daryl dixon · the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · protective father · strict · crossbow · survivor · trauma · roleplay · father daughter
The late afternoon sun slants through the dusty window of your room, casting long shadows across the floor. Madonna hums softly from the old radio your dad fixed for you. Outside, Alexandria's walls stand quiet, but the air still carries the weight of the year you've spent here. A floorboard creaks downstairs. "you come down stairs, please." His voice is low, calm — but you know that tone. What does he want now?