dixondystopia

[dixondystopia]

~A day to remember~

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Authors note: This was written for @dixons-sunshine ! Hope you like it :)

Summary: ~Today is the day you and Daryl get married~

Word count: 1k

Warnings: None! Just fluff

As dusk settled in, the sky began to paint itself glorious shades of orange and purple, the undersides of clouds glowing a soft shade of pink. With the beauty of spring came the blooming of wildflowers, the fenced in yard of the prison speckled with the multicolored buds. They had handled the few Walkers that had lined the fence an hour prior, leaving the space quiet, a rare amount of calm settling in. It was perfect. It was set.

Daryl stood with his hands behind his back, chewing on his bottom lip to deal with the nerves. He was dressed the nicest you had ever seen him; he wore a button-up flannel shirt Carol had found for him. He had begrudgingly let Carol brush out his hair as well, acting as though it was a hassle when in reality he was glad for the assistance. For the first time in his life, he wanted to look nice. For you, and only you.

Hershel was standing next to him, a book in one hand and a crutch tucked under his other arm.

There was no music, other than the sounds of songbirds and the wind, but that was ok. Silence was a treasure in itself.

Rick and Michonne stood at one end of the matted down section of grass, both looking towards Daryl with small smiles. When Hershel gave them a small nod, Rick extended his elbow to Michonne. She watched him for a moment before taking his arm, smiling as she did so. The two began walking down the make-shift aisle.

Glenn and Maggie followed them, hand in hand. They were followed by Carol and Beth, who held Judith, the toddler grinning as she threw flower petals about, fully enjoying herself.

Finally, it was your turn.

Everyone watched as you slowly walked down the aisle, white fabric trailing behind you. Your dress was absolutely stunning. You and Maggie had found it on a supply run, the marbled white wedding dress in somehow perfect condition. Beth had taken it upon herself to decorate it further with the blooms and buds of wildflowers, turning it into the beauty it was today. The dress, while it was the most beautiful dress Daryl had ever seen, was nothing in comparison to you, the most beautiful amazing girl he had ever met. His girl. His bride.

Daryl smiled broadly as he watched you, his face filled with love and pride. A warm feeling filled your chest as you smiled back, taking careful steps as you walked towards the man you were about to marry. Your hunter. Your love.

Finally you had taken those last few careful paces towards Daryl, standing in front of him, looking through your veil into the eyes of your soon-to-be-husband.

Hershel waited a moment before speaking. “The world is not broken,” he began. “It is bruised and battered, but not lost… This world brought two people together. As partners. As lovers. A broken world wouldn’t do that. A shattered humanity wouldn’t unite people with love.”

Daryl glanced at Hershel, watching him as he spoke. He had always doubted humanity, especially now with what the world has become. But you, his love, the one person he deeply, truly loved, was here. You were with him, hand in hand. Maybe, just maybe, the world isn’t as lost as he thought.

“Here we stand, where two people will unite their love with marriage. Let us listen as the bride and groom read their vows to one another,” Hershel spoke, and gave a nod to Daryl, who chewed his lip a moment before speaking.

“Y/n…” he dropped his gaze momentarily before looking back up at you, face coated with blush. “Y/n, ya have been by my side through everythin’. Through all the highs and all the lows. Ya are my sunshine in this world. My light at the end of the tunnel. Ya are what keeps me going… I don’t have words to express how much I love ya… I promise to be by your side through everythin’…To protect ya and love ya for as long as I live.”

You smiled at him wildly, cheeks flushed red. Your chest filled with butterflies and a deep feeling of love unlike anything you had ever experienced. His words meant more to you than any other words ever had. You looked into his eyes through the veil.

“Daryl, you are the love of my life. I can’t imagine what this life would be without you. With you I feel safe. You are my home, my light, and the one person I am truly, deeply in love with… I promise to be there for you, to be by your side with whatever the world has to throw at us. I love you, and vow to be with you forever.”

Daryl smiled, face flushed with love and emotion. Eyes welling with unspilled tears, he squeezed your hands, feeling as if he did not deserve someone as amazing as you.

Hershel smiled, waiting a moment before continuing. “Daryl, do you take Y/n as your lawfully wedded wife?”

Daryl smiled, eyes never leaving yours. “I do.”

“Y/n, do you take Daryl as your lawfully wedded husband?”

You looked into the eyes of your love, announcing without hesitation, “I do.”

Smiling, Hershel said the words you and Daryl had been waiting to hear for a long time. “I announce you to be husband and wife… You may now kiss the bride.”

You had never seen Daryl blush so much or smile so wildly. You leaned up to kiss him, and he met you halfway, cupping your cheek. There was so much more to this quick kiss than any of the other kisses you had shared before. You were officially his, and he was officially yours. Bound together forever by marriage, united by love unlike anything you had ever felt before.

The few present guests cheered, but it all sounded muffled as you separated, smiling up at the man you had fallen head over heels for. The man who had protected you, loved you, and had always been by your side through everything. Your husband, Daryl.

#norman reedus #daryl dixon #the walking dead #twd daryl #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl x reader #the walking dead daryl #walking dead

[dixondystopia]

This is amazing! Your writing is absolutely incredible :)

Just A Bad Dream | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine.*

Summary: Despite being together for over a year, Daryl had never once uttered those three important words to you. You had never let it bother you, choosing to move at the archers preferred pace. One night, after a particularly bad dream, was when those important words were uttered to you.

Genre: Angst to fluff.

Era: Alexandria, post Saviour arc, pre the building of the bridge.

Warnings: Nightmares.

Word count: 1k.

A/n: Working on transferring all of my projects from my old phone to this one, so I wrote this little snippet instead to have something to post. Hope y'all like it! This was inspired by a post I saw on my dash but I don't know who made the original post.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“No. Please, no! Dun' hurt her, please!”

Stirred from your slumber by your partner's distressed mumbling, you turned over in the bed. You slowly rubbed the sleep from your eyes, clearing the sleep induced fog from your mind before turning your head towards the sleeping archer beside you.

Your heart clenched in pain at the sight of distress evident on his face. His eyes were scrunched tightly and his eyebrows were furrowed into a deep frown. His breathing was erratic and there was sweat rolling down his temple.

While deciding whether or not to gently shake Daryl awake, Daryl bolted upright in bed. “No!”

“Daryl?” you spoke softly, sitting up slowly and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. However, it seemed as though he was still stuck in a daze, because he jerked away from your touch, whipping his head to stare at you with wide eyes.

“Daryl, baby, it's okay! It's just me. It's just me. You're okay. You're here with me,” you reassured him in a soft voice, slowly placing your hand on his shoulder again. When he didn't flinch away this time, you brought both of your hands up to cup his cheeks. “You're okay.”

Daryl slowly nodded, his breathing sounding choked off. Unwillingly, a tear slipped from his glossy eyes, and you gently wiped it away with your thumb. Acting on instinct, Daryl moved forward and wrapped his arms around you, dropping his head onto your shoulder. A sob wracked through his body, causing your heart to break into a million pieces for the man who you loved dearly.

You placed a small, tender kiss to his temple, slightly rocking your bodies from side to side. You simply held Daryl in your arms and allowed him to cry it out, acutely aware of the fact that he rarely, if ever, cried. His emotions bottled over and this one particular nightmare was his breaking point. Whatever the nightmare was about, it must've been terrible for the strong archer to break down.

“He killed ya,” Daryl finally told you in a broken whisper, his voice cracking towards the end. “He killed ya and I couldn't stop him.”

“Who?” you gently urged, rubbing your hand soothingly over his back, hoping to bring him some comfort.

Daryl shook his head, tightening his arms around you. “I dun'—I dun' know,” he whispered with a strain in his voice, sniffling slightly. “It was Negan at first, but then it was my father, and after a while I couldn't tell 'em apart anymore. One of 'em brought that fuckin' bat over yer head and I had to watch. I couldn't stop him. I can't lose ya, I can't—”

You pressed another kiss to his head, holding the back of his head gently as he buried his head deeper into your shoulder. His tears were staining your—technically his—shirt, but you didn't even notice. Your only focus at that moment was to try and calm the archer down. To reassure him that it was only a nightmare, that you were okay.

“Daryl, hey. Look at me,” you softly urged him, watching carefully as he slowly lifted his head and looked into your eyes. “I'm okay. I'm right here. It was only a nightmare. Your father's dead and Negan is locked up. He might as well be dead. Neither of them will ever get to me or anyone else ever again.”

Daryl nodded, his eyes casting downwards. “I know. S'jus'... M'scared,” he admitted, bringing one of his hands up to wipe the tears from his eyes. “I can't lose ya. I jus' can't. I won't survive if somethin' happened to ya.”

“You won't lose me,” you reassured him, pulling him into your arms. Slowly and carefully, you lowered yourself down until you were laying back on the bed, Daryl now comfortably laying on your chest. “I promise you, nothing will happen to me. I won't go anywhere near Negan. You're stuck with me for the rest of your life, Dixon.”

Daryl chuckled softly, burying his head deeper into your chest. “I like the sound of tha',” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to your chest. He sighed in content when he felt your fingers begin to thread through his hair, closing his eyes at the comforting feeling.

In no time at all, Daryl was yawning, eliciting a fond giggle from you. “Go to sleep, baby. I promise I'll be here when you wake up.”

Daryl nodded and allowed his body to relax, willing his mind to shut off. You were okay. He was okay. His father is dead and couldn't terrorize him anymore. Negan wasn't dead, but he was locked up and couldn't get out. Everything was starting to get better.

As he was being lulled into slumber, he let a confession fall from his lips, something he should've told you long ago:

“I love ya.”

You smiled softly down at him, pressing a soft kiss against his forehead. You had waited for a long time to hear those three important words from him. Deep down, you always knew Daryl loved you, but hearing it from the man himself finally confirmed it. Your heart swelled with love, and you couldn't believe how lucky you had gotten with this beautiful man.

“I love you more, Daryl Dixon.”

You didn't know whether he had heard you or not. Everything was silent after you had said that. The warm press of Daryl's body against yours and the reassuring rise and fall of his chest lulled you into sleep as well. However, right before darkness overtook you, you heard him mumbling one last thing.

“I love ya the most, sunshine.”

[dixondystopia]

Fries, Chips, biscuits, cookies, soda, candies, cigarettes, beanie, cotton candy

i'm conducting an experiment. everyone who's from an english speaking country state your country, regional area and what you call the following images. i need to see something

[dixondystopia]

OPERATION SHOW NORMAN REEDUS SOME LOVE

This is the page dedicated to creating a book for Norman Reedus!

As you may well be aware, it would appear that Norman hasn’t been himself recently and a lot of his fans are quite worried about him, there’s been some awful discussions and horrible statements about his upcoming projects and himself via social media and it’s just horrible to see. It’s no wonder that he may be feeling like this, remember that he is human. No human should be made to feel like this EVER. This project isn’t going to get rid of that unfortunately but, hopefully this will at least put a smile on his face and fill his heart.

And so, to complete my mission, I need as many of Norman’s fans to take part.

What’s the mission you ask?

To create a book a book FILLED with positive messages, our appreciation, our love, and dedication for Norman.

This can be in the form of photos, collages, poems, a letter or message, fan art etc explaining how you find him inspirational, how he’s helped you, why you think he’s such an amazing human…ANYTHING! Just show the man some love.

The mission:

Bind a book with all of your lovely submissions in and give the book to Norman.

Once all submissions are received 2 x physical copies will be made and a digital version will be created for everyone who has taken part to see.

What you need to do to take part:

Create a submission for the book! Please read above for inspiration

All submissions need to be A4 size.

Submit to ([email protected]) NOT THROUGH TUMBLR

Keep checking back here for updates and progress photos!

Submission Rules:

Keep it clean and appropriate (all submissions will be proofread and if not appropriate they will not be bound into the book…I will inbox you/email you to give you the opportunity to edit your submission)

The deadline for all submissions is the END OF JULY – at midnight.

Please do not message me your submission through tumblr please use the specified email address – [email protected]

THE 3 SOCIALS THIS PROJECT IS LINKED TO ARE:

TUMBLR – abookfornormanreedus.com ORGANISED BY @fluffy-dixon

INSTAGRAM - abookfornormanreedus

EMAIL – [email protected]

If you have any questions please contact me on either of the above.

Please check all three socials for updates!

And thank you for taking part.

#abookfornormanreedus

#norman reedus #daryl dixon #twd daryl dixon #NORMAN REEDUS #abookfornormanreedus #operationshownormanreedussomelove #thebookofcarol #the walking dead #twd #amc #caryl #twd daryl

[dixondystopia]

Welcome to the apocalypse

From the Forest Master List

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4

Other one-shots

A day to remember (Daryl x Fem!Reader)

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl x reader #norman reedus #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #walking dead #twd daryl

[dixondystopia]

From the Forest: Part 4

Masterlist

Warnings: Typical Walking Dead violence and language, mentions of abuse.

Word count: 2344

“If y'all want to live- if y'all want to survive- you’ve gotta fight for it!” Shane screamed at the group. Rick was clutching an animal control stick with a Walker on the other end, the long dead thing reaching out to whoever it was closest to.

“And I'm talkin’ 'Bout fight! Right here- right now!” Shane yelled, sprinting over the barn doors as Rick tried to call him back.

Rick yelled at Hershel to take the stick so he could intervene, but Hershel remained, stunned and frozen in place. “Hershel! Take this please- Hershel!!”

Daryl stepped in front of you, leveling his gun in preparation for what he knew was coming next.

Lori clutched Carl, calling to Rick. Beth was crying. Maggie was at Hershey's side.

“Do not do this brother!” Rick yelled, clutching the animal control stick.

“Don’t do it!” Glenn shouted at him, shotgun in his hands.

Still, Shane hacked away at the locks on the barn before stepping backwards, pistol in hand, as the wooden doors slowly opened with a low creek.

Walkers, bloodied with arms outstretched, shambled out.

People rushed to the front of the group, weapons raised, firing shots at the reanimated things.

One by one the Walkers fell to the ground, collapsing in heaps of bloodied corpses until all of them had fallen.

All was quiet.

For a moment you thought it was over, thought that all the Walkers had come out of the barn… Until…

A girl.

Everyone fell silent. You could see it on their faces, feel it in the air as heartbreak set in, hope diminishing. Your own heart sank in your chest, knowing who it was as soon as Carol cried out, rushing to meet her little girl only to be stopped by Daryl.

Sophia.

Everyone watched as she stumbled out of the barn in silence, only accompanied by Carol crying out Sophia’s name as Daryl held her back.

No one moved.

Rick looked around at the group briefly before Walking up to the girl.

The girl he had lost.

The girl he couldn’t save.

He raised his gun, and pulled the trigger.

Daryl seemed distant. Alone. More so than ever before.

He didn’t talk to you, or anyone, and if he did then he was yelling.

He yelled at Carol. You tried to talk to him about it but it was clear enough that he was already feeling guilty, and you didn’t press the subject.

Everyone else was dealing with the loss, too.

Beth was really struggling. She had fallen into a catatonic state over the loss of long dead family members, who she believed could have been saved.

You and Maggie were sitting at Beth’s bedside, making small talk in an attempt at lightening the mood, but it wasn’t working at all.

When Lori came into the room, announcing that Hershel and the others were back, it was a huge relief and some of the worried tension dropped.

The three of you rushed out to check on everyone: Carl and Lori immediately going to Rick, Maggie going to Glenn, Patricia going to Hershel to inform him of Beth’s state.

Daryl was on the outside of the group circle, and you stood by his side. He gave you a glance that was neither negative or positive, but something just to acknowledge your presence.

They all seemed fine but tense, and you didn’t know why until T-dog pointed out the extra body in the back seat.

“Who’s that?” He asked, pointing to the blindfolded, half couscous body limply laying against the open window.

Glenn sighed. “That’s Randall…”

Silents.

Your heart sank in your chest as you stared at the blindfolded person. Randall- your ‘friend’ who had led you out into the woods with guys- the person who had led you out to the woods for rape.

Shane started speaking up to Rick, Hershel defending and Glenn joining in the argument, but you couldn’t hear them anymore.

Your ears rang and your heart rate sped up in reminiscence of your time with Randall in the woods. You could almost feel it- their grip on your arm and hip- the cut down your arm burning again- the growling of Walkers behind you as you fled for your life.

Daryl started to walk over and get involved in their argument just to get Shane to shut up, when you caught his arm. He stopped, looking back at you as you stared at the ground, color draining from your face.

He turned to face you. “Wha’s wrong?”

You shook your head, swallowing. “Randall… He’s…” You look back at the limp blindfolded body in the back seat.

Daryl followed your gaze, letting you hold onto his arm.

“Ya know him?” He asked, watching the guy even though there was nothing to watch.

You shake your head, still trying to keep yourself from spiraling again.

“He…” Your voice dropped low enough only Daryl could hear.

“Randall tried to rape me.”

“We couldn’t have just left him there,” Rick hissed back at Shane. The two of them were talking in the barn, a private place for them to discuss what they should do with Randall.

“Yeah right- bring back the enemy who tried to shoot you-!” Shane started, but both men turned when the barn doors opened, then slammed shut, Daryl walking in.

“Hell of a mistake bringin’ that guy back,” Daryl said, glaring at both Rick and Shane, fists clenched at his side.

Shane cocked his head at Rick, hands on his hips. “Finally somethin’ we can agree on.”

Rick shook his head. “He would have died. We couldn’t have just-”

“No, ya could have, but ya didn’t,” Daryl said, his voice filled with anger and bitterness. “That son-of-a-bitch was the reason Y/n was runnin’ in the woods by herself.”

Rick turned to face Daryl. He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “He’s just a kid-”

“Damn it Rick he ain’t just a kid!” Daryl grunted, brows knitted together. “He-”

“He may have made bad choices but Y/n said it was five guys,” Rick said, trying to be the voice of reason. “So it wasn’t just him. Maybe he was just dragged along too-”

“No, Rick, he wasn’t just there for the damn ride,” Daryl hissed, his body physically tense. “That bitch sittin’ in the truck was part of it.”

Shane looked back and forth between the two men, rubbing his head once. “All the more reason to finish him now and not take out chances-”

“Will you shut up!” Rick hissed, getting closer to Shane. “We can’t just kill him!”

“Like hell!” Daryl yelled back. “That son-of-a-bitch tried to rape Y/n!”

Rick and Shane both turned to Daryl, who glared back at them. The knowledge of being almost raped had stayed between you and Daryl up to this point. The others knew about you being beaten up by some other guys in the woods, but not the severity of it all.

Shane went back to glaring at Rick.

Rick rubbed the bridge of his nose, walking away from them before circling back around.

“We can’t keep him here,” Shane hissed.

“I never said we were going to!” Rick glared, his hands returning to his hips. “But we can’t kill him. If we do that we are just like them.”

“Then what are we gonna do huh? You got some master plan up your sleeve? He knows where we are, we can’t just let him go-” Shane started.

“No, he doesn’t. He was blindfolded the whole way here, not to mention half conscious. He doesn't know where the farm is,” Rick said, then paused, thinking, eyes fixated on the ground. “We should tie him up, and drop him off somewhere.”

“Hell no! If he ever crossed paths with Y/n again-!” Daryl yelled, fists still clenched at his sides.

“Keep your personal feelings in check, Dixon,” Rick hissed.

Daryl resisted the urge to yell back, instead his voice was low. “You don’t know what the hell yer talkin’ about…”

Rick didn’t answer, and neither did Shane, though it was clear he wanted to.

“We blind fold him, and drive him out somewhere as soon as Hershel is done with his leg,” Rick said, his voice low.

Shane didn’t say anything.

Daryl waited a moment. “You take him far. Real far.”

Rick gave a curt nod. “As far as we can go…”

You were in your tent, as far away as possible from Randall who had been moved to the barn. Hershel was working on his leg.

Every now and then you would check on the zipper of your tent to make sure it was still sealed shut, and couldn’t help but glance at what you could see of the barn.

You had just looked out at the barn, only to find it was still shut and Daryl was approaching. The two of you shared your own little campground spot, even though the rest of the camp had pretty well accepted you into their group, you still hadn’t changed your tents location. It just felt safer where it was at…

You unzipped your tent, sitting down criss-cross to talk to him.

He could tell immediately by your expression that you were worried about Randall being here.

He leaned up against a tree that was next to his tent, crossbow still slung over one shoulder.

“They’ve got him tied up in tha barn,” He said, watching your expression. “Gonna fix up his leg then drop him off somewhere.”

You nodded slowly, waiting a long moment before speaking. “How… How long will he be here?”

Daryl shook his head. “Dunno. As long as it takes for Hershel to fix his damn leg.”

You swallowed, nodding.

He continued to watch you for a moment, but your eyes remained on the dirt ground in front of you.

“That bitch ain’t gonna hurt ya… Hell, he ain’t even gonna know you're here,” Daryl said, his voice low and gravely.

You nodded, letting out a breath slowly. “Let’s hope so…”

Daryl watched you for a moment longer. “He won’t. I’ll make sure of it...”

That night you couldn’t sleep at all. You were restless, tossing and turning more and more as the night went on. The few hours you did sleep was haunted by nightmares about Randall breaking his way out of the barn and clawing his way to you. Eventually you decided sleep wasn’t going to happen, at least not while Randall was here.

You looked out of your tents mesh window at the barn. There was a small light out where they had set up a watch duty. You knew there was no way Randall could get out of that barn, but the feeling was still there. The worry. The problem you had tried so hard to convince yourself wasn’t going to happen again was on your doorstep.

You unzipped your tent, finding your old plastic water bottle, pouring out a little to splash some of the cool water on your face. “Wha’ are you doin’?” A gravelly voice said, making you jump slightly.

“I can’t sleep,” You muttered back, just loud enough for him to hear over the crickets and peepers in the forest down the hill from the two of you.

He grunted. “Randall?” He muttered, sounding half asleep.

“Yeah…” You mutter, knowing he couldn’t see you if you nodded.

It was a moment before he spoke.

“Yer safe ya know…” He muttered, holding back a yawn as he sat up in his tent, looking out at you.

“I know…” You look out at the barn. “Just…”

He waited for an answer before realizing you weren’t going to continue. “Jus’ what?”

You shake your head. “Just… He’s here now… I never thought I would have to see or to deal with him again… And now he’s here. Showing back up just to haunt me all over…”

Daryl didn’t say anything.

“I know I should just get over it… It’s the damned apocalypse. Stuff like that… Rape…” The word was bitter on your tongue. “Is going to be normal. More normal than it already was.”

Daryl still didn’t say anything, he just listened to you speak.

“I need to stop thinking about it… Guess it’s my own damn fault for going out there with them in the first place…” You mutter.

“No,” Daryl said sternly. “Ain’t none of that your fault. Don’t you dare think like that either.”

You shake your head, looking at him. “I shouldn't have put myself in that situation… I should have just trusted my gut and-”

“Stop. None of it was ever yer fault. Thinkin’ like that, it sticks in yer head. Makes ya think things that aren't true,” Daryl insisted, staring at you through the darkness.

After a moment he spoke again, his voice more gentle than it was before. “Wasn’t your fault, and Randall ain’t gonna hurt you.”

You hesitated before nodding slowly.

“Your tent is straight across from mine, and it’s gonna stay that way. I’m not going anywhere, and I’ve got my crossbow ready if someone comes down here and needs a bolt up their ass,” He said.

You smiled a little, nodding again.

It was a moment before you spoke. “Thanks Daryl…”

Daryl grunted, giving a small nod, before laying back down on his back in his tent.

“What if Shane comes down here needing a bolt in his ass?” You chuckled to make sure he knew you were joking.

He huffed in a way that could have been considered a laugh. “Tha’ man needs a’ bolt in his ass anyways.”

You chuckled, laying back down in your tent. “Yeah he does…”

Daryl huffed again. “But I would put a’ bolt in anyone's ass for ya.”

You chuckled, curling up in your cool sleeping bag. “Thanks Daryl,” You yawned. “If I didn’t know better, I'd think that was a compliment.”

Daryl huffed again, not answering if it was or wasn’t.

It didn’t take long for you to fall back asleep, finally getting the rest your body and mind truly needed.

Part 5 coming soon!

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl x reader #norman reedus #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl #walking dead

[dixondystopia]

From the Forest: Part 3

Masterlist

~Ah yes, angst~

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, typical Walking Dead violence and language, angry Daryl.

Word count: 2,345

You woke up with a start- heart pounding in your chest and a cold sweat drenching your whole body. You sat up, taking in your surroundings quickly. The only sound was of your heart beating in your ears. You swallowed a few breaths of the night air, listening to the cicadas and crickets in the forest that was little ways down the hill from you.

Just a nightmare… Simple as that...

…But it seemed so real... The way Randall gripped your arm- Hunter pulling out that knife and cutting your stitches away- pulling you flesh against them as you screamed-

Snap.

Your head turns to the right towards the sound of a stick snapping in the darkness.

It was a figure, and it took you a panicked moment to realize it was Daryl.

“Wha’ are you doin’ up?” He questioned, standing there.

You shake your head, letting out a slow, unfortunately shaky breath. “Just… Couldn’t sleep.”

Daryl nods, walking over to his own tent.

“Why are you up?” You ask, swallowing.

“Watch duty,” He says, opening his tent and stepping inside. I was a moment later when you hear a sigh, and he opens his tent door, sitting inside but facing you.

“Why can’t ya sleep? Seems like you’ve been sleepin’ just fine ‘till now,” Daryl asks, running a hand over his tired face.

You shrug. “Just…” You hesitate.

It was a long moment before either of you spoke.

“Thinkin’ ‘bout those men… Aren’t ya,” He reasons.

You nod, then realize he couldn’t see that in the darkness, so you speak. “Yeah…”

Daryl waits a moment. This felt so awkward. He wasn’t the kind of person to openly talk, at least not willingly. The only reason he was talking with you know, was because he felt like you were his responsibility. He had saved you, brought you back here, but everyone else was weary of you. Shane downright hated you for no reason other than you were an outsider. You were Daryl’s responsibility now, at least while you were here.

“They didn’t… Do anything to ya, did they? Other than the cut on yer arm..?.”

“No… They didn’t… They didn’t actually do anything. Certainly tried though.”

Daryl grunts. “Basterds.”

You nod. “Basterds is right.”

Silents. Daryl chewed on the inside of his lip as the awkward feeling set in.

“Ya should get some sleep,” Daryl mutters.

You sigh, running a hand down your face. “I know.”

Silents.

Daryl sighed. “Then why don’t ya sleep.”

You shake your head. “It’s not… I just…”

Daryl watches you in silence.

Another silent moment between the two of you, only accompanied by the sounds of crickets. A slight breeze blew some strands of your hair around.

When Daryl spoke it was like an addition to the sounds of the forest.

“Stop thinkin’ ‘bout them. Stop thinkin’ ‘bout what almost happened,” Daryl said, his tone low and accent thick.

You think about it for a moment, not saying anything.

“This camp is safe… Shane might be an asshole and some of tha women are a pain to be around, but none of ‘em will hurt ya.”

You wait a moment more. “That’s good to know… Thanks…”

Daryl grunted, turning around and going into his own tent.

As he closes the tent flap, you hear him speak one more time.

“...If you ever see those men again… Best warn ‘em what Daryl Dixon’s gonna do to ‘em…”

“Hey, have you seen Daryl around?” You asked. It had been a couple of days later, your stitches healing smoothly and the people growing to accept you. Andrea, Beth, Maggie, and Glenn all liked you, and Carol was starting to think of you as her friend. At the very least a form of peace or distraction for the chaos and the empty feeling of missing her daughter. You personally thought of Daryl as your friend, too, though he wasn’t big on displaying anything and would never admit it out loud.

Carol, who was the first person you had found, paused. She was hanging laundry up on the closeline.

“I don’t think so…” She said, her voice naturally quiet. “Not sense this morning, when he went out looking for Sophia.”

You gave her a smile. “Thanks! Will you let me know when he comes back up? I’m going to ask him if he’ll teach me how to shoot… I have to leave as soon as this thing is fully healed…” You hold up your wrapped arm. It was getting much better, and the infection Hershel had been worried about was minor, easily kicked out with a few doses of medication, and you were well on your way to a recovery. “...And I need to be able to defend myself.”

Carol returned the small smile. “Sure, I can do that… We have other people around here who would be willing to teach you, though.”

You nodded, considering this, still smiling a little. “Yeah, but I think I'll ask Daryl first… I think he’s the only one who would be willing to teach an ‘outsider’.”

“Oh don’t worry too much about that outsider nonsense... Everyone around here just gets worked up by each other so easily… If Daryl is too busy, don’t be afraid to ask Rick or T-dog… I think Glenn could probably show you something, too,” Carol said, hanging a shirt up on the clothesline.

You give her a smile. “Thanks, I will ask one of them if he’s too busy…”

It was getting later and later in the day, and Daryl still wasn’t back. You had gone to Carol again, chatting with her a little while you waited for him to return. You were outside where everyone could keep an eye on you, so they didn’t mind you talking with her within the camp. Though, the only people still worried about letting you in were Shane and Lori, and a few others who had their own concerns.

There was a commotion at the edge of camp- Rick, T-dog, Shane, and Glenn all ran out to something at the edge of the forest. You and Carol were alarmed, but by the time you made it to the edge of the camp to see what the problem was, Andrea fired a shot from the top of the camper.

You looked up at her as she smiled, seeming proud of herself, all until Rick started panicking and yelling- the men dragging the body up.

As they got closer, you and Carol recognized the body at the same time: a bloody and wounded Daryl Dixon…

It had taken a few days for him to heal. He had explained to everyone about finding Sophia’s doll, the horse getting spooked and bucking him off, and that was pretty much it. Andrea had apologized, he and Carol chatted, and you had said hello a few times, but otherwise he hadn’t really talked to anyone. He seemed distant. Bitter. As soon as he was healed up enough, he moved his tent farther away from anyone.

Daryl was giving you the cold shoulder too: even though you were the only one who could get full length conversations out of him.

Daryl’s thoughts were somewhere else entirely; Merle. That’s all Daryl could think about. Merle: his brother who had been handcuffed to a roof- left for dead and forced to cut off his own hand. Merle, Daryl’s only brother, who he trusted… Merle, who had spoken to him in the woods, telling him all about what the other campers really thought about him. What Rick thought. How T-dog locked his only family to a roof. It was burning him up inside. He couldn't talk to anyone without thinking of that moment on the cliff; when Merle was there when no one else was, even if he hadn’t truly helped.

Of course Daryl knew it was all in his head, but every word of it was true. They left his brother behind and didn’t even care. He believed every word. He believed Merle.

You were walking back to your tent after reading some books with Beth, seeing Daryl a few feet away, fixing something on his crossbow.

You watched him for a moment before approaching.

“Hi,” You said, sitting down in the grass across from him.

He looked up at you before continuing to work at the metal hinges, tightening something that had loosened.

You continued watching his fingers move as he tightened the bolts, the two of you sitting in silence.

After a moment, he put down his bow on his lap looking at you annoyed. “Wha’ do you want.”

You shrug. “Just coming to chat.”

“Don’t wanna chat.”

“I noticed.”

“Then why are ya still botherin’ me.”

You thought about it. Why were you trying? He made it more than clear over the past few days that he doesn’t want you around, so why bother…

“What happened out there?” You ask, pulling yourself out of your own thoughts.

Daryl looked up at you again, brows frowned. “I already explained it,” he grunted, “Damn horse bucked me off and I fell.”

“And?”

“And?”

You watched him. “You’ve been pushing everyone out since it happened.”

Daryl glared at you before continuing to work on his bow. “I don’t got time for their shit.”

“Yeah, I noticed. Did someone say something to you? Shane or Rick or…?”

Daryl shot you a look. “They didn’t say nothin’. Mind your own damn business.”

“Then why are you so upset? You’ve been so bitter- moving your tent, not talking to anyone-”

He stood up, swinging his crossbow over his shoulder. “I don’t got time to go into my feelin’s with some girl who doesn’t know jack,” He spat.

You stood up too as he started to walk away, heading out towards the woods.

“I saw the scars you know,” You say, just loud enough for him to hear at his distance.

He stopped in his tracks before turning his head, glaring over his shoulder at you.

“When Hershel was fixing up your wound… I don’t think anyone else noticed.”

He continued to stare you down over his shoulder.

“People have hurt you… Haven’t they…”

Daryl turned around, walking towards you a few steps.

“Listen ta me, little girl, I don’t got time for none of your shit. You don’t know nothin’ ‘bout me. Go mind your own damn business and leave me the fuck alone,” He hissed, at you before turning back around and storming off into the woods.

You stood there, expressionless, for longer than you should have…

You were in your tent, trying to kick the Georgia heat by laying on the damp tarped floor. With your back against the cool surface you sighed, letting your eyes flutter closed as you traced shapes on the ground.

It had been two days since Daryl had yelled at you, and the two of you hadn’t spoken.

Shane was insistent that you were to leave tomorrow, even though Carol and Dale had insisted that you were a part of the group now.

It was your last day on the farm… And you were spending it alone, laying on the floor.

“Hey, Girly,” A gruff voice spoke from the entrance to your tent. You jumped, having not heard him approach. You looked at Daryl, sitting up on your elbow.

“What?” You asked, running a hand through your hair out of habit.

“Shane’s makin’ ya leave tomorrow, ain’t he,” Daryl said, squatting down to look into the tent.

You nodded. “Yeah… Rick is mutual about it. Carol and Beth want me to stay. Shane downright hates me.”

Daryl gave a cut nod. “Carol said ya wanted to learn how ta use a gun.”

You thought back. You had mentioned to Carol that you were looking for Daryl to learn, but when he came back he was injured and in no condition to teach. You had forgotten about it after the fight you and Daryl had.

Nodding, you speak. “Yeah, I was looking for you the other day before you got injured.”

He nods. “You still wanna learn?”

You nod slowly. “Yeah, I have to before I leave.”

Daryl grunted, leaving your tent and walking off. “Com’on then…”

You hurriedly followed him. “Wait- you're willing to teach me?”

Daryl grunted again, walking over to his tent, grabbing out two pistols from a bag. He had to talk Dale into letting him have them, but easily won him over by saying he was going to teach you to shoot before you left.

“Headin’ into the grounds Shane was usin’ to teach Andrea n’ Carl,” Daryl said, walking off towards the woods.

You followed him at a distance. You trusted him… But after that fight…

You stopped walking to the woods with him.

He noticed, and turned around watching you. “Change yer mind?”

You didn’t say anything, fingers scrunching and un-scrunching a little.

He watched you for a while before the realization hit him. Last time you were invited into the woods by some guys…

Daryl walked up to you, holding one of the guns out in his hands, keeping eye contact with you.

He opened the ammo compartment, displaying that it had bullets inside.

“It’s loaded with ‘bout 10 bullets,” He closed it again with a click, hitting the hilt of the gun with his palm to make sure it stayed in place.

“Basics. Don’t point it at anything’ you aren't gonna shoot,” He said. “Shoot ta mean it, waste ah ammo otherwise.”

He held it out to you keeping eye contact with a firm expression.

You looked into his piercing blue eyes for a while before looking down at his hand and taking the gun slowly.

Daryl kept eye contact. “I ain’t gonna hurt ya… Not that kinda person.”

You held the gun in your hands for a while, looking down at it, before looking back up at him. You gave him a small smile and a nod.

The two of you headed out to the forest, and this time, you were actually going to learn how to shoot by someone you were growing to trust…

~Hope you're enjoying the series!~

Masterlist

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl x reader #norman reedus #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl #walking dead #daryl x y/n #daryl x you

[dixondystopia]

From the Forest: Part 2

Masterlist

~Daryl leads you to the farmhouse to get stitches~

~This is a slow story, more romantic stuff later on ;)

Warnings: Typical Walking Dead violence, swearing, arguing.

Word count: 3,254

You and Daryl walked through the woods together, you stumbling behind, head still fuzzy from exhaustion and legs still feeling like half done jello.

You wanted to know a little more about him and his camp before you went to them, already being too tired to escape if you had to. So after a bit of quiet, you sparked up a conversation, deeming like the archer wasn’t the talking type and wouldn’t start it himself.

“So who’s the girl you're looking for?” You ask from behind him.

Daryl grunted. “Name’s Sophia. She’s the kid of one of the women in our group. Got separated by a Walker and got lost.”

“Ah. How long has she been missing?”

“Week-and-a-half at least.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, none of your problems.”

You shrug, leaning against a tree momentarily as you stumble along. “Doesn’t mean I can’t feel bad for her… You the dad?”

Daryl made a noise somewhere between a scoff and a huff of a laugh. “Nah, I met her and ‘er mom just a few months ago.”

“Sorry, I wasn't trying to assume anything.”

“Notta big deal,” He grunted.

Silents.

“So… What kind of people are in your group? How many?” You ask.

Daryl glances over his shoulder, looking at you suspiciously. He didn’t respond.

“Look, I'm not trying to spy on your camp or anything, I just want to know the kind of people there before I go. I’ve been to my share of bad camps before and I don’t want to get dragged into another,” You say, and stop walking.

Daryl kept walking. “Up to you If you wanna come to get yer arm fixed. Just don’t be thinkin’ you're gonna get to stay. One night to get that stitched up, and tha’s it.”

You start walking again, staying behind him. “That still doesn’t answer my question.”

He paused for a moment as he walked before speaking.

“We’ve got some police officers. Women, children, some farmer types.”

You relaxed a little. If there was one kind of person that would still be good during the apocalypse, it would be the police… Or at least you found comfort in the thought of it.

“Good to know.”

Daryl grunted. “Wha’ about you.”

“What about me?”

“Who are ya?”

You thought about it.

“I’m just me, I guess… I would consider myself a good person. I have- well, had- a lot of weird interests… I had a family, too. Few friends. Lost them during the first wave of outbreak,”

Once the silence settled in Daryl started to feel awkward. He didn’t know what exactly to say, so he went with his best guess and what was right.

“ ‘M sorry.”

You smiled slightly to yourself at the irony. “Don’t be. It’s none of your problems.”

By the time the two of you came out of the woodworks into a field, you could see the farmhouse and campsite up on the hill. It looked nice: a large house and a barn, an old shed type of thing, tents and a camper.

You could see people up ahead keeping watch, one on top of the camper and another standing at the edge of the camp watching the two of you closely. It was still too far away to see faces or the kind of people they looked like, though.

As you got closer the person on the camper, a blond woman, called to the others. Another woman with a mostly shaved head came running out, getting stopped by the man watching you closely from the edge of the camp. The man held out his arm, said something you could not hear from your distance, and the woman covered her face before turning away and disappearing into the camper.

Another man, bulkier with an almost completely shaved head, came out of the camper, hand on his hip, walking towards the top of you.

“Who the hell’s this?” the broad-shouldered man shouted as he approached, and the second man caught his shoulder.

“Shane, wait-” The second man started, but the broad-shouldered man, Shane, shoved it off.

You could see Daryl tense up and square his shoulders more as they approached, looking even more bitter, and somehow slightly bigger.

When the two men were in front of you and Daryl, all of you stopped walking and stood.

Shane gave Daryl a look that said everything he needed to know.

“ 'Er name’s Y/n,” Daryl grunted. “Just here for Hershel to give ‘er some stitches.”

You held up your wrapped arm to show them, standing slightly behind Daryl. The two men who had approached the two of you were intimidating enough, but Shane was really, really glaring at you now. You shank a little from behind Daryl.

Shane’s eyes shifted from Daryl, to you, then back to Daryl as he spoke. “The hell are you thinking?” Shane glared, and the other man caught his shoulder again.

“Shane, cool off,” He hissed, and Shane walked off, rubbing his head before circling back around again.

“Daryl I just think you like causing havoc- keepin’ up this desperate search for a dead girl and then bringin’ back randos?!” Shane yelled, squaring up to Daryl again. Daryl squared up to him, glaring.

“Hey! I’m getting close to finding the girl-” Daryl squared up to him as the second man tried to push them apart.

“Are you? Really!? You just made Carol think you found Sophia by bringing another chick up here- she thought it was her girl!” Shane spat. Daryl was slightly taken aback, but didn’t show it.

“Wasn’t my intention prick!” Daryl hissed back.

The other man got himself between the two men, pushing them apart.

“Both of you cut it out,” He hissed, brows knitted together in a glare. He looked at Shane, giving him a warning look, before turning back to Daryl.

“I'm going to assume you had a damn good reason for bringing a stranger back here,” The man said quietly, looking at you before back at Daryl.

“Just needs ta get ‘er arm fixed up, then she’ll leave,” Daryl said, matching the man’s tone.

The man watched you for a moment, then took a breath. “You know we’re on thin ice with Hershal already…” He muttered to Daryl, who gave a curt nod.

“Just needs stitches…” Daryl muttered, matching his tone again.

He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, waiting a moment before speaking. He looked over to you and your bloodied arm wrap. “Fine. Take her to Hershel.”

Shane looked outraged. “Big mistake Rick! We start letting rando’s in who knows what’ll happen!”

“Shuddup Shane,” Rick hissed. “We don’t have time for your bullshit.”

Shane glared at him. “I save your boy and this is how you repay me? By putting Carl and Lori in dangor again?!”

“I-I won’t be a problem… Seriously, just let me get the stitches, then I'll leave…” You say, interrupting them before they could keep arguing. You had seen enough men argue that you knew that interrupting them usually ended badly, but you could sense that the argument was just going to keep going.

Shane glared at you, rubbing his head again before turning and storming off.

Rick sighed, looking back to Daryl. “Take her up to Hershal… She’s not staying the night unless she absolutely has to…”

Daryl nodded, and began walking up the hill. You followed behind him, holding your swollen and painful arm.

You were hoping to trust this place, but after what you saw between the men Rick and Shane, you doubted the safety of this camp just as much as your last one.

Daryl led you inside the farmhouse, going to the doorway of a small bedroom. There was a little boy in the bed, shirtless with a patch on his stomach. A man with white hair was over the boy, a stethoscope on his stomach, shifting over to his heart.

The boy had his eyes open, and he was talking with someone else, a woman with black hair, sitting in a chair on the other side of his bed. She immediately looked up to you and Daryl.

She gave a small smile to Daryl before noticing you, and she tilted her head in confusion. She looked back at Daryl with confusion, brow’s frowned.

“Hershel,” Daryl grunted, and the silver haired man looked up, taking the stethoscope out of his ears, looking at Daryl.

Daryl nodded once. “Gotta girl that needs stitches.”

Daryl then looked at you, and you stepped into the room holding your swollen arm.

Hershel sighed, looking you up and down. “I don’t think I've seen you before.”

“I don’t think I have, either,” The woman said, looking at Daryl for answers, seeming slightly irritated.

“ 'Er name’s Y/n. Just needs some stitches, then she’ll leave,” He said.

The boy was watching you then Daryl. “Any luck with Sophia…?” He asked. You looked at him. He sounded so young.

Daryl shook his head. The boy looked disappointed.

“I’m sure we’ll find her… Right?” The woman said, looking back at Daryl, running a thumb over the boy's hand.

Daryl nodded. He turned back to you. “Stay with them. Be back in a bit.”

And with that, he turned and left, leaving you slightly confused.

The woman sighed, seeming to notice your confusion. “Sorry, he’s like that.”

You shake your head. “It’s ok…”

The woman nodded. “My name is Lori by the way, and this is my son, Carl.”

Carl gave you a tired smile.

You nodded. “I’m Y/n. Nice to meet you both.”

Hershel stood up, grabbing a bag of supplies. “We’ll work on this in the other room…” he muttered, then looked back at Lori. “Your boy sounds fine. He’s well on his way to recovery.”

Lori looked relieved. “Thank you.”

Hershel nodded. “No problem…” He turned to you. “Let’s get that arm stitched up.”

Daryl walked into the camper, finding Carol in the back, knees tucked to her chest, forehead resting on her arms.

She looked up from her spot on the floor, her face red and tear streaked. Daryl watched her for a moment, expressionless.

Carol took a breath, burying her head in her hands again, wiping off her face.

Daryl stood, watching her.

“Did… Did you find any leads on Sophia?” She muttered, looking up at him, her voice sounding weak and broken. Daryl hesitated before shaking his head slowly.

Carol took another deep breath, running a hand across her face.

Silents settled over the camper.

“I haven’t found your girl…” Daryl muttered, his voice low and gravely. “But I will… Promise.”

Carol looked up at him, her face saddened, watching him before she nodded.

“Thank you…” She muttered.

Daryl gave a small nod, then left the camper without another word…

The stitches didn’t take as long as you had thought, but definitely longer than you had hoped. They’re supply of painkillers was low, so the whole process was done without. Hershel made sure to tell you that this wasn’t because you were an outsider, and if anyone else needed this process they wouldn’t get painkillers either. He also explained that most of them had been used on Carl when he had gotten shot.

You couldn’t watch him doing the stitches without feeling sick, so instead you distracted yourself by looking around the room, out the windows, and talking to Hershel. You learned quite a bit about the people in the camp, about Carol losing Sophia, and the showdown constantly going on between the policemen Shane and Rick. Hershel thought it was fair to warn you about them in case you ended up staying with their camp.

Hershel was just finishing up your stitches when Rick came into the dinning room where the two of you were seated. He watched for a moment, hands on his hips, running a hand over his sweaty face before sighing.

“Y/n, right?” He said to you, and you nodded. “How’d you cut yourself? Walkers or…”

“No, not Walkers. People. Bad people…” You said, trailing off. “Hershel mentioned you were a policeman? Glad to know there are still some of you around.”

Rick nodded once. “About those bad people. How many? Where are they?”

You shake your head. “I’ve explained this all to Daryl before he invited me to come get fixed up. It’s a camp full of them, but it was only a few of them that did this. I don’t doubt the whole camp is like that though, no one there took the world breaking down so well.”

“The world is not broken down,” Hershel said, giving you a wary eye as he tied a knot in your stitches. “Just sick for now. We will rebuild into something new, just like we have throughout all of history.”

You nodded, giving him a small smile. “You're right… And I really hope we do.”

Hershel watched you, seeming slightly happy to have someone agree with him for once.

You sigh, turning your attention back to Rick. “As for how far away they are, I don’t know. I was running from them all night before I ran into Daryl… Not to mention the travel time from their camp to when I started running… I’m not sure where their camp is, either. I hadn’t been there for very long, and I’m not used to this area.”

Rick sighs, nodding, sounding disappointed. “Alright then…”

Hershel spoke up after a bit. “Your arm isn’t in a very good condition… How long did you have it unwrapped, and was it wrapped only in this…?” He gestured to your bloody shirt. You realize you were still wearing Daryl’s shirt, too, but you didn’t have time to think about giving it back to him right now.

“Hard to say… I think I ran a couple hours before getting it covered. I couldn’t risk stopping when they were chasing me.”

Rick’s brows frowned. “Chasing you?”

You nod slowly. “Chasing me. Five guys, leading me out into the woods saying they were going to teach me how to use a gun, but really they were just going to use me.”

Rick nodded, understanding. He had dealt with this kind of thing before the apocalypse, being a police officer let you see first hand how bad people can be.

Hershel broke the silents. “And you wrapped it in this?” He held it up with tweezers. It was dirty and coated with dried blood, some spots still damp with the foul red stuff. You let a sigh escape your lips, and nodded.

Hershel sighed. “The possibility of infection is high, then. Can’t know for sure yet, but with the swelling in your arm and the dirtiness of the wrap…. Chances are pretty high it’s infected. I can’t use disinfectants like rubbing alcohol with how deep this is, either.”

Your eyes widened slightly and your brows frowned. Rick rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Do we have any medications for that?” Rick asks, his hands returning to his hips.

“I do. I can give you something to help with the inflammation, but it would be wise to stay a couple of nights just to make sure it won’t get any worse… Blood poisoning is possible, and is going to be difficult to treat without the right equipment,” Hershel said.

You swallowed. Rick sighed.

Rick looked at Hershel, then you. Hershel raised his eyebrows.

Rick let out a slow sigh. “You can stay with us for a couple of days… Just until you heal enough to be out on your own.”

You let out a small breath of relief. “Thank you… I’ll try to help out however I can,” You say, looking between Rick and Hershel.

“You need to rest your arm. Don’t strain it, or it’ll get worse,” Hershel said. You nodded.

Rick nodded. “I’ll talk to the others and see where we can put you for the night…”

It took the group a while before they decided where to put you. They had an extra tarp they had rigged up as a tent, and a spare sleeping mat for you. The only issue was where in the camp to put you.

After a half hour discussion, accompanied by some yelling from Shane and some eye rolling from Lori, some good points from Dale and some counter points from Andrea, they finally decided to put you away from the camp, on the outskirts of their borders, next to Daryl’s set up.

Shane's argument was that if Daryl brought you here, you should get to sleep next to him, and be his problem. This led to some small arguments, before finally the group decided it was right.

Daryl and Rick begrudgingly agreed, and soon your tent was set up a little ways from Daryl's tent. Short enough away that if something happened Daryl would be there, and far enough from the rest of the group to keep them from worrying.

Daryl and Glenn helped you set up a tent there. You would have helped, but Glenn made sure you didn’t because of your arm.

By the end of the day, you were dead tired from everything that had happened. You were hungry, too. You had been given water shortly after your stitches were done, but not any food yet.

The rest of the camp was by a fire, eating dinner and making their way to bed.

Your stomach rolled and grumbled as you laid in your tent, and you used a finger on your good hand to trace circles on the floor. You couldn’t exactly ask them for food: they had made it more than clear you were a burden already.

Footsteps began approaching your tent, and you stuck your head out to see who it was. It was Daryl, approaching your tent in the darkness, something in his hands.

Right as you could tell what it was in the absence of light, he handed it to you.

“Here. Eat,” He said, giving you a can of beef raviolis with a spoon sticking out the top before sitting down in front of his own tent, wiping down some arrows dirtied from his most recent hunt.

“Thanks…” You muttered, trying to eat politely, but your hunger took over and you finished it in a hurry, scraping the bottom of the can to get all the excess sauce.

You watched him for a moment, his hands working to clean off all the blood and mud from the arrow tips.

After a while, you spoke. “Why did you bring me food? You didn’t have to…” You say, still holding the can in your hands.

Daryl grunted. “I ain’t gonna let you starve just ‘cause they don’t want ya around.”

You nodded, watching him in the dark. “Thanks…”

Daryl grunted. “You say that a lot.”

You chuckled. “Yeah, kind of my thing I guess.”

You watched him for a moment longer.

“Seriously though, I mean it. Pretty much everyone else I've run into sense the world ended wouldn’t have done that for me… Not just the food thing, but saving me from a Walker, bringing me back to your camp to get stitches…” You say.

He waited a moment, cleaning off the last of the arrow heads.

“Notta big deal…”

You chuckled. “It is for me, you saved my life.”

Daryl grunted, putting away the arrows. “Just focus on gettin’ some sleep… Must be exhausted.”

You nod. Exhausted was an understatment. “Yeah, I am…” You crawl back into your tent, speaking to him one more time before closing the tent flap.

“Good night, Daryl…”

Masterlist

#daryl dixon #norman reedus #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl x reader #daryl fanfiction #walking dead #the walking dead #walking dead fanfiction

[dixondystopia]

From the Forest: part 1

Masterlist

~Meeting Daryl in the woods~~Daryl Dixon x Female Reader~ This is just set up for the rest of the story :)

Warnings: Typical Walking Dead violence/abuse, references of past and current abuse.

Word count: 2747

-The divider is my own-

“Yo, Y/n!” A voice called out to you from the path.

You were out washing laundry the old fashioned way, a bucket full of water and a washboard, squatted down next to the creek. Your arms were soaked to the elbows, your short sleeved shirt speckled with water droplets that had already sunk into the fabric.

Your head turned to see a guy walking down the path to you, a familiar yet not entirely friendly face. It was the spunky ‘kid’ from your camp, and you searched his features in an attempt to remember his name. Short black hair, skinny, rounded face but his cheekbones were sunken. Ahh yes, the kid who always seemed to be sporting a black eye, Randall.

He smiled at you. “Hunter wanted me to tell you that we are headed out a bit for some target practice… You mentioned you wanted to learn, so I guess he remembered that.”

You watched him for a moment, smiling. You were weary about this camp. You had only been here for a few days, but some of the guys here did not seem like the friendly type. Most of the women were decent though, and you had actually made ok friends with some of the wives here. But hey, a little target practice would protect you from the randos right?

“Great! Who all is going?” You ask, turning back to the washboard and continuing to scrub down your clothes.

“Just a few of us, me, Hunter, Gabel…” Randall said. “And a couple other guys I don’t know the names of.”

You nodded. “What about Mavis and Margaret? They mentioned they wanted to learn.”

“I dunno, they might be coming,” Randall said. “Hunter can tell you the details, I've got to finish my chores. We’re headed out in an hour.”

You looked at him. “An hour? It’ll be dark by the time we make it back.”

Randall nodded, seeming slightly hesitant. “Yeah, but they wanted to go huntin’ first thing in the morning… Right now is the only time they could fit it in.”

You hesitated.

“Look, you want to learn or not?” Randall said. “If you do, meet us by the supply tent in 45 minutes…” And with that, Randall left you sitting there.

You looked down at your wet clothes against the washboard. You really did want to learn: it was the only way you would be able to defend yourself out here. Not to mention, the people in the camp hadn’t given you a reason to doubt them before. If they thought the best time to go out was now, who were you to argue?

40 minutes later, you met Randall by the supply tent. You had gotten changed out of your wet garments and into more durable clothes, and a pair of hiking boots someone had found that was surprisingly in your size.

It was only Randall and a couple other guys there so far, people you didn’t know the names of.

Randall smiled, getting off of the truck bed he was sitting in and walking over to you. “Well aren't you early.”

You returned the smile out of politeness. “Better early then late,” You say, looking at the other, bigger guys standing there. “What guns will we be learning with?”

They exchanged a look with Randall, and Randall looks back to you as he walks over next to the guys. “Just some basic stuff, pistols, rifles if you're feeling brave. Hell, even a crossbow if ya want it.”

You chuckle, leaning against the truck next to him. “Crossbow would be quiet.”

“Yeah, but ya have to hunt down the arrows and that’s a whole thing,” Randall pointed out.

You nodded your head in a so-so manner. “True.”

You and Randall continued the small talk for a while. It was nice to chat with someone about simple things, and the longer you talked the more you trusted Randall. He was just a funny, spunky kid from no-wheres-vill, who probably couldn’t have survived a day without this camp. That didn’t matter though, he was still an ok guy to chat with.

Soon another guy, Hunter, the ring-leader of the camp, approached the truck with another guy behind him. “Y'all ready?”

The other two guys nodded with a smile, and Randall gave a thumbs up.

Hunter turned his attention to you. “You ready to learn?”

You nodded, “Yes, more than ready.”

Hunter gave a curt nod. “Good. Let’s roll out!” He announced, and the guys gave a whoop of agreement.

How you got stuck in the backseat, you didn’t know. Randall was on your left, some other guy on your right. Hunter was driving, his second in command in the passenger side. The last guy was begrudgingly in the truck bed, watching the grass go behind them as they drove.

Being surrounded by the big guys was making you uncomfortable enough, not to mention their smell. It was clear to tell that they hadn’t bathed in at least a month. Randall kept looking over at you with a small smile, which was nice in a weird way. From what you had seen today, and around the camp, he really did just seem like a spunky kid getting dragged along in all of the bigger guys stuff. Like a sidekick almost.

It was a half an hour before Hunter pulled the car to a stop, removing the keys and shoving them into his pocket. The truck had driven through a field before finally passing some trees. When the trees got thicker and thicker, turning into a forest, they parked.

Everyone got out of the vehicle, grabbing out some guns. Actually, you counted five guns, but there were six of you. That struck you as odd, but figured that you didn’t all need one at once.

It was another half our hike before you all made it to a small clearing. It was one large cleared out circle, a small pile of ash in the middle. This was one of their campsites for hunting.

You smiled, breathing in the smell of fresh air. It was heading towards dusk now, and the whole forest was getting darker.

“Now you gotta be careful, don’t go wandering, this forest is full o’ Walkers,” Hunter said, and the other guys chuckled. You didn’t respond. Was that supposed to be a joke?

“So where do we start?” You asked, and a couple of them smirked.

Hunter nodded his head to the side before stepping back into the middle of the clearing. “Come over here and we’ll show you how to load one.”

Randall was behind you, hands on his hips with a small smile.

You glanced around, taking a cautious step forward, following Hunter.

Your internal dangor radar began going off as Hunter looked at you, a smirk on his face as he stepped slightly closer. Before you could do anything, he took a hold of your arm in a hard grip, putting his face close into yours. His other hand snaked down, holding your hip.

“Hey! What are you?!” You struggled against his hold, only making his grip harder, his knuckles turning white, your hand tingling as the blood flow was cut off.

You looked around at the other guys, who were approaching you now. You looked towards Randall with panic, but he was still smiling.

Flight or flight kicked in immediately- your breath and heart rate speeding up, eyes wide with fear.

You sent your knee up into Hunter's groin, slamming it between his legs.

He immediately let go, crumpling the ground.

One of the other guys took a grip on your other arm, pulling out a knife from his pocket. Before he could do anything with it you yanked your arm free, catching his knife in the process, the blade running down your arm, leaving a large cut. It immediately started bleeding and the pain set it.

You turned and started to run, someone catching a fistful of your shirt. You turned on your heel, turning your hips and punching him square in the face.

Randall reached for you himself, and you ran.

You ran, crashing through a set of thorny vines, cutting up your legs through your pants.

“Where you goin’ girly!!” One of them yelled, and it was followed up by another guy laughing.

“Tons o’ Walkers out there girl!!” Another yelled. They were whooping like animals.

You ran, feet coming down against the ground hard with each step.

They were right behind you. You could hear them.

You passed one, maybe two Walkers who were attracted to all the noise, but instead of going after you they went after the loud men chasing you.

You heard gunfire, and your hands immediately covered your head, ducking as you ran. They were shooting at Walkers, but you didn’t want to get caught in the firing.

The forest was getting darker and darker.

You could hear stray animals in the distance coming to life in the night, owls, dogs, Walkers… But more importantly the people behind you, chasing after you. The people who had lured you into the woods just to use you then discard you…

The sun…

Finally…

You could tell by the brightness of the forest that it was getting to be daybreak.

Your running had turned into walking, then finally desperate stumbling throughout the night.

The men had given up following you after an hour or so, hopefully heading back to their camp.

Exhaustion was setting in now, your feet sent sharp pains through your body, and you felt weak with blood loss from your arm. You had taken off your shirt, wrapping it around your arm desperately in an attempt to keep it from bleeding out… But it was soaking through your shirt slowly.

You shivered again. It was Georgia, so the warmth of the day would be back in no time, but being in just a sports bra was making you cold and exposed.

Your head felt fuzzy as you wobbled along.

Footsteps… Behind you?

Growling. Groaning. The hiss of a desperate long dead thing searching for its next meal.

You stumbled somewhat faster, seeming like a toddler desperately staggering about to keep from falling.

One root- boot getting caught- and you fell to the ground with a groan, rolling onto your back, trying to catch your breath as the Walker stumbled above you, its drooling maw opening and closing as it hissed.

You squint your eyes shut, holding your hands up, bracing for the impact of the Walker above you…

Thunk.

You opened your eyes as the world started spinning in circles, the Walker collapsed on the ground, an arrow sticking out from its mangled eye socket.

You look up, taking breaths as the world kept doing its pirouettes.

All you saw was a figure- a silhouette of a person as the sun was rising behind them.

You heard the voice of a man, his tone low and accent thick, as the world faded away in a dance of swirls.

“Ya’ ok…?”

Birds… Light…Trees?...

The world slowly came into view, your eyes fluttering open. You took a slow moment, watching the birds hop around in the trees above you before you fully came into consciousness.

You sat up slowly, wincing once, looking over at your arm. It was wrapped in a chunk of fabric, your torn shit, but better tied together so it wasn’t bleeding anymore.

“Ya’ bit?” A husky male voice asks, and your head turns towards him, eyes focusing against the brightness.

It was a man. He was holding a crossbow, an arrow clicked into place ready to fire, pointed at the ground. He had a small amount of stubble, squinted eyes, and unwashed brown hair. He was wearing a vest. It was buttoned up, but it was clear that he wasn’t wearing anything under it. His pants looked pretty scuffed up, too.

You watched him for a moment, taking in what he looked like, deciding if he was a threat.

“Ya’ bit?” He repeated, a little more forcefully this time.

“No,” You muttered. You were startled by your own voice, it was hoarse, your throat dry.

“Scratches? What are they from,” He grunted, watching you from above.

You squint, thinking back bitterly. “Men.”

He squinted at you. “Men…?”

“Not Walkers if that’s what you're asking…” You mutter, swallowing nothing. Your whole mouth was dry.

“Ya’ sure? The one on your arm, what was it cut by?” He says hesitantly.

“A knife, I think… The ones on my legs were from thorns,” You say.

He gives a curt nod, seeming to believe you. He bends down next to a tree, grabbing a canteen you hadn’t noticed was there before. He hands it to you with a nod.

Your eyes widen at the sight. You didn’t want to accept it from a stranger, but your thirst took over. You unscrew the cap with your good but still shaky hand, swallowing down a few gulps of water. You lower it from your lips with a satisfied sigh.

“Thanks.”

He nods. “Ya got a name?”

“Y/n.”

“Y/n…” He repeats. “Why did they attack ya?”

You shake your head with a sigh.

He doesn’t ask you to answer again, just waits.

You look over at the wrappings on your arm. It looked much better than when you did it, and it was wrapped together sturdily. For the first time you notice that you were also wearing a shirt. It was a red-orange button up, way too big for you and smelling of sweat and mud.

You use your good hand to hold the bottom of the shirt in gesture.

“This is yours?” You ask.

He nods.

“You fixed my arm wrap?”

He nods again.

You wait a moment before speaking. This was the first time anyone had actually taken care of you since the apocalypse began. You had a family before… But now…

“Thanks…” You mutter.

He nods, accompanied by a grunt.

“Why did you do it? You could have let that Walker eat me and not waste your time,” You ask, watching him.

“I ain’t like that. Couldn’t just leave ya for dead,” He says, shifting his crossbow over his shoulder, deeming you not a threat. And even if you were, you couldn’t do much of anything in your condition anyways.

“I’m lookin’ for someone, a girl,” He says. He holds out his hand in a gesture of a child's height. “ 'Bout yay high, brown hair, carries ‘round a doll.”

You shake your head. “I haven’t seen any little girls around.”

He nods. “Those men coulda gotten ‘er?”

“Doubtful… They're miles away by now…”

He grunts. “How many of em?”

You shake your head, sighing. “I don’t know… Pretty large camp… I had only been there a few days.”

“How long you been runnin’? How far away is their camp?”

You shrug. “I ran all night… They drove us there… Hard telling.”

He grunts. “Not planning on going back are ya?”

You shake your head. “No way in hell.”

“What did they do to ya?”

“Those guys… They tried to…” You suddenly found yourself self conscious of how pained your voice sounded. This wasn’t the first time men had attempted doing that to you since world broke down. You cleared your throat with a small cough. “They tried to use me. Five guys. They said we were going out for a lesson on how to shoot.”

He nods, brows frowning. “Worlds even more full men like them than it used ta be.”

You nod, feeling exposed.

He watches you for a moment longer. “Family? Friends? A group other than them?”

You shake your head as he speaks. “I’ve got nothing.”

He watches you for a moment longer, picking up the canteen and hanging it from his belt. “Can ya walk?”

You lean against a tree for support and stand upright. Your legs still felt like jelly from all that running, but you could walk. You nod.

He grunts, turning around, crossbow in his hands. “Come with me. We gotta medic that can get ya fixed up and on yer way.”

You blink, walking behind him. “A medic? You have a group?”

He grunts, nodding once.

“Wait- what’s your name?” You ask, stumbling along, trying not to trip on any large sticks or roots again.

The archer grunts, glancing back at you momentarily before focusing on his surroundings, keeping an eye out for people or Walkers.

“The name’s Daryl. Daryl Dixon…”

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