#pairing: daryl dixon/ofc

[the-dixon-effect]

Lover, you should've come over

A/N: i had this idea a while ago just never got around to writing it. it's v fluffy, a little angsty and just the right amount of trauma, and the title from jeff buckley ofc. hope you enjoy lovelies :')

era: season 6, pre-Negan Alexandria

prompt: "Ya don't ever have to say sorry. Not to me."

summary: Y/N is feeling particularly affected by her past trauma sometime during the group's transition to the suburban atmosphere of Alexandria.

words: 1.5k

pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader

warnings: self-harm, anxiety, suggestive

9pm The garage; dark, gloomy, the perfect hiding spot.

The rest of the group was having dinner, courteously cooked by Carol, in the dining area of your shared house. Rick was right, it was going to take some considerable time before everyone properly adjusted to the strange atmosphere of the unaffected suburban paradise that was Alexandria. It seemed, however, that despite the incredible amount of time your people, your family, had spent surviving outside these walls, everybody was fitting in just fine.

The houses were strange, untouched, and the people even stranger. It was like this tiny pocket of the new world was a time capsule, a preserved artefact of an ancient time, all but forgotten to most. It felt like if you were to get too close, immerse yourself too much, the time would come when this place would come crashing down, and bring you down with it. Not only did this place feel like a fever dream about the old world, it also brought back certain memories from the past that you'd tried so desperately to leave behind.

So here you were, an empty seat at the dining room table. You pressed your back against the wall and hugged your legs to your chest. You wondered if they would even notice you weren't there.

Almost-silent sniffles were the only sounds that filled the dim room. The last of the daylight filtered through the tiny gap between the garage door and the ground. You rolled up the sleeves of your flannel shirt to reveal a checkerboard of familiar scratches and cuts, only half visible due to the distinct lack of light in the room. Your head rolled backwards, almost on its own, and hit the wall with a thud. Your eyes swelled with tears just as quick as the memories had come flooding back.

Maybe it wasn't this place. Or the people. Maybe it was just you. No point running now, you thought. You can escape from everything and everyone you love, but you'll never escape yourself, a part of you tried to tell yourself. No matter how far you run, your past, your scars, they will always remain.

9:30pm Despite Y/N's assumption that her absence at dinner would go unnoticed, she was wrong. A certain archer's eyes searched for yours but failed to meet them across the table. "Where's Y/N?" he asked, filling the silence. When all he received was a fleeting glance around the room from members of the group, he swiftly returned to his former position of silence.

"She's probably over at Aaron and Eric's. I heard they were having a couple people over for dinner tonight," said Michonne, a little dismissively.

Daryl shared your feelings about this strange community, and he too understood your lack of trust. Even before adjusting to the end of the world, he certainly would have felt uneasy in a place like this. People like him, like you, they're not supposed to be living in a place like this, pretending to forget about the world outside the walls. Paradise is no place for us, he thought.

Once dinner was finished and the chatter had died down, Daryl slipped off in an effort to find you, and he couldn't help but worry.

9:45pm After searching the whole damn neighbourhood and finding no one who knew where you were, he started to assume the worst. What if she left, ran away somehow? What if she went on a run and got hurt? No, no, he couldn't lose you, not when the both of you had just got here.

Suddenly he remembered the conversation he had with you last night, out on the porch. The stars were out, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, you could look up and admire them in somewhat safety. And they were beautiful. And the two of you sat and talked and talked and just watched those stars. He loved to just listen to you, in truth, he wanted to hear all your stories. Even the bad ones, the regretful ones, perhaps he just needed to hear your voice. He thought back to something you'd said, and his mind suddenly went overdrive with worry. A particular memory you'd recalled, and said that you'd never told anybody this before, alluding to an especially bad habit you'd broken. Could that be... self-harm? He was pretty sure he'd seen those marks on your arm, or he saw something, at least, that wasn't caused by walkers.

He started to go over every single place in his mind where you might be hiding, doing more harm to yourself than good by not speaking up. Your bedroom, the attic, the basement, the yard, the garage. The one place the rest of the group wouldn't think to look for you, if they even came looking at all, you thought. Except for Daryl, who had been working in there on his bike all day.

You could even sense it now, the oil, the tools, and the summer heat, even in the nighttime. As you thought of him, the whole place started to feel like him. You weren't even sure if you liked it or not, the familiar fondness you'd developed for him, but despite your loveable manner, you were so determined to be alone. To not appear as some anxious little presence going about the place.

The door swung open and the first thing you noticed was the light that streamed in, illuminating your tear-stained face.

"Y/N! Y/N, are ya' in here?" You buried your face in your hands as you approached the archer, weakly.

"Hey, hey, what's goin' on?" he drawled. Daryl placed his torch down and stepped a little closer to you, not in a threatening, fearsome way, but in an intimate way, a way that felt like you could be safe with him.

"Can- Do you think you could shut the door?" you said, sniffling a little as you spoke. He followed your request and returned to where he stood before, deep blue eyes locked on your pitiful face.

10pm It felt like there was nothing to be said, no way to express your feelings in a way that somebody could understand. It would be just perfect if, in this moment, he was able to read your mind somehow. Hesitantly, you rolled up your sleeves as you had done before and looked straight up at him with those wide eyes. It was a sight to behold, that was for sure, and if he could put aside every ounce of sorrow he felt just looking at the scars, he was grateful to be the one who you came to.

"This place, it's like- it's like a well," you were struggling to speak. The tears were flowing now, and you felt embarrassed to have this much emotion on display. "Couple days after we got here, I just started to remember, you know. The stuff you don't wanna remember. Just feel trapped, you know," your voice seemed to trail away as your closed your eyes. Nothing to be done now, you supposed.

When you looked up at Daryl again, you were suddenly overcome by a rush of guilt. "Oh no, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Daryl..."

He pulled you into a tight hug at once and whispered into your soft hair that he held so gently. "No, no darlin'..." he spoke. "Ya' don't ever have to say sorry. Not to me." Perhaps if you were thinking straight you would've tried a little harder to appreciate the moment. His distinct scent, the notes of sweet cigarettes, pinewood and thunderstorms. Instead, you cried into his shoulder as his other hand rubbed gentle lines up and down your back.

You pulled away from the embrace, keeping your arms draped around his neck. He was captured by those pretty eyes of yours, though glassed over completely, and held the silent eye contact. He lifted his right hand and softly held your arm, tracing your goosebumps with his calloused fingertips. And you just stared up at him, looking for the reassurance in his eyes that you knew you would always find.

Sensing your pain, Daryl brought your forearm to his lips and pressed sweet kisses on those same self-inflicted scars. You gazed up at him and mustered the best smile you could, as a sign to continue. You slipped off your flannel shirt revealing the little white t-shirt that you wore underneath. Moving further up the length of your arm, he planted soft kisses on your shoulder, and then your neck. The intimacy brought more overstimulated tears to your straining eyes. The only thing you knew how to do in this moment was simply grip him tighter. "Never let me go," you whispered.

Perhaps you didn't need to be alone after all.

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

alright so daryl x reader who draws a lot, and one day he sees their sketchbook on a table or something : when he flips through the pages he finds a lot of drawings of him (not in a creepy way lmao)

ofc he gets flustered because they’re just friends right?? but it somehow leads to them admitting their feelings :)

༉‧₊˚. 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 || 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧

― pairing: daryl dixon x plus size!reader

― era: season 4

― summary: you liked drawing pretty things, and daryl was just so damn interesting.

― warnings: none!

― wc: 902

⋆ a/n: i was very excited to write this! it's honestly such a cute idea, especially since i made the reader's love language drawing him, and even her confession was a piece of art.

masterlist | AO3

You didn’t know why, but Daryl was so fun to draw; with all his wrinkles and expressions, the indents of scars and beauty marks that marred his aged skin, the little details of him that caught your eye were enamoring. You hadn’t noticed how many pages Daryl had started to take up before it was time for you to get a new sketchbook, so it was safe to say that your old one was well hidden under your pillow in your cell.

Your favorite time to draw him was when you were sitting on one of the benches in the prison yard, watching as he killed walkers that lined the fence, or embarrassingly enough, when he’d just stand there and eat. Sketching him was your way of confessing to him, telling him that you thought he was the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen, that he was perfectly imperfect to you, even if your courage would never allow you to do so.

Daryl was surprised to see your sketchbook sitting unsupervised on the table, seeing as though you always held it protectively in your hands, often shying away when people asked if they could see your drawings. He wasn’t going to lie and say he wasn’t curious to, but he would never be brave enough to approach you and ask you to see something so intimate to you. He hesitantly picked up the leatherback notebook. He knew that you would be positively shitting yourself when you’d figure out that you didn’t have it, and in Daryl’s humble opinion, he was the most reliable person to get it to you.

Well, that’s what he thought.

He ended up dropping the flimsy thing, a silent ‘shit!’ slipping out through his lips as it fell on its back, opening up on a page with an image that looked eerily similar to him. His eyebrows furrowed as he bent down to pick it up, staring intently at the lines. It was him. He could recognize his own stance anywhere.

It was from earlier that day where he was standing next to Carol, hands clasped with a bowl as he chatted with the woman behind the grill. The background was a practical reflection of the prison, the bodies of people sitting at tables were light strokes, even Carol was; it was made evident that he was the main focus of this piece. He couldn’t help himself as he flipped back a couple of pages, coming across many more pictures of him. He knew he should’ve found them creepy, maybe even a bit stalkerish, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel that way, especially not when he felt so flattered.

He was certainly blushing, the butterflies in his stomach raging inside of him like an uncontrollable storm. He didn’t know what to do, nor begin to comprehend what any of the drawings meant. Of course, a part of wanted to believe that maybe you felt the same about him, that you found him as interesting as he found you, but that self-deprecating part of him that always seemed to win spoke louder, forcing him to snap the book shut and continue his search for you.

He found you in your cell where you had pretty much torn the place apart. Your pillow was laying limply on the floor, your sheets tossed on the ground as well, the drawers of the dresser you had found and put in your room – with Daryl’s assistance – had been ripped out, the objects inside of them strown in random places.

He called out your name as you turned to look at him sheepishly. “You alrigh’?” He asked in concern as he took in your once neat cell.

“Yeah, it’s just… I can’t find my…” Your eyes landed on your sketchbook that he was holding. “Book.” You ended breathlessly. His eyes followed yours where he gulped, extending out his hand. “I uh- I found it sittin’ on top of one of the tables.” He said sheepishly as you took it out of his hand, your fingertips brushing his rough skin, leaving a tingling feeling behind in its wake. “Oh, well, thank you for bringing it back to me.”

There was a beat of silence that passed.

“You didn’t… you didn’t look in it, did you?” You asked nervously. The looks that he gave you was one of guilt, the exact look you had feared the man would give you. “I dropped it,” That was evident by the scuff marks your fingers trailed over on its spine. “And it jus’… opened up.” He explained. Your anxiety threatened to swallow you whole as you thought of what to say, how to feel; should you explain yourself? But he looked inside of it which was an invasion of your privacy… but he said it was an accident, right?

“Did I creep you out?” You couldn’t help but ask. There was nothing you feared more than freaking out the guy you were in love with. If you had managed to scare the scruffy redneck away, you don’t know what you would do. “No, I- I liked ‘em. They were real nice.” You let out a sigh of relief, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

“I only draw people I like.” You made sure to add, which caused him to look at you with wide eyes.

“Not everyone gets that much detail.” You said teasingly.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy

[findroleplay]

[c]

hello! I’m looking for some fandom roleplays. Currently I am looking to do OCxCC for these fandoms! I am more than open to doing double ups, I prefer doing them anyways since it keeps both sides fair. (I just ask that we both write an equal amount for both sides, not one more than the other.)

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Here's some more details:

Literacy: Literate-Advanced Literate (I LOVE details 🫶)

Rules: I have my rules pinned on my profile, please read it all before interacting with this!

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Fandom(s): Criminal Minds (it's been a while since I've seen the whole show so rn I'm rewatching it and on season 4), DCEU, The Boys (on season 3), The Walking Dead (on season 9)

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Character(s): I can play any characters for you and your side! I'm also apart of other fandoms that I don't have listed above. If you'd prefer another fandom for your side just ask and maybe I know it well enough to rp! And here are characters I'm looking for my oc from the fandoms listed above:

Criminal Minds- Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, Aaron Hotchner

DCEU- Bale!Batman/Bruce Wayne, Pattison!Batman/Bruce Wayne, John Constantine, Morpheus (The Sandman, mainly the show), The Corinthian (same as Morpheus)

The Boys- Billy Butcher, Queen Maeve, MM, Black Noir, Homelander, Soldier Boy

The Walking Dead- Daryl Dixon🫶, Abraham Ford, Rick Grimes, Carl Grimes, Ezekiel Sutton, Gabriel Stokes

COD: Modern Warfare II- Alejandro Vargas, Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, John Price, Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish

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Triggers: I personally have no triggers

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Plot ideas: Depending on which fandom I will most likely follow the canon storyline for each one BUT there could be exceptions. I'm also open to doing AUs alongside the storylines/adding our own changes and touches throughout ofc <3! I'm open to any plots you may have for your side. Ofc Omegaverse will be alongside the plot(s). I will likely play my ocs as an omega and whichever fandom with whoever you’re comfortable playing as an Alpha. I’m more than happy to do the same for your side or any other Secondary Gender pairing is cool with me too!

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Where: I'm cool with staying on Tumblr but I wouldn’t mind moving over to Discord

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If you're interested then feel free to message me or comment!

-

[twdsunshine]

Broken: Pt. 12

Summary:  Mechanic!Daryl AU.  Tabitha Dean has returned to her hometown for the first time in years, fleeing a life that isn’t quite what she thought it would be.  When her car breaks down, the mechanic who comes to her rescue is none other than Daryl Dixon, the shy, strange boy that she remembers from her school days.  But a lot has changed since then, and, when Tabby’s life catches up with her, she finds herself in need of someone to fix her broken parts.  Is Daryl up to the job?

Pairing:  Daryl Dixon x OFC

Warnings:  Language, mentions of domestic violence

Word Count:  7,068

Check out my bio for a link to my Masterlist!

Author’s Note:  This is it.  The end.  I’m not sure I’m ready.  I have loved writing this series so so much, which you can probably tell by the way each chapter got a little longer!  This one’s a beast!  Thank you to all of those that have stuck with reading Tabby and Daryl’s story, and I really hope you like how it all wraps up.  For the last time, here we go...

*****

“I’m not gonna lie, Daryl.  It’s not looking good for you.”  The sheriff took a sip of his coffee, sitting back in his chair as he ran an appraising eye over the man that was slumped, cuffed, on the other side of the table.  “We’ve got a witness that saw you loitering at the motel, we’ve got a body missing a fair chunk of brains, and we’ve got your prints all over the murder weapon.  Not to put too fine a point on it but you are currently swimming in a vast ocean of shit, and, if you don’t start talking, you might just drown in it.”  When Daryl stayed silent, narrowed eyes glaring at the tabletop, he leaned forward, rapping his knuckles against the surface to get his attention.  “C’mon now.  It’d be easy for me to assume that this was all just some kinda off-the-chart stupidity, some grade-A, butt-steak idiocy, but that’s not what I’m about.  So, why don’t you tell me what in the holy hell happened back there and let me help you?”

Daryl fidgeted in his seat, blinking dazedly as if he wasn’t quite sure where he was, and it wasn’t a million miles from the truth.  He felt as if he was outside of himself somehow.  He’d seen the cops come storming into the motel room with their weapons raised, heard the metal cuffs being snapped into place around his wrists, felt the thrum of the police car’s engine as he was transported back to the station, but, emotionally, he was numb, mentally drained, unable to react.  It seemed as if he’d destroyed a part of himself when he’d pulled the trigger, a part that was absolutely vital to his ability to function, and now it was gone, and the man opposite him was watching him expectantly, and he didn’t have a clue what to say.  He supposed, when he really concentrated and managed to form a coherent thought, that it would have made sense for him to have come up with some sort of story, a lie that would get him out of this mess, but he just didn’t have it in him right then, so he sucked in a deep breath, forced himself to focus on the sheriff, with his thick red hair and wrinkled brow, and told the truth.

“S’fer Tabby.”

“Tabby?  I’ve got the ID found in the wallet of the victim, and it says he is a Mr Shane Walsh from Atlanta.  I assume you knew him.”

“He’s Tabby’s fiancé.  Ex-fiancé.”

“So, what?  This some kinda love triangle turned bloody?  You been pouring the Bisquick into another man’s skillet?”

“Nah.”  Daryl swallowed hard around the lump in his throat and tried to force his brain to function so that he could properly explain.  “He… She left him, but he found her.  Tracked her down.  An’ he… He hurt her, beat her bloody.”

“I see.  Well, I am sorry to hear that, I really am.  There are some real assholes in the world and it just makes my ass itch, it truly does.  But that’s why we’re here, Daryl, to deal with those assholes.  I can’t condone this kinda… vigilante justice, not on my watch.”

“Ya don’t get it,” Daryl growled before clearing his throat, attempting to rein in his frustration.  “Tab… Her old man used to be the sheriff here when we were kids.  I knew she wouldn’t wanna come here.  She’s still hurtin’ over it, blames the job for takin’ him.  Wouldn’a been able to get her through that door, let alone talkin’ to one of ya, not in that uniform.  An’ I… I couldn’t let him touch her again.  I swore I’d keep her safe.”  It wasn’t something they’d ever talked about, the fact that she wouldn’t want to step foot in her father’s old workplace, that just the thought of it made her feel sick, but Daryl knew anyway.  He knew her better than he knew himself these days, he thought.  “‘Sides, all ya’d do is lock his ass up, then she spends the rest of her life waitin’ for him to get out an’ come after her again.”

“Mother dick.”  The sheriff let out a quiet huff of disbelief, and Daryl frowned at the man as he shook his head.  “Tabby… You’re talking about Tabitha Dean, aren’t you?  Sheriff Dean’s little girl?”

“S’right.  Ain’t so little no more, but yeah.  She came back to town when her mom died.”

“Well, I’ll be damned.  I trained under Sheriff Dean when I was just a pup.  I heard his old lady went off the rails; guess I never gave much thought to what happened to his kid.”

“Shane happened,” Daryl stated bluntly.  “Made her life a livin’ hell, an’ he weren’t just gonna let her go.  I know guys like him.  He would’a killed her, sooner or later.”

“So, you grabbed the bull by the nutsack and killed him first.  Looks like ya took one hell of a lickin’ for it too.”

Daryl ducked his head, squeezing his eyes shut as he realised that he’d just confessed to murder, and his first thought wasn’t for him but for Tabby, who seemed to need him around for reasons that he still didn’t really understand.  It wasn’t that he regretted his actions, nowhere close.  He was damn sure now that he loved her fiercely, that there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her, and, if he’d kill for her, which he evidently would, spending the rest of his life behind bars was really nothing he couldn’t handle.  He only hoped that she could go on and find some sort of peace without him because he wanted her to have that, after all she’d been through.

“Do you have a licence for the firearm?”  The sheriff’s question cut into his thoughts, and he shook his head, knowing that he might as well just own up to all of his offences now that the big one was in the bag.  “Alright, son, I’ll tell you what we’re gonna do.”  Draining his coffee, the officer clasped his hands together, watching Daryl’s reactions carefully as he laid out his plan.  “Shane was clearly an unhappy man, some might say mentally unwell.  His long-term partner had left him, and he couldn’t let go of the relationship.  I’m sure there are friends or colleagues back in the city that can vouch for that, going on what you’ve told me.  It wouldn’t be out of the question for someone in that state to hit rock bottom, search for a way out, don’t you think?”

“I… I don’t get it.”  Daryl was confused, his muddled mind working overtime to try to understand where the sheriff was going with his rambling.

“I’m just saying, somebody gets into that kinda thinking, that dangerous headspace, it’s not totally out of the question that they’d find themselves an exit ramp, y’know?  ‘Stop the ride, I wanna get off.’”

“B- but my prints…” Daryl stammered.

“Prints can be wiped.  It’s an unregistered weapon.”  It took a few moments for the sheriff’s proposal to sink in, and then Daryl was shaking his head, his eyes wide as he finally realised just what this might mean for him.  

“Ya’d really do that?”

“For the daughter of the man who damn near made me who I am, I’d do that and a whole lot more.”  He pulled a set of keys from his pocket, standing and making his way around the table to stoop and undo Daryl’s cuffs.  “Sheriff Dean meant a whole lot to me, and to a lot of the people at this station, and that makes his family our family.  Now, I can make this go away, but that means you don’t breathe a word of it to anybody.  Do we have an understanding, son?”

“I… Yeah, ya got it.  I ain’t gonna say nothin’.”

“Well, alright then, leave it with me.  Looks like you’re free to go.”  Walking Daryl to the door, the sheriff shot him a conspiratorial wink, reaching out to take his hand and give it a firm shake.  “Best keep your head down, Dixon, and send Tabby my best.  Tell her Sheriff Ford said hello.”

*****

Rick stirred at the sound of a key turning in the lock of the front door, lifting his head from where it rested on the arm of the couch to blink blearily at Daryl as he stepped inside.  Casting a glance towards the window he noted that dawn was breaking, the sky streaked with shades of pink and orange, and he let out a tired groan as he pushed himself to his feet, moving to meet his friend.  He huffed a sigh at the sight of Daryl’s face - the split over the bridge of his nose, the blackened eye that was puffy and swollen, the bruising over his jawbone - frowning at his stiff movements as he shrugged off his vest.  

“You look like hell.”

“Feel like it,” Daryl confirmed, dragging himself over to take a seat, dropping heavily onto the sagging cushions with a grunt.  “Where’s Tab?  She alright?”

“She’s fine,” Rick told him, leaning back against the wall and watching as the other man bent forward to unlace his boots.  “Finally convinced her to turn in a few hours ago.  She was set on waitin’ up for you.”  He cleared his throat, dipping his head as he admitted, “She knows you didn’t go see your brother.”

“Whaddya tell her?”

“I didn’t.  She asked if that’s really where you’d gone, and I told her no.  I didn’t know any more than that.”

Daryl nodded.  “S’fair.  Should’a known she’d figure it out.  She ain’t stupid.”

“No, she’s not,” Rick agreed, and he found himself smiling as he thought of her panicked pacing, the naked worry on her face as she considered Daryl’s whereabouts.  It wasn’t that he’d enjoyed her agitation - far from it - but it had been nice to see that she cared so deeply about the man that most people didn’t put any effort into getting to know, unnerved by his dark scowl and the walls he built around himself to shut out the rest of the world.  Tabby, it seemed, had broken through those walls with alarming ease, and she obviously liked what she’d seen behind his defences.  He only hoped that they might be able to move forward together now, find some way to be happy.  He knew they both deserved it.  “So, did you find him?”

“Mmhmm.”  Daryl was gnawing on his lip, intentionally avoiding meeting Rick’s gaze, and he frowned, needing to know more.

“Well, what happened?”

There was a long pause, and then Daryl shook his head, letting it fall back against the couch with a rough sigh.  “S’better ya dunno.”

“Daryl-”

“Trust me, brother.”  His body was wrung out, his mind still foggy with exhaustion, but he’d made a promise to the sheriff, who was going out of his way to ensure that Daryl didn’t end up behind bars, and he couldn’t break that, no matter how much he might want to offload.

“Fine then.”  Rick moved closer, dropping into a couch in front of Daryl’s knees so he could study him intently.  “Just tell me, is it over?”

“Yeah, s'over.  She’s safe now.”

*****

Tabby was dreaming.  In her dream, Daryl was home, and he was holding her, cradling her against his chest as he pressed soft kisses to the top of her head, and she nestled into his warmth, reaching around him to smooth her hands over his back, the thin t-shirt he wore wrinkling under her fingers.  She let her touch drift south, seeking the hem so she could creep beneath it and trace patterns over his bare skin, carefully skimming over the scars that she knew he preferred to keep hidden.  They’d never spoken about them, though she’d been unable to hold in her horrified gasp the first time he’d forgotten himself and tugged off his shirt, covered with oil from his bike, to replace it with a new one, revealing to her every bad memory, every mark inflicted by his father’s drunken fury.  His cheeks had blazed with heat, and she’d gone to him, pushing herself up on tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his cheek and holding him tight, as tight as she could with her ribs still aching.  She had her own scars, but nothing so ragged, so raw, and she felt his suffering so keenly that it mixed with her own.  If she’d thought she’d loved him before, now she was completely in awe of him, lost in him, this man that had come through so much and still ended up so innately good.  She’d decided then that she wanted nothing more than to spend every day that she had left making him happy, if he'd have her.

As her thoughts wandered, her hands still stroking down the length of his spine, feeling each ridge and the surrounding muscles move and shift as he pulled her closer, she became vaguely aware that she was awake, slipping back to consciousness so smoothly that her dream had melted into reality, and Daryl was there, his hair damp from the shower, his body solid and firm against hers.  Her eyes sprang open, locking onto piercing crystal blue.

“Daryl?  You’re back?”

“Yeah, m’here,” he told her, his voice low and gravelly with lack of sleep.  “M’sorry.  Rick said ya were worried.”

“Your face…”

“M’fine.”  His large hand cupped her cheek, wiping away the solitary tear that had escaped her, unnoticed, borne of relief and continued worry at the state of him, and she shook her head, trying to fight away the fog that was clouding her brain before she sat up, watching as he did the same.  He looked almost as broken as her, she realised, his rugged features marred by cuts and bruises, and she reached out to ghost her fingertips over the darkened skin, pulling back when he grimaced.  

“Daryl, what happened?  Where have you been?”

“Yer safe now,” was all he said, his eyes drifting closed, but that wasn’t enough, and she grasped at his shoulder, giving him a gentle shake.

“Daryl, please…”  She sucked in a deep breath, trying to read his reactions.  “You went to find him, didn’t you?  I know you weren’t with Merle.  Rick ratted you out.”

“Mmm, he does that.”

“Daryl…”

“Tab-”

“No, please - you’ve got to tell me, okay?  I need to know.  Yesterday was…  It was hell.  Not knowing where you were, when you’d be back, if you were even coming back-”

“Course I was comin’ back,” he interrupted, cutting her off as he fixed her with a sharp look.  “Ya really think I’d do that?  Think I’d just up an’ leave ya, after everythin’?”

“I thought you might not have had a choice,” she whispered, and she sounded so distressed that he couldn’t fight the urge to wrap an arm around her, pulling her in close, relieved when she curled into him willingly.  “He’s dangerous, and I was… I was scared that he’d hurt you.”

“Nah.”  He shrugged off her concerns, despite his aching back, stiff neck and sore throat, and the multitude of abrasions that Shane’s onslaught had left him with. 

“Really?”

“S’nothin’,” he assured her.  “Ya should’a seen the other guy.”

“Please.”  She couldn’t stand his joking, needed to hear some sort of truth, and, when he closed his eyes again, she could practically see the cogs whirring in his head.  She wished she could burrow her way in there and see exactly what he was thinking, but, when he finally looked up, his expression was one that she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen on him before, and it was almost the next best thing.  It was so open, so real, unmasked, and she could see affection and pain and sadness and fear and anger and so many other things, that she didn’t even know how he could contain that many emotions inside of him at one time without exploding from the pressure.  

“I took care of it, Tab, like I said I would.  Told ya I’d keep ya safe an’ yer safe now.  He ain’t never gonna hurt ya again.”

“But… how?”

“D’ya trust me?”

“You know I do.”  His lips quirked up in a crooked smile, and he used his hold on her to tilt her face up to his so he could brush a soft kiss against her mouth.  It was the first time, she thought, that he’d been the one to instigate anything like that, the first kiss they’d shared since he’d patched up Shane’s handiwork painted over her skin, and, despite the situation, she couldn’t fight the thrill that ran through her.

“Then trust that it’s over.  He’s gone.  He can’t hurt ya no more.”

“What if he comes back?”

“He won’t.”  He spoke the words with such certainty that Tabby knew then, without him having to say any more.  She knew what had happened, knew that she was safe because Shane was dead, and that Daryl had played a part in making that happen.  And he was right not to tell her explicitly or in detail, because she didn’t want to know any more than that, she found, couldn’t hear more in case she should drive herself mad with what-ifs and all of the things that could have gone wrong, so she just nodded and buried her face in his chest, taking deep, calming breaths to steady herself.  They sat like that for a long while, silence settling over them as they each battled their own whirling minds, and Tabby thought he might even have fallen asleep sitting up when she sneaked a peek at him, his face almost boyish in his peacefulness were it not for the permanent furrow in his brow.  It deepened as he fidgeted before clearing his throat. “Hey, when yer old man was the sheriff, d’ya remember a kid that worked down at the station with him?  Ford?”

She racked her brain for a moment, searching through her memories without lingering too long on any one, because she couldn’t deal with her grief flaring up right now on top of everything else.  “Erm, yeah, I think so.  Adam or Abel or… No, Abraham, I think it was.  He was a deputy there, fresh out of the academy.  Why?”

Daryl shrugged.  “No reason.  Heard he’s the sheriff now, s’all.”

“Is that right?”  She narrowed her eyes, watching as his cheeks flushed pink, and he ducked his head, hiding behind his hair to avoid her gaze.

“Mmhmm.  Might be nice if ya swung by some time.  Might do ya some good.  Closure or somethin’.”

“Daryl, I- I don’t know…”

“M’sure there are some people down there that’d like to see ya.  Think about it, s’all I’m sayin’.”

“Alright, I will.”

*****

When Tabby woke for the second time, Daryl was still sleeping soundly beside her, and she watched him for a moment: the patchy scruff that coated his cheeks and chin; his mouth relaxed, lips less thin, less tightly drawn in his slumber.  The flesh over the angle of his cheekbone was red and swollen, and it softened his appearance, made him look younger somehow, and she found her mind flashing back to the quiet, shy boy that had sat next to her in class all those years ago, mumbling his words at the desk whenever they were required to speak, barely glancing her way if he could help it, so locked up in his own misery.  Who would’ve thought back then, she mused, that it would be that same boy that she would turn to in her darkest hours, that would patch up her broken parts, both literally and figuratively, and who would kill for her, to keep her safe, to protect her and ensure that she was never in that kind of danger again.  It was too much for her to wrap her head around, and she slipped carefully from the bed, letting him sleep on whilst she stepped out to face the day.

She padded into the kitchen, making a pot of coffee on autopilot and pouring herself a mug, cupping it in her hands as she wandered across the hall and dropped down onto the couch.  It was mid-morning, and the sun was beaming in through the windows, painting the warped wooden floorboards in a rich honey gold and making the spartan room feel more cosy.  She hadn’t really questioned why Daryl seemed to have so little in the way of belongings; it had just seemed to make sense with who she knew him to be, so she’d accepted it, just as she’d accepted everything else about him.  Now, though, she flashed back to what he’d said to her a couple of days before.  ‘Feels like a damn home when yer around.’  Was that, she wondered, a hint?  An invitation?  He’d said she could move in for all he cared, but it had been such a casual, throwaway remark that she’d let it go.  Now, she let herself consider it, assessing her feelings, probing them with more confidence than she’d allowed herself in a long time.  

She could see it, she realised; could picture a life with Daryl, far more easily than she could picture one without him, but, at the same time, it felt like an easy way out.  Moving in there would feel like running, like she was giving up and casting off her past completely rather than facing it head on, and she couldn’t allow herself to do that.  Daryl had mentioned closure when they’d been talking in the early hours, and she knew it was something largely lacking in her life.  So, perhaps he’d been right.  And perhaps giving up the cabin that had been her haven away from the world, that had meant so much to her father and held so many memories of the time before her family had fallen apart, would be just another missed opportunity to gain exactly that.

She sighed as she settled herself more comfortably against the cushions, curling her legs up and taking a sip of her drink.  In truth, she knew she could now do whatever she wanted, and, although the freedom was exhilarating, it was also a little scary.  For so long, every decision she made had been dictated by Shane’s mood, taking careful steps so as not to antagonise him and risk unleashing the wrath of his temper.  And, even when she’d come back to town, she’d known he would turn up again, kept her head down so she wouldn’t be too easy to find, though that hadn’t really worked out.  Now, her choices were endless and it was overwhelming in both the best and worst way, so that she wasn't really sure how she was supposed to feel about any of it, if she was honest.

The one thing that she did feel, easily identifiable in the muddle of emotions that vied for prevalence in her head, was relief, and that had a lump forming in her throat, because what did it say about her that another person’s death could make her feel so light, so thankful?  Nothing good, she was sure, yet she couldn’t pretend to grieve, to feel any sort of sorrow when she was reminded of the pain that Shane had put her through each time she looked in the mirror.  Maybe at some point some sort of sadness or remorse would come, for the good times they’d had before it had all gone wrong, but, in that moment, she was more grateful to Daryl than she could put into words, and her heart swelled in her chest as she thought about what he’d done for her, what he’d been prepared to sacrifice.  She wasn’t sure that anybody else in her life had ever cared that much, and that was a relief too, because maybe it wasn’t her if someone like him could think she was worthy of protecting, of risking everything for.  Maybe...

As the sun climbed higher in the sky and midday loomed, Daryl shuffled into the living room, running a hand through his rumpled hair and shooting her a bashful smile.  “Woke up without ya.  Din’t feel right.”

“Welcome to my world,” she teased, and he scoffed, shaking his head as he slumped down beside her.  “Waking up without you yesterday was the worst thing.  Don’t ever do that to me again, okay?”

“I won’t, I swear.”  Something passed between them then, a mutual acknowledgement, she thought, that, wherever they ended up, whatever happened next, they would be starting their days together, in the same place, the same room, the same bed.  Or perhaps she was reading too much into it, looking for some sign to cling onto, and Tabby wondered whether now was the time to bring up that conversation, the one they’d been putting off about what they were and where this was going, but Daryl was already moving past it, cocking his head to one side as he regarded her with concern.  “So, ya feel up to leavin’ the house today?”

“Erm, yeah.  I mean, I think so.  No reason not to now, I guess.  Why?”

“I called Carol after… When ya needed some time, just let her know.  But she’d probably like to see ya, check in or whatever.”

“God, Carol…”  Tabby hadn’t even thought, didn’t even really remember that she’d had a job just a week ago, with colleagues and a boss who relied on her.  It was as if everything, except for the man who had hurt her and the one who had saved her, had slipped away, leaving her running in pure survival mode, her world shrinking right down to the size of Daryl's house, her life completely contained within its walls.  Now, she felt guilty for her lack of consideration, and she covered her face with her hands in an attempt to hide her dismay.  “She must be so mad at me.  I totally left her in the lurch.”

Daryl’s fingers wrapped around her wrists, tugging them down so she could see the earnestness of his expression.  “S’alright.  She gets it.  She’s been there.”  At Tabby’s look of surprise, he smirked.  “S’a reason she keeps a rifle under the counter.”

Tabby processed that for a moment before nodding.  “Yeah, okay.  We should head over there.  Are you sure though?  You still look kinda tired and… well, like me.”  She gestured at her face, and saw pain flash across his eyes.

“M’sure.  Rather be busy, y’know?”

“Alright then.”  She forced a smile.  “I’ll treat you to lunch.”

“Ya sure?”

“It’s the least I can do,” she told him honestly, because it was.  In fact, she owed him so much more.

*****

Carol’s was quiet when they walked in, having missed the worst of the lunch rush.  Daryl had taken the long way round, heading out of town in the wrong direction so that they could double back along the scenic route, whizzing along winding, narrow back roads, lined with overhanging trees and lush vegetation.  He told himself that he was doing it for Tabby, reminding her what the great outdoors looked like after several long days shut inside, doing nothing but worrying and licking her wounds, but, if he was honest, he needed the ride to clear his own head.  In some ways, he’d expected to feel worse than he did now that the shock had worn off, thought the weight of taking a life would sit ever heavy in his gut, but, in reality, it wasn’t quite like that.  For the most part, he felt perfectly fine, except for the aches and pains of the fight, and he’d almost manage to forget, and then it would creep up on him and hit him like an arrow through the chest, and he’d find himself unable to breathe for several endless seconds, because he’d done it; he’d killed a man, and he could almost feel the blood staining his soul.  It came and went every hour or so, and he knew that escaping for a while on the bike wouldn’t hurt.  Nor would the sensation of Tabby’s arms locked tight around his waist, tighter than necessary, holding him together. 

She was hanging back now, wringing her hands, her windswept hair hanging wild around her face, blue eyes wide with uncertainty.  He reached for her, lacing his fingers through hers and tugging her forwards, releasing her to rest his palm against the small of her back.  “S’gonna be fine, Tab, I promise.”

At that moment, the door to the kitchen swung open, and Carol bustled out, wiping her hands on her apron before she noticed she had customers waiting.  Her face lit up at the sight of them.  “Tabby!  Daryl!  Oh, you’re a sight for sore eyes.”  She rounded the counter and held out her arms, pulling first Tabby, then Daryl, into a tight hug.  “C’mon, let’s get you sat down.  You both look like you’ve been through the wringer.”

She led them along the corridor of tables, pausing to say hi to a regular that had come in whilst she’d been out back, and gestured towards the same booth they’d occupied on Tabby’s first visit.  Tabby slid onto the cracked leather seat, surprised when Daryl dropped down beside her instead of taking a seat on the bench opposite, and then he took her hand beneath the table, giving it a gentle squeeze, and she understood.  She shot him a grateful smile.

“Carol, I’m so sorry I flaked out on you,” she began as the older lady sat down, but found herself silenced by a stern look.

“None of that.  Daryl told me what happened, why you needed some time.  As long as you’re okay, that’s all that matters.”

“I am.  But I still feel bad.  I didn’t even call you myself and-”

“Tabby, what you went through…”  Carol sighed, her usually bright expression darkening slightly as she leaned across the table, keeping her voice low.  “It happens to the best of us.  I know what it takes to drag yourself back from that.  So, you have nothing to apologise for, okay?”  Tabby nodded.  “Besides, any friend of Pookie’s is family, and family looks out for each other, right?  Now, how are you doing, really?  Both of you?”

“A little sore still, but mostly better.  It feels good to be out of the house.”

“Yeah,” Daryl agreed.  “Thought she was gonna melt into the couch for a while there.”

“Shut up.”  Tabby dug an elbow into his ribs, and he winked at her, lips curving in a smirk.

“And your fiancé, is he…?”

“Gone,” Daryl told her in a decisive tone that didn’t invite any further questions, and Carol’s face settled into a knowing look as she reached over to pat the back of his hand where it rested on the tabletop.

“Well, sounds like it’s for the best.”  The door to the diner swung open and she pushed herself to her feet, ready to get back to work.  “I’m just glad you’re both okay.  And when you’re ready to pick your hours back up, Tabby, you just let me know.”

“Oh, I...”  Tabby knew that she needed to go back, that it would do her some good, but she still felt unsettled, unsure of what she was doing.  She didn’t feel like she could just jump back into the new life she was building when she was still hiding out at Daryl’s, not even knowing where she wanted to be or what they were to each other.  She needed to get things straight in her head before she could focus her energy on anything else, and Carol seemed to get it because she cut her off with a smile.

“No rush.  I just want you to know that your job is waiting for you, that’s all.  We miss you round here.”

*****

Tabby didn’t notice that Daryl missed the turning that would take them back to his place on the way home, cruising through town and past the auto shop, all the time waiting for her to object.  She was too busy clinging to him tightly, revelling in the sturdy strength of him, the leather of his vest smooth against her cheek, the rush of air as exhilarating as it had been the first time she’d ridden with him.  She loved her car, the Cougar, with all her heart, and she knew she would never want to drive anything else whilst she could keep the old girl running, but she felt a rush being on the back of Daryl’s bike that was unlike anything else she’d experienced.  Perhaps it was the loss of control that gave it that edge, because all she could do was hang on tight as he sped along, but it wasn’t scary; she knew that he would keep her safe.  Or perhaps it was just his close proximity and the excuse to drag herself as close to him as she possibly could, without worrying that he might pull away because they really did need to talk at some point soon.  

When the motorcycle finally slowed to a stop, the engine shuddering into silence, it took her a moment to realise where they were, but she could feel the tension threading through Daryl’s muscles, his whole body rigid beneath her hands as he prepared for her reaction.  The cabin was a sorry sight.  It looked lonely somehow, with the Cougar still parked haphazardly across the front of the porch steps, abandoned and coated in a fine layer of dust that the breeze had stirred up from the forest floor.  She swallowed hard, swinging herself off of the bike and slipping off her helmet, so she could run her fingers through her hair.

“You brought me home.”

“Thought it was time.”  He was studying her face, waiting to see if she’d crumble or yell, but she only nodded, taking a cautious step forward.  “He ain’t here, Tab.  He ain’t gonna hurt ya.  This is yer place, an’ yer dad’s.  Ya can’t let him take it.”

She knew he was right, and she rounded the car and climbed the steps one at a time, her heart pounding as she neared the front door.  Daryl was close behind her, tugging her keys from his pocket and handing them over so she could slide one into the lock.  The door swung soundlessly open, and, together, they stepped into the chaos.  The contents of the mantle had been swept to the floor, crushed beneath heavy boots.  The chairs on one side of the table were upended and scattered across the wooden boards, and the table itself was at an angle, where it had skidded under the force of her slamming into it.  The TV was lying screen-down on the rug, and there were patches of blood here and there, amongst the debris and shattered glass from the frames that had fallen from the wall.  She huffed a shaky sigh, feeling Daryl’s hands come to rest on her shoulders, as if he was trying to lend her some of his strength.

“Y’alright?”

“I- I think so.”  She closed her eyes, waiting for the panic and fear to take hold, but, to her surprise, those feelings never came, because it wasn’t Shane she saw, looming over her, his fists clenched.  Instead, it was Daryl, in the moment when she’d opened the door to him, the relief that flashed over his features, closely followed by shock and concern and sadness, and she remembered the sense of belonging she’d felt as she fell into his arms, as if it was okay for her to fall apart because she was finally home.  She’d been wrong, she realised.  It wasn’t the cabin that was her safe haven.  It was him.  It had been all along.  “Yeah, I’m actually okay.  I feel good.”

“Ya do?”

“Yeah, I do.”  She span on her heels, his touch falling away as she faced him, reaching up to cup his cheeks and smooth over his worry lines with the pads of her thumbs.  “Daryl, I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

“I already told ya, m'here as long as ya need me.”

“No, I don’t mean… It’s not that I’m afraid or that I’m lonely.  It’s not that I need you here.  I just…”  She paused, sucking in a deep breath as she watched his eyes search her face.  “The other day, you said that your place felt like a home with me there, do you remember that?”

He shrugged, the tips of his ears burning red.  “Mmhmm, course.”

“Well, that’s how I feel about you.  Like, whenever I’m with you, I’m home, and I belong somewhere, and that’s… I haven’t felt like that in a really long time.”  She heard Rick’s voice in her head, urging her on.  ‘When he comes back, you should tell him.’  “What you’ve done for me… And not just with Shane, but before that.  You went out of your way to give me rides so I wouldn’t be stuck out here, and you made time to hang out with me when you knew I was feeling alone, and you paid off the work on my car, and you gave me the best birthday I could have, under the circumstances.  And you have never once expected anything of me that I couldn’t give or asked me to be anyone but who I am.  You’ve never… never judged me for what I’m feeling or acted like it was some sort of personal slight if I was sad, and I- I didn’t know it was supposed to be like that.  I didn’t realise this was how it was supposed to feel... before you.”

He was watching her with a frown, unsure where this was going, and, when she paused to draw breath, he murmured her name.  Just her name.  “Tab.”

“I love you.”  The words burst forth from her, unable to be contained anymore, and she watched as a kaleidoscope of emotions passed over his face: surprise, disbelief, amusement, as if he thought she might be joking, and then, finally, a small smile tugged at his lips, and she couldn’t help but push herself up on to the tips of her toes to kiss him, sinking into him as she felt him relax against her.  When she pulled back, he was gazing at her, as if she was the sun or an angel or something just as momentous, and then he was ducking his head to hide his flushing cheeks, staring down at her hands where they rested against his chest.  “Say something, please.  I know I lied to you, and I know I hurt you, but it was… It was only because I didn’t want to lose you, because, I swear, Daryl, you’re the best thing in my life; the only thing, really.  And, I promise, I won’t ever, ever hurt you again.  I would never want to hurt you.  I’m so sorry.”

“I ain’t the only thing,” he pointed out, and she felt her heartbeat falter until he glanced up, arching a playful brow at her.  “Ya got Carol an’ Maggie.  Hell, Rick sat up half the night with ya, so I’d say ya’ve won him over.”

“Daryl!”

He smirked, but it soon disappeared, slipping into something more serious, and he nodded, dipping down to press his forehead to hers, bringing them almost nose to nose.  “Ya don’t got nothin’ to be sorry for, Tab.  I lost my temper, an’ I ain't never gonna forgive myself for that.  If I hadn’t… If I’d just heard ya out, then Shane might not’a… Ya might not’a got hurt.  S’my fault, an’ I ain’t never gonna stop tryn’a make it up to ya.”

“No, Daryl, you... You’re the reason I’m still here; the reason I feel safe enough to leave the house.  Not one part of it was your fault, and you still… You risked everything to fix it, to make it better.  I still can’t believe what you did for me.”

“I’d do anythin’ for ya.”  

She kissed him again then, couldn’t have stopped herself if she’d wanted to, but she knew now that it was okay, that they'd untangled themselves from the web of guilt that they’d both been caught up in, their apparently needless apologies setting them free.  As if to reassure her further, Daryl wrapped her up in his arms, pulling her so tight against him that her ribs ached and she felt breathless, but she didn’t even try to pull away.  She wasn’t sure that she’d ever felt so wanted, so needed, so loved in all her life, and it was dizzying, so that she had to cling to him to stop the room from spinning, and, when they finally broke apart, she buried her face in the crook of his neck, letting the familiar scent of him wash over her and calm her racing pulse. 

“Tab…”  His voice was a rough rasp, and it seemed to vibrate right through her, making her knees weak.  “Me too, y’know?”

“What?”  She pulled back to frown at him, confused.

“What ya said… Me too.”  He shrugged, avoiding her gaze for a moment and, when he looked back to her, his cheeks had darkened to a deep pink.  “Never thought I’d have somethin’ like this, but ya make it easy.”

“So, you’ll stay then?” she asked, her heart just about ready to burst because she couldn't even imagine being at peace now anywhere but where he was. But she also knew that she needed to honour her father and make the cabin a home again, to find the closure that she now knew she needed, and she was sure that Daryl recognised that too.

“I’ll stay,” he agreed, reaching up to tuck her hair back behind her ear, “help ya fix what’s broken.”

“Does that include me? Because I'm pretty sure I'm still kinda broken; just a little.”

“Might as well.”  His eyes were sparkling, and she knew her grin must match his own, enjoying the light-heartedness after the weight of their confessions, because, it seemed, he made it easy too.  “S’a big job though.  Could take years.”

“Could take a lifetime,” she teased, but, deep down, it was what she hoped for, what she knew she wanted more than anything else.

“Well then, guess I better get to work.”

*****

Drop me an ask if you’d like to be added to any of my tag lists!  Tags will be on the first reblog.

Feedback is always appreciated and reblogs get my motor runnin’! 🖤 Thank you for reading this series, and I really hope you enjoyed it x

[littlegodzilla]

Howl Story Guide

Hi everyone!

MASTERLIST:

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. part 4. part 5. part 6. part 7. part 8. part 9. Part 10. Part 11. Part 12. Part 13. Part 14 Part 15

Story Guide.

Howl. AU.

Daryl Dixon x OFC.

Warnings(for the story in general); AU. M, Smut, +18, hurt/comfrot, blood, ABO references, Knot thing, a lot of references about werewolves mixed with my own imagination.

Outside Narrator.

Races:

Metis: Sired between two werewolves product of love or desire breaking the established rules within the pack, but may be bred within the pack anyway if allowed. Usually marked with physical and psychological deformities, sterile and mostly disowned by their own kind.

Hominids: Of human mother and werewolf father, they grow up among humans and learn to live in society, nature is vague in them, but still they reach change like any other werewolf. Sometimes the packs find them before their first change or sometimes after.

Lupus: Born of a pair of werewolves. Their ability is reduced to being a wolf, human society and interaction with it has been scarce or non-existent throughout their lives, so they do not know how to behave in front of humans. They live mostly in forests or with their packs.

Characters outside TWD:

Ixeya: Omega. Born as a wolf her interaction with humans has been little to none. She lived with a nomadic pack moving north into the United States, but sensed the presence of an Alpha wanting to disassociate herself from her pack, being attacked and exiled. She has wandered the Woodbury woods searching for this male, but is so weak that she can barely maintain a defined form.

Ixeya Pack: A young pack with an Alpha of only two years of maturity. A Lupus who picked up his family's lineage by leading his new pack into the forests and territory that belonged to him by blood and heritage, the sons of werewolves are becoming increasingly scarce by USA and seek new members to join their pack, but an encounter with an adult Alpha will put their balance as a pack in jeopardy. The young Lupus will be intimidated by the presence of a mere Metis reject and will try to take over his own territory. But the Metis will not be alone.

Gaia: Deity of the Werewolves, the Mother who created them.

Alpha: Leader of the pack, pure lineage, bonds with its mate for life, mostly an Omega mate but there have been cases where Alphas also seek out other wolves or humans that do not meet the characteristics of an Omega.

Omega: Leader of the pack when she bonds with an Alpha who claims her, her Omega identity is awakened after her First Change, the Heat comes soon after. Once she is bonded to her Alpha by the Bite Mark, they will form their own pack, with their own pups and no other Alpha will be able to claim her. If that happens, the Alphas will be involved in a bloody fight, if the Alpha who marked her dies, the bond disappears and she can be claimed by another Alpha.

Heat:

For Ixeya being human and wolf she has two types of heat. The wolf heat that occurs in her twice a year, as Omega, is intense and desperate, she is not able to control herself, she desperately looks for an Alpha to take her as his, when she is Marked, then this heat will become less intense and only perceptible to her Alpha. As a human, every month she will have a period with bleeding that will last about a week.

For the males not Omegas there is no estrus as such, but they will be powerfully attracted to the females when they come into estrus, desiring to join them. Hierarchies in the herd establish who can and who cannot join with another mate. When these rules are broken, the offspring born are called Metis and are cursed by the herd. Often exiled or killed.

Pregnancy:

Depending on the mate or pregnancy.

If the couple is of different breeds, the female is dominant, if it is a Lupus the pregnancy will be in animal form and the pups will be born as wolf cubs that will present their first natural change as humans in six months, growing then as normal humans. After maturation and their first change, their aging will slow down like any werewolf reaching a long life of over a hundred years.

If Hominid the pregnancy will be in human form, with only one pup, multiple pregnancies are rare and scarce. Their first change occurs after human maturity and are usually more uncontrolled with lunar influx.

Metis are often sterile, the result of the curse imposed by the herd for breaking the established rules. Some cases of fertile males are known, but it is not known that they have had offspring, the Metis females that have managed to have cubs have died in childbirth along with their offspring.

The Ixeya herd is composed of several members of different races, Lupus and Hominids, but all are ruled under the command of the Alpha leader who is the only one who can have offspring, whoever he chooses as his mate, he does not have a unique female for himself. His intention was to unite with the Omega of the pack, but she ran away looking for an adult Alpha and was chased and punished for it.

I think that's all, if there is anything else that escapes me I will post it right here.

See you in the next post!

[princessmisery666]

Other Fandom's Master List

Warnings (detailed warnings on fics) -

🥰Fluff // 💔Angst // 💀Death // 🤬Language // 🔞Smut // 💋Cheating // 👊🏻Violence // 🍺Alcoholism // 🥵Implied Smut // ⚠Trigger Warning

The Gray Man

Retirement Plan

W/C: 8.5k. Pairing: platonic friendships Warnings: 💔👊🏻🤬🍺

Summary: After Six rescues Claire, there are no mission details to follow, no designated escape route, and no arranged extraction. However, Donald planned for the day Six would learn there is more to the Sierra Program than dangerous operations and battle scars.

Outer Range

Stealth

W/C: 634 Pairing: Rhett Abbott x fem!Reader Warnings: 🔞

Summary: Watching you work from the shadows, Rhett gets a little jealous. He decides you need a reminder of who you belong to. 

The Witcher

Magic Duck

W/C: 336 Pairing: none Warnings: 🤬🥰 crack-ish

Summary: Geralt takes a bath, Jaskier brings him some company.

Sons of Anarchy

Flirting With Mayhem

W/C: 2.8k Pairing: Opie Winston x fem!reader Warnings: 🔞💔🤬🥰

Summary: The graveyard shift is your favorite. The characters that wander into the all-night diner are weird and wonderful, none more so than Opie Winston.

Outer Banks

One Last Sunset

W/C: 6k Pairing: JJ Maybank x fem!reader Warnings: 💔🤬🥰

Summary: JJ’s so focused on what he doesn’t have he can’t see what’s right in front of him. You spend a whole summer trying to show him but it takes more than surf lessons for him to see that stupid things have good outcomes all the time.

Chicago PD/Fire/Med.

Trials, Tribulations & Triangles - WattPad  / AO3 / FFnet

W/C: 78k Pairing: Jay Halstead x OFC, Kelly Severide x OFC. Warnings:💀🤬💋👊🏻🥰🥵

Summary: Lexi Shay (Leslie Shay's twin sister), a Detective in the Intelligence Unit, deals with her sister's death, the end of her relationship with Severide and her budding relationship with her partner Halstead. What happens when she finds out she's the reason for her sisters death? How will she cope? How is an old case she worked involved?

Trials, Tribulations & Triangles Pt 2. WattPad  / AO3 / FFnet

W/C: 74k Pairing: Jay Halstead x OFC, Kelly Severide x OFC.  Warnings:⚠rape (mentioned not described)🤬💋👊🏻🥰🥵.

Summary: Set 6 weeks after part 1. Lexi & Jay run in to some major problems, can they work through them? Whilst working the case of a homicidal rapist, Lexi gets too close, taking unnecessary risks ultimately putting her job in jeopardy. There’s an unexpected marriage and Kelly is hanging around to comfort Lexi in her time of need.

The Walking Dead.

Ends Of The Earth - Or read on: FFnet

W/C: 1k Pairing: Daryl Dixon x OC/You/Whoever.  Warnings: 💔🥰

Summary: He's ok. He's ok. He's ok. I tell myself over and over again, it's more of an internal chant in my head now. I know he's ok, he can take care of himself, he has his weapons and he's not alone. But then the anxiety hits and I ask myself, for the millionth time, can we actually trust these people? A short scene of confessing love. I had a dream and it inspired me.

More fics for Supernatural, Fast & Furious, Buffy The Vampire Slayer, Angel, Teen Wolf. Can be found on FFNet. I’m over here: FFNet * /   Wattpad / AO3

*Disclaimer: Some fics posted on FFnet were written when I was a teenager so keep that in mind.

[shimmershae]

Just a few random thoughts and observations about Daryl’s Origins episode.

Basically my stream of consciousness bullshit brought over from Twitter, lol.  I almost didn’t watch the episode after seeing all the drama over there, but ultimately I decided to because frankly?  I don’t trust certain fans’ perceptions of events.  For reasons.  It’s best, I feel, to always watch with your own eyes and form your own independent opinions because this fandom is teeming with people that delight in tormenting other fans by being very selective and oftentimes downright misrepresentative about what they pass along.  

More under the cut because this is random and all over the place and basically excerpts of my live blogging while watching the special.  Did I mention it’s random?  

You know.  It sure would be nice not going into one of these things so apprehensive.  Maybe one day, hmm?  

First things first.  From the very beginning of this Origins episode, I’m reminded of two things:  1).  Our introduction to Daryl, his colorful Dixonese, and his particular brand of humor certainly stands out as one of show's more memorable introductions.  2).  TWD certainly regressed on the deer front. I mean.  Daryl's deer>Richonne's deer.

I’m never going to get over "On Golden Pond."  Never ever and look.  I actually liked Dale but Daryl spitting those words at him still makes me laugh until I'm weak.

Daryl's still searching all these years later.  Or is he?  Really?  Seems to me the man's found exactly what he's been looking for and he's been chasing it since he came back from those woods:  a future with his soulmate.  The one that happens to be his best friend.  OFC, I’m talking about Carol. Who else?  

How pretty and soft are baby Daryl and Carol?  Too pretty and soft for this tired heart to withstand.  Like I love all versions of them, but baby Daryl and Carol just hit different.  

My immediate thought re: the Beth comment-- Misreads the situation?  WTF?  Whoever wrote this script just had to re-inject some eww into the narrative didn't they?  All those damn dirty spoons.  Ever think about how much it probably reeks in that office space?

Moving along, though.  Here’s some real facts.  Carol is so intrinsically woven into the fabric of Daryl's story, the only way she can be removed is if they are literally both destroyed and cease to exist.  Something happens to Carol?  The man is going to be a reanimated body without a heartbeat.  Basically a Walker.

 An aside, I know they're not making me rewatch a scene I haven't watched since the first time it aired.  The way Negan's head bashing tendencies had me seeing red and wanting that barbed wire bat shoved up his ass every time I saw his face.  My JDM love really took a serious hit for awhile.  I'm never going to forgive the character that hateful act.  I just can't.

Somehow I wasn't expecting this to be a teleprompter-fest.  Like who wrote this script?  Hmm.   Sorry.  Don't mind me.  Lost in my thoughts per usual. You know.  It still strikes me as hella insensitive that Rick had Daryl leading the Sanctuary community knowing what he suffered there.  There's no way Daryl would have returned that kind of favor.  

Yep.  Leah still feels tacked on last minute.  A means to an end.  Sigh.   They completely glossed her over here.  Too bad they had that lapse in judgment with some other toxic waste.  I cannot believe they touched that with a ten foot pole.  It's just cringe-worthy and wrong.

"Daryl can't say no to Carol."  They say those words and I’m like “Join the club, my dude.  Join the club, lol.”  

You know.  All the Carol-related moments in this Daryl Dixon recap speak for themselves.  She's his person, dammit.

Okay though.  That reunion in the tall grass with the sun shining on them all golden and picturesque, after Alpha’s taken Daryl to show him her horde?  That's some romance novel shit right there.  "Look at me.  Just look at me."   I'm never going to recover from that moment or the discovery of Sophia.  They break my heart so.  

This recap is literally 2/3's Carol and the other 1/3 Rick and everybody else.  I mean.  It's so obvious.  Utterly and completely misrepresented by some agenda-driven folks.  

"We have a future."   Oh.  Just some pretty, meaningless words you say everyday to all your friends, lol.   Just friends my whole entire ass.  

"I'm never gonna hate you."  Okay, AMC.  Back up all the talk with some action that even the most willfully blind cannot deny, m'kay?  Because they're not going to buy it until you're explicit about it.  Just saying.

The amount of times "Carol" has left this man's mouth during this recap, lol, and some people keep wanting to ignore it. 

Aww.  Guess who they showed when Daryl mentioned family?  How sweet.  And when they mentioned purpose in connection with C0nnie, it was not any indication of romance, IMHO.  

Let me explain.  

By the time C0nnie is lost,  Daryl’s floundering because he feels he hasn’t been able to help Carol despite giving it all and pushing back his previously established comfort zone(s).  Enter these pair of sisters.  And they put him in mind of the good parts of him and Merle.  Probably they make him remember  the Greene girls when things were good and hopeful before they went sideways.  In some small way, he’s probably reminded of other family units like Rick and Carl and Lori and Carol and Sophia and later Henry.  And all of those people have something in common.  Well, besides being people Daryl has known and cared for.  They’ve seen their family units fractured and/or destroyed by tragedies wrought by the world they live in.   They made a point and emphasized that Daryl’s a searcher and also that family matters to him.  In some way or form he’s been doing his best to help repair or reunite all these different family members since the beginning and ultimately he’s failed to succeed each time.  So yeah.  He’s been given a purpose in a time of uncertainty again with her because this time he’s determined to get it right.  This time he wants to bring the two sisters back together the way he couldn’t do for the Greene girls.  Like I did not, do not read anything romantic at all into that comment. Just my take on things.  Obviously, everyone else’s mileage may vary.  I’ll step off my soapbox now.  Hopefully, maybe these words might comfort.  

So relax, lovelies.  It wasn't as bad as I feared.  Sure, they could have left that one icky comment out but they didn't and honestly?  I don't think it's a positive for that particular 'relationship' because it's something that's brought up to show just how messed up Daryl was.  Because grown men that have their heads on straight don't usually have those type of misreads.  They know they are inappropriate.  Like I'm not putting Daryl into the pedo category because I don't feel like he belongs there.  But I can see how him being so emotionally stunted and naive so far as interpersonal relationships and the nuances of friendship and non-toxic family could lend itself to him maybe reading more into those moments than were really there and not really knowing how to deal.  

Whoever wrote that teleprompter script though?  That particular asshole is probably grinning like a donkey with a mouth full of briars at all the unnecessary drama they stirred up yet again. Like newsflash, goober.  There are better ways to foster interest in your show.

They should hire a team of fans to do the promotion.  Fans that represent all factions of this fractured fandom so the promotion is well-rounded and not so heavily slanted toward any one of them but the diverse fandom as a whole.

Stop fanning the stupid ship wars and just celebrate the damn characters and the overall story.   Nothing new or groundbreaking to see on this first Origins story but hey.  Who doesn't mind a decent recap now and then?  That said, don't sweat not having AMC+ or feel like you missed all that much because you didn't.

I do have to say.  Them pretending B3th was the first girl to be nice to Daryl really had me going WTF.  

I mean, there’s this little exchange from Carol, the first woman to be nice to Daryl, probably the first person from the group--

"You're every bit as good as them.  Every bit."   

  AMC?  TWD?  Do you even watch your own show?  

There you have it.  My bullshit stream of consciousness, originally posted over on Twitter as I liveblogged the show.  Hope you got something helpful or of entertainment value from this.  

Goodnight, lovelies.  

Until next time.  

[snarkwrites]

-- masterlist -- archived, 2020

[18+ advised ] This is going to be long af. I’m going to do my best to put everything - all my writing on this blog, in one goddamn place, but I make no promises, so forgive me in advance. Below the cut is everything I’ve written and posted, for every single fandom I’ve written for so far. If [mature] or [suggestive] is present in the title/post, 18+ only. If you’re looin for y/n here, you won’t really  find it. I prefer to use oc’s in writing most of the time because it’s easier for me.

** the titles in bold and not linked I either haven’t written or I’ve lost the link for. jsyk. I do that so that when/if I get around to writing something, it’s already got a place. It’s weird, I’m weird.**

If you want to be on the taglist for my writing, you can find that [here]. If you want to know what I write / how often I write and stuff like that, my faq/about post is [here]

--𝔸𝕞𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕟 ℍ𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕠𝕣 𝕊𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪

[ 1984 ]

 xavier plympton - cherry popped | spring | mature.

--ℂ𝕊𝕀

[ Miami ]

eric delko - tba | fall/winter | mature.

tim speedle - perfect | spring | mature.

[ Vegas ]

greg sanders - tba | fall/winter | mature.

-- 𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕧𝕖𝕝 ℂ𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕔 𝕌𝕟𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕖

[ Avengers ]

bucky barnes - slippery when wet | winter | mature.

captain america - choke me | winter | suggestive.

pietro maximoff - faster, baby | spring | mature.

[ Guardians Of The Galaxy ] 

starlord - eat me | spring | mature.

[ Venom ]

eddie brock - milf isn’t a bad word | spring | mature.

-- ℝ𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕕𝕒𝕝𝕖

archie andrews - tba | summer/fall | mature.

jughead jones - tba | summer/fall | mature.

reggie mantle - yours  | summer | mature.

sweet pea - selfish | summer | mature.

--𝕊𝕠𝕟𝕤 𝕆𝕗 𝔸𝕟𝕒𝕣𝕔𝕙𝕪

juice ortiz - needed me | spring | mature.

--𝕊𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕣 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤

billy hargrove - tba | summer/fall | mature.

jonathan byers - surrender | summer | mature.

steve harrington - wet | summer | mature.

steve harrington - disaster | summer | mature.

--𝕊𝕦𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕟𝕒𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕒𝕝

dean winchester - tba | summer/fall | mature.

kevin tran - tba | fall / winter | suggestive.

sam winchester - tba | summer/fall | mature.

-- 𝕋𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥

embry call - tba | summer/fall | mature.

jacob black - found you | spring | mature.

paul lahote - tba | summer/fall | mature.

-- 𝔽𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕒𝕪 ℕ𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕃𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕤

matt saracen, remember you young by thomas rhett | angst & fluff / reunion

-- 𝕊𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕣 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤

jonathan byers, i think i love you | fluff. two best friends admitting their feelings for each other. an au take on my oc pairing with Steve Harrington, so an au of an au oops rip.

steve harrington, blindsided | fluff and awkward cute first kisses,ftw.

-- 𝟙𝟚 ℝ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕤 𝟛: 𝕃𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕟

jon shaw - galentines / be my valentine - ex lovers, drinking tw, intense fluff.

-- 𝔸𝕞𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕟 ℍ𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕠𝕣 𝕊𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪

[ Apocalypse ]

michael langdon - moon dance - a witch and her dance under the moon captivates Michael Langdon. sexual tension, ftw.

-- 𝔸𝕣𝕣𝕠𝕨𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕖

[ Legends Of Tomorrow ]

ray palmer - back where you came from - time travel, mutual crushes

ray palmer - bachlorette party gone wrong or right - flirty first meeting at a bachelor party

ray palmer - villainesses want heroes - a good guy with a bad girl? more likely than you think. 

-- ℂ𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕝𝕖 ℝ𝕠𝕔𝕜

 dennis zalewski - photo booth montage - angst / hurt comfort, major character death & mourning, ghosts.

the kid / henry deaver - you were different - alternate universe personas reunite, intense makeout ensues.

--𝔻ℂ ℂ𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕔

[ Suicide Squad ] 

captain boomerang - expecting someone taller - first date / blind date.

-- 𝔽𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕒𝕪 ℕ𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕃𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕤

 landry clarke - if i only had a brain | someday my prince will come - tutor turned friend turned crush. kissing and stuff.

tim riggins - wedding bell blues | so this is love - a wedding brings two people closer and the end result is Riggins, settling down.

tim riggins - voice like honey - tim flirting with a new girl in Dillon? the chances are more likely than you think.

-- 𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕧𝕖𝕝 ℂ𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕔

[ Avengers ] 

bucky barnes - girls,girls,girls - bucky’s omega likes to dance. and to offer herself up as bait. bucky doesn’t like this... intense heated conversation ensues.

captain america - no selfies in the bathroom please? - oh, nothing but Steve Rogers and an OC flirting over the phone. Innuendo towards the end if you squint.

[ Punisher]

 frank castle - patient of the week - patching up Frank isn’t the only thing she longs to do. A kiss is shared.

-- 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕞𝕖𝕝𝕖𝕤𝕤

lip gallagher - wedding crasher | the nanny and the professor - lip and his girl and their ups and downs. They go from him crashing her wedding drunk to the two having a night of domestic bliss.. and a kid. mildly suggestive the second part is.

-- 𝕊𝕠𝕟𝕤 𝕆𝕗 𝔸𝕟𝕒𝕣𝕔𝕙𝕪

juice ortiz - crow flies | rough rider | treat you as good as my leather - snippets from the relationship between juice and my OC, Hazel Teller.

juice ortiz - glass houses | throwing stones - more from relationship between Juice Ortiz and Hazel Teller, tbh. 

-- 𝕊𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕣 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤

billy hargrove - let the days go by - flashbacks to a first meeting as an OC mourns Billy’s supposed death post S3.

jonathan byers - should’ve been a better shot - Tommy H’s girlfriend (not Carol, an oc) is getting more than a little sick of being Tommy’s property. Kissing Jonathan Byers seems like a good way to end that and to let jonathan know that she likes him a lot. Fluff/humor, warnings of Tommy H being his usual asshole douchenozzle self.

steve harrington - glass houses | throwing stones, this is set in the now main au timeline I have for Steve Harrington and my original character Charlotte Granger.

-- 𝕊𝕦𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕟𝕒𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕒𝕝

crowley - the witching hour - just a father/daughter heart to heart with Poppy. family bonding ftw. [ goes with pop goes my heart tangentially]

dean winchester - pop goes my heart - poppy gets under his skin in all the wrong ways AND all the right ones. 

dean winchester - gingerbread family - the boys find themselves waking up to Christmas as a totally normal family. How will they react to the things they find themselves able to do at last?

sam winchester - heaven knows - his guardian angel only wanted to protect him. now she’s been banished to earth and she’s mortal. and they wind up flirting / getting closer.

sam winchester - candy apple kisses | gingerbread family - sam never forgot about her. maybe that’s why as a result of a wish he and dean may or may not have both made, he wakes up to find himself married to her.

-- 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕎𝕒𝕝𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕕

[ The following ones are all part of this huuuuge everchanging universe/storyline that I have with BOTH men, for my OC Evie. In some, she’s with Daryl, in others, Shane. They’re all wildly canon divergent and all over the place, lmao.]

daryl dixon - watch the world burn [married au] | a vision from a sugarplum fairy | garden by the sea  - a series of alternate takes / twists and moments between my OC Evie Grimes and Daryl Dixon.

shane walsh - scream queen [reunited lovers au] | sweet morning rose | you and your high horse - a series of alternate takes/twists and moments between my OC Evie Grimes and Shane Walsh.

-- 𝕋𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥

jacob black, one day more, angst | 

-- ℂ𝕣𝕚𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕝 𝕄𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕤

derek morgan x -being roommates with | 

-- 𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕧𝕖𝕝 ℂ𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕔 𝕌𝕟𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕖

sam wilson / falcon x - dating falcon | 

CSI MIAMI;

tim speedle [ d m y ] | [ b o u ] | [ c e k ] | j w x | l f | 

STAR WARS;

kylo ren [ k l r ] | 

CSI: Las Vegas;

t r o u b l e | greg sanders x Sidle!Sibling OFC, Belle | genres : suspense/action, romance / fluff, hurt comfort, angst, slow burn | chapters : [ one | two | three pt1| three pt2 | four | five | soundtrack: here | warnings: slow burn, attempted murder tw, murder mentions / crime mentions tw, eventual smut/sexual content tw, [ discontinued to be rewritten ]

CSI:Miami;

m i n e | tim speedle x former lover!OFC, Sylvie | genres : suspense/action, romance/fluff, hurt comfort, angst, slow burn | chapters : [ one two pt 1 two pt 2 three three pt 2 ] | soundtrack: here | warnings: slow burn, crime / stalker tw, other themes and eventual smut/sexual content tw, [discontinued to be rewritten]

Riverdale;

gangsta | sweetpea x Andrews!SiblingOFC, Alyssa | genres: teen angst - drama, suspense, hurt comfort, romance, slow burn | chapters: one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight - nine - ten- eleven - twelve - thirteen - fourteen - | soundtrack: here | warnings: fighting / swearing, sexual tension, awkward situations & eventual smut.. your typical high school overdramatic bs. Bit of an au because I only plan to loosely follow the series. | [ discontinued to be rewritten ]

Sons Of Anarchy;

home | juice ortiz x Teller!OFC, Hazelynn | genres: action / suspense, hurt/comfort, angst, slow burn, romance, smut | chapters: one - two - three - | soundtrack: here | warnings: slow burn, heavy sexual tension, violence and other adult themes, alcohol / drugs / illegal activities, sex worker ofc tw, sexual content eventually | [ being rewritten to be reposted soonish ]

Stranger Things;

upside down | steve harrington x OFC, Jenny | genres: teen angst - drama, suspense, hurt comfort, friendship, fluff, action, | chapters: one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - | soundtrack: here | warnings: fighting / swearing, sexual tension, awkward situations & eventual smut... your typical high school drama + science fiction-y type misadventures,lmaoo. | [discontinued to be rewritten]

[coffee-obsessed-writer]

Fan Fic: Every 4. You know I don’t read them.

You crack me up.... Here we go with every fourth one!!

4. What fandom’s/ship’s fan fiction do you read the most? I don’t read any ships tbh... I have pairings from favorite shows but when I read fan fics its usually character x reader inserts.

8. Bed sharing or roommates AU? Please... BEDSHARING ROOMATES... Duh.

12. Friends with benefits or secret dating? Oh I am a SUCKER for secret dating... there is something about it that makes me all mushy.

16. Describe your WIP that currently has the highest word count. Oh, that’s easy... When You Least Expect It. Jensen x Reader RPF that has easily over 100K words right now and still have six chapters to write. 

20. Do you have a favorite fanfic or author? If so, tag them/post a link and share the love! I can’t pick just one. That’s like asking me to pick a favorite kid. Here are just a few that I truly love and admire...

@kazosa because her stories always leave me reeling... they feel real and authentic, but with an air of magic that she captures in amazing ways. Need to know more? Reading A Mutually Beneficial Arrangement and then come back to me and we’ll talk.

@hornsbeforehalos her RPF is addicting... her Dean x OFC stories rock my world and the way she writes Daryl Dixon... MY LAWD. Makes me sweat....

@katehuntington Has a way with details that amaze me. Her attention to these little things in her fics bring them to life in a way I’d never experienced. Though I don’t read a ton of fics anymore, she’s hands down an author you SHOULD NOT MISS OUT ON.

A few others I would feel remiss not mentioning because they are just creative, talented and amazing authors are:

YOU silly girl... as well as... @idreamofplaid @sorenmarie87 @winchest09 @fictionalabyss @atc74 and @crashdevlin

Thanks for the asks my friend!

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

OR another idea: don’t ask me how that happened, but merle has a child (and ofc it’s reader) but since he doesn’t really take care of her - are we surprised? - daryl does and he sees her as her own daughter

(tbh idk how to feel about this one but.. yeah :D)

༉‧₊˚. 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐚𝐠𝐞 || 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧

― pairing: daryl dixon & teenage dixon!reader (platonic)

― era: season 1

― summary: merle didn't even want you in the first place, but with the state having been at your neck before the world ended, it looks like your stuck with your bigot father and quiet uncle.

― warnings: shane is a warning within itself, so is merle, mentions of drugs, mentions of prostitution, mentions of heroin usage, mentions of drinking, smoking, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, merle is a dead beat but fuck him anyway we don't care, uncle daryl to the rescue, daryl dixon fluff, angst, arguing, teenage hormones.

― wc: 1618

⋆ a/n: thank you anon so much for both of your requests that you've sent! this is 1/2 so!! and be surer if your ideas next time, because this was a lovely write, and i honestly enjoyed writing it! since they're still related in some way, i tried to make the character the same as them loosely, mostly in personality and such!

masterlist | AO3

It was safe to say you hated everyone; maybe it was grungy teenage hormones, or the fact that you were required by the state to live with your shitty dad and your uncle. Merle knew that you existed, but he never bothered to even try and reach out to your mom or even offer any help, let alone put his name on your birth certificate. You were glad that you didn’t uphold the Dixon name, because for the short three months that you lived with the brothers, they brought you nothing but disappointment. Your dad a loudmouthed, sexist, racist, drug addicted pig; your uncle, a closed off and reserved man that could never seem to think for himself, always following Merle around like a lost puppy.

It was safe to say you haven’t had the easiest childhood, with your mom having been a prostitute, it was easy for her to fall into habits such as alcoholism and drugs. Merle really wasn’t picky with the women he had sex with, and that’s what set you up for failure before you were even born. Your home was a little run-down trailer that your mother couldn’t even be bothered to try and clean up, leaving out heroin needles, beer cans, food wrappers, and the overflowing ash tray on your cluttered coffee table across from the miniature sofa – that was your makeshift bed because she didn’t want to give up the queen size bed. By the time you reached high school you were skipping class and stealing your mother’s cigarettes.

Due to her neglect and the fact that you hadn’t attended school since your freshman year, the corrupt justice system sent you off to your closest relative, and that was your dad. They knew he was no good, having been in and out of many prisons and well acquainted with the cops around town, but it didn’t seem to make a difference, they just wanted you off their hands.

It wasn’t like he greeted you with open arms either, often locking you out of the townhouse all three of you lived in simply because he forgot you existed.

When the world ended, you hadn’t been home in what had seemed like forever, often disappearing to God knows just to forget about the world around you. You hadn’t left your spot at the train tracks just meters away from your townhouse that was separated by a mere tree line, and much to your surprise, Daryl had been the one to come and snatch you up, telling you something along the lines of “Get yer ass up, girl. We gotta go.” You followed begrudgingly of course, rather dying wherever you were at than having to be forced to be near your piece of shit father.

The night that you had all left Atlanta together, you watched as planes flew over your heads, bombing what was left of the city.

Life had been mundane since finding the quarry and being hesitantly taken in by its inhabitants.

You were sitting at the campfire that was dimming, many were already sleeping, and you had no idea if the Dixons were too since both men wanted to set up their tents away from all the others. You really didn’t want to make the walk through the woods, unaware of what might be hiding within the shadows, and you didn’t have the energy to try and kill any of those bastards.

Reaching in your coat pocket, you were frustrated to find that you only had three cigarettes left. Sighing, you took one out and leant forward, lighting it with the dying flames that barely poked out from under the charred wood. You breathed in the fumes, releasing it and allowing your body to relax into the fold out chair.

“You shouldn’ be smokin’ that shit.” You heard a voice sound from behind you. You only rolled your eyes as he took a seat on another folded out chair next to you. You took another hit of the cancerous stick. “Don’t be a prude, Uncle Daryl.” You said with a smirk. As you spoke, you blew the smoke out of your mouth, the clouds causing your voice to sound foggy.

“Ya heard me.” You heard him say before he plucked the thing out from between your fingers and threw it in the pit. “What the fuck?!” You said angrily, “I’m on my last pack. Fucking dick.” You mumbled the last part to yourself, but he heard it. “I’m jus’ tryna look out for ya. No need for ya to be a little asshole.” He bit back at you with narrowed eyes.

“What’s the point in looking out for me now? You sure as shit didn’t when the world was up and moving. No need to try and take care of me just because the dead are walking. Either way, I’m gonna die, either getting the skin ripped off my bones or lung cancer.” You got up as you glared at him. “You don’t owe me shit, Daryl. Just leave me alone.”

Yes, you were being too hard on him, but there was a part of you that was bitter, that felt left behind by the world, like you didn’t deserve to be there in the first place. Little did you know, that’s exactly how Daryl felt too.

You had woken up sweaty, the Georgian heat bleeding through the thin walls of your tent. The area around you was quiet as you got up, walking over to the men’s tent and snatching back the tent flap only to find it empty. You had no idea where your dad or uncle was. You paid no mind to their absence as you wadded through the woods to see that there was barely anyone at the heart of the camp.

“Good afternoon sleepy head.” Carol greeted you sweetly. She was brushing through her little girl’s hair, braiding it between her nimble fingers. If there was one person you couldn’t bring yourself to be rude to despite your distaste for many of those around you, it was Carol. You had recognized that she had already been through enough, with her abusive husband breathing down her and her daughter’s neck.

“You can’t jus’ keep sleepin’,” You Shane piped up. “Ya gotta pull your weight around here just like everyone else.” You huffed. “I just woke up man, get off my dick.” You said crudely, taking the plate of cooked squirrel that Carol had saved just for you. That seemed to piss the ex-cop off because he slapped the plate out of your hand, getting in your face as he glared down at you.

“Listen here, Dixon. Yer the oldest of any of the kids here, you don’t jus’ get a free pass ‘cause yer dad and uncle does the huntin.’” You glared up at him. “First of all, I ain’t no Dixon.” You said with a clenched jaw, a bit of your southern accent spilling out from between your lips. “Secondly, if you mean doing laundry or cooking while the men do the killing and the women do the chores, then no chance in hell.” Your words were laced with venom, the battle for dominance between you and the older man evident as he attempted to stare you down. “Well, I for one don’t care what you think.” He all but growled.

“Seems like agree on something.” You spat.

“Aye!” You heard Daryl yell as he emerged from the woods. “The hell’s goin’ ‘ere?” He questioned; his eyes trained on Shane. “Dealin’ with your niece’s smart mouth that’s what.” You just scoffed. “Oh please. You were acting like a douchebag.” He stepped closer to you, causing you to lean back. “You wanna say that again?”

Before things could take a turn for the worse, you felt Daryl’s hand land on your forearm to tug you away from the man. You let him, despite the overwhelming need to knock Shane silly, your fists twitching at your sides and your irises burned with the flames of a thousand suns.

“I got ‘er. C’mon.” You heard your uncle say softly.

He led you back your camp where he sat you and him down on a rouge log.

“Ya can’t be getting’ into fights with him like that.” He scolded.

“He was treating me like I was some kid he could talk down to! Hell, even knocked my fuckin’ plate out of my hand like an immature asshole!” If there was one thing Daryl was sure of, it was that you were a Dixon, no matter how badly you tried to deny it, you had their hot-headedness and all, even down to his own preference cigarette brand.

“I can make ya some more. I jus’ don’ want ya getting’ hurt ‘cause I don’t trust Shane, not one bit, and I don’ know what he’ll do. Especially if me and Merle ain’ around.”

“It’s not like Merle would try and protect me anyways. If anything, he’d thank that bastard for getting rid of me. I’ve been nothing but a burden to him no matter how hard I try to separate myself away from him, from both you.” You spoke solemnly. Usually, you never spoke like this, but Daryl’s surprisingly soft words melted you like butter.

“You don’ need to separate yerself from me ‘cause yer not a burden, even if Merle can’t see that.”

There was a part of you that wanted to believe him, to find comfort in the callous redneck, and for a moment, you do, allowing yourself to lay your head on his shoulder.

“Merle is a dick, huh?” You ask with a small, watery laugh.

“Mhm.” He hummed, even though you knew it was one of approval.

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[txladyj-blog]

This Time Around - Chapter 23

A Daryl Dixon x OFC collaboration written by @xmistressmistrustx​ by request of @txladyj-blog​

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character

Tags: Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Awkwardness, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Crush, Fluff and Humor, Angst and Humor, Mild Smut, Strong Language, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Some Canon Scenes and Dialogue

Chapters 26/?

Back in Alexandria, it was early evening and Abraham was hauling wooden railway sleepers from a truck and dragging them to the vegetable patches along with some of the other members of the community. Daryl’s trip with Jess along with their prolonged hug had been playing on his mind over and over for hours and he felt his skin begin to crawl with anxiety if he sat still for too long and so, decided to give Abe a hand when he walked past and saw the sweat-covered, ginger man swearing to himself and dragging the heavy items around.

Daryl and Abraham weren’t exactly close. They trusted each other enough to have each-others backs and recognized each other’s fighting skills and abilities, along with the out-of-the-box way they both seemed to view the world. From time to time, they engaged in basic conversation but Abraham's brash and extroverted personality was the opposite of Daryl’s and he often found that his energy was sapped from a five-minute interaction. On this occasion, chat wasn’t needed but Daryl did have an ulterior motive. He had a question to ask and needed to hear the answer from Abraham’s point of view but had no idea how to go about it without letting the proverbial cat out of the bag. Spotting his chance when Rosita ambled past and held a hand up in a wave to them both, he decided to bite the bullet and just ask.

“You uh… you n’ Rosita, you still a thing?” He questioned warily.

Abraham slotted the sleeper he was holding into position with a swift and strong kick of his boot and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. His white vest was stained with perspiration on the front and his gloves were saturated from being used as towels.

“Still very much got me by the short n’ curlies.” He chuckled.

Daryl cleared his throat and checked over his shoulder, seeing most of the others gathering around the truck a good distance away to be able to overhear anything.

“Right. Right. So, you um, you ain’t gunnin’ for Jess?”

Abraham shot Daryl a suspicious look and his mouth curled into a smile beneath his thick mustache. He laughed loudly and did a double take at him while retrieving a cigar and a box of matches from his pocket and lighting up. It wasn’t a total surprise, he had to admit. He’d seen the way Daryl scowled and stalked off when he spoke to Jess and he was witness to the scene in the armory which had left her beside herself with guilt. Rick had also mentioned that he thought it to be a matter of time before things evolved between them. He wasn’t sure himself if he could see it happening at the time, but there was Daryl standing in front of him and asking if he had any romantic intentions for Jess.

“Goodness gracious, Ignatius.” He said tunefully, quickly lowering his voice and glancing around “She’s got your attention”

“What? Naw, man. I’m just checkin’.” Daryl denied a little less convincingly than he’d hoped. His heart rate was starting to increase and he was instantly regretting saying anything at all.

“Checkin’ for what, exactly?” Abraham pressed.

Panic jolted through him. He hadn’t thought that far ahead. Why exactly could he say he was asking? Jess had already put a stop to any ideas that they were more than friends, but Daryl had to be sure and cover all the bases. He just couldn’t admit to Abraham of all people that he had very confusing and strong feelings for his best friend before even telling Jess herself.

“She’s a friend. I don’t want her getting’ her ass kicked by Rosita. Y’know, this ain’t no romance novel bullshit.”

“Huh. My love life is more of a porno than a romance novel. I ain’t about to change it. So long as I can keep pouring’ the Bisquick without makin’ pancakes.” He remarked, amused at his own humorous take on things “Huh? Huh?” He encouraged with two nudges of Daryl’s arm.

“Right.” Was Daryl’s reserved response.

Abraham bustled past him, placing a big hand on his back and guiding him away from the workforce that were now making their way over to the patch adjacent. He turned him away from any prying eyes and addressed him with a permanent, knowing smile.

“C’mon, I didn’t just fall off the turnip truck. I know what’s going on here.” He said.

“Yeah, what’s that?” Daryl challenged, only slightly confident that he could hold his own with the conversation.

“You gotta just grab the bull by the nut sack.”

Daryl raised an eyebrow and leaned back slightly, perplexed by Abraham's choice of words and even more so by his grabbing gesture with one hand. It wasn’t far off from how his brother used to speak, only Abraham was quite clearly intelligent enough to use colorful metaphors without caring what anyone thought of it.

“What in the hell are you talkin’ ‘bout?” He questioned “Jess ain’t no bull”

“OK, forget that. Tell her you wanna get busy with her, see how she reacts” He suggested.

“I aint tellin’ her nothin’.” Daryl quickly replied with a step backwards as if he wanted to leave the topic, which he very much did by then.

“Then the only way you’re gonna get laid is if you crawl up a chicken’s ass and wait. It’s the apocalypse, Daryl. Sometimes you gotta just ask for what you want.” Abraham reasoned. After all, he’d asked Rosita and she’d been more than happy to oblige. He didn’t see anyone else as being much different and figured that if everyone was just straight with one another, things would be a lot easier.

“I ain’t doin’ that.” Daryl dismissed.

Abraham chuckled once more, slapping Daryl’s back with a huge paw and shaking his head in amusement.

“Ahh, hell. Balls just called. They wanted to know if you’d like a pair.” He joked.

“Look, it ain’t like that. I’m just…makin’ sure she’s okay.” Daryl confirmed, shrugging Abraham from his shoulder and backing up. He could see some of the other workers glancing up at them. Far from being a quiet man, Abe’s booming voice proved to be a lot louder than either of them first thought and Daryl was becoming highly uncomfortable.

“Whatever. Just think about it. She’s a peach, she’d be damn good for you.” Abraham suggested, puffing cigar smoke into a large cloud between them and tugging his gloves off. “I gotta go to guard duty. But I’ma get me some ass first.” He conveyed casually as he stepped down from the vegetable patch and headed across the street.

“Didn’t need to know that.” Daryl grumbled to himself.

*

Tower watch was usually done on a rotational basis and Jess, being a non-resident of Alexandria, was exempt from such duties. From time to time, she would surprise Deanna and volunteer her time, finding that walking the perimeter or sitting in the tower was a cure for her restlessness. Daryl was no different and as a recruiter, he was also omitted from the guard schedule but often found himself in the comforting, quiet confines of the wooden structure with a rifle, a pack of smokes and his jumbled thoughts when reading to Judith didn’t quite manage to calm his soul enough.

It was a cold night and a dense fog hung in the air like a blanket over the trees. Recent conversations floated around in his memories and he was sure his sides still tingled from time to time with the memory of Jess’s arms wrapped around him. He lit a cigarette and time passed between the spark of his lighter and when he smiled as he dwelled, yet again on the thought of Jess telling him he could hug her whenever he wanted. He wouldn’t, of course. It was far from how he conducted himself and any physical contact normally came with a lot of forethought and mental preparation.

His cigarette balanced precariously between his lips as he tilted his head back and took a drag without even touching it. He expelled the smoke from his nose, the cloudy appearance of the small tower room reminding him of his dream in which Merle had tried to urge him to do something about his feelings.

‘Times a-wastin’, Daryl. Get to it.’

He wished he could. Wished that everything really was that simple. Wished that he knew for sure that she felt something for him the way he did for her. But all he had was a notion, a few blushes and compliments that could be nothing more than a basic appreciation between two friends.

The door below clunked shut and Daryl could hear footsteps on the rungs of the ladder approaching. He threw his smoke away and looked over his shoulder to await the arrival of his visitor. It was past midnight and highly unusual for anyone else to be up in the tower except for the person on guard. Daryl never had company while he was on watch and that, to him, was one of the perks of the job.

When Jess appeared clutching a bag of cookies and pushing her hood back from her face, he figured that maybe tower watch had other perks too. Namely, that he could very well be about to spend time with a pretty girl, cooped up in a wooden box in the sky.

“Ya don’t gotta stay.” Was the first thing he said. He didn’t know why and realized as he said how strange it sounded. Almost like he wanted her to turn around and climb back down the ladder, which he didn’t.

Unimpressed, Jess squinted down at him and huffed out her obvious disapproval.

“Really?! ‘Can I visit you, Jess? You don’t have to be here, Jess’.” She quoted “Talk about mixed signals, stinky.”

Daryl, confused by his own actions, messily waved a hand at the empty chair beside him.

“Take a damn seat n’ quit complainin’.” He grumbled.

The two chairs in the tower were no more than a foot apart and Jess dragged hers even closer still and settled down in front of the window with the rifle resting on the wall on Daryl’s side. She opened the paper bag in her lap and handed him a cookie, telling him they were from Carol and she’s sent them because she knew he hadn’t eaten that day. It was evident that Carol was right when Daryl managed to put away three large cookies in a matter of seconds and Jess peered down at her first, half eaten baked treat as hers was made of lead.

Since the boat and Daryl’s admission of his dream about Merle, Jess wondered if he would ever provide her with more information pertaining to his death and the events that lead up to it. She was curious and more than that, she was concerned that his inability to move past it was presenting itself in his subconscious, when he dreamed. Having reached what she thought to be a pivotal point in their friendship, where they hugged and she awoke with him curled up against her, she guessed it was now that was the right time to ask.

“Can I ask you something? About your brother.” She said

Daryl threw the last of his third cookie into his mouth and chewed noisily before brushing the crumbs from his lap and side glancing at her. She could see the questioning behind his eyes already, the hesitation to discuss what was bound to be a sore subject.

“OK.” He grunted.

“What did he tell you about where I was?” She wanted to know. They’d touched on it before, briefly and on a need-to-know basis.

“He didn’t. S’a long story.” He mumbled, falling quiet and instilling a heavy guilt in Jess. For at least two minutes, he fiddled with the radio in his lap.

“I’m sorry” She eventually managed. “I shouldn’t have asked; I don’t want to drag up bad memories for you.”

“Nah, s’ok.” He said sincerely with a small glance in her direction. Hesitating, it dawned on him that he did want to tell her what happened and that, alone, was a breakthrough in itself. Daryl wasn’t a talker, he never discussed his innermost thoughts and feelings with anyone, but in the time that he’d known Jess, it was becoming easier and more desirable to do so. “I ain’t talked about to nobody before. But I’ll tell you. If ya wanna know”

Feeling as thought a compromise was needed so as not to drag him too far from his slowly expanding comfort zone, Jess decided to offer him a simpler suggestion.

“Give me the short version and maybe some other time you can tell me everything. Only if you want.” She proposed.

Seemingly content with meeting her halfway, Daryl slid further down in his seat and propped one leg up on the window ledge in front of them. As he spoke, he picked at the messy stitching around the repaired hole in the knee of his pants leg.

“After the crazy sommbitch cut his own hand off to escape that roof in the city n’ you saved his ass, he got mixed up with this psycho. Started workin’ for him. This guy, he wanted to kill us all, take the prison we were livin’ in.” Checking she was still with him, he peeped to his side at her, she was listening, now turned towards him and slowly chewing on another cookie. “Merle… he sacrificed himself in the end. Knew his time was up. Michonne was with him, he asked her to give me a message when she saw me. I went straight to find him, bring him back. But he was already turned.”

“I’m so sorry, Daryl. That must have been so hard.” She whispered sincerely “What was the message?”

Daryl looked out at the misty and still night beyond the tower. From where they were, the horrors below were obscured, masked by a serenity that was often taken for granted. But these moments were Daryl’s moments of peace and they were becoming more frequent because of the dark-haired girl beside him. She was becoming his haven away from the misery. He trusted her to ground him, to distract him and to remind him that not everything was lost.

“Said ya was holed up in an apartment opposite a bookstore in the city. That you was doin’ OK n’ that he didn’t tell me ‘cause ya asked him not to and he owed ya.” He explained, catching her small smile as she studied him when he spoke. “And…”

“…and?” she echoed.

He hadn’t meant to let the conjunction slip out. In fact, he’d intended to scrap it altogether, thus getting himself out of revealing everything else that Merle had said. But it was done and if he backtracked, he would be lying and that was one thing he never wanted to do to her.

“He uh-he didn’t know what he was talkin’ ‘bout. It don’t matter.” He tried to dismiss.

Jess’s interest was well and truly hooked by the last, little word on the end of his sentence and she was not about to let it slide without any inclination as to what he was referring to. She had some opinions about Merle of her own and so, concluded that the best way to get Daryl to continue talking, was to be honest herself.

“It does. It does matter. Your brother wasn’t as bad as everyone made out. I saw who he was. He was rude and sexist and racist and he stank of whiskey like, all the time but he was brave and he knew what it was to be loyal. I didn’t expect to, but I respected him and I know now that he respected me in the end, because he didn’t tell you where I was until he was sure he was going to die.”

He briefly looked round at her at her and she heard him sigh. She could tell he wasn’t comfortable with confessing whatever else Merle has said and decided that if her attempt turned up nothing, she didn’t want to push him to anger.

Daryl wasn’t sure if he could endure yet another conversation that left him feeling vulnerable and exposed, it seemed to be what they did now, spent time alone and toed the line together. Although, quite what line Jess was nearing, he only wished he knew. A part of him wanted to tell her the truth and in the back of his mind, he could hear his brother.

‘Don’t be no sissy.’

“He wanted me to know he thought you’d make a good Dixon” He told her.

“Really?” Jess asked in a tone that told him she was a little surprised. “Seeing as I have you as an example of the better half of the Dixon’s I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Don’t know ‘bout that.” He mused with a shy huff “… he um, he also said somethin’ else. But I don’t wanna make ya uncomfortable or nothin’.”

Jess’s eyebrows shot up and a look of captivation swept across her face, her lips curled into a grin as she searched her memories for any clues as to what he could possibly mean.

“You can’t say that and not tell me. C’mon, pleeeease?” She pleaded with a giggle and having to stop herself from gripping his arm and playfully shaking it.

She was too much. Too much to say no to. Her laugh and the sparkle in her eyes made it impossible. He was going to have to give in, he had no choice. His hands furiously picked at the threading on his pants and he was altogether very aware of it, forcing himself to sit still and summon the courage to tell Jess what she was waiting to hear as she leaned towards him across the arms of their chairs.

“Said that everybody knows that you’re my girl n’ I’d be a damn fool not to find ya n’…tell ya that.”

“Oh” Jess breathed quietly, setting back into her seat and blinking away the surprise. “I see.”

“Like I said, he didn’t know what he was talkin’ ‘bout.” Daryl added in the hope that it would do something to help filter the awkwardness from the air.

“That asshole wanted us to squirm with embarrassment even after his death. Very Merle.” Jess chuckled to herself. “Well, ‘your girl’, huh? I should be so lucky.” She mused, slowly turning her head to check his reaction. In the low light, she could just about make out the darkened top of his ear peeking through the gap in his hair. She’d made him blush.

“Are you…blushing?” She grinned.

“What? No.” Daryl huffed awkwardly.

Feeling triumphant and noting it down as more than one occasion that she’d successfully managed to turn those ears pink and witness the slight tint to his cheeks, Jess felt a surge of self-assuredness rush through her. Now, she had the control.

“I did I get the ever-stoic, badass that is Daryl Dixon to blush. Oh, that’s right…again?!” She giggled, nudging his elbow with her own and almost dying at the sight of him hiding a smile and flat refusing to let her have the glory.

“Stop. and ain’t nothin’ lucky ‘bout that.” He scoffed.

Jess tutted and rolled her eyes, releasing a very deliberate sigh and crossing her arms over her body, allowing the empty cookies wrapper to fall to the floor. She didn’t even bother to stop and analyze just how honest she should be, Daryl was going to hear what she really thought, and that was that.

“What are you talking about, you idiot?” She questioned “You’re a catch.”

Daryl side-eyed her, wishing he could find the words to ask her to elaborate, or drag more out of her about what she really thought of him. Hearing that she thought he had something to offer had almost knocked him for six and all coherent thought was suddenly dispelled in his mind like pins at the end of bowling lane.

“Huh. Yeah. Whatever.” He mumbled.

Jess was getting used to risk-taking around Daryl. Most of them had paid off and gifted her with something more than the minimal, closed-off person he presented to everyone else. She’d even managed to get herself some physical contact in the form of a hug and would not be forgetting being able to touch his arm or hold his hand in a hurry. With that in mind, she dived in again, risking placing her hand on his forearm and was pleased when he showed no interest in moving away.

Daryl slowly dragged his eyes down to where her hand rested, then he met her gaze briefly and rendered her completely speechless when he shifted his arm back, catching her fingers in his and threading them together.

“Thanks” He whispered to her.

“What for?”

“I dunno why…but you see somethin’ good in me.”

I wish I could be the man you deserve.

Jess slid further down in her chair, still clinging to his hand and rested her head delicately on his shoulder. If he could snuggle into her at night and fit close to her like the missing piece of her jigsaw, then she could snuggle right back. If she could have seen his face, she’d have discovered the pure astonishment on his features. His mouth dropped open and he feebly glanced about the room, unable to believe that what was happening was real. As she sat there with her hand in his and her cheek pressed against his shoulder, her eyes grew heavy and she noticed how comfortable she’d become.

“I only ever see good things in you” She sighed, closing her eyes and letting her weariness take over.

Daryl knew he didn’t need to respond when her head became heavy on his shoulder and her breathing slowed. He certainly hoped that his tower shifts were similar to this every time he volunteered and that he would see more occasions where he would be able to sit with her hand in his and her sleeping form against him and just…be.

 *

Her eyes opened one first, then the other, weighed down by fatigue. It was dark all around her and her neck was stiff. She scrunched her face up, rubbing her fingers over her tired eyes and groaning. Daryl moved to the side and Jess, having completely forgotten where she was, jumped and scraped her chair along the floor while he watched her, tickled by her lack of awareness. She’d been asleep for around an hour, softly breathing against his arm and he’d struggled with the desire to lift his arm and position her underneath, against his chest and in a motionless embrace. But he’d stayed put and exulted in her being nearer to him than any other woman had managed in the past.

He reached out in an echo of when she’d woken beside him in his room and gently brushed at the corner of her mouth with his thumb.

“Droolin’ again.” He chuckled

When it all hit her, where she’d been sleeping, his mocking of her involuntary saliva escape and the delightfully entertained look on his face, she shoved at his arm and covered her bright red face by pulling her hood down to obscure her cheeks.

“Oh my god, don’t be a dick!” She complained

He laughed without reservation, a genuine, unashamed laugh that she had rarely heard without some kind of barrier or means of obscuring it.

“Like a bloodhound” He remarked with a quick flicker of his eyes to his damp shoulder.

“Shut up!” She gasped “Don’t be mean. I was comfortable.” She crossed her arms and pouted at him from beneath her hood. “Shouldn’t have such a comfy shoulder.”

“So, it’s my fault, now?” He asked.

“Yes” She confirmed with an unsure glance in his direction.

You held my hand. I wasn’t exactly going to move away.

“I’ll ask Judith if ya can borrow a pacifier next time” he smirked.

“Enjoy making fun of me while it lasts because I won’t be falling asleep on you anymore.” She muttered to herself while standing up and straightening her clothing, readying herself for the climb down the ladder to the street below. While it was all very light-hearted, she needed to leave the situation and try and erase the memory of Daryl seeing her drool like a baby as she slept.

“Shame.”

She thought she heard it but she couldn’t be certain. It was uttered almost as quietly as his breathing. It wasn’t clear, but it was definitely something. She wondered if her ears were playing tricks on her or her tired mind was making things up. She caught his eye and noted a hint of shyness in him as he nudged his head up at her in a wordless goodbye. Her stomach fluttered furiously because that’s what he did to her now. He gave her butterflies like a girl with a crush. Except it wasn’t just a crush and as the days passed, those butterflies were growing in size, just like her affection for him.

*

Jess was sitting on the Ferris Wheel upon returning to the fairground. Now out of use and locked in place, she was able to climb up to the top car and sway with the breeze while watching the stars and doodling the outline of her family crest on the front cover of her journal. It was rare she wrote in it anymore, she had Aaron and Eric who bore the brunt of much of her venting. But the heavy nature of the secret she carried with her was steering her back to journaling. Only, she hadn’t quite made it past the front cover yet.

“…And I'll use you as a focal point, so I don't lose sight of what I want…”

She sang quietly, absent-mindedly working her way through the song, grateful that her secluded location meant that she could sometimes sing as loud as she wanted to without fear of judgement. The only audience being the odd Walker, who she would quickly put down with a well-aimed arrow before it had time to cross the trap-ridden area in front of the fence.

“…and I've moved further than I thought I could, but I missed you more than I thought I would”

She tilted her head at the sketch of the crest, she wasn’t the most proficient of artists but was pleased with her efforts and made a mental note to attempt more drawing in the future. It was a break from carving arrows, training, stabbing Walkers and hunting that she needed. Something different to try.

A red streak in the sky caught her attention and she slowly moved the journal and pencil from her lap. She’d just missed it, but it looked like a flare. She waited, straining her ears to listen and squinting at the tower, which could just about be seen through the trees from where she was. The pop-popping of gunfire made her nervous and then, another flare went off in the sky above, closer and clearer this time.

“Oh shit, not again!” she cried before scrambling down the metal structure and racing to the fairgrounds gate.

*

The scene at Alexandria was more brutal and distressing than she could have ever imagined. With the gate wide open and blood smeared across the asphalt, screams could be heard coming from just about every corner of the town and as Jess crept in through the shadows with her machete equipped and her mask and hood up, her heart beat a solid rhythm in her chest. Her hands trembled but adrenaline was forcing her forwards, putting one foot in front of the other until she halted, whirling to one side and seeing a bloodied woman sprinting across the street towards her. The sound coming from her mouth was garbled yet utterly desperate and her blonde hair was smattered with red from a gaping head wound that reached from above her ear to her collar bone. Following closely behind her, was a burly man with a large knife and a bald head. His face was obscured by a bandana, much like Jess’s and as he barreled along, grasping for the woman’s arm, Jess stepped out from the blackness and ran.

Human bone is incredibly sturdy. It is stronger than steel and concrete of the same mass. The human skull encases the most important organ of the human body, the brain, and has evolved to be as strong as possible to withstand trauma. Strong enough, in fact, that a recently sharpened machete alone is unlikely to penetrate such strong, non-decaying bone with one hit, a fact that Jess was already aware of. Months of reading had paid off and in the slow-motion seconds of her swinging her blade at the bald cranium of the man pursuing the injured Alexandrian, she had the foresight to think of her secondary weapon; the knife that Daryl had given her. The clunk of the metal against his head was so sickening her stomach clenched and her jaw locked shut. The side of the man’s head exploded with blood from the baseball-like swing that collided the blade with the assailant. It peppered her mask and eyes with crimson dots and created a sprawling firework in the air. When she stepped back and watched him stumble, ignoring the loud and gruesome shing from metal scraping on bone as she retracted her machete, she slid her hunting knife from its sheath on her belt and drove it, with all her might into his ribs. He gripped her wrists, terror filling his panicked eyes when his knees hit the ground.

From behind her, Jess could hear the woman’s piercing screams and she quickly turned on her heels, flicking blood from the wound in the man’s side across the surface of the road. He glugged and wheezed and Jess paid him no mind while she focused on the severely hurt woman peering up at her from the floor, where Jess had flung her when she stepped to her aid. Grabbing her arm, Jess began dragging her up to the sidewalk, all the while trying to hush her inconsolable crying and whimpering. Finding a dark spot under a platform and against the perimeter wall, she propped the woman up, ripped her jacket from her shaking shoulders and set to tying it around her wounded head. She’d lost so much blood her entire right side was a deep red and it was pooling under her, dripping from her elbow. Jess snatched the woman’s hand up and placed it on the jacket.

“Hold it. Put pressure on it to stem the bleeding.” She whispered to her with a quick glance over her shoulders. Other people were dashing past, some holding weapons up and wearing similar clothing to the man Jess had attacked. Others, she recognized to be the occupants of Alexandria. Gunfire crackled around her and she could only hope that she was far enough from the road to avoid being shot intentionally or caught in the crossfire. “What the hell is going on?” She asked the woman. Then, it dawned on her. The party. She was from the party and was the unfortunate recipient of Jess’s unwanted cannibal information. Her eyes flickered in a dazed state and her skin was paling fast. Jess shook her shoulder gently. “Hey! Stay awake! What happened here?” She demanded

“The-they came out of….out of nowhere. Started…started…hacking p-people to death” She stammered breathlessly. Jess felt an insatiable fury rise in her entire body.

The group from the city. The group from the woods. The man that shot Daryl.

The woman’s hand slapped around Jess’s wrist, snapping her from her realization and she suddenly leaned forwards, inches from Jess’s face. Her eyes bulged and saliva and blood trickled down her lips.

“Leave-L-leave this place. Not…safe…for-for women. They…they t-take women. M-my children…m-my family…they’re gone…they r-ran.”

It was as plain as day but it didn’t make it any easier for Jess to accept that the gravely injured woman before her was dying from blood loss and likely wouldn’t last another few minutes, let alone long enough for Jess to head off and find her family for her. Swallowing hard, she looked into her tear-filled eyes, held onto her free hand and squeezed it, hard.

“Everything is going to be okay.” She whispered, ignoring the blurry despair that was brimming in her own eyes. “Everyone is going to be fine. Your children, they’re in the church” She lied “They’re there. They’re all there. I saw them go in when I got here. It’s okay…it’s-it’s okay.”

In a display of relief, the woman sighed before eyes began to flutter closed and Jess felt all hope abandon her when her body went limp, her hand went lax and her face froze. Tears erupted from Jess’s eyes and a loud sob forced its way up from the depths of her soul.

“Oh…Fuck” She gasped, sagging forwards and clutching the lifeless fingers of the dead woman to her chest. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t fast enough.” She sniffed to the chorus of chaos transpiring from behind her.

As was customary and necessary in the apocalypse, Damaging the spinal cord or the brain enough to avoid reanimation was the next step in a death that didn’t involve one or the other to begin with and now, Jess had to commit an act of mercy to stop the woman from becoming a Walker. She held up her knife and chose not to think too much, it was the way of the world now.

 *

Keeping to the shadows was her forte and it had served her well during her time alone. Jess considered herself lucky that it was the middle of the night and therefore, she was able to move from house to house in search of anyone that may have needed rescuing. From the bedroom of an empty house, she spotted a man being cornered by two strangers with exceptionally large blades. Just out of sight under a tree, she couldn’t make out who the man was, but she didn’t need to know. She slid the window up, climbed out onto the roof and equipped her bow, nocking an arrow and steadying her erratic breathing.

The first arrow was aimed well enough to eliminate one of the men, but the second fell just short, scattering across the road surface and giving away her location. The remaining man’s vision shot up to her, locking her in his sights as he pointed and bellowed at the top of his lungs. Jess stumbled backwards, her back hitting the gables of the house in time to see Aaron run out from behind the tree, pick up the arrow and slam it into the side of the man’s neck. She held her breath for a second while she gawped at Aaron, who quickly began grappling with the arm of the man which held onto his blade.

“I-I have to get down there” She said to herself.

Spinning around, she clambered back through the window and thundered down the stairs, spilling out onto the street in time to see Aaron with the man in a head lock and dragging the knife across his throat. Blood fountained from the wound and Aaron quickly threw him to one side and ran to Jess, dragging her to the side of the house and flinging his arms around her while rambling incomprehensible words over her shoulder. His embrace was so tight that Jess struggled to breathe and had to physically step away to break the hug.

“That was…violent.” She commented.

“Yeah…I know” Aaron panted, blinking in disbelief at the gargling man behind him on the ground. “Are you okay? You can’t be here. I don’t know who these people are but they’re trying to round up the females and kill the men. A lot of people are already dead. You-you have to leave. Now. Rick’s group, they’re working their way around the town. You should go. Please, Jess. Go.” He blathered, grabbing her arm. Jess tore away from him.

“No.” She announced defiantly. “Where is Daryl?”

“Uh…He-he was in the tower at first. The last time I saw him, he was with Rick.” Aaron replied with a wipe of his forehead.

“Eric is safe?” Jess asked

“Yes. I can’t say where. In case they can hear us.”

“Carl? Judith? Enid?” She continued.

“All safe.”

“Lord.” Jess puffed in relief. “C’mon, we have work to do. Stay with me”

Before Aaron could protest, she flung him against the side of the house and was inching her way to the edge, unsheathing her knife again. She spat on the blade and dragged the flat edge across her thigh, revealing it’s reflective surface. It was a trick she’d learned in the city to enable her to check around corners for Walkers. It was also a tried and tested military technique to use small mirrors and reflections for such a task and she was sure that if her brother was watching over her from somewhere, he’d have been proud of her, not only for doing what she had to do, but for having the intelligence to educate herself before running into battle.

The glint of the knife provided her with a tiny, but accurate view down the street towards Aaron's house, where she could see two of the enemy group enter the house. She retreated and pressed her back against the house, next to Aaron.

“Your house.” She whispered “The door is open.”

Aaron's head thudded back against the surface behind him and he squeezed his eyes shut. “Shit” He hissed.

“Eric?” She asked.

“I told him to hide. He’s not a fighter.”

“Did you close the door when you left?”

“Yes”

“Then the chances are, he’s already gone. I’ll check the house.” She decided, moving back towards the corner of the house and gripping her machete.

“I’ll go with you.” Aaron told her quietly. She spun around, pushing him back, in no uncertain terms telling him that he would be doing no such thing.

“I got this. I want you to go and find Daryl for me” She expressed with her hand on his chest.

“I’m not leaving you” He argued.

“Yes, you are.” She gripped the front of his clothing in her fist and shoved him against the house with a thud. “Listen to me” She growled. “I’ll be damned if I lose the man I love again. So, you are going to find him for me. We both know I’m not a perfect fighter but I’m better than you and I can do this. What I can’t do, is live without Daryl in my life. So, go and fucking find him, Aaron or so help me god I will tear down every single one of those licence plates you’ve collected and lovingly attached the wall in the hallway and toss them on a fire while I dance around it singing Kum ba yah!”

Aaron blinked at her in shock but did not for one second take her for a fool. He knew that she was not only deadly serious, but that she was right; She wasn’t as proficient against humans as she needed to be, but he wasn’t as capable a fighter as her. Conceding, much to his worry and trepidation, he gripped her arm.

“Alright, you get my man and I’ll get yours.” He stated.

Jess nodded and went to turn back to the corner, before pausing and looking slightly confused.

“Wait…then we’re swapping back, right?” She asked, a slight smile tugging at her lips. Aaron sniggered and pat her shoulder before dashing off in the other direction, taking the route around the back of the houses in order to stay out of sight.

All around her, gunfire still rang out but the screams were dying down. Bodies littered the street and it wouldn’t be long before they reanimated. They needed to push the invading group back and do a sweep of the bodies with their brains still intact. But first, they needed to kill as many of the violent and ruthless men as possible.

 Aaron and Eric’s place appeared to be empty when Jess gradually inched in through the already open front door. Inside was dim, the only light pouring through the windows from a floodlight on the main gate. She checked the shapes in the dark, ticking them off in her mind, each one recognized as a piece of furniture or a blanket or cushion. The house was eerily still and compared to the commotion going on outside, it unsettled Jess’s nerves and caused her to clutch the handle of her blade even tighter than usual. She could hear her heart pounding in her head and she suppressed a shiver as she reached the kitchen. So far, so good.

The hands seemed to come out of nowhere, morphed from the blackness like creatures of the night, grabbing and manipulating her limbs. Gruff laughter and putrid breath licked at her neck and the side of her face as she was jostled across the room. Her blade was ripped from her hand and all that remained at her disposal was her knife, obscured by her sleeve and held out of sight by her fingers curled up to her wrist.

The room flashed before her when she was twisted around and slammed onto the kitchen counter, her head bouncing from the hard surface. For a few seconds, everything blurred and her hearing dropped out before coming back and presenting her with the sinister laughter of the shadows around her. The air left her body, her lungs strained and her stomach contracted. Her throat gasped. Black figures hovered above her, grappling at her clothing to a tune of gruff and sneering laughter. Jess felt a sharp sensation at her throat, long and lethal. She dropped the knife from her sleeve into her hand and hit out with the sharp end of an uppercut, topped by the hunting knife but coming into contact with nothing but air. A mocking voice commented that she was bound to be a lot of fun before they killed her and that they couldn’t let ‘the boss’ know about this one. She could sense that there were two men holding her down, taking her only weapon and pinning her arms to the table. She thrashed and bucked and tried to scream but was soon hushed by the rancid breath of one of the men, leaning close to her face and telling her that if she made a sound, they would gut her like a fish. Her legs were forced apart and she could hear a belt buckle being undone.

No! She thought No, No, No! Please, No!

The back of her head felt wet and began to bleed from the blunt force trauma. Her inner thighs thrummed with agony as one of the men held onto her flesh so tightly, she thought he might tear her skin from her bones. Dread twisted in her gut and she thought she might throw up when the pressure on her thighs released and the sharpness against her neck vanished. Her sheer horror was making everything a little difficult to make out and she rolled onto her side, coughing and reaching up to her head, wincing at the pain.

Daryl hardly ever missed a shot and was glad of his proficiency with a crossbow when he managed to kill one of the men holding jess down with one shot, straight through his temple. The other one looked up in shock as Daryl tossed the bow onto the kitchen counter and ran at him, bulldozing him from the table and landing on top of him. He ripped the weapon from his hand, which he quickly noticed to be Jess’s own Machete and began hacking at him, over and over, growling loudly and driving the weapon down and flinging it up again, all the while fueled by the image of seeing her restrained and about to be hurt in one of the worst possible ways. He didn’t stop, pummeling the brain matter into the flooring, each blow representing only a small fragment of his pure rage.

Jess climbed down from the table and dragged herself into the safety of the corner, pressing her back to a cupboard and hugging her knees as she watched Daryl hack the man into tiny pieces in the light from the window. The metallic odor of murder filled the air and she flinched with every brutal chopping sound until eventually, he stopped and sat back on his knees, panting wildly and tilting his head back to the ceiling.

It felt like hours but it was mere seconds before Daryl got to his feet and turned to face her. She knew it was him, knew he would never hurt her but in that moment, he looked utterly chilling. He charged out of the kitchen, to the living room where he checked from the window on the state of the town. People were re-grouping in the street. Rick, Glenn. Carol, Maggie and Michonne were all in the middle of the road and all in one piece. On his way back to Jess, he slammed the front door closed and adopted a calmer and slower demeanor with her. He pulled a flashlight from his pocket, clicked it on and placed it on the counter, shining the beam to the ceiling so it wasn’t too harsh but he needed to see her face. Like a frightened animal, she peered up at him with blood running down the side of her head. His chest tightened in sorrow at the state of her and he pushed away the urge to lunge at her and wrap her in his arms, knowing it would scare her even more. Slowly, he leaned down to her and offered her his hand. He said nothing, hoping that she could see in his eyes that his number one priority was her and her safety. But she just crawled further into the corner.

“Jess, it’s alright.” He soothed, lowering himself to his knees “Ya safe. I got ya.”

She stared down at his blood-soaked hand and felt something rising inside her. It was distress. It released from her chest in a loud exhalation and tears started to soak down her cheeks. She gingerly reached out and touched his hand, he bit down on his lip at the sensation of her shaking violently. She wrapped her fingers around his and gradually, he felt her hold on tighter and tighter until he was pulling her onto his lap and enveloping her in his arms. He listened to her gentle sobs and with each sniff, another piece of him fell away. He hated her being hurt and wished he could take it all away.

“You good?” He asked, tenderly stroking the uninjured side of her head. She nodded and began to shift from his lap, staggering to her feet and holding onto the countertop. He got up, grabbed his crossbow and dragged his hand across his eyes, clearing some of the blood from his vision and lifting the bottom of his shirt to wipe his face.

“Uh… I…” Jess tried to say. She pushed her fingers into her hair, feeling a lump forming at the back and a gash at the side. It was wet and sticky with blood. When she started to run thought exactly what had happened in her mind, Daryl could only watch her helplessly as she paced about, her eyes scanning the wooden floor under her boots. She quickly refastened the button on her camo pants and smoothed her hands over her painful thighs. “…Um. I think- I…” she stops and stared at him with tears still forming in her eyes. “…I think I almost got...They were going to…”

Daryl was totally perplexed when she burst into fits of laughter. Squeezing her eyes shut and entering into hysterics, using the countertop for stability. Baffled by her behavior but glad she seemed to have let go of her fear, eventually, he started to smile along with her but was still deeply concerned.

“They almost fucking killed me!” She cried “They almost raped and killed me. I can’t believe it! Holy crap!”

The more she looked at him and his confused expression, the more her laughter waned until finally, she stood in front of him breathing heavily and glaring at him with a strange kind of intensity that Daryl could not place.

“You saved my life. Again.” She uttered.

She closed the gap between them, crossing the wooden flooring as if she was on a mission. She stopped inches from him, placed both of her hands on either side of his face, and kissed him. Without warning. Without permission. Without even deciding to do it or ruminating the consequences. He’d held her life in his hands and he still did and she needed it. She needed him simply because her whole being was so thankful, so unashamedly appreciative of his very existence that she couldn’t have done anything else. When her lips met his, she was alive again.

Daryl was hopelessly unprepared and caught off guard and he was certain that every single muscle he possessed locked into a tight knot. He stood there, immobile and wondered how, for so many months, he’d spent time admiring her and studying every part of her face and lips and yet still, did not see this coming. His mind was screaming at him to react in a mixture of his own voice and that of his brothers.

This is what you’ve wanted for so long. Kiss her back.

She tore away from him, stumbling back and covering her mouth with her hand, her eyes were wide with panic and he could see her fingers quivering in front of her lips. His own were parted and tingling from the soft sensation of her kiss, now lingering like a reminder of his own inaction. He peered cluelessly at her through his wet, bloody hair.

“Shit” she breathed “Oh shit.”

She whirled around, running for the door like it was an Olympic sprint and was gone from the house before Daryl could even blink. He released a strained breath and leaned back against the kitchen table, gripping the edge either side of him with knuckles turning white. His head lowered and he closed his eyes.

I guess this is where everything changes.

*

Had she stayed in Alexandria that night, she would have discovered that the group responsible for multiple murders in the town was indeed the same one from the city and the woods and it was apparent that their spotters had followed Rick's group back from a recent search. Biding their time, they’d waited until the gate guard was distracted and taken their chance, filtering into the community in the darkened corners of the streets and taking out the guards as quietly as possible.

Deanna was notified with enough time to usher the vulnerable into her attic and wait for what she hoped would not be the downfall of her dream.

But Jess fled from Aaron’s house like a bat out of hell, darting across the street and past the exhausted and re-grouping crowd, which contained Aaron and Eric, who exchanged a worried glance after seeing Daryl race in through their open front door in search of Jess. Eric started forwards with the intention of following her, but was stopped by Aaron taking his hand and slowly shaking his head.

Whatever happened, she needs to be alone.

Daryl emerged sometime after Jess with his crossbow on his back and holding onto her machete and knife. He trudged towards the waiting stares of Rick’s group, who were all in various states, but none of which were as stained red by blood as him. Carol ran out from the middle, skidding to a stop in front of him and gasping at the state of him. Asking if it was his blood, he solemnly shook his head, looked up at Aaron and Eric and told them not to go into the house until he’d been able to remove the bodies.

 Jess used water from her tank at the large sink in the diner’s kitchen. She stripped down to her bare skin and scrubbed until she was red raw, shivering and trying to wash off the dirt and the blood and the terror and the sadness. Her mind kept flicking back to being held down to the table and her thighs ached from the hand-shaped bruises forming.

Her own morality wasn’t something she dwelled on too much anymore. In her reasoning, she was a survivor, until she wasn’t anymore and that was no less certain even before the world died. But Daryl saving her life had shoved her, staring into the void of her own demise, forcing her to acknowledge that had he not been there in time, ultimately, it was the end for her. Being taken away and used or being killed there and then, it hadn’t mattered to her because there simply was no difference, both meant it was over and it was a thought that stabbed pure fear into every inch of her being.

Jess had come to the conclusion since the turn that everyone had a monster inside them in some way or another. That most people's monsters lay dormant, in a constant state of disuse because they were brought up a certain way, because they’re not wired that way or because they’ve been conditioned, in some way shape or form, to control them. Others, dance with their monsters and feed them and nourish them on their path to immorality, prison or hell. But those that become nothing but monsters at the end of the world were a new type of depravity to Jess. Those that chose to take that path, instead of surviving in the best way possible and retaining their humanity.

The violence she’d witnessed from Daryl had been like watching a horror movie on a screen, only the noise was real and she could smell the blood and the chopped up, mutilated remains would undoubtedly be an image that she would never forget. But she understood that the difference between Daryl and the men that charged Alexandria for a murder spree, was their monsters and now she’d seen with her own eyes just how vicious Daryl’s was. But he’d made a choice to be on the right path, using death only to protect and prevent, contrary to the men he’d killed.

 Wandering out to the wooden seats that still remained at the front of the diner from its days of use. She drew a thick blanket around her shoulders, covering her Star Wars hoodie and sweatpants. She quietly slid onto the seat and brought her legs up, crossing them underneath and studied the long grass between the rides as it swayed in the wind. The ringing of the bell on the gate tinkled through the metal structures and she leaned to one side, squinting and spotting Daryl with his body pressed against the gate and his fingers laced through the fencing.

Wearily and with a certain degree of frustration, she hauled herself up from the bench and padded to the gate, stopping in front of it and not even bothering to tell him that she wasn’t about to let him in.

Don’t mention the kiss. Please, Daryl.

Daryl got the message as soon as he saw her face. His clothing was still crimson in color but his skin had been cleaned enough to make him look human again. His hair was matted and his face was tired, his filthy fingers clung to the metal fencing.

Jess approached the gate and stopped two feet away, not bothering to tell him that she was not going to let him in. But Daryl could tell he wasn’t going to be allowed any further. It was written all over her face and she was paler than he’d ever seen before.

“Needed to know you’re OK” He said quietly, his voice croaky from the sheer ferocious nature of chopping a man into multiple pieces and expelling his rage through his throat.

“I’m not OK. I just need to be left alone.” She said honestly.

“What can I do?” he asked, ignoring the latter part of her sentence and focusing on the fact that she was not, in fact, okay.

I’m not going to mention the kiss. Now ain’t the time.

“Nothing.” She whispered, running a hand through her hair and clutching the blanket at her waist.

“Ya head alright? Ya took a beatin” He observed after noticing the cut to her right temple had been cleaned up and was luckily, smaller than he’d expected.

“Sore.” She shrugged. Concussion was a very real possibility and Jess was aware of that. Her head stung and ached with pain when she’d attempted to get some sleep and so she decided that she would think her night away while sitting on the bench outside.

“You okay other than that?” He continued

Usually always delighted to be in his company, when she looked at him, she experienced a bizarre mix of emotions, among which was humiliation, but also gratitude. She needed him to leave but didn’t possess the mental energy to find the most polite way to ask.

“Daryl-”

“-Don’t you dare argue with me right now, Jess.” He interrupted firmly. The gate rattled on its hinges when his boot hit the bottom of the frame, adding an element of irritation to his warning. “I said, are ya okay, other than that?”

“Some bad bruising on my thighs. That’s it.” She sighed, noting him shift and move closer to the gate, levelling his gaze with her.

“No, uh, I meant…” he pauses “they were gonna-”

“-I know.” She cut in “I know what they were going to do. I’m ok. Really.”

She didn’t need to file through the details, didn’t need to talk about how frightened she was or how her skin felt like it had been marred even though it didn’t get that far, she also didn’t want to talk about how she’d witnessed the man she loved bludgeon someone else to a pulp. What she needed was sleep and to start moving on.

“What you saw…” he croaked “…what ya saw me do…I’d never hurt you. Don’t be scared of me, Jess. Please.”

A lump formed in her throat at the thought of him believing her to be scared of him. He was the person she trusted more than anyone else in the world and he was responsible for her still being alive and able to step forward and entwine her fingers with his through the fence.

“Remember when I told you I’d kill anyone that tried to hurt you?” She asked. Daryl only nodded at the memory. “You did the same for me tonight. I’ll never be afraid of you.” She sniffed “I adore you.”

He unlaced his hands from the fence, pushing them back through once more, over hers and held them there tightly.

“I couldn’t stop. I just…couldn’t stop. Everything went black n’ there was just me n’ him and I thought of you and what he could’a…” He explained. “…I’m here. If ya need to talk. I’m here.”

“I’m okay, Daryl. It didn’t happen. You stopped it.” She assured him

He tried to step back but he couldn’t bring himself to let go of her hands, his feet moved but he was soon against the fence again, pleading with her to just let him in, into the fairground and into her thoughts. But she was more independent than he remembered and she needed to start to process it on her own. His eyes never left her, even when a long and intense silence lasted for almost a minute and his hands only gripped hers more.

“I’m the one you tell.” He rasped. “Me.”

She rested her head against his with the fence dividing them like a physical representation of the barrier that had been cemented between them from the beginning.

“Always” She agreed.

---  Tagged as requested ---

@lilred254​ @woundmetender​

Masterlist

[ourlady-ofsorrows]

A Shot Across The Bow

(gif credit to the creators)

Part 1 - Blank Space

Masterlist

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x OFC Word Count: 1,848 Warnings: language, cigarette smoking A/N: First part to what could possibly be the best AU I’ve ever written. I’m so stoked for this story you guys have no idea. Title/song in this part is Blank Space by Taylor Swift. If you want to be tagged, let me know. Also, feedback is cool :)

Caroline’s POV

It was so unbelievably hot in my room and the fan blowing on me as I sat on my bed wasn’t helping one bit. I still couldn’t fathom why in the middle of June my parents hadn’t brought out the air conditioners yet. I tried not to worry about it as I strummed my acoustic guitar with a notebook open on my lap. I had been trying – and failing – to write a new song for the better part of three hours and not much was coming to me. I had a show that night and I wanted to perform some new material, not like it mattered. No one really came to the small bar gigs that I was doing, but hey, you’ve gotta start somewhere.

I put my guitar down, sighing as I did so. I ran my fingers through my long brown hair before throwing it into a bun on the top of my head. I decided to attempt to find something to wear in hopes that inspiration would strike. I had graduated from high school a few weeks ago and I was hoping that so much free time would be helpful for my song writing. I was very wrong. I hadn’t written a new song in months and it was beginning to stress me out. All of my friends were preparing for college and I was sitting here not getting anything done that I was planning to. I had the strong feeling that basically all of my friends leaving were what was causing my block, but I couldn’t be too sure.

I glanced at the clock and realized that I had less than an hour to get ready and be at the bar for an early sound check. I guess song writing was just going to have to wait for today. I threw on a pair of jean shorts and a tank top and called it a day. I knew I didn’t really need to fit an image when it came to these bar shows. I fixed my makeup and put my guitar in its case before heading down stairs to leave for the bar. As I was walking down the stairs I saw my brother, Rick, walk in the front door. He looked exhausted and was obviously just getting home from his late night shift. He nodded in my direction and I flashed him a small smile before running out to my car.

I opened the door to my beat up pickup truck after putting my guitar in the bed and climbed into the cab. The truck was sweltering hot and I rolled the window down before starting it up. I let the car run for a minute while I fiddled with the radio and finally put it in drive before heading over to the bar. I glanced at the clock when I pulled in and noticed I had five minutes to spare before I had to be inside. I walked into the small, dimly lit, bar and went to find the manager to check in. I went through my sound check and had about an hour or so before I had to play.

I walked back outside and climbed into the bed of my truck and sitting on the edge, lit a cigarette. The sun was just starting to set and I had a pretty good feeling about tonight. Rick said he was going to come watch me play and so did my best friend, Michonne. Just knowing that they would be in the crowd eased the mounting tension growing inside me. As I sat there smoking I was watching the people entering the bar. I was always curious about who was watching me play. I was scanning the crowd and it just seemed like the normal Thursday night bar crowd. I flicked my cigarette over the edge of my truck and lit another one. I always chain smoked before shows to help calm my nerves. It was just as I was lighting it that I saw him. He was climbing off of a motorcycle in the parking spot directly across from where I was sitting. He pushed his black sunglasses onto the top of his head and he glanced in my direction. He walked past my truck and smirked at me and I felt my breath catch in my throat. I took another drag of my cigarette to give myself something to do as I tried to figure out where I had seen him before.

If I spent any more time sitting in the back of my truck I would have missed my time slot. I threw my cigarette out and hopped down off the back of my truck before heading inside. I sat down at the bar and ordered myself a club soda with lemon and watched the band playing finish up their set. As I sipped on my drink I tried to mentally prepare a set list. Once I finished my drink I left some money on the bar and went to grab my guitar from the back room and made my way out to the stage. I stood up in front of the bar and scanned the crowd. I spotted Rick in the back by the bar with his best friend, Shane, his girlfriend, Lori. I cleared my throat and tuned my guitar and as I greeted the crowd I noticed Michonne sitting at a table off to the side. She smiled at me and I smiled back. I started playing and felt as though nothing else really mattered.

Nice to meet you, where you been? I could show you incredible things Magic, madness, heaven, sin Saw you there and I thought Oh my God, look at that face You look like my next mistake Love’s a game, wanna play?

I scanned the crowd again as I played and noticed the guy I saw outside playing a game of pool with a group of people. New money, suit and tie I can read you like a magazine Ain’t it funny, rumors fly And I know you heard about me So hey, let’s be friends I’m dying to see how this one ends Grab your passport and my hand I can make the bad guys good for a weekend

He glanced up at me and I locked eyes with him. I could tell that he was only mildly interested in my singing and turned back to continue the game of pool.

So it’s gonna be forever Or it’s gonna go down in flames You can tell me when it’s over If the high was worth the pain Got a long list of ex-lovers They’ll tell you I’m insane ‘Cause you know I love the players And you love the game

I couldn’t stop looking at him and had to force myself to glance around to the rest of the crowd. 'Cause we’re young and we’re reckless We’ll take this way too far It’ll leave you breathless Or with a nasty scar Got a long list of ex-lovers They’ll tell you I’m insane But I’ve got a blank space, baby And I’ll write your name

My eyes kept finding their way back to him though and I wasn’t even sure why. Cherry lips, crystal skies I could show you incredible things Stolen kisses, pretty lies You’re the King, baby, I’m your Queen Find out what you want Be that girl for a month Wait, the worst is yet to come, oh no

I looked back over toward him and he glanced up at me again but this time he smirked at me. I could feel my heart rate quicken and I couldn’t even begin to fathom why this random stranger was having this affect on me.

Screaming, crying, perfect storms I can make all the tables turn Rose garden filled with thorns Keep you second guessing like “Oh my God, who is she?” I get drunk on jealousy But you’ll come back each time you leave 'Cause, darling, I’m a nightmare dressed like a daydream

I had to once again force myself to look away from him and look in the general direction of anything else. I chose the spot at the bar where Rick was sitting. So it’s gonna be forever Or it’s gonna go down in flames You can tell me when it’s over If the high was worth the pain Got a long list of ex-lovers They’ll tell you I’m insane 'Cause you know I love the players And you love the game

I could feel his eyes burning into me and I chanced a look at him.

'Cause we’re young and we’re reckless We’ll take this way too far It’ll leave you breathless Or with a nasty scar Got a long list of ex-lovers They’ll tell you I’m insane But I’ve got a blank space, baby And I’ll write your name

As I glanced over at him he looked down at his drink. Boys only want love if it’s torture Don’t say I didn’t say, I didn’t warn ya Boys only want love if it’s torture Don’t say I didn’t say, I didn’t warn ya

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him and he started walking away from the pool table. So it’s gonna be forever Or it’s gonna go down in flames You can tell me when it’s over If the high was worth the pain Got a long list of ex-lovers They’ll tell you I’m insane 'Cause you know I love the players And you love the game

I followed him as he moved through the bar and ordered another drink. 'Cause we’re young and we’re reckless We’ll take this way too far It’ll leave you breathless Or with a nasty scar Got a long list of ex-lovers They’ll tell you I’m insane But I’ve got a blank space, baby And I’ll write your name

I finished my song and looked down to make sure the tuning of my guitar was correct and kept my mouth shut because I didn’t trust what could possibly come out of my mouth if I decided to speak. I played through the rest of my set and made my way off the stage and out to my truck. I placed my guitar into the bed of the truck and lit a cigarette. I leaned against my truck and tried to calm my nerves. It was starting to bother me that this random stranger was having this effect on me. I wasn’t even entirely sure what was attracting me to him so much, but sure enough as I was putting out my cigarette and going to light another one I saw him walk out of the bar with a cigarette hanging from his mouth. He lit it and then looked over in my direction. Before I could even think to say anything to him Michonne and Rick came out of the bar to, no doubt, congratulate me. Hopefully this was the signal to the end of the confusion of this night.

[twdsunshine]

Broken: Pt. 10

Summary:  Mechanic!Daryl AU.  Tabitha Dean has returned to her hometown for the first time in years, fleeing a life that isn’t quite what she thought it would be.  When her car breaks down, the mechanic who comes to her rescue is none other than Daryl Dixon, the shy, strange boy that she remembers from her school days.  But a lot has changed since then, and, when Tabby’s life catches up with her, she finds herself in need of someone to fix her broken parts.  Is Daryl up to the job?

Pairing:  Daryl Dixon x OFC

Warnings:  Language, mentions of domestic violence

Word Count:  4,626

Check out my bio for a link to my Masterlist!

*****

Daryl stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, taking a moment to brace his arms on the edge of the sink and just breathe.  His tanned skin was unusually pale, the smear of blood across his cheek, where he’d rested it against Tabby’s head as he held her, standing out in stark contrast.  The sight of it made him feel nauseous, and he swallowed hard, dipping his gaze to the water that was swirling in the basin.  With a muttered curse, he began to wash his hands, scrubbing away the traces of crimson and soaping them up twice to make sure they were clean before pulling open the cupboard below and retrieving a battered first aid kit.  It had been a long time since he’d had a use for it, but it was still his habit to keep it well-stocked, just in case.  He found he had to psych himself up to return to the living room where Tabby waited, tucked into one corner of the couch, a mess of cuts and bruises that he was sure would take less time to heal than her mind.  He couldn’t bear to see her like that, and, each time his eyes raked over her, it hit him like a punch to the gut.  He was already making plans in his head to ensure that this never happened to her ever again, no matter what it took.

Folding himself down beside her, he propped the kit on his knees, moving to brush her hair aside before stopping himself with a frown.  “S’alright if I touch ya?”  He knew he was probably asking too late, had already held her in his arms and reached out to her to offer comfort, but he also knew that the fear could come in waves, and he didn’t want to just assume that it was okay without checking in and gaining her consent.

“You don’t have to ask,” she assured him, though she swept it back over her shoulder herself, tucking the dark locks behind her ears to keep it out of the way.

He shrugged.  “I know what it’s like.  Sometimes… Sometimes ya just don’t wanna be touched after.  I remember that.  Still ain’t good with it now.”

“Neither am I,” she confessed, “except with you.  I trust you.”

He nodded, moving to gently grip her chin, angling her face so he could inspect the gash on her forehead more closely.  “Might have to stitch that.”

“I figured.  Probably this one too, huh?”  She tugged up the sleeve of her sweater, revealing a deep laceration on the inside of her forearm that he’d been unaware of before.  “Glass from a picture frame,” she explained at his questioning look.  “Threw my arm up to protect myself.  You know how it is.”

“Still glass in it,” he observed as he tugged her hand into his lap, leaning over the wound and tilting it towards the sunlight streaming in through the windows.  “Gonna need to get that out.”

“Great.”  She was gritting her teeth in anticipation of the pain, he knew, but there was little he could do to help.  In the past, he might have offered her a shot of whiskey, but he’d learned the hard way that alcohol acted as a blood thinner, and he didn’t want to risk it when she might have other injuries that she’d yet to show him.

“I’ll do it quick,” was the only promise he could make, and she sank back against the cushions with a hesitant nod, turning her head away as he pulled out a pair of tweezers and set the kit aside.  “Talk to me.”

“About what?”

“Anythin’,” he told her.  “Tell me somethin’ good.”

She thought for just a moment before asking, “Y’know what I was saying before?  About how you’re more like my dad than I realised?  Did I ever tell you about the time he taught me to ride a bike?”  He listened as he worked, probing tentatively at the tacky blood that had congealed around the cut until he could reach the small shard buried within.  Her voice was steady, her tone even, despite the fact that he knew he must be hurting her.   At the shake of his head, she went on.  “So, he did that typical thing parents do, that whole ‘I won’t let go, I swear!  Just keep pedalling!’  And I did.  I was whizzing down the street with the wind in my hair, feeling like I was flying or something.  I still remember it now.  But I was so lost in the feeling, the exhilaration, that I closed my eyes.”  She flinched, though Daryl wasn’t sure if that was at the story or because he’d begun to gingerly work the piece of glass out of her flesh.  “Hit the edge of the sidewalk like a jackass because I wasn't looking where I was going, and, of course, Dad had let go twenty yards back.  I bit it; straight over the handlebars, onto the concrete.”

“Ouch.”

“Right?  I scraped myself up good, but the worst part was all the little stones that embedded themselves in my skin.  They were really deep in there, and Dad picked me up and took me home, and then he did this.  He pulled out a pair of tweezers and started to pick them all out.  Except he asked me to sing to him as a distraction.”  At Daryl’s amused look, she pointed a finger at him.  “Don’t even think about it.”

He smirked, and it grew into a victorious smile as he finally pulled the shard free and held it up for Tabby to see.  “Got it!”

He dropped it onto the arm of the couch and twisted to rummage through his supplies, tugging out a sealed bottle of saline solution and a wad of gauze.  Tabby was watching him warily.  “Oh God, I hate this part.”

“Gotta clean ya up ‘fore I can stitch ‘em; the rest of yer cuts too.  Don’t want ‘em gettin’ infected.”  He hesitated for a moment, casting his gaze over her before clearing his throat.  “Ya got any others ya need me to take a look at?”

“Hard to tell.  Everything hurts.”

Daryl swallowed hard, his mouth going dry as he gestured towards the bottom of her sweater.  “Ya mind if I…?”

He watched as colour stained her cheeks, and she caught her lip between her teeth, seemingly caught in a silent debate with herself before she nodded.  “Yeah.  Go ahead.”

His fingers curled into the soft jersey fabric, slowly easing it up the length of her body so he could pull it carefully over her head, and he’d imagined doing exactly that, more times than he would ever admit to, but it had never looked like this in his mind.  One side of her rib cage was a mess of red and purple, and she had more bruising further south on her stomach, as if a fist or a boot had been driven into it with vicious force.  There was an angry bite mark on the swell of her left breast where it spilled over the top of her bra, and he moved without thinking, raising his hand to trail his fingertips over the indentations, receiving a sad sigh in response.

“Shit, Tab...”  His touch slipped to her ribs, and he moved his hands gently over the mottled skin, applying light pressure here and there.  “S’it hurt if I press right here?”  She hissed in pain, and he couldn't help but mirror her grimace.  “M’sorry.”

“It’s okay.”  She fixed him with a tight smile, though it did nothing to hide her discomfort.  “They’re broken, right?”

“Few of ‘em, I reckon.  I’d take ya to the emergency room, but-”

“-there’s nothing they can do.”  Another strained smirk, and she cocked her head to one side, studying him as she admitted, “I know.  Been there, done that; a couple of times, actually.  You too, I’d imagine.”

“Mmm.  Once or twice.”  He busied himself opening the solution and pouring it onto a section of gauze, ready to start cleaning her up, and, when he next looked up, her face had fallen, her mouth trembling with emotion.  “Hey…”

“Are we bad people?”  He hadn’t been expecting the question, and his gaze locked with hers, wishing he could read her mind so he might know the right thing to say to make everything better.  “I mean, I don’t know about me, but I don’t think you’re a bad guy.  I think you’re the best guy.”

“Tab-”

“What did we do to deserve this, Daryl?  What did we do to deserve any of this?”

*****

Daryl had fallen silent as he cleaned Tabby’s cuts and scrapes, working methodically, the tip of his tongue sneaking out of one corner of his mouth as he concentrated on the task.  His touch was a soothing balm to her pain, despite the sting of the salt solution as it soaked into her open wounds, because he was being so gentle with her, so kind, his callused hands soft and tender as he wiped the blood from her skin.  She wasn’t sure that anybody in her life had ever handled her with such delicate care, and she felt almost drunk on it, her discomfort numbed by his efforts to fix her, to make her better, make her whole again.  A part of her wondered if it was partially driven by the fact that he’d never had anyone there to do this for him when he’d been broken, beaten down; if it was his own abuse that had resulted in him having such a big heart, being so unselfish and loyal to a fault.  She supposed she would never know for sure, but, as he set down the gauze and reached for a disposable suture pack, she was more grateful to him than she would ever be able to put into words.

He began with the gash on her arm, and she fixed her eyes on his face, tried to focus on the furrow in his brow, the darker ring around the vivid blue of his irises, the crooked slant of his mouth and the different shades of brown and silver in his scruff, rather than the repetitive bite of the needle as it pierced her flesh.  He wasn’t conventionally handsome, she knew.  He was too rough around the edges, his gaze a little too sharp, his hair a little too long, his expression reverting to a dark scowl by default.  But when he smiled, which happened just rarely enough that it felt like a treat to see it, he took her breath away.  That sharp gaze softened and brightened, his cheeks would flush with just a slight tint of pink, and he’d duck his head, the tips of his ears peeking out from his mess of dark hair, and she’d find it impossible to tear her gaze away, captivated by him.  He was smiling at her now, though there was too much concern behind it to seem genuine, and she pulled her arm back to study his handiwork.

“Not bad.”

“Lotta practice.  S’always easier on someone else.”  He reached for another length of suture thread and nudged his chin towards her.  “S’get the other one done.  Then I can get ya some ice for them ribs.”

It proved awkward to find a comfortable position that would allow him the access he needed to the wound on her forehead, and Tabby ended up lying along the couch with her head in Daryl’s lap as he bent over her, his breath ghosting over her face.  It almost made it easier, the intimacy of the close proximity.  When the pain was almost overwhelming, she let herself get lost in his eyes, not having to search hard for the affection that resided there, only slightly masked by his worry, and, when that almost felt a little too intense, she let her gaze drift to his lips and remembered how warm they’d felt against hers, firm but yielding as he’d sated her hunger for him with devastating kisses.  She could lose hours kissing him, she’d discovered, and she had; would willingly have dragged him to her bed on many occasions, but she’d always held herself back because she’d known, somehow, that the issue of Shane wasn’t resolved.  It had felt too easy to pack a bag and slip away, too simple.  And, of course, she’d been right.

“Yer good,” Daryl announced, snipping off the last suture and wiping over the stitches one last time.  

“Thank you.”

“Can ya sit up?”  When she tried, letting out a soft cry of pain, he slipped a hand beneath her back, supporting her weight until she was sitting upright.  She twisted round so she could set her feet on the floor and turned to look at him, finding that he was watching her tentative movements with a frown.  “Y’alright?”

“Mmhmm.  I will be.”  She leaned forward as far as her ribs would allow, and he caught on to her intention, moving to meet her and cupping her face, his touch feather-light.  His lips were the same as they brushed against hers, and she knew he was afraid of causing her any more pain, though she longed to really feel him, to know that he was still there.  Their fight and the hurt that she'd caused him still felt heavy in her chest, and she knew they had more to talk about when the time was right, that she couldn’t expect too much from him before they’d figured things out, so she forced herself to pull away, reaching for her discarded sweater and untangling it, needing to keep her hands busy.  

“Need help with that?”

“I’m good.” 

“Aright then.  I’mma get ya that ice.”  He climbed to his feet and made to leave the room, calling over his shoulder, “Don’t go nowhere.”

But, honestly, Tabby thought as she tugged her sweater back on, breath catching in the back of her throat as the movement sent pain spiking through her, even if she’d had anywhere else to go, there was nowhere she’d rather be.

*****

Daryl passed the rest of the day watching over Tabby as she slept.  He’d given her the strongest painkillers he could find in his bathroom cabinet, and she’d crashed out not long after, stretched out on the couch with an ice pack on her ribs and the sun’s rays dancing over her face as it moved across the sky.  He’d dragged a wooden chair in from the small table in his kitchen, setting it up beside the TV so that he’d notice if she stirred, intending to scroll through his phone, or flick through one of the car magazines that Rick had lent him, or perhaps work on another carving, but, instead, he’d found himself just gazing at her, marvelling at the fact that this girl, this woman - so beautiful, so strong, so incredibly brave - actually seemed to like him, to think he was worthy of her time, to want to kiss him and wrap herself around him until he wasn’t sure where he ended and she began.  It was still something he struggled to wrap his head around.

On the few occasions when he managed to tear his eyes away, his focus was on the street outside his window, his senses on high alert in case Shane should appear, ready to go another round.  It wouldn’t be hard for him to track her down, Daryl knew.  He’d obviously caught on to the fact that they were friends, at least, would know his name from his overalls and where he worked.  Anyone in town would be able to point him in the right direction.  That was the problem with small towns.  There was nowhere to hide.

As the sun began to sink lower in the sky and dusk closed in, she finally woke, groaning quietly and blinking in confusion, as if she couldn’t quite work out where she was.  

“Daryl?”

“Hey, m’here.  Y’alright?  How ya feelin’?”  She was frowning at him, hissing through her teeth as she tried to sit up, and he immediately moved to crouch at her side to help her.  “Probably should’a woken ya, made ya go to bed.  Couch gets real hard if ya sleep on it long enough.”

“No, it’s… it’s okay.”  Shaking her head, as if to clear the fog of sleep from her mind, she ran her hand through her hair, grimacing as her fingers caught in the matted tangles.  “How long was I out?”

“All day, pretty much.  S’the adrenaline an’ the shock wearin’ off.  It gets ya like that sometimes.”

“All day?  Really?”  Daryl nodded, chuckling as she stifled a yawn.  “God, I’m sorry.  I’m the worst houseguest ever.”

“Nah, y’ain’t a guest.”

She arched a brow at him.  “I’m not?”

“Nah,” he said again, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, feeling his face flush a little with heat.  How was he supposed to explain, he wondered, that she didn’t feel like a guest because… because it felt like she belonged there, in his home, at his side; that she’d barely been there twelve hours, and, already, he desperately wanted her to stay.  He couldn’t.  He was partially responsible for the state she was in and, because of that, he’d relinquished any right to say those things to her, even if he had been able to find the words.  Instead, he just shrugged and muttered, “Yer just… Tab.”

“Right.”  She made to climb to her feet, wincing at the movement, and he pushed himself upright, one arm slipping around her to support her as she straightened up.  For a moment, she froze, her face screwed up against the pain, and he hated it, hated feeling so helpless, but then she shot him a small smile, her hand slipping behind him and coming to rest against his spine, fisting the fabric of his shirt.  “Thank you.”

“S’alright.  I got ya.”  He held her steady for a moment, waiting, and, when she didn’t move again, he frowned.  “Where ya goin’?”

“I- I don’t know,” she admitted.  “Just felt like I needed to stand, stretch out my joints.”

“Alright then.”  He swung round to stand in front of her, letting his hands fall to her hips as he gazed down at her, unable to contain his grin when she reached up to tuck his hair back behind his ear.  He knew it was getting too long and probably needed a cut, but, if it meant that she touched him like that, he doubted that he’d get it done any time soon.  “Ya hungry?”

“Not really.”

“Thirsty?  Ya should probably drink somethin’.”

“No, I’m okay.”  She let her head fall forward to rest against his chest, and he stepped closer to her, letting her nuzzle into him.  He could still smell the faintest trace of the perfume that she would’ve put on the evening before, but it was overwhelmed by the sickeningly metallic scent of blood, and she must have come to the same realisation as she lifted her face from where it rested against him and asked, “Could I take a shower?”

“Yeah, course.”  He hadn’t bothered to offer before, unsure if it would worsen her pain to rub shampoo into her hair and lather herself up, but he could imagine that she was feeling pretty gross and uncomfortable.  “If yer sure yer up to it?”

She nodded, and he tried not to notice that she was walking with a noticeable limp as they slowly made their way down the corridor to the bathroom, pausing while he reached into a small closet and pulled out a fresh towel for her to use.  

“S’just through here.”  Daryl led her inside, releasing his hold on her to lean into the shower cubicle and start the water running, holding a hand under the spray and adjusting the heat until it grew warm.  When he turned back around, Tabby was shuffling awkwardly on the spot, her face flushed pink, and he immediately understood why as he ran his eyes down the length of her body.  “Ya need help?”

“I’m not sure I can bend to get my boots off,” she confessed, her voice barely a whisper, “or my jeans.  I’m sorry, I should’ve thought before I asked.”

He nodded, already dropping to his knees on the hard tiles, determined not to give her time to feel embarrassed.  “S’alright.  I got it.”  His fingers fumbled for a moment with the zip of her boot, but he sucked in a breath and forced himself to concentrate, finally managing to tug it down before moving on to the other.  When they were both undone, he glanced up at her.  “Grab hold’a my shoulders.”  She did as he said, her grip biting as he lifted one of her legs and tugged one boot free, then repeated the action on the other side, finally pulling off her socks, which elicited a giggle from her and broke the tension for just a moment.  It returned tenfold when she let go of him to fiddle with the fastening of her jeans, and he tried to focus his eyes elsewhere as she popped them open.  Then she was grasping onto him again, and he took that as his cue to reach for the waistband, where it sat low on her hips, and slowly peel the denim down her shaky limbs.  He could feel the tips of his ears growing warm as he revealed the smooth, pale skin, inch by inch, but the large bruise blossoming on the outside of her thigh brought him crashing back down to earth.  “I’mma fuckin’ kill that asshole,” he muttered.

“What?”

“Nothin’.”  Tearing his attention away from the dark purple-black mark, he stripped her trousers off of her, one leg at a time, reaching up a hand to keep her steady when she was in danger of losing her balance.  He cleared his throat, trying to ignore his close proximity to her bare flesh, and peered up at her from behind the hair that had fallen across his eyes.  “Anythin’ else ya need help with?”

“Oh, no.”  She seemed a little off-kilter herself, her hands trembling as she twisted them together, her cheeks burning a deep red.  “No, I, er- I think I’ve got it from here.  Thank you.”

“I’ll leave yer bag in the room across the hall so ya can get dressed after.”

“God, I don’t even know what’s clean and what’s dirty in there,” she sighed.  “I wasn’t exactly thinkin’ straight when I packed it.  I need to go through it and-”

“It can wait.”  His tone was firm as he cut her off, taking in how tired she looked, how drained.  He was pretty sure the shower would deplete the little energy she had left, and she’d be more than ready to crash again when she was done.  “I’ll find ya somethin’ for now.”  He made to turn away, pausing for a second as her fingers fell to the hem of her sweater, trying not to think about the heart-wrenching injuries underneath.  “Ya need anythin’, just shout.”

“I will.”

*****

When Tabby had finished washing herself, her whole body ached again, yet she felt much better for sluicing away the dried blood and sweat that had clung to her skin and working the worst of the tangles out of her hair.  She wrapped the towel around her and stepped out onto the tiles, making her way out of the bathroom and into the bedroom across the hall.  It was immediately obvious that it was Daryl’s.  A small ottoman stood in one corner, the crossbow he used for hunting leaning up against it.  An assortment of shirts - half, it seemed, with the sleeves torn off - spilled from a rickety chest of drawers, and there was a bottle of cologne perched on the top, almost full, as if it had only been purchased recently.  The bed, a small double, looked like it had been freshly made, and, on top of the covers, she found a long-sleeved plaid shirt and a pair of sweatpants.  Guessing they were for her, she dressed as quickly as she could, grateful that she could slip the shirt on without having to reach up and pull it over her head, combed through her hair with her fingers and padded back out into the living room.

She found Daryl sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace, staring into the empty hearth, with his arms looped loosely around his folded knees.  He seemed lost in his thoughts, and she wished she knew exactly where he was in his head, whether she was imposing, if he was still mad that she hadn’t told him about Shane before they’d become whatever they were to each other, but then he glanced up and saw her, watching him, and his scowl morphed into a crooked smile.  “Ya look better for that.”

“I feel better for it,” she agreed, fiddling with the cuffs that dangled over her hands.  “Thank you.  And thanks for the clothes.”

“They’re too big for ya,” he observed, crawling over to her so he could roll up the legs of the pants and stop them from dragging on the ground.  “Gonna break ya neck walkin’ round like that.”

He looked up at her, and she couldn’t resist reaching out to smooth the hair back from his face, revealing the full effect of the gentle affection in his eyes.  “You’re always looking out for me.”

“Someone’s gotta.”  Climbing to his feet, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, cocking his head to one side, and she wondered what it was doing to him to see her in his shirt, his pants, because it was definitely having an effect on her that she was trying to push down.  “Ya sure ya don’t wanna eat?”

She shook her head.  “Not hungry.  Can I… I mean, can we just… hang out for a little while?  Like we would at the cabin?  I just wanna… forget for a bit.”

“Mmhmm.”  He was gnawing on his bottom lip, nodding in understanding.  “Yeah, we can do that.”

She settled herself on the couch, waiting for him to drop down beside her before leaning into him, fidgeting to find a comfortable position that would allow her to curl herself against him without putting too much pressure on any of her breaks and bruises.  When she stilled and relaxed, he let his arm fall around her, thumb stroking over the fabric that covered her hip as he clicked on the TV.  Tabby watched while he flicked through the channels, finally settling on an old black and white western, and she focused her eyes on the screen, but her mind was elsewhere.  Wrapped up in his shirt, with her head on his chest, and the lingering scent of him in the air, she felt like, with every breath she took, she was drawing more of the man beside her into her lungs, and it was a heady sensation, everything about the earthiness of him, the smokey tang, calming, reassuring.  She felt safe, she realised, despite the fact that Shane could appear at the door at any moment, having somehow sensed her contentment and needing to destroy it, to remind her that she belonged to him.  Daryl wouldn’t let him hurt her, she knew that, and it brought a sense of peace that she hadn’t been expecting to feel whilst the wounds were still so fresh.  Still, as she felt the soft brush of Daryl’s lips against the top of her head, she embraced it and settled in, wanting nothing more than to be held by him as she succumbed to her exhaustion once again.

*****

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[littlegodzilla]

Howl TWD AU Daryl Dixon x OFC 11/15

Hi!

Friday again and today I have some time, so I'm going to post the next chapter.

Merle is coming town and Daryl wants to meet him but...

Will be a good idea?

Let's find out!

Howl

Daryl Dixon x OFC.

Warnings(For the all series); AU. M, Smut, +18, hurt/comfrot, blood, violence, bad language, war plans, ABO references, Knot thing, a lot of references about werewolves mixed with my own imagination. Warnings chapter: Bad language. Fighting. Shooting. Blood. new pack.

Outside Narrator.

Words: 4900. N/A: Yes, I know, I use Woodbury a lot in my stories, but Seasons 2 and 3 are my favorites and they can’t live in a prison…. Woodbury is the closest thing… and yes, Rick and Michonne are together because I love them and I miss them a lot, sorry if someone is unhappy about this. Taglist: @phoenixblack89 @browneyes528 @pncnsc @lilythemadqueen @purple-serenity @twdeadfanfic @darylsgarden

Part 11.

Jesus enters the police station like lightning, ignoring the policemen who are present, he enters Rick's office, who is startled to see him enter with that frightened and worried face. He sits up in his chair mute asking the wolf what is going on. Jesus needs a moment to catch his breath and looks around, pointing towards the door. Shane and Andrea who have seen him appear, approach them to find out what is going on as well.

"Daryl's brother is back." He explains in a few words. "Daryl has gone to talk to him, I don't know if he'll be alone... He said to prepare for anything."

"Good, warn the others, I'll go as backup in case Merle hasn't come alone." Rick says grabbing his revolver and taking the silver bullets from the drawer.

"No, he doesn't want anyone to go up there, he'd rather we stay here protecting the town."

"Yeah, well that's not going to happen. Shane..." He looks at his childhood friend and he nods.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of alerting everyone and keeping people from leaving their homes."

"Rick, anything... Call us, you know the signal to give if you need help." Andrea asks him and the sheriff nods.

"Don't worry... And don't say anything to Michonne." He asks them as a favor, the pair look at each other, but finally nod, Michonne is about to give birth, the least they need is for the woman to stress about all that.

"I'm coming with you." Jesus says shedding his clothes and transforming into a wolf ignoring Rick's protests.

Shane and Andrea stay at the police station warning their partners that they are going to execute a mock exercise of a shootout with chases, they don't know in what state the wolves that followed Daryl's brother could appear, so it's better not to give too many explanations. The policemen's colleagues are not very happy about being warned in such a sudden way, but none of them objects. They get ready and line up listening to Shane's orders, taking and loading the guns with the bullets that Andrea is handing out to each one, they don't have too many so they have to be careful not to waste a single one. They all watch as Rick takes off with the wolf, heading into the woods, but no one says anything.

After the precinct is put on alert for a fake practice, Shane sneaks into Rick's office to call the rest who know the truth. He calls Hershel to be careful at the farm, to prepare all the deployment they have been organizing there, creating a small fort around the main house, Hershel gives notice to his family and his daughters along with Otis collect the animals in the stables and barns to avoid greater losses than necessary. Andrea takes it upon herself to call Carol, who first asks about Daryl, her companion tells her that he has gone to the cabin in search of his brother, but gives no further explanation, not that she has any either, then Carol asks about Ixeya, but Andrea doesn't know what to say to that, they know nothing about the she-wolf, Jesus has only talked about the Ranger, so she imagines that the young she-wolf has gone with him as backup, or is taking care of guarding the perimeter like the others. He knows that Carol has a special affection for the young woman and that this answer is not going to calm his concern, but she is not a helpless girl, possibly she is able to defend better than many of them, so he should not really worry. Ezekiel picks up the phone to receive Andrea's orders and thanking her for the warning, everyone in the house gets going. They don't want the younger ones to fight, but Henry is not going to stand idly by at home, they are also his people and his friends, he is going to fight like all of them.

Daryl leaves his motorcycle parked next to the cabin. As soon as he gets off he instantly senses his brother's presence at his front door. He takes a deep breath feeling the goose bumps, he would never believe he could be so sensitive to the scent of another male now that his instinct as an Alpha has fully awakened. He now has a female to protect, a pack to care for. He is blocked in his tracks when that thought floods his mind. Pack? Which pack? Is his mind accepting Jesus and his mates as a pack? He groans at the thought, shakes his head and walks hurriedly to the door of his cabin, his brother is waiting for him and he doesn't know how long his patience will hold out.

As he turns the corner of the wooden building, he sees him there, he is alone, sitting on the wooden stairs, looking nowhere, but he is sure the man has detected his presence for quite some time, he doesn't let his guard down, adjusts the crossbow on his shoulder and walks up to Merle slowly, trying not to give him reason to get defensive with him. It's been many years since they last shared a fight and he doesn't know how his brother's gifts could have developed. He has to be careful.

Merlo sees him approaching, smiles half-sideways as he senses in him the aura of Alpha enveloping him. It is complete, there is no trace of submission in him anymore, now his true presence rises with him, a pure Alpha, with Metis status. It is the greatest irony Gaia could have come up with, but he loves it. He detects another scent on him, the Omega, his smile grows wider. They've tried to hide her, he's not stupid, he knew she was there since he saw his brother's frightened gesture when they asked about her. But now the Omega has an Alpha she belongs to, taking her away is going to be more complicated and Merle feels some pity. He didn't want to kill his brother, between the two of them they could have made a much better world for their race, but their leader needs that young woman to continue with his plans and now Daryl is a hindrance.

"What are ya doing here, Merle?" the hunter asks, not quite coming over. "I thought I made it clear I ain’t wanna ya’round here."

"I know, little brother, but I wanna talk ya before we left... We've been looking for the she-wolf and haven't come across her." He lies, but he knows his brother doesn't believe him, they have detected the scent of her heat, he's not stupid enough to think they've missed it. "I wanted to propose again that ya join us."

"My answer is still no, Merle, I dunno what ya have been promised, brother, but it is clear that..."

"A seat on the Council, Daryl." He cuts him off and the younger one frowns, pursing his lips. A seat on the Council? Was he really stupid enough to believe they'd let him be there? "We are the future, we are what Gaia wants to emerge from now on, we have our chance."

"I told ya once, Gaia doesn't want shit, we're a glitch product of a fucking fluke, do ya really think our parents' lineage was pure enough to give us a Gift like that because Gaia is what she wants? Since when are ya so delusional?"

"Then why do ya think we were born this way?"

"Luck." He repeats again with weariness. "Our parents were selfish with our pack, they wanted their own cubs and we suffered the punishment; that's all."

"And ya can have yer own pack now with that Omega, Daryl, do ya really think I ain’t smell her on ya? Ya say it's luck, but ya've managed to mark her, make her accept ya as her Alpha, yer Gift is powerful, as is mine. We are the beginning of a new Age, that's why ya need us."

"Stop bullshitting, Merle, it doesn't matter who they are, the Elders, the Council, yer new friends. It doesn't matter. We will always be what we are; Metis, they are never going to accept us just because we can reproduce. Before they disowned us, they pushed us aside, what do ya think will happen when they find out we were born this way? They will not allow our curse to spread. They'll hunt us down like animals."

"I'm sorry, little brother, I thought ya of all people would understand..." He slowly approaches towards Daryl and Daryl raises his crossbow in response. "I didn't mean to go to this extreme, yer my brother, but now yer just a hindrance..." Daryl grits his teeth hard thinking about something.

"Ya wanna me to come with ya? I'll go, but leave town, they have nothing to do with this."

"That's not all this is about, Daryl, we need the Omega and ya've marked her as yers, even if ya decided to come with us and bring her with ya, she belongs only to ya now, and my boss isn't gonna like that... Ya know what I mean?"

"Yer gonna put that pack ahead of yer own brother?"

"Ain't ya doin’ the same thing? I really wish things were different, but I'd rather kill ya myself than one of the boys." He moves forward a little more and a growl comes out of his throat, Daryl smiles crookedly, mockingly.

"Thanks, that's very kind of ya." He scoffs. "Oh, fuck..." He steps back a few paces as his brother begins to assume his hybrid form in front of him. "Fuck, Merle!" he curses and raises the crossbow firing one of Ixeya's strengthened bolts.

Merle roars in pain at the impact of the bolt, his blue eyes blaze with hatred ripping the arrow from his shoulder. Daryl doesn't want to kill his brother, not if he can help it, however even though Merle's hybrid form is perfect and his mind is still conscious, anger is taking over him, in that form he has everything to lose.

He curses between his teeth when he sees his brother put his hands on the ground and pounces on him ready to attack. Reloading the crossbow takes him a few seconds he doesn't have now, he reaches into his belt for the sheath of one of his knives ready to throw it at Merle's body, but another wolf steps in the way, throwing the Metis away from the Ranger.

Daryl opens his eyes in surprise to discover that it is Jesus, by his scent he recognizes him, as the man has also adopted a hybrid form that he had not seen before. He looks around when he hears a gunshot and one of the silver bullets hits Merle's leg who howls. Rick appears through the trees firing again. Daryl feels like yelling at his friend what the hell is he doing there and how could he think of shooting at his brother, their feelings are a bit at odds, but he doesn't have time to say anything, Merle gets Jesus off his back and charges at them again. Rick shoots, knocking him back and Jesus grabs him from behind, knocking him to the ground to restrain him.

Daryl's heart rate is racing, his mind is in a fog, he needs to think of something quickly, he doesn't have time to come up with an elaborate plan, if Merle gets loose from Jesus again and lunges at Rick, he's never going to forgive him. He bites his lip and tosses the crossbow aside. Rick watches as his friend slowly approaches the two hybrids leaving their weapons by the way.

"Rick, I need ya to listen and do as I say." Daryl tells him as he moves closer towards the two wolves. He stops and looks sideways at him, his eyes glowing with a dangerous hue and his face unhinges. "I need ya to get Abraham and Aaron, get them over here."

"Daryl!?" He looks at him confused and worried.

"Run away!" He barks as his body abruptly transforms into his deformed, hybrid form. His howl is one of pain and rage.

Rick instinctively takes a couple of steps back, he hadn't seen his friend in that form yet and while it wasn't the same as Ixeya, or Jesus, it's just as terrifying. Her unbalanced appearance and lack of hair give him goosebumps. The hybrid turns to the sheriff and he tenses like a rope, roars in his direction, but lunges to Jesus' aid, Merle has broken loose again and is running straight for Rick. Daryl intervenes by hitting his brother's body hard, knocking him back several meters. Rick doesn't hesitate then, puts the gun away and grabbing the Ranger's motorcycle, he rushes away.

Daryl walks slowly towards his partner, his knuckles grazing the ground, dragging his nails lightly in the dirt. Jesus stands on guard, the Metis seems serene, not the same violence he awoke that night at the farm, but he can't let his guard down, he could become unstable at any moment. Jesus is surprised when Daryl arrives to his position and taps his head with his head, a gesture of affection and concern.

Even Daryl is surprised, he isn’t fully able to control the anger, his mind goes back and forth, but he is aware enough to realize that Jesus is an ally, he is a friend. He is part of their pack. His anger is turned on Merle, on the one who is trying to get through to the people, to his friends and most of all to his Omega. He growls through his teeth and Jesus responds. No one is going to touch his people.

A howl in the distance puts them on guard again. Merle responds to the call by backing away, putting a safe distance between them. Several of the wolves that accompanied him that day return, they are also in their hybrid form and with them they bring several weapons that are enchanted. They are fetishes that surely belong to the lineage of the Alpha who is their leader, enchanted and bound to each other to provide them with greater strength. Daryl roars once more, Jesus adopts a defensive posture, bristles the hair on his back and clenches his fists, the Metis advances a few steps to put his body as a shield. The wolves bark in acceptance of his provocation, pouncing on them.

Daryl wastes no time, he hits one of them with his arm, throwing it several meters, hitting a tree that breaks in half from the blow. Jesus jumps over the Alpha attacking another of the werewolves, snatches the bone spear in his hand, puts him against the ground and bites hard on his neck. The howl of pain cuts the air for a second, but that doesn't stop the dark furred wolf.

Two of the wolves fall on Daryl holding him to the ground, anger, his Berserker form takes over for a second biting one of them, propelling himself with his long paws, clawing at the stomach of another, blood, howls of pain, barking flood the forest in a violent fight. Merle is about to attack his brother again, but this time Aaron and Abraham appear and stop him, but they are not the only ones. Behind them Rick reappears on Daryl's motorcycle, accompanied by Shane and Carol who fire at the wolves with what little silver ammunition they have, throwing the knives they had once enchanted.

The silver won't kill them, but it hurts and stings all the same, the humans give no truce, defending their fellow werewolves they are gaining ground, pushing back the wolves badly wounded by the fight against Jesus and Daryl. A new howl is heard in the distance that the werewolves answer and they hurry away. Abraham holds Merle who tries to get away from the red-haired wolf, but the latter punches him hard in the jaw leaving him unconscious on the ground.

It seems that the fight is over, everyone wants to celebrate, but no one moves. Daryl keeps panting and grunting, his hybrid form struggling to maintain the consciousness he has maintained throughout. He gasps clenching his fists, shrinking into himself, gritting his teeth until his gums bleed. He doesn't want to hurt anyone, yet with each passing second he feels his lucidity disappearing.

"Daryl..."

He lifts his head like a spring, he would recognize that voice anywhere, in any form. He turns to look for her and sees the young woman appear among her human companions. She walks slowly towards him, her scent of the rut almost gone, but it does not go unnoticed by the Alpha, who growls in her direction, places his hands on the ground and walks slowly towards her. His size is imposing despite his stooped gait. The rest watch silently but alertly, Jesus moves close to the pair in case he must intervene, Rick loads his revolver in case he has to distract Daryl in any way.

However, none of that is necessary. When the hybrid reaches her, Ixeia caresses his long arms and they hear a plaintive moan form in the Metis' throat, slowly, his bones echoing in place, Daryl returns to his human form, regaining full control of his mind and body. He wraps his arms around the young woman letting his weight fall on her and she holds him by the waist, caressing his bare skin, letting her Gift heal his wounds, as it has done other times.

"I told ya not to move from home..." Daryl whispers against her ear.

"I wasn't going to let them hurt you Daryl, I told you, I know how to fight too." She sighs feeling her body still shaking with fear as she imagines Daryl fighting alone. "When are you going to understand that you have us here? That you aren’t alone anymore..." The hunter shudders and shakes his head.

"I'm sorry... it's hard for me..." He falls silent as his bones snap back together and the pain makes him throb.

"It's okay, I think we can go home now, you need to rest." She tells him breaking away from him a little to look at him and smiles sheepishly. Daryl nods his head. His gaze then fixes on all of his friends who are watching him with a small smile on their mouths and he feels his cheeks redden.

"Have ya guys gone crazy? how could ya even think of showing up here in commando mode?" he reprimands them vaguely remembering them shooting like crazy at the other wolves. "What part of ‘it's too dangerous’ didn't ya understand?"

"The same as you, apparently." Carol jokes and starts handing out clothes to them, Jesus, Aaron and Abraham have also returned to their human form. Merle still unconscious, also returns to human. "You gave us quite a scare when Rick told us you were taking on those wolves by yourself, with Jesus. If you thought we were going to leave you alone..."

"You certainly have the weirdest pack I've ever seen, boss." Jokes Abraham finishing dressing. They all laugh at that and Daryl again feels his stomach rumble.

His pack...

He's never expected anything like that, he's always been aware that his status as a Metis would never allow him to be able to form a real pack, completely his own and yet there it is, consisting of Lupus, humans and a Metis who happens to be an Alpha. Told like this to any other werewolf, he's sure he'd laugh and kill him for blaspheming like this about what pack unity symbolizes, but it's true. They are his pack now, it doesn't matter that they aren't just werewolves, Daryl feels that way. It is for them that he has to fight, that he has to fight for and stay a leader. He won't let anything or anyone hurt them.

Ixeia moves to his side drawing his attention once again. She is another proof that he has to stay strong. Not just for his sake, he isn’t even sure they can have a litter, but for himself as well. She is marked. She is his. If indeed Merle's leader wants her so badly he will do anything to take her, and that means killing the Alpha who has claimed her. Her power now belongs to the two of them and the litter, she will only help her people, her Alpha and her cubs, now that she belongs to a single male her power is limited, and that won't sit well with her brother's leader.

Daryl then remembers that his brother is still there, he turns to look for him discovering that Abraham is still by his side, watching in case he wakes up and has to knock him out again. Holding onto the she-wolf, he slowly walks over to the unconscious Metis and sighs biting his lower lip.

"What do you want us to do with him, boss?" Abraham asks with his arms crossed and one foot on Merle's back. Daryl sighs thoughtfully, breaks away from Ixeya and removes the jacket covering him placing it over his brother.

"I'll take care of him, it ain’t the safest place, but..." He turns to look at Rick. "Can I put him in one of yer cells? I still have unfinished business with him to settle."

"Sure, he's your brother, we'll set up a cell for you so you two can be comfortable." He accepts looking at his companions, Andrea and Shane nod without adding anything else.

"Thanks... Abraham, ya can let him go now."

"Sure, boss." He stops stepping on his back and takes a couple of steps back. Daryl rolls his eyes.

"Okay, let's get a few things straight; ya can stay here, in town, in the woods, I don't care, yer welcome whatever ya decide, but call me 'boss' again and I'll rip off that tacky mustache yer wearing." He threatens him, but there is an amused tone in his voice and the laughter rubs off on the others as Abraham raises his hands in peace.

"Whatever you say."

"Thanks, Daryl, we know it's not easy for you to do this..." Aaron murmurs.

"She trusts ya, and I trust her." He glances sidelong at the she-wolf beside him and then shrugs. "Come on, let's get back to town, we ain’t done yet."

Daryl picks up his brother carefully, slung over his shoulder, he's in no condition to carry the unconscious Metis either, but he doesn't want him to wake up and attack any of his own. They put him in the Jeep parked at the side of the cabin and drive to the police station to lock him in one of the cells. The younger cops are surprised to see them show up with the unconscious man, Shane insists that it's a practice run and that they will follow the orders he and Andrea have given them. There is doubt in their eyes, but none of them dare to really question them. Daryl carefully leaves Merle on the cell bunk and walks a few steps away sitting on the floor, his body hurts like hell, he needs to rest. Ixeia comes up to him, hugging him carefully, the wolf puts an arm around his waist and rests his cheek on his head, closing his eyes. A few seconds later he feels how her gift passes through his body, healing him little by little.

"Will you guys be okay? Do you need anything?" Rick asks looking at the couple, Daryl shakes his head, still with his eyes closed.

"Say to Jesus, Aaron and Abraham stay on their toes. They may be gone now, but they could be back at any time, we need to be prepared."

"Don't worry about that, we'll take care of things out here, try to get some rest." Shane asks them who is staring at Merle, not trusting that the man is actually unconscious.

"I'll take care of him." Smiles the she-wolf, stroking Daryl's arm. "Be careful with..."

"Rick!" Ezekiel comes running through the dungeon door scaring the others. The sheriff walks over to his friend.

"What's wrong?"

"It's Michonne... Her water broke... she's in the hospital now..." He explains haltingly, everyone looks at each other between surprised and excited, Rick even looks a little scared. "You better get over there buddy, she's pretty pissed."

"Yeah, sure, I'll be right there..."

"Go! We'll take care of it." Andrea assures him and the man doesn't hesitate to run out of the police station's dungeons followed by Ezekiel to take him to the hospital. Daryl gently taps his chin on Ixeya's head, who looks at him questioningly.

"Maybe ya should go, Michonne might need ya."

"You need me too, you've transformed and..."

"And I'm fine, I've transformed and managed to maintain consciousness, not completely, but I've managed it." He shrugs. "I need to recover, but Michonne's going through something more painful..."

"It's just childbirth, Daryl." she can't help but chuckle when she feels the wolf shrug. "She needs Rick and her family now, then I'll go see her. I have to stay with my family too." She whispers the latter more quietly, afraid to upset the man with his comment. There is a silence between them and the nervousness increases in Lupus.

"Yer family, huh?" she can feel him smirk against her head and she feels something crack inside her. He has marked her and he still seems to be treating her the same as ever.

"L... I'm sorry..."

"Ya wanna us to be a family? is that what ya expect?" He asks her without pushing her away from him, speaking against her ear, still with his head resting on hers.

"Y... You've marked me, I..."

"Is that all ya feel? Because I've marked ya."

"No! No..." She hastens to explain. "You know I...I've always felt this way about you, it's not just because of the rutting or because you marked me...It was what I wanted, but it wasn't just..."

Daryl breaks away from her to stare at her, there is a crooked smile on his mouth, he looks nervous and moved by what he has heard. He still has too many doubts in his head, but he knows she's not lying, because he knows how she felt too, not because he saw it, but because Carol and Rick have been pretty insistent about it. He's not stupid either, at least not entirely, he could smell it, but he always tried to ignore it. He sighs long kissing her on the forehead affectionately.

"Don't feel bad, pretty girl." Daryl's body tenses as he hears Merle's voice from the bunk. "It's just that he's never been able to express himself well, I think he means he loves ya too, or some such crap."

"Merle..." Daryl breaks away from the young she-wolf and gingerly stands up, holding onto the wall, his body still resentful from the fight. "Yer in no position to be funny, and ya know it."

"I'm ain’t doing anything, I think I have a right to know my sister, don't ya? After all she's yer Omega now."

"It's nothin’ to ya, why don't ya cooperate with us and tell us where yer companions are?" He advances a few steps towards him, standing in front of the she-wolf as protection in case the Metis attacks.

"Have ya started on the cubs yet? First heat always takes more practice, ya know what I mean, I hope I haven't left ya half-assed, sis." He jokes and Daryl roars banging on the bunk structure of the cell to shut him up.

"Answer me..." He growls gritting his teeth hard.

"Don't use that against me bro, it won't work for me." He growls also moving forward a few steps.

"I told ya answer me." He crashes his body into his brother's in clear threat and his eyes flash brightly, Merle doesn't shy away smiling half sideways.

"Looks like ya finally got some balls, too bad yer using yer strength against the wrong people. Ya ain’t gonna find them, they've gone looking for our leader, the Governor, if he comes all this way..."

"The Governor? Does he call himself that?" he smiles wryly. "I'm really surprised you'd be fooled by a group like that."

"Merle..." Ixeia interjects when she sees that the brothers are ready to fight again. "Why do you want to fight the Elders? If indeed your leader is of such a pure bloodline he will have no problem finding an Omega and continuing his bloodline..."

"It's not just about that, beautiful. Our people are forgetting their true purpose here, which is to fight the corruption that plagues and destroys Gaia, which weakens her and us with her. We've settled into the easy life and they're hunting us down like animals."

"Since when are you a soldier?"

"Since when are we not? You are one yourself here, you protect these people, you fight for your herd. Don't be hypocritical, our goal is the same."

"Ain’t, I have stayed off the Elders' radar, abidin’ by the laws, and no one has come to bother me, except ya... No one is at war but ya and if ya keep insistin’ on it, ya will fall. No one is gonna take yer side. No one is stupid enough to..." He falls silent as he sees the malevolent smile form on his older brother's mouth and his body shudders. "What have ya done...?"

"We have only sought out the best and strengthened our pack." He says with false innocence.

Yet Daryl suddenly feels goose bumps rise on her hair, her brother's gaze glows brightly and she can almost catch something dark, something cruel stirring inside her.

There is something else behind all this.

Something far more dangerous that even Merle seems unaware of.

To be Continued...

next chapter previous chapter

I hope you liked it!

As always sorry for my English, it isn't my first language!

See you in the next chapter!

[forever-a-night-owl]

Endings, Beginnings: Chaos (Part 1)

Fandom: The Walking Dead (TV show)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x OFC (Alex)

Rating: T? I’ve never done this before. Let a girl know!

Warnings: canon-typical violence, a touch of language, Merle Dixon, critical lack of knowledge about medical things and hospitals but here I am anyway!

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: Hi there! Posting for the first time. I wrote this years ago (terrified to say it was probably 2014-2015) and have just been sitting on it ever since. I reread it today and didn’t find any glaring mistakes. Huge shoutout to @egcdeath for encouraging me to post!

A/N 2: There is not a lot of Daryl and Merle in this part. They show up more in the next bit!

They had been waiting for the ambulance for nearly fifteen minutes when it finally flew up to the ER doors. Then there was the rush to get the two crash victims into exam rooms. Pushing, yelling, the usual organized chaos.

It was a hell of a lot worse than dispatch had let on. One of the guys probably wasn’t going to make it through the night. Kat, bless her heart, was on her fourth shift and was jerking the stretcher back into a straight line.

“Watch it,” Alex grunted over the patient’s yelps.

Kat and another nurse pushed the patient into the first exam room. Alex tried to get the less nearly dead man into exam two, but some idiot with a cucumber stuck up his ass was still on the table. She swore under her breath and backed out of the room. Exam three still had the whacked out overhead light. Exam four was free.

“He’s stable now. He was half dead when he was admitted. He’s been sleeping ever since and he needs to be left alone,” Alex explained to room 410’s brother for the third time.

“An’ I’m g’nna see ‘im anyway, m’kay, sweetheart?” he slurred, trying to push past her. 

Alex sighed. The smell of whiskey and sweat was oozing from him. “Look, Merle – it’s Merle, right? – Look, your brother is stable but he’s still weak. He’s got three broken ribs and there’s a possible hemorrhage near his liver. When we’re done with the other tests you can see him. Until then, you can wait in the waiting room or go back to the bar you clearly came from.” She stood in the doorway leading to the ICU rooms.

“Fine, Candy Stripes. Whatever ya want. I’ll be here. Waitin’.” He sat down heavily in the seat nearest the nurses’ station. “I’m real worried about my baby brother, ya know?”

Merle had been well behaved, all things considered. He finally stopped badgering Alex when a nurse, who was friendlier and less rule abiding, slipped him a spiked coffee and laughed at all his jokes. His brother, Daryl, was doing well. The hemorrhage was cleared in a quick surgery, but he was still on heavy pain medication. He was quiet. Merle was always the one to ask about Daryl’s meds if he hadn’t gotten them yet.

Daryl had been in 410 for three days when the suits first started coming in. They were from just down the road, as it were – the CDC. They flashed ID badges whenever they needed something – particularly access to rooms with “patients suffering suspicious symptoms.” That was the most information anyone could pull from them and the hospital’s medical director wasn’t talking to any staff about what they wanted – needed – to hear. So the doctors and nurses started comparing charts of patients that the CDC agents had seen. High fevers, respiratory issues. Uncommon for a Georgia summer. Other symptoms were flu-like, so the labs were mixing different cocktails of antivirals in an attempt to find some cure or respite from the illness.

Nothing was working.

People were starting to die.

=============================================================

Alex had been working the night shift ever since Daryl had been admitted. He was quiet during her shifts and somehow quieter still when the CDC suits prowled the halls. He mentioned to Alex one night that one of them had come into his room between shifts.

“Did they bother you?” Alex asked, looking up from his chart.

“Nah,” he grunted, fiddling with the monitor on his finger.

“Hey,” she gently chastised. “Leave it alone.”

Merle showed up a few minutes later and stood in the doorway, blocking Alex in. “Maybe you know why the suits are here?” he asked, leaning toward her.

“Drop it, Merle,” Daryl said from behind Alex.

“Now come on, Stripes. I saw you talkin’ to some of ‘em this morning.”

“Merle,” Daryl said again.

Merle pushed Alex into the doorframe and towered over her. “They aren’t telling us anything,” she said, fear flashing across her eyes.

“Can’t imagine why you’d have trouble gettin’ a little inside information.”

“Because it’s classified information and I am not classified,” she said carefully, sliding between Merle and the door. She could smell the bourbon on his breath and saw a vein pulsing in his neck. What the hell was he on?

“None a’ these guys owe you anything? Reciprocate for a blow after a late night?”

She straightened up. “Go to hell.”

Merle watched her go, because damn, what a piece of ass.

=============================================================

Word was that triage was a nightmare. More and more people were coming in sick and there wasn’t room for them. Alex had stayed away from the ER as much as possible and charted.

She made her rounds at seven that night. A nurse was standing outside of room 410. “What’s up?” Alex asked. The nurse looked into the room with a grimace. Alex looked in and saw Merle. “I got you. What’s he need?”

The nurse handed her a paper cup of pills. “Hydrocodone – two tabs.”

Merle was sitting by Daryl’s bed with his feet up. He was flipping through channels on the TV with the volume blaring. Daryl was dozing but still playing with the pulse ox monitor on his finger. She gently swatted his hand away and pushed her hair aside to look at the stiches on his forehead.

“Feeling any better?” she asked, passing him the pills.

“Lil’ bit, yeah. This food ain’t helpin’ any, though.”

She laughed before glancing at Merle. “Visiting hours are over – hey, still not my rule.”

Merle muttered his usual string of curses when he left; this time he also threw the remote at the foot of the bed and left the TV on. Daryl tried to reach for the remote and winced. Alex pushed him back down and took the remote. 

“On or off?”

“Off.”

Alex looked around the room before speaking again. “Is he taking your meds?”

“Nah.” He started playing with the heart monitor wires.

She stared at him for nearly a minute. “Alright,” she sighed. “Logan and Macy are on duty if you need anything.”

Daryl nodded and then shifted around the bed for a few seconds, trying to get comfortable enough to sleep. Several wires tangled and Alex moved to fix them. “’S fine,” he grumbled.

She untangled the wires, casting an occasional glance at him. “Not really. Ripping out an IV hurts more than you’d think.” He glared at her for a few seconds. “I’m not gonna go off and tell Merle or anything,” she said quietly. Finished with the wires, Alex stuck one of the heart monitor patches back on his chest. “’Night.”

She left his room, shutting the door behind her. Two of the suits passed by, walking quickly. Alex followed after them. They went into the conference room across the hall from the resident break room. It was packed with doctors and CDC officials. Alex leaned against the wall outside the room and listened.

She wished she hadn’t.

=============================================================

A new strain of influenza, they’d said. There was not vaccine, it was highly contagious, and it had a high mortality rate. It was transmitted via “person to person contact.” It hit hard and fast and killed in a matter of days. Alex left after that. Signed out early, said she wasn’t feeling well. Probably wasn’t the best thing to tell her supervisor, but she stuck with the excuse. Sitting in her car, Alex watched two cars speed in and park in front of the ER doors. Several people got out of each. Three of them staggered inside with the walk of a sick man.

Alex came in early for her next shift and her usually unflappable supervisor looked relieved. “Did you see anyone come in on your way out last night? Started coming in one after the other, all sick as dogs. Doctors put them all in quarantine and more CDC people came in to see them today.” She paused, looked around, and gave Alex a serious stare. “Be careful. Fourth floor is the last one to evacuate today. The whole hospital is going to be for the June flu patients.”

The quarantine zone began a few doors down from the elevators. The tenting, suits, masks, and anxious chatter set Alex on edge. The silence of the elevator was welcome. She stepped out onto the fourth floor and started working on discharge paperwork with the nurses. She breezed through the first few rooms and then grabbed the chart for 410. 

Daryl cut his eyes from the TV screen to Alex when she came in. He nodded at her.

“Well hey, lil’ Miss Candy Striper,” Merle drawled from his seat.

Daryl huffed and threw the TV remote at his brother with a decent amount of force. “Doc, when can I get these stitches out?” he asked, motioning at his forehead.

“I can do that,” she said, going for the supply cabinet in the corner. “Someone came by with your afternoon meds?” She rolled across the room on a stool and set the scissors and butterfly bandages on the table beside the bed.

“Yeah. ‘Round three.”

Alex was having a time getting the gloves on – sweaty hands and latex gloves didn’t mix.

“Why so strung up, babydoll?” Merle asked.

“It’s rough out there,” she said shortly. The stitches came out in two easy snips and she pressed the bandage against the healing cut.

“Heard they’re kickin’ everyone out by six,” Merle said casually.

“Hospital is going to be a quarantine zone for the sick. Be glad Daryl’s getting out now.”

“Damn,” Merle muttered. 

“The news ain’t said anything like that,” Daryl said, nodding toward the TV. A carefully coiffed news anchor was reporting on cancelled city events. The ticker at the bottom of the screen had a few figures about the June Flu running. The three of them watched in silence as a death toll suddenly scrolled by. “Get some rest,” Alex said quietly. “Someone should be by with your discharge papers and clothes soon.”

Merle scoffed.

“He needs it if you’re taking all his pain medicine,” Alex said sharply. Daryl flushed a deep red and Merle tried to protest. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

Merle held up his hands in surrender. “Aw, honey, look at ‘im. He’s a baby but he’s tough. He don’t need it all, ya know?”

Alex backed toward the door. “No, I don’t.” she said. She turned to Daryl. “Be careful out there.”

“Oh, we will be, Candy Stripes,” Merle said, kicking his feet up on Daryl’s bed.

=============================================================

The situation was rapidly deteriorating. The last of the “regular” patients had been discharged or evacuated to another hospital.

CDC suits were still standing in corners, having serious conversations on cell phones and with each other. All medical staff had been divided between patient management and placement. Some that were assigned to the sick zones quit on the spot while others put on face masks (biohazard suits had all been claimed hours ago) and got to work.

Alex was helping move infected patients into rooms. She was going back to the ER waiting room to bring back more infected with the screaming started. CDC suits sprinted ahead of her and one of them stopped her at the door. “Go back to your assigned station,” he said tersely. 

“This is my assigned station,” Alex snapped back.

“Get. Out,” he snarled.

The door swung open behind him: absolute chaos.

Blood and entrails covered the floors and walls. Some people were fighting, others were hunched over screaming bodies on the floor. Were they - 

The door shut.

Gunshots.

“C’mon, c’mon, let’s get back, we got other people to worry about,” someone muttered, dragging Alex backward. Rob, head of orthopedics, was pulling Alex down the hall.

“What...what was that?” No answer. “Rob, what was that? What’s going on?” He kept pulling her along the packed hallway and Alex let him, too shocked to do differently. “Tell me what’s going on. Rob, please. What was that? What’s happening?”

“You’ll see in a minute. Five staff left and three more are infected now. I need you in Zone Three - yes ma’am, the severe cases. Here, fresh mask.” He forced a smile and pushed her through the doors of Sick Zone Three.

It hit her like a wall - the heat, the noise, the stench. Alex gagged. “How many bodies are here?”

“We don’t want to cause any more panic,” Rob said, a look of resignation on his face. He pointed her into a room. The beds were pushed side by side along the walls to fit as many people as possible inside. “Okay, what you’re gonna do is watch this room. The second someone dies you tell us. Don’t wait, and if no one’s outside, just yell. Understand. Do not hesitate.”

Alex pulled the mask on. “What’s the rush with the bodies?”

Rob scanned the room, then the hall. “They won’t really be dead,” he said lowly.

“What?”

“Rob, get out here now!” Someone yelled. And he was gone, leaving Alex alone with the almost undead.

They all breathed so shallowly that it was hard to tell if they were dead or not. Every few minutes she went around the room and shook legs or asked questions to see if they were alive. After three rounds one man wasn’t answering questions or responding to a particularly violent leg shake. Alex reached for his neck to feel for a pulse.

“Don’t,” a weak voice warned. Alex pulled her hand back, remembering Rob’s warning.

She went to the door and looked out. “Someone’s dead,” she called uncertainly, feeling foolish. “Hello?”

“Be there in a second,” someone yelled from the next room.

“Alright,” she whispered, going back into the room. 

This was fine.

The dead man was sitting up.

This was not fine.

He turned and took a bite out of the woman next to him. The woman screamed and all the other infected patients screamed. Alex backed into the door, shocked into silence once more. There was more panicked yelling in the hall.

“Alex, move!” Rob yelled. Where? Towards the dead cannibal? “ALEX, NOW.”

And then she was falling, a growling weight pushing her down. A man who looked like he had been dead for three days and was covered in blood grabbed her arm and tried to take a bite of her. She screamed and tried to pull away, but for a dead man he was strong. She was vaguely aware that she was pushing herself across the floor and still trying to push the dead man off of her. It was growling and snapping at her, strings of blood oozing from its mouth.

Then it was gone and a gunshot echoed in the small room. Alex’s ears rang to the point of nausea and someone pulled her up and out of the room. 

“Did it get you? Bite you, scratch you, anything? Alex, sweetheart, look at me.” Rob anxiously scanned her face. She shook her head and tried to take a full breath but could only get short gasps. “It’s okay, it’s over, you’re okay,” Rob said. He pushed his gun into her hands. “I know you can use this. Alex, focus. Shoot ‘em in the head, stab ‘em if you can. They’re attracted to noise, that’s why that one went in there. Understand? They only go down with a headshot. Get out of here, understand? Get far away from people -”

“What about here? Don’t you need people?”

“This place is a death trap, Alex. I’ll leave soon, don’t worry.”

“Don’t you need this? I have one at home, I can’t take yours.” Alex tried to hand the gun back to Rob but he only pushed it back. 

“You need that for getting home. There are plenty around here; don’t worry about me. Just get out of here and be safe. Maybe I’ll see you around. Good luck, Alex.” Then he was gone, swallowed by the crowd.

[easnuppa]

Secret feelings

A special thanks to the wonderful @crossbows-and-moonshine for helping me with beta reading! You are truely wonderful and special and i apretiate you lots and lots!!!

Summary

my female o/c is one of the orignial group members in the walking dead, she have always known her place with them and since the world ended she have bonded with them and sees them as her new family, until one of the men starts to shine alittle brighter then the rest in her eyes.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x ofc

Warnings: description of violence, language, mention of rape.

Chapter 1: Prologue

There it was again, that weird smirk and that knowing look that seemed to be contagious throughout the group that had become her family after the world went to shit. Everytime she entered the common room inside the prison, or she stepped outside to work the fences, people would have that shit eating grin and that knowing look plastered on their faces, it was starting to get on her nerves. What was it that they knew that she didnˋt? The only person that was acting somewhat normal, normal for him at least was Daryl.

Her heart started beating faster just thinking about the man. She gave herself a mental slap in the face, she had to stop this nonsense, the man was her best friend, had been ever since that night at the CDC. There had not been enough rooms for everyone, so she had the choice to either bunk up with Glenn or Daryl, the choice had been easy, Glenn had given her the creeps before he met Maggie and fell for her, Daryl seemed as antisocial as her self, so she had just trudged into the room behind him and placed her scarce belongings on the floor.

At first Daryl had seemed annoyed, but she had simply shrugged and stated all the other rooms where taken by the rest of the group. He had accepted her statement quietly, until later that night, after they had all had filled their bellies with food and drinks. She could not remember the last time she had gotten that wasted. Daryl had seemed pretty far gone too, he had actually cracked a few jokes with the rest of the group and when they had all turned in, he had turned into quite a chatterbox. They had stayed up most of the night talking, and from that night on they had become real close. He had accepted her wanting to learn about tracking and hunting, he had let her tag along when he had searched the woods for Sophia, he had also accepted that she had placed her tent right next to his, after that devastating day when they learned that Sophia had turned and had been locked away in Hershelˋs barn. She had quietly sat with him every night, given him her comfort and support and he had not even once tried to push her away.

They were friends, best friends infact, so why had her stupid heart decided that it was gonna fuck up what meant the most to her in this shitty world now? It had hit her like a brick wall when Daryl had not come back from the mission to save Glenn and Maggie from the crazy Governor. Rick had explained to her that Daryl had met up with his long lost brother Merle in Woodbury. No one had wanted Merle back in the group, and Daryl had been forced into a corner, he had to choose between his blood and his new family, he had chosen his brother. She could not blame him, she understood, but it hurt none the less. It actually hurt so much that she had cried herself to sleep every night, clutching Darylˋs pillow, embracing the smell of him that still lingered faintly in the fabric. Then it had hit her like a sledgehammer, she not only thought of him as her bestfriend, she had actually grown feelings for him on a deeper level, and then he was gone. After realizing this she had decided that she needed to be around him, not that she would ever tell him how she felt about him, she knew that would only ruin everything, that he would never in a million years return her feelings. He was simply not the type of guy that swooned over a simple girl like her. She could accept the fact, she just needed him around. So she had packed up her things, and decided that since he had left, she would too, she would use the skills he had taught her and find them.

But destiny had something else in store for her. When she had entered the prison gates and was making her way into the forest line, a truck had burst through the gates surrounding the prison and walkers had spilled out into the yard. A few more trucks had pulled up as well and shit hit the fan again. The Governor had retaliated and was peppering her friends and family with bullets. She had shrugged off her backpack and joined her new family in the fight, and suddenly out of nowhere he was there, in front of her, fighting by her side once again. Her heart had soared from joy and she had found new strength that she did not know she possessed. From that day until now, things had gone back to how it was before he had left. Well almost the same, now she felt like a giddy schoolgirl every time he was around. She felt nervous and weird, her palms sweaty, her pulse racing, light headed, she blushed more easily and always in the wrong moments. She giggled hysterically every time Daryl cracked one of his dry jokes, that had just made her snort earlier. She knew she was being ridiculous, she knew people would start to notice if she did not pull her act together soon, but she could simply not help it. It was like the idiotic behaviour forced itself out no matter how hard she tried to supress it.

"Ey, ya in there? Ya cominˋ or what?" she felt a nudge to her shoulder and her head snapped up, her eyes locking in on the most sky blue eyes she had ever seen. She shook her head slightly and forced her trail of thoughts to the back of her head. A wide smile forced her lips to part and she could feel the heat creep up her neck and cheeks. She cleared her throat and brushed off the dead leaves that were clinging stubbornly to her hot skin on her thighs. "Mmm," she had to force the sound out, she knew talking was no use, her brain went to mush when she stared into his eyes, and she turned into a blabbering airhead. No, she was definitely not gonna make an ass out of herself today. They were going hunting, the group was in desperate need of food, and she needed to concentrate. She silently walked next to Daryl through the gates, Carol giving her that same look as Maggie had given her a few minutes earlier. She felt her cheeks heat up again and she lowered her head so that her long blonde bangs would cover the blush, she would simply die if Daryl noticed it.

Being out in the quietness of the forest felt refreshing, away from the prison that some days seemed to close in on her. Away from the group and the weird looks. Just her, the animals and Daryl. Daryl was so much like her, he enjoyed the silence, she did not have to wrack her brain to come up with some nonsense to talk about with him. It was like they had this silent understanding, and right now it suited her better than most days. They had caught a string of squirrels each, a couple of rabbits and from the looks of it, it was about mid day, maybe early afternoon and she knew they had to start thinking about heading home. She wished that they could just stay out here for the night, but roaming the woods at night wasnˋt safe, even for skilled hunters like they were.

She wiped her forehead that was now drenched in sweat and she tied up her hair in a loose bun on the top of her head. The heat and the humidity was almost suffocating her. She felt a bottle being shoved into her hands, she looked at the bottle filled with clear water, and Darylˋs callous fingers wrapped around it. She blinked and took it, as she took a large swig of the cool water she gave him a grateful smile, earning a nod in return.

"Weˋll rest up here and then head back," he said shortly before he slumped down onto the mossy forest floor. She followed his example and had another swig before she handed him back his water bottle. Her eyes were glued to him as he took a large swig, a drop of water escaped his lips and trickled down his chin and his throat. She swallowed hard and had to tear her gaze away, the fluttery feeling she had in the pit of her stomach was too much right now, she felt the heat color her cheeks again and she ducked her head down, embarrassed that her body was acting up like this.

"Whaˋs the matter with ya, ya cominˋ down with the flu or sumthin’?" she jumped slightly when Darylˋs gruff voice suddenly broke the silence. She shook her head, trying to get a grip on herself yet again.

"No, just the heat. This summer has been pretty harsh, donˋt you think?" Daryl just shrugged his shoulders,

"Sˋ nothinˋ worse than normal, ya would tell me if sumthinˋ was up?" she nodded.

"Of course, but thereˋs nothing," she lifted her gaze and met Darylˋs squinting look. She tried to give him a reassuring smile.

"I promise," she let out what she hoped sounded like a carefree laugh. Daryl seemed to settle with her statement and they started on the long trail back to the prison.

Dinner had been cooked and almost inhaled in the common area. It was not nearly enough to satisfy their hunger completely, but at least it was something. People seemed content as her gaze went over all her familyˋs faces. She smiled to herself, it was weird how so many different people had bonded so strongly, her eyes landed on Daryl as he was sitting leaning on the railings of the staircase leading up to the second floor of cells. That was his usual spot after dinner, if they were not scheduled for guard duty out in the guard tower. Her smile grew bigger without her noticing, until she felt a slight nudge to her side. She looked over and met Carolˋs shit eating grin.

"Did you tell him yet?" she cocked a brow quizzically at Carol, Carol rolled her pretty light blue eyes at her. Carol and Maggie were probably the two females she had grown closest to in the group, Carol was almost like a mother to her and Maggie was like a sister.

"Donˋt act stupid, it doesnˋt suit you much," she pushed a string of pale blonde hair behind her ear.

"I can promise you, it's not an act, I don't know what youˋre talking about," Carol sighed deeply.

"Silly girl, itˋs obvious to everyone that you have feelings for him, you should tell him," she inhaled sharply, was she that transparent? Everyone knew about how she felt for Daryl, oh fucking christ, did Daryl know? She wished a black hole would open up and pull her under. "Donˋt look so shocked, itˋs understandable that you harbor feelings for him, he is a handsome man, and you two have been real close for a long time. I think you should tell him," she shook her head fiercely.

"Are you crazy? It would ruin everything!" she stammered almost in panic. Carol placed a calming hand on her arm.

"You should tell him, it wouldnˋt ruin a thing. But I wouldnˋt wait too long if I were you. Someone else might come along and snatch him up, right in front of your eyes. You need to get your ass in gear," Carol nodded discreetly over to the staircase where Daryl was seated, she followed Carolˋs gaze and her eyes landed on the youngest Green girl. She was laughing and smiling adoringly up at Daryl, coaxing a small smile from him in return. She could hardly believe her eyes, little miss perfect Beth Green had a thing for Daryl, and she was flirting shamelessly with him in front of her father and sister. And the worst thing was, Daryl did not seem to mind it one bit. She jumped up from the seat next to Carol and stomped up the stairs, forcing her way in between Daryl and little miss sunshine and over to her cell that she mainly used to store her belongings. She spent most nights with Daryl out in the guard tower or laying on the perch next to him, now she could not stand being around people, at least other than Daryl. She paced back and forth in her cell, she recognized the jealousy tearing at her from the inside. This was simply ridiculous, she had no claim over him, she was acting like a spoiled brat. She tried to get in control of her breathing as she pulled her hands through her hair and sunk down on the untouched bunk. She leaned her elbows on her knees and rested her face in her hands, her eyes were tearing up but she swallowed hard and forced it back. She mentally kicked herself for being so childish.

A slight rustle in the curtain hanging in front of the bars alerted her that she was no longer alone. She felt someone sit down next to her, a gentle hand rubbing comforting circles on her back.

"Hey sweetie, are you alright? What happened downstairs? You left in such a hurry," Maggie, of course it was Maggie who had followed her. Nothing went unnoticed by the brunette. She lifted her gaze and gave her bestfriend a half smile and nodded, not really ready to share the uproar of feelings going on inside of her.

"Yeah, I’m just tired from the hunt, and I think the sun kinda got to me today. Have a nasty headache brewing," Maggie looked at her for a moment, her eyes narrowing for a slight second before she nodded and continued rubbing her back.

"Alright, well then the best medicine is to get some rest. I can ask daddy if heˋs got something for the headache," she knew her friend was only trying to be helpful, but right now she only wanted to be left alone.

"No, I just need some sleep, I will be fine in the morning, I promise," she said a little more urgent than she intended. She underlined her statement with patting her bestfriends hand. Maggie let out a sigh and got up.

"You were scheduled for guard duty with Daryl tonight, Iˋll ask if Rick can cover for you," she forced a grateful smile up at her friend.

"Thank you, I appreciate it. Good night, see you in the morning,"

Maggie bid her goodnight and left her cell, she turned on her bunk and laid down facing the gray, cold wall. She was probably just overreacting because she was tired. She just needed sleep and everything would be fine in the morning. She yawned and closed her eyes. When she heard heavy footsteps nearing her cell, she knew who it was, she sighed heavily. Maybe if she pretended to sleep then he would go away, but no, she knew him better, he was not the type to play games like that.

"Hey, heard ya were sick and that ya werenˋt gonna come ta guard duty," she bit down on her lip, she hated the fact that she had to lie to him.

"Yeah, just need some sleep, have a headache," silence fell, but she knew he was still standing there behind her, probably with his crossbow slung over his shoulder, one hand tugging on the strap and the other close to his mouth where he was chewing on his cuticle. It was so typical Daryl when he felt out of place.

"Dˋya need anythinˋ?" his voice was low and more gentle then she had ever heard it. He was concerned about her, her heart started picking up speed, but she chided herself at once. Of course he would worry, they were friends. Daryl always thought about the people of the group.

"No Daryl, I just need sleep, Iˋll be fine in the morning," again there was only silence, then the known rustle when he let go of the drapes and his heavy footsteps leading away from her cell.

She swallowed hard again and shut her eyes tightly, she hated this, why had Carol pointed that out to her? It had not even crossed her mind that someone else was crushing on him besides her. The fact that the one who could steal him away was actually little perfect Beth Green, was also mind blowing. She was a nobody compared to Beth, the young girl was perfect in every way. So innocent and sweet, everyone adored her. What was she? A socially awkward outcast, who acted more like a boy than a girl. Boys had never turned their heads after her, she had always been just a buddy, athletic and booksmart. So she had done good in school, but hardly any friends and never a boyfriend. At first she had hoped that Daryl would see how similar they were and take comfort in that, and maybe realize that she was the one he needed by his side. But that was really stupid, all men had the urge to feel that they could provide and protect their woman, not be an equal. She bit down on her lip again and forced the depressing thoughts to the back of her head, she needed to sleep, maybe things would look better in the morning. Afterall she had his friendship, that was something she would never lose, and that was the most important thing.