just-always-tired

[just-always-tired]

[just-always-tired]

Take my collection,,,

[just-always-tired]

I’ve stopped watching twd years ago but I know what’s happening with the chaos surrounding Caryl. I just saw this:

Despite her exit, Reedus told Fallon that he is hopeful of McBride’s eventual return. “I imagine those characters are going to meet back up at some point..”

Just passing by to say that AMC has been doing this for years. Playing with their audience and being disrespectful of fans. They are announcing the D*aryl solo spinoff with the promise that someday Carol might join him as a way to keep you waiting. AGAIN. 🤡 

Don’t fall for that. Please, take care.

[just-always-tired]

👆👆👆👆👆👆

If Melissa McBride had wanted a break, AMC would have put that in the official release and all hell would not have broken out. They wouldn’t have any need for damage control. Fans would be upset, but understand. And that she may return.

But AMC didn’t put that in their release. They said she could not relocate to Europe. Which, by the way, had never been mentioned for the spin-off.

[just-always-tired]

THIS

Amc has strung fans from all parts of thr fandom along for years.

Don't let them away with it!!!

one last thing before i disappear for the night, just bc i didn't want to forget to put out this reminder:

don't just cancel amc+ and boycott 11c. don't watch any of it. don't watch the 700 different extended universes. fear, beyond, origins, up, down, left, right, whatever the fuck else they have now. don't watch "exclusive insider info." stay off their youtube channels. don't retweet/reblog promotional material. amc has spread the twd universe out super thin, using the marvel method of "if it's part of the universe, someone will watch it!" prove them wrong. i've joked that twd is the only show amc seems to have, but honestly, they've been pumping out content for the sake of pumping out content for years now

carylers are not the only ppl they've screwed. they've been dangling a carrot out for rick stans/richonne shippers since the start of s9. they've completely fucked over maggie stans/gleggie shippers by putting negan and maggie on the same team (and same spin-off??). they have introduced and then immediately sidelined a shitton of characters, over and over again, a lot of whom are women, queer, or poc. they've sidelined ACTUAL BILLED ACTORS (ahem, melissa, ahem), or promised bigger roles to characters who have been there for years, only to pretty much forget their existence. melissa getting kicked off the spin-off is not a caryl-centric issue. it is a catalyst to highlight a bigger problem

it would be so easy for this to turn into a shipwar--the network would LOVE IT if that's what this dissolved into--but for once in our gd lives we are all on the same side here, even we aren't all aware of it yet

carylers are heading this project, sure, but listen--everyone in the twd fandom is here bc some part of it resonates with them, some part has their heart. well, creative control is being taken away from the actors, writers, and showrunners who care about it as much as we do. we're all victims here

so make them regret it. if you want to watch twd, pirate it. don't watch it on amc or netflix (or other streaming, idk if it's on different services outside of the usa)

in the scheme of the everything that is happening in the world all the time, this might seem like a relatively small and petty issue, but the truth is that any demonstration against a larger establishment that ends in victory becomes a model for others in the future. today we fight for melissa, and kang, and characters we love, but if we accomplish that, then tomorrow we can fight for wage equality for actresses, or fight streaming services when they make more and more surcharges despite being billion dollar companies, etc

small things matter. they matter a fucking lot. so cancel, boycott, unsubscribe, and while you're at it, lower your pitchforks aimed at each other, and point them in the direction of the people who deserve it

we are so much stronger as a unit, my dudes, so let's all sit down at the table together. we're serving the rich for supper

/soapbox (for now)

-diz

[just-always-tired]

THIS.

We don't hate Norman we just want Mel back❤️

A very special thanks to everybody who participated in our first highly successful blitz last night. Also, shoutout to anon (you know who you are) for continuously providing tips and resources. Our work is not going unnoticed, and to think we’re just getting started too. Updates will be sent via email tonight, so be on the lookout. In the meantime, there is a timely matter to discuss. 

Norman is scheduled to appear on Fallon tonight, and we don’t know how much or little he’ll be able to say. Regardless, I on behalf of WAAC would like to make it abundantly clear that the movement is NOT boycotting Norman. And therefore, any hostility toward him directly or other fans on social media will not be tolerated. I understand people have thoughts and questions and opinions, but that behavior only serves to perpetuate AMC’s narrative that Carylers are toxic and we cannot have that. If we want to save Caryl, we cannot alienate half of the ship. Myself, Lauren, and Ru are so proud of the overwhelming positivity, love, support, and respect we showed last night. Let’s keep that up. 

[just-always-tired]

I've just opened a Carol/Caryl account over on twitter as @twd_queenCarol and could do with some TWD moots if anyone wants to follow me I'll follow back 🥰🥰

[just-always-tired]

I know I'm not the first person to write something to this effect but I'm going to say it anyway.

What people need to realise is that Carol Peletier is more than just "Daryl Dixon's Soulmate" to so many of us.

She is a survivor of abuse turned warrior who was a beacon of light to so many.

Melissa is an inspiration to all women who was able to show that you're not "past it" once you hit 30.

We're not only upset because our ship is probably not going to happen now after years of baiting.

We're devastated that we were told for 2 years that we were going to have more time with her and now that has been snatched away.

We're devastated because she is marketed as the leading lady but has had barely 20 minutes of screentime this entire season.

We're devastated because she has been FORCED from the spin off. She hasn't exited, she was forced FULL STOP. it was the Carol and Daryl spin off. That means they were both supposed to be equals. If both cast members were equals they wouldn't move filming to another country, fuck, another continent when it wasn't suitable for one of the two leads.

We're devastated because after so many years of loyalty to this absolute shit show we feel that we have been strung along and hung out to dry.

We're devastated because Carol deserved better.

We're devastated because Melissa McBride deserves better.

[just-always-tired]

I'm sorry but I thought the whole fucking point of Diverged was to show that Carol and Daryl need to be together and everything goes wrong when they're not and then they pull this shite????

Mel deserved better than this.

Fuck AMC.

[just-always-tired]

Petition to scratch s11 from the record and have the fans rewrite it bc I really have lost all faith in Kang to give us a half decent ending

[just-always-tired]

Does anyone have a link for episode 16? I'm in Scotland and can't get amc+ and wanna watch it before it's completely spoiled for me

Help a gal out🙏❤️

[just-always-tired]

The thing that frustrates me most about TWD and mainly Caryl is coming on here and reading all the amazing fan theories and predictions and just knowing that the writers would/could never be that creative.

[just-always-tired]

One reblog and I’ll get this Cherokee Rose inspired doodle tattooed on me when I go to the tattoo place next month

[just-always-tired]

Family Matters

Masterlist

Summary: Any good leader knows you gotta have a right-hand man. Rick Grimes has two, and one of them is a right-hand woman– the closest thing to a kid sister he’s ever had. Rick trusts Daryl and Y/N with his life, but he’d never paid too much attention to how much they trust each other until Y/N gets hurt and Rick is forced to consider the possibility that there might be something more than just trust between his lieutenants…

(A/N: A new Daryl x Reader fic! WHOOOHOOOO! This one is something I’ve never tried before– writing from a POV that’s outside the two main characters – but I had a great time with it and I hope you’ll all enjoy. As always, let me know what you think! <3) 

The walls were a bitch to fix. 

Rick understood the mechanics of it– lifting up the metal sheets and using the beams to reinforce them – but understanding didn’t make the work any easier. Today it was just him and Abraham and Tobin, grunting and straining with effort as they lifted one of the section replacements into place.

There was only one more section left to fix after this one, and Rick wanted to get it done today. Sure, getting the barriers back up meant he could reduce the number of people on guard duty, which would allow for more people working on finishing rebuilding, scavenging, and the never-ending to-do list that came with surviving. 

But finishing the wall also meant moving on. 

Physically, it ensured the community’s safety, but there was a symbolic element to it as well. He knew that. Once it was up, everyone would be more at ease. Rick wanted his people to feel safe. It bred trust and cooperativeness. At ease was good, as long as it didn’t turn into complacency. 

Though judging by the way Alexandria had shaped up since the herd, he wasn’t too worried. 

The group of wide-eyed, naive daydreamers they’d been when he arrived were long gone. Those who survived had learned the most important truth about the world– you have to work to survive. 

With the first reinforcing beam in place, Rick took a step back, wiping sweat from his brow. He heard the rumble of the gate opening, followed by the chink of the outter fence being pulled back. 

A car rolled slowly out, stopping on the street beyond as a figure walked out after it. With his hand raised to block the bright morning sun, Rick could see Daryl in the driver’s seat and Glenn riding shotgun.

Y/N, who’d been the one behind the car, changed course and jogged over to the little construction site. 

“Hey,” She nodded to Tobin and Abraham, offering each a smile in greeting before turning back to Rick. “We’re heading out. The plan is to hit that storage unit off 95 near Franconia. It’s not too far, so we should be back by tonight.” 

Rick nodded. 

If a different group had been going out, he might have asked for more specifics about their plan – did they know the layout, had they scouted it before, etc. – but if anyone knew what they were doing, it was those three. 

Still, old habits die hard.

“Be careful, alright?” He intoned. 

She snapped her fingers, shaking her head. “Damn! I was gonna be all reckless and stupid, but now that you’ve said that…” 

Rick shook his head, waving her off. “Get outta here.” 

“You got it, Sheriff.” She said, giving him a lazy salute before jogging back over to the car. 

Rick watched as she slid into the backseat, Daryl turning to say something to her before she leaned forward and slapped his arm. Squinting, Rick thought he could make out a smile on the archer’s face as he put the car into gear and drove off. 

Yeah, they’d be fine.

“She always been like that?” Abraham asked, and Rick turned to see him watching the car leave too. 

Keep reading

[just-always-tired]

A Little Longer

Summary: (Set sometime during Alexandria) Daryl leads the reader on a trek through the forest, promising an end worth waiting for.

A/N: I swear this story took on a mind of its own - it just sorta...happened? But anywho, I hope you guys enjoy it, and be sure to tell me your thoughts once you've finished it! I appreciate y'all and your beautiful feedback more than anything!

Happy reading! :)

xx Jess

Masterlist

Tip Jar

“Are we almost there?” you called ahead, ducking beneath a low-hanging branch.

Daryl glanced back at you from over his shoulder. “Jus’ a lil’ longer,” he rasped, waving you forward, a somewhat mischievous gleam in his eye.

“Oh, come on. Will you at least tell me where we’re going?” you pried, feigning exasperation because deep down, you couldn’t deny the curiosity — and eagerness — that’d begun to bubble in your chest.

“Told ya, it’s a surprise,” he rumbled simply in response, stepping over an exposed tree root and heading deeper into the woods.

You huffed a breath, watching the gentle sway of his broad shoulders, memorizing the messy cross-stitching of angel wings patched onto the back of his vest. “You know, you never struck me as the ‘surprising’ type,” you shot back, the forest terrain shifting into more of an incline.

“Yeah?” he grunted, somehow keeping up his steadfast pace despite the sudden shift in altitude. “An’ what did I strike ya as?”

“Hostile,” you laughed, attempting to conceal the fact that you were growing increasingly out of breath.

Daryl paused mid-stride, shooting you an unamused look. “Funny,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes — though he remained rooted in place until you managed to catch up, a fondness in his gaze that stole your breath for an entirely different reason.

“How — are you — not dying?” you panted between breaths, your thighs burning, the pebbled rocks beneath you digging into the worn soles of your shoes. “If I had known — we were scaling — Mount-fucking-Everest — I would’ve come better prepared.”

The archer smirked before nudging you gently with his elbow. “C’mon, we’re almost there,” he rasped, turning without another word and continuing his climb up the steepening incline.

You planted your hands on your hips, watching as he smoothly and effortlessly traversed upward. “That’s what you said an hour ago, you know!” you yelled after him, wiping away the sweat that’d formed on your brow with the crook of your elbow. “Alright,” you whispered, attempting to psyche yourself up. “Come on, Y/N, suck it up.”

You inhaled a deep breath, tilted your chin up, and pushed after the archer.

How Daryl had even found this place was beyond you — but despite the struggle, you merely grit your teeth together and barreled after the man, grabbing onto twisted tree trunks and ribbed ancient rocks to help propel you further up the hill. You dug the toes of your shoes into the mossy curves, the muddy grooves, all the while keeping your eyes straight ahead, working to keep your momentum up the cliffside.

And then, you saw it.

A break in the trees, warm, golden light pouring in from between the shadows just ahead.

Daryl clambered to the very top of the incline, immediately turning to look down at you, rather than what you could imagine being one hell of a view. “Alright, one las’ stretch,” he hollered down at you, his eyes alight with something so breathtaking you had to stop and commit the image to memory.

You shook away the warmth spreading through you, grabbing onto the nearest tree and resting your head against the trunk instead. “Hang on, give me a minute,” you exhaled, closing your eyes and breathing through the cramp that’d formed in your side.

“C’mon, jus’ a lil’ longer,” Daryl urged, the amusement in his tone evident.

You peeked one eye open, glaring at the man. “If you say that shit again, I’ll give you a buzz cut while you’re sleeping.”

Daryl’s eyes widened in the slightest before he ducked his head down, turning his face away from you as he began laughing — the sound was so rare, so genuine, you felt yourself grow misty-eyed.

The corner of his mouth quirked up into a smirk as he faced you once more, crouching down and extending his hand towards you.

You huffed a laugh of your own, sniffling softly as you shoved away the vulnerability that’d lingered. Moving purely off of adrenaline, you trudged up the final few yards before reaching for Daryl’s outstretched hand, his fingers wrapping around yours — calloused and rough and familiar.

He felt like home — in every sense of the word.

You were standing up beside him a moment later, red-faced and sweaty, hair gnarled like the trees you’d used to get to where you were.

And then Daryl stepped aside, unveiling the big surprise.

All of the air in your lungs escaped you in one big whoosh at the view before you. Miles and miles of untouched land sprawled out beneath the cliffside you stood atop of, towering trees and billowing bush. The sun had begun its descent in the distance, setting the world ablaze with brilliant oranges and yellows, the warmth kissing the softness of your cheeks.

You peered over at Daryl, surprised to see him watching you instead.

“Daryl,” you whispered, the word tangled up in your throat. “How did you — it’s beautiful.”

The archer glanced down as though his boots had become rather interesting. “Mhm,” he sounded, nodding his head once before looking up at you again, redness tinging his cheeks. “Reminded me a’ ya, I guess.”

Your lips curled up into a smile as you stepped towards him, reaching out and placing your palm against his cheek, brushing your thumb back and forth. He leaned into your touch, covering your hand with his own.

You pulled away then, shooting him one last cheeky grin before turning towards the view, walking closer towards the edge of the cliffside. You wanted to absorb as much of the hushed beauty as you could — one day, it would undoubtedly fall victim to the decaying world around it.

But for now, you simply breathed in the quiet.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” you murmured over your shoulder, hugging your arms around your center as you inhaled another deep breath, feeling more at peace than you had in a long time.

The archer hummed lowly in response before clearing his throat. “It’ll be dark soon,” he rasped from somewhere behind you. “Ya should start headin’ home.”

You raised a brow as if he could see it, laughing softly. “Don’t you mean ‘we’?”

Daryl was quiet for a long moment, so long you almost thought he hadn’t heard you. But then he sighed, soft and somber, and something deep within your gut willed you not to turn around. “We both know I ain’t really here, Y/N.”

The world stilled.

Splintering like shards of glass from a broken mirror, the fallout sliced at your skin as your heartbeat, strong and steady, pounded right behind your eardrums.

And then everything came rushing back to you.

You knew something was wrong before the shouting started.

You’d been crouched down, tending to one of Alexandria’s gardens when you’d heard it.

The blaring of a car horn, followed by a desperate cry.

“Open the goddamn gates!”

You jumped to your feet, your heart leaping to your throat because something was wrong — something was very wrong but you didn’t know what and you were on the opposite side of Alexandria.

So you took off.

You weaved between houses, sprinting after the sound of a roaring truck engine, the peeling of tires. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, because something was really fucking wrong and you had a sinking feeling in your gut that no amount of assuring thoughts would subside.

Panic clawed at your chest as you came to a screeching halt just outside the infirmary.

A white pickup truck was parked outside — the same one that’d been taken on a supply run earlier in the day. The same one you’d watched Daryl drive through the gates of Alexandria, his eyes having met yours in the rearview mirror one last time before the fences shut behind him.

But you couldn’t focus on that — you couldn’t focus on the people rushing from their homes, curious about the commotion, or the fact that the engine of the truck was still running, or that the doors were swung wide open.

No, you couldn’t focus on that because all you saw was red.

Stark, brilliant, redness.

Coating the seats of the truck, the doors, the windows.

The sight would’ve made you sick if you had anything in your stomach to throw up.

You took a shaky step forward…and then another and another, slowly approaching the infirmary. But the closer you neared, the farther away it seemed — because you knew.

Somehow, someway, you knew.

You stumbled closer to the house, the edges of your vision blurred — but you had to know, you had to see for yourself.

Except when you reached the porch stairs, Rick appeared, barreling through the front door and grabbing onto the porch railing for support — pale-faced, eyes rimmed red, his expression only furthering the dread that’d latched onto your bones. He looked down at you — no, through you — his mouth opening and closing though no words came out.

You slowly climbed up the stairs, your body moving on autopilot. But before you could reach the door, Rick suddenly moved in front of you.

“Y/N —”

“It’s him,” you whispered, your own voice sounding foreign and far away like it was someone else speaking entirely. “It’s him, isn’t it?”

You attempted to sidestep the sheriff, but he followed your movements, grabbing onto either of your shoulders. “Let’s — let’s sit ya down, alright?”

You tried to shake him off, but his grip merely tightened, his fingertips grounding you but damn it, you didn’t want to be grounded. You didn’t want to be there at all — you wanted to be far, far away. You tried to pull loose again, your movements growing more desperate. “I need to see — let me — damn it, Rick, let me see him!” you screamed, bringing your hands up and shoving the sheriff backward.

The momentum of his body slamming against the front door swung it wide open. You pushed your way inside as Rick stumbled back to his feet, grabbing onto you once more. “Y/N, please —”

But it was too late.

You saw Glenn and Maggie first, huddled in the corner, wrapped around each other, their hands covered in more blood than you figured was humanly possible. Maggie wouldn’t look at you, her face buried in the crook of Glenn’s neck instead. Glenn, on the other hand, stared absently at the metal table in the center of the room.

Your gaze followed his.

And then you saw him.

Splayed out on his back, one hand draped over his chest, the other hanging off the table. His eyes were shut, his features still — you almost would’ve thought he was sleeping if it weren’t for the massive chunk of flesh missing from his throat.

He’d been bit.

Blood still oozed from the wound, forming into a small puddle near his head that’d begun to overflow and drip off the side of the table.

You were seeing, but not understanding.

This wasn’t real.

This couldn’t be real.

Not him.

“We got —” Glenn’s voice broke off as he roughly wiped away a tear that’d snaked down his cheek, leaving a streak of red instead. “We got overrun. They just — they came out of nowhere. And if he hadn’t — they almost got —” he glanced down at Maggie then, the woman stifling a sob against his chest, her fingers curling around the collar of his shirt.

You were hearing, but not listening.

This wasn’t real.

This couldn’t be real.

Not him.

You took a small step forward, then another and another until you were standing beside his unmoving form. You reached out, ignoring the way your hand trembled as you placed your palm gingerly against the side of his face, brushing your thumb back and forth against his pale skin. “Daryl,” you murmured, half-expecting him to answer because he always — always — showed up for you.

And you needed him now more than ever.

The room was too small, too stifling. You needed space. You needed to be alone with him. “Get out,” you whispered, feeling the room still. “Now,” you hissed, your tone sharp because why wasn’t anybody fucking listening.

When the room finally began to empty, you felt Rick come to stand beside you, his fingers gently uncurling your clenched fist and sliding something into your grasp instead.

You didn’t need to look down.

You knew what the weight of a knife felt like.

And then you were alone.

Just Daryl and you, the way it’d always been.

You fought back the urge to crawl onto the table beside him, knowing damn well that sooner rather than later, he’d come back — but not the man you knew, not the man you loved.

He’d come back as something entirely different.

And so you waited — any semblance of who you were before today melting away, in its place the hollow shell of a person who’d lost too much and in turn, lost themself.

And so you simply stood there and waited.

Because he wasn’t the only one changing.

Daryl and you, the way it’d always been.

A strange, sort of deranged laugh expelled from your body, echoing over the miles of quiet below you — but the noise hitched somewhere in your chest, sounding more like a sob than anything else.

You spun around, turning towards where Daryl had been standing just a moment ago.

But he was gone.

And you were alone — just you, the trees, and the setting sun.

Your legs suddenly gave out and you collapsed onto the ground, the forest floor digging into the soft flesh of your knees. You reached out and placed your hands, palms-down, against the dirt, your fingertips trembling as you felt the soil beneath you.

It felt real — but was it? Was anything real? Were you even really here to begin with?

You flipped over onto your backside, drawing your knees close and burying your face into your hands, inhaling the sultry scents of the earth beneath your fingernails. Your breathing was beginning to grow erratic, your chest tightening as though a giant hand had broken through your ribcage and grabbed onto your withering heart.

You were having a panic attack — or a heart attack, you weren’t quite sure.

Either way, you would’ve given anything at that moment to just not feel.

“Nice view, ain’t it?”

You nearly jumped out of your skin, your head snapping to the side.

And sure enough, there he was, sitting beside you.

Knees drawn to his chest, arms wound around them, hands clasped together as his blue eyes glinted towards the descending sun.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, inhaling shakily. “I’m —” your voice cracked as you quickly wiped away the tears that’d fallen. “I’m dreaming…aren’t I?”

Daryl glanced over at you then, flicking away the hair that fell over his face, his mouth twisting up into a sad smile. “A’ least ya ain’t crazy.”

A strangled sort of laugh slipped past your lips because maybe he was wrong — maybe you were crazy. Maybe you’d finally snapped and this was your reality now.

You slowly reached towards him, the archer so still you weren’t even sure he was breathing. Your palm found his cheek once more, your thumb brushing back and forth, the same way it had the day you’d lost him. “But I — I can feel you,” you whispered, mostly to yourself, your brow furrowing as his skin warmed beneath your touch.

Daryl remained quiet, his gaze searching yours, an emotion behind his eyes you couldn’t quite interpret. Then the corner of his mouth quirked and he turned away, letting your hand fall as he stared back at the setting sun.

But you couldn’t take your eyes off him, afraid that if you did, he’d disappear for good.

“Daryl,” you murmured, feeling your throat clog when his eyes met yours once more.

“Hm?” he sounded faintly.

“I —” you pushed down the sob building in your chest, digging your fingernails into the palm of your hand to keep from breaking. “I didn’t get to say goodbye.”

Daryl’s head tilted in the slightest, a look of confusion flittering across his features. “M’ right here, Y/N,” he countered simply, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that it wasn’t the same — that soon you’d wake and he’d be gone and you’d be left alone once more, in a world so much darker without him in it.

Instead, you sighed, long and heavy. “I miss you,” you whispered because you didn’t know what else to say, because it was the only real thing you could think of.

The archer smiled then, the glowing sun catching the gleam in his eye and setting your soul on fire. “M’ with ya,” he rasped, the rumble sending a chill down your spine. “Always.”

You felt your eyes well, prickling at the corners as you watched him, a mirrored fondness in your gaze.

Then Daryl huffed a soft breath and faced the view once more. “Ya should start headin’ home,” he murmured after a stretch of quiet had passed on.

Your chest tightened because you weren’t ready to let go — not yet.

“I will,” you said, breathing in the sight of him one last time before forcing yourself to look away. You studied the fiery colors that’d spread across the horizon instead of the sudden and empty space beside you — the space where he’d just been moments ago.

You sighed, a sad smile tugging at your lips as you soaked in the brevity of peace you’d found here, knowing deep down that whether it be in this lifetime or the next, you’d find each other once more.

A warmth settled over you, a feeling of home.

“Just a little while longer,” you whispered.

And the sun continued to dim.

Fin.

A/N: *crickets*

Oh...hey...didn't see ya there :)))))))

LMAO I'M SO SORRY, LET ME JUST SAY THAT RIGHT OFF THE BAT. Like I said before, this story took on a mind of its own! I had no control! Don't yell at me! (Well, it's okay if you yell at me, I understand. I'm currently yelling at myself as we speak because HOW DARE I DO THIS)

So yeah, I hope you lovelies enjoyed despite the massive plot twist.

Massive.

Ya know.

Like the 'massive chunk of flesh missing from Daryl's neck'.

OKAY, I'M SORRY I'LL STOP NOW.

P.S. Feedback is incredibly important. I write for my own happiness, but I also write for YOU. So don’t be afraid to shoot me an ask or leave a comment with your thoughts! It truly motivates me and helps move along the writing process. Also, please consider donating to my Tip Jar. Every little bit helps!

P.S.S. I can no longer tag people on this account, so my tag list has been transferred to my side blog @crossbowking2. If you’d like to be added/removed, please let me know!

[just-always-tired]

Reunion

check out my masterlist!

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Word count: 7k 

Angst | Fluff | Smut

The prison falls, and a hopelessly in love Daryl loses the opportunity to confess to you. At least, he thinks he has, but the future revels in being unpredictable.

the request:

something that’s been on my mind in terms of fluff/smut is daryl and reader being separated when the prison fell and reuniting in alexandria! possible angst as well like finding readers belongings at terminus but no reader so the reunion is 🥺

“You never told me who you were with. Before I found ya, I mean. Before us.”

You glance over to him at his voice, a lazy turn of your neck bringing him into your field of vision as you lie your weight on the two hands you’ve stretched behind your back. The fire he’d set up for the two of you crackles away, a dim light in the field of the prison yard, but enough to illuminate your features in an orange glow.

“You never asked.”

Scoffing, he thinks of a response. It’s not like he didn’t want to know - he did. Had since the first time the two of you took a hunting trip together - but in an odd way, he thinks he’s scared to know. Feared it, maybe.

“‘m askin’ now.”

You’re not his, despite what the gossip in the cafeteria would say, but he cares about you. A lot. A lot more than he anticipated. A lot more than these runaway nights spent talking and stargazing would let on, and that’s the reason why he’s never asked. He thinks that if someone had hurt you, he would get himself killed tearing through the world to find them.

“Guess you are.”

Lying down on the grass, you hear shifting from beside you before you bring your gaze to his. him watching you as he folds his vest into a rectangle. Reaching out his hand, he gently lifts your head, welcoming the tickle of your hair before he lays the leather underneath you. It’s not much, but the way you grin from his movements makes him feel like he had just placed the softest pillow beneath you, one made of goose feathers and wool.

“I was with a group of friends when this first started. At least, they were friends until, uh… they weren’t. Not long after that I was with another group. Then I… I wasn’t. The last group I was with they… uh… they did things. Things I didn’t agree with.”

You don’t continue for a moment. Collecting your thoughts, he assumes - then you speak again.

“I used to think men before all this were bad, but they’re… they’re worse now.”

He hears a shuddering breath and his heart surges forward with anger. It’s a foolish thought, the one he had feared would wash through him, but he can’t help but think of beating whoever you were talking about into the ground. Did they do something to you? Did they lay a hand on you? Did they hurt you?

“I, uh, ran from them in the middle of the night. Must’ve, God, I must’ve walked until noon. It- it felt like hours, y’know? I didn’t know where to go and I didn’t have a map, but I just… I just knew I couldn’t be with them. So I kinda spun around in a circle and walked in whatever direction I stopped in. And I… I just kept walking.”

He swallows hard before you continue, pulling at the grass beneath his clammy hands. No, he panics, Daryl Dixon doesn’t go clammy. Not for anyone. But you’re not just anyone. Not to him.

Keep reading

[just-always-tired]

Okay guys, I'm putting my positive pants back on. Seeing those pics hurt I'm not gonna lie but the more I stew on it the more I see it as a good thing.

Caryl's relationship has always been a big question. Everybody sees them in different ways and AK is actively pushing us all to see them in a very specific way. This episode is about a romance and it's a romance that ties directly to where Carol and Daryl are right now. Having this romance take place in the past as a fleeting flashback is probably the gentlest way to break it to us that Daryl has experience with romance.

This is good for us in a couple of ways.

1. It places Caryl directy into the romantic love category. It removes all the brother/sister mother/son theories. If we are supposed to compare his relationship with Leah in the past to his relationship with Carol now (which we are) then that's the status of their relationship in Canon. Romantic.

2. Daryl now knows or has some experience of romance. He has experienced love in some way that wasn't blind, needy love where he imprinted on the first person who ever showed him any affection like a baby duckling. He has a person out there in the world who he could, feasibly, choose to be with and he instead chose Carol. He chose her. And he will continue to choose her because now he knows that their connection is something special that can't be faked.

Since Leah disappeared Daryl has been showing us where his heart is over and over. The whole of S10 showed us that his priority was and is Carol. That hasn't changed. They still have a future, they'll still run away together and they still have each other no matter what. If anything, those romantically coded scenes in S10 make more sense now. Daryl knows what he wants, knows where he belongs and knows who he chose.

Yes he's going to yell at her. Maybe she doesn't deserve it but he's yelled at her before. In times when he's felt exposed and vulnerable. In times where she's gotten too close for him to hide those deep feelings he has. She doesn't know when to stop, he's right about that. She'll keep pushing him till he snaps and then they'll move on but they need it. They need to clear that air. They need to scream some home truths to the only person they know they can be brutally honest with without fear of losing them. Couples argue. They disagree. They fight. If they didn't then they would never survive the test of time and we already know that Caryl will survive.

Now, that doesn't mean I'm gonna like seeing it. It's gonna be tough to see those scenes. They look intimate and cosy, they look comfortable together but still, he ends up back where he's supposed to be so we shall power through, endure and move on. Caryl is coming and instead of Daryl being with Carol simply because he's known her the longest or she was kind to him when no-one else was or whatever other excuse people come up with, they will be together because they choose each other. Like they should and like we always hoped they would.

We still have a future.