OC Profile: Adrian
Full Name: Adrian Lucio Caruso (later Dixon-Caruso)
Aliases: Puppy, Sweetheart, Idiot, Dada
Age: 31 when the apocalypse starts
Personality & notable traits: Positive, charming, loyal, selfless, talkative. Passionate and romantic. Socially conscious. Emotionally intelligent. Lacking book learning. Overly trusting. Easily manipulated. Bad liar. Vainglorious peacock, short sighted, and he runs towards danger without thinking. The most loyal man Daryl's ever met. “Ain’t nothin’ sadder than an outdoor cat thinks he’s an indoor cat.” Joe glances ahead of them, looking to Adrian’s back. “Except maybe an indoor dog that’s better put down. Your friend there ain’t made for this, is he?” - Joe the Claimer
Family: Daryl Dixon-Caruso (husband), Dante Dixon-Caruso (son), and Merle Dixon (unwilling brother-in-law), plus more to come. Former family includes his mother and step-father, but no siblings or other major relatives.
Appearance: Face claim of Nick Bateman but more muscular, olive skinned, and blue eyed.
Backstory/History: Raised by his mother until his step-father entered the picture in early elementary school, Adrian had a mostly pleasant childhood. He excelled in physical fitness thanks to his step-father owning a gym, which also led to him being enrolled early in many classes (karate, judo, etc) When his step-father died in his early twenties, the gym passed to Adrian. Pre-apocalypse he had mostly 12-14 hour days on six day work weeks, with his spare time given solely to serial dating/hook-ups or playing music with his band. A serious romantic, Adrian longed for mister right while accepting mister right-now every weekend so long as someone warmed his bed. His silver tongue and chiseled features make getting attention easy. Adrian did have an on again/off again partner over ten years, who reappears & stirs up their dark history when it is revealed to Daryl that Adrian was groomed as a high school senior by his teacher and the pair kept it up after the fact. Traveling through Georgia to meet with a gym equipment manufacturer when the trials hit left him stranded in an unfamiliar state. Adrian was a lone New Yorker with every tell of being a city boy when he met Rick’s group.
Friends: Almost everyone except Merle. Initially struggled with Rick.
Home: Prison -> Alexandria -> ? Job: Former gym owner, leading classes and offering personal training. Post apocalypse, he is still a physical fitness instructor but also a Prison/Alexandrian recruiter with Daryl.
Hobbies: Working out, singing & playing guitar, songwriting, talking to Daryl while cuddling, and finding ways to brighten his family's days.
Favorites: Blue (color), pizza (food), anything by his band (song), leather jackets (outfit), Daryl (person), doggy/blowjob (position to give), anything facing (position to get)
Apocalyptic weapon of choice: Machete gifted to him by Daryl, during Judith’s formula run.
First hunt: Deer hunt with Daryl. The deer was gutted in the woods and he treated an intestine like a noodle. Not a fan of hunting & is too loud in the woods, but likes the time alone with Daryl.
Stories: Anything in the Dixon-Caruso universe, primarily the Outdoor Cat & Indoor Dog.
Excerpt: “You’re like a cozy but cranky cat when you’re sick.” He still snuggles against Daryl’s back.
Daryl groans at the unmanly idea of being seen as a fucking cat. “Ain’t no cat.”
“You are kinda cat-like though.” Adrian murmurs happily against his hair, still clearly relishing the thought. He quietly starts to list the reasons, stroking down one of Daryl’s biceps. “You like to come and go as you please. Like being outside. Cats are great hunters. Cigarettes are like your catnip. Your attention’s gotta be earned, isn’t that a cat thing?” He leans forward and nips at Daryl’s chin and cheek, voice growing more teasingly playful, “And I found your kitten whiskers.”
Daryl’s eyes roll in the middle of the list. “Idiot.” He thinks by now that Adrian is aware of the hefty affection and lack of insult that comes with the less-friendly nickname. He thinks of his loyal, excitable, far more sociable lover and snickers. “If I’m a damn cat, then yer a dog. Like the way ya kept fetchin’ earlier.” When Adrian had set up that knock-em-down type game he had ran those stairs at speed, without a single complaint.
“What breed?” Adrian asks curiously - of course he does.
Daryl’s lips quirk upwards a bit happily at the ridiculousness of Adrian wondering which breed. Course he would. Everyone else would see purely that drop dead gorgeous, sexy side of him or be intimidated by his muscle, but Daryl knows that hidden adorable, half innocent side. So he shakes his head and amends his statement. “More like a fuckin’ puppy.”
He can feel shakes of laughter against his back as well as hear it, which settles but sticks in Adrian’s voice like a layer of added joy and brightness. Adrian lays close to him and stills, lips not far from Daryl’s ear as he returns to a more traditional spoon. “I’d like being your puppy,” Adrian tells him firmly, sliding an arm around Daryl’s middle. He is not laughing when he says it - he means it.
Daryl’s gaze widens at the unexpected answer from a huskier voice. He expected some cheeky little joking remark, or maybe a perverted one. Adrian always drops those dirty comments at the most unexpected moments. Instead he finds it more surprising to get that offer. My puppy? He knows it is not an actual thing, just the two of them acting stupid and sappy. It feels like something though. Maybe Daryl’s brain got affected by the sickness. Whatever caused it, now he is stuck actually thinking how puppy-like his sweet lover is. He turns, half rolling over and now pressing into Adrian’s front.
I like when he calls me Sweetheart… feels good hearin’ it. He’d prob’ly like hearin’ something like that. Somethin’ just for him. And he is like one.
“Yeah, Puppy.” Daryl murmurs assuredly, instantly gratified when Adrian lights up at hearing it. Those blues pop as if surprised it is a particularly cute nickname. Immediately Daryl has one cheek cupped as Adrian stares at him, all wide eyed and looking completely the part minus the wagging tail.
“Gimme those Kitten Whiskers.” Adrian playfully purrs more like a cat to Daryl’s ears, leaning in and kissing along Daryl’s jaw with at least a half dozen tiny kisses. The tender kisses shut the hunter’s eyes and stop a protest at the stupid feline nickname. Adrian gets more enthusiastic as he nips at Daryl’s chin before speaking and Daryl can practically hear the man smirking, “Actually..”
A long wet caress to his jaw has Daryl’s eyes snapping open. He realizes what Adrian is doing and sticks a hand in the musician’s face, trying to push his tongue away. “Yer lickin’ me?”
“I’m your Puppy, aren’t I?” Adrian cheekily asks, clearly enjoying himself.'















