#spookytwd24

[dixons-sunshine]

Trick Or Treat | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: It was that time of the year. An event you loved celebrating as a child, one you wished to teach your own daughter about. You wanted to make her first Halloween memorable. Meeting a potential new friend was only an added plus to that.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: No apocalypse.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU.

Warnings: None, really. Small mention of death.

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: Hi, hello @dix0nvix3n. Thank you for allowing me to add your AU into my AU. I hope I managed to capture your reader and her daughter at least half decently. Also, this fic concludes my participation to @lazyneonrabbitt’s Halloween challenge. I hope y’all like this!

“Trick or treat!”

“Oh my gosh, you two are adorable! Power Rangers, right?”

You smiled at the children that beamed up at you, their expressions screaming that they only wanted candy, but they were polite nonetheless. The kids’ mom smiled at you, her gaze drifting down from your face to the little girl in your arms—yours and Daryl’s one year old girl, Hazel River Dixon, dressed up as a little hazelnut, in honour of the affectionate nickname given to her by her father.

“Aww, well isn’t she just the cutest little thing!” the woman cooed to the baby girl in your arms, successfully coaxing a small smile from Hazel.

“Thank you,” you replied to her statement with a smile, acutely aware of how cute your daughter was, before chuckling when you noticed the impatient looks on her two kids’ faces. You picked up the huge bowl of candy that rested on the table next to your rocking chair, and extended it towards them. “Here you go.”

The kids laughed and reached forward to grab multiple candies from the bowl, before placing them in their respective pillow cases. “Thank you!” the both of them echoed in sync, before giggling and running off down your porch steps.

The mom laughed lightly. “Sorry. Have a nice Halloween!”

You waved to her as she walked away. You sighed and leaned back in your rocking chair, holding Hazel close to your chest as she closed her eyes. You smoothed your palm over her back, pressing a soft, tender kiss on top of her head.

“Tired, Baby?” you asked rhetorically. She did not say anything—not that you had expected her to—but she nuzzled her face into your chest in response. You chuckled fondly at her. “I know, Sweetheart. Daddy and I will put you to bed in a bit, okay?”

Hazel opened her eyes and looked up at you, before her eyes drifted to something over your shoulder. She smiled happily, her chubby cheeks pulling up to reveal her adorable dimples. You did not have to turn your head to figure out who was behind you. The familiar touch of your husband soon rested on your shoulder, along with a soft press of his lips to the top of your head.

“How’s my girls doin’?” Daryl inquired in an affectionate tone of voice, a softness reserved only for you and your daughter evident in it.

You turned your head to peer up at him, sending him a small smile. “We’re good. Hazie is tired, though. I think after the next family comes up, it’ll be time to call it.”

“That’s probably for the best, yeah. S’gettin’ pretty late,” Daryl agreed. He reached forward and gently ruffled the wispy hair on Hazel’s head, smiling fondly when he successfully elicited a giggle from her. “How ‘bout I get her a bottle?”

You nodded in agreement to his suggestion. “That would be great. Thank you, Dar.”

“Ain’t nothin’, but yer welcome.” He leaned down and pressed one last kiss to the top of your head, doing the same to Hazel, before disappearing into the house with his task in mind.

You turned your attention back to the busy streets of your neighbourhood in King County. You felt content as you watched parents walk around with their happy, bubbly children, waving to one of the mom’s and her child, who was in the class you taught. You had a few regrets in your life, but if there was one thing you did not regret, it was agreeing to buy this house in the small town. It was a big adjustment to the bustling city life you had grown accustomed to whilst living in Atlanta, but you did not mind the change. The move was needed, especially after all the bad things that happened over the past two years.

You shook your head to rid yourself of the unwanted negative thoughts. You did not want to dampen the good mood you had sported the whole day. Daryl was fine now. You did not need to worry anymore.

Your salvation from your steadily wandering thoughts came in the form of a mom and her daughter. You smiled at the outfits they were wearing, thinking to yourself that it was truly amazing. Morticia and Wednesday Addams from The Addams Family. They absolutely nailed the outfits.

“Hi!” you greeted the pair enthusiastically, getting up from the rocking chair and smiling at the mother and daughter duo. “Morticia and Wednesday Addams, right?”

The mom smiled at you brightly, and nodded. “Yeah!” She nudged her daughter slightly, who giggled and looked up at you with a bright smile. “It was her idea. She even got her dad to dress up as Gomez. I wish you could see his costume. He had to run into the corner store for something, though.”

“It’s okay. If your outfits are anything to go by, I bet his is just as amazing.” You jiggled Hazel slightly when she began fussing, shushing her quietly with whispered words of reassurance. “Sorry. She’s tired. She usually has no trouble falling asleep around noises but she wants to stay up and greet all her new friends, it looks like.”

The woman waved you off with a reassuring smile. “It’s fine. I get it. My husband and I did something like this with Delilah when she was about her age. She got a bit fussy towards the end, too.”

“The Halloween when I was a pumpkin?” the girl—Delilah—asked with a big smile, laughing softly when her mom nodded. “Awesome.”

You grabbed the bowl from the table with one hand, extending it towards Delilah. “Here you go, Sweetheart. Take as much as you want.”

“Really?” Delilah asked with a bright smile.

You nodded. “Of course.” Delilah reached forward and grabbed a handful of different candies, placing them in her basket. You noted that she did not go back for a second handful, and you smiled. “That enough, Sweetie?”

Delilah nodded. “Yes, thank you. I don’t wanna take more than my share. Other kids might want some more.”

“That’s really considerate of you. You’re so sweet,” you complimented her, placing the bowl back on the table.

Delilah’s mom smiled at you. “We try to raise her right.”

“Well, you’re doing an amazing job.”

“Mama, I see Daddy!” Delilah exclaimed excitedly. She turned back to you momentarily, not forgetting her manners. “Thank you, ma’am!” Then she sprinted away, rushing towards her father. You could vaguely make out his figure, but other than that, you could not see anything else.

The mom smiled at you and shook her head. “I should probably go. It was nice meeting you… I never caught your name.”

“Y/N,” you replied. The woman repeated her name to you as well, and the two of you exchanged handshakes. “It was nice meeting you too. I’m sure I’ll see you around. Hit me up if you ever wanna go for a drink or something. You know where I live.”

She chuckled and nodded. “I’ll definitely take you up on that offer.” Almost instinctively, her eyes drifted down to Hazel, who you had cooed at quietly a moment ago to soothe her fussing, successfully coaxing a giggle from her. “She’s absolutely precious.”

You looked up from Hazel and looked up at the woman. You noticed a look in her eyes, one that you could only classify as nostalgia. It was a look you were all too familiar with back when you had visited your mom when she was still alive. Your heart went out to the woman. You could see how much she loved her daughter, and seeing Hazel must have transferred her back to the days when Delilah was Hazel’s age. You got emotional looking back at pictures of Hazel when she was a newborn, almost a year prior. You were sure you would be in her boat soon enough.

“Thank you,” you thanked her with a smile. “She’s my absolute pride and joy.”

“I can tell,” she replied, a sweet smile on her face. “Well, I have to get going now, for real this time. It was nice meeting you. I’ll see you for that drink soon. I’m not letting that one go.”

You chuckled and shrugged. “I don’t mind. Just tell me when.”

“Will do.” She sent you one final smile. “It was really nice meeting you. I’ll catch up with you another time.”

With that, she walked away and met up with her husband and daughter, leaving you alone on the porch once more. With one last wave at her and Delilah, you turned around and grabbed the bowl from the table again, deciding to call it a night. Hazel had rested her head against your shoulder during your exchange with the mother and daughter duo, but she had not fallen asleep yet. However, you were sure she would do so after her bottle.

You walked into the kitchen, where you found Daryl testing the heat of the milk against his wrist. He looked up when he heard your footsteps, and sent you a small smile.

“Done for the night?” he asked softly.

You nodded and placed the bowl of candy down on the counter in your kitchen. “Yeah.” You walked towards Daryl and leaned back against the kitchen island, rubbing Hazel’s back soothingly. “We’re both beat, her probably more than me.”

Daryl chuckled and reached forward to gently take Hazel from your arms. Hazel made no protest, melting against her daddy’s chest almost instantly and making grabby hands at the bottle in his hand.

“Let’s get her settled down for the night,” Daryl suggested, bringing the bottle up to her mouth and laughing when she eagerly latched onto it. “I think she agrees.”

“That sounds like a good plan.” You pushed yourself away from the kitchen island and motioned over to the leftover candy in the bowl. “And then we can overeat on a bunch of stuff that’s probably not good for us.”

“Now that,” Daryl began, “sounds like a good plan.”

Taglist: @holdmytesseract (comment/DM me to be added/removed.)

[lazyneonrabbitt]

During the month of october, things take a strange turn..

Turn your faves into a bloodthirsty vampire, or a furry werewolf.

Is that Eugene frankensteining a girlfriend? You could have sworn your lover didn't have scaly skin and horns yesterday..

🎃 Come and see. If you dare...

This October we write about all things spooky and scary, but also tooth rotting sweet! A new writing event for anyone who likes to join.

Each week has its own theme to write about and post. From drabbles to full lenght fics, all is welcome!

The Scedule

The tag for this event is #SpookyTWD24

Make sure to tag your works appropriately, including nsfw/dark or gore themes.

Werewolves and Witches are sharing the spot under the moonlight this week. Magic and potions are flowing through the night skies.

It’s the Vampires’ time to shine! But not as bright as the freshly sharpened Slasher blades. Killers run wild and sacrifices are made this week.

Devils and demons walk among the living! A perfect time for monster lovers, or readers maybe? Frankenstein away, meet creatures of myth!

It’s almost time, so carve those pumpkins and get the costumes ready. Prepare those candy apples for all the hungry trick or treaters!

For any questions, my DMs and inbox are open!

[dixons-sunshine]

Bloody | Vamp!Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, sexual content, blood, accidental injuries.

A/N: Requested by @holdmytesseract. For week two of @lazyneonrabbitt’s Halloween challenge.

With a carefully practiced precession to ensure that he did not accidentally hurt you with his inhuman strength, Daryl lowered you onto the bed in your shared room, his lips never leaving yours. His hands clutched the hem of your shirt in a manner that bordered on desperate. The man’s usually slow beating heart beat faster than normal under the palm of your hand that rested on his chest, and his skin was flushed with a heat that far surpassed his usual body heat, which was slightly colder than the average person’s, but not entirely cold to the touch.

It was clear that your current predicament had begun to alter your partner’s mind, his movements turning more frantic, more fast-paced. Instead of merely removing the shirt over your head, he ripped it to shreds instead, his hands finally being able to feel the smoothness of your soft skin. The feeling of your flesh against his hands, paired with the delectably overwhelming smell of your amazing scent had his mind drifting off into the ether. So much so that he failed to notice his accidental slip up until a drop of blood found its way into his mouth.

The moment the taste of the delicious crimson he relied on for his survival infiltrated his senses, his eyes shot open and he instantly pulled himself away from you, scrambling off of the bed to put some distance between you both. He furiously wiped at his mouth, a futile attempt to rid himself of the mouthwatering taste of your blood. It was not been the first time that he had tasted your blood, but it was the first time where he had lost control of himself to the point where he accidentally hurt you like that.

“Dar, what’s wrong?” you asked him, still breathless from your mind altering make out session with your partner, moving yourself to sit up on the bed.

The sound of your angelic voice snapped Daryl out of his thoughts. His ocean-coloured eyes—now painted with specks of red in them—peered at you from behind his hair. His breathing was ragged, both from your prior activities and the fact that he was attempting to hold himself at bay and control his slowly growing hunger.

“Fuck. M’so goddamn sorry, Sweetheart,” Daryl apologized to you, his eyes showing sincere remorse at the accident. He had not realized that his fangs had elongated. That was the reason your lip had been nicked, and was now bleeding. Because of him. “I swear, I didn’t mean for that to happen. I’d never take yer blood without yer permission. M’not like that.”

You were confused at his words. However, when you brought your hand up to your lip, you winced as your finger made contact with your busted lip, and you knew what he was talking about. And you did not blame him in the slightest. If anything, the minor accident kind of turned you on even more. Daryl’s fangs only ever made an appearance during sex when he was getting drunk on your scent. More often than not, he would lightly scrape his fangs over your body as he went down, but never hard enough to leave an injury.

This was the first time that had happened.

After a moment of silence, you let out a small giggle, confusing Daryl entirely. “What?” he inquired gruffly.

You shook your head, your laugh dying down into a small smile. “Nothing. You’re just so adorable.” Before he could protest, you stood up from the bed, shaking off the last remnants of your destroyed shirt, and walked over to him. You looped your arms around his neck and pressed your body against his, your lower half making contact with his hard erection. You successfully elicited a small groan from him, making you smirk slightly.

“You have nothing to apologize for. It was an accident. I didn’t even realize it happened until you pointed it out.” You leaned forward to whisper in his ear, your tone low and seductive. “Besides, you know I don’t mind if you take some of my blood. I was gonna suggest you do that, anyway. But not on my lip. I was gonna say somewhere more…” You took one of his hands in yours and guided it down, letting it hover right above the clothed skin of your cunt. “...enjoyable for us both.”

Your words barely had time to sit in the air. You were hoisted off of your feet and practically flung back onto the bed. A light laugh escaped your chest, and you smiled at the sight of Daryl clambering back to hover over you, his hands clumsily but eagerly working to free you of your jeans.

When you were left in nothing but your bra, Daryl moved up to slant his mouth across yours for a gentle kiss. His tongue swiped over your bottom lip a few times, his spit coating your mouth. When he was satisfied, he pulled back and stared down at you, a small, lopsided smile on his face.

“S’gon’ make sure yer lip heals faster,” he explained, although it was unnecessary. You were well aware of the healing attributes his saliva held.

“Daryl, please stop worrying about a small cut on my lip and just fuck me already.”

Daryl chuckled at your impatient tone. He pressed one last kiss to your lips before pulling away again. “Yes, ma’am.”

[dixons-sunshine]

Good Boy | Were!Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Finally being cleared to go out on runs again, Daryl took you with him to go explore an abandoned warehouse. There, the two of you stumbled across something that had you saying werewolf puns left and right, much to Daryl’s chagrin.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Alexandria, no arc in particular.

Warnings: Swearing, slight insinuation towards sexual themes near the end.

Word count: 2.2k.

A/N: Okay, so my original intention for week one of @lazyneonrabbitt’s Halloween challenge was to introduce my OC I made specifically for were!Daryl, but I completely scrapped the idea I had and it’s gonna take me a while to rewrite it. In the mean time, here’s this to get my foot in the door with writing for this popular AU. I hope y’all like this!

“Woah, girl. Hold yer horses. We dun’ know what could be waitin’ for us in there.” Despite his words, Daryl could not help the small chuckle that reverberated in his chest at your clear-as-day giddiness. You had not over exaggerated your need to get out of the community. Two weeks of mandatory bed rest due to your sprained ankle and you were antsy and rearing to go, to do something other than be confined to the walls of your home.

You laughed lightly at the archer’s concern, but complied with his request nonetheless. You slowed your pace and allowed for him to catch up to you, although you knew that he could easily outrun you if he truly wanted to. “Sorry,” you apologized halfheartedly.

Truth be told, you did not completely mean your apology. If there truly were any dangers lurking beyond the doors of the warehouse the two of you were about to enter, Daryl’s keen, heightened senses would have instantly alerted him and he would not have been as lighthearted and lenient as he had been up until that point. Sometimes you truly cherished the fact that you had a werewolf as a boyfriend—well, partner. Daryl was not particularly fond of the ‘b’ word.

With a shake of his head, Daryl chuckled at you. “S’alright. Jus’ stick real close to me, yeah? Dun’ want nothin’ happenin’ to ya. I dun’ trust myself enough to say for sure that there ain’t nothin’ behind this door without makin’ sure first.”

“Okay,” you said with a nod. You remained silent whilst he banged on the metal of the door, a routine you knew all too well at that point. After about two minutes of silence, and no walkers came to inspect the noise Daryl had caused, you stepped forward and lightly nudged his shoulder, a small smile on your face. “You should really learn to trust yourself more, Dar. When was the last time your senses lied to you?”

Daryl opened his mouth to protest, but he realized that what you said rung true. When he picked up on something, he was always right. His supernaturally heightened senses had rarely failed him back before the world ended, and it had not failed him once since the dead had started to rise. However, he was a stubborn man, so he refused to accept the truth that lingered in your words.

“Jus’ humour me sometimes, alright? I jus’ wanna make sure ya stay safe, Sweetheart,” he replied, his tone of voice sincere and filled with love.

Your heart practically melted at his soft admission. You stepped forward and gently took his face into your hands, making him look at you. “You’re too sweet for your own good sometimes, Dar,” you told him softly, giggling lightly as you noticed the crimson colour that had begun to spread across his cheeks. “I’m not gonna say I can take care of myself because I know that’s not going to change how protective you are, but…”

Daryl’s lips twitched up into a small smile as he saw the mischief that sparkled in your eyes. He knew exactly why you had not finished that sentence. If you had, you would have contradicted what you had just told him. “But ya can take care’a yerself,” he finished for you with a light chuckle, his pointed canines on full display.

You smiled at him. You gently patted his cheek before taking a step back, withdrawing your hunting knife—a gift from Daryl—and holding it at the ready. “Damn straight,” you told him confidently, your heart skipping a beat at the lighthearted laugh you managed to coax from Daryl at your confident demeanour. “Now come on. Let’s see what we can find.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Daryl replied, his cerulean eyes sparkling as he looked at you. He adjusted his grip on his crossbow, ensuring that the weapon could be fired at a moment’s notice, before finally opening the door to the warehouse.

The two of you stepped into the abandoned building, your prior camaraderie fading as the seriousness of the situation took root inside your minds instead. You could hear the faint drip of water droplets descending to the floor somewhere within the building, and the chill of the wind outside blew through the broken windows, making the warehouse colder than it needed to be. However, as you continued to explore the area, you noted that there truly were no walkers around, and no other dangers had made themselves known yet, so you were certain that the building was secure. Still, even with that knowledge, you kept your guard up, your eyes searching the place nonetheless.

After about ten minutes of silence, where you and Daryl had just been busy exploring and ensuring that the warehouse truly was safe, the archer spoke up. “Place seems secure.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. However, you could not help the satisfied smirk that painted your features. “Would you look at that? I was right. Your senses didn’t fail you.”

Daryl rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Jus’ rub it i—”

Before Daryl could finish his sentence, a loud bang could be heard. Whipping around with his crossbow raised, he could see that the source of the deafening noise had been caused because a few metal pipes had fallen from their place against the wall. However, what had caused that to happen in the first place, he did not know. All he did know was that he smelled something he had not smelled outside of the community in a long time. He had to be wrong, though. There was no way he could be right about that.

With his finger raised to his lips, a silent insinuation for you to be quiet, he trudged forward to investigate. You followed closely behind him, your knife raised in case you would need it. However, you soon realized that what had happened was not caused by an enemy. In fact, it had been caused by a poor, unsuspecting creature.

You heard it before you saw it. The pained whimpers reached your ears before you laid eyes on the small, injured creature, making you grasp Daryl’s wrist in your hand to stop him before his finger curled around the trigger of his beloved crossbow. “Stop!” you exclaimed hurriedly, instantly regretting your loud tone of voice when Daryl flinched at it. You had momentarily forgotten about his heightened hearing. “Sorry,” you apologized sincerely, sheathing your knife into its holster. “Just... look.”

You moved forward and crouched down in front of the metal pipes, and slowly began picking them up and moving them aside. Slowly but surely, you began to see brown fur, closely followed by a white paw, and then another. Soon, you could see a pair of the cutest dark brown eyes staring up at you, and you could not help the gasp of surprise that left you.

“Hi, baby,” you cooed to it and extended your hand towards it—a small, brown dachshund dog.

The dog slowly began wagging its tail, lifting its head slightly to nudge its nose against your hand, getting familiar with your scent. When it noticed you were not a threat, it began to crawl its body towards you, but stopped and let out a whimper at the exertion.

Your eyebrows furrowed and you picked it up. With a quick look down, you noted that the dog was a boy. “It’s okay, boy. I got you. I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m gonna take really good care of you, okay?” The dog simply looked up at you with his adorable brown eyes, and it made you smile. “You’re just too precious, sweetheart.”

Daryl smiled softly at the sight in front of him. He lowered his crossbow and took a step forward, but stopped when the dog looked at him and began barking. The archer rolled his eyes at that. He was not surprised. That was generally the reaction he always got whenever he encountered a new dog. Thankfully, he knew how to take care of it.

Daryl walked up next to you and placed a hand on your shoulder. He looked down at the dog and let out a low growl, his eyes momentarily flashing an orange colour, before fading back into its usual blue. The dog whined and lowered his head, his barks quieting down. The archer slowly lifted his hand and extended it towards the dog, and when the dog made no protest, he slowly began scratching him behind his ears.

Your giggles soon reached Daryl’s ears. Looking at you, his eyebrows raised questioningly. “What’s so funny?” he inquired, his eyes darting over your face.

You shook your head. “Nothing. I just never took you for a dog person, Daryl.”

Daryl scoffed and took a step back, his eyes narrowed into a glare as he looked at you, but there was no real heat behind his eyes. “Ya think yer hilarious, don’tcha?”

“Oh, I know I’m hilarious,” you replied with a quiet giggle. “I’m just saying, though. Should I be scared that you’re gonna get into a tug-of-war battle with him once I find him some toys?”

Daryl glared at you, but he could not help the small smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. He decided not to comment on the fact that you had decided to keep the dog without even asking for his input, but he did not really mind. He would have said yes anyways. Anything to ensure your happiness. “Nice,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. Opting to change the topic, he continued. “C’mon, let’s go. Ain’t nothin’ here ‘cept dust and some metal. We should pro’ly head back.” He mainly said that because he knew that your mind would be occupied with the small dog instead of looking around the warehouse, so his safest bet was to get you home. He turned around and began making his way towards the exit.

Adjusting the small daschund in your arms, you jogged slightly to keep up with your partner’s long strides. You thanked your lucky stars that you and Daryl had opted to take a truck instead of his bike, because that made it so much easier to get the dog home with you. “Does this mean that he’s a part of your pack now?”

Rolling his eyes, he opened the door to the back of the truck and took the dog from you, placing him into the backseat. “He’s a dog, m’a werewolf. We’re not the same.”

You nodded at his words. “Okay,” you responded. When Daryl turned around, you smirked to yourself and reached down, picking up a stick. “Hey, Babe?” When Daryl turned around, you threw the stick to the side. You smiled at the way he perked up, his eyes following the stick, clearly wanting to chase it.

However, he refrained himself from doing so, and instead shut his eyes at the fact that he had been caught. “Yer on thin ice, woman,” he grumbled.

You laughed and stepped forward, gently cupping his cheek in your hand. His eyes opened and he stared at you, his gaze softening considerably. “There’s no need to be ashamed about your more dog-like tendencies, Dar. I find them endearing. Plus, I think it’s adorable when you glare at a squirrel or you have to refrain yourself from doing things like that.” For added emphasis, you gestured towards the stick you had thrown a few moments prior. “I think those things perfectly balance out your ‘scarier’, stronger qualities. I love everything about you. Everything about you makes my heart howl with joy.”

Daryl rolled his eyes, but he could not help the smile that spread across his face. “Thanks,” he mumbled, closing his eyes at the feeling of your hand slipping into his hair, scratching at his scalp right behind his ear, and he leaned into your touch. However, he soon realized what you had done, and he stepped back and sent you a playful glare, a small smile on his face. “Okay, yer a bitch for that one.”

You laughed and leaned in to give him a quick kiss, before pulling back. “I’m sorry. That one was just too good to pass up.” You stepped back and smiled at him. “Come on, let’s go. You did good today, and every good boy deserves a treat.”

Daryl deliberately ignored that last dog pun, instead focusing on the insinuation behind your words. Within seconds, thanks to his supernaturally enhanced speed, he was situated within the truck, looking at you through the open window expectantly. “Ya jus’ gon’ stand there and look pretty or are ya comin’?”

You giggled and made your way over to the passenger side, clambering in to the vehicle before shutting the door behind you. Daryl started the truck and pulled away from the warehouse, beginning the drive back to Alexandria. You glanced back and noticed that the dog you had found had curled up into the seat, his breathing steady as he slept, and you smiled at the sight. “Is that what our kids are gonna look like in the future?”

Daryl glanced at you, his heart swelling at the knowledge that you had thought of having kids with him. “Yeah, somethin’ like that. They come out human, though. They shift on their first birthday if they carry the lycanthropy gene.”

“Well, if that’s the case, I can’t wait until we have our own litter of puppies.”

“I walked head first into that one, didn’t I?”

“Yes. Yes, you did.”

[dixons-sunshine]

Goat Sucker | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Daryl’s story of the mythical chupacabra back in the early days was believed to be just that—a story. So when you and a few others found yourselves running for your lives from a demonic, dog-like creature, you were beginning to believe that his story could have held some truth.

Era: Prison, pre season four.

Warnings: Swearing, near death, I don’t really know how else to tag this.

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: For week three of @lazyneonrabbitt’s Halloween challenge. I read ‘monster mash’ and my mind went here. I hope I didn’t mess up the theme because I’ll admit, I didn’t fully understand the prompt 😅. I hope this is still okay, though!

You could clearly remember the day you first locked eyes with the love of your life, Daryl Dixon. It had been nearly three weeks into the apocalypse, and everyone had gathered around the campfire to exchange stories about their lives. The Dixon brothers had surprisingly opted to join you all, and of everything you had expected the younger brother to share with the group, the fact that he had encountered a chupacabra had not been on the top of the list at all.

Despite the absolute seriousness the crossbow-wielding archer exuded whilst relaying the ominous tale of his supposed encounter with the mythical ‘goat sucker’, nobody had believed him. Everyone already had to accept that the dead could walk. Accepting that something like a chupacabra could potentially be real was just too much. Everybody had waved him off, and decided that his story was just that—a story.

However, as you, Daryl, Maggie, Glenn, and Rick sprinted through the woods as fast as each of your legs could carry you, something that resembled a dog but just wasn’t one chasing after you, you were beginning to realize that Daryl’s story could potentially hold some truth.

“Fuck!” Glenn exclaimed in a frustrated whisper as your small group pushed forward into the cabin that you all had miraculously stumbled upon whilst running away from the unknown creature. “What the fuck is that?!”

“It’s dead, as soon as I figure out how to kill it,” Rick said, his chest heaving as he tried to recapture his breath. He leaned forward and rested his hands on his knees, closing his eyes as he attempted to get his ducks in a row.

“Holy mother of fucking shit,” you mumbled hoarsely as you rushed towards the window, unofficially becoming the lookout to alert the others if you saw that thing. “Did you see the colour of that thing’s eyes?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware I was supposed to be paying attention to its eyes,” Maggie started in a sarcastic tone of voice, although you could clearly note the small tremble in her words. “I was more focused on its fangs. Y’know, the same fangs that almost took a chunk from my leg!”

“My eyes were on its backbones,” Glenn whispered in disgust, a shiver rolling over his spine. “What kind of dog looks like that? Acts like that? Is it rabid or something?”

“Nah, it ain’t rabid,” Daryl finally spoke up, instantly gaining everyone’s attention. “Ain’t a dog, neither.”

Rick stepped forward, his blue eyes staring into those of his found brother, desperately seeking his expertise on your current predicament. “You know what that thing is?” When Daryl simply nodded, Rick continued. “What is it?”

Daryl hesitated for a moment. His eyes flickered over to you and Glenn for a split second, before he shook his head and exhaled deeply. “Ya remember that story I told y’all way back when? When we were all gathered ‘round the campfire?”

Recognition dawned on you. “You don’t think—”

“It can’t be,” Glenn cut you off, firmly shaking his head. “They aren’t real. They can’t be.”

Daryl scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, ya got a better explanation for what that thing is, Rhee?”

As Daryl and Glenn bickered back and forth, a quiet scratch on the door captured your attention. Frowning, you pushed yourself away from the window, and slowly made your way over to the door. Your heart was pounding against your ribcage as you approached the door, leaning your ear against the wood to attempt to decipher what had made the noise. You did not want to instantly assume the worst, but every instinct in your body was yelling at you to run, that the not-so-dog was beyond the door, waiting to pounce.

“What are y’all talking about?” Maggie chipped in, confusion lacing her tone of voice. “What is that thing? Or what isn’t it?”

“It ain’t a walker, that’s for damn sure,” Daryl muttered, his steely gaze flickering between Glenn, Maggie and Rick, before resting on you. His eyebrows furrowed as he regarded the terrified look on your face, every sense in his body on high alert. “Y/N? What—”

A loud crash came from the window, shards of glass littering across the floor. A loud yelp escaped Maggie as Glenn pulled her back from the threat that lurked a mere few feet away, and Daryl whipped around with his crossbow raised high. He shot an arrow towards the dog-like creature, the arrow hitting its mark in the creature’s head. However, despite what should have been a lethal shot, the creature was fine. If anything, the shot had simply served to piss the creature off, the dog-monster creeping towards all of you, low growls escaping its mouth as its crimson eyes glared up at all of you.

“Shit!” Daryl cursed loudly as he attempted to reload his crossbow. However, before Daryl’s fingertips could even graze against another arrow, the creature lunged towards him. Daryl fell over onto his back, the monster’s long, rotting fangs trying to bite into the archer, but the younger Dixon brother refused to go out without a fight. Daryl held the creature’s mouth away from him with his hands, but it was clear that he was fighting a battle he was sure to lose in the end.

In a desperate attempt to save Daryl, Glenn, Maggie and Rick each began firing shots towards the monster. You would have joined too, but you quickly realized that your gun was not on your person anymore. You must have dropped it somewhere in the forest while initially running away from the very creature that stood before you. However, you realized that even if you did have your gun on you, it would not have been of any help. Despite the multiple bullets that were being fired into its head, face, stomach, and its back, the creature’s relentless onslaught to take a bite from Daryl did not cease.

The dog-like creature appeared to be unkillable.

You were desperately trying to wrack your brain to find a solution. Daryl would not be able to keep the monster’s fangs away from him much longer. He had already been running on a mere two hours of sleep, and had taken quite the hit while fighting of walkers, so you knew the archer’s resistance was wearing thin.

One after the other, Rick, Glenn and Maggie’s weapons made their uselessness known with resounding clicks that filled the air. You knew that a solution needed to be found, and fast. Daryl’s life depended on it.

Grabbing the nearest object—an iron rod—you rushed forward and began striking the monster with all your might, completely disregarding your own safety. The need to help the archer overtook every ounce of survival instinct in you. You could not let Daryl die. That was out of the question.

Miraculously, the first blow with the iron rod sent the creature flying back. However, you did not stop there. You rushed forward and continued your relentless onslaught on the monster, delivering blow after blow to its body. Admittedly, the small, pained whimper it let out right before its ultimate demise had you feeling sorry for it, but the knowledge that this thing had tried to kill the man you loved drowned out any guilt you felt towards killing it. With one final sickening blow to its head, the creature fell silent, its last breath leaving its body before its death.

The iron rod fell out of your grasp and to the ground below with a loud clank. Your chest was heaving as you looked down at the dog-like monster with wide eyes, fully taking in its appearance. It indeed looked exactly like the archer had described it almost two years prior, and it dawned on you that what Daryl had said rung true; chupacabras exist. You had seen so with your own eyes.

The feeling of someone’s hand on your shoulder brought you back to reality. You raised your head and locked eyes with your partner, his ocean eyes holding a mix of gratitude, disbelief, and a slight mix of fear. He had just looked death right in the face, and only narrowly escaped its clutches.

Completely disregarding the fact that public displays of affection made him uncomfortable, he gathered you into his arms, holding you tightly in his embrace. You did not cry, not about to do so in front of your peers, but Daryl could feel the tremble in your body. You had been afraid for him, for your group, and for yourself. Had you not grabbed that iron rod, you all would have been doomed. Daryl had read somewhere that iron was one of the only things that could hurt and potentially kill a chupacabra, and that theory had proven to be correct.

Exhaling deeply, Daryl shifted his attention towards Glenn, Maggie and Rick. He could clearly note the fear and disbelief on their faces, but that was not his main concern. For almost two years, everyone had laughed at his chupacabra encounter, calling it a lie. Although you did not believe him either, you never outrightly laughed in his face and called him a liar, and he appreciated that.

“See? I told y’all that I saw a chupacabra back then, ya fucks,” he breathed out, before lowering his voice and whispering to you. “Not ya, Sweetheart. That didn’t include you.”

“I know,” you mumbled against his chest, before withdrawing from his embrace and looking up at him. It was only then that you noticed the gash on his shoulder, and you gasped. “Daryl—”

“M’fine,” he cut you off. “I’ll let ya check on it once we get back to the prison, alright?” he reassured you, knowing that you would continue to put up a fight otherwise.

You nodded, choosing to accept that for the time being. “Okay.”

“Well, what the actual hell are we waiting for?” Glenn spoke up, his voice higher pitched than normal to fully show his distress. “Let’s go! I don’t wanna find out if these things travel in packs or something.”

“I agree. Let’s get the fuck outta here,” Rick agreed, already heading towards the door. “Even if that thing was the only one here, those gunshots sure as hell attracted walkers. We need to get going.”

“Okay,” Daryl agreed with a nod, glancing towards you. “Let’s go.”1

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Rabbitt's TWD Halloween '24

Witches and Woos

🐺 Daryl Dixon x reader 🌿

What happens when a witch and a werewolf decide they need the same clearing in the forest where the moon shines brightest.

The community you joined two days ago was a nice one. Or at least it seemed to be, as long as you didn't ask about leaving the gates during the night.

No matter who you asked if it was okay to go out that night the answer was no. And on top of that no one could give you a straightforward reason as to why they weren't letting you go out.

But that didn't stop you from sneaking out over the wall like you saw that kid do the day before.

Once your feet hit the ground you set out to the clearing you passed once before, it was the perfect place to work your magic.

You wanted to return the kindness of allowing you into the community with a blessing of crops, but you needed privacy and moonlight for it so your only option was to go outside the walls on the night of the full moon for the best results.

Your items in your bag made noise as you walked, already a hand against the outside to dampen it and a knife in your hand in case a stray walker came across your path.

You made it to the clearing without any unpleasantries and laid out all of the spell's components. Things were looking like it was going to be a quick and easy job, until a growl startled you.

"Leave." A deep snarling voice sounded as a large beast stepped into the moonlight.

"Shut it, I need to focus." You had spared it only a fraction of a glance before you went back to mixing herbs and taking a knife to your palm.

"These woods are protected. Leave." The beast stepped closer, heavy footfalls on the dirt ground. "I will tear you open."

You looked up at him, barely lifting your head. "You kill me and you'll curse your precious community's crops for the next couple of generations so you better sit your ass down, mutt."

A huff left him as he moved even closer, inspecting your works. "You cast blessings?" He tilted his head, hovering over your carefully arranged items.

"Yes I do, now get out of my goddamn light." With your now bloodied hand you shoved his snout out of reach, leaving a handprint on his nose.

"You are on my lands." He scoffed as he laid down, eyeing your work with great focus.

"Yeah yeah, boo hoo. Doggy wants his field back so he can run around in ghe moonlight. I'll be gone before you know it." You rolled your eyes at him and continued doing your thing, mixing all the spell's ingredients and speaking the needed words in a hushed tone. In the corner of your eye you noticed your canine companion walking off and lay down off to the edge of the clearing.

You moved on with the last bits of your spell and started cleanup when you heard a low grumble from the other end of the clearing where your lycantrophic companion had laid down. Taking him in for a moment you noticed his sleep was restless, panicked energy oozing off him.

With a sigh you sat back down and rummaged through your bag and took out various items, putting together a quick sleeping remedy from herbs. A lavender base with a few other ingredients made a mixture that should help him sleep more calm, so you put it in a small pouch and carefully nestled it between his forearm and cheek.

The next days were quiet ones for you. You had no job yet so all you did was get to know the layout of your new home and get aquainted with the residents.

Here and there you picked up talk of the full moon, and the creature you met but you kept to yourself in fear of letting it slip that you snuck out.

You also spotted someone new walking around a couple days later. He looked scruffy, tired and oddly familiar.

Just familiar until he came up to you and held out a pouch to you. "Guess I owe ya thanks."

You looked the man up and down, now easily recognising his features that matched your werewolf visitor.

"Keep it." You kindly declined the return of your product. "As long as you keep the strings tied it'll stay effective."

"Hmhm, thanks" with a nod a silence fell between the two of you, both unsure how to continue the conversation.

"Well, I guess I'll be heading home." You gave your basket of rations a pat and bid him farewell.

"Yeah, me too." Again he nodded and turned to walk off. In the same direction as you, so you fell into step with him jn silence again.

It wasn't that you hadn't met werewolves before, but this one was different. He wasn't begging you for cures or herbs, hell he even tried to return the pouch you offered him.

"So eh," you needed to break this awkward silence. "How long have you been like that?" You gestured at the pouch he had pocketed and got a long sigh in response as he blew out the smoke from deep in his lungs.

"Forty years, give or take. Was a teen." He gave you a look then. "N'you? When did ya learn?"

You thought back to way before, and your mother. Oh how you missed her. "I was always told to keep nature and its creatures as friends. So my mom taught me from the second I could properly read." You laughed yo yourself. "Man, she would be smiling ear to ear if she learned I made a friend like you."

"Next time ya wanna go outside the walls, jus' ask me." With a short wave he turned up the path that led to his home where a bike sat in an open garage. "Name's Daryl, by the way."

With a wave of your own you gave him your name as well as you confinued on to your place down the street.

Tonight you'd have to light a candle and thank the moon for this meeting.

[holdmytesseract]

Aweeeee, omg, I love this SO much! 🥰

You smiled at the children that beamed up at you, their expressions screaming that they only wanted candy, but they were polite nonetheless. The kids’ mom smiled at you, her gaze drifting down from your face to the little girl in your arms—yours and Daryl’s one year old girl, Hazel River Dixon, dressed up as a little hazelnut, in honour of the affectionate nickname given to her by her father.

A little hazelnut... 🥹 I think I'm gonna cryyyy, that's absolutely precious. 🥹💖

Trick Or Treat | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: It was that time of the year. An event you loved celebrating as a child, one you wished to teach your own daughter about. You wanted to make her first Halloween memorable. Meeting a potential new friend was only an added plus to that.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: No apocalypse.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU.

Warnings: None, really. Small mention of death.

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: Hi, hello @dix0nvix3n. Thank you for allowing me to add your AU into my AU. I hope I managed to capture your reader and her daughter at least half decently. Also, this fic concludes my participation to @lazyneonrabbitt’s Halloween challenge. I hope y’all like this!

“Trick or treat!”

“Oh my gosh, you two are adorable! Power Rangers, right?”

You smiled at the children that beamed up at you, their expressions screaming that they only wanted candy, but they were polite nonetheless. The kids’ mom smiled at you, her gaze drifting down from your face to the little girl in your arms—yours and Daryl’s one year old girl, Hazel River Dixon, dressed up as a little hazelnut, in honour of the affectionate nickname given to her by her father.

“Aww, well isn’t she just the cutest little thing!” the woman cooed to the baby girl in your arms, successfully coaxing a small smile from Hazel.

“Thank you,” you replied to her statement with a smile, acutely aware of how cute your daughter was, before chuckling when you noticed the impatient looks on her two kids’ faces. You picked up the huge bowl of candy that rested on the table next to your rocking chair, and extended it towards them. “Here you go.”

The kids laughed and reached forward to grab multiple candies from the bowl, before placing them in their respective pillow cases. “Thank you!” the both of them echoed in sync, before giggling and running off down your porch steps.

The mom laughed lightly. “Sorry. Have a nice Halloween!”

You waved to her as she walked away. You sighed and leaned back in your rocking chair, holding Hazel close to your chest as she closed her eyes. You smoothed your palm over her back, pressing a soft, tender kiss on top of her head.

“Tired, Baby?” you asked rhetorically. She did not say anything—not that you had expected her to—but she nuzzled her face into your chest in response. You chuckled fondly at her. “I know, Sweetheart. Daddy and I will put you to bed in a bit, okay?”

Hazel opened her eyes and looked up at you, before her eyes drifted to something over your shoulder. She smiled happily, her chubby cheeks pulling up to reveal her adorable dimples. You did not have to turn your head to figure out who was behind you. The familiar touch of your husband soon rested on your shoulder, along with a soft press of his lips to the top of your head.

“How’s my girls doin’?” Daryl inquired in an affectionate tone of voice, a softness reserved only for you and your daughter evident in it.

You turned your head to peer up at him, sending him a small smile. “We’re good. Hazie is tired, though. I think after the next family comes up, it’ll be time to call it.”

“That’s probably for the best, yeah. S’gettin’ pretty late,” Daryl agreed. He reached forward and gently ruffled the wispy hair on Hazel’s head, smiling fondly when he successfully elicited a giggle from her. “How ‘bout I get her a bottle?”

You nodded in agreement to his suggestion. “That would be great. Thank you, Dar.”

“Ain’t nothin’, but yer welcome.” He leaned down and pressed one last kiss to the top of your head, doing the same to Hazel, before disappearing into the house with his task in mind.

You turned your attention back to the busy streets of your neighbourhood in King County. You felt content as you watched parents walk around with their happy, bubbly children, waving to one of the mom’s and her child, who was in the class you taught. You had a few regrets in your life, but if there was one thing you did not regret, it was agreeing to buy this house in the small town. It was a big adjustment to the bustling city life you had grown accustomed to whilst living in Atlanta, but you did not mind the change. The move was needed, especially after all the bad things that happened over the past two years.

You shook your head to rid yourself of the unwanted negative thoughts. You did not want to dampen the good mood you had sported the whole day. Daryl was fine now. You did not need to worry anymore.

Your salvation from your steadily wandering thoughts came in the form of a mom and her daughter. You smiled at the outfits they were wearing, thinking to yourself that it was truly amazing. Morticia and Wednesday Addams from The Addams Family. They absolutely nailed the outfits.

“Hi!” you greeted the pair enthusiastically, getting up from the rocking chair and smiling at the mother and daughter duo. “Morticia and Wednesday Addams, right?”

The mom smiled at you brightly, and nodded. “Yeah!” She nudged her daughter slightly, who giggled and looked up at you with a bright smile. “It was her idea. She even got her dad to dress up as Gomez. I wish you could see his costume. He had to run into the corner store for something, though.”

“It’s okay. If your outfits are anything to go by, I bet his is just as amazing.” You jiggled Hazel slightly when she began fussing, shushing her quietly with whispered words of reassurance. “Sorry. She’s tired. She usually has no trouble falling asleep around noises but she wants to stay up and greet all her new friends, it looks like.”

The woman waved you off with a reassuring smile. “It’s fine. I get it. My husband and I did something like this with Delilah when she was about her age. She got a bit fussy towards the end, too.”

“The Halloween when I was a pumpkin?” the girl—Delilah—asked with a big smile, laughing softly when her mom nodded. “Awesome.”

You grabbed the bowl from the table with one hand, extending it towards Delilah. “Here you go, Sweetheart. Take as much as you want.”

“Really?” Delilah asked with a bright smile.

You nodded. “Of course.” Delilah reached forward and grabbed a handful of different candies, placing them in her basket. You noted that she did not go back for a second handful, and you smiled. “That enough, Sweetie?”

Delilah nodded. “Yes, thank you. I don’t wanna take more than my share. Other kids might want some more.”

“That’s really considerate of you. You’re so sweet,” you complimented her, placing the bowl back on the table.

Delilah’s mom smiled at you. “We try to raise her right.”

“Well, you’re doing an amazing job.”

“Mama, I see Daddy!” Delilah exclaimed excitedly. She turned back to you momentarily, not forgetting her manners. “Thank you, ma’am!” Then she sprinted away, rushing towards her father. You could vaguely make out his figure, but other than that, you could not see anything else.

The mom smiled at you and shook her head. “I should probably go. It was nice meeting you… I never caught your name.”

“Y/N,” you replied. The woman repeated her name to you as well, and the two of you exchanged handshakes. “It was nice meeting you too. I’m sure I’ll see you around. Hit me up if you ever wanna go for a drink or something. You know where I live.”

She chuckled and nodded. “I’ll definitely take you up on that offer.” Almost instinctively, her eyes drifted down to Hazel, who you had cooed at quietly a moment ago to soothe her fussing, successfully coaxing a giggle from her. “She’s absolutely precious.”

You looked up from Hazel and looked up at the woman. You noticed a look in her eyes, one that you could only classify as nostalgia. It was a look you were all too familiar with back when you had visited your mom when she was still alive. Your heart went out to the woman. You could see how much she loved her daughter, and seeing Hazel must have transferred her back to the days when Delilah was Hazel’s age. You got emotional looking back at pictures of Hazel when she was a newborn, almost a year prior. You were sure you would be in her boat soon enough.

“Thank you,” you thanked her with a smile. “She’s my absolute pride and joy.”

“I can tell,” she replied, a sweet smile on her face. “Well, I have to get going now, for real this time. It was nice meeting you. I’ll see you for that drink soon. I’m not letting that one go.”

You chuckled and shrugged. “I don’t mind. Just tell me when.”

“Will do.” She sent you one final smile. “It was really nice meeting you. I’ll catch up with you another time.”

With that, she walked away and met up with her husband and daughter, leaving you alone on the porch once more. With one last wave at her and Delilah, you turned around and grabbed the bowl from the table again, deciding to call it a night. Hazel had rested her head against your shoulder during your exchange with the mother and daughter duo, but she had not fallen asleep yet. However, you were sure she would do so after her bottle.

You walked into the kitchen, where you found Daryl testing the heat of the milk against his wrist. He looked up when he heard your footsteps, and sent you a small smile.

“Done for the night?” he asked softly.

You nodded and placed the bowl of candy down on the counter in your kitchen. “Yeah.” You walked towards Daryl and leaned back against the kitchen island, rubbing Hazel’s back soothingly. “We’re both beat, her probably more than me.”

Daryl chuckled and reached forward to gently take Hazel from your arms. Hazel made no protest, melting against her daddy’s chest almost instantly and making grabby hands at the bottle in his hand.

“Let’s get her settled down for the night,” Daryl suggested, bringing the bottle up to her mouth and laughing when she eagerly latched onto it. “I think she agrees.”

“That sounds like a good plan.” You pushed yourself away from the kitchen island and motioned over to the leftover candy in the bowl. “And then we can overeat on a bunch of stuff that’s probably not good for us.”

“Now that,” Daryl began, “sounds like a good plan.”

Taglist: @holdmytesseract (comment/DM me to be added/removed.)

[holdmytesseract]

This sent shivers down my spine. 🫣

Goat Sucker | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Daryl’s story of the mythical chupacabra back in the early days was believed to be just that—a story. So when you and a few others found yourselves running for your lives from a demonic, dog-like creature, you were beginning to believe that his story could have held some truth.

Era: Prison, pre season four.

Warnings: Swearing, near death, I don’t really know how else to tag this.

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: For week three of @lazyneonrabbitt’s Halloween challenge. I read ‘monster mash’ and my mind went here. I hope I didn’t mess up the theme because I’ll admit, I didn’t fully understand the prompt 😅. I hope this is still okay, though!

You could clearly remember the day you first locked eyes with the love of your life, Daryl Dixon. It had been nearly three weeks into the apocalypse, and everyone had gathered around the campfire to exchange stories about their lives. The Dixon brothers had surprisingly opted to join you all, and of everything you had expected the younger brother to share with the group, the fact that he had encountered a chupacabra had not been on the top of the list at all.

Despite the absolute seriousness the crossbow-wielding archer exuded whilst relaying the ominous tale of his supposed encounter with the mythical ‘goat sucker’, nobody had believed him. Everyone already had to accept that the dead could walk. Accepting that something like a chupacabra could potentially be real was just too much. Everybody had waved him off, and decided that his story was just that—a story.

However, as you, Daryl, Maggie, Glenn, and Rick sprinted through the woods as fast as each of your legs could carry you, something that resembled a dog but just wasn’t one chasing after you, you were beginning to realize that Daryl’s story could potentially hold some truth.

“Fuck!” Glenn exclaimed in a frustrated whisper as your small group pushed forward into the cabin that you all had miraculously stumbled upon whilst running away from the unknown creature. “What the fuck is that?!”

“It’s dead, as soon as I figure out how to kill it,” Rick said, his chest heaving as he tried to recapture his breath. He leaned forward and rested his hands on his knees, closing his eyes as he attempted to get his ducks in a row.

“Holy mother of fucking shit,” you mumbled hoarsely as you rushed towards the window, unofficially becoming the lookout to alert the others if you saw that thing. “Did you see the colour of that thing’s eyes?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware I was supposed to be paying attention to its eyes,” Maggie started in a sarcastic tone of voice, although you could clearly note the small tremble in her words. “I was more focused on its fangs. Y’know, the same fangs that almost took a chunk from my leg!”

“My eyes were on its backbones,” Glenn whispered in disgust, a shiver rolling over his spine. “What kind of dog looks like that? Acts like that? Is it rabid or something?”

“Nah, it ain’t rabid,” Daryl finally spoke up, instantly gaining everyone’s attention. “Ain’t a dog, neither.”

Rick stepped forward, his blue eyes staring into those of his found brother, desperately seeking his expertise on your current predicament. “You know what that thing is?” When Daryl simply nodded, Rick continued. “What is it?”

Daryl hesitated for a moment. His eyes flickered over to you and Glenn for a split second, before he shook his head and exhaled deeply. “Ya remember that story I told y’all way back when? When we were all gathered ‘round the campfire?”

Recognition dawned on you. “You don’t think—”

“It can’t be,” Glenn cut you off, firmly shaking his head. “They aren’t real. They can’t be.”

Daryl scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, ya got a better explanation for what that thing is, Rhee?”

As Daryl and Glenn bickered back and forth, a quiet scratch on the door captured your attention. Frowning, you pushed yourself away from the window, and slowly made your way over to the door. Your heart was pounding against your ribcage as you approached the door, leaning your ear against the wood to attempt to decipher what had made the noise. You did not want to instantly assume the worst, but every instinct in your body was yelling at you to run, that the not-so-dog was beyond the door, waiting to pounce.

“What are y’all talking about?” Maggie chipped in, confusion lacing her tone of voice. “What is that thing? Or what isn’t it?”

“It ain’t a walker, that’s for damn sure,” Daryl muttered, his steely gaze flickering between Glenn, Maggie and Rick, before resting on you. His eyebrows furrowed as he regarded the terrified look on your face, every sense in his body on high alert. “Y/N? What—”

A loud crash came from the window, shards of glass littering across the floor. A loud yelp escaped Maggie as Glenn pulled her back from the threat that lurked a mere few feet away, and Daryl whipped around with his crossbow raised high. He shot an arrow towards the dog-like creature, the arrow hitting its mark in the creature’s head. However, despite what should have been a lethal shot, the creature was fine. If anything, the shot had simply served to piss the creature off, the dog-monster creeping towards all of you, low growls escaping its mouth as its crimson eyes glared up at all of you.

“Shit!” Daryl cursed loudly as he attempted to reload his crossbow. However, before Daryl’s fingertips could even graze against another arrow, the creature lunged towards him. Daryl fell over onto his back, the monster’s long, rotting fangs trying to bite into the archer, but the younger Dixon brother refused to go out without a fight. Daryl held the creature’s mouth away from him with his hands, but it was clear that he was fighting a battle he was sure to lose in the end.

In a desperate attempt to save Daryl, Glenn, Maggie and Rick each began firing shots towards the monster. You would have joined too, but you quickly realized that your gun was not on your person anymore. You must have dropped it somewhere in the forest while initially running away from the very creature that stood before you. However, you realized that even if you did have your gun on you, it would not have been of any help. Despite the multiple bullets that were being fired into its head, face, stomach, and its back, the creature’s relentless onslaught to take a bite from Daryl did not cease.

The dog-like creature appeared to be unkillable.

You were desperately trying to wrack your brain to find a solution. Daryl would not be able to keep the monster’s fangs away from him much longer. He had already been running on a mere two hours of sleep, and had taken quite the hit while fighting of walkers, so you knew the archer’s resistance was wearing thin.

One after the other, Rick, Glenn and Maggie’s weapons made their uselessness known with resounding clicks that filled the air. You knew that a solution needed to be found, and fast. Daryl’s life depended on it.

Grabbing the nearest object—an iron rod—you rushed forward and began striking the monster with all your might, completely disregarding your own safety. The need to help the archer overtook every ounce of survival instinct in you. You could not let Daryl die. That was out of the question.

Miraculously, the first blow with the iron rod sent the creature flying back. However, you did not stop there. You rushed forward and continued your relentless onslaught on the monster, delivering blow after blow to its body. Admittedly, the small, pained whimper it let out right before its ultimate demise had you feeling sorry for it, but the knowledge that this thing had tried to kill the man you loved drowned out any guilt you felt towards killing it. With one final sickening blow to its head, the creature fell silent, its last breath leaving its body before its death.

The iron rod fell out of your grasp and to the ground below with a loud clank. Your chest was heaving as you looked down at the dog-like monster with wide eyes, fully taking in its appearance. It indeed looked exactly like the archer had described it almost two years prior, and it dawned on you that what Daryl had said rung true; chupacabras exist. You had seen so with your own eyes.

The feeling of someone’s hand on your shoulder brought you back to reality. You raised your head and locked eyes with your partner, his ocean eyes holding a mix of gratitude, disbelief, and a slight mix of fear. He had just looked death right in the face, and only narrowly escaped its clutches.

Completely disregarding the fact that public displays of affection made him uncomfortable, he gathered you into his arms, holding you tightly in his embrace. You did not cry, not about to do so in front of your peers, but Daryl could feel the tremble in your body. You had been afraid for him, for your group, and for yourself. Had you not grabbed that iron rod, you all would have been doomed. Daryl had read somewhere that iron was one of the only things that could hurt and potentially kill a chupacabra, and that theory had proven to be correct.

Exhaling deeply, Daryl shifted his attention towards Glenn, Maggie and Rick. He could clearly note the fear and disbelief on their faces, but that was not his main concern. For almost two years, everyone had laughed at his chupacabra encounter, calling it a lie. Although you did not believe him either, you never outrightly laughed in his face and called him a liar, and he appreciated that.

“See? I told y’all that I saw a chupacabra back then, ya fucks,” he breathed out, before lowering his voice and whispering to you. “Not ya, Sweetheart. That didn’t include you.”

“I know,” you mumbled against his chest, before withdrawing from his embrace and looking up at him. It was only then that you noticed the gash on his shoulder, and you gasped. “Daryl—”

“M’fine,” he cut you off. “I’ll let ya check on it once we get back to the prison, alright?” he reassured you, knowing that you would continue to put up a fight otherwise.

You nodded, choosing to accept that for the time being. “Okay.”

“Well, what the actual hell are we waiting for?” Glenn spoke up, his voice higher pitched than normal to fully show his distress. “Let’s go! I don’t wanna find out if these things travel in packs or something.”

“I agree. Let’s get the fuck outta here,” Rick agreed, already heading towards the door. “Even if that thing was the only one here, those gunshots sure as hell attracted walkers. We need to get going.”

“Okay,” Daryl agreed with a nod, glancing towards you. “Let’s go.”1

[lazyneonrabbitt]

YES LOVE OUR GRUMPY VAMPY MAN 💚💚💚

Bloody | Vamp!Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, sexual content, blood, accidental injuries.

A/N: Requested by @holdmytesseract. For week two of @lazyneonrabbitt’s Halloween challenge.

With a carefully practiced precession to ensure that he did not accidentally hurt you with his inhuman strength, Daryl lowered you onto the bed in your shared room, his lips never leaving yours. His hands clutched the hem of your shirt in a manner that bordered on desperate. The man’s usually slow beating heart beat faster than normal under the palm of your hand that rested on his chest, and his skin was flushed with a heat that far surpassed his usual body heat, which was slightly colder than the average person’s, but not entirely cold to the touch.

It was clear that your current predicament had begun to alter your partner’s mind, his movements turning more frantic, more fast-paced. Instead of merely removing the shirt over your head, he ripped it to shreds instead, his hands finally being able to feel the smoothness of your soft skin. The feeling of your flesh against his hands, paired with the delectably overwhelming smell of your amazing scent had his mind drifting off into the ether. So much so that he failed to notice his accidental slip up until a drop of blood found its way into his mouth.

The moment the taste of the delicious crimson he relied on for his survival infiltrated his senses, his eyes shot open and he instantly pulled himself away from you, scrambling off of the bed to put some distance between you both. He furiously wiped at his mouth, a futile attempt to rid himself of the mouthwatering taste of your blood. It was not been the first time that he had tasted your blood, but it was the first time where he had lost control of himself to the point where he accidentally hurt you like that.

“Dar, what’s wrong?” you asked him, still breathless from your mind altering make out session with your partner, moving yourself to sit up on the bed.

The sound of your angelic voice snapped Daryl out of his thoughts. His ocean-coloured eyes—now painted with specks of red in them—peered at you from behind his hair. His breathing was ragged, both from your prior activities and the fact that he was attempting to hold himself at bay and control his slowly growing hunger.

“Fuck. M’so goddamn sorry, Sweetheart,” Daryl apologized to you, his eyes showing sincere remorse at the accident. He had not realized that his fangs had elongated. That was the reason your lip had been nicked, and was now bleeding. Because of him. “I swear, I didn’t mean for that to happen. I’d never take yer blood without yer permission. M’not like that.”

You were confused at his words. However, when you brought your hand up to your lip, you winced as your finger made contact with your busted lip, and you knew what he was talking about. And you did not blame him in the slightest. If anything, the minor accident kind of turned you on even more. Daryl’s fangs only ever made an appearance during sex when he was getting drunk on your scent. More often than not, he would lightly scrape his fangs over your body as he went down, but never hard enough to leave an injury.

This was the first time that had happened.

After a moment of silence, you let out a small giggle, confusing Daryl entirely. “What?” he inquired gruffly.

You shook your head, your laugh dying down into a small smile. “Nothing. You’re just so adorable.” Before he could protest, you stood up from the bed, shaking off the last remnants of your destroyed shirt, and walked over to him. You looped your arms around his neck and pressed your body against his, your lower half making contact with his hard erection. You successfully elicited a small groan from him, making you smirk slightly.

“You have nothing to apologize for. It was an accident. I didn’t even realize it happened until you pointed it out.” You leaned forward to whisper in his ear, your tone low and seductive. “Besides, you know I don’t mind if you take some of my blood. I was gonna suggest you do that, anyway. But not on my lip. I was gonna say somewhere more…” You took one of his hands in yours and guided it down, letting it hover right above the clothed skin of your cunt. “...enjoyable for us both.”

Your words barely had time to sit in the air. You were hoisted off of your feet and practically flung back onto the bed. A light laugh escaped your chest, and you smiled at the sight of Daryl clambering back to hover over you, his hands clumsily but eagerly working to free you of your jeans.

When you were left in nothing but your bra, Daryl moved up to slant his mouth across yours for a gentle kiss. His tongue swiped over your bottom lip a few times, his spit coating your mouth. When he was satisfied, he pulled back and stared down at you, a small, lopsided smile on his face.

“S’gon’ make sure yer lip heals faster,” he explained, although it was unnecessary. You were well aware of the healing attributes his saliva held.

“Daryl, please stop worrying about a small cut on my lip and just fuck me already.”

Daryl chuckled at your impatient tone. He pressed one last kiss to your lips before pulling away again. “Yes, ma’am.”

[holdmytesseract]

Eeeeeep! I ABSOLUTELY LOVED THIS! 😍 Your vamp!Daryl is such a cutie patootie, ugh. 🥹

“Fuck. M’so goddamn sorry, Sweetheart,” Daryl apologized to you, his eyes showing sincere remorse at the accident. He had not realized that his fangs had elongated. That was the reason your lip had been nicked, and was now bleeding. Because of him. “I swear, I didn’t mean for that to happen. I’d never take yer blood without yer permission. M’not like that.”

Somebody hold my hand, that's SO cute. 😭💖 What a precious bb. 🥹

Daryl chuckled at your impatient tone. He pressed one last kiss to your lips before pulling away again. “Yes, ma’am.”

Holy guacamole... The 'Yes, ma'am.' triggered that one memory, and now I'm like squeaking inside my pillow. 🥴

Thank you SO much for writing this! You're amazing and I treasure you a lot! 💚

Also, this is super random but... Why does vamp!Daryl ALWAYS makes me think of Scud...

Bloody | Vamp!Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, sexual content, blood, accidental injuries.

A/N: Requested by @holdmytesseract. For week two of @lazyneonrabbitt’s Halloween challenge.

With a carefully practiced precession to ensure that he did not accidentally hurt you with his inhuman strength, Daryl lowered you onto the bed in your shared room, his lips never leaving yours. His hands clutched the hem of your shirt in a manner that bordered on desperate. The man’s usually slow beating heart beat faster than normal under the palm of your hand that rested on his chest, and his skin was flushed with a heat that far surpassed his usual body heat, which was slightly colder than the average person’s, but not entirely cold to the touch.

It was clear that your current predicament had begun to alter your partner’s mind, his movements turning more frantic, more fast-paced. Instead of merely removing the shirt over your head, he ripped it to shreds instead, his hands finally being able to feel the smoothness of your soft skin. The feeling of your flesh against his hands, paired with the delectably overwhelming smell of your amazing scent had his mind drifting off into the ether. So much so that he failed to notice his accidental slip up until a drop of blood found its way into his mouth.

The moment the taste of the delicious crimson he relied on for his survival infiltrated his senses, his eyes shot open and he instantly pulled himself away from you, scrambling off of the bed to put some distance between you both. He furiously wiped at his mouth, a futile attempt to rid himself of the mouthwatering taste of your blood. It was not been the first time that he had tasted your blood, but it was the first time where he had lost control of himself to the point where he accidentally hurt you like that.

“Dar, what’s wrong?” you asked him, still breathless from your mind altering make out session with your partner, moving yourself to sit up on the bed.

The sound of your angelic voice snapped Daryl out of his thoughts. His ocean-coloured eyes—now painted with specks of red in them—peered at you from behind his hair. His breathing was ragged, both from your prior activities and the fact that he was attempting to hold himself at bay and control his slowly growing hunger.

“Fuck. M’so goddamn sorry, Sweetheart,” Daryl apologized to you, his eyes showing sincere remorse at the accident. He had not realized that his fangs had elongated. That was the reason your lip had been nicked, and was now bleeding. Because of him. “I swear, I didn’t mean for that to happen. I’d never take yer blood without yer permission. M’not like that.”

You were confused at his words. However, when you brought your hand up to your lip, you winced as your finger made contact with your busted lip, and you knew what he was talking about. And you did not blame him in the slightest. If anything, the minor accident kind of turned you on even more. Daryl’s fangs only ever made an appearance during sex when he was getting drunk on your scent. More often than not, he would lightly scrape his fangs over your body as he went down, but never hard enough to leave an injury.

This was the first time that had happened.

After a moment of silence, you let out a small giggle, confusing Daryl entirely. “What?” he inquired gruffly.

You shook your head, your laugh dying down into a small smile. “Nothing. You’re just so adorable.” Before he could protest, you stood up from the bed, shaking off the last remnants of your destroyed shirt, and walked over to him. You looped your arms around his neck and pressed your body against his, your lower half making contact with his hard erection. You successfully elicited a small groan from him, making you smirk slightly.

“You have nothing to apologize for. It was an accident. I didn’t even realize it happened until you pointed it out.” You leaned forward to whisper in his ear, your tone low and seductive. “Besides, you know I don’t mind if you take some of my blood. I was gonna suggest you do that, anyway. But not on my lip. I was gonna say somewhere more…” You took one of his hands in yours and guided it down, letting it hover right above the clothed skin of your cunt. “...enjoyable for us both.”

Your words barely had time to sit in the air. You were hoisted off of your feet and practically flung back onto the bed. A light laugh escaped your chest, and you smiled at the sight of Daryl clambering back to hover over you, his hands clumsily but eagerly working to free you of your jeans.

When you were left in nothing but your bra, Daryl moved up to slant his mouth across yours for a gentle kiss. His tongue swiped over your bottom lip a few times, his spit coating your mouth. When he was satisfied, he pulled back and stared down at you, a small, lopsided smile on his face.

“S’gon’ make sure yer lip heals faster,” he explained, although it was unnecessary. You were well aware of the healing attributes his saliva held.

“Daryl, please stop worrying about a small cut on my lip and just fuck me already.”

Daryl chuckled at your impatient tone. He pressed one last kiss to your lips before pulling away again. “Yes, ma’am.”