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#merle dixon
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D.D. | Shane's Girl
Part Six | Masterlist | Buy me a coffee
Summary: Daryl Dixon knows he shouldn’t be thinking about you when he’s alone at night in his tent. Hell, he shouldn’t even be looking at you throughout the day. You’re not his. You’re Shane’s girl. But Daryl doesn’t like the way Shane treats you. And he certainly doesn’t like how you’re forced to play ‘loving girlfriend’ to a man with eyes for another woman at the camp.
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x female!Reader
Warnings: Shane Walsh sucks, unedited (I will get to it later, I promise)
Word Count: 1.2K
Author’s Note: Oof—alright, it's been a hot second, everybody. Apologies for going MIA for a while (life, y'know?). I haven't forgotten about this fic and I know that none of you have forgotten about it based on the amount of notes and messages I get (which I appreciate greatly). Thanks for sticking it out with me guys. Excited for you all to see what I have planned in the coming chapters. In the meantime, let me know what y'all think of this one & let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist.
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“Fuck!”
The expletive escapes your lips before you can think twice about it. You nervously look around the camp, searching for Carl and Sophia. The last thing you need is for Lori and Carol to get on your case because you accidentally taught the children swear words. After realizing that neither of them is in earshot, you let out a sigh of relief. 
You look down at the garment in your lap. Shane had thrown a pair of his cargo pants at you earlier this morning, grumbling about a hole in one of his pockets. You had woken up earlier than him, probably because he had returned to your shared tent far after everyone else in camp had retired for the evening. This was becoming somewhat of a routine for the two of you: Shane sneaking around in the middle of the night thinking you’re asleep; meanwhile, you spend the restless nights in your tent waiting to see if he actually comes back. You never ask him where he was in the morning—knowing that Shane would brush you off by saying he was on watch as if you don’t understand that the shifts rotate every night. Another sigh escapes your lips as you defeatedly throw the pants onto the table before you and turn your attention to your finger, which you had clumsily stabbed with a needle while attempting to fix the garment.
“You ‘lright?”
The sound of Daryl’s rough southern drawl makes you jump. You look up and see Daryl standing a few feet away with his raised hands. He takes a few careful steps toward you—his movements are slow and calculated. Your brow furrows at the sight—did he think you’re afraid of him?
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle ya.”
“It’s okay, Daryl. I was just a little distracted.”
Daryl nods at your words before taking a seat beside you at the table.
“What’d ya do to your hand?”
He leans toward you slightly to get a better look, his concerned eyes raking over your hands, looking for any sign of injury. A small smile spreads across your face as Daryl continues to worry about your well-being. You raise your hands to show him that you’re perfectly okay.
“It’s nothing. Just pricked my finger—Shane has a hole in his pocket, and I was never good with a needle and thread.”
You shrug your shoulders nonchalantly as you speak. Daryl chews on his bottom lip as he looks at the cargo pants on the table. It’s ripped along the seam, an easy fix—he’s done it numerous times for his own tattered jeans.
“Give it ‘er.”
You look at Daryl’s outstretched hand in disbelief for several seconds before handing him the needle and thread. Daryl snatches the pants off the table and gets to work. You watch him curiously—his brow furrows as he focuses on the task at hand. Daryl momentarily lets his attention drift to you; he awkwardly shifts in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable with how intently you’re watching him.
“Why are you lookin’ at me like that?”
His tone is defensive, but it doesn’t make you back down like everyone else.
“Just surprised, is all.”
“What, Shane doesn’t know how to sew?”
He meets your incredulous gaze and can’t help but laugh. The sound is still foreign to his ears, even though it’s becoming somewhat of an ordinary occurrence when he’s with you. He’s much more used to the sound of Merle yelling, music blaring, old motorcycles' roar, and the forest's peaceful ambiance. 
“Well, you shouldn’t have to do everything for him.”
His genuine words should comfort you, but instead, they nag at you. You shouldn’t have to do everything for him. You shouldn’t have to turn a blind eye to your boyfriend’s nightly habit. You shouldn’t have to walk on eggshells around him. You shouldn’t have to make yourself smaller for his convenience. And yet, here you are. 
“You have a cigarette?”
The question catches Daryl off guard. He’s only seen you smoke once—that night at the campfire, and he swore it was his fault. Your words from that night still rattle around in his head. You’re a bad influence, Dixon. He completes his final stitch, bringing the thread to his mouth so he can rip it off with his teeth. He places everything back on the table before pulling out his pack of Marlboro Reds from his pocket and offering it to you. You take one from the pack, twisting it in your fingers before placing the cigarette between your lips. Daryl notices your hesitation as he hands you his old lighter, so he waits until you’ve lit your cigarette before pulling out one of his own. The two of you sit in comfortable silence, but something about this doesn’t sit right with Daryl.
“What’s goin’ on?”
You furrow your brow at his question, feigning confusion, but Daryl doesn’t relent. He simply raises a brow at you as he takes another long drag of his cigarette. You let out a defeated sigh before answering his question.
“It’s just Shane…”
You trail off thinking that since it’s relationship drama, maybe Daryl wouldn’t be interested. But he doesn’t try to change the subject or brush you off, instead, he gives you his undivided attention. He watches you quickly look around camp, scooping the area and taking account of who is around. A frown pulls at the corners of Daryl’s lips as he realizes that you’re once again looking over your shoulder for Shane.
“He wasn’t always like this. I mean, he was always a hothead, but he wasn’t always so cruel.” 
“Hey…”
The softness in his tone catches you off guard, and you look up at him. A part of you wants to cry at how attentive Daryl is at this moment. It’s been so long since someone has shown you this kind of care.
“You ain’t gotta defend him to me.”
Daryl watches as a single tear falls down your cheek at his words, and he begins to panic. Did he upset you? Was he out of line? Had he gotten the situation between you and Shane wrong? This isn’t his forte. He wishes he was a different man—a better man, a softer man. He wishes he was more like his mother and less like his father. That she could have lived long enough to teach him a few more life lessons—like how to comfort someone you care for. 
Before he has the chance to spiral completely out of control, he feels your fingertips find his, and his heart damn near stops. He involuntarily pulls away from your touch, and it makes him wince. He sits in the shame of his response to your touch. A better man would have been able to return your affection. Finally, he meets your gaze, expecting to see the hurt he caused by his reaction. Instead, he’s met with a smile so warm and tender that he can practically feel the shame in his body melt away.
“Thank you, Daryl.”
A small, affectionate smile pulls at the corners of Daryl’s lips. 
“It was nothin’.”
You shake your head at his words. What he did for you today was far from nothing, but you let it go, opting to turn your attention back to the cargo pants on the table before you. As you admire Daryl’s handiwork, you can’t help but hope that Daryl knows that Shane’s pocket isn’t the only thing he stitched back together today.
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archangelofzion · 3 days
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stiveroon · 1 day
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He's oddly fine... 😭
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bricknees · 2 months
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merle was a creep at times but he was on his way to redemption. i love the idea of sort-of-brother-in-law merle that got to live a little longer and make an effort to be a better person.
this is assuming daryl's partner is a female, btw
❜ ─ more under cut ─ ❛
• merle realizing just how head over heels daryl is for you. he would give him HELL over it but at the end of the day he would be so protective over this little ray of light in his baby brother's life
• you think daryl can be scary when a guy's looking at you the wrong way? the guy's quite literally done for when merle finds out
• "merle, you can't say that, that's offensive-" "aw hell, y'all are some damn pansies!"
• "lemme know when you get tired of my little bro, i'll show you what a real man's like-" "you ever shut yer damn mouth, merle?"
• ^ he's not serious though. he just likes to get daryl riled up and thinks it's funny to see your nose scrunch up in disgust, even if he does end up getting clocked in the jaw for it
• when the brothers go on supply runs, merle points out necklaces or earrings they come across, encouraging daryl to take it for you because "women love shiny shit"
• he's always asking you when you're going to pop out a little boy so he can finally be an uncle
• "how ya know it wouldn't be a girl?" "ain't been a girl with dixon blood since i been alive, brother. ain't gonna happen." (if you and daryl have a baby, it definitely does happen)
• when the prison falls, you can't find daryl and there's no more time, so you end up running from the prison with merle
• he hates it
• like every second of it
• not necessarily because he minds your company, but moreso because this is a huge fucking weight on his shoulders
• your wellbeing is now his #1 priority because you're daryl's girl and that makes you family, and he has no intentions of letting his little brother down again
• so it's a lot of pressure
• plus you keep giving him that nasty ass side-eye like he pissed in your cornflakes any time he says something that he finds hilarious (it's actually just offensive), and he's starting to think your sense of humor is nonexistent
• you expect him to make some vulgar jokes or try to come onto you at any given minute, but to your surprise, he actually never does
• like i said, he was never serious and he only joked about it to mess with daryl. without daryl around, he's rather respectful of your space
• at night he tells you stories of his time in the military before he got discharged and went to prison
• please don't cry around him :) he likes you and all, but he would really rather cut off his other hand than have to try and comfort you - that's daryl's job
• the only time he manages to not be an ass when you're crying is when you mention worrying about daryl and missing him
• merle lets out a hefty sigh in response, ruffles your hair with his one hand, and admits that he misses him, too
533 notes · View notes
mymanreedus · 1 month
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Daryl's teen years.
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dilfsandmartinis · 5 months
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I know this man is a virgin. everything he knows about sex is from pornography and Merle. When Merle brought women, he spied on them, He did it to "learn and be prepared" but he never had sex. when the dead rose and despite his abilities he was not sure if he would survive, He got desperate, he needed it, So he approached you like Merle would, and you fell. He wants to make you believe that he's already had sex, so he would roughly touch you and call you a whore, like he saw Merle doing. BUT the moment this man sees a pair of tits in front of him he will come in his pants.
Sorry not sorry. Sometimes these dirty ideas and scenarios come to me and I think why don't I upload it to the Internet?
English is not my first language so sorry if there are mistakes.
🍋
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daddygrimes · 8 months
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merle: say one thin' ya like 'bout me.
y/n: easy, your brother.
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deezusduh · 24 days
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Thinking about how Daryl has two brothers and there’s only two good arms between them lol
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allzelemonz · 1 month
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Settle: Merle Dixon X Male Reader
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Pronouns: he/him, Reader referred to as ‘man’ and ‘boy’ Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut, language Warnings: Slurs (homophobic), Merle Dixon is his own warning, mention of Merle’s SS symbol, typical southern prejudice/homophobia, neck kissing, anal fingering, anal sex, cockwarming, hand job, cuddling, top Merle and bottom Reader Summary: After striking out with every woman in camp, Merle turns to you and ignores the gay aspect of sleeping with another man in favor of getting laid. A/N: Imagine my lack of surprise but utter disappointment in finding no male reader shit for Merle. Written out of spite. Enjoy.
After a third pill and a third strikeout, Merle is almost certain he’ll have to handle himself tonight. No woman in the whole damn camp wants any action, even with a touch of good ol’ Southern charm Merle attempted. Not a bite from anyone. So Merle stumbled through the cluster of tents, only half as high as he’d like to be and blue balls stiff between his legs. Just as he’s about to turn a corner towards his tent on the outskirts with his brother’s, he catches a pretty sight.
Not that Merle is gay. Of course not. But the man is asleep with his tent partly unzipped, shirt off and back arched like a damn whore. How could Merle not stare just a little. His eyes trail over your back, bare and just fuzzied by the drugs in his system that he may mistake things enough to ignore the dick between your legs.
So he kicks your foot, waking you up.
Your hand goes to your knife first, then you turn to see it’s not something dead behind you. “What, Merle?”
“Ya a queer?”
You squint at him, off put by the way he says it. “Why’re you asking?”
He shrugs. “Fella can’t be curious.”
“Not with that Nazi symbol on your bike you can’t.” You close your hand around your knife. “Go away.”
Merle chuckles, raising his hand in mock surrender. “Woah, woah, there… I was just askin’.”
You stare at him for a moment. “Fine. Yeah, I like men. I’m a queer. Are we done here?”
Merle bites at the inside of his cheek, trying to come up with the right words. “Ya let me fuck ya?”
“What?” You ask, sitting up to look at him properly.
Merle scoffs. “Ya heard me. Would ya?”
“Why would you-“
“Ladies ‘round here bein’ stingy.” Merle shrugs. “Hole’s a hole.”
“You’re joking.” You say in disbelief.
“Ain’t like I never fucked an ass before. It’s the same shit.”
You shake your head. “No, it’s really not.”
“Aw, come on, I’ll be quick.” Merle attempts a pout. “Ain’t no trouble.”
You sigh, shaking your head because you know it’s a dumb idea somewhere deep down. “Fine.”
Merle grins. “Atta boy.”
“Get on with it then.” You sigh, watching Merle step inside. “Zipper.”
Merle turns and zips the tent closed behind him, fumbling with it for longer than any regular person would. When he turns his hands go straight to his belt.
You watch his fingers move for a second. “You ever fucked another man before.”
Merle snorts. “Course not. I ain’t a queer.”
“It’s a little different, you know.”
“What?” Merle sneers. “I gotta play with yer pecker er somethin’?”
You shake your head. “Not necessarily. But you have to stick your fingers in for a while and stretch things out.”
“Yer just picky.”
“Maybe. Just do it, asshole, or I’m not gonna let you fuck anything.”
Merle pulls his belt free. “Fine. Pants off then, sweetheart.”
You huff, annoyed at Merle already, but it’s been far too long since you’ve had this chance. You pull your pants off, ignoring Merle’s eyes on your legs and turn around to lay on your stomach.
“Alright.” Merle grins, shuffling up behind you and nudging your legs apart. “What am I doin’ here, sweetheart?”
You turn your head back, half wanting to see the sight. “Put your fingers in your mouth.”
“Why?”
“Spit’s the only lube we have.” You mutter. “Just do it.”
Merle glares slightly, but does as he’s told and presses three fingers past his lips. He sucks on them, his other hand already going to your hip. It’s clear he’s never been the type to do this with any of the women he’s been with either. Without prompting, he drops the hand down and traces until he finds your rim.
“Ya ready for Merle’s magic fingers, boy?”
“Shut up.”
Merle chuckles, circling his finger around before slowly pushing inside. “Whew…” Merle exclaims. “Tight little thing, ain’t ya?”
You open your mouth to speak but Merle’s finger drags against your prostate and all you can manage is a groan as you bury your face down into your pillow.
He leans over you, his hand moving up to grip at the bare skin of your chest. “I find somethin’ good?”
You nod, mindlessly pushing back into him. “Fuck, Merle…”
He repeats the drag, his fingers moving quickly to fuck whatever sounds he can get out of you. You don’t expect much more, but he leans down and presses his lips to your neck. He trails sloppy kisses over your skin, his fingers fully thrusting into you at a quick pace.
“You want me?” Merle murmurs next to your ear. “Want Merle to fuck ya better than some fairy ever could, don’t ya?”
“Yeah…” You answer, spreading your legs as much as you can. “Why you’re here, isn’t it?”
Merle grins against your skin. “You just be a good boy. You’re good at that.”
He sits back up, removing his fingers and positioning himself properly behind you. His hands fix on your waist, pulling you back and propping you up on your widespread knees. You feel his tip press against you for just a second before he presses inside. There certainly isn’t enough lubrication or preparation, so the stretch of being entered hurts just enough to make a few whines form in your throat. Merle pushes all the same, stretching you open and filling you up with everything he has.
He groans as he bottoms out, running a hand over your spine. “You feel so damn good, sweetheart.” He squeezes your hip slightly. “Might turn me gay…”
Before you can think much about that, Merle begins to piston his hips at a quick pace. Both of his hands grip tightly at your hips and the force of his thrusts presses you forward into your pillow, only held up at the waist for Merle to fuck into you properly. You let him, relaxing into the hold and letting him use you because the slide of his dick hitting your prostate feels better than anything else. Merle pushes you down to lay flat, leaning over you and rocking into you as his head dips against your shoulder. The sleeping bag below you rubs at your dick with every thrust Merle gives you.
“Knew I liked you.” Merle mutters, half to himself. “Better than any damn woman… shit, sweetheart.”
Merle’s hips stutter and he groans as he releases, burying himself as deep as he can into you. You take heavy breaths as Merle relaxes on top of you, trying to ignore the squirming feeling of not having finished. Then Merle’s hand snakes under you, pumping furiously fast and gripping hard until you mutter his name and your vision blurs for a moment as you spurt cum onto your sleeping bag.
His hand slows to a massaging tempo and you can hear him inhaling strongly. “Ya gotta let me do that again sometime, boy.” He murmurs. “God, yer making me inta a queer.”
“Happy to help.” You mutter, still catching your breath.
Merle chuckles, letting both arms encircle you as he fully lets himself relax on top of you. “So ya liked my dick in ya?”
You bury your head into your pillow, avoiding his annoying question.
Merle chuckles. “Lemme sleep here?”
“Whatever.”
“Can I fuck ya in the mornin’?”
“If you want.”
He grins, settling his lips right next to your ear. “Ya gonna help keep little Merle warm all night too?”
You groan as he pushes against you, his soft dick still filling you and linking the both of you together. “Just sleep, jackass.”
He chuckles again. “Whatever you say, queer.”
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yanxidarlings · 2 months
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YANDERE TWD
REUNITED (yandere! big brother! merle dixon x male reader x yandere! big brother daryl dixon) (yandere! gareth x male reader) (rick grimes x male reader if you squint) NOTES: fair warning, this is some descriptive disturbing shit merle dixon counts as a warning on his own as well. this went in many directions i originally set out for yandere headcanons for the two, then got into the terminus arc, and ended with some pretty vague alluding to yandere. might write a part two)
imagine obsessive! possessive! big brothers! merle and daryl dixon. the dead begin to walk and they keep the darlin safe, meeting up with the atlanta camp. but the brothers won't let anyone get close to the darlin, not dale, not carl, certainly not shane or lori.
somehow, the darlin ends up going with glenn into the city on a supply run, only for it to go horribly wrong. the darlin insisted they head into a chemist to "look for medications" in case anyone in the camp needed them. but it was a lie. the darlin just wanted to find something to help merle with the inevitable withdrawal he'd go through once his supply of drugs ran out. the chemist is overrun by walkers but the darlin insists. "we can clear it!" they say to glenn "it'll be worth it for m- everyone" the korean gave the other a skeptical look. in the end, there was just too many, glenn thought he saw the darlin go down and reluctantly returned to camp.
"oi! shitface, you think you're a big boy now? can do whatever you want now everything's gon' to shit!" the raspy, harsh voice of merle dixon echoed through the camp. the redneck tramped over to the SUV glenn was parking. he remained silent as he turned the engine off. taking a deep breath, the young man exited the car, staring at the grass.
the older dixon stormed over, aggressively opening every door of the vehicle until he reached the boot. filled with supplies. "where the fuck is m/n" he growled, coming closer to the asian "he better be pullin up in another car" merle spat out. "i- it was" glenn stuttered out, looking like he was about to piss his pants "it wasn't my fault, m/n was being reckless, i had no cho-" CRACK glenn's face was soon bloodied and bruised, merle now on top of him, yelling out profanities as he beat the younger man. "merle!" the others quickly ran to pull the redneck off glenn.
"you fucking ch*ng-ch*ng bastard i'll rip-" merle was pried off glenn, who was now rolling around in agony, his face a bloody mess. "what the fuck happen'd" merle rasped out, although to glenn it sounded like a croak "where is he" merle was still being held back by t-dog and shane as he continued yelling. glenn avoided the rednecks furious gaze "the walkers got him" he finally spoke, looking down.
for a moment it looked like merle was about to cry, for a moment merle himself thought he was going to burst into tears like a sissy. "no he ain't" but instead he picked up his shotgun, and got into the drivers seat of the SUV.
that was how andrea, t-dog, jackie, glenn and morales ended up in the city. that was how merle got handcuffed to a roof by "officer friendly" and that was why daryl yelled in agony on that same roof. in the course of a day, he had lost the two most important people in his life.
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but merle had survived by cutting off his left hand, and the darlin had survived by covering himself in walker guts.
"china- no- glenn- don't- help!" the h/c-et screamed, the sound of his own gun firing defeaning his ears. as one went down, another lunged at him, rotten teeth clanking together, desperately trying to knaw into his flesh. but he wouldn't die here. he couldn't. not when merle was 'relying' on him to get drugs. maybe then, the dixons would start to treat him as less of a clueless child and more of an equal.
after taking down a few, m/n jumped behind the counter, rummaging through the medications, looking for anything that might help with the withdrawal, or better, give merle his next fix. more of the dead came at him, but he just kept shooting, stabbing, hitting, anything to cause the fatal damage needed to end the dead's miserable 'life'.
BANG one was down BANG another BANG BANG BANG .. the slide didn't move forward as he shot his way through another round. shit. he was out of ammo "glenn!" he yelled out as a walker fell on top of him, wrestling it's way closer to his skin. all the korean could hear was m/n's screaming. which only attracted more walkers. he saw the medicine that m/n had thrown over the counter before going down, stuffing it into his bag, he creeped up closer to the group of walkers that had acculumated, following the sound of m/n's scream. until it stopped. "m/n?" he uttered under his breath, but the pile of walkers on top of each other told him the other was dead. with tears in his eyes, glenn ran out.
m/n struggled against the strength of the walker. it was freshly turned, he could tell. otherwise it wouldn't be so strong. kicking, punching, reaching for his knife, anything to save himself from becoming one of them. plunging his blade into the side of the walkers head, he quickly slit the once-man's throat. covering his face in the blood. before moving down to the abdomen. cutting it open, letting the walkers rotting insides pour out all over him, the ones that had piled on top soon couldn't distinguish the smell of living flesh from rotting blood.
he went silent, breathing shallowly, hoping, praying, they'd move off him and he could silently slip out. but when he was finally free of the chemist, glenn, the supplies they had gathered, and the SUV were gone.
he walked the dead-ridden streets of the once bustling city, covered in blood, hidden in plain sight. he kept walking (which then turned into a limp after getting hit in the ankle by a flying bullet) becoming weaker with each step, hoping to make his way back to camp. only to come to the end of the trainline leading into suburban atlanta. TERMINUS the building read "those who arrive survive" he heard a feminine voice call out from the speakers. maybe they have gauze. he glanced down at his leg, the sleeve of his shirt he had tied around it now dyed red.
"community for all; sanctuary for all" he saw a young man- perhaps just a little older than m/n was, staring down at him from the window. something felt amiss, off, but m/n had lost so much blood he didn't care. he stumbled towards the train station, stopping and starting as he debated his decision.
daryl, merle.. they'll be wondering he thought to himself, stopping for the 5th time, but i won't make it back he began walking again but they'll be looking for me he stopped, nearly tripping but the sudden lack of motion if i found this place they'll find it too he picked up the pace again, frantically moving towards the gates but- as he stopped himself once more, he finally tripped over. right onto the walker trap the train people had set up. his left ribcage was pierced by the sharp metal pole sticking out of the ground, causing the h/c-et to let out a loud screech.
before he knew it people had come out, the same man that had stared at him through the window moments earlier put his hand on the wound, causing m/n to flinch "we're you trying to get yourself killed?" the man mused, seemingly unphased by the active bleeding out that was happening in front of him. the man spoke more words that were muffled as m/n fell out of consciousness.
it was pitch black when he opened his eyes. not a shred of light to allude to the location. pitch black. m/n's hands brushed her his torso, feeling the gauze that was tightly wrapped around his chest. it all came back to him. the chemist, the walkers, glenn, the train people. he shifted his arms, feeling the thin material he was lated on, and the cold metal it covered. attempting to hoist himself up, pain shot through his body.
letting out a groan, he laid back down, closing his eyes. is this death. it certainly felt like it. the nothingness, the pain, it was all he had ever imagined death to be like. what felt like hours passed, the nothingness was almost comforting, how long had it been since he could lay like this and do nothing with no worries. it was all ended when the creaking of the door signaled to m/n that he was not in-fact dead.
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the sudden brightness was blinding "you awake?" a masculine voice spoke. m/n's eyes began burning from the light, "i guess" he replied quietly, his eyes closing. "good" the male put down a plate next to where m/n laid "eat up. i know this isn't the warmest welcome, i would have liked to show you around first" the man chuckled, leaning down, seemingly to get a good look at m/n.
the man- who introduced himself as gareth, began speaking about the community- terminus. that they did whatever they had to for survival, that m/n would have to prove himself loyal if he wanted to become apart of the community. he wasn't sure how to tell this gareth guy that he was leaving as soon as possible to find his group.
the discussion started off normal as m/n finished his food, until gareth started talking about how lonely he was, as the leader of this terminus community. it only got creepier as gareth started to call m/n pretty boy, edging closer to him. m/n doesn't want to know what would have happened if that middld aged lady (gareth's mother), hadn't called the man away.
it quickly became evident to m/n that he was never going to leave. gareth locked him in the pitch black train car for hours on end, opening the door when there were armed men to prevent m/n from trying anything. gareth would sit with him and talk, running his hands over the male's body, stealing kisses, it was a reprehensive routine m/n had become forcibly accustomed to.
it all changed the day the hunters attacked. m/n was in his train car, as usual, listening to the outside screams, wondering if the attackers were dead or alive. he knew they were alive when one pried open the train car door, and threw them self on him. he was then thrown into a cramped train car with other terminus residents, where the hunters hand picked who to assault and slaughter each day. he and gareth spent their days huddled up together, talking about their lives before. had m/n not accepted the hunters offer to leave the train car if he worked for them, gareth wouldn't have lost his mind. but m/n was desperate to get away. from the train car. from terminus. to find his family.
but the hunters caught him trying to leave. they did their absolute worst to him and then threw him back in. when the termites took back terminus, gareth locked the leader of the hunters and m/n into the same train car. "this is what you deserve" he told him, before locking the door shut.
perhaps it was years, perhaps it was months, maybe it was only a few hours. the horrors of the train car began to unfold, as the man who had once led the attack on terminus lost his mind: pouncing on m/n at random, screaming for hours straight, trying to eat m/n alive when they'd be deprived of food, ripping his ear off in hungered insanity. as m/n laid there bleeding from his ear, he decided either i escape or i die. had running worked before? no. was he willing to die trying? not really, but a man would do anything for freedom, and that's what m/n did.
the hunter had fallen asleep, a fatal mistake, as m/n wrapped his hands around the mans unshaven neck and squeezed. within second the man awoke but m/n was relentless, not letting go until the other went limp. i just have to wait now he cried to himself, hands shaking. calming, he began to strip the man of his clothes and use the fabric to restrain his limbs.
waiting for the termites to open the door with the meal made of human flesh felt like an eternity. the familiar sound of metal scratching and creaking filled m/n's ear, who quickly sprung into action.
grabbing the reanimated hunter by the hair, he guided it in the direction of the door, throwing it towards the woman holding their plates. she screeched as the hunters corpse sank it's teeth into her flesh, blood pouring from the wound.
m/n grabbed the woman's gun and bolted as the nearby workers aimed their guns at the walker, taking it down swiftly, but m/n had already gotten out of the train car. hiding behind what once was his cage, he shot at every person who came into view. eventually making his way to the fence, through the woods, he didn't stop running until the sound of gunshots stopped entirely. even then, he kept running. he ran for what felt like hours until his lungs couldn't take it anymore. collapsing onto the dirt, heaving in and out.
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woodbury had fallen, it's entire population now living in the prison nearby. rick had relinquished his leadership, insisting the prison be governed by a council. he often went on runs by himself, to get away from it all, to look back on his actions, to find lost survivors. it wasn't everyday rick grimes came across a twenty something perhaps younger male covered in blood, breathing like he had never tasted air before. well, usually the young men were walkers. but this one was very much alive.
"please don't" the male groaned out, eyes wide, as rick approached with a knife. "who are you" he drawled out, kneeling down to get a good look at the other. the young males face was bruised, his hair covered in blood, an ear was missing, and the male was emaciated. "uh" the male seemed to have to think about it, as if he hadn't spoken to another human in years "m/n" he finally puffed out, bringing his hand up to his head, where the left ear once was.
rick's hands brushed m/n hair out of his face, causing the male to flinch away "how many walkers have you killed" the older man finally asked after several moments of silence. m/n just stared at him, as if to say he hadn't been keeping track "how many people have you killed" still, the same look. "water" "what" rick narrowed his eyes. m/n used his free hand to shakily point to the man's bag, where a bottle of water was latched on to the side.
rick was silent as m/n chugged the water down "do you have anything sweet?" "no i don't" "oh" something about the boy felt familiar. didn't glenn mention originally going into atlanta to find a boy with a similar description? maybe it was just that the male reminded him of his own boy in a way, or maybe he had already developed a fondness for m/n. "i have a camp" rick looked m/n in the eye "we have walls, food, a community, a doctor that can look at your wound" he added.
the h/c-et shook his head "not again" rick furrowed his brows "what" the boy started to pick himself up "i gotta, um" he started feeling around the ground for his gun, "gotta go" he finished as he felt the handle of the gun. stuffing the weapon into his belt, he stood up, using a tree as a crutch. "c'mon kid, you're going to die out here" rick leaned forward and took the gun out of the others hand "no im not! give it!" m/n lunged forward, only to awkwardly fall into rick's chest, sinking down back to the ground.
"you've got two bullets left" m/n looked up at rick with a glare "either you come back to my camp with me or i just wasted my water on a dead man" m/n held his glare until the sun got into his eyes. "whatever" he looked down, hoisting himself back to his feet with the help of rick's hand.
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daryl squinted his eyes as the evening sun glared down, merle had stolen his motorcycle. again. the older dixon was always going off on fun runs without informing anyone beforehand. perhaps because the redneck had never really been accepted into the group like daryl was.
taking another bite of his pork chop, daryl grunted at carol who told him to go in and get some rest. but why would he want to rest when all he could think of when his mind was unoccupied was his baby brother, the boy he had pretty much raised, who was now probably a rotting corpse in atlanta. but daryl still held out hope that m/n had gotten out, that he was safe, that he would find him oneday. this was why he never rested, these thoughts would creep up in the younger dixons head.
the sound of his motorcycle rumbling told him that merle was back. the older dixon sauntered over to daryl, a cigarette sat between his thin lips, "look what you're big brother merle got you, darylina" he pulled a pack of cigarettes out his pocket, sliding it into daryls pocket. daryl said nothing, staring into the distance; was that rick? the figure was too far away to discern.
"dad!" carl called out, jogging down. "look what i- m/n?" the young grimes exclaimed as he came closer to the pair. rick carried the half-conscious boy through the gates "you know this guy?" rick looked at carl, who flicked the hair out of m/n's face to get a better look "he was with us back in atlanta, we thought he died on a run"
daryl's heart stopped, did he hear carl right? they were pretty far away. standing up, he threw the pork bone aside and marched towards the two- three. when he finally came close enough to see the persons face, he had to stop himself from tearing up in front of carl and rick "m/n" he uttered out quietly. the father and son came to a halt as he approached "you knew this guy back in atlanta" rick nodded at daryl "'course i did. he's my brother" daryl was quick to take m/n off rick. he wanted to cut the mans arms off just for touching his precious brother.
daryl rushed m/n into the prison, settling him in his cell, "go get hershel" he told carol, who looked just as perplexed as merle did as he walked into the cell. "m/n!? i thought you was dead" he breathed out, shoving daryl out the way, who was quick to push back, both wanting to be as close to their younger brother as possible "where'd you find him" merle looked over at rick, who was standing out front the cell "in the woods, looked like he'd been running"
rick moved aside as hershel came in, merle reluctantly stood up as hershel sat to access m/n's condition. "he's lost a lot of blood" hershel examined the ear hole where the flesh and muscle had been ripped from "we should have bob look at him, but from what i can see he needs bandaging and antibiotics" daryl grunted "i ain't letting no stranger touch him" he ushered hershel away, taking m/n's hand in his own "i found antibiotics on last weeks run, that gon' be enough" merle looked over at the old man, who nodded "we'll have to see how he reacts"
neither daryl or merle left m/n's side whilst waiting for the antibiotics to kick in. it was strange. no one in the prison had ever seen either of them so worried for or attached to someone. but for the six days and nights m/n spent unconscious, his body fighting off the infection from his wounds, recovering from the months of maltreatment.
when m/n finally opened his eyes, taking in his surroundings, daryl was leaned against the wall at the edge of the bed, eyes locked on the boys face "sleep well?" was the first thing he said after the two had stared at each other for what felt like an eternity "yeah" m/n spoke softly.
"i should have never gone hunting that day" "am i dead" the two spoke in unison. daryl breathed out "no, never gon' let that happen" he shuffled closer, laying down next to the youngest dixon.
daryl stared at m/n intensely, until merle was roused from his sleep "m/n, i told you not to go out of my sight" he grumbled, sitting forward. m/n looked up at the metal frame of the top bunk "i just wanted to get you some narcan" merle stared at him, blinking away tears "didn' have to risk your life for it" he pursed his lips "i ain't worth you dyin'" he added quietly, sitting back, his eyes not leaving m/n's.
the room went silent for a moment "maybe not, but you're my brother" m/n closed his eyes for a moment "do you guys have pop or candy here?" he questioned hopefully. merle let out a chuckle "i found a can on my run today" he chuckled out, before going quiet "i chugged it on the spot"
"you piece of shit!"
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nonesenseushi · 9 months
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My first time posting. I wrote a thing and got told to share it.
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The Walking Dead x Male Mute!Reader HC’s
Daryl probably didn’t trust or like you right off the bat:
• He didn’t like how quiet you were, like deadass you never made a sound, even while walking
• Doesn’t realize your mute at first and figured you just thought you were too good to talk to anyone
• Probably has beef with you because you use a bow and arrow
• He soon comes to respect you when you prove your willingness to help protect the group
• Even more so when he realizes you don’t talk because you just 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵
Rick probably trusts you right away, although he isn’t much of a fan of how you just kinda do your own thing:
• He likes that you’ll usually do what he asks(orders) - little does he know that what he tells you to do, you were already planning on doing it
• Because of your quietness, you can easily get in and out of places without being noticed - be that by walkers or people - and he 100% uses that to the group’s advantage
• Rick doesn’t like that you disappear from the group at times, even when your hunkered down somewhere; the prison for example, you’d sometimes just vanish and no one could find you
• When you come back though you usually have stuff that the group needs or wants, so they can’t be too mad
Glenn is pretty neutral towards you at first, although you somehow become pretty good friends:
• He was really unnerved from you at first, with how quiet you were and the hard RBF you got
• Because you both were quiet and quick, you often got sent on runs together and he 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘥 it
• Glenn realized you weren’t so bad when you made a joke one time on a run;
You both were in some sort of hardware store gathering supplies when Glenn bent down to grab something. A fart noised sounded in the store and with how quiet it was, Glenn heard it loud and clear.
He stood up and looked at you in embarrassment, truly believing that sound had come from him, only to stop when he saw the grin on your face and the playful glint in your eye. You repeated the noise, blowing a raspberry at him before your shoulders shook in silent laughter.
• After that you both became good friends
• He also realized that you weren’t some hardass that was constantly judging people
• Although he’s definitely caught you staring at the others when they did something questionable, definitely judging them.
• Glenn always found those moments funny, seeing the look of confusion or disbelief on your face
Carl likes you, he thinks your really cool:
• He thinks it’s really cool how you use a bow and arrow (something Daryl is totally not a little jealous of)
• Would beg you to teach him how to use it
• You would, only to grin and silently laugh when he somehow smacks himself in the face with the bow string
• You of course would apologize for laughing and properly teach him how to use it, although he can’t for the life of him draw it back at first
• Carl also thinks it’s really cool how quiet you are as he gets older
• Young Carl was definitely afraid to approach you because of your RBF
• As he gets older though he admires your stealth and will even ask how to be stealthier like you
Other characters:
Merle:
• Merle was convinced that you were lying about being mute
• He probably followed you one day while you went for a hunt or something to confront you
• You beat his ass six ways till Sunday
• He didn’t pester you after that, although Daryl tried to kick your ass for beating up his brother
Maggie:
• She probably thought you were kinda weird at first
• But she was also really curious about you
• Her and Glenn both went to you about the other, Glenn to be an absolute simp, and Maggie to see if Glenn was truly a good guy
Shane:
• Bro hated you from the start
• Because of how quiet you are, he felt like he was always being watched (he was)
• You always had this blank stare when you looked at him, it made him feel like you knew all his secrets (you did)
• You knew about him sleeping with Lori, at first you didn’t care for it but then Rick showed up and turned out to be her husband
• Shane was only a little thankful that you were mute so you couldn’t tell everyone what you knew
• He still knew that you could destroy him through, so he was very careful
• You only tortured him psychologically a 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦
• Especially after Otis died
• You had gone with them on the run and had supposedly gotten separated from them when the walkers showed up
• Shane knew better by that point though
• You seemed to know everything
Hershel:
• Just like the rest of the group, he didn’t want you on his farm
• He seemed to like you the most though because you didn’t carry a gun - at all - and you weren’t aggressive like Daryl
• It helped that you put your bow and arrows down whenever he asked for no weapons
• Overall you were just respectful towards the man and he appreciated it
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archangelofzion · 24 hours
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literally me with all my comfort characters
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dixonsgirl93 · 3 months
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How TWD men would react to you telling them they’re handsome
Daryl Dixon
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- His eyes would widen slightly as he stared at you. It would be a couple of moments before your words sunk in and he spoke. “Uh…thanks? I don’t…uh… Why ya tellin’ me tha’?” He’d question more about the why, being suspicious. “Tha’s cute but I ain’t handsome. I ain’t… don’t lie to me.” You’d say again that you really think he is. He’d turn away before you could see his blush. He’d stare hard at you, probably looking for signs of dishonesty but when he found none he’d walk away, not knowing what to say. He’d also be thinking about it still in years to come.
Rick Grimes
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- “Handsome? Really?” He’d smirk, not because of the compliment necessarily but because of your boldness to say it. “How uh…how long have you thought that? …Since you first lay eyes on me? Well, damn. Took you long enough to say somethin’. Yeah, that’s right, I’ve seen you looking at me.” He’d wink and step in close, pinning you against the car door. He’d lean down and whisper in your ear. “Later.”
Negan Smith
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- He’d chuckle softly, giving you his classic sexy smoulder. “You really think so, huh? How handsome do you find me? You wanna fuck me, is that it?” At your blush he’d chuckle again and come closer to you. “Aw, c’mon. Don’t go coy now. Speak up, baby. I gotta know.” He’d get the information from you one way or another and then have his way with you, knowing you want him badly.
Merle Dixon
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- “Don’t toy with me, sugar.” He’d warn, already assuming you’re playing some sort of trick on him. “You think I’m what now? Handsome? What’s that mean, huh? You like me or sum’n?” When you’d confess you did, his demeanour would change, becoming flirty. “Ohhh, you like old Merle now, huh, Sugar? Well, I know what we can do about that.” He’d smirk and pull you into him hard.
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bricknees · 2 months
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it seemed a lot of people liked the brother-in-law merle headcanons and a couple of people like the idea of uncle merle, so... let's talk about how you and daryl make merle an uncle :)
─•~❉᯽❉~•──•~❉᯽❉~•──•~❉᯽❉~•─
• you get pregnant not long after the group settles in alexandria
• merle keeps his distance from you while you're pregnant
• your hormones are all over the place, you go from laughing to crying at the drop of a dime, and any time he opens his mouth around you, he's always saying the wrong thing
• daryl has to play mediator so that you don't kill him, even though sometimes daryl considers doing it himself
• like when merle mentioned how big you were getting during your second trimester... *sigh*
• you cried
• daryl snapped
• it was... not a good day
• so he stays away for the most part, asking daryl when he wants to know how you're doing. he occasionally brings you some snacks that he must have stolen from the pantry, but you're always too hungry to care about how he got them
• first time merle actually calls you his sister out loud is after you've given birth and he holds his niece for the first time
• "atta girl, baby sister. you did real good."
• he is BEAMIIIINNGGG
• his eyes are just a little wet because the air is dry, that's all...
• he had wanted a nephew so bad, but the second he sees her, his heart grows three times it's size
• he was convinced that dixons could only make boys, but here he is holding a little dixon girl, daryl's babygirl, and she's the most precious thing he's ever seen
• constant jokes about needing a paternity test
• "i'm just saying, that nose is lookin' more like mine than yours, maybe your girl slipped into the wrong bed one night-" "shut the hell up, merle"
• merle always gives you a little wink to show he's just being an ass and not actually accusing you of such a thing
• which daryl knows. it doesn't annoy him any less, though
• never allowed to babysit EVERRRR. if your daughter isn't with aunt carol or aunt maggie, then she's at the grimes house. merle always has choice words about it
• okay, well... he babysits a couple times. and your daughter was returned back each time covered in dirt. one time merle carries her up to the door with wet pant legs pulled up to her knees and bits of leaves still strewn in her hair
• "oh... you had a fun time with uncle merle, huh?" "damn right she did, mamas. taught 'er how to catch frogs. babydoll, tell yer mama what a frog says!" "bib-bit!" "she's learnin'."
• saying the name merle is too complicated for your daughter's limited articulation, so she just calls him 'unca' while she's learning to talk.
• when your daughter DOES start to articulate...
• "son of a bitch!" "bitch!" "ha! that was good! wait- nah, nah, don't say that- aw, shit..." "shit!" "no!"
• he refuses to own up to it
• "merle! why's my daughter cursin' like a fuckin' sailor?" "well, darleena, sounds to me like she's gettin' it from you!"
• he's the favorite uncle (after aaron - your daughter adores aaron)
• rick's lowkey offended by it and tries to subtly bribe your daughter into saying she likes him more
• "uncle dick!"
• ...
• "... are you kiddin' me?" "don't know where she learned that from. must be a good judge'a character."
little bonus that doesn't have to do with uncle merle: it's really up to you, but i like to think that you and daryl would have agreed to name your daughter beth 🥺 you would have suggested the name, knowing that part of daryl never really healed after her death, and he would freeze. forgets how to breathe for a second as the memories wash over him. and then he would blink really fast as he feels his eyes start to water and he'd give you that soft little nod he does when he's trying not to cry. PLEASE- 😭
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dixons-sunshine · 9 days
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👉👈 Because your my fav writer for Dad Daryl 👉👈 Just wondering if you’d consider him stepping up as a parental figure for his niece (Merle’s kid) after he “died” and when he actually died 👉👈
I'm Right Here | Uncle!Daryl Dixon x Niece!Reader (platonic/familial)
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*GIF isn't mine.*
Summary: With Merle gone, you were the only family Daryl had left. He had unofficially stepped up as your dad, and in those eight months with your actual father "dead", Daryl was a better dad than Merle ever was. And he proved it in more ways than one, even before Merle went missing.
Genre: Fluff, some light angst.
Era: The Quarry, The Prison (season three).
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of blood and death, fear of abandonment.
Word count: 2.4k
A/n: I've been bouncing back and forth between fics and finally managed to finish this. Next up is I Never Lived For The Applause, and then some more young!Daryl. Anyhow, I hope you like this!
➳༻❀✿❀༺➳
“Hey, kiddo. Ya alrigh'?”
“I'm fine. The walkers didn't get me,” you tried to reassure him. “You didn't find my dad?”
You looked up at the sound of your uncle's voice, meeting his intense gaze. You gave him a small, unconvincing smile that he could see through instantly.
Daryl sat down on the log next to you, placing his crossbow down on the ground. He stared ahead at the ashes of the prior night's fire, an unreadable expression on his face. “Nah. Wasn't nothin' to find 'cept his hand. He had to cut it off.”
You winced, absentmindedly grabbing your own hand at the mere thought of the pain that it must've caused your father. Despite your strained relationship with the man for obvious reasons, he didn't deserve that fate—to lose his hand because some people couldn't find another way to deal with his temper.
“Oh,” you mumbled, feeling your heart break. Despite everything, Merle was your father and you loved him. At least he had stuck around. The same couldn't be said for your mother, who had dropped you on Merle's doorstep the moment you were born.
“Yeah,” Daryl responded, instantly picking up on your downtrodden mood but not knowing how to bring you comfort in a moment like that. He'd just essentially told you, his thirteen year old niece that was so wise beyond her years due to the shit Merle had gotten into, that your father was most likely dead. It tore him apart to have to bestow that news on you, but it was necessary. What could he do, lie to you? That was out of the question.
You blinked the tears away that had started to well up in your eyes, trying to put on a brave face for your uncle. “Looks like it's just us now, huh, uncle Daryl? The two remaining Dixons.”
Daryl gave you a tight-lipped smile and ruffled your hair, chuckling quietly at the sound of protest you let out. “Looks like it. We're gon' give the world hell, ya and I. Jus' like the old times.”
You smiled up at him. Even though your father was gone, you still had your uncle, and that made you feel better about everything.
“We are. The world ain't ready for us.”
➳༻❀✿❀༺➳
“It won't work.”
“S'gotta.”
“It'll stir things up,” Rick told Daryl, adamant with his decision.
“Look, the Governor's probably on the way to the prison righ' now. Merle knows how he thinks, and we could use the muscle,” Daryl replied defiantly, glancing between his companions on the road.
“Do you really want him sleeping in the same cellblock as Carol, Beth or Y/n?” Glenn questioned, unwilling to let Merle, a known hothead and former drug user, near the people he's come to care about.
“He ain't a rapist,” Daryl responded, frowning at Glenn's accusation. “And he sure as hell wouldn't touch his own daughter like tha'. Merle may be sick in some ways, but he ain't like tha'.”
“Yeah, okay, but his buddy is.”
“They ain't buddies no more. Not after last nigh'.”
Rick chipped in to the conversation, turning the archer's attention back to him. “There's no way Merle's gonna live there without putting everyone at each other's throats.”
“What, so ya'd cut Merle loose and bring the last samurai home with us?” Daryl asked, motioning over to Michonne who was waiting for them by the car.
“She's not coming back with us.”
“She's not in a state to be on her own,” Maggie denied, giving Rick a pointed look.
Glenn nodded in agreement to his girlfriend's statement. “She did bring you guys to us.”
“And then ditched us,” Rick stated in a bored tone, eyeing Michonne warily.
“At least let my dad stitch her up?” Maggie asked.
“It's too unpredictable,” Rick denied vehemently, shaking his head.
Daryl nodded in agreement. “He's righ', we dun' know who she is. But Merle... Merle's blood.”
“No. Merle is your blood. My blood, my family is standing right here and waiting for us back at the prison,” Glenn countered, crossing his arms over his chest.
“And you're part of that family,” Rick told Daryl, looking at him expectantly. “He's not. He's not.”
Daryl stayed quiet for a few moments, pondering over his decisions. Thoughts of leaving with Merle, going off and fending for themselves like the old days flashed through his mind, but then he thought of you. You, his sweet, kind, low-key badass, now fourteen year old niece who he'd gone to great lengths to protect over the past eight months. The girl who he'd been taking care of since his brother "died", the girl who had unknowingly started to feel like his own daughter, though he would never tell Merle that. And at that moment, he knew he couldn't just leave. He wouldn't.
“Man, wha' do y'all expect me to tell my niece?” Daryl began, effectively silencing everyone. “Tha' I found her father after all this time and he's alive, but he couldn't come back to her 'cause y'all said so? How's tha' gon' fly with her? Ya'd really deprive the girl a chance at gettin' her father back 'cause of wha' might happen?”
That seemed to really make everyone reconsider. Even Glenn didn't have a counter argument now. Everything was silent for a good thirty seconds while Rick weighed his options, exchanging wordless exchanges with Maggie and Glenn. It was clear that nobody wanted it, but the group couldn't deny Daryl's argument. They cared about you, and it would be unfair for them to deny you the chance of getting your father back.
Rick turned and whistled, signalling Merle over. When he stood in front of him, Rick gripped him by his shirt, getting into his face.
“You're coming with us, but this isn't an invitation for you to be a jackass with everyone back at the prison. The only reason you're even coming back is because of your daughter. If it wasn't for her, you'd be gone.”
Merle's eyes widened the slightest bit with surprise, but it soon morphed back into his usual careless look. “Well, would ya look at tha'. My lil' girl still lives. M'surprised, quite honestly. Didn't think she was built fer this world. Kinda expected her to have kicked the bucket by now.”
“Man, shut up!” Daryl's voice boomed unexpectedly, shutting his brother up. “Dun' make me regret convincin' them to bring ya back. And if ya even say one degradin' thing to yer daughter, I will personally gut ya and feed ya to the walkers. Tha' kid's been through 'nough.”
Unbeknownst to either brother, Rick, Glenn and Maggie had walked ahead to get everything settled into the car, leaving the two brothers to their feud. It was a good idea, too. That was a family matter.
“Wha', ya actually care 'bout her now? Didn't see ya stickin' 'round to play pretend with her back before the world went to shit, and now yer tryna tell me how to parent my own child? Nah, lil' bro. Tha' ain't how it works.”
Daryl scoffed and shoved past him, walking over to the car. He didn't miss the unmistakable sound of Merle's laughter, rolling his eyes at it. He pressed forward and slipped into the passenger's seat, not missing the way everyone tensed up when Merle got into the car.
He just hoped that he hadn't made the wrong decision by bringing Merle back.
➳༻❀✿❀༺➳
You and Carl were rushing over to the gates when you saw the familiar vehicle enter the courtyard. The car was noticeably more crowded, and with one glance through the window, you were relieved to see your uncle. You had been so worried that something might have happened to him, but there he was, relatively unscathed.
Daryl was barely out of the car when you practically launched yourself into his arms. He stumbled a bit but regained his footing, hugging you tightly to him. He didn't miss the unmistakable sound of your sniffles.
“Hey, kiddo, s'alrigh'. M'okay,” he reassured you in whispered tones, rubbing his hand up and down your back in comfort.
“I was so scared. I couldn't stop fearing the worst,” you choked out, trying to will the sobs away. You buried your face into your uncle's shirt, dampening it slightly with your tears, but he didn't seem to mind.
“M'righ' here. I ain't goin' nowhere, I promise,” he assured you. “No more tears, alrigh'? Ain't no more need fer 'em.”
“Well, ain't this jus' sweet.”
A familiar raspy voice met your ears. You tensed up, pulling away from the hug and turning around, facing the man you had thought to be dead for eight months—your father, Merle Dixon.
“Wha', no hugs fer yer old man, girl?” Merle asked, a grin on his face as he extended his arms in a silent invitation for a hug. “Yer not gon' greet the man who helped with givin' ya life?”
Subconsciously, you took a step back. Daryl stepped in front of you, shielding you with his body. He gave Merle a warning glare before turning to you.
“Why dun' ya go help Hershel with tha' lady we brought back? I know he's been teachin' ya some medical things. It'd do ya good to learn how to do stitches.” You nodded, understanding his underlying message and sped off, leaving him alone with Merle. Daryl turned to face him, a glare on his face. “Man, back the hell off. She ain't gotta give ya anythin' if she dun' want to.”
“Because I was with the enemy?”
“'Cause yer a simple minded piece of shit who never even bothered to play dolls with her, much less give her hugs! Ya wanna know somethin'? When tha' lady dropped her off on our doorstep, who do ya think took care of her when yer ass was too high or drunk to? To answer yer question from earlier, I did stick 'round. I changed her diapers. I bathed her, fed her, stayed up with her at nigh' when ya wouldn't. I took care of her. Ya were jus' too fuckin' out of it most of the time to realise it! Hell, did ya think those things happened magically?”
“Now listen here, bro—” Merle started, but Daryl didn't light up.
“And when she got older, who the hell do ya think took her to school? Picked her up, encouraged her to do the spelling bee, went to parent teacher conferences? Do ya think the fuckin' tooth fairy did tha'? Say wha' ya want, bro, but she dun' owe ya shit. Ya may not have been like dad, but ya weren't a good father, either.”
Merle stayed silent for a moment, the weight of his brother's final statement weighing heavily on his shoulders. “Then why the hell did ya convince 'em to bring me back?”
“'Cause despite everythin', tha' girl still loves ya. And she deserves to have her father 'round,” Daryl responded simply before turning around and stalking off, leaving Merle alone and dumbfounded.
Merle Dixon wasn't right about most things, but one thing he knew for certain he was right about was that you probably didn't care whether he was dead or not. If what Daryl was saying was true, you didn't need him. You had a perfectly good father figure in your life already. Daryl had been a better father to you than your actual father was.
And for some unknown reason, that crushed Merle's heart.
➳༻❀✿❀༺➳
“You found him like that?”
Daryl's heart shattered at the broken sound of your voice. It was the second time that he had needed to tell you that Merle was dead, but this time, it was real. Your father's lifeless corpse layed motionless six feet in the ground in the designated graveyard, Daryl having dragged him there and buried him.
Daryl nodded. “Found him as a walker. He had tried to kill the governor but failed. Son of a bitch got to him first.”
“I should've stopped him. I should've known that something was wrong,” you said, a sob threatening to escape your body. “Before he left, he told me that he was proud of me. That he loved me. I should've known that there was a reason to it. He never told me that before. I should've—”
A choked up sob finally fell past your lips. Daryl instinctively pulled you into his arms, offering to be the pillar of strength for you as you crumbled. Despite everything, Merle was still your father. You still had a handful of good memories with the man—when he wasn't drunk or high, Merle was an okay father. But just okay.
It took a while, but you finally managed to calm down. Instinctively, Daryl pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, running his hand soothingly over your back.
“S'alrigh', kiddo,” he whispered soothingly.
You didn't know what made you say what you said next. Maybe it was the fact that you weren't thinking straight. Maybe it was because you were desperately looking for a pillar of support, you didn't know. But before you could stop it, the words slipped past your lips—
“Please don't leave me. I can't lose you too, Dad.”
A moment of silence passed. Unbeknownst to you, a small smile spread over Daryl's face. He pulled you closer to him.
“Ya still got me. M'here and I ain't goin' nowhere, kid. Yer stuck with me.”
Merle Dixon wasn't always a good man. He wasn't always a good father either. But in the midst of a cruel world, before and after the dead started walking, Merle managed to give Daryl a sweet gift—you, his daughter. Because despite biological relations, you were now truly his.
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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 11 months
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Merle was slumped back in his camp chair, nursing a hangover, picking his teeth, and generally scowling at the rest of the camp. It wasn’t lost on him how Daryl had seemingly been choosing to spend time with you lately and he didn’t like it. Merle could see that Daryl was staring at you across camp at that exact moment, watching as you tucked some collected flowers into the little braids you’d done in Sophia’s hair. 
He pulled himself up to his full height and the gravel crunched beneath his boots. As he stopped beside Daryl, his little brother tore his gaze away and refocused on the whetstone and knife in his hands. “That the kinda girl you like?” Merle drawled, removing the toothpick from his mouth. “Soft. Weak...” He spat onto the dirt beside the stump Daryl was sitting on.
Daryl bristled and shifted away from his brother. “She ain’t soft,” he said adamantly. “I wouldn’t say that...” he trailed off, glancing back up and taking in the way the sunshine was illuminating the shine in your hair, the wide smile on your face, and the gentle way you always were with the kids. His heart jumped and he felt a jittery, nervous energy run through him. “Just cuz she ain’t an asshole who fights with every sip of liquor, Merle, dun make her soft.”
His older brother scoffed. “You better be careful, little brother. Or she’ll make you soft too. This world’s gonna eat her up and spit her out. You’ll see.” The diminishing crunch of the gravel was a relief, and Daryl’s eyes lifted and landed on you again. 
At just that moment, you happened to look up, and perhaps you’d felt his gaze because you looked his way and the smile on your face widened, the light in your eyes staggering. Daryl gulped and stared back down at his hands. Maybe you were soft, but not in the way Merle meant it... and Daryl? Lord knows he needs some softness in his fucking life, the kind he could sink into and get lost in... 
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