#(as evil rick points out when they're looking over rick's memories and he tears up when he sees morty. which kills me btw)

[ambreiiigns]

btw rick and morty makes me insane bc no one Gets it people who don't wanna watch it (like me! before my brother made me watch it in exchange of him watching sk8 the infinity w me!) are like ugh problematique bad #edgy dark humor adult cartoon for reddit bros 🙄 but then the reddit bros who watch it & became the main representatives for its audience are like haha pickle rick wooo you need high iq I Relate To Rick Sanchez Deeply and he's like the joker to them and he's a king and an icon of alpha males somehow???? but like. neither of those people understand that rick and morty is actually about Nobody Exists On Purpose. Nobody Belongs Anywhere. Everybody's Gonna Die. Come Watch TV?

[sublimecatgalaxy]

a daryl dixon request! can be anything:) maybe him confessing his feelings for the reader during a run and you could take it anyway you’d like from there :)!!

You are indeed my favorite person for helping me feed my obsession. Thank you for making my dreams come true :D

This one is actually proofread and actually lengthy for once, over 2k! Guess it takes the right character to get me out of my funk😂

I didn't realize how much I needed him until The Saviors took him into custody at their so called Sanctuary. It was months on end, the same daily routine while he was gone; asking Rick what the plan was, chastising Rick for not having a thought out plan, crying to anyone, Rosita mostly, about the lack of leading our 'leader' was doing at the time.

Rick eventually had enough of me, giving me senseless, mindless chores to fill my time to keep my mind from wandering to the probable torture and pain that Daryl could be undergoing. He was a strong man but everyone had their breaking point and there was nothing that Negan loved more than to push someone to the edge.

I knew that by the time he returned, free from the clutches of evil itself, that I would be itching to ask him questions, to bug the shit out of him and ensure that everything he was feeling, everything he had experienced, was heard and handled. Daryl has always been and will always be the master at holding in feelings and handling trauma in the poorest way possible. He didn't talk to anyone, only Rick and only Carol but if you where to ask Rosita, she'd claim that Daryl never looks at anyone like he wants to open up to them but me.

The jury's still out on that.

Though my intention was to grill him for details, to ask him a plethora of questions, when he actually came home and walked through the gates, I wanted nothing more than to just sit with him. He looked broken, clinging onto Rick with tears shining in both of their eyes. I had never seen him so distraught, not since losing Beth. It was as if he lost another part of himself under the care of Negan and I realized the last thing he probably wanted to do was talk about it.

So I avoided the topic all together.

He picked up on my nervous and curious glances over time, knowing that I wanted to ask him how he was more than anything, how he was fairing since he returned to reality-to normalcy- while the man who did this to him was still out there. He would simply respond with a grunt or a small shrug, silently telling me not to worry about him, that he was fine and that he would be.

"What's got your mind occupied over there?" Daryl's grumbling voice snaps me out of my memories, his brows raising simply at me as he leans over the stream, washing his hands of blood in the rushing water. I fight the urge to become embarrassed, not wanting to fess up and tell him that it was him that was running through my head, not when he's feet away from me.

"Just thinking." I shrug, returning my attention to the bag at my feet, collecting the plants and herbs that I was instructed to get by Siddiq. I was supposed to be on this run by myself, purely capable and able without the help of anyone else escorting me. But the minute that Daryl found out from Siddiq that I was leaving, he was hot on my trail, following me through the forest. Daryl was instructed and urged to stay safe and sound behind the walls, none of us wanting Negan to get his hands on him again while we were all still going at it, knowing all too well that Daryl wouldn't survive if he was captured again.

"Figured. I can see the smoke comin' from ya ears." A mixture of a scoff and a laugh rumbles in my chest, my eyes rolling at his sass as I lean against the tree behind me. I watch him as he mirrors me, legs folded with his arms resting on his knees, eyes pointed up at the trees above us. "Nice to be out of solitary." He mutters, a hint of sincerity behind his words as he sighs, running his fingers through his tousled hair, bicep flexing in the shadow of the sun.

"They're just trying to keep you safe, you know? People care about you and don't want to see you get hurt." Toying with the grass beside me, he tilts his head a bit, tongue darting out to wet his lips before he speaks.

"People? Or you?" He offers, my eyes widening a bit at his sudden, but true, comment. He doesn't seem phased at my shock, but just nods slowly, almost as if my lack of response and parted lips answered his question silently. "Rick, uh, told me," he adds, my audible gulp filling the forest around us as he pauses, "said you were scared shitless every damn day I was gone- that he had to give you shit t'do to keep you from cryin'." My eyes quickly fixate on anything but him, my head swimming with embarrassed and intrusive thoughts, wanting nothing more but to get up and walk away, and possibly off a cliff. "It true?" I contemplate my answer carefully but with every moment that passes and the realization that passes across his handsome face, I know that nothing I could say would convince him that I didn't lose my cool for the time he was gone.

"I was mildly upset at Rick for not having a plan of attack." My nails are red from picking at them, the nervous tic being a dead give away that I was underplaying the severity of the panic attacks and dreams I was having at that time, all about him and his lack of safety. "Maybe more than mildly upset. If I remember correctly, Rick threatened to knock me out with a bat if I wouldn't stop crying." I snort, watching as Daryl's lips curl up into a simple smile, his eyes hooded as he watches me shift uncomfortably in my seat.

"Why didn't ya tell me you was that upset?" He quizzes, the question making my heart pound against my ribs so violently that I'm afraid it might shoot right out of my chest and land at Daryl's feet.

"You were literally held captive, D. The last thing you needed was me sobbing hysterically as a welcome home." My chest deflates as he shakes his head, my brows pulling together at his disagreement.

"You were the last person I expected to hold out on me." He clicks his tongue in fake disappointment, a small smirk on his lips as my brows lift, urging him to go on as he rolls his eyes. "C'mere." He urges, nodding to the open spot of grass beside him as I hesitate, my knees suddenly wobbly at his invitation. Nonetheless, I find my way to my feet, stepping across the stream of water to sit myself carefully beside him. "Shoulda told me. Wouldn't want to be upset 'n not tell me." He mutters, raising his arm to fit me into his side, his hand rests around my waist, fingers messing with the strings of fabric that hang off of the cuts on my denim shorts. His head is dipped down, eyes trained on the ground as I take a quiet deep breath in, relaxing into him and the tree behind us as I watch him intently. "Shouldn't have to hear it a month later from Rick." He nudges me playfully but there's weight behind his words, disappointment almost.

I didn't tell him how I was feeling and he wanted me to.

The realization floors me, not realizing he cared that much about how I was feeling at that time. My belief was that he was too caught up in dealing with the trauma that occurred to him, too caught up to answer questions or relive the past.

"Didn't jus' happen to me. Happened to you too." The words are validating, my brows pulling together as I tilt my head to look at him, eyes flickering over his face as his eyes hit the sunlight, nose only inches from mine.

"I was worried sick. Physically sick, Daryl." I whisper, relief filling me at my honestly, needing to get the weight off of my shoulders and finally tell him the truth. His palm flattens against my waist at the confession, almost as if he was steadying me silently. "Rosita had to hide the keys to any vehicle in the vicinity because I was so ready to march down to the Sanctuary and offer myself up instead." He quickly shakes his head in disapproval, clearing his throat as his head leans to rest against the tree, curious eyes flickering over my face.

"That's the stupidest shit I've ever heard come outta that mouth'a yours." He mumbles, meaning for it to come off in a playful, condescending way but as his words run through my brain, I sense nothing but concern for my safety. "Negan woulda had a field day with you- pisses me off just thinkin' about that. He would've had to kill me himself to keep me from tearing his head off his neck." His violent words don't spook me nor are they unsettling, they only remind me of the anger that he holds towards the infamous man.

"Well I'm here, safe and sound so." I shrug, my hands reaching out to rest on my thighs as he huffs, blowing some hair from his eye line as he nods slowly.

"You don't wanna waste your life worryin' about me, Y/n- don't roll your eyes at me, woman, seriously." I laugh but he just sits up straighter, his shoulders rigid in annoyance. "Seriously, don't get yourself into shit for me, it's not your job."

"It is my job." I respond simply, my voice monotone as his chest rises and falls in quick, frustrated breaths.

"You're fired then." Smart-ass. Sitting up straighter, I turn completely to him, my body twisting in his hold as his hand rests on the grass behind me, his body angled towards me with a tilted gaze, waiting for my snarky response.

"You're gonna have to kill me to fire me, Dixon." He curses under his breath at my rebuttal, my arms folding over my chest as a proud smirk lands firmly on my pouted lips. I watch him as his eyes flutter shut, his fingers reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"You're such a pain in my ass." He blows out a breath as he grumbles, tugging me back to him as my head hits his shoulder, instinctively chuckling under my breath at his defeat. "I went to the Sanctuary in the first place to keep your ass from gettin' hurt-"

"What a hypocrite. If I'm not allowed to stick my neck out for you then the same goes for you." My brows pull together, the dots in my head disconnected as I search for an answer in his eyes. Rick originally told me that Negan was planning something and that Daryl went ahead and acted as damage control when he was captured. To make it about me, to make sacrificing himself about me is ridiculous.

"It's my job-" He starts with a mocking tone but I put a hand up, his lips parting but no words come out as I force out a simple reply.

"Bullshit."

"It's not the same as you stickin' up for me against Carol when she's teasing me or threatening to come save me like I'm some damn damsel in distress. I'm not doin' it cuz I want to." He concludes but it only confuses me more, a small scoff leaving my lips.

"Then why?" I ask, frustration and anger bubbling in my veins at the thought of him putting himself in harms way for me. I watch him take a deep breath in as my heart beat picks up, his eyes finding mine as the trees sway around us.

"You know why." He mutters, eyes stuck on mine as my lip pulls in between my teeth, my brows wobbling a bit as my gaze quicks between his genuine eyes. They're soft, not angry or frustrated like he was just moments ago, instead he looks tired and gentle. His hand moves to rest on my back, thumb rubbing into the exposed skin where my shirt bunched up.

"Oh." My voice is meek and the response comes out almost as a reflex as my body relaxes, the intention behind his words suddenly so clear.

You know why.

"Why didn't you say anything?" I ask, pulling my knees up to my chest as his eyes settle on his hands resting in his lap, biting at the inside of my cheek as I wait.

"Why didn't you?" I laugh quietly, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly bashful and coy as the distance between us suddenly feels so close. "Gotta cut me some slack here, not good with this shit." He chuckles, chest rumbling as my face warms at the sight of his smile.

"I get what you're saying." I shrug, watching as his brows tick up, tongue sweeping out over his lips as he nods.

"Ya do?" Bobbing my head in a simple nod, his shoulders relax, fingers slowly reaching out to intertwine his with mine. With a blithe smile, I relax into him as my job at hand is disregarded, our silent confession filling the air around us as we fall into a comfortable silence.

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