#twd season 11

[darylmydix]

He’s so unnecessarily fine. The way he’s just rubbing his chin, death glaring Sebastian got me like: 👁️🫦👁️

[incertaepersonae]

Daryl: u ok?

Y/n: hm? Yeah.

It's just this place... I don't know, I don't like it here.

Daryl: -m? Why?

Y/n: I mean.. this ...This community . Is this supposed to be another "safe place?" As if.. Woodbury was supposed to be a safe place. Remember the Governor ? Terminus was supposed to be a safe place. And what we got? Frickin' cannibals! Alexandria... Hill House and Gregory and the Saviours. No. Just... I can't trust them.

I'm telling you, I just..I have a really bad feeling about this place. And don't get me started on Hornsby.

Daryl:

Y/n : what? I'm just saying th-

Daryl: do you trust me?

Y/n: always.

Daryl: then stop worryin'.

Y/n *suspiciously*: you have a plan!

Daryl: maybe.

Y/n: tell me!

Daryl: no.

Y/n: why?

Daryl: s'not the right time. Yer' shadow's here. Behind ya.

Y/n: what sh-

Sebastian: Y/n!!! Long time no see!

Y/n: does your plan involves killing him? Please, say yes.

Daryl: uhuh, absolutely.

Y/n: well, finally some good fucking news!

[roadkillremi]

A better man

Negan X F!Reader

Era - S10/11

Summary: After being stuck in a cabin with Negan, things got hot and heavy. Is there regret or enjoyment?

Warnings : Minors DNI, Legal Age Gap (Negan is in his 50s, Reader is in their 30s) , mentions Reader's and her ex's having bad fights (mentions leaving a bruise), unprotected sex, language, p in V, the pet name Doll, mentions rubbing poison ivy on hickey, the whole smut is a flashback of "yesterday night".

A/N : My first Negan fic <3. Also a couple of side notes ; Reader calls Negan Carl's and Ricks killer, I know this isn't true. It is more of the way she viewed him during S7/8. There's no use of 'Y/N', Negan refers to the reader as "Doll". Italics are used for past quotes

There were no words once you went inside the house. Your brain scrabbled with the thought of him. Your backpack slid off your shoulders leaving a thud on the ground. It laid by the entrance next to some abandoned shoes.

"You're back!" Judith and RJ ran towards you giving you a hug. You smile kneeling down to their level.

"Sorry it took me so long..." You wrapped your arms around them. You heard a creak behind you, you turned around to find Michonne. She stood in the doorway looking down at you.

"I said To be as quick as possible." She muttered. Your chest wrenches with guilt, "We were surrounded.". Michonne nodded and stepped closer, she took a good look at you.

"What the hell is that?" She pointed at your neck. You quickly reached your hand to the spot she pointed.

"What?"

"That better not be what I think it is.." she walked away. Her kids followed behind her like little ducks. You quickly went into the bathroom moving your neck around.

There it was.

A cherry red spot on your neck, your heart rate quickened. You said no hickeys, you shut your eyes hoping you're imagining things. Flashes of last night just flood your vision.

His hands roamed your body, touching you so gently. It was a mistake, you didn't mean for things to build up. You were surrounded by dead sacks of shit. It grew colder and less safe for you two to head back. You two barricaded the windows and locked the doors. He placed his crowbar by the door and sat on the couch kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

After all these years I barely know shit about you, sweetheart.

That's what led the two of you to share stories. Stories you wouldn't dare share with anyone else. He knew about your shitty ex boyfriends, the shameful hook ups. The terrible fights you'd have with said shitty ex boyfriends that ended in bruises.

If they were still alive I'd beat the shit of them

In return, he told you all about Lucille and her death. Teary eyed he stared down at you waiting for a response. You weren't sure how to react, so you hugged him. You whispered sweet nothing's into his ear.

I bet she loved you so much.

Then you two kissed in a fit of passion. Your senses are overruled by the longing of a man's touch. Undressing each other as quickly as possible. He laid you down on the old couch, his lips exploring every curve. You patted his shoulder signalling for him to stop. He looked up at you his lips pink with saliva coating them.

Before we continue we need ground rules... Don't release your fucking seed in me. Don't leave marks. Got it?

Fuck yeah, doll.

Just like that he was on top of you, his forehead on yours. He looked into your eyes watching you whimper and moan. His smug smile didn't leave his face once, he chuckled to himself before speaking.

God, this pussy is so Fucking good! No man should teach you like shit..

You pulled him down by the nape of his neck. His lips smash into yours as his beard tickles your chin. He leaned down leaving kisses all around your neck. His teeth teasingly digging into your skin, him leaving the hickey...

He made sure you finished first, holding himself back until your release coated his cock. He pulled out of you before he could spill his seed. You reached in between the two of your bodies. Your hand pumped his shaft helping him chase his orgasm. He thrusted into your hand his head tilting back. You placed kisses on his collarbone and traveled down to his tattoo. His come falling onto your torso, he groaned.

Shit, Doll... Lemme clean you up.

He grabbed his t-shirt whipping your torso off. He tossed it back into the ground before laying on top of you. His head rested on your chest as one of his hands rubbed up and down your thigh.

You buried your face into your hands. You can't do this, Think about Rick, Glenn, Carl, Abraham. They saved you, you were their family, and you slept with their killer. You focused on your racing heart, he's a changed man. You had to get rid of the hickey before anyone else sees it.

You stormed out the house grabbing your ax on the way out. You head towards the gate, your heart echoing into your ears. Negan noticed you stomping towards the gate, he got up from the steps he was sitting at. He followed you with curiosity plan on his face.

"Where are you off to? We just got back." He grinned. You didn't look at him, "To find poison ivy.". He's taken back by your response, " 'cuse me?". You sigh moving any hair in the way to show your neck.

"You got sloppy last night. Will someone open this damn Gate?!" You fussed. A man rushed towards the gate opening it for you.

"Whoa whoa, doll. Slow down you're gonna rub poison ivy on yourself?!" He grabbed your shoulders getting Infront of you. He leaned down to your height, the greyness in his hair shining in your eyes.

"Yes.. I told you not to leave marks." You start walking out the gate pushing into his shoulder. He follows you back out the gate, "Back in my day girls used makeup." He tries to lighten up your mood. You sigh, "Negan.. I told you I can't.. no one can know.".

"What happened to you saying I was a better man?" He leaned on his leg a hint of hurt in his voice. You looked down, a bit ashamed of yourself.

"You are.." you whispered. He walked towards you, "I get it, I'm not a fan favorite out here. But Doll, talk to me.".

"You hurt my family. And me sleeping with you is... Like betraying them" you mumbled. He sighs, "I... I don't regret it. Hell, it was probably the best sex I've ever had... But.." you lose your voice. You look out into the overgrown neighborhood.

"I'll keep it a secret." He speaks up. You turned towards him with hope in your eyes.

"But, don't ignore me. I wanna see that pretty face of yours often." He gently grabs your chin lifting it up. You look into his hazel eyes feeling your heart flutter.

The same eyes that cherished the sight of your body. You leaned into his touch, "Alright. But help me find poison ivy-" you smiled.

"Yes ma'am." He grinned walking into the woods with you. His hand went to the small of your back as the ground became rougher. You smiled to yourself thinking of the night before, this time willingly.

[loganlostitall]

Eugene: *dramatic vocabulary for saying he’s lying*

Daryl: *literally just embodying this emoji*

🧍🧍🧍

Like he’s literally just…

[xoxo-sarah]

can you do a one shot for daryl where the reader has really bad hiccups and they're in a meeting or a public place and she gets really embarrassed about it and like slaps a hand over her mouth to try and stop it but she can't and everyone's staring at her and it's a comfort fic bc he basically excuses her out and helps her

Rabbit Questions

↝a/n: I am not meaning to have my Daryl fics related to rabbits/bunnies. It's just a coincidence.

↝pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader (could be platonic or romantic)

↝ Warning: not proofread, not proofread, set in season 11, Commonwealth

↝⎙ 9.15.23

"And this one- beautiful, isn't it?" Pamela stood in front of a wall with a huge frame, a painting of A orange flower, the pedal reminded you of flames. It was pretty, really. And you weren't just thinking that because Pamela was in front of you, watching your face for any expression that said otherwise. The artist standing beside the painting could have something to do with it, too.

For some reason, Pamela Milton and Lance Hornsby had made it very clear you, Daryl, and Rosita came to view the art gallery, she had called it. It all felt weird, walking up and down the halls to look at all the art with eyes watching your every move. Pamela had stepped up to point out every detail while Lance just watched from the distance.

This is just so different from having to clean out walkers from buildings to show your worth, pretty much. Instead of blood on concrete, it was homemade paint on a canvas.

The paintings were pretty, really, but it just felt like they were being pushed down your throat. It was new, refreshing, a new beginning. You weren't one for change.

"Michelle here has many pieces of art here." The older woman smiled at the woman standing by the wall, a tight-lipped smile of her own on her face. Pamela pointing at a canvas towards the corner. "She's had quite the life. Painting helped her get all the built-up aggression out in some way,"

Did she actually care about what this girl had been through, or was it a front to seem like the most amazing and caring person ever?

"I felt for her, i really did." There she was, putting on a front just to make it all about her. Of course.

"When I met Michelle, i was going through-"

Hic!

Eyes, going wide, you glanced at Daryl and Rosita. They glanced at you but looked back, trying to seem interested. Pamela, looked at you for a moment, before turning to Michelle.

"As I was saying-"

Hic! "I am so sorry." you put up a hand to excuse the hiccup fit. It was one after another, and to be quite honest, it was starting to hurt your diaphragm. Your hand went you to your ribs, trying to ease the hiccups away.

A particularly loud hiccup had Pamela give you a disapproving look.

"Excuse us." Daryl's hand went to your elbow, half-heartedly excusing you two. He didn't really care if they had a problem with you walking away.

He led you by your arm to the open door, the fresh air fully hitting your blushing cheeks.

"Good lord." He grumbled, watching as your body moved with yet another hiccup. "Put yer arms over yer head or hold yer breath or somethin'."

You puffed your cheeks out, holding your breath. Daryl simply watched, waiting.

Hic!

it was muffled, but still had you huffing out.

Daryl just looked at you, before he smiled in amusement. He moved to sit down on the steps to the building, out of the way of the traffic of people. Patting an empty spot next to him, he motioned for you to sit.

"When's the last time you saw a rabbit?"

Confused, you could only look at him. He nodded, waiting for you to answer. You looked away, actually thinking about it. "I don't know." You couldn't remember the last time you saw a rabbit off the top of your head. It was probably one you had to kill to feed yourself, anyway.

"Probably a year?"

"What color was it?"

"What are you on about?"

He twirled his hair around and out of his face, the smile from earlier still lingering. "Still got hiccups?"

Your eyes widened again. They were gone.

"Carol told me that one. It was that or scaring ya."

The picture of Daryl and his dear friend talking about rabbits to get rid of hiccups was cute. Maybe it had been Daryl who had hiccups and Carol asked him the same questions.

"I prefer the rabbit questions." You smiled, looking out at the people walking freely around the Commanwealth.

"Should we go back in?"

"No." he was quick to answer. "If I see another bright flower, I'm gonna pluck my eyes out."

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [!I don't give permission!]

[jamiejabbers]

Quiet Strength

Pairings: Kelly twd x reader, Daryl x daughter!reader

(im sharing my Kelly obsession because i really like this one, i hope you guys do too!!)

I never thought I’d find peace in this world, let alone love. Growing up, love was something that hurt. I saw it in the way my uncle Merle treated people, especially when he’d had too much to drink, which was most of the time. Love meant shouting, breaking things, and bruises that needed to be hidden. And Dad—Daryl—he never said much about love at all. He was always too busy trying to survive, to protect me in his own way. I think he didn’t know how to be anything else, or maybe he didn’t think he deserved to be.

For a long time, I thought that was normal. That’s what love looked like. Until Kelly came along.

I remember the first time I really noticed her—really saw her. We were out scavenging for food with a small group. The sun was sinking, painting the sky in blood and gold, and she was laughing at something Jerry had said. Her laughter was like a breath of fresh air in a world where every breath was tinged with decay. I remember feeling something inside me loosen, like a knot untying, a tension I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding onto.

At first, I didn’t know what to make of Kelly. She was always so… soft, and that scared me. She had this quiet strength, this way of moving through the world that wasn’t about force or fear. She could be fierce when she had to, but she didn’t seem to carry that same kind of anger I did, the kind that felt like it would boil over at any moment.

It took me a while to understand that softness could be a strength, too.

We spent more time together, Kelly and me. At first, it was little things—sharing watches, looking out for each other on runs. She had this way of looking at me, her eyes dark and warm, like she could see the parts of me I tried to hide. At first, I didn’t like it. It made me feel exposed, vulnerable. I’d always been taught that vulnerability was dangerous.

But Kelly didn’t push. She never forced me to talk, never made me feel like I had to explain myself. Instead, she showed me, in the quiet moments between the chaos, that love didn’t have to hurt. She’d brush a strand of hair out of my face with a touch so gentle I’d almost flinch, expecting something else, something harsher. But it never came. She’d smile, and I’d feel that knot inside me loosen just a little bit more.

I think the first time I realized how much she’d changed me was when we were out on a run, just the two of us. A walker came out of nowhere, and without thinking, I went to take it down the way I’d always been taught—with anger, with force. But before I could even raise my knife, Kelly was there, her hand on my arm, steady and calm.

“You don’t always have to fight so hard,” she said, her voice soft but sure.

I didn’t know how to respond to that. Fighting was all I knew, all I’d been taught. It was how I’d survived this long. But Kelly… she had this way of seeing the world that I didn’t understand yet. She didn’t see the dead around us as just threats to be destroyed. She saw them as reminders of the people we’d lost, of the world that used to be. And she fought, sure, but not with that same blind rage I had.

She taught me how to make traps, how to use the land around us to our advantage, how to find small joys even when everything felt like it was falling apart. She’d pull me aside to look at a flower growing in the middle of the road or point out the way the moonlight played on the water. She taught me that there were things worth living for, not just fighting against.

One night, after a particularly rough day, we sat by the fire, just the two of us. Dad was off on a run, and it was one of those rare moments when it felt like the world had gone quiet. I was lost in my own head, the memories of Merle, of the shouting and the fear, weighing heavy on my mind. Kelly leaned against me, her head resting on my shoulder.

“Love doesn’t have to be violent,” she whispered, like she’d read my thoughts. “It doesn’t have to be something that hurts.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I’d never thought about love that way. For so long, I’d been taught that love was just another word for pain. But Kelly… she made me want to believe in something different. She made me want to believe that maybe, just maybe, love could be something beautiful. Something that didn’t hurt.

Slowly, I started to open up. I told her about Merle, about Dad, about the way I used to flinch when someone raised their voice. She listened, really listened, with a patience I wasn’t used to. She didn’t judge, didn’t try to fix me. She just held my hand, her thumb brushing softly against my skin, and let me be.

And in her presence, I found something I never thought I would: peace. Not the kind that comes from knowing you’re safe—because in this world, you never are—but the kind that comes from knowing you’re loved, deeply and sincerely, for exactly who you are.

Kelly taught me that love didn’t have to be violent. It could be gentle, like the touch of her hand on my back, or sincere, like the way she’d look at me when she thought I wasn’t paying attention. She showed me that love could be something that healed, not something that scarred.

And for that, I’ll always be grateful. In a world filled with death and loss, she showed me what it meant to truly live. To love. And for the first time in my life, I felt like I could breathe.

[megdoodlestwd]

TWD 8x16

[eccentricallygothic]

seeing paul lahote in twd was not on my 2024 bingo card mates

[veesbees]

guys why why WHYYYY did Daryl have to leave. LIKE WHAT THE FUCK. i understand he's looking for a happy ending, but damn i AM BAWLING MY EYES OUT.

it also dosen't help that i watched Daryl Dixon season 1 way before i finished twd season 11 so oops i already know what happens. BUT FUCK YOU DARYL IN THE KINDEST WAY. FUCK YOU.

[jiyascepter]

˗ˏˋ➳ Daryl Dixon from The Walking Dead | headers

Requested by: @holdmytesseract

Thank you sm for this request @holdmytesseract, I had a lot of fun making these even tho I was so clueless about the show😂 I really hope you like what I came up with 🤍 I'll make changes if you want me to!

Do not repost

Reblog if you save & pls give credits

open the picture then download for better quality ✨

[littlefoxgirlhere]

WHAT DO U MEAN STEPHANIE IS NOT THE STEPHANIE???

man, twd is really surprising me, plot twist AND social criticism, I love it

[banshees-martin]

BRO I HATE LEAH SO MUCH LIKE UGHH THAT BITCH

[taeanakookmin]

Brandie's dog. My man deserved more screen time 💀

[bambidixon]

I'm currently rewatching season 11, and it physically hurts me not being able to hold and kiss Daryl. I need him so much.

Also, he's so a dad it's not even fun.

[usedbabi]

does anyone else find the storytelling/background stories of some zombies in the walking dead really interesting? i think every time i watch, it i notice something new about it.

[jamiejabbers]

I AM BEGGING SOMEONE TO WRITE FOR KELLY IN TWD MY GIRL IS SO UNDERRATED IM SURVIVING OFF CRUMBSS