#twd

[antlergrave]

daryl doodles <3

[darylandbethfanforever9]

Daryl loved Beth

He was tough… He was. …So was she…She didn’t know it, but she was.

[psntheopossum]

💥🔦. 💥🐎

[rememberwhouare]

The Walking Dead x 🖕| Memories

[b1eedthefreak]

Pookie hear me out..

The group is in Alexandria (Daryl and reader are in a pre established relationship) and there is a party happening that night because of whatever reason. Reader is worried about wearing a particularly short flowy dress but Daryl says she looks pretty/hot and readers like “yeah but it’s a bit too short don’t you think?” And Daryl’s like “yah but I can fight so wear the fuckin dress”

And then maybe they get to the party and reader is having fun when someone hits on her and when she rejects them they make a comment about her dress then Daryl comes in and blah blah blah

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. Claimed

⌇daryl dixon x reader

summary⌇while attending a party in alexandria, one of the alexandrians take an interest in you and daryl’s not happy

warnings⌇daryl punches somebody…

word count⌇0.9k

a/n⌇pookie i am absolutely hearing you out because possessive daryl?? yes.

The dress felt like a mistake the moment you walked into the party.

Sure, it was cute, thin and flowy, the fabric soft against your skin, the hem brushing high on your thighs every time you moved. It had felt like a good idea when you’d slipped it on in the mirror, Daryl standing behind you, eyes dark and jaw tight, telling you with that low, gravelly voice,

“Wear the dress. I like it.”

“It’s too short don’t you think?” You added.

He pulled you in by the hips, whispering, “Ain’t nobody gonna touch ya. Ain’t nobody gonna look at ya the wrong way. I’ll make sure of it.”

You believed him. You always believed him.

But now, under the dim glow of string lights and the hum of quiet music, you felt eyes on you. Not Daryl’s, his were a constant, warm weight on your skin, always trailing over you like you were the only thing in the room.

No, these were the eyes of people who didn’t know.

The Alexandrians didn’t know what it meant, the way Daryl’s hands lingered on your hips, the way his arm hovered protectively behind you. They didn’t know how he pulled you in at night, tucked you against his chest, or how his lips brushed softly over your hair when you fell asleep.

They didn’t know you were his.

Which is why, when the man approached you, the grin on his face lazy and sharp, you felt your stomach sink.

“Hey,” he drawled, slurring slightly from the beer in his hand. “Lookin’ real good tonight.”

You shifted uncomfortably, taking a small step back. “Thanks.”

“Dress like that, you tryna kill us all or somethin’?” His eyes dragged down your body, slow and unashamed. “Bet you’re killin’ him, huh? Gonna make him lose his mind the way you’re showin’ off like that.”

Your throat tightened, but before you could open your mouth, he leaned in closer, voice dropping.

“Bet you like that attention. Walkin’ around lookin’ like a fuckin’ whore—”

“What the fuck did ya say?”

The voice snapped through the air like a whip.

You turned just as Daryl stormed in, shoulders tense, fists clenched tight at his sides. His eyes dark, dangerous, were locked on the man like a predator ready to pounce.

The guy chuckled, raising his hands like it was all a joke. “Relax, man. Just sayin’, if she’s gonna dress like that, what’s she expect? Walkin’ ‘round like a slut when she’s got a man?”

You barely had time to register the words before Daryl lunged.

His fist connected with the guy’s jaw in a sickening crack, sending him stumbling back into the table with a crash. Gasps erupted around the party as drinks spilled and chairs clattered.

But Daryl wasn’t finished.

“Fuckin’ bastard!”

He surged forward, grabbing the guy by the shirt, slamming him down onto the ground as his fists rained down, over and over, the sound of knuckles on bone brutal and raw.

“Call her that again, I fuckin’ dare ya!” Daryl roared, voice ragged, spitting the words through clenched teeth.

“Daryl!”

Rick’s voice barely cut through the chaos. You could feel the energy shift, everyone was staring, frozen, unsure whether to intervene.

“Daryl! That’s enough!”

Rick grabbed Daryl’s shoulder, trying to pull him off, but Daryl shrugged him off, slamming his fist into the man’s face one last time before Rick physically yanked him back, holding him tight.

Daryl’s chest heaved, his breathing ragged as he glared down at the man—a broken, bloodied mess on the ground. His hands trembled, knuckles raw and bleeding, but his eyes…

His eyes were on you.

Your breath caught. The fire in his gaze wasn’t just rage, it was possession, fierce and unrelenting. He looked at you like you were the most important thing in the world. Like he’d do it all over again if it meant keeping you safe.

“You okay?” he rasped, voice hoarse.

You nodded. Daryl’s hands, bloody, reached for you, and you met him halfway, your fingers wrapping around his wrists as he stared down at you like you were his whole world.

“I’m okay,” you whispered, trying to steady your breathing.

Daryl’s chest heaved once, twice—and then his hands cupped your cheeks, rough palms cradling your face like you were something fragile.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, voice breaking. “Didn’t mean—he just—”

“I know,” you said softly, “I know baby.”

“He called you a fuckin’ whore,” Daryl growled, voice low, like he was still ready to kill for you. His thumbs brushed your cheeks, and he leaned in, so close you could feel his breath against your lips.

“Ain’t nobody calls you that,” he murmured. “Ain’t nobody talks ‘bout my girl like that.”

You melted.

Right there, in front of everyone, you reached up and kissed him—slow, soft, a silent thank you. A promise. Daryl groaned against your mouth, his hands tightening on your waist like he couldn’t bear to let you go.

And when you pulled back, just barely, his forehead rested against yours, and his voice was a whisper, rough and aching.

“Let’s get outta here. Can’t stand people starin’ at ya like that.”

You nodded, a small smile curling on your lips.

And as he led you away, his bloody knuckles warm against the small of your back, you couldn’t help but think—God, you loved that man.

[cycovisionn]

[myobsessionsspace]

Danai at the Metropolitan Museum of Art; for a dinner commemorated the reopening of the wing and its revamped collection of work from Africa, the ancient Americas and Oceania.

[saperbasement]

silly

[darylandbethfanforever9]

I’m getting pregnant , just looking at him @jtargaryen18 and @gneebee

he cannot be looking this good while im ovulating

[kaayyyys]

he's so cute when he's goofy

[karnarche]

Man, I like Carl in the show, but I really miss the little freak who nearly beat two kids to death with a brick. Give the people violent dumbass Carl Grimes 😔

[etafushi]

i genuinely don't understand how some people srsly didn't see how richonne would be a thing when this happened in s3

and many other scenes BUT SPECIFICALLY THIS ONE

the way he looks around like an idiot after 😭 love him wow

[vampirevelvet]

@two1nthep1nk you‘re so right and this is a great analysis of early seasons Daryl

the way his voice gets softer and he looks so small :( please he's just a little boy and he wants to be with his brother

Rick is as gentle as he can 😭 but I could do better

[redscrawl]

no i will not make separate blogs for my fandoms, everyone who follows me must experience ALL my insanity

[sirenejjk]

Rick: yeehaw-ing his way through life, used to being challenged by the people around him, widower with two kids, hallucinating, talking to the air, getting his ass handed to him by the Governor, beat up and broken thinking he lost his baby and having to deal with his grieving teen who kinda blames him, surviving out of squirrels and twigs, has to brutally kill a man via biting his throat to save his son from being assaulted scaring himself a little by how low he can go to protect his loved ones.

Michonne, as unhinged as he is: YES