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starlessea · 3 years

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Peek-A-Boo

A/N This is a Daryl / Reader story told through Judith’s perspective. This is what most of you wanted to see from the vote - so I hope you enjoy the fluff!

Summary: The story of Aunt and Uncle Dixon told through the eyes of Judith Grimes.

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The very first memory Judith Grimes had of her uncle and her aunt was from back when they weren’t even known as Aunt and Uncle Dixon — well, not to her at least.

She’d been two, or maybe even three years old at the time. She knew she was young, since the memory itself was fuzzy, blurred like an old photograph left out in the sun — like the picture of her and her brother as the years drew on. But even then, their faces hadn’t really changed, nor had the way they looked at each other.

Judith Grimes had been two and a half, perhaps bordering on three, when her world went dark.

That sounded ominous-

It hadn’t really — but at the time she didn’t know any better.

So, according to Judith, her world had gone pitch black, making her lip quiver in fear and her little palms tremble as the light was zapped away from her forever.

It was silent, cold, empty.

But then, that darkness dropped away from her eyes, and a man stood before her in its place — with a fuzzy beard, pulling a strange face.

And giggles erupted from Judith Grimes.

“Oh my god, Daryl,” a woman cried — perhaps the same one holding her, covering her eyes with her gentle palm and pinching her cheeks every now and then — “just listen to her!”

The man had a hint of a smile on his face, but he still looked grumpy. He always did.

Well, except for a moment ago when he pulled that face at Judith.

“Do it again,” he muttered, his eyes looking up from her — resting on someone else who she couldn’t yet see.

And suddenly, her world went dark once more.

Judith whimpered. Her eyes were wide open but everything was still black. Even the grouchy man with the itchy beard had vanished, leaving her all alone in this stranger’s arms. She spluttered on a cry, feeling it bubble up in her throat as she prepared to wail as loud as her little lungs could manage.

But then there was light.

And with it, came that man who made her laugh.

She laughed so much that it spread to the woman holding her — she could feel it as she bounced along with her. And this time, even the grumpy man smiled.

But Judith could tell that he wasn’t looking at her, because his eyes were up higher than where she was sitting — probably on that other lady whose voice was much louder than hers.

She pouted. She couldn’t compete with that.

But the man had gotten closer to Judith now, close enough this time for her to grab his nose. So she did just that, encasing it, trapping it in her little fist and squeezing until he paid attention to her.

“Now tha’ ain’t very nice,” he grumbled, untangling her fingers from the end of his nose. “Thought ya were raised better than tha’, lil’ asskicker.”

His hand was rough and big — almost as big as that other man’s who held her a lot. He had a beard, too.

“Hmm yes, I wonder who she could’ve picked this violence up from?” the lady replied, readjusting Judith against her chest as she slipped down.

But Judith wasn’t violent. It had been a loving squeeze, really.

“Could be any damn one of us,” the man dismissed, shaking his head as he leant back against the doorframe.

His face didn’t look funny anymore, as he spoke to the woman. But it didn’t look angry, either. His eyes were soft, similar to how they were when he looked at Judith — but there was something else there that she couldn’t make out.

Not yet, anyway.

“She’s going to have a mouth on her, if you keep swearing the way you do,” the lady chided, and the man scowled straight back.

“Wha’s it got to do with ya?” he asked, walking back over to them — close enough that Judith contemplated pulling on his beard this time. “I ain’t yer husband or nothin’.”

The lady didn’t reply, but she did set Judith down onto her chair, strapping her in so that she faced the both of them.

And now, Judith could tell why the bearded man kept looking at the lady like that, because she was very pretty — almost as pretty as the other lady she knew, who had those braids she liked to pull on.

But, this one disappeared as quickly as she came, walking back around Judith’s chair until her eyes couldn’t follow her anymore.

Then, it went dark one final time.

And when Judith squinted her eyes open, suddenly there were two people pulling funny faces — instead of just the one.

What magic!

She giggled until her throat felt dry and her eyelids were heavy, and then she giggled some more.

The man smiled at the woman when she wasn’t looking, and once again Judith saw that look she didn’t quite understand yet — but thought it was fascinating nonetheless. Though, that man was completely intriguing anyway, because he was magical, because he could turn one person into two!

And they stayed as two people as long as Judith knew them — since she never saw one without the other after that.

When Judith was older, old enough to form sentences rather than just pointing to things and hoping for the best, she began to realise what that look was.

And that she wasn’t at all meant to see it.

Aunty and Uncle had been looking after her one night, back when they weren’t yet Aunty and Uncle Dixon — just the regular, separate kind.

They’d drawn with crayons until it got dark, and Judith had cried because Uncle Daryl’s pictures looked so much better than hers. Aunty had scolded him, and after that every drawing which followed had been a stick-man, instead.

But Judith still had the best time.

Aunty’s cooking was good — not burnt like her daddy’s often was — and Uncle chased her around the living room like a big blanket monster, and tickled her when he caught her.

Though, her favourite part of the night was when they tucked her into bed, and kissed her forehead goodnight. Then, Uncle Daryl turned the light off — but Judith still saw him giving Aunty a kiss goodnight, too.

“Daddy?” she asked, when the man came to collect her the following day. “Why do you kiss?”

They were gathered in the living room, eating some of the snacks Aunty had prepared for them, whilst Uncle Daryl fiddled with that sharp, pointy arrow launcher he’d told her not to touch.

Her father glanced at her mother, who cocked her head at the question.

“Why do we kiss?” he repeated, pulling Judith up onto his lap. He took a hold of her mommy’s hand, and stroked the back of it with his thumb. “Because we love each other,” he told her, and smiled as he did.

But Judith still didn’t understand.

“Can you kiss anyone you love?” she asked curiously, trying to put the puzzle pieces together in her mind.

She loved every person in this room — and then some.

Her father narrowed his eyes at her, whilst she reached for another treat to nibble on whilst she thought.

“Yes-” he answered, before pausing, “well, if it’s your family.” He glanced around the room, gesturing to the people sitting inside it. Then, he looked at Judith more sternly, and pinched her cheek to make her giggle. “You can’t just go around kissin’ any boy you see, okay?” he warned, and Judith nodded energetically.

For a second, Rick thought it was over — that he’d dodged a bullet as his daughter returned to her snack — but then the gears started to turn in her little head once again.

“So if it’s not family,” Judith started, carefully choosing her words, “it’s just for mommies and daddies?” she asked.

Her father glanced at her mother, as though he didn’t know the answer, himself. The woman nodded, and then he nodded as well.

“Yes,” he replied, setting Judith back down onto her feet.

She smiled. Everything was starting to make sense now.

Her aunt was picking up crumbs from the floor, and her uncle was watching her do it — looking up from his hands every few seconds.

“Okay, I get it,” Judith nodded, smiling back at her father proudly. “Uncle Daryl is the daddy, and Aunty is the mommy,” she concluded.

And chaos erupted.

Daryl caught his finger on that sharp, pointy arrow and cursed, sticking it in his mouth before the skin could bleed — and her aunty spluttered, before reaching for a glass of water.

“What?” her father asked, quickly shaking his head to correct Judith. “No, they aren’t-”

But her mother interrupted before he could finish.

“Why would you think that, sweetie?” her tone was warm, gentle, but she narrowed her eyes at Judith — waiting for her response.

“Because I saw them kissing last night!”

Her father looked up at Uncle Daryl, whose blush had turned three shades darker, or maybe even four, and cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Well, shit,” he grumbled, below his breath — but Judith still caught it.

And that was the first time Judith Grimes had ever heard that word, too.

When Judith was nine years old, the winter before last, it snowed for the very first time in her life.

It blanketed the world in a powdery, pale ice, which her aunt said looked like ‘caster sugar’ — whatever that was.

Judith didn’t really know what to make of it, at first. It was cold, and wet, and made her sink into the ground as though it was trying to swallow her up.

But then Uncle Daryl threw a snowball at her.

And she laughed.

Everyone had gotten involved — even her aunt, who usually didn’t like to exert herself in the cold weather. Judith caught Uncle Daryl sending her a worried look, before eventually swaddling her up in his poncho, rolling his eyes and giving in

He always gave in when it came to her.

So Judith and the others shrieked and screamed as they lobbed packed snow through the air until they were damp and defeated. It had been one of those moments that she would remember forever — the day the world looked like caster sugar.

But it wasn’t long after — maybe only a week — that her aunt got sick.

Judith crept along the floorboards, as lightly and quietly as she was able, so that they wouldn't squeak. She wasn’t meant to be in there, but she’d always had a bad habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

She peered around the doorframe, squinting between the thin crack to get a glimpse at the scene inside. Uncle Daryl was perched on the end of the bed, wiping her aunt’s hair away from her sticky forehead. She was bundled up in so many blankets — and her uncle’s poncho, of course.

But then, Judith noticed Uncle Daryl look away, before wiping his eyes with the back of his hand — as he snivelled.

And Judith knew that she definitely wasn’t supposed to see that.

“Why is Uncle Daryl crying?” she asked her mother, when she returned.

Michonne stopped in place, eyeing Judith as if trying to determine whether she was telling the truth. Though, she soon noticed her daughter’s own lip quivering, and her eyes softened.

“He’s crying?” she repeated, as Judith nodded. Her mom outstretched her arms, and beckoned her over. “Come here, baby.”

Judith wasted no time running to her embrace, sinking into the warm, familiar scent of her mother as she stroked the back of her head.

“You weren’t meant to see that, were you?” she chided — but her voice was still gentle. “I thought I taught you better than to eavesdrop.”

Judith buried her face further into her mother’s neck.

“I just overheard it,” she confessed, her words muffled against Michonne’s skin. “I’m sorry.”

In truth, Judith was much more shaken than she cared to admit — but her mother could already tell. She had never seen her uncle cry before, despite everyone they had lost. He was always the person to wipe away her tears, and convince her that everything would be alright.

Michonne placed a kiss against her temple, trying to comfort her. “It’s okay, sweet girl,” she whispered, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “He’ll be okay.”

Judith pulled back a little, wiping at her glassy eyes before any of her own tears could fall.

“He’s just worried about your aunt,” her mother continued. “She’s frail in the winter,” she sighed, “gets sick real easy.”

Judith nodded, but it didn’t make her feel any better.

“Is it because I asked her to come play in the snow with me?” she mumbled, instantly guilty at the realisation.

Perhaps she shouldn’t have thrown so many snowballs at her.

“Nah, baby girl,” Michonne quickly dismissed, “she wanted to join in.” Her mother smiled, and pinched her cheek lightly. “You could see it in her eyes.”

And Judith had to agree with that.

After all, she remembered the day so clearly — because of the way her aunt’s eyes sparkled like fresh snow, and how Uncle Daryl’s were only looking at her.

“Come on, why don’t we make them something to eat?” her mother suggested, guiding Judith towards the kitchen.

She nodded, accepting her hand.

“Let’s make them something warm.”

When Judith was ten, she painted her uncle’s jacket.

Well, they both did.

Her aunt sat crossed legged beside her, paint streaked on her cheek, and covering her palms. She was a lot more messy than Judith — having tipped the glass of murky water over twice already.

Her skin was pink, flushed as she laughed and tried her best to “paint within the lines!” — as Judith kept reminding her — but in all honesty the young girl didn’t really mind.

After all, it was nice just to see her aunt’s complexion looking healthy, considering the winter they’d had last year.

But, at least she’d bounced back quickly, returning to her kind, teasing self in a matter of weeks — and not leaving Judith alone ever since.

“I like the blue,” she commented, once Judith was done painting. “It’s pretty.”

The wing was a mixture of sky blues and snow whites. It didn’t match the other one completely — but that had been intentional. Her aunt smiled at her, trying to scrub the paint from her face before it dried.

“I know,” Judith answered, hovering her fingers over the damp angel wing. “It’s your favourite colour,” she explained, “that’s why I chose it.”

Her aunt looked taken aback for a second, her eyes darting between her and the jacket.

“You chose it on purpose?” she asked, and Judith nodded.

“Mhm,” she confirmed. “Now this wing is for Uncle Daryl,” she said, pointing to the original side, with its fraying stitches, “and this one is for you,” she told her, gesturing to the new, blue wing.

Judith smiled widely, grabbing onto her aunt’s hand — which had more paint coating it than the jacket.

“You two are like my guardian angels!” she laughed brightly. “You’ve always looked out for me,” Judith noted, before giving her hand a squeeze, “and for each other.”

This time, her aunt was the one to choke up, looking away from her as she wiped away tears that hadn’t yet fallen. Then, she pulled Judith into a hug — decorating her shirt with blue handprints that would probably never wash out.

But, then she kicked over the glass of water with her foot for the third time — and Judith sighed at how clumsy she was.

Later, once everything had been cleaned up and put away, the two of them walked hand-in-hand to find her uncle, as Judith carried the drying jacket and her aunt knocked on the door.

When the man opened it, she beamed at him, keeping the surprise hidden behind her back — but her aunt giggled, never one to be able to keep a straight face.

“We painted this for you,” Judith eventually explained, holding up the leather jacket for Uncle Daryl to see. “It’s for luck.”

The man took it in his hand, carefully, as though he were afraid of smudging the fresh paint. And a smile spread over his face — the kind that he usually tried to keep a secret from Judith, but the kind she’d also seen him wear many times.

“C’mere,” he whispered, nodding his head at them.

So, Judith and her aunt ran into his outstretched arms as he hugged them, squishing Judith in the middle as she became engulfed from either side — as though by a pair of wings.

“‘M a’ready the luckiest bastard in the world,” her uncle mumbled, followed by a scolding from her aunt for his language. But, he only laughed in return. “I love it,” he said, and squeezed her shoulder tightly.

Judith left soon after that, but she lingered at the doorway for a few moments.

The voices were hushed inside, but she could make out their expressions clear as day, as clear as the flickers of blue paint splattered on her skin.

It seemed that even after all these years, Judith Grimes had never quite grown out of the habit of seeing things she wasn’t supposed to — and marvelling at them once she did.

Almost like an ongoing game of peek-a-boo.

Judith watched through the crack of the door as her aunt tried on the winged jacket, twirling around in front of Uncle Daryl and laughing — whilst he looked at her like she was the whole world.

Like she was a real-life angel, walking.

End.

Feedback is always welcomed; I love hearing what you all think - so feel free to comment, send in an ask, or just message me if you want to chat!

Also, if you enjoy my writing, you might want to buy me a coffee or commission me - tips are always appreciated. Thank you for reading!

A/N Okay this was pure, cheesy fluff - and I am LIVING for it! What did you guys think? I know it was a little different, but did you enjoy Judith’s perspective, and the flashforwards in time? I’d love to hear your thoughts :)

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that-one-egomaniac · 3 years

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Negan and little Asskicker Grimes Art Dump 🤲

#twd #the walking dead fanart #negan #judith grimes #negan fanart #my art

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twdsunshine · 3 years

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The best excuse

Yaaaay, this is a mini-series - or possibly an extended one-shot - that I'm building by extending a drabble I wrote last month that has been insanely popular. It was about Daryl having his hair braided by the reader to make a young Judith happy, and it was so super sweet I got tooth ache, I swear.

The Best Excuse

'Based on one of my Covid drabbles with the prompt, ‘Why won’t you let me braid your hair?’ The reader spends her days in Alexandria looking after a young Judith Grimes. When Uncle Daryl begins to hang around more and more, she can’t help but hope that he’s there for more than to spend time with the lil’ asskicker…'

It's just gonna be a collection of cute little moments between the archer and the kid that also bring him and the reader closer. Fluffy goodness!

#hana answers #writing chat

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caraleedixon · 3 years

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The Dixon Tiwns are born

Seven moths had passed since the explostion at the bridge.

Seven months had passed since Caralee's father had disappeared.

Seven months of helping with Judith.

NINE months for morning sickness and fatigue.

August 17th

Cara woke up to the feeling of wetness all over the bed and contractions. "DARYL!!! MY WATER BROKE!! DARYL WE GOTTA GET TO HILLTOP!" she screamed, boots pounded up the steps.

"Alright alright ill grab the bag and get Michonne and Carl" he said trying to act calm but inside he was freeking out. " One baby makes three Dixon's Sunshine" he said gently.

~~~on the way~~

Cara was trying not too scream in pain as the contractions were coming closer and closer. "REDNECK! YOU NEED TO GET ME THERE THE BABY IS COMING NOW!" she screamed at Daryl who was driving as fast as he could.

"Yes Sunshine yes im going as fast as i can baby" he said biting his tongue.

Carl held his sister's hand, "we'll be there soon Lee-Lee" he said calmly, rubbing her arm. "Come on remember what Michonne said... You need to breath" Cara glared at him. "Hey relax. Us Grimes kids are strong" he said earning a chuckle from his sister.

~~~Hilltop~~

Daryl carried Cara to the doctors trailer. He kicked the door until the doctor opened up.

"Baby coming?" He asked, Daryl nodded as Cara screamed. "Alright alright get in here we gotta check how many centimeters she is" Daryl brought her into the trailer and laid her down on the bed, she wasnt wearing pants and just pulled off her underware as the doctor put gloves on and checked her. " Cara... I need you too push alright? It's gonna hurt.. But sweety youre going to be okay I promise" Cara nodded slowly, taking a breath and starting to push.

Ten minutes later, Caralee Dixon had given birth to a beautiful little boy.

"Daryl Jay Dixon Junior" she said holding him in her arms before she had another contraction. "What the hell?!" She bit back a scream as Carl took DJ. The doctor came running over with the ultrasound machine. He put the gel on her belly before taking a look.

"Well... I dont know how I missed this but Cara... Youre having another baby... Give us a couple good pushes and your twins will offically being born"

After a couple of minutes, Cara had then given birth to a little girl. "Daryl... Name your little girl" she said smiling tiredly up at Daryl who was holding the little girl as Carl held DJ still.

"Wait.. Really?" He asked looking down at her with tears in his eyes. "Well little one, your Aunt is little asskicker so....-"

"Daryl... A real name" she warned him.

"I was joking Sunshine...." He said gently kissing Cara's head. "How about... Sierra Rae Dixon?" He asked to which Cara nodded.

"Welcome to the end of the world DJ and Sierra" she said as Carl and Daryl handed the twins to her.

@stellacarlinlitchfield-blog

#daryldixon #carlgrimes #ricksdaughter #childbirth

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lola-andheruniverse · 3 years

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Although we still have two months to wait until season 11 premieres, I'm already seeing people posting their death predictions and I can't stand it because I just don't want anyone else to die.

I love TWD since 2011 and I'm sad it's ending, even with my brain saying it's about time. Of course I'll never cease to be excited about our Caryl spin off and our sweet idiots getting their happy ending, but, you know, I want ALL of the characters to have happy endings as well.

After so much suffering and loss, I want TWD to end with a big bomb of cliches and weddings and babies all over the place.

Give me the last scene of the comics with adult Carl Judith and adult Hershel Jr walking around Alexandria. But make them a couple, holding hands. Make Judith the youngest member of the council, and Hershel leader of the scavenging team. Give us Judith getting out of the council room after a meeting, talking to an older Gabriel and an older Aaron. It's spring and the Alexandria gardens are blooming and little kids are running around because it's late afternoon and they just got out of school and are looking for their parents.

On their way they cross paths with Rosita, middle-age goddess, and a teenager Coco asking to go to a party, while another smaller girls runs to Gabriel open arms. Rosita looks to Judith and tells her that Hershel just got back from his two week scavenging trip and she excuses herself to go meet him.

They smile and hug and kiss like the young married couple they are, and Hershel says that his mother sent her love to them all. Maggie is planning to visit next week, and they both know that means at least a few months because she's a workaholic. And they laugh because that is a recurring joke on their family.

And while they are walking hand to hand and talking, going to their home, one of the kids from World Beyond (don't remember their names), also all grown up, screams to Hershel that, hey boss, he already called the CRM and talked to Eugene letting them know their trip was a success.

They pass Dwight and Sherry with a ten year old kid by their side, and wave hello to Negan who is on the other side of the street talking to Lydia, just to ease some of the tension that still feels the air so many years later.

The camera loses them for a minute so we can see Negan is saying goodbye to Lydia and heading to the gate and his cabin, with a basket full of supplies. And with the camera we get a 360° look on the community. Look, there's Kelly and Alycia talking on a bench, Magna is shifting guards with Connie, and they are so excited that Luke's babe just got delivered! And Lydia sits on a picnic blanket where a unknown young men and a two year old babe are playing. She looks with nostalgia to Morgan and Jerry who are training the older kids with spears, and Grace is assisting them. Jerry is happy because Ezekiel finally remarried and is coming to Alexandria so they can meet his new wife on a few weeks.

The camera shows us the old and new buildings of Alexandria, people we don't know and people we love, until stops again on Judith and Hershel while they are passing Rick's statue. Hershel asks what is for dinner and Judith says she has no idea because they are going to eat at their parents house.

And them she yells 'Hi, daddy! Look who is back!" to a figure in the nearest house. And yes, it's Rick! He is sitting on the porch, looking older and a little tired but happy, a big smile on his white-bearded face. Michonne is just around the corner with a RJ as a young man, carrying her bags from the market, and she smiles when she sees her daughter and her son-in-law.

When the four of them reach the front of the Grimes house, Rick says "Welcome home, Hershel! But you are not the guest of honour tonight!". And through the door come out Daryl and Carol. Judith screams "oh my God, when did you two arrived? No one told me anything!" And Daryl "Surprise, little asskicker. We got here a few hours ago but you were on your very important council meeting." Between hugs and hellos, Carol says to Michonne that she already started her famous casserole to her friend delight, and we can see that Lydia is also coming to the house with her baby and her husband. Rick says to everyone to come in and help him arrange more sits on the table because they sent word to Aaron, Gabriel, Morgan and everyone from the "old gang" to join them for dinner. RJ suggests to put a few tables on the backyard since the "old gang" (air quotes because RJ is a dark humor savage like his mother) actually means almost every Alexandria resident. Poor Carol will need lots of helping hands to feed the entire city.

Everyone laughs and go help, camera zooms out the Grimes porch up to the sky so we can see small groups of people heading there, and the other houses, and also how big and full Alexandria became. And then THE END. ✨

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minxchester · 6 years

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My Daryl Dixon blog has little to no traffic, but here goes the ongoing obsession--I made a ten-years-older Judith Grimes LOL. @nextimeishoot

This is entirely inspired by my belief that Jude is gonna be the heroine to redeem Negan, and a tiiiiny part of my heart that thinks ten years from now she’d see that silver fox as quite the Daddy lol.

Anyhoo if you like Walking Dead feel free to bother my gal.

She also goes by L.A. Uncle Daryl still calls her “Little Asskicker,” and she loves that.

#nextimeishoot #Judith Grimes #Jude Grimes #L.A.-little asskicker

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bidaryl · 4 years

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that time i was like hey au where daryl gets sent back to the start of the apocalypse hehe but then i was like fuck! what IF!!!! and got emo thinking about it realistically and started writing it :(

He wakes up when it’s just him and Merle on the road.

He went to bed the night before, so incredibly fucking tired. After everything that had gone down those past few months - Beta being alive; the trek back to Alexandria; answering people’s questions about the future; fuckin’ Negan; Lydia not trusting nobody, including him; whatever shit Carol was going through - he was fucking wiped. Asskicker had managed to convince him to take her outside the walls, asked him to teach her how to hunt, how to track. They’d spent hours out there after first light, him showing her some of the basic stuff; how to tell apart different tracks, how to set quick effective traps, other small things. She told him ‘bout Michonne leaving. Daryl had a few thoughts about that, but Jude already looked like she was one bad feeling away from crying, so he shifted focus and changed the subject. She’d picked up tracking quickly, almost quicker than Beth had. Had turned to him at one point of the day after they’d stopped to have lunch, begging to stay outside for a few more hours. Wanting to practice more. He wasn’t exactly a seasoned pro at saying no to her, he had a bad habit of giving in quickly to most of the kids he knew, but the Whisperer’s group was still at large - Beta and his followers were still out there - and after a few promises and compromises, he’d convinced her to come back inside the gates. Told her he’d let her take the lead the next time they came out, warning her it couldn’t be the next day, reasoning he had things he had to do back home, but promised her they could come back out soon. After they’d walked back inside the walls, he made a small appearance at dinner, checked in with the people on guard duty, then headed to the Grimes’ house. Fell onto his bed without even taking his shoes off and crashed. Next thing he knew, he was waking up to a rough kick to the legs and Merle’s cheery voice.

“Wasting daylight, Darleena, c’mon, chop chop, let’s go!” - he claps his hands - “time to wake the fuck up.” Merle adds another kick for good measure before walking off. Daryl pushes up onto his elbows, looking around and trying to get a grasp of where they are and what time it is, before giving up almost immediately when his brain catches up and realises if Merle’s here, he’s dreaming. Or hallucinating. Either way, this ain’t real. He sits up slowly before thinking - fuck it. Might as well see his brother while he’s around. He makes a move and gets up, grabs his jacket from where it was being used as a makeshift pillow, and heads outside. The area looks vaguely familiar but also like every wood Merle and him have ever camped in, so he continues walking over to where Merle’s standing before sitting down and grabbing the spoon and can his brother left out for him.

“No biters so far, but we should keep movin’, get ahead of the ones travellin’ out from the city,” Merle starts, nods his head to his pile stuff that’s already packed up, and stands, stomping out the small fire he had going. “This spot’s gonna be overrun before we can blink. We gotta move out.” Merle wanders off beyond the tree line, muttering something about taking a piss, yelling a “Hurry up and pack your shit!” over his shoulder before disappearing. Daryl nods to himself, quickly shovels what’s left of the can in his mouth and scans the area to figure out what stuff there’s still left to pack. Thinks to himself that it’s a stupid ass dream he’s having, Merle bossin’ him around and making him clean up. Makes him feel like he’s 4 years old again, doin’ Merle’s chores for him.

By the time Merle walks back over, Daryl’s got the tent and sleeping bag all folded up and put together, his bow leaning against the his bike, bag packed and ready to go.

“We good?” Merle asked, grabbing his own collection of things and walking over, standing next to his own ride.

Daryl does one last sweep before nodding and asks which way they’re going as he mounts his bike.

Merle gives him a look, “The fuck you mean, ‘Which way we goin’?’ done told ya, we been over this five times already.” He shakes his head before climbing his bike, starts the engine and rides out. Daryl shrugs and follows. Dream Merle’s as temperamental as real life Merle. Daryl can roll with that.

They ride for the rest of the day, taking mainly back roads and hidden trails they only know about cause they grew up round these parts, avoiding highways as much as possible, still only making it barely 2 hours from where they first started that morning. Daryl follows while Merle leads, stopping twice to try find some gas. He spends the first hour or so feeling guilty, feeling like actual fucking shit, watching Merle zip around abandoned cars, using signals to direct him, wondering how Merle got so faded in his memory. Turns out theres nothing like having the ghost of his dead brother right in front of him to make him realise how many small details Daryl’s forgot about him, how much his memory’s erased him over time.

He spends the rest of the day taking everything in, getting familiar again. Merle’s about as loud and annoying and chatty and demanding as Daryl remembers. Still a pain in the ass, but Daryl forgot about the way Merle told his stories; not just with words, but with his hands, his face. Forgot about how it was Merle who taught him how to ride. How no matter how good Daryl gets on his bike, how many little tricks he learns, how many rides he fixes; he’s always just gonna be second best to Merle. For a second, he wonders why he’s dreaming about this specific part of his life, but figures this isn’t exactly the first time he’s dreamt of Merle, and it’s probably not gonna be the last. Takes a moment to consider whether or not there’s a reason to be dreaming this vividly - a head injuries or an attack. Think’s to himself - maybe he’s dead and his afterlife is just him and Merle, riding around together on their bikes. Rolls his shoulders and jerks his head, tells himself he’s not fucking dead.

Merle’s up ahead, ranting about some shit Daryl wasn’t there for and hollering at his own punchline. Daryl kinda wants to tell him to shut the fuck up but can’t bring himself to say it. He hasn’t heard Merle’s voice outside of his dreams and hallucinations for almost 9 years. It always shakes him up, how much he misses him. Decides if this is a dream, he ain’t about to complain.

He keeps riding.

He’s on first watch that night when they settle into a spot, Merle asleep in his tent after having a beer and a smoke. Daryl keeps scanning the treeline and surrounding woods, more out of muscle memory than protection, too distracted thinking about the day he’s just had. Merle’s here, alive and well, being one of the most warm and comforting illusions Daryl’s had in years. He can’t remember the last time he didn’t feel the weight of the world on his shoulders, the last time he didn’t have blood covering his hands. Feel’s like a prick for being so dramatic; it’s not like he’s Maggie, Michonne, or hell - the King. Never had to bare those responsibilities the way they’ve had do. He rubs the back of his neck with his hand as he sits, shifts his focus to something else. Tries to think about what he’s gonna say to Lydia tomorrow. He knows Negans talk with her ended with them both in tears, her storming out; know’s she doesn’t trust any of them anymore. Gives up and sighs when he realises he’s got no choice but to accept that he’s got no fucking idea how to reason with a teenager, how to word things so she can understand, especially with her well earned trust issues and abandonment complex.

Him and Merle switch out a few hours later, Merle on watch and Daryl sleeping. Daryl gives Merle a clap on the back as they pass each other, know’s when he wakes up tomorrow it’s just gonna be him in the Grimes’ basement. He has a brief second where he thinks about saying fuck it and giving Merle a hug, but decides against it. Not like they were ever the touchy feely type to begin with.

When he wakes up the next morning, it’s bright as fuck. There’s birds chirping, there’s whistling, some clinking of a fork hitting metal. Merle’s voice carrying. Daryl pats himself down, takes in how he’s in the same clothes he went to sleep in, the same tent, and quickly gathers his bow and his knife and rushes outside the tent.

“The hell?” Merle yells, doing a double take as Daryl stands there, crossbow up and aimed. “The hell’s got your panties in a twist? Jesus, fuck. You dreamin’ about the chupacabra again? Bigfoot? Good Lord.” He bends down and starts rummaging around his bag, “Here, calm the fuck down, eat this,” holding out a bar and passing it over, muttering under his breath “jump out of the tent, gun’s blazing, fuck me, give me a damn near heart attack.”

Daryl slowly lowers his bow and stands there for a few seconds before stepping forward slowly and grabbing the snack, staring at Merle the whole time. He takes a bite or two then throws it back before tightening his grip on his weapon, bending down to grab a bottle for some water then heads for the trees without a word. Merle calls out to him, telling him to catch some rabbit instead of squirrel this time. Daryl doesn’t acknowledge him.

He’s still there when Daryl gets back.

Daryl decides he’s fucking done with this dream. Doesn’t get why his subconscious couldn’t give him a greatest hits reel. Like, yeah, let him remember his time with his brother, but maybe also let him relive some of the early days on the farm or some of the early days in Alexandria. Remember the run that he, Jesus, Tara, and Aaron went on that one time. Maybe remember the first time Judith attempted to say his name. The day he and Dog found each other. Maybe even let him relive some days before the fucking world ended.

It takes less than a minute for the guilt to set in, instantly feeling like a prick. Merle died for him and for his family, and he’s fucking missed his brother. So what if Dream Merle never stops complaining? He fucking wishes life would go back to being this simple, when these were his biggest problems. Wishes Merle could’ve made it this far. Could’ve seen what was to come, what they could’ve built.

When he wakes up the next morning, Merle’s still there. Still chatty, still loud, still wanting food they don’t have. Still got 20 different opinions about things that don’t even matter anymore.

4th morning in and he wakes up to Merle having a smoke and thinks maybe, possibly, something’s going on. Maybe it’s more than just a dream. Feels like he should try and figure his shit out. Weighs the options of it being just a really elaborate dream, or a massive mind fuck hallucination. His mind provides the term ‘time travel’ but Daryl’s not gonna fucking acknowledge that. Wonders if he got a head injury without realising and he’s in a coma. Maybe this is what Rick felt like back when he woke up at the start of all this. He quirks a lip up at the irony.

The 5th day in is when he knows something is definitely fucking going on.

The 5th day is when they run into the Atlanta group. He spots Shane and T-Dog first, then Glenn and Lori. Daryl steps back, tries to think if he’s ever dreamt about Lori or about Shane, while Merle steps forward and does all the talking again. It’s an exact replica of the last time this happened. They all come to the same uneasy agreement to let the brothers stay, Glenn swaying the result in their favour again. Daryl feels sick. Glenn’s talking, saying how it’ll be good to have people that know how to hunt, who know what’s safe to eat from the woods, how useful it’ll be to have more muscle. Daryl feels like he can’t fucking breath. He wants to run up to him, wants to fucking hug him, wants to throw up right there, on the spot. Instead he just stands there, takes in Glenn’s face and the lack of blood or brain matter, the way he looks and sounds so young, and tries to swallow the lump in his throat and breath. Merle starts moving forward and Daryl follows on auto pilot.

They make their way slowly onto the camp, the rest of the group looking as standoffish about the Dixon brothers staying as they did the first time. Daryl lets Merle deal with their shit, grabs his bow and heads out into the woods straight away. He hears Andrea scoff behind him.

Out in the woods, he tells himself he’s gonna take a moment to properly think shit through now, for real this time. Try and figure about what’s happening to him. Ain’t no way this is all just a fucking dream. Sure as shit ain’t no coma, either. Shit’s too fucking real. It’s been 10 years since the world went up in shit and he’s had enough knocks to the head to know his memories of the start are gonna be a little hazy. He tries to pinpoint certain moments but it’s rough, tries to remember the specifics of how things originally went down but knows that while he’s observant, always has been, he was still on the outskirts of the group. Wern’t ever really let in on all the details before their time at the farm and he never really put that much effort into learning earlier. He didn’t bother nobody and nobody bothered him.

The start was so fucking simple.

He guesses he remembers the general gist of some things. He can remembers standing back and letting Merle run the show. Doesn't remember Carol ever holding herself like that. Remembers the way Lori looked at him; like he was no better than the geeks, like it was him who her family was threatened by. Doesn't remember Sophia or Carl ever being that small. Remembers how Shane tried to be the leader, loud and tough. Wants to grab a knife and end Shane now, thinking about the story he spun of what happened to Otis. The night Glenn and him found Randall in the woods, neck broken, two sets of foot prints. He remembers Rick, and how he made being a leader look natural, almost effortless, how people just instinctively knew to trust him, to believe in him. How he had the entire group listening to him within a day of setting foot into camp.

The sound of trees rustling brings him back to the present and he snaps into action. Out in the woods ain’t no place to let down your guard, no matter how safe you think you are. He lets himself get pulled back into the task at hand, spotting something moving out of the corner of his eye and shakes himself off, catching everyone some dinner. Specifically aims to get Carls and Glenns favourites even though he knows their tastebuds don’t really adjust to road life until the farm falls.

It’s not enough, but it’s a start.

Glenn thanks him for dinner that night. Lori makes Carl say thanks, too. Sophia and Amy do it without any prompting. Daryl suddenly can’t stomach this, can’t sit here with his family and look at them, knowing whats to come. He excuses himself and goes to sleep wishing with everything in him that he could wake the fuck up now.

Lays there and chews at his thumbnail, thinks he doesn’t know how much longer he can talk to his ghosts.

Later that night in his tent, while Dale and Andrea keep watch and everyone sleeps, he reaches the conclusion that no matter what option he chooses, they’re all fucking crazy.

He’s not ready to deal with everything if it’s a permanent thing. Not ready for any of this to be real, to spend the next 8 years meeting everyone that’s ever mattered to him again. To look at them and remember how they died. Thinks he also isn’t ready to accept this could just be a dream, that he could wake up any minute now in a world without Glenn, without Carl, no Sophia. Most of his family fading back into his memories and dreams.

So he ignores the voice in his head and decides he’s gonna let it go, falls back into the safety of letting himself believe it’s a dream. Convinces himself he doesn’t wanna make waves if he’s just injured and unconscious and this is his minds way of trying to let himself heal. Even goes as far as to let himself feel pissed off about his minds idea of taking a peaceful trip down memory lane is by taking him to the beginning of the end, when the world went to shit.

If he’s being real with himself though, he has to admit that maybe those first few months of the apocalypse weren’t all that bad for him. It was just him and Merle and the bikes and his crossbow. No money problems, no close calls with the law, no more upperclass or businessmen around to look down on him for being redneck trailer trash.

He’s always felt more at home in the woods than any four walls and roof, knows how to navigate the stars, has been living off the land since before he could write. He was thriving when all this began. Wern’t close enough to anyone outside of Merle, never had anyone to worry about, anyone to lose.

The world turned upside down and he came out on top.

Merle brings up the plan to rob the camp a few nights later. They’re on watch together, Daryl having rigged up the perimeter with some string and cans; so they’re kinda just standing around, staring into the night. He talks under his breath with Daryl just in earshot, saying how they need to figure out the best things to take, then haul ass when they do. Whispers that they’re just gonna take the most useful stuff, how it’s not like these city slickers are gonna make it much further anyway. How they’re doing them a favour. Daryl thinks about Glenn in Alexandria, everything that went down with Nicholas and Noah. Throws his mind back to the prison, when he carried Carol out of the tombs after she survived for days on her own, after everyone had considered her dead. Takes a steadying breath and walks away, throwing a ‘whatever.’ over his shoulder.

They’ve been at the camp for just under two weeks when Merle goes to leave with Glenn and the others for the city. That’s when he starts to open himself up to the time travel option.

Everything up until this stage has been more or less calm. He gets up, he hunts, he takes watch, he sleeps. Rinse and repeat. Nothing strenuous, nothing life changing, just a peaceful two weeks of hanging out with his brother and his family.

He’d been rationalising everything to himself, telling himself that if he’s going through trauma and his mind’s officially breaking after 10 years of tragedies and losses, then this is okay. He’s happy to hang out here, back when things were simple and easy. He’s happy to see Carl and Sophia get homeschooled and run around and be kids. Happy to see Carl and Lori back together. More than happy to see Glenn float around camp and get into everything, learn about cars, hang out with the kids, plan trips to the city. Pretty fucking content to sit back and watch Carol and Sophia walk around together.

But then Merle mentions the city run, and Shane and Lori are having secret meetings outside camp together, and Ed’s going stir crazy, ranting about being stuck in the woods for weeks on end with no rescue mission in sight. Dales on top of the RV everyday, setting his watch, being on guard. And it’s too familiar. It’s fucking suffocating. It’s exactly how it went down the first time. Before he realises it, he’s volunteering himself to go on the run instead.

Merle laughs.

Glenn looks between the two brothers, trying to figure out the best approach. Daryl’s better in the woods, not that Merle’s bad, but Daryl’s got more patience than Merle could dream. He always comes back with more food than the older brother, will spend all day out there to make sure everyone at camp gets a full ration, even takes the time to help dress and skin the animals, showing the girls how to do it properly. Merle’s not as particular, more than happy to stroll back into camp with half the amount and ready to dump it and let the ladies do the work.

“You’re needed here, it’s fine. Merle can come with us.” Glenn reasons, “We’re only gonna be gone a few hours, in and out, no problem. We can handle Merle.”

“Yeah, that ain’t happenin’,” Daryl heads to his tent, grabs his crossbow and his backpack, double checks he has his knives, and heads out towards the truck.

Merle stops laughing the second he sees Daryls face and sees the serious look in his eyes, like Daryl thinks he’s already won the argument.

“Now, now, little brother, what on earth do you want with Atlanta?” he puts a hand on Daryl’s shoulder, holding him in place, “You stay here, keep these people feed, and Ol’ Merle will head into the city, keep these city slickers in line. We’re all good here.”

Merle makes a move to head to the truck, nodding at Glenn that things are settled, before Daryl speaks up again.

“You’re staying here, man. Glenn says the city’s overrun. If he’s gonna take a group for the first time, they need’a be quiet and quick. That ain’t you.” Daryl holds Merles eyes for a moment before moving past him, looking to Glenn and raising his eyebrows. “We good to go?”

Glenn glances between the brothers one last time before nodding at Daryl. “Yeah. We’re good. We gotta go now though, if we wanna be back before dark.”

Daryl nods and looks at Merle one last time before making a move to go stand near the back of the truck, waiting for T-Dog while everyone slowly resumes what they were doing. Merle stays standing in the same spot, looking on in part disbelief and part pissed off. Daryl looks on from the corner of his eye, watching as Merle stalks off to his tent before stomping back out and heading for the trees. The camp seems to let out a sigh of relief in his absence and Daryl feels guilty to leave them with him, especially considering his mood, but then remembers how Merle never returned from this trip the first time.

He tells himself that this is the right move, that Merle can make it this time, he can grow to care for the group the same way Daryl did the first time ‘round. Merle can be a fucking asshole at the best of times, but he knows how to care when you give him a reason. If you’re unlucky enough to have him as an enemy, you better run; but if you’re one of the lucky ones that he considers kin, he’ll have your back for life.

#me posting this for me -4 followers :))))))))))))))))))))))#im never gonna finish this becos my writing is not It but i can try!!!!!!!!!!!!#everything about like s7+ can be read as au becos i havnt seen it so im just connecting dots of gifsets and rants i see #m #text

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sonofsaviors · 1 year

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❝ once upon a time, i had someone i cared about. ❞ (from jude)

Logan doesn't ask what happened; he already has an idea. It's what always happens, in one form or the other, a story that can be told a thousand ways, but the end result is the same.

"I'm sorry, kiddo." And even with saying those words, he knows they don't help. It's just something you say nowadays. He shifted one arm, holding it away from himself to invite her for a hug.

#fvrsaeken #Judith Grimes - The Little Asskicker

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justjessame · 4 years

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The Deal Chapter 13

Once Dad realized that Lori hadn’t made it, his overwhelming grief took on a tinge of rage. Possessed with the need to do SOMETHING, I watched helplessly as he grabbed his axe and moved purposely back inside the prison. My own grief, and that of my family, gripped my heart and made my chest ache.

Hershel, sensing that I needed some kind of reassurance, asked to give the baby her first check up. I was reluctant to hand her over. He smiled reassuringly at me, and took her gently from my arms. After a brief, but thorough examination, he handed her back to me and I felt myself sigh. She felt so tiny, so precious and I knew I had a new reason to live.

Hershel told our remaining group that she was healthy, but wouldn’t stay that way. “She needs formula. And soon, or she won’t survive.” I felt the tears burn my eyes again, and then felt Daryl come closer to me, looking down at her in my arms.

“Nope. No way.” He gritted out, seeing my eyes flush with tears. “We ain’t losing nobody else. I’m going for a run.”

Maggie was quick to agree. “I’ll back you up.”

“I’ll go too,” Glenn offered. I felt another clench of my heart. These people, not my blood, but still my family were willing to do anything to save my baby sister.

I looked up at Daryl and smiled through my pain. His hand came up to cup my cheek and I closed my eyes at the comforting gesture. It was finally decided that only Daryl and Maggie needed to go. Since I was going to be occupied with the baby, Glenn would try to find Dad and see if some kind of sense could be talked into him. He hadn’t even held the baby or acknowledged her yet.

After Daryl and Maggie leave, I sit down at a table and hold the baby as Carl drops next to me. “Want to hold her?” I ask him, smiling at how he’s looking at her. He gulps, but nods. I carefully hand him to her, showing him how to cradle her head. I smile at him, watching as he studies her. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

Carl looked into my eyes and smiled. The pain is still there, but so is something I can truly understand. Devotion. To our little sister. To our family. “She’s perfect.” He whispers, watching her make sucking motions with her mouth.

I watch as Glenn and Hershel walk past with shovels. The two remaining prisoners, seemingly uncertain stand nearby. “How many?” I ask, quietly, but loudly enough for Glenn to hear.

“A third of our group in one day.” Glenn answers, and I am terrified to ask who.

Hershel, a man who rarely curses, gives his own input. “Because of one asshole.” They walk further away, and I watch them begin to dig the graves of our fallen. I sigh, feeling more pain than I care to. I take in the remaining members of our group, and my stomach flips. Carol isn’t here. Neither is T-Dog. And Lori, of course. I feel a sob building, but won��t allow it to surface. Enough tears, Jessi, enough. It won’t bring them back. It won’t help feed the baby. It won’t do any fucking good at all.

HOURS LATER~

Glenn, after digging the graves for the dead, went looking for Dad. When he came back, alone, he could barely meet my eyes. I sighed, knowing that could mean nothing good. I asked, quietly while letting the baby be held by Beth, if Dad was still alive.

Glenn nodded, but he still didn’t look relieved. “It’s bad, Jessi. He’s not taking it very well.”

I squeezed his arm, thanking him for trying. Walking back to Beth, I reached for my baby sister. Finding as much comfort in her as she did in me. I heard Daryl and Maggie come back, and then Daryl was holding a bottle filled with formula out to me. I shook my head and he gave me a grin. Taking the baby from me, he gently cradled her and offered her the bottle.

“She got a name yet?” He asked me, smiling as he watched her suck at the bottle he’d provided.

Carl answered. “Not yet. But I was thinking maybe Sofia.” I felt a tear slide down my cheek. “Then there’s Carol, too. And… Andrea. Amy. Jacqui. Patricia. Or...Lori...I don’t know.” My cheeks were damp from the knowledge that we’d lost so many. Enough to name far too many babies.

Daryl had been watching me while Carl gave the options. He turned his attention to the baby who was sucking greedily from the prepared bottle. “Yeah… You like that?” He was being so soft with her, finally showing the rest of our group just how perfect he really was. “Huh? Lil Asskicker.” The group chuckled and he looked up with a small smile. “Right? That’s a good name, right?” He focused back on the baby, talking to her softly. “Lil Asskicker. You like that, huh? You like that, sweetheart?”

I’d only considered having a family with Daryl once. After that, the world and it’s bullshit took over. But watching him hold my baby sister, talking to her softly, and seeing just how wonderful he’d be at being a dad, I felt the hope take hold. One day, I promised myself, he’d have his own baby. With me. And I’d watch this scene play out differently.

The next morning, after waking up with the baby, feeding, and changing her, I watched as Daryl took her into his arms. He was a natural. And just like the night before, I wanted so badly to give him a family of our own.

“You’re starin’.” He whispered, taking a break from telling the baby how sweet and pretty she was. I smiled and moved closer to him, looking down at her and leaning my head on his shoulder.

“I was thinking about how much I want to give you this.” I answered quietly, reaching out to touch her soft head. “You’re amazing with her.” I felt his lips brush the top of my head. Tilting my head back, I offered my lips to him. He smiled and brushed mine with his.

“I’d love it.” He said, pressing his forehead to mine. “Love to have a baby with ya.”

And as though we could guess the other’s thoughts, we both said, “just not right now.” I giggled and he gave a chuckle. “One day,” I promised and his eyes darkened, either from the idea of making that baby, or the image of our family, I couldn’t decide.

The others were up and about soon enough. And then, surprising us all, Dad came into the room. He wanted to check on us, but he looked horrible. I felt fear clutch my heart as he took the baby and smiled down at her. He looked like a shell of his former self. He made sure that Carl and I were alright. We discussed her name, and Carl remembered the name of his favorite teacher. Judith. I nodded my agreement. While naming her for one of our lost, giving her a name untinged by that sorrow was a better option. And so, Judith Grimes, joined our family officially.

#daryl dixon x ofc #eventual negan x ofc #mention of smut #angst #character death #The Walking Dead #alternate universe #rick grimes daughter

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multiplefandomfics · 5 years

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Grimes sisters chapter 14

sorry you haven’t heard from us in a while but gues what? I’m back so here you go. i promise that I’m almost done with our Grimes sisters fan fiction. so to show my good will you’re gonna get a few chapters tonight. have fun reading and as always, feedback is greatly appreciated.

Pairings: Shane x Fabienne; Daryl x Alex

Warnings: drama, walkers, blood, near death experience, angst

Words: 2128

Rick POV

A few weeks had passed. Well a little over two months to be exact. On a tour a few weeks ago Daryl and I have found some pigs and chicken that were miraculously still unharmed so we took them with us and Carl and I built a shack for them to live in. That way we had eggs and could occasionally butcher one or two of them.

My sisters and Carol had been taking care of the plants and we could already harvest cucumbers, beans, tomatoes and potatoes.

I was more than happy that we had managed to build a good and steady life together. Nothing too out of the ordinary had happened the only thing that could have become a problem were the always enlarging herds that threaten to overrun the fence. Wooden stems had already been planted against it from the inside to steady the metal fence. We even assigned some of us to stab the walkers in shifts.

But most of the time more had been gathered the next day.

Fabienne and Alex were a different topic. They were high up on cloud nine but I decided against telling them my opinion. Now and again I had my arguments with Shane because he treated Fabienne a little too rough for my liking. Of course Fabi assured me she could handle him but I still wasn’t okay with it. And I had learned long ago that arguing with my sisters was useless.

So because I couldn’t influence what was going on in their life, I decided to concentrate more on my kids. Loris death was still prominent in our heads but Carl proved himself to be a good big brother and a fantastic help. He loved Judith so much and would do anything for her. I sometimes couldn’t believe that that was the same kid he was before. In that moment, when I was lost in thought, my son came over to me with his sister in his arms. I had just started to feed the pigs and Judith seemed to enjoy them squeaking and splashing mud all over the place. Seeing them smile and feeling that they’re happy made me realize that it maybe wasn’t such a bad thing to have a baby growing up in all of this. Carefully I took Judy from him and showed her the pigs.

“Hey cuties.” we suddenly heard a voice behind us and when we turned around we saw it was Alex with Fabi trailing behind her. Judith started giggling upon seeing her aunts so Fabi took her from me “Well hello Judith. How is my favorite little nice today?” and shook her around a little. “A kid looks good on you.” Alex snickered and made Fabi look baffled at her but then she broke out in a huge smile. “I’m definitely not there yet.” she responded. Clever decision.

After a while of just enjoying the sun Shane and Daryl joined our group. “Break time?” Daryl grumbled at us. “hey there little asskicker.” he poked her on the nose lovingly. Even though she had a name by now he still called her little asskicker. Daryl was definitely good with her. She always stopped crying when he took her in his arms. Who would have thought that? The archer took Judith from Fabienne and held her close to his chest while she started grabbing at his long hair giggling to herself. People say that babies had a good intuition and people skills so I was sure that Daryl was a good guy.

“Whatcha say, are we gonna go on a run tomorrow?” Daryl wanted to know. We had been wanting to for the last few days but we always postponed it due to the walker almost pushing in the fences. We had needed everyone we could get. “If it isn’t gonna be as bad as it was...” I started but Alex interrupted me self assured “we can do it. You just concentrate on getting medicine and baby stuff, alright?” I knew she was right but I wasn’t feeling to well with the thought of having to leave them all here alone. Carl seemed to have noticed my discomfort so he intervened “I’m gonna take care of them dad.” I was so proud of him he had grown so much over the past year. So confident and strong. “Alright. I think that we can manage that somehow.” Daryl nodded shortly and handed me back my daughter before giving Alex a kiss “Come on Shane we gotta hold watch now.” he urged Shane and said his goodbye. The grumbling baby in my arms alerted me of the time and that she was hungry so I brought her inside to Carol and build up a few more wooden poles to hold the fence. All the while Maggie, Glenn, Fabienne and Alex killed a few more biters. And fortunately the rest of the day went by without any incidents.

The next morning Daryl and I started early. Relieved I saw that the herd at the fence wasn’t too big this time so I hoped they would manage it alone. Of course it always felt odd to me to leave them alone, because I wanted them so be safe. “Don’t overthink it. They’ll be fine.” Daryl tried to calm me down while I was staring thoughtfully out of the window.

The grocery store we had decided on raiding that day was still full of all kinds of supplies but the downside was that it was surrounded by walkers. We lit a few flares that got their attention and pulled them away from the doors. That technique we had developed the last times we had been there. Daryl and I parted to cover as many aisles as we could and loaded as much stuff into our bags that we found. When we walked back to our car Daryl excused himself “I’ll be back in half an hour.” and then he was just gone. I was wondering what he had in mind.

Alex POV

Rick and Daryl were on a run since early that morning. That left us stabbing biters through the fences. The last weeks there hadn’t been one day where it had been quiet. More and more of the undead gathered outside and almost pushed our fences in. we even had to support them with wood. That morning Carl and Shane were on patrol. “Rick was quiet the past few weeks. There was almost no arguing between him ans Shane about you.” I said to Fabienne. Of course she knew what I meant. “I think that’s a good thing. I was really getting tired of them constantly bickering or yelling at each other.” well sometimes he was still giving his thoughts to everyone who didn’t wanna hear them and that sometimes didn’t end well. Even I had been lectured again by him. Daryl was a good guy. Rick trusted him like he was his own brother but he was the man by my side and Rick was worried that I would get hurt.

Suddenly we heard a loud cracking sound. Damn it. A pole had broken. Fabienne stormed over and tried to steady it but another one broke. “Fuck!” I yelled and we pushed against the fence together. But we didn’t think it was gonna hold much longer and just a second later the border that separated us from them collapsed. We had to sprint out of the danger zone but my foot caught on a root and I fell to the ground so Fabienne turned around panicked and helped me back to my feet but a walker had already grabbed for my leg and was almost there to bite into it when a loud banging sound coud be heard and the walker fell lifeless down to the ground.

We looked up and saw that in had been Carl who shot him so we kept on running because we didn’t have time to think about how close I had actually come to death.

After we had closed another gate behind us Shane had already thrown us some rifles and we had started shooting the herd. The past weeks we had tried to save ammunition by only stabbing not shooting them but in that situation we couldn’t avoid it. It was a really hard task but after an agonizing half hour or so they laid all dead before us. Suddenly I noticed how exhausted I was after the adrenaline had worn off and I fell to the ground, with the others next to me. “that was just a matter of time.” Shane sighed. “You all okay?” he looked through our faces. I just nodded. Too shocked and tired to ask but I looked worriedly over to Fabi. But she seemed to be fine too.

A truck is placed in front of the locked gate because we weren’t sure how long that was gonna last and the following day we could start with rebuilding the knocked down fence. While Shane and Carl were patrolling again Fabi and I went inside to calm down a bit more. We had really gotten lucky out there. Could have gotten much worse. Sitting down on my bed my thoughts wandered to how to repair the fences most effective but first we needed to wait until Rick came back.

“I was so afraid something was gonna happen to you… hadn’t Carl reacted that fast...” Fabienne didn’t finish that sentence because she was tearing up by then so I hugged her tight to make her feel safe. I loved my sister more than anything and I was as much afraid for her than she was for me. “Everything went fine. I’m okay. You’re okay. What else can we ask for?” I tried to cheer her up. “You know what? You calm down a bit and get a goods night sleep and I’ll take your shift tonight, okay?” I offered her. She hadn’t had much time for herself or for Shane lately. Always busy my big sister. She had taken a lot of night shifts recently so she didn’t even get enough sleep. Fabienne was so eager then because she didn’t wanna lose the home we had made.

After my proposal she immediately wanted to protest but I chimed in “no discussions darling. Take some time off and calm down. What you do can’t be healthy.” I gave her a kiss on the cheek and took off. How often had she taken my shifts over the past weeks? She had wanted to give me time with Daryl. His shoulder had still been hurting a lot and he only calmed and kept the pressure off of it when we were alone.

When they arrived back Rick stormed into the cell block. “Are you alright? I saw the fence is broken and Carl told me what happened.” behind him Daryl stood in the doorway. He wasn’t a man of big emotions but I always noticed what he felt and in that moment I knew he was worried. He looked so handsome throwing me glances through his bangs. But I gave my attention back to Rick who gave us both a kiss then said “we’re gonna work something out. I don’t want to give up our home here without a fight.”

When the following silence had passed I asked if they had found something of interest into the room. Daryl showed us two big backpacks of supplies and I sighed in relieve. We really needed that.

We did one last check outside to see if everything was gonna hold for the night but it seemed to be alright. Glenn and Maggie switched with Shane and Carl.

When the evening rolled around all of us ate together again while the men were standing in a corner probably talking about how we were gonna fix the fence the following day. “I gotta say Shane has grown on me.” I whispered to my sister who turned to me smiling. Happy that I finally approved. I gotta say that it wasn’t like I hadn’t liked him before but you had to be careful around him. He could go from 0 to 100 in 0.4 seconds if someone said something he didn’t like. But I could see that he was nice enough and a good guy for my sister. Maybe he had really changed. And Fabienne seemed really genuinely happy with him. She hugged me close to her chest and started to cough suddenly. “you good?” I asked her. “Yeah just a dry throat.” she dismissed the topic and we had a really nice evening from then on...

#The Walking Dead #thewalkingdeadgirls #Grimes Sisters #shane x ofc #daryl x ofc #original #series

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shimmershae · 5 years

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For real, though. What’s going to happen to the Grimes babies when Michonne leaves?

I’m not even going to entertain the thought that she might die because nope. That would just be wrong. I’ve already made up a little head canon that she takes off looking for Rick.

So. Back to my original question.

What becomes of Judith and little RJ?

If she takes them with her, there’s literally no Grimes connection left on the show and that just doesn’t feel right.

TPTB did the time jumps for a lot of reasons, mostly to facilitate plots that were otherwise too unbelievable pre-Season 9 (some still too unbelievable after, too). Aging Judith falls in there somewhere because they wanted to give her a bigger role in things and I believe they want that to continue.

So to my way of thinking Judith for sure stays. And I’m torn about RJ. I have a hard time buying that Michonne leaves that little cutie pie, but I have an even harder time picturing her possibly endangering him and taking him on her quest to find his daddy.

Who becomes their guardians?

Aaron?

He seems to be a wonderful daddy, but there’s only him and he already has Gracie.

Rosita and Co.?

She’s already got her own complicated predicament to deal with so I’m counting her out.

Do they just stay with redshirt Barbara?

That would be a total cop out.

Shipping them to Hilltop would have the same effect.

Personally, I’d love Daryl and Carol to take them in and protect them but not really for ship-related reasons, although that would be an added bonus. No. I’d love them to step in because they’re the only people left on the whole show that has been there and known Asskicker from the beginning and out of those left they know Michonne best too.

But there’s Lydia and Carol coming to terms with her grief over Henry.

Just what in the hell are TPTB going to do?

Your thoughts?

And please. Keep any dislike or hate about pairings or characters out of this and discuss like even keeled adults.

Fair warning though. If Negan even comes up as an option, I just...ugh. All I see when I look at him is poor Glenn so please. Anybody but him.

#The Walking Dead #Season 10 spoilers #maybe #speculation #things that make me go hmm

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starlessea · 3 years

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Here Comes the Sun: XVIII. Seven Nation Army (Daryl Dixon/Reader)

Series Masterlist: Here Comes the Sun

Summary: Daryl Dixon scares the hell out of you climbing out of that damn creek. It takes hauling his ass halfway across Georgia and taking a bullet for him to realise that you're not half bad. He slowly starts to come around, despite grumbling about how much he doesn't like your singing, or that you can't use a gun for shit - and don't get him started on that ugly yellow tent of yours. It takes him a while before he starts to see for himself that he's found a best friend for life, and that he doesn't actually mind the colour yellow that much, after all.

Words: 6040

Chapter Warnings: Language, Not full-on nsfw but QUITE SPICY, Some canon divergence.

"You're good with 'er." Daryl said, like the words had just slipped from his mouth without him realising.

You held Judy in your arms, cradling her against your chest as she looked up at you with wide, innocent eyes. Daryl seemed equally as mesmerised by the baby, as he stroked his thumb over her supple cheek and watched her give him a gummy smile in return.

You glanced over at the man, leaning against him where he stood. "So are you." You told him, but he shook his head in response.

"Nah I ain't." He muttered, his gaze still resting over Judith like she was the most precious thing in the world.

You hummed back, not wanting to break the moment you were having by arguing with him. You wished that things would stay like this forever - that Judith wouldn't cry, and the governor would never come, or that Daryl would not have to leave.

"Where are you going?" You asked the man, as he took a few steps away.

He held up a hand, gesturing for you to wait, and offered a warm smile to reassure you of his return.

"Jus' gimme a minute." He mumbled, walking towards your shared cell.

You raised your eyebrow, watching him disappear behind the bars, before turning your attention back to Judy. You thought that she had Lori's eyes, as they stared up at you in childlike wonder. You continued humming your song to her, now that the man was out of earshot and wouldn't tease you as you sang it. Daryl had suggested sticking the walkman headphones on her every time she cried, but Carol had scolded him for even thinking of the idea. You giggled, remembering the exchange, and how you just watched the two of them get along like old friends whilst you sat in the corner bouncing Judith over your lap.

Daryl came back not even a few minutes later, dragging his rucksack over the floor. He didn't have many possessions to begin with, so you cocked your head in his direction - confused about what could possibly be in there. He returned to your side, resting his arm around your shoulder as he hovered over it to make a face at Judith. You giggled, wondering what the others would say if they had the pleasure of seeing Daryl like this. Though, at the same time, you almost wanted to be completely selfish and not share that side of him with anyone.

You watched as the man fumbled around in the backpack for a bit, before pulling out a familiar, child-size sheriff's hat that couldn't possibly fit on his head. He grinned at you, taking in the way your eyes lit up in response.

"Said we'd give it to lil' asskicker, didn't we?" He teased, before placing the hat gently over the baby's head.

The sight made you want to melt. Daryl began to call Rick over to see, but you slapped his chest and hushed him before he did, wanting to enjoy the moment for yourselves just a little while longer. Daryl narrowed his eyes at you, but his expression soon softened as he noticed the way you stared down at Judith, who was staring right back. You felt like you were holding the future in your arms - and that future wore a sheriff's hat and went by the name of Judith Grimes. What you wouldn't give for a camera; you wanted so desperately to take a photo of her with her brother, and gift a copy to Rick as a surprise.

Daryl had his hand resting over the small of your back. It had hovered there at first, uneasy as usual, but it seemed like he'd forgotten his shyness for a brief moment as he watched the pair of you. You felt like a makeshift, adoptive family, and you wouldn't want it any other way. The hat started to slip down Judith's head, still too big for her yet, and Daryl tipped it back up gently with his knuckle. It was like an impromptu version of peek-a-boo. Everytime the hat fell and covered her face, Daryl would prop it back into position and the baby would smile. You weren't sure you could take it anymore; the entire exchange felt too adorable to keep from the rest of the group any longer.

Just as you were about to call for them, Judy grabbed onto Daryl's finger with her entire fist - which still wasn't able to close all the way around it. You laughed softly at the man's expression, as he stayed perfectly motionless in fear of making her let go.

"I think she likes her uncle Daryl." You whispered, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek in your attempt to unstick the frozen statue.

To that, you could see a faint blush spread over his skin, but this time you decided not to tease him about it.

The two of you made your way to the communal area after a few more minutes, and the others quickly gathered around to get a look at Judith before they left. It was a nice break from the tension in the atmosphere, and it helped you forget, too. Rick gave his daughter a kiss and headed outside to test the vehicle they'd be driving.

Soon, the meeting with the governor would be taking place. Andrea had set it up, like she'd promised, and so Rick, Daryl and Hershel would be heading out under the guise of diplomacy. However, you couldn't say for sure that you believed in the plan very much. As you'd all established before, the governor just didn't seem like the type of man who'd let both sides co-exist peacefully.

Carl had taken his sister from you at some point, and you watched as he compared their hats and made Carol laugh with his antics. Behind you, the Greenes were bidding goodbye to their father and reminding him to be careful, and Daryl approached you under the amused eye of Merle.

"Rick says it's time to go." He told you, affirming the words you'd been dreading to hear.

You put on your best, bravest face and shot him a smile that only faltered a little. He caught it, though - he always did. He pulled you into a hug, and you leant your forehead against his chest, feeling his heartbeat there.

"Be safe." You murmured against him. "Come home this time or I'll kill you myself."

The man chuckled, which you felt rumble through his torso. You looked up at him with a playful smile and he caught your lips, giving you a quick kiss there when he thought no one was looking. In moments like these, it was refreshing to get a glimpse of the old, shy Daryl - never wanting to be in the spotlight. You nudged him gently with your elbow, sending him on his way with a teasing ruffle of his hair. Perhaps you were being too nonchalant about the situation, but you didn't want to dwell on it - or you'd become a crumbling mess like the last time.

You stood next to Beth as the rest of the group filtered out, and the others returned back to whatever they'd been doing before. The girl smiled at you, watching the way your eyes followed Daryl's back as he left the cell block.

"I'll never get used to that." She said quietly, looking between the two of you.

You thought that she'd perhaps seen the exchange take place, but you couldn't really say that you minded.

"Me neither." You confessed, and Beth giggled in response.

You remembered the jokes you'd shared with her, back at the farmhouse. You'd made a promise to talk to her about boys whenever she was sad, and let her laugh at your misfortune in return. Yet, things hadn't exactly played out like that. Daryl was a world away from those bad experiences you'd once recounted to her, but you somehow seemed even more nervous to talk about him in their place. Perhaps it was because you wanted to keep the man all to yourself, just like earlier - as though the very act of speaking about him would disclose some kind of secret you weren't willing to share. Daryl Dixon was yours, but you felt almost too shy to admit it.

"I used to think that Daryl would be the last man standing." Beth confessed, startling you. "Out of all of us."

You nodded back, letting her words sink in.

"I can see why. He's like a one-man army." You replied with a smirk, thinking back on all the times he had proved himself so.

Though Beth shook her head, seeming to almost disagree with herself. You stayed silent, awaiting her response.

"But I don't think that anymore." She told you, like she was completely certain of herself. "It'll probably be you."

Immediately, you raised an eyebrow, wondering if you'd misheard her. Beth's expression didn't change, so you let out a snort in disbelief - amused by the seriousness of it all.

"Me?" You repeated, looking over at her like she'd gone mad. "Why's that?"

The youngest Greene bit her lip, as if deliberating whether to tell you her next words. Eventually, she gave you a light-hearted smile, as though having finally decided to reveal a secret.

"Because there's no way Daryl would let you go down before he did."

You spent the majority of your time waiting in your cell, trying to keep yourself busy by cleaning it up. Daryl had hauled his mattress into the room, and the two of you had abandoned the bunk frame in favour of pushing the two beds together on the floor - creating a makeshift double. You'd also stolen an extra sheet from the laundry room and hung it over your doorway for some privacy. It was still a far cry from the decor of Hershel's farmhouse, but it was starting to feel more comfortable nonetheless. Daryl had given you some thin rope from his rucksack, too, so you'd been able to replace the fraying string from which your polaroids had been strung up. It still wasn't a home yet, but it could be.

The last few days had been tense, so you couldn't blame yourself for slumping down onto the mattress and staring up into a starless, stone sky for a while. You followed the cracks on the ceiling like you were trying to create patterns there, and eventually you felt your eyelids grow heavy as sleep overcame you easier than it had done for as long as you could remember.

When you woke up, the room was dimmer than it had been before, and you thought that it had to be late evening. You'd roused to the sound of footsteps approaching, echoing over the catwalk as though the person wore thick, heavy boots. You smiled to yourself, instantly recognising who they belonged to. The metal doorway squeaked open, and some light filtered in as Daryl lifted the sheet hanging there, letting it fall back down behind him as he entered. You greeted him, but he was wordless in response. He shrugged his leather vest off and let it fall to the floor, not even bothering to place it anywhere.

You raised an eyebrow at the man, debating whether to scold him for making the cell messy when you'd spent your whole day trying to make it nice for him when he got back. Yet, you took one glance at Daryl's face and decided against it. The man looked exhausted. Probably not physically, you realised, but definitely mentally. He seemed to have a permanent scowl tacked onto him, and you could make out the frown lines over his forehead even in the poor lighting. So, you said nothing when the man tugged off his boots and flung them at the wall - where they fell with a thud into a pile.

Sitting up on the mattress, you plumped your pillow against your back and rubbed your eyes. You could almost feel the stress radiating off Daryl as he paced back and forth, so you patted the spot beside you and pulled back the covers to invite him in. He eyed you for a second, as if considering the offer, before taking a seat there. Though, he didn't allow himself to lay down or make himself comfortable, and instead stayed sat over the edge of the mattress with his back to you. Slowly, you crawled over to him, before perching on your knees and resting your head on his shoulder.

"How'd it go?" You whispered, but knew you could probably guess the answer.

Daryl's back was tense; you could feel it. Tentatively, you began to knead your fingers over it, trying to work out the knots in his muscles. Instead of flinching like he usually did, you felt the man relax into you as you pressed your knuckles along his spine.

He growled, but the sound became lost in his throat as you rubbed along his shoulder blades. "It ain't gonna work out." He muttered, eyes closed as he said it.

You hummed in response, more preoccupied with the sounds the man was letting out than his words. It reminded you of being back at the farm, and those days where he'd try to relieve the tension built up in your stiff arms and neck from learning how to shoot.

"Why?" You asked, feeling the deep breath he took underneath your palms.

"Jus' ain't." He replied, but his voice came out strained.

You ran your thumbs down his spine in tandem, all the way from the top of his neck to his lower back, and you felt him shiver slightly under your touch.

"Okay then." You said, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

Daryl opened his eyes and glanced back at you.

"Tha's it?" He questioned, like he'd expected something more from your response.

You hummed back, returning to pressing over his shoulder blades. Though, the man turned around this time, bringing his legs onto the mattress as he looked over at you.

"I trust you. And I trust Rick." You explained, meeting his questioning eyes. "Whatever we have to do, we'll do."

Daryl frowned, and looked at you like you didn't understand in the slightest. You did, but you didn't want to burden him any more than you had to.

"We gotta gear up for war." He told you, narrowing his eyes like he was trying to convince you of his words - or wait for them to sink in.

You nodded at him, reaffirming that you understood.

"Then we better start loading our guns."

Daryl seemed to break at your words, shaking his head like you'd answered him in the way he'd least wanted. This time you didn't understand, and ran your thumb over the back of his hand to try and coax out an explanation. The man sighed, and took your fingers in his palm as he pressed a kiss over the tips of them.

"Don' wan' ya to have to fight." He admitted quietly, but knew he didn't have a choice.

You shuffled forward a little, so that you were almost sitting in between the man's thighs. His head was low, and he couldn't quite meet your eyes until you spoke.

"That's not up to you to decide." You said, but did so as gently as you could. "It's not like lil' asskicker can hold a rifle yet."

His eyes flickered slightly at the mention of Judith, and you understood that completely. He realised that as much as he wanted to keep you safe, there were now other people who needed his protection more.

"I'm not worried." You reassured him, and pressed both of his cheeks under your palms until he pulled a face that made you laugh.

"I'll be fine because you're here." You told the man, and watched as his expression seemed a little lighter than it had done. "And you're all that I need."

He pulled you into his chest and fell back against the mattress with you in his arms, and you giggled as your noses pressed together. You moved your knees so that they rested either side of his hips, not wanting to crush the man as he squeezed you tight against him.

"What I do to deserve ya?" He mumbled into your hair, and it tickled your ear.

You sat upright, so that you were looking down at him and watching as your hair trailed over his cheeks.

"Hmm, I don't know." You said with a grin. "Bribe me with pretty flowers and music players?"

He smiled back softly, and took the ends of your hair between his fingers, playing with them where he lay. You felt a bit exposed, practically sitting on the man's torso and straddling him as he just stayed perfectly still, content beneath you. For once, you felt like the shy one, as he rubbed over your thigh with his hand - tracing shapes over your jeans. You thought about his question once more, and decided that he deserved a serious answer, too.

"When I first saw you trying to haul yourself up that cliff, you gave me a purpose." You admitted smally, catching his attention like you hadn't even realised you'd lost it. "I think that's reason enough."

Daryl let the small wisps of your hair fall from his fingers as he looked up, focusing on you completely.

"A purpose?" He asked, like the word was foreign on his tongue.

You nodded, trailing your fingers over his chest absentmindedly.

"Even if it was just to get you back to your camp at first." You mumbled, almost like you were talking to yourself as you voiced your innermost thoughts. "Before that, I was just living day to day."

You smiled at the memory, thinking that it was perhaps your favourite one. You'd felt so young back then, but at the same time so old. The world had really had its way with you before you'd stumbled upon Daryl and his group. You might have only been in your mid-twenties, but those few months after the collapse had aged you more than you cared to admit. It wasn't until you met Daryl that you remembered how it felt to be young again.

"One of the first things you asked me back then was why I helped you." You recalled, letting your nails lightly run across his chest, sliding upwards to the exposed skin of his neck.

He stayed silent, like putty in your hands as you spoke.

"I remember finding it a really hard question to answer." You whispered softly, like you were revealing a secret to him. "I ended up saying that I only wanted the chance to be a good person."

Daryl's skin was warm as you ran your thumb along his jawline, surprised at how docile he'd become under your touch.

"But I think that was a lie." You smiled, and the words felt almost devious to admit. "I'd forgotten what it was to even be a person before I met you."

You leant down to press a kiss to his lips, and pulled away before he could kiss you back.

"Thank you for reminding me, Daryl."

You looked down at the man sweetly, like you'd just poured out your entire heart to him. And, he decided to give you his in return.

Suddenly your world spun like clothes in a washing machine as the man flipped your positions, and you snorted rather unflatteringly as your back hit the mattress. Your legs were still wrapped around his waist, but now he kneeled between them - with your thighs either side. Your laughs soon trailed off as you noticed Daryl's expression, and you suddenly became quiet without having even realised it.

He leant down to capture your lips, but pulled away before you could deepen the kiss - just as you had done.

"Ya can't just go sayin' shit like that an' expect me not to do nothin'." He growled near your ear, and you quickly realised how dangerous your situation had gotten.

You looped your hands around his neck and pulled him back down, threading your fingers through his hair and letting your nails drag along his scalp. He rested one of his palms over the mattress as he hovered above you, but the other one came to your cheek as your lips met again. You could distinguish Daryl's kisses so easily by now; you knew the soft morning ones from the emotional ones with trembling lips, or the teasing pecks that made you laugh - and that's why you could easily tell that this one was needy.

He bit your bottom lip between his teeth and you immediately whimpered against him, feeling your head spin at how fast everything happened. You'd gone from the washing machine to the dryer without even realising it, and you felt yourself get equally as hot and disorientated.

"Daryl-" you mumbled against his lips, hooking your ankles together around the back of his torso.

He moaned in response but said nothing, letting his thumb trail from your cheek to your neck, where he rested it over your quickly beating pulse. You had your palms pressed flat against his chest, rubbing over the area and feeling the warmth radiate from him. You wanted to take the shirt off, and feel his skin over yours, but you were too preoccupied by his lips on you to do so. He kissed you with more pressure, and you whimpered again as you felt yourself becoming more lost to his touches. You'd thought that Daryl Dixon was a shy man, but recently he seemed adamant to prove you wrong

You unintentionally squeezed your thighs tighter around him, as you felt your head being pushed back further into the mattress. Your jeans rubbed against his uncomfortably, and you felt the buttons dig into your hips and chafe your skin every time you moved. You pulled away for a brief second to catch your breath, and took in the dangerous sight of Daryl Dixon.

You realised that perhaps you'd made a mistake - when you looked at him, that is. His lips were swollen a blush red, and his pupils were blown as he watched you, watching him. You looked away first, feeling shy under his gaze. You wondered how this had happened - when it had happened. You hadn't thought of yourself as the nervous one, but you were made nervous for him.

Without meeting his eyes, you tugged at the hemline of his shirt - making it clear what you wanted. He kissed your forehead gently, and you almost got whiplash from how quickly the man could switch from giving you deep, intense kisses to leaving sweet pecks over your skin like he was afraid you might break. He moved back from you, sitting up so that he was kneeling in between your legs, and pulled off his shirt without you having to ask.

You bit your lip, taking in the sight of his barreled chest and toned muscles as he threw the shirt over his shoulder for it to get lost somewhere in the sheets. You didn't get too stare long, because he was back on top of you in an instant - almost like he'd never left. Though, you didn't mind much, because now you could feel the warmth of his skin pressed against your own chest. Softly, you gasped just from the intensity of it, but Daryl quickly caught your lips and silenced it. You ran your hands up his back, feeling the ridges of scars and the contours of his muscles as he held himself up. You allowed your nails to dig into him slightly, enjoying the way he moaned against you as you did.

Even inside the walls of a prison, Daryl's voice sounded so good up against your ear, as he left your abused lips to focus his attention on your neck, instead. You immediately turned your head to the side in response, feeling your cheek press into the pillow and muffle any noises you made there. You tried to stay quiet, but it seemed like Daryl was intentionally out to make you fail. His tongue ran along your neck and you scratched him particularly hard on his back, stuttering out an apology as you removed your hands and clenched the sheets instead.

It didn't seem to bother the man, however, as he continued to work his way down until his teeth grazed over your collarbone and made you cry out. You quickly shot him a warning look, and he glanced up at you for a brief second before he did it again. It felt utterly euphoric, so you moaned under him unintentionally before you felt him chuckle against your skin.

You would have scolded him, or pulled a face, but your words felt so far away that you doubted you'd be able to form a complete sentence even if you tried. One of Daryl's hands had wandered to your waist, and then dipped lower to your hip. His thumb ran over the bone there, and it sent shivers through you as he gripped your skin tighter. You ran your palms over his bare chest in response, still not entirely used to the feeling. He stopped what he was doing, probably leaving some marks over you without you noticing, and ran his finger along the oval collar of your vest.

"Take it off." He mumbled, his lips still pressed against the skin just above it.

A whine left your mouth before you'd even realised it, and you didn't think Daryl Dixon even knew how he sounded right now. He pulled back to look at you, cheeks all flushed and eyes glossy where you lay beneath him, and you nodded.

He helped you shrug the vest over your head, and left it lying next to you on the pillow. You turned away from his eyes almost instantly, feeling more exposed than you had in a while. He had trusted you, and you wanted to be able to give him your trust in return. Yet, you couldn't help but feel shy under a gaze that intense. You reached your arms over your chest, like you were trying to shelter yourself from the cold - despite being incredibly hot.

The man narrowed his eyes at you, not happy with your decision in the slightest. He leant down so that his lips hovered just above your stomach, and you expected him to place a kiss there in hopes of coaxing your arms away. Except, he didn't. He blew a raspberry against your skin and you all but screamed as you wriggled beneath him, and flung your hands out to push him away.

"Stop!" You yelled, but it had come out strained between a mixture of giggles.

You felt the man smile against your stomach as you panted deeply, in utter disbelief about what he'd just done. Your arms rested either side of you, hands tangled in the sheets just like he'd planned, but you weren't happy at the cost you'd had to pay. You glanced down, ready to chide him, but stopped when you noticed how quiet he'd gotten.

Daryl's eyes were fixated on your waist, and he ran his thumb gently over the small scar there - as though afraid to press too hard and hurt you. Your eyes softened when you saw his expression, and the way he chewed his lip between his teeth. You knew that guilty look from a mile away, and you wouldn't let him wear it any longer.

"Don't." You said into the silence, lifting his hand away from the little indentation there.

You brought his knuckles to your lips and left kisses over them, offering him one of your best smiles in hopes of coaxing one out of him in return.

"It was worth it." You told him. "I'd take another bullet for you if I had to."

Daryl let his forehead drop against your hip, like he was completely exasperated by the response, and muttered something below his breath.

"Why's everythin' that comes outta yer mouth so damn sweet?"

He crawled back up the bed and kissed your lips as if to prove his point, and you moaned against him - having missed the feeling. You were chest to chest, skin pressed fully against each other as you arched your back to try and get even closer. Your fingers trailed lightly over his arms, and you could almost make out the rhythm of his heartbeat as your chests heaved together in time. He reached a hand down to the button of your jeans, and pulled away from the kiss to wait for your response.

Nervously, you glanced over towards the entranceway of your cell, only covered by a thin sheet draped there.

"What if someone hears?" You whispered, suddenly aware of how loud you'd perhaps been beforehand.

Daryl dotted some light kisses over your neck, trailing them down as he spoke between each one he gave.

"Don' care." He mumbled, reaching your sternum.

"Don' care if Rick comes to tell us Randall's gone walk about." He said, and tickled your stomach with his lips.

"Don' care if Carol knocks to say the governor's here with an army an' wants his fuckin' walkman back."

He got to your hip, and this time noticed the tattoo that just about peeked out over the top of your jeans. He raised an eyebrow, and you smiled sheepishly in response.

"Don' wanna wait anymore." He said softly, and neither did you.

He sat up and rested his palms either side of you, looking down at your face with the most affection you'd seen from him yet.

"Okay, then." You whispered back, and interlocked your fingers with his. "I'm yours."

You woke up to warm, morning light streaming in through the pale curtain of your cell, and landing on your cheek. Your eyelids fluttered, and it took you a few seconds to adjust to the brightness - feeling the tears well up as you did. You hummed into Daryl's chest, lying over it with your palm resting there. You'd slept so well, but you'd woken up even better.

His bare skin was warm against yours, so much so that you didn't feel the need to pull the sheets up higher to cover you. You rubbed at your eyes, finally opening them to notice that the man was already awake. You'd been tucked in the crook of his neck, your head just over his shoulder, but he'd been looking down at you as you roused from sleep. Shyly, you smiled at him, and hid your face back into his skin. You felt his laugh rumble there, low and groggy.

"You been up long?" You asked, the words coming out thick as you said them.

You felt him shake his head, but weren't too sure if he was telling the truth. His arm rested over your waist, and you had only just become aware of the weight of it as he rubbed his thumb over your hip beneath the covers.

"What is it?" He murmured. "Didn't ask ya 'bout it las' night."

It took you a few seconds to realise what he meant. You shrugged back the sheet, looking at the part of your body he was referring to.

"I think you were a little preoccupied." You teased, and he pinched your skin there in response.

The ink stood out strongly against your paleness, dotted over your lower hip so that it was concealed even when you wore low-rise jeans. You recalled that night back at the Greene farm, where you all shared secrets over the campfire and the group had seemed surprised to discover that you had a tattoo. Nobody else had ever seen it; Daryl was the first.

"It's a rune." You told him, feeling his calloused fingers trace over the lines so carefully. "They were one of the things I studied before all this."

A small blush worked its way onto your cheeks, as you suddenly felt embarrassed under the man's intense gaze.

"Looks like an arrow." He noted, inspecting it closer.

You hummed in response, not having thought of it that way before.

"I guess it does, doesn't it?" You chuckled, thinking how appropriate it was for the archer to have been the one to notice.

"It's the symbol of the Norse god Týr." You explained, and he watched you talk passionately without interrupting. "Have you ever heard of the story of Sigurd?"

Daryl shook his head with a small smile, already knowing that you were going to tell him no matter how he answered.

"In the sagas, he slays the dragon Fáfnir and carves the runes of Týr into his sword." You said, excitedly. "They're meant to be the sign of a warrior. To ensure certain victory."

Daryl seemed perfectly content, gazing down at you as you spoke with so much life in your voice. It reminded you of that first night where you shared a bed together in the Greene's spare room. Even then, having barely known you more than a day, the man allowed you to ramble whilst he listened in silence. He'd made out like he was ignoring you, but every small detail you'd given during those early morning hours he'd seemed to recall - even a few weeks later. But now, you thought it was slightly different. He made no attempt to pretend like he wasn't interested in your stories, or that you talked too much for him to stand. He looked at you like your words were law, but he'd somehow ended up in a prison anyway.

"Tha' why ya weren't scared 'bout facing the governor?" He teased, once you'd finished your brief lesson. "Certain victory?"

You snorted, having only just realised the irony of it all.

"No." You admitted, slapping his chest lightly as you laughed.

Maybe it was the rune, but it was more likely the one-man army at your side who assured you of that victory.

"I think this tattoo would be much more suited to you than it is me." You confessed, tracing its shape over the back of his hand.

He watched you make your invisible markings, and remained wordless as you did so.

"I got it just after I started teaching. To remind myself to be brave." You told him, and this time he was the one to laugh.

"So teachin' students was as hard as slayin' a dragon?" He questioned, and you could practically hear the smirk through his voice.

You raised your head from his chest to look at him in mock offense.

"If I had a student like you, then maybe." You teased, and the man grabbed the sheets and bundled you up in them tightly as you struggled against him.

The two of you lay there for a while, not quite yet ready to face the day. You knew the inevitable would be coming soon, and you wished you could just pause this moment as easily as you paused the songs on your walkman - immortalising it in an old, labelled cassette.

"A lot of the time I don't feel very brave, but I've decided to trust it more recently." You mumbled, feeling the edges of sleep start to return.

Daryl questioned you, before realising that you had carried on with the earlier conversation - seemingly by yourself. You felt him trace over your hip again, but your eyelids were too heavy to look at him.

"There anythin' ya don't know?" He grumbled, but it was too playful to be considered so. "Yer too smart for yer own good, Sunshine."

You hummed against his chest, wanting nothing more than for the morning hours to drag along slower, and for the night that followed to stand still.

"I could tell you stories of dragons and knights, and speak to you in languages that have long since faded away." You told the man, but it came out half-hearted and muffled against his skin.

"But there are still many things I don't know, Dixon." You admitted. "Like what I did to deserve you, too."

A/N *mic drop* Ok but for real, who let me have alcohol whilst writing this??? Tipsy me gets WAY TOO SPICY WAY TOO QUICK- The chapter plan had way more in it, but I accidentally threw the plot out the window because I got preoccupied *cough*...

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