wingsandarrow

[wingsandarrow]

“Bite me”

I AM TRYING TO🙏

[wingsandarrow]

“He’s so full of himself”

yeah I wish I was too

[wingsandarrow]

🏹 @drekkavac liked for a starter!

Daryl would be the first to admit that his social skills left a lot to be desired. He wasn't even great at talking to people he knew well, let alone to strangers, and he doubted more than three words had passed between himself and the newer members of their group. Anya in particular seemed especially close-lipped, a quality he could appreciate, and they'd passed a handful of guard duty shifts in what he thought of as comfortable silence.

He wasn't as trusting as Rick, and he never really stopped keeping an eye on people, especially the new ones, but that was a habit that long predated the apocalypse. He preferred never to be alone in an enclosed space with anyone. The end of the world had a way of bringing true colors quickly to the surface though, and that was both a blessing and a curse. People could be truly awful when their lives were on the line--something Daryl had always known, so it didn't surprise him--or they could be breathtakingly selfless and heroic, a side of humanity he hadn't seen a lot of until now.

There weren't supposed to be walkers in this part of the prison, but evidently there had been a breach, and he muttered a curse as they fought their way through the bodies. It was too late, too close, for the crossbow, and the hunting knife in his hand sunk into skull after skull as they tried to reach the door. It was clear that was where they were coming from, and he couldn't think why the fuck it would even be open. Either the walkers were learning to turn door handles, or someone had deliberately let them in. "Get it shut," he growled, stabbing at a corpse trying to claw its way through the crack, his shoulder shoved up against the door, but it wasn't budging.

[wingsandarrow]

"He deserves worse," he muttered, but he grudgingly cracked a smile. He found it almost impossible not to smile when she laughed, and the fact that she could do it right now, after having the life scared out of her, told him all he needed to know about whether she felt safe here.

"I'm sure." He stood, circling the couch. It wasn't late, but he'd prefer it be ready for her, and Daryl was always more comfortable with something to do. "I'll change out the sheets, get ya a clean blanket." He wouldn't get a wink of sleep if he knew she was on the couch when there was a perfectly good bed just one room away. It was also further from the front door. He didn't really expect her ex to find her here, but if he did, he wasn't getting past Daryl. There was a bat and a crossbow in the closet, to say nothing of the weapons he had locked away. He'd been raised on hunting and bar fights.

She was safe with him. Daryl was protective of her, even though he knew he didn't have a right to be. They'd never been together, and she was miles out of his league. He knew what it was like to be on her side of things, though, with an abuser she couldn't shake. Not with a partner, but with family. He had enough physical and emotional distance from Merle to own up to that much. "No problem. If he's there again, it ain't gonna be pretty." He knew himself, knew he wouldn't be able to stop himself from taking a swing if her ex--if anyone--ever came for her in front of him. "I like the company. You can take the bedroom. There's a little more privacy."

[wingsandarrow]

She was safe with him. Daryl was protective of her, even though he knew he didn't have a right to be. They'd never been together, and she was miles out of his league. He knew what it was like to be on her side of things, though, with an abuser she couldn't shake. Not with a partner, but with family. He had enough physical and emotional distance from Merle to own up to that much. "No problem. If he's there again, it ain't gonna be pretty." He knew himself, knew he wouldn't be able to stop himself from taking a swing if her ex--if anyone--ever came for her in front of him. "I like the company. You can take the bedroom. There's a little more privacy."

"Restraining order ain't shit." He frowned over from where he was making her a drink. Daryl knew enough guys like that to know a piece of paper wasn't stopping them. After tonight, he was tempted to have a little conversation with her ex himself. He brought her the glass and sat next to her on the couch. He’d never really learned the art of comforting a crying woman, but as a bartender pouring her a drink was his go-to move. "Don’t worry about it. Stay as long as you need to. Help you with security at your place, if you want."

[wingsandarrow]

Cursed, sure. The sad fucking truth of it was that Merle brought most of his problems on himself, and he brought them down on other people too, namely Daryl. Though he wasn't capable of naming his brother's faults out loud, he wasn't ignorant to them. Merle was a bully and a dipshit, and since Daryl had never been allowed to exist outside of his shadow, he was even less than that. He'd heard it every day of his life, from Merle, from their dad, from people who didn't even have to open their mouths to let him know he was shit on their shoes, and he'd never be more than that. They were all safer with Merle gone, and Daryl perhaps the safest of all, but it didn't stop the feeling of being cut adrift. Except for that brief turn in a county prison (also his brother's fucking fault, and Daryl's for listening to him), he'd never been without him for this long.

No matter what Carol said about it, Daryl didn't see it that way, that he was every bit as good as Shane or Rick, that in a way he'd even started to become one of them. In his mind, they tolerated him as long as he made himself useful, but they'd see the truth of him eventually. Easier if he left before that happened, before they learned to hate him. Shane was right though-- he'd protect them with everything he had, not because they meant that much to him but because it was the way he was made, because it was what Shane and Rick would have done, and Daryl had already started to idolize them a little, better role-models than his idiot brother.

It was pure instinct when Shane raised his hand. Daryl flinched. It was a small thing, a slight tightening around his eyes, the barest jerk of his head, but it was unmistakable from such a small distance. He'd thought that backhand was coming for him. How many times had Merle smacked him for mouthing off? How many times had their dad done worse? Shane was only swatting a mosquito, but he still sucked in a breath, knowing he'd given away far too much from that one small reaction. His gaze skidded away, unable to meet his eyes now, that sudden fire extinguished.

"Yeah, well. You wouldn't be wrong," he muttered, rubbing at his jaw. Merle was a douchebag, but he was still his brother. Daryl's loyalty had already started to shift, but it didn't go easily. He worked his jaw while Shane spoke, chewing the inside of his cheek to keep quiet while he got closer to the truth than anyone ever had. He finally raised his eyes, defiance flaring once more, but his voice was quiet. "All the damn time. Yeah, he's a dumbass, and he brought a lot of shit down on us, but he protected me too. Best he could, anyway." Sure, Merle was mean as a rattlesnake, to Daryl more than anyone, but nobody else had his back quite like he did either. Nobody else was going to step between Daryl and their dad when he was in one of his drunken rages. Nobody else was defending him against the rest of the world who called them white trash.

You're a good guy, Daryl.

The words visibly shook him, and he was forced to look away again, squinting at the sky where clouds scudded overhead and then at the ground, tracking the deer temporarily forgotten. Shane couldn't really believe that. Maybe they just needed him for now, but that was alright with Daryl. Nobody else had ever needed him before either. "Somebody oughta put that asshole out of his misery." There was no love lost between Daryl and Carol's husband. He'd thought about it, that much was certain. It was all too easy to make a death look like an accident out here with the dead walking around. But he wouldn't hurt Carol like that and, frankly, Daryl wasn't that cut-throat to just kill someone in cold blood. In the heat of the moment, maybe. To protect someone, sure as shit. But not just because her life would be better if that abusive fuck was gone.

His expression was uncertain as he turned his gaze back to Shane, searching his face for some evidence that this was all bullshit. Daryl was an expert when it came to detecting bullshit. He really thought he might mean it. The fact that he didn't have to ask why said it was true enough. He didn't want to be responsible for half the camp starving or getting eaten by walkers. Daryl could do that much to protect them, at least. "Alright. I'm stayin'. But I'm not asking your fuckin' permission to go hunting, so lay off."

Daryl had never liked Merle's plan of robbing the camp blind as soon as they had the opportunity. He didn't oppose stealing on the face of it. There were plenty of times growing up, when his dad and Merle were both on a bender or had been out of work for months, when game was hard to come by or he'd just been damn unlucky, that it was steal or starve. So, no. Stealing was acceptable and even necessary at times. It was stealing from these people that he didn't like. They were decent. They'd taken them in when they didn't have to. And they were just trying to survive, like everyone now. It felt wrong to take from them when they had the whole world to pillage.

It went without saying that plan was over the moment Merle disappeared. Daryl couldn't put a name to all the things he felt when he found out they'd left his brother chained on a rooftop. It didn't really matter to him that Merle had put himself in that position, that his behavior was always landing him in shit like that because that was what came of being an asshole and a moron. Merle was the god of Daryl's small universe. Without him, he was cut adrift, a planet without orbit. He was angry and resentful and afraid and alone, but Daryl was always those things. Deep down, he was also just the smallest bit relieved, and that was the worst part. He'd always been a terrible little brother. He betrayed his own blood constantly in his thoughts because the goddamn awful truth of it was that things were easier for him without Merle around, sucking the light and the air out of everything.

He knew he should have cut and run by now. He almost had that first night, after Merle had gone, but he wasn't as reckless as his brother. He needed a plan first. Then they'd gone back and realized Merle had probably escaped, so of course he couldn't leave after that. He'd waited and waited for Merle to come back or to at least find a way to send him a message, to meet him somewhere so they could bail, or… he didn't know. But as days and then weeks went by, it became clearer and clearer that Merle wasn't coming for him. Maybe he'd gotten lost. Maybe he'd died after all, from walkers or blood loss or Christ knew what else. Maybe he blamed Daryl for staying with the others even after what they'd done to him. Or maybe Merle just didn't give a shit about him, never had, never would.

It was too much to just sit with all the time, and he'd taken to frequently coming into the woods for game. The crossbow had always been his favorite even before there were walkers to contend with, and it helped that they'd stayed in one place long enough for him to set traps. It eased his guilt slightly to be able to contribute something to the group, and it was reassuring to know he could survive out here alone if he had to. Shit, he'd been doing it for years before the world ended, hiding in the woods for days or weeks when it was too dangerous to go home. He had half a mind to just keep going. Merle wasn't coming back, and he didn't owe the group anything. They didn't owe anything to him. Better to run before they found a reason to send him out on a rail.

He hadn't counted on Shane following after him like a belligerent nanny goat, but he'd done his best to ignore him-- until now. He barely managed not to roll his eyes, tongue swiping over his teeth as he scanned the ground for tracks. He didn't give a shit about their rules, and Shane knew it. "So you came to lecture," he grunted, eyes flicking briefly to him, unimpressed. He hadn't defended himself when the others got into an uproar about that shot. In Daryl's experience, being defensive only made things worse, only gave his accusers more ammunition. He'd been silent through it, simply field dressing and cooking the deer when it was over without comment. He couldn't resist now that it was just him and Shane though. He could just hear Merle's scornful laugh if he knew, but… he sort of liked Shane. He was a good guy, a good leader. His confidence put the rest of the group at ease in a way Daryl never could have managed. "I wouldn't have hit her," he muttered.

He tolerated the rest of his speech in silence until he got to the part about Merle, and then he whirled on him, snarling. "Don't you talk about him. You don't know shit." He couldn't even comprehend some of the things Shane was saying. We can't lose you. We need each other. It was bullshit. He knew it was. Nobody needed him. But it was easier to be angry about Merle than it was about himself.

[wingsandarrow]

"Restraining order ain't shit." He frowned over from where he was making her a drink. Daryl knew enough guys like that to know a piece of paper wasn't stopping them. After tonight, he was tempted to have a little conversation with her ex himself. He brought her the glass and sat next to her on the couch. He’d never really learned the art of comforting a crying woman, but as a bartender pouring her a drink was his go-to move. "Don’t worry about it. Stay as long as you need to. Help you with security at your place, if you want."

open: anyone 33+ (older muses and trans muses get bonus points as always!)

muse: serena brody, 26-31, art history professor, aeronautics engineer and / or hitwoman (verse dependent), madelaine p*tsch fc

plot: serena called y/m after her ab*sive ex tried to break into her house. y/m is letting her stay the night at their place, so give me all the wholesome, domestic vibes. connection: significant other, ex, coworker, fwb, friend, frenemy, best friend, crush, utp (no inc*st/stepc*st, and do not like my starters)

“i just . . .” a pathetic sniffle escaped the redhead as she shook her head. “i can’t believe he actually did that. the restraining order will keep him away.” serena’s voice went into a high pitch, imitating some social worker she’d dealt with prior. “yea right.” she looked over at the other, who’d swooped in to help her like her own guardian angel. and she’s insanely grateful for them. “thanks for letting me stay tonight. i just couldn’t stay somewhere by myself.”

[wingsandarrow]

#until we meet again

DARYL DIXON & CAROL PELETIER💖💔 THE WALKING DEAD 11.24 ▶ Rest In Peace

[wingsandarrow]

DARYL DIXON + riding a motorcycle

[wingsandarrow]

save a horse ride a cowboy, or whatever that saying is

[wingsandarrow]

i literally surrender

[wingsandarrow]

DARYL DIXON IN THE WALKING DEAD | 10.07 “Open Your Eyes”

[wingsandarrow]

The Walking Dead 5.13 | The Walking Dead: Daryl Dixon 1.02

[wingsandarrow]

Daryl’s scars | The Walking Dead

[wingsandarrow]

Favorite Moments of Daryl Dixon /∞

[wingsandarrow]

He knew exactly what he was doing when he made this pic.

And I'm living for it🫣

[wingsandarrow]

Do you think you could, uh, feed my dog?