amount of bruising and he’d pulled a few muscles, but he was going to be fine. He’d been prescribed rest and told he’d heal soon enough if he avoided straining himself.

You agreed to help him out with stuff, he couldn’t bend over properly, so he was going to need a little assistance from time to time. He didn’t like that, or, at least, he acted as if he didn’t. In truth he quite enjoyed the thought of having you hanging around.

Merle was determined that he was fine. He insisted he wasn’t in pain, he could manage by himself - but he only persisted with that so much. As soon as you offered your help, he would relent. But, with time, you could actually see him healing, and bit by bit you stepped back.

Which was fine. Until Merle decided it wasn’t.

Having had your company and assistance everyday for the last couple of weeks, seeing you laughing with the others, particularly the other men, sent pangs of jealousy through his heart. Merle was the kind of guy who would never admit to being jealous, he hated to even admit it to himself. To be honest, he didn’t like admitting any of his feelings to himself, his pain, his sadness, his anxiety... his jealousy... his incredibly strong feelings for you...

Merle didn’t intend to let you know he had ‘feelings’ for you. That wasn’t what he wanted. He just wanted you to be spending more time with him again. And he was pretty sure he’d figured out how to do that.

It was a few days later when you noticed Merle limping again. You’d been talking with Rick, “Hey, sorry Rick, excuse me - I’ll catch you later” 

You made your way over to Merle, waving as you went to catch his eye, “Hey, are you okay?” 

“Who me?” Merle smirked as you as you stopped in front of him, “What you so worried about little old me for?” 

“You’re limping again, I thought your leg was nearly better?” 

“Yeah,” he sighed, “I thought it was, but it doesn’t seem like it’s gonna stop giving me grief. Ah it’s not so bad, I’ll manage” 

“No, maybe you should sit down? I wouldn’t want it to get worse again”

He gave a sigh but shrugged, “Well if you insist”

“Have you had lunch?’

“Not yet”

“Come on, I’ll make us something”

You didn’t see the grin on Merle’s face as you turned to give Rick a wave, letting him know you were off.

The same sort of thing happened again and again over the next week - whenever you were talking to another guy, Merle would somehow show up, either his leg or his back causing him bother. And you were always ready to help. At first nobody thought much of it, except that you were still being too nice, but then, they started to get suspicious - Merle would be fine when you weren’t around, then suddenly as soon as he saw you, he seemed to be in pain again, in fact, even if you were around the other women, he’d seem fine.

Rick and the others asked you how Merle was doing, commenting that it was odd that he seemed to get better then worse again. But you thought nothing of it, muscles were weird, stuff like that happened. But you were the only one who thought so.

After a week, you still thought nothing of it. But after two weeks you were getting concerned, wondering why this didn’t seem to be healing. After three weeks, with the scepticism from everyone else, you were beginning to wonder yourself. It had been nearly four weeks, and you were starting to see cracks in the facade. 

You were sleepy, you’d been up late the night before and the little sleep you’d gotten hadn’t rested you very well. You were sitting under a tree, reading a book and trying to relax for once - then Merle walked past. For the first time in four weeks, that you’d seen, he wasn’t limping.

“Hey Merle” you called. You saw him jump, obviously not expecting you to be there, “hey”

“Well hey there, Princess, what you doing hiding about here?”

“Taking some time off” You got to your feet, watching him walk to you.

“Can’t say much to that”

You waited a moment, waiting to see if he was going to say anything else, “See you’re leg is better”

He blushed, “Uh yeah, seems to be doing alright today”

“That’s good - hopefully that’ll be it all better now”

“Uh, y-yeah” he scratched the back of his neck.

You folded your arms, waited a moment, “Merle?”

“...yeah?”

“Are you still hurt?”

Merle said nothing for a second, “uhh...”

You slapped his arm, “You asshole! I can’t believe you!”

“I’m sorry, I-”

“I have been so worried!”

“I didn’t m-”

“I’ve been exhausting myself worrying about you every day! I swear to God! I’m so angry”

“I’m sorry”

You took a moment, and a deep breath, “... you better be, seriously.”

“I am - I swear” Merle said quietly. He’d never expected you to react like this, he’d never wanted you to get hurt in any way.

You hated being angry at Merle, but, at the end of the day, Merle was Merle - and Merle occasionally made people angry. You gave a harsh sigh, “I don’t know if you’ve actually realised this but I do in fact care about you, Merle!” You turned your head away, trying to hide the tears that were forming in the corners of your eyes.

Merle stepped closer, gently putting a hand on your arm, “Didn’t mean to make you cry”

“I’m not crying” you mumbled.

“Yeah, yeah. Didn’t think you’d worry so much about me”

You glanced up at him, “Why would you think that? I worry about you literally every day”

“Didn’t think you cared so much” he tried to joke, but he couldn’t even convince himself.

You shook your head, “What was the point? Pretending to be hurt? You’ve still been doing just as much as you would have done anyway - nobody is giving you any sympathy; nobody but me...”

“Wasn’t about sympathy” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck and stepping round in a little circle, “didn’t want any sympathy”

You rubbed your eyes, “So why bother?”

You could almost see the words on the tip of his tongue as he took long seconds to say, “I just wanted you around”

“What?”

He gave you an awkward smile, “Ya know, just, it was really... nice, having you around all the time, and I... missed that... and... I was kinda... jealous”

“... really?”

“Really”

You laughed, shook your head, and laughed again, “I love you Merle but you’re so fucking stupid” 

He laughed, nodding, “Okay, but go back to that first bit?” 

You wrapped your arms around him, relaxing and taking a long deep breath, “I love you Merle” 

“I love you too” 

“But you are so so very stupid”

[constantcrisis19]

The Walking Dead Masterlist

Daryl Dixon x GN S/O

Come A Little Closer

Olive Branches

Break Walls, Build Bridges

Live With No Regrets

Deck The Halls

Stay With Me - Part 1, Part 2

Dixon Brothers x GN S/O

When A Man Is In Love

Taking A Break

Bottled Up

How To Save A Life

Dixon Brothers & Children

Dead Men Tell No Tales

You’re The Best Parts Of Me

[sl-ut]

brutal

CHAPTER ONE

pairing: glenn rhee x reader, oc!alexander x reader (siblings), various x reader

description: after visiting her brother just outside of atlanta, nineteen-year-old y/n ends up in a survival camps with a handful of others. a new arrival at camp brings a whole lot of drama.

warnings: violence, merle being merle (bleh), swearing

words: 3K

date posted: 27/02/22

previous part | next part

Y/n shifted uncomfortably as she began to stir awake, hissing in discomfort as the scratchy surface of the sleeping bag chafed against her dry, angry red skin. Her eyes slowly blinked open, groaning as her fingertips trailed over the sunburnt flesh of her shoulders, cursing herself for deciding to sit out in the hot Georgian sun for so long in just a tanktop and shorts, especially considering how unaccustomed she was to it.

Turning her head, she found the sleeping bag adjacent to her own laying empty and dishevelled on the floor. Y/n could hear quite a bit of chatter from outside, and based on how warm it had become inside the tent, she quickly inferred that it was about mid-morning. She was not surprised to have woken up alone, as her brother had taken it upon himself to go into a full-on survival mode, making short runs to fill their water tanks, set up more safety provisions, and occasionally even just sit watch at the top of the hill overlooking the quarry. 

Forty days had passed since an army of the dead swarmed the streets of Atlanta, and they had seemingly been as kind to her as possible. She had not yet been eaten alive, nor was she off on her own in hopes of survival, as she imagined that many people would have been. In fact, Y/n considered herself to be quite fortunate to be accompanied by her older brother and about fifteen others who they had met while they were evacuating the city. The worst things that she had to complain about was a touch of heatstroke and a downsized wardrobe.

The group had come together fairly quickly. Though unelected, Shane took it upon himself to act as the leader of the settlement. He certainly was not a favourite of Y/n’s, but he seemed to be the most qualified of the few others who opposed him. They quickly became a community, foraging for food in the woods and frequently visiting the city to collect supplies, and even a few friendships were formed, though Y/n found herself remaining closest to her brother, with the exception of a few others.

Their time on the quarry had brought the siblings much closer than they had previously been pre-apocalypse. One thing is for sure, being forced into a small camp with dozens of strangers certainly forced relationships to strengthen. Truth be told, she and Alex hadn’t been very close since she was quite young, something that often came with a twelve year age difference in siblings. It had come as quite a shock to both Y/n and her mother when he had reached out and invited her to visit him in Atlanta for the summer, and the first few days had been extremely awkward, though genuine care for one another brought them to protect each other when necessary, whether it be from walkers or their fellow survivors.

After tugging a baggy long-sleeved tee over her sports bra, Y/n crawled out of the small tent, squinting her eyes at the sudden intrusion of the sunlight. She frowned as she silently wished that she hadn’t left her Ray Bans at Alex’s apartment before they left for the city. Stumbling slightly as she crossed the small dirt path towards the centre of the encampment, she internally cringed as a large figure stepped into her line of sight, shoulders swaying intimidatingly.

“Well, hey there, sweet cheeks,” The gruff, slurring voice called out, “You always that red, or is it all just for little ol’ me?”

Despite the communal morale that had arisen amongst most of the group members, there were still a few who did not seem to play nice with others, namely Ed Peletier and Merle Dixon. Both men seemed to be cut from the same cloth; White, bigoted men who had no care for the lives of others. Y/n was only thankful that Merle had chosen to set up camp in the woods with his brother Daryl, and only made himself present at mealtimes. Ed, however, was a consistent problem for the others at camp, seemingly able to find whatever ways possible to antagonise whoever was in his path. Y/n stayed out of their way as often as possible, though it appeared that Merle had a special interest in the young woman, making an effort to always make some lewd remark, regardless of any threats made by her brother or the few she had made herself.

“Get lost, freak.”

Merle Dixon laughed obnoxiously as he turned to glance at his younger brother over his shoulder, “Hear that, lil’ brother? She’s got a mean streak. You know how I like ‘em feisty.”

“And young.” Y/n noted. “Guess I can add ‘predator’ onto the list of reasons why you’ll be the first to go if we ever resort to cannibalism.”

“Knew you been wantin’ a taste of me.” Merle stepped closer to the blonde, his hot breath wafting in her face as he inhaled harshly, his scowl lifting into his trademark smirk as he spoke, “Hmm, don’t worry, Peaches, you’ll get your chance.”

Merle pushed past her with a guffaw, swaggering off towards Dale’s RV as he slung his rifle over her shoulder. Y/n shivered to rid herself of the man’s lingering stench, arms wrapping around herself tightly. She turned her gaze to meet that of Daryl, who remained rooted in his spot, eyeing the young girl with his usual glare.

“What?” She barked at the man, “You gonna give it a go, too?”

Daryl squinted, hesitating before speaking in his deep, gravelly tone, “Nah. Ain’t no pedo.”

The young girl huffed as she turned to head in the opposite direction that Merle had gone in, “Yeah, whatever.”

She soon found herself perched on the edge of the quarry, kneeling over to inspect her reflection in the water’s surface. She sighed as she took in the puffiness of her cheeks, only enhanced even more by the dark bags beneath her eyes. Carefully, she scooped up a handful of water and massaged it into her skin. The water felt cool on her skin, soothing the burn that had brought her such discomfort for the past few days.

“Hey, you okay?” Glenn Rhee squatted down beside the girl, “I, uh, I saw you with Daryl a few minutes ago. He didn’t do anything, did he? Or try to?”

Y/n leaned back from the water as she turned to inspect the concerned look on the young man’s face, “No, Daryl’s fine. Merle on the other hand…”

Glenn sighed, “Do you want me to do anything? I could tell your brother– or Shane.”

The girl laughed, “Merle’s probably got sixty pounds on Alex, and Shane’s not gonna do anything that’s not in his own self-interest. Besides, I can handle myself.”

“I know,” Glenn added quickly, “I didn’t mean to- I mean I would never try to tell you that you couldn’t.”

Y/n tilted her head at his continued rambling, resting a palm on his forearm to stop him, “Shit, Glenn, breathe. Your face is so red, I’m scared you might just pass out.”

He smiled lightly, his face darkening a few shades, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, I know you were just trying to help.” She smirked as an idea filled her head, “Hey, you know what would really help, though?”

He hummed, prompting her to go on, “Some sunscreen. Maybe some aloe vera if you can find any.

Oh, and I’d really kill for some gum or mints or something.”

“Should I get a pen?” He joked. “But yeah, I’ll definitely keep an eye out.”

Y/n smiled, “Thanks, Glenn, you’re the best.”

“Hey, Glenn!” Alexander’s booming voice hollered over the quarry, “Quit flirting with my sister and get your ass up here! We’re losing daylight.”

Glenn ducked his head in embarrassment as a few chuckles could be heard from the hill above, his eyes refusing to turn back to the younger girl’s face, “Oh God. I better go. See you later, Y/n. I mean, I might. Well, I definitely will, I’m not gonna die or anything, so–”

“Bye, Glenn.” Y/n giggled at him, enjoying how easily he became so flustered.

“Bye.”

Glenn’s footsteps were not even out of hearing distance when a small white laundry basket dropped at Y/n’s side. The girl glanced up, moving her hand to shield her eyes as she stared up at the intruder.

“Oh my God, that was so painful.” Amy Harrison slipped into a sitting position on Y/n’s other side, immediately beginning to soak and scrub at a blue t-shirt, “Seriously, could he be any more obvious?”

“Good morning, Amy.” Y/n pursed her lips, “I’m great, thanks for asking. Now, what are you talking about?”

The older girl dropped the shirt and turned to stare at Y/n with narrowed eyes, “Come on now, Y/n, you’re young, but you’re definitely not stupid. I’m talking about Glenn, and his obvious heart eyes for you.”

Y/n scoffed, rolling her eyes. This was not the first time that someone had brought up this topic.

First it was Lori, who had teased Y/n when Glenn had so thoughtfully decided to offer the young girl his cap so that her face would be a bit more protected from the sun. Then, her brother had confronted her early one evening after spending the afternoon with the boy, who claimed that he hadn’t ever been so tired of hearing his own sister’s name. Soon enough, any and all of their interactions had brought on some sort of teasing from one of their fellow survivors. Y/n certainly wasn’t blind to it. In fact, she was certain that she had been the first to notice, but rarely, if ever, responded to him in a way that she would consider flirty.

“I just might be, because I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about.” The teenager shrugged as she pulled another shirt from the basket and dipped it into the water.

“Oh, Y/n,” Amy mocked, “I’ll see you later, and we can go makeout and repopulate the earth–”

“Amy!” Y/n shrieked as she whipped the sopping fabric at the older girl, “Don’t be disgusting, you’re like, one of the only people here that I can tolerate.”

Amy snorted, “Yeah, me, your brother, and your boyfriend. Come on, are you seriously telling me that you feel nothing for him? Because if you are, you’re killing any hope that I had left for humanity.”

For once, Y/n was grateful for the damaged skin of her face, as it disguised the crimson blush that had risen in her cheeks.

“It doesn’t matter, he’s too old for me, anyway.”

“He’s only twenty-two! Y/n, you’re nineteen. There’s literally only three years between you.”

“And? I’m technically still a teenager, and I’m sure that he’s looking for someone more mature.”

“Have you met Glenn? Besides, I’m twenty-four, so does that make it weird that we’re friends?”

“No, but you’re not the one that I would be ‘repopulating the earth’ with.”

“Ha!” Amy turned to her abruptly, “So you’re admitting it! You so wanna repopulate the earth with him!”

“Who’s repopulating the earth with who?” Lori Grimes smirked as the two girls turned to face her, hands on her hips as she raised her brows to prompt a response.

“No one.” Y/n demanded, glaring at the blonde girl next to her, who had erupted into a fit of giggles, “No one is doing anything with anyone.”

“Y/n and Glenn.” Amy gushed, flinching away as Y/n swung a fist to land against her arm with a stinging blow.

Lori chortled, “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. That boy is some sweet on you.”

“Oh my God,” Y/n lowered her head into her hands as the two older women continued to taunt her, pulling herself to her feet, “Finish your own damn laundry.”

By mid-afternoon, Y/n could already feel her face beginning to break out from stress. Dale’s radio had been crackling all afternoon, first an unintelligible message from a disembodied voice, then a broken message from their own people. The second message was quite staticky, though a few words were audible, including trapped and department store. Y/n could only picture their fellow survivors being packed into a store, being watched by walkers through the glass like animals at a zoo, only the viewers were eagerly awaiting the opportunity to tear the flesh from their bones.

“He said department store.” Lori stated as a crowd had formed around the RV, hoping for Dale to decrypt whatever T-Dog had said.

“I heard it too.” He answered.

“Shane?”

The deputy frowned, “No, no way. We do not go after them, we do not risk the group. Y’all know that.”

“So we’re just gonna leave her there?” Amy pressed, referencing her older sister, Andrea, who had volunteered to go with the group to the city.

“Look, Amy, I know this is not easy...”

Amy scowled at him, “She volunteered to go to help the rest of us.”

“I know, and she knew the risks, right? See, if she's trapped, she's gone. So we just have to deal with that. There's nothing we can do.”

The blonde girl frowned, brows dipping low on her forehead at his words, “That’s my sister, you son of a bitch.”

“Amy,” Lori paused to glare at Shane before jogging after Amy, who had stormed off to her own tent.

Shane rested his hands on his hips, shifting his weight as he sighed. Y/n turned her glare onto him, quickly gaining his attention.

“Got something to say to me, Y/n?”

“Yeah, a few things, actually.”

“Go on, then.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, inhaling deeply before she began, “I know you’re taking this time to play family with Lori and Carl, but some of us have our actual families here that we’ve gotta take care of. While you’re up here acting all high and mighty, my brother is over there in that city, trapped in a department store, and you think it’s best to just let him die? Let Andrea and Glenn die? What about Morales’s family, or Jacqui and T-Dog? Hell, even Merle Dixon doesn’t deserve to die like that.”

“You might wanna watch your tone, missy.” Shane licked his lower lip irritatedly, “And since when do you care about what happens to Merle Dixon? I don’t remember you two ever gettin’ close.”

“And I don’t remember electing you leader. Merle Dixon could fall down ten flights of stairs and bust his head open, I’d be fine with that. But no one deserves to be eaten alive, especially when I know that whatever happens to him down there, is gonna happen to my brother, too.”

With that, Y/n shoved past him, following the path made by Amy and Lori and ignoring as he shouted after her. Her eyes began to well with tears, and the moment that she was granted the privacy of her own tent, she finally allowed them to fall.

Y/n stayed there for hours, curled into her sleeping bag as she silently wept until loud sirens began to reach her ears. Stumbling out of the tent for the second time that day, she found herself reaching the centre of camp just in time to watch a bright red mustang pull in, the siren blaring over the shouting of the campers, alarmed by the intrusion. The car jerked as it was parked, a grinning Glenn rising out of the driver's seat. Y/n felt her body vibrate with relief; Glenn was okay, alive, and unscathed, and it seemed much more likely that Alex was too.

The alarm cut off as Shane unhooked the battery, immediately turning to scold the younger man for bringing such an attraction to the camp as Amy began rapidly asking him questions about the others, particularly her sister.

A cube van pulled up behind the red car, and Andrea was the first to round the back of it, sprinting to tearfully reunite with her sister as they sobbed each other's names. Finally, when Alexander leapt out of the van, Y/n let out a sob disguised as a laugh, rushing forward to latch onto him.

“Whoa, Y/n.” Alex squeezed her tightly, “You think I wasn’t coming back or something?”

She pulled back and slapped his shoulder with as much force as she could muster, “Don’t make a joke out of this, you dick! I seriously thought you were dead.”

Alex hugged his sister, heart clenching as her voice cracked, “I’m okay. You’re okay. We’re all okay, I promise.”

She nodded, gingerly wiping her eyes with the back of her hand as they pulled apart, “Hey, we’ve been over this. You and me against the world, or whatever is left of it.”

“How’d you guys get out of there? T-Dog said you were trapped.”

“We had some extra help.”

“Dad!” Carl Grimes sped past the siblings, leaping into the arms of a man in a deputy’s uniform, Lori close behind him.

Y/n furrowed her brows, as she had heard the story from Shane, Lori, and Carl respectively; How Rick Grimes was shot in the line of duty, induced into a comatose state, and died in the hospital shortly after the outbreak. And yet, the man knelt before her, gripping onto his son for dear life as they each wept. Lori was quick to join the reunion, though she did not go without hesitation. Y/n glanced over at Shane, who watched idly with raised brows, an expression that she could not quite decipher, though it appeared to be one of either disbelief or annoyance.

“Come on,” Y/n tugged on her brother’s arm, “Let’s give them some privacy.”

MY WORK IS, UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCE, TO BE REPOSTED OR SHARED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION. I HAVE NEVER GIVEN CONSENT TO MY WORK BEING SHARED, SO IF YOU SEE ANOTHER ACCOUNT POSTING MY CONTENT PLS LET ME KNOW.

[ficnation]

Chapter 2: Not Alone Anymore

Series: Way Down We Go // Season 1

Word count: 4,1k+

Pairing: Rick Grimes x Female! Reader; Shane Walsh x Reader

Warnings: usual twd themes (e.g. descriptive gore, death, use of weapons, violence, cursing)

A/n: Finally, after months of not writing anything at all, I finished this chapter. Sorry for any mistakes I've made. Lots of love, and please let me know in the comments what you think <3

*my own aesthetic* // *twd universe doesn’t belong to me, but the original characters do*

𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐖𝐄 𝐆𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 || 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑

You were sitting on the bed beside a closed window of the small trailer that immensely reminded you of your fucked up childhood. The cigarette between your fingers did nothing to cease your anxiety and the guilt bubbling in your stomach. You exhaled deeply, letting the smoke swirl out of your system and create a foggy cloud above your head. A hand slid down the window made of thick plastic that was supposed to imitate glass, and you didn’t even flinch at the annoying squeak and hungry groans of the undead.

“Oh fuck you, Angela, you’ve always been a cunt. No wonder you’re haunting me even after your death.” You scoffed at the older woman, turning around and sitting on your knees to look her dead in the foggy eyes. One side of her face was pressed flatly to the window, and you couldn’t help but flinch when her exposed teeth scraped over the plastic surface.

She didn’t look like the woman you once knew. Her skin had a greyish color and was slowly starting to rot. The pearly white teeth she once sported were now yellow, and some of them fell out while she was trying to bite a hole through the plastic window of the trailer. The only thing that stayed the same was the silver necklace clinging to her neck. It was a gift from Ally, her drug-addicted son that you dated for a few months in high school. 

He was a nice boy, kind and funny but everyone knew that your relationship wouldn’t last long. You had fun and lived life like there was no tomorrow, but there was a significant difference between you. Ally didn’t have any plans for the future; he lived every day like it was his last, and he never planned on leaving the corrupted trailer park.

You were complete opposites in this aspect; you wanted to be someone. You didn’t want to stay there, work a shitty job that barely paid you anything, and raise five kids by yourself because your trashy husband was too high to function like a normal human being.

There weren’t any hard feelings left behind when you parted ways. At least not between you and Ally. His mother was a different story; she was ready for the wedding and looking after her grandkids that you were supposed to push out of your uterus while her son smoked a joint in the hospital’s waiting room. She sent you dirty looks when you passed her on the street and often threw mean comments to accompany her hatred-filled glares, and there was nothing you could do about it. You even punched her in the face once when her remarks got too personal. After that incident, she called the cops on you, but luckily Ally convinced his mother to withdraw her accusations.

“Karma is a funny gal,” you whispered under your breath before turning away from the window, throwing your cigarette on the floor, and stomping it out with your combat boot.

You got up from the squeaky mattress and shouldered the rifle you found behind the fridge in the tiny kitchen. You didn’t know why it was still there. Were your brothers in such a rush that they couldn’t even take it with them? Did those flesh-craving creatures surround them and force them to run?

A loud bang sounded outside, making you tense up, but before you could freeze in one place, your instincts kicked in, and you gripped the rifle in your hands, aiming it on the locked door of the small trailer. For all you knew, it could be a stray biter that bumped into a dumpster or a living and breathing person. You couldn’t decide which option was supposed to reassure you. 

The undead were easy to deal with; you just had to remember to aim for the brain. It’s already been two days since you were left standing in the alley behind the bank, all alone and vulnerable; after that moment, you had learned to deal with those monsters. It was terrifying at first when you didn’t have any weapons besides the pocket knife in your boot. You had to avoid running into places where the biters grew into larger groups. There was no way you could’ve taken them down by yourself with your pathetic little knife.

You strained your ears to hear if any sounds followed the loud bang, and for a second, there was just silence and faint shuffling when Angela started dragging herself away from the trailer and towards the noise. You listened to her growls before a thought popped into your head. The necklace, you couldn’t let her leave with it. 

“I’m definitely gonna regret this,” you mumbled to yourself before banging your fist on the door of the trailer.

The shuffling stopped for a moment before Angela’s very much alive corpse threw itself at the door, chipped nails pawing at the plastic surface and loud growls emitting from her mouth.

You hesitated, taking a deep breath and popping the lock. The door instantly slammed open, and you stood face to face with what was left of Angela.

“I’m sorry,” you huffed out before a shot rang through the air.

But it wasn’t your rifle nor your bullet that lodged itself into the creature’s head. You felt like your heart was going to explode any second. The corpse, now lifeless, fell to the dirty floor of the trailer. Your brain played the scene in slow-motion, trying to comprehend what has happened right in front of your eyes. 

“Damn, Baby, it took ya a while to get ‘ere.” 

Your head shot up at the familiar voice, your orbs locking with the pale blue color of his irises.

“Merle!”

Before he could react, you threw yourself at him, arms enveloping him in a tight embrace. Your older brother tangled his hand in your messy hair with a relieved laugh, holding your head close to his chest, the other hand clutching your jacket securely. He couldn’t believe his eyes. How long has it been since the last time he saw you? It must have been at least four years, but he had to admit his memory was quite hazy.

You pulled away rather quickly, taking his face in between your palms and searching for any bruises marking his skin, an old habit that you could never get rid of, not even after your father’s demise. 

“Ya don’t hafta do tha’ no more,” he said, eyes concerned but a cheeky grin on his face. He took your hands in his larger ones and patted them before moving away. “The geeks gonna catch up soon. We should leave while we still have time.”

“Where’s Daryl?” You looked behind Merle, trying to spot if your younger brother was hiding anywhere, too mad at you to even say hi.

“Stayed behind. Now c’mon, sis, we hafta get the hell outta ‘ere.” Without further explanation, he pushed you towards the door.

“Wait!” you protested, remembering why you invited Angela’s walking corpse into the trailer in the first place. 

You stepped towards the body lying on the rubber flooring and crouched down next to it. Angela’s face was facing the floor, saving you from seeing her lifeless eyes that lost their shine the moment she turned into this monster. Your hands delicately brushed her grey hair away from the nape of her neck, careful not to touch her skin. Just being in such close proximity to her corpse made your head spin. She smelled dead, very dead. 

“Whatcha doin’ kid?” Merle bent over you, hands placed on his knees to keep some stability and not fall over the dead body. That’d be tragic, but seeing how many lines of cocaine he had snorted a few hours ago, it was also very possible. “Damn, doesn’t she smell jus’ like daisies,” he mocked, an uncontrollable hoarse giggle escaping his lungs.

You couldn’t help but shake your head and snicker at his words. He hadn’t changed a bit since the last time you talked, which was also the time he called you asking for bail money. You didn’t even show up to pick him up, choosing instead to send your lawyer over to get him out of jail. You had to admit it wasn’t one of your brightest ideas, and he ended up making her very uncomfortable. Especially by calling her a “pencil skirt slut”. You had to pay her extra for the trouble.

“If you really think that daisies smell like a rottin’ dead body, then I’m afraid it’s too late to save you.” 

“Nice to see ya haven’t lost yer wit.”

Your head was going to start hurting if you kept shaking it every time Merle decided to open his mouth, so you chose to focus on the task at hand and unclasp Angela’s necklace.

“Shake a leg, will ya?” Your older brother straightened up, popping his back with a satisfied groan before he moved towards the kitchen, probably remembering where he stashed some of his drugs.

You finally managed to get the jewelry off the dead woman and took a moment to admire it despite the tiny chunks of flesh that got tangled up in it. It was very delicate, with a small tear pedant that sparkled when it caught the light streaming through the open door. You had to admit that Ally knew his way around gifts. 

“Merle, I’m done!” you yelled loud enough for him to hear you from one of the rooms. “Let’s get out of here!” 

You hoped he didn’t bail, even if you did deserve it. But your brothers weren’t like you, right? They wouldn’t just leave their kin behind like you did, so you had nothing to fear.

“I’m comin’!” Merle responded just as loud, making your worries disappear.

Damn, he didn’t care that you left them back in the day, even if you cut all contact with them. He was salty about it sometimes when he drank too much, but other than that, he did understand you. It was shocking even for Daryl, who held a lot of hatred towards you after you left, unlike his older brother. He was mad that you didn’t take him with you, even though you proposed it at least ten times, furious that you didn’t keep calling him even though he rejected every call. He knew it was mostly his fault that you stopped trying, but it didn’t prevent him from feeling hurt. 

Merle swaggered back into the room, and your frown immediately turned into a bright grin. “Ya done plunderin’ corpses now?”

“Yeah,” you replied shortly, nodding and getting back on your feet. You dusted yourself off before tucking the necklace into the pocket of your dirty jeans.

You were so casual about the whole situation; it was like the apocalypse didn’t even touch you in the slightest. It bothered Merle immensely; he couldn’t help but wonder where the little girl afraid of stepping foot in the graveyard was? You were different, and it was weird that he hadn’t noticed it at first.

“C’mon then. Don’t forget yer rifle. Daryl left it for ya ‘ere.” His words made you smile a little. You were pleasantly surprised by your younger brother’s gesture.

“How did you know I’ll come back here?”

“Jus’ a feelin’.” He winked at you before swaggering away and out of the trailer without looking back at it for even a mere second.

You trailed behind him, grabbing your bag and shouldering your rifle yet again. Leaving that trailer behind was cathartic; it made you feel free, and at that moment, you decided that it was the best feeling in the world.

The two of you broke into one of the abandoned cars sitting on the outskirts of the trailer park, and you hotwired it, saving Merle the trouble and embarrassment. You had no idea where he was taking you. You thought that he and Daryl decided to stay at one of the trailers further away from the park’s center. It seemed safer than the one you lived in most of your childhood. 

To your surprise, Merle jumped into the driver’s seat and drove you out of the trailer park, and headed southeast towards Yonah Preserve Trail, but before you could reach it, he stopped the car. You rolled down the window on your side and stuck your head outside in curiosity. 

The lake stretched for long miles, disappearing beyond the horizon where your eyes couldn’t reach. The glorious greenery of the forest surrounded it, reflecting in the sheet of clear water. Everything there seemed so peaceful, almost as if it dodged the vice-like grasp of the apocalypse. In fact, on the drive there, you counted only six geeks, no more, no less.

“You set up camp near Turner Reservoir? That’s pretty damn smart.” You nodded your head in respect, grasping the strap of the rifle that laid across your lap.

“Ya can already guess whose idea it was.” Merle chuckled under his nose, getting out of the car and slamming the door behind himself ungracefully. You followed in his footsteps taking your few belongings with you and jumping out of the vehicle.

You walked into the woods, trekking for ten minutes before an army green tent emerged from between the trees. You halted in your steps, feet heavy as if glued to the litter. Merle turned in your direction, confused when he noticed that you stopped in one place.

“Wha’s wrong, Baby?” he asked, furrowing his greying eyebrows. He looked at your face for a few minutes before a realization hit him. “For fuck’s sake, don’ chicken out on me.”

“He won’t like that I’m back,” you protested stubbornly, ready to turn around, leave and not look back. 

Goddammit, you really were a coward, fleeing away from the consequences of your little run away to Atlanta like it was your biggest sin. You shouldn’t be afraid of the confrontation with Daryl because there was no way to change the past now. You’d just have to deal with the pain his words were going to cause; you knew you could survive it. 

“Yer damn right!”

Your head whipped around in the new voice’s direction. Speak of the devil, and he’s sure to appear, you thought when Daryl’s figure emerged from the trees. He looked different, grown-up, and much more grumpy. It’s been more than ten years since you last saw each other. Daryl wouldn’t have recognized you at all if he didn’t overhear your conversation with Merle. He didn’t even want to hear about you when Merle came back from his “visits” to Atlanta.

“Daryl,” you mumbled out his name in disbelief. You wanted to hug him so badly, but you knew that he wouldn’t let you. His grudge towards you ran deep, and physical contact wouldn’t make it any better; it would just anger him more. “You look different.”

Daryl only scowled at you before side-stepping you and walking away towards the camp. You grabbed his wrist quickly, head spinning to find something to say while your younger brother whipped around, forcing his hand out of your grip and almost growling at you. 

“Daryl, you have to understand me. I couldn’t just stay there my whole fucking life!” you argued, hands tangling in your messy hair and almost ripping it out. You were angry beyond words, at him, at his stupid coldness towards your person, and at the whole world for letting him act like that. Couldn’t a cone fall from a nearby tree and slap that stupid scowl off his face? Was it too much to ask for?

“Naw, yer done explainin’.” His voice was sharp, and his blue eyes almost froze you on the spot. He didn’t want to hear a single word out of your mouth. 

Merle leaned on one of the nearby trees, observing the brewing storm between his younger siblings, uninterested. It was funny to him how stubborn both of you were acting, unwilling to try talking it out. He thought the argument was pointless, especially considering that the dead just started walking, and you were acting like little kids about something that happened more than ten years ago. He immediately decided that the best option was to let you both fight it out and intervene only if it was absolutely necessary.

“That’s funny ‘cause I don’t remember even gettin’ a chance to explain.” You met his gaze, voice unwavering despite your whole body trembling from the overwhelming emotions.

“Yer the one tha’ left!” Daryl yelled out in retaliation, clenching his hands into fists before he stepped towards you to show you he wasn’t intimidated by you at all. He wanted to make you feel like a helpless child, but you weren’t going down, not even in his dreams.

“You’re acting so high and mighty now, huh? You were supposed to go with me but you chickened out and decided to follow Merle around like a lost puppy instead.” 

“I didn’t leave my kin like ya did,” he raised his voice at you, even more, making you wince when his hand shot up in the air to gesticulate wildly. For a moment, you had to remind yourself that your father was long dead, and Daryl, though hot-headed, was nothing like him; otherwise, you would already be cowering.

“’m too sober for this,” Mere grumbled out, making Daryl and your heads whip around simultaneously to send him a “get lost” look. So he strolled away towards the makeshift camp, rolling his eyes, probably already planning to get high and drown out all the noise you were making. It was a miracle that the undead hadn’t heard you.

“Yeah? How ‘bout Merle? Did you already forget how he left us behind to go serve in the army?” you tried to reason with him, and just when he wavered, and you thought you won this round, he opened his mouth to talk.

“Tha’ was different.”

“Because he came back? Is that it?” You started laughing like a maniac, making Daryl shiver unconsciously. Something sinister flashed in your eyes, but it was gone before he could recognize it. It made him nervous, but he was too stubborn to back off. 

When your laughter stopped, you threw your arms in the air in resignation with yet another scowl. “Here I am. I came back, are you happy now?” The words barely left your mouth, and you were already walking away, swearing under your breath. 

“Yeah, walk away why dontcha? Tha’s the only thang yer good at,” he mumbled out, following close behind just to spite you.

You spent the rest of the day trying to avoid Daryl at all costs, but he kept getting on your nerves and shoving your shoulder when passing by. Merle was amused by the whole situation and often received glares from both of you for bursting into laughter.

He inhaled the nicotine before puffing out a cloud of thick smoke into the brisk night air, chuckling under his nose when he saw Daryl stare at the back of your head in absolute silence. He reminded him of an angry kid outraged that his mom didn’t want to buy him ice cream. 

“Whatcha laughin’ at, dickhead?” you asked, plopping onto the dirt next to him with a huff. 

The night summer breeze washed over your bare shoulders all the way down to the tips of your fingers, making shivers run down your spine, and annoying goosebumps break out all over your skin. You outstretched your arms towards the bonfire to warm them up a little bit. Merle shrugged, handing you the cigarette with another chuckle.

“Nothin’, Baby.”

You furrowed your eyebrows and accepted the smoke. “I have a name you know,” you tried to sound mad, but the tiny smile on your face exposed your fondness for the silly nickname.

“Yeah? Like what?” His lips curved into a teasing grin before a string of atrocious names that seemed ridiculous when pinned to your face and personality left his lips. You snorted twice by the time he finished reciting them. Merle stopped for a second to take the cigarette from between your fingers before speaking up again, “Better tell yer old brother what the hell were ya up to in Atlanta.”

“If we’re bein’ completely honest, not much. Same old shit, just a change of scenery.” Your vague response didn’t seem to discourage Merle from digging deeper into your history in the big city.

“Naw, that,” he started, pointing his finger at you in a manner that warned you that he knew everything you tried to hide from him, “I don’ believe. I know mah little sistah like the back of mah hand.” Merle threw his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer with a deep chuckle. "Have the same damn blood runnin' thru our veins." You threw his arm off with an exasperated huff.

You hesitated, looking around to ensure that Daryl was nowhere to be found before you tried to decide if telling Merle about your “career” would be a good idea. He was your older brother, the same one that used to listen to your teenage ramblings about dating and then give you poor advice that you usually ignored altogether. You trusted him once, so why was it so difficult to do now?

“Seriously, Merle?” you asked when he poked you in the arm with his finger to rush you into answering. You couldn’t help but quirk an eyebrow at his childish behavior. You caught his finger in a tight grip and twisted, making your older brother wince and mutter a quick apology.

“When did ya get so strong?” 

You left his hand alone with a sigh. “I wish I could ask you when did you get so annoyin’, but I guess you’ve always been like that.”

“Oh, I missed this!” Merle threw his arm around your shoulder yet again. “It’s gonna be just like good ole days; just me, you, and Darylina. Campin’ in the woods and huntin’.” 

“‘s not gonna be like “good ole days.” Wake up, Merle,” Daryl’s voice came from behind your backs. “She ain’t a part of this family no more.”

You haven’t seen this coming, neither did Merle guessing by the frown on his face. You rolled your eyes in exasperation, but inside, you felt like your heart just cracked in half. It was a low blow, and it hit you right where it hurt the most.

“She ain’t family, and she’s never gonna be. I regret even leavin’ that rifle behind.” Every word coming out of his mouth made your brave facade crumble piece after piece. Who were you kidding? Not even a true masochist would be able to stand this kind of emotional torture. 

“Maybe I’m not,” you muttered, chin quivering in your attempts to drown the sobs that fought their way out of your lungs. Why did it have to hurt so much? Merle was ready to charge at Daryl for making his little sister so sad. He got up with a grunt and took a step towards the archer, flicking away the remnants of his cigarette. “Merle, it’s not worth it. Please, stop.” You caught his hand in your and tugged him back. You knew it wasn’t wise for the two of them to start fighting.

“‘m gettin’ tired of this crap, little brother,” he growled out, shaking away from your grip. “Corpses started walkin’ ‘round, and ya think ya have the right to decide who’s a part of the family and who ain’t?” 

“Why are ya defendin’ her?! Can’t ya get it through yer thick skull tha’ she didn’t want to have anythin’ to do with us after she left?” Daryl spat on the ground as if talking about you left a bitter taste in his mouth.

You’ve never felt as worthless and helpless in your life as in that moment. Your little brother hated your guts; your own flesh and blood didn’t want to have anything to do with you. You didn’t even dare to wonder what he’d think about you if you told him what you have exactly been up to in Atlanta and what awful shit you did to survive.

Merle and Daryl screamed at each other, getting angrier and angrier with every sentence, but you couldn’t even decipher their words. You just wanted to blurt everything out and be done with it. If they told you to leave, you’d do that and make sure never to step a foot near their camp again. Like an idiot, you listened to your panicked heart and not to your head.

“I killed seven people!” your shriek made both men freeze. Maybe you were a masochist, after all.

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[lacontroller1991]

Have You Seen My Shirt? (Daryl Dixon x Reader)

Anon Request: can u write a daryl smut where daryl walks around the camp shirtless with the intent of distracting the reader and sexual tensions arise between him and you

Warnings: Smut 18+, also Language, because Merle

He had to be doing it on purpose. Because normally Daryl Dixon would never remove his shirt in front of others. Then again, you were away from most of the group, opting to place your tent away from others so you wouldn’t be bothered by all of the drama.

“What’s the matter with ya boy, put on a damn shirt,” Merle yelled at Daryl as you shook your head with a smile etching it’s way on your face, turning back around and continuing on with the laundry. Washing your clothes, you hummed a small tune before he decided to pop up from behind him, cigarette in his mouth.

“Have ya seen my shirt?” He asked, blowing out a cloud of smoke, intentionally flexing his arm muscles while crossing them over his chest. Smirking, you stared at him.

“What shirt? I haven’t seen you wear a shirt around me in at least a week,” you retorted, turning around and rinsing off a pair of underwear, making sure he could see the red, lacy thong that you had somehow managed to keep in good shape despite it being the end of the apocalypse. Upon seeing the thong, his cheeks burned bright red as a hand went to scratch at the back of his neck. 

“Whatever,” he huffed out before walking away from you, leaving you to your thoughts about the redneck.

He still continued to walk around you without his shirt on, ignoring the constant remarks from his older brother who was insistent on making you and him uncomfortable.

“Come on boy, just fuck ‘er already. It’s pathetic,” Merle stated as you slowly crept up on the brothers, silently listening to them, wondering who Merle was talking about.

“She ain’t like tha’,” Daryl replied, taking a drag of his cigarette, wearing his flannel that had the sleeves torn off.

“Baby brother, ya so fuckin’ clueless, that bitch has eye sex wit’ ya all tha time.”

“Don’t call ‘er a bitch again. Ya hear?”

“Well, Darlia man up and take ‘er.” Scoffing, Daryl stormed off toward your tent as you tried to silently walk up on him to see what he was wanting.

“What’s up,” you spoke up, causing him to lightly jump, though he would probably deny it.

“Damn, girl. Sneak up on me again an’ it won’t be pretty for ya,” he replied as you rolled your eyes in annoyance.

“I highly doubt that, Darlina.”

“Wha’ you say to me?” His ears were burning as he stared at you who had a grin plastered on your face.

“Who’s the girl?” You asked innocently, secretly hoping it was you he was defending and not Andrea.

“Why does it matter to ya?”

“Just curious?” Shrugging your shoulders, you knotted your hands behind your back, wringing your fingers as he approached you as if you were prey.

“Ya gonna be the death of me,” he whispered before crashing his lips to yours. Melting into his kiss, you wrapped your arms around his neck, playing with the ends of his hair while his hands grasped your hips. Leading you into your tent, he fell backwards with you on top of him, not breaking the kiss. You slowly started to grind down on him, causing him to moan into the kiss. Breaking away, you quickly zipped the zipper to your tent shut before removing your top, leaving you in your bra. You saw his pupils dilate as he stared at your breasts while his hands returned to your hips, pulling you flush against him. Turning you over, he now leaned above you, leaving wet hot kisses down your neck while you clawed at his shirt.

“So did you really loose your shirt or were you just trying to impress me?” You asked between moans as he sucked on your sweet spot just below your ear.

“Shut up,” kissing you again, his hands roamed to cup your breasts while you pulled the hem of his shirt over his head, leaving him topless. Bucking your hips up into his, you felt his member against your inner thigh, causing him to groan at the slight touch. Dipping his head down, he trailed kisses between your breasts and onto your soft stomach, leaving you whimpering for him to touch you where you needed it most.

“Ya sure ya want this?” He asked, looking up to you as you smiled at him.

“Yes, get those pants off of me,” unbuttoning your pants, he pulled them down, taking your shoes off with your jeans, exposing your covered core to him. Pressing a soft kiss against your sensitive clit, he moaned, sending vibrations through your body.

“Oh my God, Daryl,” you moaned as he moved your panties to the side, lapping up your juices, tracing patterns against your clit with his tongue. Arching your back, you tugged at the strands of his hair and grinned up to his face as he continued to eat you out. You suddenly felt a small knot forming in you as your breathes grew more rapid.

“Don’t cum yet,” he commanded as he stood up, taking off his boots and pants, leaving him naked before he returned to you, leaving a bruising kiss as he stroked himself, collecting some of your juices to use as a lubricant. Slowly, he pushed his tip in, causing you both to groan. Pushing further into you, he hitched one of your legs up to his hip, allowing you to get accustomed to his size and allowing for better leverage.

“You can move,” you whispered as he nodded, taking himself not completely out before snapping his hips back into you at a steady pace. Slowly but surely, his thrusts got more erratic and your whimpering got more, you knew you both were close to coming. 

“Daryl, I’m going to cum,” nodding his head, he continued to thrust into you at a fast pace, bringing your end as waves crashed over you, “Daryl,” you moaned out as he continued to thrust into you, coaxing you through your high. He groaned as you walls clenched around him before quickly pulling out and jerked himself off before he released his load over your stomach with a moan. Collapsing next to you, he took your face in his hands, placing a soft kiss against your now bruised lips.

“That was amazing,” you stated out of breathe as he smiled in agreement.

“Yeah, it was. Won’t be last time either,” he replied as you laughed softly, nodding your head.

“Good, I’m glad.”

Author’s Note: Hope you enjoyed!

[crossbowking]

TWD GIF Challenge Masterlist

Here is the official Masterlist for my very first writing challenge!

Participants were sent a GIF with the character of their choosing, along with an original line of dialogue. Their job was to create a story based on that GIF (including the sentence prompt given to them).

I'm so incredibly proud of everyone who took part in this! There's honestly so much talent in this little community, I'm so honored to be a part of it.

Check out these awesome stories and be sure to show these authors lots of love!

xx Jess

(P.S. This challenge took place a while back and I don't think I received everyone's submissions, but here's what I was able to compile as of now! If you were involved in the challenge and haven't finished your story, absolutely no rush! Whenever you finish, be sure to tag me so I can add it to this Masterlist! If you did write it and don't see it on the list, please reach out so I can add it :D)

"Comparisons" (Daryl x Reader) - @puppypopcornpizza

"Made For It" (Daryl x Jesus) - @swallowedflashlight

"Welcome Home" (Merle x OC) - @stardust-walker

"Mind" (Tara x Reader) - @chaotic-gary-king-stan

"Right Here, Right Now" (Daryl x Reader) - @phoenixblack89

"New Family" (Father Figure!Daryl x Reader) - @chiliiscereal

"Brother's Keeper" (Daryl x Reader) - @rhyatt-deauxtreve

"Silent World" (Father Figure!Daryl x Reader) - @chiliiscereal

"Just Stay Tonight" (Daryl x GN/NB!Reader) - @pulplorrd

"We're Gonna Make It" (Daryl x Reader) - @unlockyourmind-wp

"I'm Not Here To Hurt You" (Daryl x OC) - @one-shot-plus-size

"Endgames And Enigmas" (Daryl x Beth) - @veecws

"Requited" (Shane x OC) - @sunflxwerbullet

"Walk Away" (Daryl x Reader) - @ladylibby

"Chance" (Daryl x Reader) - @kissofvenom922

“Talk To Me” (Daryl x Reader) - @ddixons-angel

[thatrandomwriter]

Rooftop Romance

merle x reader

warnings: swearing, gore, sexual language

“You sure he’s worth it?” T-Dog asked, skepticism written across his face.

“Him and Daryl are our best hunters. They may both share about three brain cells, and Merle is about the biggest asshole I’ve ever met-“

“Hey, fuck you,” Merle cut in. I ignored him.

“But the fact is we need them to survive. We’ll make it out of the city, but you need to go before the others leave without you,”

T-Dog looked conflicted, but after a few seconds he dashed out of the door, racing down the stairs. I pulled the door shut, locking it behind him. There was a strong chance that I had just ensured my own death as well as Merle’s. The sound of the dead beating on the door almost as soon as T-Dog had left seemed to give Merle the same idea.

“Well fucking come on then princess, I ain’t getting any younger over here.” He had that god awful smirk plastered across his face. “You know, there’s a lot I can do with these hands. Maybe I can show ya once I’m free,” he made a crude gesture with his cuffed hand.

“Maybe if you didn’t say shit like that all the time, someone might actually wanna fuck you. You’re disgusting, you know that?”

Instead of waiting for his no-doubt even worse reply, I walked over to see what had been left in Dale’s toolbox. It was mostly screwdrivers and spanners, nothing of any use to me, but I noted a hammer and most importantly a hacksaw. Hopefully it would be strong enough to get through the metal of Merle’s handcuff.

“Call me disgusting all ya like, everyone knows you want a piece of this,”

My cheeks grew hot and I fumbled the saw, almost dropping it as I walked over to him. It was a humiliating feeling to know that he was right. To know that despite what a piece of shit he was, over the few weeks I’d known him, I had developed some form of feelings for him. Merle had found me while out checking the camp’s perimeter with Shane. Having just escaped the city, I was exhausted and terrified, and just about ready to collapse on the forest floor and give up. Of course, Merle’s reasoning for taking me back likely had more to do with wanting to fuck me than anything else, but I wasn’t entirely convinced that Shane would have taken me back if Merle hadn’t been there to bear witness. We weren’t exactly close, but we shared a fondness for drinking and he taught me a few things about using a crossbow. I didn’t fool myself into thinking he wanted anything more than a one time fling with me; he flirted with just about anything with tits. But some small, stupid part of me still hoped for more.

I sat next to him, pulling his hand toward me to get a better look at the handcuffs. When I looked up, he was staring into my face with another stupid grin. I sent him a glare back.

“Come on now, don’t be like that. Last I checked we’re all alone up here, no-one needs to know, part from maybe a few walkers,”

“Would you quit it? I’m trying to save your life.”

“Jus’ trying to lighten the mood. You should really try lightening up sometime, wouldn’t kill ya,”

I rolled my eyes, corner of my mouth twitching upwards slightly.

“Looks like cutting through the cuffs is gonna be a no go, but this pipe you’ve been cuffed too looks pretty old. It’s worth a try at least,” I lined up Dale’s saw, and began working at the metal.

“So I’m gonna be stuck with a friendship bracelet from Officer Friendly?”

The thought made me laugh a little.

“It’s not like you don’t deserve it; threatening everyone with a gun wasn’t exactly your best moment.” I teased. In his defence, he had most definitely been high as a kite when he’d started pointing the gun. Not that that really made it any better.

“I wasn’t gunna shoot em. Definitely wasn’t gunna shoot you, ya far too beautiful,” Merle said.

“And so’s Andrea, right? And Lori, and Jackie, and every other woman who isn’t trying to eat us,”

“I dunno, some of those walkers ain’t too bad,”

I hit him on the shoulder.

“Can’t I make a joke? Or are ya gunna get jealous, hmm?”

I stopped talking to him after that, focusing instead on trying to make any headway with the pipe he was handcuffed to. After an hour or so, I had only made a tiny dent in the metal. Merle was getting increasingly annoying, and the sun was starting to slowly set in the sky. If we wanted to leave today I’d have to hurry; travelling the city in the dark was a death sentence. At least the walkers at the rooftop door seemed to have given up, or gotten distracted by some other unfortunate souls. They had stopped pounding on the door some time ago.

The saw blade bent slightly, but I persisted, determined to succeed, speeding up. Under the strain of my sawing, the blade bent sideways, and suddenly snapped under the pressure, coming clattering to the floor.

“The fuck did you do?” Merle demanded.

“The blade wasn’t strong enough. It couldn’t get through the pipe. I’m sorry.” I felt suddenly numb. I couldn’t look at him. I’d failed. I’d failed him. He was stuck here, to starve or to be eaten by walkers.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m gonna fucking die up here, god fucking damnit. Look at me, the fuck did you do?” He grabbed my shoulder with his free hand, gripping me hard, shaking me, forcing me to meet his eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” It was one of the first serious, genuine things I’d said to Merle, and it was a death sentence. Tears pricked my eyes. I didn’t have the energy to hide them.

“No. Fuck that, we’re ain’t done yet. You got a knife, right?” He was still staring into my face, but desperate anger had shifted to urgency.

“Yes, but it won’t cut through metal,” I said.

His grim expression told me that he had already figured that out.

“You can’t be serious. You want me to- I can’t,” There had to be another way.

“You got no choice. It’s my hand or my life.”

It took me a few seconds to process this. The only way out would be to cut off his hand. And I would have to be the one to do it.

“Fine. But I’ll do it first thing in the morning. We don’t have time to get out of the city before it gets dark, and I don’t want you bleeding out overnight.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you cared about me,” His shit eating grin was back. Only Merle could look this smug after discovering his hand was about to be cut off.

“Good job you know better then,” I smiled and sat next to him, looking out over the darkening city. At least we were stuck somewhere with an impressive view. The setting sun sent orange streaking through the sky, bathing buildings in a warm glow. I glanced to my side. Merle appeared to also be taking in the sunset in a rare moment of silence.

*

“I’d do the same for you ya know,” Merle said, breaking the silence after a few minutes.

“No you wouldn’t.” I replied. It wasn’t something that upset me, it was just a fact - if the roles were reversed, I had doubts that Merle would have stayed on this rooftop even for Daryl.

“Course I would. Yer one of the only people I can stand in that group, not to mention ya got a mighty fine ass,” He grinned over at me. I couldn’t help but smile back.

“You mean it?”

“Yeah, course I do. I could stare at it all day,”

I hit his shoulder with mine.

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I ain’t good with the mushy stuff, don’t push it,” He was still smiling, eyes looking into mine for once instead of straying to glance down my shirt.

“Sounds like you care about me, Merle. More than you usually let on at least,” I was teasing him but this moment meant a lot; in short, Merle was shit at showing anyone affection. For him, this was like a declaration of love.

“Yer not gonna make me say it again so drop it,” he huffed.

“I’m just kidding around. And I didn’t just stay here because you’re a good hunter,” I confessed, staring pointedly into the distance to avoid his eyes.

“Course ya didn’t, ain’t no way you’d let me die without getting a piece of this,” It seemed to be his way of lightening the mood, diverting the seriousness of the conversation.

“We should get some sleep, busy day tomorrow.”

*

When the hot sun awoke me the next morning, I found myself nestled into Merle’s side, head on his shoulder, his free arm wrapped around me. I took a moment to enjoy the feeling of his broad body against mine, before pulling away to wake him up. The sooner we were gone, the better.

“Mornin’ “ he grinned lazily.

“You ready?” I asked, and his expression dropped to one of determined focus.

“As I’ll ever be,”

I retrieved my knife and a lighter from one of the pockets of my rucksack. It would have to do as a means of sanitising the blade as I had very little in the way of medical supplies. Shrugging off the button down I wore over a tank top, I folded it ready to use as a bandage for Merle. I could have sworn his eyes slipped down to my cleavage, far more noticeable now the shirt was off, but I wasn’t in the mood to bring it up.

“Can I have your belt?” I asked.

“Don’t need to ask me twice,” He said, the implied innuendo obvious. He unbuckled it with his free hand and tugged it loose.

I strapped it around his forearm, tight as I could make it, a makeshift tourniquet that would hopefully do something to stop the bleeding. It had to be enough.

Merle reached inside his pocket, and withdrew a small bag of white powder.

“You sure that’s a good idea?” I asked, very aware of the dangers we’d face in the city even if he survived losing his hand. Merle being off his face wouldn’t do us any favours.

“Need a little somethin’ to take the edge off,” He tried to form his usual smug grin, but his mouth wavered slightly. I nodded. Who was I to make that decision for him?

I gave him a minute or so, and when he nodded at me, I took my knife to his wrist and began to cut. There was far more blood than I had thought. And despite Merle’s best efforts to remain stoic, and the effects of the drugs, he was in an unbelievable amount of pain. I had to fight the urge to just give up and cry in a corner, but I did it for him. Even when he begged me to stop, to just make the pain stop. His yelling had begun to attract walkers, a few were banging on the rooftop door and the longer this took the more there would be. He gripped my arm as I cut, hard enough to bruise.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” I muttered over and over again as I finished, his hand dropping to the floor with a sickening thunk.

Merle was breathing heavily, gasping through the pain. I pressed my shirt against the wound, tying it tightly and leaving the belt in place. There was so much blood. On my hands, my pants, the rooftop.

“Stay there. I’m going to clear the stairwell, I’ll be right back.”

He nodded.

I unlocked the door and wedged my foot under the door to prevent it opening all the way, a walker slamming forward and right onto my knife. It slumped to the floor. Another was quick to take its place. I worked my way through several before they finally stopped coming. Hopefully only a few had been close enough to hear Merle.

I hurried back toward him. The bleeding seemed to be slowing slightly, though it still showed no signs of stopping. He was losing too much blood. But I wasn’t willing to face that reality.

“You think you can stand?”

“Course I can,” he replied through gritted teeth.

I grabbed his good arm and pulled him forward, helping him stand, putting the arm around my shoulders so I could take some of his body weight. He was heavy, but any help I could give him I would.

We walked to the door and I lead him down the stairwell; it wasn’t wide enough for the two of us side by side, but he leaned on my back and I did my best to steady him on the way down. He stumbled a couple of times, no doubt the blood-loss making him dizzy, but we moved as slowly as I dared, me supporting him when he needed it. At the bottom, another walker lunged towards us. It took me a moment to grab my knife and stick it between its eyes, and I kept the blade in my hand after that. One free hand would have to do to help Merle. It was strange, having to protect him like this. Normally I was certain he’d object to me coddling him like this, but he had no choice but to rely on me for once. We made it to a fire exit around the back of the building in a room with several gas stoves. Merle wasn’t looking his best, blood dripping through the makeshift bandage on his arm. He seemed to have the idea at the same time as me.

“Do it,” He nodded grimly and I grimaced, but didn’t hesitate to light the nearest stove, placing a metal tray on top on the flames to heat through enough to cauterise the stump of his wrist.

“We’re gonna make it back, you know. “

“I know,” He said, but it was easy to see the uncertainty in his eyes.

The metal tray seemed hot enough, and I could tell he was gathering the will to do it, slowly, reluctantly unwrapping the open wound. I wasn’t entirely sure Merle could bring himself to. Gently, I took his arm in my hands, unwrapping it myself. Instead of watching the shirt unravel, he stared down into my face. Despite the circumstances, he still made my cheeks hot with the intensity of his gaze which I somehow managed to meet. I reached up, hooking an arm around his neck and a smile tilted the corners of his mouth. He waited for me to move closer first, and when I leaned my face towards his, he wasted no time in bridging the gap between us with a searing kiss. He was perfectly distracted. It was a shame to waste this moment but I did what had to be done, and drove his wrist down onto the hot metal on the stove.

“Son of a fucking bitch!” He exclaimed, yanking his arm away from the stove, and I winced.

“Shit, I’m sorry, but the bleeding’s stopped, right?”

He glared at me through the pain. “You serious?”

“I said I’m sorry, and I did just stop you from bleeding to death,” I smiled tentatively, and he shook his head, still cursing.

“So ya kiss like that fer a distraction? I’d love ta know what the real thing feels like,”

Kissing him had been stupid. But I was in the mood to be stupid, and I couldn’t resist kissing him again. He somehow mustered up that stupid, endearing grin as I pulled him towards me, lips meeting as his good arm found my waist. I could lose myself in the feeling of kissing Merle, all teeth and tongues colliding with no need to be gentle. His hand scooped me in closer until I was pressed up against him, before drifting to my ass with a squeeze. I hummed in pleasure, forgetting to breathe as he kissed me harder. When we finally broke apart all I wanted was to lean back in and kiss him again and again, to stay like this, pressed as close against him as I could be, not thinking about anything else.

“Knew ya wanted a piece of this,” Merle smirked. God he was insufferable. But I was willing to suffer, so long as he kept kissing me like that.

[summeansheart]

【Daryl and Merle are heading out for a hunt】

Daryl：Darlin' I'm taking out the trash too

Y/n：Be safe, and make sure he doesn't follow you back

Daryl：

Merle：HEY！I HEARD THAT