Invincible Ones [A Walking Dead Story]

Invincible Ones [A Walking Dead Story]

Reads 6,640
Votes 277
Parts 43

Ongoing2h 58m

Last published Sat, Mar 4, 2017

carlgrimes daryldixon rickgrimes twd zombies

Daryl Dixon's little sister adopted during the apocalypse, Ember Dixon, is a badass and troublemaker. Remind you of someone? It runs in the family! This is Ember's adventures and love story. Love story? Oh yeah, Ember also catches feelings for a member in the group, but will her tough skin make her block her feelings out? [PG-13 cuss words/language] (Going through editing of early chapters) Random Deep Ember Thoughts- "My leaves of traits aren't gone. They haven't wilted or crumbled in time. Leaves do change slower or faster than us. Seasons manage that. The way the plant life add more to the world. But us, no, we change faster than the leaves. No seasons to tell us when to change,we just do. When it all started, we all change immediately or we die. It's change or die. I changed. But some of me still dies when I do change. What happens when the leaves leave the tree in the winter? Do they change? Or just fall just because they give up? I'm going to experience the seasons, but only three. I will not give up and become a barren tree. A side of me still hides in the depths of change. It's the artistic side. The drawing I used to do in my cell, the deep-thought poetry and writing in my journal that I found in an old Barnes And Noble book store. We change for pain. We adapt like animals in a new climate, and we all adapt differently. In a good way like Dale, Or In an evil way like The Governor. I'm just a tree. With leaves of change."

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Scars • Daryl Dixon

Daryl always put on a mask, an impenetrable facade that made him appear indifferent, as if he didn't care about anything or anyone except for himself. He pushed people away, deliberately keeping them at arm's length, but I knew better. I had seen glimpses of something more beneath that hardened exterior-something real, something human. It wasn't obvious, and it wasn't easy to see, but it was there. I didn't know the full extent of his story, of the pain and the ghosts he carried with him, but I could tell that behind his rough edges, there was a man who cared. The more I watched him, the more I saw that contradiction in him-this mix of isolation and vulnerability. I didn't know him the way I wanted to, but at the same time, there was a strange, inexplicable feeling that I did. It was as if there was something familiar in him, something I recognized, even though we'd never truly shared our pasts. His eyes, especially, told a story all their own-a silent narrative of hurt, survival, and loss. There was a depth there, something raw and honest, as though his life before all of this had shaped him into someone who had learned not to trust, not to hope. I found myself wondering what kind of life he had before the world fell apart-what his family had been like, what his childhood had been shaped by. I could imagine the kind of father he had-a man whose influence left deep scars, someone who might have made Daryl believe that showing emotion or affection was a weakness. It wasn't hard to guess that the lessons Daryl had learned were ones forged in silence and pain, things that had made him pull away from others and close off the softer parts of himself. Daryl Dixon x Fem!OC

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